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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:51:59 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/17842-0.txt b/17842-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..76e9fa8 --- /dev/null +++ b/17842-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10834 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Dead Man's Rock, by Sir Arthur Thomas +Quiller-Couch + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Dead Man's Rock + + +Author: Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch + + + +Release Date: February 23, 2006 [eBook #17842] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEAD MAN'S ROCK*** + + +E-text prepared by Lionel Sear + + + +DEAD MAN'S ROCK. + +A Romance. + +by + +Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch (Q). + +1887 + +[This e-text prepared from an edition published in 1894] + + + + + + + +To the Memory of My Father I dedicate this book. + + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +BOOK I.--THE QUEST OF THE GREAT RUBY. + +Chapter. + +I. TELLS OF THE STRANGE WILL OF MY GRANDFATHER, AMOS TRENOWETH. + +II. TELLS HOW MY FATHER WENT TO SEEK THE TREASURE; AND HOW MY + MOTHER HEARD A CRY IN THE NIGHT. + +III. TELLS OF TWO STRANGE MEN THAT WATCHED THE SEA UPON POLKIMBRA + BEACH. + +IV. TELLS HOW A SONG WAS SUNG AND A KNIFE DRAWN UPON DEAD MAN'S + ROCK. + +V. TELLS HOW THE SAILOR GEORGIO RHODOJANI GAVE EVIDENCE AT THE + "LUGGER INN" + +VI. TELLS HOW A FACE LOOKED IN AT THE WINDOW OF LANTRIG; AND IN + WHAT MANNER MY FATHER CAME HOME TO US. + +VII. TELLS HOW UNCLE LOVEDAY MADE A DISCOVERY; AND WHAT THE TIN + BOX CONTAINED. + +VIII. CONTAINS THE FIRST PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: SETTING FORTH + HIS MEETING WITH MR. ELIHU SANDERSON, OF BOMBAY; AND MY + GRANDFATHER'S MANUSCRIPT. + +IX. CONTAINS THE SECOND PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: SETTING + FORTH HIS ADVENTURES IN THE ISLAND OF CELON. + +X. CONTAINS THE THIRD AND LAST PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: + SETTING FORTH THE MUTINY ON BOARD THE _BELLE FORTUNE_ + +XI. TELLS OF THE WRITING UPON THE GOLDEN CLASP; AND HOW I TOOK + DOWN THE GREAT KEY. + + + +BOOK II--THE FINDING OF THE GREAT RUBY. + +Chapter. + +I. TELLS HOW THOMAS LOVEDAY AND I WENT IN SEARCH OF FORTUNE. + +II. TELLS OF THE LUCK OF THE GOLDEN CLASP. + +III. TELLS AN OLD STORY IN A TRADITIONAL MANNER. + +IV. TELLS HOW I SAW THE SHADOW OF THE ROCK; AND HOW I TOLD AND + HEARD NEWS. + +V. TELLS HOW THE CURTAIN ROSE UPON "FRANCESCA: A TRAGEDY" + +VI. TELLS HOW THE BLACK AND YELLOW FAN SENT A MESSAGE; AND HOW I + SAW A FACE IN THE FOG. + +VII. TELLS HOW CLAIRE WENT TO THE PLAY; AND HOW SHE SAW THE + GOLDEN CLASP. + +VIII. TELLS HOW THE CURTAIN FELL UPON "FRANCESCA: A TRAGEDY" + +IX. TELLS HOW TWO VOICES LED ME TO BOARD A SCHOONER; AND WHAT + BEFELL THERE. + +X. TELLS IN WHAT MANNER I LEARNT THE SECRET OF THE GREAT KEY. + +XI. TELLS HOW AT LAST I FOUND MY REVENGE AND THE GREAT RUBY. + + + + + +DEAD MAN'S ROCK. + + + +BOOK I. + + + +THE QUEST OF THE GREAT RUBY. + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + +TELLS OF THE STRANGE WILL OF MY GRANDFATHER, AMOS TRENOWETH. + +Whatever claims this story may have upon the notice of the world, +they will rest on no niceties of style or aptness of illustration. +It is a plain tale, plainly told: nor, as I conceive, does its native +horror need any ingenious embellishment. There are many books that +I, though a man of no great erudition, can remember, which gain much +of interest from the pertinent and appropriate comments with which +the writer has seen fit to illustrate any striking situation. +From such books an observing man may often draw the exactest rules +for the regulation of life and conduct, and their authors may +therefore be esteemed public benefactors. Among these I, Jasper +Trenoweth, can claim no place; yet I venture to think my history will +not altogether lack interest--and this for two reasons. It deals +with the last chapter (I pray Heaven it be the last) in the +adventures of a very remarkable gem--none other, in fact, than the +Great Ruby of Ceylon; and it lifts, at least in part, the veil which +for some years has hidden a certain mystery of the sea. For the +moral, it must be sought by the reader himself in the following +pages. + +To make all clear, I must go back half a century, and begin with the +strange and unaccountable Will made in the year of Grace 1837 by my +grandfather, Amos Trenoweth, of Lantrig in the County of Cornwall. +The old farm-house of Lantrig, heritage and home of the Trenoweths as +far as tradition can reach, and Heaven knows how much longer, stands +some few miles N.W. of the Lizard, facing the Atlantic gales from +behind a scanty veil of tamarisks, on Pedn-glas, the northern point +of a small sandy cove, much haunted of old by smugglers, but now left +to the peaceful boats of the Polkimbra fishermen. In my +grandfather's time however, if tales be true, Ready-Money Cove saw +many a midnight cargo run, and many a prize of cognac and lace found +its way to the cellars and store-room of Lantrig. Nay, there is a +story (but for its truth I will not vouch) of a struggle between my +grandfather's lugger, the _Pride of Heart_, and a certain Revenue +cutter, and of an unowned shot that found a Preventive Officer's +heart. But the whole tale remains to this day full of mystery, nor +would I mention it save that it may be held to throw some light on my +grandfather's sudden disappearance no long time after. Whither he +went, none clearly knew. Folks said, to fight the French; but when +he returned suddenly some twenty years later, he said little about +sea-fights, or indeed on any other subject; nor did many care to +question him, for he came back a stern, taciturn man, apparently with +no great wealth, but also without seeming to want for much, and at +any rate indisposed to take the world into his confidence. +His father had died meanwhile, so he quietly assumed the mastership +at Lantrig, nursed his failing mother tenderly until her death, and +then married one of the Triggs of Mullyon, of whom was born my +father, Ezekiel Trenoweth. + +I have hinted, what I fear is but the truth, that my grandfather had +led a hot and riotous youth, fearing neither God, man, nor devil. +Before his return, however, he had "got religion" from some quarter, +and was confirmed in it by the preaching of one Jonathan Wilkins, as +I have heard, a Methodist from "up the country," and a powerful mover +of souls. As might have been expected in such a man as my +grandfather, this religion was of a joyless and gloomy order, full of +anticipations of hell-fire and conviction of the sinfulness of +ordinary folk. But it undoubtedly was sincere, for his wife Philippa +believed in it, and the master and mistress of Lantrig were alike the +glory and strong support of the meeting-house at Polkimbra until her +death. After this event, her husband shut himself up with the +tortures of his own stern conscience, and was seen by few. In this +dismal self-communing he died on the 27th of October, 1837, leaving +behind him one mourner, his son Ezekiel, then a strong and comely +youth of twenty-two. + +This brings me to my grandfather's Will, discovered amongst his +papers after his death; and surely no stranger or more perplexing +document was ever penned, especially as in this case any will was +unnecessary, seeing that only one son was left to claim the +inheritance. Men guessed that those dark years of seclusion and +self-repression had been spent in wrestling with memories of a sinful +and perhaps a criminal past, and predicted that Amos Trenoweth could +not die without confession. They were partly right, from knowledge +of human nature; and partly wrong, from ignorance of my grandfather's +character. + +The Will was dated "June 15th, 1837," and ran as follows:-- + + "I, Amos Trenoweth, of Lantrig, in the Parish of Polkimbra and + County of Cornwall, feeling, in this year of Grace Eighteen + hundred and thirty-seven, that my Bodily Powers are failing and + the Hour drawing near when I shall be called to account for my + Many and Grievous Sins, do hereby make Provision for my Death + and also for my son Ezekiel, together with such Descendants as + may hereafter be born to him. To this my son Ezekiel I give and + bequeath the Farm and House of Lantrig, with all my Worldly + Goods, and add my earnest hope that this may suffice to support + both him and his Descendants in Godliness and Contentment, + knowing how greatly these excell the Wealth of this World and + the Lusts of the Flesh. But, knowing also the mutability of + earthly things, I do hereby command and enjoin that, if at any + time He or his Descendants be in stress and tribulation of + poverty, the Head of our Family of Trenoweth shall strictly and + faithfully obey these my Latest Directions. He shall take ship + and go unto Bombay in India, to the house of Elihu Sanderson, + Esquire, or his Heirs, and there, presenting in person this my + last Will and Testament, together with the Holy Bible now lying + in the third drawer of my Writing Desk, shall duly and + scrupulously execute such instructions as the said Elihu + Sanderson or his Heirs shall lay upon him. + + "Also I command and enjoin, under pain of my Dying Curse, that + the Iron Key now hanging from the Middle Beam in the Front + Parlour be not touched or moved, until he who undertakes this + Task shall have returned and have crossed the threshold of + Lantrig, having duly performed all the said Instructions. + And furthermore that the said Task be not undertaken lightly or + except in direst Need, under pain of Grievous and Sore + Affliction. This I say, knowing well the Spiritual and worldly + Perils that shall beset such an one, and having myself been + brought near to Destruction of Body and Soul, which latter may + Christ in His Mercy avert. + + "Thus, having eased my mind of great and pressing Anguish, I + commend my soul to God, before Whose Judgment Bar I shall be + presently summoned to stand, the greatest of sinners, yet not + without hope of Everlasting Redemption, for Christ's sake. + Amen. + + "AMOS TRENOWETH." + +Such was the Will, written on stiff parchment in crabbed and +unscholarly characters, without legal forms or witnesses; but all +such were needless, as I have pointed out. And, indeed, my father +was wise, as I think, to show it to nobody, but go his way quietly as +before, managing the farm as he had managed it during the old man's +last years. Only by degrees he broke from the seclusion which had +been natural to him during his parents' lifetime, so far as to look +about for a wife--shyly enough at first--until he caught the dark +eyes of Margery Freethy one Sunday morning in Polkimbra Church, +whither he had gone of late for freedom, to the no small tribulation +of the meeting-house. Now, whether this tribulation arose from the +backsliding of a promising member, or the loss of the owner of +Lantrig (who was at the same time unmarried), I need not pause here +to discuss. Nor is it necessary to tell how regularly Margery and +Ezekiel found themselves in church, nor how often they caught each +other's eyes straying from the prayer-book. It is enough that at the +year's end Margery answered Ezekiel's question, and shortly after +came to Lantrig "for good." + +The first years of their married life must have been very happy, as I +gather from the hushed joy with which my mother always spoke of them. +I gather also that my first appearance in this world caused more +delight than I have ever given since--God forgive me for it! +But shortly after I was four years old everything began to go wrong. +First of all, two ships in which my father had many shares were lost +at sea; then the cattle were seized with plague, and the stock +gradually dwindled away to nothing. Finally, my father's bank +broke--or, as we say in the West, "went scat!"--and we were left all +but penniless, with the prospect of having to sell Lantrig, being +without stock and lacking means to replenish it. It was at this +time, I have since learnt from my mother, that Amos Trenoweth's Will +was first thought about. She, poor soul! had never heard of the +parchment before, and her heart misgave her as she read of peril to +soul and body sternly hinted at therein. Also, her best-beloved +brother had gone down in a squall off the Cape of Good Hope, so that +she always looked upon the sea as a cruel and treacherous foe, and +shuddered to think of it as lying in wait for her Ezekiel's life. +It came to pass, therefore, that for two years the young wife's tears +and entreaties prevailed; but at the end of this time, matters +growing worse and worse, and also because it seemed hard that Lantrig +should pass away from the Trenoweths while, for aught we knew, +treasure was to be had for the looking, poverty and my father's wish +prevailed, and it was determined, with the tearful assent of my +mother, that he should start to seek this Elihu Sanderson, of Bombay, +and, with good fortune, save the failing house of the Trenoweths. +Only he waited until the worst of the winter was over, and then, +having commended us both to the care of his aunt, Elizabeth Loveday, +of Lizard Town, and provided us with the largest sum he could scrape +together (and small indeed it was), he started for the port of +Plymouth one woeful morning in February, and thence sailed away in +the good ship _Golden Wave_ to win his inheritance. + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +TELLS HOW MY FATHER WENT TO SEEK THE TREASURE; AND HOW MY MOTHER +HEARD A CRY IN THE NIGHT. + +So my father sailed away, carrying with him--sewn for safety in his +jersey's side--the Will and the small clasped Bible; nor can I think +of stranger equipment for the hunting of earthly treasure. And the +great iron key hung untouched from the beam, while the spiders +outvied one another in wreathing it with their webs, knowing it to be +the only spot in Lantrig where they were safe from my mother's broom. +It is with these spiders that my recollections begin, for of my +father, before he sailed away, remembrance is dim and scanty, being +confined to the picture of a tall fair man, with huge shoulders and +wonderful grey eyes, that changed in a moment from the stern look he +must have inherited from Amos to an extraordinary depth of love and +sympathy. Also I have some faint memories of a pig, named Eleazar +(for no well-explained reason), which fell over the cliff one night +and awoke the household with its cries. But this I mention only +because it happened, as I learn, before my father's going, and not +for any connection with my story. We must have lived a very quiet +life at Lantrig, even as lives go on our Western coast. I remember +my mother now as she went softly about the house contriving and +scheming to make the two ends of our small possessions meet. She was +a woman who always walked softly, and, indeed, talked so, with a low +musical voice such as I shall never hear again, nor can ever hope to. +But I remember her best in church, as she knelt and prayed for her +absent husband, and also in the meeting-house, which she sometimes +attended, more to please Aunt Elizabeth than for any good it did her. +For the religion there was too sombre for her quiet sorrow; and often +I have seen a look of awful terror possess her eyes when the young +minister gave out the hymn and the fervid congregation wailed forth-- + + "In midst of life we are in death. + Oh! stretch Thine arm to save. + Amid the storm's tumultuous breath + And roaring of the wave." + +Which, among a fishing population, was considered a particularly +appropriate hymn; and, truly, to hear the unction with which the word +"tu-mult-u-ous" was rendered, with all strength of lung and rolling +of syllables, was moving enough. But my mother would grow all white +and trembling, and clutch my hand sometimes, as though to save +herself from shipwreck; whilst I too often would be taken with the +passion of the chant, and join lustily in the shouting, only half +comprehending her mortal anguish. It was this, perhaps, and many +another such scene, which drew upon me her gentle reproof for +pointing one day to the text above the pulpit and repeating, +"How dreadful is this place!" But that was after I had learned to +spell. + +It had always been my father's wish that I should grow up +"a scholar," which, in those days, meant amongst us one who could +read and write with no more than ordinary difficulty. So one of my +mother's chief cares was to teach me my letters, which I learnt from +big A to "Ampusand" in the old hornbook at Lantrig. I have that +hornbook still:-- + + "Covered with pellucid horn, + To save from fingers wet the letters fair." + +The horn, alas! is no longer pellucid, but dim, as if with the +tears of the many generations that have struggled through the +alphabet and the first ten numerals and reached in due course the +haven of the Lord's Prayer and Doxology. I had passed the Doxology, +and was already deep in the "Pilgrim's Progress" and the "Holy War" +(which latter book, with the rude taste of childhood, I greatly +preferred, so that I quickly knew the mottoes and standards of its +bewildering hosts by heart), when my father's first letter came home. +In those days, before the great canal was cut, a voyage to the East +Indies was no light matter, lying as it did around the treacherous +Cape and through seas where a ship may lie becalmed for weeks. +So it was little wonder that my father's letter, written from Bombay, +was some time on its way. Still, when the news came it was good. +He had seen Mr. Elihu Sanderson, son of the Elihu mentioned in my +grandfather's Will, had presented his parchment and Testament, and +received some notes (most of which he sent home), together with a +sealed packet, directed in Amos Trenoweth's handwriting: "To the Son +of my House, who, having Counted all the Perils, is Resolute." +This packet, my father went on to say, contained much mysterious +matter, which would keep until he and his dear wife met. He added +that, for himself, he could divine no peril, nor any cause for his +dear wife to trouble, seeing that he had but to go to the island of +Ceylon, whence, having accomplished the commands contained in the +packet, he purposed to take ship and return with all speed to +England. This was the substance of the letter, wrapped around with +many endearing words, and much tender solicitude for Margery and the +little one, as that he hoped Jasper was tackling his letters like a +real scholar, and comforting his mother's heart, with more to this +effect; which made us weep very sorrowfully when the letter was read, +although we could not well have told why. As to the sealed packet, +my father would have been doubtless more explicit had he been without +a certain distrust of letters and letter-carriers, which, amid much +faith in the miraculous powers of the Post Office, I have known to +exist among us even in these later days. + +Than this blessed letter surely no written sheet was ever more read +and re-read; read to me every night before prayers were said, read to +Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Loveday, read (in extracts) to all the +neighbours of Polkimbra, for none knew certainly why Ezekiel had gone +to India except that, somewhat vaguely, it was to "better hisself." +How many times my mother read it, and kissed it, and cried over it, +God alone knows; I only know that her step, which had been failing of +late, grew firmer, and she went about the house with a light in her +face like "the face of an angel," as the vicar said. It may have +been: I have never since seen its like upon earth. + +After this came the great joy of sending an answer, which I wrote +(with infinite pains as to the capital letters) at my mother's +dictation. And then it was read over and corrected, and added to, +and finally directed, as my father had instructed us, to "Mr. Ezekiel +Trenoweth; care of John P. Eversleigh, Esq., of the East India +Company's Service, Colombo, Ceylon." I remember that my mother +sealed it with the red cornelian Ezekiel had given her when he asked +her to be his wife, and took it with her own hands to Penzance to +post, having, for the occasion, harnessed old Pleasure in the cart +for the first time since we had been alone. + +Then we had to wait again, and the little store of money grew small +indeed. But Aunt Elizabeth was a wonderful contriver, and tender of +heart besides, although in most things to be called a "hard" woman. +She had married, during my grandfather's long absence, Dr. Loveday, +of Lizard Town--a mild little man with a prodigious vanity in brass +buttons, and the most terrific religious beliefs, which did not in +the least alter his natural sweetness of temper. My aunt and uncle +(it was impossible to think of them except in this order) would often +drive or walk over to Lantrig, seldom without some little present, +which, together with my aunt's cap-box, would emerge from the back +seat, amid a _duetto_ something after this fashion:-- + + _My Aunt_. "So, my dear, we thought as we were driving in this + direction we would see how you were getting on; and + by great good fortune, or rather as I should say + (Jasper, do not hang your head so; it looks so + deceitful) by the will of Heaven (and Heaven's will + be done, you know, my dear, which must be a great + comfort to you in your sore affliction), as Cyrus was + driving into Cadgwith yesterday--were you not, + Cyrus?" + + _My Uncle_. "To be sure, my dear." + + _My Aunt_. "Well, as I was saying, as Cyrus was driving into + Cadgwith yesterday to see Martha George's husband, + who was run over by the Helston coach, and she such a + regular attendant at the Prayer-meeting, but in the + midst of life (Jasper, don't fidget)--well, whom + should he see but Jane Ann Collins, with the finest + pair of ducks, too, and costing a mere nothing. + Cyrus will bear me out." + + _My Uncle_. "Nothing at all, my dear. Jasper, come here and talk + to me. Do you know, Jasper, what happens to little + boys that tell lies? You do? Something terrible, + eh? Soul's perdition, my boy; soul's ev-er-last-ing + perdition. There, come and show me the pig." + +What agonies of conscience it must have cost these two good souls +thus to conspire together for benevolence, none ever knew. Nor was +it less pathetic that the fraud was so hollow and transparent. +I doubt not that the sin of it was washed out with self-reproving +tears, and cannot think that they were shed in vain. + +So the seasons passed, and we waited, till in the late summer of 1849 +(my father having been away nineteen months) there came another +letter to say that he was about to start for home. He had found what +he sought, so he said, but could not rightly understand its value, +or, indeed, make head or tail of it by himself, and dared not ask +strangers to help him. Perhaps, however, when he came home, Jasper +(who was such a scholar) would help him; and maybe the key would be +some aid. For the rest, he had been stricken with a fever--a malady +common enough in those parts--but was better, and would start in +something over a week, in the _Belle Fortune_, a barque of some 650 +tons register, homeward bound with a cargo of sugar, spices, and +coffee, and having a crew of about eighteen hands, with, he thought, +one or two passengers. The letter was full of strong hope and love, +so that my mother, who trembled a little when she read about the +fever, plucked up courage to smile again towards the close. The ship +would be due about October, or perhaps November. So once more we had +to resume our weary waiting, but this time with glad hearts, for we +knew that before Christmas the days of anxiety and yearning would be +over. + +The long summer drew to a glorious and golden September, and so +faded away in a veil of grey sky; and the time of watching was nearly +done. Through September the skies had been without cloud, and the +sea almost breathless, but with the coming of October came dirty +weather and a strong sou'-westerly wind, that gathered day by day, +until at last, upon the evening of October 11th, it broke into a +gale. My mother for days had been growing more restless and anxious +with the growing wind, and this evening had much ado to sit quietly +and endure. I remembered that as the storm raged without and tore at +the door-hinges, while the rain lashed and smote the tamarisk +branches against the panes, I sat by her knee before the kitchen fire +and read bits from my favourite "Holy War," which, in the pauses of +the storm, she would explain to me. + +I was much put to it that night, I recollect, by the questionable +morality at one point of Captain Credence, who in general was my +favourite hero, dividing that honour with General Boanerges for +the most part, but exciting more sympathy by reason of his wound--so +grievously I misread the allegory, or rather saw no allegory at +all. So my mother explained it to me, though all the while, poor +creature, her heart was racked with terror for _her_ Mansoul, beaten, +perhaps, at that moment from its body by the fury of that awful +night. Then when the fable's meaning was explained, and my +difficulty smoothed away, we fell to talking of father's home-coming, +in vain endeavours to cheat ourselves of the fears that rose again +with every angry bellow of the tempest, and agreed that his ship +could not possibly be due yet (rejoicing at this for the first time), +but must, we feigned, be lying in a dead calm off the West Coast of +Africa; until we almost laughed--God pardon us!--at the picture of +his anxiety to be home while such a storm was raging at the doors of +Lantrig. And then I listened to wonderful stories of the East Indies +and the marvels that men found there, and wondered whether father +would bring home a parrot, and if it would be as like Aunt Loveday as +the parrot down at the "Lugger Inn," at Polkimbra, and so crept +upstairs to bed to dream of Captain Credence and parrots, and the +"Lugger Inn" in the city of Mansoul, as though no fiends were +shouting without and whirling sea and sky together in one devil's +cauldron. + +How long I slept I know not; but I woke with the glare of a candle in +my eyes, to see my mother, all in white, standing by the bed, and in +her eyes an awful and soul-sickening horror. + +"Jasper, Jasper! wake up and listen!" + +I suppose I must have been still half asleep, for I lay looking at +her with dazzled sight, not rightly knowing whether this vision were +real or part of my strange dreams. + +"Jasper, for the love of God wake up!" + +At this, so full were her words of mortal fear, I shook off my +drowsiness and sat up in bed, wide awake now and staring at the +strange apparition. My mother was white as death, and trembling so +that the candle in her hand shook to and fro, casting wild dancing +shadows on the wall behind. + +"Oh, Jasper, listen, listen!" + +I listened, but could hear nothing save the splashing of spray and +rain upon my window, and above it the voice of the storm; now moaning +as a creature in pain, now rising and growing into an angry roar +whereat the whole house from chimney to base shook and shuddered, and +anon sinking slowly with loud sobbings and sighings as though the +anguish of a million tortured souls were borne down the blast. + +"Mother, I hear nothing but the storm." + +"Nothing but the storm! Oh, Jasper, are you sure you hear nothing +but the storm?" + +"Nothing else, mother, though that is bad enough." + +She seemed relieved a little, but still trembled sadly, and caught +her breath with every fresh roar. The tempest had gathered fury, and +was now raging as though Judgment Day were come, and earth about to +be blotted out. For some minutes we listened almost motionless, but +heard nothing save the furious elements; and, indeed, it was hard to +believe that any sound on earth could be audible above such a din. +At last I turned to my mother and said-- + +"Mother dear, it is nothing but the storm. You were thinking of +father, and that made you nervous. Go back to bed--it is so cold +here--and try to go to sleep. What was it you thought you heard?" + +"Dear Jasper, you are a good boy, and I suppose you are right, for +you can hear nothing, and I can hear nothing now. But, oh, Jasper! +it was so terrible, and I seemed to hear it so plainly; though I +daresay it was only my--Oh, God! there it is again! listen! listen!" + +This time I heard--heard clearly and unmistakably, and, hearing, felt +the blood in my veins turn to very ice. + +Shrill and distinct above the roar of the storm, which at the moment +had somewhat lulled, there rose a prolonged wail, or rather shriek, +as of many human voices rising slowly in one passionate appeal to the +mercy of Heaven, and dying away in sobbing, shuddering despair as the +wild blast broke out again with the mocking laughter of all the +fiends in the pit--a cry without similitude on earth, yet surely and +awfully human; a cry that rings in my ears even now, and will +continue to ring until I die. + +I sprang from bed, forced the window open and looked out. The wind +flung a drenching shower of spray over my face and thin night-dress, +then tore past up the hill. I looked and listened, but nothing could +be seen or heard; no blue light, nor indeed any light at all; no cry, +nor gun, nor signal of distress--nothing but the howling of the wind +as it swept up from the sea, the thundering of the surf upon the +beach below; and all around, black darkness and impenetrable night. +The blast caught the lattice from my hand as I closed the window, and +banged it furiously. I turned to look at my mother. She had fallen +forward on her knees, with her arms flung across the bed, speechless +and motionless, in such sort that I speedily grew possessed with an +awful fear lest she should be dead. As it was, I could do nothing +but call her name and try to raise the dear head that hung so heavily +down. Remember that I was at this time not eight years old, and had +never before seen a fainting fit, so that if a sight so like to death +bewildered me it was but natural. How long the fit lasted I cannot +say, but at last, to my great joy, my mother raised her head and +looked at me with a puzzled stare that gradually froze again to +horror as recollection came back. + +"Oh, Jasper, what could it be?--what could it be?" + +Alas! I knew not, and yet seemed to know too well. The cry still +rang in my ears and clamoured at my heart; while all the time a dull +sense told me that it must have been a dream, and a dull desire bade +me believe it so. + +"Jasper, tell me--it cannot have been--" + +She stopped as our eyes met, and the terrible suspicion grew and +mastered us, numbing, freezing, paralysing the life within us. +I tried to answer, but turned my head away. My mother sank once more +upon her knees, weeping, praying, despairing, wailing, while the +storm outside continued to moan and sob its passionate litany. + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +TELLS OF TWO STRANGE MEN THAT WATCHED THE SEA UPON POLKIMBRA BEACH. + +Morning came at last, and with the first grey light the storm had +spent its fury. By degrees my mother had grown calmer, and was now +sleeping peacefully upon her bed, worn out with the passion of her +terror. I had long ago dressed; but even had I wished to sleep +again, curiosity to know the meaning of that awful cry would have +been too strong for me. So, as soon as I saw that my mother was +asleep, I took my boots in my hand and crept downstairs. The kitchen +looked so ghostly in the dim light, that I had almost resolved to +give up my plan and go back, but reflected that it behoved me to play +the man, if only to be able to cheer mother when I came back. +So, albeit with my heart in my mouth, I drew back the bolt--that +surely, for all my care, never creaked so loudly before or since--and +stepped out into the cool air. The fresh breeze that smote my cheeks +as I sat down outside to put on my boots brought me back to the +everyday world--a world that seemed to make the events of the night +unreal and baseless, so that I had, with boyish elasticity of temper, +almost forgotten all fear as I began to descend the cliff towards +Ready-Money Cove. + +Before I go any further, it will be necessary to describe in a few +words that part of the coast which is the scene of my story. +Lantrig, as I have said, looks down upon Ready-Money Cove from the +summit of Pedn-glas, its northern arm. The cove itself is narrow, +running in between two scarred and rugged walls of serpentine, and +terminating in a little beach of whitest sand beneath a frowning and +precipitous cliff. It is easy to see its value in the eyes of +smugglers, for not only is the cove difficult of observation from the +sea, by reason of its straitness and the protection of its projecting +arms, but the height and abruptness of its cliffs also give it +seclusion from the land side. For Pedn-glas on the north rises sheer +from the sea, sloping downwards a little as it runs in to join the +mainland, but only enough to admit of a rough and winding path at its +inmost point, while to the south the cove is guarded by a strange +mass of rock that demands a somewhat longer description. + +For some distance the cliff ran out as on the north side, but, +suddenly breaking off as if cleft by some gigantic stroke, left a +gloomy column of rock, attached to it only by an isthmus that stood +some six or seven feet above high-water mark. This separate mass +went by the name of Dead Man's Rock--a name dark and dreadful enough, +but in its derivation innocent, having been but Dodmen, or "the stony +headland," until common speech perverted it. For this reason I +suppose I ought not to call it Dead Man's Rock, the "Rock" being +superfluous, but I give it the name by which it has always been +known, being to a certain extent suspicious of those antiquarian +gentlemen that sometimes, in their eagerness to restore a name, would +deface a tradition. + +Let me return to the rock. Under the neck that joins it to the main +cliff there runs a natural tunnel, which at low water leads to the +long expanse of Polkimbra Beach, with the village itself lying snugly +at its further end; so that, standing at the entrance of this curious +arch, one may see the little town, with the purple cliffs behind +framed between walls of glistening serpentine. The rock is always +washed by the sea, except at low water during the spring tides, +though not reaching out so far as Pedn-glas. In colour it is mainly +black as night, but is streaked with red stains that bear an awful +likeness to blood; and, though it may be climbed--and I myself have +done it more than once in search of eggs--it has no scrap of +vegetation save where, upon its summit, the gulls build their nests +on a scanty patch of grass and wild asparagus. + +By the time I had crossed the cove, the western sky was brilliant +with the reflected dawn. Above the cliffs behind, morning had edged +the flying wrack of indigo clouds with a glittering line of gold, +while the sea in front still heaved beneath the pale yellow light, as +a child sobs at intervals after the first gust of passion is +over-past. The tide was at the ebb, and the fresh breeze dropped as +I got under the shadow of Dead Man's Rock and looked through the +archway on to Polkimbra Sands. + +Not a soul was to be seen. The long stretch of beach had scarcely +yet caught the distinctness of day, but was already beginning to +glisten with the gathering light, and, as far as I could see, was +desolate. I passed through and clambered out towards the south side +of the rock to watch the sea, if perchance some bit of floating +wreckage might explain the mystery of last night. I could see +nothing. + +Stay! What was that on the ledge below me, lying on the brink just +above the receding wave? A sailor's cap! Somehow, the sight made me +sick with horror. It must have been a full minute before I dared to +open my eyes and look again. Yes, it was there! The cry of last +night rang again in my ears with all its supreme agony as I stood in +the presence of this silent witness of the dead--this rag of clothing +that told so terrible a history. + +Child as I was, the silent terror of it made me faint and giddy. +I shut my eyes again, and clung, all trembling, to the ledge. +Not for untold bribes could I have gone down and touched that +terrible thing, but, as soon as the first spasm of fear was over, I +clambered desperately back and on to the sands again, as though all +the souls of the drowned were pursuing me. + +Once safe upon the beach, I recovered my scattered wits a little. +I felt that I could not repass that dreadful rock, so determined to +go across the sands to Polkimbra, and homewards around the cliffs. +Still gazing at the sea as one fascinated, I made along the length of +the beach. The storm had thrown up vast quantities of weed, that +lined the water's edge in straggling lines and heaps, and every heap +in turn chained and riveted my shuddering eyes, that half expected to +see in each some new or nameless horror. + +I was half across the beach, when suddenly I looked up towards +Polkimbra, and saw a man advancing towards me along the edge of the +tide. + +He was about two hundred yards from me when I first looked. Heartily +glad to see any human being after my great terror, I ran towards him +eagerly, thinking to recognise one of my friends among the Polkimbra +fishermen. As I drew nearer, however, without attracting his +attention--for the soft sand muffled all sound of footsteps--two +things struck me. The first was that I had never seen a fisherman +dressed as this man was; the second, that he seemed to watch the sea +with an absorbed and eager gaze, as if expecting to find or see +something in the breakers. At last I was near enough to catch the +outline of his face, and knew him to be a stranger. + +He wore no hat, and was dressed in a red shirt and trousers that +ended in rags at the knee. His feet were bare, and his clothes clung +dripping to his skin. In height he could not have been much above +five feet six inches, but his shoulders were broad, and his whole +appearance, cold and exhausted as he seemed, gave evidence of great +strength. His tangled hair hung over a somewhat weak face, but the +most curious feature about the man was the air of nervous expectation +that marked, not only his face, but every movement of his body. +Altogether, under most circumstances, I should have shunned him, but +fear had made me desperate. At the distance of about twenty yards I +stopped and called to him. + +I had advanced somewhat obliquely from behind, so that at the sound +of my voice he turned sharply round and faced me, but with a +terrified start that was hard to account for. On seeing only a +child, however, the hesitation faded out of his eyes, and he advanced +towards me. As he approached, I could see that he was shivering with +cold and hunger. + +"Boy," he said, in an eager and expectant voice, "what are you doing +out on the beach so early?" + +"Oh, sir!" I answered, "there was such a dreadful storm last night, +and we--that is, mother and I--heard a cry, we thought; and oh! +I have seen--" + +"What have you seen?"--and he caught me by the arm with a nervous +grip. + +"Only a cap, sir," I said, shrinking--"only a cap; but I climbed up +on Dead Man's Rock just now--the rock at the end of the beach--and I +saw a cap lying there, and it seemed--" + +"Come along and show it to me!" and he began to run over the sands +towards the rock, dragging me helpless after him. + +Suddenly he stopped. + +"You saw nothing else?" he asked, facing round and looking into my +eyes. + +"No, sir." + +"Nor anybody?" + +"Nobody, sir." + +"You are sure you saw nobody but me? You didn't happen to see a tall +man with black hair, and rings in his ears?" + +"Oh, no, sir." + +"You'll swear you saw no such man? Swear it now; say, 'So help me, +God, I haven't seen anybody on the beach but you.'" + +I swore it. + +"Say, 'Strike me blind if I have!'" + +I repeated the words after him, and, with a hurried look around, he +set off running again towards the rock. I had much ado to keep from +tumbling, and even from crying aloud with pain, so tight was his +grip. Fast as we went, the man's teeth chattered and his limbs +shook; his wet clothes flapped and fluttered in the cold morning +breeze; his face was drawn and pinched with exhaustion, but he never +slackened his pace until we reached Dead Man's Rock. Here he stopped +and looked around again. + +"Is there any place to hide in hereabouts?" he suddenly asked. + +The oddness of the question took me aback: and, indeed, the whole +conduct of the man was so strange that I was heartily frightened, and +longed greatly to run away. There was no help for it, however, so I +made shift to answer-- + +"There is a nice cave in Ready-Money Cove, which is the next cove to +this, sir. The smugglers used to use it because it was hidden so, +but--" + +I suppose my eyes told him that I was wondering why he should want to +hide, for he broke in again-- + +"Well, show me this cap. Out on the face of this rock, you say-- +what's the name? Dead Man's Rock, eh? Well, it's an ugly name +enough, and an ugly rock enough!" he added, with a shiver. + +I climbed up the rock, and he after me, until we gained the ledge +where I had stood before. I looked down. The cap was still lying +there, and the tide had ebbed still further. + +My companion looked for a moment, then, with a short cry, scrambled +quickly down and picked it up. To me it had looked like any ordinary +sailor's cap, but he examined it, fingered it, and pulled it about, +muttering all the time, so that I imagined it must be his own, though +at a loss to know why he made so much of recovering it. At last he +climbed up again, holding it in his hands, and still muttering to +himself-- + +"His cap, sure enough; nothing in it, though. But he was much too +clever a devil. However, he's gone right enough; I knew he must, and +this proves it, curse him! Well, I'll wear it. He's not left behind +as much as he thought, but mad enough he'd be to think I was his +heir. I'll wear it for old acquaintance' sake. Sit down, boy," he +said aloud to me; "we're safe here, and can't be seen. I want to +talk with you." + +The rocky ledge on which we stood was about seven feet long and three +or four in breadth. On one side of it ran down the path by which we +had ascended; the other end broke off with a sheer descent into the +sea of some forty feet in the present state of the tide. High above +us rose an unscaleable cliff; at our feet lay a short descent to the +ledge on which the cap had rested, and after that another precipice. +It was not a pleasant position in which to be left alone with this +strange companion, but I was helpless, and perhaps the trace of +weakness and a something not altogether evil in his face, gave me +some courage. Little enough it was, however, and in mere desperation +I sat down on the side by the path. My companion flung himself down +on the other side, with his legs dangling over the ledge, and so sat +for a minute or two watching the sea. + +The early sun was now up, and its oblique rays set the waves dancing +with a myriad points of fire. Above us the rock cast its shadow into +the green depths below, making them seem still greener and deeper. +To my left I could see the shining sands of Polkimbra, still +desolate, and, beyond, the purple line of cliffs towards Kynance; on +my right the rock hid everything from view, except the open sea and +the gulls returning after the tempest to inspect and pry into the +fresh masses of weed and wreckage. I looked timidly at my companion. +He was still gazing out towards the sea, apparently deep in thought. +The cap was on his head, and his legs still dangled, while he +muttered to himself as if unconscious of my presence. Presently, +however, he turned towards me. + +"Got anything to eat?" + +I had forgotten it in my terror, but I had, as I crossed the kitchen, +picked up a hunch of bread to serve me for breakfast. This, with a +half-apologetic air, as if to deprecate its smallness, I produced +from my pocket and handed to him. He snatched it without a word, and +ate it ravenously, keeping his eye fixed upon me in the most +embarrassing way. + +"Got any more?" + +I was obliged to confess I had not, though sorely afraid of +displeasing him. He turned still further towards me, and stared +without a word, then suddenly spoke again. + +"What is your name?" + +Truly this man had the strangest manner of questioning. However, I +answered him duly-- + +"Jasper Trenoweth." + +"God in heaven! What?" + +He had started forward, and was staring at me with a wild surprise. +Unable to comprehend why my name should have this effect on him, but +hopeless of understanding this extraordinary man's behaviour, I +repeated the two words. + +His face had turned to an ashy white, but he slowly took his eyes off +me and turned them upon the sea, almost as though afraid to meet +mine. There was a pause. + +"Father by any chance answering to the name of Ezekiel--Ezekiel +Trenoweth?" + +Even in my fright I can remember being struck with this strange way +of speaking, as though my father were a dog; but a new fear had +gained possession of me. Dreading to hear the answer, yet wildly +anxious, I cried-- + +"Oh, yes. Do you know him? He was coming home from Ceylon, and +mother was so anxious; and then, what with the storm last night and +the cry that we heard, we were so frightened! Oh! do you know +--do you think--" + +My words died away in terrified entreaty; but he seemed not to hear +me. Still gazing out on the sea, he said-- + +"Sailed in the _Belle Fortune_, barque of 600 tons, or thereabouts, +bound for Port of Bristol? Oh, ay, I knew him--knew him well. +And might this here place be Lantrig?" + +"Our house is on the cliff above the next cove," I replied. +"But, oh! please tell me if anything has happened to him!" + +"And why should anything have happened to Ezekiel Trenoweth? +That's what I want to know. Why should anything have happened to +him?" + +He was still watching the waves as they danced and twinkled in the +sun. He never looked towards me, but plucked with nervous fingers at +his torn trousers. The gulls hovered around us with melancholy +cries, as they wheeled in graceful circles and swooped down to their +prey in the depths at our feet. Presently he spoke again in a +meditative, far-away voice-- + +"Ezekiel Trenoweth, fair, broad, and six foot two in his socks; why +should anything have happened to him?" + +"But you seem to know him, and know the ship he sailed in. Tell me-- +please tell me what has happened. Did you sail in the same ship? +And, if so, what has become of it?" + +"I sailed," said my companion, still examining the horizon, "from +Ceylon on the 12th of July, in the ship _Mary Jane_, bound for +Liverpool. Consequently, if Ezekiel Trenoweth sailed in the _Belle +Fortune_ we couldn't very well have been in the same ship, and that's +logic," said he, turning to me for the first time with a watery and +uncertain smile, but quickly withdrawing his eyes to their old +occupation. + +But he had lifted a great load from my heart, so that for very joy at +knowing my father was not among the crew of the _Mary Jane_ I could +not speak for a time, but sat watching his face, and thinking how I +should question him next. + +"Sailed in the _Mary Jane_, bound for Liverpool," he repeated, his +face twitching slightly, and his hands still plucking at his +trousers, "sailed along with--never mind who. And this boy's Ezekiel +Trenoweth's son, and I knew him; knew him well." His voice was +husky, and he seemed to have something in his throat, but he went on: +"Well, it's a strange world. To think of him being dead!" looking at +the cap--which he had taken off his head. + +"What! Father dead?" + +"No, my lad, t'other chap: him as this cap belonged to. Ah, he was a +devil, he was. Can't fancy him dead, somehow; seemed as though the +water wasn't made as could have drowned him; always said he was born +for the gallows, and joked about it. But he's gone this time, and +I've got his cap. 'Tis a hard thought that I should outlive him; +but, curse him, I've done it, and here's his cap for proof--why, what +the devil is the lad staring at?" + +During his muttered soliloquy I had turned for a moment to look +across Polkimbra Beach, when suddenly my eyes were arrested and my +heart again set violently beating by a sight that almost made me +doubt whether the events of the morning were not still part of a wild +and disordered dream. For there, at about fifty yards' distance, and +advancing along the breakers' edge, was another man, dressed like my +companion, and also watching the sea. + +"What's the matter, boy? Speak, can't you?" + +"It's a man." + +"A man! Where?" + +He made a motion forwards to look over the edge, but checked himself, +and crouched down close against the rock. + +"Lie down!" he murmured in a hoarse whisper. "Lie down low and look +over." + +My arm was clutched as though by a vice. I sank down flat, and +peered over the edge. + +"It's a man," I said, "not fifty yards off, and coming this way. +He has on a red shirt, and is watching the sea just as you did. +I don't think that he saw us." + +"For the Lord's sake don't move. Look; is he tall and dark?" + +His terrified excitement was dreadful. I thought I should have had +to shriek with pain, so tightly he clutched me, but found voice to +answer-- + +"Yes, he seems tall, and dark too, though I can't well see at--" + +"Has he got earrings?" + +"I can't see; but he walks with a stoop, and seems to have a sword or +something slung round his waist." + +"God defend us! that's he! Curse him, curse him! Lie down--lie +down, I say! It's death if he catches sight of us." + +We cowered against the rock. My companion's face was livid, and his +lips worked as though fingers were plucking at them, but made no +sound. I never saw such abject, hopeless terror. We waited thus for +a full minute, and then I peered over the ledge again. + +He was almost directly beneath us now, and was still watching the +sea. At his side hung a short sheath, empty. I could not well see +his face, but the rings in his ears glistened in the sunlight. + +I drew back cautiously, for my companion was plucking at my jacket. + +"Listen," he said--and his hoarse voice was sunk so low that I could +scarcely catch his words--"Listen. If he catches us it's death-- +death to me, but perhaps he may let you off, though he's a +cold-blooded, murderous devil. However, there's no saying but you +might get off. Any way, it'll be safest for you to have this. +Here, take it quick, and stow it away in your jacket, so as he can't +see it. For the love of God, look sharp!" + +He took something out of a pocket inside his shirt, and forced it +into my hands. What it was I could not see, so quickly he made me +hide it in my jacket. But I caught a glimpse of something that +looked like brass, and the packet was hard and heavy. + +"It's death, I say; but you may be lucky. If he does for me, swear +you'll never give it up to him. Take your Bible oath you'll never do +that. And look here: if I'm lucky enough to get off, swear you'll +give it back. Swear it. Say, 'Strike me blind!'" + +He clutched me again. Shaking and trembling, I gave the promise. + +"And look, here's a letter; put it away and read it after. If he +does for me--curse him!--you keep what I've given you. Yes, keep it; +it's my last Will and Testament, upon my soul. But you ought to go +half shares with little Jenny; you ought, you know. You'll find out +where she lives in that there letter. But you'll never give it up to +him. Swear it. Swear it again." + +Again I promised. + +"Mind you, if you do, I'll haunt you. I'll curse you dying, and +that's an awful thing to happen to a man. Look over again. +He mayn't be coming--perhaps he'll go through to the next beach, and +then we'll run for it." + +Again I peered over, but drew back as if shot; for just below me was +a black head with glittering earrings, and its owner was steadily +coming up the path towards us. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +TELLS HOW A SONG WAS SUNG AND A KNIFE DRAWN UPON DEAD MAN'S ROCK. + +There was no escape. I have said that the ascent of Dead Man's Rock +was possible, but that was upon the northern side, from which we were +now utterly cut off. Hemmed in as we were between the sheer cliff +and the precipice, we could only sit still and await the man's +coming. Utter fear had apparently robbed my companion of all his +faculties, for he sat, a stony image of despair, looking with +staring, vacant eyes at the spot where his enemy would appear; while +as for me, dreading I knew not what, I clung to the rock and listened +breathlessly to the sound of the footsteps as they came nearer and +nearer. Presently, within about fifteen feet, as I guess, of our +hiding-place, they suddenly ceased, and a full, rich voice broke out +in song-- + + "Sing hey! for the dead man's eyes, my lads; + Sing ho! for the dead man's hand; + For his glittering eyes are the salt sea's prize, + And his fingers clutch the sand, my lads-- + Sing ho! how they grip the land! + + "Sing hey! for the dead man's lips, my lads; + Sing ho! for the dead man's soul. + At his red, red lips the merrymaid sips + For the kiss that his sweetheart stole, my lads-- + Sing ho! for the bell shall toll!" + +The words were full and clear upon the morning air--so clear that +their weird horror, together with the strangeness of the tune (which +had a curious catch in the last line but one) and, above all, the +sweetness of the voice, held me spellbound. I glanced again at my +companion. He had not changed his position, but still sat +motionless, save that his dry lips were again working and twitching +as though they tried to follow the words of the song. Presently the +footsteps again began to advance, and again the voice broke out-- + + "So it's hey! for the homeward bound, my lads, + And ho! for the drunken crew. + For his messmates round lie dead and drowned, + And the devil has got his due, my Lads-- + Sing ho! but he--" + +He saw us. He had turned the corner, and stood facing us; and as he +faced us, I understood my companion's horror. The new-comer wore a +shirt of the same red colour as my comrade, and trousers of the same +stuff, but less cut and torn with the rocks. At his side hung an +empty sheath, that must once have held a short knife, and the handle +of another knife glittered above his waistband. But it was his face +that fascinated all my gaze. Even had I no other cause to remember +it, I could never forget the lines of that wicked mouth, or the +glitter in those cruel eyes as their first sharp flash of surprise +faded into a mocking and evil smile. + +For a minute or so he stood tranquilly watching our confusion, while +the smile grew more and more devilishly bland. Not a word was +spoken. What my comrade did I know not, but, for myself, I could not +take my eyes from that fiendish face. + +At last he spoke: in a sweet and silvery voice, that in company with +such eyes was an awful and fantastic lie, he spoke-- + +"Well, this is pleasant indeed. To run across an old comrade in +flesh and blood when you thought him five fathom deep in the salt +water is one of the pleasantest things in life, isn't it, lad? +To put on sackcloth and ashes, to go about refusing to be comforted, +to find no joy in living because an old shipmate is dead and drowned, +and then suddenly to come upon him doing the very same for you--why, +there's nothing that compares with it for real, hearty pleasure; is +there, John? You seem a bit dazed, John: it's too good to be true, +you think? Well, it shows your good heart; shows what I call real +feeling. But you always were a true friend, always the one to depend +upon, eh, John? Why don't you speak, John, and say how glad you are +to see your old friend back, alive and hearty?" + +John's lips were trembling, and something seemed working in his +throat, but no sound came. + +"Ah, John, you were always the one for feeling a thing, and now the +joy is too much for you. Considerate, too, it was of you, and really +kind--but that's you, John, all over--to wear an old shipmate's cap +in affectionate memory. No, John, don't deprive yourself of it." + +The wretched man felt with quivering fingers for the cap, took it +off and laid it on the rock beside me, but never spoke. + +"And who is the boy, John? But, there, you were always one to +make friends. Everybody loves you; they can't help themselves. +Lucy loved you when she wouldn't look at me, would she? You were +always so gentle and quiet, John, except perhaps when the drink was +in you: and even then you didn't mean any harm; it was only your +play, wasn't it, John?" + +John's face was a shade whiter, and again something worked in his +throat, but still he uttered no word. + +"Well, anyhow, John, it's a real treat to see you--and looking so +well, too. To think that we two, of all men, should have been on the +jib-boom when she struck! By the way, John, wasn't there another +with us? Now I come to think of it, there must have been another. +What became of him? Did he jump too, John?" + +John found speech at last. "No; I don't think he jumped." The words +came hoarsely and with difficulty. I looked at him; cold and +shivering as he was, the sweat was streaming down his face. + +"No? I wonder why." + +No answer. + +"You're quite sure about it, John? Because, you know, it would be a +thousand pities if he were thrown up on this desolate shore without +seeing the faces of his old friends. So I hope you are quite sure, +John; think again." + +"He didn't jump." + +"No?" + +"He fell." + +"Poor fellow, poor fellow!" The words came in the softest, sweetest +tones of pity. "I suppose there is no mistake about his melancholy +end?" + +"I saw him fall. He just let go and fell; it's Bible oath, Captain-- +it's Bible oath. That's how it happened; he just--let go--and fell. +I saw it with my very eyes, and--Captain, it was your knife." +To this effect John, with great difficulty and a nervous shifting +stare that wandered from the Captain to me until it finally rested +somewhere out at sea. + +The Captain gave a sharp keen glance, smiled softly, set his thin +lips together as though whistling inaudibly, and turned to me. + +"So you know John, my boy? He's a good fellow, is John; just the +sort of quiet, steady, Christian man to make a good companion for the +young. No swearing, drinking, or vice about John Railton; and so +truthful, too--the very soul of truth! Couldn't tell a lie for all +the riches of the Indies. Ah, you are in luck to have such a friend! +It's not often a good companion is such good company." + +I looked helplessly at the model of truth to see how he took this +tribute; but his eyes were still fixed in that eternal stare at the +sea. + +"And so, John, you saw him fall? 'Who saw him die?'--'I,' said the +soul of truth, 'with my little eye'--and you have very sharp eyes, +John. However, the poor fellow's gone; 'fell off,' you say? I don't +wonder you feel it so; but, John, with all our sympathy for the +unfortunate dead, don't you think this is a good opportunity for +reading the Will? We three, you know, may possibly never meet again, +and I am sure our young friend--what name did you say? Jasper?--I am +sure that our young friend Mr. Jasper would like the melancholy +satisfaction of hearing the Will." + +The man's eyes were devilish. John, as he faced about and caught +their gaze, looked round like a wild beast at bay. + +"Will? What do you mean? I don't know--I haven't got no Will." + +"None of your own, John, none of your own; but maybe you might know +something of the last Will and Testament of--shall we say--another +party? Think, John; don't hurry, think a bit." + +"Lord, strike me--" + +"Hush, John, hush! Think of our young friend Mr. Jasper. Besides, +you know, you were such a friend of the deceased--such a real +friend--and knew all his secrets so thoroughly, John, that I am sure +if you only consider quietly, you must remember; you who watched his +last moments, who saw him--'fall,' did you say?" + +No answer. + +"Come, come, John; I'm sorry to press you, but really our young +friend and I must insist on an answer. For consider, John, if you +refuse to join in our conversation, we shall have to go--reluctantly, +of course, but still we shall have to go--and talk somewhere else. +Just think how very awkward that would be." + +"You devil--you devil!" + +John's voice was still hoarse and low, but it had a something in it +now that sounded neither of hope nor fear. + +"Well, yes; devil if you like: but the devil must have his due, you +know-- + + "And the devil has got his due, my lads-- + Sing hey! but he waits for you! + +"Yes, John, devil or no devil, _I'm_ waiting for you. As to +having my due, why, a lucky fellow like you shouldn't grudge it. +Why, you've got Lucy, John: what more can you want? We both wanted +Lucy, but you got her, and now she's waiting at home for you. +It would be awkward if I turned up with the news that you were +languishing in gaol--I merely put a case, John--and little Jenny +wouldn't have many sweethearts if it got about that her father--and I +suppose you are her father--" + +Before the words were well out of his mouth John had him by the +throat. There was a short, fierce struggle, an oath, a gleam of +light--and then, with a screech of mortal pain and a wild clutch at +the air, my companion fell backwards over the cliff. + + +It was all the work of a moment--a shriek, a splash, and then +silence. How long the silence lasted I cannot tell. What happened +next--whether I cried or fainted, looked or shut my eyes--is to me an +absolute blank. Only I remember gradually waking up to the fact that +the Captain was standing over me, wiping his knife on a piece of weed +he had picked up on the rock, and regarding me with a steady stare. + +I now suppose that during those few moments my life hung in the +balance: but at the time I was too dazed and stunned to comprehend +anything. The Captain slowly replaced his knife, hesitated, went to +the ledge and peered over, and then finally came back to me. + +"Are you the kind of boy that's talkative?" His voice was as sweet as +ever, but his eyes were scorching me like live coals. + +I suppose I must have signified my denial, for he went on-- + +"You heard what he called me? He called me a devil; a devil, mark +you; and that's what I am." + +In my state of mind I could believe anything; so I easily believed +this. + +"Being a devil, naturally I can hear what little boys say, no matter +where I am; and when little boys are talkative I can reach them, no +matter how they hide. I come on them in bed sometimes, and sometimes +from behind when they are not looking; there's no escaping me. +You've heard of Apollyon perhaps? Well, that's who I am." + +I had heard of Apollyon in Bunyan; and I had no doubt he was speaking +the truth. + +"I catch little boys when they are not looking, and carry them off, +and then their fathers and mothers don't see any more of them. +But they die very slowly, very slowly indeed--you will find out how +if ever I catch you talking." + +But I did not at all want to know; I was quite satisfied, and +apparently he was also; for, after staring at me a little longer, he +told me to get up and go down the rock in front of him. + +The agonies I suffered during that descent no pen can describe. +Every moment I expected to feel my shoulder gripped from behind, or +to feel the hands of some mysterious and infernal power around my +neck. Close behind me followed my companion, humming-- + + "And the devil has got his due, my lads-- + Sing hey! but he waits for you!" + +And though I was far from singing hey! at the prospect, I felt that +he meant what he said. + +Arrived at the foot of the rock, we passed through the archway on to +Ready-Money Cove. Turning down to the edge of the sea, the Captain +scanned the water narrowly, but there was no trace of the hapless +John. With a muttered curse, he began quickly to climb out along the +north side of the rock, just above the sea-level, and looked again +into the depths. Once more he was disappointed. Flinging off his +clothes, he dived again and again, until from sheer exhaustion he +crept out, bundled on his shirt and trousers, and climbed back to me. + +"Curse him! where can he be?" + +I now saw for the first time how terribly worn and famished the man +was: he looked like a wolf, and his white teeth were bare in his +rage. He had cut his foot on the rock. Still keeping his evil eye +upon me, he knelt down by the water's edge and began slowly to bathe +the wound. + +"By the way, boy, what did you say your name was? Jasper? Jasper +what?" + +"Trenoweth." + +"Ten thousand devils!" + +He was on his feet, and had gripped me by the shoulder with a furious +clutch. I turned sick and cold with terror. The blue sky swam and +circled around me: then came mist and black darkness, lit only by the +gleam of two terrible eyes: a shout--and I knew no more. + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +TELLS HOW THE SAILOR GEORGIO RHODOJANI GAVE EVIDENCE AT THE +"LUGGER INN." + +I came gradually back to consciousness amid a buzz of voices. +Uncle Loveday was bending over me, his every button glistening with +sympathy, and his face full of kindly anxiety. What had happened, or +how I came to be lying thus upon the sand, I could not at first +remember, until my gaze, wandering over my uncle's shoulder, met the +Captain's eyes regarding me with a keen and curious stare. + +He was standing in the midst of a small knot of fishermen, every now +and then answering their questions with a gesture, a shrug of the +shoulders, or shake of the head; but chiefly regarding my recovery +and waiting, as I could see, for me to speak. + +"Poor boy!" said Uncle Loveday. "Poor boy! I suppose the sight of +this man frightened him." + +I caught the Captain's eye, and nodded feebly. + +"Ah, yes, yes. You see," he explained, turning to the shipwrecked +man, "your sudden appearance upset him: and to tell you the honest +truth, my friend, in your present condition--in your present +condition, mind you--your appearance is perhaps somewhat--startling. +Shall we say, startling?" + +In answer to my uncle's apologetic hesitation the stranger merely +spread out his palms and shrugged his shoulders. + +"Ah, yes. A foreigner evidently. Well, well, although our coast is +not precisely hospitable, I believe its inhabitants are at any rate +free from that reproach. Jasper, my boy, can you walk now? If so, +Joseph here will see you home, and we will do our best for the--the-- +foreign gentleman thus unceremoniously cast on our shores." + +My uncle seemed to regard magnificence of speech as the natural due +of a foreigner: whether from some hazy conception of "foreign +politeness," or a hasty deduction that what was not the language of +one part of the world must be that of another, I cannot say. At any +rate, the fishermen regarded him approvingly as the one man who +could--if human powers were equal to it--extricate them from the +present deadlock. + +"You do not happen, my friend, to be in a position to inform us +whether any--pardon the expression--any corpses are now lying on the +rocks to bear witness to this sad catastrophe?" + +Again the stranger made a gesture of perplexity. + +"Dear, dear! I forgot. Jasper, when you get home, read very +carefully that passage about the Tower of Babel. Whatever the cause +of that melancholy confusion, its reality is impressed upon us when +we stand face to face with one whom I may perhaps be allowed to call, +metaphorically, a dweller in Mesopotamia." + +As no one answered, my uncle took silence for consent, and called him +so twice--to his own great satisfaction and the obvious awe of the +fishermen. + +"It is evident," he continued, "that this gentleman (call him by what +name you will) is in immediate need of food and raiment. If such, as +I do not doubt, can be obtained at Polkimbra, our best course is to +accompany him thither. I trust my proposition meets with his +approval." + +It met, at any rate, with the approval of the fishermen, who +translated Uncle Loveday's speech into gestures. Being answered with +a nod of the head and a few hasty foreign words, they began to lead +the stranger away in their midst. As he turned to go, he glanced for +the last time at me with a strange flickering smile, at which my +heart grew sick. Uncle Loveday lingered behind to adjure Joe to be +careful of me as we went up the cliff, and then, with a promise that +he would run in to see mother later in the day, trotted after the +rest. They passed out of sight through the archway of Dead Man's +Rock. + +For a minute or so we plodded across the sand in silence. Joe +Roscorla was Uncle Loveday's "man," a word in our parts connoting +ability to look after a horse, a garden, a pig or two, or, indeed, +anything that came in the way of being looked after. At the present +moment I came in that way; consequently, after some time spent in +reflective silence, Joe began to speak. + +"You'm looking wisht." + +"Am I, Joe?" + +"Mortal." + +There was a pause: then Joe continued-- + +"I don't hold by furriners: let alone they be so hard to get +along with in the way of convarsing, they be but a heathen lot. +But, Jasper, warn't it beautiful?" + +"What, Joe?" + +"Why, to see the doctor tackle the lingo. Beautiful, I culls it; but +there, he's a scholard, and no mistake, and 'tain't no good for to +say he ain't. Not as ever I've heerd it said." + +"But, Joe, the man didn't seem to understand him." + +"Durn all furriners, say I; they be so cursed pigheaded. Understand? +I'll go bail he understood fast enough." + +Joe's opinions coincided so fatally with my certainty that I held my +tongue. + +"A dweller in--what did he call the spot, Jasper?" + +"Mesopotamia." + +"Well, I can't azacly say as I've seen any from them parts, but they +be all of a piece. Thicky chap warn't in the way when prettiness was +sarved out, anyhow. Of all the cut-throat chaps as ever I see--Mark +my words, 'tain't no music as he's come after." + +This seemed so indisputable that I did not venture to contradict it. + +"I bain't clear about thicky wreck. Likely as not 'twas the one I +seed all yesterday tacking about: and if so be as I be right, a +pretty lot of lubbers she must have had aboard. Jonathan, the +coast-guard, came down to Lizard Town this morning, and said he seed +a big vessel nigh under the cliffs toward midnight, or fancied he +seed her: but fustly Jonathan's a buffle-head, and secondly 'twas +pitch-dark; so if as he swears there weren't no blue light, 'tain't +likely any man could see, let alone a daft fule like Jonathan. +But, there, 'tain't no good for to blame he; durn Government! say I, +for settin' one man, and him a born fule, to mind seven mile o' coast +on a night when an airey mouse cou'dn' see his hand afore his face." + +"What was the vessel like, Joe, that you saw?" + +"East Indyman, by the looks of her; and a passel of lubberin' +furriners aboard, by the way she was worked. I seed her miss stays +twice myself: so when Jonathan turns up wi' this tale, I says to +myself, 'tis the very same. Though 'tis terrible queer he never +heard nowt; but he ain't got a ha'porth o' gumption, let alone that +by time he's been cloppin' round his seven mile o' beat half a dozen +ships might go to kingdom come." + +With this, for we had come to the door of Lantrig, Joe bid me +good-bye, and turned along the cliffs to seek fresh news at +Polkimbra. + +Instead of going indoors at once I watched his short, oddly-shaped +figure stride away, and then sat down on the edge of the cliff for a +minute to collect my thoughts. The day was ripening into that mellow +glory which is the peculiar grace of autumn. Below me the sea, still +flaked with spume, was gradually heaving to rest; the morning light +outlined the cliffs in glistening prominence, and clothed them, as +well as the billowy clouds above, with a reality which gave the lie +to my morning's adventure. The old doorway, too, looked so familiar +and peaceful, the old house so reassuring, that I half wondered if I +had not two lives, and were not coming back to the old quiet everyday +experience again. + +Suddenly I remembered the packet and the letter. I put my hand into +my pocket and drew them out. The packet was a tin box, strapped +around with a leathern band: on the top, between the band and the +box, was a curious piece of yellow metal that looked like the half of +a waist-buckle, having a socket but without any corresponding hook. +On the metal were traced some characters which I could not read. +The tin box was heavy and plain, and the strap soaking with salt +water. + +I turned to the letter; it was all but a pulp, and in its present +state illegible. Carefully smoothing it out, I slipped it inside the +strap and turned to hide my prize; for such was my fear of the man +who called himself Apollyon, that I could know no peace of mind +whilst it remained about me. How should I hide it? After some +thought, I remembered that a stone or two in the now empty cow-house +had fallen loose. With a hasty glance over my shoulder, I crept +around and into the shed. The stones came away easily in my hand. +With another hurried look, I slipped the packet into the opening, +stole out of the shed, and entered the house by the back door. + +My mother had been up for some time--it was now about nine o'clock-- +and had prepared our breakfast. Her face was still pale, but some of +its anxiety left it as I entered. She was evidently waiting for me +to speak. Something in my looks, however, must have frightened her, +for, as I said nothing, she began to question me. + +"Well, Jasper, is there any news?" + +"There was a ship wrecked on Dead Man's Rock last night, but they've +not found anything except--" + +"What was it called?" + +"The _Mary Jane_--that is--I don't quite know." + +Up to this time I had forgotten that mother would want to know about +my doings that morning. As an ordinary thing, of course I should +have told her whatever I had seen or heard, but my terror of the +Captain and the awful consequences of saying too much now flashed +upon me with hideous force. I had heard about the _Mary Jane_ from +the unhappy John. What if I had already said too much? I bent over +my breakfast in confusion. + +After a dreadful pause, during which I felt, though I could not see, +the astonishment in my mother's eyes, she said-- + +"You don't quite know?" + +"No; I think it must have been the _Mary Jane_, but there was a +strange sailor picked up. Uncle Loveday found him, and he seemed to +be a foreigner, and he said--I mean--I thought--it was the name, +but--" + +This was worse and worse. Again at my wits' end, I tried to go on +with my breakfast. After awhile I looked up, and saw my mother +watching me with a look of mingled surprise and reproach. + +"Was this sailor the only one saved?" + +"No--that is, I mean--yes; they only found one." + +I had never lied to my mother before, and almost broke down with the +effort. Words seemed to choke me, and her saddening eyes filled me +with torment. + +"Jasper dear, what is the matter with you? Why are you so strange?" + +I tried to look astonished, but broke down miserably. Do what I +would, my eyes seemed to be beyond my control; they would not meet +her steady gaze. + +"Uncle Loveday is coming up later on. He's looking after the Cap--I +mean the sailor, and said he would run in afterwards." + +"What is this sailor like?" + +This question fairly broke me down. Between my dread of the Captain +and her pained astonishment, I could only sit stammering and longing +for the earth to gape and swallow me up. Suddenly a dreadful +suspicion struck my mother. + +"Jasper! Jasper! it cannot be--you cannot mean--that it was _his_ +ship?" + +"No, mother, no! Father is all right. He said--I mean--it was not +his ship." + +"Oh! thank God! But you are hiding something from me! What is it? +Jasper dear, what are you hiding?" + +"Mother, I think it was the _Mary Jane_. But it was not father's +ship. Father's all right. And, mother, don't ask me any more; Uncle +Loveday will tell all about it. And--I'm not very well, mother. I +think--" + +Want of sleep, indeed, and the excitement of the morning, had broken +me down. My mother stifled her desire to hear more, and tenderly saw +me to bed, guessing my fatigue, but only dimly apprehensive of +anything beyond. In bed I lay all that morning, but could get no +sleep. The vengeance of that dreadful man seemed to fill the little +room and charge the atmosphere with horror. "I come on them in bed +sometimes, and sometimes from behind when they're not looking"--the +words rang in my ears, and could not be muffled by the bed-clothes; +whilst, if I began to doze, the dreadful burthen of his song-- + + "And the devil has got his due, my lads-- + Sing ho! but he waits for you!"-- + +With the peculiar catch of its lilt, would suddenly make me start up, +wide awake, with every nerve in my body dancing to its grisly +measure. + +At last, towards noon, I dozed off into a restless slumber, but only +to see each sight and hear each sound repeated with every grotesque +and fantastic variation. Dead Man's Rock rose out of a sea of blood, +peopled with hundreds of ghastly faces, each face the distorted +likeness of John or the Captain. Blood was everywhere--on their +shirts, their hands, their faces, in splashes across the rock itself, +in vivid streaks across the spume of the sea. The very sun peered +through a blood-red fog, and the waves, the mournful gulls, the +echoes from the cliff, took up the everlasting chorus, led by one +silvery demoniac voice-- + + "Sing ho! but he waits for you!" + +Finally, as I lay tossing and tormented with this phantom horror in +my eyes and ears, the sound died imperceptibly away into the soft +hush of two well-known voices, and I opened my eyes to see mother +with Uncle Loveday standing at my bedside. + +"The boy's a bit feverish," said my uncle's voice; "he has not got +over his fright just yet." + +"Hush! he's waking!" replied my mother; and as I opened my eyes she +bent down and kissed me. How inexpressibly sweet was that kiss after +the nightmare of my dream! + +"Jasper dear, are you better now? Try to lie down and get some more +sleep." + +But I was eager to know what news Uncle Loveday had to tell, so I sat +up and questioned him. There was little enough; though, delivered +with much pomp, it took some time in telling. Roughly, it came to +this:-- + +A body had been discovered--the body of a small infant--washed up on +the Polkimbra Beach. This would give an opportunity for an inquest; +and, in fact, the coroner was to arrive that afternoon from Penzance +with an interpreter for the evidence of the strange sailor, who, it +seemed, was a Greek. Little enough had been got from him, but he +seemed to imply that the vessel had struck upon Dead Man's Rock from +the south-west, breaking her back upon its sunken base, and then +slipping out and subsiding in the deep water. It must have happened +at high tide, for much coffee and basket-work was found upon +high-water line. This fixed the time of the disaster at about +4 a.m., and my mother's eyes met mine, as we both remembered that it +was about that hour when we heard the wild despairing cry. For the +rest, it was hopeless to seek information from the Greek sailor +without an interpreter; nor were there any clothes or identifying +marks on the child's body. The stranger had been clothed and fed at +the Vicarage, and would give his evidence that afternoon. Hitherto, +the name of the vessel was unknown. + +At this point my mother's eyes again sought mine, and I feared fresh +inquiries about the _Mary Jane_; but, luckily, Uncle Loveday had +recurred to the question of the Tower of Babel, on which he delivered +several profound reflections. Seeing me still disinclined to +explain, she merely sighed, and was silent. + +But when Uncle Loveday had broken his fast and, rising, announced +that he must drive down to be present at the inquest, to our +amazement, mother insisted upon going with him. Having no suspicion +of her deadly fear, he laughed a little at first, and quoted Solomon +on the infirmities of women to an extent that made me wonder what +Aunt Loveday would have said had he dared broach such a subject to +that strong-minded woman. Seeing, however, that my mother was set +upon going, he desisted at last, and put his cart at her service. +Somewhat to her astonishment, as I could see, I asked to be allowed +to go also, and, after some entreaty, prevailed. So we all set out +behind Uncle Loveday's over-fed pony for Polkimbra. + +There was a small crowd around the door of the "Lugger Inn" when we +drove up. It appeared that the coroner had just arrived, and the +inquest was to begin at once. Meanwhile, the folk were busy with +conjecture. They made way, however, for my uncle, who, being on such +occasions a person of no little importance, easily gained us entry +into the Red Room where the inquiry was about to be held. As we +stepped along the passage, the landlord's parrot, looking more than +ever like Aunt Elizabeth, almost frightened me out of my wits by +crying, "All hands lost! All hands lost! Lord ha' mercy on us!" Its +hoarse note still sounded in my ears, when the door opened, and we +stood in presence of the "crowner's quest." + +I suppose the Red Room of the "Lugger" was full; and, indeed, as the +smallest inquest involves at least twelve men and a coroner, to say +nothing of witnesses, it must have been very full. But for me, as +soon as my foot crossed the threshold, there was only one face, only +one pair of eyes, only one terrible presence, to be conscious of and +fear. I saw him at once, and he saw me; but, unless it were that his +cruel eye glinted and his lips grew for the moment white and fixed, +he betrayed no consciousness of my presence there. + +The coroner was speaking as we entered, but his voice sounded as +though far away and faint. Uncle Loveday gave evidence, and I have a +dim recollection of two rows of gleaming buttons, but nothing more. +Then Jonathan, the coast-guardsman, was called. He had seen, or +fancied he saw, a ship in distress near Gue Graze; had noticed no +light nor heard any signal of distress; had given information at +Lizard Town. The rocket apparatus had been got out, and searchers +had scoured the cliffs as far as Porth Pyg, but nothing was to be +seen. The search-party were returning, when they found a shipwrecked +sailor in company with a small boy, one Jasper Trenoweth, in +Ready-Money Cove. + +At the sound of my own name I started, and for the second time since +our entry felt the eyes of the stranger question me. At the same +time I felt my mother's clasp of my hand tighten, and knew that she +saw that look. + +The air grew closer and the walls seemed to draw nearer as Jonathan's +voice continued its drowsy tale. The afternoon sun poured in at the +window until it made the little wainscoted parlour like an oven, but +still for me it only lit up one pair of eyes. The voices sounded +more and more like those of a dream; the scratching of pens and +shuffling of feet were, to my ears, as distant murmurs of the sea, +until the coroner's voice called--"Georgio Rhodojani." + +Instantly I was wide awake, with every nerve on the stretch. Again I +felt his eyes question me, again my mother's hand tightened upon +mine, as the stranger stood up and in softest, most musical tones +gave his evidence. And the evidence of Georgio Rhodojani, Greek +sailor, as translated by Jacopo Rousapoulos, interpreter, of +Penzance, was this:-- + +"My name is Georgio Rhodojani. I am a Greek by birth, and have been +a sailor all my life. I was seaman on board the ship which was +wrecked last night on your horrible coast. The ship belonged to +Bristol, and was homeward bound, but I know neither her name nor the +name of her captain." + +At this strange opening, amazement fell upon all. For myself, the +wild incongruity of this foreign tongue from lips which I had heard +utter such fluent and flute-like English swallowed up all other +wonder. + +After a pause, seeing the marvelling looks of his audience, the +witness quietly explained-- + +"You wonder at this; but I am Greek, and cannot master your hard +names. I joined the ship at Colombo as the captain was short of +hands. I was wrecked in a Dutch vessel belonging to Dordrecht, off +Java, and worked my passage to Ceylon, seeking employment. It is +not, therefore, extraordinary that I am so ignorant, and my mouth +cannot pronounce your English language, but show me your list of +ships and I will point her out to you." + +There was a rustling of papers, and a list of East Indiamen was +handed up to him: he hastily ran his finger over the pages. Suddenly +his face lighted up. + +"Ah! this is she!--this is the ship that was wrecked last night!" + +The coroner took the paper and slowly read out--"The _James and +Elizabeth_, of Bristol. Captain--Antonius Merrydew." + +"Ah, yes, that is she. The babe here was the captain's child, born +on the voyage. There were eighteen men on board, an English boy, and +the captain's wife. The child was born off the African coast. +We sailed from Colombo on the 22nd of July last, with a cargo of +coffee and sugar. Two days ago we were off a big harbour, of which I +do not know the name; but early yesterday morning were abreast of +what you call, I think, the Lizard. The wind was S.W., and took us +into your terrible bay. All yesterday we were tacking to get out. +Towards evening it blew a gale. The captain had been ill ever since +we passed the Bay of Biscay. We hoisted no signal, and knew not what +to do, for the captain was sick, and the mate drunk. The mate began +to cry when we struck. I alone got on to the jib-boom and jumped. +What became of the others I know not, but I jumped on to the rock by +which you found me this morning. The vessel broke up in a very short +time. I heard the men crying bitterly, but the mate's voice was +louder than any. The captain of course was below, and so, when last +I saw them, were his wife and child, but she might have rushed upon +deck. I was almost sucked back twice, but managed to scramble up. +It was not until daylight that I knew I was on the mainland, and +climbed down to the sands." + +As this strange history proceeded, I know not who in that little +audience was most affected. The jury, fascinated by the sweet voice +of the speaker, as well as the mystery about the vessel and its +unwitnessed disappearance, leant forward in their seats with strained +and breathless attention. My mother could not take her eyes off the +stranger's face. As he hesitated over the name of the ship, her very +lips grew white in agonised suspense, but when the coroner read "the +_James and Elizabeth_," she sank back in her seat with a low +"Thank God!" that told me what she had dreaded, and how terribly. +I myself knew not what to think, nor if my ears had heard aright. +Part of the tale I knew to be a lie; but how much? And what of the +_Mary Jane?_ I looked round about. A hush had succeeded the closing +words of Rhodojani. Even the coroner was puzzled for a moment; but +improbable as the evidence might seem, there was none to gainsay it. +I alone, had they but known it, could give this demon the lie--I, an +unnoticed child. + +The coroner put a question or two and then summed up. Again the old +drowsy insensibility fell upon me. I heard the jury return the +usual verdict of "Accidental Death," and, as my mother led me from +the room, the voice of Joe Roscorla (who had been on the jury) +saying, "Durn all foreigners! I don't hold by none of 'em." As the +door slammed behind us, shutting out at last those piercing eyes, a +shrill screech from the landlord's parrot echoed through the house-- + +"All hands lost! Lord ha' mercy on us!" + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +TELLS HOW A FACE LOOKED IN AT THE WINDOW OF LANTRIG; AND IN WHAT +MANNER MY FATHER CAME HOME TO US. + +My mother and I walked homeward together by way of the cliffs. +We were both silent. My heart ached to tell the whole story, and +prove that my tale of the _Mary Jane_ was no wanton lie; but fear +restrained me. My mother was busy with her own thoughts. She had +seen, I knew, the glance of intelligence which the stranger gave me; +she guessed that his story was a lie and that I knew it. What she +could not guess was the horror that held my tongue fastened as with a +padlock. So, both busy with bitter thoughts, we walked in silence to +Lantrig. + +The evening meal was no better. My food choked me, and after a +struggle I was forced to let it lie almost untouched. But when the +fire was stirred, the candles lit, and I drew my footstool as usual +to her feet by the hearth, the old room looked so warm and cosy that +my pale fears began to vanish in its genial glow. I had possessed +myself of the "Pilgrim's Progress," and the volume, a dumpy octavo, +lay on my knee. As I read the story of Christian and Apollyon to its +end, a new courage fought in me with my morning fears. + +"In this combat no man can imagine, unless he has seen and heard as I +did, what yelling and hideous roaring Apollyon made all the time of +the fight: he _spake like a dragon_; and, on the other side, what +sighs and groans burst from Christian's heart. I never saw him all +the while give so much as one pleasant look, till he perceived that +he had wounded Apollyon with his two-edged sword; then indeed he did +smile and look upward! but it was the dreadfullest sight that ever I +saw." + +I glanced up at my mother, half resolved. She was leaning forward a +little and gazing into the fire, that lit up her pale face and +wonderful eyes with a sympathetic softness. I can remember now how +sweet she looked and how weary--that tender figure outlined in warm +glow against the stern, dark room. And all the time her heart was +slowly breaking with yearning for him that came not. I did not know +it then; but when does childhood know or understand the suffering of +later life? I looked down upon the page once more, turned back a +leaf or two, and read: + +"Then did Christian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind +whether to go back or stand his ground. But he considered again that +he had no armour for his back, and therefore thought that to turn his +back to him might give him greater advantage, with ease to pierce him +with his darts; therefore he resolved to venture and stand his +ground." + +"I come on them in bed sometimes, and sometimes from behind." +The words of my Apollyon came across my mind. Should I speak and +seek counsel?--What was that? + +It was a tear that fell upon my hand as it lay across my mother's +lap. Since the day when father left us I had never seen her weep. +Was it for my deceit? I looked up again and saw that her eyes were +brimming with sorrow. My fears and doubts were forgotten. I would +speak and tell her all my tale. + +"Mother." + +Somewhat ashamed at being discovered, she dried her eyes and tried to +smile--a poor pitiful smile, with the veriest ghost of joy in it. + +"Yes, Jasper." + +"Is Apollyon still alive?" + +"He stands for the powers of evil, Jasper, and they are always +alive." + +"But, I mean, does he walk about the world like a man? Is he +_really_ alive?" + +"Why, no, Jasper. What nonsense has got into your head now?" + +"Because, mother, I met him to-day. That is, he said he was +Apollyon, and that he would come and carry me off if--" + +Half apprehensive at my boldness, I cast an anxious look around as I +spoke. Nothing met my eyes but the familiar furniture and the +dancing shadows on the wall, until their gaze fell upon the window, +and rested there, whilst my heart grew suddenly stiff with terror, +and my tongue clave to my mouth. + +As my voice broke off suddenly, mother glanced at me in expectation. +Seeing my fixed stare and dropped jaw, she too looked at the window, +then started to her feet with a shriek. + +For there, looking in upon us with a wicked smile, was the white face +of the sailor Rhodojani. + +For a second or two, petrified with horror, we stood staring at it. +The evil smile flickered for a moment, baring the white teeth and +lighting the depths of those wolfish eyes; then, with a fiendish +laugh, vanished in the darkness. + +He had, then, told the truth when he promised to haunt me. +Beyond the shock of mortal terror, I was but little amazed. +It seemed but natural that he should come as he had threatened. +Only I was filled with awful expectation of his vengeance, and stood +aghast at the consequences of my rashness. By instinct I turned to +my mother for protection. + +But what ailed her? She had fallen back in her chair and was still +staring with parted lips at the dark pane that a minute ago had +framed the horrid countenance. When at last she spoke, her words +were wild and meaningless, with a dreadful mockery of laughter that +sent a swift pang of apprehension to my heart. + +"Mother, it is gone. What is the matter?" + +Again a few meaningless syllables and that awful laugh. + +And so throughout that second awful night did she mutter and laugh, +whilst I, helpless and terror-stricken, strove to soothe her and +recall her to speech and sense. The slow hours dragged by, and still +I knelt before her waiting for the light. The slow clock sounded the +hours, and still she gave no sign of understanding. The mice crept +out of their accustomed holes and jumped back startled at her laugh. +The fire died low and the candles died out; the wind moaned outside, +the tamarisk branches swished against the pane; the hush of night, +with its intervals of mysterious sound, held the house; but all the +time she never ceased to gaze upon the window, and every now and +then to mutter words that were no echo of her mind or voice. +Daylight, with its premonitory chill, crept upon us at last, but oh, +how slowly! Daylight looked in and found us as that cruel sight had +left us, helpless and alone. + +But with daylight came some courage. Had there been neighbours near +Lantrig I should have run to summon them before, but Polkimbra was +the nearest habitation, and Polkimbra was almost two miles off, +across a road possessed by horrors and perhaps tenanted by that +devilish face. And how could I leave my mother alone? But now that +day had come I would run to Lizard Town and see Uncle Loveday. +I slipped on my boots, unbolted the door, cast a last look at my +mother still sitting helpless and vacant of soul, and rushed from the +house. The sound of her laughter rang in my ears as the door closed +behind me. + +Weak, haggard and wild of aspect, I ran and stumbled along the +cliffs. Dead Man's Rock lay below wrapped in a curtain of mist. +Thick clouds were rolling up from seaward; the grey light of +returning day made sea, sky and land seem colourless and wan. +But for me there was no sight but Polkimbra ahead. As I gained the +little village I ran down the hill to the "Lugger" and knocked upon +the door. Heavens! how long it was before I was answered. At last +the landlady's head appeared at an upper window. With a few words to +Mrs. Busvargus, which caused that worthy soul to dress in haste with +many ejaculations, I raced up the hill again and across the downs for +Lizard Town. My strength was giving way; my head swam, my sides +ached terribly, my legs almost refused to obey my will, and a +thousand lights danced and sparkled before my eyes, but still I kept +on, now staggering, now stumbling, but still onward, nor stopped +until I stood before Uncle Loveday's door. + +There at last I fell; but luckily against the door, so that in a +moment or two I became conscious of Aunt Elizabeth standing over me +and regarding me as a culprit caught red-handed in some atrocious +crime. + +"Hoity-toity! What's the matter now? Why, it's Jasper! Well, of +all the freaks, to come knocking us up! What's the matter with the +boy? Jasper, what ails you?" + +Incoherently I told my story, at first to Aunt Elizabeth alone, but +presently, in answer to her call, Uncle Loveday came down to hear. +The pair stood silent and wondering. + +They were not elaborately dressed. Aunt Elizabeth, it is true, was +smothered from head to foot in a gigantic Inverness cape, that might +have been my uncle's were it not obviously too large for that little +man. Her nightcap, on the other hand, was ostentatiously her own. +No other woman would have had strength of mind to wear such a +head-dress. Uncle Loveday's costume was even more singular; for the +first time I saw him without a single brass button, and for the first +time I understood how much he owed to those decorations. His first +words were-- + +"Jasper, I hope you are telling me the truth. Your mother told me +yesterday of some cock-and-bull story concerning the _Anna Maria_ or +some such vessel. I hope this is not another such case. I have told +you often enough where little boys who tell falsehoods go to." + +My white face must have been voucher for my truth on this occasion; +for Aunt Elizabeth cut him short with the single word "Breakfast," +and haled me into the little parlour whilst the pair went to dress. + +As I waited, I heard the sound of the pony without, and presently +Aunt Elizabeth returned in her ordinary costume to worry the small +servant who laid breakfast. Whether Uncle Loveday ever had that meal +I do not know to this day, for whilst it was being prepared I saw him +get into the little carriage and drive off towards Lantrig. I was +told that I could not go until I had eaten; and so with a sore heart, +but no thought of disobedience, I turned to breakfast. + +The meal had scarcely begun when the door opened and Master Thomas +Loveday sauntered into the room. Master Thomas Loveday, a youth of +some eight summers, was, in default of a home of his own, quartered +permanently upon my uncle, whose brother's son he was. His early +days had been spent in India. After, however, both father and mother +had succumbed to the climate of Madras, he was sent home to England, +and had taken root in Lizard Town. Hitherto, his life had been one +long lazy slumber. Whenever we were sent, on his rare visits to +Lantrig, to "play together," as old age always rudely puts it, his +invariable rule had been to go to sleep on the first convenient spot. +Consequently his presence embarrassed me not a little. He was a +handsome boy, with blue eyes, long lashes, fair hair, and a gentle +habit of speech. When I came to know him better, I learnt the quick +wit and subtle power that lay beneath his laziness of manner; but at +present the soul of Thomas Loveday slept. + +He was certainly not wide awake when he entered the room. With a +sleepy nod at me, and no trace of surprise at my presence, he pursued +his meal. Occasionally, as Aunt Elizabeth put a fresh question, he +would regard her with a long stare, but otherwise gave no sign of +animation. This finally so exasperated my aunt that she addressed +him-- + +"Thomas, do not stare." + +Thomas looked mildly surprised for a moment, and then inquired, "Why +not?" + +"Does the boy think I'm a wild Indian?" The question was addressed +to me, but I could not say, so kept a discreet silence. Thomas +relieved me from my difficulty by answering, "No," thoughtfully. + +"Then why stare so? I'm sure I don't know what boys are made of, +nowadays." + +"Slugs and snails and puppy-dogs' tails," was the dreamy answer. + +"Thomas, how dare you? I should like to catch the person who taught +you such nonsense. I'd teach him!" + +"It was Uncle Loveday," remarked the innocent Thomas. + +There was an awful pause; which I broke at length by asking to be +allowed to go. Aunt Elizabeth saw her way to getting rid of the +offender. + +"Thomas, you might walk with Jasper over the downs to Lantrig. +It will be nice exercise for you." + +"It may be exercise, aunt, but--" + +"Do not answer me, but go. Where do you expect little boys will go +to, who are always idle?" + +"Sleep?" hazarded Thomas. + +"Thomas, you shall learn the whole of Dr. Watts's poem on the +sluggard before you go to bed this night." + +At this the boy slowly rose, took his cap, stood before her, and +solemnly repeated the whole of that melancholy tale, finishing the +last line at the door and gravely bowing himself out. I followed, +awestruck, and we set out in silence. + +At first, anxiety for my mother possessed all my thoughts, but +presently I ventured to congratulate Tom on his performance. + +"She has read it to me so often," replied he, "that I can't help +knowing it. I hate Dr. Watts, and I love to go to sleep. I dream +such jolly things. Sleep is ever so much nicer than being awake, +isn't it?" + +I wanted sleep, having had but little for two nights, and could +therefore agree with him. + +"You get such jolly adventures when you dream," said Tom, +reflectively. + +I had been rather surfeited with adventures lately, so held my peace. + +"Now, real life is so dull. If one could only meet with +adventures--" + +I caught the sound of wheels behind us, and turned round. We had +struck off the downs on to the high road. A light gig with one +occupant was approaching us. As it drew near the driver hailed us. + +"Hullo! lads, is this the road for Polkimbra?" + +The speaker was a short, grizzled, seafaring man, with a kind face +and good-humoured mouth. He drove execrably, and pulled his quiet +mare right back upon her haunches. + +I answered that it was. + +"Are you bound for there? Yes? Jump up then. I'll give you a +lift." + +I looked at Tom; he, of course, was ready for anything that would +save trouble, so we clambered up beside the stranger. + +"There was a wreck there yesterday, I've heard," said he, after we +had gone a few yards, "and an inquest, and, by the tale I heard, a +lot of lies told." + +I started. The man did not notice it, but continued-- + +"Maybe you've heard of it. Well, it's a rum world, and a fine lot of +lies gets told every day, but you don't often get so accomplished a +liar as that chap--what's his name? Blessed if I can tackle it; not +but what it's another lie, I'll wager." + +I was listening intently. He continued more to himself than to us-- + +"An amazing liar, though I wonder what his game was. It beats me; +beats me altogether. The '_James and Elizabeth_,' says he, as large +as life. I take it the fellow couldn't 'a been fooling who brought +the news to Falmouth. Didn't know me from Adam, and was fairly put +about when he saw how I took it, and, says he, ''twas the _James and +Elizabeth_ the chap said, as sure as I stand here.' Boy, do you +happen to know the name of the vessel that ran ashore here, night +afore last?" + +I had grown accustomed to being asked this dreadful question, and +therefore answered as bravely as I could. "The _James and +Elizabeth_, sir." + +"Captain's name?" + +"Captain Antonius Merrydew." + +"Ah, poor chap! He was lying sick below when she struck, wasn't he? +And he had a wife aboard, and a child born at sea, hadn't he? +Fell sick in the Bay o' Biscay, like any land-lubber, didn't he? +Why, 'tis like play-actin'; damme! 'tis better than that." + +With this the man burst into a shout of laughter and slapped his +thigh until his face grew purple with merriment. + +"What d'ye think of it, boy, for a rare farce? Was ever the likes of +it heard? Captain Antonius Merrydew sick in the Bay o' Biscay! +Ho, ho! Where's play-actin' beside it?" + +"Wasn't it true, sir?" + +"True? God bless the boy! Look me in the face: look me in the +face, and then ask me if it's true." + +"But why should it not be true, sir?" + +"Because I am Captain Antonius Merrydew!" + +For the rest of the journey I sat stunned. Thomas beside me was wide +awake and staring, seeing his way to an adventure at last. It was I +that dreamed--I heard without comprehension the rest of the captain's +tale:--how he had come, after a quick passage from Ceylon, to +Falmouth with the barque _James and Elizabeth_, just in time to hear +of this monstrous lie; how he was unmarried, and never had a day's +illness in his life; how, suspecting foul play, he had hired a horse +and gig with a determination to drive over to Polkimbra and learn the +truth; how a horse and gig were the most cursedly obstinate of +created things; with much besides in the way of oaths and +ejaculations. All this I must have heard, for memory brought them +back later; but I did not listen. My life and circumstances had got +the upper hand of me, and were dancing a devil's riot. + +At last, after much tacking and porting of helm, we navigated +Polkimbra Hill and cast anchor before the "Lugger." There we +alighted, thanked the captain, and left him piping all hands to the +horse's head. His cheery voice followed us down to the sands. + +We had determined to cut across Polkimbra Beach and climb up to +Lantrig by Ready-Money Cliffs, as in order to go along the path above +the cliffs we should have to ascend Polkimbra Hill again. The beach +was so full of horror to me that without a companion I could not have +crossed it; but Tom's presence lent me courage. Tom was nearer to +excitement than I had ever seen him; he grew voluble; praised the +captain, admired his talk, and declared adventure to be abroad in the +air--in fact, threw up his head as though he scented it. + +Yes, adventure was in the air. It was not exactly to my taste, +however, nor did the thought of my poor mother at home make me more +sympathetic with Tom's ecstasy; so whilst he chattered I strode +gloomily forward over the beach. + +The day was drawing towards noon. October was revelling in an +after-taste of summer, and smiled in broad glory over beach and sea. +A light breeze bore eastward a few fleecy clouds, and the waves +danced and murmured before its breath. Their salt scent was in +our nostrils, and the glitter of the sand in our eyes. Black and +sombre in the clear air, Dead Man's Rock rose in gloomy isolation +from the sea, while the sea-birds swept in glistening circles round +its summit. But what was that at its base? + +Seemingly, a little knot of men stood at the water's edge. As we +drew nearer I could distinguish their forms but not their occupation, +for they stood in a circle, intent on some object in their midst +concealed from our view. Presently, however, they fell into a rough +line as though making for the archway to Ready-Money Cove. Something +they carried among them, and continually stooped over; but what it +was I could not see. Their pace was very slow, but they turned into +the arch and were disappearing, when I caught sight of the uncouth +little figure of Joe Roscorla among the last, and ran forward, +hailing him by name. + +At the sound of my voice Joe started, turned round and made a slow +pause; then, with a few words to his neighbour, came quickly towards +me. As he drew near, I saw that his face was white and his manner +full of embarrassment; but he put on a smile, and spoke first-- + +"Why, Jasper, what be doin' along here?" + +"I'm going home. Has Uncle Loveday seen mother? And is she better?" + +"Aw iss, he've a seen her an' she be quieter: leastways, he be bound +to do her a power o' good. But what be goin' back for? 'Tain't no +use botherin' indoors wi' your mother in thicky wisht state. +Run about an' get some play." + +"What were you doing down by the Rock just now, Joe?" + +Joe hesitated for a while; stammered, and then said, "Nuthin." + +"But, Joe, you were doing something: what were you carrying over to +Ready-Money?" + +"Look-ee here, my lad, run an' play, an' doan't ax no questions. +'Tain't for little boys to ax questions. Now I comes to think of it, +Doctor said as you was to stay over to Lizard Town, 'cos there ain't +no need of a passel of boys in a sick house: so run along back." + +Joe's voice had a curious break in it, and his whole bearing was so +unaccountable that I did not wonder when Tom quietly said-- + +"Joe, you're telling lies." + +Now Joe was, in an ordinary way, the soul of truth: so I looked for +an explosion. To my surprise, however, he took no notice of the +insult, but turned again to me-- + +"Jasper, lad, run along back: do'ee now." + +His voice was so full of entreaty that a sudden suspicion took hold +of me. + +"Joe, is--has anything happened to mother?" + +"Noa, to be sure: she'll be gettin' well fast enough, if so be as you +let her be." + +"Then I'll go and see Uncle Loveday, and find out if I am really to +go back." + +I made a motion to go, but he caught me quickly by the arm. + +"Now, Jasper, doan't-'ee go: run back, I tell'ee--run back--I tell'ee +you _must_ go back." + +His words were so earnest and full of command that I turned round and +faced him. Something in his eyes filled me with sickening fear. + +"Joe, what were you carrying?" + +No answer. + +"Joe, what were you carrying?" + +Still no answer; but an appealing motion of the hand. + +"Joe, what was it?" + +"Go back!" he said, hoarsely. "Go back!" + +"I will not, until I have seen what you were carrying." + +"Go back, boy: for God's sake go back!" + +I wrenched myself from his grasp, and ran with all speed. Joe and +Tom followed me, but fear gave me fleetness. Behind I could hear +Joe's panting voice, crying, "Come back!" but the agony in his tone +set me running faster. I flew through the archway, and saw the small +procession half-way across the cove. At my shout they halted, +paused, and one or two advanced as if to stop me. But I dashed +through their hands into their midst, and saw--God in heaven! +What? The drowned face of my father! + +Tenderly as women they lifted me from the body. Gently and with +tear-stained faces, they stood around and tried to comfort me. +Reverently, while Joe Roscorla held me in his arms behind, they took +up the corpse of him they had known and loved so well, and carried it +up the cliffs to Lantrig. As they lifted the latch and bore the body +across the threshold, a yell of maniac laughter echoed through the +house to the very roof. + +And this was my father's "Welcome Home!" + +Nay, not all; for as Uncle Loveday started to his feet, the door +behind him flew open, and my mother, all in white, with very madness +in her eyes, rushed to the corpse, knelt, caught the dead hand, +kissed and fondled the dead face, cooing and softly laughing the +while with a tender rapture that would have moved hell itself to +pity. + +In this manner it was that these two fond lovers met. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +TELLS HOW UNCLE LOVEDAY MADE A DISCOVERY; AND WHAT THE TIN BOX +CONTAINED. + +An hour afterwards I was sitting at the bedside of my dying mother. +The shock of that terrible meeting had brought her understanding--and +death: for as her mind returned her life ebbed away. White and +placid she lay upon her last bed, and spoke no word; but in her eyes +could be read her death-warrant, and by me that which was yet more +full of anguish, a tender but unfading reproach. This world is full +of misunderstandings, but seldom is met one so desperate. How could +I tell her now? And how could she ever understand? It was all too +late. "Too late! too late!" the words haunted me there as the bright +sun struggled through the drawn blind and illumined her saintly face. +They and the look in her sweet eyes have haunted me many a day since +then, and would be with me yet, did I not believe she knows the truth +at last. There are too many ghosts in my memories for Heaven to +lightly add this one more. + +She was dying--slowly and peacefully dying, and this was the end of +her waiting. He had returned at last, this husband for whose coming +she had watched so long. He had returned at last, after all his +labour, and had been laid at her feet a dead man. She was free to go +and join her love. To me, child as I was, this was sorely cruel. +Death, as I know now, is very merciful even when he seems most +merciless, but as I sat and watched the dear life slowly drift away +from me, it was a hard matter to understand. + +The pale sunlight came, and flickered, and went; but she lay to all +seeming unchanged. Her pulse's beat was failing--failing; the broken +heart feebly struggling to its rest; but her sad eyes were still the +same, appealing, questioning, rebuking--all without hope of answer or +explanation. So were they when the sobbing fishermen lifted her from +the body, so would they be until closed for the last sleep. It was +very cruel. + +My father's body lay in the room below, with Uncle Loveday and Mrs. +Busvargus for watchers. Now and again my uncle would steal softly +upstairs, and as softly return with hopelessness upon his face. +The clock downstairs gave the only sound I heard, as it marked the +footsteps of the dark angel coming nearer and nearer. Twice my +mother's lips parted as if to speak; but though I bent down to catch +her words, I could hear no sound. + +So, as I sat and watched her waxen face, all the sweet memories of +her came back in a sad, reproachful train. Once more we sat together +by the widowed hearth, reading: once more we stood upon the rocky +edge of Pedn-glas and looked into the splendours of the summer sunset +"for father's ship:" once more we knelt together in Polkimbra Church, +and prayed for his safe return: once more I heard that sweet, low +voice--once more? Ah, never, never more! + +Uncle Loveday stole into the room on tip-toe, and looked at her; then +turned and asked-- + +"Has she spoken yet?" + +"No." + +He was about to leave when the lips parted again, and this time she +spoke-- + +"He is coming, coming. Hush! that is his step!" + +The dark eyes were ablaze with expectation: the pale cheek aglow with +hope. I bent down over the bed, for her voice was very low. + +"He is coming, I know it. Listen! Oh, husband, come quicker, +quicker!" + +Alas! poor saint, the step you listen for has gone before, and is +already at the gate of heaven. + +"He is here! Oh, husband, husband, you have come for me!" + +A moment she sat up with arms outstretched, and glory in her face; +then fell back, and the arms that caught her were the arms of God. + + +After the first pang of bereavement had spent itself, Uncle Loveday +got me to bed, and there at last I slept. The very bewilderment of +so much sorrow enforced sleep, and sleep was needed: so that, worn +out with watching and excitement, I had not so much as a dream to +trouble me. It was ten o'clock in the morning when I awoke, and saw +my uncle sitting beside the bed. Another sun was bright in the +heavens outside: the whole world looked so calm and happy that my +first impulse was to leap up and run, as was my custom, to mother's +room. Then my eyes fell on Uncle Loveday, and the whole dreadful +truth came surging into my awakened brain. I sank back with a low +moan upon the pillow. + +Uncle Loveday, who had been watching me, stepped to the bed and took +my hand. + +"Jasper, boy, are you better?" + +After a short struggle with my grief, I plucked up heart to answer +that I was. + +"That's a brave boy. I asked, because I have yet to tell you +something. I am a doctor, you know, Jasper, and so you may take my +word when I say there is no good in what is called 'breaking news.' +It is always best to have the pain over and done with; at least, +that's my experience. Now, my dear boy, though God knows you have +sorrow enough, there is still something to tell: and if you are the +boy I take you for, it is best to let you know at once." + +Dimly wondering what new blow fortune could deal me, I sat up in bed +and looked at my uncle helplessly. + +"Jasper, you think--do you not--that your father was drowned?" + +"Of course, uncle." + +"He was not drowned." + +"Not drowned!" + +"No, Jasper, he was murdered." + +The words came slowly and solemnly, and even with the first shock of +surprise the whole truth dawned upon me. This, then, explained the +effect my name had wrought upon those two strange men. This was the +reason why, as we sat together upon Dead Man's Rock, the eyes of John +Railton had refused to meet mine: this was the reason why his +murderer had gripped me so viciously upon Ready-Money Beach. +These few words of my uncle's began slowly to piece together the +scattered puzzle of the last two days, so that I half guessed the +answer as I asked-- + +"Murdered! How?" + +"He was stabbed to death." + +I knew it, for I remembered the empty sheath that hung at Rhodojani's +waist, and heard again Railton's words, "Captain, it was your knife." +As certainly as if I had fitted the weapon to its case, I knew that +man had prompted father's murder. Even as I knew it my terror of him +faded away, and a blind and helpless hate sprang up in its stead: +helpless now, but some day to be masterful and worthy of heed. +That the man who called himself Georgio Rhodojani was guilty of one +death, I knew from the witness of my own eyes: that he had two more +lives upon his black account--for the hand that struck my father had +also slain my mother--I knew as surely. + + "And the devil has got his due, my lads!" + +No, not yet: there was still one priceless soul for him to wait for. + +"He was stabbed," repeated Uncle Loveday, "stabbed to the heart, and +from behind. I found this blade as I examined your poor father's +body. It was broken off close to the hilt, and left in the wound, +which can hardly have bled at all. Death must have been immediate. +It's a strange business, Jasper, and a strange blade by the look of +it." + +I took the blade from his hand. It was about four inches in length, +sharp, and curiously worked: one side was quite plain, but the other +was covered with intricate tracery, and down the centre, bordered +with delicate fruit and flowers, I spelt out the legend "Ricordati." + +"What does that word mean?" I asked, as I handed back the steel. +My voice was so calm and steady that Uncle Loveday glanced at me for +a moment in amazement before he answered-- + +"It's not Latin, Jasper, but it's like Latin, and I should think must +mean 'Remember,' or something of the sort." + +"'Remember,'" I repeated. "I will, uncle. As surely as father was +murdered, I will remember--when the time comes." + +They were strange words from a boy. My uncle looked at me again, but +doubtless thinking my brain turned with grief, said nothing. + +"Have you told anybody?" I asked at length. + +"I have seen nobody. There will be an inquest, of course, but in +this case an inquest can do nothing. Murderer and murdered have both +gone to their account. By the way, I suppose nothing has been seen +of the man who gave evidence. It was an unlikely tale; and this +makes it the more suspicious. Bless my soul!" said my uncle, +suddenly, "to think it never struck me before! Your father was to +sail in the _Belle Fortune_, and this man gave the name of the ship +as the _James and Elizabeth_." + +"It was the _Belle Fortune_, and the man told a falsehood." + +"I suppose it must have been." + +"I know it was." + +"Know? How do you know?" + +"Because the _James and Elizabeth_ is lying at this moment in +Falmouth Harbour, and her captain is down at the 'Lugger.'" + +Thereupon I told how I had met with Captain Antonius Merrydew. +Nay, more, for my heart ached for confidence, I recounted the whole +story of my meeting with John Railton, and the struggle upon Dead +Man's Rock. Every word I told, down to the dead man's legacy--the +packet and letter which I hid in the cow-house. As the tale +proceeded my uncle's eyes grew wider and wider with astonishment. +But I held on calmly and resolutely to the end, nor after the first +shock of wonderment did he doubt my sanity or truthfulness, but grew +more and more gravely interested. + +When I had finished my narrative there was a long silence. Finally +Uncle Loveday spoke-- + +"It's a remarkable story--a very remarkable story," he said, slowly +and thoughtfully. "In all my life I have never heard so strange a +tale. But the man must be caught. He cannot have gone far, if, as +you say, he was here at Lantrig only the night before last. I expect +they are on the look-out for him down at Polkimbra since they have +heard the captain's statement; but all the same I will send off Joe +Roscorla, who is below, to make sure. I must have a pipe, Jasper, to +think this over. As a general rule I am not a smoker: your aunt does +not--ahem!--exactly like the smell. But it collects the thoughts, +and this wants thinking over. Meanwhile, you might dress if you feel +well enough. Run to the shed and get the packet; we will read it +over together when I have finished my pipe. It is a remarkable +story," he repeated, as he slowly opened the door, "a most marvellous +story. I must have a pipe. A most--remarkable--tale." + +With this he went downstairs and left me to dress. + +I did so, and ran downstairs to the cow-shed. No one had been there. +With eager fingers I tore away the bricks from the crumbling mortar, +and drew out my prize. The buckle glittered in the light that stole +through the gaping door. All was safe, and as I left it. + +Clutching my treasure, I ran back to the house and found Mrs. +Busvargus spreading the midday meal. Until that was over, I knew +that Uncle Loveday would not attack the mystery. He was sitting +outside in the front garden smoking solemnly, and the wreaths of his +pipe, curling in through the open door, filled the house with +fragrance. + +I crept upstairs to my mother's door, and reverently entered the +dim-lit room. They had laid the two dead lovers side by side upon +the bed. Very peacefully they slept the sleep that was their +meeting--peacefully as though no wickedness had marred their lives or +wrought their death. I could look upon them calmly now. My father +had left his heritage--a heritage far different from that which he +went forth to win; but I accepted it nevertheless. Had they known, +in heaven, the full extent of that inheritance, would they not, as I +kissed their dead lips in token of my acceptance, have given some +sign to stay me? Had I known, as I bent over them, to what the oath +in my heart would bring me, would I even then have renounced it? +I cannot say. The dead lips were silent, and only the dead know what +will be. + +Uncle Loveday was already at table when I descended. But small was +our pretence of eating. Mrs. Busvargus, it is true, had lost no +appetite through sorrow; but Mrs. Busvargus was accustomed to such +scenes, and in her calling treated Death with no more to-do than she +would a fresh customer at her husband's inn. Long attendance at +death-beds seemed to have given that good woman a perennial youth, +and certainly that day she seemed to have lost the years which I had +gained. Uncle Loveday made some faint display of heartiness; but it +was the most transparent feigning. He covered his defection by +pressing huge helpings upon me, so that my plate was bidding fair to +become a new Tower of Babel, when Mrs. Busvargus interposed and swept +the meal away; after which she disappeared into the back kitchen to +"wash up," and was no more seen; but we heard loud splashings at +intervals as if she had found a fountain, and were renewing her youth +in it. + +Left to ourselves, we sat silent for a while, during which Uncle +Loveday refilled and lit his pipe and plunged again into thought, +with his eyes fixed on the rafters. Whether because his cogitations +led to something, or the tobacco had soothed him sufficiently, he +finally turned to me and asked-- + +"Have you got that packet?" + +I produced it. He took his big red handkerchief from his pocket, +spread it on the table, and began slowly to undo the strap. +Then after arranging apart the buckle, the letter, and the tin box, +he inquired-- + +"Was it like this when the man gave it to you?" + +"No, the letter was separate. I slipped it under the strap to keep +it safe." + +"It seems to me," said my uncle, adjusting his spectacles and +unfolding the paper, "illegible, or almost so. It has evidently been +thoroughly soaked with salt water. Come here and see if your young +eyes can help me to decipher it." + +We bent together over the blurred handwriting. The letter was +evidently in a feminine hand; but the characters were rudely and +inartistically formed, while every here and there a heavy down-stroke +or flourish marred the beauty of the page. Wherever such thick lines +occurred the ink had run and formed an illegible smear. Such as it +was, with great difficulty, and after frequent trials, we spelt out +the letter as follows:-- + + "The Welc . . . Home, Barbican, Plymo." + "My Deerest Jack,--This to hope it will find You quite well, as + it leaves Me at present. Also to say that I hope this voyage + . . . _new Leaf_ with Simon as Companny, who is a _Good + Friend_, though, as you well know, I did not think . . . came + _courting me_. But it is for the best, and . . . liquor . . . + which I pray to Heaven may begin happier Days. Trade is very + poor, and I do not know . . . little Jenny, who is getting on + _Famously_ with her Schooling. She keaps the Books already, + which is a great saving . . . looks in often and sits in the + parlour. He says as you have Done Well to be . . . _Wave_, but + misdoubts Simon, which I tell him must be wrong, for it was him + that advised . . . the fuss and warned against liquor, which he + never took Himself. Jenny is so Fond of her Books, and says she + will _teech you to write_ when you come home, which will be a + great _Comfort_, you being away so long and never a word. And I + am doing wonders under her teaching, which I dare say she will + let you know of it all in the letter she is writing to go along + with this . . . Simon to write for you, who is a . . . scholar, + which is natural . . . in the office. So that I wonder he left + it, having no taste for the sea that ever I heard . . . be the + making of you both. I forgot to tell . . . very strange when he + left, but what with the hurry and bussle it _slipped my mind_ + . . . wonderful to me to think of, my talking to you so natural + . . . distance. And so no more at present from your loving + wife," + "LUCY RAILTON." + + "Jenny says . . . will not alter, being more like as if it came + from me. Munny is very scarce. I wish you could get . . ." + +This was all, and small enough, as I thought, was the light it threw +on the problem before us. Uncle Loveday read it over three or four +times; then folded up the letter and looked at me over his +spectacles. + +"You say this cut-throat fellow--this Rhodojani, as he called +himself--spoke English?" + +"As well as we do. He and the other spoke English all the time." + +"H'm! And he talked about a Jenny, did he?" + +"He was saying something about 'Jenny not finding a husband' when +John Railton struck him." + +"Then it's clear as daylight that he's called Simon, and not Georgio. +Also if I ever bet (though far be it from me) I would bet my buttons +that his name is no more Rhodojani than mine is Methuselah." + +He paused for a moment, absorbed in thought; then resumed-- + +"This Lucy Railton is John Railton's wife and keeps a public-house +called the 'Welcome Home!' on the Barbican, Plymouth. Simon, that is +to say Rhodojani, was in love with Lucy Railton, and his conduct, +says she, was strange before leaving; but he pretended to be John +Railton's friend, and, from what you say, must have had an +astonishing influence over the unhappy man. Simon, we learn, is a +scholar," pursued my uncle, after again consulting the letter, "and I +see the word 'office' here, which makes it likely that he was a clerk +of some kind, who took to the sea for some purpose of his own, and +induced Railton to go with him, perhaps for the same purpose, perhaps +for another. Anyhow, it seems it was high time for Railton to go +somewhere, for besides the references to liquor, which tally with +Simon's words upon Dead Man's Rock, we also meet with the ominous +words 'the fuss,' wherein, Jasper, I find the definite article not +without meaning." + +Uncle Loveday was beaming with conscious pride in his own powers of +penetration. He acknowledged my admiring attention with a modest +wave of the hand, and then proceeded to clear his throat +ostentatiously, as one about to play a trump card. + +"As I say, Jasper, this fellow must have had some purpose to drag him +off to sea from an office stool--some strong purpose, and, from what +we know of the man, some ungodly purpose. Now, the question is, What +was it? On the Rock, as you say, he charged John Railton with having +a certain Will in his possession. Your father started from England +with a Will in his possession. This is curious, to say the +least--very curious; but I do not see how we are to connect this with +the man Simon's sudden taste for the sea, for, you know, he could not +possibly have heard of Amos Trenoweth's Will." + +"You and aunt were the only people father told of it." + +"Quite so; and your father (excuse me, Jasper) not being a born fool, +naturally didn't cry his purpose about the streets of Plymouth when +he took his passage. Still, it's curious. Your father sailed from +Plymouth and this pair of rascals sailed from Plymouth--not that +there's anything in that; hundreds sail out of the Sound every week, +and we have nothing to show when Simon and John started--it may have +been before your father. But look here, Jasper, what do you make of +that?" + +I bent over the letter, and where my uncle's finger pointed, read, +"He says as you have Done Well to be . . . _Wave_." + +"Well, uncle?" + +"Well, my boy; what do you make of it?" + +"I can make nothing of it." + +"No? You see that solitary word '_Wave_'?" + +"Yes." + +"What was the ship called in which your father sailed?" + +"The _Golden Wave_." + +"That's it, the _Golden Wave_. Now, what do you make of it?" + +My uncle leaned back in his chair and looked at me over his +spectacles, with the air of one who has played his trump card and +watches for its effect. A certain consciousness of merit and +expectancy of approbation animated his person; his reasoning +staggered me, and he saw it, nor was wholly displeased. +After waiting some time for my reply, he added-- + +"Of course I may be wrong, but it's curious. I do not think I am +wrong, when I mark what it proves. It proves, first, that these two +ruffians--for ruffians they both were, as we must conclude, in spite +of John Railton's melancholy end--it proves, I say, that these two +sailed along with your father. They come home with him, are wrecked, +and your father's body is found--murdered. Evidence, slight +evidence, but still worthy of attention, points to them. Now, if it +could be proved that they knew, at starting or before, of your +father's purpose, it would help us; and, to my mind, this letter goes +far to prove that wickedness of some sort was the cause of their +going. What do you think?" + +Uncle Loveday cleared his throat and looked at me again with +professional pride in his diagnosis. There was a pause, broken only +by Mrs. Busvargus splashing in the back kitchen. + +"Good heavens!" said my uncle, "is that woman taking headers? +Come, Jasper, what do you think?" + +"I think," I replied, "we had better look at the tin box." + +"Bless my soul! There's something in the boy, after all. I had +clean forgotten it." + +The box was about six inches by four, and some four inches in depth. +The tin was tarnished by the sea, but the cover had been tightly +fastened down and secured with a hasp and pin. Uncle Loveday drew +out the pin, and with some difficulty raised the lid. Inside lay a +tightly-rolled bundle of papers, seemingly uninjured. These he drew +out, smoothed, and carefully opened. + +As his eyes met the writing, his hand dropped, and he sank back--a +very picture of amazement--in his chair. + +"My God!" + +"What's the matter?" + +"It's your father's handwriting!" + +I looked at this last witness cast up by the sea and read, "The +Journal of Ezekiel Trenoweth, of Lantrig." + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +CONTAINS THE FIRST PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL; SETTING FORTH HIS +MEETING WITH MR. ELIHU SANDERSON, OF BOMBAY; AND MY GRANDFATHER'S +MANUSCRIPT. + +It was indeed my father's Journal, thus miraculously preserved to us +from the sea. As we sat and gazed at this inanimate witness, I +doubt not the same awe of an all-seeing Providence possessed the +hearts of both of us. Little more than twenty-four hours ago had my +dead father crossed the threshold of his home, and now his voice had +come from the silence of another world to declare the mystery of his +death. It was some minutes before Uncle Loveday could so far control +his speech as to read aloud this precious manuscript. And thus, in +my father's simple language, embellished with no art, and tricked out +in no niceties of expression, the surprising story ran:-- + +"May 23rd, 1848.--Having, in obedience to the instructions of my +father's Will, waited upon Mr. Elihu Sanderson, of the East India +Company's Service, in their chief office at Bombay, and having from +him received a somewhat singular communication in my father's +handwriting, I have thought fit briefly to put together some record +of the same, as well as of the more important events of my voyage, +not only to refresh my own memory hereafter, if I am spared to end my +days in peace at Lantrig, but also being impelled thereto by certain +strange hints conveyed in this same communication. These hints, +though I myself can see no ground for them, would seem to point +towards some grave bodily or spiritual peril; and therefore it is my +plain duty, seeing that I leave a beloved wife and young son at home, +to make such provision that, in case of misadventure or disaster, +Divine Providence may at least have at my hands some means whereby to +inform them of my fate. For this reason I regret the want of +foresight which prevented my beginning some such record at the +outset; but as far as I can reasonably judge, my voyage has hitherto +been prosperous and without event. Nevertheless, I will shortly set +down what I can remember as worthy of remark before I landed at this +city of Bombay, and trust that nothing of importance has slipped my +notice. + +"On the 3rd of February last I left my home at Lantrig, travelling by +coach to Plymouth, where I slept at the 'One and All' in Old Town +Street, being attracted thither by the name, which is our Cornish +motto. The following day I took passage for Bombay in the _Golden +Wave_, East Indiaman, Captain Jack Carey, which, as I learnt, was due +to sail in two days. It had been my intention, had no suitable +vessel been found at Plymouth, to proceed to Bristol, where the +trade is much greater; but on the Barbican--a most evil-smelling +neighbourhood--it was my luck to fall in with a very entertaining +stranger, who, on hearing my case, immediately declared it to be a +most fortunate meeting, as he himself had been making inquiries to +the same purpose, and had found a ship which would start almost +immediately. He had been, it appeared, a lawyer's clerk, but on the +death of his old employer (whose name escapes my memory), finding his +successor a man of difficult temper, and having saved sufficient +money to be idle for a year or two, had conceived the wish to travel, +and chosen Bombay, partly from a desire to behold the wonders of the +Indies, and partly to see his brother, who held a post there in the +East India Company's service. Having at the time much leisure, he +kindly offered to show me the vessel, protesting that should I find +it to my taste he was anxious for the sake of the company to secure a +passage for himself. So very agreeable was his conversation that I +embraced the opportunity which fortune thus threw in my way. +The ship, on inspection, proved much to our liking, and Captain Carey +of so honest a countenance, that the bargain was struck without more +ado. I was for returning to the 'One and All,' but first thought it +right to acquaint myself with the name of this new friend. He was +called Simon Colliver, and lived, as he told me, in Stoke, whither he +had to go to make preparation for this somewhat hasty departure, but +first advised me to move my luggage from the 'One and All' (the +comfort of which fell indeed short of the promise of so fair a name) +to the 'Welcome Home,' a small but orderly house of entertainment in +the Barbican, where, he said, I should be within easy distance of +the _Golden Wave_. The walk to Old Town Street was not far in +itself, but a good step when traversed five or six times a day; and, +moreover, I was led to make the change on hearing that the landlord +of the 'Welcome Home' was also intending to sail as seaman in +this same ship. My new acquaintance led me to the house, an +ill-favoured-looking den, but clean inside, and after a short +consultation with John Railton, the landlord, arranged for my +entertainment until the _Golden Wave_ should weigh anchor. +This done, and a friendly glass taken to seal the engagement, he +departed, congratulating himself warmly on his good fortune in +finding a fellow-traveller so much, as he protested, to his taste. + +"I must own I was not over-pleased with John Railton, who seemed a +sulky sort of man, and too much given to liquor. But I saw little of +him after he brought my box from the 'One and All.' His wife waited +upon me--a singularly sweet woman, though sorely vexed, as I could +perceive, with her husband's infirmity. She loved him nevertheless, +as a woman will sometimes love a brute, and was sorry to lose him. +Indeed, when I noticed that evening that her eyes were red with +weeping, and said a word about her husband's departure, she stared at +me for a moment in amazement, and could not guess how I came to hear +of it, 'for,' said she, 'the resolution had been so suddenly taken +that even she could scarce account for it.' She admitted, however, +that it was for the best, and added that 'Jack was a good seaman, and +she always expected that he would leave her some day.' Her chief +anxiety was for her little daughter, aged seven, whom it was hard to +have exposed to the rough language and manners of a public-house. +I comforted her as best I could, and doubt not she has found her +husband's absence a less misfortune than she anticipated. + +"The _Golden Wave_ weighed anchor on the 6th of February, and reached +Bombay after a tedious voyage of 103 days, on the 21st of May, having +been detained by contrary winds in doubling the Cape. I saw little +of Simon Colliver before starting, though he came twice, as I heard, +to the 'Welcome Home' to inquire for me, and each time found me +absent. On board, however, being the only other passenger, I was +naturally thrown much into his society, and confess that I found him +a most diverting companion. Often of a clear moonlight night would +we pace the deck together, or watch in a darker sky the innumerable +stars, on which Colliver had an amazing amount of information. +Sometimes, too, he would sing--quaint songs which I had never heard +before, to airs which I suspect, without well knowing why, were of +his own composition. His voice was of large compass--a silvery tenor +of surpassing' purity and sweetness, inasmuch as I have seen the +sailors stand spellbound, and even with tears in their eyes, at some +sweet song of love and home. Often, again, the words would be weird +and mysterious, but the voice was always delicious whether he spoke +or sang. I asked him once why with such a gift he had not tried his +fortune on the stage. At which he laughed, and replied that he could +never be bound by rules of art, or forced to sing, whatever his +humour, to an audience for which he cared nothing. I do not know why +I dwell so long upon this extraordinary man. His path of life has +chanced to run side by side with my own for a short space, and the +two have now branched off, nor in all likelihood will ever meet +again. My life has been a quiet one, and has not lain much in the +way of extraordinary men, but I doubt if many such as Simon Colliver +exist. He is a perfect enigma to me. That such a man, with such +attainments (for besides his wonderful conversation and power of +singing, he has an amazing knowledge of foreign tongues), that such a +man, I say, should be a mere attorney's clerk is little short of +marvellous. But as regards his past he told me nothing, though an +apt and ready listener when I spoke of Lantrig and of Margery and +Jasper at home. But he showed no curiosity as to the purpose of my +voyage, and in fact seemed altogether careless as well of the fate as +of the opinions of his fellow-men. He has passed out of my life; but +when I shook hands with him at parting I left with regret the most +fascinating companion it has been ever my lot to meet. + +"Our voyage, as I have said, was without event, though full of +wonders to me who had seldom before sailed far out of sight of +Pedn-glas. But on these I need not here dwell. Only I cannot pass +without mention the exceeding marvels of this city of Bombay. As I +stood upon deck on the evening before last and watched the Bhor +Ghauts (as they are called) rise gradually on the dim horizon, whilst +the long ridge of the Malabar Hill with its clustered lights grew +swiftly dyed in delicate pink and gold, and as swiftly sank back into +night, I confess that my heart was strangely fluttered to think that +the wonders of this strange country lay at my feet, and I slept but +badly for the excitement. But when, yesterday morning, I disembarked +upon the Apollo Bund, I knew not at first whither to turn for very +dismay. It was like the play-acting we saw, my dear Margery, one +Christmas at Plymouth. Every sight in the strange crowd was +unfamiliar to my Cornish eyes, and I felt sorely tempted to laugh +when I thought what a figure some of them would cut in Polkimbra, and +not less when I reflected that after all I was just as much out of +place in Bombay, though of course less noticed because of the great +traffic. As I strolled through the Bazaar, Hindoos, Europeans, Jews, +Arabs, Malays, and Negro men passed me by. Mr. Elihu Sanderson has +kindly taught me to distinguish some of these nations, but at the +time I did not know one from another, fancying them indeed all +Indians, though at a loss to account for their diversity. Also the +gaudy houses of red, blue, and yellow, the number of beautiful trees +that grew in the very streets, and the swarms of birds that crowded +every roof-top and ventured down quite fearlessly among the +passers-by, all made me gasp with wonder. Nor was I less amazed to +watch the habits of this marvellous folk, many of them to me +shocking, and to see the cows that abound everywhere and do the work +of horses. But of all this I will tell if Heaven be pleased to grant +me a safe return to Lantrig. Let me now recount my business with Mr. +Elihu Sanderson. + +"I said farewell to the captain of the _Golden Wave_ and my friend +Colliver upon the quay, meaning to ask Mr. Sanderson to recommend a +good lodging for the short time I intended to stay in Bombay. +Captain Carey had already directed me to the East India Company's +office, and hither I tried to make my way at once. Easy as it was, +however, I missed it, being lost in admiration of the crowd. When at +last I arrived at the doors I was surprised to see Colliver coming +out, until I remembered that his brother was in the Company's employ. +It seems, however, that he had been transferred to Trichinopoly some +months before, and my friend's labour was in vain. I am bound to say +that he took his disappointment with great good-humour, and made very +merry over our meeting again so soon, protesting that for the future +we had better hunt in couples among this outlandish folk; and so I +lost him again. + +"After some difficulty and delay I found myself at length in the +presence of this Mr. Elihu Sanderson, on whom I had speculated so +often. I was ushered by a clerk into his private office, and as he +rose to meet me, judged him directly to be the son of the Elihu +Sanderson mentioned in my father's Will--as indeed is the case. +A spare, dry, shrivelled man, with a mouth full of determination and +acuteness, and a habit of measuring his words as though they were for +sale, he is in everything but height the essence of every Scotchman I +remember to have seen. + +"'Good day,' said he, 'Mr.--I fancy I did not catch your name.' + +"'Trenoweth,' said I. + +"'Indeed! Trenoweth!' he repeated, and I fancy I saw a glimmer of +surprise in his eyes. 'Do I guess your business?' + +"'Maybe you do,' I replied, 'for I take it to be somewhat unusual.' + +"'Ah, yes; just so; somewhat unusual!'--and he chuckled drily-- +'somewhat unusual! Very good indeed! I suppose--eh?--you have some +credentials--some proof that you really are called Trenoweth?'--Here +Mr. Sanderson looked at me sharply. + +"In reply I produced my father's Will and the little Bible from my +jersey's side. As I did so, I felt the Scotchman's eyes examining me +narrowly. I handed him the packet. The Will he read with great +attention, glanced at the Bible, pondered awhile, and then said-- + +"'I suppose you guess that this was a piece of private business +between Amos Trenoweth, deceased, and my father, also deceased. +I tell ye frankly, Mr. Trenoweth--by the way, what is your Christian +name, eh? So you are the Ezekiel mentioned in the Will? Are you a +bold man, eh? Well, you look it, at any rate. As I was saying, I +tell ye frankly it is not the sort of business I would have +undertaken myself. But my father had his crotchets--which is odd, as +I'm supposed to resemble him--he had his crotchets, and among them +was an affection for your father. It may have been based on profit, +for your father, Mr. Trenoweth, as far as I have heard, was not +exactly a lovable man, if ye'll excuse me. If it was, I've never +seen those profits, and I've examined my father's papers pretty +thoroughly. But this is a family matter, and had better not be +discussed in office hours. Can you dine with me this evening?' + +"I replied that I should be greatly obliged; but, in the first place, +as a stranger, would count it a favour to be told of some decent +lodging for such time as I should be detained in Bombay. + +"Mr. Sanderson pondered again, tapped the floor with his foot, pulled +his short crop of sandy whiskers, and said-- + +"'Our business may detain us, for aught I know, long into the night, +Mr. Trenoweth. Ye would be doing me a favour if ye stayed with me +for a day or two. I am a bachelor, and live as one. So much the +better, eh? If you will get your boxes sent up to Craigie Cottage, +Malabar Hill--any one will tell ye where Elihu Sanderson lives--I +will try to make you comfortable. You are wondering at the name +'Craigie Cottage'--another crotchet of my father's. He was a +Scotchman, I'd have ye know; and so am I, for that matter, though I +never saw Scotch soil, being that prodigious phenomenon, a British +child successfully reared in India. But I hope to set foot there +some day, please God! Save us! how I am talking, and in office +hours, too! Good-bye, Mr. Trenoweth, and'--once more his eyes +twinkled as I thanked him and made for the door--'I would to Heaven +ye were a Scotchman!' + +"Although verily broiled with the heat, I spent the rest of the day +in sauntering about the city and drinking in its marvels until the +time when I was due to present myself at Craigie Cottage. Following +the men who carried my box, I discovered it without difficulty, +though very unlike any cottage that came within my recollection. +Indeed, it is a large villa, most richly furnished, and crowded with +such numbers of black servants, that it must go hard with them to +find enough to do. That, however, is none of my business, and Mr. +Sanderson does not seem the man to spend his money wastefully; so I +suppose wages to be very low here. + +"Mr. Sanderson received me hospitably, and entertained me to a most +agreeable meal, though the dishes were somewhat hotly seasoned, and +the number of servants again gave me some uneasiness. But when, +after dinner, we sat and smoked out on the balcony and watched the +still gardens, the glimmering houses and, above all, the noble bay +sleeping beneath the gentle shadow of the night, I confess to a +feeling that, after all, man is at home wherever Nature smiles so +kindly. The hush of the hour was upon me, and made me disinclined to +speak lest its spell should be broken--disinclined to do anything but +watch the smoke-wreaths as they floated out upon the tranquil air." + +"Mr. Sanderson broke the silence. + +"'You have not been long in coming.' + +"'Did you not expect me so soon?' + +"'Why, you see, I had not read your father's Will.' + +"I explained to him as briefly as I could the reasons which drove me +to leave Lantrig. He listened in silence, and then said, after a +pause-- + +"'You have not, then, undertaken this lightly?' + +"'As Heaven is my witness, no, whether there be anything in this +business or not.' + +"'I think,' said he, slowly, 'there is something in it. My father +had his crotchets, it is true; but he was no fool. He never opened +his lips to me on the matter, but left me to hear the first of it in +his last Will and Testament. Oddly enough, our fathers seem both to +have found religion in their old age. Mine took his comfort in the +Presbyterian shape. But it is all the same. There was some reason +for your father to repent, if rumours were true; but why mine, a +respectable servant of the East India Company, should want +consolation, is not so clear. Maybe 'twas only another form of +egotism. Religion, even, is spelt with an I, ye'll observe. + +"'An odd couple,' he continued, musing, 'to be mixed up together! +But we'll let them rest in peace. I'd better let you have what was +entrusted to me, and then, mayhap, ye'll be better able to form an +opinion.' + +"With this he rose and stepped back into the lighted room, whilst I +followed. Drawing a bunch of keys from his pocket, he opened a heavy +chest of some dark wood, intricately carved, which stood in one +corner, drew out one by one a whole pile of tin boxes, bundles of +papers and heavy books, until, almost at the very bottom of the +chest, he seemed to find the box he wanted; then, carefully replacing +the rest, closed and fastened the chest, and, after some search among +his keys, opened the tin box and handed me two envelopes, one much +larger than the other, but both bulky. + +"And here, my dear Margery, with my hand upon the secret which had +cost us so much anxious thought and such a grievous parting, I could +not help breathing to myself a prayer that Heaven had seen fit to +grant me at last some means of comforting my wife and little one and +restoring our fallen house; nor do I doubt, dear wife, you were at +that moment praying on your knees for me. I did not speak aloud, but +Mr. Sanderson must have divined my thoughts, for I fancied I heard +him utter 'Amen' beneath his breath, and when I looked up he seemed +prodigiously red and ashamed of himself. + +"The small envelope was without address, and contained 50 pounds in +Bank of England notes. These were enclosed without letter or hint as +to their purpose, and sealed with a plain black seal. + +"The larger envelope was addressed in my father's handwriting--" + +'TO THE SON OF MY HOUSE WHO, HAVING COUNTED ALL THE PERILS, IS +RESOLUTE. + +'_Mem.--To be burned in one hundred years from this date, May 4th, in +the year of our Lord MDCCCV._' + +"It likewise was sealed with a plain black seal, and contained the +manuscript which I herewith pin to this leaf of my Journal." + +[Here Uncle Loveday, who had hitherto read without comment, save an +occasional interjection, turned the page and revealed, in faded ink +on a large sheet of parchment, the veritable writing of my +grandfather, Amos Trenoweth. We both unconsciously leaned further +forward over the relic, and my uncle, still without comment, +proceeded to read aloud as follows:--] + + "From Amos Trenoweth, of Lantrig, in the Parish of Polkimbra and + County of Cornwall; to such descendant of mine as may inherit my + wealth. + + "Be it known to you, my son, that though in this parchment + mention is made of great and surpassing Wealth, seemingly but to + be won for the asking, yet beyond doubt the dangers which beset + him who would lay his hand upon this accursed store are in + nature so deadly, that almost am I resolved to fling the Secret + from me, and so go to my Grave a Beggar. For that I not only + believe, but am well assured, that not with out much Spilling + of Blood and Loss of Human Life shall they be enjoyed, I myself + having looked in the Face of Death thrice before ever I might + set Hand upon them, escaping each time by a Miracle and by + forfeit of my Soul's Peace. Yet, considering that the Anger of + Heaven is quick and not revengeful unduly, I have determined not + to do so wholly, but in part, abandoning myself the Treasure + unrighteously won, if perchance the Curse may so be appeased, + but committing it to the enterprise of another, who may escape, + and so raise a falling House. + + "You then, my Son who may read this Message, I entreat to + consider well the Perils of your Course, though to you unknown. + But to me they are known well, who have lived a Sinful Life for + the sake of this gain, and now find it but as the fruit of + Gomorrah to my lips. For the rest, my Secret is with God, from + whom I humbly hope to obtain Pardon, but not yet. And even as + the Building of the Temple was withheld from David, as being a + Shedder of Blood, but not from Solomon his son, so may you lay + your Hand to much Treasure in Gold, Silver, and Precious Stones, + but chiefly the GREAT RUBY OF CEYLON, whose beauty excels all + the jewels of the Earth, I myself having looked upon it, and + knowing it to be, as an Ancient Writer saith, 'a Spectacle + Glorious and without Compare.' + + "Of this Ruby the Traveller Marco Polo speaks, saying, 'The King + of Seilan hath a Ruby the Greatest and most Beautiful that ever + was or can be in the World. In length it is a palm, and in + thickness the thickness of a man's arm. In Splendour it + exceedeth the things of Earth, and gloweth like unto Fire. + Money cannot purchase it.' Likewise Maundevile tells of it, and + how the Great Khan would have it, but was refused; and so + Odoric, the two giving various Sizes, and both placing it + falsely in the Island of Nacumera or Nicoveran. But this I + know, that in the Island of Ceylon it was found, being lost for + many Centuries, and though less in size than these Writers + would have it, yet far exceeding all imagination for Beauty and + colour. + + "Now this Ruby, together with much Treasure beside, you may gain + with the Grace of Heaven and by following my plain words. + You will go from this place unto the Island of Ceylon, and there + proceed to Samanala or Adam's Peak, the same being the most + notable mountain of the Island. From the Resting House at the + foot of the Peak you will then ascend, following the track of + the Pilgrims, until you have passed the First Set of Chains. + Between these and the Second there lies a stretch of Forest, in + which, still following the track, you will come to a Tree, the + trunk of which branches into seven parts and again unites. + This Tree is noticeable and cannot be missed. From its base you + must proceed at a right angle to the left-hand edge of the track + for thirty-two paces, and you will come to a Stone shaped like a + Man's Head, of great size, but easily moved. Beneath this Stone + lies the Secret of the Great Ruby; and yet not all, for the rest + is graven on the Key, of which mention shall already have been + made to you. + + "These precautions I have taken that none may surprise this + Secret but its right possessor; and also that none may without + due reflection undertake this task, inasmuch as it is + prophesied that 'Even as the Heart of the Ruby is Blood and its + Eyes a Flaming Fire, so shall it be for them that would possess + it: Fire shall be their portion and Blood their inheritance for + ever.' + + "This prophecy I had from an aged priest, whose bones lie + beneath the Stone, and upon whose Sacred clasp is the Secret + written. This and all else may God pardon. Amen. + + "A. T." + + "He visiteth the iniquity of the Fathers upon the Children unto + the third and fourth generation." + +[To this extraordinary document was appended a note in another +handwriting.] + + "There is little doubt that the Ruby now in the possession of + Mr. Amos Trenoweth is the veritable Great Ruby of which the + traveller Marco Polo speaks. But, however this may be, I know + from the testimony of my own eyes that the stone is of + inestimable worth, being of the rarest colour, and in size + greatly beyond any Ruby that ever I saw. The stone is spoken + of, in addition to such writers as Mr. Trenoweth quotes, by + Friar Jordanus (in the fourteenth century), who mentions it as + 'so large that it cannot be grasped in the closed hand'; and + Ibn Batuta reckons it as great as the palm of a man's hand. + Cosmos, as far back as 550, had heard tell of it from Sopater, + and its fame extended to the sixteenth century, wherein Corsali + wrote of 'two rubies so lustrous and shining that they seem a + flame of fire.' Also Hayton, in the thirteenth century, + mentions it, telling much the same story as Sir John Maundevile, + to the effect that it was the especial symbol of sovereignty, + and when held in the hand of the newly-chosen king, enforced the + recognition of his majesty. But, whereas Hayton simply calls + it the greatest and finest Ruby in existence, Maundevile puts it + at afoot in length and five fingers in girth. Also--for I have + made much inquiry concerning this stone--it was well known to + the Chinese from the days of Hwen T'sang downward. + + "Mr. Trenoweth has wisely forborne for safety from showing it to + any of the jewellers here; but on the one occasion when I saw + the gem I measured it, and found it to be, roughly, some three + and a half inches square and two inches in depth; of its weight + I cannot speak. But that it truly is the Great Ruby of Ceylon, + the account of the Buddhist priest from, whom Mr. Trenoweth + got the stone puts out of all doubt." + + "E. S." + +"As I finished my reading, I looked up and saw Mr. Sanderson watching +me across the table. 'Well?' said he. + +"I pushed the parchment across to him, and filled a pipe. He read +the whole through very slowly, and without the movement of a muscle; +then handed it back, but said never a word. + +"'Well,' I asked, after a pause; 'what do you think of it?' + +"'Why, in the first place, that my father was a marvellously honest +man, and yours, Mr. Trenoweth, a very indiscreet one. And secondly, +that ye're just as indiscreet as he, and it will be lucky for ye if +I'm as honest as my father.' + +"I laughed. + +"'Aye, ye may laugh; but mark my words, Mr. Trenoweth. Ye've a +trustful way with ye that takes my liking; but it would surprise me +very much, sir, did ye ever lay hands on that Ruby.'" + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +CONTAINS THE SECOND PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: SETTING FORTH HIS +ADVENTURES IN THE ISLAND OF CEYLON. + +"Sept. 29th, 1848.--It is a strange thing that on the very next day +after reading my father's message I should have been struck down and +reduced to my present condition. But so it is, and now, four months +after my first entry in this Journal, I am barely able to use the pen +to add to my account. As far as I remember--for my head wanders +sadly at times--it happened thus: On the 23rd of May last, after +spending the greater part of the day in writing my Journal, and also +my first letter to my dear wife, I walked down in the cool of the +evening to the city, intending to post the latter; which I did, and +was returning to Mr. Sanderson's house, when I stopped to watch the +sun setting in this glorious Bay of Bengal. I was leaning over a low +wall, looking out on the open sea with its palm-fringed shores, when +suddenly the sun shot out a jagged flame; the sky heaved and turned +to blood--and I knew no more. I had been murderously struck from +behind. That I was found, lying to all appearance dead, with a +hideous zig-zag wound upon the scalp; that my pockets had been to all +appearance rifled (whether by the assassin or the natives that found +me is uncertain); that I was finally claimed and carried home by Mr. +Sanderson, who, growing uneasy at my absence, had set out to look for +me; that for more than a month, and then again for almost two months, +my life hung in the balance; and that I owe my recovery to Mr. +Sanderson's unceasing kindness--all this I have learnt but lately. +I can write no more at present. + +"Oct. 3rd.--I am slightly better. My mental powers are slowly coming +back after the fever that followed the wound. I pass my days mostly +in speculating on the reason of this murderous attack, but am still +unable to account for it. It cannot have been for plunder, for I do +not look like a rich man. Mr. Sanderson has his theory, but I cannot +agree with him, for nobody but ourselves knew of my father's +manuscript. At any rate, it is fortunate that I left it in my chest, +together with this Journal, before I went down to Bombay. Margery +must have had my letter by this time; Mr. Sanderson very wisely +decided to wait the result of my illness before troubling her. As it +is she need know nothing about it until we meet. + +"Oct. 14th.--Mr. Sanderson is everything that is good; indeed, had I +been a brother he could not have shown me more solicitude. But he is +obstinate in connecting my attack with the Great Ruby of Ceylon; it +is certainly a curious coincidence that this dark chapter of my life +should immediately follow my father's warning, but that is all one +can say. I shall give up trying to convince him. + +"Oct. 31st.--I am now considerably better. My strength is slowly +returning, and with it, I am glad to say, my memory. At first it +seemed as though I could remember nothing of my past life, but now my +recollection is good on every point up to the moment of my attack. +Since then, for at least the space of three months, I can recall +nothing. I am able to creep about a little, and Mr. Sanderson has +taken me for one or two excursions. Curiously enough, I thought I +saw John Railton yesterday upon the Apollo Bund. I was probably +mistaken, but at the time it caused me no surprise that he should +still be here, since I forgot the interval of three months in my +memory. If it were really Railton, he has, I suppose, found +employment of some kind in Bombay; but it seems a cruel shame for him +to desert his poor wife at home. I, alas! am doing little better, +but God knows I am anxious to be gone; however, Mr. Sanderson will +not hear a word on the subject at present. He has promised to find a +ship for me as soon as he thinks I am able to continue my travels. + +"Nov. 4th.--I was not mistaken. It was John Railton that I saw on +the Apollo Bund. I met him hovering about the same spot to-day, and +spoke to him; but apparently he did not hear me. I intended to ask +him some news of my friend Colliver, but I daresay he knows as little +of his doings as I do. Mr. Sanderson says that in a week's time I +shall be recovered sufficiently to start. I hope so, indeed, for +this delay is chafing me sorely. + +"Nov. 21st.--Mr. Sanderson has found a ship for me at last. I am to +sail in five days for Colombo in the schooner _Campaspe_, whose +captain is a friend--a business friend, that is--of my host. I shall +be the only passenger, and Mr. Sanderson has given Captain Dodge full +instructions to take care of me. But I am feeling strong enough now, +and fit for anything. + +"Nov. 23rd.--I have been down to look at the vessel, and find that a +most comfortable little cabin has been set apart for me. But the +strangest thing is that I met Colliver also inspecting the ship. +He was most surprised at seeing me, and evidently imagined me home in +England by this time. I told him of my meeting with John Railton, +and he replied-- + +"'Oh, yes; I have taken him into my service. We are going together +to Ceylon, as I have travelled about India enough for the present. +I went to visit my brother at Trichinopoly, and have only just +returned to Bombay. Unfortunately the captain of the _Campaspe_ +declares he is unable to take me, so I shall have to wait.' + +"I explained the reasons of the captain's reluctance, and offered him +a share of my cabin if Captain Dodge would consent to be burdened +with Railton's company. + +"'Oh, for that matter,' replied he, 'Railton can follow; but he's a +handy fellow, and I daresay would make himself useful without +payment.' + +"We consulted Captain Dodge, who admitted himself ready to take +another passenger, and even to accommodate Railton, if that were my +wish. Only, he explained, Mr. Sanderson had especially told him that +I should wish to be alone, being an invalid. So the bargain was +struck. + +"Mr. Sanderson did not seem altogether pleased when I informed him +that I intended to take a companion. He asked many questions about +Colliver, and was especially anxious to know if I had confided +anything of my plans to him. So far was this from being the case +that Colliver, as I informed my host, had never betrayed the least +interest in my movements. At this Mr. Sanderson merely grunted, and +asked me when I intended to learn prudence, adding that one crack in +the head was enough for most men, but he supposed I wanted more. +I admit that, pleasant companion as Colliver is, I should prefer to +be entirely alone upon this adventure. But I could not deny the +invitation without appearing unnecessarily rude, and I owe him much +gratitude for having made the outward voyage so pleasant. Besides, +we shall part at Colombo. + +"Nov. 25th.--I make this entry (my last upon Indian soil) just before +retiring to rest. To-morrow I sail for Colombo in the _Campaspe_. +But I cannot leave Bombay without dwelling once more on Mr. +Sanderson's great kindness. To-night, as we sat together for the +last time upon the balcony of Craigie Cottage, I declare that my +heart was too full for words. My host apparently was revolving other +thoughts, for when he spoke it was to say-- + +"'Visited his brother in Trichinopoly, eh? Only just returned, too-- +h'm! What I want to know is, why the devil he returned at all? +There are plenty of vessels at Madras.' + +"'But Colliver is not the man who cares to follow the shortest +distance between two points,' I answered. 'Why should he not return +to Bombay?' + +"'I'll beg ye to observe,' said Mr. Sanderson, 'that the question is +not 'why shouldn't he?' but 'why should he?'' + +"'At any rate,' said I, 'I'll be on my guard.' + +"This suspicion on my behalf has become quite a mania with my host. +I thought it best to let him grumble his fill, and then endeavoured +to thank him for his great kindness. + +"'Don't say another word,' he interrupted. 'I owe ye some reparation +for being mixed up in this at all. It's a serious matter, mark ye, +for a respectable clerk like myself to be aiding and abetting in this +mad chase; and, to tell the truth, Trenoweth, I took a fancy to ye +when first I set eyes on your face, and--Don't say another word, I'll +ask ye.' + +"My friend's eyes were full of tears. I arose, shook him silently by +the hand, and went to my room. + +"Nov. 26th.--I am off. I write this in my cabin, alone--Colliver +having had another assigned to him by Mr. Sanderson's express wish. +He saw Colliver for the first time to-day on the quay, and drew me +aside at the last moment to warn me against 'that fellow with the +devilish eyes.' As I stood on deck and watched his stiff little +figure waving me farewell until it melted into the crowd, and Bombay +sank behind me as the city of a dream, I wondered with sadness on the +little chance we had of ever meeting on this earth again. Colliver's +voice at my elbow aroused me. + +"'Odd man, that friend of yours--made up of emotion, and afraid of +his life to show it. Has he done you a favour?' + +"'He has,' I replied, 'as great a favour as one man can do for +another.' + +"'Ah,' said he, 'I thought as much. That's why he is so full of +gratitude.' + +"Dec. 6th.--Never shall I forget the dawn out of which Ceylon, the +land of my promise, arose into view. I was early on deck to catch +the first sight of land. Very slowly, as I stood gazing into the +east, the pitch-black darkness turned to a pale grey, and discovered +a long, narrow streak, shaped like the shields one sees in Bible +prints, and rising to a point in the centre. Then, as it seemed to +me, in a moment, the sun was up and as if by magic the shield had +changed into a coast fringed with palms and swelling upwards in green +and gradual slopes to a chain of mighty hills. Around these some +light, fleecy clouds had gathered, but sea and coast were radiant +with summer. So clear was the air that I could distinguish the red +sand of the beaches and the white trunks of the palms that crowded to +the shore; and then before us arose Colombo, its white houses +gleaming out one by one. + +"The sun was high by the time our pilot came on board, and as we +entered the harbour the town lay deep in the stillness of the +afternoon. We had cast anchor, and I was reflecting on my next +course of action when I heard my name called from under the ship's +side. Looking down, I spied a tall, grave gentleman seated in a +boat. I replied as well as I could for the noise, and presently the +stranger clambered up on deck and announced himself as Mr. +Eversleigh, to whom Mr. Sanderson had recommended me. I had no +notion until this moment--and I state it in proof of Mr. Sanderson's +kindness--that any arrangement had been made for entertaining me at +Colombo. It is true that Mr. Sanderson had told me, on the night +when our acquaintance began, to send this gentleman's address to +Margery, that her letter might safely reach me; but beyond this I +knew nothing. Mr. Eversleigh shook me by the hand, and, to my +unspeakable joy, handed me my dear wife's letter. + +"I say to my unspeakable joy, for no words can tell, dear wife, with +what feelings I read your letter as the little boat carried me up to +the quay. How often during the idle days of my recovery have I lain +wondering how you and Jasper were passing this weary time, and cried +out on the weakness that kept me so long dallying. Patience, dear +heart, it is but a little time now. + +"I have forgotten to speak of Colliver. He has been as delightful +and indifferent as ever throughout the voyage. Certainly I can find +no reason for crediting Mr. Sanderson's suspicions. In the hurry of +landing I missed him, not even having opportunity to ask about his +plans. Doubtless I shall see him in a day or two. + +"Dec. 10th.--What an entrancing country is this Ceylon! The monsoon +is upon us, and hinders my journey: indeed, Mr. Eversleigh advises me +not to start for some weeks. He promises to accompany me to the Peak +if I can wait, but the suspense is hard to bear. Meantime I am +drinking in the marvels of Colombo. The quaint names over the shops, +the bright dresses of white and red, the priests with their robes of +flaming yellow--all these are diverting enough, but words cannot tell +of the beauty of the country here. The roads are all of some strange +red soil, and run for miles beneath the most beautiful trees +imaginable--bamboos, palms, and others unknown to me, but covered +with crimson and yellow blossom. Then the long stretches of rice +fields, and again more avenues of palms, with here and there a lovely +pool by the wayside--all this I cannot here describe. But most +wonderful of all is the monsoon which rages over the country, +wrapping the earth sometimes in sheets of lightning which turn sea, +sky and earth to one vivid world of flame. The wind is dry and +parching, so that all windows are kept carefully closed at night; +but, indeed, the mosquitoes are sufficient excuse for that. I have +seen nothing of Colliver and Railton. + +"Dec. 31st.--New Year's Eve, and, as I hope, the dawn of brighter +days for us, dear wife. Mr. Eversleigh has to-night, been describing +Adam's Peak to me. Truly this is a most marvellous mountain, and its +effect upon me I find hard to put into words. To-day I watched it +standing solitary and royal from the low hills that surround it. +At its feet waved a very sea of green forest, around its summit were +gathered black clouds charged with lightning. Mr. Eversleigh tells +me of the worship here paid to it, and the thousands of pilgrims that +wear its crags with their patient feet. Can I hope to succeed when +so many with prayers so much more holy have failed? Even as I write, +its unmoved face is mocking the fire of heaven. I dream of the +mountain; night and day it has come to fill my life with dark terror. +I am not by nature timid or despondent, but it is hard to have to +wait here day after day and watch this goal of my hopes--so near, yet +seemingly so forbidding of access. + +"On looking back I find I have said nothing about the house where I +am now staying. It lies in the Kolpetty suburb, in the midst of most +lovely gardens, and is called Blue Bungalow, from the colour in which +it is painted. I have made many excursions with Mr. Eversleigh on +the lagoon; but for me the only object in this land of beauty is the +great Peak. I cannot endure this idleness much longer. Colliver +seems to have vanished: at least, I have not seen him. + +"Jan. 25th, 1849.--I have been in no mood lately to make any fresh +entry in my Journal. But to-morrow I start for Adam's Peak. At the +last moment my host finds himself unable to go with me, much as he +protests he desires it; but two of his servants will act as my +guides. It is about sixty miles from Colombo to the foot of the +Peak, so that in four days from this time I hope to lay my hand upon +the secret. The two natives (their real names I do not know, but Mr. +Eversleigh has christened them Peter and Paul, which I shall +doubtless find more easy of mastery than their true outlandish +titles) are, as I am assured, trusty, and have visited the mountain +before. We take little baggage beyond the necessary food and one of +my host's guns. I cannot tell how impatient I am feeling. + +"Feb. 1st.--My journey to the Peak is over. Whether from fatigue or +excitement I am feeling strangely light-headed to-day; but let me +attempt to describe as briefly as I can my adventure. We set out +from Colombo in the early morning of Jan. 26th. For about two-thirds +of our journey the road lies along the coast, stretching through +swampy rice-fields and interminable cocoanut avenues until Ratnapoora +is reached. So far the scenery does not greatly differ from that of +Colombo. But it was after we left Ratnapoora that I first realised +the true wonders of this land. Our road rose almost continuously by +narrow tracks, which in some places, owing to the late heavy rains, +were almost impassable; but Peter and Paul worked hard, and so +reduced the delay. We had not left Ratnapoora far behind when we +plunged into a tangled forest, so dense as almost to blot out the +light of day. On either hand deep ravines plunged precipitately +down, or giant trees enclosed us in black shadow. Where the sun's +rays penetrated, myriads of brilliant insects flashed like jewels; +yellow butterflies, beetles with wings of ruby-red or gold, and +dragonflies that picked out the undergrowth with fire. In the shadow +overhead flew and chattered crowds of green paroquets and glossy +crows, while here and there we could see a Bird of Paradise drooping +its smart tail-feathers amid the foliage. A little further, and deep +in the forest the ear caught the busy tap-tap of the woodpecker, the +snap of the toucan's beak, or far away the deep trumpeting of the +elephant. Once we startled a leopard that gazed a moment at us with +flaming eyes, and then was gone with a wild bound into the thicket. +From tree to tree trailed hosts of gorgeous creepers, blossoming in +orange, white and crimson, or wreathing round some hapless monarch of +the forest and strangling it with their rank growth. Still we +climbed. + +"The bridle-track now skirted a torrent, now wound dizzily round +the edge of a stupendous cliff, and again plunged into obscurity. +Here and there the ruins of some ancient and abandoned shrine +confronted us, its graceful columns entwined and matted with +vegetation; or, again, where the forest broke off and allowed our +eyes to sweep over the far prospect, the guides would point to the +place where stood, hardly to be descried, the relics of some dead +city, desolate and shrined in desolation. Even I, who knew nothing +of the past glories of Ceylon, could not help being possessed with +melancholy thoughts as I passed now a mass of deserted masonry, now a +broken column, the sole witnesses of generations gone for ever. +Some were very richly carved, but Nature's tracery was rapidly +blotting out the handiwork of man, the twining convolvulus usurping +the glories of the patient chisel. Still up we climbed, where hosts +of chattering monkeys swung from branch to branch, or poised +screaming overhead, or a frightened serpent rose with hissing mouth, +and then glided in a flash back through the undergrowth. One, that +seemed to me of a pure silver-white, started almost from under my +feet, and darted away before I could recover myself. We hardly +spoke; the vastness of Nature hushed our tongues. It seemed +presumption to raise my gun against any of the inhabitants of this +spot where man seemed so mean, so strangely out of place. Once I +paused to cut back with my knife the creepers that hid in +inextricable tangle a solitary and exquisitely carved archway. +But the archway led nowhere, its god and temple alike had perished, +and already the plants have begun their tireless work again. + +"Between the stretches of wilderness our road often led us across +rushing streams, difficult to ford at this season, or up rocky +ravines, that shut in with their towering walls all but a patch of +blue overhead. Emerging from these we would find ourselves on naked +ledges where the sun's rays beat until the air seemed that of an +oven. At such spots the plain below spread itself out as a crumpled +chart, whilst always above us, domed in the blue of a sapphire-stone, +towered the goal of our hopes, serene and relentless. But such +places were not many. More often a threatening cliff faced us, or an +endless slope closed in the view, only to give way to another and yet +another as we climbed their weary length. + +"Yet our speed was not trifling. We had passed a train of +white-clothed pilgrims in the morning soon after leaving Ratnapoora. +Since then we had seen no man except one poor old priest at the +ruined resting-house where we ate our mid-day meal. The shadow of +the forest allowed us to travel through the heat of the day, and the +thirst of discovery would have hurried me on even had the guides +protested. But they were both sturdy, well-built men, and suffered +from the heat far less than I did. So we hardly paused until, in the +first swift gloom of sunset, we emerged on the grassy lawn of +Diabetne, beneath the very face of the cone. + +"We had to rest for the night in the ruined _Ambulam_, as it is +called; and here, thoroughly tired but sleepless, I lay for some +hours and watched the innumerable stars creep out and crown that +sublime head which rose at first into a fathomless blue that was +almost black, and then as the moon swept up, flashed into unutterable +radiance. Nothing, I am told, can compare with the moonlight of +Ceylon, and I can well believe it. That night I read clearly once +again by the light of its rays my father's manuscript, that no point +in it should escape my memory; then sank down upon my rugs and slept +an uneasy sleep. + +"In an hour or two, as it seemed, I was awakened by Peter, who shook +me and proclaimed it time to be stirring if we meant to see the +sunrise from the summit. The moon was still resplendent as we +started across the three miles or 'league of heaven' that still lay +between us and the actual cone. This league traversed, we plunged +down a gully and crossed a stream whose waters danced in the silver +moonlight until the eyes were dazzled, then swept in a pearly shower +down numberless ledges of rock. After this the climb began in good +earnest. After a stretch of black forest, we issued on a narrow +track that grew steeper at every step. The moon presently ceased to +help us here, so that my guides lit torches, which flared and cast +long shadows on the rocky wall. By degrees the track became a mere +watercourse, up which we could only scramble one by one. So narrow +was it that two men could scarcely pass, yet so richly clothed in +vegetation that our torches scorched the overhanging ferns. +Peter led the way, and I followed close at his heels, for fear of +loose stones; but every now and then a crash and a startled cry from +Paul behind us told us that we had sent a boulder flying down into +the depths. Beyond this and the noise of our footsteps there was no +sound. We went but slowly, for the labour of the day before had +nearly exhausted us, but at length we scrambled out into the +moonlight again upon a rocky ledge half-way up the mountainside. + +"Here a strong breeze was blowing, that made our heated bodies +shiver until we were fain to go on. Casting one look into the gulf +below, deepened without limit in the moonlight, we lit fresh torches +and again took to the path. Before we had scrambled, now we +climbed. We had left vegetation behind us, and were face to face +with the naked rock that forms the actual Peak. At the foot of this +Peter called a halt, and pointed out the first set of chains. +Without these, in my weak state I could never have attempted the +ascent. Even as it was, my eye was dazed and my head swam and reeled +as I hung like a fly upon the dizzy side. But clutching with +desperation the chains riveted in the living rock, I hauled myself up +after Peter, and sank down thoroughly worn out upon the brink. + +"It now wanted but little before daybreak would be upon us. As I +gathered myself up for a last effort, I remembered that amid the +growth into which we were now to plunge, stood the tree of seven +trunks which was to be my mark. But my chance was small of noting it +by the light of these flaring torches that distorted every object, +and wreathed each tree into a thousand fantastic shapes. Plainly I +must stake my hopes on the descent next day; at any rate, I would +scale the summit before I began my search. + +"We had plunged into the thicket of rhododendrons, whose crimson +flowers showed oddly against the torches' gleam, and I was busy with +these thoughts, when suddenly my ankle gave way, and I fell heavily +forward. My two guides were beside me in an instant, and had me on +my feet again. + +"'All's good,' said Peter, 'but lucky it not happen otherwhere. +Only take care for last chain. But what bad with him?' + +"He might well ask; for there, full in front of my eyes that strained +and doubted, glimmered a huge trunk cleft into seven--yes, seven-- +branches that met again and disappeared in a mass of black foliage. +It was my father's tree. + +"So far then the parchment had not lied. Here was the tree, +'noticeable and not to be missed,' and barely thirty-two paces from +the spot where I was standing lay the key to the treasure which I had +travelled this weary distance to seek. But the time for search had +not yet come. By the clear light of day and alone I must explore the +secret. It would keep for a few hours longer. + +"Dismissing my pre-occupied manner which had caused no small +astonishment to Peter and Paul, I fixed the position of the tree as +firmly as I could in my mind, and gave the word to advance. + +"We then continued in the same order as before, whilst, to make +matters sure, I counted our steps. I had reached six hundred and +twenty-though when I considered the darkness and the rough path I +reflected that this was but little help--when we arrived at the +second set of chains. My foot was already beginning to give me pain, +but under any circumstances this would have been by far the worst of +the ascent. All around us stretched darkness void and horrible, +leading, for all that we could see, down through veils of curling +mist into illimitable depths. In front the rock was almost +perpendicular. The fascination of gazing down was wellnigh +resistless, but Peter ahead continually cried 'Hurry!' and the voice +of Paul behind repeated 'Hurry!' so that panting, gasping, and fit to +faint, with fingers clinging to the chain until the skin was +blistered, with every nerve throbbing and every muscle strained to +its utmost tension, I clambered, clambered, until with one supreme +effort I swung myself up to the brink, staggered rather than ran up +the last few feet of rock, and as my guides bent and with +outstretched palms raised the cry '_Saadoo! Saadoo!_' I fell +exhausted before the very steps of Buddha's shrine. + +"When I recovered, I saw just above me the open shrine perched on a +tiny terrace and surrounded by low walls of stone; a yard or two from +me the tiny hut in which its guardians live; and all around the +expanse of sky. Dawn was stealing on; already its pale light was +creeping up the east, and a bar or two of vivid fire proclaimed the +coming of the sun. The priests were astir to receive the early +pilgrims, and as Paul led me to the edge of the parapet I could see +far away below the torches of the new-comers dotted in thin lines of +fire down the mountain-side. Some pilgrims had arrived before us, +and stood shivering in their thin white garments about the summit. + +"Presently the distant sound of measured chanting came floating up on +the tranquil air, sank and died away, and rose again more loudly. +Paler and paler grew the heavens, nearer and nearer swept the +chanting; and now the first pilgrim swung himself up into our view, +quenched his torch and bowed in homage. Others following did the +same, all adoring, until the terrace was crowded with worshippers +gazing eager and breathless into the far east, where brighter and +brighter the crimson bars of morning were widening. + +"Then with a leap flashed up the sun, the dazzling centre of a flood +of golden light. Godlike and resplendent he rode up on wreaths of +twirling-mist, and with one stroke sent the shadows quivering back to +the very corners of heaven. As the blazing orb topped the horizon, +every head bent in worship, every hand arose in welcome, every voice +broke out in trembling adoration, '_Saadoo! Saadoo!_' Even I, the +only European there, could not forbear from bowing my head and +lifting up my hands, so carried away was I with the aching fervour of +this crowd. There they stood and bent until the whole fiery ball was +clear, then turning, paced to the sound of chanting up the rough +steps and laid their offerings on the shrine. Thrice at each new +offering rang out a clattering gong, and the worshipper stepped +reverently back to make way for another; while all the time the +newly-risen sun blazed aslant on their robes of dazzling whiteness. + +"As I stood watching this strange scene, Peter plucked me by the +sleeve and pointed westward. I looked, and all the wonders I had yet +viewed became as nothing. For there, disregarded by the crowd, but +plain and manifest, rose another Peak, graven in shadow upon the +western sky. Bold and confronting, it soared into heaven and, whilst +I gazed in silent awe, came striding nearer through the void air, +until it seemed to sweep down upon me--and was gone! For many a day +had the shadow of this mighty cone lain upon my soul; here, on the +very summit, that shadow took visible form and shape, then paled into +the clear blue. Has its invisible horror left me now at last? +I doubt it. + +"But by this time the sun was high, and the last pilgrim with a +lingering cry of '_Saadoo!_' was leaving the summit. So, although +my ankle was now beginning to give me exquisite pain, I gave the +order to return. Before leaving, however, I looked for a moment at +the sacred footprint, to my mind the least of the wonders of the +Peak, and resembling no foot that ever I saw. We had gone but a few +steps when I plainly guessed from the state of my ankle that our +descent would be full of danger, but the guides assured me of their +carefulness; so once more we attacked the chains. + +"How we got down I shall never fully know; but at last and after +infinite pain we stood at the foot of the cliff and entered the +forest of rhododendrons. And here, to the wild astonishment of my +guides who plainly thought me mad, I bade them leave me and proceed +ahead, remaining within call. They were full of protestations and +dismay, but I was firm. Trusty they might be, but it was well in +this matter to distrust everything and everybody. Finally, +therefore, they obeyed, and I sat watching until their white-clad +forms disappeared in the thicket. + +"As soon as I judged them to have gone a sufficient distance, I arose +and followed, cautiously counting my footsteps. But this was +needless; my father had described the tree as 'noticeable and not to +be missed,' nor was he wrong. Barely had I counted five hundred +paces when it rose into view, uncouth and monstrous. All around it +spread the crimson blossoms of huge rhododendrons; but this strange +tree was at once unlike any of its fellows and of a kind altogether +unknown to me. Its roots were partly bare, and writhed in fantastic +coils across the track. Above these rose and spread its seven trunks +matted with creepers, and then united about four feet below the point +where the branches began. Its foliage was of a dark, glossy green, +particularly dense, and its height, as I should judge, some sixty +feet. + +"Taking out my compass, I started from the left-hand side of the +narrow track, and at a right angle to it. The undergrowth gave me +much trouble, and once I had to make a circuit round a huge +rhododendron; but I fought my way through, and after going, as I +reckoned, thirty-two paces, pulled up full in front of--another +rhododendron. + +"There must be some mistake. My father had spoken of a 'stone shaped +like a man's head,' but said nothing of a rhododendron tree, and +indeed this particular tree was in nowise different from its +companions. I looked around; took a few steps to the right, then to +the left; went round the tree; walked back a few paces; returned to +the tree to see if it concealed anything; then sought the track to +begin my measurement afresh. + +"I was just starting again in a very discomposed mood, when a thought +struck me. I had been behaving like a fool. The parchment said +'at a right angle to the left-hand edge of the track.' I had started +from my left hand, but I was descending the mountain, whereas the +directions of course supposed the explorer to be ascending. +Almost ready to laugh at my stupidity, I tried again. + +"Facing round, I got the needle at an angle of ninety degrees, and +once more began counting. My heart was beginning to beat quickly by +this time, and I felt myself trembling with excitement. The course +was now more easily followed. True, the growth was as thick as ever, +but no rhododendrons blocked my passage. Beating down the creepers +that swung across my face, twined around my legs, and caught at my +cap, I measured thirty-two paces as nearly as I could, and then +stopped. + +"Before me was a patch of velvet grass, some twelve feet square and +bare of the undergrowth that crowded elsewhere; but not a trace of a +stone. I looked right and left, crossed the tiny lawn, peered all +about, but still saw nothing at all resembling what I sought. + +"As it began to dawn on me that all my hopes had been duped, my +journey vain, and my father's words an empty cheat, a sickening +despair got hold of me. My knees shook together, and big drops of +sweat gathered on my forehead. I roused myself and searched again; +again I was baffled. Distractedly I beat the bushes round and round +the tiny lawn, then flung myself down on the turf and gave way to my +despair. To this, then, it had all come; this was the end for which +I had abandoned my wife and child; this the treasure that had dangled +so long before my eyes. Fool that I had been! I cursed my madness +and the hour when I was born; never before had I heartily despised +myself, never until now did I know how the lust for this treasure had +eaten into my soul. The secret, if secret indeed there were, and all +were not a lie, was in the keeping of the silent Peak. + +"I almost wept with wrath. I tore the turf in my frenzy, and felt as +one who would fain curse God and die. But after a while my passion +spent itself. I sat up and reflected that after all my first +direction might have been the right one; at any rate, I would try it +again and explore it thoroughly. The instructions were precise, and +had been confirmed in the matter of the tree. Evidently the person +that wrote them had been upon the Peak, and what, if they were lies, +was to be gained by the cheat? + +"I pulled out the parchment again and read it through; then started +to my feet with fresh energy. I was just leaving the little lawn and +returning down my path, when it struck me that the bush on my left +hand was of a curious shape. It seemed a mere tangled knot of +creepers covered with large white blossom, and rose to about my own +height. Carelessly I thrust my stick into the mass, when its point +jarred upon--stone! + +"Yes, stone! In a moment my knife was out and I was down on hands +and knees cutting and tearing at the tendrils. Some of them were +full three inches thick, but I slashed and tugged, with breath that +came and went immoderately fast, with bleeding hands and thumping +heart, until little by little the stone was bared and its outlines +revealed themselves. + +"But as they grew distinct and I saw what I had uncovered, I fell +back in terror. The stone was about five feet ten inches in height, +and was roughly shaped to represent a human head and neck. But the +face it was that froze my heated blood in horror. Never until I die +shall I forget that hellish expression. It was the smoothly-shaven +face of a man of about fifty years of age, roughly carved after the +fashion of many of the ruins on this mountain. But whoever fashioned +it, the artist must have been a fiend. If ever malignant hate was +expressed in form, it stood before me. Even the blank pupils made +the malevolence seem but the more undying. Every feature, every line +was horrible, every touch of the chisel had added a fresh grace of +devilish spite. It was simply Evil petrified. + +"As this awful face, bared of the innocent creeper that for years had +shrouded its ugliness from the light of day, confronted me, a feeling +of such repulsion overcame me that for several minutes I could not +touch it. The neck was loosely set in a sort of socket fixed in the +earth; this was all the monster's pedestal. I saw that it barely +needed a man's strength to send it toppling over. Yet for a moment I +could summon up none. At length I put my hands to it and with an +effort sent it crashing over amid the brushwood. + +"The trough in which this colossal head had rested was about four +feet in depth, and narrowed towards the bottom. I put down my hand +and drew out--a human thigh-bone. The touch of this would have +turned me sick again, had not the statue's face already surfeited me +with horror. As it was, I was nerved for any sight. The passion of +my discovery was upon me, and I tossed the mouldering bones out to +right and left. + +"But stay. There seemed a great many in the trough. Surely this was +the third thigh-bone that I held now in my hand. Yes, and below, +close to the bottom of the trough, lay two skulls side by side. +There were two, then, buried here. The parchment had only spoken of +one. But I had no time to consider about this. What I sought now +was the Secret, and as I took up the second skull I caught the gleam +of metal underneath it. I put in my hand and drew out a Buckle of +Gold. + +"This buckle is formed of two pieces, bound to either end of a thin +belt of rotten linen, and united by hook and socket. Its whole +dimensions are but 3 inches by 2 inches, but inside its curiously +carved border it is entirely covered with writing in rude English +character. The narrowing funnel of the trough had kept it from being +crushed by the statue, which fitted into a rim running round the +interior. Beyond the buckle and the two skeletons there was nothing +in the trough; but I looked for nothing else. Here, in my hands, lay +the secret of the Great Ruby of Ceylon; my fingers clutched the +wealth of princes. My journey had ended and the riches of the earth +were in my grasp. + +"Forgetful of my guides, forgetful of the flight of time, mindful of +nothing but the Golden Buckle, I sat down by the rim of the trough +and began to decipher the writing. The inscription, as far as I +could gather, ran right across the clasp. It could be read easily +enough and contained accurate directions for searching in some spot, +but where that spot was it did not reveal. It might be close to the +statue; and I was about to start up and make the attempt when I +thought again of the parchment. Pulling it from my pocket, I read: +'_ . . . beneath this stone lies the secret of the Great Ruby; and +yet not all, for the rest is graven on the Key which shall be already +entrusted to you. These precautions have I taken that none may +surprise this Secret but its right possessor. . . ._' + +"Now my father's Will had expressly enjoined, on pain of his dying +curse, that this key should not be moved from its place until the +Trenoweth who went to seek the treasure should have returned and +crossed the threshold of Lantrig. Consequently the ruby was not +buried on Adam's Peak, or to return for the key would have been so +much labour wasted. Consequently, also, the Golden Buckle was +valueless to anybody but him who knew the rest of my father's +injunctions. Although not yet in my hand, the Great Ruby was mine. +I was folding up the buckle with the parchment before rejoining the +guides, when a curious thing happened. + +"The sun had climbed high into heaven whilst I was absorbed in my +search, and was now flooding the little lawn with light. In my +excitement I had heard and seen nothing, nor noted that the heat was +growing unbearable beneath the vertical rays. But as I was folding +up the parchment a black shadow suddenly fell across the page. +I started and looked up. + +"Above me stood Simon Colliver. + +"He was standing in the broad light of the sun and watching me +intently, with a curious smile which grew as our eyes met. How long +he had been there I could not guess, but the strangeness of meeting +him on this spot, and the occupation in which I was surprised, +discomposed me not a little. Hastily thrusting back the buckle and +the parchment into my pocket, I scrambled to my feet and stood facing +him. Even as I did so, all Mr. Sanderson's warnings came flashing +into my mind. + +"For full a minute we stood confronting each other without a word. +He was still standing in the full blaze of the sunlight, with the +same odd smile upon his face, and a peculiar light in his dark eyes +that never swerved for a moment. Finally he gave a low laugh and +nodding lightly, said-- + +"'Odd thing our meeting like this, eh? Hand of Fate or some such +thing might be mixed up in it from the way we run across each other's +path.' + +"I assented. + +"'Queer too, you'll allow, that we should both be struck with the +fancy for ascending this mountain. Very few Europeans do it, so I'm +told. I'm on my way up, are you? No? Coming down and taking things +easily, to judge by the way I found you occupied.' + +"Was the man mocking me? Or had he, after all, no suspicions? +His voice was soft and pleasant as ever, nor could I detect a trace +of irony in its tone. But I was on my guard. + +"'This Peak seems strewn with the handiwork of the heathen,' he +continued. 'But really you seem to be in luck's way. I congratulate +you. What's this? Skeletons, eh? Upon my word, Trenoweth, you've +unearthed a treasure. And this? A statue? Well, it's a queer place +to come hunting for statues, but you've picked up an ugly-looking +beggar in all conscience!' + +"He had advanced to the head, which lay in the rank herbage staring +up in hideous spite to heaven. Presently he turned to me and said-- + +"'Well, this is very remarkable. The fellow who carved this seems to +have borrowed my features--not very complimentary of him, I must say. +Don't you see the likeness?' + +"It was solemn truth. Feature by feature that atrocious face was +simply a reproduction of Colliver's. As I stared in amazement, it +seemed more and more marvellous that I had not noticed the +resemblance before. True, each feature was distorted and exaggerated +to produce the utter malignity of its expression. But the face was +the face of Colliver. Nobody could have called him a handsome man, +but before this I had found Colliver not unpleasant to look upon. +Now the hate of the statue's face seemed to have reflected itself +upon him. I leant against a tree for support and passed my hand +across my brow as if to banish a fearful dream. But it was no dream, +and when he turned to speak again I could see lurking beneath the +assumed expression of the man all the evil passions and foul +wickedness engraved upon the stone. + +"'Well,' he remarked, 'stranger things than this have happened, but +not much. You seem distressed, Trenoweth. Surely I, if any one, +have the right to be annoyed. But you let your antiquarian zeal +carry you too far. It's hardly fair to dig these poor remains from +their sepulchre and leave them to bleach beneath this tropical sun, +even in the interest of science.' + +"With this he knelt down and began to gather--very reverently, as I +thought--the bones into a heap, and replace them in their tomb. +This done, he kicked up a lump or two of turf from the little lawn +and pressed it down upon them, humming to himself all the while. +Finally he rose and turned again towards me-- + +"'You'll excuse me, Trenoweth. It's sentimental, no doubt, but I +have conceived a kind of respect for these remains. Suppose, for +example, this face was really a portrait of one of this buried pair. +Why, then the deceased was very like me. I forgive him for +caricaturing my features now; were he alive, it might be different. +But this place is sufficiently out of the way to prevent the +resemblance being noted by many. By the way, I forgot to ask how you +chanced on this spot. For my part, I thought that I heard something +moving in the thicket, so I followed the sound out of pure curiosity, +and came upon you. Well, well! it's a strange world; and it's a +wonderful thought too, that this may be the grave of some primaeval +ancestor of mine who roamed this Peak for his daily food--an ancestor +of some importance too, in his day, to judge by the magnificence of +his tomb. A poet might make something out of this: to-day face to +face with the day before yesterday. But that's the beauty of +archaeology. I did not know it was a pursuit of yours, and am glad +to see you are sufficiently recovered of your illness to take it up +again. Good-bye for the present. I am obliged to be cautious in +taking farewell of you, for we have such a habit of meeting +unexpectedly. So, as I have to be up and moving for the summit, I'll +say 'Good-bye for the present.' We may as well leave this image +where it is; the dead won't miss it, and it's handy by, at any rate. +_Addio_, Trenoweth, and best of luck to your future researches.' + +"He was gone. I could hear him singing as he went a strange song +which he had often sung on the outward voyage-- + + "'Sing hey! for the dead man's lips, my lads; + Sing ho! for the dead man's soul. + At his red, red lips. . . .' + +"The song died away in the distance before I moved. I had hardly +opened my lips during the interview, and now had much ado to believe +it a reality. But the newly-turfed grave was voucher enough for +this. A horror of the place seized me; I cast one shuddering look at +the giant face and rushed from the spot, leaving the silent creepers +to veil once more that awful likeness from the eyes of day. + +"As I emerged upon the track again I came upon Peter and Paul, who +were seeking me high and low, with dismay written upon their faces. +Excusing my absence as best I could, I declared myself ready, in +spite of my ankle, to make all haste in the descent. Of our journey +down the Peak I need say little, except that, lame as I was, I +surprised and exhausted my guides in my hurry. Of the dangers and +difficulties which had embarrassed our ascent I seemed to feel +nothing. Except in the cool of the forest, the heat was almost +insufferable; but I would hear of no delay until we reached +Ratnapoora. Here, instead of returning as we had come, we took a +boat down the Kalu-ganga river to Cattura, and thence travelled along +the coast by Pantura to Colombo. + +"The object of my journey is now accomplished: and it only remains to +hasten home with all speed. But I am feeling strangely unwell as I +write this. My head has never fully recovered that blow at Bombay, +and I think the hours during which I remained exposed to the sun's +rays, by the side of that awful image, must have affected it. +Or perhaps the fatigue of the journey has worn me out. If I am going +to sicken I must hide my secret. It would be safer to bury it with +the Journal, at any rate for the time, somewhere in the garden here. +I have a tin box that will just answer the purpose. My head is +giving me agony. I can write no more." + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +CONTAINS THE THIRD AND LAST PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: SETTING +FORTH THE MUTINY ON BOARD THE _BELLE FORTUNE_. + +"June 19th.--Strange that wherever I am hospitably entertained I +recompense my host by falling ill in his house. Since my last entry +in this Journal I have been lying at the gate of death, smitten down +with a sore sickness. It seems that the long exposure and weariness +of my journey to the Peak threw me into a fever: but of this I should +soon have recovered, were it not for my head, which I fear will never +be wholly right again. That cowardly blow upon Malabar Hill has made +a sad wreck of me; twice, when I seemed in a fair way to recovery, +has my mind entirely given way. Mr. Eversleigh, indeed, assures me +that my life has more than once been despaired of--and then what +would have become of poor Margery? I hope I am thankful to God for +so mercifully sparing my poor life, the more so because conscious how +unworthy I am to appear before Him. + +"I trust I did not betray my secret in my wanderings. Mr. Eversleigh +tells me I talked the strangest stuff at times--about rubies and +skeletons, and a certain dreadful face from which I was struggling to +escape. But the security of my Journal and the golden clasp, which I +recovered to-day, somewhat reassures me. I am allowed to walk in the +garden for a short space every day, but not until to-day have I found +strength to dig for my hoard. I can hardly describe my emotions on +finding it safe and sound. + +"Poor Margery! How anxious she must be getting at my silence. +I will write her to-morrow--at least I will begin my letter +to-morrow, for I shall not have strength to finish it in one day. +Even now I ought not to be writing, but I cannot forbear making an +entry in my recovered Journal, if only to record my thankfulness to +Heaven for my great deliverance. + +"June 22nd.--I have written to Margery, but torn the letter up on +second thoughts, as I had better wait until I hear news of a vessel +in which I can safely travel home. Mr. Eversleigh (who is very kind +to me, though not so hearty as Mr. Sanderson) will not hear of my +starting in my present condition. I wonder in what part of the world +Colliver is travelling now. + +"July 1st.--Oh, this weary waiting! Shall I never see the shores of +England again? The doctor says that I only make myself worse with +fretting; but it is hard to linger so--when at my journey's end lies +wealth almost beyond the imagination, and (what is far more to me) +the sight of my dear ones. + +"July 4th.--In answer to my entreaties, Mr. Eversleigh has consented +to make inquiries about the homeward-bound vessels starting from +Colombo. The result is that he has at once allayed my impatience, +and compassed his end of keeping me a little longer, by selecting-- +upon condition that I approve his choice--an East Indiaman due to +sail in about a fortnight's time. The name of the ship is the _Belle +Fortune_, and of the captain, Cyrus Holding. In spite of the name +the ship is English, and is a barque of about 600 tons register. +Her cargo consists of sugar and coffee, and her crew numbers some +eighteen hands. To-morrow I am going down with Mr. Eversleigh to +inspect her, but I am prepared beforehand to find her to my liking. +The only pity is that she does not start earlier. + +"July 6th.--Weak as I am, even yesterday's short excursion exhausted +me, so that I felt unable to write a word last night. I have been +over the _Belle Fortune_, and am more than pleased, especially with +her captain, whose honest face took my fancy at once. I have a most +comfortable cabin next to his set apart for me, at little cost, since +it had been fitted up for a lady on the outward voyage: so that I +shall still have a little money in pocket on my return, as my living, +both here and at Bombay, has cost me nothing, and the doctor's bills +have not exhausted my store. I wrote to Margery to-day, making as +light of my illness as I could, and saying nothing of the business on +Malabar Hill. That will best be told her when she has me home again, +and can hold my hand feeling that I am secure. + +"July 8th.--I have been down again to-day to see the _Belle Fortune_. +I forgot to say that she belongs to Messrs. Vincent and Hext, of +Bristol, and is bound for that port. The only other passengers are a +Dr. Concanen and his wife, who are acquaintances of Mr. Eversleigh. +Dr. Concanen is a physician with a good practice in Colombo, or was-- +as his wife's delicate health has forced him to throw up his +employment here and return to England. Mr. Eversleigh introduced me +to them this morning on the _Belle Fortune_. The husband is almost +as tall as my host, and looks a man of great strength: Mrs. Concanen +is frail and worn, but very lovely. To-day she seemed so ill that I +offered to give up my cabin, which is really much more comfortable +than theirs. But she would not hear of it, insisting that I was by +far the greater invalid, and that a sailing vessel would quickly set +her right again--especially a vessel bound for England. Altogether +they promise to be most pleasant companions. I forgot to say that +Mrs. Concanen is taking a native maid home to act as her nurse. + +"July 11th.--We start in a week's time. I had a long talk with +Captain Holding to-day; he hopes to make a fairly quick passage, but +says he is short of hands. I have not seen the Concanens since. + +"July 16th.--We sail to-morrow afternoon. I have been down to make +my final preparations, and find my cabin much to my liking. +Captain Holding is still short of hands. + +"July 17th., 7.30 p.m.--We cast off our warps shortly after four +o'clock, and were quickly running homeward at about seven knots an +hour. The Concanens stood on deck with me watching Ceylon grow dim +on the horizon. As the proud cone of Adam's Peak faded softly and +slowly into the evening mist, and so vanished, as I hope, for ever +out of my life, I could not forbear returning thanks to Providence, +which has thus far watched over me so wonderfully. There is a fair +breeze, and the hands, though short, do their work well to all +appearances. There were only fifteen yesterday, three having been +missed for about a week before we sailed; but I have not yet seen +Captain Holding to ask him if he made up his number of hands at the +last moment. Mrs. Concanen has invited me to their cabin to have a +chat about England. + +"July 18th.--I am more disturbed than I care to own by a very curious +discovery which I made this morning. As I issued on deck I saw a man +standing by the forecastle, whose back seemed familiar to me. +Presently he turned, and I saw him to be Simon Colliver. He has most +strangely altered his appearance, being dressed now as a common +sailor, and wearing rings in his ears as the custom is. Catching +sight of me, he came forward with a pleasant smile and explained +himself. + +"'It is no manner of use, Trenoweth; we're fated to meet. You did +not expect to see me here in this get-up; but I learnt last night you +were on board. You look as though you had seen a ghost! Don't stare +so, man--I should say 'sir' now, I suppose--it's only another of +fortune's rubs. I fell ill after that journey to the Peak, and +although Railton nursed me like a woman--he's a good fellow, Railton, +and not as rough as you would expect--I woke up out of my fever at +last to find all the money gone. I'm a fellow of resource, +Trenoweth, so I hit on the idea of working my passage home; by good +luck found the _Belle Fortune_ was short of hands, offered my +services, was accepted--having been to sea before, you know--sold my +old clothes for this costume--must dress when one is acting a part-- +and here I am.' + +"'Is Railton with you?' I asked. + +"'Oh, yes, similarly attired. I did not see you yesterday, being +busy with the cargo, so that it's all the more pleasant to meet here. +But work is the order of the day now. You'll give me a good +character to the captain, won't you? Good-bye for the present.' + +"I cannot tell how much this meeting has depressed me. Certainly I +have no reason for disbelieving the man's story, but the frequency +and strangeness of our meetings make it hard to believe them +altogether accidental. I saw Railton in the afternoon: he is greatly +altered for the worse, and, I should think, had been drinking heavily +before he shipped; but the captain was evidently too short of hands +to be particular. I think I will give the Concanens my tin box to +hide in their cabin. Of course I can trust them, and this will +baffle theft; the clasp I will wear about me. This is a happy idea; +I will go to their cabin now and ask them. It is 9.30 p.m., and the +wind is still fair, I believe. + +"July 20th.--We have so far kept up an average speed of seven and a +half knots an hour, and Captain Holding thinks we shall make even +better sailing when the hands are more accustomed to their work. +I spend my time mostly with the Concanens--who readily, by the way, +undertook the care of my tin box--and find them the most agreeable of +fellow-travellers. Mrs. Concanen has a very sweet voice, and her +husband has learnt to accompany it on the guitar, so that altogether +we spend very pleasant evenings. + +"July 21st, 22nd, 23rd.--The weather is still beautiful, and the +breeze steady. Last night, at about six in the evening, it freshened +up, and we ran all night under reefed topsails in expectation of a +squall; but nothing came of it. I trust the wind will last, not only +because it brings me nearer home, but also because without it the +heat would be intolerable. The mention of home leads me to say that +Mrs. Concanen was most sympathetic when I spoke of Margery. It is +good to be able to talk of my wife to this kind creature, and she is +so devoted to her husband that she plainly finds it easy to +sympathise. They are a most happy couple. + +"July 24th.--Our voyage, hitherto so prosperous, has been marred +to-day by a sad accident. Mr. Wilkins, the mate, was standing almost +directly under the mainmast at about 4.30 this afternoon, when +Railton, who was aloft, let slip a block, which descended on the +mate's head, striking it with fearful force and killing him +instantly. He was an honest, kindly man, to judge from the little I +have seen of him, and, as Captain Holding assures me, an excellent +navigator. Poor Railton was dreadfully upset by the effects of his +clumsiness; although I dislike the man, I have not the heart to blame +him when I see the contrition upon his face. + +"July 25th, midnight.--We buried Wilkins to-day. Captain Holding +read the burial service, and was much affected, for Wilkins was a +great friend of his; we then lowered the body into the sea. I spent +the evening with the Concanens, the captain being on deck and too +depressed to receive consolation. Nor was it much better with us in +the cabin. Although we tried to talk we were all depressed and +melancholy, and I retired earlier than usual to write my Journal. + +"July 26th to August 4th.--There has been nothing to record. +The wind has been fair as yet throughout, though it dropped yesterday +(Aug. 3rd), and we lay for some hours in a dead calm. We have +recovered our spirits altogether by this time. + +"August 5th.--One of our hands, Griffiths, fell overboard to-day and +was drowned. He and Colliver were out upon the fore-yard when +Griffiths slipped, and missing the deck, fell clear into the sea. +The captain was below at the time, but rushed upon deck on hearing +Colliver's alarm of 'Man overboard!' It was too late, however. +The vessel was making eight knots an hour at the time, and although +it was immediately put about, there was not the slightest hope of +finding the poor fellow. Indeed, we never saw him again." + +[At this point the Journal becomes strangely meagre, consisting +almost entirely of disconnected jottings about the weather, while +here and there occurs merely a date with the latitude and longitude +entered opposite. Only two entries seem of any importance: one of +August 20th, noting that they had doubled the Cape, and a second +written two days later and running as follows:--] + +"August 22nd.--Dr. Concanen came into my cabin early this morning and +told me that his wife had just given birth to a son. He seemed +prodigiously elated; and I congratulated him heartily, as this is the +first child born to them. He stayed but a moment or so with me, and +then went back to attend to his wife. I spent most of the day on +deck with Captain Holding, who is unceasingly vigilant now. +Wind continues steadily S.E." + +[After this the record is again scanty, but among less important +entries we found the following:--] + +"August 29th.--Mrs. Concanen rapidly recovering The child is a fine +boy: so, at least, the doctor says, though I confess I should have +thought it rather small. However, it seems able to cry lustily. + +"Sept. 6th.--Sighted Ascension Island. + +"Sept. 8th, 9th.--Wind dropping off and heat positively stifling. +A curious circumstance occurred today (the 9th), which shows that I +did well to be careful of my Journal. I was sitting on deck with the +Concanens, beneath an awning which the doctor has rigged up to +protect us from the heat, when our supply of tobacco ran short. +As I was descending for more I met Colliver coming out of my cabin. +He was rather disconcerted at seeing me, but invented some trivial +excuse about fetching a thermometer which Captain Holding had lent +me. I am confident now that he was on the look-out for my papers, +the more so as I had myself restored the thermometer to the captain's +cabin two days ago. It is lucky that I confided my papers to the +Concanens. As for Railton, the hangdog look on that man's face has +increased with his travels. He seems quite unable to meet my eye, +and returns short, surly answers if questioned. I cannot think his +dejection is solely due to poor Wilkins' death, for I noticed +something very like it on the outward voyage." + +[Here follow a few jottings on weather and speed, which latter--with +the exception of five days during which the vessel lay becalmed-- +seems to have been very satisfactory. On the 17th they caught a +light breeze from N.E., and on the 19th passed Cape Verde. +Soon after this the Journal becomes connected again, and so +continues.] + +"Sept. 24th.--Just after daybreak, went on deck, and found Captain +Holding already there. This man seems positively to require no +sleep. Since Wilkins' death he has managed the navigation almost +entirely alone. He seemed unusually grave this morning, and told me +that four of the hands had been taken ill during the night with +violent attacks of vomiting, and were lying below in great danger. +He had not seen the doctor yet, but suspected that something was +wrong with the food. At this point the doctor joined us and took the +captain aside. They conversed earnestly for about three minutes, and +presently I heard the captain exclaiming in a louder tone, 'Well, +doctor, of course you know best, but I can't believe it for all +that.' Shortly after the doctor went below again to look after his +patients. He was very silent when we met again at dinner, and I have +not seen him since. + +"Sept. 25th.--One of the hands, Walters, died during the night in +great agony. We sighted the Peak of Teneriffe early in the +afternoon, and I remained on deck with Mrs. Concanen, watching it. +The doctor is below, analysing the food. I believe he is completely +puzzled by this curious epidemic. + +"Sept. 26th.--Wind N.E., but somewhat lighter. Three more men seized +last night with precisely the same symptoms. With three deaths and +five men ill, we are now left with but nine hands (not counting the +captain) to work the ship. Walters was buried to-day. I learned +from Mrs. Concanen that her husband has made a _post mortem_ +examination of the body. I do not know what his conclusions are. + +"I open my Journal again to record another disquieting accident. +It is odd, but I have missed one of the pieces of my father's clasp. +I am positive it was in my pocket last night. I now have an +indistinct recollection of hearing something fall whilst I was +dressing this morning, but although I have searched both cabin and +state-room thoroughly, I can find nothing. However, even if it has +fallen into Colliver's hands, which is unlikely, he can make nothing +of it, and luckily I know the words written upon it by heart. +Still the loss has vexed me not a little. I will have another search +before turning in to-night. + +"Sept. 27th.--Wind has shifted to N.W. The doctor was summoned +during the night to visit one of the men taken ill two nights before. +The poor fellow died before daybreak, and I hear that another is not +expected to live until night. The doctor has only been on deck for a +few minutes to-day, and these he occupied in talk with the captain, +who seems to have caught the prevailing depression, for he has been +going about in a state of nervous disquietude all the afternoon. +I expect that want of sleep is telling upon him at last. The clasp +is still missing. + +"Sept. 28th.--A rough day, and all hands busily engaged. Wind mostly +S.W., but shifted to due W. before nightfall. Three of the invalids +are better, but the other is still lying in a very critical state. + +"Sept. 29th, 30th, Oct. 1st, 2nd.--Weather squally, so that we may +expect heavy seas in the Bay of Biscay. All the invalids are by this +time in a fair way of recovery, and one of them will be strong enough +to return to work in a couple of days. Doctor Concanen is still +strangely silent, however, and the captain's cheerfulness seems quite +to have left him. Oh, that this gloomy voyage were over! + +"Oct. 3rd.--Weather clearer. Light breeze from S.S.W. + +"Oct. 5th.--Let me roughly put down in few words what has happened, +not that I see at present any chance of leaving this accursed ship +alive, but in the hope that Providence may thus be aided--as far as +human aid may go--in bringing these villains to justice, if this +Journal should by any means survive me. + +"Last night, shortly before ten, I went at Doctor Concanen's +invitation to chat in his cabin. The doctor himself was busily +occupied with some medical works, to which, as his wife assured me, +he had been giving his whole attention of late. But Mrs. Concanen +and I sat talking together of home until close upon midnight, when +the baby, who was lying asleep at her side, awoke and began to cry. +Upon this she broke off her conversation and began to sing the little +fellow to sleep. 'Home, Sweet Home' was the song, and at the end of +the first verse--so sweetly touching, however hackneyed, to all +situated as we--the doctor left his books, came over, and was +standing behind her, running his hands, after a trick of his, +affectionately through her hair, when the native nurse, who slept in +the next cabin and had heard the baby crying, came in and offered to +take him. Mrs. Concanen, however, assured her that it was not +necessary, and the girl was just going out of the door when suddenly +we heard a scream and then the captain's voice calling, 'Trenoweth! +Doctor! Help, help!' + +"The doctor immediately rushed past the maid and up the companion. +I was just following at his heels when I heard two shots fired in +rapid succession, and then a heavy crash. Immediately the girl fell +with a shriek, and the doctor came staggering heavily back on top of +her. Quick as thought, I pulled them inside, locked the cabin door, +and began to examine their wounds. The girl was quite dead, being +shot through the breast, while Concanen was bleeding terribly from a +wound just below the shoulder: the bullet must have grazed his upper +arm, tearing open the flesh and cutting an artery, passed on and +struck the nurse, who was just behind. Mrs. Concanen was kneeling +beside him and vainly endeavouring to staunch the flow of blood. + +"Oddly enough, the attack, from whatever quarter it came, was not +followed up; but I heard two more shots fired on deck, and then a +loud crashing and stamping in the fore part of the vessel, and judged +that the mutineers were battening and barricading the forecastle. +I unlocked the door and was going out to explore the situation, when +the doctor spoke in a weak voice-- + +"'Quick, Trenoweth! never mind me. I've got the main artery torn to +pieces and can't last many more minutes--but quick for the captain's +cabin and get the guns. They'll be down presently, as soon as +they've finished up there.' + +"Opening the door and telling Mrs. Concanen--who although white as a +sheet never lost her presence of mind for a moment--to lock it after +me, I stole along the passage, gained the captain's cabin, found two +guns, a small keg of powder (to get at which I had to smash in a +locker with the butt-end of one of the guns), and some large shot, +brought I suppose for shooting gulls. + +"I found also a large packet of revolver cartridges, but no revolver; +and it suddenly struck me that the shots already fired must have been +from the captain's revolver, taken probably from his dead body. +Yes, as I remembered the sound of the shots I was sure of it. +The mutineers had probably no other ammunition, and so far I was +their master. + +"Fearful that by smashing the locker I had made noise enough to be +heard above the turmoil on deck, I returned swiftly and had just +reached the door of Concanen's cabin, when I heard a shout above, and +a man whom I recognised by the voice as Johnston, the carpenter, came +rushing down the steps crying, 'Hide me, doctor, hide me!' As Mrs. +Concanen opened the door in answer to my call, another shot was +fired, the man suddenly threw up his hands and we tumbled into the +cabin together. I turned as soon as I had locked and barricaded the +door, and saw him lying on his face--quite dead. He had been shot in +the back, just below the shoulder-blades. + +"The doctor also was at his last gasp, and the floor literally swam +with blood. As we bent over him to catch his words he whispered, +'It was Railton--that--I saw. Good-bye, Alice,' and fell back a +corpse. I carried the body to a corner of the cabin, took off my +jacket and covered up his face, and turned to Mrs. Concanen. She was +dry-eyed, but dreadfully white. + +"'Give me the guns,' she said quietly, 'and show me how to load +them.' + +"I was doing so when I heard footsteps coming slowly down the +companion. A moment after, two crashing blows were struck upon the +door-panel and Colliver's voice cried-- + +"'Trenoweth, you dog, are you hiding there? Give me up those papers +and come out.' + +"For answer I sent a charge of shot through the cabin door, and in an +instant heard him scrambling back with all speed up the stairs. + +"By this time it was about 3 a.m., and to add to the horrors of our +plight the lamp suddenly went out and left us in utter darkness. +I drew Mrs. Concanen aside--after strengthening the barricade about +the door--put her and the child in a corner where she would be safe +if they attempted to fire through the skylight, and then sat down +beside her to consider. + +"If, as I suspected, the mutineers had only the revolver which they +had taken from the captain, they had but one shot left, for I had +already counted five, and it was not likely that Holding--who always, +as I knew, carried some weapon with him--would have any loose +cartridges upon him at a time when no one suspected the least danger. + +"Next, as to numbers. Excluding Captain Holding--now dead--and +including the cook I reckoned that there were fourteen hands on +board. Of these, five were sick and probably at this moment +barricaded in the forecastle. One, the carpenter, was lying here +dead, and from the shriek which preceded the captain's cry, another +had already been accounted for by the mutineers. + +"This reduced the number to eight. The next question was, how many +were the mutineers? I had guessed at once that Colliver and Railton +had a hand in the business, for (in addition to my previous distrust +of the men) it was just upon midnight when we heard the first cry, +that is to say, the time when the watch was changed, and I knew that +these two belonged to the captain's watch. But could they be alone? + +"It seemed impossible, and yet I knew no others among the crew to +distrust, and certainly Davis, who was acting as mate at present, +was, although an indifferent navigator, as true as steel. Moreover, +the fact that the mutineers' success in shooting the doctor had not +been followed up, made my guess seem more likely. Certainly Colliver +and Railton were the only two of whom we could be sure as yet. +Nevertheless the supposition was amazing. + +"I had arrived at this point in my calculations when a yell which I +recognised, told me that they had caught Cox the helmsman and were +murdering him. After this came dead silence, which lasted all +through the night. + +"I must hasten to conclude this, for we have no light in the cabin, +and I am writing now by the faint evening rays that struggle in +through the sky-light. As soon as morning broke I determined to +reconnoitre. Cautiously removing the barricade, I opened the cabin +door and stole up the companion ladder. Arrived at the top I peered +cautiously over and saw the mutineers sitting by the forward hatch, +drinking. They were altogether four in number--Colliver, Railton, a +seaman called Rogerson, who had lately been punished by Captain +Holding for sleeping when on watch, and the cook, a Chinaman. +Rogerson was not with the rest, but had hold of the wheel and was +steering. The vessel at the time was sailing under crowded canvas +before a stiff sou'-westerly breeze. I kept low lest Rogerson should +see me, but he was obviously more than half drunk, and was chiefly +occupied in regarding his comrades with anything but a pleasant air. +Just as I was drawing a beautiful bead however, and had well covered +Colliver, he saw me and gave the alarm; and immediately the three +sprang to their feet and made for me, the Chinaman first. Altering +my aim I waited until he came close and then fired. I must have hit +him, I think in the ankle, for he staggered and fell with a loud cry +about ten paces from me. Seeing this, I made all speed again down +the ladder, turning at the cabin door for a hasty shot with the +second barrel, which, I think, missed. The other two pursued me +until I gained the cabin, and then went back to their comrade. +The rest of the day has been quite quiet. Luckily we have a large +tin of biscuits in the cabin, so as far as food goes we can hold out +for some time. Mrs. Concanen and I are going to take turns at +watching to-night. + +"Oct. 6th, 4 p.m.--At about 1.30 a.m. I was sleeping when Mrs. +Concanen woke me on hearing a noise by the skylight. The mutineers, +finding this to be the only point from which they could attack us +with any safety, had hit upon the plan of lashing knives to the end +of long sticks and were attempting to stab us with these clumsy +weapons. It was so dark that I could hardly see to aim, but a couple +of shots fired in rapid succession drove them quickly away. The rest +of the night was passed quietly enough, except for the cries of the +infant, which are very pitiable. The day, too, has been without +event, except that I have heard occasional sounds in the +neighbourhood of the forecastle, which I think must come from the +sick men imprisoned there, and attempting to cut their way out. + +"Oct. 7th.--We are still let alone. Doubtless the mutineers think to +starve us out or to lull us into a false security and catch us +unawares. As for starvation, the box of biscuits will last us both +for a week or more; and they stand little chance of taking us by +surprise, for one of us is always on the watch whilst the other +sleeps. They spent last night in drinking. Railton's voice was very +loud at times, and I could hear Colliver singing his infernal song-- + + "'Sing hey! for the dead man's lips, my lads.' + +"That man must be a fiend incarnate. I have but little time to write, +and between every word have to look about for signs of the mutineers. +I wonder whither they are steering us. + +"Oct. 8th.--A rough day evidently, by the way in which the vessel is +pitching, but I expect the crew are for the most part drunk. We must +find some way of getting rid of the dead bodies soon. I hardly like +to speak to Mrs. Concanen about it. Words cannot express the +admiration I feel for the pluck of this delicate woman. She asked me +to-day to show her how to use a gun, and I believe will fight to the +end. Her child is ailing fast, poor little man! And yet he is +happier than we, being unconscious of all these horrors. + +"Oct. 9th, 3.30 p.m.--Sick of this inaction I made another expedition +up the companion to-day. Rogerson was steering, and Railton standing +by the wheel talking to him. He had a bottle in his hand and seemed +very excited. I could not see Colliver at first, but on glancing up +at the rigging saw a most curious sight. There was a man on the +main-top, the boatswain, Kelly, apparently asleep. Below him +Colliver was climbing up, knife in mouth, and was already within a +couple of yards of him. I fired and missed, but alarmed Kelly, who +jumped up and seized a block which he had cut off to defend himself +with. At the same moment Railton and Rogerson made for me. As I +retreated down the ladder I stumbled, the gun went off and I think +hit Rogerson, who was first. We rolled down the stairs together, he +on top and hacking at me furiously with a knife. At this moment I +heard the report of a gun, and my assailant's grasp suddenly relaxed. +He fell back, tripping up Railton who was following unsteadily, and +so giving me time to gain the cabin door, where Mrs. Concanen was +standing, a smoking gun in her hand. Before we could shut the door, +however, Colliver, who by this time had gained the head of the +stairs, fired, and she dropped backwards inside the cabin. +Locking the door, I found her lying with a wound just below the +heart. She had just time to point to her child before she died. +Was ever so ghastly a tragedy? + +"Oct. 10th.--Awake all night, trying to soothe the cries of the +child, and at the same time keeping a good look-out for the +mutineers. The sea is terribly rough, and the poor corpses are being +pitched from side to side of the cabin. At midday I heard a cry on +deck, and judged that Kelly had dropped from the rigging in pure +exhaustion. The noise in the forecastle is awful. I think some of +the men there must be dead. + +"Oct. 11th, 5 p.m.--The child is dying. There is a fearful storm +raging, and with this crew the vessel has no chance if we are +anywhere near land. God help--" + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +TELLS OF THE WRITING UPON THE GOLDEN CLASP; AND HOW I TOOK DOWN THE +GREAT KEY. + +So ended my father's Journal--in a silence full of tragedy, a silence +filled in with the echo of that awful cry borne landwards on the +wings of the storm; and now, in the presence of this mute witness, +shaping itself into the single word "Murder." Of the effect of the +reading upon us, I need not speak at any length. For the most part +it had passed without comment; but the occasional choking of Uncle +Loveday's voice, my own quickening breath as the narrative continued, +and the tears that poured down the cheeks of both of us as we heard +the simple loving messages for Margery--messages so vainly tender, so +pitifully fond--were evidence enough of our emotion. + +I say that we both wept, and it is true. But though, do what I +could, my young heart would swell and ache until the tears came at +times, yet for the most part I sat with cold and gathering hate. +It was mournful enough when I consider it. That the hand which +penned these anxious lines should be cold and stiff, the ear for +which they were so lovingly intended for ever deaf: that all the warm +hopes should end beside that bed where husband and wife lay dead-- +surely this was tragic enough. But I did not think of this at the +time--or but dimly if at all. Hate, impotent hate, was consuming my +young heart as the story drew to its end; hate and no other feeling +possessed me as Uncle Loveday broke abruptly off, turned the page in +search of more, found none, and was silent. + +Once he had stopped for a moment to call for a candle. +Mrs. Busvargus brought it, trimmed the wick, and again retired. +This was our only interruption. Joe Roscorla had not returned from +Polkimbra; so we were left alone to the gathering shadows and the +horror of the tale. + +When my uncle finished there was a long pause. Finally he reached +out his hand for his pipe, filled it, and looked up. His kindly face +was furrowed with the marks of weeping, and big tears were yet +standing in his eyes. + +"Murdered," he said, "murdered, if ever man was murdered." + +"Yes," I echoed, "murdered." + +"But we'll have the villain," he exclaimed, bringing his fist down on +the table with sudden energy. "We'll have him for all his cunning, +eh, boy?" + +"Not yet," I answered; "he is far away by this time. But we'll have +him: oh, yes, we'll have him." + +Uncle Loveday looked at me oddly for a moment, and then repeated-- + +"Yes, yes, we'll have him safe enough. Joe Roscorla must have given +the alarm before he had time to go far. And to think," he added, +throwing up his hand, "that I talked to the villain only yesterday +morning as though he were some unfortunate victim of the sea!" + +I am sure that my uncle was regretting the vast deal of very fine +language he had wasted: and, indeed, he had seldom more nobly risen +to an occasion. + +"Pearls, pearls before swine! Swine did I say? Snakes, if it's not +an insult to a snake to give its name to such as Colliver. What did +you say, Jasper?" + +"We'll have him." + +"Jasper, my boy," said he, scanning me for a second time oddly, +"maybe you'll be better in bed. Try to sleep again, my poor lad-- +what do you think?" + +"I think," I answered, "that we have not yet looked at the clasp." + +"My dear boy, you're right: you're right again. Let us look at it." + +The piece of metal resembled, as I have said, the half of a +waist-buckle, having a socket but no corresponding hook. In shape it +was slightly oblong, being about 2 inches by one and a half inches. +It glittered brightly in the candle's ray as Uncle Loveday polished +it with his handkerchief, readjusted his spectacles, and bent over +it. + +At the end of a minute he looked up, and said-- + +"I cannot make head or tail of it. It seems plain enough to read, +but makes nonsense. Come over here and see for yourself." + +I bent over his shoulder, and this is what I saw-- + +The edge of the clasp was engraved with a border of flowers and +beasts, all exquisitely small. Within this was cut, by a much +rougher hand, an inscription which was plain enough to read, though +making no sense whatever. The writing was arranged in five lines of +three words apiece, and ran thus:-- + + MOON END SOUTH. + N.N.W. 22 FEET. + NORTH SIDE 4. + DEEP AT POINT. + WATER 1.5 HOURS. + +I read the words a full dozen times, and then, failing of any +interpretation, turned to Uncle Loveday-- + +"Jasper," said he, "to my mind those words make nonsense." + +"And to mine, uncle." + +"Now attend to me, Jasper. This is evidently but one half of the +clasp which your father discovered. That's as plain as daylight. +The question is, what has become of the other half, of the hook that +should fit into this eye? Now, what I want you to do is to try and +remember if this was all that the man Railton gave you." + +"This was all." + +"You are quite certain?" + +"Quite." + +"You did not leave the other piece behind in the cow-shed by any +chance?" + +"No, for I looked at the packet before I hid it, and there was only +one piece of metal." + +"Very well. One half of the golden clasp being lost, the next +question is, what has become of it?" + +I nodded. + +"To this," said Uncle Loveday, bending forward over the table, "two +answers are possible. Either it lies at the bottom of the sea with +the rest of the freight of the _Belle Fortune_, or it is in +Colliver's possession." + +"It may lie beneath Dead Man's Rock, in John Railton's pocket," I +suggested. + +"True, my boy, true; you put another case. But anyhow it makes no +difference. If it lies at the bottom of the sea, whether in +Railton's pocket or not, the secret is safe. If it is in Colliver's +possession the secret is safe, unless he has seen and learnt by heart +this half of the inscription. In any case, I am sorry to tell you-- +and this is what I was coming to--the secret is closed against us for +the time." + +"That is not certain," said I. + +"Excuse me, Jasper, it is quite certain. You admit yourself that +this writing is nonsense. Well and good. But besides this, I would +have you remember," pursued Uncle Loveday, turning once more to my +father's Journal, "that Ezekiel expressly says, 'The inscription ran +right across the clasp.' It could be read easily enough and +contained accurate directions for searching in some spot, but where +that spot was it did not reveal--" + +"Quite so," I interrupted, "and that is just what we have to +discover." + +"How?" + +"Why, by means of the key, as the parchment and the Will plainly +show. We may still be beaten, but even so, we shall know whereabouts +to look, if we can only catch Colliver." + +"Bless the boy!" said Uncle Loveday, "he certainly has a head." + +"Uncle," continued I, rising to my feet, "the secret of the Great +Ruby is written upon my grandfather's key. That key was to be taken +down when he that undertook the task of discovering the secret should +have returned and crossed the threshold of Lantrig. Uncle, my father +has crossed the threshold of Lantrig--" + +"Feet foremost, feet foremost, my boy. Oh, poor Ezekiel!" + +"Feet foremost, yes," I continued--"dead and murdered, yes. But he +has come: come to find my mother dead, but still he has come. +Uncle, I am the only Trenoweth left to Lantrig; think of it, the only +one left--" + +"Poor Ezekiel! Poor Margery!" + +"Yes, uncle, and all I inherit is the knife that murdered my father, +and this key. I have the knife, and I will take down the key. +We are not beaten yet." + +I drew a chair under the great beam, and mounted it. When first my +grandfather returned he had hung the iron key upon its hook, giving +strict injunctions that no one should touch it. There ever since it +had hung, the centre of a host of spiders' webs. Even my poor +mother's brush, so diligent elsewhere, had never invaded this sacred +relic, and often during our lonely winter evenings had she told me +the story of it: how that Amos Trenoweth's dying curse was laid upon +the person that should touch it, and how the spiders' days were +numbered with every day that brought my father nearer home. + +There it hung now, scarcely to be seen for cobwebs. Its hour had +come at last. Even as I stretched out my hand a dozen horrid things +hurried tumultuously back into darkness. Even as I laid my hand on +it, a big ungainly spider, scared but half incredulous, started in +alarm, hesitated, and finally made off at full speed for shelter. + +This, then, was the key that should unlock the treasure--this, +that had from the first hung over us, the one uncleansed spot in +Lantrig: this was the talisman--this grimy thing lying in my hand. +The spiders had been jealous in their watch. + +Stepping down, I got a cloth and brushed away the cobwebs. The key +was covered thickly with rust, but even so I could see that something +was written upon it. For about a minute I stood polishing it, and +then carried it forward to the light. + +Yes, there was writing upon it, both on the handle and along the +shaft--writing that, as it shaped itself before my eyes, caused them +to stare in wrathful incredulity, caused my heart to sink at first in +dismay and then to swell in mad indignation, caused my blood to turn +to gall and my thoughts to very bitterness. For this was what I +read:-- + +On the handle were engraved in large capitals the initials A. T. +with the date MDCCCXII. Alone the shaft, from handle to wards, ran +on either side the following sentence in old English lettering:-- + +THY HOUSE IS SET UPON THE SANDS AND THY HOPES BY A DEAD MAN. + +This was all. This short sentence was the sum of all the vain quest +on which my father had met his end. "Thy house is set upon the +sands," and even now had crumbled away beneath Amos Trenoweth's curse +"Thy hopes by a dead man," and even now he on whom our hopes had +rested, lay upstairs a pitiful corpse. Was ever mockery more +fiendish? As the full cruelty of the words broke in upon me, once +again I seemed to hear the awful cry from the sea, but now among its +voices rang a fearful laugh as though Amos Trenoweth's soul were +making merry in hell over his grim jest--the slaughter of his son and +his son's wife. + +White with desperate passion, I turned and hurled the accursed key +across the room into the blazing hearth. + +END OF BOOK I. + + + + +BOOK II. + + + + +THE FINDING OF THE GREAT RUBY. + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + +TELLS HOW THOMAS LOVEDAY AND I WENT IN SEARCH OF FORTUNE. + +Seeing that these pages do not profess to be an autobiography, but +rather the plain chronicle of certain events connected with the Great +Ruby of Ceylon, I conceive myself entitled to the reader's pardon if +I do some violence to the art of the narrator, and here ask leave to +pass by, with but slight allusion, some fourteen years. This I do +because the influence of this mysterious jewel, although it has +indelibly coloured my life, has been sensibly exercised during two +periods alone--periods short in themselves, but nevertheless long +enough to determine between them every current of my destiny, and to +supply an interpretation for my every action. + +I am the more concerned with advertising the reader of this, as on +looking back upon what I have written with an eye as far as may be +impartial, I have not failed to note one obvious criticism that will +be passed upon me. "How," it will be asked, "could any boy barely +eight years of age conceive the thoughts and entertain the emotions +there attributed to Jasper Trenoweth?" + +The criticism is just as well as obvious. As a solitary man for ever +brooding on the past, I will not deny that I may have been led to +paint that past in colours other than its own. Indeed, it would be +little short of a miracle were this not so. A morbid soul--and I +will admit that mine is morbid--preying upon its recollections, and +nourished on that food alone, cannot hope to attain the sense of +proportion which is the proper gift of varied experience. I readily +grant, therefore, that the lights and shades on this picture may be +wrong, as judged by the ordinary eye, but I do claim them to be a +faithful reproduction of my own vision. As I look back I find them +absolutely truthful, nor can I give the lie to my own impressions in +the endeavour to write what shall seem true to the rest of the world. + +This must be, therefore, my excuse for asking the reader to pass by +fourteen years and take up the tale far from Lantrig. But before I +plunge again into my story, it is right that I should briefly touch +on the chief events that occurred during this interval in my life. + +They buried my father and mother in the same grave in Polkimbra +Churchyard. I remember now that crowds of fisher-folk lined the way +to their last resting-place, and a host, as it seemed to me, of +tear-stained faces watched the coffins laid in the earth. But all +else is a blurred picture to me, as, indeed, is the time for many a +long day after. + +Colliver was never found. Captain Merrydew raised the hue and cry, +but the sailor Georgio Rhodojani was never seen again from the moment +when his evil face leered in through the window of Lantrig. A reward +was offered, and more than once Polkimbra was excited with the news +of his arrest, but it all came to nothing. Failing his capture, +Uncle Loveday was wisely silent on the subject of my father's Journal +and the secret of the Great Ruby. He had not been idle, however. +After long consultation with Aunt Elizabeth he posted off to Plymouth +to gain news of Lucy Railton and her daughter, but without success. +The "Welcome Home" still stood upon the Barbican, but the house was +in possession of new tenants, and neither they nor their landlord +could tell anything of the Railtons except that they had left +suddenly about two months before (that being the date of the wreck of +the _Belle Fortune_) after paying their rent to the end of the +Christmas quarter. The landlord could give no reasons for their +departure--for the house had a fair trade--but supposed that the +husband must have returned from sea and taken them away. +Uncle Loveday, of course, knew better, but on this point held his +peace. The one result of all his inquiries was the certainty that +the Railtons had vanished utterly. + +So Lantrig, for the preservation of which my father had given his +life, was sold to strangers, and I went to live with Aunt and Uncle +Loveday at Lizard Town. The proceeds of the sale (and they were +small indeed) Uncle Loveday put carefully by until such time as I +should be cast upon the world to seek my fortune. For twelve +uneventful years my aunt fed me, and uncle taught me--being no mean +scholar, especially in Latin, which tongue he took great pains to +make me perfect in. Thomas Loveday was my only companion, and soon +became my dear friend. Poor Tom! I can see his handsome face before +me now as it was in those old days--the dreamy eyes, the rare smile +with its faint suggestion of mockery, the fair curls in which a +breeze seemed for ever blowing, the pursed lips that had a habit of +saying such wonderful things. In my dreams--those few dreams of mine +that are happy--we are always boys together, climbing the cliffs for +eggs, or risking our lives in Uncle Loveday's boat--always boys +together. Poor Tom! Poor Tom! + +So the unmarked time rolled on, until there came a memorable day in +July on which I must touch for a moment. It was evening. I was +returning with Tom to Lizard Town from Dead Man's Rock, where we had +been basking all the sunny afternoon, Tom reading, and I simply +staring vacantly into the heavens and wondering when the time would +come that should set me free to unravel the mystery of this +ill-omened spot. Finally, after taking our fill of idleness, we +bathed as the sun was setting; and I remember wondering, as I dived +off the black ledge, whether beneath me there lay any relic of the +_Belle Fortune_, any fragment that might preserve some record of her +end. I had dived here often enough, but found nothing, nor could I +see anything to-day but the clean sand twinkling beneath its veil of +blue, though here, as I guessed, must still lie the bones of John +Railton. But I must hasten. We were returning over the Downs when +suddenly I spied a small figure running towards us, and making +frantic signals of distress. + +"That," said I, "from the shape of it, must be Joe Roscorla." + +And Joe Roscorla it was, only by no means the Joe Roscorla of +ordinary life, but a galvanised and gesticulating Joe, whereas the +Joe that we knew was of a lethargic bearing and slow habit of speech. +Still, it was he, and as he came up to us he stayed all questioning +by gasping out the word "Missus!" and then falling into a violent fit +of coughing. + +"Well, what is amiss?" asked Tom. + +"Took wi' a seizure, an' maister like a thing mazed," blurted Joe, +and then fell to panting and coughing worse than ever. + +"What! a seizure? paralysis do you mean?" I asked, while Tom turned +white. + +"Just a seizure, and I ha'n't got time for no longer name. But run +if 'ee want to see her alive." + +We ran without further speech, Joe keeping at our side for a minute, +but soon dropping behind and fading into distance. As we entered the +door Uncle Loveday met us, and I saw by his face that Aunt Elizabeth +was dead. + +She had been in the kitchen busied with our supper, when she suddenly +fell down and died in a few minutes. Heart disease was the cause, +but in our part people only die of three complaints--a seizure, an +inflammation, or a decline. The difference between these is purely +one of time, so that Joe Roscorla, learning the suddenness of the +attack, judged it forthwith a case of "seizure," and had so reported. + +My poor aunt was dead; and until now we had never known how we loved +her. Like so many of the Trenoweths she seemed hard and reserved to +many, but we who had lived with her had learnt the goodness of her +soul and the sincerity of her religion. The grief of her husband was +her noblest epitaph. + +He, poor man, was inconsolable. Without his wife he seemed as one +deprived of most of his limbs, and moved helplessly about, as though +life were now without purpose. Accustomed to be ruled by her at +every turn, he missed her in every action of the day. Very swiftly +he sank, of no assigned complaint, and within six months was laid +beside her. + +On his death-bed my uncle seemed strangely troubled about us. +Tom was to be a doctor. My destiny was not so certain; but already I +had renounced in my heart an inglorious life in Lizard Town. +I longed to go with Tom; in London, too, I thought I should be free +to follow the purpose of my life. But the question was, how should I +find the money? For I knew that the sum obtained by the sale of +Lantrig was miserably insufficient. So I sat with idle hands and +waited for destiny; nor did I realise my helplessness until I stood +in the room where Uncle Loveday lay dying. + +"Tom," said my uncle, "Tom, come closer." + +Tom bent over the bed. + +"I am leaving you two boys without friends in this world. You have +friends in Lizard Town, but Lizard Town is a small world, Tom. +I ought to have sent you to London before, but kept putting off the +parting. If one could only foresee--could only foresee." + +He raised himself slightly on his elbow, and continued with pain-- + +"You will go to Guy's, and Jasper, I hope, may go with you. +Be friends, boys; you will want friendship in this world. It will be +a struggle, for there is barely enough for both. But it is best to +share equally; _she_ would have wished that. She was always planning +that. I am doing it badly, I know, but she would have done it +better." + +The chill December sun came stealing in and illumined the sick man's +face with a light that was the shadow of heaven. The strange doctor +moved to the blind. My uncle's voice arrested him-- + +"No, no. Leave it up. You will have to pull it down very soon--only +a few moments now. Tom, come closer. You have been a good boy, Tom, +a good boy, though"--with a faint smile--"a little trying at times. +Ah, but she forgave you, Tom. She loved you dearly; she will tell me +so--when we meet." + +My uncle's gaze began to wander, as though anticipating that meeting; +but he roused himself and said-- + +"Kiss me, Tom, and send Jasper to me." + +Bitterly weeping, Tom made room, and I bent over the bed. + +"Ah, Jasper, it is you. Kiss me, boy. I have been telling Tom that +you must share alike. God has been stern with you, Jasper, to His +own good ends--His own good ends. Only be patient, it will come +right at the last. How dark it is getting; pull up the blind." + +"The blind is up, uncle." + +"Ah, yes, I forgot. I have often thought--do you remember that day-- +reading your father's paper--and the key?" + +"Yes, uncle." + +"I have often thought--about that key--which you flung into the +fire--and I picked out--your father Ezekiel's key--keep it. +Closer, Jasper, closer--" + +I bent down until my ear almost touched his lips. + +"I have--often--thought--we were wrong that night--and perhaps-- +meant--search--in . . ." + +For quite a minute I bent to catch the next word, then looking on his +face withdrew my arm and laid the grey head back upon the pillow. + +My uncle was dead. + + +So it happened that a few weeks after Tom and I, having found Uncle +Loveday's savings equally divided between us, started from Lizard +Town by coach to seek our fortunes in London. In London it is that I +must resume my tale. Of our early mishaps and misadventures I need +not speak, the result being discernible as the story progresses. +We did not find our fortunes, but we found some wisdom. Neither Tom +nor I ever confessed to disappointment at finding the pavements of +mere stone, but certainly two more absolute Whittingtons never trod +the streets of the great city. + +But before I resume I must say a few words of myself. No reader can +gather the true moral of this narrative who does not take into +account the effect which the cruel death of my parents had wrought on +me. From the day of the wreck hate had been my constant companion, +cherished and nursed in my heart until it held complete mastery over +all other passions. I lived, so I told myself over and over again, +but to avenge, to seek Simon Colliver high and low until I held him +at my mercy. Thousands of times I rehearsed the scene of our +meeting, and always I held the knife which stabbed my father. In my +waking thoughts, in my dreams, I was always pursuing, and Colliver +for ever fleeing before me. In every crowd I seemed to watch for his +face alone, at every street-corner to listen for his voice--that +face, that voice, which I should know among thousands. I had read +De Quincey's "Opium-Eater," and the picture of his unresting search +for his lost Ann somehow seized upon my imagination. Night after +night it was to Oxford Street that my devil drove me: night after +night I paced the "never-ending terraces," as did the opium-eater, on +my tireless quest--but with feelings how different! To me it was but +one long thirst of hatred, the long avenues of gaslight vistas of an +avenging hell, all the multitudinous sounds of life but the chorus of +that song to which my footsteps trod-- + + "Sing ho! but he waits for you." + +To London had Simon Colliver come, and somewhere, some day, he would +be mine. Until that day I sought a living face in a city of dead +men, and down that illimitable slope to Holborn, and back again, I +would tramp until the pavements were silent and deserted, then seek +my lodging and throw myself exhausted on the bed. + +In a dingy garret, looking out, when its grimy panes allowed, above +one of the many squalid streets that feed the main artery of the +Strand, my story begins anew. The furniture of the room relieves me +of the task of word-painting, being more effectively described by +catalogue, after the manner of the ships at Troy. It consisted of +two small beds, one rickety washstand, one wooden chair, and one tin +candlestick. At the present moment this last held a flickering dip, +for it was ten o'clock on the night of May the ninth, eighteen +hundred and sixty-three. On the chair sat Tom, turning excitedly the +leaves of a prodigiously imposing manuscript. I was sitting on the +edge of the bed nearest the candle, brooding on my hate as usual. + +Fortune had evidently dealt us some rough knocks. We were dressed, +as Tom put it, to suit the furniture, and did it to a nicety. +We were fed, according to the same authority, above our income; but +not often. I also quote Tom in saying that we were living rather +fast: we certainly saw no long prospect before us. In short, matters +had reached a crisis. + +Tom looked up from his reading. + +"Do you know, Jasper, I could wish that our wash-stand had not a +hole cut in it to receive the basin. It sounds hyper-critical. +But really it prejudices me in the eyes of the managers. There's a +suspicious bulge in the middle of the paper that is damning." + +I was absorbed in my own thoughts, and took no notice. Presently he +continued-- + +"Whittington is an overrated character, don't you think? After all +he owed his success to his name. It's a great thing for struggling +youth to have a three-syllabled name with a proparoxyton accent. +I've been listening to the bells to-night and they can make nothing +of Loveday, while as for Trenoweth, it's hopeless." + +As I still remained silent, Tom proceeded to announce-- + +"The House will now go into the Question of Supply." + +"The Exchequer," I reported, "contains exactly sixteen and eightpence +halfpenny." + +"Rent having been duly paid to-day and receipt given." + +"Receipt given," I echoed. + +"Really, when one comes to think of it, the situation is striking. +Here are you, Jasper Trenoweth, inheritor of the Great Ruby of +Ceylon, besides other treasure too paltry to mention, in danger of +starving in a garret. Here am I, Thomas Loveday, author of +'Francesca: a Tragedy,' and other masterpieces too numerous to +catalogue, with every prospect of sharing your fate. The situation +is striking, Jasper, you'll allow." + +"What did the manager say about it?" I asked. + +"Only just enough to show he had not looked at it. He was more +occupied with my appearance; and yet we agreed before I set out that +your trousers might have been made for me. They are the most +specious articles in our joint wardrobe: I thought to myself as +walked along to-day, Jasper, that after all it is not the coat that +makes the gentleman--it's the trousers. Now, in the matter of boots, +I surpass you. If yours decay at their present rate, your walks in +Oxford Street will become a luxury." + +I was silent again. + +"I do not recollect any case in fiction of a man being baulked of his +revenge for the want of a pair of boots. Cheer up, Jasper, boy," he +continued, rising and placing a hand on my shoulder. "We have been +fools, and have paid for it. You thought you could find your enemy +in London, and find the hiding-place too big. I thought I could +write, and find I cannot. As for legitimate work, sixteen and +eightpence halfpenny, even with economy, will hardly carry us on for +three years." + +I rose. "I will have one more walk in Oxford Street," I said, +"and then come home and see this miserable farce of starvation out." + +"Don't be a fool, Jasper. It is difficult, I know, to perish with +dignity on sixteen and eightpence halfpenny: the odd coppers spoil +the effect. Still we might bestow them on a less squeamish beggar +and redeem our pride." + +"Tom," I said, suddenly, "you lost a lot of money once over +_rouge-et-noir_." + +"Don't remind me of that, Jasper." + +"No, no; but where did you lose it?" + +"At a gambling hell off Leicester Square. But why--" + +"Should you know the place again? Could you find it?" + +"Easily." + +"Then let us go and try our luck with this miserable sum." + +"Don't be a fool, Jasper. What mad notion has taken you now?" + +"I have never gambled in my life," I answered, "and may as well have +a little excitement before the end comes. It's not much of a sum, as +you say; but the thought that we are playing for life or death may +make up for that. Let us start at once." + +"It is the maddest folly." + +"Very well, Tom, we will share this. There may be some little +difficulty over the halfpenny, but I don't mind throwing that in. +We will take half each, and you can hoard whilst I tempt fortune." + +"Jasper," said Tom, his eyes filling with tears, "you have said a +hard thing, but I know you don't mean it. If you are absolutely set +on this silly freak, we will stand or fall together." + +"Very well," said I, "we will stand or fall together, for I am +perfectly serious. The six and eightpence halfpenny, no more and no +less, I propose to spend in supper. After that we shall be better +prepared to face our chance. Do you agree?" + +"I agree," said Tom, sadly. + +We took our hats, extinguished the candle, and stumbled down the +stairs into the night. + +We ordered supper at an eating-house in the Strand, and in all my +life I cannot recall a merrier meal than this, which, for all we +knew, would be our last. The very thought lent a touch of bravado to +my humour, and presently Tom caught the infection. It was not a +sumptuous meal in itself, but princely to our ordinary fare; and the +unaccustomed taste of beer loosened our tongues, until our mirth +fairly astonished our fellow-diners. At length the waiter came with +the news that it was time for closing. Tom called for the bill, and +finding that it came to half-a-crown apiece, ordered two sixpenny +cigars, and tossed the odd eightpence halfpenny to the waiter, +announcing at the same time that this was our last meal on earth. +This done, he gravely handed me four half-crowns, and rose to leave. +I rose also, and once more we stepped into the night. + +Since the days of which I write, Leicester Square has greatly +changed. Then it was an intricate, and, by night, even a dangerous +quarter, chiefly given over to foreigners. As we trudged through +innumerable by-streets and squalid alleys, I wondered if Tom had +not forgotten his way. At length, however, we turned up a blind +alley, lit by one struggling gas-jet, and knocked at a low door. +It was opened almost immediately, and we groped our way up another +black passage to a second door. Here Tom gave three knocks very loud +and distinct. A voice cried, "Open," the door swung back before us, +and a blaze of light flashed in our faces. + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +TELLS OF THE LUCK OF THE GOLDEN CLASP. + +As the door swung back I became conscious first of a flood of light +that completely dazzled my eyes, next of the buzz of many voices that +confused my hearing. By slow degrees, however, the noise and glare +grew familiar and my senses were able to take in the strange scene. + +I stood in a large room furnished after the fashion of a +drawing-room, and resplendent with candles and gilding. The carpet +was rich, the walls were hung with pictures, which if garish in +colour were not tasteless in design, and between these glittered a +quantity of gilded mirrors that caught and reflected the rays of a +huge candelabrum depending from the centre of the ceiling. +Innumerable wax candles also shone in various parts of the room, +while here and there rich chairs and sofas were disposed; but these +were for the most part unoccupied, for the guests were clustered +together beneath the great candelabrum. + +They were about thirty in number, and from their appearance I judged +them to belong to very different classes of society. Some were +poorly and even miserably attired, others adorned with gorgeous, and +not a few with valuable, jewellery. Here stood one who from his +clothes seemed to be a poor artisan; there lounged a fop in evening +dress. There was also a sprinkling of women, and not a few wore +masks of some black stuff concealing the upper part of their faces. + +But the strangest feature of the company was that one and all were +entirely and even breathlessly watching the table in their midst. +Even the idlest scarcely raised his eyes to greet us as we entered, +and for a moment or two I paused at the door as one who had no +business with this strange assemblage. During these few moments I +was able to grasp the main points of what I saw. + +The guests were grouped around the table, some sitting and others +standing behind their chairs. The table itself was oblong in shape, +and at its head sat the most extraordinary woman it had ever been my +lot to behold. She was of immense age, and so wrinkled that her face +seemed a very network of deeply-printed lines. Her complexion, even +in the candle-light, was of a deep yellow, such as is rarely seen in +the most jaundiced faces. Despite her age, her features were bold +and bore traces of a rare beauty outlived; her eyes were of a deep +yet glittering black, and as they flashed from the table to the faces +of her guests, seemed never to wink or change for an instant their +look of intense alertness. + +But what was most noteworthy in this strange woman was neither her +eyes, her wrinkles, nor her curious colour, but the amazing quantity +of jewels that she wore. As she sat there beneath the glare of the +candelabrum she positively blazed with gems. With every motion of +her quick hands a hundred points of fire leapt out from the diamonds +on her fingers; with every turn of her wrinkled neck the light played +upon innumerable facets; and all the time those cold, lustrous eyes +scintillated as brightly as the stones. She was engaged in the game +as we entered, and turned her gaze upon us for an instant only, but +that momentary flash was so cold, so absolutely un-human, that I +doubted if I looked upon reality. The whole assembly seemed rather +like a room full of condemned spirits, with this woman sitting as +presiding judge. + +As we still stood by the door a hush fell on the company; men and +women seemed to catch their breath and bend more intently over the +table. There was a pause; then someone called the number +"Thirty-one," and the buzz of voices broke out again--a mixture of +exclamations and disappointed murmurs. Then, and not till then, did +the woman at the head of the table speak, and when she spoke her +words were addressed to us. + +"Come in, gentlemen, come in. You have not chosen your moment well, +for the Bank is winning; but you are none the less welcome." + +Her eyes as she turned them again upon us did not alter their +expression. They were--though I can scarcely hope that this +description will be understood--at once perfectly vigilant and +absolutely impassive. But even more amazing was the voice that +contradicted both these impressions, being most sweetly and +delicately modulated, with a musical ring that charmed the ear as the +notes of a well-sung song. The others, hearing us addressed, turned +an incurious gaze upon us for a moment, and then fastened their +attention anew upon the table. + +Thus welcomed, we too stepped forward to the centre of the room and +began to watch the game. I have never seen roulette played +elsewhere, so do not know if its accessories greatly vary, but this +is what I saw. + +The table, which I have described as oblong, was lined to the width +of about a foot around the edge with green baize, and on this were +piled heaps of gold and silver, some greater, some less. Sunk in the +centre was a well, in which a large needle revolved upon a pivot at a +turn of the hand. The whole looked like a large ship's compass, but +instead of north, south, east, and west, the table around the well, +and at a level with the compass, was marked out into alternate spaces +of red and black, bearing--one on each space--the figures from 1 to +36, and ending in 0, so that in all there were thirty-seven spaces, +the one bearing the cipher being opposite to the strange woman who +presided. As the game began again the players staked their money on +one or another of these spaces. I also gathered that they could +stake on either black or red, or again on one of the three dozens-- +1 to 12, 13 to 24, 25 to 36. When all the money was staked, the +woman bent forward, and with a sweep of her arm sent the needle +spinning round upon its mission. + +Thrice she did this, thrice the eager faces bent over the revolving +needle, and each time I gathered from the murmurs around me that the +bank had won heavily. At the end of the third round the hostess +looked up and said to Loveday-- + +"You have been here before, and, if I remember rightly, were +unfortunate. Come and sit near me when you have a chance, and +perhaps you may break this run of luck. Even I am tiring of it. +Or better still, get that dark handsome friend of yours to stake for +you. Have you ever played before?" she asked, turning to me. + +I shook my head. + +"All the better. Fortune always favours beginners, and if it does I +shall be well recompensed to have so handsome a youth beside me," and +with this she turned to the game again. + +At her right sat a grey-headed man with worn face and wolfish eyes, +who might have been expected to take this as a hint to make way. +But he never heard a word. All his sense was concentrated on the +board before him, and his only motion was to bend more closely and +eagerly over the play. Tom whispered in my ear-- + +"You have the money, Jasper; take her advice if you really mean to +play this farce out. Take the seat if you get a chance, and play +your own game." + +"You have been here before," I answered, "and know more about the +game." + +"Here before! Yes, to my cost. No, no, the idea of play is your own +and you shall carry it out. I am always unlucky, and as for +knowledge of the game, you can pick that up by watching a round or +two; it's perfectly simple." + +Again the bank had won. At the left hand of our hostess stood a +stolid man holding a small shovel with which he gathered in the +winnings. All around were faces as of souls in torture; even the +features of the winners (and these were few enough) scarcely +expressed a trace of satisfaction, but seemed rather cast into some +horrible trance in which they saw nothing but the piles of coin, the +spinning needle, and the flashing hands of the woman that turned it. +She all the while sat passionless and cold, looking on the scene as +might some glittering and bejewelled sphinx. + +As I gazed, as the needle whirled and stopped and once more whirled, +the mad excitement of the place came creeping upon me. The +glittering fingers of our hostess fascinated me as a serpent holds +its prey. The stifling heat, the glare, the confused murmurs mounted +like strong wine into my brain. The clink and gleam of the gold as +it passed to and fro, the harsh voice of the man with the shovel +calling at intervals, "Put on your money, gentlemen," the mechanical +progress of the play, confused and staggered my senses. I forgot +Tom, forgot the reason of our coming, forgot even where I was, so +absorbed was I, and craned forward over the hurrying wheel, as intent +as the veriest gambler present. + +I was aroused from my stupor by a muttered curse, as the grey-headed +man before me staggered up from his chair, and left the table with +desperate eyes and stupid gait. As he rose the jewelled fingers made +a slight motion, and I dropped into the vacant seat. + +The bank was still winning. At our hostess' left hand rose a +swelling pile of gold and silver that time after time absorbed all +the smaller heaps upon the black and red spaces. Meanwhile the woman +had scarcely spoken, but as the needle went round once more, +slackened and stopped--this time amid deep and desperate +execrations--she turned to me and said-- + +"Now is your time to break the bank if you wish. Play boldly; I +should like to lose to so proper a man." + +I looked back at Tom, who merely nodded, and put my first half-crown +upon the red space marked 19. My neighbour, without seeming to +notice the smallness of the sum, bent over the table and sent the +wheel spinning on its errand. I, too, bent forward to watch, and as +the wheel halted, saw the coin swept, with many more valuable, into +the great pile. + +"A bad beginning," said the sweet voice beside me. "Try again." + +I tried again, and a third time, and two more half-crowns went to +join their fellow. + +There was one more chance. White with desperation I drew out my last +half-crown, and laid it on the black. A flash, and my neighbour's +hand sent the needle whirling. Round and round it went, as though it +would never cease; round and round, then slackened, slackened, +hesitated and stopped--where? + +Where but over the red square opposite me? + +For a moment all things seemed to whirl and dance before me. +The candles shot out a million glancing rays, the table heaved, the +rings upon the woman's fingers glittered and sparkled, while opposite +me the devilish finger of Fortune pointed at the ruin of my hopes, +and as it pointed past them and at me, called me very fool. + +I clutched the table's green border and sank back in my seat. +As I did so I heard a low curse from Tom behind me. The overwhelming +truth broke in upon my senses, chasing the blood from my face, the +hope from my heart. Ruined! Ruined! The faces around me grew +blurred and misty, the room and all my surrounding seemed to fade +further and yet further away, leaving me face to face with the +consequences of my folly. Scarce knowing what I did, I turned to +look at Tom, and saw that his face was white and set. As I did so +the musical voice beside me murmured-- + +"The game is waiting: are you going to stake this time?" + +I stammered out a negative. + +"What? already tired? A faint heart should not go with such a face," +and again she swept the pointer round. + +"Is it," she whispered in my ear, "is it that you cannot?" + +"It is." + +"Ah, it is hard with half-a-sovereign to break the bank. But see, +have you nothing--nothing? For I feel as if my luck were going to +leave me." + +"Nothing," I answered, "nothing in the world." + +"Poor boy!" + +Her voice was tender and sympathetic, but in her eyes there glanced +not the faintest spark of mercy. I sat for a moment stunned and +helpless, and then she resumed. + +"Can I lend to you?" + +"No, for I have no chance of repaying. This was my all, and it has +gone. I have not one penny left in the world." + +"Poor boy!" + +"I thank you. I could not expect you to pity me, but--" + +"Ah, but you are wrong. I pity you: I pity you all. Fools, fools, I +call you all, and yet I make my living out of you. So you cannot +play," she added, as she set the game going once again. "What will +you do?" + +"Go, first of all." + +"And after?" + +I shrugged my shoulders. + +"No, do not go yet. Sit beside me for a while and watch: it is only +Fortune that makes me your enemy. I would willingly have lost to +you." + +She looked so curious, sitting there with her yellow face, her +wrinkles and her innumerable diamonds, that I could only sit and +stare. + +"I have seen many a desperate boy," continued this extraordinary +woman, "sitting beside me in that very chair. Ah, many a young life +have I murdered in this way. I am old, you see, very old; older even +than you could guess, but I triumph over youth none the less. +Sometimes I feel as if I fed on the young lives of others." + +She delivered these confidences without a change in her emotionless +face, and still I stared fascinated. + +"Ah, yes, they sit here for a moment, and then they go--who knows +where? You will be going presently, and then I shall lose you for +ever, without a thought of what happens to you. Money is my blood: +you see its colour in my face. Here they all come, and I suck their +blood and fling them aside. They win sometimes; but I can wait. +I wait and wait, and they come back here as surely as there is a +destiny. They come back, and I win in the end. I always win in the +end." + +She turned her attention to the game for a moment and then went on:-- + +"It is a rare drink, this yellow blood: and all the sweeter when it +comes from youth. I have had but a drop from you, but I like you +nevertheless. Oh, yes, I can pity, my heart is always full of pity +as I sit here drinking gold. Your friend is a charming boy, but I +like you better: and now you will go. These partings are very cruel, +are they not?" + +There was not a trace of mockery in her voice, and her eyes were the +same as ever. I merely looked up in reply, but she divined my +thoughts. + +"No, I am not mocking you. I should like you to win--once: I say it, +and am perfectly honest about it. You would be beaten in the end, +but it would please me while it lasted. Has your friend no money?" + +"No, this was all we had between us." + +"So he came back and got you to play with your money. That was +strange friendship." + +"You are wrong," I answered, "he was set against coming; but I +persuaded him--or rather, I insisted. It is all my own fault." + +"Well," she said, musingly, "I suppose you must, go; but it is a +pity. You are too handsome a boy to--to do what you will probably +do: but the game does not regard good looks, or it would fare badly +with me. Good-bye." + +Still there was no shadow of pity in those unfathomable eyes. +I looked into them for a moment, but their shining jet revealed +nothing below the surface--nothing but inexorable calm. + +"Good-bye," I said, and rose to go, for Tom's hand was already on my +shoulder. I dared not look in his face. All hope was gone now, all +wealth, all--Stay! I put my fingers in my waistcoat-pocket and drew +out the Golden Clasp. Worthless to me as any sign of the +hiding-place of the Great Ruby, it might yet be worth something as +metal. I had carried it ever since the day when Uncle Loveday and I +read my father's Journal. But what did it matter now? In a few +hours I should be beyond the hope of treasure. Might I not just as +well fling this accursed clasp after the rest? For aught I knew it +might yet win something back to me--that is, if anyone would accept +it as money. At least I would try. + +I sank back into my chair again. The woman turned her eyes upon me +carelessly, and said-- + +"What, back again so soon?" + +"Yes," said I, somewhat taken aback by her coldness, "if you will +give me another chance." + +"I give nothing, least of all chance," she replied. + +"Well, can you tell me if this is worth anything?" + +As I said this I held out the clasp, which flashed brightly as it +caught the rays of the large candelabrum overhead. She turned her +eyes upon it, and as she did so, for the first time I fancied I +caught a gleam of interest within them. It was but a gleam, however, +and died out instantly as she said-- + +"Let me look at it." + +I handed it to her. She bent over it for a moment, then turned to me +and asked-- + +"Is this all of it? I mean that it seems only one half of a clasp. +Have you not the other part?" + +I shook my head, and she continued-- + +"It is beautifully worked, and seems valuable. Do you wish me to buy +it?" + +"Not exactly that," I explained; "but if you think it worth anything +I should like to stake it against an equivalent." + +"Very well; it might be worth three pounds--perhaps more: but you can +stake it for that if you will. Shall it be all at once?" + +"Yes, let me have it over at once," I said, and placed it on the red +square marked 13. + +She nodded, and bending over the table, set the pointer on its round. + +This time I felt quite calm and cool. All the intoxication of play +had gone from me and left my nerves steady as iron. As the needle +swung round I scarcely looked at it, but fell to watching the faces +of my fellow-gamblers with idle interest. This stake would decide +between life and death for me, but I did not feel it. My passion had +fallen upon an anti-climax, and I was even yawning when the murmur of +many voices, and a small pile of gold and silver at my side, +announced that I had won. + +"So the luck was changed at last," said the woman. "Be brave whilst +it is with you." + +In answer I again placed the clasp upon the number 13. + +Once more I won, and this time heavily. Tom laid his hand upon my +shoulder and said, "Let us go," but I shook my head and went on. + +Time after time I won now, until the pile beside me became immense. +Again and again Tom whispered in my ear that we had won enough and +that luck would change shortly, but I held on. And now the others +surrounded me in a small crowd and began to stake on the numbers I +chose. Put the clasp where I would the needle stopped in front of +it. They brought a magnet to see if this curious piece of metal had +any power of attraction, but our hostess only laughed and assured +them at any rate there was no steel in the pointer, as (she added) +some of them ought to know by this time. When eight times I had put +the buckle down and eight times had found a fresh heap of coin at my +side, she turned to me and said-- + +"You play bravely, young man. What is your name?" + +"Jasper Trenoweth." + +Again I fancied I caught the gleam in her eyes; and this time it +even seemed as though her teeth shut tight as she heard the words. +But she simply laughed a tranquil laugh and said-- + +"A queer-sounding name, that Trenoweth. Is it a lucky one?" + +"Never, until now," said I. + +"Well, play on. It does my heart good, this fight between us. +But you are careful, I see; why don't you stake your pile as well +while this wonderful run lasts?" + +Again Tom's hand was laid upon my shoulder, and this time his voice +was urgent. But I was completely deaf. + +"As you please," said I, coldly, and laid the whole pile down upon +the black. + +It was madness. It was worse than madness. But I won again; and now +the heap of my winnings was enormous. I glanced at the strange +woman; she sat as impassive as ever. + +"Play," said she. + +Thrice more I won, and now the pile beside her had to be replenished. +Yet she moved not a muscle of her face, not a lash of her mysterious +eyes. + +At last, sick of success, I turned and said-- + +"I have had enough of this. Will it satisfy you if I stake it all +once more?" + +Again she laughed. "You are brave, Mr. Trenoweth, and indeed worth +the fighting. You may win to-night, but I shall win in the end. +I told you that I would readily lose to you, and so I will; but you +take me at my word with a vengeance. Still, I should like to possess +that clasp of yours, so let it be once more." + +I laid the whole of my winnings on the red. By this time all the +guests had gathered round to see the issue of this conflict. Not a +soul put any money on this turn of the wheel, so engrossed were they +in the duel. Every face was white with excitement, every lip +quivered. Only we, the combatants, sat unmoved--I and the strange +woman with the unfathomable eyes. + +"Red stands for many things," said she, as she lightly twirled the +needle round, "blood and rubies and lovers' lips. But black is the +livery of Death, and Death shall win them all in the end." + +As the pointer of fortune circled on its last errand, I could catch +the stifled breath of the crowd about me, so deep was the hush that +fell upon us all. I felt Tom's hand tighten its clutch upon my +shoulder. I heard, or fancied I heard, the heart of the man upon my +right thump against his ribs. I could feel my own pulse beating all +the while with steady and regular stroke. Somehow I knew that I +should win, and somehow it flashed upon me that she knew it too. +Even as the idea came darting across my brain, a multitude of pent-up +cries broke forth from thirty pairs of white lips. I scarcely looked +to see the cause, but as I turned to our hostess her eyes looked +straight into mine and her sweet voice rose above the din-- + +"Gentlemen, we have played enough to-night. The game is over." + +I had broken the bank. + + +I stood with Tom gathering up my winnings as the crowd slowly melted +from the room, and as I did so, cast a glance at the woman whom I had +thus defeated. She was leaning back in her chair, apparently +indifferent to her losses as to her gains. Only her eyes were +steadily fixed upon me as I shovelled the coin into my pockets. +As she caught my eye she pulled out a scrap of paper and a pencil, +scribbled a few words, tossed the note to the man with the shovel, +who instantly left the room, and said-- + +"Is it far from this place to your home?" + +"Not very." + +"That's well; but be careful. To win such a sum is only less +dangerous than to lose it. I shall see you again--you and your +talisman. By the way, may I look at it for a moment?" + +We were alone in the room, we three. She took the clasp, looked at +it intently for a full minute, and then returned it. Already the +dawn of another day was peering in through the chinks in the blinds, +giving a ghastly faintness to the expiring candles, throwing a grey +and sickening reality over the scene--the disordered chairs, the +floor strewn with scraps of paper, the signs and relics of the +debauchery of play. Ghastlier than all was the yellow face of the +woman in the pitiless light. But there she sat, seemingly untired, +in all the splendour of her flashing gems, as we left her--a very +goddess of the gaming-table. + +We had reached the door and were stepping into the darkness of the +outer passage, when Tom whispered-- + +"Be on your guard; that note meant mischief." + +I nodded, swung open the door, and stepped out into the darkness. +Even as I did so, I heard one quick step at my left side, saw a faint +gleam, and felt myself violently struck upon the chest. For a moment +I staggered back, and then heard Tom rush past me and deal one +crashing blow. + +"Run, run! Down the passage, quick!" + +In an instant we were tearing through the black darkness to the outer +door, but in that instant I could see, through the open door behind, +in the glare of all the candles, the figure of the yellow woman still +sitting motionless and calm. + +We gained the door, and plunged into the bright daylight. Up the +alley we tore, out into the street, across it and down another, then +through a perfect maze of by-lanes. Tom led and I followed behind, +panting and clutching my bursting pockets lest the coin should tumble +out. Still we tore on, although not a footstep followed us, nor had +we seen a soul since Tom struck my assailant down. Spent and +breathless at last we emerged upon the Strand, and here Tom pulled +up. + +"The streets are wonderfully quiet," said he. + +I thought for a moment and then said, "It is Sunday morning." + +Scarcely were the words out of my mouth when I heard something ring +upon the pavement beside me. I stooped, and picked up--the Golden +Clasp. + +"Well," said I, "this is strange." + +"Not at all," said Tom. "Look at your breast-pocket." + +I looked and saw a short slit across my breast just above the heart. +As I put my hand up, a sovereign, and then another, rolled clinking +on to the pavement. + +Tom picked them up, and handing them to me, remarked-- + +"Jasper, you may thank Heaven to-day, if you are in a mood for it. +You have had a narrow escape." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Why, that you would be a dead man now had you not carried that piece +of metal in your breast-pocket. Let me see it for a moment." + +We looked at it together, and there surely enough, almost in the +centre of the clasp, was a deep dent. We were silent for a minute or +so, and then Tom said-- + +"Let us get home. It would not do for us to be seen with this money +about us." + +We crossed the Strand, and turned off it to the door of our lodgings. +There I stopped. + +"Tom, I am not coming in. I shall take a long walk and a bathe to +get this fearful night out of my head. You can take the money +upstairs, and put it away somewhere in hiding. Stay, I will keep a +coin or two. Take the rest with you." + +Tom looked up at the gleam of sunshine that touched the chimney-pots +above, and decided. + +"Well, for my part, I am going to bed; and so will you if you are +wise." + +"No. I will be back this evening, so let the fatted calf be +prepared. I must get out of this for a while." + +"Where are you going?" + +"Oh, anywhere. I don't care. Up the river, perhaps." + +"You don't wish me to go with you?" + +"No, I had rather be alone. Tom, I have been a fool. I led you into +a hole whence nothing but a marvellous chance has delivered us, and I +owe you an apology. And--Tom, I also owe you my life." + +"Not to me, Jasper; to the Clasp." + +"To you," I insisted. "Tom, I have been a thoughtless fool, and-- +Tom, that was a splendid blow of yours." + +He laughed, and ran upstairs, while I turned and gloomily sauntered +down the deserted street. + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +TELLS AN OLD STORY IN THE TRADITIONAL MANNER. + +When Tom asked me where I was going, I had suggested an excursion up +the river; though, to tell the truth, this answer had come with the +question. Be that as it may, the afternoon of that same Sunday found +me on the left bank of the Thames between Streatley and Pangbourne; +found me, with my boat moored idly by, stretched on my back amid the +undergrowth, and easefully staring upward through a trellis-work of +branches into the heavens. I had been lying there a full hour +wondering vaguely of my last night's adventure, listening to the +spring-time chorus of the birds, lazily and listlessly watching a +bough that bent and waved its fan of foliage across my face, or the +twinkle of the tireless kingfisher flashing down-stream in loops of +light, when a blackbird lit on a branch hard by my left hand, and, +all unconscious of an audience, began to pour forth his rapture to +the day. + +Lying there I could spy his black body and yellow bill, and drink in +his song with dreamy content. So sweetly and delicately was he +fluting, that by degrees slumber crept gently and unperceived upon my +tired brain; and as the health-giving distillation of the melody +stole upon my parched senses, I fell into a deep sleep. + + +What was that? Music? Yes, but not the song of my friend the +black-bird, not the mellow note that had wooed me to slumber and +haunted my dreams. Music? Yes, but the voice was human, and the +song articulate. I started, and rose upon my elbow to listen. +The voice was human beyond a doubt--sweetly human: it was that of a +girl singing. But where? I looked around and saw nobody. Yet the +singer could not be far off, for the words, though softly and gently +sung, dwelt clearly and distinctly upon my ear. Still half asleep, I +sank back again and listened. + + "Flower of the May, + Saw ye one pass? + 'Love passed to-day + While the dawn was, + O, but the eyes of him shone as a glass.'" + +The low, delicate notes came tremulous through the thicket. +The blackbird was hushed, the trees overhead swayed soundlessly, and +when the voice fell and paused, so deep was the silence that +involuntarily I held my breath and waited. Presently it broke out +again-- + + "Bird of the thorn, + What his attire? + 'Lo! it was torn, + Marred with the mire, + And but the eyes of him sparkled with fire.'" + +Again the voice died away in soft cadences, and again all was +silence. I rose once more upon my elbow, and gazed into the green +depths of the wood; but saw only the blackbird perched upon a twig +and listening with head askew. + + "Flower of the May, + Bird of the--" + +The voice quivered, trailed off and stopped. I heard a rustling of +leaves to the right, and then the same voice broke out in prose, in +very agitated and piteous prose--"Oh, my boat! my boat! What shall I +do?" + +I jumped to my feet, caught a glimpse of something white, and of +two startled but appealing eyes, then tore down to the bank. +There, already twenty yards downstream, placidly floated the boat, +its painter trailing from the bows, and its whole behaviour pointing +to a leisurely but firm resolve to visit Pangbourne. + +My own boat was close at hand. But when did hot youth behave with +thought in a like case? I did as ninety-nine in a hundred would do. +I took off my coat, kicked off my shoes, and as the voice cried, +"Oh, please, do not trouble," plunged into the water. The refractory +boat, once on its way, was in no great hurry, and allowed itself to +be overtaken with great good-humour. I clambered in over the stern, +caught up the sculls which lay across the thwarts, and, dripping but +triumphant, brought my captive back to shore. + +"How can I thank you?" + +If my face was red as I looked up, it must be remembered that I had +to stoop to make the boat fast. If my eyes had a tendency to look +down again, it must be borne in mind that the water from my hair was +dripping into them. They gazed for a moment, however, and this was +what they saw:-- + +At first only another pair of eyes, of dark grey eyes twinkling with +a touch of merriment, though full at the same time of honest +gratitude. It was some time before I clearly understood that these +eyes belonged to a face, and that face the fairest that ever looked +on a summer day. First, as my gaze dropped before that vision of +radiant beauty, it saw only an exquisite figure draped in a dress of +some white and filmy stuff, and swathed around the shoulders with a +downy shawl, white also, across which fell one ravishing lock of +waving brown, shining golden in the kiss of the now drooping sun. +Then the gaze fell lower, lighted upon a little foot thrust slightly +forward for steadiness on the bank's verge, and there rested. + +So we stood facing one another--Hero and Leander, save that Leander +found the effects of his bath more discomposing than the poets give +any hint of. So we stood, she smiling and I dripping, while the +blackbird, robbed of the song's ending, took up his own tale anew, +and, being now on his mettle, tried a few variations. So, for all +power I had of speech, might we have stood until to-day had not the +voice repeated-- + +"How can I thank you?" + +I looked up. Yes, she was beautiful, past all criticism--not tall, +but in pose and figure queenly beyond words. Under the brim of her +straw hat the waving hair fell loosely, but not so loosely as to hide +the broad brow arching over lashes of deepest brown. Into the eyes I +dared not look again, but the lips were full and curling with humour, +the chin delicately poised over the most perfect of necks. In her +right hand she held a carelessly-plucked creeper that strayed down +the white of her dress and drooped over the high firm instep. And so +my gaze dropped to earth again. Pity me. I had scarcely spoken to +woman before, never to beauty. Tongue-tied and dripping I stood +there, yet was half inclined to run away. + +"And yet, why did you make yourself so wet? Have you no boat? +Is not that your boat lying there under the bank?" There was an +amused tremor in the speech. + +Somehow I felt absurdly guilty. She must have mistaken my glance, +for she went on:--"Is it that you wish--?" and began to search in the +pocket of her gown. + +"No, no," I cried, "not that." + +I had forgotten the raggedness of my clothes, now hideously +emphasised by my bath. Of course she took me for a beggar. Why not? +I looked like one. But as the thought flashed upon me it brought +unutterable humiliation. She must have divined something of the +agony in my eyes, for a tiny hand was suddenly laid on my arm and the +voice said-- + +"Please, forgive me; I was stupid, and am so sorry." + +Forgive her? I looked up for an instant and now her lids drooped in +their turn. There was a silence between us for a moment or two, +broken only by the blackbird, by this time entangled in a maze of +difficult variations. Presently she glanced up again, and the grey +eyes were now chastely merry. + +"But it was odd to swim when your boat was close at hand, was it +not?" + +I looked, faltered, met her honest glance, and we both broke out into +shy laughter. A mad desire to seize the little hand that for a +moment had rested on my arm caught hold of me. + +"Yes, it was odd," I answered slowly and with difficulty; "but it +seemed--the only thing to do at the time." + +She laughed a low laugh again. + +"Do you generally behave like that?" + +"I don't know." + +There was a pause and then I added-- + +"You see, you took me by surprise." + +"Where were you when I first called?" she asked. + +"Lying in the grass close by." + +"Then"--with a vivid blush--"you must have--" + +"Heard you singing? Yes." + +"Oh!" + +Again there was a pause, and this time the blackbird executed an +elaborate exercise with much delicacy and finish. The brown lashes +drooped, the lovely eyes were bent on the grass, and the little hand +swung the creeper nervously backward and forward. + +"Why did you not warn me that I had an audience?" + +"Because, in the first place, I was too late. When you began I +was--" + +"What?" she asked as I hesitated. + +"Asleep." + +"And I disturbed you. I am so sorry." + +"I am not." + +I was growing bolder as she became more embarrassed. I looked down +upon her now from my superior height, and my heart went out to +worship the grace of God's handiwork. With a touch of resentment she +drew herself up, held out her hand, and said somewhat proudly-- + +"I thank you, sir, for this service." + +I took the hand, but not the hint. It was an infinitesimal hand as +it lay in my big brown one, and yet it stung my frame as with some +delicious and electric shock. My heart beat wildly and my eyes +remained fixed upon hers. + +The colour on the fair face deepened a shade: the little chin was +raised a full inch, and the voice became perceptibly icy. + +"I must go, sir. I hope I have thanked you as far as I can, and--" + +"And what?" + +"Forgive me that I was about to offer you money." + +The hat's brim bent now, but under it I could see the honest eyes +full of pain. + +"Forgive you!" I cried. "Who am I to forgive you? You were right: +I am no better than a beggar." + +The red lips quivered and broke into a smile; a tiny dimple appeared, +vanished and reappeared; the hat's brim nodded again, and then the +eyes sparkled into laughter-- + +"A sturdy beggar, at any rate." + +It was the poorest little joke, but love is not exacting of wit. +Again we both laughed, but this time with more relief, and yet the +embarrassment that followed was greater. + +"Must you go?" I asked as I bent down to pull the boat in. + +"I really must," she answered shyly; and then as she pulled out a +tiny watch at her waist--"Oh! I am late--so late. I shall keep +mother waiting and make her lose the train. What shall I do? +Oh, pray, sir, be quick!" + +A mad hope coursed through me; I pointed to the boat and said-- + +"I have made it so wet. If you are late, better let me row you. +Where are you going?" + +"To Streatley; but I cannot--" + +"I also am going to Streatley. Please let me row you: I will not +speak if you wish it." + +Over her face, now so beautifully agitated, swept the rarest of +blushes. "Oh no, it is not that, but I can manage quite well"--her +manner gave the lie to her brave words--"and I shall not mind the +wet." + +"If I have not offended you, let me row." + +"No, no." + +"Then I have offended." + +"Please do not think so." + +"I shall if you will not let me row." + +Before my persistency she wavered and was conquered. "But my boat?" +she said. + +"I will tow it behind"--and in the glad success of my hopes I allowed +her no time for further parley, but ran off for my own boat, tied the +two together, and gently helped her to her seat. Was ever moment so +sweet? Did ever little palm rest in more eager hand than hers in +mine during that one heavenly moment? Did ever heart beat so +tumultuously as mine, as I pushed the boat from under the boughs and +began to row? + +Somehow, as we floated up the still river, a hush fell upon us. +She was idly trailing her hand in the stream and watching the ripple +as it broke and sparkled through her fingers. Her long lashes +drooped down upon her cheek and veiled her eyes, whilst I sat +drinking in her beauty and afraid by a word to break the spell. + +Presently she glanced up, met my burning eyes, and looked down +abashed. + +"Forgive me, I could not help it." + +She tried to meet the meaning of that sentence with a steady look, +but broke down, and as the warm blood surged across her face, bent +her eyes to the water again. For myself, I knew of nothing to say in +extenuation of my speech. My lips would have cried her mercy, but no +words came. I fell to rowing harder, and the silence that fell upon +us was unbroken. The sun sank and suddenly the earth grew cold and +grey, the piping of the birds died wholly out, the water-flags +shivered and whispered before the footsteps of night. Slowly, very +slowly the twilight hung its curtains around us. Swiftly, too +swiftly the quiet village drew near, but my thoughts were neither of +the village nor the night. As I sat and pulled silently upwards, +life was entirely changing for me. Old thoughts, old passions, old +aims and musings slipped from me and swept off my soul as the +darkening river swept down into further night. + +"Streatley! So soon! We are in time, then." + +Humbly my heart thanked her for those words, "So soon." I gave her +my hand to help her ashore, and, as I did so, said-- + +"You will forgive me?" + +"For getting wet in my service? What is there to forgive?" + +Oh, cruelly kind! The moon was up now and threw its full radiance on +her face as she turned to go. My eyes were speaking imploringly, but +she persisted in ignoring their appeal. + +"You often come here?" + +"Oh, no! Sunday is my holiday; I am not so idle always. But mother +loves to come here on Sundays. Ah, how I have neglected her to-day!" +There was a world of self-reproach in her speech, and again she would +have withdrawn her hand and gone. + +"One moment," said I, hoarsely. "Will you--can you--tell me your +name?" + +There was a demure smile on her face as the moon kissed it, and-- + +"They call me Claire," she said. + +"Claire," I murmured, half to myself. + +"And yours?" she asked. + +"Jasper--Jasper Trenoweth." + +"Then good-bye, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth. Goodbye, and once more I thank +you." + +She was gone; and standing stupid and alone I watched her graceful +figure fade into the shadow and take with it the light and joy of my +life. + + +"Jasper," said Tom, as I lounged into our wretched garret, "have you +ever known what it is to suffer from the responsibility of wealth? +I do not mean a few paltry sovereigns; but do you know what it is to +live with, say, three thousand four hundred and sixty-five pounds +thirteen and sixpence on your conscience?" + +"No," I said; "I cannot say that I have. But why that extraordinary +sum?" + +"Because that is the sum which has been hanging all day around me as +a mill-stone. Because that is the exact amount which at present +makes me fear to look my fellow-man in the face." + +I simply stared. + +"Jasper, you are singularly dense, or much success has turned your +brain. Say, Jasper, that success has not turned your brain." + +"Not that I know of," I replied. + +"Very well, then," said Tom, stepping to the bed and pulling back the +counterpane with much mystery. "Oblige me by counting this sum, +first the notes, then the gold, and finally the silver. Or, if that +is too much trouble, reflect that on this modest couch recline +bank-notes for three thousand one hundred and twenty pounds, gold +sovereigns to the number of three hundred and forty-two, whence by an +easy subtraction sum we obtain a remainder of silver, in value three +pounds thirteen and sixpence." + +"But, Tom, surely we never won all that?" + +"We did though, and may for the rest of our days settle down as +comparatively honest medical students. So that I propose we have +supper, and drink--for I have provided drink--to the Luck of the +Golden Clasp." + +Stunned with the events of the last twenty-four hours, I sat down to +table, but could scarcely touch my food. Tom's tongue went +ceaselessly, now apologising for the fare, now entertaining imaginary +guests, and always addressing me as a man of great wealth and +property. + +"Jasper," he remarked at length, "either you are ill, or you must +have been eating to excess all day." + +"Neither." + +"Do I gather that you wish to leave the table, and pursue your mortal +foe up and down Oxford Street?" + +I shook my head. + +"What! no revenge to-night? No thirst for blood?" + +"Tom," I replied, solemnly, "neither to-night nor any other night. +My revenge is dead." + +"Dear me! when did it take place? It must have been very sudden." + +"It died to-day." + +"Jasper," said Tom, laying his hand on my shoulder, "either wealth +has turned your brain, or most remarkably given you sanity." + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +TELLS HOW I SAW THE SHADOW OF THE ROCK; AND HOW I TOLD AND HEARD +NEWS. + +A week passed, and in the interval Tom and I made several +discoveries. In the first place, to our great relief, we discovered +that the bank-notes were received in Threadneedle Street without +question or demur. Secondly, we found our present lodgings narrow, +and therefore moved westward to St. James's. Further, it struck us +that our clothes would have to conform to the "demands of more +Occidental civilisation," as Tom put it, and also that unless we +intended to be medical students for ever it was necessary to become +medical men. Lastly, it began to dawn upon Tom that "Francesca: a +Tragedy" was a somewhat turgid performance, and on me that a holiday +on Sunday was demanded by six days of work. + +I do not know that we displayed any remarkable interest in the +_Materia Medica_, or that the authorities of Guy's looked upon us as +likely to do them any singular credit. But Tom, who had now a +writing-desk, made great alterations in "Francesca," while I consumed +vast quantities of tobacco in the endeavour to reproduce a certain +face in my note-book; and I am certain that the resolution to take a +holiday on Sunday was as strong at the end of the first week as +though I had wrought my faculties to the verge of brain fever. + +I did not see her on that Sunday, or the next, though twice my boat +explored the river between Goring and Pangbourne from early morning +until nightfall. But let me hasten over heart-aching and bitterness, +and come to the blessed Sunday when for a second time I saw my love. + +Again the day was radiant with summer. Above, the vaulted blue +arched to a capstone of noonday gold. Hardly a fleecy cloud troubled +the height of heaven, or blotted the stream's clear mirror; save here +and there where the warm air danced and quivered over the still +meadows, the season's colour lay equal upon earth. Before me the +river wound silently into the sunny solitude of space untroubled by +sight of human form. + +But what was that speck of white far down the bank--that brighter +spot upon the universal brightness, moving, advancing? My heart gave +one great leap; in a moment my boat's bows were high upon the +crumbling bank, and I was gazing down the tow-path. + +Yes, it was she! From a thousand thousand I could tell that +perfect form as it loitered--how slowly--up the river's verge. +Along heaven's boundary the day was lit with glory for me, and all +the glory but a golden frame for that white speck so carelessly +approaching. Still and mute I stood as it drew nearer--so still, so +mute, that a lazy pike thrust out its wolfish jaws just under my feet +and, seeing me, splashed under again in great discomposure; so +motionless that a blundering swallow all but darted against me, then +swept curving to the water, and vanished down the stream. + +She had been gathering May-blossom, and held a cluster in one hand. +As before, her gown was purest white, and, as before, a nodding hat +guarded her fair face jealously. + +Nearer and nearer she came, glanced carelessly at me who stood +bare-headed in the sun's glare, was passing, and glanced again, +hesitated for one agonising moment, and then, as our eyes met, shot +out a kindly flash of remembrance, followed by the sweetest of little +blushes. + +"So you are here again," she said, as she gave her hand, and her +voice made exquisite music in my ear. + +"Again?" I said, slowly releasing her fingers as a miser might part +with treasure. "Again? I have been here every Sunday since." + +"Dear me! is it so long ago? Only three weeks after all. +I remember, because--" + +The fleeting hope possessed me that it might be some recollection in +which I had place, but my illusion was swiftly shattered. + +"Because," the pitiless sentence continued, "mother was not well that +evening; in fact, she has been ill ever since. So it is only three +weeks." + +"Only three weeks!" I echoed. + +"Yes," she nodded. "I have not seen the river for all that time. +Is it changed?" + +"Sadly changed." + +"How?" + +"Perhaps I have changed." + +"Well, I hope so," she laughed, "after that wetting;" then, seeing an +indignant flash in my eyes, she added quickly, "which you got by so +kindly bringing back my boat." + +"You have not been rowing to-day?" + +"No; see, I have been gathering the last of the May-blossom. May is +all but dead." + +"And 'Flower of the May'?" + +"Please do not remind me of that foolish song. Had I known, I would +not have sung it for worlds." + +"I would not for worlds have missed it." + +Again she frowned and now turned to go. "And you, too, must make +these speeches!" + +The world of reproach in her tone was at once gall and honey to me. +Gall, because the "you too" conjured up a host of jealous imaginings; +honey, because it was revealed that of me she had hoped for better. +And now like a fool I had flung her good opinion away and she was +leaving me. + +I made a half-step forward. + +"I must go now," she said, and the little hand was held out in token +of farewell. + +"No! no! I have offended you." + +No answer. + +"I have offended you," I insisted, still holding her hand. + +"I forgive you. But, indeed, I must go." The hand made a faint +struggle to be free. + +"Why?" + +My voice came hard and unnatural. I still held the fingers, and as I +did so, felt the embarrassment of utter shyness pass over the bridge +of our two hands and settle chokingly upon my heart. + +"Why?" I repeated, more hoarsely yet. + +"Because--because I must not neglect mother again. She is waiting." + +"Then let me go with you." + +"Oh, no! Some day--if we meet--I will introduce you." + +"Why not now?" + +"Because she is not well." + +Even my lately-acquired knowledge of the _Materia Medico_, scarcely +warranted me in offering to cure her. But I did. + +She laughed shyly and said, "How, sir; are you a doctor?" + +"Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, gentleman, apothecary," I said +lightly, "neither one nor the other, but that curious compound of the +two last--a medical student." + +"Then I will not trust you," she answered, smiling. + +"Better trust me," I said; and something in my words again made her +look down. + +"You will trust me?" I pleaded, and the something in my words grew +plainer. + +Still no answer. + +"Oh, trust me!" + +The hand quivered in mine an instant, the eyes looked up and laughed +once more. "I will trust you," she said--"not to move from this spot +until I am out of sight." + +Then with a light "Good-bye" she was gone, and I was left to vaguely +comprehend my loss. + +Before long I had seen her a third time and yet once again. I had +learnt her name to be Luttrell--Claire Luttrell; how often did I not +say the words over to myself? I had also confided in Tom and +received his hearty condolence, Tom being in that stage of youth +which despises all of which it knows nothing--love especially, as a +thing contrary to nature's uniformity. So Tom was youthfully +cynical, and therefore by strange inference put on the airs of +superior age; was also sceptical of my description, especially a +certain comparison of her eyes to stars, though a very similar trope +occurred somewhere in the tragedy. Indeed therein Francesca's eyes +were likened to the Pleiads, being apparently (as I pointed out with +some asperity) seven in number, and one of them lost. + +I had also seen Mrs. Luttrell, a worn and timid woman, with weak blue +eyes and all the manner of the professional invalid. I say this now, +but in those days she was in my eyes a celestial being mysteriously +clothed in earth's infirmities--as how should the mother of Claire be +anything else? Somehow I won the favour of this faded creature-- +chiefly, I suspect, because she liked so well to be left alone. +All day long she would sit contentedly watching the river and waiting +for Claire, yet only anxious that Claire should be happy. All her +heart centred on her child, and often, in spite of our friendliness, +I caught her glancing from Claire to me with a jealous look, as +though the mother guessed what the child suspected but dimly, if at +all. + +So the summer slipped away, all too fleetly--to me, as I look back +after these weary years, in a day. But nevertheless much happened: +not much that need be written down in bald and pitiless prose, but +much to me who counted and treasured every moment that held my +darling near me. So the Loves through that golden season wound us +round with their invisible chains and hovered smiling and waiting. +So we drifted week after week upon the river, each time nearer and +nearer to the harbour of confession. The end was surely coming, and +at last it came. + +It was a gorgeous August evening. A week before she had told me that +Saturday would be a holiday for her, and had, when pressed, admitted +a design of spending it upon the river. Need it be confessed that +Saturday saw me also in my boat, expectant? And when she came and +feigned pretty astonishment at meeting me, and scepticism as to my +doing any work throughout the week, need I say the explanation took +time and seemed to me best delivered in a boat? At any rate, so it +was; and somehow, the explanation took such a vast amount of time, +that the sun was already plunging down the western slope of heaven +when we stepped ashore almost on the very spot where first I had +heard her voice. + +As the first film of evening came creeping over earth, there fell a +hush between us. A blackbird--the same, I verily believe--took the +opportunity to welcome us. His note was no longer full and unstudied +as in May. The summer was nearly over, and with it his voice was +failing; but he did his best, and something in the hospitality of his +song prompted me to break the silence. + +"This is the very spot on which we met for the first time--do you +remember?" + +"Of course I remember," was the simple answer. + +"You do?" I foolishly burned to hear the assurance again. + +"Of course--it was such a lovely day." + +"A blessed day," I answered, "the most blessed of my life." + +There was a long pause here, and even the blackbird could hardly fill +it up. + +"Do you regret it?" + +(Why does man on these occasions ask such a heap of questions?) + +"Why should I?" + +(Why does woman invariably answer his query with another?) + +"I hope there is no reason," I answered, "and yet--oh, can you not +see of what that day was the beginning? Can you not see whither +these last four months have carried me?" + +The sun struck slanting on the water and ran in tapering lustre to +our feet. The gilded ripple slipped and murmured below us; the +bronzed leaves overhead bent carefully to veil her answer. The bird +within the covert uttered an anxious note. + +"They have carried you, it seems," she answered, with eyes gently +lowered, "back to the same place." + +"They have carried me," I echoed, "from spring to summer. If they +have brought me back to this spot, it is because the place and I have +changed--Claire!" + +As I called her by her Christian name she gave one quick glance, and +then turned her eyes away again. I could see the soft rose creeping +over her white neck and cheek. Had I offended? Between hope and +desperation, I continued-- + +"Claire--I will call you Claire, for that was the name you told me +just four months ago--I am changed, oh, changed past all remembrance! +Are you not changed at all? Am I still nothing to you?" + +She put up her hand as if to ward off further speech, but spoke no +word herself. + +"Answer me, Claire; give me some answer if only a word. Am I still +no more than the beggar who rescued your boat that day?" + +"Of course, you are my friend--now. Please forget that I took you +for a beggar." + +The words came with effort. Within the bushes the blackbird still +chirped expectant, and the ripple below murmured to the bank, +"The old story--the old story." + +"But I am a beggar," I broke out. "Claire, I am always a beggar on +my knees before you. Oh, Claire!" + +Her face was yet more averted--the sun kissed her waving locks with +soft lips of gold, the breeze half stirred the delicate draperies +around her. The blackbird's note was broken and halting as my own +speech. + +"Claire, have you not guessed? will you never guess? Oh, have pity +on me!" + +I could see the soft bosom heaving now. The little hand was pulling +at the gown. Her whole sweet shape drooped away from me in vague +alarm--but still no answer came. + +"Courage! Courage!" chirped the bird, and the river murmured +responsive, "Courage!" + +"Claire!"--and now there was a ring of agony in the voice; the tones +came alien and scarcely recognised--"Claire, I have watched and +waited for this day, and now that it has come, for good or for evil, +answer me--I love you!" + +O time-honoured and most simple of propositions! "I love you!" Night +after night had I lain upon my bed rehearsing speeches, tender, +passionate and florid, and lo! to this had it all come--to these +three words, which, as my lips uttered them, made my heart leap in +awe of their crude and naked daring. + +And she? The words, as though they smote her, chased for an instant +the rich blood from her cheek. For a moment the bosom heaved wildly, +then the colour came slowly back, and ebbed again. A soft tremor +shook the bending form, the little hand clutched the gown, but she +made no answer. + +"Speak to me, Claire! I love you! With my life and soul I love you. +Can you not care for me?" I took the little hand. "Claire, my heart +is in your hands--do with it what you will, but speak to me. Can you +not--do you not--care for me?" + +The head drooped lower yet, the warm fingers quivered within mine, +then tightened, and-- + +What was that whisper, that less than whisper, for which I bent my +head? Had I heard aright? Or why was it that the figure drooped +closer, and the bird's note sprang up jubilant? + +"Claire!" + +A moment--one tremulous, heart-shaking moment--and then her form bent +to me, abandoned, conquered; her face looked up, then sank upon my +breast; but before it sank I read upon it a tenderness and a passion +infinite, and caught in her eyes the perfect light of love. + +As the glory of delight came flooding on my soul, the sun's disc +dropped, and the first cold shadow of night fell upon earth. +The blackbird uttered a broken "Amen," and was gone no man knew +whither. The golden ripple passed up the river, and vanished in a +leaden grey. One low shuddering sigh swept through the trees, then +all was dumb. I looked westward. Towards the horizon the blue of +day was fading downwards through indistinguishable zones of purple, +amethyst, and palest rose, the whole heaven arching in one perfect +rainbow of love. + +But while I looked and listened to the beating of that beloved heart +girdled with my arm, there grew a something on the western sky that +well-nigh turned my own heart to marble. At first, a lightest +shadow--a mere breath upon heaven's mirror, no more. Then as I +gazed, it deepened, gathering all shadows from around the pole, +heaping, massing, wreathing them around one spot in the troubled +west--a shape that grew and threatened and still grew, until I looked +on--what? + +Up from the calm sea of air rose one solitary island, black and +looming, rose and took shape and stood out--the very form and +semblance of Dead Man's Rock! Sable and real as death it towered +there against the pale evening, until its shadow, falling on my heart +itself and on the soft brown head that bent and nestled there, lay +round us clasped so, and with its frown cursed the morning of our +love. + +Something in my heart's beat, or in the stiffening of my arm, must +have startled my darling, for as I gazed I felt her stir, and, +looking down, caught her eyes turned wistfully upwards. My lips bent +to hers. + +"Mine, Claire! Mine for ever!" + +And there, beneath the shadow of the Rock, our lips drew closer, met, +and were locked in their first kiss. + +When I looked up again the shadow had vanished, and the west was grey +and clear. + + +So in the tranquil evening we rowed homewards, our hearts too full +for speech. The wan moon rose and trod the waters, but we had no +thoughts, no eyes for her. Our eyes were looking into each other's +depths, our thoughts no thoughts at all, but rather a dazzled and +wondering awe. + +Only as a light or two gleamed out, and Streatley twinkled in the +distance, Claire said-- + +"Can it be true? You know nothing of me." + +"I know you love me. What more should I know, or wish to know?" + +The red lips were pursed in a manner that spoke whole tomes of +wisdom. + +"You do not know that I work for my living all the week?" + +"When you are mine you shall work no more." + +"'But sit on a cushion and sew a gold seam'? Ah, no; I have to work. +It is strange," she said, musingly, "so strange." + +"What is strange, Claire?" + +"That you have never seen me except on my holidays--that we have +never met. What have you done since you have been in London?" + +I thought of my walks and tireless quest in Oxford Street with a kind +of shame. That old life was severed from the present by whole +worlds. + +"I have lived very quietly," I answered. "But is it so strange that +we have never met?" + +She laughed a low and musical laugh, and as the boat drew shoreward +and grounded, replied-- + +"Perhaps not. Come, let us go to mother--Jasper." + +O sweet sound from sweetest lips! We stepped ashore, and +hand-in-hand entered the room where her mother sat. + +As she looked up and saw us standing there together, she knew the +truth in a moment. Her blue eyes filled with sudden fear, her worn +hand went upwards to her heart. Until that instant she had not known +of my presence there that day, and in a flash divined its meaning. + +"I feared it," she answered at length, as I told my story and stood +waiting for an answer. "I feared it, and for long have been +expecting it. Claire, my love, are you sure? Oh, be quite sure +before you leave me." + +For answer, Claire only knelt and flung her white arms round her +mother's neck, and hid her face upon her mother's bosom. + +"You love him now, you think; but, oh, be careful. Search your heart +before you rob me of it. I have known love, too, Claire, or thought +I did; and indeed it can fade--and then, what anguish, what anguish!" + +"Mother, mother! I will never leave you." + +Mrs. Luttrell sighed. + +"Ah, child, it is your happiness I am thinking of." + +"I will never leave you, mother." + +"And you, sir," continued Mrs. Luttrell, "are you sure? I am giving +you what is dearer than life itself; and as you value her now, treat +her worthily hereafter. Swear this to me, if my gift is worth so +much in your eyes. Sir, do you know--" + +"Mother!" + +Claire drew her mother's head down towards her and whispered in her +ear. Mrs. Luttrell frowned, hesitated, and finally said-- + +"Well, it shall be as you wish--though I doubt if it be wise. +God bless you, Claire--and you, sir; but oh, be certain, be certain!" + +What incoherent speech I made in answer I know not, but my heart was +sore for this poor soul. Claire turned her eyes to me and rose, +smoothing her mother's grey locks. + +"We will not leave her, will we? Tell her that we will not." + +I echoed her words, and stepping to Mrs. Luttrell, took the frail, +white hand. + +"Sir," she said, "you who take her from me should be my bitterest +foe. Yet see, I take you for a son." + + +Still rapt with the glory of my great triumph, and drunk with the +passion of that farewell kiss, I walked into our lodgings and laid my +hand on Tom's shoulder. + +"Tom, I have news for you." + +Tom started up. "And so have I for you." + +"Great news." + +"Glorious news!" + +"Tom, listen: I am accepted." + +"Bless my soul! Jasper, so am I." + +"You?" + +"Yes." + +"When? Where?" + +"This afternoon. Jasper, our success has come at last: for you the +Loves, for me the Muses; for you the rose, for me the bay. Jasper, +dear boy, they have learnt her worth at last." + +"Her! Who?" + +"Francesca. Jasper, in three months I shall be famous; for next +November 'Francesca: a Tragedy' will be produced at the Coliseum." + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +TELLS HOW THE CURTAIN ROSE UPON "FRANCESCA: A TRAGEDY." + +Again my story may hurry, for on the enchanted weeks that followed it +would weary all but lovers to dwell, and lovers for the most part +find their own matters sufficient food for pondering. Tom was busy +with the rehearsals at the Coliseum, and I, being left alone, had +little taste for the _Materia Medica_. On Sundays only did I see +Claire; for this Mrs. Luttrell had stipulated, and my love, too, most +mysteriously professed herself busy during the week. As for me, it +was clear that before marriage could be talked of I must at least +have gained my diplomas, so that the more work I did during the week +the better. The result of this was a goodly sowing of resolutions +and very little harvest. In the evenings, Tom and I would sit +together--he tirelessly polishing and pruning the tragedy, and I for +the most part smoking and giving advice which I am bound to say in +duty to the author ("Francesca" having gained some considerable fame +since those days) was invariably rejected. + +Tom had been growing silent and moody of late--a change for which I +could find no cause. He would answer my questions at random, pause +in his work to gaze long and intently on the ceiling, and altogether +behave in ways unaccountable and strange. The play had been written +at white-hot speed: the corrections proceeded at a snail's pace. +The author had also fallen into a habit of bolting his meals in +silence, and, when rebuked, of slowly bringing his eyes to bear upon +me as a person whose presence was until the moment unsuspected. +All this I saw in mild wonder, but I reflected on certain moods of my +own of late, and held my peace. + +The explanation came without my seeking. We were seated together one +evening, he over his everlasting corrections, and I in some +especially herbaceous nook of the _Materia Medica_, when Tom looked +up and said-- + +"Jasper, I want your opinion on a passage. Listen to this." + +Sick of my flowery solitude, I gave him my attention while he read:-- + + "She is no violet to veil and hide + Before the lusty sun, but as the flower, + His best-named bride, that leaneth to the light + And images his look of lordly love-- + Yet how I wrong her. She is more a queen + Than he a king; and whoso looks must kneel + And worship, conscious of a Sovranty + Undreamt in nature, save it be the Heaven + That minist'ring to all is queen of all, + And wears the proud sun's self but as a gem + To grace her girdle, one among the stars. + Heaven is Francesca, and Francesca Heaven. + Without her, Heaven is dispossessed of Heaven, + And Earth, discrowned and disinherited, + Shall beg in black eclipse, until her eyes--" + +"Stay," I interrupted, "unless I am mistaken her eyes are like the +Pleiads, a simile to which I have more than once objected." + +"If you would only listen you would find those lines cut out," said +Tom, pettishly. + +"In that case I apologise: nevertheless, if that is your idea of a +Francesca, I confess she seems to me a trifle--shall we say?-- +massive." + +"Your Claire, I suppose, is stumpy?" + +"My Claire," I replied with dignity, "is neither stumpy nor +stupendous." + +"In fact, just the right height." + +"Well, yes, just the right height." + +Tom paid no attention, but went on in full career-- + +"I hate your Griseldas, your Jessamys, your Mary Anns; give me +Semiramis, Dido, Joan of--" + +"My dear Tom, not all at once, I hope." + +"Bah! you are so taken up with your own choice, that you must needs +scoff at anyone who happens to differ. I tell you, woman should be +imperial, majestic; should walk as a queen and talk as a goddess. +You scoff because you have never seen such; you shut your eyes and go +about saying, 'There is no such woman.' By heaven, Jasper, if you +could only see--" + +At this point Tom suddenly pulled up and blushed like any child. + +"Go on--whom shall I see?" + +Tom's blush was beautiful to look upon. + +"The Lambert, for instance; I meant--" + +"Who is the Lambert?" + +"Do you mean to say you have never heard of Clarissa Lambert, the +most glorious actress in London?" + +"Never. Is she acting at the Coliseum?" + +"Of course she is. She takes Francesca. Oh, Jasper, you should see +her, she is divine!" + +Here another blush succeeded. + +"So," I said after a pause, "you have taken upon yourself to fall in +love with this Clarissa Lambert." + +Tom looked unutterably sheepish. + +"Is the passion returned?" + +"Jasper, don't talk like that and don't be a fool. Of course I have +never breathed a word to her. Why, she hardly knows me, has hardly +spoken to me beyond a few simple sentences. How should I, a +miserable author without even a name, speak to her? Jasper, do you +like the name Clarissa?" + +"Not half so well as Claire." + +"Nonsense; Claire is well enough as names go, but nothing to +Clarissa. Mark how the ending gives it grace and quaintness; what a +grand eighteenth-century ring it has! It is superb--so sweet, and at +the same time so stately." + +"And replaces Francesca so well in scansion." + +Tom's face was confession. + +"You should see her, Jasper--her eyes. What colour are Claire's?" + +"Deep grey." + +"Clarissa's are hazel brown: I prefer brown; in fact I always thought +a woman should have brown eyes: we won't quarrel about inches, but +you will give way in the matter of eyes, will you not?" + +"Not an inch." + +"It really is wonderful," said Tom, "how the mere fact of being in +love is apt to corrupt a man's taste. Now in the matter of voice--I +dare wager that your Claire speaks in soft and gentle numbers." + +"As an Aeolian harp," said I, and I spoke truth. + +"Of course, unrelieved tenderness and not a high note in the gamut. +But you should hear Clarissa; I only ask you to hear her once, and +let those glorious accents play upon your crass heart for a moment or +two. O Jasper, Jasper, it shakes the very soul!" + +Tom was evidently in a very advanced stage of the sickness; I could +not find it in my heart to return his flouts of a month before, so I +said-- + +"Very well, my dear Tom, I shall look upon your divinity in November. +I do not promise you she will have the effect that you look forward +to, but I am glad your Francesca will be worthily played; and, Tom, I +am glad you are in love; I think it improves you." + +"It is hopeless--absolutely hopeless; she is cold as ice." + +"What, with that voice and those eyes? Nonsense, man." + +"She is cold as ice," groaned poor Tom; "everyone says so." + +"Of course everyone says so; you ought to be glad of that, for this +is the one point on which what everyone says must from the nature of +things be false. Why, man, if she beamed on the whole world, then I +might believe you." + +From which it will be gathered that I had learned something from +being in love. + + +So sad did I consider Tom's case, that I spoke to Claire about it +when I saw her next. + +"Claire," I said, "you have often heard me speak of Tom." + +"Really, Jasper, you seldom speak of anybody else. In fact I am +growing quite jealous of this friend." + +After the diversion caused by this speech, I resumed-- + +"But really Tom is the best of fellows, and if I talk much of him it +is because he is my only friend. You must see him, Claire, and you +will be sure to like him. He is so clever!" + +"What is the name of this genius--I mean the other name?" + +"Why, Loveday, of course--Thomas Loveday. Do you mean to say I have +never told you?" + +"Never," said Claire, meditatively. "Loveday--Thomas Loveday--is it +a common name?" + +"No, I should think not very common. Don't you like it?" + +"It--begins well." + +Here followed another diversion. + +"But what I was going to say about Tom," I continued, "is this--he +has fallen in love; in fact, I have never seen a man so deeply in +love." + +"Oh!" + +"Anyone else," I corrected, "for of course I was quite as bad; you +understand that." + +"We were talking of Thomas Loveday." + +"Oh, yes, of Tom. Well, Tom, you know--or perhaps you do not. +At any rate, Tom has written a tragedy." + +"All about love?" + +"Well, not quite all; though there is a good deal in it, considering +it was written when the author had no idea of what the passion was +like. But that is not the point. This tragedy is coming out at the +Coliseum in November. Are you not well, Claire?" + +"Yes, yes; go on. What has all this to do with Tom's love?" + +"I am coming to that. Tom, of course, has been attending the +rehearsals lately. He will not let me come until the piece is ready, +for he is wonderfully nervous. I am to come and see it on the first +night. Well, as I was saying, Tom has been going to rehearsals, and +has fallen in love with--guess with whom." + +Claire was certainly getting very white. + +"Are you sure you are well, Claire?" I asked, anxiously. + +"Oh, yes; quite sure. But tell me with whom--how should I guess?" + +"Why, with the leading actress; one Clarissa Lambert, is it not?" + +"Clarissa--Lambert!" + +"Why, Claire, what is the matter? Are you faint?" For my love had +turned deathly pale, and seemed as though she would faint indeed. + +We were in the old spot so often revisited, though the leaves were +yellowing fast, and the blackbird's note had long ceased utterly. +I placed my arm around her for support, but my darling unlocked it +after a moment, struggled with her pallor, and said-- + +"No, no; I am better. It was a little faintness, but is passing off. +Go on, and tell me about Mr. Loveday." + +"I am afraid I bored you. But that is all. Do you know this +Clarissa Lambert? Have you seen her?" + +"Yes--I have seen her." + +"I suppose she is very famous; at least, Tom says so. He also says +she is divine; but I expect, from his description, that she is of the +usual stamp of Tragedy Queen, tall and loud, with a big voice." + +"Did he tell you that?" + +"No, of course Tom raves about her. But there is no accounting for +what a lover will say." This statement was made with all the sublime +assurance of an accepted man. "But you have seen her," I went on, +"and can tell me how far his description is true. I suppose she is +much the same as other actresses, is she not?" + +"Jasper," said Claire, very gently, after a pause, "do you ever go to +a theatre?" + +"Very seldom; in fact, about twice only since I have been in London." + +"I suppose you were taught as a boy to hate such things?" + +"Well," I laughed, "I do not expect Uncle Loveday would have approved +of Tom's choice, if that is what you mean. But that does not matter, +I fear, as Tom swears that his case is hopeless. He worships from +afar, and says that she is as cold as ice. In fact, he has never +told his love, but lets concealment like a--" + +"That is not what I meant. Do you--do you think all actors and +actresses wicked?" + +"Of course not. Why should I?" + +"You are going to see--" + +"'Francesca'? Oh, yes, on the opening night." + +"Then possibly we shall meet. Will you look out for me?" + +"Let me take you, Claire. Oh, I am glad indeed! You will see Tom +there, and, I hope, be able to congratulate him on his triumph. +So let me take you." + +She shook her head. + +"No, no." + +"Why?" + +"Because that is impossible--really. I shall see you there, and you +will see me. Is not that enough?" + +"If you say so, it must be," I answered sadly. "But--" + +"'But me no buts,'" she quoted. "See, it is getting late; we must be +going." + +A most strange silence fell upon us on the way back to Streatley. +Claire's face had not yet wholly regained its colour, and she seemed +disinclined to talk. So I had to solace myself by drinking in long +draughts of her loveliness, and by whispering to my soul how poorly +Tom's Queen of Tragedy would show beside my sweetheart. + +O fool and blind! + +Presently my love asked musingly-- + +"Jasper, do you think that you could cease to love me?" + +"Claire, how can you ask it?" + +"You are quite sure? You remember what mother said?" + +"Claire, love is strong as death. How does the text run? +'Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if +a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would +utterly be contemned.' Claire, you must believe that!" + +"'Strong as death,'" she murmured. "Yes, I believe it. What a +lovely text that is!" + +The boat touched shore at Streatley, and we stepped out. + +"Jasper," she said again at parting that night, "you have no +doubt, no grain of doubt, about my question, and the answer? +'Strong as death,' you are sure?" + +For answer I strained her to my heart. + +O fool and blind! O fool and blind! + + +The night that was big with Tom's fate had come. The Coliseum was +crowded as we entered. In those days the theatre had no stalls, so +we sat in the front row of the dress circle, Tom having in his +modesty refused a box. He was behind the scenes until some five +minutes before the play began, so that before he joined me I had +ample time to study the house and look about for some sign of Claire. + +Certainly, the sedulous manner in which the new tragedy had been +advertised was not without result. To me, unused as I was to +theatre-going, the host of people, the hot air, the glare of the +gas-lights were intoxicating. In a flutter of anxiety for Tom's +success, of sweet perturbation at the prospect of meeting Claire, at +first I could grasp but a confused image of the scene. By degrees, +however, I began to look about me, and then to scan the audience +narrowly for sight of my love. + +Surely I should note her at once among thousands. Yet my first +glance was fruitless. I looked again, examined the house slowly face +by face, and again was baffled. I could see all but a small portion +of the pit, the upper boxes and gallery. Pit and gallery were out of +the question. She might, though it was hardly likely, be in the tier +just above, and I determined to satisfy myself after the end of Act +I. Meantime I scanned the boxes. There were twelve on either side +of the house, and all were full. By degrees I satisfied myself that +strangers occupied all of them, except the box nearest the stage on +the right of the tier where I was sitting. The occupants of this +were out of sight. Only a large yellow and black fan was swaying +slowly backwards and forwards to tell me that somebody sat there. + +Somehow, the slow, ceaseless motion of this pricked my curiosity. +Its pace, as it waved to and fro, was unaltered; the hand that moved +it seemingly tireless; but even the hand was hidden. Not a finger +could I gain a glimpse of. By some silly freak of fancy I was +positively burning with eagerness to see the fan's owner, when Tom +returned and took his seat beside me. + +"It begins in five minutes; everything is ready," said he, and his +voice had a nervous tremor which he sought in vain to hide. + +"Courage!" I said; "at least the numbers here should flatter you." + +"They frighten me! What shall I do if it fails?" + +The overture was drawing to its close. Tom looked anxiously around +the house. + +"Yes," he said, "it is crowded, indeed. By the way, was not Claire +to have been here? Point her out to me." + +"She was; but I cannot see her anywhere. Perhaps she is late." + +"If so, I cannot see where she is to find a place. Hush! they are +ending." + +As he spoke, the last strains of the orchestra died slowly and +mournfully away, and the curtain rose upon "Francesca: a Tragedy." + +This play has since gained such a name, not only from its own merits +(which are considerable), but in consequence also of certain +circumstances which this story will relate, that it would be not only +tedious but unnecessary to follow its action in detail. For the +benefit, however, of those who did not see it at the Coliseum, I here +subjoin a short sketch of the plot, which the better-informed reader +may omit. + +Francesca is the daughter of Sebastian, at one time Duke of Bologna, +but deposed and driven from his palace by the intrigues of his +younger brother Charles. At the time when the action begins, +Sebastian is chief of a band of brigands, the remains of his faithful +adherents, whom he has taken with him to the fastnesses of the +Apennines. Charles, who has already usurped the duchy for some +sixteen years, is travelling with his son Valentine, a youth of +twenty, near the haunt of his injured brother. Separated from their +escort, they are wandering up a pass, when Valentine stops to admire +the view, promising his father to join him at the summit. While thus +occupied, he is startled by the entrance of Francesca, and, struck +with her beauty, accosts her. She, sympathising for so noble a +youth, warns him of the banditti, and he hastens on only to find his +father lying at the foot of a precipitous rock, dead. He supposes +him to have fallen, has the body conveyed back to Bologna, and having +by this time fallen deeply in love with Francesca, prevails on her to +leave her father and come with him. She consents, and flies with +him, but after some time finds that he is deserting her for Julia, +daughter of the Duke of Ferrara. Slighted and driven to desperation, +she makes her way back to her father, is forgiven, and learns that +Charles' death was due to no accident, but to her father's hand. +No sooner is this discovery made than Valentine and Julia are brought +in by the banditti, who have surprised and captured them, but do not +know their rank. The deposed duke, Sebastian, does not recognise +Valentine, and consigns him, with his wife, to a cave, under guard of +the brigands. It is settled by Sebastian that on the morrow +Valentine is to go and fetch a ransom, leaving his wife behind. +Francesca, having plied the guards with drink, enters by night into +the cave where they lie captive, is recognised by them, and offers to +change dresses with Julia in order that husband and wife may escape. +A fine scene follows of insistence and self-reproach, but ultimately +Francesca prevails. Valentine and Julia pass out in the grey dawn, +and Francesca, left alone, stabs herself. The play concludes as her +father enters the cave and discovers his daughter's corpse. + +The first scene (which is placed at the court of Bologna) passed +without disaster, and the curtain fell for a moment before it rose +upon the mountain pass. Hitherto the audience had been chilly. +They did not hiss, but neither did they applaud; and I could feel, +without being able to give any definite reason for the impression, +that so far the play had failed. Tom saw it too. I did not dare to +look in his face, but could tell his agony by his short and laboured +breathing. Luckily his torture did not last long, for the curtain +quickly rose for Scene 2. + +The scene was beautifully painted and awakened a momentary enthusiasm +in the audience. It died away, however, as Sebastian and Valentine +entered. The dialogue between them was short, and Valentine was very +soon left alone to a rather dull soliloquy (since shortened) which +began to weary the audience most unmistakably. I caught the sound of +a faint hiss, saw one or two people yawning; and then-- + +Stealing, rising, swelling, gathering as it thrilled the ear all +graces and delights of perfect sound; sweeping the awed heart with +touch that set the strings quivering to an ecstasy that was almost +pain; breathing through them in passionate whispering; hovering, +swaying, soaring upward to the very roof, then shivering down again +in celestial shower of silver--there came a voice that trod all +conceptions, all comparisons, all dreams to scorn; a voice beyond +hope, beyond belief; a voice that in its unimaginable beauty seemed +to compel the very heaven to listen. + +And yet--surely I knew--surely it could not be-- + +I must be dreaming--mad! The bare notion was incredible--and even as +my heart spoke the words, the theatre grew dim and shadowy; the vast +sea of faces heaved, melted, swam in confusion; all sound came dull +and hoarse upon my ear; while there--there-- + +There, in the blaze of light, radiant, lovely, a glorified and +triumphant queen, stepped forward before the eyes of that vast +multitude--my love, my Claire! + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +TELLS HOW THE BLACK AND YELLOW FAN SENT A MESSAGE; AND HOW I SAW A +FACE IN THE FOG. + +As I sat stupefied our eyes met. It was but for an instant, but in +that instant I saw that she recognised me and mutely challenged my +verdict. Then she turned to Valentine. + +The theatre rang with tumultuous plaudits as her song ended. I could +feel Tom's grasp at my elbow, but I could neither echo the applause +nor answer him. It was all so wildly, grotesquely improbable. + +This then was my love, this the Claire whom I had wooed and won in +the shy covert of Pangbourne Woods--this deified and transfigured +being before whom thousands were hushed in awe. Those were the lips +that had faltered in sweet confession--those before which the breath +of thousands came and went in agitated wonder. It was incredible. + +And then, as Tom's hand was laid upon my arm, it flashed upon me that +the woman he loved was my plighted bride--and he knew nothing of it. +As this broke upon me there swept over me an awful dread lest he +should see my face and guess the truth. How could I tell him? +Poor Tom! Poor Tom! + +I turned my eyes upon Claire again. Yes, she was superb: beyond all +challenge glorious. And all the more I felt as one who has betrayed +his friend and is angry with fate for sealing such betrayal beyond +revoke. + +Whether Claire misinterpreted my look of utter stupefaction or not, I +do not know; but as she turned and recognised Valentine there was a +tremor in her voice which the audience mistook for art, though I knew +it to be but too real. I tried to smile and to applaud, but neither +eyes nor hand would obey my will; and so even Claire's acting became +a reproach and an appeal to me, pleading forgiveness to which my soul +cried assent though my voice denied it. Minute after minute I sat +beneath an agonising spell I could not hope to break. + + +"Congratulate me, Jasper. What do you think of her?" + +It was Tom's voice beside me. Congratulate him! I felt the meanest +among men. + +"She is--glorious," I stammered. + +"I knew you would say so. Unbeliever, did ever man see such eyes? +Confess now, what are Claire's beside them?" + +"Claire's--are--much the same." + +"Why, man, Claire's were deep grey but a day or two ago, and +Clarissa's are the brownest of brown; but of course you cannot see +from here." + +Alas! I knew too surely the colour of Claire's eyes, so like brown +in the blaze of the foot-lights. And her height--Tom had only seen +her walk in tragic buskin. How fatally easy had the mistake been! + +"Tom, your success is certain now." + +"Yes, thanks to her. They were going to damn the play before she +entered. I could see it. Did you see, Jasper? She looked this way +for a moment. Do you think she meant to encourage me? By the way, +have you caught sight of Claire yet?" + +Oh, Tom, Tom, let me spare you for this night! My heart throbbed and +something in my throat seemed choking me as I muttered, "Yes." + +"Then do not stay congratulating me, but fly. Success spoils the +lover. Ah, Jasper, if only Clarissa had summoned me! Hasten: I will +keep my eye upon you and smile approval on your taste. Where is +she?" + +Again something seemed to catch me by the throat; I was struggling to +answer when I heard a voice behind me say, "For you, sir," and a note +was thrust into my hand. With beating heart I opened it, expecting +to see Claire's handwriting. But the note was not from her. It was +scribbled hastily with pencil in a bold hand, and ran thus:-- + + "An old friend wishes to see you. Come, if you have time. + Box No. 7." + +At first I thought the message must have reached me by mistake, but +it was very plainly directed to "J. Trenoweth, Esq." I looked around +for the messenger but found him gone, and fell to scanning the boxes +once more. + +As before, they were filled with strangers; and, as before, the black +and yellow fan was waving slowly to and fro, as though the hand that +wielded it was no hand at all, but rather some untiring machine. +Still the owner remained invisible. I hesitated, reflected a moment, +and decided that even a fool's errand was better than enduring the +agony of Tom's rapture. I rose. + +"I will be back again directly," I said, and then left him. + +Still pondering on the meaning of this message, I made my way down +the passages until I came to the doors of the boxes, and stopped +opposite that labelled "No. 7." As I did so, it struck me that this, +from its position, must be the one which contained the black and +yellow fan. By this time thoroughly curious, I knocked. + +"Come in," said a low voice which I seemed to remember. + +I entered and found myself face to face with the yellow woman--the +mistress of the gambling-hell. + +She was seated there alone, slightly retired from the view of the +house and in the shadow; but her arm, as it rested on the cushion, +still swayed the black and yellow fan, and her diamonds sparkled +lustrously as ever in the glare that beat into the box. Her dress, +as if to emphasise the hideousness of her skin and form a staring +contrast with her wrinkled face and white hair, was of black and +yellow, in which she seemed some grisly corpse masquerading as youth. + +Struck dumb by this apparition, I took the seat into which she +motioned me, while her wonderful eyes regarded my face with stony +impassiveness. I could hear the hoarse murmurs of the house and feel +the stifling heat as it swept upwards from the pit. The strange +woman did not stir except to keep up the ceaseless motion of her +wrist. + +For a full five minutes, as it seemed to me, we sat there silently +regarding each other. Then at last she spoke, and the soft voice was +as musically sympathetic as ever. + +"You seem astonished to see me, Mr. Trenoweth, and yet I have been +looking for you for a long time." + +I bowed. + +"I have been expecting you to give me a chance of redeeming my +defeat." + +"I am sorry," stammered I, not fully recovered from my surprise, +"but that is not likely." + +"No? From my point of view it was extremely likely. But somehow +I had a suspicion that you would be different from the rest. +Perhaps it was because I had set my heart upon your coming." + +"I hope," said I, "that the money--" + +She smiled and waved her hand slightly. + +"Do not trouble about that. Had I chosen, I could have gone on +losing to you until this moment. No, perhaps it was simply because +you were least likely to do so, that I wished you to come back as all +other young men would come back. I hope you reached home safely with +what you won; but I need not ask that." + +"Indeed you need. I was attacked as I left the room, and but for a +lucky accident, should now be dead." + +"Ah," she said placidly; "you suspect me. Don't say 'no,' for +I can see you do. Nevertheless you are entirely wrong. +Why, Mr. Trenoweth, had I chosen, do you think I could not have had +you robbed before you had gone three paces from the house?" + +This was said with such composure, and her eyes were so absolutely +void of emotion, that I could but sit and gasp. Once more I recalled +the moment when, as I fled down the dark passage, I had seen her +sitting motionless and calm in the light of her countless candles. + +"But do you think I sent for you to tell you that?" she continued. +"I sent for you because you interested me, and because I want a talk +with you. Hush! the curtain is rising for the second act. Let us +resume when it has finished; you will not deny me that favour at +least." + +I bowed again, and was silent as the curtain rose--and once more +Claire's superb voice thrilled the house. Surely man was seldom more +strangely placed than was I, between the speech of my love and the +eyes of this extraordinary woman. As I sat in the shadow and +listened, I felt those blazing fires burning into my very soul; yet +whenever I looked up and met them, their icy glitter baffled all +interpretation. Still as I sat there, the voice of Claire came to me +as though beseeching and praying for my judgment, and rising with the +blaze of light and heated atmosphere of the house, swept into the box +until I could bear the oppression no longer. She must have looked +for me, and seeing my place empty, have guessed that I condemned her. +Mad with the thought, I rose to my feet and stood for a minute full +in the light of the theatre. It may not have been even a minute, but +she saw me, and once more, as our gaze met, faltered for an instant. +Then the voice rang out clear and true again, and I knew that all was +well between us. Yet in her look there was something which I could +not well interpret. + +As I sank back in my seat, I met the eyes of my companion still +impenetrably regarding me. But as the curtain fell she said +quietly-- + +"So you know Clarissa Lambert?" + +I stammered an affirmative. + +"Well? You admire her acting?" + +"I never saw it until to-night." + +"That is strange; and yet you know her?" + +I nodded. + +"She is a great success--on which I congratulate myself, for I +discovered her." + +"You!" I could only exclaim. + +"Yes, I. Is it so extraordinary? She and I are connected, so to +speak; which makes it the more odd that she should never have +mentioned you." + +The eyes seemed now to be reading me as a book. I summoned all my +courage and tried to return their steady stare. There was a pause, +broken only by the light_ frou-frou_ of the fan, as it still waved +slowly backwards and forwards. Among all the discoveries of this +night, it was hard enough to summon reason, harder to utter speech. + +"But you will be leaving me again if I do not explain why I sent for +you. You are wondering now on my reasons. They are very simple-- +professional even, in part. In the first place, I wished to have a +good look at you. Do you wonder why an old woman should wish to look +upon a comely youth? Do not blush; but listen to my other and +professional reason. I should greatly like, if I may, to look upon +your talisman--that golden buckle or whatever it was that brought +such marvellous luck. Is it on you to-night?" + +I wore it, as a matter of fact, in my waistcoat pocket, attached to +one end of my chain; but I hesitated for a moment. + +"You need not be afraid," she said, and there was a suspicion of +mockery in her tone. "I will return it, as I returned it before. +But if you are reluctant to let me see it (and remember, I have seen +it once), do not hesitate to refuse. I shall not be annoyed." + +Reflecting that, after all, her curiosity was certain to be baffled, +I handed her the Golden Clasp, with the chain, in silence. + +"It is a curious relic," said she, as she slowly examined it and laid +it on her lap for a moment. "If the question be allowed, how did you +become possessed of it?" + +"It belonged to my father," I answered. + +"Excuse me," she said, deliberately, "that is hardly an answer to my +question." + +During the silence that followed, she took up the clasp again, and +studied the writing. As she did so she used her right hand only; +indeed, during the whole time, her left had been occupied with her +tireless fan. I fancied, though I could not be certain, that it was +waving slightly faster than before. + +"The writing seems to be nonsense. What is this--'Moon end +South--deep at point'? I can make no meaning of it. I suppose +there is a meaning?" + +"Not to my knowledge," said I, and immediately repented, for once +more I seemed to catch that gleam in her eyes which had so baffled me +when first she saw the Clasp. The curtain rose upon the third act of +"Francesca," and we sat in silence, she with the Clasp lying upon her +lap, I wondering by what possibility she could know anything about my +father's secret. She could not, I determined. The whole history of +the Golden Clasp made it impossible. And yet I repented my rashness. +It was too late now, however; so, when the act was over I waited for +her to speak. + +"So this belonged to your father. Tell me, was he at all like you?" + +"He was about my height, I should guess," said I, wondering at this +new question; "but otherwise quite unlike. He was a fair man, I am +dark." + +"But your grandfather--was he not dark?" + +"I believe so," I answered, "but really--" + +"You wonder at my questions, of course. Never mind me; think me a +witch, if you like. Do I not look a witch?" + +Indeed she did, as she sat there. The diamonds flashed and gleamed, +lighting up the awful colour of her skin until she seemed a very +"Death-in-Life." + +"I see that I puzzle you; but your looks, Mr. Trenoweth, are hardly +complimentary. However, you are forgiven. Here, take your talisman, +and guard it jealously; I thank you for showing it to me, but if I +were you I should keep it secret. Shall I see you again? I suppose +not. I am afraid I have made you miss some of the tragedy. You must +pardon me for that, as I have waited long to see you. At any rate, +there is the last act to come. Good-bye, and be careful of your +talisman." + +As she spoke, she shut her fan with a sharp click, and then it +flashed upon me that it had never ceased its pendulous motion until +that instant. It was a strange idea to strike me then, but a +stranger yet succeeded. Was it that I heard a low mocking laugh +within the box as I stepped out into the passage? I cannot clearly +tell; perhaps it is but a fancy conjured up by later reflection on +that meeting and its consequences. I only know that as I bowed and +left her, the vision that I bore away was not of the gleaming gems, +the yellow face, the white hair, or waving fan, but of two coal-black +and impenetrable eyes. + +I sought my place, and dropped into the seat beside Tom. The fourth +act was beginning, so that I had time to speculate upon my interview, +but could find no hope of solution. Finally, I abandoned guessing, +to admire Claire. As the play went on, her acting grew more and more +transcendent. Lines which I had heard from Tom's lips and scoffed +at, were now fused with subtle meaning and passion. Scenes which I +had condemned as awkward and heavy, became instinct with exquisite +pathos. There comes a point in acting at which criticism ceases, +content to wonder; this point it was clear that my love had touched. +The new play was a triumphant success. + +"So," said Tom, before the last act, "Claire carries a yellow fan, +does she? I looked everywhere for you at first, and only caught +sight of you for an instant by the merest chance. You behaved rather +shabbily in giving me no chance of criticism, for I never caught a +glimpse of her. I hope she admired--Hallo! she's gone!" + +I followed his gaze, and saw that Box No. 7 was no longer occupied by +the fan. + +"I suppose you saw her off? Well, I do not admire your taste, I must +confess--nor Claire's--to go when Francesca was beginning to touch +her grandest height. Whew! you lovers make me blush for you." + +"Tom." I said, anxious to lead him from all mention of Claire, +"you must forgive me for having laughed at your play." + +"Forgive you! I will forgive you if you weep during the next act; +only on that condition." + +How shall I describe the last act? Those who read "Francesca" in its +published form can form no adequate idea of the enthusiasm in the +Coliseum that night. To them it is a skeleton; then it was clothed +with passionate flesh and blood, breathed, sobbed and wept in purest +pathos; to me, even now, as I read it again, it is charged with the +inspiration of that wonderful art, so true, so tender, that made its +last act a miracle. I saw old men sob, and young men bow their heads +to hide the emotion which they could not check. I saw that audience +which had come to criticise, tremble and break into tumultuous +weeping. Beside me, a greyheaded man was crying as any child. +Yet why do I go on? No one who saw Clarissa Lambert can ever +forget--no one who saw her not can ever imagine. + +Tom had bowed his acknowledgments, the last flower had been flung, +the last cheer had died away as we stepped out into the Strand +together. The street was wrapped in the densest of November fogs. +So thick was it that the lamps, the shop windows, came into sight, +stared at us in ghostly weakness for a moment, and then were gone, +leaving us in Egyptian gloom. I could not hope to see Claire +to-night, and Tom was too modest to offer his congratulations until +the morning. Both he and I were too shaken by the scene just past +for many words, and outside the black fog caught and held us by the +throat. + +Even in the pitchy gloom I could feel that Tom's step was buoyant. +He was treading already in imagination the path of love and fame. +How should I have the heart to tell him? How wither the chaplet that +already seemed to bind his brow? + +Tom was the first to break the silence which had fallen upon us. + +"Jasper, did you ever see or hear the like? Can a man help +worshipping her? But for her, 'Francesca' would have been hissed. +I know it, I could see it, and now, I suppose, I shall be famous. + +"Famous!" continued he, soliloquising. "Three months ago I would +have given the last drop of my blood for fame; and now, without +Clarissa, fame will be a mockery. Do you think I might have any +chance, the least chance?" + +How could I answer him? The fog caught my breath as I tried to +stammer a reply, and Tom, misinterpreting my want of words, read his +condemnation. + +"You do not? Of course, you do not; and you are right. Success has +intoxicated me, I suppose. I am not used to the drink!" and he +laughed a joyless laugh. + +Then, with a change of mood, he caught my hat from off my head, and +set his own in its place. + +"We will change characters for the nonce," he said, "after the +fashion of Falstaff and Prince Hal, and I will read myself a +chastening discourse on the vanity of human wishes. 'Do thou stand +for me, and I'll play my father.' Eh, Jasper?" + +"'Well, here I am set,'" quoted I, content to humour him. + +"Well, then, I know thee; thou art Thomas Loveday, a beggarly Grub +Street author, i' faith, a man of literature, and wouldst set eyes +upon one to whom princes fling bouquets; a low Endymion puffing a +scrannel pipe, and wouldst call therewith a queen to be thy bride. +Out upon thee for such monstrous folly!" + +In his voice, as it came to me through the dense gloom, there rang, +for all its summoned gaiety, a desperate mockery hideous to hear. + +"Behold, success hath turned thy weak brain. But an hour agone +enfranchised from Grub Street, thou must sing 'I'd be a butterfly.' +Thou art vanity absolute, conceit beyond measure, and presumption out +of all whooping. Yea, and but as a fool Pygmalion, not content with +loving thine own handiwork, thou must needs fall in love with the +goddess that breathed life into its stiff limbs; must yearn, not for +Galatea, but for Aphrodite; not for Francesca, but for--Ah!" + +What was that? I saw a figure start up as if from below our feet, +and Tom's hand go up to his breast. There was a scuffle, a curse, +and as I dashed forward, a dull, dim gleam--and Tom, with a groan, +sank back into my arms. + +That was all. A moment, and all had happened. Yet not all; for as I +caught the body of my friend, and saw his face turn ashy white in the +gloom, I saw also, saw unmistakably framed for an instant in the +blackness of the fog, a face I knew; a face I should know until death +robbed my eyes of sight and my brain of remembrance--the face of +Simon Colliver. + +A moment, and before I could pursue, before I could even shout or +utter its name, it had faded into the darkness, and was gone. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +TELLS HOW CLAIRE WENT TO THE PLAY; AND HOW SHE SAW THE GOLDEN CLASP. + +Tom was dying. His depositions had been taken and signed with his +failing hand; the surgeon had given his judgment, and my friend was +lying upon his bed, face to face with the supreme struggle. + +The knife had missed his heart by little more than an inch, but the +inward bleeding was killing him and there was no hope. He knew it, +and though the reason of that cowardly blow was a mystery to him, he +asked few questions, but faced his fate with the old boyish pluck. +His eyes as they turned to mine were lit with the old boyish love. + +Once only since his evidence was taken had his lips moved, and then +to murmur _her_ name. I had sent for her: a short note with only the +words "Tom is dying and wants to speak with you." So, while we +waited, I sat holding my friend's hand and busy with my own black +thoughts. + +I knew that he had received the blow meant for me, and that +the secret of this too, as well as that other assault in the +gambling-den, hung on the Golden Clasp and the Great Ruby. +Whatever that secret was, the yellow woman knew of it, and held it +beneath the glitter of her awful eyes. She it was that had directed +the murderous knife in the hands of Simon Colliver. Bitterly I +cursed the folly which had prompted my rash words in the theatre, and +so sacrificed my friend. With what passion, even in my despair, I +thanked Heaven that the act which led to Colliver's mistake had been +Tom's and not mine! Yet, what consolation was it? It was I, not he, +that should be lying there. He had given his life for his friend--a +friend who had already robbed him of his love. O false and +traitorous friend! + +In my humiliation I would have taken my hand from his, but a feeble +pressure and a look of faint reproach restrained me. So he lay there +and I sat beside him, and both counted the moments until Claire +should come--or death. + +A knock at the door outside. Tom heard it and in his eyes shone a +light of ineffable joy. In answer to his look I dropped his hand and +went to meet her. + +"Claire, how can I thank you for this speed?" + +"How did it happen?" + +"Murdered!" said I. "Foully struck down last night as he left the +theatre." + +Her eyes looked for a moment as though they would have questioned me +further, but she simply asked-- + +"Does he want to see me?" + +"When he heard he was to die he asked for you. Claire, if you only +knew how he longs to see you; had you only seen his eyes when he +heard you come! You know why--" + +She nodded gravely. + +"I suppose," she said slowly, "we had better say nothing of--" + +"Nothing," I answered; "it is better so. If there be any knowledge +beyond the grave he will know all soon." + +Claire was silent. + +"Yes," she assented at length, "it is better so. Take me to him." + +I drew back as Claire approached the bed, dreading to meet Tom's +eyes; but I saw them welcome her in a flash of thankful rapture, then +slowly close as though unable wholly to bear this glad vision. + +Altogether lovely she was as she bent and lifted his nerveless hand, +with the light of purest compassion on her face. + +"You have come then," said the dying man. "God bless you for that!" + +"I am come, and oh! I am so very, very sorry." + +"I saw Jasper write and knew he had sent, but I hardly dared to hope. +I am--very weak--and am going--fast." + +For answer, a tear of infinite pity dropped on the white hand. + +"Don't weep--I can't bear to see you weeping. It is all for the +best. I can see that I have had hopes and visions, but I should +never have attained them--never. Now I shall not have to strive. +Better so--better so." + +For a moment or two the lips moved inaudibly; then they spoke again-- + +"It was so good of you--to come; I was afraid--afraid--but you are +good. You saved my play last night, but you cannot save--me." +A wan smile played over the white face and was gone. + +"Better so, for I can speak now and be pardoned. Do you know why I +sent for you? I wanted to tell something--before I died. Do not be +angry--I shall be dead soon, and in the grave, they say, there is no +knowledge. Clarissa! oh, pity me--pity me, if I speak!" + +The eyes looked up imploringly and met their pardon. + +"I have loved you--yes, loved you. Can you forgive? It need not +distress--you--now. It was mad--mad--but I loved you. Jasper, come +here." + +I stepped to the bed. + +"Tell her I loved her, and ask her--to forgive me. Tell her I knew +it was hopeless. Tell her so, Jasper." + +Powerless to meet those trustful eyes, weary with the anguish of my +remorse, I stood there helpless. + +"Jasper is too much--upset just now to speak. Never mind, he will +tell you later. He is in love himself. I have never seen her, but I +hope he may be happier than I. Forgive me for saying that. I am +happy now--happy now. + +"You do not know Jasper," continued the dying man after a pause; "but +he saw you last night--and admired--how could he help it? I hope you +will be friends--for my sake. Jasper is my only friend." + +There was a grey shadow on his face now--the shadow of death. +Tom must have felt it draw near, for suddenly raising himself upon +his elbow, he cried-- + +"Ah, I was selfish--I did not think. They are waiting at the +theatre--go to them. You will act your best--for my sake. +Forget what I have said, if you cannot forgive." + +"Oh, why will you think that?" + +"You do forgive? Oh, God bless you, God bless you for it! Clarissa, +if that be so, grant one thing more of your infinite mercy. Kiss me +once--once only--on the lips. I shall die happier so. Will you--can +you--do this?" + +The film was gathering fast upon those eyes once so full of laughter; +but through it they gazed in passionate appeal. For answer, my love +bent gravely over the bed and with her lips met his; then, still +clasping his hand, sank on her knees beside the bed. + +"Thank God! My love--oh, let me call you that--you cannot--help--my +loving you. Do not pray--I am happy now and--they are waiting for +you." + +Slowly Claire arose to her feet and stood waiting for his last word-- + +"They are waiting--waiting. Good-bye, Jasper--old friend--and +Clarissa--Clarissa--my love--they are waiting--I cannot come--Clar--" + +Slowly Claire bent and once more touched his lips, then without a +word passed slowly out. As she went Death entered and found on its +victim's face a changeless, rapturous smile. + +So "Francesca" was played a second time and, as the papers said next +morning, with even more perfect art and amid more awed enthusiasm +than on the first night. But as the piece went on, a rumour passed +through the house that its young author was dead--suddenly and +mysteriously dead while the dawn of his fame was yet breaking--struck +down, some said, outside the theatre by a rival, while others +whispered that he had taken poison, but none knew for certain. +Only, as Claire passed from one heart-shaking scene to another, the +rumour grew and grew, so that when the curtain fell the audience +parted in awed and murmured speculations. + +And all the while I was kneeling beside the body of my murdered +friend. + + +A week had passed and I was standing with Claire beside Tom's grave. +We had met and spoken at the funeral, but some restraint had lain +upon our tongues. For myself, I was still as one who had sold his +brother for a price, and Claire had forborne from questioning my +grief. + +The coroner's jury had brought in a verdict of "Murder by a certain +person unknown," and now the police were occupied in following such +clues as I could give them. All the daily papers assigned robbery as +the motive, and the disappearance of Tom's watch-chain gave +plausibility to the theory. But I knew too well why that chain had +disappeared, and even in my grief found consolation in the thought of +Colliver's impotent rage when he should come to examine his prize. +I had described the face and figure of my enemy and had even +identified him with the long-missing sailor Georgio Rhodojani, so +that they promised to lay hands on him in a very short space. +But the public knew nothing of this. The only effect of the +newspapers' version of the murder was to send the town crowding in +greater numbers than ever to see the dead man's play. + +Since the first night of "Francesca," Claire and I had only met by +Tom's bedside and at his funeral. But as I entered the gloomy +cemetery that afternoon I spied a figure draped in black beside the +yet unsettled mound, and as I drew near knew it to be Claire. + +So we stood there facing one another for a full minute, at a loss for +words. A wreath of _immortelles_ lay upon the grave. In my heart I +thanked her for the gift, but could not speak. It seemed as though +the hillock that parted us were some impassable barrier to words. +Had I but guessed the truth I should have known that, unseen and +unsuspected, across that foot or two of turf was stretched a gulf we +were never more to cross: between our lives lay the body of my +friend; and not his only, but many a pallid corpse that with its mute +lips cursed our loves. + +Presently Claire raised her head and spoke. + +"Jasper, you have much to forgive me, and I hardly dare ask your +forgiveness. It is too late to ask forgiveness of a dead man, but +could he hear now I would entreat him to pardon the folly that +wrought this cruel mistake." + +"Claire, you could not know. How was it possible to guess?" + +"That is true, but it is no less cruel. And I deceived you. Can you +ever forgive?" + +"Forgive! forgive what? That I found my love peerless among women? +Oh, Claire, Claire, 'forgive'?" + +"Yes; what matters it that for the moment I have what is called fame? +I deceived you--yet, believe me, it was only because I thought to +make the surprise more pleasant. I thought--but it is too late. +Only believe I had no other thought, no other wish. My poor scheme +seemed so harmless at first: then as the days went on I began to +doubt. But until you told me, as we stood beside the river, of-- +_him_, I never guessed;--oh, believe me, I never guessed!" + +"Love, do not accuse yourself in this way. It hurts me to hear you +speak so. If there was any fault it was mine; but the Fates blinded +us. If you had known Tom, you would know that he would forgive could +he hear us now. For me, Claire, what have I to pardon?" + +Claire did not answer for a moment. There was still a trouble in her +face, as though something yet remained to be said and she had not the +courage to utter it. + +"Jasper, there is something besides, which you have to pardon if you +can." + +"My love!" + +"Do you remember what I asked you that night, when you first told me +about _him_?" + +"You asked me a foolish question, if I remember rightly. You asked +if I could ever cease to love you." + +"No, not foolish; I really meant it seriously, and I believed you +when you answered me. Are you of the same mind now? Believe me, I +am not asking lightly." + +"I answer you as I answered you then: 'Love is strong as death.' +My love, put away these thoughts and be sure that I love you as my +own soul." + +"But perhaps, even so, you might be so angry that--Oh, Jasper, how +can I tell you?" + +"Tell me all, Claire." + +"I told you I was called, or that they called me Claire. Were you +not surprised when you saw my name as Clarissa Lambert?" + +"Is that all?" I cried. "Why, of course, I knew how common it is for +actresses to take another name. I was even glad of it; for the name +I know, your own name, is now a secret, and all the sweeter so. +All the world admires Clarissa Lambert, but I alone love Claire +Luttrell, and know that Claire Luttrell loves me." + +"But that is not all," she expostulated, whilst the trouble in her +eyes grew deeper. "Oh, why will you make it so hard for me to +explain? I never thought, when I told you so carelessly on that +night when we met for the first time, that you would grow to care for +me at all. And it was the same afterwards, when I introduced you to +my mother; I gave you the name Luttrell, without ever dreaming--" + +"Was Luttrell not your mother's name?" I asked, perplexed. + +"That is the name by which she is always called now; and I am always +called Claire; in fact, it is my name, but I have another, and I +ought to have told you." + +"Why, as Claire I know you, and as Claire I shall always love you. +What does it matter if your real name be Lambert? You will change +it, love, soon, I trust." + +But my poor little jest woke no mirth in her eyes. + +"No, it is not Lambert. That is only the name I took when I went on +the stage. Nor am I called Luttrell. It is a sad story; but let me +tell it now, and put an end to all deception. I meant to do so long +ago; but lately I thought I would wait until after you had seen me on +the stage; I thought I would explain all together, not knowing +that _he_--but it has all gone wrong. Jasper, I know you will pity +poor mother, even though she had allowed you to be deceived. She has +been so unhappy. But let me tell it first, and then you will judge. +She calls herself Luttrell to avoid persecution; to avoid a man who +is--" + +"A villain, I am sure." + +"A villain, yes; but worse. He is her husband; not my father, but a +second husband. My father died when I was quite a little child, and +she married again. Ever since that day she has been miserable. +I remember her face--oh, so well! when she first discovered the real +character of the man. For years she suffered--we were abroad then-- +until at last she could bear it no longer, so she fled--fled back to +England, and took me with her. I think, but I am not sure, that her +husband did not dare to follow her to England, because he had done +something against the laws. I only guess this, for I never dare to +ask mother about him. I did so once, and shall never forget the look +of terror that came into her eyes. I only guess he has some strong +reason for avoiding England, for I remember we went abroad hastily, +almost directly after that night when mother first discovered that +she had been deceived. However that may be, we came to England, +mother and I, and changed our name to Luttrell, which was her maiden +name. After this, our life became one perpetual dread of discovery. +We were miserably poor, of course, and I was unable to do anything to +help for many years. Mother was so careful; why, she even called me +by my second name, so desperately anxious was she to hide all traces +from that man. Then suddenly we were discovered--not by him, but by +his mother, whom he set to search for us, and she--for she was not +wholly bad--promised to make my fortune on the single condition that +half my earnings were sent to him. Otherwise, she threatened that +mother should have no rest. What could I do? It was the only way to +save ourselves. Well, I promised to go upon the stage, for this +woman fancied she discovered some talent in me. Why, Jasper, how +strangely you are looking!" + +"Tell me--tell me," I cried, "who is this woman?" + +"You ought to know that, for you were in the box with her during most +of the first night of 'Francesca.'" + +A horrible, paralysing dread had seized me. + +"Her name, and his? Quick--tell me, for God's sake!" + +"Colliver. He is called Simon Colliver. But, Jasper, what is it? +What--" + +I took the chain and Golden Clasp and handed them to Claire without +speech. + +"Why, what is this?" she cried. "He has a piece exactly like this, +the fellow to it; I remember seeing it when I was quite small. +Oh, speak! what new mystery, what new trouble is this?" + +"Claire, Colliver is here in London, or was but a week ago." + +"Here!" + +"Yes, Claire; and it was he that murdered Thomas Loveday." + +"Murdered Thomas Loveday! I do not understand." She had turned +a deathly white, and spread out her hands as if for support. +"Tell me--" + +"Yes, Claire," I said, as I stepped to her, and put my arm about her; +"it is truth, as I stand here. Colliver, your mother's husband, +foully murdered my innocent friend for the sake of that piece of +gold; and more, Simon Colliver, for the sake of this same accursed +token, murdered my father!" + +"Your father!" + +She shook off my arm, and stood facing me there, by Tom's grave, with +a look of utter horror that froze my blood. + +"Yes, my father; or stay, I am wrong. Though Colliver prompted, his +was not the hand that did the deed. That he left to a poor wretch +whom he afterwards slew himself--one Railton--John Railton." + +"What!" + +"Why, Claire, Claire! What is it? Speak!" + +"I am Janet Railton!" + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +TELLS HOW THE CURTAIN FELL UPON "FRANCESCA: A TRAGEDY." + +For a moment I staggered back as though buffeted in the face, then, +as our eyes met and read in each other the desperate truth, I sprang +forward just in time to catch her as she fell. Blindly, as if in +some hideous trance, reeling and stumbling over the graves, I carried +her in my arms to the cemetery gate and stood there panting and +bewildered. + +Cold and white as marble she lay in my arms, so that for one terrible +moment I thought her dead. "Better so," my heart had cried, and then +I laughed aloud (God forgive me!) at the utter cruelty of it all. +But she was not dead. As I watched the lovely ashen face, the slow +blood came trickling back and throbbed faintly at her temples, the +light breath flickered and went and came once more. Feebly and with +wonder the dark eyes opened to the light of day, then closed again as +the lips parted in a moaning whisper. + +"Claire!" I cried, and my voice seemed to come from far away, so +hollow and unnatural was it, "I must take you to your home; are you +well enough to go?" + +I had laid her on the stone upon which the bearers were used to set +down the coffins when weary. Scarcely a week ago, poor Tom's corpse +had rested for a moment upon this grim stone. As I bent to catch the +answer, and saw how like to death her face was, I thought how well it +were for both of us, should we be resting there so together; not +leaving the acre of the dead, but entering it as rightful heirs of +its oblivion. + +After a while, as I repeated my question, the lips again parted and I +heard. + +I looked down the road. The cemetery lay far out in one of the +northern suburbs, and just now the neighbourhood seemed utterly +deserted. By good chance, however, I spied an old four-wheeler +crawling along in the distance. I ran after it, hailed it, brought +it back, and with the help of the wondering driver, placed my love +inside; then I gave the man the address, and bidding him drive with +all speed, sprang in beside Claire. + +Still faint, she was lying back against the cushion. The cab crawled +along at a snail's pace, but long as the journey was, it was passed +in utter silence. She never opened her eyes, and as for me, what +comfortable words could I speak? Yet as I saw the soft rise and fall +of her breast, I longed for words, Heaven knows how madly! But none +came, and in silence we drew up at length before a modest doorway in +Old Kensington. + +Here Claire summoned all her strength lest her mother should be +frightened. Still keeping her eyes averted, she stepped as bravely +as she could from the cab, and laid her hand upon the door-handle. + +I made as if to follow. + +"No, no," she said hastily, "leave me to myself--I will write +to-morrow and perhaps see you; but, oh, pray, not to-day!" + +Before I could answer she had passed into the house. + + +Twenty-four hours had passed and left me as they found me, in +torture. Despite my doubt, I swore she should not cast me off; then +knelt and prayed as I had never prayed before, that Heaven would deny +some of its cruelty to my darling. In the abandonment of my +supplication, I was ready to fling the secret from me and forgive +all, to forgive my father's murderer, my life-long enemy, and let him +go unsought, rather than give up Claire. Yet as I prayed, my +entreaties and my tears went up to no compassionate God, but beat +themselves upon the adamantine face of Dead Man's Rock that still +rose inexorable between me and Heaven. + +That night the crowd that gathered in the Coliseum to see the new +play, went away angry and disappointed; for Clarissa Lambert was not +acting. Another actress took her part--but how differently! And all +the while she, for whose sake they had come, was on her knees +wrestling with a grimmer tragedy than "Francesca," with no other +audience than the angels of pity. + +Twenty-four hours had passed, and found me hastening towards Old +Kensington; for in my pocket lay a note bearing only the words +"Come at 3.30--Claire," and on my heart rested a load of suspense +unbearable. For many minutes beforehand, I paced up and down outside +the house in an agony, and as my watch pointed to the half-hour, +knocked and was admitted. + +Mrs. Luttrell met me in the passage. She seemed most terribly white +and worn, so that I was astonished when she simply said, "Claire is +slightly unwell, and in fact could not act last night, but she wishes +to see you for some reason." + +Wondering why Claire's mother should look so strangely if she guessed +nothing of what had happened, but supposing illness to be the reason, +I stopped for an instant to ask. + +"Am I pale?" she answered. "It is nothing--nothing--do not take any +notice of it. I am rather weaker than usual to-day, that is all--a +mere nothing. You will find Claire in the drawing-room there." +And so she left me. + +I knocked at the drawing-room door, and hearing a faint voice inside, +entered. As I did so, Claire rose to meet me. She was very pale, +and the dark circles around her eyes told of a long vigil; but her +manner at first was composed and even cold. + +"Claire!" I cried, and stretched out my hands. + +"Not yet," she said, and motioned me to a chair. "I sent for you +because I have been thinking of--of--what happened yesterday, and I +want you to tell me all; the whole story from beginning to end." + +"But--" + +"There is no 'but' in the case, Jasper. I am Janet Railton, and you +say that my father killed yours. Tell me how it was." + +Her manner was so calm that I hesitated at first, bewildered. +Then, finding that she waited for me to speak, I sat down facing her +and began my story. + +I told it through, without suppression or concealment, from the time +when my father started to seek the treasure, down to the cowardly +blow that had taken my friend's life. During the whole narrative she +never took her eyes from my face for more than a moment. Her very +lips were bloodless, but her manner was as quiet as though I were +reading her some story of people who had never lived. Once only she +interrupted me. I was repeating the conversation between her father +and Simon Colliver upon Dead Man's Rock. + +"You are quite sure," she asked, "of the words? You are positive he +said, 'Captain, it was your knife'?" + +"Certain," I answered sadly. + +"You are giving the very words they both used?" + +"As well as I can remember; and I have cause for a good memory." + +"Go on," she replied simply. + +So I unrolled the whole chronicle of our unhappy fates, and even read +to her Lucy Railton's letter which I had brought with me. Then, as I +ceased, for full a minute we sat in absolute silence, reading each +other's gaze. + +"Let me see the letter," she said, and held out her hand for it. + +I gave it to her. She read it slowly through and handed it back. + +"Yes, it is my mother's letter," she said, slowly. + +Then again silence fell upon us. I could hear the clock tick slowly +on the mantelpiece, and the beating of my own heart that raced and +outstripped it. That was all; until at length the slow, measured +footfall of the timepiece grew maddening to hear; it seemed a symbol +of the unrelenting doom pursuing us, and I longed to rise and break +it to atoms. + +I could stand it no longer. + +"Claire, tell me that this will not--cannot alter you--that you are +mine yet, as you were before." + +"This is impossible," she said, very gravely and quietly. + +"Impossible? Oh, no, no, do not say that! You cannot, you must not +say that!" + +"Yes, Jasper," she repeated, and her face was pallid as snow; "it is +impossible." + +But as I heard my doom, I arose and fought it with blind despair. + +"Claire, you do not know what you are saying. You love me, Claire; +you have told me so, and I love you as my very soul. Surely, then, +you will not say this thing. How were we to know? How could you +have told? Oh, Claire! is it that you do not love me?" + +Her eyes were full of infinite compassion and tenderness, but her +lips were firm and cold. + +"You know that I love you." + +"Then, oh, my love! how can this come between us? What does it +matter that our fathers fought and killed each other, if only we +love? Surely, surely Heaven cannot fix the seal of this crime upon +us for ever? Speak, Claire, and tell me that you will be mine in +spite of all!" + +"It cannot be," she answered, very gently. + +"Cannot be!" I echoed. "Then I was right, and you do not love, but +fancied that you did for a while. Love, love, was that fair? +No power on earth--no, nor in heaven--should have made me cast you +off so." + +My rage died out before the mute reproach of those lovely eyes. +I caught the white hand. + +"Forgive me, Claire; I was desperate, and knew not what I was saying. +I know you love me--you have said so, and you are truth itself; truth +and all goodness. But if you have loved, then you can love me still. +Remember our text, Claire, 'Love is strong as death.' Strong as +death, and can it be overcome so easily?" + +She was trembling terribly, and from the little hand within mine I +could feel her agitation. But though the soft eyes spoke appealingly +as they were raised in answer, I could see, behind all their anguish, +an immutable resolve. + +"No, Jasper; it can never be--never. Do you think I am not +suffering--that it is nothing to me to lose you? Try to think better +of me. Oh, Jasper, it is hard indeed for me, and--I love you so." + +"No, no," she went on; "do not make the task harder for me. Why can +you not curse me? It would be easier then. Why can you not hate me +as you ought? Oh, if you would but strike me and go, I could better +bear this hour!" + +There was such abandonment of entreaty in her tones that my heart +bled for her; yet I could only answer-- + +"Claire, I will not give you up; not though you went on your knees +and implored it. Death alone can divide us now; and even death will +never kill my love." + +"Death!" she answered. "Think, then, that I am dead; think of me as +under the mould. Ah, love, hearts do not break so easily. You would +grieve at first, but in a little while I should be forgotten." + +"Claire!" + +"Forgive me, love; not forgotten. I wronged you when I said the +word. Believe me, Jasper, that if there be any gleam of day in the +blackness that surrounds me it is the thought that you so love me; +and yet it would have been far easier otherwise--far easier." + +Little by little my hope was slipping from me; but still I strove +with her as a man battles for his life. I raved, protested, called +earth and heaven to witness her cruelty; but all in vain. + +"It would be a sin--a horrible sin!" she kept saying. "God would +never forgive it. No, no; do not try to persuade me--it is +horrible!" and she shuddered. + +Utterly beaten at last by her obstinacy, I said-- + +"I will leave you now to think it over. Let me call again and hear +that you repent." + +"No, love; we must never meet again. This must be our last good-bye. +Stay!" and she smiled for the first time since that meeting in the +cemetery. "Come to 'Francesca' to-night; I am going to act." + +"What! to-night?" + +"Yes. One must live, you see, even though one suffers. See, I have +a ticket for you--for a box. You will come? Promise me." + +"Never, Claire." + +"Yes, promise me. Do me this last favour; I shall never ask +another." + +I took the card in silence. + +"And now," she said, "you may kiss me. Kiss me on the lips for the +last time, and may God bless you, my love." + +Quite calmly and gently she lifted her lips to mine, and on her face +was the glory of unutterable tenderness. + +"Claire! My love, my love!" My arms were round her, her whole form +yielded helplessly to mine, and as our lips met in that one +passionate, shuddering caress, sank on my breast. + +"You will not leave me?" I cried. + +And through her sobs came the answer-- + +"Yes, yes; it must be, it must be." + +Then drawing herself up, she held out her hand and said-- + +"To-night, remember, and so--farewell." + +And so, in the fading light of that grey December afternoon I left +her standing there. + + +Mad and distraught with the passion of that parting, I sat that +evening in the shadow of my box and waited for the curtain to rise +upon "Francesca." The Coliseum was crowded to the roof, for it was +known that Clarissa Lambert's illness had been merely a slight +indisposition, and to-night she would again be acting. I was too +busy with my own hard thoughts to pay much attention at first, but I +noticed that my box was the one nearest to the stage, in the tier +next above it. So that once more I should hear my darling's voice, +and see her form close to me. Once or twice I vaguely scanned the +audience. The boxes opposite were full; but, of course, I could see +nothing of my own side of the theatre. After a moment's listless +glance, I leaned back in the shadow and waited. + +I do not know who composed the overture. It is haunted by one +exquisite air, repeated, fading into variations, then rising once +more only to sink into the tender sorrow of a minor key. I have +heard it but twice in my life, but the music of it is with me to this +day. Then, as I heard it, it carried me back to the hour when Tom +and I sat expectant in this same theatre, he trembling for his play's +success, I for the sight of my love. Poor Tom! The sad melody +wailed upwards as though it were the voice of the wind playing about +his grave, every note breathing pathos or suspiring in tremulous +anguish. Poor Tom! Yet your love was happier than mine; better to +die with Claire's kiss warm upon the lips than to live with but the +memory of it. + +The throbbing music had ended, and the play began. As before, the +audience were without enthusiasm at first, but to-night they knew +they had but to wait, and they did so patiently; so that when at last +Claire's voice died softly away at the close of her opening song, the +hushed house was suddenly shaken to its roof with the storm and +tumult of applause. + +There she stood, serene and glowing, as one that had never known +pain. My very eyes doubted. On her face was no sign of suffering, +no trace of a tear. Was she, then, utterly without heart? In my +memory I retraced the scene of that afternoon, and all my reason +acquitted her. Yet, as she stood there in her glorious epiphany, +illumined with the blazing lights, and radiant in the joy and +freshness of youth, I could have doubted whether, after all, Clarissa +Lambert and Claire Luttrell were one and the same. + +There was one thing which I did not fail, however, to note as +strange. She did not once glance in the direction of my box, but +kept her eyes steadily averted. And it then suddenly dawned upon me +that she must be playing with a purpose; but what that purpose was I +could not guess. + +Whatever it was, she was acting magnificently and had for the present +completely surrendered herself to her art. Grand as that art had +been on the first night of "Francesca," the power of that performance +was utterly eclipsed to-night. Once between the acts I heard two +voices in the passage outside my box-- + +"What do you think of it?" said the first. + +"What can I?" answered the other. "And how can I tell you? It is +altogether above words." + +He was right. It was not so much admiration as awe and worship that +held the house that night. I have heard a man say since that he +wonders how the play could ever have raised anything beyond a laugh. +He should have heard the sobs that every now and then would break +uncontrollably forth, even whilst Claire was speaking. He should +have felt the hush that followed every scene before the audience +could recollect itself and pay its thunderous tribute. + +Still she never looked towards me, though all the while my eyes were +following my lost love. Her purpose--and somehow in my heart I grew +more and more convinced that some purpose lay beneath this +transcendent display--was waiting for its accomplishment, and in the +ringing triumph of her voice I felt it coming nearer--nearer--until +at last it came. + +The tragedy was nearly over. Francesca had dismissed her old lover +and his new bride from their captivity and was now left alone upon +the stage. The last expectant hush had fallen upon the house. +Then she stepped slowly forward in the dead silence, and as she spoke +the opening lines, for the first time our eyes met. + + "Here then all ends:--all love, all hate, all vows, + All vain reproaches. Aye, 'tis better so. + So shall he best forgive and I forget, + Who else had chained him to a life-long curse, + Who else had sought forgiveness, given in vain + While life remained that made forgiveness dear. + Far better to release him--loving more + Now love denies its love and he is free, + Than should it by enjoyment wreck his joy. + Blighting his life for whom alone I lived. + + "No, no. As God is just, it could not be. + Yet, oh, my love, be happy in the days + I may not share, with her whose present lips + Usurp the rights of my lost sovranty. + I would not have thee think--save now and then + As in a dream that is not all a dream-- + On her whose love was sunshine for an hour, + Then died or e'er its beams could blast thy life. + Be happy and forget what might have been, + Forget my dear embraces in her arms, + My lips in hers, my children in her sons, + While I-- + Dear love, it is not hard to die + Now once the path is plain. See, I accept + And step as gladly to the sacrifice + As any maid upon her bridal morn-- + One little stroke--one tiny touch of pain + And I am quit of pain for evermore. + It needs no bravery. Wert thou here to see, + I would not have thee weep, but look--one stroke, + And thus--" + +What was that shriek far back there in the house? What was that at +sight of which the audience rose white and aghast from their seats? +What was it that made Sebastian as he entered rush suddenly forward +and fall with awful cry before Francesca's body? What was that +trickling down the folds of her white dress? Blood? + +Yes, blood! In an instant I put my hand upon the cushion of the box, +vaulted down to the stage and was kneeling beside my dying love. +But as the clamorous bell rang down the curtain, I heard above its +noise a light and silvery laugh, and looking up saw in the box next +to mine the coal-black devilish eyes of the yellow woman. + +Then the curtain fell. + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +TELLS HOW TWO VOICES LED ME TO BOARD A SCHOONER; AND WHAT BEFELL +THERE. + +She died without speech. Only, as I knelt beside her and strove to +staunch that cruel stream of blood, her beautiful eyes sought mine in +utter love and, as the last agony shook her frame, strove to rend the +filmy veil of death and speak to me still. Then, with one long, +contented sigh, my love was dead. It was scarcely a minute before +all was over. I pressed one last kiss upon the yet warm lips, +tenderly drew her white mantle across the pallid face, and staggered +from the theatre. + +I had not raved or protested as I had done that same afternoon. +Fate had no power to make me feel now; the point of anguish was +passed, and in its place succeeded a numb stupidity more terrible by +far, though far more blessed. + +My love was dead. Then I was dead for any sensibility to suffering +that I possessed. Hatless and cloak-less I stepped out into the +freezing night air, and regardless of the curious looks of the +passing throng I turned and walked rapidly westward up the Strand. +There was a large and eager crowd outside the Coliseum, for already +the news was spreading; but something in my face made them give room, +and I passed through them as a man in a trance. + +The white orb of the moon was high in heaven; the frozen pavement +sounded hollow under-foot; the long street stood out, for all its +yellow gas-light, white and distinct against the clear air; but I +marked nothing of this. I went westward because my home lay +westward, and some instinct took my hurrying feet thither. I had no +purpose, no sensation. For aught I knew, that night London might +have been a city of the dead. + +Suddenly I halted beneath a lamp-post and began dimly to think. +My love was dead:--that was the one fact that filled my thoughts at +first, and so I strove to image it upon my brain, but could not. +But as I stood there feebly struggling with the thought another took +its place. Why should I live? Of course not; better end it all at +once--and possessed with this idea I started off once more. + +By degrees, as I walked, a plan shaped itself before me. I would go +home, get my grandfather's key, together with the tin box containing +my father's Journal, and then make for the river. That would be an +easy death, and I could sink for ever, before I perished, all trace +of the black secret which had pursued my life. I and the mystery +would end together--so best. Then, without pain, almost with ghastly +merriment, I thought that this was the same river which had murmured +so sweetly to my love. Well, no doubt its voice would be just as +musical over my grave. The same river:--but nearer the sea now-- +nearer the infinite sea. + +As I reflected, the idea took yet stronger possession of me. Yes, it +was in all respects the best. The curse should end now. "Even as +the Heart of the Ruby is Blood and its Eyes a Flaming Fire, so shall +it be for them that would possess it: Fire shall be their portion and +Blood their inheritance for ever." For ever? No: the river should +wash the blood away and quench the fire. Then arose another text and +hammered at the door of my remembrance. "Many waters cannot quench +love, neither can the floods drown it." "Many waters"--"many +waters":--the words whispered appealingly, invitingly, in my ears. +"Many waters." My feet beat a tune to the words. + +I reached my lodgings, ran upstairs, took out the key and the tin +box, and descended again into the hall. My landlord was slipping +down the latch. He stared at seeing me. + +"Do not latch the door just yet: I am going out again," I said +simply. + +"Going out! I thought, sir, it was you as just now come in." + +"Yes, but I must go out again:--it is important." + +He evidently thought me mad; and so indeed I was. + +"What, sir, in that dress? You've got no hat--no--" + +I had forgotten. "True," I said; "get me a hat and coat." + +He stared and then ran upstairs for them. Returning he said, "I have +got you these, sir; but I can't find them as you usually wears." + +"Those will do," I answered. "I must have left the others at the +theatre." + +This reduced him to utter speechlessness. Mutely he helped me to don +the cloak over my thin evening dress. I slipped the tin box and the +key into the pockets. As I stepped out once more into the night, my +landlord found his speech. + +"When will you be back, sir?" + +The question startled me for a moment; for a second or two I +hesitated. + +"I asked because you have no latch-key, as I suppose you left it in +your other coat. So that--" + +"It does not matter," I answered. "Do not sit up. I shall not be +back before morning;" and with that I left him still standing at the +door, and listening to my footsteps as they hurried down the street. + +"Before morning!" Before morning I should be in another world, if +there were another world. And then it struck me that Claire and I +might meet. She had taken her own life and so should I. But no, +no--Heaven would forgive her that; it could not condemn my saint to +the pit where I should lie: it could not be so kindly cruel; and then +I laughed a loud and bitter laugh. + +Still in my dull stupor I found myself nearing the river. I have not +mentioned it before, but I must explain now, that during the summer I +had purchased a boat, in which my Claire and I were used to row idly +between Streatley and Pangbourne, or whithersoever love guided our +oars. This boat, with the approach of winter, I had caused to be +brought down the river and had housed in a waterman's shed just above +Westminster, until the return of spring should bring back once more +the happy days of its employment. + +In my heart I blessed the chance that had stored it ready to my hand. + +Stumbling through dark and tortuous streets where the moon's frosty +brilliance was almost completely hidden, I came at last to the +waterman's door and knocked. He was in bed and for some time my +summons was in vain. At last I heard a sound in the room above, the +window was let down and a sulky voice said, "Who's there?" + +"Is that you, Bagnell?" I answered. "Come down. It is I, Mr. +Trenoweth, and I want you." + +There was a low cursing, a long pause broken by a muttered dispute +upstairs, and then the street door opened and Bagnell appeared with a +lantern. + +"Bagnell, I want my boat." + +"To-night, sir? And at this hour?" + +"Yes, to-night. I want it particularly." + +"But it is put away behind a dozen others, and can't be got." + +"Never mind. I will help if you want assistance, but I must have +it." + +Bagnell looked at me for a minute and I could see that he was cursing +under his breath. + +"Is it serious, sir? You're not--" + +"I am not drunk, if that is what you mean, but perfectly serious, and +I must have my boat." + +"Won't another do as well?" + +"No, it will not." I felt in my pockets and found two sovereigns and +a few shillings. "Look here," I said, "I will give you two pounds if +you get this boat out for me." + +This conquered his reluctance. He stared for a moment as I mentioned +the amount, and then hastily deciding that I was stark mad, but that +it was none of his business, put on his hat and led the way down to +his boat-yard. + +Stumbling in the uncertain light over innumerable timbers, spars, and +old oars, we reached the shed at length and together managed, after +much delay, to get out the light boat and let her down to the water. +I gave him the two sovereigns as well as the few shillings that +remained in my pocket, and as I descended, reflected grimly that +after all they were better in his possession; the man who should find +my body would have so much the less spoil. We had scarcely spoken +whilst we were getting the boat out, and what words we used were +uttered in that whisper which night always enforces; but as I +clambered down (for the tide was now far out) and Bagnell passed down +the sculls, he asked-- + +"When will you be back, sir?" + +The same question! I gave it the same answer. "Not before morning," +I said, and with a few strokes was out upon the tide and pulling down +the river. I saw him standing there above in the moonlight, still +wondering, until he faded in the dim haze behind. My boat was a +light Thames dingey, so that although I felt the tide running up +against me, it nevertheless made fair progress. What decided me to +pull against the tide rather than float quietly upwards I do not know +to this day. So deadened and vague was all my thought, that it +probably never occurred to me to correct the direction in which the +first few strokes had taken me. I was conscious of nothing but a row +of lights gliding past me on either hand, of here and there a tower +or tall building, that stood up for an instant against the sky and +then swam slowly out of sight, of the creaking of my sculls in the +ungreased rowlocks, and, above all, the white shimmer of the moon +following my boat as it swung downwards. + +I remember now that, in a childish way, I tried to escape this +persistent brilliance that still clung to my boat's side with every +stroke I took; that somehow a dull triumph possessed me when for a +moment I slipped beneath the shadow of a bridge, or crept behind a +black and silent hull. All this I can recall now, and wonder at the +trivial nature of the thought. Then I caught the scent of white +rose, and fell to wondering how it came there. There had been the +same scent in the drawing-room that afternoon, I remembered, when +Claire had said good-bye for ever. How had it followed me? +After this I set myself aimlessly to count the lights that passed, +lost count, and began again. And all the time the white glimmer hung +at my side. + +I was still wrapped up in my cloak, though the cape was flung back to +give my arms free play. Rowing so, I must quickly have been warm; +but I felt it no more than I had felt the cold as I walked home from +the theatre. My boat was creeping along the Middlesex shore, by the +old Temple stairs, and presently threaded its way through more +crowded channels, and passed under the blackness of London Bridge. + +How far below this I went, I cannot clearly call to mind; of +distance, as well as of time, I had lost all calculation. +I recollect making a circuit to avoid the press of boats waiting for +the early dawn by Billingsgate Market, and have a vision of the White +Tower against the heavens. But my next impression of any clearness +is that of rowing under the shadow of a black three-masted schooner +that lay close under shore, tilted over on her port side in the low +water. As my dingey floated out again from beneath the overhanging +hull, I looked up and saw the words, _Water-Witch_, painted in white +upon her pitch-dark bows. + +By this time I was among the tiers of shipping. I looked back over +my shoulder, and saw their countless masts looming up as far as eye +could see in the dim light, and their lamps flickering and wavering +upon the water. I rowed about a score of strokes, and then stopped. +Why go further? This place would serve as well as any other. No one +was likely to hear my splash as I went overboard, and even if heard +it would not be interpreted. I was still near enough to the +Middlesex bank to be out of the broad moonlight that lit up the +middle of the river. I took the tin box out of my cloak and stowed +it for a moment in the stern. I would sink it with the key before I +flung myself in. So, pulling the key out of the other pocket, I took +off the cloak, then my dress-coat and waistcoat, folded them +carefully, and placed them on the stern seat. This done, I slipped +the key into one pocket of my trousers, my watch and chain into the +other. I would do all quietly and in order, I reflected. I was +silently kicking off my shoes, when a thought struck me. In my last +struggles it was possible that the desire of life would master me, +and almost unconsciously I might take to swimming. In the old days +at Lizard Town swimming had been as natural to me as walking, and I +had no doubt that as soon as in the water I should begin to strike +out. Could I count upon determination enough to withhold my arms and +let myself slowly drown? + +Here was a difficulty; but I resolved to make everything sure. +I took my handkerchief out of the coat pocket, and bent down to tie +my feet firmly together. All this I did quite calmly and +mechanically. As far as one can be certain of anything at this +distance of time, I am certain of this, that no thought of hesitation +came into my head. It was not that I overcame any doubts; they never +occurred to me. + +I was stooping down, and had already bound the handkerchief once +around my ankles, when my boat grated softly against something. +I looked up, and saw once more above me a dark ship's hull, and right +above my head the white letters, _Water-Witch_. + +This would never do. My boat had drifted up the river again with the +tide, stern foremost, but a little aslant, and had run against the +warp by the schooner's bows. I must pull out again, for otherwise +the people on board would hear me. I pushed gently off from the warp +and took the sculls, when suddenly I heard voices back towards the +stern. + +My first impulse was to get away with all speed, and I had already +taken half a stroke, when something caused my hands to drop and my +heart to give one wild leap. + +What was it? Something in the voices? Yes; something that brushed +my stupor from me as though it were a cobweb; something that made me +hush my breath, and strain with all my ears to listen. + +The two voices were those of man and woman, They were slightly +raised, as if in a quarrel; the woman's pleading and entreating, the +man's threatening and stern. But that was not the reason that +suddenly set my heart uncontrollably beating and all the blood +rushing and surging to my temples. + +For in those two voices I recognised Mrs. Luttrell and Simon +Colliver! + +"Have you not done enough?" the woman's voice was saying. "Has your +cruelty no end, that you must pursue me so? Take this money, and let +me go." + +"I must have more," was the answer. + +"Indeed, I have no more just now. Go, only go, and I will send you +some. I swear it." + +"I cannot go," said the man. + +"Why?" + +"Never mind. I am watched." Here the voice muttered some words +which I could not catch. "So that unless you wish to see your +husband swing--and believe me, my confession and last dying speech +would not omit to mention the kind aid I had received from you and +Clar-" + +"Hush! oh, hush! If I get you this money, will you leave us in peace +for a time? Knowing your nature, I will not ask for pity--only for a +short respite. I must tell Claire, poor girl; she does not know +yet--" + +Quite softly my boat had drifted once more across the schooner's +bows. I pulled it round until its nose touched the anchor chain, and +made the painter fast. Then slipping my hand up the chain, I stood +with my shoeless feet upon the gunwale by the bows. Still grasping +the chain, I sprang and swung myself out to the jib-boom that, with +the cant of the vessel, was not far above the water: then pressed my +left foot in between the stay and the brace, while I hung for a +moment to listen. + +They had not heard, for I could still catch the murmur of their +voices. The creak of the jib-boom and the swish of my own boat +beneath had frightened me at first. It seemed impossible that it +should not disturb them. But after a moment my courage returned, and +I pulled myself up on to the bowsprit, and lying almost at full +length along it, for fear of being spied, crawled slowly along, and +dropped noiselessly on to the deck. + +They were standing together by the mizzen-mast, he with his back +turned full towards me, she less entirely averted, so that I could +see a part of her face in the moonlight, and the silvery gleam of her +grey hair. Yes, it was they, surely enough; and they had not seen +me. My revenge, long waited for, was in my grasp at last. + +Suddenly, as I stood there watching them, I remembered my knife--the +blade which had slain my father. I had left it below--fool that I +was!--in the tin box. Could I creep back again, and return without +attracting their attention? Should I hazard the attempt for the sake +of planting that piece of steel in Simon Colliver's black heart? + +It was a foolish thought, but my whole soul was set upon murder now, +and the chance of slaying him with the very knife left in my father's +wound seemed too dear to be lightly given up. Most likely he was +armed now, whilst I had no weapon but the naked hand. Yet I did not +think of this. It never even occurred to me that he would defend +himself. Still, the thought of that knife was sweet to me as I +crouched there beneath the shadow of the bulwarks. Should I go, or +not? I paused for a moment, undecided; then rose slowly erect. + +As I did so Mrs. Luttrell turned for an instant and saw me. + +As I stood there, bareheaded, with the moonlight shining full upon my +white shirt-sleeves, I must have seemed a very ghost; for a look of +abject terror swept across her face; her voice broke off and both her +hands were flung up for mercy-- + +"Oh, God! Look! look!" + +As I rushed forward he turned, and then, with the spring of a wild +cat, was upon me. Even as he leapt, my foot slipped upon the greasy +deck; I staggered backward one step--two steps--and then fell with a +crash down the unguarded forecastle ladder. + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +TELLS IN WHAT MANNER I LEARNT THE SECRET OF THE GREAT KEY. + +As my senses came gradually back I could distinguish a narrow, dingy +cabin, dimly lit by one flickering oil-lamp which swung from a rafter +above. Its faint ray just revealed the furniture of the room, which +consisted of a seaman's chest standing in the middle, and two gaunt +stools. On one of these I was seated, propped against the cabin +wall, or rather partition, and as I attempted to move I learnt that I +was bound hand and foot. + +On the other stool opposite me and beside the chest, sat Simon +Colliver, silently eyeing me. The lamplight as it flared and +wavered cast grotesque and dancing shadows of the man upon the wall +behind, made of his matted hair black eaves under which his eyes +gleamed red as fire, and glinted lastly upon something bright lying +on the chest before him. + +For a minute or so after my eyes first opened no word was said. +Still dizzy with my fall, I stared for a moment at the man, then at +the chest, and saw that the bright objects gleaming there were my +grandfather's key and my watch-chain, at the end of which hung the +Golden Clasp. But now the clasp was fitted to its fellow and the +whole buckle lay united upon the board. + +Though the bonds around my arms, wrists, and ankles caused me +intolerable pain, yet my first feeling was rather of abject +humiliation. To be caught thus easily, to be lying here like any +rat in a gin! this was the agonising thought. Nor was this all. +There on the chest lay the Golden Clasp united at last--the work +completed which was begun with that unholy massacre on board the +_Belle Fortune_. I had played straight into Colliver's hand. + +He was in no hurry, but sat and watched me there with those +intolerably evil eyes. His left hand was thrust carelessly into his +pocket, and as he tilted back upon the stool and surveyed me, his +right was playing with the clasp upon the chest. As I painfully +turned my head a drop of blood came trickling down into my eyes from +a cut in my forehead; I saw, however, that the door was bolted. +An empty bottle and a plate of broken victuals lay carelessly thrust +in a corner, and a villainous smell from the lamp filled the whole +room and almost choked me; but the only sound in the dead stillness +of the place was the monotonous tick-tick of my watch as it lay upon +the chest. + +How long I had lain there I could not guess, but I noticed that the +floor slanted much less than when I first scrambled on deck, so +guessed that the tide must have risen considerably. Then having +exhausted my wonder I looked again at Colliver, and began to +speculate how he would kill me and how long he would take about it. + +I found his wolfish eyes still regarding me, and for a minute or two +we studied each other in silence. Then without removing his gaze he +tilted his stool forward, slowly drew a short heavy knife from his +waist-band, slipped it out of its sheath--still without taking his +left hand from his pocket--laid it on the table and leant back again. + +"I suppose," he said at last and very deliberately as if chewing his +words, "you know that if you attempt to cry out or summon help, you +are a dead man that instant." + +"Well, well," he continued, after waiting a moment for my reply, +"as long as you understand that, it does not matter. I confess I +should have preferred to talk with you and not merely to you. +However, before I kill you--and I suppose you guess that I am going +to kill you as soon as I've done with you--I wish to have just a +word, Master Jasper Trenoweth." + +From the tone in which he said the words he might have been +congratulating me on some great good fortune. He paused awhile as if +to allow the full force of them to sink in, and then took up the +Golden Clasp. Holding the pieces together with the fore-finger and +thumb of his right hand, he advanced and thrust it right under my +sight-- + +"Do you see that? Can you read it?" + +As I was still mute he walked back to the chest and laid the clasp +down again. + +"Aha!" he exclaimed with a short laugh horrible to hear, "you won't +speak. But there have been times, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth, when you +would have given your soul to lay hands upon this piece of gold and +read what is written upon it. It is a pity your hands are tied--a +thousand pities. But I do not wish to be hard on you, and so I don't +mind reading out what is written here. The secret will be safe with +you, don't you see? Quite--safe--with--you." + +He rolled out these last words, one by one, with infinite relish; and +the mockery in the depths of those eyes seared me far more than my +bonds. After watching the effect of his taunt he resumed his seat +upon the stool, pulled the clasp towards him and said-- + +"People might call me rash for entrusting these confidences to you. +But I do not mind admitting that I owe you some reparation--some +anterior reparation. So, as I don't wish you to die cursing me, I +will be generous. Listen!" + +He held the buckle down upon the table and read out the inscription +as follows:-- + + + START AT FULL MOON END SOUTH. + + POINT 27 FEET N.N.W. 22 FEET. + + W. OF RING NORTH SIDE 4. + + FEET 6 INCHES DEEP AT POINT. + + OF MEETING LOW WATER 1.5 HOURS. + +He read it through twice very slowly, and each time as he ceased +looked up to see how I took it. + +"It does not seem to make much sense, does it?" he asked. "But wait +a moment and let me parcel it out into sentences. I should not like +you to miss any of its meaning. Listen again." He divided the +writing up thus:-- + + "Start at full moon. + End South Point 27 feet N.N.W. + 22 feet W. of Ring. North Side. + 4 feet 6 inches deep at point of meeting. + Low water 1.5 hours." + +"You still seem puzzled, Mr. Trenoweth. Very well, I will even go on +to explain further. The person who engraved this clasp meant to tell +us that something--let us say treasure, for sake of argument--could +be found by anyone who drew two lines from some place unknown: one 27 +feet in length in direction N.N.W. from the South Point of that +place; the other 22 feet due West of a certain Ring on the North +side of that same place. So far I trust I make my meaning clear. +That which we have agreed to call the treasure lies buried at a depth +of 4 feet 6 inches on the spot where these two lines intersect. +But the person (you or I, for the sake of argument) who seeks this +treasure must start at full moon. Why? Obviously because the spring +tides occur with a full moon, consequently the low ebb. We must +expect, then, to find our treasure buried in a spot which is only +uncovered at dead low water; and to this conclusion I am also helped +by the last sentence, which says, 'Low water 1.5 hours.' It is then, +I submit, Mr. Trenoweth, in some such place that we must look for our +treasure; the only question being, 'Where is that place?'" + +I was waiting for this, and a great tide of joy swept over me as I +reflected that after all he had not solved the mystery. The clasp +told nothing, the key told nothing. The secret was safe as yet. + +He must have read my thoughts, for he looked steadily at me out of +those dark eyes of his, and then said very slowly and deliberately-- + +"Mr. Trenoweth, it grieves me to taunt your miserable case; but do +you mind my saying that you are a fool?" + +I simply stared in answer. + +"Your father was a fool--a pitiful fool; and you are a fool. +Which would lead me, did I not know better, to believe that your +grandfather, Amos Trenoweth, was a fool also. I should wrong him if +I called him that. He was a villain, a black-hearted, murderous, +cold-blooded, damnable villain; but he was only a fool for once in +his life, and that was when he trusted in the sense of his +descendants." + +His voice, as he spoke of my grandfather, grew suddenly shrill and +discordant, while his eyes blazed up in furious wrath. In a second +or two, however, he calmed himself again and went on quietly as +before. + +"You wonder, perhaps, why I call you a fool. It is because you have +lived for fourteen years with your hand upon riches that would make a +king jealous, and have never had the sense to grasp them; it is +because you have shut your eyes when you might have seen, have been a +beggar when you might have ridden in a carriage. Upon my word, Mr. +Jasper Trenoweth, when I think of your folly I have half a mind to be +dog-sick with you myself." + +What could the man mean? What was this clue which I had never found? + +"And all the time it was written upon this key here, as large as +life; not only that, but, to leave you no excuse, Amos Trenoweth +actually told you that it was written here." + +"What do you mean?" stammered I, forced into speech at last. + +"Ah! so you have found your voice, have you? What do I mean? Do you +mean to say you do not guess even now? Upon my word, I am loth to +kill so fair a fool." He regarded me for a moment with pitying +contempt, then stretched out his hand and took up my grandfather's +key. + +"I read here," he said, "written very clearly and distinctly, certain +words. You must know those words; but I will repeat them to you to +refresh your memory:--" + + "THY HOUSE IS SET UPON THE SANDS. AND THY HOPES BY A DEAD MAN." + +"Well?" I asked, for--fool that I was--even yet I did not understand. + +"Mr. Jasper Trenoweth, did you ever hear tell of such a place as Dead +Man's Rock?" + +The truth, the whole horrible certainty of it, struck me as one great +wave, and rushed over my bent head as with the whirl and roar of many +waters. "Dead Man's Rock!" "Dead Man's Rock!" it sang in my ears as +it swept me off my feet for a moment and passed, leaving me to sink +and battle in the gulf of bottomless despair. And then, as if I +really drowned, my past life with all its follies, mistakes, wrecked +hopes and baseless dreams, shot swiftly past in one long train. +Again I saw my mother's patient, anxious smile, my father's drowned +face with the salt drops trickling from his golden hair, the struggle +on the rock, the inquest, the awful face at the window, the corpses +of my parents stretched side by side upon the bed, the scene in the +gambling-hell with all its white and desperate faces, Claire, my lost +love, the river, the theatre, Tom's death, and that last dreadful +scene, Francesca with the dark blood soaking her white dress and +trickling down upon the boards. I tried to put my hands before my +eyes, but the cords held and cut my arms like burning steel. Then in +a flash I seemed to be striding madly up and down Oxford Street, +while still in front of me danced and flew the yellow woman, her +every diamond flashing in the gas-light, her cold black eyes, as they +turned and mocked me, blazing marsh-lights of doom. Then came the +ringing of many bells in my ears, mingled with silvery laughter, as +though the fiends were ringing jubilant peals within the pit. + +Presently the sights grew dim and died away, but the chiming laughter +still continued. + +I looked up. It was Colliver laughing, and his face was that of an +arch-devil. + +"It does me good to see you," he explained; "oh, yes, it is honey to +my soul. Fool! and a thousand times fool! that ever I should have +lived to triumph thus over you and your accursed house!" + +Once more his voice grew shrill and his eyes flashed; once more he +collected himself. + +"You shall hear it out," he said. "Look here!" and he pulled a +greasy book from his pocket. "Here is a nautical almanack. What day +is it? December 23rd, or rather some time in the morning of December +24th, Christmas Eve. On the evening of December 24th it is full +moon, and dead low water at Falmouth about 11.30 p.m. Fate (do you +believe in fate, Mr. Trenoweth?) could not have chosen the time +better. In something under twenty hours one of us will have his +hands upon the treasure. Which will it be, eh? Which will it be?" + +Well I knew which it would be, and the knowledge was bitter as gall. + +"A merry Christmas, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth! Peace on earth and +good-will--You will bear no malice by that time. So a merry +Christmas, and a merry Christmas-box! likewise the compliments of the +season, and a happy New Year to you! Where are you going to spend +Christmas, Mr. Trenoweth--eh? I am thinking of passing it by the +sea. You will, perhaps, try the sea too, only you will be _in_ it. +Thames runs swiftly when it has a corpse for cargo. Oho! + + "At his red, red lips the merrymaid sips + For the kiss that his sweetheart stole, my lads-- + Sing ho! for the bell shall toll! + +"I'm afraid no bell will toll for you, Mr. Trenoweth; not yet awhile +at any rate. Not till your sweetheart is weary of waiting-- + + "And the devil has got his due, my lads-- + Sing ho! but he waits for you! + +"Both waiting for you, Mr. Trenoweth, your sweetheart and the devil-- +which shall have you? 'Ladies first,' you would say. Aha! I am not +so sure. By the way, might I give a guess at your sweetheart's name? +Might it begin with a C? Might she be a famous actress? Claire +perhaps she calls herself? Aha! Claire's pretty eyes will go red +with watching before she sets them on you again. Fie on you to keep +so sweet a maiden waiting! And where will you be all the time, Mr. +Jasper Trenoweth?" + +He stopped at last, mastered by his ferocity and almost panting. But +I, for the sound of Claire's name had maddened me, broke out in +fury-- + +"Dog and devil! I shall be lying with all the other victims of your +accursed life; dead as my father whom you foully murdered within +sight of his home; dead as those other poor creatures you slew upon +the _Belle Fortune_; dead as my mother whose pure mind fled at sight +of your infernal face, whose very life fled at sight of your +handiwork; dead as John Railton whom you stabbed to death upon--" + +"Hush, Mr. Trenoweth! As for your ravings, I love to hear them, and +could listen by the hour, did not time press. But I cannot have you +talking so loudly, you understand;" and he toyed gently with his +knife; "also remember I must be at Dead Man's Rock by half-past +eleven to-night." + +"Fiend!" I continued, "you can kill me if you like, but I will count +your crimes with my last breath. Take my life as you took my friend +Tom Loveday's life--Tom whom you knifed in the dark, mistaking him +for me. Take it as you took Claire's, if ever man--" + +"Claire--Claire dead!" He staggered back a step, and almost at the +same moment I thought I caught a sound on the other side of the +partition at my back. I listened for a moment, then concluding that +my ears had played me some trick, went on again-- + +"Yes, dead--she killed herself to-night at the theatre--stabbed +herself--oh, God! Do you think I care for your knife now? +Why, I was going to kill myself, to drown myself, at the very moment +when I heard your voice and came on board. I came to kill you. +Make the most of it--show me no mercy, for as there is a God in +heaven I would have shown you none!" + +What was that sound again on the other side of the partition? +Whatever it was, Colliver had not heard, for he was musing darkly and +looking fixedly at me. + +"No, I will show you no mercy," he answered quietly, "for I have +sworn to show no mercy to your race, and you are the last of it. +But listen, that for a few moments before you die you may shake off +your smug complacency and learn what this wealth is, and what kind of +brood you Trenoweths are. Dog! The treasure that lies by Dead Man's +Rock is treasure weighted with dead men's curses and stained with +dead men's blood--wealth won by black piracy upon the high seas--gold +for which many a poor soul walked the plank and found his end in the +deep waters. It is treasure sacked from many a gallant ship, +stripped from many a rotting corpse by that black hound your +grandfather, Amos Trenoweth. You guessed that? Let me tell you +more. + +"There is many a soul crying in heaven and hell for vengeance on your +race; but your death to-night, Jasper Trenoweth, shall be the +peculiar joy of one. You guessed that your grandfather had crimes +upon his soul; but you did not guess the blackest crime on his +account--the murder of his dearest friend. Listen. I will be brief +with you, but I cannot spare myself the joy of letting you know this +much before you die. Know then that when your grandfather was a rich +man by this friend's aid--after, with this friend's help, he had laid +hands on the secret of the Great Ruby for which for many a year he +had thirsted, in the moment of his triumph he turned and slew that +friend in order to keep the Ruby to himself. + +"That fool, your father, kept a Journal--which no doubt you have read +over and over again. Did he tell you how I caught him upon Adam's +Peak, sitting with this clasp in his hands before a hideous, graven +stone? That stone was cut in ghastly mockery of that friend's face; +the bones that lay beneath it were the bones of that friend. +There, on that very spot where I met your father face to face, did +his father, Amos Trenoweth, strike down my father Ralph Colliver. + +"Ah, light is beginning to dawn on your silly brain at last! +Yes, pretending to protect the old priest who had the Ruby, he +stabbed my father with the very knife found in your father's heart, +stabbed him before his wife's eyes on that little lawn upon the +mountain-side; and, when my helpless mother called vengeance upon +him, handed the still reeking knife to her and bade her do her worst. +Ah, but she kept that knife. Did you mark what was engraved upon the +blade? That knife had a good memory, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth. + +"Let me go on. As if that deed were not foul enough, he caused the +old priest to carve--being skilful with the chisel--that vile +distortion of his dead friend's face out of a huge boulder lying by, +and then murdered him too for the Ruby's sake, and tumbled their +bodies into the trough together. Such was Amos Trenoweth. Are you +proud of your descent? + +"I never saw my father. I was not born until three months after +this, and not until I was ten years old did my mother tell me of his +fate. + +"Your grandfather was a fool, Jasper Trenoweth, to despise her; for +she was young then and she could wait. She was beautiful then, and +Amos Trenoweth himself had loved her. What is she now? Speak, for +you have seen her." + +As he spoke I seemed to see again that yellow face, those awful, +soulless eyes, and hear her laugh as she gazed down from the box upon +my dying love. + +"Ah, beauty goes. It went for ever on that day when Amos Trenoweth +spat in her face and taunted her as she clung to the body of her +husband. Beauty goes, but revenge can wait; to-night it has come; +to-night a thousand dead men's ghosts shall be glad, and point at +your body as it goes tossing out to sea. To-night--but let me tell +the rest in a word or two, for time presses. How I was brought up, +how my mad mother--for she is mad on every point but one--trained me +to the sea, how I left it at length and became an attorney's clerk, +all this I need not dwell upon. But all this time the thought of +revenge never left me for an hour; and if it had, my mother would +have recalled it. + +"Well, we settled in Plymouth and I was bound a clerk to your +grandfather's attorney, still with the same purpose. There I learnt +of Amos Trenoweth's affairs, but only to a certain extent; for of the +wealth which he had so bloodily won I could discover nothing; and yet +I knew he possessed riches which make the heart faint even to think +upon. Yet for all I could discover, his possessions were simply +those of a struggling farmer, his business absolutely nothing. +I was almost desperate, when one day a tall, gaunt and aged man +stepped into the office, asked for my employer, and gave the name of +Amos Trenoweth. Oh, how I longed to kill him as he stood there! +And how little did he guess that the clerk of whom he took no more +notice than of a stone, would one day strike his descendants off the +face of the earth and inherit the wealth for which he had sold his +soul--the great Ruby of Ceylon! + +"My voice trembled with hate as I announced him and showed him into +the inner room. Then I closed the door and listened. He was uneasy +about his Will--the fool--and did not know that all his possessions +would necessarily become his son's. In my heart I laughed at his +ignorance; but I learnt enough--enough to wait patiently for years +and finally to track Ezekiel Trenoweth to his death. + +"It was about this time that I fell in love. In this as in +everything through life I have been cursed with the foulest luck, but +in this as in everything else my patience has won in the end. Lucy +Luttrell loved another man called Railton--John Railton. He was +another fool--you are all fools--but she married him and had a +daughter. I wonder if you can guess who that daughter was?" + +He broke off and looked at me with fiendish malice. + +"You hound!" I cried, "she was Janet Railton--Claire Luttrell; and +you murdered her father as you say Amos Trenoweth murdered yours." + +"Right," he answered coolly. "Quite right. Oh, the arts by which I +enticed that man to drink and then to crime! Even now I could sit +and laugh over them by the hour. Why, man, there was not a touch of +guile in the fellow when I took him in hand, and yet it was he that +afterwards took your father's life. He tried it once in Bombay and +bungled it sadly: he did it neatly enough, though, on the jib-boom of +the _Belle Fortune_. I lent him the knife: I would have done it +myself, but Railton was nearer; and besides it is always better to be +a witness." + +What _was_ that rustling sound behind the partition? Colliver did +not hear it, at any rate, but went on with his tale, and though his +eyes were dancing flames of hate his voice was calm now as ever. + +"I had stolen half the clasp beforehand from the cabin floor where +that stupendous idiot, Ezekiel Trenoweth, had dropped it. Railton +caught him before he dropped, but I did not know he had time to get +the box away, for just then a huge wave broke over us and before the +next we both jumped for the Rock. I thought that Railton must have +been sucked back, for I only clung on myself by the luckiest chance. +It was pitch-dark and impossible to see. I called his name, but he +either could not hear for the roar, or did not choose to answer, so +after a bit I stopped. I thought him dead, and he no doubt thought +me dead, until we met upon Dead Man's Rock. + +"Shall I finish? Oh, yes, you shall hear the whole story. After the +inquest I escaped back to Plymouth, told Lucy that her husband had +been drowned at sea, and finally persuaded her to leave Plymouth and +marry me. So I triumphed there, too: oh, yes, I have triumphed +throughout." + +"You hound!" I cried. + +He laughed a low musical laugh and went on again-- + +"Ah, yes, you are angry of course; but I let that pass. I have one +account to settle with you Trenoweths, and that is enough for me. +Three times have I had you in my power, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth--three +times or four--and let you escape. Once beneath Dead Man's Rock when +I had my fingers on your young weasand and was stopped by those +cursed fishermen. Idiots that they were, they thought the sight of +me had frightened you and made you faint. Faint! You would have +been dead in another half-minute. How I laughed in my sleeve while +that uncle of yours was trying to make me understand--me--what was my +name then?--oh, ay, Georgio Rhodojani. However, you escaped that +time: and once more you hardly guessed how near you were to death, +when I looked in at the window on the night after the inquest. +Why, in my mind I was tossing up whether or not I should murder you +and your white-faced mother. I should have done so, but thought you +might hold some knowledge of the secret after your meeting with +Railton, so that it seemed better to bide my time." + +"If it be any satisfaction to you," I interrupted, "to know that had +you killed me then you would never have laid hands on that clasp +yonder, you are welcome to it." + +"It is," he answered. "I am glad I did not kill you both: it left +your mother time to see her dead husband, and has given me the +pleasure of killing you now: the treat improves with keeping. +Well, let me go on. After that I was forced to leave the country for +some time--" + +"For another piece of villainy, which your wife discovered." + +"How do you know that? Oh, from Claire, I suppose: however, it does +not matter. When I came back I found you: found you, and struck +again. But again my cursed luck stood in my way and that damned +friend of yours knocked me senseless. Look at this mark on my +cheek." + +"Look at the clasp and you will see where your blow was struck." + +"Ah, that was it, was it?" he said, examining the clasp slowly. +"I suppose you thought it lucky at the time. So it was--for me. +For, though I made another mistake in the fog that night, I got quits +with your friend at any rate. I have chafed often enough at these +failures, but it has all come right in the end. I ought to have +killed your father upon Adam's Peak; but he was a big man, while I +had no pistol and could not afford to risk a mistake. Everything, +they say, comes to the man who can wait. Your father did not escape, +neither will you, and when I think of the joy it was to me to know +that you and Claire, of all people--" + +But I would hear no more. Mad as I was with shame and horror for my +grandfather's cruelty, I knew this man, notwithstanding his talk of +revenge, to be a vile and treacherous scoundrel. So when he spoke of +Claire I burst forth-- + +"Dog, this is enough! I have listened to your tale. But when you +talk of Claire--Claire whom you killed to-night--then, dog, I spit +upon you; kill me, and I hope the treasure may curse you as it has +cursed me; kill me; use your knife, for I _will_ shout--" + +With a dreadful snarl he was on me and smote me across the face. +Then as I continued to call and shout, struck me one fearful blow +behind the ear. I remember that the dim lamp shot out a streak of +blood-red flame, the cabin was lit for one brief instant with a flash +of fire, a thousand lights darted out, and then--then came utter +blackness--a vague sensation of being caught up and carried, of +plunging down--down-- + + + +CHAPTER XI. AND LAST. + + +TELLS HOW AT LAST I FOUND MY REVENGE AND THE GREAT RUBY. + +"Speak--speak to me! Oh, look up and tell me you are not dead!" + +Down through the misty defiles and dark gates of the Valley of the +Shadow of Death came these words faintly as though spoken far away. +So distant did they seem that my eyes opened with vague expectation +of another world; opened and then wearily closed again. + +For at first they stared into a heaven of dull grey, with but a +shadow between them and colourless space. Then they opened once +more, and the shadow caught their attention. What was it? Who was +I, and how came I to be staring upward so? I let the problem be and +fell back into the easeful lap of unconsciousness. + +Then the voice spoke again. "He is living yet," it said. "Oh, if he +would but speak!" + +This time I saw more distinctly. Two eyes were looking into mine--a +woman's eyes. Where had I seen that face before? Surely I had known +it once, in some other world. Then somehow over my weary mind stole +the knowledge that this was Mrs. Luttrell--or was it Claire? +No, Claire was dead. "Claire--dead," I seemed to repeat to myself; +but how dead or where I could not recall. "Claire--dead;" then this +must be her mother, and I, Jasper Trenoweth, was lying here with +Claire's mother bending over me. How came we so? What had happened, +that--and once more the shadow of oblivion swept down and enfolded +me. + +She was still there, kneeling beside me, chafing my hands and every +now and then speaking words of tender solicitude. How white her hair +was! It used not to be so white as this. And where was I lying? +In a boat? How my head was aching! + +Then remembrance came back. Strange to tell, it began with Claire's +death in the theatre, and thence led downwards in broken and +interrupted train until Colliver's face suddenly started up before +me, and I knew all. + +I raised myself on my elbow. My brain was throbbing intolerably, and +every pulsation seemed to shoot fire into my temples. Also other +bands of fire were clasped about my arms and wrists. So acutely did +they burn that I fell back with a low moan and looked helplessly at +Mrs. Luttrell. + +Although it had been snowing, her bonnet was thrust back from her +face and hung by its ribbons which were tied beneath her chin. +The breeze was playing with her disordered hair--hair now white as +the snow-flakes upon it, though grey when last I had seen it--but it +brought no colour to her face. As she bent over me to place her +shawl beneath my head, I saw that her blue eyes were strangely bright +and prominent. + +"Thank God, you are alive! Does the bandage pain you? Can you +move?" + +I feebly put my hand up and felt a handkerchief bound round my head. + +"I was afraid--oh, so afraid!--that I had been too late. Yet God +only knows how I got down into your boat--in time--and without his +seeing me. I knew what he would do--I was listening behind the +partition all the time; but I was afraid he would kill you first." + +"Then--you heard?" + +"I heard all. Oh, if I were only a man--but can you stand? Are you +better now? For we must lose no time." + +I weakly stared at her in answer. + +"Don't you see? If you can stand and walk, as I pray you can, there +is no time to be lost. Morning is already breaking, and by this +evening you must catch him." + +"Catch him?" + +"Yes, yes. He has gone--gone to catch the first train for Cornwall, +and will be at Dead Man's Rock to-night. Quick! see if you cannot +rise." + +I sat up. The water had dripped from me, forming a great pool at our +end of the boat. In it she was kneeling, and beside her lay a heavy +knife and the cords with which Simon Colliver had bound me. + +"Yes," I said, "I will follow. When does the first train leave +Paddington?" + +"At a quarter past nine," she answered, "and it is now about +half-past five. You have time to catch it; but must disguise +yourself first. He will travel by it, there is no train before. +Come, let me row you ashore." + +With this she untied the painter, got out the sculls, sat down upon +the thwart opposite, and began to pull desperately for shore. +I wondered at her strength and skill with the oar. + +"Ah," she said, "I see at what you are wondering. Remember that I +was a sailor's wife once, and without strength how should I have +dragged you on board this boat?" + +"How did you manage it?" + +"I cannot tell. I only know that I heard a splash as I waited under +the bows there, and then began with my hands to fend the boat around +the schooner for dear life. I had to be very silent. At first I +could see nothing, for it was dark towards the shore; but I cried to +Heaven to spare you for vengeance on that man, and then I saw +something black lying across the warp, and knew it was you. I gave a +strong push, then rushed to the bows and caught you by the hair. +I got you round by the stern as gently as I could, and then pulled +you on board somehow--I cannot remember exactly how I did it." + +"Did he see you?" + +"No, for he must have gone below directly. I rowed under the shadow +of the lighter to which we were tied just now, and as I did so, +thought I heard him calling me by name. He must have forgotten me, +and then suddenly remembered that as yet I had not given him the +money. However, presently I heard him getting into his boat and +rowing ashore. He came quite close to us--so close that I could hear +him cursing, and crouched down in the shadow for fear of my life. +But he passed on, and got out at the steps yonder. It was snowing at +the time and that helped me." + +She pulled a stroke or two in silence, and then continued-- + +"When you were in the cabin together I was listening. At one point I +think I must have fainted; but it cannot have been for long, for when +I came to myself you were still talking about--about John Railton." + +I remembered the sound which I had heard, and almost in spite of +myself asked, "You heard about--" + +"Claire? Yes, I heard." She nodded simply; but her eyes sought mine, +and in them was a gleam that made me start. + +Just then the boat touched at a mouldering flight of stairs, crusted +with green ooze to high-water mark, and covered now with snow. +She made fast the boat. + +"This was the way he went," she muttered. "Track him, track him to +his death; spare him no single pang to make that death miserable!" +Her low voice positively trembled with concentrated hate. +"Stay," she said, "have you money?" + +I suddenly remembered that I had given all the money on me to Bagnell +for getting out my boat, and told her so. At the same moment, too, +I thought upon the tin box still lying under the boat's stern. +I stepped aft and pulled it out. + +"Here is money," she said; "money that I was to have given him. +Fifty pounds it is, in notes--take it all." + +"But you?" I hesitated. + +"Never mind me. Take it--take it all. What do I want with money if +only you kill him?" + +I bent and kissed her hand. + +"As Heaven is my witness," I said, "it shall be his life or mine. +The soul of one of us shall never see to-morrow." + +Her hand was as cold as ice, and her pale face never changed. + +"Kill him!" she said, simply. + +I turned, and climbed the steps. By this time day had broken, and +the east was streaked with angry flushes of crimson. The wind swept +through my dripping clothes and froze my aching limbs to the marrow. +Up the river came floating a heavy pall of fog, out of which the +masts showed like grisly skeletons. The snow-storm had not quite +ceased, and a stray flake or two came brushing across my face. +So dawned my Christmas Eve! + +As I gained the top, I turned to look down. She was still standing +there, watching me. Seeing me look, she waved her arms, and I heard +her hoarse whisper, "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" + +I left her standing so, and turned away; but in the many ghosts that +haunt my solitary days, not the least vivid is the phantom of this +white-haired woman on the black and silent river, eternally +beckoning, "Kill him!" + +I found myself in a yard strewn with timber, spars and refuse, half +hidden beneath the snow. From it a flight of rickety stone steps led +to a rotting door, and thence into the street. Here I stood for a +moment, pondering on my next step. Not a soul was abroad so early; +but I must quickly get a change of clothes somewhere; at present I +stood in my torn dress trousers and soaked shirt. I passed up the +street, my shoeless feet making the first prints in the newly-fallen +snow. The first? No; for when I looked more closely I saw other +footprints, already half obliterated, leading up the street. +These must be Simon Colliver's. I followed them for about a hundred +yards past the shuttered windows. + +Suddenly they turned into a shop door, and then seemed to leave it +again. The shop was closed, and above it hung three brass balls, +each covered now with a snowy cap. Above, the blinds were drawn +down, but on looking again, I saw a chink of light between the +shutters. I knocked. + +After a short pause, the door was opened. A red-eyed, villainous +face peered out, and seeing me, grew blank with wonder. + +"What do you want?" inquired at length the voice belonging to it. + +"To buy a fresh suit of clothes. See, I have fallen into the river." + +Muttering something beneath his breath, the pawnbroker opened his +door, and let me into the shop. + +It was a dingy nest, fitted up with the usual furniture of such a +place. The one dim candle threw a ghostly light on chairs, clocks, +compasses, trinkets, saucepans, watches, piles of china, and suits of +left-off clothes arrayed like rows of suicides along the wall. +A general air of decay hung over the den. Immediately opposite me, +as I entered, a stuffed parrot, dropping slowly into dust, glared at +me with one malevolent eye of glass, while a hideous Chinese idol, +behind the counter, poked out his tongue in a very frenzy of +malignity. But my eye wandered past these, and was fixed in a moment +upon something that glittered upon the counter. That something was +my own watch. + +Following my gaze, the man gave me a quick, suspicious glance, +hastily caught up the watch, and was bestowing it on one of his +shelves, when I said-- + +"Where did you get that?" + +"Quite innocently, sir, I swear. I bought it of a gentleman who came +in just now, and would not pawn it. I thought it was his, so that if +you belong to the Force, I hope--" + +"Gently, my friend," said I; "I am not in the police, so you need not +be in such a fright. Nevertheless, that watch is mine; I can tell +you the number, if you don't believe it." + +He pushed the watch across to me and said, still greatly frightened-- + +"I am sure you may see it, sir, with all my heart. I wouldn't for +worlds--" + +"What did you give for it?" + +He hesitated a moment, and then, as greed overmastered fear, +replied-- + +"Fifteen pounds, sir; and the man would not take a penny less. +Fifteen good pounds! I swear it, as I am alive!" + +Although I saw that the man lied, I drew out three five-pound notes, +laid them on the table, and took my watch. This done, I said-- + +"Now I want you to sell me a suit of clothes, and aid me to disguise +myself. Otherwise--" + +"Don't talk, sir, about 'otherwise.' I'm sure I shall only be too +glad to rig you out to catch the thief. You can take your pick of +the suits here; they are mostly seamen's, to be sure; but you'll find +others as well. While as for disguises, I flatter myself that for +getting up a face--" + +Here he stopped suddenly. + +"How long has he been gone?" + +"About half an hour, sir, before you came. But no doubt you know +where he'd be likely to go; and I won't be more than twenty minutes +setting you completely to rights." + +In less than half an hour afterwards, I stepped out into the street +so completely disguised that none of my friends--that is, if I had +possessed a friend in the world--would have recognised me. I had +chosen a sailor's suit, that being the character I knew myself best +able to sustain. My pale face had turned to a bronze red, while over +its smoothly-shaven surface now grew the roughest of untrimmed +beards. Snow was falling still, so that Colliver's footprints were +entirely obliterated. But I wanted them no longer. He would be at +Paddington, I knew; and accordingly I turned my feet in that +direction, and walked rapidly westward. + +My chase had begun. I had before me plenty of time in which to reach +Paddington, and the exercise of walking did me good, relaxing my +stiffened limbs until at length I scarcely felt the pain of the weals +where the cords had cut me. It was snowing persistently, but I +hardly noticed it. Through the chill and sullen morning I held +doggedly on my way, past St. Katharine's Wharf, the Tower, through +Gracechurch Street, and out into St. Paul's Churchyard. Traffic was +already beginning here, and thickened as I passed down Ludgate Hill +and climbed up to Holborn. Already the white snow was being churned +and trodden into hideous slush in which my feet slipped and stumbled. +My coat and sailor's cap were covered with powdery flakes, and I had +to hold my head down for fear lest the drifting moisture should wash +any of the colouring off my face. So my feet carried me once more +into Oxford Street. How well remembered was every house, every +lamp-post, every flag of the pavement almost! I was on my last quest +now. + +"To-night! to-night!" whispered my heart: then came back the words of +Claire's mother--"Kill him! Kill him!" and still I tramped westward, +as westward lay my revenge. + +Suddenly a hansom cab shot past me. It came up silently on the +slushy street, and it was only when it was close behind that I heard +the muffled sound of its wheels. It was early yet for cabs, so that +I turned my head at the sound. It passed in a flash, and gave me but +a glimpse of the occupant: but in that moment I had time to catch +sight of a pair of eyes, and knew now that my journey would not be in +vain. They were the eyes of Simon Colliver. + +So then in Oxford Street, after all, I had met him. He was cleverly +disguised--as I guessed, by the same hands that had painted my own +face--and looked to the casual eye but an ordinary bagman. But art +could not change those marvellous eyes, and I knew him in an instant. +My heart leapt wildly for a moment--my hands were clenched and my +teeth shut tight; but the next, I was plodding after him as before. +I could wait now. + +Before I reached Paddington I met the cab returning empty, and on +gaining the station at first saw nothing of my man. Though as yet it +was early, the platform was already crowded with holiday-makers: a +few country dames laden with countless bundles, careworn workers +preparing to spend Christmas with friends or parents in their village +home, a sprinkling of schoolboys chafing at the slowness of the +clock. After a minute or so, I spied Simon Colliver moving among +this happy and innocent crowd like an evil spirit. I flung myself +down upon a bench, and under pretence of sleeping, quietly observed +him. Once or twice, as he passed to and fro before me, he almost +brushed my knee, so close was he--so close that I had to clutch the +bench tightly for fear I should leap up and throttle him. He did not +notice me. Doubtless he thought me already tossing out to sea with +the gulls swooping over me, and the waves merrily dashing over my +dead face. The waiting game had changed hands now. + +I heard him demand a ticket for Penryn, and, after waiting until he +had left the booking office, took one myself for the same station. +I watched him as he chose his compartment, and then entered the next. +It was crowded, of course, with holiday-seekers; but the only person +that I noticed at first was the man sitting directly opposite to me-- +an honest, red-faced countryman, evidently on his way home from town, +and at present deeply occupied with a morning paper which seemed to +have a peculiar fascination for him, for as he raised his face his +round eyes were full of horror. I paid little attention to him, +however, but, having the corner seat facing the engine, watched to +see that Colliver did not change his compartment. He did not appear +again, and in a minute or two the whistle shrieked and we were off. + +At first the countryman opposite made such a prodigious to-do with +his piece of news that I could not help watching him. Then my +attention wandered from him to the country through which we were +flying. Slowly I pondered over the many events that had passed +since, not many months before, I had travelled up from Cornwall to +win my fortune. My fortune! To what had it all come? I had won a +golden month or two of love, and lo! my darling was dead. Dead also +was the friend who had travelled up with me, so full of boyish hope: +both dead; the one in the full blaze of her triumph, the other in the +first dawn of his young success: both dead--and, but for me, both +living yet and happy. + +Suddenly the countryman looked up and spoke. + +"Hav'ee seen this bit o' news? Astonishin'! And her so pretty too!" + +"What is it?" I asked vacantly. + +For answer he pushed the paper into my hands, and with his thumb-nail +pointed to a column headed "TERRIBLE TRAGEDY IN A THEATRE." + +"An' to think," he continued reflectively, "as how I saw her wi' my +own eyes but three nights back--an' actin' so pretty, too! Lord! +It made me cry like any sucking child: beautiful it was--just +beau-ti-ful! Here's a story to tell my missus!" + +I took the paper and read-- + + "TERRIBLE TRAGEDY IN A THEATRE. SUICIDE OF A FAMOUS ACTRESS.-- + Last evening, the performance of the new and popular tragedy, + _Francesca_, at the Coliseum, was interrupted by a scene + perhaps the most awful that has ever been presented to the + play-going public. A sinister fate seems to have pursued this + play from the outset. It will be within the memory of all that + its young and gifted author was, on the very night of its + production, struck down suddenly in the street by an unknown + hand which the police have not yet succeeded in tracing. + Last night's tragedy was even more terrible. Clarissa Lambert, + whose name--" + +But I wanted to read no more. To the countryman's astonishment the +paper slipped from my listless fingers, and once more my gaze turned +to the carriage window. On we tore through the snow that raced +horizontally by the pane, through the white and peaceful country-- +homeward. Homeward to welcome whom? Whom but the man now sitting, +it might be, within a foot of me? To my heart I hugged the thought +of him, sitting there and gloating over the morrow. + +The morrow! Somehow my own horizon did not stretch as far: it was +bounded by to-night. Before to-morrow one of us two should be a dead +man; perhaps both. So best: the world with its loves and hatreds +would end to-night. So westward we sped in the grey light beneath +which the snowy fields gleamed unnaturally--westward while the sun +above showed only as a crimson ball, an orb of blood, travelling +westward too. At Bristol it glared through a murky veil of smoke, at +Exeter and through the frozen pastures and leafless woodlands of +Devon dropped swiftly towards my goal, beckoning with blood-stained +hand across the sky. Past the angry sea we tore, and then again into +the whitened fields now growing dim in the twilight. In the carriage +the talk was unceasing--talk of home, of expectant friends, of +Christmas meetings and festivities. Every station was thronged, and +many a happy welcome I witnessed as I sat there with no friend but +hate. Friends! What had I to do with such? I had a friend once, +but he was dead. Friend, parents, love--all dead by one man's hand, +and he--But a little while now; but a little while! + +We reached Plymouth shortly after five--the train being late--and +here the crowd in the carriages grew greater. It was dark, but the +moon was not yet up--the full moon by which the treasure was to be +sought. How slowly the train dragged through Cornwall! It would be +eight before we reached Penryn, and low water was at half-past +eleven. Should we be in time? + +The snow had ceased to fall: a clear north-east wind had chased the +clouds from heaven, and scarcely had we passed Saltash before a +silver rim came slowly rising above the black woods on the river's +opposite bank. Clear into the frosty night it rose, and I fell to +wondering savagely with what thoughts Colliver saluted it. + +It was already half-past eight as we changed our train at Truro, and +here again more time was wasted. Upon the platform I saw him again. +He was heavily cloaked and muffled now, for it was freezing hard; but +beneath the low brim of his hat I saw the deep, black eyes gleaming +with impatience. So at last once more we started. + +"Penryn!" + +I looked at my watch. It was nine o'clock; more than an hour and a +half late. By the light from the carriage window I saw him step out +into the shadow of the platform. I followed. Here also was a large +crowd bound for Helston, and the coach that waited outside was +quickly thronged inside and out. Colliver was outside the station in +a moment, and in another had jumped into a carriage waiting there +with two horses, and was gone up the hill beneath the shadow of the +bridge. In my folly I had forgotten that he might have telegraphed +for horses to meet him. However, the coach was fast and I could post +from Helston. I clambered up to the top, where for want of a better +seat I propped myself up on a pile of luggage, and waited whilst box +after box, amid vociferous cursing, was piled up beside me. +At length, just as I was beginning to despair of ever starting at +all, with a few final curses directed at the bystanders generally, +the driver mounted the box, shook his reins, and we were off. + +The load was so heavy that at first five horses were used, but we +left one with his postillion at the top of the hill and swung down at +a canter into the level country. The snow lay fairly deep, and the +horses' hoofs were soundless as we plunged through the crisp and +tingling air. The wind raced past me as I sat perched on my rickety +seat, swaying wildly with every lurch of the coach. With every gust +I seemed to drink in fresh strength and felt the very motion and +swiftness enter into my blood. Across the white waste we tore, up a +stiff ascent and down across the moorland again--still westward; and +now across the stretches of the moor I could catch the strong scent +of the sea upon the wind. Along the level we sped, silent and swift +beneath the moon. Here a white house by the roadside glimmered out +and was gone; there a mine-chimney shot up against the sky and faded +back again. We were going now at a gallop, and from my perch I could +see the yellow light of the lamps on the sweating necks of the +leaders. + +There was a company of sailors with me on the coach-top--smoking, +talking, and shouting. Once or twice one of them would address a +word or two to me, but got scanty answers. I was looking intently +along the road for a sign of Colliver's carriage. He must have +ordered good horses, for I saw no sign of him as yet. Stay! As we +swept round a sharp corner and swung on to the straight road again, I +thought I spied far in front a black object moving on the universal +white. Yes, it must be he: and again on the wings of the wind I +heard the call, "To-night! to-night! Kill him! kill him! kill--" + +Crash! With a heavy and sickening lurch sideways, the coach hung for +an instant, tottered, and then plunged over on its side, flinging me +clear of the luggage which pounded and rattled after. As I struggled +to my feet, half dazed, I saw a confused medley of struggling horses, +frightened passengers and scattered boxes. Collecting my senses I +rushed to help those inside the coach and then amid the moaning, +cursing and general dismay, sought out my bundle, grasped it tightly +and set off at a run down the heavy road. I could wait now for no +man. + +Panting, spent, my sore limbs weighted with snow, I gained the top of +the hill and plunged down the steep street into Helston. There, at +"the Angel" I got a post-chaise and pair, and set off once more. +At first, seeing my dress and wondering what a sailor could want with +post-chaises at that hour, they demurred, but the money quickly +persuaded them. They told me also that a gentleman had changed +horses there about half an hour before and gone towards the Lizard, +after borrowing a pickaxe and spade. Half an hour: should I yet be +in time? + +I leant back in the chaise and pondered. I knew by heart the +shortest cuts across the downs. When I reached them I would stop +the carriage and take to my feet once more. The fresh horses +were travelling fast, and as we drew near the sea I dimly noted a +hundred familiar landmarks, and in each a fresh memory of Tom. +How affectionately we had taken leave of them, one by one, on our +journey to London! Now each seemed to cry, "What have you done with +your friend?" This was my home-coming. + +At the beginning of the downs I stopped the carriage, paid and +dismissed the astonished post-boy and started off alone at a swinging +trot across the snow. Southward hung the white moon, now high in +heaven. It must be almost time. Along the old track I ran, still +clutching my bundle, over the frozen ruts, stumbling, slipping, but +with set teeth and straining muscles, skirted the hill above +Polkimbra with just a glimpse of the cottage roofs shining in the +hollow below, and raced along the cliffs towards Lantrig. I guessed +that Colliver would come across Polkimbra Beach, so had determined to +approach the rock from the northern side, over Ready-Money Cove. + +Lantrig, my old home, was merrily lit up this Christmas Eve, and the +sight of it gave me one swift, sharp pang of anguish as I stole +cautiously downwards to the sands. At the cliff's foot I paused and +looked across the Cove. + +Sable and gloomy as ever, Dead Man's Rock soared up against the moon, +the grim reality of that dark shadow which had lain upon all my +life. From it had my hate started; to it was I now at the last +returning. There it stood, the stern warder of that treasure for +which my grandfather had sold his soul, my father had given his life, +and I had lost all that made both life and soul worth having. +"Blood shall be their inheritance, and Fire their portion for ever." +The curse had lain upon us all. + +Creeping along the shadow, I crossed the little Cove and peered +through the archway on to Polkimbra Sands, now sparkling in the +moonlight. + +Not a soul in sight! As far as eye could see the beach was utterly +deserted and peaceful. I stepped down to a small pool, left by the +receding tide in the rock's shadow, removed my false hair and beard, +and carefully washed away all traces of paint from my face. +This done, I slipped off my shoes and holding them with the bundle in +my right hand, began softly and carefully to ascend the rock. +I gained the first ledge; crept out along it as far as the ring +mentioned on the clasp, and then began to climb again. This needed +care, for the ascent on the north side was harder at first than on +the other, and I could use but one hand with ease. Slowly, however, +and with effort I pulled myself up and then stole out towards the +face until I could command a view of Polkimbra Beach. Still I could +see nobody, only the lights of the little church-town twinkling +across the beach and, far beyond, the shadowy cliffs of Kynance. +I pulled out my watch. It was close on half-past eleven, the hour of +dead low water. + +As I looked up again I thought I saw a speck approaching over the +sands. Yes, I was not mistaken. I set my teeth and crouched down +nearer to the rock. Over the sands, beneath the shadow of the cliffs +he came, and as he drew nearer, I saw that he carried something on +his shoulder, doubtless the spade and pickaxe. A moment more and he +turned to see that no one was following. As he did so, the moon +shone full in his face, and I saw, stripped now of all disguises, the +features of my enemy. + +I opened the tin box and took out my knife. I had caused the thin +sharp blade, found in my dead father's heart, to be fitted to a horn +handle into which it shut with an ordinary spring-clasp. As I opened +it, the moonlight glittered down the steel and lit up the letters +"Ricordati." + +Still in the shadow, he crept down by the rock, and once more looked +about him. No single soul was abroad at that hour to see; none but +the witness crouching there above. I gripped the knife tighter as he +disappeared beneath the ledge on which I hung. + +A low curse or two, and then silence. I held my breath and waited. +Presently he reappeared, with compass in one hand and measuring-tape +in the other, and stood there for a moment looking about him. +Still I waited. + +About forty feet from the breakers now crisply splashing on the sand, +Dead Man's Rock suddenly ended on the southern side in a thin black +ridge that broke off with a drop of some ten feet. This ridge was, +of course, covered at high water, and upon it the _Belle Fortune_ had +doubtless struck before she reeled back and settled in deep water. +This was the "south point" mentioned on the clasp. Fixing his +compass carefully, he drew out the tape, and slowly began to measure +towards the north-west. "End South Point, 27 feet," I remembered +that the clasp said. He measured it out to the end, and then, +digging with his heel a small hole in the sand, began to walk back +towards the rock, this time to the north side. And still I waited. + +Again I could hear him searching for the mark--an old iron ring, once +used for mooring boats--and cursing because he could not find it. +After a minute or two, however, he came into sight again, drawing his +line now straight out from the cliff, due west. He was very slow, +and every now and then, as he bent over his task, would look swiftly +about him with a hunted air, and then set to work again. Still there +was no sight but the round moon overhead, the sparkling stretch of +sand, and the gleam of the waves as they broke in curving lines of +silver: no sound but the sigh of the night breeze. + +Apparently his measurements were successful, for the tape led him +once more to the hole he had marked in the sand. He paused for a +moment or two, drew out the clasp, which shot out a sudden gleam as +he turned it in his hand, and consulted it carefully. Presumably +satisfied, he walked back to the rock to fetch his tools. And still +I crouched, waiting, with knife in hand. + +Arrived once more at the point where the two lines met, he threw a +hasty glance around, and began to dig rapidly. He faced the sea now, +and had his back turned to me, so that I could straighten myself up, +and watch at greater ease. He dug rapidly, and the pit, as his spade +threw out heap after heap of soft sand, grew quickly bigger. +If treasure really lay there, it would soon be disclosed. + +Presently I heard his spade strike against something hard. Surely he +had not yet dug deeply enough. The clasp had said "four feet six +inches," and the pit could not yet be more than three feet in depth. +Colliver bent down and drew something out, then examined it intently. +As I strained forward to look, he half turned, and I saw between his +hands--a human skull. Whose? Doubtless, some victim's of those many +that went down in the _Belle Fortune_; or perhaps the skull of John +Railton, sunk here above the treasure to gain which he had taken the +lives of other men and lost in the end his own. It was a grisly +thought, but apparently troubled Colliver little, for with a jerk of +his arm he sent it bowling down the sands towards the breakers. +A bound or two, a splash, and it was swallowed up once more by the +insatiate sea. + +With this he fell to digging anew, and I to watching. For a full +twenty minutes he laboured, flinging out the sand to right and left, +and every now and then stopping for a moment to measure his progress. +By this time, I judged, he must have dug below the depth pointed out +upon the clasp, for once or twice he drew it out and paused in his +work to consult it. + +He was just resuming, after one of these rests, when his spade grated +against something. He bent low to examine it, and then began to +shovel out the sand with inconceivable rapidity. + +The treasure was found! + +Like a madman he worked: so that even from where I stood I could hear +his breath coming hard and fast. At length, with one last glance +around, he knelt down and disappeared from my view. My time was +come. + +Knife in hand, I softly clambered down the south side of the rock, +and dropped upon the sand. + +The pit lay rather to the north, so that by creeping behind the ridge +on the south side I could get close up to him unobserved, even should +he look. But he was absorbed now in his prize, so that I stole +noiselessly out across the strip of sand between us until within +about ten feet of him; then, on hands and knees, I crawled and pulled +myself to the trench's lip and peered over. + +There, below me, within grasp, he sat, his back still turned towards +me. The moon was full in front, so that it cast no shadow of me +across him. There he sat, and in front of him lay, imbedded in the +sand, a huge iron chest, bound round with a broad band of iron, and +secured with an enormous padlock. On the rusty top I could even +trace the rudely-cut initials A. T. + +I held my breath as he drew from his pocket my grandfather's key and +inserted it in the lock, after first carefully clearing away the +sand. The stubborn lock creaked heavily as at last and with +difficulty he managed to turn the key. And still I knelt above him, +knife in hand. + +Then, with a long, shuddering sigh, he lifted and threw back the +groaning lid. We both gazed, and as we gazed were well-nigh blinded. + +For this is what we saw:-- + +At first, only a blaze of darting rays that beneath the moon gleamed, +sparkled and shot out a myriad scintillations of colour--red, violet, +orange, green and deepest crimson. Then by degrees I saw that all +these flashing hues came from one jumbled heap of gems--some large, +some small, but together in value beyond a king's ransom. + +I caught my breath and looked again. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, +amethysts, opals, emeralds, turquoises, and innumerable other stones +lay thus roughly heaped together and glittering as though for joy to +see the light of heaven once more. Some polished, some uncut, some +strung on necklaces and chains, others gleaming in rings and +bracelets and barbaric ornaments; there they lay--wealth beyond the +hope of man, the dreams of princes. + +The chest measured some five feet by three, and these jewels +evidently lay in a kind of sunken drawer, or tray, of iron. In the +corner of this was a small space of about four inches square, covered +with an iron lid. As we gazed with straining eyes, Colliver drew one +more long sigh of satisfied avarice, and lifted this smaller lid. + +Instantly a full rich flood of crimson light welled up, serene and +glorious, with luminous shafts of splendour, that, as we looked, met +and concentred in one glowing heart of flame--met in one translucent, +ineffable depth of purple-red. Calm and radiant it lay there, as +though no curse lay in its deep hollows, no passion had ever fed its +flames with blood; stronger than the centuries, imperishably and +triumphantly cruel--the Great Ruby of Ceylon! + +With a short gasp of delight, Colliver was stretching out his hand +towards it, when I laid mine heavily on his shoulder, then sprang to +my feet. My waiting was over. + +He gave one start of uttermost terror, leapt to his feet, and in an +instant was facing me. Already his knife was half out of his +waist-band; already he had taken half a leap forwards, when he saw me +standing there above him. + +Bareheaded I stood in the moonlight, the white ray glittering +up my knife and lighting up my bared chest and set stern face. +Bareheaded, with the light breeze fanning my curls, I stood there and +waited for his leap. But that leap never came. + +One step forward he took and then looked, and looking, staggered back +with hands thrown up before his face. Slowly, as he cowered back +with hands upraised and straining eyeballs, I saw those eyeballs grow +rigid, freeze and turn to stone, while through his gaping, bloodless +lips came a hoarse and gasping sound that had neither words nor +meaning. + +Then as I still watched, with murderous purpose on my face, there +came one awful cry, a scream that startled the gulls from slumber and +awoke echo after echo along the shore--a scream like no sound in +earth or heaven--a scream inhuman and appalling. + +Then followed silence, and as the last echo died away, he fell. + +As he collapsed within the pit, I made a step forward to the brink +and looked. He was now upon his hands and knees before the chest, +bathing his hands in the gleaming heap of gems, catching them up in +handfuls, and as they ran like sparkling rain through his fingers, +muttering incoherently to himself and humming wild snatches of song. + +"Colliver--Simon Colliver!" I called. + +He paid no attention, but went on tossing up the diamonds and rubies +in his hands and watching them as they rattled down again upon the +heap. + +"Simon Colliver!" + +I leapt down into the pit beside him, and laid my hand upon his +shoulder. He paused for a moment, and looked up with a vacant gleam +in his deep eyes. + +"Colliver, I have to speak a word with you." + +"Oh, yes, I know you. Trenoweth, of course: Ezekiel Trenoweth come +back again after the treasure. But you are too late, too late, too +late! You are dead now--ha, ha! dead and rotting. + + "For his glittering eyes are the salt sea's prize, + And his fingers clutch the sand, my lads. + +"Aha! his fingers clutch the sand. Here's pretty sand for you! sand +of all colours; look, look, there's a brave sparkle!" And again he +ran the priceless shower through his fingers. + +"Oh, yes," he continued after a moment, looking up, "oh, yes, I know +you--Ezekiel Trenoweth, of course; or is it Amos, or Jasper? +No matter, you are all dead. I killed the last of you last year--no, +last night; all dead. + + "And the devil has got his due, my lads! + +"His due, his due! Look at it! look again! I had a skull just now. +John Railton's skull, no eyes in it though, + + "For his glittering eyes are the salt sea's-- + +"Where is the skull? Let me fit it with a bonny pair of eyes here-- +here they are, or here, look, here's a pair that change colour when +they move. Where is the skull? Give it me. Oh, I forgot, I lost +it. Never mind, find it, find it. Here's plenty of eyes when you +find it. Or give it this big, red one. Here's a flaming, fiery +eye!" + +As he stretched out his hand over the Great Ruby, I caught him by the +wrist. But he was too quick for me, and with a sharp snarl and click +of his teeth, had whipped his hand round to his back. + +Then in a flash, as I grappled with him, he thrust me back with his +left palm, and, with a sweep of his right, hurled the great jewel far +out into the sea. I saw it rise and curve in one long, sparkling +arch of flame, then fall with a dropping line of fire down into the +billows. A splash--a jet of light, and it was gone:--gone perhaps to +hide amid the rotting timbers of what was once the _Belle Fortune_, +or among the bones of her drowned crew to watch with its blood-red +tireless eye the extremity of its handiwork. There, for aught I +know, it lies to-day, and there, for aught I care, beneath the waters +it shall treasure its infernal loveliness for ever. + +Into its red heart I have looked once, and this was what I read:--of +treachery, lust and rapine; of battle and murder and sudden death; of +midnight outcries, and poison in the guest-cup; of a curse that said, +"Even as the Heart of the Ruby is Blood and its Eyes a Flaming Fire, +so shall it be for them that would possess it: Fire shall be their +portion, and Blood their inheritance for ever." Of that quest and +that curse we were the two survivors. And what were we, that night, +as we stood upon the sands with that last hellish glitter still +dancing in our eyes? The one, a lonely and broken man; the other-- + +I turned to look at Colliver. He was huddled against the pit's side, +with his dark eyes gazing wistfully up at me. In their shining +depths there lurked no more sanity than in the heart of the Great +Ruby. As I looked, I knew him to be a hopeless madman, and knew also +that my revenge had slipped from me for ever. + +We were still standing so when a soft wave came stealing up the beach +and flung the lip of its foam over the pit's edge into the chest. +I turned round. The tide was rising fast, and in a minute or so +would be upon us. Catching Colliver by the shoulder, I pointed and +tried to make him understand; but the maniac had again fallen to +playing with the jewels. I shook him; he did not stir, only sat +there jabbering and singing. And now wave after wave came splashing +over us, soaking us through, and hissing in phosphorescent pools +among the gems. + +There was no time to be lost. I tore the madman back, stamped down +the lid, locked it, and took out the key; then caught Colliver in my +arms and heaved him bodily out of the trench. Jumping out beside +him, I caught up the spade and shovelled back the wet sand as fast as +I could, until the tide drove us back. Colliver stood quite tamely +beside me all this while and watched the treasure disappearing from +his view; only every now and then he would chatter a few wild words, +and with that break off again in vacant wonder at my work. + +When all was done that could be, I took my companion's hand, led him +up the sands beyond high-water mark, and then sat down beside him, +waiting for the dawn. + +And there, next morning, by Dead Man's Rock they found us, while +across the beach came the faint music of Polkimbra bells as they rang +their Christmas peal, "Peace on earth and goodwill toward men." + + +There is little more to tell. Next day, at low ebb, with the aid of +Joe Roscorla (still hale and hearty) and a few Polkimbra fishermen +whom I knew, the rest of my grandfather's treasure was secured and +carried up from the sea. In the iron chest, besides the gems already +spoken of, and beneath the iron tray containing them, was a +prodigious quantity of gold and silver, partly in ingots, partly in +coinage. This last was of all nationalities: moidores, dollars, +rupees, doubloons, guineas, crown-pieces, louis, besides an amount of +coins which I could not trace, the whole proving a most catholic +taste in buccaneering. So much did it all weigh, that we found it +impossible to stir the chest as it stood, and therefore secured the +prize piecemeal. Strangest of all, however, was a folded parchment +which, we discovered beneath the tray of gems and above the coins. +It contained but few words, which ran as follows-- + + FAIR FORTUNE WRECKED, FAIR FORTUNE FOUND, + AND ALL BUT THE FINDER UNDERGROUND.--A.T. + +This, as, far as I know, was my grandfather's one and only attempt at +verse; and its apparent application to the wreck of the _Belle +Fortune_ is a coincidence which puzzles me to this day. + +The reader will search the chronicles of wrecks in vain for the story +of that ill-fated ship. But if he comes upon the record of a certain +vessel, the _James and Elizabeth_, wrecked upon the Cornish coast on +the night of October 11th, 1849, he may know it to be the same. +For that was the name given by the only survivor, one Georgio +Rhodojani, a Greek sailor, and as the _James and Elizabeth_ she +stands entered to this day. + +If, however, his curiosity lead him further to inquire into the +after-history of this same Georgio Rhodojani, let him go on a fine +summer day to the County Lunatic Asylum at Bodmin, and, with +permission, enter the grounds set apart for private patients. +There he may chance to see a strange sight. + +On a garden seat against the sunny wall sit two persons--a man and a +woman. The man is decrepit and worn, being apparently about +sixty-seven or eight years old; but the woman, as the keepers will +tell, is ninety. She is his mother, and as they sit together, she +feeds him with sweets and fruit as tenderly as though he were a +child. He takes them, but never notices her, and when he has had +enough, rises abruptly and walks away humming a song which runs-- + + "So it's hey! for the homeward bound, my lads! + And ho! for the drunken crew, + For his mess-mates round lie dead and drowned, + And the devil has got his due, my lads-- + Sing ho! but he waits for you!" + +This is his only song now, and he will walk round the gravel paths by +the hour, singing it softly and muttering. Sometimes, however, he +will sit for long beside his mother and let her pat his hand. +They never speak. + +Folks say that she is as mad as her son, but she lodges in the town +outside the walls and comes to see him every day. Certainly she is +as remarkable to look upon, for her skin is of a brilliant and +startling yellow, and her withered hands are loaded with diamonds. +As you pass, she will stare at you with eyes absolutely passionless +and vague; but see them as she sighs and turns to go, see them as she +watches for a responsive touch of love on her son's face, and you may +find some meaning in them then. + +Mrs. Luttrell was never seen again from the hour when she stood below +the river steps and waved her white arms to me, crying "Kill him! +kill him!" I made every inquiry but could learn nothing, save that +my boat had been found floating below Gravesend, quite empty. +She can scarcely be alive, so that is yet one soul more added to the +account of the Great Ruby. + +Failing to find her mother, I had Claire's body conveyed to +Polkimbra. She lies buried beside my father and mother in the +little churchyard there. Above her head stands a white stone with +the simple words, "In memory of C. L., died Dec. 23rd, 1863. +'Love is strong as death.'" + +The folk at Polkimbra have many a fable about this grave, but if +pressed will shake their heads sagely and refer you to "Master +Trenoweth up yonder at Lantrig. Folks say she was a play-actor and +he loved her. Anyway you may see him up in the churchyard most days, +but dont'ee go nigh him then, unless you baint afeard of th'evil +eye." + +And I? After the treasure was divided with Government, I still had +for my share what I suppose would be called a considerable fortune. +The only use to which I put it, however, was to buy back Lantrig, the +home of a stock that will die out with me. There again from the +middle beam in the front parlour hangs my grandfather's key, covered +with cobwebs as thickly as on the day when my father went forth to +seek the treasure. There I live a solitary life--an old man, though +scarcely yet past middle age. For all my hopes are buried in the +grave where sleeps my lost love, and my soul shall lie for ever under +the curse, engulfed and hidden as deeply as the Great Ruby beneath +the shadow of Dead Man's Rock. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEAD MAN'S ROCK*** + + +******* This file should be named 17842-0.txt or 17842-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/8/4/17842 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Dead Man's Rock</p> +<p>Author: Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch</p> +<p>Release Date: February 23, 2006 [eBook #17842]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: UTF-8</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEAD MAN'S ROCK***</p> +<br><br><center><h3>E-text prepared by Lionel Sear</h3></center><br><br> +<hr class="full" noshade> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h1>DEAD MAN'S ROCK.</h1> + +<h4>A Romance.</h4> + +<h2>By Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch (Q).</h2> +<br> +<br> + +<h5>1887</h5> + +<h5> This e-text prepared from an edition published in 1894.</h5> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr class = "narrow"> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h5>To the Memory of My Father I dedicate this book.</h5> + +<br> +<hr class = "narrow"> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<center> +<h3>CONTENTS.</h3> +<br> +<h3>BOOK I.—THE QUEST OF THE GREAT RUBY.</h3> + +<p> </p> +<table cellpadding= "2"> +<tr><td align="center" valign="top">Chapter</td><td> </td></tr> + + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">I. </td><td><a href = "#1"> + TELLS OF THE STRANGE WILL OF MY GRANDFATHER, AMOS TRENOWETH.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">II. </td><td><a href = "#2"> TELLS HOW MY FATHER WENT TO SEEK THE TREASURE; AND HOW MY + MOTHER HEARD A CRY IN THE NIGHT.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">III. </td><td><a href = "#3"> TELLS OF TWO STRANGE MEN THAT WATCHED THE SEA UPON POLKIMBRA + BEACH.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">IV. </td><td><a href = "#4"> TELLS HOW A SONG WAS SUNG AND A KNIFE DRAWN UPON DEAD MAN'S + ROCK.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">V. </td><td><a href = "#5"> TELLS HOW THE SAILOR GEORGIO RHODOJANI GAVE EVIDENCE AT THE + "LUGGER INN"</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right" valign="top">VI. </td><td><a href = "#6"> TELLS HOW A FACE LOOKED IN AT THE WINDOW OF LANTRIG; AND IN + WHAT MANNER MY FATHER CAME HOME TO US.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">VII. </td><td><a href = "#7"> TELLS HOW UNCLE LOVEDAY MADE A DISCOVERY; AND WHAT THE TIN + BOX CONTAINED.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">VIII. </td><td><a href = "#8"> CONTAINS THE FIRST PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: SETTING FORTH + HIS MEETING WITH MR. ELIHU SANDERSON, OF BOMBAY; AND MY + GRANDFATHER'S MANUSCRIPT.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">IX. </td><td><a href = "#9"> CONTAINS THE SECOND PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: SETTING + FORTH HIS ADVENTURES IN THE ISLAND OF CELON.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">X. </td><td><a href = "#10"> CONTAINS THE THIRD AND LAST PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: + SETTING FORTH THE MUTINY ON BOARD THE <i>BELLE FORTUNE</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">XI. </td><td><a href = "#11"> TELLS OF THE WRITING UPON THE GOLDEN CLASP; AND HOW I TOOK + DOWN THE GREAT KEY.</a></td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<br> +<hr class = "narrow"> +<br> +<br> +<center> +<br> +<br> + +<h3>BOOK II—THE FINDING OF THE GREAT RUBY.</h3> + + +<p> </p> +<table cellpadding= "2"> +<tr><td align="center" valign="top">Chapter</td><td> </td></tr> + + + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">I. </td><td><a href = "#12"> TELLS HOW THOMAS LOVEDAY AND I WENT IN SEARCH OF FORTUNE.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">II. </td><td><a href = "#13"> TELLS OF THE LUCK OF THE GOLDEN CLASP.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">III. </td><td><a href = "#14"> TELLS AN OLD STORY IN THE TRADITIONAL MANNER.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">IV. </td><td><a href = "#15"> TELLS HOW I SAW THE SHADOW OF THE ROCK; AND HOW I TOLD AND + HEARD NEWS.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">V. </td><td><a href = "#16"> TELLS HOW THE CURTAIN ROSE UPON "FRANCESCA: A TRAGEDY".</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">VI. </td><td><a href = "#17"> TELLS HOW THE BLACK AND YELLOW FAN SENT A MESSAGE; AND HOW I + SAW A FACE IN THE FOG.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">VII. </td><td><a href = "#18"> TELLS HOW CLAIRE WENT TO THE PLAY; AND HOW SHE SAW THE + GOLDEN CLASP.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">VIII. </td><td><a href = "#19"> TELLS HOW THE CURTAIN FELL UPON "FRANCESCA: A TRAGEDY".</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">IX. </td><td><a href = "#20"> TELLS HOW TWO VOICES LED ME TO BOARD A SCHOONER; AND WHAT + BEFELL THERE.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">X. </td><td><a href = "#21"> TELLS IN WHAT MANNER I LEARNT THE SECRET OF THE GREAT KEY.</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align= "right" valign= "top">XI. </td><td><a href = "#22"> TELLS HOW AT LAST I FOUND MY REVENGE AND THE GREAT RUBY.</a></td></tr> + + +</table> +</center> + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>DEAD MAN'S ROCK.</h2> +<br> +<br> +<h2>BOOK I.</h2> +<br> +<br> +<h2>THE QUEST OF THE GREAT RUBY.</h2> +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "1"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + + + +<h3>TELLS OF THE STRANGE WILL OF MY GRANDFATHER, AMOS TRENOWETH.</h3> +<br> +<p>Whatever claims this story may have upon the notice of the world, +they will rest on no niceties of style or aptness of illustration. +It is a plain tale, plainly told: nor, as I conceive, does its native +horror need any ingenious embellishment. There are many books that +I, though a man of no great erudition, can remember, which gain much +of interest from the pertinent and appropriate comments with which +the writer has seen fit to illustrate any striking situation. +From such books an observing man may often draw the exactest rules +for the regulation of life and conduct, and their authors may +therefore be esteemed public benefactors. Among these I, Jasper +Trenoweth, can claim no place; yet I venture to think my history will +not altogether lack interest—and this for two reasons. It deals +with the last chapter (I pray Heaven it be the last) in the +adventures of a very remarkable gem—none other, in fact, than the +Great Ruby of Ceylon; and it lifts, at least in part, the veil which +for some years has hidden a certain mystery of the sea. For the +moral, it must be sought by the reader himself in the following +pages.</p> + +<p>To make all clear, I must go back half a century, and begin with the +strange and unaccountable Will made in the year of Grace 1837 by my +grandfather, Amos Trenoweth, of Lantrig in the County of Cornwall. +The old farm-house of Lantrig, heritage and home of the Trenoweths as +far as tradition can reach, and Heaven knows how much longer, stands +some few miles N.W. of the Lizard, facing the Atlantic gales from +behind a scanty veil of tamarisks, on Pedn-glas, the northern point +of a small sandy cove, much haunted of old by smugglers, but now left +to the peaceful boats of the Polkimbra fishermen. In my +grandfather's time however, if tales be true, Ready-Money Cove saw +many a midnight cargo run, and many a prize of cognac and lace found +its way to the cellars and store-room of Lantrig. Nay, there is a +story (but for its truth I will not vouch) of a struggle between my +grandfather's lugger, the <i>Pride of Heart</i>, and a certain Revenue +cutter, and of an unowned shot that found a Preventive Officer's +heart. But the whole tale remains to this day full of mystery, nor +would I mention it save that it may be held to throw some light on my +grandfather's sudden disappearance no long time after. Whither he +went, none clearly knew. Folks said, to fight the French; but when +he returned suddenly some twenty years later, he said little about +sea-fights, or indeed on any other subject; nor did many care to +question him, for he came back a stern, taciturn man, apparently with +no great wealth, but also without seeming to want for much, and at +any rate indisposed to take the world into his confidence. +His father had died meanwhile, so he quietly assumed the mastership +at Lantrig, nursed his failing mother tenderly until her death, and +then married one of the Triggs of Mullyon, of whom was born my +father, Ezekiel Trenoweth.</p> + +<p>I have hinted, what I fear is but the truth, that my grandfather had +led a hot and riotous youth, fearing neither God, man, nor devil. +Before his return, however, he had "got religion" from some quarter, +and was confirmed in it by the preaching of one Jonathan Wilkins, as +I have heard, a Methodist from "up the country," and a powerful mover +of souls. As might have been expected in such a man as my +grandfather, this religion was of a joyless and gloomy order, full of +anticipations of hell-fire and conviction of the sinfulness of +ordinary folk. But it undoubtedly was sincere, for his wife Philippa +believed in it, and the master and mistress of Lantrig were alike the +glory and strong support of the meeting-house at Polkimbra until her +death. After this event, her husband shut himself up with the +tortures of his own stern conscience, and was seen by few. In this +dismal self-communing he died on the 27th of October, 1837, leaving +behind him one mourner, his son Ezekiel, then a strong and comely +youth of twenty-two.</p> + +<p>This brings me to my grandfather's Will, discovered amongst his +papers after his death; and surely no stranger or more perplexing +document was ever penned, especially as in this case any will was +unnecessary, seeing that only one son was left to claim the +inheritance. Men guessed that those dark years of seclusion and +self-repression had been spent in wrestling with memories of a sinful +and perhaps a criminal past, and predicted that Amos Trenoweth could +not die without confession. They were partly right, from knowledge +of human nature; and partly wrong, from ignorance of my grandfather's +character.</p> + +<p>The Will was dated "June 15th, 1837," and ran as follows:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p><i> "I, Amos Trenoweth, of Lantrig, in the Parish of Polkimbra and + County of Cornwall, feeling, in this year of Grace Eighteen + hundred and thirty-seven, that my Bodily Powers are failing and + the Hour drawing near when I shall be called to account for my + Many and Grievous Sins, do hereby make Provision for my Death + and also for my son Ezekiel, together with such Descendants as + may hereafter be born to him. To this my son Ezekiel I give and + bequeath the Farm and House of Lantrig, with all my Worldly + Goods, and add my earnest hope that this may suffice to support + both him and his Descendants in Godliness and Contentment, + knowing how greatly these excell the Wealth of this World and + the Lusts of the Flesh. But, knowing also the mutability of + earthly things, I do hereby command and enjoin that, if at any + time He or his Descendants be in stress and tribulation of + poverty, the Head of our Family of Trenoweth shall strictly and + faithfully obey these my Latest Directions. He shall take ship + and go unto Bombay in India, to the house of Elihu Sanderson, + Esquire, or his Heirs, and there, presenting in person this my + last Will and Testament, together with the Holy Bible now lying + in the third drawer of my Writing Desk, shall duly and + scrupulously execute such instructions as the said Elihu + Sanderson or his Heirs shall lay upon him.</i></p> + +<p> <i>"Also I command and enjoin, under pain of my Dying Curse, that + the Iron Key now hanging from the Middle Beam in the Front + Parlour be not touched or moved, until he who undertakes this + Task shall have returned and have crossed the threshold of + Lantrig, having duly performed all the said Instructions. + And furthermore that the said Task be not undertaken lightly or + except in direst Need, under pain of Grievous and Sore + Affliction. This I say, knowing well the Spiritual and worldly + Perils that shall beset such an one, and having myself been + brought near to Destruction of Body and Soul, which latter may + Christ in His Mercy avert.</i></p> + +<p> <i>"Thus, having eased my mind of great and pressing Anguish, I + commend my soul to God, before Whose Judgment Bar I shall be + presently summoned to stand, the greatest of sinners, yet not + without hope of Everlasting Redemption, for Christ's sake. + Amen.</i></p> + +<p> <i>"AMOS TRENOWETH."</i></p> +</blockquote> + +<p>Such was the Will, written on stiff parchment in crabbed and +unscholarly characters, without legal forms or witnesses; but all +such were needless, as I have pointed out. And, indeed, my father +was wise, as I think, to show it to nobody, but go his way quietly as +before, managing the farm as he had managed it during the old man's +last years. Only by degrees he broke from the seclusion which had +been natural to him during his parents' lifetime, so far as to look +about for a wife—shyly enough at first—until he caught the dark +eyes of Margery Freethy one Sunday morning in Polkimbra Church, +whither he had gone of late for freedom, to the no small tribulation +of the meeting-house. Now, whether this tribulation arose from the +backsliding of a promising member, or the loss of the owner of +Lantrig (who was at the same time unmarried), I need not pause here +to discuss. Nor is it necessary to tell how regularly Margery and +Ezekiel found themselves in church, nor how often they caught each +other's eyes straying from the prayer-book. It is enough that at the +year's end Margery answered Ezekiel's question, and shortly after +came to Lantrig "for good."</p> + +<p>The first years of their married life must have been very happy, as I +gather from the hushed joy with which my mother always spoke of them. +I gather also that my first appearance in this world caused more +delight than I have ever given since—God forgive me for it! +But shortly after I was four years old everything began to go wrong. +First of all, two ships in which my father had many shares were lost +at sea; then the cattle were seized with plague, and the stock +gradually dwindled away to nothing. Finally, my father's bank +broke—or, as we say in the West, "went scat!"—and we were left all +but penniless, with the prospect of having to sell Lantrig, being +without stock and lacking means to replenish it. It was at this +time, I have since learnt from my mother, that Amos Trenoweth's Will +was first thought about. She, poor soul! had never heard of the +parchment before, and her heart misgave her as she read of peril to +soul and body sternly hinted at therein. Also, her best-beloved +brother had gone down in a squall off the Cape of Good Hope, so that +she always looked upon the sea as a cruel and treacherous foe, and +shuddered to think of it as lying in wait for her Ezekiel's life. +It came to pass, therefore, that for two years the young wife's tears +and entreaties prevailed; but at the end of this time, matters +growing worse and worse, and also because it seemed hard that Lantrig +should pass away from the Trenoweths while, for aught we knew, +treasure was to be had for the looking, poverty and my father's wish +prevailed, and it was determined, with the tearful assent of my +mother, that he should start to seek this Elihu Sanderson, of Bombay, +and, with good fortune, save the failing house of the Trenoweths. +Only he waited until the worst of the winter was over, and then, +having commended us both to the care of his aunt, Elizabeth Loveday, +of Lizard Town, and provided us with the largest sum he could scrape +together (and small indeed it was), he started for the port of +Plymouth one woeful morning in February, and thence sailed away in +the good ship <i>Golden Wave</i> to win his inheritance.</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "2"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS HOW MY FATHER WENT TO SEEK THE TREASURE;<br> AND HOW MY MOTHER +HEARD A CRY IN THE NIGHT.</h3> + +<p>So my father sailed away, carrying with him—sewn for safety in his +jersey's side—the Will and the small clasped Bible; nor can I think +of stranger equipment for the hunting of earthly treasure. And the +great iron key hung untouched from the beam, while the spiders +outvied one another in wreathing it with their webs, knowing it to be +the only spot in Lantrig where they were safe from my mother's broom. +It is with these spiders that my recollections begin, for of my +father, before he sailed away, remembrance is dim and scanty, being +confined to the picture of a tall fair man, with huge shoulders and +wonderful grey eyes, that changed in a moment from the stern look he +must have inherited from Amos to an extraordinary depth of love and +sympathy. Also I have some faint memories of a pig, named Eleazar +(for no well-explained reason), which fell over the cliff one night +and awoke the household with its cries. But this I mention only +because it happened, as I learn, before my father's going, and not +for any connection with my story. We must have lived a very quiet +life at Lantrig, even as lives go on our Western coast. I remember +my mother now as she went softly about the house contriving and +scheming to make the two ends of our small possessions meet. She was +a woman who always walked softly, and, indeed, talked so, with a low +musical voice such as I shall never hear again, nor can ever hope to. +But I remember her best in church, as she knelt and prayed for her +absent husband, and also in the meeting-house, which she sometimes +attended, more to please Aunt Elizabeth than for any good it did her. +For the religion there was too sombre for her quiet sorrow; and often +I have seen a look of awful terror possess her eyes when the young +minister gave out the hymn and the fervid congregation wailed forth—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"In midst of life we are in death.<br> +<span class="ind2">Oh! stretch Thine arm to save.</span><br> + Amid the storm's tumultuous breath<br> +<span class="ind2">And roaring of the wave."</span></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>Which, among a fishing population, was considered a particularly +appropriate hymn; and, truly, to hear the unction with which the word +"tu-mult-u-ous" was rendered, with all strength of lung and rolling +of syllables, was moving enough. But my mother would grow all white +and trembling, and clutch my hand sometimes, as though to save +herself from shipwreck; whilst I too often would be taken with the +passion of the chant, and join lustily in the shouting, only half +comprehending her mortal anguish. It was this, perhaps, and many +another such scene, which drew upon me her gentle reproof for +pointing one day to the text above the pulpit and repeating, +"How dreadful is this place!" But that was after I had learned to +spell.</p> + +<p>It had always been my father's wish that I should grow up +"a scholar," which, in those days, meant amongst us one who could +read and write with no more than ordinary difficulty. So one of my +mother's chief cares was to teach me my letters, which I learnt from +big A to "Ampusand" in the old hornbook at Lantrig. I have that +hornbook still,</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">——"Covered with pellucid horn,<br> +To save from fingers wet the letters fair."</p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>The horn, alas! is no longer pellucid, but dim, as if with the +tears of the many generations that have struggled through the +alphabet and the first ten numerals and reached in due course the +haven of the Lord's Prayer and Doxology. I had passed the Doxology, +and was already deep in the "Pilgrim's Progress" and the "Holy War" +(which latter book, with the rude taste of childhood, I greatly +preferred, so that I quickly knew the mottoes and standards of its +bewildering hosts by heart), when my father's first letter came home. +In those days, before the great canal was cut, a voyage to the East +Indies was no light matter, lying as it did around the treacherous +Cape and through seas where a ship may lie becalmed for weeks. +So it was little wonder that my father's letter, written from Bombay, +was some time on its way. Still, when the news came it was good. +He had seen Mr. Elihu Sanderson, son of the Elihu mentioned in my +grandfather's Will, had presented his parchment and Testament, and +received some notes (most of which he sent home), together with a +sealed packet, directed in Amos Trenoweth's handwriting: "To the Son +of my House, who, having Counted all the Perils, is Resolute." +This packet, my father went on to say, contained much mysterious +matter, which would keep until he and his dear wife met. He added +that, for himself, he could divine no peril, nor any cause for his +dear wife to trouble, seeing that he had but to go to the island of +Ceylon, whence, having accomplished the commands contained in the +packet, he purposed to take ship and return with all speed to +England. This was the substance of the letter, wrapped around with +many endearing words, and much tender solicitude for Margery and the +little one, as that he hoped Jasper was tackling his letters like a +real scholar, and comforting his mother's heart, with more to this +effect; which made us weep very sorrowfully when the letter was read, +although we could not well have told why. As to the sealed packet, +my father would have been doubtless more explicit had he been without +a certain distrust of letters and letter-carriers, which, amid much +faith in the miraculous powers of the Post Office, I have known to +exist among us even in these later days.</p> + +<p>Than this blessed letter surely no written sheet was ever more read +and re-read; read to me every night before prayers were said, read to +Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Loveday, read (in extracts) to all the +neighbours of Polkimbra, for none knew certainly why Ezekiel had gone +to India except that, somewhat vaguely, it was to "better hisself." +How many times my mother read it, and kissed it, and cried over it, +God alone knows; I only know that her step, which had been failing of +late, grew firmer, and she went about the house with a light in her +face like "the face of an angel," as the vicar said. It may have +been: I have never since seen its like upon earth.</p> + +<p>After this came the great joy of sending an answer, which I wrote +(with infinite pains as to the capital letters) at my mother's +dictation. And then it was read over and corrected, and added to, +and finally directed, as my father had instructed us, to "Mr. Ezekiel +Trenoweth; care of John P. Eversleigh, Esq., of the East India +Company's Service, Colombo, Ceylon." I remember that my mother +sealed it with the red cornelian Ezekiel had given her when he asked +her to be his wife, and took it with her own hands to Penzance to +post, having, for the occasion, harnessed old Pleasure in the cart +for the first time since we had been alone.</p> + +<p>Then we had to wait again, and the little store of money grew small +indeed. But Aunt Elizabeth was a wonderful contriver, and tender of +heart besides, although in most things to be called a "hard" woman. +She had married, during my grandfather's long absence, Dr. Loveday, +of Lizard Town—a mild little man with a prodigious vanity in brass +buttons, and the most terrific religious beliefs, which did not in +the least alter his natural sweetness of temper. My aunt and uncle +(it was impossible to think of them except in this order) would often +drive or walk over to Lantrig, seldom without some little present, +which, together with my aunt's cap-box, would emerge from the back +seat, amid a <i>duetto</i> something after this fashion:—</p> + +<p> <i>My Aunt</i>. "So, my dear, we thought as we were driving in this + direction we would see how you were getting on; and + by great good fortune, or rather as I should say + (Jasper, do not hang your head so; it looks so + deceitful) by the will of Heaven (and Heaven's will + be done, you know, my dear, which must be a great + comfort to you in your sore affliction), as Cyrus was + driving into Cadgwith yesterday—were you not, + Cyrus?"</p> + +<p> <i>My Uncle</i>. "To be sure, my dear."</p> + +<p> <i>My Aunt</i>. "Well, as I was saying, as Cyrus was driving into + Cadgwith yesterday to see Martha George's husband, + who was run over by the Helston coach, and she such a + regular attendant at the Prayer-meeting, but in the + midst of life (Jasper, don't fidget)—well, whom + should he see but Jane Ann Collins, with the finest + pair of ducks, too, and costing a mere nothing. + Cyrus will bear me out."</p> + +<p> <i>My Uncle</i>. "Nothing at all, my dear. Jasper, come here and talk + to me. Do you know, Jasper, what happens to little + boys that tell lies? You do? Something terrible, + eh? Soul's perdition, my boy; soul's ev-er-last-ing + perdition. There, come and show me the pig."</p> + +<p>What agonies of conscience it must have cost these two good souls +thus to conspire together for benevolence, none ever knew. Nor was +it less pathetic that the fraud was so hollow and transparent. +I doubt not that the sin of it was washed out with self-reproving +tears, and cannot think that they were shed in vain.</p> + +<p>So the seasons passed, and we waited, till in the late summer of 1849 +(my father having been away nineteen months) there came another +letter to say that he was about to start for home. He had found what +he sought, so he said, but could not rightly understand its value, +or, indeed, make head or tail of it by himself, and dared not ask +strangers to help him. Perhaps, however, when he came home, Jasper +(who was such a scholar) would help him; and maybe the key would be +some aid. For the rest, he had been stricken with a fever—a malady +common enough in those parts—but was better, and would start in +something over a week, in the <i>Belle Fortune</i>, a barque of some 650 +tons register, homeward bound with a cargo of sugar, spices, and +coffee, and having a crew of about eighteen hands, with, he thought, +one or two passengers. The letter was full of strong hope and love, +so that my mother, who trembled a little when she read about the +fever, plucked up courage to smile again towards the close. The ship +would be due about October, or perhaps November. So once more we had +to resume our weary waiting, but this time with glad hearts, for we +knew that before Christmas the days of anxiety and yearning would be +over.</p> + +<p>The long summer drew to a glorious and golden September, and so +faded away in a veil of grey sky; and the time of watching was nearly +done. Through September the skies had been without cloud, and the +sea almost breathless, but with the coming of October came dirty +weather and a strong sou'-westerly wind, that gathered day by day, +until at last, upon the evening of October 11th, it broke into a +gale. My mother for days had been growing more restless and anxious +with the growing wind, and this evening had much ado to sit quietly +and endure. I remembered that as the storm raged without and tore at +the door-hinges, while the rain lashed and smote the tamarisk +branches against the panes, I sat by her knee before the kitchen fire +and read bits from my favourite "Holy War," which, in the pauses of +the storm, she would explain to me.</p> + +<p>I was much put to it that night, I recollect, by the questionable +morality at one point of Captain Credence, who in general was my +favourite hero, dividing that honour with General Boanerges for +the most part, but exciting more sympathy by reason of his wound—so +grievously I misread the allegory, or rather saw no allegory at +all. So my mother explained it to me, though all the while, poor +creature, her heart was racked with terror for <i>her</i> Mansoul, beaten, +perhaps, at that moment from its body by the fury of that awful +night. Then when the fable's meaning was explained, and my +difficulty smoothed away, we fell to talking of father's home-coming, +in vain endeavours to cheat ourselves of the fears that rose again +with every angry bellow of the tempest, and agreed that his ship +could not possibly be due yet (rejoicing at this for the first time), +but must, we feigned, be lying in a dead calm off the West Coast of +Africa; until we almost laughed—God pardon us!—at the picture of +his anxiety to be home while such a storm was raging at the doors of +Lantrig. And then I listened to wonderful stories of the East Indies +and the marvels that men found there, and wondered whether father +would bring home a parrot, and if it would be as like Aunt Loveday as +the parrot down at the "Lugger Inn," at Polkimbra, and so crept +upstairs to bed to dream of Captain Credence and parrots, and the +"Lugger Inn" in the city of Mansoul, as though no fiends were +shouting without and whirling sea and sky together in one devil's +cauldron.</p> + +<p>How long I slept I know not; but I woke with the glare of a candle in +my eyes, to see my mother, all in white, standing by the bed, and in +her eyes an awful and soul-sickening horror.</p> + +<p>"Jasper, Jasper! wake up and listen!"</p> + +<p>I suppose I must have been still half asleep, for I lay looking at +her with dazzled sight, not rightly knowing whether this vision were +real or part of my strange dreams.</p> + +<p>"Jasper, for the love of God wake up!"</p> + +<p>At this, so full were her words of mortal fear, I shook off my +drowsiness and sat up in bed, wide awake now and staring at the +strange apparition. My mother was white as death, and trembling so +that the candle in her hand shook to and fro, casting wild dancing +shadows on the wall behind.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jasper, listen, listen!"</p> + +<p>I listened, but could hear nothing save the splashing of spray and +rain upon my window, and above it the voice of the storm; now moaning +as a creature in pain, now rising and growing into an angry roar +whereat the whole house from chimney to base shook and shuddered, and +anon sinking slowly with loud sobbings and sighings as though the +anguish of a million tortured souls were borne down the blast.</p> + +<p>"Mother, I hear nothing but the storm."</p> + +<p>"Nothing but the storm! Oh, Jasper, are you sure you hear nothing +but the storm?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing else, mother, though that is bad enough."</p> + +<p>She seemed relieved a little, but still trembled sadly, and caught +her breath with every fresh roar. The tempest had gathered fury, and +was now raging as though Judgment Day were come, and earth about to +be blotted out. For some minutes we listened almost motionless, but +heard nothing save the furious elements; and, indeed, it was hard to +believe that any sound on earth could be audible above such a din. +At last I turned to my mother and said—</p> + +<p>"Mother dear, it is nothing but the storm. You were thinking of +father, and that made you nervous. Go back to bed—it is so cold +here—and try to go to sleep. What was it you thought you heard?"</p> + +<p>"Dear Jasper, you are a good boy, and I suppose you are right, for +you can hear nothing, and I can hear nothing now. But, oh, Jasper! +it was so terrible, and I seemed to hear it so plainly; though I +daresay it was only my—Oh, God! there it is again! listen! listen!"</p> + +<p>This time I heard—heard clearly and unmistakably, and, hearing, felt +the blood in my veins turn to very ice.</p> + +<p>Shrill and distinct above the roar of the storm, which at the moment +had somewhat lulled, there rose a prolonged wail, or rather shriek, +as of many human voices rising slowly in one passionate appeal to the +mercy of Heaven, and dying away in sobbing, shuddering despair as the +wild blast broke out again with the mocking laughter of all the +fiends in the pit—a cry without similitude on earth, yet surely and +awfully human; a cry that rings in my ears even now, and will +continue to ring until I die.</p> + +<p>I sprang from bed, forced the window open and looked out. The wind +flung a drenching shower of spray over my face and thin night-dress, +then tore past up the hill. I looked and listened, but nothing could +be seen or heard; no blue light, nor indeed any light at all; no cry, +nor gun, nor signal of distress—nothing but the howling of the wind +as it swept up from the sea, the thundering of the surf upon the +beach below; and all around, black darkness and impenetrable night. +The blast caught the lattice from my hand as I closed the window, and +banged it furiously. I turned to look at my mother. She had fallen +forward on her knees, with her arms flung across the bed, speechless +and motionless, in such sort that I speedily grew possessed with an +awful fear lest she should be dead. As it was, I could do nothing +but call her name and try to raise the dear head that hung so heavily +down. Remember that I was at this time not eight years old, and had +never before seen a fainting fit, so that if a sight so like to death +bewildered me it was but natural. How long the fit lasted I cannot +say, but at last, to my great joy, my mother raised her head and +looked at me with a puzzled stare that gradually froze again to +horror as recollection came back.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jasper, what could it be?—what could it be?"</p> + +<p>Alas! I knew not, and yet seemed to know too well. The cry still +rang in my ears and clamoured at my heart; while all the time a dull +sense told me that it must have been a dream, and a dull desire bade +me believe it so.</p> + +<p>"Jasper, tell me—it cannot have been—"</p> + +<p>She stopped as our eyes met, and the terrible suspicion grew and +mastered us, numbing, freezing, paralysing the life within us. +I tried to answer, but turned my head away. My mother sank once more +upon her knees, weeping, praying, despairing, wailing, while the +storm outside continued to moan and sob its passionate litany.</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "3"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS OF TWO STRANGE MEN THAT WATCHED THE SEA UPON POLKIMBRA BEACH.</h3> +<br> + +<p>Morning came at last, and with the first grey light the storm had +spent its fury. By degrees my mother had grown calmer, and was now +sleeping peacefully upon her bed, worn out with the passion of her +terror. I had long ago dressed; but even had I wished to sleep +again, curiosity to know the meaning of that awful cry would have +been too strong for me. So, as soon as I saw that my mother was +asleep, I took my boots in my hand and crept downstairs. The kitchen +looked so ghostly in the dim light, that I had almost resolved to +give up my plan and go back, but reflected that it behoved me to play +the man, if only to be able to cheer mother when I came back. +So, albeit with my heart in my mouth, I drew back the bolt—that +surely, for all my care, never creaked so loudly before or since—and +stepped out into the cool air. The fresh breeze that smote my cheeks +as I sat down outside to put on my boots brought me back to the +everyday world—a world that seemed to make the events of the night +unreal and baseless, so that I had, with boyish elasticity of temper, +almost forgotten all fear as I began to descend the cliff towards +Ready-Money Cove.</p> + +<p>Before I go any further, it will be necessary to describe in a few +words that part of the coast which is the scene of my story. +Lantrig, as I have said, looks down upon Ready-Money Cove from the +summit of Pedn-glas, its northern arm. The cove itself is narrow, +running in between two scarred and rugged walls of serpentine, and +terminating in a little beach of whitest sand beneath a frowning and +precipitous cliff. It is easy to see its value in the eyes of +smugglers, for not only is the cove difficult of observation from the +sea, by reason of its straitness and the protection of its projecting +arms, but the height and abruptness of its cliffs also give it +seclusion from the land side. For Pedn-glas on the north rises sheer +from the sea, sloping downwards a little as it runs in to join the +mainland, but only enough to admit of a rough and winding path at its +inmost point, while to the south the cove is guarded by a strange +mass of rock that demands a somewhat longer description.</p> + +<p>For some distance the cliff ran out as on the north side, but, +suddenly breaking off as if cleft by some gigantic stroke, left a +gloomy column of rock, attached to it only by an isthmus that stood +some six or seven feet above high-water mark. This separate mass +went by the name of Dead Man's Rock—a name dark and dreadful enough, +but in its derivation innocent, having been but Dodmen, or "the stony +headland," until common speech perverted it. For this reason I +suppose I ought not to call it Dead Man's Rock, the "Rock" being +superfluous, but I give it the name by which it has always been +known, being to a certain extent suspicious of those antiquarian +gentlemen that sometimes, in their eagerness to restore a name, would +deface a tradition.</p> + +<p>Let me return to the rock. Under the neck that joins it to the main +cliff there runs a natural tunnel, which at low water leads to the +long expanse of Polkimbra Beach, with the village itself lying snugly +at its further end; so that, standing at the entrance of this curious +arch, one may see the little town, with the purple cliffs behind +framed between walls of glistening serpentine. The rock is always +washed by the sea, except at low water during the spring tides, +though not reaching out so far as Pedn-glas. In colour it is mainly +black as night, but is streaked with red stains that bear an awful +likeness to blood; and, though it may be climbed—and I myself have +done it more than once in search of eggs—it has no scrap of +vegetation save where, upon its summit, the gulls build their nests +on a scanty patch of grass and wild asparagus.</p> + +<p>By the time I had crossed the cove, the western sky was brilliant +with the reflected dawn. Above the cliffs behind, morning had edged +the flying wrack of indigo clouds with a glittering line of gold, +while the sea in front still heaved beneath the pale yellow light, as +a child sobs at intervals after the first gust of passion is +over-past. The tide was at the ebb, and the fresh breeze dropped as +I got under the shadow of Dead Man's Rock and looked through the +archway on to Polkimbra Sands.</p> + +<p>Not a soul was to be seen. The long stretch of beach had scarcely +yet caught the distinctness of day, but was already beginning to +glisten with the gathering light, and, as far as I could see, was +desolate. I passed through and clambered out towards the south side +of the rock to watch the sea, if perchance some bit of floating +wreckage might explain the mystery of last night. I could see +nothing.</p> + +<p>Stay! What was that on the ledge below me, lying on the brink just +above the receding wave? A sailor's cap! Somehow, the sight made me +sick with horror. It must have been a full minute before I dared to +open my eyes and look again. Yes, it was there! The cry of last +night rang again in my ears with all its supreme agony as I stood in +the presence of this silent witness of the dead—this rag of clothing +that told so terrible a history.</p> + +<p>Child as I was, the silent terror of it made me faint and giddy. +I shut my eyes again, and clung, all trembling, to the ledge. +Not for untold bribes could I have gone down and touched that +terrible thing, but, as soon as the first spasm of fear was over, I +clambered desperately back and on to the sands again, as though all +the souls of the drowned were pursuing me.</p> + +<p>Once safe upon the beach, I recovered my scattered wits a little. +I felt that I could not repass that dreadful rock, so determined to +go across the sands to Polkimbra, and homewards around the cliffs. +Still gazing at the sea as one fascinated, I made along the length of +the beach. The storm had thrown up vast quantities of weed, that +lined the water's edge in straggling lines and heaps, and every heap +in turn chained and riveted my shuddering eyes, that half expected to +see in each some new or nameless horror.</p> + +<p>I was half across the beach, when suddenly I looked up towards +Polkimbra, and saw a man advancing towards me along the edge of the +tide.</p> + +<p>He was about two hundred yards from me when I first looked. Heartily +glad to see any human being after my great terror, I ran towards him +eagerly, thinking to recognise one of my friends among the Polkimbra +fishermen. As I drew nearer, however, without attracting his +attention—for the soft sand muffled all sound of footsteps—two +things struck me. The first was that I had never seen a fisherman +dressed as this man was; the second, that he seemed to watch the sea +with an absorbed and eager gaze, as if expecting to find or see +something in the breakers. At last I was near enough to catch the +outline of his face, and knew him to be a stranger.</p> + +<p>He wore no hat, and was dressed in a red shirt and trousers that +ended in rags at the knee. His feet were bare, and his clothes clung +dripping to his skin. In height he could not have been much above +five feet six inches, but his shoulders were broad, and his whole +appearance, cold and exhausted as he seemed, gave evidence of great +strength. His tangled hair hung over a somewhat weak face, but the +most curious feature about the man was the air of nervous expectation +that marked, not only his face, but every movement of his body. +Altogether, under most circumstances, I should have shunned him, but +fear had made me desperate. At the distance of about twenty yards I +stopped and called to him.</p> + +<p>I had advanced somewhat obliquely from behind, so that at the sound +of my voice he turned sharply round and faced me, but with a +terrified start that was hard to account for. On seeing only a +child, however, the hesitation faded out of his eyes, and he advanced +towards me. As he approached, I could see that he was shivering with +cold and hunger.</p> + +<p>"Boy," he said, in an eager and expectant voice, "what are you doing +out on the beach so early?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir!" I answered, "there was such a dreadful storm last night, +and we—that is, mother and I—heard a cry, we thought; and oh! +I have seen—"</p> + +<p>"What have you seen?"—and he caught me by the arm with a nervous +grip.</p> + +<p>"Only a cap, sir," I said, shrinking—"only a cap; but I climbed up +on Dead Man's Rock just now—the rock at the end of the beach—and I +saw a cap lying there, and it seemed—"</p> + +<p>"Come along and show it to me!" and he began to run over the sands +towards the rock, dragging me helpless after him.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he stopped.</p> + +<p>"You saw nothing else?" he asked, facing round and looking into my +eyes.</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"Nor anybody?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody, sir."</p> + +<p>"You are sure you saw nobody but me? You didn't happen to see a tall +man with black hair, and rings in his ears?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, sir."</p> + +<p>"You'll swear you saw no such man? Swear it now; say, 'So help me, +God, I haven't seen anybody on the beach but you.'"</p> + +<p>I swore it.</p> + +<p>"Say, 'Strike me blind if I have!'"</p> + +<p>I repeated the words after him, and, with a hurried look around, he +set off running again towards the rock. I had much ado to keep from +tumbling, and even from crying aloud with pain, so tight was his +grip. Fast as we went, the man's teeth chattered and his limbs +shook; his wet clothes flapped and fluttered in the cold morning +breeze; his face was drawn and pinched with exhaustion, but he never +slackened his pace until we reached Dead Man's Rock. Here he stopped +and looked around again.</p> + +<p>"Is there any place to hide in hereabouts?" he suddenly asked.</p> + +<p>The oddness of the question took me aback: and, indeed, the whole +conduct of the man was so strange that I was heartily frightened, and +longed greatly to run away. There was no help for it, however, so I +made shift to answer—</p> + +<p>"There is a nice cave in Ready-Money Cove, which is the next cove to +this, sir. The smugglers used to use it because it was hidden so, +but—"</p> + +<p>I suppose my eyes told him that I was wondering why he should want to +hide, for he broke in again—</p> + +<p>"Well, show me this cap. Out on the face of this rock, you say— +what's the name? Dead Man's Rock, eh? Well, it's an ugly name +enough, and an ugly rock enough!" he added, with a shiver.</p> + +<p>I climbed up the rock, and he after me, until we gained the ledge +where I had stood before. I looked down. The cap was still lying +there, and the tide had ebbed still further.</p> + +<p>My companion looked for a moment, then, with a short cry, scrambled +quickly down and picked it up. To me it had looked like any ordinary +sailor's cap, but he examined it, fingered it, and pulled it about, +muttering all the time, so that I imagined it must be his own, though +at a loss to know why he made so much of recovering it. At last he +climbed up again, holding it in his hands, and still muttering to +himself—</p> + +<p>"His cap, sure enough; nothing in it, though. But he was much too +clever a devil. However, he's gone right enough; I knew he must, and +this proves it, curse him! Well, I'll wear it. He's not left behind +as much as he thought, but mad enough he'd be to think I was his +heir. I'll wear it for old acquaintance' sake. Sit down, boy," he +said aloud to me; "we're safe here, and can't be seen. I want to +talk with you."</p> + +<p>The rocky ledge on which we stood was about seven feet long and three +or four in breadth. On one side of it ran down the path by which we +had ascended; the other end broke off with a sheer descent into the +sea of some forty feet in the present state of the tide. High above +us rose an unscaleable cliff; at our feet lay a short descent to the +ledge on which the cap had rested, and after that another precipice. +It was not a pleasant position in which to be left alone with this +strange companion, but I was helpless, and perhaps the trace of +weakness and a something not altogether evil in his face, gave me +some courage. Little enough it was, however, and in mere desperation +I sat down on the side by the path. My companion flung himself down +on the other side, with his legs dangling over the ledge, and so sat +for a minute or two watching the sea.</p> + +<p>The early sun was now up, and its oblique rays set the waves dancing +with a myriad points of fire. Above us the rock cast its shadow into +the green depths below, making them seem still greener and deeper. +To my left I could see the shining sands of Polkimbra, still +desolate, and, beyond, the purple line of cliffs towards Kynance; on +my right the rock hid everything from view, except the open sea and +the gulls returning after the tempest to inspect and pry into the +fresh masses of weed and wreckage. I looked timidly at my companion. +He was still gazing out towards the sea, apparently deep in thought. +The cap was on his head, and his legs still dangled, while he +muttered to himself as if unconscious of my presence. Presently, +however, he turned towards me.</p> + +<p>"Got anything to eat?"</p> + +<p>I had forgotten it in my terror, but I had, as I crossed the kitchen, +picked up a hunch of bread to serve me for breakfast. This, with a +half-apologetic air, as if to deprecate its smallness, I produced +from my pocket and handed to him. He snatched it without a word, and +ate it ravenously, keeping his eye fixed upon me in the most +embarrassing way.</p> + +<p>"Got any more?"</p> + +<p>I was obliged to confess I had not, though sorely afraid of +displeasing him. He turned still further towards me, and stared +without a word, then suddenly spoke again.</p> + +<p>"What is your name?"</p> + +<p>Truly this man had the strangest manner of questioning. However, I +answered him duly—</p> + +<p>"Jasper Trenoweth."</p> + +<p>"God in heaven! What?"</p> + +<p>He had started forward, and was staring at me with a wild surprise. +Unable to comprehend why my name should have this effect on him, but +hopeless of understanding this extraordinary man's behaviour, I +repeated the two words.</p> + +<p>His face had turned to an ashy white, but he slowly took his eyes off +me and turned them upon the sea, almost as though afraid to meet +mine. There was a pause.</p> + +<p>"Father by any chance answering to the name of Ezekiel—Ezekiel +Trenoweth?"</p> + +<p>Even in my fright I can remember being struck with this strange way +of speaking, as though my father were a dog; but a new fear had +gained possession of me. Dreading to hear the answer, yet wildly +anxious, I cried—</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes. Do you know him? He was coming home from Ceylon, and +mother was so anxious; and then, what with the storm last night and +the cry that we heard, we were so frightened! Oh! do you know +—do you think—"</p> + +<p>My words died away in terrified entreaty; but he seemed not to hear +me. Still gazing out on the sea, he said—</p> + +<p>"Sailed in the <i>Belle Fortune</i>, barque of 600 tons, or thereabouts, +bound for Port of Bristol? Oh, ay, I knew him—knew him well. +And might this here place be Lantrig?"</p> + +<p>"Our house is on the cliff above the next cove," I replied. +"But, oh! please tell me if anything has happened to him!"</p> + +<p>"And why should anything have happened to Ezekiel Trenoweth? +That's what I want to know. Why should anything have happened to +him?"</p> + +<p>He was still watching the waves as they danced and twinkled in the +sun. He never looked towards me, but plucked with nervous fingers at +his torn trousers. The gulls hovered around us with melancholy +cries, as they wheeled in graceful circles and swooped down to their +prey in the depths at our feet. Presently he spoke again in a +meditative, far-away voice—</p> + +<p>"Ezekiel Trenoweth, fair, broad, and six foot two in his socks; why +should anything have happened to him?"</p> + +<p>"But you seem to know him, and know the ship he sailed in. Tell me— +please tell me what has happened. Did you sail in the same ship? +And, if so, what has become of it?"</p> + +<p>"I sailed," said my companion, still examining the horizon, "from +Ceylon on the 12th of July, in the ship <i>Mary Jane</i>, bound for +Liverpool. Consequently, if Ezekiel Trenoweth sailed in the <i>Belle +Fortune</i> we couldn't very well have been in the same ship, and that's +logic," said he, turning to me for the first time with a watery and +uncertain smile, but quickly withdrawing his eyes to their old +occupation.</p> + +<p>But he had lifted a great load from my heart, so that for very joy at +knowing my father was not among the crew of the <i>Mary Jane</i> I could +not speak for a time, but sat watching his face, and thinking how I +should question him next.</p> + +<p>"Sailed in the <i>Mary Jane</i>, bound for Liverpool," he repeated, his +face twitching slightly, and his hands still plucking at his +trousers, "sailed along with—never mind who. And this boy's Ezekiel +Trenoweth's son, and I knew him; knew him well." His voice was +husky, and he seemed to have something in his throat, but he went on: +"Well, it's a strange world. To think of him being dead!" looking at +the cap—which he had taken off his head.</p> + +<p>"What! Father dead?"</p> + +<p>"No, my lad, t'other chap: him as this cap belonged to. Ah, he was a +devil, he was. Can't fancy him dead, somehow; seemed as though the +water wasn't made as could have drowned him; always said he was born +for the gallows, and joked about it. But he's gone this time, and +I've got his cap. 'Tis a hard thought that I should outlive him; +but, curse him, I've done it, and here's his cap for proof—why, what +the devil is the lad staring at?"</p> + +<p>During his muttered soliloquy I had turned for a moment to look +across Polkimbra Beach, when suddenly my eyes were arrested and my +heart again set violently beating by a sight that almost made me +doubt whether the events of the morning were not still part of a wild +and disordered dream. For there, at about fifty yards' distance, and +advancing along the breakers' edge, was another man, dressed like my +companion, and also watching the sea.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, boy? Speak, can't you?"</p> + +<p>"It's a man."</p> + +<p>"A man! Where?"</p> + +<p>He made a motion forwards to look over the edge, but checked himself, +and crouched down close against the rock.</p> + +<p>"Lie down!" he murmured in a hoarse whisper. "Lie down low and look +over."</p> + +<p>My arm was clutched as though by a vice. I sank down flat, and +peered over the edge.</p> + +<p>"It's a man," I said, "not fifty yards off, and coming this way. +He has on a red shirt, and is watching the sea just as you did. +I don't think that he saw us."</p> + +<p>"For the Lord's sake don't move. Look; is he tall and dark?"</p> + +<p>His terrified excitement was dreadful. I thought I should have had +to shriek with pain, so tightly he clutched me, but found voice to +answer—</p> + +<p>"Yes, he seems tall, and dark too, though I can't well see at—"</p> + +<p>"Has he got earrings?"</p> + +<p>"I can't see; but he walks with a stoop, and seems to have a sword or +something slung round his waist."</p> + +<p>"God defend us! that's he! Curse him, curse him! Lie down—lie +down, I say! It's death if he catches sight of us."</p> + +<p>We cowered against the rock. My companion's face was livid, and his +lips worked as though fingers were plucking at them, but made no +sound. I never saw such abject, hopeless terror. We waited thus for +a full minute, and then I peered over the ledge again.</p> + +<p>He was almost directly beneath us now, and was still watching the +sea. At his side hung a short sheath, empty. I could not well see +his face, but the rings in his ears glistened in the sunlight.</p> + +<p>I drew back cautiously, for my companion was plucking at my jacket.</p> + +<p>"Listen," he said—and his hoarse voice was sunk so low that I could +scarcely catch his words—"Listen. If he catches us it's death— +death to me, but perhaps he may let you off, though he's a +cold-blooded, murderous devil. However, there's no saying but you +might get off. Any way, it'll be safest for you to have this. +Here, take it quick, and stow it away in your jacket, so as he can't +see it. For the love of God, look sharp!"</p> + +<p>He took something out of a pocket inside his shirt, and forced it +into my hands. What it was I could not see, so quickly he made me +hide it in my jacket. But I caught a glimpse of something that +looked like brass, and the packet was hard and heavy.</p> + +<p>"It's death, I say; but you may be lucky. If he does for me, swear +you'll never give it up to him. Take your Bible oath you'll never do +that. And look here: if I'm lucky enough to get off, swear you'll +give it back. Swear it. Say, 'Strike me blind!'"</p> + +<p>He clutched me again. Shaking and trembling, I gave the promise.</p> + +<p>"And look, here's a letter; put it away and read it after. If he +does for me—curse him!—you keep what I've given you. Yes, keep it; +it's my last Will and Testament, upon my soul. But you ought to go +half shares with little Jenny; you ought, you know. You'll find out +where she lives in that there letter. But you'll never give it up to +him. Swear it. Swear it again."</p> + +<p>Again I promised.</p> + +<p>"Mind you, if you do, I'll haunt you. I'll curse you dying, and +that's an awful thing to happen to a man. Look over again. +He mayn't be coming—perhaps he'll go through to the next beach, and +then we'll run for it."</p> + +<p>Again I peered over, but drew back as if shot; for just below me was +a black head with glittering earrings, and its owner was steadily +coming up the path towards us.</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "4"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS HOW A SONG WAS SUNG AND A KNIFE DRAWN UPON DEAD MAN'S ROCK.</h3> +<br> + +<p>There was no escape. I have said that the ascent of Dead Man's Rock +was possible, but that was upon the northern side, from which we were +now utterly cut off. Hemmed in as we were between the sheer cliff +and the precipice, we could only sit still and await the man's +coming. Utter fear had apparently robbed my companion of all his +faculties, for he sat, a stony image of despair, looking with +staring, vacant eyes at the spot where his enemy would appear; while +as for me, dreading I knew not what, I clung to the rock and listened +breathlessly to the sound of the footsteps as they came nearer and +nearer. Presently, within about fifteen feet, as I guess, of our +hiding-place, they suddenly ceased, and a full, rich voice broke out +in song—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"Sing hey! for the dead man's eyes, my lads;<br> +<span class="ind2">Sing ho! for the dead man's hand;</span><br> + For his glittering eyes are the salt sea's prize,<br> + And his fingers clutch the sand, my lads—<br> +<span class="ind2">Sing ho! how they grip the land!</span><br></p> +<p class="noindent">"Sing hey! for the dead man's lips, my lads;<br> +<span class="ind2">Sing ho! for the dead man's soul.</span><br> + At his red, red lips the merrymaid sips<br> + For the kiss that his sweetheart stole, my lads— <br> +<span class="ind2">Sing ho! for the bell shall toll!"</span><br> + + +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>The words were full and clear upon the morning air—so clear that +their weird horror, together with the strangeness of the tune (which +had a curious catch in the last line but one) and, above all, the +sweetness of the voice, held me spellbound. I glanced again at my +companion. He had not changed his position, but still sat +motionless, save that his dry lips were again working and twitching +as though they tried to follow the words of the song. Presently the +footsteps again began to advance, and again the voice broke out—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"So it's hey! for the homeward bound, my lads,<br> +<span class="ind2">And ho! for the drunken crew.</span><br> + For his messmates round lie dead and drowned,<br> + And the devil has got his due, my Lads—<br> +<span class="ind2">Sing ho! but he—"</span><br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>He saw us. He had turned the corner, and stood facing us; and as he +faced us, I understood my companion's horror. The new-comer wore a +shirt of the same red colour as my comrade, and trousers of the same +stuff, but less cut and torn with the rocks. At his side hung an +empty sheath, that must once have held a short knife, and the handle +of another knife glittered above his waistband. But it was his face +that fascinated all my gaze. Even had I no other cause to remember +it, I could never forget the lines of that wicked mouth, or the +glitter in those cruel eyes as their first sharp flash of surprise +faded into a mocking and evil smile.</p> + +<p>For a minute or so he stood tranquilly watching our confusion, while +the smile grew more and more devilishly bland. Not a word was +spoken. What my comrade did I know not, but, for myself, I could not +take my eyes from that fiendish face.</p> + +<p>At last he spoke: in a sweet and silvery voice, that in company with +such eyes was an awful and fantastic lie, he spoke—</p> + +<p>"Well, this is pleasant indeed. To run across an old comrade in +flesh and blood when you thought him five fathom deep in the salt +water is one of the pleasantest things in life, isn't it, lad? +To put on sackcloth and ashes, to go about refusing to be comforted, +to find no joy in living because an old shipmate is dead and drowned, +and then suddenly to come upon him doing the very same for you—why, +there's nothing that compares with it for real, hearty pleasure; is +there, John? You seem a bit dazed, John: it's too good to be true, +you think? Well, it shows your good heart; shows what I call real +feeling. But you always were a true friend, always the one to depend +upon, eh, John? Why don't you speak, John, and say how glad you are +to see your old friend back, alive and hearty?"</p> + +<p>John's lips were trembling, and something seemed working in his +throat, but no sound came.</p> + +<p>"Ah, John, you were always the one for feeling a thing, and now the +joy is too much for you. Considerate, too, it was of you, and really +kind—but that's you, John, all over—to wear an old shipmate's cap +in affectionate memory. No, John, don't deprive yourself of it."</p> + +<p>The wretched man felt with quivering fingers for the cap, took it +off and laid it on the rock beside me, but never spoke.</p> + +<p>"And who is the boy, John? But, there, you were always one to +make friends. Everybody loves you; they can't help themselves. +Lucy loved you when she wouldn't look at me, would she? You were +always so gentle and quiet, John, except perhaps when the drink was +in you: and even then you didn't mean any harm; it was only your +play, wasn't it, John?"</p> + +<p>John's face was a shade whiter, and again something worked in his +throat, but still he uttered no word.</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow, John, it's a real treat to see you—and looking so +well, too. To think that we two, of all men, should have been on the +jib-boom when she struck! By the way, John, wasn't there another +with us? Now I come to think of it, there must have been another. +What became of him? Did he jump too, John?"</p> + +<p>John found speech at last. "No; I don't think he jumped." The words +came hoarsely and with difficulty. I looked at him; cold and +shivering as he was, the sweat was streaming down his face.</p> + +<p>"No? I wonder why."</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>"You're quite sure about it, John? Because, you know, it would be a +thousand pities if he were thrown up on this desolate shore without +seeing the faces of his old friends. So I hope you are quite sure, +John; think again."</p> + +<p>"He didn't jump."</p> + +<p>"No?"</p> + +<p>"He fell."</p> + +<p>"Poor fellow, poor fellow!" The words came in the softest, sweetest +tones of pity. "I suppose there is no mistake about his melancholy +end?"</p> + +<p>"I saw him fall. He just let go and fell; it's Bible oath, Captain— +it's Bible oath. That's how it happened; he just—let go—and fell. +I saw it with my very eyes, and—Captain, it was your knife." +To this effect John, with great difficulty and a nervous shifting +stare that wandered from the Captain to me until it finally rested +somewhere out at sea.</p> + +<p>The Captain gave a sharp keen glance, smiled softly, set his thin +lips together as though whistling inaudibly, and turned to me.</p> + +<p>"So you know John, my boy? He's a good fellow, is John; just the +sort of quiet, steady, Christian man to make a good companion for the +young. No swearing, drinking, or vice about John Railton; and so +truthful, too—the very soul of truth! Couldn't tell a lie for all +the riches of the Indies. Ah, you are in luck to have such a friend! +It's not often a good companion is such good company."</p> + +<p>I looked helplessly at the model of truth to see how he took this +tribute; but his eyes were still fixed in that eternal stare at the +sea.</p> + +<p>"And so, John, you saw him fall? 'Who saw him die?'—'I,' said the +soul of truth, 'with my little eye'—and you have very sharp eyes, +John. However, the poor fellow's gone; 'fell off,' you say? I don't +wonder you feel it so; but, John, with all our sympathy for the +unfortunate dead, don't you think this is a good opportunity for +reading the Will? We three, you know, may possibly never meet again, +and I am sure our young friend—what name did you say? Jasper?—I am +sure that our young friend Mr. Jasper would like the melancholy +satisfaction of hearing the Will."</p> + +<p>The man's eyes were devilish. John, as he faced about and caught +their gaze, looked round like a wild beast at bay.</p> + +<p>"Will? What do you mean? I don't know—I haven't got no Will."</p> + +<p>"None of your own, John, none of your own; but maybe you might know +something of the last Will and Testament of—shall we say—another +party? Think, John; don't hurry, think a bit."</p> + +<p>"Lord, strike me—"</p> + +<p>"Hush, John, hush! Think of our young friend Mr. Jasper. Besides, +you know, you were such a friend of the deceased—such a real +friend—and knew all his secrets so thoroughly, John, that I am sure +if you only consider quietly, you must remember; you who watched his +last moments, who saw him—'fall,' did you say?"</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>"Come, come, John; I'm sorry to press you, but really our young +friend and I must insist on an answer. For consider, John, if you +refuse to join in our conversation, we shall have to go—reluctantly, +of course, but still we shall have to go—and talk somewhere else. +Just think how very awkward that would be."</p> + +<p>"You devil—you devil!"</p> + +<p>John's voice was still hoarse and low, but it had a something in it +now that sounded neither of hope nor fear.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes; devil if you like: but the devil must have his due, you +know—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"And the devil has got his due, my lads—<br> +<span class="ind2">Sing hey! but he waits for you!</span><br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>"Yes, John, devil or no devil, <i>I'm</i> waiting for you. As to +having my due, why, a lucky fellow like you shouldn't grudge it. +Why, you've got Lucy, John: what more can you want? We both wanted +Lucy, but you got her, and now she's waiting at home for you. +It would be awkward if I turned up with the news that you were +languishing in gaol—I merely put a case, John—and little Jenny +wouldn't have many sweethearts if it got about that her father—and I +suppose you are her father—"</p> + +<p>Before the words were well out of his mouth John had him by the +throat. There was a short, fierce struggle, an oath, a gleam of +light—and then, with a screech of mortal pain and a wild clutch at +the air, my companion fell backwards over the cliff.</p> + +<p> +It was all the work of a moment—a shriek, a splash, and then +silence. How long the silence lasted I cannot tell. What happened +next—whether I cried or fainted, looked or shut my eyes—is to me an +absolute blank. Only I remember gradually waking up to the fact that +the Captain was standing over me, wiping his knife on a piece of weed +he had picked up on the rock, and regarding me with a steady stare.</p> + +<p>I now suppose that during those few moments my life hung in the +balance: but at the time I was too dazed and stunned to comprehend +anything. The Captain slowly replaced his knife, hesitated, went to +the ledge and peered over, and then finally came back to me.</p> + +<p>"Are you the kind of boy that's talkative?" His voice was as sweet as +ever, but his eyes were scorching me like live coals.</p> + +<p>I suppose I must have signified my denial, for he went on—</p> + +<p>"You heard what he called me? He called me a devil; a devil, mark +you; and that's what I am."</p> + +<p>In my state of mind I could believe anything; so I easily believed +this.</p> + +<p>"Being a devil, naturally I can hear what little boys say, no matter +where I am; and when little boys are talkative I can reach them, no +matter how they hide. I come on them in bed sometimes, and sometimes +from behind when they are not looking; there's no escaping me. +You've heard of Apollyon perhaps? Well, that's who I am."</p> + +<p>I had heard of Apollyon in Bunyan; and I had no doubt he was speaking +the truth.</p> + +<p>"I catch little boys when they are not looking, and carry them off, +and then their fathers and mothers don't see any more of them. +But they die very slowly, very slowly indeed—you will find out how +if ever I catch you talking."</p> + +<p>But I did not at all want to know; I was quite satisfied, and +apparently he was also; for, after staring at me a little longer, he +told me to get up and go down the rock in front of him.</p> + +<p>The agonies I suffered during that descent no pen can describe. +Every moment I expected to feel my shoulder gripped from behind, or +to feel the hands of some mysterious and infernal power around my +neck. Close behind me followed my companion, humming—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"And the devil has got his due, my lads—<br> +<span class="ind2">Sing hey! but he waits for you!</span><br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + + +<p>And though I was far from singing hey! at the prospect, I felt that +he meant what he said.</p> + +<p>Arrived at the foot of the rock, we passed through the archway on to +Ready-Money Cove. Turning down to the edge of the sea, the Captain +scanned the water narrowly, but there was no trace of the hapless +John. With a muttered curse, he began quickly to climb out along the +north side of the rock, just above the sea-level, and looked again +into the depths. Once more he was disappointed. Flinging off his +clothes, he dived again and again, until from sheer exhaustion he +crept out, bundled on his shirt and trousers, and climbed back to me.</p> + +<p>"Curse him! where can he be?"</p> + +<p>I now saw for the first time how terribly worn and famished the man +was: he looked like a wolf, and his white teeth were bare in his +rage. He had cut his foot on the rock. Still keeping his evil eye +upon me, he knelt down by the water's edge and began slowly to bathe +the wound.</p> + +<p>"By the way, boy, what did you say your name was? Jasper? Jasper +what?"</p> + +<p>"Trenoweth."</p> + +<p>"Ten thousand devils!"</p> + +<p>He was on his feet, and had gripped me by the shoulder with a furious +clutch. I turned sick and cold with terror. The blue sky swam and +circled around me: then came mist and black darkness, lit only by the +gleam of two terrible eyes: a shout—and I knew no more.</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "5"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS HOW THE SAILOR GEORGIO RHODOJANI GAVE EVIDENCE AT THE +"LUGGER INN."</h3><br> + +<p>I came gradually back to consciousness amid a buzz of voices. +Uncle Loveday was bending over me, his every button glistening with +sympathy, and his face full of kindly anxiety. What had happened, or +how I came to be lying thus upon the sand, I could not at first +remember, until my gaze, wandering over my uncle's shoulder, met the +Captain's eyes regarding me with a keen and curious stare.</p> + +<p>He was standing in the midst of a small knot of fishermen, every now +and then answering their questions with a gesture, a shrug of the +shoulders, or shake of the head; but chiefly regarding my recovery +and waiting, as I could see, for me to speak.</p> + +<p>"Poor boy!" said Uncle Loveday. "Poor boy! I suppose the sight of +this man frightened him."</p> + +<p>I caught the Captain's eye, and nodded feebly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, yes. You see," he explained, turning to the shipwrecked +man, "your sudden appearance upset him: and to tell you the honest +truth, my friend, in your present condition—in your present +condition, mind you—your appearance is perhaps somewhat—startling. +Shall we say, startling?"</p> + +<p>In answer to my uncle's apologetic hesitation the stranger merely +spread out his palms and shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes. A foreigner evidently. Well, well, although our coast is +not precisely hospitable, I believe its inhabitants are at any rate +free from that reproach. Jasper, my boy, can you walk now? If so, +Joseph here will see you home, and we will do our best for the—the— +foreign gentleman thus unceremoniously cast on our shores."</p> + +<p>My uncle seemed to regard magnificence of speech as the natural due +of a foreigner: whether from some hazy conception of "foreign +politeness," or a hasty deduction that what was not the language of +one part of the world must be that of another, I cannot say. At any +rate, the fishermen regarded him approvingly as the one man who +could—if human powers were equal to it—extricate them from the +present deadlock.</p> + +<p>"You do not happen, my friend, to be in a position to inform us +whether any—pardon the expression—any corpses are now lying on the +rocks to bear witness to this sad catastrophe?"</p> + +<p>Again the stranger made a gesture of perplexity.</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear! I forgot. Jasper, when you get home, read very +carefully that passage about the Tower of Babel. Whatever the cause +of that melancholy confusion, its reality is impressed upon us when +we stand face to face with one whom I may perhaps be allowed to call, +metaphorically, a dweller in Mesopotamia."</p> + +<p>As no one answered, my uncle took silence for consent, and called him +so twice—to his own great satisfaction and the obvious awe of the +fishermen.</p> + +<p>"It is evident," he continued, "that this gentleman (call him by what +name you will) is in immediate need of food and raiment. If such, as +I do not doubt, can be obtained at Polkimbra, our best course is to +accompany him thither. I trust my proposition meets with his +approval."</p> + +<p>It met, at any rate, with the approval of the fishermen, who +translated Uncle Loveday's speech into gestures. Being answered with +a nod of the head and a few hasty foreign words, they began to lead +the stranger away in their midst. As he turned to go, he glanced for +the last time at me with a strange flickering smile, at which my +heart grew sick. Uncle Loveday lingered behind to adjure Joe to be +careful of me as we went up the cliff, and then, with a promise that +he would run in to see mother later in the day, trotted after the +rest. They passed out of sight through the archway of Dead Man's +Rock.</p> + +<p>For a minute or so we plodded across the sand in silence. Joe +Roscorla was Uncle Loveday's "man," a word in our parts connoting +ability to look after a horse, a garden, a pig or two, or, indeed, +anything that came in the way of being looked after. At the present +moment I came in that way; consequently, after some time spent in +reflective silence, Joe began to speak.</p> + +<p>"You'm looking wisht."</p> + +<p>"Am I, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"Mortal."</p> + +<p>There was a pause: then Joe continued—</p> + +<p>"I don't hold by furriners: let alone they be so hard to get +along with in the way of convarsing, they be but a heathen lot. +But, Jasper, warn't it beautiful?"</p> + +<p>"What, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"Why, to see the doctor tackle the lingo. Beautiful, I culls it; but +there, he's a scholard, and no mistake, and 'tain't no good for to +say he ain't. Not as ever I've heerd it said."</p> + +<p>"But, Joe, the man didn't seem to understand him."</p> + +<p>"Durn all furriners, say I; they be so cursed pigheaded. Understand? +I'll go bail he understood fast enough."</p> + +<p>Joe's opinions coincided so fatally with my certainty that I held my +tongue. + +"A dweller in—what did he call the spot, Jasper?"</p> + +<p>"Mesopotamia."</p> + +<p>"Well, I can't azacly say as I've seen any from them parts, but they +be all of a piece. Thicky chap warn't in the way when prettiness was +sarved out, anyhow. Of all the cut-throat chaps as ever I see—Mark +my words, 'tain't no music as he's come after."</p> + +<p>This seemed so indisputable that I did not venture to contradict it.</p> + +<p>"I bain't clear about thicky wreck. Likely as not 'twas the one I +seed all yesterday tacking about: and if so be as I be right, a +pretty lot of lubbers she must have had aboard. Jonathan, the +coast-guard, came down to Lizard Town this morning, and said he seed +a big vessel nigh under the cliffs toward midnight, or fancied he +seed her: but fustly Jonathan's a buffle-head, and secondly 'twas +pitch-dark; so if as he swears there weren't no blue light, 'tain't +likely any man could see, let alone a daft fule like Jonathan. +But, there, 'tain't no good for to blame he; durn Government! say I, +for settin' one man, and him a born fule, to mind seven mile o' coast +on a night when an airey mouse cou'dn' see his hand afore his face."</p> + +<p>"What was the vessel like, Joe, that you saw?"</p> + +<p>"East Indyman, by the looks of her; and a passel of lubberin' +furriners aboard, by the way she was worked. I seed her miss stays +twice myself: so when Jonathan turns up wi' this tale, I says to +myself, 'tis the very same. Though 'tis terrible queer he never +heard nowt; but he ain't got a ha'porth o' gumption, let alone that +by time he's been cloppin' round his seven mile o' beat half a dozen +ships might go to kingdom come."</p> + +<p>With this, for we had come to the door of Lantrig, Joe bid me +good-bye, and turned along the cliffs to seek fresh news at +Polkimbra.</p> + +<p>Instead of going indoors at once I watched his short, oddly-shaped +figure stride away, and then sat down on the edge of the cliff for a +minute to collect my thoughts. The day was ripening into that mellow +glory which is the peculiar grace of autumn. Below me the sea, still +flaked with spume, was gradually heaving to rest; the morning light +outlined the cliffs in glistening prominence, and clothed them, as +well as the billowy clouds above, with a reality which gave the lie +to my morning's adventure. The old doorway, too, looked so familiar +and peaceful, the old house so reassuring, that I half wondered if I +had not two lives, and were not coming back to the old quiet everyday +experience again.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I remembered the packet and the letter. I put my hand into +my pocket and drew them out. The packet was a tin box, strapped +around with a leathern band: on the top, between the band and the +box, was a curious piece of yellow metal that looked like the half of +a waist-buckle, having a socket but without any corresponding hook. +On the metal were traced some characters which I could not read. +The tin box was heavy and plain, and the strap soaking with salt +water.</p> + +<p>I turned to the letter; it was all but a pulp, and in its present +state illegible. Carefully smoothing it out, I slipped it inside the +strap and turned to hide my prize; for such was my fear of the man +who called himself Apollyon, that I could know no peace of mind +whilst it remained about me. How should I hide it? After some +thought, I remembered that a stone or two in the now empty cow-house +had fallen loose. With a hasty glance over my shoulder, I crept +around and into the shed. The stones came away easily in my hand. +With another hurried look, I slipped the packet into the opening, +stole out of the shed, and entered the house by the back door.</p> + +<p>My mother had been up for some time—it was now about nine o'clock— +and had prepared our breakfast. Her face was still pale, but some of +its anxiety left it as I entered. She was evidently waiting for me +to speak. Something in my looks, however, must have frightened her, +for, as I said nothing, she began to question me.</p> + +<p>"Well, Jasper, is there any news?"</p> + +<p>"There was a ship wrecked on Dead Man's Rock last night, but they've +not found anything except—"</p> + +<p>"What was it called?"</p> + +<p>"The <i>Mary Jane</i>—that is—I don't quite know."</p> + +<p>Up to this time I had forgotten that mother would want to know about +my doings that morning. As an ordinary thing, of course I should +have told her whatever I had seen or heard, but my terror of the +Captain and the awful consequences of saying too much now flashed +upon me with hideous force. I had heard about the <i>Mary Jane</i> from +the unhappy John. What if I had already said too much? I bent over +my breakfast in confusion.</p> + +<p>After a dreadful pause, during which I felt, though I could not see, +the astonishment in my mother's eyes, she said—</p> + +<p>"You don't quite know?"</p> + +<p>"No; I think it must have been the <i>Mary Jane</i>, but there was a +strange sailor picked up. Uncle Loveday found him, and he seemed to +be a foreigner, and he said—I mean—I thought—it was the name, +but—"</p> + +<p>This was worse and worse. Again at my wits' end, I tried to go on +with my breakfast. After awhile I looked up, and saw my mother +watching me with a look of mingled surprise and reproach.</p> + +<p>"Was this sailor the only one saved?"</p> + +<p>"No—that is, I mean—yes; they only found one."</p> + +<p>I had never lied to my mother before, and almost broke down with the +effort. Words seemed to choke me, and her saddening eyes filled me +with torment.</p> + +<p>"Jasper dear, what is the matter with you? Why are you so strange?"</p> + +<p>I tried to look astonished, but broke down miserably. Do what I +would, my eyes seemed to be beyond my control; they would not meet +her steady gaze.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Loveday is coming up later on. He's looking after the Cap—I +mean the sailor, and said he would run in afterwards."</p> + +<p>"What is this sailor like?"</p> + +<p>This question fairly broke me down. Between my dread of the Captain +and her pained astonishment, I could only sit stammering and longing +for the earth to gape and swallow me up. Suddenly a dreadful +suspicion struck my mother.</p> + +<p>"Jasper! Jasper! it cannot be—you cannot mean—that it was <i>his</i> +ship?"</p> + +<p>"No, mother, no! Father is all right. He said—I mean—it was not +his ship."</p> + +<p>"Oh! thank God! But you are hiding something from me! What is it? +Jasper dear, what are you hiding?"</p> + +<p>"Mother, I <i>think</i> it was the <i>Mary Jane</i>. But it was not father's +ship. Father's all right. And, mother, don't ask me any more; Uncle +Loveday will tell all about it. And—I'm not very well, mother. I +think—"</p> + +<p>Want of sleep, indeed, and the excitement of the morning, had broken +me down. My mother stifled her desire to hear more, and tenderly saw +me to bed, guessing my fatigue, but only dimly apprehensive of +anything beyond. In bed I lay all that morning, but could get no +sleep. The vengeance of that dreadful man seemed to fill the little +room and charge the atmosphere with horror. "I come on them in bed +sometimes, and sometimes from behind when they're not looking"—the +words rang in my ears, and could not be muffled by the bed-clothes; +whilst, if I began to doze, the dreadful burthen of his song—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"And the devil has got his due, my lads—<br> +<span class="ind2">Sing ho! but he waits for you!"—</span><br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>With the peculiar catch of its lilt, would suddenly make me start up, +wide awake, with every nerve in my body dancing to its grisly +measure.</p> + +<p>At last, towards noon, I dozed off into a restless slumber, but only +to see each sight and hear each sound repeated with every grotesque +and fantastic variation. Dead Man's Rock rose out of a sea of blood, +peopled with hundreds of ghastly faces, each face the distorted +likeness of John or the Captain. Blood was everywhere—on their +shirts, their hands, their faces, in splashes across the rock itself, +in vivid streaks across the spume of the sea. The very sun peered +through a blood-red fog, and the waves, the mournful gulls, the +echoes from the cliff, took up the everlasting chorus, led by one +silvery demoniac voice—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"Sing ho! but he waits for you!"<br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>Finally, as I lay tossing and tormented with this phantom horror in +my eyes and ears, the sound died imperceptibly away into the soft +hush of two well-known voices, and I opened my eyes to see mother +with Uncle Loveday standing at my bedside.</p> + +<p>"The boy's a bit feverish," said my uncle's voice; "he has not got +over his fright just yet."</p> + +<p>"Hush! he's waking!" replied my mother; and as I opened my eyes she +bent down and kissed me. How inexpressibly sweet was that kiss after +the nightmare of my dream!</p> + +<p>"Jasper dear, are you better now? Try to lie down and get some more +sleep."</p> + +<p>But I was eager to know what news Uncle Loveday had to tell, so I sat +up and questioned him. There was little enough; though, delivered +with much pomp, it took some time in telling. Roughly, it came to +this:—</p> + +<p>A body had been discovered—the body of a small infant—washed up on +the Polkimbra Beach. This would give an opportunity for an inquest; +and, in fact, the coroner was to arrive that afternoon from Penzance +with an interpreter for the evidence of the strange sailor, who, it +seemed, was a Greek. Little enough had been got from him, but he +seemed to imply that the vessel had struck upon Dead Man's Rock from +the south-west, breaking her back upon its sunken base, and then +slipping out and subsiding in the deep water. It must have happened +at high tide, for much coffee and basket-work was found upon +high-water line. This fixed the time of the disaster at about +4 a.m., and my mother's eyes met mine, as we both remembered that it +was about that hour when we heard the wild despairing cry. For the +rest, it was hopeless to seek information from the Greek sailor +without an interpreter; nor were there any clothes or identifying +marks on the child's body. The stranger had been clothed and fed at +the Vicarage, and would give his evidence that afternoon. Hitherto, +the name of the vessel was unknown.</p> + +<p>At this point my mother's eyes again sought mine, and I feared fresh +inquiries about the <i>Mary Jane</i>; but, luckily, Uncle Loveday had +recurred to the question of the Tower of Babel, on which he delivered +several profound reflections. Seeing me still disinclined to +explain, she merely sighed, and was silent.</p> + +<p>But when Uncle Loveday had broken his fast and, rising, announced +that he must drive down to be present at the inquest, to our +amazement, mother insisted upon going with him. Having no suspicion +of her deadly fear, he laughed a little at first, and quoted Solomon +on the infirmities of women to an extent that made me wonder what +Aunt Loveday would have said had he dared broach such a subject to +that strong-minded woman. Seeing, however, that my mother was set +upon going, he desisted at last, and put his cart at her service. +Somewhat to her astonishment, as I could see, I asked to be allowed +to go also, and, after some entreaty, prevailed. So we all set out +behind Uncle Loveday's over-fed pony for Polkimbra.</p> + +<p>There was a small crowd around the door of the "Lugger Inn" when we +drove up. It appeared that the coroner had just arrived, and the +inquest was to begin at once. Meanwhile, the folk were busy with +conjecture. They made way, however, for my uncle, who, being on such +occasions a person of no little importance, easily gained us entry +into the Red Room where the inquiry was about to be held. As we +stepped along the passage, the landlord's parrot, looking more than +ever like Aunt Elizabeth, almost frightened me out of my wits by +crying, "All hands lost! All hands lost! Lord ha' mercy on us!" Its +hoarse note still sounded in my ears, when the door opened, and we +stood in presence of the "crowner's quest."</p> + +<p>I suppose the Red Room of the "Lugger" was full; and, indeed, as the +smallest inquest involves at least twelve men and a coroner, to say +nothing of witnesses, it must have been very full. But for me, as +soon as my foot crossed the threshold, there was only one face, only +one pair of eyes, only one terrible presence, to be conscious of and +fear. I saw him at once, and he saw me; but, unless it were that his +cruel eye glinted and his lips grew for the moment white and fixed, +he betrayed no consciousness of my presence there.</p> + +<p>The coroner was speaking as we entered, but his voice sounded as +though far away and faint. Uncle Loveday gave evidence, and I have a +dim recollection of two rows of gleaming buttons, but nothing more. +Then Jonathan, the coast-guardsman, was called. He had seen, or +fancied he saw, a ship in distress near Gue Graze; had noticed no +light nor heard any signal of distress; had given information at +Lizard Town. The rocket apparatus had been got out, and searchers +had scoured the cliffs as far as Porth Pyg, but nothing was to be +seen. The search-party were returning, when they found a shipwrecked +sailor in company with a small boy, one Jasper Trenoweth, in +Ready-Money Cove.</p> + +<p>At the sound of my own name I started, and for the second time since +our entry felt the eyes of the stranger question me. At the same +time I felt my mother's clasp of my hand tighten, and knew that she +saw that look.</p> + +<p>The air grew closer and the walls seemed to draw nearer as Jonathan's +voice continued its drowsy tale. The afternoon sun poured in at the +window until it made the little wainscoted parlour like an oven, but +still for me it only lit up one pair of eyes. The voices sounded +more and more like those of a dream; the scratching of pens and +shuffling of feet were, to my ears, as distant murmurs of the sea, +until the coroner's voice called—"Georgio Rhodojani."</p> + +<p>Instantly I was wide awake, with every nerve on the stretch. Again I +felt his eyes question me, again my mother's hand tightened upon +mine, as the stranger stood up and in softest, most musical tones +gave his evidence. And the evidence of Georgio Rhodojani, Greek +sailor, as translated by Jacopo Rousapoulos, interpreter, of +Penzance, was this:—</p> + +<p>"My name is Georgio Rhodojani. I am a Greek by birth, and have been +a sailor all my life. I was seaman on board the ship which was +wrecked last night on your horrible coast. The ship belonged to +Bristol, and was homeward bound, but I know neither her name nor the +name of her captain."</p> + +<p>At this strange opening, amazement fell upon all. For myself, the +wild incongruity of this foreign tongue from lips which I had heard +utter such fluent and flute-like English swallowed up all other +wonder.</p> + +<p>After a pause, seeing the marvelling looks of his audience, the +witness quietly explained—</p> + +<p>"You wonder at this; but I am Greek, and cannot master your hard +names. I joined the ship at Colombo as the captain was short of +hands. I was wrecked in a Dutch vessel belonging to Dordrecht, off +Java, and worked my passage to Ceylon, seeking employment. It is +not, therefore, extraordinary that I am so ignorant, and my mouth +cannot pronounce your English language, but show me your list of +ships and I will point her out to you."</p> + +<p>There was a rustling of papers, and a list of East Indiamen was +handed up to him: he hastily ran his finger over the pages. Suddenly +his face lighted up.</p> + +<p>"Ah! this is she!—this is the ship that was wrecked last night!"</p> + +<p>The coroner took the paper and slowly read out—"The <i>James and +Elizabeth</i>, of Bristol. Captain—Antonius Merrydew."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, that is she. The babe here was the captain's child, born +on the voyage. There were eighteen men on board, an English boy, and +the captain's wife. The child was born off the African coast. +We sailed from Colombo on the 22nd of July last, with a cargo of +coffee and sugar. Two days ago we were off a big harbour, of which I +do not know the name; but early yesterday morning were abreast of +what you call, I think, the Lizard. The wind was S.W., and took us +into your terrible bay. All yesterday we were tacking to get out. +Towards evening it blew a gale. The captain had been ill ever since +we passed the Bay of Biscay. We hoisted no signal, and knew not what +to do, for the captain was sick, and the mate drunk. The mate began +to cry when we struck. I alone got on to the jib-boom and jumped. +What became of the others I know not, but I jumped on to the rock by +which you found me this morning. The vessel broke up in a very short +time. I heard the men crying bitterly, but the mate's voice was +louder than any. The captain of course was below, and so, when last +I saw them, were his wife and child, but she might have rushed upon +deck. I was almost sucked back twice, but managed to scramble up. +It was not until daylight that I knew I was on the mainland, and +climbed down to the sands."</p> + +<p>As this strange history proceeded, I know not who in that little +audience was most affected. The jury, fascinated by the sweet voice +of the speaker, as well as the mystery about the vessel and its +unwitnessed disappearance, leant forward in their seats with strained +and breathless attention. My mother could not take her eyes off the +stranger's face. As he hesitated over the name of the ship, her very +lips grew white in agonised suspense, but when the coroner read "the +<i>James and Elizabeth</i>," she sank back in her seat with a low +"Thank God!" that told me what she had dreaded, and how terribly. +I myself knew not what to think, nor if my ears had heard aright. +Part of the tale I knew to be a lie; but how much? And what of the +<i>Mary Jane?</i> I looked round about. A hush had succeeded the closing +words of Rhodojani. Even the coroner was puzzled for a moment; but +improbable as the evidence might seem, there was none to gainsay it. +I alone, had they but known it, could give this demon the lie—I, an +unnoticed child.</p> + +<p>The coroner put a question or two and then summed up. Again the old +drowsy insensibility fell upon me. I heard the jury return the +usual verdict of "Accidental Death," and, as my mother led me from +the room, the voice of Joe Roscorla (who had been on the jury) +saying, "Durn all foreigners! I don't hold by none of 'em." As the +door slammed behind us, shutting out at last those piercing eyes, a +shrill screech from the landlord's parrot echoed through the house—</p> + +<p>"All hands lost! Lord ha' mercy on us!"</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "6"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS HOW A FACE LOOKED IN AT THE WINDOW OF LANTRIG;<br> AND IN WHAT +MANNER MY FATHER CAME HOME TO US.</h3><br> + +<p>My mother and I walked homeward together by way of the cliffs. +We were both silent. My heart ached to tell the whole story, and +prove that my tale of the <i>Mary Jane</i> was no wanton lie; but fear +restrained me. My mother was busy with her own thoughts. She had +seen, I knew, the glance of intelligence which the stranger gave me; +she guessed that his story was a lie and that I knew it. What she +could not guess was the horror that held my tongue fastened as with a +padlock. So, both busy with bitter thoughts, we walked in silence to +Lantrig.</p> + +<p>The evening meal was no better. My food choked me, and after a +struggle I was forced to let it lie almost untouched. But when the +fire was stirred, the candles lit, and I drew my footstool as usual +to her feet by the hearth, the old room looked so warm and cosy that +my pale fears began to vanish in its genial glow. I had possessed +myself of the "Pilgrim's Progress," and the volume, a dumpy octavo, +lay on my knee. As I read the story of Christian and Apollyon to its +end, a new courage fought in me with my morning fears.</p> + +<p>"In this combat no man can imagine, unless he has seen and heard as I +did, what yelling and hideous roaring Apollyon made all the time of +the fight: he <i>spake like a dragon</i>; and, on the other side, what +sighs and groans burst from Christian's heart. I never saw him all +the while give so much as one pleasant look, till he perceived that +he had wounded Apollyon with his two-edged sword; then indeed he did +smile and look upward! but it was the dreadfullest sight that ever I +saw."</p> + +<p>I glanced up at my mother, half resolved. She was leaning forward a +little and gazing into the fire, that lit up her pale face and +wonderful eyes with a sympathetic softness. I can remember now how +sweet she looked and how weary—that tender figure outlined in warm +glow against the stern, dark room. And all the time her heart was +slowly breaking with yearning for him that came not. I did not know +it then; but when does childhood know or understand the suffering of +later life? I looked down upon the page once more, turned back a +leaf or two, and read:</p> + +<p>"Then did Christian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind +whether to go back or stand his ground. But he considered again that +he had no armour for his back, and therefore thought that to turn his +back to him might give him greater advantage, with ease to pierce him +with his darts; therefore he resolved to venture and stand his +ground."</p> + +<p>"I come on them in bed sometimes, and sometimes from behind." +The words of my Apollyon came across my mind. Should I speak and +seek counsel?—What was that?</p> + +<p>It was a tear that fell upon my hand as it lay across my mother's +lap. Since the day when father left us I had never seen her weep. +Was it for my deceit? I looked up again and saw that her eyes were +brimming with sorrow. My fears and doubts were forgotten. I would +speak and tell her all my tale.</p> + +<p>"Mother."</p> + +<p>Somewhat ashamed at being discovered, she dried her eyes and tried to +smile—a poor pitiful smile, with the veriest ghost of joy in it.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jasper."</p> + +<p>"Is Apollyon still alive?"</p> + +<p>"He stands for the powers of evil, Jasper, and they are always +alive."</p> + +<p>"But, I mean, does he walk about the world like a man? Is he +<i>really</i> alive?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no, Jasper. What nonsense has got into your head now?"</p> + +<p>"Because, mother, I met him to-day. That is, he said he was +Apollyon, and that he would come and carry me off if—"</p> + +<p>Half apprehensive at my boldness, I cast an anxious look around as I +spoke. Nothing met my eyes but the familiar furniture and the +dancing shadows on the wall, until their gaze fell upon the window, +and rested there, whilst my heart grew suddenly stiff with terror, +and my tongue clave to my mouth.</p> + +<p>As my voice broke off suddenly, mother glanced at me in expectation. +Seeing my fixed stare and dropped jaw, she too looked at the window, +then started to her feet with a shriek.</p> + +<p>For there, looking in upon us with a wicked smile, was the white face +of the sailor Rhodojani.</p> + +<p>For a second or two, petrified with horror, we stood staring at it. +The evil smile flickered for a moment, baring the white teeth and +lighting the depths of those wolfish eyes; then, with a fiendish +laugh, vanished in the darkness.</p> + +<p>He had, then, told the truth when he promised to haunt me. +Beyond the shock of mortal terror, I was but little amazed. +It seemed but natural that he should come as he had threatened. +Only I was filled with awful expectation of his vengeance, and stood +aghast at the consequences of my rashness. By instinct I turned to +my mother for protection.</p> + +<p>But what ailed her? She had fallen back in her chair and was still +staring with parted lips at the dark pane that a minute ago had +framed the horrid countenance. When at last she spoke, her words +were wild and meaningless, with a dreadful mockery of laughter that +sent a swift pang of apprehension to my heart.</p> + +<p>"Mother, it is gone. What is the matter?"</p> + +<p>Again a few meaningless syllables and that awful laugh.</p> + +<p>And so throughout that second awful night did she mutter and laugh, +whilst I, helpless and terror-stricken, strove to soothe her and +recall her to speech and sense. The slow hours dragged by, and still +I knelt before her waiting for the light. The slow clock sounded the +hours, and still she gave no sign of understanding. The mice crept +out of their accustomed holes and jumped back startled at her laugh. +The fire died low and the candles died out; the wind moaned outside, +the tamarisk branches swished against the pane; the hush of night, +with its intervals of mysterious sound, held the house; but all the +time she never ceased to gaze upon the window, and every now and +then to mutter words that were no echo of her mind or voice. +Daylight, with its premonitory chill, crept upon us at last, but oh, +how slowly! Daylight looked in and found us as that cruel sight had +left us, helpless and alone.</p> + +<p>But with daylight came some courage. Had there been neighbours near +Lantrig I should have run to summon them before, but Polkimbra was +the nearest habitation, and Polkimbra was almost two miles off, +across a road possessed by horrors and perhaps tenanted by that +devilish face. And how could I leave my mother alone? But now that +day had come I would run to Lizard Town and see Uncle Loveday. +I slipped on my boots, unbolted the door, cast a last look at my +mother still sitting helpless and vacant of soul, and rushed from the +house. The sound of her laughter rang in my ears as the door closed +behind me.</p> + +<p>Weak, haggard and wild of aspect, I ran and stumbled along the +cliffs. Dead Man's Rock lay below wrapped in a curtain of mist. +Thick clouds were rolling up from seaward; the grey light of +returning day made sea, sky and land seem colourless and wan. +But for me there was no sight but Polkimbra ahead. As I gained the +little village I ran down the hill to the "Lugger" and knocked upon +the door. Heavens! how long it was before I was answered. At last +the landlady's head appeared at an upper window. With a few words to +Mrs. Busvargus, which caused that worthy soul to dress in haste with +many ejaculations, I raced up the hill again and across the downs for +Lizard Town. My strength was giving way; my head swam, my sides +ached terribly, my legs almost refused to obey my will, and a +thousand lights danced and sparkled before my eyes, but still I kept +on, now staggering, now stumbling, but still onward, nor stopped +until I stood before Uncle Loveday's door.</p> + +<p>There at last I fell; but luckily against the door, so that in a +moment or two I became conscious of Aunt Elizabeth standing over me +and regarding me as a culprit caught red-handed in some atrocious +crime.</p> + +<p>"Hoity-toity! What's the matter now? Why, it's Jasper! Well, of +all the freaks, to come knocking us up! What's the matter with the +boy? Jasper, what ails you?"</p> + +<p>Incoherently I told my story, at first to Aunt Elizabeth alone, but +presently, in answer to her call, Uncle Loveday came down to hear. +The pair stood silent and wondering.</p> + +<p>They were not elaborately dressed. Aunt Elizabeth, it is true, was +smothered from head to foot in a gigantic Inverness cape, that might +have been my uncle's were it not obviously too large for that little +man. Her nightcap, on the other hand, was ostentatiously her own. +No other woman would have had strength of mind to wear such a +head-dress. Uncle Loveday's costume was even more singular; for the +first time I saw him without a single brass button, and for the first +time I understood how much he owed to those decorations. His first +words were—</p> + +<p>"Jasper, I hope you are telling me the truth. Your mother told me +yesterday of some cock-and-bull story concerning the <i>Anna Maria</i> or +some such vessel. I hope this is not another such case. I have told +you often enough where little boys who tell falsehoods go to."</p> + +<p>My white face must have been voucher for my truth on this occasion; +for Aunt Elizabeth cut him short with the single word "Breakfast," +and haled me into the little parlour whilst the pair went to dress.</p> + +<p>As I waited, I heard the sound of the pony without, and presently +Aunt Elizabeth returned in her ordinary costume to worry the small +servant who laid breakfast. Whether Uncle Loveday ever had that meal +I do not know to this day, for whilst it was being prepared I saw him +get into the little carriage and drive off towards Lantrig. I was +told that I could not go until I had eaten; and so with a sore heart, +but no thought of disobedience, I turned to breakfast.</p> + +<p>The meal had scarcely begun when the door opened and Master Thomas +Loveday sauntered into the room. Master Thomas Loveday, a youth of +some eight summers, was, in default of a home of his own, quartered +permanently upon my uncle, whose brother's son he was. His early +days had been spent in India. After, however, both father and mother +had succumbed to the climate of Madras, he was sent home to England, +and had taken root in Lizard Town. Hitherto, his life had been one +long lazy slumber. Whenever we were sent, on his rare visits to +Lantrig, to "play together," as old age always rudely puts it, his +invariable rule had been to go to sleep on the first convenient spot. +Consequently his presence embarrassed me not a little. He was a +handsome boy, with blue eyes, long lashes, fair hair, and a gentle +habit of speech. When I came to know him better, I learnt the quick +wit and subtle power that lay beneath his laziness of manner; but at +present the soul of Thomas Loveday slept.</p> + +<p>He was certainly not wide awake when he entered the room. With a +sleepy nod at me, and no trace of surprise at my presence, he pursued +his meal. Occasionally, as Aunt Elizabeth put a fresh question, he +would regard her with a long stare, but otherwise gave no sign of +animation. This finally so exasperated my aunt that she addressed +him—</p> + +<p>"Thomas, do not stare."</p> + +<p>Thomas looked mildly surprised for a moment, and then inquired, "Why +not?"</p> + +<p>"Does the boy think I'm a wild Indian?" The question was addressed +to me, but I could not say, so kept a discreet silence. Thomas +relieved me from my difficulty by answering, "No," thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Then why stare so? I'm sure I don't know what boys are made of, +nowadays."</p> + +<p>"Slugs and snails and puppy-dogs' tails," was the dreamy answer.</p> + +<p>"Thomas, how dare you? I should like to catch the person who taught +you such nonsense. I'd teach him!"</p> + +<p>"It was Uncle Loveday," remarked the innocent Thomas.</p> + +<p>There was an awful pause; which I broke at length by asking to be +allowed to go. Aunt Elizabeth saw her way to getting rid of the +offender.</p> + +<p>"Thomas, you might walk with Jasper over the downs to Lantrig. +It will be nice exercise for you."</p> + +<p>"It may be exercise, aunt, but—"</p> + +<p>"Do not answer me, but go. Where do you expect little boys will go +to, who are always idle?"</p> + +<p>"Sleep?" hazarded Thomas.</p> + +<p>"Thomas, you shall learn the whole of Dr. Watts's poem on the +sluggard before you go to bed this night."</p> + +<p>At this the boy slowly rose, took his cap, stood before her, and +solemnly repeated the whole of that melancholy tale, finishing the +last line at the door and gravely bowing himself out. I followed, +awestruck, and we set out in silence.</p> + +<p>At first, anxiety for my mother possessed all my thoughts, but +presently I ventured to congratulate Tom on his performance.</p> + +<p>"She has read it to me so often," replied he, "that I can't help +knowing it. I hate Dr. Watts, and I love to go to sleep. I dream +such jolly things. Sleep is ever so much nicer than being awake, +isn't it?"</p> + +<p>I wanted sleep, having had but little for two nights, and could +therefore agree with him.</p> + +<p>"You get such jolly adventures when you dream," said Tom, +reflectively.</p> + +<p>I had been rather surfeited with adventures lately, so held my peace.</p> + +<p>"Now, real life is so dull. If one could only meet with +adventures—"</p> + +<p>I caught the sound of wheels behind us, and turned round. We had +struck off the downs on to the high road. A light gig with one +occupant was approaching us. As it drew near the driver hailed us.</p> + +<p>"Hullo! lads, is this the road for Polkimbra?"</p> + +<p>The speaker was a short, grizzled, seafaring man, with a kind face +and good-humoured mouth. He drove execrably, and pulled his quiet +mare right back upon her haunches.</p> + +<p>I answered that it was.</p> + +<p>"Are you bound for there? Yes? Jump up then. I'll give you a +lift."</p> + +<p>I looked at Tom; he, of course, was ready for anything that would +save trouble, so we clambered up beside the stranger.</p> + +<p>"There was a wreck there yesterday, I've heard," said he, after we +had gone a few yards, "and an inquest, and, by the tale I heard, a +lot of lies told."</p> + +<p>I started. The man did not notice it, but continued—</p> + +<p>"Maybe you've heard of it. Well, it's a rum world, and a fine lot of +lies gets told every day, but you don't often get so accomplished a +liar as that chap—what's his name? Blessed if I can tackle it; not +but what it's another lie, I'll wager."</p> + +<p>I was listening intently. He continued more to himself than to us—</p> + +<p>"An amazing liar, though I wonder what his game was. It beats me; +beats me altogether. The '<i>James and Elizabeth</i>,' says he, as large +as life. I take it the fellow couldn't 'a been fooling who brought +the news to Falmouth. Didn't know me from Adam, and was fairly put +about when he saw how I took it, and, says he, ''twas the <i>James and +Elizabeth</i> the chap said, as sure as I stand here.' Boy, do you +happen to know the name of the vessel that ran ashore here, night +afore last?"</p> + +<p>I had grown accustomed to being asked this dreadful question, and +therefore answered as bravely as I could. "The <i>James and +Elizabeth</i>, sir."</p> + +<p>"Captain's name?"</p> + +<p>"Captain Antonius Merrydew."</p> + +<p>"Ah, poor chap! He was lying sick below when she struck, wasn't he? +And he had a wife aboard, and a child born at sea, hadn't he? +Fell sick in the Bay o' Biscay, like any land-lubber, didn't he? +Why, 'tis like play-actin'; damme! 'tis better than that."</p> + +<p>With this the man burst into a shout of laughter and slapped his +thigh until his face grew purple with merriment.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye think of it, boy, for a rare farce? Was ever the likes of +it heard? Captain Antonius Merrydew sick in the Bay o' Biscay! +Ho, ho! Where's play-actin' beside it?"</p> + +<p>"Wasn't it true, sir?"</p> + +<p>"True? God bless the boy! Look me in the face: look me in the +face, and then ask me if it's true."</p> + +<p>"But why should it not be true, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Because I am Captain Antonius Merrydew!"</p> + +<p>For the rest of the journey I sat stunned. Thomas beside me was wide +awake and staring, seeing his way to an adventure at last. It was I +that dreamed—I heard without comprehension the rest of the captain's +tale:—how he had come, after a quick passage from Ceylon, to +Falmouth with the barque <i>James and Elizabeth</i>, just in time to hear +of this monstrous lie; how he was unmarried, and never had a day's +illness in his life; how, suspecting foul play, he had hired a horse +and gig with a determination to drive over to Polkimbra and learn the +truth; how a horse and gig were the most cursedly obstinate of +created things; with much besides in the way of oaths and +ejaculations. All this I must have heard, for memory brought them +back later; but I did not listen. My life and circumstances had got +the upper hand of me, and were dancing a devil's riot.</p> + +<p>At last, after much tacking and porting of helm, we navigated +Polkimbra Hill and cast anchor before the "Lugger." There we +alighted, thanked the captain, and left him piping all hands to the +horse's head. His cheery voice followed us down to the sands.</p> + +<p>We had determined to cut across Polkimbra Beach and climb up to +Lantrig by Ready-Money Cliffs, as in order to go along the path above +the cliffs we should have to ascend Polkimbra Hill again. The beach +was so full of horror to me that without a companion I could not have +crossed it; but Tom's presence lent me courage. Tom was nearer to +excitement than I had ever seen him; he grew voluble; praised the +captain, admired his talk, and declared adventure to be abroad in the +air—in fact, threw up his head as though he scented it.</p> + +<p>Yes, adventure was in the air. It was not exactly to my taste, +however, nor did the thought of my poor mother at home make me more +sympathetic with Tom's ecstasy; so whilst he chattered I strode +gloomily forward over the beach.</p> + +<p>The day was drawing towards noon. October was revelling in an +after-taste of summer, and smiled in broad glory over beach and sea. +A light breeze bore eastward a few fleecy clouds, and the waves +danced and murmured before its breath. Their salt scent was in +our nostrils, and the glitter of the sand in our eyes. Black and +sombre in the clear air, Dead Man's Rock rose in gloomy isolation +from the sea, while the sea-birds swept in glistening circles round +its summit. But what was that at its base?</p> + +<p>Seemingly, a little knot of men stood at the water's edge. As we +drew nearer I could distinguish their forms but not their occupation, +for they stood in a circle, intent on some object in their midst +concealed from our view. Presently, however, they fell into a rough +line as though making for the archway to Ready-Money Cove. Something +they carried among them, and continually stooped over; but what it +was I could not see. Their pace was very slow, but they turned into +the arch and were disappearing, when I caught sight of the uncouth +little figure of Joe Roscorla among the last, and ran forward, +hailing him by name.</p> + +<p>At the sound of my voice Joe started, turned round and made a slow +pause; then, with a few words to his neighbour, came quickly towards +me. As he drew near, I saw that his face was white and his manner +full of embarrassment; but he put on a smile, and spoke first—</p> + +<p>"Why, Jasper, what be doin' along here?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going home. Has Uncle Loveday seen mother? And is she better?"</p> + +<p>"Aw iss, he've a seen her an' she be quieter: leastways, he be bound +to do her a power o' good. But what be goin' back for? 'Tain't no +use botherin' indoors wi' your mother in thicky wisht state. +Run about an' get some play."</p> + +<p>"What were you doing down by the Rock just now, Joe?"</p> + +<p>Joe hesitated for a while; stammered, and then said, "Nuthin."</p> + +<p>"But, Joe, you were doing something: what were you carrying over to +Ready-Money?"</p> + +<p>"Look-ee here, my lad, run an' play, an' doan't ax no questions. +'Tain't for little boys to ax questions. Now I comes to think of it, +Doctor said as you was to stay over to Lizard Town, 'cos there ain't +no need of a passel of boys in a sick house: so run along back."</p> + +<p>Joe's voice had a curious break in it, and his whole bearing was so +unaccountable that I did not wonder when Tom quietly said—</p> + +<p>"Joe, you're telling lies."</p> + +<p>Now Joe was, in an ordinary way, the soul of truth: so I looked for +an explosion. To my surprise, however, he took no notice of the +insult, but turned again to me—</p> + +<p>"Jasper, lad, run along back: do'ee now."</p> + +<p>His voice was so full of entreaty that a sudden suspicion took hold +of me.</p> + +<p>"Joe, is—has anything happened to mother?"</p> + +<p>"Noa, to be sure: she'll be gettin' well fast enough, if so be as you +let her be."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll go and see Uncle Loveday, and find out if I am really to +go back."</p> + +<p>I made a motion to go, but he caught me quickly by the arm.</p> + +<p>"Now, Jasper, doan't-'ee go: run back, I tell'ee—run back—I tell'ee +you <i>must</i> go back."</p> + +<p>His words were so earnest and full of command that I turned round and +faced him. Something in his eyes filled me with sickening fear.</p> + +<p>"Joe, what were you carrying?"</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>"Joe, what were you carrying?"</p> + +<p>Still no answer; but an appealing motion of the hand.</p> + +<p>"Joe, what was it?"</p> + +<p>"Go back!" he said, hoarsely. "Go back!"</p> + +<p>"I will not, until I have seen what you were carrying."</p> + +<p>"Go back, boy: for God's sake go back!"</p> + +<p>I wrenched myself from his grasp, and ran with all speed. Joe and +Tom followed me, but fear gave me fleetness. Behind I could hear +Joe's panting voice, crying, "Come back!" but the agony in his tone +set me running faster. I flew through the archway, and saw the small +procession half-way across the cove. At my shout they halted, +paused, and one or two advanced as if to stop me. But I dashed +through their hands into their midst, and saw—God in heaven! +What? The drowned face of my father!</p> + +<p>Tenderly as women they lifted me from the body. Gently and with +tear-stained faces, they stood around and tried to comfort me. +Reverently, while Joe Roscorla held me in his arms behind, they took +up the corpse of him they had known and loved so well, and carried it +up the cliffs to Lantrig. As they lifted the latch and bore the body +across the threshold, a yell of maniac laughter echoed through the +house to the very roof.</p> + +<p>And this was my father's "Welcome Home!"</p> + +<p>Nay, not all; for as Uncle Loveday started to his feet, the door +behind him flew open, and my mother, all in white, with very madness +in her eyes, rushed to the corpse, knelt, caught the dead hand, +kissed and fondled the dead face, cooing and softly laughing the +while with a tender rapture that would have moved hell itself to +pity.</p> + +<p>In this manner it was that these two fond lovers met.</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "7"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS HOW UNCLE LOVEDAY MADE A DISCOVERY;<br> AND WHAT THE TIN BOX +CONTAINED.</h3><br> + +<p>An hour afterwards I was sitting at the bedside of my dying mother. +The shock of that terrible meeting had brought her understanding—and +death: for as her mind returned her life ebbed away. White and +placid she lay upon her last bed, and spoke no word; but in her eyes +could be read her death-warrant, and by me that which was yet more +full of anguish, a tender but unfading reproach. This world is full +of misunderstandings, but seldom is met one so desperate. How could +I tell her now? And how could she ever understand? It was all too +late. "Too late! too late!" the words haunted me there as the bright +sun struggled through the drawn blind and illumined her saintly face. +They and the look in her sweet eyes have haunted me many a day since +then, and would be with me yet, did I not believe she knows the truth +at last. There are too many ghosts in my memories for Heaven to +lightly add this one more.</p> + +<p>She was dying—slowly and peacefully dying, and this was the end of +her waiting. He had returned at last, this husband for whose coming +she had watched so long. He had returned at last, after all his +labour, and had been laid at her feet a dead man. She was free to go +and join her love. To me, child as I was, this was sorely cruel. +Death, as I know now, is very merciful even when he seems most +merciless, but as I sat and watched the dear life slowly drift away +from me, it was a hard matter to understand.</p> + +<p>The pale sunlight came, and flickered, and went; but she lay to all +seeming unchanged. Her pulse's beat was failing—failing; the broken +heart feebly struggling to its rest; but her sad eyes were still the +same, appealing, questioning, rebuking—all without hope of answer or +explanation. So were they when the sobbing fishermen lifted her from +the body, so would they be until closed for the last sleep. It was +very cruel.</p> + +<p>My father's body lay in the room below, with Uncle Loveday and Mrs. +Busvargus for watchers. Now and again my uncle would steal softly +upstairs, and as softly return with hopelessness upon his face. +The clock downstairs gave the only sound I heard, as it marked the +footsteps of the dark angel coming nearer and nearer. Twice my +mother's lips parted as if to speak; but though I bent down to catch +her words, I could hear no sound.</p> + +<p>So, as I sat and watched her waxen face, all the sweet memories of +her came back in a sad, reproachful train. Once more we sat together +by the widowed hearth, reading: once more we stood upon the rocky +edge of Pedn-glas and looked into the splendours of the summer sunset +"for father's ship:" once more we knelt together in Polkimbra Church, +and prayed for his safe return: once more I heard that sweet, low +voice—once more? Ah, never, never more!</p> + +<p>Uncle Loveday stole into the room on tip-toe, and looked at her; then +turned and asked—</p> + +<p>"Has she spoken yet?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>He was about to leave when the lips parted again, and this time she +spoke—</p> + +<p>"He is coming, coming. Hush! that is his step!"</p> + +<p>The dark eyes were ablaze with expectation: the pale cheek aglow with +hope. I bent down over the bed, for her voice was very low.</p> + +<p>"He is coming, I know it. Listen! Oh, husband, come quicker, +quicker!"</p> + +<p>Alas! poor saint, the step you listen for has gone before, and is +already at the gate of heaven.</p> + +<p>"He is here! Oh, husband, husband, you have come for me!"</p> + +<p>A moment she sat up with arms outstretched, and glory in her face; +then fell back, and the arms that caught her were the arms of God.</p> + +<p> +After the first pang of bereavement had spent itself, Uncle Loveday +got me to bed, and there at last I slept. The very bewilderment of +so much sorrow enforced sleep, and sleep was needed: so that, worn +out with watching and excitement, I had not so much as a dream to +trouble me. It was ten o'clock in the morning when I awoke, and saw +my uncle sitting beside the bed. Another sun was bright in the +heavens outside: the whole world looked so calm and happy that my +first impulse was to leap up and run, as was my custom, to mother's +room. Then my eyes fell on Uncle Loveday, and the whole dreadful +truth came surging into my awakened brain. I sank back with a low +moan upon the pillow.</p> + +<p>Uncle Loveday, who had been watching me, stepped to the bed and took +my hand.</p> + +<p>"Jasper, boy, are you better?"</p> + +<p>After a short struggle with my grief, I plucked up heart to answer +that I was.</p> + +<p>"That's a brave boy. I asked, because I have yet to tell you +something. I am a doctor, you know, Jasper, and so you may take my +word when I say there is no good in what is called 'breaking news.' +It is always best to have the pain over and done with; at least, +that's my experience. Now, my dear boy, though God knows you have +sorrow enough, there is still something to tell: and if you are the +boy I take you for, it is best to let you know at once."</p> + +<p>Dimly wondering what new blow fortune could deal me, I sat up in bed +and looked at my uncle helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Jasper, you think—do you not—that your father was drowned?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, uncle."</p> + +<p>"He was not drowned."</p> + +<p>"Not drowned!"</p> + +<p>"No, Jasper, he was murdered."</p> + +<p>The words came slowly and solemnly, and even with the first shock of +surprise the whole truth dawned upon me. This, then, explained the +effect my name had wrought upon those two strange men. This was the +reason why, as we sat together upon Dead Man's Rock, the eyes of John +Railton had refused to meet mine: this was the reason why his +murderer had gripped me so viciously upon Ready-Money Beach. +These few words of my uncle's began slowly to piece together the +scattered puzzle of the last two days, so that I half guessed the +answer as I asked—</p> + +<p>"Murdered! How?"</p> + +<p>"He was stabbed to death."</p> + +<p>I knew it, for I remembered the empty sheath that hung at Rhodojani's +waist, and heard again Railton's words, "Captain, it was your knife." +As certainly as if I had fitted the weapon to its case, I knew that +man had prompted father's murder. Even as I knew it my terror of him +faded away, and a blind and helpless hate sprang up in its stead: +helpless now, but some day to be masterful and worthy of heed. +That the man who called himself Georgio Rhodojani was guilty of one +death, I knew from the witness of my own eyes: that he had two more +lives upon his black account—for the hand that struck my father had +also slain my mother—I knew as surely.</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"And the devil has got his due, my lads!"<br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>No, not yet: there was still one priceless soul for him to wait for.</p> + +<p>"He was stabbed," repeated Uncle Loveday, "stabbed to the heart, and +from behind. I found this blade as I examined your poor father's +body. It was broken off close to the hilt, and left in the wound, +which can hardly have bled at all. Death must have been immediate. +It's a strange business, Jasper, and a strange blade by the look of +it."</p> + +<p>I took the blade from his hand. It was about four inches in length, +sharp, and curiously worked: one side was quite plain, but the other +was covered with intricate tracery, and down the centre, bordered +with delicate fruit and flowers, I spelt out the legend "Ricordati."</p> + +<p>"What does that word mean?" I asked, as I handed back the steel. +My voice was so calm and steady that Uncle Loveday glanced at me for +a moment in amazement before he answered—</p> + +<p>"It's not Latin, Jasper, but it's like Latin, and I should think must +mean 'Remember,' or something of the sort."</p> + +<p>"'Remember,'" I repeated. "I will, uncle. As surely as father was +murdered, I will remember—when the time comes."</p> + +<p>They were strange words from a boy. My uncle looked at me again, but +doubtless thinking my brain turned with grief, said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Have you told anybody?" I asked at length.</p> + +<p>"I have seen nobody. There will be an inquest, of course, but in +this case an inquest can do nothing. Murderer and murdered have both +gone to their account. By the way, I suppose nothing has been seen +of the man who gave evidence. It was an unlikely tale; and this +makes it the more suspicious. Bless my soul!" said my uncle, +suddenly, "to think it never struck me before! Your father was to +sail in the <i>Belle Fortune</i>, and this man gave the name of the ship +as the <i>James and Elizabeth</i>."</p> + +<p>"It was the <i>Belle Fortune</i>, and the man told a falsehood."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it must have been."</p> + +<p>"I know it was."</p> + +<p>"Know? How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"Because the <i>James and Elizabeth</i> is lying at this moment in +Falmouth Harbour, and her captain is down at the 'Lugger.'"</p> + +<p>Thereupon I told how I had met with Captain Antonius Merrydew. +Nay, more, for my heart ached for confidence, I recounted the whole +story of my meeting with John Railton, and the struggle upon Dead +Man's Rock. Every word I told, down to the dead man's legacy—the +packet and letter which I hid in the cow-house. As the tale +proceeded my uncle's eyes grew wider and wider with astonishment. +But I held on calmly and resolutely to the end, nor after the first +shock of wonderment did he doubt my sanity or truthfulness, but grew +more and more gravely interested.</p> + +<p>When I had finished my narrative there was a long silence. Finally +Uncle Loveday spoke—</p> + +<p>"It's a remarkable story—a very remarkable story," he said, slowly +and thoughtfully. "In all my life I have never heard so strange a +tale. But the man must be caught. He cannot have gone far, if, as +you say, he was here at Lantrig only the night before last. I expect +they are on the look-out for him down at Polkimbra since they have +heard the captain's statement; but all the same I will send off Joe +Roscorla, who is below, to make sure. I must have a pipe, Jasper, to +think this over. As a general rule I am not a smoker: your aunt does +not—ahem!—exactly like the smell. But it collects the thoughts, +and this wants thinking over. Meanwhile, you might dress if you feel +well enough. Run to the shed and get the packet; we will read it +over together when I have finished my pipe. It is a remarkable +story," he repeated, as he slowly opened the door, "a most marvellous +story. I must have a pipe. A most—remarkable—tale."</p> + +<p>With this he went downstairs and left me to dress.</p> + +<p>I did so, and ran downstairs to the cow-shed. No one had been there. +With eager fingers I tore away the bricks from the crumbling mortar, +and drew out my prize. The buckle glittered in the light that stole +through the gaping door. All was safe, and as I left it.</p> + +<p>Clutching my treasure, I ran back to the house and found Mrs. +Busvargus spreading the midday meal. Until that was over, I knew +that Uncle Loveday would not attack the mystery. He was sitting +outside in the front garden smoking solemnly, and the wreaths of his +pipe, curling in through the open door, filled the house with +fragrance.</p> + +<p>I crept upstairs to my mother's door, and reverently entered the +dim-lit room. They had laid the two dead lovers side by side upon +the bed. Very peacefully they slept the sleep that was their +meeting—peacefully as though no wickedness had marred their lives or +wrought their death. I could look upon them calmly now. My father +had left his heritage—a heritage far different from that which he +went forth to win; but I accepted it nevertheless. Had they known, +in heaven, the full extent of that inheritance, would they not, as I +kissed their dead lips in token of my acceptance, have given some +sign to stay me? Had I known, as I bent over them, to what the oath +in my heart would bring me, would I even then have renounced it? +I cannot say. The dead lips were silent, and only the dead know what +will be.</p> + +<p>Uncle Loveday was already at table when I descended. But small was +our pretence of eating. Mrs. Busvargus, it is true, had lost no +appetite through sorrow; but Mrs. Busvargus was accustomed to such +scenes, and in her calling treated Death with no more to-do than she +would a fresh customer at her husband's inn. Long attendance at +death-beds seemed to have given that good woman a perennial youth, +and certainly that day she seemed to have lost the years which I had +gained. Uncle Loveday made some faint display of heartiness; but it +was the most transparent feigning. He covered his defection by +pressing huge helpings upon me, so that my plate was bidding fair to +become a new Tower of Babel, when Mrs. Busvargus interposed and swept +the meal away; after which she disappeared into the back kitchen to +"wash up," and was no more seen; but we heard loud splashings at +intervals as if she had found a fountain, and were renewing her youth +in it.</p> + +<p>Left to ourselves, we sat silent for a while, during which Uncle +Loveday refilled and lit his pipe and plunged again into thought, +with his eyes fixed on the rafters. Whether because his cogitations +led to something, or the tobacco had soothed him sufficiently, he +finally turned to me and asked—</p> + +<p>"Have you got that packet?"</p> + +<p>I produced it. He took his big red handkerchief from his pocket, +spread it on the table, and began slowly to undo the strap. +Then after arranging apart the buckle, the letter, and the tin box, +he inquired—</p> + +<p>"Was it like this when the man gave it to you?"</p> + +<p>"No, the letter was separate. I slipped it under the strap to keep +it safe."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me," said my uncle, adjusting his spectacles and +unfolding the paper, "illegible, or almost so. It has evidently been +thoroughly soaked with salt water. Come here and see if your young +eyes can help me to decipher it."</p> + +<p>We bent together over the blurred handwriting. The letter was +evidently in a feminine hand; but the characters were rudely and +inartistically formed, while every here and there a heavy down-stroke +or flourish marred the beauty of the page. Wherever such thick lines +occurred the ink had run and formed an illegible smear. Such as it +was, with great difficulty, and after frequent trials, we spelt out +the letter as follows:—</p> + +<blockquote> +<p> "The Welc … Home, Barbican, Plymo."<br> + "My Deerest Jack,—This to hope it will find You quite well, as + it leaves Me at present. Also to say that I hope this voyage + … <i>new Leaf</i> with Simon as Companny, who is a <i>Good + Friend</i>, though, as you well know, I did not think … came + <i>courting me</i>. But it is for the best, and … liquor … + which I pray to Heaven may begin happier Days. Trade is very + poor, and I do not know … little Jenny, who is getting on + <i>Famously</i> with her Schooling. She keaps the Books already, + which is a great saving … looks in often and sits in the + parlour. He says as you have Done Well to be … <i>Wave</i>, but + misdoubts Simon, which I tell him must be wrong, for it was him + that advised … the fuss and warned against liquor, which he + never took Himself. Jenny is so Fond of her Books, and says she + will <i>teech you to write</i> when you come home, which will be a + great <i>Comfort</i>, you being away so long and never a word. And I + am doing wonders under her teaching, which I dare say she will + let you know of it all in the letter she is writing to go along + with this … Simon to write for you, who is a … scholar, + which is natural … in the office. So that I wonder he left + it, having no taste for the sea that ever I heard … be the + making of you both. I forgot to tell … very strange when he + left, but what with the hurry and bussle it <i>slipped my mind</i> + … wonderful to me to think of, my talking to you so natural + … distance. And so no more at present from your loving + wife," + "LUCY RAILTON."</p> + +<p> "Jenny says … will not alter, being more like as if it came + from me. Munny is very scarce. I wish you could get …"</p> + +</blockquote> +<p>This was all, and small enough, as I thought, was the light it threw +on the problem before us. Uncle Loveday read it over three or four +times; then folded up the letter and looked at me over his +spectacles.</p> + +<p>"You say this cut-throat fellow—this Rhodojani, as he called +himself—spoke English?"</p> + +<p>"As well as we do. He and the other spoke English all the time."</p> + +<p>"H'm! And he talked about a Jenny, did he?"</p> + +<p>"He was saying something about 'Jenny not finding a husband' when +John Railton struck him."</p> + +<p>"Then it's clear as daylight that he's called Simon, and not Georgio. +Also if I ever bet (though far be it from me) I would bet my buttons +that his name is no more Rhodojani than mine is Methuselah."</p> + +<p>He paused for a moment, absorbed in thought; then resumed—</p> + +<p>"This Lucy Railton is John Railton's wife and keeps a public-house +called the 'Welcome Home!' on the Barbican, Plymouth. Simon, that is +to say Rhodojani, was in love with Lucy Railton, and his conduct, +says she, was strange before leaving; but he pretended to be John +Railton's friend, and, from what you say, must have had an +astonishing influence over the unhappy man. Simon, we learn, is a +scholar," pursued my uncle, after again consulting the letter, "and I +see the word 'office' here, which makes it likely that he was a clerk +of some kind, who took to the sea for some purpose of his own, and +induced Railton to go with him, perhaps for the same purpose, perhaps +for another. Anyhow, it seems it was high time for Railton to go +somewhere, for besides the references to liquor, which tally with +Simon's words upon Dead Man's Rock, we also meet with the ominous +words 'the fuss,' wherein, Jasper, I find the definite article not +without meaning."</p> + +<p>Uncle Loveday was beaming with conscious pride in his own powers of +penetration. He acknowledged my admiring attention with a modest +wave of the hand, and then proceeded to clear his throat +ostentatiously, as one about to play a trump card.</p> + +<p>"As I say, Jasper, this fellow must have had some purpose to drag him +off to sea from an office stool—some strong purpose, and, from what +we know of the man, some ungodly purpose. Now, the question is, What +was it? On the Rock, as you say, he charged John Railton with having +a certain Will in his possession. Your father started from England +with a Will in his possession. This is curious, to say the +least—very curious; but I do not see how we are to connect this with +the man Simon's sudden taste for the sea, for, you know, he could not +possibly have heard of Amos Trenoweth's Will."</p> + +<p>"You and aunt were the only people father told of it."</p> + +<p>"Quite so; and your father (excuse me, Jasper) not being a born fool, +naturally didn't cry his purpose about the streets of Plymouth when +he took his passage. Still, it's curious. Your father sailed from +Plymouth and this pair of rascals sailed from Plymouth—not that +there's anything in that; hundreds sail out of the Sound every week, +and we have nothing to show when Simon and John started—it may have +been before your father. But look here, Jasper, what do you make of +that?"</p> + +<p>I bent over the letter, and where my uncle's finger pointed, read, +"He says as you have Done Well to be … <i>Wave</i>."</p> + +<p>"Well, uncle?"</p> + +<p>"Well, my boy; what do you make of it?"</p> + +<p>"I can make nothing of it."</p> + +<p>"No? You see that solitary word '<i>Wave</i>'?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What was the ship called in which your father sailed?"</p> + +<p>"The <i>Golden Wave</i>."</p> + +<p>"That's it, the <i>Golden Wave</i>. Now, what do you make of it?"</p> + +<p>My uncle leaned back in his chair and looked at me over his +spectacles, with the air of one who has played his trump card and +watches for its effect. A certain consciousness of merit and +expectancy of approbation animated his person; his reasoning +staggered me, and he saw it, nor was wholly displeased. +After waiting some time for my reply, he added—</p> + +<p>"Of course I may be wrong, but it's curious. I do not think I am +wrong, when I mark what it proves. It proves, first, that these two +ruffians—for ruffians they both were, as we must conclude, in spite +of John Railton's melancholy end—it proves, I say, that these two +sailed along with your father. They come home with him, are wrecked, +and your father's body is found—murdered. Evidence, slight +evidence, but still worthy of attention, points to them. Now, if it +could be proved that they knew, at starting or before, of your +father's purpose, it would help us; and, to my mind, this letter goes +far to prove that wickedness of some sort was the cause of their +going. What do you think?"</p> + +<p>Uncle Loveday cleared his throat and looked at me again with +professional pride in his diagnosis. There was a pause, broken only +by Mrs. Busvargus splashing in the back kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" said my uncle, "is that woman taking headers? +Come, Jasper, what do you think?"</p> + +<p>"I think," I replied, "we had better look at the tin box."</p> + +<p>"Bless my soul! There's something in the boy, after all. I had +clean forgotten it."</p> + +<p>The box was about six inches by four, and some four inches in depth. +The tin was tarnished by the sea, but the cover had been tightly +fastened down and secured with a hasp and pin. Uncle Loveday drew +out the pin, and with some difficulty raised the lid. Inside lay a +tightly-rolled bundle of papers, seemingly uninjured. These he drew +out, smoothed, and carefully opened.</p> + +<p>As his eyes met the writing, his hand dropped, and he sank back—a +very picture of amazement—in his chair.</p> + +<p>"My God!"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"It's your father's handwriting!"</p> + +<p>I looked at this last witness cast up by the sea and read, "The +Journal of Ezekiel Trenoweth, of Lantrig."</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "8"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3> + +<h3> +CONTAINS THE FIRST PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL;<br> SETTING FORTH HIS +MEETING WITH MR. ELIHU SANDERSON, OF BOMBAY;<br> AND MY GRANDFATHER'S +MANUSCRIPT.</h3><br> + +<p>It was indeed my father's Journal, thus miraculously preserved to us +from the sea. As we sat and gazed at this inanimate witness, I +doubt not the same awe of an all-seeing Providence possessed the +hearts of both of us. Little more than twenty-four hours ago had my +dead father crossed the threshold of his home, and now his voice had +come from the silence of another world to declare the mystery of his +death. It was some minutes before Uncle Loveday could so far control +his speech as to read aloud this precious manuscript. And thus, in +my father's simple language, embellished with no art, and tricked out +in no niceties of expression, the surprising story ran:—</p> + +<p>"May 23rd, 1848.—Having, in obedience to the instructions of my +father's Will, waited upon Mr. Elihu Sanderson, of the East India +Company's Service, in their chief office at Bombay, and having from +him received a somewhat singular communication in my father's +handwriting, I have thought fit briefly to put together some record +of the same, as well as of the more important events of my voyage, +not only to refresh my own memory hereafter, if I am spared to end my +days in peace at Lantrig, but also being impelled thereto by certain +strange hints conveyed in this same communication. These hints, +though I myself can see no ground for them, would seem to point +towards some grave bodily or spiritual peril; and therefore it is my +plain duty, seeing that I leave a beloved wife and young son at home, +to make such provision that, in case of misadventure or disaster, +Divine Providence may at least have at my hands some means whereby to +inform them of my fate. For this reason I regret the want of +foresight which prevented my beginning some such record at the +outset; but as far as I can reasonably judge, my voyage has hitherto +been prosperous and without event. Nevertheless, I will shortly set +down what I can remember as worthy of remark before I landed at this +city of Bombay, and trust that nothing of importance has slipped my +notice.</p> + +<p>"On the 3rd of February last I left my home at Lantrig, travelling by +coach to Plymouth, where I slept at the 'One and All' in Old Town +Street, being attracted thither by the name, which is our Cornish +motto. The following day I took passage for Bombay in the <i>Golden +Wave</i>, East Indiaman, Captain Jack Carey, which, as I learnt, was due +to sail in two days. It had been my intention, had no suitable +vessel been found at Plymouth, to proceed to Bristol, where the +trade is much greater; but on the Barbican—a most evil-smelling +neighbourhood—it was my luck to fall in with a very entertaining +stranger, who, on hearing my case, immediately declared it to be a +most fortunate meeting, as he himself had been making inquiries to +the same purpose, and had found a ship which would start almost +immediately. He had been, it appeared, a lawyer's clerk, but on the +death of his old employer (whose name escapes my memory), finding his +successor a man of difficult temper, and having saved sufficient +money to be idle for a year or two, had conceived the wish to travel, +and chosen Bombay, partly from a desire to behold the wonders of the +Indies, and partly to see his brother, who held a post there in the +East India Company's service. Having at the time much leisure, he +kindly offered to show me the vessel, protesting that should I find +it to my taste he was anxious for the sake of the company to secure a +passage for himself. So very agreeable was his conversation that I +embraced the opportunity which fortune thus threw in my way. +The ship, on inspection, proved much to our liking, and Captain Carey +of so honest a countenance, that the bargain was struck without more +ado. I was for returning to the 'One and All,' but first thought it +right to acquaint myself with the name of this new friend. He was +called Simon Colliver, and lived, as he told me, in Stoke, whither he +had to go to make preparation for this somewhat hasty departure, but +first advised me to move my luggage from the 'One and All' (the +comfort of which fell indeed short of the promise of so fair a name) +to the 'Welcome Home,' a small but orderly house of entertainment in +the Barbican, where, he said, I should be within easy distance of +the <i>Golden Wave</i>. The walk to Old Town Street was not far in +itself, but a good step when traversed five or six times a day; and, +moreover, I was led to make the change on hearing that the landlord +of the 'Welcome Home' was also intending to sail as seaman in +this same ship. My new acquaintance led me to the house, an +ill-favoured-looking den, but clean inside, and after a short +consultation with John Railton, the landlord, arranged for my +entertainment until the <i>Golden Wave</i> should weigh anchor. +This done, and a friendly glass taken to seal the engagement, he +departed, congratulating himself warmly on his good fortune in +finding a fellow-traveller so much, as he protested, to his taste.</p> + +<p>"I must own I was not over-pleased with John Railton, who seemed a +sulky sort of man, and too much given to liquor. But I saw little of +him after he brought my box from the 'One and All.' His wife waited +upon me—a singularly sweet woman, though sorely vexed, as I could +perceive, with her husband's infirmity. She loved him nevertheless, +as a woman will sometimes love a brute, and was sorry to lose him. +Indeed, when I noticed that evening that her eyes were red with +weeping, and said a word about her husband's departure, she stared at +me for a moment in amazement, and could not guess how I came to hear +of it, 'for,' said she, 'the resolution had been so suddenly taken +that even she could scarce account for it.' She admitted, however, +that it was for the best, and added that 'Jack was a good seaman, and +she always expected that he would leave her some day.' Her chief +anxiety was for her little daughter, aged seven, whom it was hard to +have exposed to the rough language and manners of a public-house. +I comforted her as best I could, and doubt not she has found her +husband's absence a less misfortune than she anticipated.</p> + +<p>"The <i>Golden Wave</i> weighed anchor on the 6th of February, and reached +Bombay after a tedious voyage of 103 days, on the 21st of May, having +been detained by contrary winds in doubling the Cape. I saw little +of Simon Colliver before starting, though he came twice, as I heard, +to the 'Welcome Home' to inquire for me, and each time found me +absent. On board, however, being the only other passenger, I was +naturally thrown much into his society, and confess that I found him +a most diverting companion. Often of a clear moonlight night would +we pace the deck together, or watch in a darker sky the innumerable +stars, on which Colliver had an amazing amount of information. +Sometimes, too, he would sing—quaint songs which I had never heard +before, to airs which I suspect, without well knowing why, were of +his own composition. His voice was of large compass—a silvery tenor +of surpassing' purity and sweetness, inasmuch as I have seen the +sailors stand spellbound, and even with tears in their eyes, at some +sweet song of love and home. Often, again, the words would be weird +and mysterious, but the voice was always delicious whether he spoke +or sang. I asked him once why with such a gift he had not tried his +fortune on the stage. At which he laughed, and replied that he could +never be bound by rules of art, or forced to sing, whatever his +humour, to an audience for which he cared nothing. I do not know why +I dwell so long upon this extraordinary man. His path of life has +chanced to run side by side with my own for a short space, and the +two have now branched off, nor in all likelihood will ever meet +again. My life has been a quiet one, and has not lain much in the +way of extraordinary men, but I doubt if many such as Simon Colliver +exist. He is a perfect enigma to me. That such a man, with such +attainments (for besides his wonderful conversation and power of +singing, he has an amazing knowledge of foreign tongues), that such a +man, I say, should be a mere attorney's clerk is little short of +marvellous. But as regards his past he told me nothing, though an +apt and ready listener when I spoke of Lantrig and of Margery and +Jasper at home. But he showed no curiosity as to the purpose of my +voyage, and in fact seemed altogether careless as well of the fate as +of the opinions of his fellow-men. He has passed out of my life; but +when I shook hands with him at parting I left with regret the most +fascinating companion it has been ever my lot to meet.</p> + +<p>"Our voyage, as I have said, was without event, though full of +wonders to me who had seldom before sailed far out of sight of +Pedn-glas. But on these I need not here dwell. Only I cannot pass +without mention the exceeding marvels of this city of Bombay. As I +stood upon deck on the evening before last and watched the Bhor +Ghauts (as they are called) rise gradually on the dim horizon, whilst +the long ridge of the Malabar Hill with its clustered lights grew +swiftly dyed in delicate pink and gold, and as swiftly sank back into +night, I confess that my heart was strangely fluttered to think that +the wonders of this strange country lay at my feet, and I slept but +badly for the excitement. But when, yesterday morning, I disembarked +upon the Apollo Bund, I knew not at first whither to turn for very +dismay. It was like the play-acting we saw, my dear Margery, one +Christmas at Plymouth. Every sight in the strange crowd was +unfamiliar to my Cornish eyes, and I felt sorely tempted to laugh +when I thought what a figure some of them would cut in Polkimbra, and +not less when I reflected that after all I was just as much out of +place in Bombay, though of course less noticed because of the great +traffic. As I strolled through the Bazaar, Hindoos, Europeans, Jews, +Arabs, Malays, and Negro men passed me by. Mr. Elihu Sanderson has +kindly taught me to distinguish some of these nations, but at the +time I did not know one from another, fancying them indeed all +Indians, though at a loss to account for their diversity. Also the +gaudy houses of red, blue, and yellow, the number of beautiful trees +that grew in the very streets, and the swarms of birds that crowded +every roof-top and ventured down quite fearlessly among the +passers-by, all made me gasp with wonder. Nor was I less amazed to +watch the habits of this marvellous folk, many of them to me +shocking, and to see the cows that abound everywhere and do the work +of horses. But of all this I will tell if Heaven be pleased to grant +me a safe return to Lantrig. Let me now recount my business with Mr. +Elihu Sanderson.</p> + +<p>"I said farewell to the captain of the <i>Golden Wave</i> and my friend +Colliver upon the quay, meaning to ask Mr. Sanderson to recommend a +good lodging for the short time I intended to stay in Bombay. +Captain Carey had already directed me to the East India Company's +office, and hither I tried to make my way at once. Easy as it was, +however, I missed it, being lost in admiration of the crowd. When at +last I arrived at the doors I was surprised to see Colliver coming +out, until I remembered that his brother was in the Company's employ. +It seems, however, that he had been transferred to Trichinopoly some +months before, and my friend's labour was in vain. I am bound to say +that he took his disappointment with great good-humour, and made very +merry over our meeting again so soon, protesting that for the future +we had better hunt in couples among this outlandish folk; and so I +lost him again.</p> + +<p>"After some difficulty and delay I found myself at length in the +presence of this Mr. Elihu Sanderson, on whom I had speculated so +often. I was ushered by a clerk into his private office, and as he +rose to meet me, judged him directly to be the son of the Elihu +Sanderson mentioned in my father's Will—as indeed is the case. +A spare, dry, shrivelled man, with a mouth full of determination and +acuteness, and a habit of measuring his words as though they were for +sale, he is in everything but height the essence of every Scotchman I +remember to have seen.</p> + +<p>"'Good day,' said he, 'Mr.—I fancy I did not catch your name.'</p> + +<p>"'Trenoweth,' said I.</p> + +<p>"'Indeed! Trenoweth!' he repeated, and I fancy I saw a glimmer of +surprise in his eyes. 'Do I guess your business?'</p> + +<p>"'Maybe you do,' I replied, 'for I take it to be somewhat unusual.'</p> + +<p>"'Ah, yes; just so; somewhat unusual!'—and he chuckled drily— +'somewhat unusual! Very good indeed! I suppose—eh?—you have some +credentials—some proof that you really are called Trenoweth?'—Here +Mr. Sanderson looked at me sharply.</p> + +<p>"In reply I produced my father's Will and the little Bible from my +jersey's side. As I did so, I felt the Scotchman's eyes examining me +narrowly. I handed him the packet. The Will he read with great +attention, glanced at the Bible, pondered awhile, and then said—</p> + +<p>"'I suppose you guess that this was a piece of private business +between Amos Trenoweth, deceased, and my father, also deceased. +I tell ye frankly, Mr. Trenoweth—by the way, what is your Christian +name, eh? So you are the Ezekiel mentioned in the Will? Are you a +bold man, eh? Well, you look it, at any rate. As I was saying, I +tell ye frankly it is not the sort of business I would have +undertaken myself. But my father had his crotchets—which is odd, as +I'm supposed to resemble him—he had his crotchets, and among them +was an affection for your father. It may have been based on profit, +for your father, Mr. Trenoweth, as far as I have heard, was not +exactly a lovable man, if ye'll excuse me. If it was, I've never +seen those profits, and I've examined my father's papers pretty +thoroughly. But this is a family matter, and had better not be +discussed in office hours. Can you dine with me this evening?'</p> + +<p>"I replied that I should be greatly obliged; but, in the first place, +as a stranger, would count it a favour to be told of some decent +lodging for such time as I should be detained in Bombay.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sanderson pondered again, tapped the floor with his foot, pulled +his short crop of sandy whiskers, and said—</p> + +<p>"'Our business may detain us, for aught I know, long into the night, +Mr. Trenoweth. Ye would be doing me a favour if ye stayed with me +for a day or two. I am a bachelor, and live as one. So much the +better, eh? If you will get your boxes sent up to Craigie Cottage, +Malabar Hill—any one will tell ye where Elihu Sanderson lives—I +will try to make you comfortable. You are wondering at the name +'Craigie Cottage'—another crotchet of my father's. He was a +Scotchman, I'd have ye know; and so am I, for that matter, though I +never saw Scotch soil, being that prodigious phenomenon, a British +child successfully reared in India. But I hope to set foot there +some day, please God! Save us! how I am talking, and in office +hours, too! Good-bye, Mr. Trenoweth, and'—once more his eyes +twinkled as I thanked him and made for the door—'I would to Heaven +ye were a Scotchman!'</p> + +<p>"Although verily broiled with the heat, I spent the rest of the day +in sauntering about the city and drinking in its marvels until the +time when I was due to present myself at Craigie Cottage. Following +the men who carried my box, I discovered it without difficulty, +though very unlike any cottage that came within my recollection. +Indeed, it is a large villa, most richly furnished, and crowded with +such numbers of black servants, that it must go hard with them to +find enough to do. That, however, is none of my business, and Mr. +Sanderson does not seem the man to spend his money wastefully; so I +suppose wages to be very low here.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sanderson received me hospitably, and entertained me to a most +agreeable meal, though the dishes were somewhat hotly seasoned, and +the number of servants again gave me some uneasiness. But when, +after dinner, we sat and smoked out on the balcony and watched the +still gardens, the glimmering houses and, above all, the noble bay +sleeping beneath the gentle shadow of the night, I confess to a +feeling that, after all, man is at home wherever Nature smiles so +kindly. The hush of the hour was upon me, and made me disinclined to +speak lest its spell should be broken—disinclined to do anything but +watch the smoke-wreaths as they floated out upon the tranquil air."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sanderson broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"'You have not been long in coming.'</p> + +<p>"'Did you not expect me so soon?'</p> + +<p>"'Why, you see, I had not read your father's Will.'</p> + +<p>"I explained to him as briefly as I could the reasons which drove me +to leave Lantrig. He listened in silence, and then said, after a +pause—</p> + +<p>"'You have not, then, undertaken this lightly?'</p> + +<p>"'As Heaven is my witness, no, whether there be anything in this +business or not.'</p> + +<p>"'I think,' said he, slowly, 'there is something in it. My father +had his crotchets, it is true; but he was no fool. He never opened +his lips to me on the matter, but left me to hear the first of it in +his last Will and Testament. Oddly enough, our fathers seem both to +have found religion in their old age. Mine took his comfort in the +Presbyterian shape. But it is all the same. There was some reason +for your father to repent, if rumours were true; but why mine, a +respectable servant of the East India Company, should want +consolation, is not so clear. Maybe 'twas only another form of +egotism. Religion, even, is spelt with an I, ye'll observe.</p> + +<p>"'An odd couple,' he continued, musing, 'to be mixed up together! +But we'll let them rest in peace. I'd better let you have what was +entrusted to me, and then, mayhap, ye'll be better able to form an +opinion.'</p> + +<p>"With this he rose and stepped back into the lighted room, whilst I +followed. Drawing a bunch of keys from his pocket, he opened a heavy +chest of some dark wood, intricately carved, which stood in one +corner, drew out one by one a whole pile of tin boxes, bundles of +papers and heavy books, until, almost at the very bottom of the +chest, he seemed to find the box he wanted; then, carefully replacing +the rest, closed and fastened the chest, and, after some search among +his keys, opened the tin box and handed me two envelopes, one much +larger than the other, but both bulky.</p> + +<p>"And here, my dear Margery, with my hand upon the secret which had +cost us so much anxious thought and such a grievous parting, I could +not help breathing to myself a prayer that Heaven had seen fit to +grant me at last some means of comforting my wife and little one and +restoring our fallen house; nor do I doubt, dear wife, you were at +that moment praying on your knees for me. I did not speak aloud, but +Mr. Sanderson must have divined my thoughts, for I fancied I heard +him utter 'Amen' beneath his breath, and when I looked up he seemed +prodigiously red and ashamed of himself.</p> + +<p>"The small envelope was without address, and contained 50 pounds in +Bank of England notes. These were enclosed without letter or hint as +to their purpose, and sealed with a plain black seal.</p> + +<p>"The larger envelope was addressed in my father's handwriting—"</p> + +<p>'TO THE SON OF MY HOUSE WHO, HAVING COUNTED ALL THE PERILS, IS +RESOLUTE.</p> + +<p>'<i>Mem.—To be burned in one hundred years from this date, May 4th, in +the year of our Lord MDCCCV.</i>'</p> + +<p>"It likewise was sealed with a plain black seal, and contained the +manuscript which I herewith pin to this leaf of my Journal."</p> + +<p>[Here Uncle Loveday, who had hitherto read without comment, save an +occasional interjection, turned the page and revealed, in faded ink +on a large sheet of parchment, the veritable writing of my +grandfather, Amos Trenoweth. We both unconsciously leaned further +forward over the relic, and my uncle, still without comment, +proceeded to read aloud as follows:—]</p> + +<blockquote> +<p><i> "From Amos Trenoweth, of Lantrig, in the Parish of Polkimbra and + County of Cornwall; to such descendant of mine as may inherit my + wealth.</i></p> + +<p><i> "Be it known to you, my son, that though in this parchment + mention is made of great and surpassing Wealth, seemingly but to + be won for the asking, yet beyond doubt the dangers which beset + him who would lay his hand upon this accursed store are in + nature so deadly, that almost am I resolved to fling the Secret + from me, and so go to my Grave a Beggar. For that I not only + believe, but am well assured, that not with out much Spilling + of Blood and Loss of Human Life shall they be enjoyed, I myself + having looked in the Face of Death thrice before ever I might + set Hand upon them, escaping each time by a Miracle and by + forfeit of my Soul's Peace. Yet, considering that the Anger of + Heaven is quick and not revengeful unduly, I have determined not + to do so wholly, but in part, abandoning myself the Treasure + unrighteously won, if perchance the Curse may so be appeased, + but committing it to the enterprise of another, who may escape, + and so raise a falling House.</i></p> + +<p><i> "You then, my Son who may read this Message, I entreat to + consider well the Perils of your Course, though to you unknown. + But to me they are known well, who have lived a Sinful Life for + the sake of this gain, and now find it but as the fruit of + Gomorrah to my lips. For the rest, my Secret is with God, from + whom I humbly hope to obtain Pardon, but not yet. And even as + the Building of the Temple was withheld from David, as being a + Shedder of Blood, but not from Solomon his son, so may you lay + your Hand to much Treasure in Gold, Silver, and Precious Stones, + but chiefly the GREAT RUBY OF CEYLON, whose beauty excels all + the jewels of the Earth, I myself having looked upon it, and + knowing it to be, as an Ancient Writer saith, 'a Spectacle + Glorious and without Compare.'</i></p> + +<p><i> "Of this Ruby the Traveller Marco Polo speaks, saying, 'The King + of Seilan hath a Ruby the Greatest and most Beautiful that ever + was or can be in the World. In length it is a palm, and in + thickness the thickness of a man's arm. In Splendour it + exceedeth the things of Earth, and gloweth like unto Fire. + Money cannot purchase it.' Likewise Maundevile tells of it, and + how the Great Khan would have it, but was refused; and so + Odoric, the two giving various Sizes, and both placing it + falsely in the Island of Nacumera or Nicoveran. But this I + know, that in the Island of Ceylon it was found, being lost for + many Centuries, and though less in size than these Writers + would have it, yet far exceeding all imagination for Beauty and + colour.</i></p> + +<p><i> "Now this Ruby, together with much Treasure beside, you may gain + with the Grace of Heaven and by following my plain words. + You will go from this place unto the Island of Ceylon, and there + proceed to Samanala or Adam's Peak, the same being the most + notable mountain of the Island. From the Resting House at the + foot of the Peak you will then ascend, following the track of + the Pilgrims, until you have passed the First Set of Chains. + Between these and the Second there lies a stretch of Forest, in + which, still following the track, you will come to a Tree, the + trunk of which branches into seven parts and again unites. + This Tree is noticeable and cannot be missed. From its base you + must proceed at a right angle to the left-hand edge of the track + for thirty-two paces, and you will come to a Stone shaped like a + Man's Head, of great size, but easily moved. Beneath this Stone + lies the Secret of the Great Ruby; and yet not all, for the rest + is graven on the Key, of which mention shall already have been + made to you.</i></p> + +<p><i> "These precautions I have taken that none may surprise this + Secret but its right possessor; and also that none may without + due reflection undertake this task, inasmuch as it is + prophesied that 'Even as the Heart of the Ruby is Blood and its + Eyes a Flaming Fire, so shall it be for them that would possess + it: Fire shall be their portion and Blood their inheritance for + ever.'</i></p> + +<p><i> "This prophecy I had from an aged priest, whose bones lie + beneath the Stone, and upon whose Sacred clasp is the Secret + written. This and all else may God pardon. Amen.</i></p> + +<p><i> "A. T."</i></p> + +<p><i> "He visiteth the iniquity of the Fathers upon the Children unto + the third and fourth generation."</i></p> +</blockquote> + + +<p>[To this extraordinary document was appended a note in another +handwriting.]</p> + +<blockquote> +<p><i> "There is little doubt that the Ruby now in the possession of + Mr. Amos Trenoweth is the veritable Great Ruby of which the + traveller Marco Polo speaks. But, however this may be, I know + from the testimony of my own eyes that the stone is of + inestimable worth, being of the rarest colour, and in size + greatly beyond any Ruby that ever I saw. The stone is spoken + of, in addition to such writers as Mr. Trenoweth quotes, by + Friar Jordanus (in the fourteenth century), who mentions it as + 'so large that it cannot be grasped in the closed hand'; and + Ibn Batuta reckons it as great as the palm of a man's hand. + Cosmos, as far back as 550, had heard tell of it from Sopater, + and its fame extended to the sixteenth century, wherein Corsali + wrote of 'two rubies so lustrous and shining that they seem a + flame of fire.' Also Hayton, in the thirteenth century, + mentions it, telling much the same story as Sir John Maundevile, + to the effect that it was the especial symbol of sovereignty, + and when held in the hand of the newly-chosen king, enforced the + recognition of his majesty. But, whereas Hayton simply calls + it the greatest and finest Ruby in existence, Maundevile puts it + at afoot in length and five fingers in girth. Also—for I have + made much inquiry concerning this stone—it was well known to + the Chinese from the days of Hwen T'sang downward.</i></p> + +<p><i> "Mr. Trenoweth has wisely forborne for safety from showing it to + any of the jewellers here; but on the one occasion when I saw + the gem I measured it, and found it to be, roughly, some three + and a half inches square and two inches in depth; of its weight + I cannot speak. But that it truly is the Great Ruby of Ceylon, + the account of the Buddhist priest from, whom Mr. Trenoweth + got the stone puts out of all doubt."</i></p> + +<p><i> "E. S."</i></p> +</blockquote> + +<p>"As I finished my reading, I looked up and saw Mr. Sanderson watching +me across the table. 'Well?' said he.</p> + +<p>"I pushed the parchment across to him, and filled a pipe. He read +the whole through very slowly, and without the movement of a muscle; +then handed it back, but said never a word.</p> + +<p>"'Well,' I asked, after a pause; 'what do you think of it?'</p> + +<p>"'Why, in the first place, that my father was a marvellously honest +man, and yours, Mr. Trenoweth, a very indiscreet one. And secondly, +that ye're just as indiscreet as he, and it will be lucky for ye if +I'm as honest as my father.'</p> + +<p>"I laughed.</p> + +<p>"'Aye, ye may laugh; but mark my words, Mr. Trenoweth. Ye've a +trustful way with ye that takes my liking; but it would surprise me +very much, sir, did ye ever lay hands on that Ruby.'"</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "9"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3> + +<h3> +CONTAINS THE SECOND PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL:<br> SETTING FORTH HIS +ADVENTURES IN THE ISLAND OF CEYLON.</h3><br> + +<p>"Sept. 29th, 1848.—It is a strange thing that on the very next day +after reading my father's message I should have been struck down and +reduced to my present condition. But so it is, and now, four months +after my first entry in this Journal, I am barely able to use the pen +to add to my account. As far as I remember—for my head wanders +sadly at times—it happened thus: On the 23rd of May last, after +spending the greater part of the day in writing my Journal, and also +my first letter to my dear wife, I walked down in the cool of the +evening to the city, intending to post the latter; which I did, and +was returning to Mr. Sanderson's house, when I stopped to watch the +sun setting in this glorious Bay of Bengal. I was leaning over a low +wall, looking out on the open sea with its palm-fringed shores, when +suddenly the sun shot out a jagged flame; the sky heaved and turned +to blood—and I knew no more. I had been murderously struck from +behind. That I was found, lying to all appearance dead, with a +hideous zig-zag wound upon the scalp; that my pockets had been to all +appearance rifled (whether by the assassin or the natives that found +me is uncertain); that I was finally claimed and carried home by Mr. +Sanderson, who, growing uneasy at my absence, had set out to look for +me; that for more than a month, and then again for almost two months, +my life hung in the balance; and that I owe my recovery to Mr. +Sanderson's unceasing kindness—all this I have learnt but lately. +I can write no more at present.</p> + +<p>"Oct. 3rd.—I am slightly better. My mental powers are slowly coming +back after the fever that followed the wound. I pass my days mostly +in speculating on the reason of this murderous attack, but am still +unable to account for it. It cannot have been for plunder, for I do +not look like a rich man. Mr. Sanderson has his theory, but I cannot +agree with him, for nobody but ourselves knew of my father's +manuscript. At any rate, it is fortunate that I left it in my chest, +together with this Journal, before I went down to Bombay. Margery +must have had my letter by this time; Mr. Sanderson very wisely +decided to wait the result of my illness before troubling her. As it +is she need know nothing about it until we meet.</p> + +<p>"Oct. 14th.—Mr. Sanderson is everything that is good; indeed, had I +been a brother he could not have shown me more solicitude. But he is +obstinate in connecting my attack with the Great Ruby of Ceylon; it +is certainly a curious coincidence that this dark chapter of my life +should immediately follow my father's warning, but that is all one +can say. I shall give up trying to convince him.</p> + +<p>"Oct. 31st.—I am now considerably better. My strength is slowly +returning, and with it, I am glad to say, my memory. At first it +seemed as though I could remember nothing of my past life, but now my +recollection is good on every point up to the moment of my attack. +Since then, for at least the space of three months, I can recall +nothing. I am able to creep about a little, and Mr. Sanderson has +taken me for one or two excursions. Curiously enough, I thought I +saw John Railton yesterday upon the Apollo Bund. I was probably +mistaken, but at the time it caused me no surprise that he should +still be here, since I forgot the interval of three months in my +memory. If it were really Railton, he has, I suppose, found +employment of some kind in Bombay; but it seems a cruel shame for him +to desert his poor wife at home. I, alas! am doing little better, +but God knows I am anxious to be gone; however, Mr. Sanderson will +not hear a word on the subject at present. He has promised to find a +ship for me as soon as he thinks I am able to continue my travels.</p> + +<p>"Nov. 4th.—I was not mistaken. It was John Railton that I saw on +the Apollo Bund. I met him hovering about the same spot to-day, and +spoke to him; but apparently he did not hear me. I intended to ask +him some news of my friend Colliver, but I daresay he knows as little +of his doings as I do. Mr. Sanderson says that in a week's time I +shall be recovered sufficiently to start. I hope so, indeed, for +this delay is chafing me sorely.</p> + +<p>"Nov. 21st.—Mr. Sanderson has found a ship for me at last. I am to +sail in five days for Colombo in the schooner <i>Campaspe</i>, whose +captain is a friend—a business friend, that is—of my host. I shall +be the only passenger, and Mr. Sanderson has given Captain Dodge full +instructions to take care of me. But I am feeling strong enough now, +and fit for anything.</p> + +<p>"Nov. 23rd.—I have been down to look at the vessel, and find that a +most comfortable little cabin has been set apart for me. But the +strangest thing is that I met Colliver also inspecting the ship. +He was most surprised at seeing me, and evidently imagined me home in +England by this time. I told him of my meeting with John Railton, +and he replied—</p> + +<p>"'Oh, yes; I have taken him into my service. We are going together +to Ceylon, as I have travelled about India enough for the present. +I went to visit my brother at Trichinopoly, and have only just +returned to Bombay. Unfortunately the captain of the <i>Campaspe</i> +declares he is unable to take me, so I shall have to wait.'</p> + +<p>"I explained the reasons of the captain's reluctance, and offered him +a share of my cabin if Captain Dodge would consent to be burdened +with Railton's company.</p> + +<p>"'Oh, for that matter,' replied he, 'Railton can follow; but he's a +handy fellow, and I daresay would make himself useful without +payment.'</p> + +<p>"We consulted Captain Dodge, who admitted himself ready to take +another passenger, and even to accommodate Railton, if that were my +wish. Only, he explained, Mr. Sanderson had especially told him that +I should wish to be alone, being an invalid. So the bargain was +struck.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Sanderson did not seem altogether pleased when I informed him +that I intended to take a companion. He asked many questions about +Colliver, and was especially anxious to know if I had confided +anything of my plans to him. So far was this from being the case +that Colliver, as I informed my host, had never betrayed the least +interest in my movements. At this Mr. Sanderson merely grunted, and +asked me when I intended to learn prudence, adding that one crack in +the head was enough for most men, but he supposed I wanted more. +I admit that, pleasant companion as Colliver is, I should prefer to +be entirely alone upon this adventure. But I could not deny the +invitation without appearing unnecessarily rude, and I owe him much +gratitude for having made the outward voyage so pleasant. Besides, +we shall part at Colombo.</p> + +<p>"Nov. 25th.—I make this entry (my last upon Indian soil) just before +retiring to rest. To-morrow I sail for Colombo in the <i>Campaspe</i>. +But I cannot leave Bombay without dwelling once more on Mr. +Sanderson's great kindness. To-night, as we sat together for the +last time upon the balcony of Craigie Cottage, I declare that my +heart was too full for words. My host apparently was revolving other +thoughts, for when he spoke it was to say—</p> + +<p>"'Visited his brother in Trichinopoly, eh? Only just returned, too— +h'm! What I want to know is, why the devil he returned at all? +There are plenty of vessels at Madras.'</p> + +<p>"'But Colliver is not the man who cares to follow the shortest +distance between two points,' I answered. 'Why should he not return +to Bombay?'</p> + +<p>"'I'll beg ye to observe,' said Mr. Sanderson, 'that the question is +not 'why shouldn't he?' but 'why should he?''</p> + +<p>"'At any rate,' said I, 'I'll be on my guard.'</p> + +<p>"This suspicion on my behalf has become quite a mania with my host. +I thought it best to let him grumble his fill, and then endeavoured +to thank him for his great kindness.</p> + +<p>"'Don't say another word,' he interrupted. 'I owe ye some reparation +for being mixed up in this at all. It's a serious matter, mark ye, +for a respectable clerk like myself to be aiding and abetting in this +mad chase; and, to tell the truth, Trenoweth, I took a fancy to ye +when first I set eyes on your face, and—Don't say another word, I'll +ask ye.'</p> + +<p>"My friend's eyes were full of tears. I arose, shook him silently by +the hand, and went to my room.</p> + +<p>"Nov. 26th.—I am off. I write this in my cabin, alone—Colliver +having had another assigned to him by Mr. Sanderson's express wish. +He saw Colliver for the first time to-day on the quay, and drew me +aside at the last moment to warn me against 'that fellow with the +devilish eyes.' As I stood on deck and watched his stiff little +figure waving me farewell until it melted into the crowd, and Bombay +sank behind me as the city of a dream, I wondered with sadness on the +little chance we had of ever meeting on this earth again. Colliver's +voice at my elbow aroused me.</p> + +<p>"'Odd man, that friend of yours—made up of emotion, and afraid of +his life to show it. Has he done you a favour?'</p> + +<p>"'He has,' I replied, 'as great a favour as one man can do for +another.'</p> + +<p>"'Ah,' said he, 'I thought as much. That's why he is so full of +gratitude.'</p> + +<p>"Dec. 6th.—Never shall I forget the dawn out of which Ceylon, the +land of my promise, arose into view. I was early on deck to catch +the first sight of land. Very slowly, as I stood gazing into the +east, the pitch-black darkness turned to a pale grey, and discovered +a long, narrow streak, shaped like the shields one sees in Bible +prints, and rising to a point in the centre. Then, as it seemed to +me, in a moment, the sun was up and as if by magic the shield had +changed into a coast fringed with palms and swelling upwards in green +and gradual slopes to a chain of mighty hills. Around these some +light, fleecy clouds had gathered, but sea and coast were radiant +with summer. So clear was the air that I could distinguish the red +sand of the beaches and the white trunks of the palms that crowded to +the shore; and then before us arose Colombo, its white houses +gleaming out one by one.</p> + +<p>"The sun was high by the time our pilot came on board, and as we +entered the harbour the town lay deep in the stillness of the +afternoon. We had cast anchor, and I was reflecting on my next +course of action when I heard my name called from under the ship's +side. Looking down, I spied a tall, grave gentleman seated in a +boat. I replied as well as I could for the noise, and presently the +stranger clambered up on deck and announced himself as Mr. +Eversleigh, to whom Mr. Sanderson had recommended me. I had no +notion until this moment—and I state it in proof of Mr. Sanderson's +kindness—that any arrangement had been made for entertaining me at +Colombo. It is true that Mr. Sanderson had told me, on the night +when our acquaintance began, to send this gentleman's address to +Margery, that her letter might safely reach me; but beyond this I +knew nothing. Mr. Eversleigh shook me by the hand, and, to my +unspeakable joy, handed me my dear wife's letter.</p> + +<p>"I say to my unspeakable joy, for no words can tell, dear wife, with +what feelings I read your letter as the little boat carried me up to +the quay. How often during the idle days of my recovery have I lain +wondering how you and Jasper were passing this weary time, and cried +out on the weakness that kept me so long dallying. Patience, dear +heart, it is but a little time now.</p> + +<p>"I have forgotten to speak of Colliver. He has been as delightful +and indifferent as ever throughout the voyage. Certainly I can find +no reason for crediting Mr. Sanderson's suspicions. In the hurry of +landing I missed him, not even having opportunity to ask about his +plans. Doubtless I shall see him in a day or two.</p> + +<p>"Dec. 10th.—What an entrancing country is this Ceylon! The monsoon +is upon us, and hinders my journey: indeed, Mr. Eversleigh advises me +not to start for some weeks. He promises to accompany me to the Peak +if I can wait, but the suspense is hard to bear. Meantime I am +drinking in the marvels of Colombo. The quaint names over the shops, +the bright dresses of white and red, the priests with their robes of +flaming yellow—all these are diverting enough, but words cannot tell +of the beauty of the country here. The roads are all of some strange +red soil, and run for miles beneath the most beautiful trees +imaginable—bamboos, palms, and others unknown to me, but covered +with crimson and yellow blossom. Then the long stretches of rice +fields, and again more avenues of palms, with here and there a lovely +pool by the wayside—all this I cannot here describe. But most +wonderful of all is the monsoon which rages over the country, +wrapping the earth sometimes in sheets of lightning which turn sea, +sky and earth to one vivid world of flame. The wind is dry and +parching, so that all windows are kept carefully closed at night; +but, indeed, the mosquitoes are sufficient excuse for that. I have +seen nothing of Colliver and Railton.</p> + +<p>"Dec. 31st.—New Year's Eve, and, as I hope, the dawn of brighter +days for us, dear wife. Mr. Eversleigh has to-night, been describing +Adam's Peak to me. Truly this is a most marvellous mountain, and its +effect upon me I find hard to put into words. To-day I watched it +standing solitary and royal from the low hills that surround it. +At its feet waved a very sea of green forest, around its summit were +gathered black clouds charged with lightning. Mr. Eversleigh tells +me of the worship here paid to it, and the thousands of pilgrims that +wear its crags with their patient feet. Can I hope to succeed when +so many with prayers so much more holy have failed? Even as I write, +its unmoved face is mocking the fire of heaven. I dream of the +mountain; night and day it has come to fill my life with dark terror. +I am not by nature timid or despondent, but it is hard to have to +wait here day after day and watch this goal of my hopes—so near, yet +seemingly so forbidding of access.</p> + +<p>"On looking back I find I have said nothing about the house where I +am now staying. It lies in the Kolpetty suburb, in the midst of most +lovely gardens, and is called Blue Bungalow, from the colour in which +it is painted. I have made many excursions with Mr. Eversleigh on +the lagoon; but for me the only object in this land of beauty is the +great Peak. I cannot endure this idleness much longer. Colliver +seems to have vanished: at least, I have not seen him.</p> + +<p>"Jan. 25th, 1849.—I have been in no mood lately to make any fresh +entry in my Journal. But to-morrow I start for Adam's Peak. At the +last moment my host finds himself unable to go with me, much as he +protests he desires it; but two of his servants will act as my +guides. It is about sixty miles from Colombo to the foot of the +Peak, so that in four days from this time I hope to lay my hand upon +the secret. The two natives (their real names I do not know, but Mr. +Eversleigh has christened them Peter and Paul, which I shall +doubtless find more easy of mastery than their true outlandish +titles) are, as I am assured, trusty, and have visited the mountain +before. We take little baggage beyond the necessary food and one of +my host's guns. I cannot tell how impatient I am feeling.</p> + +<p>"Feb. 1st.—My journey to the Peak is over. Whether from fatigue or +excitement I am feeling strangely light-headed to-day; but let me +attempt to describe as briefly as I can my adventure. We set out +from Colombo in the early morning of Jan. 26th. For about two-thirds +of our journey the road lies along the coast, stretching through +swampy rice-fields and interminable cocoanut avenues until Ratnapoora +is reached. So far the scenery does not greatly differ from that of +Colombo. But it was after we left Ratnapoora that I first realised +the true wonders of this land. Our road rose almost continuously by +narrow tracks, which in some places, owing to the late heavy rains, +were almost impassable; but Peter and Paul worked hard, and so +reduced the delay. We had not left Ratnapoora far behind when we +plunged into a tangled forest, so dense as almost to blot out the +light of day. On either hand deep ravines plunged precipitately +down, or giant trees enclosed us in black shadow. Where the sun's +rays penetrated, myriads of brilliant insects flashed like jewels; +yellow butterflies, beetles with wings of ruby-red or gold, and +dragonflies that picked out the undergrowth with fire. In the shadow +overhead flew and chattered crowds of green paroquets and glossy +crows, while here and there we could see a Bird of Paradise drooping +its smart tail-feathers amid the foliage. A little further, and deep +in the forest the ear caught the busy tap-tap of the woodpecker, the +snap of the toucan's beak, or far away the deep trumpeting of the +elephant. Once we startled a leopard that gazed a moment at us with +flaming eyes, and then was gone with a wild bound into the thicket. +From tree to tree trailed hosts of gorgeous creepers, blossoming in +orange, white and crimson, or wreathing round some hapless monarch of +the forest and strangling it with their rank growth. Still we +climbed.</p> + +<p>"The bridle-track now skirted a torrent, now wound dizzily round +the edge of a stupendous cliff, and again plunged into obscurity. +Here and there the ruins of some ancient and abandoned shrine +confronted us, its graceful columns entwined and matted with +vegetation; or, again, where the forest broke off and allowed our +eyes to sweep over the far prospect, the guides would point to the +place where stood, hardly to be descried, the relics of some dead +city, desolate and shrined in desolation. Even I, who knew nothing +of the past glories of Ceylon, could not help being possessed with +melancholy thoughts as I passed now a mass of deserted masonry, now a +broken column, the sole witnesses of generations gone for ever. +Some were very richly carved, but Nature's tracery was rapidly +blotting out the handiwork of man, the twining convolvulus usurping +the glories of the patient chisel. Still up we climbed, where hosts +of chattering monkeys swung from branch to branch, or poised +screaming overhead, or a frightened serpent rose with hissing mouth, +and then glided in a flash back through the undergrowth. One, that +seemed to me of a pure silver-white, started almost from under my +feet, and darted away before I could recover myself. We hardly +spoke; the vastness of Nature hushed our tongues. It seemed +presumption to raise my gun against any of the inhabitants of this +spot where man seemed so mean, so strangely out of place. Once I +paused to cut back with my knife the creepers that hid in +inextricable tangle a solitary and exquisitely carved archway. +But the archway led nowhere, its god and temple alike had perished, +and already the plants have begun their tireless work again.</p> + +<p>"Between the stretches of wilderness our road often led us across +rushing streams, difficult to ford at this season, or up rocky +ravines, that shut in with their towering walls all but a patch of +blue overhead. Emerging from these we would find ourselves on naked +ledges where the sun's rays beat until the air seemed that of an +oven. At such spots the plain below spread itself out as a crumpled +chart, whilst always above us, domed in the blue of a sapphire-stone, +towered the goal of our hopes, serene and relentless. But such +places were not many. More often a threatening cliff faced us, or an +endless slope closed in the view, only to give way to another and yet +another as we climbed their weary length.</p> + +<p>"Yet our speed was not trifling. We had passed a train of +white-clothed pilgrims in the morning soon after leaving Ratnapoora. +Since then we had seen no man except one poor old priest at the +ruined resting-house where we ate our mid-day meal. The shadow of +the forest allowed us to travel through the heat of the day, and the +thirst of discovery would have hurried me on even had the guides +protested. But they were both sturdy, well-built men, and suffered +from the heat far less than I did. So we hardly paused until, in the +first swift gloom of sunset, we emerged on the grassy lawn of +Diabetne, beneath the very face of the cone.</p> + +<p>"We had to rest for the night in the ruined <i>Ambulam</i>, as it is +called; and here, thoroughly tired but sleepless, I lay for some +hours and watched the innumerable stars creep out and crown that +sublime head which rose at first into a fathomless blue that was +almost black, and then as the moon swept up, flashed into unutterable +radiance. Nothing, I am told, can compare with the moonlight of +Ceylon, and I can well believe it. That night I read clearly once +again by the light of its rays my father's manuscript, that no point +in it should escape my memory; then sank down upon my rugs and slept +an uneasy sleep.</p> + +<p>"In an hour or two, as it seemed, I was awakened by Peter, who shook +me and proclaimed it time to be stirring if we meant to see the +sunrise from the summit. The moon was still resplendent as we +started across the three miles or 'league of heaven' that still lay +between us and the actual cone. This league traversed, we plunged +down a gully and crossed a stream whose waters danced in the silver +moonlight until the eyes were dazzled, then swept in a pearly shower +down numberless ledges of rock. After this the climb began in good +earnest. After a stretch of black forest, we issued on a narrow +track that grew steeper at every step. The moon presently ceased to +help us here, so that my guides lit torches, which flared and cast +long shadows on the rocky wall. By degrees the track became a mere +watercourse, up which we could only scramble one by one. So narrow +was it that two men could scarcely pass, yet so richly clothed in +vegetation that our torches scorched the overhanging ferns. +Peter led the way, and I followed close at his heels, for fear of +loose stones; but every now and then a crash and a startled cry from +Paul behind us told us that we had sent a boulder flying down into +the depths. Beyond this and the noise of our footsteps there was no +sound. We went but slowly, for the labour of the day before had +nearly exhausted us, but at length we scrambled out into the +moonlight again upon a rocky ledge half-way up the mountainside.</p> + +<p>"Here a strong breeze was blowing, that made our heated bodies +shiver until we were fain to go on. Casting one look into the gulf +below, deepened without limit in the moonlight, we lit fresh torches +and again took to the path. Before we had scrambled, now we +climbed. We had left vegetation behind us, and were face to face +with the naked rock that forms the actual Peak. At the foot of this +Peter called a halt, and pointed out the first set of chains. +Without these, in my weak state I could never have attempted the +ascent. Even as it was, my eye was dazed and my head swam and reeled +as I hung like a fly upon the dizzy side. But clutching with +desperation the chains riveted in the living rock, I hauled myself up +after Peter, and sank down thoroughly worn out upon the brink.</p> + +<p>"It now wanted but little before daybreak would be upon us. As I +gathered myself up for a last effort, I remembered that amid the +growth into which we were now to plunge, stood the tree of seven +trunks which was to be my mark. But my chance was small of noting it +by the light of these flaring torches that distorted every object, +and wreathed each tree into a thousand fantastic shapes. Plainly I +must stake my hopes on the descent next day; at any rate, I would +scale the summit before I began my search.</p> + +<p>"We had plunged into the thicket of rhododendrons, whose crimson +flowers showed oddly against the torches' gleam, and I was busy with +these thoughts, when suddenly my ankle gave way, and I fell heavily +forward. My two guides were beside me in an instant, and had me on +my feet again.</p> + +<p>"'All's good,' said Peter, 'but lucky it not happen otherwhere. +Only take care for last chain. But what bad with him?'</p> + +<p>"He might well ask; for there, full in front of my eyes that strained +and doubted, glimmered a huge trunk cleft into seven—yes, seven— +branches that met again and disappeared in a mass of black foliage. +It was my father's tree.</p> + +<p>"So far then the parchment had not lied. Here was the tree, +'noticeable and not to be missed,' and barely thirty-two paces from +the spot where I was standing lay the key to the treasure which I had +travelled this weary distance to seek. But the time for search had +not yet come. By the clear light of day and alone I must explore the +secret. It would keep for a few hours longer.</p> + +<p>"Dismissing my pre-occupied manner which had caused no small +astonishment to Peter and Paul, I fixed the position of the tree as +firmly as I could in my mind, and gave the word to advance.</p> + +<p>"We then continued in the same order as before, whilst, to make +matters sure, I counted our steps. I had reached six hundred and +twenty-though when I considered the darkness and the rough path I +reflected that this was but little help—when we arrived at the +second set of chains. My foot was already beginning to give me pain, +but under any circumstances this would have been by far the worst of +the ascent. All around us stretched darkness void and horrible, +leading, for all that we could see, down through veils of curling +mist into illimitable depths. In front the rock was almost +perpendicular. The fascination of gazing down was wellnigh +resistless, but Peter ahead continually cried 'Hurry!' and the voice +of Paul behind repeated 'Hurry!' so that panting, gasping, and fit to +faint, with fingers clinging to the chain until the skin was +blistered, with every nerve throbbing and every muscle strained to +its utmost tension, I clambered, clambered, until with one supreme +effort I swung myself up to the brink, staggered rather than ran up +the last few feet of rock, and as my guides bent and with +outstretched palms raised the cry '<i>Saadoo! Saadoo!</i>' I fell +exhausted before the very steps of Buddha's shrine.</p> + +<p>"When I recovered, I saw just above me the open shrine perched on a +tiny terrace and surrounded by low walls of stone; a yard or two from +me the tiny hut in which its guardians live; and all around the +expanse of sky. Dawn was stealing on; already its pale light was +creeping up the east, and a bar or two of vivid fire proclaimed the +coming of the sun. The priests were astir to receive the early +pilgrims, and as Paul led me to the edge of the parapet I could see +far away below the torches of the new-comers dotted in thin lines of +fire down the mountain-side. Some pilgrims had arrived before us, +and stood shivering in their thin white garments about the summit.</p> + +<p>"Presently the distant sound of measured chanting came floating up on +the tranquil air, sank and died away, and rose again more loudly. +Paler and paler grew the heavens, nearer and nearer swept the +chanting; and now the first pilgrim swung himself up into our view, +quenched his torch and bowed in homage. Others following did the +same, all adoring, until the terrace was crowded with worshippers +gazing eager and breathless into the far east, where brighter and +brighter the crimson bars of morning were widening.</p> + +<p>"Then with a leap flashed up the sun, the dazzling centre of a flood +of golden light. Godlike and resplendent he rode up on wreaths of +twirling-mist, and with one stroke sent the shadows quivering back to +the very corners of heaven. As the blazing orb topped the horizon, +every head bent in worship, every hand arose in welcome, every voice +broke out in trembling adoration, '<i>Saadoo! Saadoo!</i>' Even I, the +only European there, could not forbear from bowing my head and +lifting up my hands, so carried away was I with the aching fervour of +this crowd. There they stood and bent until the whole fiery ball was +clear, then turning, paced to the sound of chanting up the rough +steps and laid their offerings on the shrine. Thrice at each new +offering rang out a clattering gong, and the worshipper stepped +reverently back to make way for another; while all the time the +newly-risen sun blazed aslant on their robes of dazzling whiteness.</p> + +<p>"As I stood watching this strange scene, Peter plucked me by the +sleeve and pointed westward. I looked, and all the wonders I had yet +viewed became as nothing. For there, disregarded by the crowd, but +plain and manifest, rose another Peak, graven in shadow upon the +western sky. Bold and confronting, it soared into heaven and, whilst +I gazed in silent awe, came striding nearer through the void air, +until it seemed to sweep down upon me—and was gone! For many a day +had the shadow of this mighty cone lain upon my soul; here, on the +very summit, that shadow took visible form and shape, then paled into +the clear blue. Has its invisible horror left me now at last? +I doubt it.</p> + +<p>"But by this time the sun was high, and the last pilgrim with a +lingering cry of '<i>Saadoo!</i>' was leaving the summit. So, although +my ankle was now beginning to give me exquisite pain, I gave the +order to return. Before leaving, however, I looked for a moment at +the sacred footprint, to my mind the least of the wonders of the +Peak, and resembling no foot that ever I saw. We had gone but a few +steps when I plainly guessed from the state of my ankle that our +descent would be full of danger, but the guides assured me of their +carefulness; so once more we attacked the chains.</p> + +<p>"How we got down I shall never fully know; but at last and after +infinite pain we stood at the foot of the cliff and entered the +forest of rhododendrons. And here, to the wild astonishment of my +guides who plainly thought me mad, I bade them leave me and proceed +ahead, remaining within call. They were full of protestations and +dismay, but I was firm. Trusty they might be, but it was well in +this matter to distrust everything and everybody. Finally, +therefore, they obeyed, and I sat watching until their white-clad +forms disappeared in the thicket.</p> + +<p>"As soon as I judged them to have gone a sufficient distance, I arose +and followed, cautiously counting my footsteps. But this was +needless; my father had described the tree as 'noticeable and not to +be missed,' nor was he wrong. Barely had I counted five hundred +paces when it rose into view, uncouth and monstrous. All around it +spread the crimson blossoms of huge rhododendrons; but this strange +tree was at once unlike any of its fellows and of a kind altogether +unknown to me. Its roots were partly bare, and writhed in fantastic +coils across the track. Above these rose and spread its seven trunks +matted with creepers, and then united about four feet below the point +where the branches began. Its foliage was of a dark, glossy green, +particularly dense, and its height, as I should judge, some sixty +feet.</p> + +<p>"Taking out my compass, I started from the left-hand side of the +narrow track, and at a right angle to it. The undergrowth gave me +much trouble, and once I had to make a circuit round a huge +rhododendron; but I fought my way through, and after going, as I +reckoned, thirty-two paces, pulled up full in front of—another +rhododendron.</p> + +<p>"There must be some mistake. My father had spoken of a 'stone shaped +like a man's head,' but said nothing of a rhododendron tree, and +indeed this particular tree was in nowise different from its +companions. I looked around; took a few steps to the right, then to +the left; went round the tree; walked back a few paces; returned to +the tree to see if it concealed anything; then sought the track to +begin my measurement afresh.</p> + +<p>"I was just starting again in a very discomposed mood, when a thought +struck me. I had been behaving like a fool. The parchment said +'at a right angle to the left-hand edge of the track.' I had started +from my left hand, but I was descending the mountain, whereas the +directions of course supposed the explorer to be ascending. +Almost ready to laugh at my stupidity, I tried again.</p> + +<p>"Facing round, I got the needle at an angle of ninety degrees, and +once more began counting. My heart was beginning to beat quickly by +this time, and I felt myself trembling with excitement. The course +was now more easily followed. True, the growth was as thick as ever, +but no rhododendrons blocked my passage. Beating down the creepers +that swung across my face, twined around my legs, and caught at my +cap, I measured thirty-two paces as nearly as I could, and then +stopped.</p> + +<p>"Before me was a patch of velvet grass, some twelve feet square and +bare of the undergrowth that crowded elsewhere; but not a trace of a +stone. I looked right and left, crossed the tiny lawn, peered all +about, but still saw nothing at all resembling what I sought.</p> + +<p>"As it began to dawn on me that all my hopes had been duped, my +journey vain, and my father's words an empty cheat, a sickening +despair got hold of me. My knees shook together, and big drops of +sweat gathered on my forehead. I roused myself and searched again; +again I was baffled. Distractedly I beat the bushes round and round +the tiny lawn, then flung myself down on the turf and gave way to my +despair. To this, then, it had all come; this was the end for which +I had abandoned my wife and child; this the treasure that had dangled +so long before my eyes. Fool that I had been! I cursed my madness +and the hour when I was born; never before had I heartily despised +myself, never until now did I know how the lust for this treasure had +eaten into my soul. The secret, if secret indeed there were, and all +were not a lie, was in the keeping of the silent Peak.</p> + +<p>"I almost wept with wrath. I tore the turf in my frenzy, and felt as +one who would fain curse God and die. But after a while my passion +spent itself. I sat up and reflected that after all my first +direction might have been the right one; at any rate, I would try it +again and explore it thoroughly. The instructions were precise, and +had been confirmed in the matter of the tree. Evidently the person +that wrote them had been upon the Peak, and what, if they were lies, +was to be gained by the cheat?</p> + +<p>"I pulled out the parchment again and read it through; then started +to my feet with fresh energy. I was just leaving the little lawn and +returning down my path, when it struck me that the bush on my left +hand was of a curious shape. It seemed a mere tangled knot of +creepers covered with large white blossom, and rose to about my own +height. Carelessly I thrust my stick into the mass, when its point +jarred upon—stone!</p> + +<p>"Yes, stone! In a moment my knife was out and I was down on hands +and knees cutting and tearing at the tendrils. Some of them were +full three inches thick, but I slashed and tugged, with breath that +came and went immoderately fast, with bleeding hands and thumping +heart, until little by little the stone was bared and its outlines +revealed themselves.</p> + +<p>"But as they grew distinct and I saw what I had uncovered, I fell +back in terror. The stone was about five feet ten inches in height, +and was roughly shaped to represent a human head and neck. But the +face it was that froze my heated blood in horror. Never until I die +shall I forget that hellish expression. It was the smoothly-shaven +face of a man of about fifty years of age, roughly carved after the +fashion of many of the ruins on this mountain. But whoever fashioned +it, the artist must have been a fiend. If ever malignant hate was +expressed in form, it stood before me. Even the blank pupils made +the malevolence seem but the more undying. Every feature, every line +was horrible, every touch of the chisel had added a fresh grace of +devilish spite. It was simply Evil petrified.</p> + +<p>"As this awful face, bared of the innocent creeper that for years had +shrouded its ugliness from the light of day, confronted me, a feeling +of such repulsion overcame me that for several minutes I could not +touch it. The neck was loosely set in a sort of socket fixed in the +earth; this was all the monster's pedestal. I saw that it barely +needed a man's strength to send it toppling over. Yet for a moment I +could summon up none. At length I put my hands to it and with an +effort sent it crashing over amid the brushwood.</p> + +<p>"The trough in which this colossal head had rested was about four +feet in depth, and narrowed towards the bottom. I put down my hand +and drew out—a human thigh-bone. The touch of this would have +turned me sick again, had not the statue's face already surfeited me +with horror. As it was, I was nerved for any sight. The passion of +my discovery was upon me, and I tossed the mouldering bones out to +right and left.</p> + +<p>"But stay. There seemed a great many in the trough. Surely this was +the third thigh-bone that I held now in my hand. Yes, and below, +close to the bottom of the trough, lay two skulls side by side. +There were two, then, buried here. The parchment had only spoken of +one. But I had no time to consider about this. What I sought now +was the Secret, and as I took up the second skull I caught the gleam +of metal underneath it. I put in my hand and drew out a Buckle of +Gold.</p> + +<p>"This buckle is formed of two pieces, bound to either end of a thin +belt of rotten linen, and united by hook and socket. Its whole +dimensions are but 3 inches by 2 inches, but inside its curiously +carved border it is entirely covered with writing in rude English +character. The narrowing funnel of the trough had kept it from being +crushed by the statue, which fitted into a rim running round the +interior. Beyond the buckle and the two skeletons there was nothing +in the trough; but I looked for nothing else. Here, in my hands, lay +the secret of the Great Ruby of Ceylon; my fingers clutched the +wealth of princes. My journey had ended and the riches of the earth +were in my grasp.</p> + +<p>"Forgetful of my guides, forgetful of the flight of time, mindful of +nothing but the Golden Buckle, I sat down by the rim of the trough +and began to decipher the writing. The inscription, as far as I +could gather, ran right across the clasp. It could be read easily +enough and contained accurate directions for searching in some spot, +but where that spot was it did not reveal. It might be close to the +statue; and I was about to start up and make the attempt when I +thought again of the parchment. Pulling it from my pocket, I read: +'<i> … beneath this stone lies the secret of the Great Ruby; and +yet not all, for the rest is graven on the Key which shall be already +entrusted to you. These precautions have I taken that none may +surprise this Secret but its right possessor… .</i>'</p> + +<p>"Now my father's Will had expressly enjoined, on pain of his dying +curse, that this key should not be moved from its place until the +Trenoweth who went to seek the treasure should have returned and +crossed the threshold of Lantrig. Consequently the ruby was not +buried on Adam's Peak, or to return for the key would have been so +much labour wasted. Consequently, also, the Golden Buckle was +valueless to anybody but him who knew the rest of my father's +injunctions. Although not yet in my hand, the Great Ruby was mine. +I was folding up the buckle with the parchment before rejoining the +guides, when a curious thing happened.</p> + +<p>"The sun had climbed high into heaven whilst I was absorbed in my +search, and was now flooding the little lawn with light. In my +excitement I had heard and seen nothing, nor noted that the heat was +growing unbearable beneath the vertical rays. But as I was folding +up the parchment a black shadow suddenly fell across the page. +I started and looked up.</p> + +<p>"Above me stood Simon Colliver.</p> + +<p>"He was standing in the broad light of the sun and watching me +intently, with a curious smile which grew as our eyes met. How long +he had been there I could not guess, but the strangeness of meeting +him on this spot, and the occupation in which I was surprised, +discomposed me not a little. Hastily thrusting back the buckle and +the parchment into my pocket, I scrambled to my feet and stood facing +him. Even as I did so, all Mr. Sanderson's warnings came flashing +into my mind.</p> + +<p>"For full a minute we stood confronting each other without a word. +He was still standing in the full blaze of the sunlight, with the +same odd smile upon his face, and a peculiar light in his dark eyes +that never swerved for a moment. Finally he gave a low laugh and +nodding lightly, said—</p> + +<p>"'Odd thing our meeting like this, eh? Hand of Fate or some such +thing might be mixed up in it from the way we run across each other's +path.'</p> + +<p>"I assented.</p> + +<p>"'Queer too, you'll allow, that we should both be struck with the +fancy for ascending this mountain. Very few Europeans do it, so I'm +told. I'm on my way up, are you? No? Coming down and taking things +easily, to judge by the way I found you occupied.'</p> + +<p>"Was the man mocking me? Or had he, after all, no suspicions? +His voice was soft and pleasant as ever, nor could I detect a trace +of irony in its tone. But I was on my guard.</p> + +<p>"'This Peak seems strewn with the handiwork of the heathen,' he +continued. 'But really you seem to be in luck's way. I congratulate +you. What's this? Skeletons, eh? Upon my word, Trenoweth, you've +unearthed a treasure. And this? A statue? Well, it's a queer place +to come hunting for statues, but you've picked up an ugly-looking +beggar in all conscience!'</p> + +<p>"He had advanced to the head, which lay in the rank herbage staring +up in hideous spite to heaven. Presently he turned to me and said—</p> + +<p>"'Well, this is very remarkable. The fellow who carved this seems to +have borrowed my features—not very complimentary of him, I must say. +Don't you see the likeness?'</p> + +<p>"It was solemn truth. Feature by feature that atrocious face was +simply a reproduction of Colliver's. As I stared in amazement, it +seemed more and more marvellous that I had not noticed the +resemblance before. True, each feature was distorted and exaggerated +to produce the utter malignity of its expression. But the face was +the face of Colliver. Nobody could have called him a handsome man, +but before this I had found Colliver not unpleasant to look upon. +Now the hate of the statue's face seemed to have reflected itself +upon him. I leant against a tree for support and passed my hand +across my brow as if to banish a fearful dream. But it was no dream, +and when he turned to speak again I could see lurking beneath the +assumed expression of the man all the evil passions and foul +wickedness engraved upon the stone.</p> + +<p>"'Well,' he remarked, 'stranger things than this have happened, but +not much. You seem distressed, Trenoweth. Surely I, if any one, +have the right to be annoyed. But you let your antiquarian zeal +carry you too far. It's hardly fair to dig these poor remains from +their sepulchre and leave them to bleach beneath this tropical sun, +even in the interest of science.'</p> + +<p>"With this he knelt down and began to gather—very reverently, as I +thought—the bones into a heap, and replace them in their tomb. +This done, he kicked up a lump or two of turf from the little lawn +and pressed it down upon them, humming to himself all the while. +Finally he rose and turned again towards me—</p> + +<p>"'You'll excuse me, Trenoweth. It's sentimental, no doubt, but I +have conceived a kind of respect for these remains. Suppose, for +example, this face was really a portrait of one of this buried pair. +Why, then the deceased was very like me. I forgive him for +caricaturing my features now; were he alive, it might be different. +But this place is sufficiently out of the way to prevent the +resemblance being noted by many. By the way, I forgot to ask how you +chanced on this spot. For my part, I thought that I heard something +moving in the thicket, so I followed the sound out of pure curiosity, +and came upon you. Well, well! it's a strange world; and it's a +wonderful thought too, that this may be the grave of some primaeval +ancestor of mine who roamed this Peak for his daily food—an ancestor +of some importance too, in his day, to judge by the magnificence of +his tomb. A poet might make something out of this: to-day face to +face with the day before yesterday. But that's the beauty of +archaeology. I did not know it was a pursuit of yours, and am glad +to see you are sufficiently recovered of your illness to take it up +again. Good-bye for the present. I am obliged to be cautious in +taking farewell of you, for we have such a habit of meeting +unexpectedly. So, as I have to be up and moving for the summit, I'll +say 'Good-bye for the present.' We may as well leave this image +where it is; the dead won't miss it, and it's handy by, at any rate. +<i>Addio</i>, Trenoweth, and best of luck to your future researches.'</p> + +<p>"He was gone. I could hear him singing as he went a strange song +which he had often sung on the outward voyage—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"'Sing hey! for the dead man's lips, my lads;<br> + Sing ho! for the dead man's soul.<br> + At his red, red lips…'<br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>"The song died away in the distance before I moved. I had hardly +opened my lips during the interview, and now had much ado to believe +it a reality. But the newly-turfed grave was voucher enough for +this. A horror of the place seized me; I cast one shuddering look at +the giant face and rushed from the spot, leaving the silent creepers +to veil once more that awful likeness from the eyes of day.</p> + +<p>"As I emerged upon the track again I came upon Peter and Paul, who +were seeking me high and low, with dismay written upon their faces. +Excusing my absence as best I could, I declared myself ready, in +spite of my ankle, to make all haste in the descent. Of our journey +down the Peak I need say little, except that, lame as I was, I +surprised and exhausted my guides in my hurry. Of the dangers and +difficulties which had embarrassed our ascent I seemed to feel +nothing. Except in the cool of the forest, the heat was almost +insufferable; but I would hear of no delay until we reached +Ratnapoora. Here, instead of returning as we had come, we took a +boat down the Kalu-ganga river to Cattura, and thence travelled along +the coast by Pantura to Colombo.</p> + +<p>"The object of my journey is now accomplished: and it only remains to +hasten home with all speed. But I am feeling strangely unwell as I +write this. My head has never fully recovered that blow at Bombay, +and I think the hours during which I remained exposed to the sun's +rays, by the side of that awful image, must have affected it. +Or perhaps the fatigue of the journey has worn me out. If I am going +to sicken I must hide my secret. It would be safer to bury it with +the Journal, at any rate for the time, somewhere in the garden here. +I have a tin box that will just answer the purpose. My head is +giving me agony. I can write no more."</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "10"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER X.</h3> + +<h3> +CONTAINS THE THIRD AND LAST PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL:<br> SETTING +FORTH THE MUTINY ON BOARD THE <i>BELLE FORTUNE</i>.</h3><br> + +<p>"June 19th.—Strange that wherever I am hospitably entertained I +recompense my host by falling ill in his house. Since my last entry +in this Journal I have been lying at the gate of death, smitten down +with a sore sickness. It seems that the long exposure and weariness +of my journey to the Peak threw me into a fever: but of this I should +soon have recovered, were it not for my head, which I fear will never +be wholly right again. That cowardly blow upon Malabar Hill has made +a sad wreck of me; twice, when I seemed in a fair way to recovery, +has my mind entirely given way. Mr. Eversleigh, indeed, assures me +that my life has more than once been despaired of—and then what +would have become of poor Margery? I hope I am thankful to God for +so mercifully sparing my poor life, the more so because conscious how +unworthy I am to appear before Him.</p> + +<p>"I trust I did not betray my secret in my wanderings. Mr. Eversleigh +tells me I talked the strangest stuff at times—about rubies and +skeletons, and a certain dreadful face from which I was struggling to +escape. But the security of my Journal and the golden clasp, which I +recovered to-day, somewhat reassures me. I am allowed to walk in the +garden for a short space every day, but not until to-day have I found +strength to dig for my hoard. I can hardly describe my emotions on +finding it safe and sound.</p> + +<p>"Poor Margery! How anxious she must be getting at my silence. +I will write her to-morrow—at least I will begin my letter +to-morrow, for I shall not have strength to finish it in one day. +Even now I ought not to be writing, but I cannot forbear making an +entry in my recovered Journal, if only to record my thankfulness to +Heaven for my great deliverance.</p> + +<p>"June 22nd.—I have written to Margery, but torn the letter up on +second thoughts, as I had better wait until I hear news of a vessel +in which I can safely travel home. Mr. Eversleigh (who is very kind +to me, though not so hearty as Mr. Sanderson) will not hear of my +starting in my present condition. I wonder in what part of the world +Colliver is travelling now.</p> + +<p>"July 1st.—Oh, this weary waiting! Shall I never see the shores of +England again? The doctor says that I only make myself worse with +fretting; but it is hard to linger so—when at my journey's end lies +wealth almost beyond the imagination, and (what is far more to me) +the sight of my dear ones.</p> + +<p>"July 4th.—In answer to my entreaties, Mr. Eversleigh has consented +to make inquiries about the homeward-bound vessels starting from +Colombo. The result is that he has at once allayed my impatience, +and compassed his end of keeping me a little longer, by selecting— +upon condition that I approve his choice—an East Indiaman due to +sail in about a fortnight's time. The name of the ship is the <i>Belle +Fortune</i>, and of the captain, Cyrus Holding. In spite of the name +the ship is English, and is a barque of about 600 tons register. +Her cargo consists of sugar and coffee, and her crew numbers some +eighteen hands. To-morrow I am going down with Mr. Eversleigh to +inspect her, but I am prepared beforehand to find her to my liking. +The only pity is that she does not start earlier.</p> + +<p>"July 6th.—Weak as I am, even yesterday's short excursion exhausted +me, so that I felt unable to write a word last night. I have been +over the <i>Belle Fortune</i>, and am more than pleased, especially with +her captain, whose honest face took my fancy at once. I have a most +comfortable cabin next to his set apart for me, at little cost, since +it had been fitted up for a lady on the outward voyage: so that I +shall still have a little money in pocket on my return, as my living, +both here and at Bombay, has cost me nothing, and the doctor's bills +have not exhausted my store. I wrote to Margery to-day, making as +light of my illness as I could, and saying nothing of the business on +Malabar Hill. That will best be told her when she has me home again, +and can hold my hand feeling that I am secure.</p> + +<p>"July 8th.—I have been down again to-day to see the <i>Belle Fortune</i>. +I forgot to say that she belongs to Messrs. Vincent and Hext, of +Bristol, and is bound for that port. The only other passengers are a +Dr. Concanen and his wife, who are acquaintances of Mr. Eversleigh. +Dr. Concanen is a physician with a good practice in Colombo, or was— +as his wife's delicate health has forced him to throw up his +employment here and return to England. Mr. Eversleigh introduced me +to them this morning on the <i>Belle Fortune</i>. The husband is almost +as tall as my host, and looks a man of great strength: Mrs. Concanen +is frail and worn, but very lovely. To-day she seemed so ill that I +offered to give up my cabin, which is really much more comfortable +than theirs. But she would not hear of it, insisting that I was by +far the greater invalid, and that a sailing vessel would quickly set +her right again—especially a vessel bound for England. Altogether +they promise to be most pleasant companions. I forgot to say that +Mrs. Concanen is taking a native maid home to act as her nurse.</p> + +<p>"July 11th.—We start in a week's time. I had a long talk with +Captain Holding to-day; he hopes to make a fairly quick passage, but +says he is short of hands. I have not seen the Concanens since.</p> + +<p>"July 16th.—We sail to-morrow afternoon. I have been down to make +my final preparations, and find my cabin much to my liking. +Captain Holding is still short of hands.</p> + +<p>"July 17th., 7.30 p.m.—We cast off our warps shortly after four +o'clock, and were quickly running homeward at about seven knots an +hour. The Concanens stood on deck with me watching Ceylon grow dim +on the horizon. As the proud cone of Adam's Peak faded softly and +slowly into the evening mist, and so vanished, as I hope, for ever +out of my life, I could not forbear returning thanks to Providence, +which has thus far watched over me so wonderfully. There is a fair +breeze, and the hands, though short, do their work well to all +appearances. There were only fifteen yesterday, three having been +missed for about a week before we sailed; but I have not yet seen +Captain Holding to ask him if he made up his number of hands at the +last moment. Mrs. Concanen has invited me to their cabin to have a +chat about England.</p> + +<p>"July 18th.—I am more disturbed than I care to own by a very curious +discovery which I made this morning. As I issued on deck I saw a man +standing by the forecastle, whose back seemed familiar to me. +Presently he turned, and I saw him to be Simon Colliver. He has most +strangely altered his appearance, being dressed now as a common +sailor, and wearing rings in his ears as the custom is. Catching +sight of me, he came forward with a pleasant smile and explained +himself.</p> + +<p>"'It is no manner of use, Trenoweth; we're fated to meet. You did +not expect to see me here in this get-up; but I learnt last night you +were on board. You look as though you had seen a ghost! Don't stare +so, man—I should say 'sir' now, I suppose—it's only another of +fortune's rubs. I fell ill after that journey to the Peak, and +although Railton nursed me like a woman—he's a good fellow, Railton, +and not as rough as you would expect—I woke up out of my fever at +last to find all the money gone. I'm a fellow of resource, +Trenoweth, so I hit on the idea of working my passage home; by good +luck found the <i>Belle Fortune</i> was short of hands, offered my +services, was accepted—having been to sea before, you know—sold my +old clothes for this costume—must dress when one is acting a part— +and here I am.'</p> + +<p>"'Is Railton with you?' I asked.</p> + +<p>"'Oh, yes, similarly attired. I did not see you yesterday, being +busy with the cargo, so that it's all the more pleasant to meet here. +But work is the order of the day now. You'll give me a good +character to the captain, won't you? Good-bye for the present.'</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell how much this meeting has depressed me. Certainly I +have no reason for disbelieving the man's story, but the frequency +and strangeness of our meetings make it hard to believe them +altogether accidental. I saw Railton in the afternoon: he is greatly +altered for the worse, and, I should think, had been drinking heavily +before he shipped; but the captain was evidently too short of hands +to be particular. I think I will give the Concanens my tin box to +hide in their cabin. Of course I can trust them, and this will +baffle theft; the clasp I will wear about me. This is a happy idea; +I will go to their cabin now and ask them. It is 9.30 p.m., and the +wind is still fair, I believe.</p> + +<p>"July 20th.—We have so far kept up an average speed of seven and a +half knots an hour, and Captain Holding thinks we shall make even +better sailing when the hands are more accustomed to their work. +I spend my time mostly with the Concanens—who readily, by the way, +undertook the care of my tin box—and find them the most agreeable of +fellow-travellers. Mrs. Concanen has a very sweet voice, and her +husband has learnt to accompany it on the guitar, so that altogether +we spend very pleasant evenings.</p> + +<p>"July 21st, 22nd, 23rd.—The weather is still beautiful, and the +breeze steady. Last night, at about six in the evening, it freshened +up, and we ran all night under reefed topsails in expectation of a +squall; but nothing came of it. I trust the wind will last, not only +because it brings me nearer home, but also because without it the +heat would be intolerable. The mention of home leads me to say that +Mrs. Concanen was most sympathetic when I spoke of Margery. It is +good to be able to talk of my wife to this kind creature, and she is +so devoted to her husband that she plainly finds it easy to +sympathise. They are a most happy couple.</p> + +<p>"July 24th.—Our voyage, hitherto so prosperous, has been marred +to-day by a sad accident. Mr. Wilkins, the mate, was standing almost +directly under the mainmast at about 4.30 this afternoon, when +Railton, who was aloft, let slip a block, which descended on the +mate's head, striking it with fearful force and killing him +instantly. He was an honest, kindly man, to judge from the little I +have seen of him, and, as Captain Holding assures me, an excellent +navigator. Poor Railton was dreadfully upset by the effects of his +clumsiness; although I dislike the man, I have not the heart to blame +him when I see the contrition upon his face.</p> + +<p>"July 25th, midnight.—We buried Wilkins to-day. Captain Holding +read the burial service, and was much affected, for Wilkins was a +great friend of his; we then lowered the body into the sea. I spent +the evening with the Concanens, the captain being on deck and too +depressed to receive consolation. Nor was it much better with us in +the cabin. Although we tried to talk we were all depressed and +melancholy, and I retired earlier than usual to write my Journal.</p> + +<p>"July 26th to August 4th.—There has been nothing to record. +The wind has been fair as yet throughout, though it dropped yesterday +(Aug. 3rd), and we lay for some hours in a dead calm. We have +recovered our spirits altogether by this time.</p> + +<p>"August 5th.—One of our hands, Griffiths, fell overboard to-day and +was drowned. He and Colliver were out upon the fore-yard when +Griffiths slipped, and missing the deck, fell clear into the sea. +The captain was below at the time, but rushed upon deck on hearing +Colliver's alarm of 'Man overboard!' It was too late, however. +The vessel was making eight knots an hour at the time, and although +it was immediately put about, there was not the slightest hope of +finding the poor fellow. Indeed, we never saw him again."</p> + +<p>[At this point the Journal becomes strangely meagre, consisting +almost entirely of disconnected jottings about the weather, while +here and there occurs merely a date with the latitude and longitude +entered opposite. Only two entries seem of any importance: one of +August 20th, noting that they had doubled the Cape, and a second +written two days later and running as follows:—]</p> + +<p>"August 22nd.—Dr. Concanen came into my cabin early this morning and +told me that his wife had just given birth to a son. He seemed +prodigiously elated; and I congratulated him heartily, as this is the +first child born to them. He stayed but a moment or so with me, and +then went back to attend to his wife. I spent most of the day on +deck with Captain Holding, who is unceasingly vigilant now. +Wind continues steadily S.E."</p> + +<p>[After this the record is again scanty, but among less important +entries we found the following:—]</p> + +<p>"August 29th.—Mrs. Concanen rapidly recovering The child is a fine +boy: so, at least, the doctor says, though I confess I should have +thought it rather small. However, it seems able to cry lustily.</p> + +<p>"Sept. 6th.—Sighted Ascension Island.</p> + +<p>"Sept. 8th, 9th.—Wind dropping off and heat positively stifling. +A curious circumstance occurred today (the 9th), which shows that I +did well to be careful of my Journal. I was sitting on deck with the +Concanens, beneath an awning which the doctor has rigged up to +protect us from the heat, when our supply of tobacco ran short. +As I was descending for more I met Colliver coming out of my cabin. +He was rather disconcerted at seeing me, but invented some trivial +excuse about fetching a thermometer which Captain Holding had lent +me. I am confident now that he was on the look-out for my papers, +the more so as I had myself restored the thermometer to the captain's +cabin two days ago. It is lucky that I confided my papers to the +Concanens. As for Railton, the hangdog look on that man's face has +increased with his travels. He seems quite unable to meet my eye, +and returns short, surly answers if questioned. I cannot think his +dejection is solely due to poor Wilkins' death, for I noticed +something very like it on the outward voyage."</p> + +<p>[Here follow a few jottings on weather and speed, which latter—with +the exception of five days during which the vessel lay becalmed— +seems to have been very satisfactory. On the 17th they caught a +light breeze from N.E., and on the 19th passed Cape Verde. +Soon after this the Journal becomes connected again, and so +continues.]</p> + +<p>"Sept. 24th.—Just after daybreak, went on deck, and found Captain +Holding already there. This man seems positively to require no +sleep. Since Wilkins' death he has managed the navigation almost +entirely alone. He seemed unusually grave this morning, and told me +that four of the hands had been taken ill during the night with +violent attacks of vomiting, and were lying below in great danger. +He had not seen the doctor yet, but suspected that something was +wrong with the food. At this point the doctor joined us and took the +captain aside. They conversed earnestly for about three minutes, and +presently I heard the captain exclaiming in a louder tone, 'Well, +doctor, of course you know best, but I can't believe it for all +that.' Shortly after the doctor went below again to look after his +patients. He was very silent when we met again at dinner, and I have +not seen him since.</p> + +<p>"Sept. 25th.—One of the hands, Walters, died during the night in +great agony. We sighted the Peak of Teneriffe early in the +afternoon, and I remained on deck with Mrs. Concanen, watching it. +The doctor is below, analysing the food. I believe he is completely +puzzled by this curious epidemic.</p> + +<p>"Sept. 26th.—Wind N.E., but somewhat lighter. Three more men seized +last night with precisely the same symptoms. With three deaths and +five men ill, we are now left with but nine hands (not counting the +captain) to work the ship. Walters was buried to-day. I learned +from Mrs. Concanen that her husband has made a <i>post mortem</i> +examination of the body. I do not know what his conclusions are.</p> + +<p>"I open my Journal again to record another disquieting accident. +It is odd, but I have missed one of the pieces of my father's clasp. +I am positive it was in my pocket last night. I now have an +indistinct recollection of hearing something fall whilst I was +dressing this morning, but although I have searched both cabin and +state-room thoroughly, I can find nothing. However, even if it has +fallen into Colliver's hands, which is unlikely, he can make nothing +of it, and luckily I know the words written upon it by heart. +Still the loss has vexed me not a little. I will have another search +before turning in to-night.</p> + +<p>"Sept. 27th.—Wind has shifted to N.W. The doctor was summoned +during the night to visit one of the men taken ill two nights before. +The poor fellow died before daybreak, and I hear that another is not +expected to live until night. The doctor has only been on deck for a +few minutes to-day, and these he occupied in talk with the captain, +who seems to have caught the prevailing depression, for he has been +going about in a state of nervous disquietude all the afternoon. +I expect that want of sleep is telling upon him at last. The clasp +is still missing.</p> + +<p>"Sept. 28th.—A rough day, and all hands busily engaged. Wind mostly +S.W., but shifted to due W. before nightfall. Three of the invalids +are better, but the other is still lying in a very critical state.</p> + +<p>"Sept. 29th, 30th, Oct. 1st, 2nd.—Weather squally, so that we may +expect heavy seas in the Bay of Biscay. All the invalids are by this +time in a fair way of recovery, and one of them will be strong enough +to return to work in a couple of days. Doctor Concanen is still +strangely silent, however, and the captain's cheerfulness seems quite +to have left him. Oh, that this gloomy voyage were over!</p> + +<p>"Oct. 3rd.—Weather clearer. Light breeze from S.S.W.</p> + +<p>"Oct. 5th.—Let me roughly put down in few words what has happened, +not that I see at present any chance of leaving this accursed ship +alive, but in the hope that Providence may thus be aided—as far as +human aid may go—in bringing these villains to justice, if this +Journal should by any means survive me.</p> + +<p>"Last night, shortly before ten, I went at Doctor Concanen's +invitation to chat in his cabin. The doctor himself was busily +occupied with some medical works, to which, as his wife assured me, +he had been giving his whole attention of late. But Mrs. Concanen +and I sat talking together of home until close upon midnight, when +the baby, who was lying asleep at her side, awoke and began to cry. +Upon this she broke off her conversation and began to sing the little +fellow to sleep. 'Home, Sweet Home' was the song, and at the end of +the first verse—so sweetly touching, however hackneyed, to all +situated as we—the doctor left his books, came over, and was +standing behind her, running his hands, after a trick of his, +affectionately through her hair, when the native nurse, who slept in +the next cabin and had heard the baby crying, came in and offered to +take him. Mrs. Concanen, however, assured her that it was not +necessary, and the girl was just going out of the door when suddenly +we heard a scream and then the captain's voice calling, 'Trenoweth! +Doctor! Help, help!'</p> + +<p>"The doctor immediately rushed past the maid and up the companion. +I was just following at his heels when I heard two shots fired in +rapid succession, and then a heavy crash. Immediately the girl fell +with a shriek, and the doctor came staggering heavily back on top of +her. Quick as thought, I pulled them inside, locked the cabin door, +and began to examine their wounds. The girl was quite dead, being +shot through the breast, while Concanen was bleeding terribly from a +wound just below the shoulder: the bullet must have grazed his upper +arm, tearing open the flesh and cutting an artery, passed on and +struck the nurse, who was just behind. Mrs. Concanen was kneeling +beside him and vainly endeavouring to staunch the flow of blood.</p> + +<p>"Oddly enough, the attack, from whatever quarter it came, was not +followed up; but I heard two more shots fired on deck, and then a +loud crashing and stamping in the fore part of the vessel, and judged +that the mutineers were battening and barricading the forecastle. +I unlocked the door and was going out to explore the situation, when +the doctor spoke in a weak voice—</p> + +<p>"'Quick, Trenoweth! never mind me. I've got the main artery torn to +pieces and can't last many more minutes—but quick for the captain's +cabin and get the guns. They'll be down presently, as soon as +they've finished up there.'</p> + +<p>"Opening the door and telling Mrs. Concanen—who although white as a +sheet never lost her presence of mind for a moment—to lock it after +me, I stole along the passage, gained the captain's cabin, found two +guns, a small keg of powder (to get at which I had to smash in a +locker with the butt-end of one of the guns), and some large shot, +brought I suppose for shooting gulls.</p> + +<p>"I found also a large packet of revolver cartridges, but no revolver; +and it suddenly struck me that the shots already fired must have been +from the captain's revolver, taken probably from his dead body. +Yes, as I remembered the sound of the shots I was sure of it. +The mutineers had probably no other ammunition, and so far I was +their master.</p> + +<p>"Fearful that by smashing the locker I had made noise enough to be +heard above the turmoil on deck, I returned swiftly and had just +reached the door of Concanen's cabin, when I heard a shout above, and +a man whom I recognised by the voice as Johnston, the carpenter, came +rushing down the steps crying, 'Hide me, doctor, hide me!' As Mrs. +Concanen opened the door in answer to my call, another shot was +fired, the man suddenly threw up his hands and we tumbled into the +cabin together. I turned as soon as I had locked and barricaded the +door, and saw him lying on his face—quite dead. He had been shot in +the back, just below the shoulder-blades.</p> + +<p>"The doctor also was at his last gasp, and the floor literally swam +with blood. As we bent over him to catch his words he whispered, +'It was Railton—that—I saw. Good-bye, Alice,' and fell back a +corpse. I carried the body to a corner of the cabin, took off my +jacket and covered up his face, and turned to Mrs. Concanen. She was +dry-eyed, but dreadfully white.</p> + +<p>"'Give me the guns,' she said quietly, 'and show me how to load +them.'</p> + +<p>"I was doing so when I heard footsteps coming slowly down the +companion. A moment after, two crashing blows were struck upon the +door-panel and Colliver's voice cried—</p> + +<p>"'Trenoweth, you dog, are you hiding there? Give me up those papers +and come out.'</p> + +<p>"For answer I sent a charge of shot through the cabin door, and in an +instant heard him scrambling back with all speed up the stairs.</p> + +<p>"By this time it was about 3 a.m., and to add to the horrors of our +plight the lamp suddenly went out and left us in utter darkness. +I drew Mrs. Concanen aside—after strengthening the barricade about +the door—put her and the child in a corner where she would be safe +if they attempted to fire through the skylight, and then sat down +beside her to consider.</p> + +<p>"If, as I suspected, the mutineers had only the revolver which they +had taken from the captain, they had but one shot left, for I had +already counted five, and it was not likely that Holding—who always, +as I knew, carried some weapon with him—would have any loose +cartridges upon him at a time when no one suspected the least danger.</p> + +<p>"Next, as to numbers. Excluding Captain Holding—now dead—and +including the cook I reckoned that there were fourteen hands on +board. Of these, five were sick and probably at this moment +barricaded in the forecastle. One, the carpenter, was lying here +dead, and from the shriek which preceded the captain's cry, another +had already been accounted for by the mutineers.</p> + +<p>"This reduced the number to eight. The next question was, how many +were the mutineers? I had guessed at once that Colliver and Railton +had a hand in the business, for (in addition to my previous distrust +of the men) it was just upon midnight when we heard the first cry, +that is to say, the time when the watch was changed, and I knew that +these two belonged to the captain's watch. But could they be alone?</p> + +<p>"It seemed impossible, and yet I knew no others among the crew to +distrust, and certainly Davis, who was acting as mate at present, +was, although an indifferent navigator, as true as steel. Moreover, +the fact that the mutineers' success in shooting the doctor had not +been followed up, made my guess seem more likely. Certainly Colliver +and Railton were the only two of whom we could be sure as yet. +Nevertheless the supposition was amazing.</p> + +<p>"I had arrived at this point in my calculations when a yell which I +recognised, told me that they had caught Cox the helmsman and were +murdering him. After this came dead silence, which lasted all +through the night.</p> + +<p>"I must hasten to conclude this, for we have no light in the cabin, +and I am writing now by the faint evening rays that struggle in +through the sky-light. As soon as morning broke I determined to +reconnoitre. Cautiously removing the barricade, I opened the cabin +door and stole up the companion ladder. Arrived at the top I peered +cautiously over and saw the mutineers sitting by the forward hatch, +drinking. They were altogether four in number—Colliver, Railton, a +seaman called Rogerson, who had lately been punished by Captain +Holding for sleeping when on watch, and the cook, a Chinaman. +Rogerson was not with the rest, but had hold of the wheel and was +steering. The vessel at the time was sailing under crowded canvas +before a stiff sou'-westerly breeze. I kept low lest Rogerson should +see me, but he was obviously more than half drunk, and was chiefly +occupied in regarding his comrades with anything but a pleasant air. +Just as I was drawing a beautiful bead however, and had well covered +Colliver, he saw me and gave the alarm; and immediately the three +sprang to their feet and made for me, the Chinaman first. Altering +my aim I waited until he came close and then fired. I must have hit +him, I think in the ankle, for he staggered and fell with a loud cry +about ten paces from me. Seeing this, I made all speed again down +the ladder, turning at the cabin door for a hasty shot with the +second barrel, which, I think, missed. The other two pursued me +until I gained the cabin, and then went back to their comrade. +The rest of the day has been quite quiet. Luckily we have a large +tin of biscuits in the cabin, so as far as food goes we can hold out +for some time. Mrs. Concanen and I are going to take turns at +watching to-night.</p> + +<p>"Oct. 6th, 4 p.m.—At about 1.30 a.m. I was sleeping when Mrs. +Concanen woke me on hearing a noise by the skylight. The mutineers, +finding this to be the only point from which they could attack us +with any safety, had hit upon the plan of lashing knives to the end +of long sticks and were attempting to stab us with these clumsy +weapons. It was so dark that I could hardly see to aim, but a couple +of shots fired in rapid succession drove them quickly away. The rest +of the night was passed quietly enough, except for the cries of the +infant, which are very pitiable. The day, too, has been without +event, except that I have heard occasional sounds in the +neighbourhood of the forecastle, which I think must come from the +sick men imprisoned there, and attempting to cut their way out.</p> + +<p>"Oct. 7th.—We are still let alone. Doubtless the mutineers think to +starve us out or to lull us into a false security and catch us +unawares. As for starvation, the box of biscuits will last us both +for a week or more; and they stand little chance of taking us by +surprise, for one of us is always on the watch whilst the other +sleeps. They spent last night in drinking. Railton's voice was very +loud at times, and I could hear Colliver singing his infernal song—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"'Sing hey! for the dead man's lips, my lads.'</p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>"That man must be a fiend incarnate. I have but little time to write, +and between every word have to look about for signs of the mutineers. +I wonder whither they are steering us.</p> + +<p>"Oct. 8th.—A rough day evidently, by the way in which the vessel is +pitching, but I expect the crew are for the most part drunk. We must +find some way of getting rid of the dead bodies soon. I hardly like +to speak to Mrs. Concanen about it. Words cannot express the +admiration I feel for the pluck of this delicate woman. She asked me +to-day to show her how to use a gun, and I believe will fight to the +end. Her child is ailing fast, poor little man! And yet he is +happier than we, being unconscious of all these horrors.</p> + +<p>"Oct. 9th, 3.30 p.m.—Sick of this inaction I made another expedition +up the companion to-day. Rogerson was steering, and Railton standing +by the wheel talking to him. He had a bottle in his hand and seemed +very excited. I could not see Colliver at first, but on glancing up +at the rigging saw a most curious sight. There was a man on the +main-top, the boatswain, Kelly, apparently asleep. Below him +Colliver was climbing up, knife in mouth, and was already within a +couple of yards of him. I fired and missed, but alarmed Kelly, who +jumped up and seized a block which he had cut off to defend himself +with. At the same moment Railton and Rogerson made for me. As I +retreated down the ladder I stumbled, the gun went off and I think +hit Rogerson, who was first. We rolled down the stairs together, he +on top and hacking at me furiously with a knife. At this moment I +heard the report of a gun, and my assailant's grasp suddenly relaxed. +He fell back, tripping up Railton who was following unsteadily, and +so giving me time to gain the cabin door, where Mrs. Concanen was +standing, a smoking gun in her hand. Before we could shut the door, +however, Colliver, who by this time had gained the head of the +stairs, fired, and she dropped backwards inside the cabin. +Locking the door, I found her lying with a wound just below the +heart. She had just time to point to her child before she died. +Was ever so ghastly a tragedy?</p> + +<p>"Oct. 10th.—Awake all night, trying to soothe the cries of the +child, and at the same time keeping a good look-out for the +mutineers. The sea is terribly rough, and the poor corpses are being +pitched from side to side of the cabin. At midday I heard a cry on +deck, and judged that Kelly had dropped from the rigging in pure +exhaustion. The noise in the forecastle is awful. I think some of +the men there must be dead.</p> + +<p>"Oct. 11th, 5 p.m.—The child is dying. There is a fearful storm +raging, and with this crew the vessel has no chance if we are +anywhere near land. God help—"</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "11"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER XI.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS OF THE WRITING UPON THE GOLDEN CLASP;<br> AND HOW I TOOK DOWN THE +GREAT KEY.</h3><br> + +<p>So ended my father's Journal—in a silence full of tragedy, a silence +filled in with the echo of that awful cry borne landwards on the +wings of the storm; and now, in the presence of this mute witness, +shaping itself into the single word "Murder." Of the effect of the +reading upon us, I need not speak at any length. For the most part +it had passed without comment; but the occasional choking of Uncle +Loveday's voice, my own quickening breath as the narrative continued, +and the tears that poured down the cheeks of both of us as we heard +the simple loving messages for Margery—messages so vainly tender, so +pitifully fond—were evidence enough of our emotion.</p> + +<p>I say that we both wept, and it is true. But though, do what I +could, my young heart would swell and ache until the tears came at +times, yet for the most part I sat with cold and gathering hate. +It was mournful enough when I consider it. That the hand which +penned these anxious lines should be cold and stiff, the ear for +which they were so lovingly intended for ever deaf: that all the warm +hopes should end beside that bed where husband and wife lay dead— +surely this was tragic enough. But I did not think of this at the +time—or but dimly if at all. Hate, impotent hate, was consuming my +young heart as the story drew to its end; hate and no other feeling +possessed me as Uncle Loveday broke abruptly off, turned the page in +search of more, found none, and was silent.</p> + +<p>Once he had stopped for a moment to call for a candle. +Mrs. Busvargus brought it, trimmed the wick, and again retired. +This was our only interruption. Joe Roscorla had not returned from +Polkimbra; so we were left alone to the gathering shadows and the +horror of the tale.</p> + +<p>When my uncle finished there was a long pause. Finally he reached +out his hand for his pipe, filled it, and looked up. His kindly face +was furrowed with the marks of weeping, and big tears were yet +standing in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Murdered," he said, "murdered, if ever man was murdered."</p> + +<p>"Yes," I echoed, "murdered."</p> + +<p>"But we'll have the villain," he exclaimed, bringing his fist down on +the table with sudden energy. "We'll have him for all his cunning, +eh, boy?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet," I answered; "he is far away by this time. But we'll have +him: oh, yes, we'll have him."</p> + +<p>Uncle Loveday looked at me oddly for a moment, and then repeated—</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, we'll have him safe enough. Joe Roscorla must have given +the alarm before he had time to go far. And to think," he added, +throwing up his hand, "that I talked to the villain only yesterday +morning as though he were some unfortunate victim of the sea!"</p> + +<p>I am sure that my uncle was regretting the vast deal of very fine +language he had wasted: and, indeed, he had seldom more nobly risen +to an occasion.</p> + +<p>"Pearls, pearls before swine! Swine did I say? Snakes, if it's not +an insult to a snake to give its name to such as Colliver. What did +you say, Jasper?"</p> + +<p>"We'll have him."</p> + +<p>"Jasper, my boy," said he, scanning me for a second time oddly, +"maybe you'll be better in bed. Try to sleep again, my poor lad— +what do you think?"</p> + +<p>"I think," I answered, "that we have not yet looked at the clasp."</p> + +<p>"My dear boy, you're right: you're right again. Let us look at it."</p> + +<p>The piece of metal resembled, as I have said, the half of a +waist-buckle, having a socket but no corresponding hook. In shape it +was slightly oblong, being about 2 inches by one and a half inches. +It glittered brightly in the candle's ray as Uncle Loveday polished +it with his handkerchief, readjusted his spectacles, and bent over +it.</p> + +<p>At the end of a minute he looked up, and said—</p> + +<p>"I cannot make head or tail of it. It seems plain enough to read, +but makes nonsense. Come over here and see for yourself."</p> + +<p>I bent over his shoulder, and this is what I saw—</p> + +<p>The edge of the clasp was engraved with a border of flowers and +beasts, all exquisitely small. Within this was cut, by a much +rougher hand, an inscription which was plain enough to read, though +making no sense whatever. The writing was arranged in five lines of +three words apiece, and ran thus:—</p> + +<center> +<table> + + <tr> + <td>MOON</td> + <td>END</td> + <td>SOUTH</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>N.N.W.</td> + <td>22</td> + <td>FEET</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>NORTH</td> + <td>SIDE    </td> + <td>4</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>DEEP</td> + <td>AT</td> + <td>POINT</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>WATER  </td> + <td>1.5</td> + <td>HOURS</td> + + </tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<p>I read the words a full dozen times, and then, failing of any +interpretation, turned to Uncle Loveday—</p> + +<p>"Jasper," said he, "to my mind those words make nonsense."</p> + +<p>"And to mine, uncle."</p> + +<p>"Now attend to me, Jasper. This is evidently but one half of the +clasp which your father discovered. That's as plain as daylight. +The question is, what has become of the other half, of the hook that +should fit into this eye? Now, what I want you to do is to try and +remember if this was all that the man Railton gave you."</p> + +<p>"This was all."</p> + +<p>"You are quite certain?"</p> + +<p>"Quite."</p> + +<p>"You did not leave the other piece behind in the cow-shed by any +chance?"</p> + +<p>"No, for I looked at the packet before I hid it, and there was only +one piece of metal."</p> + +<p>"Very well. One half of the golden clasp being lost, the next +question is, what has become of it?"</p> + +<p>I nodded.</p> + +<p>"To this," said Uncle Loveday, bending forward over the table, "two +answers are possible. Either it lies at the bottom of the sea with +the rest of the freight of the <i>Belle Fortune</i>, or it is in +Colliver's possession."</p> + +<p>"It may lie beneath Dead Man's Rock, in John Railton's pocket," I +suggested.</p> + +<p>"True, my boy, true; you put another case. But anyhow it makes no +difference. If it lies at the bottom of the sea, whether in +Railton's pocket or not, the secret is safe. If it is in Colliver's +possession the secret is safe, unless he has seen and learnt by heart +this half of the inscription. In any case, I am sorry to tell you— +and this is what I was coming to—the secret is closed against us for +the time."</p> + +<p>"That is not certain," said I.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Jasper, it is quite certain. You admit yourself that +this writing is nonsense. Well and good. But besides this, I would +have you remember," pursued Uncle Loveday, turning once more to my +father's Journal, "that Ezekiel expressly says, 'The inscription ran +right across the clasp.' It could be read easily enough and +contained accurate directions for searching in some spot, but where +that spot was it did not reveal—"</p> + +<p>"Quite so," I interrupted, "and that is just what we have to +discover."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Why, by means of the key, as the parchment and the Will plainly +show. We may still be beaten, but even so, we shall know whereabouts +to look, if we can only catch Colliver."</p> + +<p>"Bless the boy!" said Uncle Loveday, "he certainly has a head."</p> + +<p>"Uncle," continued I, rising to my feet, "the secret of the Great +Ruby is written upon my grandfather's key. That key was to be taken +down when he that undertook the task of discovering the secret should +have returned and crossed the threshold of Lantrig. Uncle, my father +has crossed the threshold of Lantrig—"</p> + +<p>"Feet foremost, feet foremost, my boy. Oh, poor Ezekiel!"</p> + +<p>"Feet foremost, yes," I continued—"dead and murdered, yes. But he +has come: come to find my mother dead, but still he has come. +Uncle, I am the only Trenoweth left to Lantrig; think of it, the only +one left—"</p> + +<p>"Poor Ezekiel! Poor Margery!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, uncle, and all I inherit is the knife that murdered my father, +and this key. I have the knife, and I will take down the key. +We are not beaten yet."</p> + +<p>I drew a chair under the great beam, and mounted it. When first my +grandfather returned he had hung the iron key upon its hook, giving +strict injunctions that no one should touch it. There ever since it +had hung, the centre of a host of spiders' webs. Even my poor +mother's brush, so diligent elsewhere, had never invaded this sacred +relic, and often during our lonely winter evenings had she told me +the story of it: how that Amos Trenoweth's dying curse was laid upon +the person that should touch it, and how the spiders' days were +numbered with every day that brought my father nearer home.</p> + +<p>There it hung now, scarcely to be seen for cobwebs. Its hour had +come at last. Even as I stretched out my hand a dozen horrid things +hurried tumultuously back into darkness. Even as I laid my hand on +it, a big ungainly spider, scared but half incredulous, started in +alarm, hesitated, and finally made off at full speed for shelter.</p> + +<p>This, then, was the key that should unlock the treasure—this, +that had from the first hung over us, the one uncleansed spot in +Lantrig: this was the talisman—this grimy thing lying in my hand. +The spiders had been jealous in their watch.</p> + +<p>Stepping down, I got a cloth and brushed away the cobwebs. The key +was covered thickly with rust, but even so I could see that something +was written upon it. For about a minute I stood polishing it, and +then carried it forward to the light.</p> + +<p>Yes, there was writing upon it, both on the handle and along the +shaft—writing that, as it shaped itself before my eyes, caused them +to stare in wrathful incredulity, caused my heart to sink at first in +dismay and then to swell in mad indignation, caused my blood to turn +to gall and my thoughts to very bitterness. For this was what I +read:—</p> + +<p>On the handle were engraved in large capitals the initials A. T. +with the date MDCCCXII. Alone the shaft, from handle to wards, ran +on either side the following sentence in old English lettering:—</p> + +<p>THY HOUSE IS SET UPON THE SANDS AND THY HOPES BY A DEAD MAN.</p> + +<p>This was all. This short sentence was the sum of all the vain quest +on which my father had met his end. "Thy house is set upon the +sands," and even now had crumbled away beneath Amos Trenoweth's curse +"Thy hopes by a dead man," and even now he on whom our hopes had +rested, lay upstairs a pitiful corpse. Was ever mockery more +fiendish? As the full cruelty of the words broke in upon me, once +again I seemed to hear the awful cry from the sea, but now among its +voices rang a fearful laugh as though Amos Trenoweth's soul were +making merry in hell over his grim jest—the slaughter of his son and +his son's wife.</p> + +<p>White with desperate passion, I turned and hurled the accursed key +across the room into the blazing hearth.</p> +<br> +<h3>END OF BOOK I.</h3> +<br> +<br> +<br> + + +<h2> +BOOK II.</h2> + + + +<h2> +THE FINDING OF THE GREAT RUBY.</h2> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "12"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3> + + + +<h3>TELLS HOW THOMAS LOVEDAY AND I WENT IN SEARCH OF FORTUNE.</h3><br> + +<p>Seeing that these pages do not profess to be an autobiography, but +rather the plain chronicle of certain events connected with the Great +Ruby of Ceylon, I conceive myself entitled to the reader's pardon if +I do some violence to the art of the narrator, and here ask leave to +pass by, with but slight allusion, some fourteen years. This I do +because the influence of this mysterious jewel, although it has +indelibly coloured my life, has been sensibly exercised during two +periods alone—periods short in themselves, but nevertheless long +enough to determine between them every current of my destiny, and to +supply an interpretation for my every action.</p> + +<p>I am the more concerned with advertising the reader of this, as on +looking back upon what I have written with an eye as far as may be +impartial, I have not failed to note one obvious criticism that will +be passed upon me. "How," it will be asked, "could any boy barely +eight years of age conceive the thoughts and entertain the emotions +there attributed to Jasper Trenoweth?"</p> + +<p>The criticism is just as well as obvious. As a solitary man for ever +brooding on the past, I will not deny that I may have been led to +paint that past in colours other than its own. Indeed, it would be +little short of a miracle were this not so. A morbid soul—and I +will admit that mine is morbid—preying upon its recollections, and +nourished on that food alone, cannot hope to attain the sense of +proportion which is the proper gift of varied experience. I readily +grant, therefore, that the lights and shades on this picture may be +wrong, as judged by the ordinary eye, but I do claim them to be a +faithful reproduction of my own vision. As I look back I find them +absolutely truthful, nor can I give the lie to my own impressions in +the endeavour to write what shall seem true to the rest of the world.</p> + +<p>This must be, therefore, my excuse for asking the reader to pass by +fourteen years and take up the tale far from Lantrig. But before I +plunge again into my story, it is right that I should briefly touch +on the chief events that occurred during this interval in my life.</p> + +<p>They buried my father and mother in the same grave in Polkimbra +Churchyard. I remember now that crowds of fisher-folk lined the way +to their last resting-place, and a host, as it seemed to me, of +tear-stained faces watched the coffins laid in the earth. But all +else is a blurred picture to me, as, indeed, is the time for many a +long day after.</p> + +<p>Colliver was never found. Captain Merrydew raised the hue and cry, +but the sailor Georgio Rhodojani was never seen again from the moment +when his evil face leered in through the window of Lantrig. A reward +was offered, and more than once Polkimbra was excited with the news +of his arrest, but it all came to nothing. Failing his capture, +Uncle Loveday was wisely silent on the subject of my father's Journal +and the secret of the Great Ruby. He had not been idle, however. +After long consultation with Aunt Elizabeth he posted off to Plymouth +to gain news of Lucy Railton and her daughter, but without success. +The "Welcome Home" still stood upon the Barbican, but the house was +in possession of new tenants, and neither they nor their landlord +could tell anything of the Railtons except that they had left +suddenly about two months before (that being the date of the wreck of +the <i>Belle Fortune</i>) after paying their rent to the end of the +Christmas quarter. The landlord could give no reasons for their +departure—for the house had a fair trade—but supposed that the +husband must have returned from sea and taken them away. +Uncle Loveday, of course, knew better, but on this point held his +peace. The one result of all his inquiries was the certainty that +the Railtons had vanished utterly.</p> + +<p>So Lantrig, for the preservation of which my father had given his +life, was sold to strangers, and I went to live with Aunt and Uncle +Loveday at Lizard Town. The proceeds of the sale (and they were +small indeed) Uncle Loveday put carefully by until such time as I +should be cast upon the world to seek my fortune. For twelve +uneventful years my aunt fed me, and uncle taught me—being no mean +scholar, especially in Latin, which tongue he took great pains to +make me perfect in. Thomas Loveday was my only companion, and soon +became my dear friend. Poor Tom! I can see his handsome face before +me now as it was in those old days—the dreamy eyes, the rare smile +with its faint suggestion of mockery, the fair curls in which a +breeze seemed for ever blowing, the pursed lips that had a habit of +saying such wonderful things. In my dreams—those few dreams of mine +that are happy—we are always boys together, climbing the cliffs for +eggs, or risking our lives in Uncle Loveday's boat—always boys +together. Poor Tom! Poor Tom!</p> + +<p>So the unmarked time rolled on, until there came a memorable day in +July on which I must touch for a moment. It was evening. I was +returning with Tom to Lizard Town from Dead Man's Rock, where we had +been basking all the sunny afternoon, Tom reading, and I simply +staring vacantly into the heavens and wondering when the time would +come that should set me free to unravel the mystery of this +ill-omened spot. Finally, after taking our fill of idleness, we +bathed as the sun was setting; and I remember wondering, as I dived +off the black ledge, whether beneath me there lay any relic of the +<i>Belle Fortune</i>, any fragment that might preserve some record of her +end. I had dived here often enough, but found nothing, nor could I +see anything to-day but the clean sand twinkling beneath its veil of +blue, though here, as I guessed, must still lie the bones of John +Railton. But I must hasten. We were returning over the Downs when +suddenly I spied a small figure running towards us, and making +frantic signals of distress.</p> + +<p>"That," said I, "from the shape of it, must be Joe Roscorla."</p> + +<p>And Joe Roscorla it was, only by no means the Joe Roscorla of +ordinary life, but a galvanised and gesticulating Joe, whereas the +Joe that we knew was of a lethargic bearing and slow habit of speech. +Still, it was he, and as he came up to us he stayed all questioning +by gasping out the word "Missus!" and then falling into a violent fit +of coughing.</p> + +<p>"Well, what is amiss?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"Took wi' a seizure, an' maister like a thing mazed," blurted Joe, +and then fell to panting and coughing worse than ever.</p> + +<p>"What! a seizure? paralysis do you mean?" I asked, while Tom turned +white.</p> + +<p>"Just a seizure, and I ha'n't got time for no longer name. But run +if 'ee want to see her alive."</p> + +<p>We ran without further speech, Joe keeping at our side for a minute, +but soon dropping behind and fading into distance. As we entered the +door Uncle Loveday met us, and I saw by his face that Aunt Elizabeth +was dead.</p> + +<p>She had been in the kitchen busied with our supper, when she suddenly +fell down and died in a few minutes. Heart disease was the cause, +but in our part people only die of three complaints—a seizure, an +inflammation, or a decline. The difference between these is purely +one of time, so that Joe Roscorla, learning the suddenness of the +attack, judged it forthwith a case of "seizure," and had so reported.</p> + +<p>My poor aunt was dead; and until now we had never known how we loved +her. Like so many of the Trenoweths she seemed hard and reserved to +many, but we who had lived with her had learnt the goodness of her +soul and the sincerity of her religion. The grief of her husband was +her noblest epitaph.</p> + +<p>He, poor man, was inconsolable. Without his wife he seemed as one +deprived of most of his limbs, and moved helplessly about, as though +life were now without purpose. Accustomed to be ruled by her at +every turn, he missed her in every action of the day. Very swiftly +he sank, of no assigned complaint, and within six months was laid +beside her.</p> + +<p>On his death-bed my uncle seemed strangely troubled about us. +Tom was to be a doctor. My destiny was not so certain; but already I +had renounced in my heart an inglorious life in Lizard Town. +I longed to go with Tom; in London, too, I thought I should be free +to follow the purpose of my life. But the question was, how should I +find the money? For I knew that the sum obtained by the sale of +Lantrig was miserably insufficient. So I sat with idle hands and +waited for destiny; nor did I realise my helplessness until I stood +in the room where Uncle Loveday lay dying.</p> + +<p>"Tom," said my uncle, "Tom, come closer."</p> + +<p>Tom bent over the bed.</p> + +<p>"I am leaving you two boys without friends in this world. You have +friends in Lizard Town, but Lizard Town is a small world, Tom. +I ought to have sent you to London before, but kept putting off the +parting. If one could only foresee—could only foresee."</p> + +<p>He raised himself slightly on his elbow, and continued with pain—</p> + +<p>"You will go to Guy's, and Jasper, I hope, may go with you. +Be friends, boys; you will want friendship in this world. It will be +a struggle, for there is barely enough for both. But it is best to +share equally; <i>she</i> would have wished that. She was always planning +that. I am doing it badly, I know, but she would have done it +better."</p> + +<p>The chill December sun came stealing in and illumined the sick man's +face with a light that was the shadow of heaven. The strange doctor +moved to the blind. My uncle's voice arrested him—</p> + +<p>"No, no. Leave it up. You will have to pull it down very soon—only +a few moments now. Tom, come closer. You have been a good boy, Tom, +a good boy, though"—with a faint smile—"a little trying at times. +Ah, but she forgave you, Tom. She loved you dearly; she will tell me +so—when we meet."</p> + +<p>My uncle's gaze began to wander, as though anticipating that meeting; +but he roused himself and said—</p> + +<p>"Kiss me, Tom, and send Jasper to me."</p> + +<p>Bitterly weeping, Tom made room, and I bent over the bed.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Jasper, it is you. Kiss me, boy. I have been telling Tom that +you must share alike. God has been stern with you, Jasper, to His +own good ends—His own good ends. Only be patient, it will come +right at the last. How dark it is getting; pull up the blind."</p> + +<p>"The blind is up, uncle."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, I forgot. I have often thought—do you remember that day— +reading your father's paper—and the key?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, uncle."</p> + +<p>"I have often thought—about that key—which you flung into the +fire—and I picked out—your father Ezekiel's key—keep it. +Closer, Jasper, closer—"</p> + +<p>I bent down until my ear almost touched his lips.</p> + +<p>"I have—often—thought—we were wrong that night—and perhaps— +meant—search—in …"</p> + +<p>For quite a minute I bent to catch the next word, then looking on his +face withdrew my arm and laid the grey head back upon the pillow.</p> + +<p>My uncle was dead.</p> + +<p> +So it happened that a few weeks after Tom and I, having found Uncle +Loveday's savings equally divided between us, started from Lizard +Town by coach to seek our fortunes in London. In London it is that I +must resume my tale. Of our early mishaps and misadventures I need +not speak, the result being discernible as the story progresses. +We did not find our fortunes, but we found some wisdom. Neither Tom +nor I ever confessed to disappointment at finding the pavements of +mere stone, but certainly two more absolute Whittingtons never trod +the streets of the great city.</p> + +<p>But before I resume I must say a few words of myself. No reader can +gather the true moral of this narrative who does not take into +account the effect which the cruel death of my parents had wrought on +me. From the day of the wreck hate had been my constant companion, +cherished and nursed in my heart until it held complete mastery over +all other passions. I lived, so I told myself over and over again, +but to avenge, to seek Simon Colliver high and low until I held him +at my mercy. Thousands of times I rehearsed the scene of our +meeting, and always I held the knife which stabbed my father. In my +waking thoughts, in my dreams, I was always pursuing, and Colliver +for ever fleeing before me. In every crowd I seemed to watch for his +face alone, at every street-corner to listen for his voice—that +face, that voice, which I should know among thousands. I had read +De Quincey's "Opium-Eater," and the picture of his unresting search +for his lost Ann somehow seized upon my imagination. Night after +night it was to Oxford Street that my devil drove me: night after +night I paced the "never-ending terraces," as did the opium-eater, on +my tireless quest—but with feelings how different! To me it was but +one long thirst of hatred, the long avenues of gaslight vistas of an +avenging hell, all the multitudinous sounds of life but the chorus of +that song to which my footsteps trod—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"Sing ho! but he waits for you."<br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>To London had Simon Colliver come, and somewhere, some day, he would +be mine. Until that day I sought a living face in a city of dead +men, and down that illimitable slope to Holborn, and back again, I +would tramp until the pavements were silent and deserted, then seek +my lodging and throw myself exhausted on the bed.</p> + +<p>In a dingy garret, looking out, when its grimy panes allowed, above +one of the many squalid streets that feed the main artery of the +Strand, my story begins anew. The furniture of the room relieves me +of the task of word-painting, being more effectively described by +catalogue, after the manner of the ships at Troy. It consisted of +two small beds, one rickety washstand, one wooden chair, and one tin +candlestick. At the present moment this last held a flickering dip, +for it was ten o'clock on the night of May the ninth, eighteen +hundred and sixty-three. On the chair sat Tom, turning excitedly the +leaves of a prodigiously imposing manuscript. I was sitting on the +edge of the bed nearest the candle, brooding on my hate as usual.</p> + +<p>Fortune had evidently dealt us some rough knocks. We were dressed, +as Tom put it, to suit the furniture, and did it to a nicety. +We were fed, according to the same authority, above our income; but +not often. I also quote Tom in saying that we were living rather +fast: we certainly saw no long prospect before us. In short, matters +had reached a crisis.</p> + +<p>Tom looked up from his reading.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Jasper, I could wish that our wash-stand had not a +hole cut in it to receive the basin. It sounds hyper-critical. +But really it prejudices me in the eyes of the managers. There's a +suspicious bulge in the middle of the paper that is damning."</p> + +<p>I was absorbed in my own thoughts, and took no notice. Presently he +continued—</p> + +<p>"Whittington is an overrated character, don't you think? After all +he owed his success to his name. It's a great thing for struggling +youth to have a three-syllabled name with a proparoxyton accent. +I've been listening to the bells to-night and they can make nothing +of Loveday, while as for Trenoweth, it's hopeless."</p> + +<p>As I still remained silent, Tom proceeded to announce—</p> + +<p>"The House will now go into the Question of Supply."</p> + +<p>"The Exchequer," I reported, "contains exactly sixteen and eightpence +halfpenny."</p> + +<p>"Rent having been duly paid to-day and receipt given."</p> + +<p>"Receipt given," I echoed.</p> + +<p>"Really, when one comes to think of it, the situation is striking. +Here are you, Jasper Trenoweth, inheritor of the Great Ruby of +Ceylon, besides other treasure too paltry to mention, in danger of +starving in a garret. Here am I, Thomas Loveday, author of +'Francesca: a Tragedy,' and other masterpieces too numerous to +catalogue, with every prospect of sharing your fate. The situation +is striking, Jasper, you'll allow."</p> + +<p>"What did the manager say about it?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Only just enough to show he had not looked at it. He was more +occupied with my appearance; and yet we agreed before I set out that +your trousers might have been made for me. They are the most +specious articles in our joint wardrobe: I thought to myself as +walked along to-day, Jasper, that after all it is not the coat that +makes the gentleman—it's the trousers. Now, in the matter of boots, +I surpass you. If yours decay at their present rate, your walks in +Oxford Street will become a luxury." + +I was silent again.</p> + +<p>"I do not recollect any case in fiction of a man being baulked of his +revenge for the want of a pair of boots. Cheer up, Jasper, boy," he +continued, rising and placing a hand on my shoulder. "We have been +fools, and have paid for it. You thought you could find your enemy +in London, and find the hiding-place too big. I thought I could +write, and find I cannot. As for legitimate work, sixteen and +eightpence halfpenny, even with economy, will hardly carry us on for +three years."</p> + +<p>I rose. "I will have one more walk in Oxford Street," I said, +"and then come home and see this miserable farce of starvation out."</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool, Jasper. It is difficult, I know, to perish with +dignity on sixteen and eightpence halfpenny: the odd coppers spoil +the effect. Still we might bestow them on a less squeamish beggar +and redeem our pride."</p> + +<p>"Tom," I said, suddenly, "you lost a lot of money once over +<i>rouge-et-noir</i>."</p> + +<p>"Don't remind me of that, Jasper."</p> + +<p>"No, no; but where did you lose it?"</p> + +<p>"At a gambling hell off Leicester Square. But why—"</p> + +<p>"Should you know the place again? Could you find it?"</p> + +<p>"Easily."</p> + +<p>"Then let us go and try our luck with this miserable sum."</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool, Jasper. What mad notion has taken you now?"</p> + +<p>"I have never gambled in my life," I answered, "and may as well have +a little excitement before the end comes. It's not much of a sum, as +you say; but the thought that we are playing for life or death may +make up for that. Let us start at once."</p> + +<p>"It is the maddest folly."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Tom, we will share this. There may be some little +difficulty over the halfpenny, but I don't mind throwing that in. +We will take half each, and you can hoard whilst I tempt fortune."</p> + +<p>"Jasper," said Tom, his eyes filling with tears, "you have said a +hard thing, but I know you don't mean it. If you are absolutely set +on this silly freak, we will stand or fall together."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said I, "we will stand or fall together, for I am +perfectly serious. The six and eightpence halfpenny, no more and no +less, I propose to spend in supper. After that we shall be better +prepared to face our chance. Do you agree?"</p> + +<p>"I agree," said Tom, sadly.</p> + +<p>We took our hats, extinguished the candle, and stumbled down the +stairs into the night.</p> + +<p>We ordered supper at an eating-house in the Strand, and in all my +life I cannot recall a merrier meal than this, which, for all we +knew, would be our last. The very thought lent a touch of bravado to +my humour, and presently Tom caught the infection. It was not a +sumptuous meal in itself, but princely to our ordinary fare; and the +unaccustomed taste of beer loosened our tongues, until our mirth +fairly astonished our fellow-diners. At length the waiter came with +the news that it was time for closing. Tom called for the bill, and +finding that it came to half-a-crown apiece, ordered two sixpenny +cigars, and tossed the odd eightpence halfpenny to the waiter, +announcing at the same time that this was our last meal on earth. +This done, he gravely handed me four half-crowns, and rose to leave. +I rose also, and once more we stepped into the night.</p> + +<p>Since the days of which I write, Leicester Square has greatly +changed. Then it was an intricate, and, by night, even a dangerous +quarter, chiefly given over to foreigners. As we trudged through +innumerable by-streets and squalid alleys, I wondered if Tom had +not forgotten his way. At length, however, we turned up a blind +alley, lit by one struggling gas-jet, and knocked at a low door. +It was opened almost immediately, and we groped our way up another +black passage to a second door. Here Tom gave three knocks very loud +and distinct. A voice cried, "Open," the door swung back before us, +and a blaze of light flashed in our faces.</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "13"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS OF THE LUCK OF THE GOLDEN CLASP.</h3> + +<p>As the door swung back I became conscious first of a flood of light +that completely dazzled my eyes, next of the buzz of many voices that +confused my hearing. By slow degrees, however, the noise and glare +grew familiar and my senses were able to take in the strange scene.</p> + +<p>I stood in a large room furnished after the fashion of a +drawing-room, and resplendent with candles and gilding. The carpet +was rich, the walls were hung with pictures, which if garish in +colour were not tasteless in design, and between these glittered a +quantity of gilded mirrors that caught and reflected the rays of a +huge candelabrum depending from the centre of the ceiling. +Innumerable wax candles also shone in various parts of the room, +while here and there rich chairs and sofas were disposed; but these +were for the most part unoccupied, for the guests were clustered +together beneath the great candelabrum.</p> + +<p>They were about thirty in number, and from their appearance I judged +them to belong to very different classes of society. Some were +poorly and even miserably attired, others adorned with gorgeous, and +not a few with valuable, jewellery. Here stood one who from his +clothes seemed to be a poor artisan; there lounged a fop in evening +dress. There was also a sprinkling of women, and not a few wore +masks of some black stuff concealing the upper part of their faces.</p> + +<p>But the strangest feature of the company was that one and all were +entirely and even breathlessly watching the table in their midst. +Even the idlest scarcely raised his eyes to greet us as we entered, +and for a moment or two I paused at the door as one who had no +business with this strange assemblage. During these few moments I +was able to grasp the main points of what I saw.</p> + +<p>The guests were grouped around the table, some sitting and others +standing behind their chairs. The table itself was oblong in shape, +and at its head sat the most extraordinary woman it had ever been my +lot to behold. She was of immense age, and so wrinkled that her face +seemed a very network of deeply-printed lines. Her complexion, even +in the candle-light, was of a deep yellow, such as is rarely seen in +the most jaundiced faces. Despite her age, her features were bold +and bore traces of a rare beauty outlived; her eyes were of a deep +yet glittering black, and as they flashed from the table to the faces +of her guests, seemed never to wink or change for an instant their +look of intense alertness.</p> + +<p>But what was most noteworthy in this strange woman was neither her +eyes, her wrinkles, nor her curious colour, but the amazing quantity +of jewels that she wore. As she sat there beneath the glare of the +candelabrum she positively blazed with gems. With every motion of +her quick hands a hundred points of fire leapt out from the diamonds +on her fingers; with every turn of her wrinkled neck the light played +upon innumerable facets; and all the time those cold, lustrous eyes +scintillated as brightly as the stones. She was engaged in the game +as we entered, and turned her gaze upon us for an instant only, but +that momentary flash was so cold, so absolutely un-human, that I +doubted if I looked upon reality. The whole assembly seemed rather +like a room full of condemned spirits, with this woman sitting as +presiding judge.</p> + +<p>As we still stood by the door a hush fell on the company; men and +women seemed to catch their breath and bend more intently over the +table. There was a pause; then someone called the number +"Thirty-one," and the buzz of voices broke out again—a mixture of +exclamations and disappointed murmurs. Then, and not till then, did +the woman at the head of the table speak, and when she spoke her +words were addressed to us.</p> + +<p>"Come in, gentlemen, come in. You have not chosen your moment well, +for the Bank is winning; but you are none the less welcome."</p> + +<p>Her eyes as she turned them again upon us did not alter their +expression. They were—though I can scarcely hope that this +description will be understood—at once perfectly vigilant and +absolutely impassive. But even more amazing was the voice that +contradicted both these impressions, being most sweetly and +delicately modulated, with a musical ring that charmed the ear as the +notes of a well-sung song. The others, hearing us addressed, turned +an incurious gaze upon us for a moment, and then fastened their +attention anew upon the table.</p> + +<p>Thus welcomed, we too stepped forward to the centre of the room and +began to watch the game. I have never seen roulette played +elsewhere, so do not know if its accessories greatly vary, but this +is what I saw.</p> + +<p>The table, which I have described as oblong, was lined to the width +of about a foot around the edge with green baize, and on this were +piled heaps of gold and silver, some greater, some less. Sunk in the +centre was a well, in which a large needle revolved upon a pivot at a +turn of the hand. The whole looked like a large ship's compass, but +instead of north, south, east, and west, the table around the well, +and at a level with the compass, was marked out into alternate spaces +of red and black, bearing—one on each space—the figures from 1 to +36, and ending in 0, so that in all there were thirty-seven spaces, +the one bearing the cipher being opposite to the strange woman who +presided. As the game began again the players staked their money on +one or another of these spaces. I also gathered that they could +stake on either black or red, or again on one of the three dozens— +1 to 12, 13 to 24, 25 to 36. When all the money was staked, the +woman bent forward, and with a sweep of her arm sent the needle +spinning round upon its mission.</p> + +<p>Thrice she did this, thrice the eager faces bent over the revolving +needle, and each time I gathered from the murmurs around me that the +bank had won heavily. At the end of the third round the hostess +looked up and said to Loveday—</p> + +<p>"You have been here before, and, if I remember rightly, were +unfortunate. Come and sit near me when you have a chance, and +perhaps you may break this run of luck. Even I am tiring of it. +Or better still, get that dark handsome friend of yours to stake for +you. Have you ever played before?" she asked, turning to me.</p> + +<p>I shook my head.</p> + +<p>"All the better. Fortune always favours beginners, and if it does I +shall be well recompensed to have so handsome a youth beside me," and +with this she turned to the game again.</p> + +<p>At her right sat a grey-headed man with worn face and wolfish eyes, +who might have been expected to take this as a hint to make way. +But he never heard a word. All his sense was concentrated on the +board before him, and his only motion was to bend more closely and +eagerly over the play. Tom whispered in my ear—</p> + +<p>"You have the money, Jasper; take her advice if you really mean to +play this farce out. Take the seat if you get a chance, and play +your own game."</p> + +<p>"You have been here before," I answered, "and know more about the +game."</p> + +<p>"Here before! Yes, to my cost. No, no, the idea of play is your own +and you shall carry it out. I am always unlucky, and as for +knowledge of the game, you can pick that up by watching a round or +two; it's perfectly simple."</p> + +<p>Again the bank had won. At the left hand of our hostess stood a +stolid man holding a small shovel with which he gathered in the +winnings. All around were faces as of souls in torture; even the +features of the winners (and these were few enough) scarcely +expressed a trace of satisfaction, but seemed rather cast into some +horrible trance in which they saw nothing but the piles of coin, the +spinning needle, and the flashing hands of the woman that turned it. +She all the while sat passionless and cold, looking on the scene as +might some glittering and bejewelled sphinx.</p> + +<p>As I gazed, as the needle whirled and stopped and once more whirled, +the mad excitement of the place came creeping upon me. The +glittering fingers of our hostess fascinated me as a serpent holds +its prey. The stifling heat, the glare, the confused murmurs mounted +like strong wine into my brain. The clink and gleam of the gold as +it passed to and fro, the harsh voice of the man with the shovel +calling at intervals, "Put on your money, gentlemen," the mechanical +progress of the play, confused and staggered my senses. I forgot +Tom, forgot the reason of our coming, forgot even where I was, so +absorbed was I, and craned forward over the hurrying wheel, as intent +as the veriest gambler present.</p> + +<p>I was aroused from my stupor by a muttered curse, as the grey-headed +man before me staggered up from his chair, and left the table with +desperate eyes and stupid gait. As he rose the jewelled fingers made +a slight motion, and I dropped into the vacant seat.</p> + +<p>The bank was still winning. At our hostess' left hand rose a +swelling pile of gold and silver that time after time absorbed all +the smaller heaps upon the black and red spaces. Meanwhile the woman +had scarcely spoken, but as the needle went round once more, +slackened and stopped—this time amid deep and desperate +execrations—she turned to me and said—</p> + +<p>"Now is your time to break the bank if you wish. Play boldly; I +should like to lose to so proper a man."</p> + +<p>I looked back at Tom, who merely nodded, and put my first half-crown +upon the red space marked 19. My neighbour, without seeming to +notice the smallness of the sum, bent over the table and sent the +wheel spinning on its errand. I, too, bent forward to watch, and as +the wheel halted, saw the coin swept, with many more valuable, into +the great pile.</p> + +<p>"A bad beginning," said the sweet voice beside me. "Try again."</p> + +<p>I tried again, and a third time, and two more half-crowns went to +join their fellow.</p> + +<p>There was one more chance. White with desperation I drew out my last +half-crown, and laid it on the black. A flash, and my neighbour's +hand sent the needle whirling. Round and round it went, as though it +would never cease; round and round, then slackened, slackened, +hesitated and stopped—where?</p> + +<p>Where but over the red square opposite me?</p> + +<p>For a moment all things seemed to whirl and dance before me. +The candles shot out a million glancing rays, the table heaved, the +rings upon the woman's fingers glittered and sparkled, while opposite +me the devilish finger of Fortune pointed at the ruin of my hopes, +and as it pointed past them and at me, called me very fool.</p> + +<p>I clutched the table's green border and sank back in my seat. +As I did so I heard a low curse from Tom behind me. The overwhelming +truth broke in upon my senses, chasing the blood from my face, the +hope from my heart. Ruined! Ruined! The faces around me grew +blurred and misty, the room and all my surrounding seemed to fade +further and yet further away, leaving me face to face with the +consequences of my folly. Scarce knowing what I did, I turned to +look at Tom, and saw that his face was white and set. As I did so +the musical voice beside me murmured—</p> + +<p>"The game is waiting: are you going to stake this time?"</p> + +<p>I stammered out a negative.</p> + +<p>"What? already tired? A faint heart should not go with such a face," +and again she swept the pointer round.</p> + +<p>"Is it," she whispered in my ear, "is it that you cannot?"</p> + +<p>"It is."</p> + +<p>"Ah, it is hard with half-a-sovereign to break the bank. But see, +have you nothing—nothing? For I feel as if my luck were going to +leave me."</p> + +<p>"Nothing," I answered, "nothing in the world."</p> + +<p>"Poor boy!"</p> + +<p>Her voice was tender and sympathetic, but in her eyes there glanced +not the faintest spark of mercy. I sat for a moment stunned and +helpless, and then she resumed.</p> + +<p>"Can I lend to you?"</p> + +<p>"No, for I have no chance of repaying. This was my all, and it has +gone. I have not one penny left in the world."</p> + +<p>"Poor boy!"</p> + +<p>"I thank you. I could not expect you to pity me, but—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, but you are wrong. I pity you: I pity you all. Fools, fools, I +call you all, and yet I make my living out of you. So you cannot +play," she added, as she set the game going once again. "What will +you do?"</p> + +<p>"Go, first of all."</p> + +<p>"And after?"</p> + +<p>I shrugged my shoulders.</p> + +<p>"No, do not go yet. Sit beside me for a while and watch: it is only +Fortune that makes me your enemy. I would willingly have lost to +you."</p> + +<p>She looked so curious, sitting there with her yellow face, her +wrinkles and her innumerable diamonds, that I could only sit and +stare.</p> + +<p>"I have seen many a desperate boy," continued this extraordinary +woman, "sitting beside me in that very chair. Ah, many a young life +have I murdered in this way. I am old, you see, very old; older even +than you could guess, but I triumph over youth none the less. +Sometimes I feel as if I fed on the young lives of others."</p> + +<p>She delivered these confidences without a change in her emotionless +face, and still I stared fascinated.</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, they sit here for a moment, and then they go—who knows +where? You will be going presently, and then I shall lose you for +ever, without a thought of what happens to you. Money is my blood: +you see its colour in my face. Here they all come, and I suck their +blood and fling them aside. They win sometimes; but I can wait. +I wait and wait, and they come back here as surely as there is a +destiny. They come back, and I win in the end. I always win in the +end."</p> + +<p>She turned her attention to the game for a moment and then went on:—</p> + +<p>"It is a rare drink, this yellow blood: and all the sweeter when it +comes from youth. I have had but a drop from you, but I like you +nevertheless. Oh, yes, I can pity, my heart is always full of pity +as I sit here drinking gold. Your friend is a charming boy, but I +like you better: and now you will go. These partings are very cruel, +are they not?"</p> + +<p>There was not a trace of mockery in her voice, and her eyes were the +same as ever. I merely looked up in reply, but she divined my +thoughts.</p> + +<p>"No, I am not mocking you. I should like you to win—once: I say it, +and am perfectly honest about it. You would be beaten in the end, +but it would please me while it lasted. Has your friend no money?"</p> + +<p>"No, this was all we had between us."</p> + +<p>"So he came back and got you to play with your money. That was +strange friendship."</p> + +<p>"You are wrong," I answered, "he was set against coming; but I +persuaded him—or rather, I insisted. It is all my own fault."</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, musingly, "I suppose you must, go; but it is a +pity. You are too handsome a boy to—to do what you will probably +do: but the game does not regard good looks, or it would fare badly +with me. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>Still there was no shadow of pity in those unfathomable eyes. +I looked into them for a moment, but their shining jet revealed +nothing below the surface—nothing but inexorable calm.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye," I said, and rose to go, for Tom's hand was already on my +shoulder. I dared not look in his face. All hope was gone now, all +wealth, all—Stay! I put my fingers in my waistcoat-pocket and drew +out the Golden Clasp. Worthless to me as any sign of the +hiding-place of the Great Ruby, it might yet be worth something as +metal. I had carried it ever since the day when Uncle Loveday and I +read my father's Journal. But what did it matter now? In a few +hours I should be beyond the hope of treasure. Might I not just as +well fling this accursed clasp after the rest? For aught I knew it +might yet win something back to me—that is, if anyone would accept +it as money. At least I would try.</p> + +<p>I sank back into my chair again. The woman turned her eyes upon me +carelessly, and said—</p> + +<p>"What, back again so soon?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said I, somewhat taken aback by her coldness, "if you will +give me another chance."</p> + +<p>"I give nothing, least of all chance," she replied.</p> + +<p>"Well, can you tell me if this is worth anything?"</p> + +<p>As I said this I held out the clasp, which flashed brightly as it +caught the rays of the large candelabrum overhead. She turned her +eyes upon it, and as she did so, for the first time I fancied I +caught a gleam of interest within them. It was but a gleam, however, +and died out instantly as she said—</p> + +<p>"Let me look at it."</p> + +<p>I handed it to her. She bent over it for a moment, then turned to me +and asked—</p> + +<p>"Is this all of it? I mean that it seems only one half of a clasp. +Have you not the other part?"</p> + +<p>I shook my head, and she continued—</p> + +<p>"It is beautifully worked, and seems valuable. Do you wish me to buy +it?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly that," I explained; "but if you think it worth anything +I should like to stake it against an equivalent."</p> + +<p>"Very well; it might be worth three pounds—perhaps more: but you can +stake it for that if you will. Shall it be all at once?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, let me have it over at once," I said, and placed it on the red +square marked 13.</p> + +<p>She nodded, and bending over the table, set the pointer on its round.</p> + +<p>This time I felt quite calm and cool. All the intoxication of play +had gone from me and left my nerves steady as iron. As the needle +swung round I scarcely looked at it, but fell to watching the faces +of my fellow-gamblers with idle interest. This stake would decide +between life and death for me, but I did not feel it. My passion had +fallen upon an anti-climax, and I was even yawning when the murmur of +many voices, and a small pile of gold and silver at my side, +announced that I had won.</p> + +<p>"So the luck was changed at last," said the woman. "Be brave whilst +it is with you."</p> + +<p>In answer I again placed the clasp upon the number 13.</p> + +<p>Once more I won, and this time heavily. Tom laid his hand upon my +shoulder and said, "Let us go," but I shook my head and went on.</p> + +<p>Time after time I won now, until the pile beside me became immense. +Again and again Tom whispered in my ear that we had won enough and +that luck would change shortly, but I held on. And now the others +surrounded me in a small crowd and began to stake on the numbers I +chose. Put the clasp where I would the needle stopped in front of +it. They brought a magnet to see if this curious piece of metal had +any power of attraction, but our hostess only laughed and assured +them at any rate there was no steel in the pointer, as (she added) +some of them ought to know by this time. When eight times I had put +the buckle down and eight times had found a fresh heap of coin at my +side, she turned to me and said—</p> + +<p>"You play bravely, young man. What is your name?"</p> + +<p>"Jasper Trenoweth."</p> + +<p>Again I fancied I caught the gleam in her eyes; and this time it +even seemed as though her teeth shut tight as she heard the words. +But she simply laughed a tranquil laugh and said—</p> + +<p>"A queer-sounding name, that Trenoweth. Is it a lucky one?"</p> + +<p>"Never, until now," said I.</p> + +<p>"Well, play on. It does my heart good, this fight between us. +But you are careful, I see; why don't you stake your pile as well +while this wonderful run lasts?"</p> + +<p>Again Tom's hand was laid upon my shoulder, and this time his voice +was urgent. But I was completely deaf.</p> + +<p>"As you please," said I, coldly, and laid the whole pile down upon +the black.</p> + +<p>It was madness. It was worse than madness. But I won again; and now +the heap of my winnings was enormous. I glanced at the strange +woman; she sat as impassive as ever.</p> + +<p>"Play," said she.</p> + +<p>Thrice more I won, and now the pile beside her had to be replenished. +Yet she moved not a muscle of her face, not a lash of her mysterious +eyes.</p> + +<p>At last, sick of success, I turned and said—</p> + +<p>"I have had enough of this. Will it satisfy you if I stake it all +once more?"</p> + +<p>Again she laughed. "You are brave, Mr. Trenoweth, and indeed worth +the fighting. You may win to-night, but I shall win in the end. +I told you that I would readily lose to you, and so I will; but you +take me at my word with a vengeance. Still, I should like to possess +that clasp of yours, so let it be once more."</p> + +<p>I laid the whole of my winnings on the red. By this time all the +guests had gathered round to see the issue of this conflict. Not a +soul put any money on this turn of the wheel, so engrossed were they +in the duel. Every face was white with excitement, every lip +quivered. Only we, the combatants, sat unmoved—I and the strange +woman with the unfathomable eyes.</p> + +<p>"Red stands for many things," said she, as she lightly twirled the +needle round, "blood and rubies and lovers' lips. But black is the +livery of Death, and Death shall win them all in the end."</p> + +<p>As the pointer of fortune circled on its last errand, I could catch +the stifled breath of the crowd about me, so deep was the hush that +fell upon us all. I felt Tom's hand tighten its clutch upon my +shoulder. I heard, or fancied I heard, the heart of the man upon my +right thump against his ribs. I could feel my own pulse beating all +the while with steady and regular stroke. Somehow I knew that I +should win, and somehow it flashed upon me that she knew it too. +Even as the idea came darting across my brain, a multitude of pent-up +cries broke forth from thirty pairs of white lips. I scarcely looked +to see the cause, but as I turned to our hostess her eyes looked +straight into mine and her sweet voice rose above the din—</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen, we have played enough to-night. The game is over."</p> + +<p>I had broken the bank.</p> + +<p> +I stood with Tom gathering up my winnings as the crowd slowly melted +from the room, and as I did so, cast a glance at the woman whom I had +thus defeated. She was leaning back in her chair, apparently +indifferent to her losses as to her gains. Only her eyes were +steadily fixed upon me as I shovelled the coin into my pockets. +As she caught my eye she pulled out a scrap of paper and a pencil, +scribbled a few words, tossed the note to the man with the shovel, +who instantly left the room, and said—</p> + +<p>"Is it far from this place to your home?"</p> + +<p>"Not very."</p> + +<p>"That's well; but be careful. To win such a sum is only less +dangerous than to lose it. I shall see you again—you and your +talisman. By the way, may I look at it for a moment?"</p> + +<p>We were alone in the room, we three. She took the clasp, looked at +it intently for a full minute, and then returned it. Already the +dawn of another day was peering in through the chinks in the blinds, +giving a ghastly faintness to the expiring candles, throwing a grey +and sickening reality over the scene—the disordered chairs, the +floor strewn with scraps of paper, the signs and relics of the +debauchery of play. Ghastlier than all was the yellow face of the +woman in the pitiless light. But there she sat, seemingly untired, +in all the splendour of her flashing gems, as we left her—a very +goddess of the gaming-table.</p> + +<p>We had reached the door and were stepping into the darkness of the +outer passage, when Tom whispered—</p> + +<p>"Be on your guard; that note meant mischief."</p> + +<p>I nodded, swung open the door, and stepped out into the darkness. +Even as I did so, I heard one quick step at my left side, saw a faint +gleam, and felt myself violently struck upon the chest. For a moment +I staggered back, and then heard Tom rush past me and deal one +crashing blow.</p> + +<p>"Run, run! Down the passage, quick!"</p> + +<p>In an instant we were tearing through the black darkness to the outer +door, but in that instant I could see, through the open door behind, +in the glare of all the candles, the figure of the yellow woman still +sitting motionless and calm.</p> + +<p>We gained the door, and plunged into the bright daylight. Up the +alley we tore, out into the street, across it and down another, then +through a perfect maze of by-lanes. Tom led and I followed behind, +panting and clutching my bursting pockets lest the coin should tumble +out. Still we tore on, although not a footstep followed us, nor had +we seen a soul since Tom struck my assailant down. Spent and +breathless at last we emerged upon the Strand, and here Tom pulled +up.</p> + +<p>"The streets are wonderfully quiet," said he.</p> + +<p>I thought for a moment and then said, "It is Sunday morning."</p> + +<p>Scarcely were the words out of my mouth when I heard something ring +upon the pavement beside me. I stooped, and picked up—the Golden +Clasp.</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "this is strange."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," said Tom. "Look at your breast-pocket."</p> + +<p>I looked and saw a short slit across my breast just above the heart. +As I put my hand up, a sovereign, and then another, rolled clinking +on to the pavement.</p> + +<p>Tom picked them up, and handing them to me, remarked—</p> + +<p>"Jasper, you may thank Heaven to-day, if you are in a mood for it. +You have had a narrow escape."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, that you would be a dead man now had you not carried that piece +of metal in your breast-pocket. Let me see it for a moment."</p> + +<p>We looked at it together, and there surely enough, almost in the +centre of the clasp, was a deep dent. We were silent for a minute or +so, and then Tom said—</p> + +<p>"Let us get home. It would not do for us to be seen with this money +about us."</p> + +<p>We crossed the Strand, and turned off it to the door of our lodgings. +There I stopped.</p> + +<p>"Tom, I am not coming in. I shall take a long walk and a bathe to +get this fearful night out of my head. You can take the money +upstairs, and put it away somewhere in hiding. Stay, I will keep a +coin or two. Take the rest with you."</p> + +<p>Tom looked up at the gleam of sunshine that touched the chimney-pots +above, and decided.</p> + +<p>"Well, for my part, I am going to bed; and so will you if you are +wise."</p> + +<p>"No. I will be back this evening, so let the fatted calf be +prepared. I must get out of this for a while."</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, anywhere. I don't care. Up the river, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"You don't wish me to go with you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I had rather be alone. Tom, I have been a fool. I led you into +a hole whence nothing but a marvellous chance has delivered us, and I +owe you an apology. And—Tom, I also owe you my life."</p> + +<p>"Not to me, Jasper; to the Clasp."</p> + +<p>"To you," I insisted. "Tom, I have been a thoughtless fool, and— +Tom, that was a splendid blow of yours."</p> + +<p>He laughed, and ran upstairs, while I turned and gloomily sauntered +down the deserted street.</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "14"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS AN OLD STORY IN THE TRADITIONAL MANNER.</h3><br> + +<p>When Tom asked me where I was going, I had suggested an excursion up +the river; though, to tell the truth, this answer had come with the +question. Be that as it may, the afternoon of that same Sunday found +me on the left bank of the Thames between Streatley and Pangbourne; +found me, with my boat moored idly by, stretched on my back amid the +undergrowth, and easefully staring upward through a trellis-work of +branches into the heavens. I had been lying there a full hour +wondering vaguely of my last night's adventure, listening to the +spring-time chorus of the birds, lazily and listlessly watching a +bough that bent and waved its fan of foliage across my face, or the +twinkle of the tireless kingfisher flashing down-stream in loops of +light, when a blackbird lit on a branch hard by my left hand, and, +all unconscious of an audience, began to pour forth his rapture to +the day.</p> + +<p>Lying there I could spy his black body and yellow bill, and drink in +his song with dreamy content. So sweetly and delicately was he +fluting, that by degrees slumber crept gently and unperceived upon my +tired brain; and as the health-giving distillation of the melody +stole upon my parched senses, I fell into a deep sleep.</p> + +<p> +What was that? Music? Yes, but not the song of my friend the +black-bird, not the mellow note that had wooed me to slumber and +haunted my dreams. Music? Yes, but the voice was human, and the +song articulate. I started, and rose upon my elbow to listen. +The voice was human beyond a doubt—sweetly human: it was that of a +girl singing. But where? I looked around and saw nobody. Yet the +singer could not be far off, for the words, though softly and gently +sung, dwelt clearly and distinctly upon my ear. Still half asleep, I +sank back again and listened.</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"Flower of the May,<br> +<span class="ind2">Saw ye one pass?</span><br> + 'Love passed to-day<br> +<span class="ind2">While the dawn was,</span><br> +<span class="ind2">O, but the eyes of him shone as a glass.'"</span></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>The low, delicate notes came tremulous through the thicket. +The blackbird was hushed, the trees overhead swayed soundlessly, and +when the voice fell and paused, so deep was the silence that +involuntarily I held my breath and waited. Presently it broke out +again—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"Bird of the thorn,<br> +<span class="ind2">What his attire?</span><br> + 'Lo! it was torn,<br> +<span class="ind2">Marred with the mire,</span><br> +<span class="ind2">And but the eyes of him sparkled with fire.'"</span><br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>Again the voice died away in soft cadences, and again all was +silence. I rose once more upon my elbow, and gazed into the green +depths of the wood; but saw only the blackbird perched upon a twig +and listening with head askew.</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class ="noindent">"Flower of the May,<br> +<span class="ind2">Bird of the—"</span><br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + + +<p>The voice quivered, trailed off and stopped. I heard a rustling of +leaves to the right, and then the same voice broke out in prose, in +very agitated and piteous prose—"Oh, my boat! my boat! What shall I +do?"</p> + +<p>I jumped to my feet, caught a glimpse of something white, and of +two startled but appealing eyes, then tore down to the bank. +There, already twenty yards downstream, placidly floated the boat, +its painter trailing from the bows, and its whole behaviour pointing +to a leisurely but firm resolve to visit Pangbourne.</p> + +<p>My own boat was close at hand. But when did hot youth behave with +thought in a like case? I did as ninety-nine in a hundred would do. +I took off my coat, kicked off my shoes, and as the voice cried, +"Oh, please, do not trouble," plunged into the water. The refractory +boat, once on its way, was in no great hurry, and allowed itself to +be overtaken with great good-humour. I clambered in over the stern, +caught up the sculls which lay across the thwarts, and, dripping but +triumphant, brought my captive back to shore.</p> + +<p>"How can I thank you?"</p> + +<p>If my face was red as I looked up, it must be remembered that I had +to stoop to make the boat fast. If my eyes had a tendency to look +down again, it must be borne in mind that the water from my hair was +dripping into them. They gazed for a moment, however, and this was +what they saw:—</p> + +<p>At first only another pair of eyes, of dark grey eyes twinkling with +a touch of merriment, though full at the same time of honest +gratitude. It was some time before I clearly understood that these +eyes belonged to a face, and that face the fairest that ever looked +on a summer day. First, as my gaze dropped before that vision of +radiant beauty, it saw only an exquisite figure draped in a dress of +some white and filmy stuff, and swathed around the shoulders with a +downy shawl, white also, across which fell one ravishing lock of +waving brown, shining golden in the kiss of the now drooping sun. +Then the gaze fell lower, lighted upon a little foot thrust slightly +forward for steadiness on the bank's verge, and there rested.</p> + +<p>So we stood facing one another—Hero and Leander, save that Leander +found the effects of his bath more discomposing than the poets give +any hint of. So we stood, she smiling and I dripping, while the +blackbird, robbed of the song's ending, took up his own tale anew, +and, being now on his mettle, tried a few variations. So, for all +power I had of speech, might we have stood until to-day had not the +voice repeated—</p> + +<p>"How can I thank you?"</p> + +<p>I looked up. Yes, she was beautiful, past all criticism—not tall, +but in pose and figure queenly beyond words. Under the brim of her +straw hat the waving hair fell loosely, but not so loosely as to hide +the broad brow arching over lashes of deepest brown. Into the eyes I +dared not look again, but the lips were full and curling with humour, +the chin delicately poised over the most perfect of necks. In her +right hand she held a carelessly-plucked creeper that strayed down +the white of her dress and drooped over the high firm instep. And so +my gaze dropped to earth again. Pity me. I had scarcely spoken to +woman before, never to beauty. Tongue-tied and dripping I stood +there, yet was half inclined to run away.</p> + +<p>"And yet, why did you make yourself so wet? Have you no boat? +Is not that your boat lying there under the bank?" There was an +amused tremor in the speech.</p> + +<p>Somehow I felt absurdly guilty. She must have mistaken my glance, +for she went on:—"Is it that you wish—?" and began to search in the +pocket of her gown.</p> + +<p>"No, no," I cried, "not that."</p> + +<p>I had forgotten the raggedness of my clothes, now hideously +emphasised by my bath. Of course she took me for a beggar. Why not? +I looked like one. But as the thought flashed upon me it brought +unutterable humiliation. She must have divined something of the +agony in my eyes, for a tiny hand was suddenly laid on my arm and the +voice said—</p> + +<p>"Please, forgive me; I was stupid, and am so sorry."</p> + +<p>Forgive her? I looked up for an instant and now her lids drooped in +their turn. There was a silence between us for a moment or two, +broken only by the blackbird, by this time entangled in a maze of +difficult variations. Presently she glanced up again, and the grey +eyes were now chastely merry.</p> + +<p>"But it was odd to swim when your boat was close at hand, was it +not?"</p> + +<p>I looked, faltered, met her honest glance, and we both broke out into +shy laughter. A mad desire to seize the little hand that for a +moment had rested on my arm caught hold of me.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was odd," I answered slowly and with difficulty; "but it +seemed—the only thing to do at the time."</p> + +<p>She laughed a low laugh again.</p> + +<p>"Do you generally behave like that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>There was a pause and then I added—</p> + +<p>"You see, you took me by surprise."</p> + +<p>"Where were you when I first called?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Lying in the grass close by."</p> + +<p>"Then"—with a vivid blush—"you must have—"</p> + +<p>"Heard you singing? Yes."</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>Again there was a pause, and this time the blackbird executed an +elaborate exercise with much delicacy and finish. The brown lashes +drooped, the lovely eyes were bent on the grass, and the little hand +swung the creeper nervously backward and forward.</p> + +<p>"Why did you not warn me that I had an audience?"</p> + +<p>"Because, in the first place, I was too late. When you began I +was—"</p> + +<p>"What?" she asked as I hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Asleep."</p> + +<p>"And I disturbed you. I am so sorry."</p> + +<p>"I am not."</p> + +<p>I was growing bolder as she became more embarrassed. I looked down +upon her now from my superior height, and my heart went out to +worship the grace of God's handiwork. With a touch of resentment she +drew herself up, held out her hand, and said somewhat proudly—</p> + +<p>"I thank you, sir, for this service."</p> + +<p>I took the hand, but not the hint. It was an infinitesimal hand as +it lay in my big brown one, and yet it stung my frame as with some +delicious and electric shock. My heart beat wildly and my eyes +remained fixed upon hers.</p> + +<p>The colour on the fair face deepened a shade: the little chin was +raised a full inch, and the voice became perceptibly icy.</p> + +<p>"I must go, sir. I hope I have thanked you as far as I can, and—"</p> + +<p>"And what?"</p> + +<p>"Forgive me that I was about to offer you money."</p> + +<p>The hat's brim bent now, but under it I could see the honest eyes +full of pain.</p> + +<p>"Forgive you!" I cried. "Who am I to forgive you? You were right: +I am no better than a beggar."</p> + +<p>The red lips quivered and broke into a smile; a tiny dimple appeared, +vanished and reappeared; the hat's brim nodded again, and then the +eyes sparkled into laughter—</p> + +<p>"A sturdy beggar, at any rate."</p> + +<p>It was the poorest little joke, but love is not exacting of wit. +Again we both laughed, but this time with more relief, and yet the +embarrassment that followed was greater.</p> + +<p>"Must you go?" I asked as I bent down to pull the boat in.</p> + +<p>"I really must," she answered shyly; and then as she pulled out a +tiny watch at her waist—"Oh! I am late—so late. I shall keep +mother waiting and make her lose the train. What shall I do? +Oh, pray, sir, be quick!"</p> + +<p>A mad hope coursed through me; I pointed to the boat and said—</p> + +<p>"I have made it so wet. If you are late, better let me row you. +Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"To Streatley; but I cannot—"</p> + +<p>"I also am going to Streatley. Please let me row you: I will not +speak if you wish it."</p> + +<p>Over her face, now so beautifully agitated, swept the rarest of +blushes. "Oh no, it is not that, but I can manage quite well"—her +manner gave the lie to her brave words—"and I shall not mind the +wet."</p> + +<p>"If I have not offended you, let me row."</p> + +<p>"No, no."</p> + +<p>"Then I have offended."</p> + +<p>"Please do not think so."</p> + +<p>"I shall if you will not let me row."</p> + +<p>Before my persistency she wavered and was conquered. "But my boat?" +she said.</p> + +<p>"I will tow it behind"—and in the glad success of my hopes I allowed +her no time for further parley, but ran off for my own boat, tied the +two together, and gently helped her to her seat. Was ever moment so +sweet? Did ever little palm rest in more eager hand than hers in +mine during that one heavenly moment? Did ever heart beat so +tumultuously as mine, as I pushed the boat from under the boughs and +began to row?</p> + +<p>Somehow, as we floated up the still river, a hush fell upon us. +She was idly trailing her hand in the stream and watching the ripple +as it broke and sparkled through her fingers. Her long lashes +drooped down upon her cheek and veiled her eyes, whilst I sat +drinking in her beauty and afraid by a word to break the spell.</p> + +<p>Presently she glanced up, met my burning eyes, and looked down +abashed.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, I could not help it."</p> + +<p>She tried to meet the meaning of that sentence with a steady look, +but broke down, and as the warm blood surged across her face, bent +her eyes to the water again. For myself, I knew of nothing to say in +extenuation of my speech. My lips would have cried her mercy, but no +words came. I fell to rowing harder, and the silence that fell upon +us was unbroken. The sun sank and suddenly the earth grew cold and +grey, the piping of the birds died wholly out, the water-flags +shivered and whispered before the footsteps of night. Slowly, very +slowly the twilight hung its curtains around us. Swiftly, too +swiftly the quiet village drew near, but my thoughts were neither of +the village nor the night. As I sat and pulled silently upwards, +life was entirely changing for me. Old thoughts, old passions, old +aims and musings slipped from me and swept off my soul as the +darkening river swept down into further night.</p> + +<p>"Streatley! So soon! We are in time, then."</p> + +<p>Humbly my heart thanked her for those words, "So soon." I gave her +my hand to help her ashore, and, as I did so, said—</p> + +<p>"You will forgive me?"</p> + +<p>"For getting wet in my service? What is there to forgive?"</p> + +<p>Oh, cruelly kind! The moon was up now and threw its full radiance on +her face as she turned to go. My eyes were speaking imploringly, but +she persisted in ignoring their appeal.</p> + +<p>"You often come here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! Sunday is my holiday; I am not so idle always. But mother +loves to come here on Sundays. Ah, how I have neglected her to-day!" +There was a world of self-reproach in her speech, and again she would +have withdrawn her hand and gone.</p> + +<p>"One moment," said I, hoarsely. "Will you—can you—tell me your +name?"</p> + +<p>There was a demure smile on her face as the moon kissed it, and—</p> + +<p>"They call me Claire," she said.</p> + +<p>"Claire," I murmured, half to myself.</p> + +<p>"And yours?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Jasper—Jasper Trenoweth."</p> + +<p>"Then good-bye, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth. Goodbye, and once more I thank +you."</p> + +<p>She was gone; and standing stupid and alone I watched her graceful +figure fade into the shadow and take with it the light and joy of my +life.</p> + +<p> +"Jasper," said Tom, as I lounged into our wretched garret, "have you +ever known what it is to suffer from the responsibility of wealth? +I do not mean a few paltry sovereigns; but do you know what it is to +live with, say, three thousand four hundred and sixty-five pounds +thirteen and sixpence on your conscience?"</p> + +<p>"No," I said; "I cannot say that I have. But why that extraordinary +sum?"</p> + +<p>"Because that is the sum which has been hanging all day around me as +a mill-stone. Because that is the exact amount which at present +makes me fear to look my fellow-man in the face."</p> + +<p>I simply stared.</p> + +<p>"Jasper, you are singularly dense, or much success has turned your +brain. Say, Jasper, that success has not turned your brain."</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of," I replied.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," said Tom, stepping to the bed and pulling back the +counterpane with much mystery. "Oblige me by counting this sum, +first the notes, then the gold, and finally the silver. Or, if that +is too much trouble, reflect that on this modest couch recline +bank-notes for three thousand one hundred and twenty pounds, gold +sovereigns to the number of three hundred and forty-two, whence by an +easy subtraction sum we obtain a remainder of silver, in value three +pounds thirteen and sixpence."</p> + +<p>"But, Tom, surely we never won all that?"</p> + +<p>"We did though, and may for the rest of our days settle down as +comparatively honest medical students. So that I propose we have +supper, and drink—for I have provided drink—to the Luck of the +Golden Clasp."</p> + +<p>Stunned with the events of the last twenty-four hours, I sat down to +table, but could scarcely touch my food. Tom's tongue went +ceaselessly, now apologising for the fare, now entertaining imaginary +guests, and always addressing me as a man of great wealth and +property.</p> + +<p>"Jasper," he remarked at length, "either you are ill, or you must +have been eating to excess all day."</p> + +<p>"Neither."</p> + +<p>"Do I gather that you wish to leave the table, and pursue your mortal +foe up and down Oxford Street?"</p> + +<p>I shook my head.</p> + +<p>"What! no revenge to-night? No thirst for blood?"</p> + +<p>"Tom," I replied, solemnly, "neither to-night nor any other night. +My revenge is dead."</p> + +<p>"Dear me! when did it take place? It must have been very sudden."</p> + +<p>"It died to-day."</p> + +<p>"Jasper," said Tom, laying his hand on my shoulder, "either wealth +has turned your brain, or most remarkably given you sanity."</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "15"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS HOW I SAW THE SHADOW OF THE ROCK;<br> AND HOW I TOLD AND HEARD +NEWS.</h3><br> + +<p>A week passed, and in the interval Tom and I made several +discoveries. In the first place, to our great relief, we discovered +that the bank-notes were received in Threadneedle Street without +question or demur. Secondly, we found our present lodgings narrow, +and therefore moved westward to St. James's. Further, it struck us +that our clothes would have to conform to the "demands of more +Occidental civilisation," as Tom put it, and also that unless we +intended to be medical students for ever it was necessary to become +medical men. Lastly, it began to dawn upon Tom that "Francesca: a +Tragedy" was a somewhat turgid performance, and on me that a holiday +on Sunday was demanded by six days of work.</p> + +<p>I do not know that we displayed any remarkable interest in the +<i>Materia Medica</i>, or that the authorities of Guy's looked upon us as +likely to do them any singular credit. But Tom, who had now a +writing-desk, made great alterations in "Francesca," while I consumed +vast quantities of tobacco in the endeavour to reproduce a certain +face in my note-book; and I am certain that the resolution to take a +holiday on Sunday was as strong at the end of the first week as +though I had wrought my faculties to the verge of brain fever.</p> + +<p>I did not see her on that Sunday, or the next, though twice my boat +explored the river between Goring and Pangbourne from early morning +until nightfall. But let me hasten over heart-aching and bitterness, +and come to the blessed Sunday when for a second time I saw my love.</p> + +<p>Again the day was radiant with summer. Above, the vaulted blue +arched to a capstone of noonday gold. Hardly a fleecy cloud troubled +the height of heaven, or blotted the stream's clear mirror; save here +and there where the warm air danced and quivered over the still +meadows, the season's colour lay equal upon earth. Before me the +river wound silently into the sunny solitude of space untroubled by +sight of human form.</p> + +<p>But what was that speck of white far down the bank—that brighter +spot upon the universal brightness, moving, advancing? My heart gave +one great leap; in a moment my boat's bows were high upon the +crumbling bank, and I was gazing down the tow-path.</p> + +<p>Yes, it was she! From a thousand thousand I could tell that +perfect form as it loitered—how slowly—up the river's verge. +Along heaven's boundary the day was lit with glory for me, and all +the glory but a golden frame for that white speck so carelessly +approaching. Still and mute I stood as it drew nearer—so still, so +mute, that a lazy pike thrust out its wolfish jaws just under my feet +and, seeing me, splashed under again in great discomposure; so +motionless that a blundering swallow all but darted against me, then +swept curving to the water, and vanished down the stream.</p> + +<p>She had been gathering May-blossom, and held a cluster in one hand. +As before, her gown was purest white, and, as before, a nodding hat +guarded her fair face jealously.</p> + +<p>Nearer and nearer she came, glanced carelessly at me who stood +bare-headed in the sun's glare, was passing, and glanced again, +hesitated for one agonising moment, and then, as our eyes met, shot +out a kindly flash of remembrance, followed by the sweetest of little +blushes.</p> + +<p>"So you are here again," she said, as she gave her hand, and her +voice made exquisite music in my ear.</p> + +<p>"Again?" I said, slowly releasing her fingers as a miser might part +with treasure. "Again? I have been here every Sunday since."</p> + +<p>"Dear me! is it so long ago? Only three weeks after all. +I remember, because—"</p> + +<p>The fleeting hope possessed me that it might be some recollection in +which I had place, but my illusion was swiftly shattered.</p> + +<p>"Because," the pitiless sentence continued, "mother was not well that +evening; in fact, she has been ill ever since. So it is only three +weeks."</p> + +<p>"Only three weeks!" I echoed.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she nodded. "I have not seen the river for all that time. +Is it changed?"</p> + +<p>"Sadly changed."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I have changed."</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope so," she laughed, "after that wetting;" then, seeing an +indignant flash in my eyes, she added quickly, "which you got by so +kindly bringing back my boat."</p> + +<p>"You have not been rowing to-day?"</p> + +<p>"No; see, I have been gathering the last of the May-blossom. May is +all but dead."</p> + +<p>"And 'Flower of the May'?"</p> + +<p>"Please do not remind me of that foolish song. Had I known, I would +not have sung it for worlds."</p> + +<p>"I would not for worlds have missed it."</p> + +<p>Again she frowned and now turned to go. "And you, too, must make +these speeches!"</p> + +<p>The world of reproach in her tone was at once gall and honey to me. +Gall, because the "you too" conjured up a host of jealous imaginings; +honey, because it was revealed that of me she had hoped for better. +And now like a fool I had flung her good opinion away and she was +leaving me.</p> + +<p>I made a half-step forward.</p> + +<p>"I must go now," she said, and the little hand was held out in token +of farewell.</p> + +<p>"No! no! I have offended you."</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>"I have offended you," I insisted, still holding her hand.</p> + +<p>"I forgive you. But, indeed, I must go." The hand made a faint +struggle to be free.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>My voice came hard and unnatural. I still held the fingers, and as I +did so, felt the embarrassment of utter shyness pass over the bridge +of our two hands and settle chokingly upon my heart.</p> + +<p>"Why?" I repeated, more hoarsely yet.</p> + +<p>"Because—because I must not neglect mother again. She is waiting."</p> + +<p>"Then let me go with you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! Some day—if we meet—I will introduce you."</p> + +<p>"Why not now?"</p> + +<p>"Because she is not well."</p> + +<p>Even my lately-acquired knowledge of the <i>Materia Medico</i>, scarcely +warranted me in offering to cure her. But I did.</p> + +<p>She laughed shyly and said, "How, sir; are you a doctor?"</p> + +<p>"Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, gentleman, apothecary," I said +lightly, "neither one nor the other, but that curious compound of the +two last—a medical student."</p> + +<p>"Then I will not trust you," she answered, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Better trust me," I said; and something in my words again made her +look down.</p> + +<p>"You will trust me?" I pleaded, and the something in my words grew +plainer.</p> + +<p>Still no answer.</p> + +<p>"Oh, trust me!"</p> + +<p>The hand quivered in mine an instant, the eyes looked up and laughed +once more. "I will trust you," she said—"not to move from this spot +until I am out of sight."</p> + +<p>Then with a light "Good-bye" she was gone, and I was left to vaguely +comprehend my loss.</p> + +<p>Before long I had seen her a third time and yet once again. I had +learnt her name to be Luttrell—Claire Luttrell; how often did I not +say the words over to myself? I had also confided in Tom and +received his hearty condolence, Tom being in that stage of youth +which despises all of which it knows nothing—love especially, as a +thing contrary to nature's uniformity. So Tom was youthfully +cynical, and therefore by strange inference put on the airs of +superior age; was also sceptical of my description, especially a +certain comparison of her eyes to stars, though a very similar trope +occurred somewhere in the tragedy. Indeed therein Francesca's eyes +were likened to the Pleiads, being apparently (as I pointed out with +some asperity) seven in number, and one of them lost.</p> + +<p>I had also seen Mrs. Luttrell, a worn and timid woman, with weak blue +eyes and all the manner of the professional invalid. I say this now, +but in those days she was in my eyes a celestial being mysteriously +clothed in earth's infirmities—as how should the mother of Claire be +anything else? Somehow I won the favour of this faded creature— +chiefly, I suspect, because she liked so well to be left alone. +All day long she would sit contentedly watching the river and waiting +for Claire, yet only anxious that Claire should be happy. All her +heart centred on her child, and often, in spite of our friendliness, +I caught her glancing from Claire to me with a jealous look, as +though the mother guessed what the child suspected but dimly, if at +all.</p> + +<p>So the summer slipped away, all too fleetly—to me, as I look back +after these weary years, in a day. But nevertheless much happened: +not much that need be written down in bald and pitiless prose, but +much to me who counted and treasured every moment that held my +darling near me. So the Loves through that golden season wound us +round with their invisible chains and hovered smiling and waiting. +So we drifted week after week upon the river, each time nearer and +nearer to the harbour of confession. The end was surely coming, and +at last it came.</p> + +<p>It was a gorgeous August evening. A week before she had told me that +Saturday would be a holiday for her, and had, when pressed, admitted +a design of spending it upon the river. Need it be confessed that +Saturday saw me also in my boat, expectant? And when she came and +feigned pretty astonishment at meeting me, and scepticism as to my +doing any work throughout the week, need I say the explanation took +time and seemed to me best delivered in a boat? At any rate, so it +was; and somehow, the explanation took such a vast amount of time, +that the sun was already plunging down the western slope of heaven +when we stepped ashore almost on the very spot where first I had +heard her voice.</p> + +<p>As the first film of evening came creeping over earth, there fell a +hush between us. A blackbird—the same, I verily believe—took the +opportunity to welcome us. His note was no longer full and unstudied +as in May. The summer was nearly over, and with it his voice was +failing; but he did his best, and something in the hospitality of his +song prompted me to break the silence.</p> + +<p>"This is the very spot on which we met for the first time—do you +remember?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I remember," was the simple answer.</p> + +<p>"You do?" I foolishly burned to hear the assurance again.</p> + +<p>"Of course—it was such a lovely day."</p> + +<p>"A blessed day," I answered, "the most blessed of my life."</p> + +<p>There was a long pause here, and even the blackbird could hardly fill +it up.</p> + +<p>"Do you regret it?"</p> + +<p>(Why does man on these occasions ask such a heap of questions?)</p> + +<p>"Why should I?"</p> + +<p>(Why does woman invariably answer his query with another?)</p> + +<p>"I hope there is no reason," I answered, "and yet—oh, can you not +see of what that day was the beginning? Can you not see whither +these last four months have carried me?"</p> + +<p>The sun struck slanting on the water and ran in tapering lustre to +our feet. The gilded ripple slipped and murmured below us; the +bronzed leaves overhead bent carefully to veil her answer. The bird +within the covert uttered an anxious note.</p> + +<p>"They have carried you, it seems," she answered, with eyes gently +lowered, "back to the same place."</p> + +<p>"They have carried me," I echoed, "from spring to summer. If they +have brought me back to this spot, it is because the place and I have +changed—Claire!"</p> + +<p>As I called her by her Christian name she gave one quick glance, and +then turned her eyes away again. I could see the soft rose creeping +over her white neck and cheek. Had I offended? Between hope and +desperation, I continued—</p> + +<p>"Claire—I will call you Claire, for that was the name you told me +just four months ago—I am changed, oh, changed past all remembrance! +Are you not changed at all? Am I still nothing to you?"</p> + +<p>She put up her hand as if to ward off further speech, but spoke no +word herself.</p> + +<p>"Answer me, Claire; give me some answer if only a word. Am I still +no more than the beggar who rescued your boat that day?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, you are my friend—now. Please forget that I took you +for a beggar."</p> + +<p>The words came with effort. Within the bushes the blackbird still +chirped expectant, and the ripple below murmured to the bank, +"The old story—the old story."</p> + +<p>"But I am a beggar," I broke out. "Claire, I am always a beggar on +my knees before you. Oh, Claire!"</p> + +<p>Her face was yet more averted—the sun kissed her waving locks with +soft lips of gold, the breeze half stirred the delicate draperies +around her. The blackbird's note was broken and halting as my own +speech.</p> + +<p>"Claire, have you not guessed? will you never guess? Oh, have pity +on me!"</p> + +<p>I could see the soft bosom heaving now. The little hand was pulling +at the gown. Her whole sweet shape drooped away from me in vague +alarm—but still no answer came.</p> + +<p>"Courage! Courage!" chirped the bird, and the river murmured +responsive, "Courage!"</p> + +<p>"Claire!"—and now there was a ring of agony in the voice; the tones +came alien and scarcely recognised—"Claire, I have watched and +waited for this day, and now that it has come, for good or for evil, +answer me—I love you!"</p> + +<p>O time-honoured and most simple of propositions! "I love you!" Night +after night had I lain upon my bed rehearsing speeches, tender, +passionate and florid, and lo! to this had it all come—to these +three words, which, as my lips uttered them, made my heart leap in +awe of their crude and naked daring.</p> + +<p>And she? The words, as though they smote her, chased for an instant +the rich blood from her cheek. For a moment the bosom heaved wildly, +then the colour came slowly back, and ebbed again. A soft tremor +shook the bending form, the little hand clutched the gown, but she +made no answer.</p> + +<p>"Speak to me, Claire! I love you! With my life and soul I love you. +Can you not care for me?" I took the little hand. "Claire, my heart +is in your hands—do with it what you will, but speak to me. Can you +not—do you not—care for me?"</p> + +<p>The head drooped lower yet, the warm fingers quivered within mine, +then tightened, and—</p> + +<p>What was that whisper, that less than whisper, for which I bent my +head? Had I heard aright? Or why was it that the figure drooped +closer, and the bird's note sprang up jubilant?</p> + +<p>"Claire!"</p> + +<p>A moment—one tremulous, heart-shaking moment—and then her form bent +to me, abandoned, conquered; her face looked up, then sank upon my +breast; but before it sank I read upon it a tenderness and a passion +infinite, and caught in her eyes the perfect light of love.</p> + +<p>As the glory of delight came flooding on my soul, the sun's disc +dropped, and the first cold shadow of night fell upon earth. +The blackbird uttered a broken "Amen," and was gone no man knew +whither. The golden ripple passed up the river, and vanished in a +leaden grey. One low shuddering sigh swept through the trees, then +all was dumb. I looked westward. Towards the horizon the blue of +day was fading downwards through indistinguishable zones of purple, +amethyst, and palest rose, the whole heaven arching in one perfect +rainbow of love.</p> + +<p>But while I looked and listened to the beating of that beloved heart +girdled with my arm, there grew a something on the western sky that +well-nigh turned my own heart to marble. At first, a lightest +shadow—a mere breath upon heaven's mirror, no more. Then as I +gazed, it deepened, gathering all shadows from around the pole, +heaping, massing, wreathing them around one spot in the troubled +west—a shape that grew and threatened and still grew, until I looked +on—what?</p> + +<p>Up from the calm sea of air rose one solitary island, black and +looming, rose and took shape and stood out—the very form and +semblance of Dead Man's Rock! Sable and real as death it towered +there against the pale evening, until its shadow, falling on my heart +itself and on the soft brown head that bent and nestled there, lay +round us clasped so, and with its frown cursed the morning of our +love.</p> + +<p>Something in my heart's beat, or in the stiffening of my arm, must +have startled my darling, for as I gazed I felt her stir, and, +looking down, caught her eyes turned wistfully upwards. My lips bent +to hers.</p> + +<p>"Mine, Claire! Mine for ever!"</p> + +<p>And there, beneath the shadow of the Rock, our lips drew closer, met, +and were locked in their first kiss.</p> + +<p>When I looked up again the shadow had vanished, and the west was grey +and clear.</p> + +<p> +So in the tranquil evening we rowed homewards, our hearts too full +for speech. The wan moon rose and trod the waters, but we had no +thoughts, no eyes for her. Our eyes were looking into each other's +depths, our thoughts no thoughts at all, but rather a dazzled and +wondering awe.</p> + +<p>Only as a light or two gleamed out, and Streatley twinkled in the +distance, Claire said—</p> + +<p>"Can it be true? You know nothing of me."</p> + +<p>"I know you love me. What more should I know, or wish to know?"</p> + +<p>The red lips were pursed in a manner that spoke whole tomes of +wisdom.</p> + +<p>"You do not know that I work for my living all the week?"</p> + +<p>"When you are mine you shall work no more."</p> + +<p>"'But sit on a cushion and sew a gold seam'? Ah, no; I have to work. +It is strange," she said, musingly, "so strange."</p> + +<p>"What is strange, Claire?"</p> + +<p>"That you have never seen me except on my holidays—that we have +never met. What have you done since you have been in London?"</p> + +<p>I thought of my walks and tireless quest in Oxford Street with a kind +of shame. That old life was severed from the present by whole +worlds.</p> + +<p>"I have lived very quietly," I answered. "But is it so strange that +we have never met?"</p> + +<p>She laughed a low and musical laugh, and as the boat drew shoreward +and grounded, replied—</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not. Come, let us go to mother—Jasper."</p> + +<p>O sweet sound from sweetest lips! We stepped ashore, and +hand-in-hand entered the room where her mother sat.</p> + +<p>As she looked up and saw us standing there together, she knew the +truth in a moment. Her blue eyes filled with sudden fear, her worn +hand went upwards to her heart. Until that instant she had not known +of my presence there that day, and in a flash divined its meaning.</p> + +<p>"I feared it," she answered at length, as I told my story and stood +waiting for an answer. "I feared it, and for long have been +expecting it. Claire, my love, are you sure? Oh, be quite sure +before you leave me."</p> + +<p>For answer, Claire only knelt and flung her white arms round her +mother's neck, and hid her face upon her mother's bosom.</p> + +<p>"You love him now, you think; but, oh, be careful. Search your heart +before you rob me of it. I have known love, too, Claire, or thought +I did; and indeed it can fade—and then, what anguish, what anguish!"</p> + +<p>"Mother, mother! I will never leave you."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Luttrell sighed.</p> + +<p>"Ah, child, it is your happiness I am thinking of."</p> + +<p>"I will never leave you, mother."</p> + +<p>"And you, sir," continued Mrs. Luttrell, "are you sure? I am giving +you what is dearer than life itself; and as you value her now, treat +her worthily hereafter. Swear this to me, if my gift is worth so +much in your eyes. Sir, do you know—"</p> + +<p>"Mother!"</p> + +<p>Claire drew her mother's head down towards her and whispered in her +ear. Mrs. Luttrell frowned, hesitated, and finally said—</p> + +<p>"Well, it shall be as you wish—though I doubt if it be wise. +God bless you, Claire—and you, sir; but oh, be certain, be certain!"</p> + +<p>What incoherent speech I made in answer I know not, but my heart was +sore for this poor soul. Claire turned her eyes to me and rose, +smoothing her mother's grey locks.</p> + +<p>"We will not leave her, will we? Tell her that we will not."</p> + +<p>I echoed her words, and stepping to Mrs. Luttrell, took the frail, +white hand.</p> + +<p>"Sir," she said, "you who take her from me should be my bitterest +foe. Yet see, I take you for a son."</p> + +<p> +Still rapt with the glory of my great triumph, and drunk with the +passion of that farewell kiss, I walked into our lodgings and laid my +hand on Tom's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Tom, I have news for you."</p> + +<p>Tom started up. "And so have I for you."</p> + +<p>"Great news."</p> + +<p>"Glorious news!"</p> + +<p>"Tom, listen: I am accepted."</p> + +<p>"Bless my soul! Jasper, so am I."</p> + +<p>"You?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"When? Where?"</p> + +<p>"This afternoon. Jasper, our success has come at last: for you the +Loves, for me the Muses; for you the rose, for me the bay. Jasper, +dear boy, they have learnt her worth at last."</p> + +<p>"Her! Who?"</p> + +<p>"Francesca. Jasper, in three months I shall be famous; for next +November 'Francesca: a Tragedy' will be produced at the Coliseum."</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "16"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS HOW THE CURTAIN ROSE UPON "FRANCESCA: A TRAGEDY."</h3><br> + +<p>Again my story may hurry, for on the enchanted weeks that followed it +would weary all but lovers to dwell, and lovers for the most part +find their own matters sufficient food for pondering. Tom was busy +with the rehearsals at the Coliseum, and I, being left alone, had +little taste for the <i>Materia Medica</i>. On Sundays only did I see +Claire; for this Mrs. Luttrell had stipulated, and my love, too, most +mysteriously professed herself busy during the week. As for me, it +was clear that before marriage could be talked of I must at least +have gained my diplomas, so that the more work I did during the week +the better. The result of this was a goodly sowing of resolutions +and very little harvest. In the evenings, Tom and I would sit +together—he tirelessly polishing and pruning the tragedy, and I for +the most part smoking and giving advice which I am bound to say in +duty to the author ("Francesca" having gained some considerable fame +since those days) was invariably rejected.</p> + +<p>Tom had been growing silent and moody of late—a change for which I +could find no cause. He would answer my questions at random, pause +in his work to gaze long and intently on the ceiling, and altogether +behave in ways unaccountable and strange. The play had been written +at white-hot speed: the corrections proceeded at a snail's pace. +The author had also fallen into a habit of bolting his meals in +silence, and, when rebuked, of slowly bringing his eyes to bear upon +me as a person whose presence was until the moment unsuspected. +All this I saw in mild wonder, but I reflected on certain moods of my +own of late, and held my peace.</p> + +<p>The explanation came without my seeking. We were seated together one +evening, he over his everlasting corrections, and I in some +especially herbaceous nook of the <i>Materia Medica</i>, when Tom looked +up and said—</p> + +<p>"Jasper, I want your opinion on a passage. Listen to this."</p> + +<p>Sick of my flowery solitude, I gave him my attention while he read:—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"She is no violet to veil and hide<br> + Before the lusty sun, but as the flower,<br> + His best-named bride, that leaneth to the light<br> + And images his look of lordly love—<br> + Yet how I wrong her. She is more a queen<br> + Than he a king; and whoso looks must kneel<br> + And worship, conscious of a Sovranty<br> + Undreamt in nature, save it be the Heaven<br> + That minist'ring to all is queen of all,<br> + And wears the proud sun's self but as a gem<br> + To grace her girdle, one among the stars.<br> + Heaven is Francesca, and Francesca Heaven.<br> + Without her, Heaven is dispossessed of Heaven,<br> + And Earth, discrowned and disinherited,<br> + Shall beg in black eclipse, until her eyes—"<br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + + +<p>"Stay," I interrupted, "unless I am mistaken her eyes are like the +Pleiads, a simile to which I have more than once objected."</p> + +<p>"If you would only listen you would find those lines cut out," said +Tom, pettishly.</p> + +<p>"In that case I apologise: nevertheless, if that is your idea of a +Francesca, I confess she seems to me a trifle—shall we say?— +massive."</p> + +<p>"Your Claire, I suppose, is stumpy?"</p> + +<p>"My Claire," I replied with dignity, "is neither stumpy nor +stupendous."</p> + +<p>"In fact, just the right height."</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, just the right height."</p> + +<p>Tom paid no attention, but went on in full career—</p> + +<p>"I hate your Griseldas, your Jessamys, your Mary Anns; give me +Semiramis, Dido, Joan of—"</p> + +<p>"My dear Tom, not all at once, I hope."</p> + +<p>"Bah! you are so taken up with your own choice, that you must needs +scoff at anyone who happens to differ. I tell you, woman should be +imperial, majestic; should walk as a queen and talk as a goddess. +You scoff because you have never seen such; you shut your eyes and go +about saying, 'There is no such woman.' By heaven, Jasper, if you +could only see—"</p> + +<p>At this point Tom suddenly pulled up and blushed like any child.</p> + +<p>"Go on—whom shall I see?"</p> + +<p>Tom's blush was beautiful to look upon.</p> + +<p>"The Lambert, for instance; I meant—"</p> + +<p>"Who is the Lambert?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say you have never heard of Clarissa Lambert, the +most glorious actress in London?"</p> + +<p>"Never. Is she acting at the Coliseum?"</p> + +<p>"Of course she is. She takes Francesca. Oh, Jasper, you should see +her, she is divine!"</p> + +<p>Here another blush succeeded.</p> + +<p>"So," I said after a pause, "you have taken upon yourself to fall in +love with this Clarissa Lambert."</p> + +<p>Tom looked unutterably sheepish.</p> + +<p>"Is the passion returned?"</p> + +<p>"Jasper, don't talk like that and don't be a fool. Of course I have +never breathed a word to her. Why, she hardly knows me, has hardly +spoken to me beyond a few simple sentences. How should I, a +miserable author without even a name, speak to her? Jasper, do you +like the name Clarissa?"</p> + +<p>"Not half so well as Claire."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense; Claire is well enough as names go, but nothing to +Clarissa. Mark how the ending gives it grace and quaintness; what a +grand eighteenth-century ring it has! It is superb—so sweet, and at +the same time so stately."</p> + +<p>"And replaces Francesca so well in scansion."</p> + +<p>Tom's face was confession.</p> + +<p>"You should see her, Jasper—her eyes. What colour are Claire's?"</p> + +<p>"Deep grey."</p> + +<p>"Clarissa's are hazel brown: I prefer brown; in fact I always thought +a woman should have brown eyes: we won't quarrel about inches, but +you will give way in the matter of eyes, will you not?"</p> + +<p>"Not an inch."</p> + +<p>"It really is wonderful," said Tom, "how the mere fact of being in +love is apt to corrupt a man's taste. Now in the matter of voice—I +dare wager that your Claire speaks in soft and gentle numbers."</p> + +<p>"As an Aeolian harp," said I, and I spoke truth.</p> + +<p>"Of course, unrelieved tenderness and not a high note in the gamut. +But you should hear Clarissa; I only ask you to hear her once, and +let those glorious accents play upon your crass heart for a moment or +two. O Jasper, Jasper, it shakes the very soul!"</p> + +<p>Tom was evidently in a very advanced stage of the sickness; I could +not find it in my heart to return his flouts of a month before, so I +said—</p> + +<p>"Very well, my dear Tom, I shall look upon your divinity in November. +I do not promise you she will have the effect that you look forward +to, but I am glad your Francesca will be worthily played; and, Tom, I +am glad you are in love; I think it improves you."</p> + +<p>"It is hopeless—absolutely hopeless; she is cold as ice."</p> + +<p>"What, with that voice and those eyes? Nonsense, man."</p> + +<p>"She is cold as ice," groaned poor Tom; "everyone says so."</p> + +<p>"Of course everyone says so; you ought to be glad of that, for this +is the one point on which what everyone says must from the nature of +things be false. Why, man, if she beamed on the whole world, then I +might believe you."</p> + +<p>From which it will be gathered that I had learned something from +being in love.</p> + +<p> +So sad did I consider Tom's case, that I spoke to Claire about it +when I saw her next.</p> + +<p>"Claire," I said, "you have often heard me speak of Tom."</p> + +<p>"Really, Jasper, you seldom speak of anybody else. In fact I am +growing quite jealous of this friend."</p> + +<p>After the diversion caused by this speech, I resumed—</p> + +<p>"But really Tom is the best of fellows, and if I talk much of him it +is because he is my only friend. You must see him, Claire, and you +will be sure to like him. He is so clever!"</p> + +<p>"What is the name of this genius—I mean the other name?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Loveday, of course—Thomas Loveday. Do you mean to say I have +never told you?"</p> + +<p>"Never," said Claire, meditatively. "Loveday—Thomas Loveday—is it +a common name?"</p> + +<p>"No, I should think not very common. Don't you like it?"</p> + +<p>"It—begins well."</p> + +<p>Here followed another diversion.</p> + +<p>"But what I was going to say about Tom," I continued, "is this—he +has fallen in love; in fact, I have never seen a man so deeply in +love."</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>"Anyone else," I corrected, "for of course I was quite as bad; you +understand that."</p> + +<p>"We were talking of Thomas Loveday."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, of Tom. Well, Tom, you know—or perhaps you do not. +At any rate, Tom has written a tragedy."</p> + +<p>"All about love?"</p> + +<p>"Well, not quite all; though there is a good deal in it, considering +it was written when the author had no idea of what the passion was +like. But that is not the point. This tragedy is coming out at the +Coliseum in November. Are you not well, Claire?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; go on. What has all this to do with Tom's love?"</p> + +<p>"I am coming to that. Tom, of course, has been attending the +rehearsals lately. He will not let me come until the piece is ready, +for he is wonderfully nervous. I am to come and see it on the first +night. Well, as I was saying, Tom has been going to rehearsals, and +has fallen in love with—guess with whom."</p> + +<p>Claire was certainly getting very white.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure you are well, Claire?" I asked, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; quite sure. But tell me with whom—how should I guess?"</p> + +<p>"Why, with the leading actress; one Clarissa Lambert, is it not?"</p> + +<p>"Clarissa—Lambert!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Claire, what is the matter? Are you faint?" For my love had +turned deathly pale, and seemed as though she would faint indeed.</p> + +<p>We were in the old spot so often revisited, though the leaves were +yellowing fast, and the blackbird's note had long ceased utterly. +I placed my arm around her for support, but my darling unlocked it +after a moment, struggled with her pallor, and said—</p> + +<p>"No, no; I am better. It was a little faintness, but is passing off. +Go on, and tell me about Mr. Loveday."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid I bored you. But that is all. Do you know this +Clarissa Lambert? Have you seen her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—I have seen her."</p> + +<p>"I suppose she is very famous; at least, Tom says so. He also says +she is divine; but I expect, from his description, that she is of the +usual stamp of Tragedy Queen, tall and loud, with a big voice."</p> + +<p>"Did he tell you that?"</p> + +<p>"No, of course Tom raves about her. But there is no accounting for +what a lover will say." This statement was made with all the sublime +assurance of an accepted man. "But you have seen her," I went on, +"and can tell me how far his description is true. I suppose she is +much the same as other actresses, is she not?"</p> + +<p>"Jasper," said Claire, very gently, after a pause, "do you ever go to +a theatre?"</p> + +<p>"Very seldom; in fact, about twice only since I have been in London."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you were taught as a boy to hate such things?"</p> + +<p>"Well," I laughed, "I do not expect Uncle Loveday would have approved +of Tom's choice, if that is what you mean. But that does not matter, +I fear, as Tom swears that his case is hopeless. He worships from +afar, and says that she is as cold as ice. In fact, he has never +told his love, but lets concealment like a—"</p> + +<p>"That is not what I meant. Do you—do you think all actors and +actresses wicked?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not. Why should I?"</p> + +<p>"You are going to see—"</p> + +<p>"'Francesca'? Oh, yes, on the opening night."</p> + +<p>"Then possibly we shall meet. Will you look out for me?"</p> + +<p>"Let me take you, Claire. Oh, I am glad indeed! You will see Tom +there, and, I hope, be able to congratulate him on his triumph. +So let me take you."</p> + +<p>She shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No, no."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because that is impossible—really. I shall see you there, and you +will see me. Is not that enough?"</p> + +<p>"If you say so, it must be," I answered sadly. "But—"</p> + +<p>"'But me no buts,'" she quoted. "See, it is getting late; we must be +going."</p> + +<p>A most strange silence fell upon us on the way back to Streatley. +Claire's face had not yet wholly regained its colour, and she seemed +disinclined to talk. So I had to solace myself by drinking in long +draughts of her loveliness, and by whispering to my soul how poorly +Tom's Queen of Tragedy would show beside my sweetheart.</p> + +<p>O fool and blind!</p> + +<p>Presently my love asked musingly—</p> + +<p>"Jasper, do you think that you could cease to love me?"</p> + +<p>"Claire, how can you ask it?"</p> + +<p>"You are quite sure? You remember what mother said?"</p> + +<p>"Claire, love is strong as death. How does the text run? +'Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if +a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would +utterly be contemned.' Claire, you must believe that!"</p> + +<p>"'Strong as death,'" she murmured. "Yes, I believe it. What a +lovely text that is!"</p> + +<p>The boat touched shore at Streatley, and we stepped out.</p> + +<p>"Jasper," she said again at parting that night, "you have no +doubt, no grain of doubt, about my question, and the answer? +'Strong as death,' you are sure?"</p> + +<p>For answer I strained her to my heart.</p> + +<p>O fool and blind! O fool and blind!</p> + +<p> +The night that was big with Tom's fate had come. The Coliseum was +crowded as we entered. In those days the theatre had no stalls, so +we sat in the front row of the dress circle, Tom having in his +modesty refused a box. He was behind the scenes until some five +minutes before the play began, so that before he joined me I had +ample time to study the house and look about for some sign of Claire.</p> + +<p>Certainly, the sedulous manner in which the new tragedy had been +advertised was not without result. To me, unused as I was to +theatre-going, the host of people, the hot air, the glare of the +gas-lights were intoxicating. In a flutter of anxiety for Tom's +success, of sweet perturbation at the prospect of meeting Claire, at +first I could grasp but a confused image of the scene. By degrees, +however, I began to look about me, and then to scan the audience +narrowly for sight of my love.</p> + +<p>Surely I should note her at once among thousands. Yet my first +glance was fruitless. I looked again, examined the house slowly face +by face, and again was baffled. I could see all but a small portion +of the pit, the upper boxes and gallery. Pit and gallery were out of +the question. She might, though it was hardly likely, be in the tier +just above, and I determined to satisfy myself after the end of Act +I. Meantime I scanned the boxes. There were twelve on either side +of the house, and all were full. By degrees I satisfied myself that +strangers occupied all of them, except the box nearest the stage on +the right of the tier where I was sitting. The occupants of this +were out of sight. Only a large yellow and black fan was swaying +slowly backwards and forwards to tell me that somebody sat there.</p> + +<p>Somehow, the slow, ceaseless motion of this pricked my curiosity. +Its pace, as it waved to and fro, was unaltered; the hand that moved +it seemingly tireless; but even the hand was hidden. Not a finger +could I gain a glimpse of. By some silly freak of fancy I was +positively burning with eagerness to see the fan's owner, when Tom +returned and took his seat beside me.</p> + +<p>"It begins in five minutes; everything is ready," said he, and his +voice had a nervous tremor which he sought in vain to hide.</p> + +<p>"Courage!" I said; "at least the numbers here should flatter you."</p> + +<p>"They frighten me! What shall I do if it fails?"</p> + +<p>The overture was drawing to its close. Tom looked anxiously around +the house.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "it is crowded, indeed. By the way, was not Claire +to have been here? Point her out to me."</p> + +<p>"She was; but I cannot see her anywhere. Perhaps she is late."</p> + +<p>"If so, I cannot see where she is to find a place. Hush! they are +ending."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, the last strains of the orchestra died slowly and +mournfully away, and the curtain rose upon "Francesca: a Tragedy."</p> + +<p>This play has since gained such a name, not only from its own merits +(which are considerable), but in consequence also of certain +circumstances which this story will relate, that it would be not only +tedious but unnecessary to follow its action in detail. For the +benefit, however, of those who did not see it at the Coliseum, I here +subjoin a short sketch of the plot, which the better-informed reader +may omit.</p> + +<p>Francesca is the daughter of Sebastian, at one time Duke of Bologna, +but deposed and driven from his palace by the intrigues of his +younger brother Charles. At the time when the action begins, +Sebastian is chief of a band of brigands, the remains of his faithful +adherents, whom he has taken with him to the fastnesses of the +Apennines. Charles, who has already usurped the duchy for some +sixteen years, is travelling with his son Valentine, a youth of +twenty, near the haunt of his injured brother. Separated from their +escort, they are wandering up a pass, when Valentine stops to admire +the view, promising his father to join him at the summit. While thus +occupied, he is startled by the entrance of Francesca, and, struck +with her beauty, accosts her. She, sympathising for so noble a +youth, warns him of the banditti, and he hastens on only to find his +father lying at the foot of a precipitous rock, dead. He supposes +him to have fallen, has the body conveyed back to Bologna, and having +by this time fallen deeply in love with Francesca, prevails on her to +leave her father and come with him. She consents, and flies with +him, but after some time finds that he is deserting her for Julia, +daughter of the Duke of Ferrara. Slighted and driven to desperation, +she makes her way back to her father, is forgiven, and learns that +Charles' death was due to no accident, but to her father's hand. +No sooner is this discovery made than Valentine and Julia are brought +in by the banditti, who have surprised and captured them, but do not +know their rank. The deposed duke, Sebastian, does not recognise +Valentine, and consigns him, with his wife, to a cave, under guard of +the brigands. It is settled by Sebastian that on the morrow +Valentine is to go and fetch a ransom, leaving his wife behind. +Francesca, having plied the guards with drink, enters by night into +the cave where they lie captive, is recognised by them, and offers to +change dresses with Julia in order that husband and wife may escape. +A fine scene follows of insistence and self-reproach, but ultimately +Francesca prevails. Valentine and Julia pass out in the grey dawn, +and Francesca, left alone, stabs herself. The play concludes as her +father enters the cave and discovers his daughter's corpse.</p> + +<p>The first scene (which is placed at the court of Bologna) passed +without disaster, and the curtain fell for a moment before it rose +upon the mountain pass. Hitherto the audience had been chilly. +They did not hiss, but neither did they applaud; and I could feel, +without being able to give any definite reason for the impression, +that so far the play had failed. Tom saw it too. I did not dare to +look in his face, but could tell his agony by his short and laboured +breathing. Luckily his torture did not last long, for the curtain +quickly rose for Scene 2.</p> + +<p>The scene was beautifully painted and awakened a momentary enthusiasm +in the audience. It died away, however, as Sebastian and Valentine +entered. The dialogue between them was short, and Valentine was very +soon left alone to a rather dull soliloquy (since shortened) which +began to weary the audience most unmistakably. I caught the sound of +a faint hiss, saw one or two people yawning; and then—</p> + +<p>Stealing, rising, swelling, gathering as it thrilled the ear all +graces and delights of perfect sound; sweeping the awed heart with +touch that set the strings quivering to an ecstasy that was almost +pain; breathing through them in passionate whispering; hovering, +swaying, soaring upward to the very roof, then shivering down again +in celestial shower of silver—there came a voice that trod all +conceptions, all comparisons, all dreams to scorn; a voice beyond +hope, beyond belief; a voice that in its unimaginable beauty seemed +to compel the very heaven to listen.</p> + +<p>And yet—surely I knew—surely it could not be—</p> + +<p>I must be dreaming—mad! The bare notion was incredible—and even as +my heart spoke the words, the theatre grew dim and shadowy; the vast +sea of faces heaved, melted, swam in confusion; all sound came dull +and hoarse upon my ear; while there—there—</p> + +<p>There, in the blaze of light, radiant, lovely, a glorified and +triumphant queen, stepped forward before the eyes of that vast +multitude—my love, my Claire!</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "17"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS HOW THE BLACK AND YELLOW FAN SENT A MESSAGE;<br> AND HOW I SAW A +FACE IN THE FOG.</h3><br> + +<p>As I sat stupefied our eyes met. It was but for an instant, but in +that instant I saw that she recognised me and mutely challenged my +verdict. Then she turned to Valentine.</p> + +<p>The theatre rang with tumultuous plaudits as her song ended. I could +feel Tom's grasp at my elbow, but I could neither echo the applause +nor answer him. It was all so wildly, grotesquely improbable.</p> + +<p>This then was my love, this the Claire whom I had wooed and won in +the shy covert of Pangbourne Woods—this deified and transfigured +being before whom thousands were hushed in awe. Those were the lips +that had faltered in sweet confession—those before which the breath +of thousands came and went in agitated wonder. It was incredible.</p> + +<p>And then, as Tom's hand was laid upon my arm, it flashed upon me that +the woman he loved was my plighted bride—and he knew nothing of it. +As this broke upon me there swept over me an awful dread lest he +should see my face and guess the truth. How could I tell him? +Poor Tom! Poor Tom!</p> + +<p>I turned my eyes upon Claire again. Yes, she was superb: beyond all +challenge glorious. And all the more I felt as one who has betrayed +his friend and is angry with fate for sealing such betrayal beyond +revoke.</p> + +<p>Whether Claire misinterpreted my look of utter stupefaction or not, I +do not know; but as she turned and recognised Valentine there was a +tremor in her voice which the audience mistook for art, though I knew +it to be but too real. I tried to smile and to applaud, but neither +eyes nor hand would obey my will; and so even Claire's acting became +a reproach and an appeal to me, pleading forgiveness to which my soul +cried assent though my voice denied it. Minute after minute I sat +beneath an agonising spell I could not hope to break.</p> + +<p> +"Congratulate me, Jasper. What do you think of her?"</p> + +<p>It was Tom's voice beside me. Congratulate him! I felt the meanest +among men.</p> + +<p>"She is—glorious," I stammered.</p> + +<p>"I knew you would say so. Unbeliever, did ever man see such eyes? +Confess now, what are Claire's beside them?"</p> + +<p>"Claire's—are—much the same."</p> + +<p>"Why, man, Claire's were deep grey but a day or two ago, and +Clarissa's are the brownest of brown; but of course you cannot see +from here."</p> + +<p>Alas! I knew too surely the colour of Claire's eyes, so like brown +in the blaze of the foot-lights. And her height—Tom had only seen +her walk in tragic buskin. How fatally easy had the mistake been!</p> + +<p>"Tom, your success is certain now."</p> + +<p>"Yes, thanks to her. They were going to damn the play before she +entered. I could see it. Did you see, Jasper? She looked this way +for a moment. Do you think she meant to encourage me? By the way, +have you caught sight of Claire yet?"</p> + +<p>Oh, Tom, Tom, let me spare you for this night! My heart throbbed and +something in my throat seemed choking me as I muttered, "Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then do not stay congratulating me, but fly. Success spoils the +lover. Ah, Jasper, if only Clarissa had summoned me! Hasten: I will +keep my eye upon you and smile approval on your taste. Where is +she?"</p> + +<p>Again something seemed to catch me by the throat; I was struggling to +answer when I heard a voice behind me say, "For you, sir," and a note +was thrust into my hand. With beating heart I opened it, expecting +to see Claire's handwriting. But the note was not from her. It was +scribbled hastily with pencil in a bold hand, and ran thus:—</p> + +<p> "An old friend wishes to see you. Come, if you have time. + Box No. 7."</p> + +<p>At first I thought the message must have reached me by mistake, but +it was very plainly directed to "J. Trenoweth, Esq." I looked around +for the messenger but found him gone, and fell to scanning the boxes +once more.</p> + +<p>As before, they were filled with strangers; and, as before, the black +and yellow fan was waving slowly to and fro, as though the hand that +wielded it was no hand at all, but rather some untiring machine. +Still the owner remained invisible. I hesitated, reflected a moment, +and decided that even a fool's errand was better than enduring the +agony of Tom's rapture. I rose.</p> + +<p>"I will be back again directly," I said, and then left him.</p> + +<p>Still pondering on the meaning of this message, I made my way down +the passages until I came to the doors of the boxes, and stopped +opposite that labelled "No. 7." As I did so, it struck me that this, +from its position, must be the one which contained the black and +yellow fan. By this time thoroughly curious, I knocked.</p> + +<p>"Come in," said a low voice which I seemed to remember.</p> + +<p>I entered and found myself face to face with the yellow woman—the +mistress of the gambling-hell.</p> + +<p>She was seated there alone, slightly retired from the view of the +house and in the shadow; but her arm, as it rested on the cushion, +still swayed the black and yellow fan, and her diamonds sparkled +lustrously as ever in the glare that beat into the box. Her dress, +as if to emphasise the hideousness of her skin and form a staring +contrast with her wrinkled face and white hair, was of black and +yellow, in which she seemed some grisly corpse masquerading as youth.</p> + +<p>Struck dumb by this apparition, I took the seat into which she +motioned me, while her wonderful eyes regarded my face with stony +impassiveness. I could hear the hoarse murmurs of the house and feel +the stifling heat as it swept upwards from the pit. The strange +woman did not stir except to keep up the ceaseless motion of her +wrist.</p> + +<p>For a full five minutes, as it seemed to me, we sat there silently +regarding each other. Then at last she spoke, and the soft voice was +as musically sympathetic as ever.</p> + +<p>"You seem astonished to see me, Mr. Trenoweth, and yet I have been +looking for you for a long time."</p> + +<p>I bowed.</p> + +<p>"I have been expecting you to give me a chance of redeeming my +defeat."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," stammered I, not fully recovered from my surprise, +"but that is not likely."</p> + +<p>"No? From my point of view it was extremely likely. But somehow +I had a suspicion that you would be different from the rest. +Perhaps it was because I had set my heart upon your coming."</p> + +<p>"I hope," said I, "that the money—"</p> + +<p>She smiled and waved her hand slightly.</p> + +<p>"Do not trouble about that. Had I chosen, I could have gone on +losing to you until this moment. No, perhaps it was simply because +you were least likely to do so, that I wished you to come back as all +other young men would come back. I hope you reached home safely with +what you won; but I need not ask that."</p> + +<p>"Indeed you need. I was attacked as I left the room, and but for a +lucky accident, should now be dead."</p> + +<p>"Ah," she said placidly; "you suspect me. Don't say 'no,' for +I can see you do. Nevertheless you are entirely wrong. +Why, Mr. Trenoweth, had I chosen, do you think I could not have had +you robbed before you had gone three paces from the house?"</p> + +<p>This was said with such composure, and her eyes were so absolutely +void of emotion, that I could but sit and gasp. Once more I recalled +the moment when, as I fled down the dark passage, I had seen her +sitting motionless and calm in the light of her countless candles.</p> + +<p>"But do you think I sent for you to tell you that?" she continued. +"I sent for you because you interested me, and because I want a talk +with you. Hush! the curtain is rising for the second act. Let us +resume when it has finished; you will not deny me that favour at +least."</p> + +<p>I bowed again, and was silent as the curtain rose—and once more +Claire's superb voice thrilled the house. Surely man was seldom more +strangely placed than was I, between the speech of my love and the +eyes of this extraordinary woman. As I sat in the shadow and +listened, I felt those blazing fires burning into my very soul; yet +whenever I looked up and met them, their icy glitter baffled all +interpretation. Still as I sat there, the voice of Claire came to me +as though beseeching and praying for my judgment, and rising with the +blaze of light and heated atmosphere of the house, swept into the box +until I could bear the oppression no longer. She must have looked +for me, and seeing my place empty, have guessed that I condemned her. +Mad with the thought, I rose to my feet and stood for a minute full +in the light of the theatre. It may not have been even a minute, but +she saw me, and once more, as our gaze met, faltered for an instant. +Then the voice rang out clear and true again, and I knew that all was +well between us. Yet in her look there was something which I could +not well interpret.</p> + +<p>As I sank back in my seat, I met the eyes of my companion still +impenetrably regarding me. But as the curtain fell she said +quietly—</p> + +<p>"So you know Clarissa Lambert?"</p> + +<p>I stammered an affirmative.</p> + +<p>"Well? You admire her acting?"</p> + +<p>"I never saw it until to-night."</p> + +<p>"That is strange; and yet you know her?"</p> + +<p>I nodded.</p> + +<p>"She is a great success—on which I congratulate myself, for I +discovered her."</p> + +<p>"You!" I could only exclaim.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I. Is it so extraordinary? She and I are connected, so to +speak; which makes it the more odd that she should never have +mentioned you."</p> + +<p>The eyes seemed now to be reading me as a book. I summoned all my +courage and tried to return their steady stare. There was a pause, +broken only by the light<i> frou-frou</i> of the fan, as it still waved +slowly backwards and forwards. Among all the discoveries of this +night, it was hard enough to summon reason, harder to utter speech.</p> + +<p>"But you will be leaving me again if I do not explain why I sent for +you. You are wondering now on my reasons. They are very simple— +professional even, in part. In the first place, I wished to have a +good look at you. Do you wonder why an old woman should wish to look +upon a comely youth? Do not blush; but listen to my other and +professional reason. I should greatly like, if I may, to look upon +your talisman—that golden buckle or whatever it was that brought +such marvellous luck. Is it on you to-night?"</p> + +<p>I wore it, as a matter of fact, in my waistcoat pocket, attached to +one end of my chain; but I hesitated for a moment.</p> + +<p>"You need not be afraid," she said, and there was a suspicion of +mockery in her tone. "I will return it, as I returned it before. +But if you are reluctant to let me see it (and remember, I have seen +it once), do not hesitate to refuse. I shall not be annoyed."</p> + +<p>Reflecting that, after all, her curiosity was certain to be baffled, +I handed her the Golden Clasp, with the chain, in silence.</p> + +<p>"It is a curious relic," said she, as she slowly examined it and laid +it on her lap for a moment. "If the question be allowed, how did you +become possessed of it?"</p> + +<p>"It belonged to my father," I answered.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me," she said, deliberately, "that is hardly an answer to my +question."</p> + +<p>During the silence that followed, she took up the clasp again, and +studied the writing. As she did so she used her right hand only; +indeed, during the whole time, her left had been occupied with her +tireless fan. I fancied, though I could not be certain, that it was +waving slightly faster than before.</p> + +<p>"The writing seems to be nonsense. What is this—'Moon end +South—deep at point'? I can make no meaning of it. I suppose +there is a meaning?"</p> + +<p>"Not to my knowledge," said I, and immediately repented, for once +more I seemed to catch that gleam in her eyes which had so baffled me +when first she saw the Clasp. The curtain rose upon the third act of +"Francesca," and we sat in silence, she with the Clasp lying upon her +lap, I wondering by what possibility she could know anything about my +father's secret. She could not, I determined. The whole history of +the Golden Clasp made it impossible. And yet I repented my rashness. +It was too late now, however; so, when the act was over I waited for +her to speak.</p> + +<p>"So this belonged to your father. Tell me, was he at all like you?"</p> + +<p>"He was about my height, I should guess," said I, wondering at this +new question; "but otherwise quite unlike. He was a fair man, I am +dark."</p> + +<p>"But your grandfather—was he not dark?"</p> + +<p>"I believe so," I answered, "but really—"</p> + +<p>"You wonder at my questions, of course. Never mind me; think me a +witch, if you like. Do I not look a witch?"</p> + +<p>Indeed she did, as she sat there. The diamonds flashed and gleamed, +lighting up the awful colour of her skin until she seemed a very +"Death-in-Life."</p> + +<p>"I see that I puzzle you; but your looks, Mr. Trenoweth, are hardly +complimentary. However, you are forgiven. Here, take your talisman, +and guard it jealously; I thank you for showing it to me, but if I +were you I should keep it secret. Shall I see you again? I suppose +not. I am afraid I have made you miss some of the tragedy. You must +pardon me for that, as I have waited long to see you. At any rate, +there is the last act to come. Good-bye, and be careful of your +talisman."</p> + +<p>As she spoke, she shut her fan with a sharp click, and then it +flashed upon me that it had never ceased its pendulous motion until +that instant. It was a strange idea to strike me then, but a +stranger yet succeeded. Was it that I heard a low mocking laugh +within the box as I stepped out into the passage? I cannot clearly +tell; perhaps it is but a fancy conjured up by later reflection on +that meeting and its consequences. I only know that as I bowed and +left her, the vision that I bore away was not of the gleaming gems, +the yellow face, the white hair, or waving fan, but of two coal-black +and impenetrable eyes.</p> + +<p>I sought my place, and dropped into the seat beside Tom. The fourth +act was beginning, so that I had time to speculate upon my interview, +but could find no hope of solution. Finally, I abandoned guessing, +to admire Claire. As the play went on, her acting grew more and more +transcendent. Lines which I had heard from Tom's lips and scoffed +at, were now fused with subtle meaning and passion. Scenes which I +had condemned as awkward and heavy, became instinct with exquisite +pathos. There comes a point in acting at which criticism ceases, +content to wonder; this point it was clear that my love had touched. +The new play was a triumphant success.</p> + +<p>"So," said Tom, before the last act, "Claire carries a yellow fan, +does she? I looked everywhere for you at first, and only caught +sight of you for an instant by the merest chance. You behaved rather +shabbily in giving me no chance of criticism, for I never caught a +glimpse of her. I hope she admired—Hallo! she's gone!"</p> + +<p>I followed his gaze, and saw that Box No. 7 was no longer occupied by +the fan.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you saw her off? Well, I do not admire your taste, I must +confess—nor Claire's—to go when Francesca was beginning to touch +her grandest height. Whew! you lovers make me blush for you."</p> + +<p>"Tom." I said, anxious to lead him from all mention of Claire, +"you must forgive me for having laughed at your play."</p> + +<p>"Forgive you! I will forgive you if you weep during the next act; +only on that condition."</p> + +<p>How shall I describe the last act? Those who read "Francesca" in its +published form can form no adequate idea of the enthusiasm in the +Coliseum that night. To them it is a skeleton; then it was clothed +with passionate flesh and blood, breathed, sobbed and wept in purest +pathos; to me, even now, as I read it again, it is charged with the +inspiration of that wonderful art, so true, so tender, that made its +last act a miracle. I saw old men sob, and young men bow their heads +to hide the emotion which they could not check. I saw that audience +which had come to criticise, tremble and break into tumultuous +weeping. Beside me, a greyheaded man was crying as any child. +Yet why do I go on? No one who saw Clarissa Lambert can ever +forget—no one who saw her not can ever imagine.</p> + +<p>Tom had bowed his acknowledgments, the last flower had been flung, +the last cheer had died away as we stepped out into the Strand +together. The street was wrapped in the densest of November fogs. +So thick was it that the lamps, the shop windows, came into sight, +stared at us in ghostly weakness for a moment, and then were gone, +leaving us in Egyptian gloom. I could not hope to see Claire +to-night, and Tom was too modest to offer his congratulations until +the morning. Both he and I were too shaken by the scene just past +for many words, and outside the black fog caught and held us by the +throat.</p> + +<p>Even in the pitchy gloom I could feel that Tom's step was buoyant. +He was treading already in imagination the path of love and fame. +How should I have the heart to tell him? How wither the chaplet that +already seemed to bind his brow?</p> + +<p>Tom was the first to break the silence which had fallen upon us.</p> + +<p>"Jasper, did you ever see or hear the like? Can a man help +worshipping her? But for her, 'Francesca' would have been hissed. +I know it, I could see it, and now, I suppose, I shall be famous.</p> + +<p>"Famous!" continued he, soliloquising. "Three months ago I would +have given the last drop of my blood for fame; and now, without +Clarissa, fame will be a mockery. Do you think I might have any +chance, the least chance?"</p> + +<p>How could I answer him? The fog caught my breath as I tried to +stammer a reply, and Tom, misinterpreting my want of words, read his +condemnation.</p> + +<p>"You do not? Of course, you do not; and you are right. Success has +intoxicated me, I suppose. I am not used to the drink!" and he +laughed a joyless laugh.</p> + +<p>Then, with a change of mood, he caught my hat from off my head, and +set his own in its place.</p> + +<p>"We will change characters for the nonce," he said, "after the +fashion of Falstaff and Prince Hal, and I will read myself a +chastening discourse on the vanity of human wishes. 'Do thou stand +for me, and I'll play my father.' Eh, Jasper?"</p> + +<p>"'Well, here I am set,'" quoted I, content to humour him.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I know thee; thou art Thomas Loveday, a beggarly Grub +Street author, i' faith, a man of literature, and wouldst set eyes +upon one to whom princes fling bouquets; a low Endymion puffing a +scrannel pipe, and wouldst call therewith a queen to be thy bride. +Out upon thee for such monstrous folly!"</p> + +<p>In his voice, as it came to me through the dense gloom, there rang, +for all its summoned gaiety, a desperate mockery hideous to hear.</p> + +<p>"Behold, success hath turned thy weak brain. But an hour agone +enfranchised from Grub Street, thou must sing 'I'd be a butterfly.' +Thou art vanity absolute, conceit beyond measure, and presumption out +of all whooping. Yea, and but as a fool Pygmalion, not content with +loving thine own handiwork, thou must needs fall in love with the +goddess that breathed life into its stiff limbs; must yearn, not for +Galatea, but for Aphrodite; not for Francesca, but for—Ah!"</p> + +<p>What was that? I saw a figure start up as if from below our feet, +and Tom's hand go up to his breast. There was a scuffle, a curse, +and as I dashed forward, a dull, dim gleam—and Tom, with a groan, +sank back into my arms.</p> + +<p>That was all. A moment, and all had happened. Yet not all; for as I +caught the body of my friend, and saw his face turn ashy white in the +gloom, I saw also, saw unmistakably framed for an instant in the +blackness of the fog, a face I knew; a face I should know until death +robbed my eyes of sight and my brain of remembrance—the face of +Simon Colliver.</p> + +<p>A moment, and before I could pursue, before I could even shout or +utter its name, it had faded into the darkness, and was gone.</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "18"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS HOW CLAIRE WENT TO THE PLAY;<br> AND HOW SHE SAW THE GOLDEN CLASP.</h3> +<br> +<p>Tom was dying. His depositions had been taken and signed with his +failing hand; the surgeon had given his judgment, and my friend was +lying upon his bed, face to face with the supreme struggle.</p> + +<p>The knife had missed his heart by little more than an inch, but the +inward bleeding was killing him and there was no hope. He knew it, +and though the reason of that cowardly blow was a mystery to him, he +asked few questions, but faced his fate with the old boyish pluck. +His eyes as they turned to mine were lit with the old boyish love.</p> + +<p>Once only since his evidence was taken had his lips moved, and then +to murmur <i>her</i> name. I had sent for her: a short note with only the +words "Tom is dying and wants to speak with you." So, while we +waited, I sat holding my friend's hand and busy with my own black +thoughts.</p> + +<p>I knew that he had received the blow meant for me, and that +the secret of this too, as well as that other assault in the +gambling-den, hung on the Golden Clasp and the Great Ruby. +Whatever that secret was, the yellow woman knew of it, and held it +beneath the glitter of her awful eyes. She it was that had directed +the murderous knife in the hands of Simon Colliver. Bitterly I +cursed the folly which had prompted my rash words in the theatre, and +so sacrificed my friend. With what passion, even in my despair, I +thanked Heaven that the act which led to Colliver's mistake had been +Tom's and not mine! Yet, what consolation was it? It was I, not he, +that should be lying there. He had given his life for his friend—a +friend who had already robbed him of his love. O false and +traitorous friend!</p> + +<p>In my humiliation I would have taken my hand from his, but a feeble +pressure and a look of faint reproach restrained me. So he lay there +and I sat beside him, and both counted the moments until Claire +should come—or death.</p> + +<p>A knock at the door outside. Tom heard it and in his eyes shone a +light of ineffable joy. In answer to his look I dropped his hand and +went to meet her.</p> + +<p>"Claire, how can I thank you for this speed?"</p> + +<p>"How did it happen?"</p> + +<p>"Murdered!" said I. "Foully struck down last night as he left the +theatre."</p> + +<p>Her eyes looked for a moment as though they would have questioned me +further, but she simply asked—</p> + +<p>"Does he want to see me?"</p> + +<p>"When he heard he was to die he asked for you. Claire, if you only +knew how he longs to see you; had you only seen his eyes when he +heard you come! You know why—"</p> + +<p>She nodded gravely.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," she said slowly, "we had better say nothing of—"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," I answered; "it is better so. If there be any knowledge +beyond the grave he will know all soon."</p> + +<p>Claire was silent.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she assented at length, "it is better so. Take me to him."</p> + +<p>I drew back as Claire approached the bed, dreading to meet Tom's +eyes; but I saw them welcome her in a flash of thankful rapture, then +slowly close as though unable wholly to bear this glad vision.</p> + +<p>Altogether lovely she was as she bent and lifted his nerveless hand, +with the light of purest compassion on her face.</p> + +<p>"You have come then," said the dying man. "God bless you for that!"</p> + +<p>"I am come, and oh! I am so very, very sorry."</p> + +<p>"I saw Jasper write and knew he had sent, but I hardly dared to hope. +I am—very weak—and am going—fast."</p> + +<p>For answer, a tear of infinite pity dropped on the white hand.</p> + +<p>"Don't weep—I can't bear to see you weeping. It is all for the +best. I can see that I have had hopes and visions, but I should +never have attained them—never. Now I shall not have to strive. +Better so—better so."</p> + +<p>For a moment or two the lips moved inaudibly; then they spoke again—</p> + +<p>"It was so good of you—to come; I was afraid—afraid—but you are +good. You saved my play last night, but you cannot save—me." +A wan smile played over the white face and was gone.</p> + +<p>"Better so, for I can speak now and be pardoned. Do you know why I +sent for you? I wanted to tell something—before I died. Do not be +angry—I shall be dead soon, and in the grave, they say, there is no +knowledge. Clarissa! oh, pity me—pity me, if I speak!"</p> + +<p>The eyes looked up imploringly and met their pardon.</p> + +<p>"I have loved you—yes, loved you. Can you forgive? It need not +distress—you—now. It was mad—mad—but I loved you. Jasper, come +here."</p> + +<p>I stepped to the bed.</p> + +<p>"Tell her I loved her, and ask her—to forgive me. Tell her I knew +it was hopeless. Tell her so, Jasper."</p> + +<p>Powerless to meet those trustful eyes, weary with the anguish of my +remorse, I stood there helpless.</p> + +<p>"Jasper is too much—upset just now to speak. Never mind, he will +tell you later. He is in love himself. I have never seen her, but I +hope he may be happier than I. Forgive me for saying that. I am +happy now—happy now.</p> + +<p>"You do not know Jasper," continued the dying man after a pause; "but +he saw you last night—and admired—how could he help it? I hope you +will be friends—for my sake. Jasper is my only friend."</p> + +<p>There was a grey shadow on his face now—the shadow of death. +Tom must have felt it draw near, for suddenly raising himself upon +his elbow, he cried—</p> + +<p>"Ah, I was selfish—I did not think. They are waiting at the +theatre—go to them. You will act your best—for my sake. +Forget what I have said, if you cannot forgive."</p> + +<p>"Oh, why will you think that?"</p> + +<p>"You do forgive? Oh, God bless you, God bless you for it! Clarissa, +if that be so, grant one thing more of your infinite mercy. Kiss me +once—once only—on the lips. I shall die happier so. Will you—can +you—do this?"</p> + +<p>The film was gathering fast upon those eyes once so full of laughter; +but through it they gazed in passionate appeal. For answer, my love +bent gravely over the bed and with her lips met his; then, still +clasping his hand, sank on her knees beside the bed.</p> + +<p>"Thank God! My love—oh, let me call you that—you cannot—help—my +loving you. Do not pray—I am happy now and—they are waiting for +you."</p> + +<p>Slowly Claire arose to her feet and stood waiting for his last word—</p> + +<p>"They are waiting—waiting. Good-bye, Jasper—old friend—and +Clarissa—Clarissa—my love—they are waiting—I cannot come—Clar—"</p> + +<p>Slowly Claire bent and once more touched his lips, then without a +word passed slowly out. As she went Death entered and found on its +victim's face a changeless, rapturous smile.</p> + +<p>So "Francesca" was played a second time and, as the papers said next +morning, with even more perfect art and amid more awed enthusiasm +than on the first night. But as the piece went on, a rumour passed +through the house that its young author was dead—suddenly and +mysteriously dead while the dawn of his fame was yet breaking—struck +down, some said, outside the theatre by a rival, while others +whispered that he had taken poison, but none knew for certain. +Only, as Claire passed from one heart-shaking scene to another, the +rumour grew and grew, so that when the curtain fell the audience +parted in awed and murmured speculations.</p> + +<p>And all the while I was kneeling beside the body of my murdered +friend.</p> + +<p> +A week had passed and I was standing with Claire beside Tom's grave. +We had met and spoken at the funeral, but some restraint had lain +upon our tongues. For myself, I was still as one who had sold his +brother for a price, and Claire had forborne from questioning my +grief.</p> + +<p>The coroner's jury had brought in a verdict of "Murder by a certain +person unknown," and now the police were occupied in following such +clues as I could give them. All the daily papers assigned robbery as +the motive, and the disappearance of Tom's watch-chain gave +plausibility to the theory. But I knew too well why that chain had +disappeared, and even in my grief found consolation in the thought of +Colliver's impotent rage when he should come to examine his prize. +I had described the face and figure of my enemy and had even +identified him with the long-missing sailor Georgio Rhodojani, so +that they promised to lay hands on him in a very short space. +But the public knew nothing of this. The only effect of the +newspapers' version of the murder was to send the town crowding in +greater numbers than ever to see the dead man's play.</p> + +<p>Since the first night of "Francesca," Claire and I had only met by +Tom's bedside and at his funeral. But as I entered the gloomy +cemetery that afternoon I spied a figure draped in black beside the +yet unsettled mound, and as I drew near knew it to be Claire.</p> + +<p>So we stood there facing one another for a full minute, at a loss for +words. A wreath of <i>immortelles</i> lay upon the grave. In my heart I +thanked her for the gift, but could not speak. It seemed as though +the hillock that parted us were some impassable barrier to words. +Had I but guessed the truth I should have known that, unseen and +unsuspected, across that foot or two of turf was stretched a gulf we +were never more to cross: between our lives lay the body of my +friend; and not his only, but many a pallid corpse that with its mute +lips cursed our loves.</p> + +<p>Presently Claire raised her head and spoke.</p> + +<p>"Jasper, you have much to forgive me, and I hardly dare ask your +forgiveness. It is too late to ask forgiveness of a dead man, but +could he hear now I would entreat him to pardon the folly that +wrought this cruel mistake."</p> + +<p>"Claire, you could not know. How was it possible to guess?"</p> + +<p>"That is true, but it is no less cruel. And I deceived you. Can you +ever forgive?"</p> + +<p>"Forgive! forgive what? That I found my love peerless among women? +Oh, Claire, Claire, 'forgive'?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; what matters it that for the moment I have what is called fame? +I deceived you—yet, believe me, it was only because I thought to +make the surprise more pleasant. I thought—but it is too late. +Only believe I had no other thought, no other wish. My poor scheme +seemed so harmless at first: then as the days went on I began to +doubt. But until you told me, as we stood beside the river, of— +<i>him</i>, I never guessed;—oh, believe me, I never guessed!"</p> + +<p>"Love, do not accuse yourself in this way. It hurts me to hear you +speak so. If there was any fault it was mine; but the Fates blinded +us. If you had known Tom, you would know that he would forgive could +he hear us now. For me, Claire, what have I to pardon?"</p> + +<p>Claire did not answer for a moment. There was still a trouble in her +face, as though something yet remained to be said and she had not the +courage to utter it.</p> + +<p>"Jasper, there is something besides, which you have to pardon if you +can."</p> + +<p>"My love!"</p> + +<p>"Do you remember what I asked you that night, when you first told me +about <i>him</i>?"</p> + +<p>"You asked me a foolish question, if I remember rightly. You asked +if I could ever cease to love you."</p> + +<p>"No, not foolish; I really meant it seriously, and I believed you +when you answered me. Are you of the same mind now? Believe me, I +am not asking lightly."</p> + +<p>"I answer you as I answered you then: 'Love is strong as death.' +My love, put away these thoughts and be sure that I love you as my +own soul."</p> + +<p>"But perhaps, even so, you might be so angry that—Oh, Jasper, how +can I tell you?"</p> + +<p>"Tell me all, Claire."</p> + +<p>"I told you I was called, or that they called me Claire. Were you +not surprised when you saw my name as Clarissa Lambert?"</p> + +<p>"Is that all?" I cried. "Why, of course, I knew how common it is for +actresses to take another name. I was even glad of it; for the name +I know, your own name, is now a secret, and all the sweeter so. +All the world admires Clarissa Lambert, but I alone love Claire +Luttrell, and know that Claire Luttrell loves me."</p> + +<p>"But that is not all," she expostulated, whilst the trouble in her +eyes grew deeper. "Oh, why will you make it so hard for me to +explain? I never thought, when I told you so carelessly on that +night when we met for the first time, that you would grow to care for +me at all. And it was the same afterwards, when I introduced you to +my mother; I gave you the name Luttrell, without ever dreaming—"</p> + +<p>"Was Luttrell not your mother's name?" I asked, perplexed.</p> + +<p>"That is the name by which she is always called now; and I am always +called Claire; in fact, it is my name, but I have another, and I +ought to have told you."</p> + +<p>"Why, as Claire I know you, and as Claire I shall always love you. +What does it matter if your real name be Lambert? You will change +it, love, soon, I trust."</p> + +<p>But my poor little jest woke no mirth in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"No, it is not Lambert. That is only the name I took when I went on +the stage. Nor am I called Luttrell. It is a sad story; but let me +tell it now, and put an end to all deception. I meant to do so long +ago; but lately I thought I would wait until after you had seen me on +the stage; I thought I would explain all together, not knowing +that <i>he</i>—but it has all gone wrong. Jasper, I know you will pity +poor mother, even though she had allowed you to be deceived. She has +been so unhappy. But let me tell it first, and then you will judge. +She calls herself Luttrell to avoid persecution; to avoid a man who +is—"</p> + +<p>"A villain, I am sure."</p> + +<p>"A villain, yes; but worse. He is her husband; not my father, but a +second husband. My father died when I was quite a little child, and +she married again. Ever since that day she has been miserable. +I remember her face—oh, so well! when she first discovered the real +character of the man. For years she suffered—we were abroad then— +until at last she could bear it no longer, so she fled—fled back to +England, and took me with her. I think, but I am not sure, that her +husband did not dare to follow her to England, because he had done +something against the laws. I only guess this, for I never dare to +ask mother about him. I did so once, and shall never forget the look +of terror that came into her eyes. I only guess he has some strong +reason for avoiding England, for I remember we went abroad hastily, +almost directly after that night when mother first discovered that +she had been deceived. However that may be, we came to England, +mother and I, and changed our name to Luttrell, which was her maiden +name. After this, our life became one perpetual dread of discovery. +We were miserably poor, of course, and I was unable to do anything to +help for many years. Mother was so careful; why, she even called me +by my second name, so desperately anxious was she to hide all traces +from that man. Then suddenly we were discovered—not by him, but by +his mother, whom he set to search for us, and she—for she was not +wholly bad—promised to make my fortune on the single condition that +half my earnings were sent to him. Otherwise, she threatened that +mother should have no rest. What could I do? It was the only way to +save ourselves. Well, I promised to go upon the stage, for this +woman fancied she discovered some talent in me. Why, Jasper, how +strangely you are looking!"</p> + +<p>"Tell me—tell me," I cried, "who is this woman?"</p> + +<p>"You ought to know that, for you were in the box with her during most +of the first night of 'Francesca.'"</p> + +<p>A horrible, paralysing dread had seized me.</p> + +<p>"Her name, and his? Quick—tell me, for God's sake!"</p> + +<p>"Colliver. He is called Simon Colliver. But, Jasper, what is it? +What—"</p> + +<p>I took the chain and Golden Clasp and handed them to Claire without +speech.</p> + +<p>"Why, what is this?" she cried. "He has a piece exactly like this, +the fellow to it; I remember seeing it when I was quite small. +Oh, speak! what new mystery, what new trouble is this?"</p> + +<p>"Claire, Colliver is here in London, or was but a week ago."</p> + +<p>"Here!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Claire; and it was he that murdered Thomas Loveday."</p> + +<p>"Murdered Thomas Loveday! I do not understand." She had turned +a deathly white, and spread out her hands as if for support. +"Tell me—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Claire," I said, as I stepped to her, and put my arm about her; +"it is truth, as I stand here. Colliver, your mother's husband, +foully murdered my innocent friend for the sake of that piece of +gold; and more, Simon Colliver, for the sake of this same accursed +token, murdered my father!"</p> + +<p>"Your father!"</p> + +<p>She shook off my arm, and stood facing me there, by Tom's grave, with +a look of utter horror that froze my blood.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my father; or stay, I am wrong. Though Colliver prompted, his +was not the hand that did the deed. That he left to a poor wretch +whom he afterwards slew himself—one Railton—John Railton."</p> + +<p>"What!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Claire, Claire! What is it? Speak!"</p> + +<p>"I am Janet Railton!"</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "19"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS HOW THE CURTAIN FELL UPON "FRANCESCA: A TRAGEDY."</h3><br> + +<p>For a moment I staggered back as though buffeted in the face, then, +as our eyes met and read in each other the desperate truth, I sprang +forward just in time to catch her as she fell. Blindly, as if in +some hideous trance, reeling and stumbling over the graves, I carried +her in my arms to the cemetery gate and stood there panting and +bewildered.</p> + +<p>Cold and white as marble she lay in my arms, so that for one terrible +moment I thought her dead. "Better so," my heart had cried, and then +I laughed aloud (God forgive me!) at the utter cruelty of it all. +But she was not dead. As I watched the lovely ashen face, the slow +blood came trickling back and throbbed faintly at her temples, the +light breath flickered and went and came once more. Feebly and with +wonder the dark eyes opened to the light of day, then closed again as +the lips parted in a moaning whisper.</p> + +<p>"Claire!" I cried, and my voice seemed to come from far away, so +hollow and unnatural was it, "I must take you to your home; are you +well enough to go?"</p> + +<p>I had laid her on the stone upon which the bearers were used to set +down the coffins when weary. Scarcely a week ago, poor Tom's corpse +had rested for a moment upon this grim stone. As I bent to catch the +answer, and saw how like to death her face was, I thought how well it +were for both of us, should we be resting there so together; not +leaving the acre of the dead, but entering it as rightful heirs of +its oblivion.</p> + +<p>After a while, as I repeated my question, the lips again parted and I +heard.</p> + +<p>I looked down the road. The cemetery lay far out in one of the +northern suburbs, and just now the neighbourhood seemed utterly +deserted. By good chance, however, I spied an old four-wheeler +crawling along in the distance. I ran after it, hailed it, brought +it back, and with the help of the wondering driver, placed my love +inside; then I gave the man the address, and bidding him drive with +all speed, sprang in beside Claire.</p> + +<p>Still faint, she was lying back against the cushion. The cab crawled +along at a snail's pace, but long as the journey was, it was passed +in utter silence. She never opened her eyes, and as for me, what +comfortable words could I speak? Yet as I saw the soft rise and fall +of her breast, I longed for words, Heaven knows how madly! But none +came, and in silence we drew up at length before a modest doorway in +Old Kensington.</p> + +<p>Here Claire summoned all her strength lest her mother should be +frightened. Still keeping her eyes averted, she stepped as bravely +as she could from the cab, and laid her hand upon the door-handle.</p> + +<p>I made as if to follow.</p> + +<p>"No, no," she said hastily, "leave me to myself—I will write +to-morrow and perhaps see you; but, oh, pray, not to-day!"</p> + +<p>Before I could answer she had passed into the house.</p> + +<p> +Twenty-four hours had passed and left me as they found me, in +torture. Despite my doubt, I swore she should not cast me off; then +knelt and prayed as I had never prayed before, that Heaven would deny +some of its cruelty to my darling. In the abandonment of my +supplication, I was ready to fling the secret from me and forgive +all, to forgive my father's murderer, my life-long enemy, and let him +go unsought, rather than give up Claire. Yet as I prayed, my +entreaties and my tears went up to no compassionate God, but beat +themselves upon the adamantine face of Dead Man's Rock that still +rose inexorable between me and Heaven.</p> + +<p>That night the crowd that gathered in the Coliseum to see the new +play, went away angry and disappointed; for Clarissa Lambert was not +acting. Another actress took her part—but how differently! And all +the while she, for whose sake they had come, was on her knees +wrestling with a grimmer tragedy than "Francesca," with no other +audience than the angels of pity.</p> + +<p>Twenty-four hours had passed, and found me hastening towards Old +Kensington; for in my pocket lay a note bearing only the words +"Come at 3.30—Claire," and on my heart rested a load of suspense +unbearable. For many minutes beforehand, I paced up and down outside +the house in an agony, and as my watch pointed to the half-hour, +knocked and was admitted.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Luttrell met me in the passage. She seemed most terribly white +and worn, so that I was astonished when she simply said, "Claire is +slightly unwell, and in fact could not act last night, but she wishes +to see you for some reason."</p> + +<p>Wondering why Claire's mother should look so strangely if she guessed +nothing of what had happened, but supposing illness to be the reason, +I stopped for an instant to ask.</p> + +<p>"Am I pale?" she answered. "It is nothing—nothing—do not take any +notice of it. I am rather weaker than usual to-day, that is all—a +mere nothing. You will find Claire in the drawing-room there." +And so she left me.</p> + +<p>I knocked at the drawing-room door, and hearing a faint voice inside, +entered. As I did so, Claire rose to meet me. She was very pale, +and the dark circles around her eyes told of a long vigil; but her +manner at first was composed and even cold.</p> + +<p>"Claire!" I cried, and stretched out my hands.</p> + +<p>"Not yet," she said, and motioned me to a chair. "I sent for you +because I have been thinking of—of—what happened yesterday, and I +want you to tell me all; the whole story from beginning to end."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"There is no 'but' in the case, Jasper. I am Janet Railton, and you +say that my father killed yours. Tell me how it was."</p> + +<p>Her manner was so calm that I hesitated at first, bewildered. +Then, finding that she waited for me to speak, I sat down facing her +and began my story.</p> + +<p>I told it through, without suppression or concealment, from the time +when my father started to seek the treasure, down to the cowardly +blow that had taken my friend's life. During the whole narrative she +never took her eyes from my face for more than a moment. Her very +lips were bloodless, but her manner was as quiet as though I were +reading her some story of people who had never lived. Once only she +interrupted me. I was repeating the conversation between her father +and Simon Colliver upon Dead Man's Rock.</p> + +<p>"You are quite sure," she asked, "of the words? You are positive he +said, 'Captain, it was your knife'?"</p> + +<p>"Certain," I answered sadly.</p> + +<p>"You are giving the very words they both used?"</p> + +<p>"As well as I can remember; and I have cause for a good memory."</p> + +<p>"Go on," she replied simply.</p> + +<p>So I unrolled the whole chronicle of our unhappy fates, and even read +to her Lucy Railton's letter which I had brought with me. Then, as I +ceased, for full a minute we sat in absolute silence, reading each +other's gaze.</p> + +<p>"Let me see the letter," she said, and held out her hand for it.</p> + +<p>I gave it to her. She read it slowly through and handed it back.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is my mother's letter," she said, slowly.</p> + +<p>Then again silence fell upon us. I could hear the clock tick slowly +on the mantelpiece, and the beating of my own heart that raced and +outstripped it. That was all; until at length the slow, measured +footfall of the timepiece grew maddening to hear; it seemed a symbol +of the unrelenting doom pursuing us, and I longed to rise and break +it to atoms.</p> + +<p>I could stand it no longer.</p> + +<p>"Claire, tell me that this will not—cannot alter you—that you are +mine yet, as you were before."</p> + +<p>"This is impossible," she said, very gravely and quietly.</p> + +<p>"Impossible? Oh, no, no, do not say that! You cannot, you must not +say that!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jasper," she repeated, and her face was pallid as snow; "it is +impossible."</p> + +<p>But as I heard my doom, I arose and fought it with blind despair.</p> + +<p>"Claire, you do not know what you are saying. You love me, Claire; +you have told me so, and I love you as my very soul. Surely, then, +you will not say this thing. How were we to know? How could you +have told? Oh, Claire! is it that you do not love me?"</p> + +<p>Her eyes were full of infinite compassion and tenderness, but her +lips were firm and cold.</p> + +<p>"You know that I love you."</p> + +<p>"Then, oh, my love! how can this come between us? What does it +matter that our fathers fought and killed each other, if only we +love? Surely, surely Heaven cannot fix the seal of this crime upon +us for ever? Speak, Claire, and tell me that you will be mine in +spite of all!"</p> + +<p>"It cannot be," she answered, very gently.</p> + +<p>"Cannot be!" I echoed. "Then I was right, and you do not love, but +fancied that you did for a while. Love, love, was that fair? +No power on earth—no, nor in heaven—should have made me cast you +off so."</p> + +<p>My rage died out before the mute reproach of those lovely eyes. +I caught the white hand.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, Claire; I was desperate, and knew not what I was saying. +I know you love me—you have said so, and you are truth itself; truth +and all goodness. But if you have loved, then you can love me still. +Remember our text, Claire, 'Love is strong as death.' Strong as +death, and can it be overcome so easily?"</p> + +<p>She was trembling terribly, and from the little hand within mine I +could feel her agitation. But though the soft eyes spoke appealingly +as they were raised in answer, I could see, behind all their anguish, +an immutable resolve. + +"No, Jasper; it can never be—never. Do you think I am not +suffering—that it is nothing to me to lose you? Try to think better +of me. Oh, Jasper, it is hard indeed for me, and—I love you so."</p> + +<p>"No, no," she went on; "do not make the task harder for me. Why can +you not curse me? It would be easier then. Why can you not hate me +as you ought? Oh, if you would but strike me and go, I could better +bear this hour!"</p> + +<p>There was such abandonment of entreaty in her tones that my heart +bled for her; yet I could only answer—</p> + +<p>"Claire, I will not give you up; not though you went on your knees +and implored it. Death alone can divide us now; and even death will +never kill my love."</p> + +<p>"Death!" she answered. "Think, then, that I am dead; think of me as +under the mould. Ah, love, hearts do not break so easily. You would +grieve at first, but in a little while I should be forgotten."</p> + +<p>"Claire!"</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, love; not forgotten. I wronged you when I said the +word. Believe me, Jasper, that if there be any gleam of day in the +blackness that surrounds me it is the thought that you so love me; +and yet it would have been far easier otherwise—far easier."</p> + +<p>Little by little my hope was slipping from me; but still I strove +with her as a man battles for his life. I raved, protested, called +earth and heaven to witness her cruelty; but all in vain.</p> + +<p>"It would be a sin—a horrible sin!" she kept saying. "God would +never forgive it. No, no; do not try to persuade me—it is +horrible!" and she shuddered.</p> + +<p>Utterly beaten at last by her obstinacy, I said—</p> + +<p>"I will leave you now to think it over. Let me call again and hear +that you repent."</p> + +<p>"No, love; we must never meet again. This must be our last good-bye. +Stay!" and she smiled for the first time since that meeting in the +cemetery. "Come to 'Francesca' to-night; I am going to act."</p> + +<p>"What! to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. One must live, you see, even though one suffers. See, I have +a ticket for you—for a box. You will come? Promise me."</p> + +<p>"Never, Claire."</p> + +<p>"Yes, promise me. Do me this last favour; I shall never ask +another."</p> + +<p>I took the card in silence.</p> + +<p>"And now," she said, "you may kiss me. Kiss me on the lips for the +last time, and may God bless you, my love."</p> + +<p>Quite calmly and gently she lifted her lips to mine, and on her face +was the glory of unutterable tenderness.</p> + +<p>"Claire! My love, my love!" My arms were round her, her whole form +yielded helplessly to mine, and as our lips met in that one +passionate, shuddering caress, sank on my breast.</p> + +<p>"You will not leave me?" I cried.</p> + +<p>And through her sobs came the answer—</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; it must be, it must be."</p> + +<p>Then drawing herself up, she held out her hand and said—</p> + +<p>"To-night, remember, and so—farewell."</p> + +<p>And so, in the fading light of that grey December afternoon I left +her standing there.</p> + +<p> +Mad and distraught with the passion of that parting, I sat that +evening in the shadow of my box and waited for the curtain to rise +upon "Francesca." The Coliseum was crowded to the roof, for it was +known that Clarissa Lambert's illness had been merely a slight +indisposition, and to-night she would again be acting. I was too +busy with my own hard thoughts to pay much attention at first, but I +noticed that my box was the one nearest to the stage, in the tier +next above it. So that once more I should hear my darling's voice, +and see her form close to me. Once or twice I vaguely scanned the +audience. The boxes opposite were full; but, of course, I could see +nothing of my own side of the theatre. After a moment's listless +glance, I leaned back in the shadow and waited.</p> + +<p>I do not know who composed the overture. It is haunted by one +exquisite air, repeated, fading into variations, then rising once +more only to sink into the tender sorrow of a minor key. I have +heard it but twice in my life, but the music of it is with me to this +day. Then, as I heard it, it carried me back to the hour when Tom +and I sat expectant in this same theatre, he trembling for his play's +success, I for the sight of my love. Poor Tom! The sad melody +wailed upwards as though it were the voice of the wind playing about +his grave, every note breathing pathos or suspiring in tremulous +anguish. Poor Tom! Yet your love was happier than mine; better to +die with Claire's kiss warm upon the lips than to live with but the +memory of it.</p> + +<p>The throbbing music had ended, and the play began. As before, the +audience were without enthusiasm at first, but to-night they knew +they had but to wait, and they did so patiently; so that when at last +Claire's voice died softly away at the close of her opening song, the +hushed house was suddenly shaken to its roof with the storm and +tumult of applause.</p> + +<p>There she stood, serene and glowing, as one that had never known +pain. My very eyes doubted. On her face was no sign of suffering, +no trace of a tear. Was she, then, utterly without heart? In my +memory I retraced the scene of that afternoon, and all my reason +acquitted her. Yet, as she stood there in her glorious epiphany, +illumined with the blazing lights, and radiant in the joy and +freshness of youth, I could have doubted whether, after all, Clarissa +Lambert and Claire Luttrell were one and the same.</p> + +<p>There was one thing which I did not fail, however, to note as +strange. She did not once glance in the direction of my box, but +kept her eyes steadily averted. And it then suddenly dawned upon me +that she must be playing with a purpose; but what that purpose was I +could not guess.</p> + +<p>Whatever it was, she was acting magnificently and had for the present +completely surrendered herself to her art. Grand as that art had +been on the first night of "Francesca," the power of that performance +was utterly eclipsed to-night. Once between the acts I heard two +voices in the passage outside my box—</p> + +<p>"What do you think of it?" said the first.</p> + +<p>"What can I?" answered the other. "And how can I tell you? It is +altogether above words."</p> + +<p>He was right. It was not so much admiration as awe and worship that +held the house that night. I have heard a man say since that he +wonders how the play could ever have raised anything beyond a laugh. +He should have heard the sobs that every now and then would break +uncontrollably forth, even whilst Claire was speaking. He should +have felt the hush that followed every scene before the audience +could recollect itself and pay its thunderous tribute.</p> + +<p>Still she never looked towards me, though all the while my eyes were +following my lost love. Her purpose—and somehow in my heart I grew +more and more convinced that some purpose lay beneath this +transcendent display—was waiting for its accomplishment, and in the +ringing triumph of her voice I felt it coming nearer—nearer—until +at last it came.</p> + +<p>The tragedy was nearly over. Francesca had dismissed her old lover +and his new bride from their captivity and was now left alone upon +the stage. The last expectant hush had fallen upon the house. +Then she stepped slowly forward in the dead silence, and as she spoke +the opening lines, for the first time our eyes met.</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"Here then all ends:—all love, all hate, all vows,<br> + All vain reproaches. Aye, 'tis better so.<br> + So shall he best forgive and I forget,<br> + Who else had chained him to a life-long curse,<br> + Who else had sought forgiveness, given in vain<br> + While life remained that made forgiveness dear.<br> + Far better to release him—loving more<br> + Now love denies its love and he is free,<br> + Than should it by enjoyment wreck his joy.<br> + Blighting his life for whom alone I lived.<br><br> + + "No, no. As God is just, it could not be.<br> + Yet, oh, my love, be happy in the days<br> + I may not share, with her whose present lips<br> + Usurp the rights of my lost sovranty.<br> + I would not have thee think—save now and then<br> + As in a dream that is not all a dream—<br> + On her whose love was sunshine for an hour,<br> + Then died or e'er its beams could blast thy life.<br> + Be happy and forget what might have been,<br> + Forget my dear embraces in her arms,<br> + My lips in hers, my children in her sons,<br> + While I—<br> +<span class="ind2"> Dear love, it is not hard to die</span><br> + Now once the path is plain. See, I accept<br> + And step as gladly to the sacrifice<br> + As any maid upon her bridal morn—<br> + One little stroke—one tiny touch of pain<br> + And I am quit of pain for evermore.<br> + It needs no bravery. Wert thou here to see,<br> + I would not have thee weep, but look—one stroke,<br> + And thus—"<br><br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>What was that shriek far back there in the house? What was that at +sight of which the audience rose white and aghast from their seats? +What was it that made Sebastian as he entered rush suddenly forward +and fall with awful cry before Francesca's body? What was that +trickling down the folds of her white dress? Blood?</p> + +<p>Yes, blood! In an instant I put my hand upon the cushion of the box, +vaulted down to the stage and was kneeling beside my dying love. +But as the clamorous bell rang down the curtain, I heard above its +noise a light and silvery laugh, and looking up saw in the box next +to mine the coal-black devilish eyes of the yellow woman.</p> + +<p>Then the curtain fell.</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "20"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS HOW TWO VOICES LED ME TO BOARD A SCHOONER;<br> AND WHAT BEFELL +THERE.</h3><br> + +<p>She died without speech. Only, as I knelt beside her and strove to +staunch that cruel stream of blood, her beautiful eyes sought mine in +utter love and, as the last agony shook her frame, strove to rend the +filmy veil of death and speak to me still. Then, with one long, +contented sigh, my love was dead. It was scarcely a minute before +all was over. I pressed one last kiss upon the yet warm lips, +tenderly drew her white mantle across the pallid face, and staggered +from the theatre.</p> + +<p>I had not raved or protested as I had done that same afternoon. +Fate had no power to make me feel now; the point of anguish was +passed, and in its place succeeded a numb stupidity more terrible by +far, though far more blessed.</p> + +<p>My love was dead. Then I was dead for any sensibility to suffering +that I possessed. Hatless and cloak-less I stepped out into the +freezing night air, and regardless of the curious looks of the +passing throng I turned and walked rapidly westward up the Strand. +There was a large and eager crowd outside the Coliseum, for already +the news was spreading; but something in my face made them give room, +and I passed through them as a man in a trance.</p> + +<p>The white orb of the moon was high in heaven; the frozen pavement +sounded hollow under-foot; the long street stood out, for all its +yellow gas-light, white and distinct against the clear air; but I +marked nothing of this. I went westward because my home lay +westward, and some instinct took my hurrying feet thither. I had no +purpose, no sensation. For aught I knew, that night London might +have been a city of the dead.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I halted beneath a lamp-post and began dimly to think. +My love was dead:—that was the one fact that filled my thoughts at +first, and so I strove to image it upon my brain, but could not. +But as I stood there feebly struggling with the thought another took +its place. Why should I live? Of course not; better end it all at +once—and possessed with this idea I started off once more.</p> + +<p>By degrees, as I walked, a plan shaped itself before me. I would go +home, get my grandfather's key, together with the tin box containing +my father's Journal, and then make for the river. That would be an +easy death, and I could sink for ever, before I perished, all trace +of the black secret which had pursued my life. I and the mystery +would end together—so best. Then, without pain, almost with ghastly +merriment, I thought that this was the same river which had murmured +so sweetly to my love. Well, no doubt its voice would be just as +musical over my grave. The same river:—but nearer the sea now— +nearer the infinite sea.</p> + +<p>As I reflected, the idea took yet stronger possession of me. Yes, it +was in all respects the best. The curse should end now. "Even as +the Heart of the Ruby is Blood and its Eyes a Flaming Fire, so shall +it be for them that would possess it: Fire shall be their portion and +Blood their inheritance for ever." For ever? No: the river should +wash the blood away and quench the fire. Then arose another text and +hammered at the door of my remembrance. "Many waters cannot quench +love, neither can the floods drown it." "Many waters"—"many +waters":—the words whispered appealingly, invitingly, in my ears. +"Many waters." My feet beat a tune to the words.</p> + +<p>I reached my lodgings, ran upstairs, took out the key and the tin +box, and descended again into the hall. My landlord was slipping +down the latch. He stared at seeing me.</p> + +<p>"Do not latch the door just yet: I am going out again," I said +simply.</p> + +<p>"Going out! I thought, sir, it was you as just now come in."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I must go out again:—it is important."</p> + +<p>He evidently thought me mad; and so indeed I was.</p> + +<p>"What, sir, in that dress? You've got no hat—no—"</p> + +<p>I had forgotten. "True," I said; "get me a hat and coat."</p> + +<p>He stared and then ran upstairs for them. Returning he said, "I have +got you these, sir; but I can't find them as you usually wears."</p> + +<p>"Those will do," I answered. "I must have left the others at the +theatre."</p> + +<p>This reduced him to utter speechlessness. Mutely he helped me to don +the cloak over my thin evening dress. I slipped the tin box and the +key into the pockets. As I stepped out once more into the night, my +landlord found his speech.</p> + +<p>"When will you be back, sir?"</p> + +<p>The question startled me for a moment; for a second or two I +hesitated.</p> + +<p>"I asked because you have no latch-key, as I suppose you left it in +your other coat. So that—"</p> + +<p>"It does not matter," I answered. "Do not sit up. I shall not be +back before morning;" and with that I left him still standing at the +door, and listening to my footsteps as they hurried down the street.</p> + +<p>"Before morning!" Before morning I should be in another world, if +there were another world. And then it struck me that Claire and I +might meet. She had taken her own life and so should I. But no, +no—Heaven would forgive her that; it could not condemn my saint to +the pit where I should lie: it could not be so kindly cruel; and then +I laughed a loud and bitter laugh.</p> + +<p>Still in my dull stupor I found myself nearing the river. I have not +mentioned it before, but I must explain now, that during the summer I +had purchased a boat, in which my Claire and I were used to row idly +between Streatley and Pangbourne, or whithersoever love guided our +oars. This boat, with the approach of winter, I had caused to be +brought down the river and had housed in a waterman's shed just above +Westminster, until the return of spring should bring back once more +the happy days of its employment.</p> + +<p>In my heart I blessed the chance that had stored it ready to my hand.</p> + +<p>Stumbling through dark and tortuous streets where the moon's frosty +brilliance was almost completely hidden, I came at last to the +waterman's door and knocked. He was in bed and for some time my +summons was in vain. At last I heard a sound in the room above, the +window was let down and a sulky voice said, "Who's there?"</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Bagnell?" I answered. "Come down. It is I, Mr. +Trenoweth, and I want you."</p> + +<p>There was a low cursing, a long pause broken by a muttered dispute +upstairs, and then the street door opened and Bagnell appeared with a +lantern.</p> + +<p>"Bagnell, I want my boat."</p> + +<p>"To-night, sir? And at this hour?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to-night. I want it particularly."</p> + +<p>"But it is put away behind a dozen others, and can't be got."</p> + +<p>"Never mind. I will help if you want assistance, but I must have +it."</p> + +<p>Bagnell looked at me for a minute and I could see that he was cursing +under his breath.</p> + +<p>"Is it serious, sir? You're not—"</p> + +<p>"I am not drunk, if that is what you mean, but perfectly serious, and +I must have my boat."</p> + +<p>"Won't another do as well?"</p> + +<p>"No, it will not." I felt in my pockets and found two sovereigns and +a few shillings. "Look here," I said, "I will give you two pounds if +you get this boat out for me."</p> + +<p>This conquered his reluctance. He stared for a moment as I mentioned +the amount, and then hastily deciding that I was stark mad, but that +it was none of his business, put on his hat and led the way down to +his boat-yard.</p> + +<p>Stumbling in the uncertain light over innumerable timbers, spars, and +old oars, we reached the shed at length and together managed, after +much delay, to get out the light boat and let her down to the water. +I gave him the two sovereigns as well as the few shillings that +remained in my pocket, and as I descended, reflected grimly that +after all they were better in his possession; the man who should find +my body would have so much the less spoil. We had scarcely spoken +whilst we were getting the boat out, and what words we used were +uttered in that whisper which night always enforces; but as I +clambered down (for the tide was now far out) and Bagnell passed down +the sculls, he asked—</p> + +<p>"When will you be back, sir?"</p> + +<p>The same question! I gave it the same answer. "Not before morning," +I said, and with a few strokes was out upon the tide and pulling down +the river. I saw him standing there above in the moonlight, still +wondering, until he faded in the dim haze behind. My boat was a +light Thames dingey, so that although I felt the tide running up +against me, it nevertheless made fair progress. What decided me to +pull against the tide rather than float quietly upwards I do not know +to this day. So deadened and vague was all my thought, that it +probably never occurred to me to correct the direction in which the +first few strokes had taken me. I was conscious of nothing but a row +of lights gliding past me on either hand, of here and there a tower +or tall building, that stood up for an instant against the sky and +then swam slowly out of sight, of the creaking of my sculls in the +ungreased rowlocks, and, above all, the white shimmer of the moon +following my boat as it swung downwards.</p> + +<p>I remember now that, in a childish way, I tried to escape this +persistent brilliance that still clung to my boat's side with every +stroke I took; that somehow a dull triumph possessed me when for a +moment I slipped beneath the shadow of a bridge, or crept behind a +black and silent hull. All this I can recall now, and wonder at the +trivial nature of the thought. Then I caught the scent of white +rose, and fell to wondering how it came there. There had been the +same scent in the drawing-room that afternoon, I remembered, when +Claire had said good-bye for ever. How had it followed me? +After this I set myself aimlessly to count the lights that passed, +lost count, and began again. And all the time the white glimmer hung +at my side.</p> + +<p>I was still wrapped up in my cloak, though the cape was flung back to +give my arms free play. Rowing so, I must quickly have been warm; +but I felt it no more than I had felt the cold as I walked home from +the theatre. My boat was creeping along the Middlesex shore, by the +old Temple stairs, and presently threaded its way through more +crowded channels, and passed under the blackness of London Bridge.</p> + +<p>How far below this I went, I cannot clearly call to mind; of +distance, as well as of time, I had lost all calculation. +I recollect making a circuit to avoid the press of boats waiting for +the early dawn by Billingsgate Market, and have a vision of the White +Tower against the heavens. But my next impression of any clearness +is that of rowing under the shadow of a black three-masted schooner +that lay close under shore, tilted over on her port side in the low +water. As my dingey floated out again from beneath the overhanging +hull, I looked up and saw the words, <i>Water-Witch</i>, painted in white +upon her pitch-dark bows.</p> + +<p>By this time I was among the tiers of shipping. I looked back over +my shoulder, and saw their countless masts looming up as far as eye +could see in the dim light, and their lamps flickering and wavering +upon the water. I rowed about a score of strokes, and then stopped. +Why go further? This place would serve as well as any other. No one +was likely to hear my splash as I went overboard, and even if heard +it would not be interpreted. I was still near enough to the +Middlesex bank to be out of the broad moonlight that lit up the +middle of the river. I took the tin box out of my cloak and stowed +it for a moment in the stern. I would sink it with the key before I +flung myself in. So, pulling the key out of the other pocket, I took +off the cloak, then my dress-coat and waistcoat, folded them +carefully, and placed them on the stern seat. This done, I slipped +the key into one pocket of my trousers, my watch and chain into the +other. I would do all quietly and in order, I reflected. I was +silently kicking off my shoes, when a thought struck me. In my last +struggles it was possible that the desire of life would master me, +and almost unconsciously I might take to swimming. In the old days +at Lizard Town swimming had been as natural to me as walking, and I +had no doubt that as soon as in the water I should begin to strike +out. Could I count upon determination enough to withhold my arms and +let myself slowly drown?</p> + +<p>Here was a difficulty; but I resolved to make everything sure. +I took my handkerchief out of the coat pocket, and bent down to tie +my feet firmly together. All this I did quite calmly and +mechanically. As far as one can be certain of anything at this +distance of time, I am certain of this, that no thought of hesitation +came into my head. It was not that I overcame any doubts; they never +occurred to me.</p> + +<p>I was stooping down, and had already bound the handkerchief once +around my ankles, when my boat grated softly against something. +I looked up, and saw once more above me a dark ship's hull, and right +above my head the white letters, <i>Water-Witch</i>.</p> + +<p>This would never do. My boat had drifted up the river again with the +tide, stern foremost, but a little aslant, and had run against the +warp by the schooner's bows. I must pull out again, for otherwise +the people on board would hear me. I pushed gently off from the warp +and took the sculls, when suddenly I heard voices back towards the +stern.</p> + +<p>My first impulse was to get away with all speed, and I had already +taken half a stroke, when something caused my hands to drop and my +heart to give one wild leap.</p> + +<p>What was it? Something in the voices? Yes; something that brushed +my stupor from me as though it were a cobweb; something that made me +hush my breath, and strain with all my ears to listen.</p> + +<p>The two voices were those of man and woman, They were slightly +raised, as if in a quarrel; the woman's pleading and entreating, the +man's threatening and stern. But that was not the reason that +suddenly set my heart uncontrollably beating and all the blood +rushing and surging to my temples.</p> + +<p>For in those two voices I recognised Mrs. Luttrell and Simon +Colliver!</p> + +<p>"Have you not done enough?" the woman's voice was saying. "Has your +cruelty no end, that you must pursue me so? Take this money, and let +me go."</p> + +<p>"I must have more," was the answer.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I have no more just now. Go, only go, and I will send you +some. I swear it."</p> + +<p>"I cannot go," said the man.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind. I am watched." Here the voice muttered some words +which I could not catch. "So that unless you wish to see your +husband swing—and believe me, my confession and last dying speech +would not omit to mention the kind aid I had received from you and +Clar-"</p> + +<p>"Hush! oh, hush! If I get you this money, will you leave us in peace +for a time? Knowing your nature, I will not ask for pity—only for a +short respite. I must tell Claire, poor girl; she does not know +yet—"</p> + +<p>Quite softly my boat had drifted once more across the schooner's +bows. I pulled it round until its nose touched the anchor chain, and +made the painter fast. Then slipping my hand up the chain, I stood +with my shoeless feet upon the gunwale by the bows. Still grasping +the chain, I sprang and swung myself out to the jib-boom that, with +the cant of the vessel, was not far above the water: then pressed my +left foot in between the stay and the brace, while I hung for a +moment to listen.</p> + +<p>They had not heard, for I could still catch the murmur of their +voices. The creak of the jib-boom and the swish of my own boat +beneath had frightened me at first. It seemed impossible that it +should not disturb them. But after a moment my courage returned, and +I pulled myself up on to the bowsprit, and lying almost at full +length along it, for fear of being spied, crawled slowly along, and +dropped noiselessly on to the deck.</p> + +<p>They were standing together by the mizzen-mast, he with his back +turned full towards me, she less entirely averted, so that I could +see a part of her face in the moonlight, and the silvery gleam of her +grey hair. Yes, it was they, surely enough; and they had not seen +me. My revenge, long waited for, was in my grasp at last.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as I stood there watching them, I remembered my knife—the +blade which had slain my father. I had left it below—fool that I +was!—in the tin box. Could I creep back again, and return without +attracting their attention? Should I hazard the attempt for the sake +of planting that piece of steel in Simon Colliver's black heart?</p> + +<p>It was a foolish thought, but my whole soul was set upon murder now, +and the chance of slaying him with the very knife left in my father's +wound seemed too dear to be lightly given up. Most likely he was +armed now, whilst I had no weapon but the naked hand. Yet I did not +think of this. It never even occurred to me that he would defend +himself. Still, the thought of that knife was sweet to me as I +crouched there beneath the shadow of the bulwarks. Should I go, or +not? I paused for a moment, undecided; then rose slowly erect.</p> + +<p>As I did so Mrs. Luttrell turned for an instant and saw me.</p> + +<p>As I stood there, bareheaded, with the moonlight shining full upon my +white shirt-sleeves, I must have seemed a very ghost; for a look of +abject terror swept across her face; her voice broke off and both her +hands were flung up for mercy—</p> + +<p>"Oh, God! Look! look!"</p> + +<p>As I rushed forward he turned, and then, with the spring of a wild +cat, was upon me. Even as he leapt, my foot slipped upon the greasy +deck; I staggered backward one step—two steps—and then fell with a +crash down the unguarded forecastle ladder.</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "21"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER X.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS IN WHAT MANNER I LEARNT THE SECRET OF THE GREAT KEY.</h3><br> + +<p>As my senses came gradually back I could distinguish a narrow, dingy +cabin, dimly lit by one flickering oil-lamp which swung from a rafter +above. Its faint ray just revealed the furniture of the room, which +consisted of a seaman's chest standing in the middle, and two gaunt +stools. On one of these I was seated, propped against the cabin +wall, or rather partition, and as I attempted to move I learnt that I +was bound hand and foot.</p> + +<p>On the other stool opposite me and beside the chest, sat Simon +Colliver, silently eyeing me. The lamplight as it flared and +wavered cast grotesque and dancing shadows of the man upon the wall +behind, made of his matted hair black eaves under which his eyes +gleamed red as fire, and glinted lastly upon something bright lying +on the chest before him.</p> + +<p>For a minute or so after my eyes first opened no word was said. +Still dizzy with my fall, I stared for a moment at the man, then at +the chest, and saw that the bright objects gleaming there were my +grandfather's key and my watch-chain, at the end of which hung the +Golden Clasp. But now the clasp was fitted to its fellow and the +whole buckle lay united upon the board.</p> + +<p>Though the bonds around my arms, wrists, and ankles caused me +intolerable pain, yet my first feeling was rather of abject +humiliation. To be caught thus easily, to be lying here like any +rat in a gin! this was the agonising thought. Nor was this all. +There on the chest lay the Golden Clasp united at last—the work +completed which was begun with that unholy massacre on board the +<i>Belle Fortune</i>. I had played straight into Colliver's hand.</p> + +<p>He was in no hurry, but sat and watched me there with those +intolerably evil eyes. His left hand was thrust carelessly into his +pocket, and as he tilted back upon the stool and surveyed me, his +right was playing with the clasp upon the chest. As I painfully +turned my head a drop of blood came trickling down into my eyes from +a cut in my forehead; I saw, however, that the door was bolted. +An empty bottle and a plate of broken victuals lay carelessly thrust +in a corner, and a villainous smell from the lamp filled the whole +room and almost choked me; but the only sound in the dead stillness +of the place was the monotonous tick-tick of my watch as it lay upon +the chest.</p> + +<p>How long I had lain there I could not guess, but I noticed that the +floor slanted much less than when I first scrambled on deck, so +guessed that the tide must have risen considerably. Then having +exhausted my wonder I looked again at Colliver, and began to +speculate how he would kill me and how long he would take about it.</p> + +<p>I found his wolfish eyes still regarding me, and for a minute or two +we studied each other in silence. Then without removing his gaze he +tilted his stool forward, slowly drew a short heavy knife from his +waist-band, slipped it out of its sheath—still without taking his +left hand from his pocket—laid it on the table and leant back again.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," he said at last and very deliberately as if chewing his +words, "you know that if you attempt to cry out or summon help, you +are a dead man that instant."</p> + +<p>"Well, well," he continued, after waiting a moment for my reply, +"as long as you understand that, it does not matter. I confess I +should have preferred to talk with you and not merely to you. +However, before I kill you—and I suppose you guess that I am going +to kill you as soon as I've done with you—I wish to have just a +word, Master Jasper Trenoweth."</p> + +<p>From the tone in which he said the words he might have been +congratulating me on some great good fortune. He paused awhile as if +to allow the full force of them to sink in, and then took up the +Golden Clasp. Holding the pieces together with the fore-finger and +thumb of his right hand, he advanced and thrust it right under my +sight—</p> + +<p>"Do you see that? Can you read it?"</p> + +<p>As I was still mute he walked back to the chest and laid the clasp +down again.</p> + +<p>"Aha!" he exclaimed with a short laugh horrible to hear, "you won't +speak. But there have been times, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth, when you +would have given your soul to lay hands upon this piece of gold and +read what is written upon it. It is a pity your hands are tied—a +thousand pities. But I do not wish to be hard on you, and so I don't +mind reading out what is written here. The secret will be safe with +you, don't you see? Quite—safe—with—you."</p> + +<p>He rolled out these last words, one by one, with infinite relish; and +the mockery in the depths of those eyes seared me far more than my +bonds. After watching the effect of his taunt he resumed his seat +upon the stool, pulled the clasp towards him and said—</p> + +<p>"People might call me rash for entrusting these confidences to you. +But I do not mind admitting that I owe you some reparation—some +anterior reparation. So, as I don't wish you to die cursing me, I +will be generous. Listen!"</p> + +<p>He held the buckle down upon the table and read out the inscription +as follows:—</p> + + + +<center> +<table> + <tr> + <td>START </td> + <td>AT</td> + <td>FULL</td> + <td>MOON</td> + <td>END</td> + <td>SOUTH</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>POINT</td> + <td>27</td> + <td>FEET</td> + <td>N.N.W.</td> + <td>22</td> + <td>FEET.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>W.</td> + <td>OF</td> + <td>RING</td> + <td>NORTH </td> + <td>SIDE </td> + <td>4</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>FEET</td> + <td>6</td> + <td>INCHES </td> + <td>DEEP</td> + <td>AT</td> + <td>POINT</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td>OF</td> + <td>MEETING  </td> + <td>LOW</td> + <td>WATER</td> + <td>1.5</td> + <td>HOURS</td> + + </tr> + +</table> +</center> + +<p>He read it through twice very slowly, and each time as he ceased +looked up to see how I took it.</p> + +<p>"It does not seem to make much sense, does it?" he asked. "But wait +a moment and let me parcel it out into sentences. I should not like +you to miss any of its meaning. Listen again." He divided the +writing up thus:—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"Start at full moon.<br> + End South Point 27 feet N.N.W.<br> + 22 feet W. of Ring. North Side.<br> + 4 feet 6 inches deep at point of meeting.<br> + Low water 1.5 hours."<br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> +<p>"You still seem puzzled, Mr. Trenoweth. Very well, I will even go on +to explain further. The person who engraved this clasp meant to tell +us that something—let us say treasure, for sake of argument—could +be found by anyone who drew two lines from some place unknown: one 27 +feet in length in direction N.N.W. from the South Point of that +place; the other 22 feet due West of a certain Ring on the North +side of that same place. So far I trust I make my meaning clear. +That which we have agreed to call the treasure lies buried at a depth +of 4 feet 6 inches on the spot where these two lines intersect. +But the person (you or I, for the sake of argument) who seeks this +treasure must start at full moon. Why? Obviously because the spring +tides occur with a full moon, consequently the low ebb. We must +expect, then, to find our treasure buried in a spot which is only +uncovered at dead low water; and to this conclusion I am also helped +by the last sentence, which says, 'Low water 1.5 hours.' It is then, +I submit, Mr. Trenoweth, in some such place that we must look for our +treasure; the only question being, 'Where is that place?'"</p> + +<p>I was waiting for this, and a great tide of joy swept over me as I +reflected that after all he had not solved the mystery. The clasp +told nothing, the key told nothing. The secret was safe as yet.</p> + +<p>He must have read my thoughts, for he looked steadily at me out of +those dark eyes of his, and then said very slowly and deliberately—</p> + +<p>"Mr. Trenoweth, it grieves me to taunt your miserable case; but do +you mind my saying that you are a fool?"</p> + +<p>I simply stared in answer.</p> + +<p>"Your father was a fool—a pitiful fool; and you are a fool. +Which would lead me, did I not know better, to believe that your +grandfather, Amos Trenoweth, was a fool also. I should wrong him if +I called him that. He was a villain, a black-hearted, murderous, +cold-blooded, damnable villain; but he was only a fool for once in +his life, and that was when he trusted in the sense of his +descendants."</p> + +<p>His voice, as he spoke of my grandfather, grew suddenly shrill and +discordant, while his eyes blazed up in furious wrath. In a second +or two, however, he calmed himself again and went on quietly as +before.</p> + +<p>"You wonder, perhaps, why I call you a fool. It is because you have +lived for fourteen years with your hand upon riches that would make a +king jealous, and have never had the sense to grasp them; it is +because you have shut your eyes when you might have seen, have been a +beggar when you might have ridden in a carriage. Upon my word, Mr. +Jasper Trenoweth, when I think of your folly I have half a mind to be +dog-sick with you myself."</p> + +<p>What could the man mean? What was this clue which I had never found?</p> + +<p>"And all the time it was written upon this key here, as large as +life; not only that, but, to leave you no excuse, Amos Trenoweth +actually told you that it was written here."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" stammered I, forced into speech at last.</p> + +<p>"Ah! so you have found your voice, have you? What do I mean? Do you +mean to say you do not guess even now? Upon my word, I am loth to +kill so fair a fool." He regarded me for a moment with pitying +contempt, then stretched out his hand and took up my grandfather's +key.</p> + +<p>"I read here," he said, "written very clearly and distinctly, certain +words. You must know those words; but I will repeat them to you to +refresh your memory:—"</p> + +<p> "THY HOUSE IS SET UPON THE SANDS. AND THY HOPES BY A DEAD MAN."</p> + +<p>"Well?" I asked, for—fool that I was—even yet I did not understand.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Jasper Trenoweth, did you ever hear tell of such a place as Dead +Man's Rock?"</p> + +<p>The truth, the whole horrible certainty of it, struck me as one great +wave, and rushed over my bent head as with the whirl and roar of many +waters. "Dead Man's Rock!" "Dead Man's Rock!" it sang in my ears as +it swept me off my feet for a moment and passed, leaving me to sink +and battle in the gulf of bottomless despair. And then, as if I +really drowned, my past life with all its follies, mistakes, wrecked +hopes and baseless dreams, shot swiftly past in one long train. +Again I saw my mother's patient, anxious smile, my father's drowned +face with the salt drops trickling from his golden hair, the struggle +on the rock, the inquest, the awful face at the window, the corpses +of my parents stretched side by side upon the bed, the scene in the +gambling-hell with all its white and desperate faces, Claire, my lost +love, the river, the theatre, Tom's death, and that last dreadful +scene, Francesca with the dark blood soaking her white dress and +trickling down upon the boards. I tried to put my hands before my +eyes, but the cords held and cut my arms like burning steel. Then in +a flash I seemed to be striding madly up and down Oxford Street, +while still in front of me danced and flew the yellow woman, her +every diamond flashing in the gas-light, her cold black eyes, as they +turned and mocked me, blazing marsh-lights of doom. Then came the +ringing of many bells in my ears, mingled with silvery laughter, as +though the fiends were ringing jubilant peals within the pit.</p> + +<p>Presently the sights grew dim and died away, but the chiming laughter +still continued.</p> + +<p>I looked up. It was Colliver laughing, and his face was that of an +arch-devil.</p> + +<p>"It does me good to see you," he explained; "oh, yes, it is honey to +my soul. Fool! and a thousand times fool! that ever I should have +lived to triumph thus over you and your accursed house!"</p> + +<p>Once more his voice grew shrill and his eyes flashed; once more he +collected himself.</p> + +<p>"You shall hear it out," he said. "Look here!" and he pulled a +greasy book from his pocket. "Here is a nautical almanack. What day +is it? December 23rd, or rather some time in the morning of December +24th, Christmas Eve. On the evening of December 24th it is full +moon, and dead low water at Falmouth about 11.30 p.m. Fate (do you +believe in fate, Mr. Trenoweth?) could not have chosen the time +better. In something under twenty hours one of us will have his +hands upon the treasure. Which will it be, eh? Which will it be?"</p> + +<p>Well I knew which it would be, and the knowledge was bitter as gall.</p> + +<p>"A merry Christmas, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth! Peace on earth and +good-will—You will bear no malice by that time. So a merry +Christmas, and a merry Christmas-box! likewise the compliments of the +season, and a happy New Year to you! Where are you going to spend +Christmas, Mr. Trenoweth—eh? I am thinking of passing it by the +sea. You will, perhaps, try the sea too, only you will be <i>in</i> it. +Thames runs swiftly when it has a corpse for cargo. Oho!</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"At his red, red lips the merrymaid sips<br> + For the kiss that his sweetheart stole, my lads—<br> +<span class="ind2">Sing ho! for the bell shall toll!</span><br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>"I'm afraid no bell will toll for you, Mr. Trenoweth; not yet awhile +at any rate. Not till your sweetheart is weary of waiting—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"And the devil has got his due, my lads—<br> +<span class="ind2">Sing ho! but he waits for you!</span><br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>"Both waiting for you, Mr. Trenoweth, your sweetheart and the devil— +which shall have you? 'Ladies first,' you would say. Aha! I am not +so sure. By the way, might I give a guess at your sweetheart's name? +Might it begin with a C? Might she be a famous actress? Claire +perhaps she calls herself? Aha! Claire's pretty eyes will go red +with watching before she sets them on you again. Fie on you to keep +so sweet a maiden waiting! And where will you be all the time, Mr. +Jasper Trenoweth?"</p> + +<p>He stopped at last, mastered by his ferocity and almost panting. But +I, for the sound of Claire's name had maddened me, broke out in +fury—</p> + +<p>"Dog and devil! I shall be lying with all the other victims of your +accursed life; dead as my father whom you foully murdered within +sight of his home; dead as those other poor creatures you slew upon +the <i>Belle Fortune</i>; dead as my mother whose pure mind fled at sight +of your infernal face, whose very life fled at sight of your +handiwork; dead as John Railton whom you stabbed to death upon—"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Mr. Trenoweth! As for your ravings, I love to hear them, and +could listen by the hour, did not time press. But I cannot have you +talking so loudly, you understand;" and he toyed gently with his +knife; "also remember I must be at Dead Man's Rock by half-past +eleven to-night."</p> + +<p>"Fiend!" I continued, "you can kill me if you like, but I will count +your crimes with my last breath. Take my life as you took my friend +Tom Loveday's life—Tom whom you knifed in the dark, mistaking him +for me. Take it as you took Claire's, if ever man—"</p> + +<p>"Claire—Claire dead!" He staggered back a step, and almost at the +same moment I thought I caught a sound on the other side of the +partition at my back. I listened for a moment, then concluding that +my ears had played me some trick, went on again—</p> + +<p>"Yes, dead—she killed herself to-night at the theatre—stabbed +herself—oh, God! Do you think I care for your knife now? +Why, I was going to kill myself, to drown myself, at the very moment +when I heard your voice and came on board. I came to kill you. +Make the most of it—show me no mercy, for as there is a God in +heaven I would have shown you none!"</p> + +<p>What was that sound again on the other side of the partition? +Whatever it was, Colliver had not heard, for he was musing darkly and +looking fixedly at me.</p> + +<p>"No, I will show you no mercy," he answered quietly, "for I have +sworn to show no mercy to your race, and you are the last of it. +But listen, that for a few moments before you die you may shake off +your smug complacency and learn what this wealth is, and what kind of +brood you Trenoweths are. Dog! The treasure that lies by Dead Man's +Rock is treasure weighted with dead men's curses and stained with +dead men's blood—wealth won by black piracy upon the high seas—gold +for which many a poor soul walked the plank and found his end in the +deep waters. It is treasure sacked from many a gallant ship, +stripped from many a rotting corpse by that black hound your +grandfather, Amos Trenoweth. You guessed that? Let me tell you +more.</p> + +<p>"There is many a soul crying in heaven and hell for vengeance on your +race; but your death to-night, Jasper Trenoweth, shall be the +peculiar joy of one. You guessed that your grandfather had crimes +upon his soul; but you did not guess the blackest crime on his +account—the murder of his dearest friend. Listen. I will be brief +with you, but I cannot spare myself the joy of letting you know this +much before you die. Know then that when your grandfather was a rich +man by this friend's aid—after, with this friend's help, he had laid +hands on the secret of the Great Ruby for which for many a year he +had thirsted, in the moment of his triumph he turned and slew that +friend in order to keep the Ruby to himself.</p> + +<p>"That fool, your father, kept a Journal—which no doubt you have read +over and over again. Did he tell you how I caught him upon Adam's +Peak, sitting with this clasp in his hands before a hideous, graven +stone? That stone was cut in ghastly mockery of that friend's face; +the bones that lay beneath it were the bones of that friend. +There, on that very spot where I met your father face to face, did +his father, Amos Trenoweth, strike down my father Ralph Colliver.</p> + +<p>"Ah, light is beginning to dawn on your silly brain at last! +Yes, pretending to protect the old priest who had the Ruby, he +stabbed my father with the very knife found in your father's heart, +stabbed him before his wife's eyes on that little lawn upon the +mountain-side; and, when my helpless mother called vengeance upon +him, handed the still reeking knife to her and bade her do her worst. +Ah, but she kept that knife. Did you mark what was engraved upon the +blade? That knife had a good memory, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth.</p> + +<p>"Let me go on. As if that deed were not foul enough, he caused the +old priest to carve—being skilful with the chisel—that vile +distortion of his dead friend's face out of a huge boulder lying by, +and then murdered him too for the Ruby's sake, and tumbled their +bodies into the trough together. Such was Amos Trenoweth. Are you +proud of your descent?</p> + +<p>"I never saw my father. I was not born until three months after +this, and not until I was ten years old did my mother tell me of his +fate.</p> + +<p>"Your grandfather was a fool, Jasper Trenoweth, to despise her; for +she was young then and she could wait. She was beautiful then, and +Amos Trenoweth himself had loved her. What is she now? Speak, for +you have seen her."</p> + +<p>As he spoke I seemed to see again that yellow face, those awful, +soulless eyes, and hear her laugh as she gazed down from the box upon +my dying love.</p> + +<p>"Ah, beauty goes. It went for ever on that day when Amos Trenoweth +spat in her face and taunted her as she clung to the body of her +husband. Beauty goes, but revenge can wait; to-night it has come; +to-night a thousand dead men's ghosts shall be glad, and point at +your body as it goes tossing out to sea. To-night—but let me tell +the rest in a word or two, for time presses. How I was brought up, +how my mad mother—for she is mad on every point but one—trained me +to the sea, how I left it at length and became an attorney's clerk, +all this I need not dwell upon. But all this time the thought of +revenge never left me for an hour; and if it had, my mother would +have recalled it.</p> + +<p>"Well, we settled in Plymouth and I was bound a clerk to your +grandfather's attorney, still with the same purpose. There I learnt +of Amos Trenoweth's affairs, but only to a certain extent; for of the +wealth which he had so bloodily won I could discover nothing; and yet +I knew he possessed riches which make the heart faint even to think +upon. Yet for all I could discover, his possessions were simply +those of a struggling farmer, his business absolutely nothing. +I was almost desperate, when one day a tall, gaunt and aged man +stepped into the office, asked for my employer, and gave the name of +Amos Trenoweth. Oh, how I longed to kill him as he stood there! +And how little did he guess that the clerk of whom he took no more +notice than of a stone, would one day strike his descendants off the +face of the earth and inherit the wealth for which he had sold his +soul—the great Ruby of Ceylon!</p> + +<p>"My voice trembled with hate as I announced him and showed him into +the inner room. Then I closed the door and listened. He was uneasy +about his Will—the fool—and did not know that all his possessions +would necessarily become his son's. In my heart I laughed at his +ignorance; but I learnt enough—enough to wait patiently for years +and finally to track Ezekiel Trenoweth to his death.</p> + +<p>"It was about this time that I fell in love. In this as in +everything through life I have been cursed with the foulest luck, but +in this as in everything else my patience has won in the end. Lucy +Luttrell loved another man called Railton—John Railton. He was +another fool—you are all fools—but she married him and had a +daughter. I wonder if you can guess who that daughter was?"</p> + +<p>He broke off and looked at me with fiendish malice.</p> + +<p>"You hound!" I cried, "she was Janet Railton—Claire Luttrell; and +you murdered her father as you say Amos Trenoweth murdered yours."</p> + +<p>"Right," he answered coolly. "Quite right. Oh, the arts by which I +enticed that man to drink and then to crime! Even now I could sit +and laugh over them by the hour. Why, man, there was not a touch of +guile in the fellow when I took him in hand, and yet it was he that +afterwards took your father's life. He tried it once in Bombay and +bungled it sadly: he did it neatly enough, though, on the jib-boom of +the <i>Belle Fortune</i>. I lent him the knife: I would have done it +myself, but Railton was nearer; and besides it is always better to be +a witness."</p> + +<p>What <i>was</i> that rustling sound behind the partition? Colliver did +not hear it, at any rate, but went on with his tale, and though his +eyes were dancing flames of hate his voice was calm now as ever.</p> + +<p>"I had stolen half the clasp beforehand from the cabin floor where +that stupendous idiot, Ezekiel Trenoweth, had dropped it. Railton +caught him before he dropped, but I did not know he had time to get +the box away, for just then a huge wave broke over us and before the +next we both jumped for the Rock. I thought that Railton must have +been sucked back, for I only clung on myself by the luckiest chance. +It was pitch-dark and impossible to see. I called his name, but he +either could not hear for the roar, or did not choose to answer, so +after a bit I stopped. I thought him dead, and he no doubt thought +me dead, until we met upon Dead Man's Rock.</p> + +<p>"Shall I finish? Oh, yes, you shall hear the whole story. After the +inquest I escaped back to Plymouth, told Lucy that her husband had +been drowned at sea, and finally persuaded her to leave Plymouth and +marry me. So I triumphed there, too: oh, yes, I have triumphed +throughout."</p> + +<p>"You hound!" I cried.</p> + +<p>He laughed a low musical laugh and went on again—</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, you are angry of course; but I let that pass. I have one +account to settle with you Trenoweths, and that is enough for me. +Three times have I had you in my power, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth—three +times or four—and let you escape. Once beneath Dead Man's Rock when +I had my fingers on your young weasand and was stopped by those +cursed fishermen. Idiots that they were, they thought the sight of +me had frightened you and made you faint. Faint! You would have +been dead in another half-minute. How I laughed in my sleeve while +that uncle of yours was trying to make me understand—me—what was my +name then?—oh, ay, Georgio Rhodojani. However, you escaped that +time: and once more you hardly guessed how near you were to death, +when I looked in at the window on the night after the inquest. +Why, in my mind I was tossing up whether or not I should murder you +and your white-faced mother. I should have done so, but thought you +might hold some knowledge of the secret after your meeting with +Railton, so that it seemed better to bide my time."</p> + +<p>"If it be any satisfaction to you," I interrupted, "to know that had +you killed me then you would never have laid hands on that clasp +yonder, you are welcome to it."</p> + +<p>"It is," he answered. "I am glad I did not kill you both: it left +your mother time to see her dead husband, and has given me the +pleasure of killing you now: the treat improves with keeping. +Well, let me go on. After that I was forced to leave the country for +some time—"</p> + +<p>"For another piece of villainy, which your wife discovered."</p> + +<p>"How do you know that? Oh, from Claire, I suppose: however, it does +not matter. When I came back I found you: found you, and struck +again. But again my cursed luck stood in my way and that damned +friend of yours knocked me senseless. Look at this mark on my +cheek."</p> + +<p>"Look at the clasp and you will see where your blow was struck."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that was it, was it?" he said, examining the clasp slowly. +"I suppose you thought it lucky at the time. So it was—for me. +For, though I made another mistake in the fog that night, I got quits +with your friend at any rate. I have chafed often enough at these +failures, but it has all come right in the end. I ought to have +killed your father upon Adam's Peak; but he was a big man, while I +had no pistol and could not afford to risk a mistake. Everything, +they say, comes to the man who can wait. Your father did not escape, +neither will you, and when I think of the joy it was to me to know +that you and Claire, of all people—"</p> + +<p>But I would hear no more. Mad as I was with shame and horror for my +grandfather's cruelty, I knew this man, notwithstanding his talk of +revenge, to be a vile and treacherous scoundrel. So when he spoke of +Claire I burst forth—</p> + +<p>"Dog, this is enough! I have listened to your tale. But when you +talk of Claire—Claire whom you killed to-night—then, dog, I spit +upon you; kill me, and I hope the treasure may curse you as it has +cursed me; kill me; use your knife, for I <i>will</i> shout—"</p> + +<p>With a dreadful snarl he was on me and smote me across the face. +Then as I continued to call and shout, struck me one fearful blow +behind the ear. I remember that the dim lamp shot out a streak of +blood-red flame, the cabin was lit for one brief instant with a flash +of fire, a thousand lights darted out, and then—then came utter +blackness—a vague sensation of being caught up and carried, of +plunging down—down—</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<p><a name = "22"></a> </p> +<h3>CHAPTER XI. AND LAST.</h3> + +<h3> +TELLS HOW AT LAST I FOUND MY REVENGE AND THE GREAT RUBY.</h3> + +<p>"Speak—speak to me! Oh, look up and tell me you are not dead!"</p> + +<p>Down through the misty defiles and dark gates of the Valley of the +Shadow of Death came these words faintly as though spoken far away. +So distant did they seem that my eyes opened with vague expectation +of another world; opened and then wearily closed again.</p> + +<p>For at first they stared into a heaven of dull grey, with but a +shadow between them and colourless space. Then they opened once +more, and the shadow caught their attention. What was it? Who was +I, and how came I to be staring upward so? I let the problem be and +fell back into the easeful lap of unconsciousness.</p> + +<p>Then the voice spoke again. "He is living yet," it said. "Oh, if he +would but speak!"</p> + +<p>This time I saw more distinctly. Two eyes were looking into mine—a +woman's eyes. Where had I seen that face before? Surely I had known +it once, in some other world. Then somehow over my weary mind stole +the knowledge that this was Mrs. Luttrell—or was it Claire? +No, Claire was dead. "Claire—dead," I seemed to repeat to myself; +but how dead or where I could not recall. "Claire—dead;" then this +must be her mother, and I, Jasper Trenoweth, was lying here with +Claire's mother bending over me. How came we so? What had happened, +that—and once more the shadow of oblivion swept down and enfolded +me.</p> + +<p>She was still there, kneeling beside me, chafing my hands and every +now and then speaking words of tender solicitude. How white her hair +was! It used not to be so white as this. And where was I lying? +In a boat? How my head was aching!</p> + +<p>Then remembrance came back. Strange to tell, it began with Claire's +death in the theatre, and thence led downwards in broken and +interrupted train until Colliver's face suddenly started up before +me, and I knew all.</p> + +<p>I raised myself on my elbow. My brain was throbbing intolerably, and +every pulsation seemed to shoot fire into my temples. Also other +bands of fire were clasped about my arms and wrists. So acutely did +they burn that I fell back with a low moan and looked helplessly at +Mrs. Luttrell.</p> + +<p>Although it had been snowing, her bonnet was thrust back from her +face and hung by its ribbons which were tied beneath her chin. +The breeze was playing with her disordered hair—hair now white as +the snow-flakes upon it, though grey when last I had seen it—but it +brought no colour to her face. As she bent over me to place her +shawl beneath my head, I saw that her blue eyes were strangely bright +and prominent.</p> + +<p>"Thank God, you are alive! Does the bandage pain you? Can you +move?"</p> + +<p>I feebly put my hand up and felt a handkerchief bound round my head.</p> + +<p>"I was afraid—oh, so afraid!—that I had been too late. Yet God +only knows how I got down into your boat—in time—and without his +seeing me. I knew what he would do—I was listening behind the +partition all the time; but I was afraid he would kill you first."</p> + +<p>"Then—you heard?"</p> + +<p>"I heard all. Oh, if I were only a man—but can you stand? Are you +better now? For we must lose no time."</p> + +<p>I weakly stared at her in answer.</p> + +<p>"Don't you see? If you can stand and walk, as I pray you can, there +is no time to be lost. Morning is already breaking, and by this +evening you must catch him."</p> + +<p>"Catch him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes. He has gone—gone to catch the first train for Cornwall, +and will be at Dead Man's Rock to-night. Quick! see if you cannot +rise."</p> + +<p>I sat up. The water had dripped from me, forming a great pool at our +end of the boat. In it she was kneeling, and beside her lay a heavy +knife and the cords with which Simon Colliver had bound me.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said, "I will follow. When does the first train leave +Paddington?"</p> + +<p>"At a quarter past nine," she answered, "and it is now about +half-past five. You have time to catch it; but must disguise +yourself first. He will travel by it, there is no train before. +Come, let me row you ashore."</p> + +<p>With this she untied the painter, got out the sculls, sat down upon +the thwart opposite, and began to pull desperately for shore. +I wondered at her strength and skill with the oar.</p> + +<p>"Ah," she said, "I see at what you are wondering. Remember that I +was a sailor's wife once, and without strength how should I have +dragged you on board this boat?"</p> + +<p>"How did you manage it?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot tell. I only know that I heard a splash as I waited under +the bows there, and then began with my hands to fend the boat around +the schooner for dear life. I had to be very silent. At first I +could see nothing, for it was dark towards the shore; but I cried to +Heaven to spare you for vengeance on that man, and then I saw +something black lying across the warp, and knew it was you. I gave a +strong push, then rushed to the bows and caught you by the hair. +I got you round by the stern as gently as I could, and then pulled +you on board somehow—I cannot remember exactly how I did it."</p> + +<p>"Did he see you?"</p> + +<p>"No, for he must have gone below directly. I rowed under the shadow +of the lighter to which we were tied just now, and as I did so, +thought I heard him calling me by name. He must have forgotten me, +and then suddenly remembered that as yet I had not given him the +money. However, presently I heard him getting into his boat and +rowing ashore. He came quite close to us—so close that I could hear +him cursing, and crouched down in the shadow for fear of my life. +But he passed on, and got out at the steps yonder. It was snowing at +the time and that helped me."</p> + +<p>She pulled a stroke or two in silence, and then continued—</p> + +<p>"When you were in the cabin together I was listening. At one point I +think I must have fainted; but it cannot have been for long, for when +I came to myself you were still talking about—about John Railton."</p> + +<p>I remembered the sound which I had heard, and almost in spite of +myself asked, "You heard about—"</p> + +<p>"Claire? Yes, I heard." She nodded simply; but her eyes sought mine, +and in them was a gleam that made me start.</p> + +<p>Just then the boat touched at a mouldering flight of stairs, crusted +with green ooze to high-water mark, and covered now with snow. +She made fast the boat.</p> + +<p>"This was the way he went," she muttered. "Track him, track him to +his death; spare him no single pang to make that death miserable!" +Her low voice positively trembled with concentrated hate. +"Stay," she said, "have you money?"</p> + +<p>I suddenly remembered that I had given all the money on me to Bagnell +for getting out my boat, and told her so. At the same moment, too, +I thought upon the tin box still lying under the boat's stern. +I stepped aft and pulled it out.</p> + +<p>"Here is money," she said; "money that I was to have given him. +Fifty pounds it is, in notes—take it all."</p> + +<p>"But you?" I hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Never mind me. Take it—take it all. What do I want with money if +only you kill him?"</p> + +<p>I bent and kissed her hand.</p> + +<p>"As Heaven is my witness," I said, "it shall be his life or mine. +The soul of one of us shall never see to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Her hand was as cold as ice, and her pale face never changed.</p> + +<p>"Kill him!" she said, simply.</p> + +<p>I turned, and climbed the steps. By this time day had broken, and +the east was streaked with angry flushes of crimson. The wind swept +through my dripping clothes and froze my aching limbs to the marrow. +Up the river came floating a heavy pall of fog, out of which the +masts showed like grisly skeletons. The snow-storm had not quite +ceased, and a stray flake or two came brushing across my face. +So dawned my Christmas Eve!</p> + +<p>As I gained the top, I turned to look down. She was still standing +there, watching me. Seeing me look, she waved her arms, and I heard +her hoarse whisper, "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!"</p> + +<p>I left her standing so, and turned away; but in the many ghosts that +haunt my solitary days, not the least vivid is the phantom of this +white-haired woman on the black and silent river, eternally +beckoning, "Kill him!"</p> + +<p>I found myself in a yard strewn with timber, spars and refuse, half +hidden beneath the snow. From it a flight of rickety stone steps led +to a rotting door, and thence into the street. Here I stood for a +moment, pondering on my next step. Not a soul was abroad so early; +but I must quickly get a change of clothes somewhere; at present I +stood in my torn dress trousers and soaked shirt. I passed up the +street, my shoeless feet making the first prints in the newly-fallen +snow. The first? No; for when I looked more closely I saw other +footprints, already half obliterated, leading up the street. +These must be Simon Colliver's. I followed them for about a hundred +yards past the shuttered windows.</p> + +<p>Suddenly they turned into a shop door, and then seemed to leave it +again. The shop was closed, and above it hung three brass balls, +each covered now with a snowy cap. Above, the blinds were drawn +down, but on looking again, I saw a chink of light between the +shutters. I knocked.</p> + +<p>After a short pause, the door was opened. A red-eyed, villainous +face peered out, and seeing me, grew blank with wonder.</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" inquired at length the voice belonging to it.</p> + +<p>"To buy a fresh suit of clothes. See, I have fallen into the river."</p> + +<p>Muttering something beneath his breath, the pawnbroker opened his +door, and let me into the shop.</p> + +<p>It was a dingy nest, fitted up with the usual furniture of such a +place. The one dim candle threw a ghostly light on chairs, clocks, +compasses, trinkets, saucepans, watches, piles of china, and suits of +left-off clothes arrayed like rows of suicides along the wall. +A general air of decay hung over the den. Immediately opposite me, +as I entered, a stuffed parrot, dropping slowly into dust, glared at +me with one malevolent eye of glass, while a hideous Chinese idol, +behind the counter, poked out his tongue in a very frenzy of +malignity. But my eye wandered past these, and was fixed in a moment +upon something that glittered upon the counter. That something was +my own watch.</p> + +<p>Following my gaze, the man gave me a quick, suspicious glance, +hastily caught up the watch, and was bestowing it on one of his +shelves, when I said—</p> + +<p>"Where did you get that?"</p> + +<p>"Quite innocently, sir, I swear. I bought it of a gentleman who came +in just now, and would not pawn it. I thought it was his, so that if +you belong to the Force, I hope—"</p> + +<p>"Gently, my friend," said I; "I am not in the police, so you need not +be in such a fright. Nevertheless, that watch is mine; I can tell +you the number, if you don't believe it."</p> + +<p>He pushed the watch across to me and said, still greatly frightened—</p> + +<p>"I am sure you may see it, sir, with all my heart. I wouldn't for +worlds—"</p> + +<p>"What did you give for it?"</p> + +<p>He hesitated a moment, and then, as greed overmastered fear, +replied—</p> + +<p>"Fifteen pounds, sir; and the man would not take a penny less. +Fifteen good pounds! I swear it, as I am alive!"</p> + +<p>Although I saw that the man lied, I drew out three five-pound notes, +laid them on the table, and took my watch. This done, I said—</p> + +<p>"Now I want you to sell me a suit of clothes, and aid me to disguise +myself. Otherwise—"</p> + +<p>"Don't talk, sir, about 'otherwise.' I'm sure I shall only be too +glad to rig you out to catch the thief. You can take your pick of +the suits here; they are mostly seamen's, to be sure; but you'll find +others as well. While as for disguises, I flatter myself that for +getting up a face—"</p> + +<p>Here he stopped suddenly.</p> + +<p>"How long has he been gone?"</p> + +<p>"About half an hour, sir, before you came. But no doubt you know +where he'd be likely to go; and I won't be more than twenty minutes +setting you completely to rights."</p> + +<p>In less than half an hour afterwards, I stepped out into the street +so completely disguised that none of my friends—that is, if I had +possessed a friend in the world—would have recognised me. I had +chosen a sailor's suit, that being the character I knew myself best +able to sustain. My pale face had turned to a bronze red, while over +its smoothly-shaven surface now grew the roughest of untrimmed +beards. Snow was falling still, so that Colliver's footprints were +entirely obliterated. But I wanted them no longer. He would be at +Paddington, I knew; and accordingly I turned my feet in that +direction, and walked rapidly westward.</p> + +<p>My chase had begun. I had before me plenty of time in which to reach +Paddington, and the exercise of walking did me good, relaxing my +stiffened limbs until at length I scarcely felt the pain of the weals +where the cords had cut me. It was snowing persistently, but I +hardly noticed it. Through the chill and sullen morning I held +doggedly on my way, past St. Katharine's Wharf, the Tower, through +Gracechurch Street, and out into St. Paul's Churchyard. Traffic was +already beginning here, and thickened as I passed down Ludgate Hill +and climbed up to Holborn. Already the white snow was being churned +and trodden into hideous slush in which my feet slipped and stumbled. +My coat and sailor's cap were covered with powdery flakes, and I had +to hold my head down for fear lest the drifting moisture should wash +any of the colouring off my face. So my feet carried me once more +into Oxford Street. How well remembered was every house, every +lamp-post, every flag of the pavement almost! I was on my last quest +now.</p> + +<p>"To-night! to-night!" whispered my heart: then came back the words of +Claire's mother—"Kill him! Kill him!" and still I tramped westward, +as westward lay my revenge.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a hansom cab shot past me. It came up silently on the +slushy street, and it was only when it was close behind that I heard +the muffled sound of its wheels. It was early yet for cabs, so that +I turned my head at the sound. It passed in a flash, and gave me but +a glimpse of the occupant: but in that moment I had time to catch +sight of a pair of eyes, and knew now that my journey would not be in +vain. They were the eyes of Simon Colliver.</p> + +<p>So then in Oxford Street, after all, I had met him. He was cleverly +disguised—as I guessed, by the same hands that had painted my own +face—and looked to the casual eye but an ordinary bagman. But art +could not change those marvellous eyes, and I knew him in an instant. +My heart leapt wildly for a moment—my hands were clenched and my +teeth shut tight; but the next, I was plodding after him as before. +I could wait now.</p> + +<p>Before I reached Paddington I met the cab returning empty, and on +gaining the station at first saw nothing of my man. Though as yet it +was early, the platform was already crowded with holiday-makers: a +few country dames laden with countless bundles, careworn workers +preparing to spend Christmas with friends or parents in their village +home, a sprinkling of schoolboys chafing at the slowness of the +clock. After a minute or so, I spied Simon Colliver moving among +this happy and innocent crowd like an evil spirit. I flung myself +down upon a bench, and under pretence of sleeping, quietly observed +him. Once or twice, as he passed to and fro before me, he almost +brushed my knee, so close was he—so close that I had to clutch the +bench tightly for fear I should leap up and throttle him. He did not +notice me. Doubtless he thought me already tossing out to sea with +the gulls swooping over me, and the waves merrily dashing over my +dead face. The waiting game had changed hands now.</p> + +<p>I heard him demand a ticket for Penryn, and, after waiting until he +had left the booking office, took one myself for the same station. +I watched him as he chose his compartment, and then entered the next. +It was crowded, of course, with holiday-seekers; but the only person +that I noticed at first was the man sitting directly opposite to me— +an honest, red-faced countryman, evidently on his way home from town, +and at present deeply occupied with a morning paper which seemed to +have a peculiar fascination for him, for as he raised his face his +round eyes were full of horror. I paid little attention to him, +however, but, having the corner seat facing the engine, watched to +see that Colliver did not change his compartment. He did not appear +again, and in a minute or two the whistle shrieked and we were off.</p> + +<p>At first the countryman opposite made such a prodigious to-do with +his piece of news that I could not help watching him. Then my +attention wandered from him to the country through which we were +flying. Slowly I pondered over the many events that had passed +since, not many months before, I had travelled up from Cornwall to +win my fortune. My fortune! To what had it all come? I had won a +golden month or two of love, and lo! my darling was dead. Dead also +was the friend who had travelled up with me, so full of boyish hope: +both dead; the one in the full blaze of her triumph, the other in the +first dawn of his young success: both dead—and, but for me, both +living yet and happy.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the countryman looked up and spoke.</p> + +<p>"Hav'ee seen this bit o' news? Astonishin'! And her so pretty too!"</p> + +<p>"What is it?" I asked vacantly.</p> + +<p>For answer he pushed the paper into my hands, and with his thumb-nail +pointed to a column headed "TERRIBLE TRAGEDY IN A THEATRE."</p> + +<p>"An' to think," he continued reflectively, "as how I saw her wi' my +own eyes but three nights back—an' actin' so pretty, too! Lord! +It made me cry like any sucking child: beautiful it was—just +beau-ti-ful! Here's a story to tell my missus!"</p> + +<p>I took the paper and read—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"TERRIBLE TRAGEDY IN A THEATRE. SUICIDE OF A<br> + FAMOUS ACTRESS.—<br> + Last evening, the performance of the new and popular tragedy,<br> + <i>Francesca</i>, at the Coliseum, was interrupted by a scene<br> + perhaps the most awful that has ever been presented to the<br> + play-going public. A sinister fate seems to have pursued this<br> + play from the outset. It will be within the memory of all that<br> + its young and gifted author was, on the very night of its<br> + production, struck down suddenly in the street by an unknown<br> + hand which the police have not yet succeeded in tracing.<br> + Last night's tragedy was even more terrible. Clarissa Lambert,<br> + whose name—"<br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>But I wanted to read no more. To the countryman's astonishment the +paper slipped from my listless fingers, and once more my gaze turned +to the carriage window. On we tore through the snow that raced +horizontally by the pane, through the white and peaceful country— +homeward. Homeward to welcome whom? Whom but the man now sitting, +it might be, within a foot of me? To my heart I hugged the thought +of him, sitting there and gloating over the morrow.</p> + +<p>The morrow! Somehow my own horizon did not stretch as far: it was +bounded by to-night. Before to-morrow one of us two should be a dead +man; perhaps both. So best: the world with its loves and hatreds +would end to-night. So westward we sped in the grey light beneath +which the snowy fields gleamed unnaturally—westward while the sun +above showed only as a crimson ball, an orb of blood, travelling +westward too. At Bristol it glared through a murky veil of smoke, at +Exeter and through the frozen pastures and leafless woodlands of +Devon dropped swiftly towards my goal, beckoning with blood-stained +hand across the sky. Past the angry sea we tore, and then again into +the whitened fields now growing dim in the twilight. In the carriage +the talk was unceasing—talk of home, of expectant friends, of +Christmas meetings and festivities. Every station was thronged, and +many a happy welcome I witnessed as I sat there with no friend but +hate. Friends! What had I to do with such? I had a friend once, +but he was dead. Friend, parents, love—all dead by one man's hand, +and he—But a little while now; but a little while!</p> + +<p>We reached Plymouth shortly after five—the train being late—and +here the crowd in the carriages grew greater. It was dark, but the +moon was not yet up—the full moon by which the treasure was to be +sought. How slowly the train dragged through Cornwall! It would be +eight before we reached Penryn, and low water was at half-past +eleven. Should we be in time?</p> + +<p>The snow had ceased to fall: a clear north-east wind had chased the +clouds from heaven, and scarcely had we passed Saltash before a +silver rim came slowly rising above the black woods on the river's +opposite bank. Clear into the frosty night it rose, and I fell to +wondering savagely with what thoughts Colliver saluted it.</p> + +<p>It was already half-past eight as we changed our train at Truro, and +here again more time was wasted. Upon the platform I saw him again. +He was heavily cloaked and muffled now, for it was freezing hard; but +beneath the low brim of his hat I saw the deep, black eyes gleaming +with impatience. So at last once more we started.</p> + +<p>"Penryn!"</p> + +<p>I looked at my watch. It was nine o'clock; more than an hour and a +half late. By the light from the carriage window I saw him step out +into the shadow of the platform. I followed. Here also was a large +crowd bound for Helston, and the coach that waited outside was +quickly thronged inside and out. Colliver was outside the station in +a moment, and in another had jumped into a carriage waiting there +with two horses, and was gone up the hill beneath the shadow of the +bridge. In my folly I had forgotten that he might have telegraphed +for horses to meet him. However, the coach was fast and I could post +from Helston. I clambered up to the top, where for want of a better +seat I propped myself up on a pile of luggage, and waited whilst box +after box, amid vociferous cursing, was piled up beside me. +At length, just as I was beginning to despair of ever starting at +all, with a few final curses directed at the bystanders generally, +the driver mounted the box, shook his reins, and we were off.</p> + +<p>The load was so heavy that at first five horses were used, but we +left one with his postillion at the top of the hill and swung down at +a canter into the level country. The snow lay fairly deep, and the +horses' hoofs were soundless as we plunged through the crisp and +tingling air. The wind raced past me as I sat perched on my rickety +seat, swaying wildly with every lurch of the coach. With every gust +I seemed to drink in fresh strength and felt the very motion and +swiftness enter into my blood. Across the white waste we tore, up a +stiff ascent and down across the moorland again—still westward; and +now across the stretches of the moor I could catch the strong scent +of the sea upon the wind. Along the level we sped, silent and swift +beneath the moon. Here a white house by the roadside glimmered out +and was gone; there a mine-chimney shot up against the sky and faded +back again. We were going now at a gallop, and from my perch I could +see the yellow light of the lamps on the sweating necks of the +leaders.</p> + +<p>There was a company of sailors with me on the coach-top—smoking, +talking, and shouting. Once or twice one of them would address a +word or two to me, but got scanty answers. I was looking intently +along the road for a sign of Colliver's carriage. He must have +ordered good horses, for I saw no sign of him as yet. Stay! As we +swept round a sharp corner and swung on to the straight road again, I +thought I spied far in front a black object moving on the universal +white. Yes, it must be he: and again on the wings of the wind I +heard the call, "To-night! to-night! Kill him! kill him! kill—"</p> + +<p>Crash! With a heavy and sickening lurch sideways, the coach hung for +an instant, tottered, and then plunged over on its side, flinging me +clear of the luggage which pounded and rattled after. As I struggled +to my feet, half dazed, I saw a confused medley of struggling horses, +frightened passengers and scattered boxes. Collecting my senses I +rushed to help those inside the coach and then amid the moaning, +cursing and general dismay, sought out my bundle, grasped it tightly +and set off at a run down the heavy road. I could wait now for no +man.</p> + +<p>Panting, spent, my sore limbs weighted with snow, I gained the top of +the hill and plunged down the steep street into Helston. There, at +"the Angel" I got a post-chaise and pair, and set off once more. +At first, seeing my dress and wondering what a sailor could want with +post-chaises at that hour, they demurred, but the money quickly +persuaded them. They told me also that a gentleman had changed +horses there about half an hour before and gone towards the Lizard, +after borrowing a pickaxe and spade. Half an hour: should I yet be +in time?</p> + +<p>I leant back in the chaise and pondered. I knew by heart the +shortest cuts across the downs. When I reached them I would stop +the carriage and take to my feet once more. The fresh horses +were travelling fast, and as we drew near the sea I dimly noted a +hundred familiar landmarks, and in each a fresh memory of Tom. +How affectionately we had taken leave of them, one by one, on our +journey to London! Now each seemed to cry, "What have you done with +your friend?" This was my home-coming.</p> + +<p>At the beginning of the downs I stopped the carriage, paid and +dismissed the astonished post-boy and started off alone at a swinging +trot across the snow. Southward hung the white moon, now high in +heaven. It must be almost time. Along the old track I ran, still +clutching my bundle, over the frozen ruts, stumbling, slipping, but +with set teeth and straining muscles, skirted the hill above +Polkimbra with just a glimpse of the cottage roofs shining in the +hollow below, and raced along the cliffs towards Lantrig. I guessed +that Colliver would come across Polkimbra Beach, so had determined to +approach the rock from the northern side, over Ready-Money Cove.</p> + +<p>Lantrig, my old home, was merrily lit up this Christmas Eve, and the +sight of it gave me one swift, sharp pang of anguish as I stole +cautiously downwards to the sands. At the cliff's foot I paused and +looked across the Cove.</p> + +<p>Sable and gloomy as ever, Dead Man's Rock soared up against the moon, +the grim reality of that dark shadow which had lain upon all my +life. From it had my hate started; to it was I now at the last +returning. There it stood, the stern warder of that treasure for +which my grandfather had sold his soul, my father had given his life, +and I had lost all that made both life and soul worth having. +"Blood shall be their inheritance, and Fire their portion for ever." +The curse had lain upon us all.</p> + +<p>Creeping along the shadow, I crossed the little Cove and peered +through the archway on to Polkimbra Sands, now sparkling in the +moonlight.</p> + +<p>Not a soul in sight! As far as eye could see the beach was utterly +deserted and peaceful. I stepped down to a small pool, left by the +receding tide in the rock's shadow, removed my false hair and beard, +and carefully washed away all traces of paint from my face. +This done, I slipped off my shoes and holding them with the bundle in +my right hand, began softly and carefully to ascend the rock. +I gained the first ledge; crept out along it as far as the ring +mentioned on the clasp, and then began to climb again. This needed +care, for the ascent on the north side was harder at first than on +the other, and I could use but one hand with ease. Slowly, however, +and with effort I pulled myself up and then stole out towards the +face until I could command a view of Polkimbra Beach. Still I could +see nobody, only the lights of the little church-town twinkling +across the beach and, far beyond, the shadowy cliffs of Kynance. +I pulled out my watch. It was close on half-past eleven, the hour of +dead low water.</p> + +<p>As I looked up again I thought I saw a speck approaching over the +sands. Yes, I was not mistaken. I set my teeth and crouched down +nearer to the rock. Over the sands, beneath the shadow of the cliffs +he came, and as he drew nearer, I saw that he carried something on +his shoulder, doubtless the spade and pickaxe. A moment more and he +turned to see that no one was following. As he did so, the moon +shone full in his face, and I saw, stripped now of all disguises, the +features of my enemy.</p> + +<p>I opened the tin box and took out my knife. I had caused the thin +sharp blade, found in my dead father's heart, to be fitted to a horn +handle into which it shut with an ordinary spring-clasp. As I opened +it, the moonlight glittered down the steel and lit up the letters +"Ricordati."</p> + +<p>Still in the shadow, he crept down by the rock, and once more looked +about him. No single soul was abroad at that hour to see; none but +the witness crouching there above. I gripped the knife tighter as he +disappeared beneath the ledge on which I hung.</p> + +<p>A low curse or two, and then silence. I held my breath and waited. +Presently he reappeared, with compass in one hand and measuring-tape +in the other, and stood there for a moment looking about him. +Still I waited.</p> + +<p>About forty feet from the breakers now crisply splashing on the sand, +Dead Man's Rock suddenly ended on the southern side in a thin black +ridge that broke off with a drop of some ten feet. This ridge was, +of course, covered at high water, and upon it the <i>Belle Fortune</i> had +doubtless struck before she reeled back and settled in deep water. +This was the "south point" mentioned on the clasp. Fixing his +compass carefully, he drew out the tape, and slowly began to measure +towards the north-west. "End South Point, 27 feet," I remembered +that the clasp said. He measured it out to the end, and then, +digging with his heel a small hole in the sand, began to walk back +towards the rock, this time to the north side. And still I waited.</p> + +<p>Again I could hear him searching for the mark—an old iron ring, once +used for mooring boats—and cursing because he could not find it. +After a minute or two, however, he came into sight again, drawing his +line now straight out from the cliff, due west. He was very slow, +and every now and then, as he bent over his task, would look swiftly +about him with a hunted air, and then set to work again. Still there +was no sight but the round moon overhead, the sparkling stretch of +sand, and the gleam of the waves as they broke in curving lines of +silver: no sound but the sigh of the night breeze.</p> + +<p>Apparently his measurements were successful, for the tape led him +once more to the hole he had marked in the sand. He paused for a +moment or two, drew out the clasp, which shot out a sudden gleam as +he turned it in his hand, and consulted it carefully. Presumably +satisfied, he walked back to the rock to fetch his tools. And still +I crouched, waiting, with knife in hand.</p> + +<p>Arrived once more at the point where the two lines met, he threw a +hasty glance around, and began to dig rapidly. He faced the sea now, +and had his back turned to me, so that I could straighten myself up, +and watch at greater ease. He dug rapidly, and the pit, as his spade +threw out heap after heap of soft sand, grew quickly bigger. +If treasure really lay there, it would soon be disclosed.</p> + +<p>Presently I heard his spade strike against something hard. Surely he +had not yet dug deeply enough. The clasp had said "four feet six +inches," and the pit could not yet be more than three feet in depth. +Colliver bent down and drew something out, then examined it intently. +As I strained forward to look, he half turned, and I saw between his +hands—a human skull. Whose? Doubtless, some victim's of those many +that went down in the <i>Belle Fortune</i>; or perhaps the skull of John +Railton, sunk here above the treasure to gain which he had taken the +lives of other men and lost in the end his own. It was a grisly +thought, but apparently troubled Colliver little, for with a jerk of +his arm he sent it bowling down the sands towards the breakers. +A bound or two, a splash, and it was swallowed up once more by the +insatiate sea.</p> + +<p>With this he fell to digging anew, and I to watching. For a full +twenty minutes he laboured, flinging out the sand to right and left, +and every now and then stopping for a moment to measure his progress. +By this time, I judged, he must have dug below the depth pointed out +upon the clasp, for once or twice he drew it out and paused in his +work to consult it.</p> + +<p>He was just resuming, after one of these rests, when his spade grated +against something. He bent low to examine it, and then began to +shovel out the sand with inconceivable rapidity.</p> + +<p>The treasure was found!</p> + +<p>Like a madman he worked: so that even from where I stood I could hear +his breath coming hard and fast. At length, with one last glance +around, he knelt down and disappeared from my view. My time was +come.</p> + +<p>Knife in hand, I softly clambered down the south side of the rock, +and dropped upon the sand.</p> + +<p>The pit lay rather to the north, so that by creeping behind the ridge +on the south side I could get close up to him unobserved, even should +he look. But he was absorbed now in his prize, so that I stole +noiselessly out across the strip of sand between us until within +about ten feet of him; then, on hands and knees, I crawled and pulled +myself to the trench's lip and peered over.</p> + +<p>There, below me, within grasp, he sat, his back still turned towards +me. The moon was full in front, so that it cast no shadow of me +across him. There he sat, and in front of him lay, imbedded in the +sand, a huge iron chest, bound round with a broad band of iron, and +secured with an enormous padlock. On the rusty top I could even +trace the rudely-cut initials A. T.</p> + +<p>I held my breath as he drew from his pocket my grandfather's key and +inserted it in the lock, after first carefully clearing away the +sand. The stubborn lock creaked heavily as at last and with +difficulty he managed to turn the key. And still I knelt above him, +knife in hand.</p> + +<p>Then, with a long, shuddering sigh, he lifted and threw back the +groaning lid. We both gazed, and as we gazed were well-nigh blinded.</p> + +<p>For this is what we saw:—</p> + +<p>At first, only a blaze of darting rays that beneath the moon gleamed, +sparkled and shot out a myriad scintillations of colour—red, violet, +orange, green and deepest crimson. Then by degrees I saw that all +these flashing hues came from one jumbled heap of gems—some large, +some small, but together in value beyond a king's ransom.</p> + +<p>I caught my breath and looked again. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, +amethysts, opals, emeralds, turquoises, and innumerable other stones +lay thus roughly heaped together and glittering as though for joy to +see the light of heaven once more. Some polished, some uncut, some +strung on necklaces and chains, others gleaming in rings and +bracelets and barbaric ornaments; there they lay—wealth beyond the +hope of man, the dreams of princes.</p> + +<p>The chest measured some five feet by three, and these jewels +evidently lay in a kind of sunken drawer, or tray, of iron. In the +corner of this was a small space of about four inches square, covered +with an iron lid. As we gazed with straining eyes, Colliver drew one +more long sigh of satisfied avarice, and lifted this smaller lid.</p> + +<p>Instantly a full rich flood of crimson light welled up, serene and +glorious, with luminous shafts of splendour, that, as we looked, met +and concentred in one glowing heart of flame—met in one translucent, +ineffable depth of purple-red. Calm and radiant it lay there, as +though no curse lay in its deep hollows, no passion had ever fed its +flames with blood; stronger than the centuries, imperishably and +triumphantly cruel—the Great Ruby of Ceylon!</p> + +<p>With a short gasp of delight, Colliver was stretching out his hand +towards it, when I laid mine heavily on his shoulder, then sprang to +my feet. My waiting was over.</p> + +<p>He gave one start of uttermost terror, leapt to his feet, and in an +instant was facing me. Already his knife was half out of his +waist-band; already he had taken half a leap forwards, when he saw me +standing there above him.</p> + +<p>Bareheaded I stood in the moonlight, the white ray glittering +up my knife and lighting up my bared chest and set stern face. +Bareheaded, with the light breeze fanning my curls, I stood there and +waited for his leap. But that leap never came.</p> + +<p>One step forward he took and then looked, and looking, staggered back +with hands thrown up before his face. Slowly, as he cowered back +with hands upraised and straining eyeballs, I saw those eyeballs grow +rigid, freeze and turn to stone, while through his gaping, bloodless +lips came a hoarse and gasping sound that had neither words nor +meaning.</p> + +<p>Then as I still watched, with murderous purpose on my face, there +came one awful cry, a scream that startled the gulls from slumber and +awoke echo after echo along the shore—a scream like no sound in +earth or heaven—a scream inhuman and appalling.</p> + +<p>Then followed silence, and as the last echo died away, he fell.</p> + +<p>As he collapsed within the pit, I made a step forward to the brink +and looked. He was now upon his hands and knees before the chest, +bathing his hands in the gleaming heap of gems, catching them up in +handfuls, and as they ran like sparkling rain through his fingers, +muttering incoherently to himself and humming wild snatches of song.</p> + +<p>"Colliver—Simon Colliver!" I called.</p> + +<p>He paid no attention, but went on tossing up the diamonds and rubies +in his hands and watching them as they rattled down again upon the +heap.</p> + +<p>"Simon Colliver!"</p> + +<p>I leapt down into the pit beside him, and laid my hand upon his +shoulder. He paused for a moment, and looked up with a vacant gleam +in his deep eyes.</p> + +<p>"Colliver, I have to speak a word with you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I know you. Trenoweth, of course: Ezekiel Trenoweth come +back again after the treasure. But you are too late, too late, too +late! You are dead now—ha, ha! dead and rotting.</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"For his glittering eyes are the salt sea's prize,<br> +<span class="ind2">And his fingers clutch the sand, my lads.</span><br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>"Aha! his fingers clutch the sand. Here's pretty sand for you! sand +of all colours; look, look, there's a brave sparkle!" And again he +ran the priceless shower through his fingers.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," he continued after a moment, looking up, "oh, yes, I know +you—Ezekiel Trenoweth, of course; or is it Amos, or Jasper? +No matter, you are all dead. I killed the last of you last year—no, +last night; all dead.</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"And the devil has got his due, my lads!<br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>"His due, his due! Look at it! look again! I had a skull just now. +John Railton's skull, no eyes in it though,</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"For his glittering eyes are the salt sea's—</p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + + +<p>"Where is the skull? Let me fit it with a bonny pair of eyes here— +here they are, or here, look, here's a pair that change colour when +they move. Where is the skull? Give it me. Oh, I forgot, I lost +it. Never mind, find it, find it. Here's plenty of eyes when you +find it. Or give it this big, red one. Here's a flaming, fiery +eye!"</p> + +<p>As he stretched out his hand over the Great Ruby, I caught him by the +wrist. But he was too quick for me, and with a sharp snarl and click +of his teeth, had whipped his hand round to his back.</p> + +<p>Then in a flash, as I grappled with him, he thrust me back with his +left palm, and, with a sweep of his right, hurled the great jewel far +out into the sea. I saw it rise and curve in one long, sparkling +arch of flame, then fall with a dropping line of fire down into the +billows. A splash—a jet of light, and it was gone:—gone perhaps to +hide amid the rotting timbers of what was once the <i>Belle Fortune</i>, +or among the bones of her drowned crew to watch with its blood-red +tireless eye the extremity of its handiwork. There, for aught I +know, it lies to-day, and there, for aught I care, beneath the waters +it shall treasure its infernal loveliness for ever.</p> + +<p>Into its red heart I have looked once, and this was what I read:—of +treachery, lust and rapine; of battle and murder and sudden death; of +midnight outcries, and poison in the guest-cup; of a curse that said, +"Even as the Heart of the Ruby is Blood and its Eyes a Flaming Fire, +so shall it be for them that would possess it: Fire shall be their +portion, and Blood their inheritance for ever." Of that quest and +that curse we were the two survivors. And what were we, that night, +as we stood upon the sands with that last hellish glitter still +dancing in our eyes? The one, a lonely and broken man; the other—</p> + +<p>I turned to look at Colliver. He was huddled against the pit's side, +with his dark eyes gazing wistfully up at me. In their shining +depths there lurked no more sanity than in the heart of the Great +Ruby. As I looked, I knew him to be a hopeless madman, and knew also +that my revenge had slipped from me for ever.</p> + +<p>We were still standing so when a soft wave came stealing up the beach +and flung the lip of its foam over the pit's edge into the chest. +I turned round. The tide was rising fast, and in a minute or so +would be upon us. Catching Colliver by the shoulder, I pointed and +tried to make him understand; but the maniac had again fallen to +playing with the jewels. I shook him; he did not stir, only sat +there jabbering and singing. And now wave after wave came splashing +over us, soaking us through, and hissing in phosphorescent pools +among the gems.</p> + +<p>There was no time to be lost. I tore the madman back, stamped down +the lid, locked it, and took out the key; then caught Colliver in my +arms and heaved him bodily out of the trench. Jumping out beside +him, I caught up the spade and shovelled back the wet sand as fast as +I could, until the tide drove us back. Colliver stood quite tamely +beside me all this while and watched the treasure disappearing from +his view; only every now and then he would chatter a few wild words, +and with that break off again in vacant wonder at my work.</p> + +<p>When all was done that could be, I took my companion's hand, led him +up the sands beyond high-water mark, and then sat down beside him, +waiting for the dawn.</p> + +<p>And there, next morning, by Dead Man's Rock they found us, while +across the beach came the faint music of Polkimbra bells as they rang +their Christmas peal, "Peace on earth and goodwill toward men."</p> + +<p> +There is little more to tell. Next day, at low ebb, with the aid of +Joe Roscorla (still hale and hearty) and a few Polkimbra fishermen +whom I knew, the rest of my grandfather's treasure was secured and +carried up from the sea. In the iron chest, besides the gems already +spoken of, and beneath the iron tray containing them, was a +prodigious quantity of gold and silver, partly in ingots, partly in +coinage. This last was of all nationalities: moidores, dollars, +rupees, doubloons, guineas, crown-pieces, louis, besides an amount of +coins which I could not trace, the whole proving a most catholic +taste in buccaneering. So much did it all weigh, that we found it +impossible to stir the chest as it stood, and therefore secured the +prize piecemeal. Strangest of all, however, was a folded parchment +which, we discovered beneath the tray of gems and above the coins. +It contained but few words, which ran as follows—</p> + +<p> FAIR FORTUNE WRECKED, FAIR FORTUNE FOUND, + AND ALL BUT THE FINDER UNDERGROUND.—A.T.</p> + +<p>This, as, far as I know, was my grandfather's one and only attempt at +verse; and its apparent application to the wreck of the <i>Belle +Fortune</i> is a coincidence which puzzles me to this day.</p> + +<p>The reader will search the chronicles of wrecks in vain for the story +of that ill-fated ship. But if he comes upon the record of a certain +vessel, the <i>James and Elizabeth</i>, wrecked upon the Cornish coast on +the night of October 11th, 1849, he may know it to be the same. +For that was the name given by the only survivor, one Georgio +Rhodojani, a Greek sailor, and as the <i>James and Elizabeth</i> she +stands entered to this day.</p> + +<p>If, however, his curiosity lead him further to inquire into the +after-history of this same Georgio Rhodojani, let him go on a fine +summer day to the County Lunatic Asylum at Bodmin, and, with +permission, enter the grounds set apart for private patients. +There he may chance to see a strange sight.</p> + +<p>On a garden seat against the sunny wall sit two persons—a man and a +woman. The man is decrepit and worn, being apparently about +sixty-seven or eight years old; but the woman, as the keepers will +tell, is ninety. She is his mother, and as they sit together, she +feeds him with sweets and fruit as tenderly as though he were a +child. He takes them, but never notices her, and when he has had +enough, rises abruptly and walks away humming a song which runs—</p> + +<blockquote><blockquote> +<p class="noindent">"So it's hey! for the homeward bound, my lads!<br> +<span class="ind2">And ho! for the drunken crew,</span><br> + For his mess-mates round lie dead and drowned,<br> + And the devil has got his due, my lads—<br> +<span class="ind2">Sing ho! but he waits for you!"</span><br></p> +</blockquote></blockquote> + +<p>This is his only song now, and he will walk round the gravel paths by +the hour, singing it softly and muttering. Sometimes, however, he +will sit for long beside his mother and let her pat his hand. +They never speak.</p> + +<p>Folks say that she is as mad as her son, but she lodges in the town +outside the walls and comes to see him every day. Certainly she is +as remarkable to look upon, for her skin is of a brilliant and +startling yellow, and her withered hands are loaded with diamonds. +As you pass, she will stare at you with eyes absolutely passionless +and vague; but see them as she sighs and turns to go, see them as she +watches for a responsive touch of love on her son's face, and you may +find some meaning in them then.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Luttrell was never seen again from the hour when she stood below +the river steps and waved her white arms to me, crying "Kill him! +kill him!" I made every inquiry but could learn nothing, save that +my boat had been found floating below Gravesend, quite empty. +She can scarcely be alive, so that is yet one soul more added to the +account of the Great Ruby.</p> + +<p>Failing to find her mother, I had Claire's body conveyed to +Polkimbra. She lies buried beside my father and mother in the +little churchyard there. Above her head stands a white stone with +the simple words, "In memory of C. L., died Dec. 23rd, 1863. +'Love is strong as death.'"</p> + +<p>The folk at Polkimbra have many a fable about this grave, but if +pressed will shake their heads sagely and refer you to "Master +Trenoweth up yonder at Lantrig. Folks say she was a play-actor and +he loved her. Anyway you may see him up in the churchyard most days, +but dont'ee go nigh him then, unless you baint afeard of th'evil +eye."</p> + +<p>And I? After the treasure was divided with Government, I still had +for my share what I suppose would be called a considerable fortune. +The only use to which I put it, however, was to buy back Lantrig, the +home of a stock that will die out with me. There again from the +middle beam in the front parlour hangs my grandfather's key, covered +with cobwebs as thickly as on the day when my father went forth to +seek the treasure. There I live a solitary life—an old man, though +scarcely yet past middle age. For all my hopes are buried in the +grave where sleeps my lost love, and my soul shall lie for ever under +the curse, engulfed and hidden as deeply as the Great Ruby beneath +the shadow of Dead Man's Rock.</p> + +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEAD MAN'S ROCK***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 17842-h.txt or 17842-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/8/4/17842">http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/8/4/17842</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e58d885 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #17842 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/17842) diff --git a/old/17842.txt b/old/17842.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6aa6eea --- /dev/null +++ b/old/17842.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10834 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Dead Man's Rock, by Sir Arthur Thomas +Quiller-Couch + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Dead Man's Rock + + +Author: Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch + + + +Release Date: February 23, 2006 [eBook #17842] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEAD MAN'S ROCK*** + + +E-text prepared by Lionel Sear + + + +DEAD MAN'S ROCK. + +A Romance. + +by + +Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch (Q). + +1887 + +[This e-text prepared from an edition published in 1894] + + + + + + + +To the Memory of My Father I dedicate this book. + + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +BOOK I.--THE QUEST OF THE GREAT RUBY. + +Chapter. + +I. TELLS OF THE STRANGE WILL OF MY GRANDFATHER, AMOS TRENOWETH. + +II. TELLS HOW MY FATHER WENT TO SEEK THE TREASURE; AND HOW MY + MOTHER HEARD A CRY IN THE NIGHT. + +III. TELLS OF TWO STRANGE MEN THAT WATCHED THE SEA UPON POLKIMBRA + BEACH. + +IV. TELLS HOW A SONG WAS SUNG AND A KNIFE DRAWN UPON DEAD MAN'S + ROCK. + +V. TELLS HOW THE SAILOR GEORGIO RHODOJANI GAVE EVIDENCE AT THE + "LUGGER INN" + +VI. TELLS HOW A FACE LOOKED IN AT THE WINDOW OF LANTRIG; AND IN + WHAT MANNER MY FATHER CAME HOME TO US. + +VII. TELLS HOW UNCLE LOVEDAY MADE A DISCOVERY; AND WHAT THE TIN + BOX CONTAINED. + +VIII. CONTAINS THE FIRST PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: SETTING FORTH + HIS MEETING WITH MR. ELIHU SANDERSON, OF BOMBAY; AND MY + GRANDFATHER'S MANUSCRIPT. + +IX. CONTAINS THE SECOND PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: SETTING + FORTH HIS ADVENTURES IN THE ISLAND OF CELON. + +X. CONTAINS THE THIRD AND LAST PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: + SETTING FORTH THE MUTINY ON BOARD THE _BELLE FORTUNE_ + +XI. TELLS OF THE WRITING UPON THE GOLDEN CLASP; AND HOW I TOOK + DOWN THE GREAT KEY. + + + +BOOK II--THE FINDING OF THE GREAT RUBY. + +Chapter. + +I. TELLS HOW THOMAS LOVEDAY AND I WENT IN SEARCH OF FORTUNE. + +II. TELLS OF THE LUCK OF THE GOLDEN CLASP. + +III. TELLS AN OLD STORY IN A TRADITIONAL MANNER. + +IV. TELLS HOW I SAW THE SHADOW OF THE ROCK; AND HOW I TOLD AND + HEARD NEWS. + +V. TELLS HOW THE CURTAIN ROSE UPON "FRANCESCA: A TRAGEDY" + +VI. TELLS HOW THE BLACK AND YELLOW FAN SENT A MESSAGE; AND HOW I + SAW A FACE IN THE FOG. + +VII. TELLS HOW CLAIRE WENT TO THE PLAY; AND HOW SHE SAW THE + GOLDEN CLASP. + +VIII. TELLS HOW THE CURTAIN FELL UPON "FRANCESCA: A TRAGEDY" + +IX. TELLS HOW TWO VOICES LED ME TO BOARD A SCHOONER; AND WHAT + BEFELL THERE. + +X. TELLS IN WHAT MANNER I LEARNT THE SECRET OF THE GREAT KEY. + +XI. TELLS HOW AT LAST I FOUND MY REVENGE AND THE GREAT RUBY. + + + + + +DEAD MAN'S ROCK. + + + +BOOK I. + + + +THE QUEST OF THE GREAT RUBY. + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + +TELLS OF THE STRANGE WILL OF MY GRANDFATHER, AMOS TRENOWETH. + +Whatever claims this story may have upon the notice of the world, +they will rest on no niceties of style or aptness of illustration. +It is a plain tale, plainly told: nor, as I conceive, does its native +horror need any ingenious embellishment. There are many books that +I, though a man of no great erudition, can remember, which gain much +of interest from the pertinent and appropriate comments with which +the writer has seen fit to illustrate any striking situation. +From such books an observing man may often draw the exactest rules +for the regulation of life and conduct, and their authors may +therefore be esteemed public benefactors. Among these I, Jasper +Trenoweth, can claim no place; yet I venture to think my history will +not altogether lack interest--and this for two reasons. It deals +with the last chapter (I pray Heaven it be the last) in the +adventures of a very remarkable gem--none other, in fact, than the +Great Ruby of Ceylon; and it lifts, at least in part, the veil which +for some years has hidden a certain mystery of the sea. For the +moral, it must be sought by the reader himself in the following +pages. + +To make all clear, I must go back half a century, and begin with the +strange and unaccountable Will made in the year of Grace 1837 by my +grandfather, Amos Trenoweth, of Lantrig in the County of Cornwall. +The old farm-house of Lantrig, heritage and home of the Trenoweths as +far as tradition can reach, and Heaven knows how much longer, stands +some few miles N.W. of the Lizard, facing the Atlantic gales from +behind a scanty veil of tamarisks, on Pedn-glas, the northern point +of a small sandy cove, much haunted of old by smugglers, but now left +to the peaceful boats of the Polkimbra fishermen. In my +grandfather's time however, if tales be true, Ready-Money Cove saw +many a midnight cargo run, and many a prize of cognac and lace found +its way to the cellars and store-room of Lantrig. Nay, there is a +story (but for its truth I will not vouch) of a struggle between my +grandfather's lugger, the _Pride of Heart_, and a certain Revenue +cutter, and of an unowned shot that found a Preventive Officer's +heart. But the whole tale remains to this day full of mystery, nor +would I mention it save that it may be held to throw some light on my +grandfather's sudden disappearance no long time after. Whither he +went, none clearly knew. Folks said, to fight the French; but when +he returned suddenly some twenty years later, he said little about +sea-fights, or indeed on any other subject; nor did many care to +question him, for he came back a stern, taciturn man, apparently with +no great wealth, but also without seeming to want for much, and at +any rate indisposed to take the world into his confidence. +His father had died meanwhile, so he quietly assumed the mastership +at Lantrig, nursed his failing mother tenderly until her death, and +then married one of the Triggs of Mullyon, of whom was born my +father, Ezekiel Trenoweth. + +I have hinted, what I fear is but the truth, that my grandfather had +led a hot and riotous youth, fearing neither God, man, nor devil. +Before his return, however, he had "got religion" from some quarter, +and was confirmed in it by the preaching of one Jonathan Wilkins, as +I have heard, a Methodist from "up the country," and a powerful mover +of souls. As might have been expected in such a man as my +grandfather, this religion was of a joyless and gloomy order, full of +anticipations of hell-fire and conviction of the sinfulness of +ordinary folk. But it undoubtedly was sincere, for his wife Philippa +believed in it, and the master and mistress of Lantrig were alike the +glory and strong support of the meeting-house at Polkimbra until her +death. After this event, her husband shut himself up with the +tortures of his own stern conscience, and was seen by few. In this +dismal self-communing he died on the 27th of October, 1837, leaving +behind him one mourner, his son Ezekiel, then a strong and comely +youth of twenty-two. + +This brings me to my grandfather's Will, discovered amongst his +papers after his death; and surely no stranger or more perplexing +document was ever penned, especially as in this case any will was +unnecessary, seeing that only one son was left to claim the +inheritance. Men guessed that those dark years of seclusion and +self-repression had been spent in wrestling with memories of a sinful +and perhaps a criminal past, and predicted that Amos Trenoweth could +not die without confession. They were partly right, from knowledge +of human nature; and partly wrong, from ignorance of my grandfather's +character. + +The Will was dated "June 15th, 1837," and ran as follows:-- + + "I, Amos Trenoweth, of Lantrig, in the Parish of Polkimbra and + County of Cornwall, feeling, in this year of Grace Eighteen + hundred and thirty-seven, that my Bodily Powers are failing and + the Hour drawing near when I shall be called to account for my + Many and Grievous Sins, do hereby make Provision for my Death + and also for my son Ezekiel, together with such Descendants as + may hereafter be born to him. To this my son Ezekiel I give and + bequeath the Farm and House of Lantrig, with all my Worldly + Goods, and add my earnest hope that this may suffice to support + both him and his Descendants in Godliness and Contentment, + knowing how greatly these excell the Wealth of this World and + the Lusts of the Flesh. But, knowing also the mutability of + earthly things, I do hereby command and enjoin that, if at any + time He or his Descendants be in stress and tribulation of + poverty, the Head of our Family of Trenoweth shall strictly and + faithfully obey these my Latest Directions. He shall take ship + and go unto Bombay in India, to the house of Elihu Sanderson, + Esquire, or his Heirs, and there, presenting in person this my + last Will and Testament, together with the Holy Bible now lying + in the third drawer of my Writing Desk, shall duly and + scrupulously execute such instructions as the said Elihu + Sanderson or his Heirs shall lay upon him. + + "Also I command and enjoin, under pain of my Dying Curse, that + the Iron Key now hanging from the Middle Beam in the Front + Parlour be not touched or moved, until he who undertakes this + Task shall have returned and have crossed the threshold of + Lantrig, having duly performed all the said Instructions. + And furthermore that the said Task be not undertaken lightly or + except in direst Need, under pain of Grievous and Sore + Affliction. This I say, knowing well the Spiritual and worldly + Perils that shall beset such an one, and having myself been + brought near to Destruction of Body and Soul, which latter may + Christ in His Mercy avert. + + "Thus, having eased my mind of great and pressing Anguish, I + commend my soul to God, before Whose Judgment Bar I shall be + presently summoned to stand, the greatest of sinners, yet not + without hope of Everlasting Redemption, for Christ's sake. + Amen. + + "AMOS TRENOWETH." + +Such was the Will, written on stiff parchment in crabbed and +unscholarly characters, without legal forms or witnesses; but all +such were needless, as I have pointed out. And, indeed, my father +was wise, as I think, to show it to nobody, but go his way quietly as +before, managing the farm as he had managed it during the old man's +last years. Only by degrees he broke from the seclusion which had +been natural to him during his parents' lifetime, so far as to look +about for a wife--shyly enough at first--until he caught the dark +eyes of Margery Freethy one Sunday morning in Polkimbra Church, +whither he had gone of late for freedom, to the no small tribulation +of the meeting-house. Now, whether this tribulation arose from the +backsliding of a promising member, or the loss of the owner of +Lantrig (who was at the same time unmarried), I need not pause here +to discuss. Nor is it necessary to tell how regularly Margery and +Ezekiel found themselves in church, nor how often they caught each +other's eyes straying from the prayer-book. It is enough that at the +year's end Margery answered Ezekiel's question, and shortly after +came to Lantrig "for good." + +The first years of their married life must have been very happy, as I +gather from the hushed joy with which my mother always spoke of them. +I gather also that my first appearance in this world caused more +delight than I have ever given since--God forgive me for it! +But shortly after I was four years old everything began to go wrong. +First of all, two ships in which my father had many shares were lost +at sea; then the cattle were seized with plague, and the stock +gradually dwindled away to nothing. Finally, my father's bank +broke--or, as we say in the West, "went scat!"--and we were left all +but penniless, with the prospect of having to sell Lantrig, being +without stock and lacking means to replenish it. It was at this +time, I have since learnt from my mother, that Amos Trenoweth's Will +was first thought about. She, poor soul! had never heard of the +parchment before, and her heart misgave her as she read of peril to +soul and body sternly hinted at therein. Also, her best-beloved +brother had gone down in a squall off the Cape of Good Hope, so that +she always looked upon the sea as a cruel and treacherous foe, and +shuddered to think of it as lying in wait for her Ezekiel's life. +It came to pass, therefore, that for two years the young wife's tears +and entreaties prevailed; but at the end of this time, matters +growing worse and worse, and also because it seemed hard that Lantrig +should pass away from the Trenoweths while, for aught we knew, +treasure was to be had for the looking, poverty and my father's wish +prevailed, and it was determined, with the tearful assent of my +mother, that he should start to seek this Elihu Sanderson, of Bombay, +and, with good fortune, save the failing house of the Trenoweths. +Only he waited until the worst of the winter was over, and then, +having commended us both to the care of his aunt, Elizabeth Loveday, +of Lizard Town, and provided us with the largest sum he could scrape +together (and small indeed it was), he started for the port of +Plymouth one woeful morning in February, and thence sailed away in +the good ship _Golden Wave_ to win his inheritance. + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +TELLS HOW MY FATHER WENT TO SEEK THE TREASURE; AND HOW MY MOTHER +HEARD A CRY IN THE NIGHT. + +So my father sailed away, carrying with him--sewn for safety in his +jersey's side--the Will and the small clasped Bible; nor can I think +of stranger equipment for the hunting of earthly treasure. And the +great iron key hung untouched from the beam, while the spiders +outvied one another in wreathing it with their webs, knowing it to be +the only spot in Lantrig where they were safe from my mother's broom. +It is with these spiders that my recollections begin, for of my +father, before he sailed away, remembrance is dim and scanty, being +confined to the picture of a tall fair man, with huge shoulders and +wonderful grey eyes, that changed in a moment from the stern look he +must have inherited from Amos to an extraordinary depth of love and +sympathy. Also I have some faint memories of a pig, named Eleazar +(for no well-explained reason), which fell over the cliff one night +and awoke the household with its cries. But this I mention only +because it happened, as I learn, before my father's going, and not +for any connection with my story. We must have lived a very quiet +life at Lantrig, even as lives go on our Western coast. I remember +my mother now as she went softly about the house contriving and +scheming to make the two ends of our small possessions meet. She was +a woman who always walked softly, and, indeed, talked so, with a low +musical voice such as I shall never hear again, nor can ever hope to. +But I remember her best in church, as she knelt and prayed for her +absent husband, and also in the meeting-house, which she sometimes +attended, more to please Aunt Elizabeth than for any good it did her. +For the religion there was too sombre for her quiet sorrow; and often +I have seen a look of awful terror possess her eyes when the young +minister gave out the hymn and the fervid congregation wailed forth-- + + "In midst of life we are in death. + Oh! stretch Thine arm to save. + Amid the storm's tumultuous breath + And roaring of the wave." + +Which, among a fishing population, was considered a particularly +appropriate hymn; and, truly, to hear the unction with which the word +"tu-mult-u-ous" was rendered, with all strength of lung and rolling +of syllables, was moving enough. But my mother would grow all white +and trembling, and clutch my hand sometimes, as though to save +herself from shipwreck; whilst I too often would be taken with the +passion of the chant, and join lustily in the shouting, only half +comprehending her mortal anguish. It was this, perhaps, and many +another such scene, which drew upon me her gentle reproof for +pointing one day to the text above the pulpit and repeating, +"How dreadful is this place!" But that was after I had learned to +spell. + +It had always been my father's wish that I should grow up +"a scholar," which, in those days, meant amongst us one who could +read and write with no more than ordinary difficulty. So one of my +mother's chief cares was to teach me my letters, which I learnt from +big A to "Ampusand" in the old hornbook at Lantrig. I have that +hornbook still:-- + + "Covered with pellucid horn, + To save from fingers wet the letters fair." + +The horn, alas! is no longer pellucid, but dim, as if with the +tears of the many generations that have struggled through the +alphabet and the first ten numerals and reached in due course the +haven of the Lord's Prayer and Doxology. I had passed the Doxology, +and was already deep in the "Pilgrim's Progress" and the "Holy War" +(which latter book, with the rude taste of childhood, I greatly +preferred, so that I quickly knew the mottoes and standards of its +bewildering hosts by heart), when my father's first letter came home. +In those days, before the great canal was cut, a voyage to the East +Indies was no light matter, lying as it did around the treacherous +Cape and through seas where a ship may lie becalmed for weeks. +So it was little wonder that my father's letter, written from Bombay, +was some time on its way. Still, when the news came it was good. +He had seen Mr. Elihu Sanderson, son of the Elihu mentioned in my +grandfather's Will, had presented his parchment and Testament, and +received some notes (most of which he sent home), together with a +sealed packet, directed in Amos Trenoweth's handwriting: "To the Son +of my House, who, having Counted all the Perils, is Resolute." +This packet, my father went on to say, contained much mysterious +matter, which would keep until he and his dear wife met. He added +that, for himself, he could divine no peril, nor any cause for his +dear wife to trouble, seeing that he had but to go to the island of +Ceylon, whence, having accomplished the commands contained in the +packet, he purposed to take ship and return with all speed to +England. This was the substance of the letter, wrapped around with +many endearing words, and much tender solicitude for Margery and the +little one, as that he hoped Jasper was tackling his letters like a +real scholar, and comforting his mother's heart, with more to this +effect; which made us weep very sorrowfully when the letter was read, +although we could not well have told why. As to the sealed packet, +my father would have been doubtless more explicit had he been without +a certain distrust of letters and letter-carriers, which, amid much +faith in the miraculous powers of the Post Office, I have known to +exist among us even in these later days. + +Than this blessed letter surely no written sheet was ever more read +and re-read; read to me every night before prayers were said, read to +Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Loveday, read (in extracts) to all the +neighbours of Polkimbra, for none knew certainly why Ezekiel had gone +to India except that, somewhat vaguely, it was to "better hisself." +How many times my mother read it, and kissed it, and cried over it, +God alone knows; I only know that her step, which had been failing of +late, grew firmer, and she went about the house with a light in her +face like "the face of an angel," as the vicar said. It may have +been: I have never since seen its like upon earth. + +After this came the great joy of sending an answer, which I wrote +(with infinite pains as to the capital letters) at my mother's +dictation. And then it was read over and corrected, and added to, +and finally directed, as my father had instructed us, to "Mr. Ezekiel +Trenoweth; care of John P. Eversleigh, Esq., of the East India +Company's Service, Colombo, Ceylon." I remember that my mother +sealed it with the red cornelian Ezekiel had given her when he asked +her to be his wife, and took it with her own hands to Penzance to +post, having, for the occasion, harnessed old Pleasure in the cart +for the first time since we had been alone. + +Then we had to wait again, and the little store of money grew small +indeed. But Aunt Elizabeth was a wonderful contriver, and tender of +heart besides, although in most things to be called a "hard" woman. +She had married, during my grandfather's long absence, Dr. Loveday, +of Lizard Town--a mild little man with a prodigious vanity in brass +buttons, and the most terrific religious beliefs, which did not in +the least alter his natural sweetness of temper. My aunt and uncle +(it was impossible to think of them except in this order) would often +drive or walk over to Lantrig, seldom without some little present, +which, together with my aunt's cap-box, would emerge from the back +seat, amid a _duetto_ something after this fashion:-- + + _My Aunt_. "So, my dear, we thought as we were driving in this + direction we would see how you were getting on; and + by great good fortune, or rather as I should say + (Jasper, do not hang your head so; it looks so + deceitful) by the will of Heaven (and Heaven's will + be done, you know, my dear, which must be a great + comfort to you in your sore affliction), as Cyrus was + driving into Cadgwith yesterday--were you not, + Cyrus?" + + _My Uncle_. "To be sure, my dear." + + _My Aunt_. "Well, as I was saying, as Cyrus was driving into + Cadgwith yesterday to see Martha George's husband, + who was run over by the Helston coach, and she such a + regular attendant at the Prayer-meeting, but in the + midst of life (Jasper, don't fidget)--well, whom + should he see but Jane Ann Collins, with the finest + pair of ducks, too, and costing a mere nothing. + Cyrus will bear me out." + + _My Uncle_. "Nothing at all, my dear. Jasper, come here and talk + to me. Do you know, Jasper, what happens to little + boys that tell lies? You do? Something terrible, + eh? Soul's perdition, my boy; soul's ev-er-last-ing + perdition. There, come and show me the pig." + +What agonies of conscience it must have cost these two good souls +thus to conspire together for benevolence, none ever knew. Nor was +it less pathetic that the fraud was so hollow and transparent. +I doubt not that the sin of it was washed out with self-reproving +tears, and cannot think that they were shed in vain. + +So the seasons passed, and we waited, till in the late summer of 1849 +(my father having been away nineteen months) there came another +letter to say that he was about to start for home. He had found what +he sought, so he said, but could not rightly understand its value, +or, indeed, make head or tail of it by himself, and dared not ask +strangers to help him. Perhaps, however, when he came home, Jasper +(who was such a scholar) would help him; and maybe the key would be +some aid. For the rest, he had been stricken with a fever--a malady +common enough in those parts--but was better, and would start in +something over a week, in the _Belle Fortune_, a barque of some 650 +tons register, homeward bound with a cargo of sugar, spices, and +coffee, and having a crew of about eighteen hands, with, he thought, +one or two passengers. The letter was full of strong hope and love, +so that my mother, who trembled a little when she read about the +fever, plucked up courage to smile again towards the close. The ship +would be due about October, or perhaps November. So once more we had +to resume our weary waiting, but this time with glad hearts, for we +knew that before Christmas the days of anxiety and yearning would be +over. + +The long summer drew to a glorious and golden September, and so +faded away in a veil of grey sky; and the time of watching was nearly +done. Through September the skies had been without cloud, and the +sea almost breathless, but with the coming of October came dirty +weather and a strong sou'-westerly wind, that gathered day by day, +until at last, upon the evening of October 11th, it broke into a +gale. My mother for days had been growing more restless and anxious +with the growing wind, and this evening had much ado to sit quietly +and endure. I remembered that as the storm raged without and tore at +the door-hinges, while the rain lashed and smote the tamarisk +branches against the panes, I sat by her knee before the kitchen fire +and read bits from my favourite "Holy War," which, in the pauses of +the storm, she would explain to me. + +I was much put to it that night, I recollect, by the questionable +morality at one point of Captain Credence, who in general was my +favourite hero, dividing that honour with General Boanerges for +the most part, but exciting more sympathy by reason of his wound--so +grievously I misread the allegory, or rather saw no allegory at +all. So my mother explained it to me, though all the while, poor +creature, her heart was racked with terror for _her_ Mansoul, beaten, +perhaps, at that moment from its body by the fury of that awful +night. Then when the fable's meaning was explained, and my +difficulty smoothed away, we fell to talking of father's home-coming, +in vain endeavours to cheat ourselves of the fears that rose again +with every angry bellow of the tempest, and agreed that his ship +could not possibly be due yet (rejoicing at this for the first time), +but must, we feigned, be lying in a dead calm off the West Coast of +Africa; until we almost laughed--God pardon us!--at the picture of +his anxiety to be home while such a storm was raging at the doors of +Lantrig. And then I listened to wonderful stories of the East Indies +and the marvels that men found there, and wondered whether father +would bring home a parrot, and if it would be as like Aunt Loveday as +the parrot down at the "Lugger Inn," at Polkimbra, and so crept +upstairs to bed to dream of Captain Credence and parrots, and the +"Lugger Inn" in the city of Mansoul, as though no fiends were +shouting without and whirling sea and sky together in one devil's +cauldron. + +How long I slept I know not; but I woke with the glare of a candle in +my eyes, to see my mother, all in white, standing by the bed, and in +her eyes an awful and soul-sickening horror. + +"Jasper, Jasper! wake up and listen!" + +I suppose I must have been still half asleep, for I lay looking at +her with dazzled sight, not rightly knowing whether this vision were +real or part of my strange dreams. + +"Jasper, for the love of God wake up!" + +At this, so full were her words of mortal fear, I shook off my +drowsiness and sat up in bed, wide awake now and staring at the +strange apparition. My mother was white as death, and trembling so +that the candle in her hand shook to and fro, casting wild dancing +shadows on the wall behind. + +"Oh, Jasper, listen, listen!" + +I listened, but could hear nothing save the splashing of spray and +rain upon my window, and above it the voice of the storm; now moaning +as a creature in pain, now rising and growing into an angry roar +whereat the whole house from chimney to base shook and shuddered, and +anon sinking slowly with loud sobbings and sighings as though the +anguish of a million tortured souls were borne down the blast. + +"Mother, I hear nothing but the storm." + +"Nothing but the storm! Oh, Jasper, are you sure you hear nothing +but the storm?" + +"Nothing else, mother, though that is bad enough." + +She seemed relieved a little, but still trembled sadly, and caught +her breath with every fresh roar. The tempest had gathered fury, and +was now raging as though Judgment Day were come, and earth about to +be blotted out. For some minutes we listened almost motionless, but +heard nothing save the furious elements; and, indeed, it was hard to +believe that any sound on earth could be audible above such a din. +At last I turned to my mother and said-- + +"Mother dear, it is nothing but the storm. You were thinking of +father, and that made you nervous. Go back to bed--it is so cold +here--and try to go to sleep. What was it you thought you heard?" + +"Dear Jasper, you are a good boy, and I suppose you are right, for +you can hear nothing, and I can hear nothing now. But, oh, Jasper! +it was so terrible, and I seemed to hear it so plainly; though I +daresay it was only my--Oh, God! there it is again! listen! listen!" + +This time I heard--heard clearly and unmistakably, and, hearing, felt +the blood in my veins turn to very ice. + +Shrill and distinct above the roar of the storm, which at the moment +had somewhat lulled, there rose a prolonged wail, or rather shriek, +as of many human voices rising slowly in one passionate appeal to the +mercy of Heaven, and dying away in sobbing, shuddering despair as the +wild blast broke out again with the mocking laughter of all the +fiends in the pit--a cry without similitude on earth, yet surely and +awfully human; a cry that rings in my ears even now, and will +continue to ring until I die. + +I sprang from bed, forced the window open and looked out. The wind +flung a drenching shower of spray over my face and thin night-dress, +then tore past up the hill. I looked and listened, but nothing could +be seen or heard; no blue light, nor indeed any light at all; no cry, +nor gun, nor signal of distress--nothing but the howling of the wind +as it swept up from the sea, the thundering of the surf upon the +beach below; and all around, black darkness and impenetrable night. +The blast caught the lattice from my hand as I closed the window, and +banged it furiously. I turned to look at my mother. She had fallen +forward on her knees, with her arms flung across the bed, speechless +and motionless, in such sort that I speedily grew possessed with an +awful fear lest she should be dead. As it was, I could do nothing +but call her name and try to raise the dear head that hung so heavily +down. Remember that I was at this time not eight years old, and had +never before seen a fainting fit, so that if a sight so like to death +bewildered me it was but natural. How long the fit lasted I cannot +say, but at last, to my great joy, my mother raised her head and +looked at me with a puzzled stare that gradually froze again to +horror as recollection came back. + +"Oh, Jasper, what could it be?--what could it be?" + +Alas! I knew not, and yet seemed to know too well. The cry still +rang in my ears and clamoured at my heart; while all the time a dull +sense told me that it must have been a dream, and a dull desire bade +me believe it so. + +"Jasper, tell me--it cannot have been--" + +She stopped as our eyes met, and the terrible suspicion grew and +mastered us, numbing, freezing, paralysing the life within us. +I tried to answer, but turned my head away. My mother sank once more +upon her knees, weeping, praying, despairing, wailing, while the +storm outside continued to moan and sob its passionate litany. + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +TELLS OF TWO STRANGE MEN THAT WATCHED THE SEA UPON POLKIMBRA BEACH. + +Morning came at last, and with the first grey light the storm had +spent its fury. By degrees my mother had grown calmer, and was now +sleeping peacefully upon her bed, worn out with the passion of her +terror. I had long ago dressed; but even had I wished to sleep +again, curiosity to know the meaning of that awful cry would have +been too strong for me. So, as soon as I saw that my mother was +asleep, I took my boots in my hand and crept downstairs. The kitchen +looked so ghostly in the dim light, that I had almost resolved to +give up my plan and go back, but reflected that it behoved me to play +the man, if only to be able to cheer mother when I came back. +So, albeit with my heart in my mouth, I drew back the bolt--that +surely, for all my care, never creaked so loudly before or since--and +stepped out into the cool air. The fresh breeze that smote my cheeks +as I sat down outside to put on my boots brought me back to the +everyday world--a world that seemed to make the events of the night +unreal and baseless, so that I had, with boyish elasticity of temper, +almost forgotten all fear as I began to descend the cliff towards +Ready-Money Cove. + +Before I go any further, it will be necessary to describe in a few +words that part of the coast which is the scene of my story. +Lantrig, as I have said, looks down upon Ready-Money Cove from the +summit of Pedn-glas, its northern arm. The cove itself is narrow, +running in between two scarred and rugged walls of serpentine, and +terminating in a little beach of whitest sand beneath a frowning and +precipitous cliff. It is easy to see its value in the eyes of +smugglers, for not only is the cove difficult of observation from the +sea, by reason of its straitness and the protection of its projecting +arms, but the height and abruptness of its cliffs also give it +seclusion from the land side. For Pedn-glas on the north rises sheer +from the sea, sloping downwards a little as it runs in to join the +mainland, but only enough to admit of a rough and winding path at its +inmost point, while to the south the cove is guarded by a strange +mass of rock that demands a somewhat longer description. + +For some distance the cliff ran out as on the north side, but, +suddenly breaking off as if cleft by some gigantic stroke, left a +gloomy column of rock, attached to it only by an isthmus that stood +some six or seven feet above high-water mark. This separate mass +went by the name of Dead Man's Rock--a name dark and dreadful enough, +but in its derivation innocent, having been but Dodmen, or "the stony +headland," until common speech perverted it. For this reason I +suppose I ought not to call it Dead Man's Rock, the "Rock" being +superfluous, but I give it the name by which it has always been +known, being to a certain extent suspicious of those antiquarian +gentlemen that sometimes, in their eagerness to restore a name, would +deface a tradition. + +Let me return to the rock. Under the neck that joins it to the main +cliff there runs a natural tunnel, which at low water leads to the +long expanse of Polkimbra Beach, with the village itself lying snugly +at its further end; so that, standing at the entrance of this curious +arch, one may see the little town, with the purple cliffs behind +framed between walls of glistening serpentine. The rock is always +washed by the sea, except at low water during the spring tides, +though not reaching out so far as Pedn-glas. In colour it is mainly +black as night, but is streaked with red stains that bear an awful +likeness to blood; and, though it may be climbed--and I myself have +done it more than once in search of eggs--it has no scrap of +vegetation save where, upon its summit, the gulls build their nests +on a scanty patch of grass and wild asparagus. + +By the time I had crossed the cove, the western sky was brilliant +with the reflected dawn. Above the cliffs behind, morning had edged +the flying wrack of indigo clouds with a glittering line of gold, +while the sea in front still heaved beneath the pale yellow light, as +a child sobs at intervals after the first gust of passion is +over-past. The tide was at the ebb, and the fresh breeze dropped as +I got under the shadow of Dead Man's Rock and looked through the +archway on to Polkimbra Sands. + +Not a soul was to be seen. The long stretch of beach had scarcely +yet caught the distinctness of day, but was already beginning to +glisten with the gathering light, and, as far as I could see, was +desolate. I passed through and clambered out towards the south side +of the rock to watch the sea, if perchance some bit of floating +wreckage might explain the mystery of last night. I could see +nothing. + +Stay! What was that on the ledge below me, lying on the brink just +above the receding wave? A sailor's cap! Somehow, the sight made me +sick with horror. It must have been a full minute before I dared to +open my eyes and look again. Yes, it was there! The cry of last +night rang again in my ears with all its supreme agony as I stood in +the presence of this silent witness of the dead--this rag of clothing +that told so terrible a history. + +Child as I was, the silent terror of it made me faint and giddy. +I shut my eyes again, and clung, all trembling, to the ledge. +Not for untold bribes could I have gone down and touched that +terrible thing, but, as soon as the first spasm of fear was over, I +clambered desperately back and on to the sands again, as though all +the souls of the drowned were pursuing me. + +Once safe upon the beach, I recovered my scattered wits a little. +I felt that I could not repass that dreadful rock, so determined to +go across the sands to Polkimbra, and homewards around the cliffs. +Still gazing at the sea as one fascinated, I made along the length of +the beach. The storm had thrown up vast quantities of weed, that +lined the water's edge in straggling lines and heaps, and every heap +in turn chained and riveted my shuddering eyes, that half expected to +see in each some new or nameless horror. + +I was half across the beach, when suddenly I looked up towards +Polkimbra, and saw a man advancing towards me along the edge of the +tide. + +He was about two hundred yards from me when I first looked. Heartily +glad to see any human being after my great terror, I ran towards him +eagerly, thinking to recognise one of my friends among the Polkimbra +fishermen. As I drew nearer, however, without attracting his +attention--for the soft sand muffled all sound of footsteps--two +things struck me. The first was that I had never seen a fisherman +dressed as this man was; the second, that he seemed to watch the sea +with an absorbed and eager gaze, as if expecting to find or see +something in the breakers. At last I was near enough to catch the +outline of his face, and knew him to be a stranger. + +He wore no hat, and was dressed in a red shirt and trousers that +ended in rags at the knee. His feet were bare, and his clothes clung +dripping to his skin. In height he could not have been much above +five feet six inches, but his shoulders were broad, and his whole +appearance, cold and exhausted as he seemed, gave evidence of great +strength. His tangled hair hung over a somewhat weak face, but the +most curious feature about the man was the air of nervous expectation +that marked, not only his face, but every movement of his body. +Altogether, under most circumstances, I should have shunned him, but +fear had made me desperate. At the distance of about twenty yards I +stopped and called to him. + +I had advanced somewhat obliquely from behind, so that at the sound +of my voice he turned sharply round and faced me, but with a +terrified start that was hard to account for. On seeing only a +child, however, the hesitation faded out of his eyes, and he advanced +towards me. As he approached, I could see that he was shivering with +cold and hunger. + +"Boy," he said, in an eager and expectant voice, "what are you doing +out on the beach so early?" + +"Oh, sir!" I answered, "there was such a dreadful storm last night, +and we--that is, mother and I--heard a cry, we thought; and oh! +I have seen--" + +"What have you seen?"--and he caught me by the arm with a nervous +grip. + +"Only a cap, sir," I said, shrinking--"only a cap; but I climbed up +on Dead Man's Rock just now--the rock at the end of the beach--and I +saw a cap lying there, and it seemed--" + +"Come along and show it to me!" and he began to run over the sands +towards the rock, dragging me helpless after him. + +Suddenly he stopped. + +"You saw nothing else?" he asked, facing round and looking into my +eyes. + +"No, sir." + +"Nor anybody?" + +"Nobody, sir." + +"You are sure you saw nobody but me? You didn't happen to see a tall +man with black hair, and rings in his ears?" + +"Oh, no, sir." + +"You'll swear you saw no such man? Swear it now; say, 'So help me, +God, I haven't seen anybody on the beach but you.'" + +I swore it. + +"Say, 'Strike me blind if I have!'" + +I repeated the words after him, and, with a hurried look around, he +set off running again towards the rock. I had much ado to keep from +tumbling, and even from crying aloud with pain, so tight was his +grip. Fast as we went, the man's teeth chattered and his limbs +shook; his wet clothes flapped and fluttered in the cold morning +breeze; his face was drawn and pinched with exhaustion, but he never +slackened his pace until we reached Dead Man's Rock. Here he stopped +and looked around again. + +"Is there any place to hide in hereabouts?" he suddenly asked. + +The oddness of the question took me aback: and, indeed, the whole +conduct of the man was so strange that I was heartily frightened, and +longed greatly to run away. There was no help for it, however, so I +made shift to answer-- + +"There is a nice cave in Ready-Money Cove, which is the next cove to +this, sir. The smugglers used to use it because it was hidden so, +but--" + +I suppose my eyes told him that I was wondering why he should want to +hide, for he broke in again-- + +"Well, show me this cap. Out on the face of this rock, you say-- +what's the name? Dead Man's Rock, eh? Well, it's an ugly name +enough, and an ugly rock enough!" he added, with a shiver. + +I climbed up the rock, and he after me, until we gained the ledge +where I had stood before. I looked down. The cap was still lying +there, and the tide had ebbed still further. + +My companion looked for a moment, then, with a short cry, scrambled +quickly down and picked it up. To me it had looked like any ordinary +sailor's cap, but he examined it, fingered it, and pulled it about, +muttering all the time, so that I imagined it must be his own, though +at a loss to know why he made so much of recovering it. At last he +climbed up again, holding it in his hands, and still muttering to +himself-- + +"His cap, sure enough; nothing in it, though. But he was much too +clever a devil. However, he's gone right enough; I knew he must, and +this proves it, curse him! Well, I'll wear it. He's not left behind +as much as he thought, but mad enough he'd be to think I was his +heir. I'll wear it for old acquaintance' sake. Sit down, boy," he +said aloud to me; "we're safe here, and can't be seen. I want to +talk with you." + +The rocky ledge on which we stood was about seven feet long and three +or four in breadth. On one side of it ran down the path by which we +had ascended; the other end broke off with a sheer descent into the +sea of some forty feet in the present state of the tide. High above +us rose an unscaleable cliff; at our feet lay a short descent to the +ledge on which the cap had rested, and after that another precipice. +It was not a pleasant position in which to be left alone with this +strange companion, but I was helpless, and perhaps the trace of +weakness and a something not altogether evil in his face, gave me +some courage. Little enough it was, however, and in mere desperation +I sat down on the side by the path. My companion flung himself down +on the other side, with his legs dangling over the ledge, and so sat +for a minute or two watching the sea. + +The early sun was now up, and its oblique rays set the waves dancing +with a myriad points of fire. Above us the rock cast its shadow into +the green depths below, making them seem still greener and deeper. +To my left I could see the shining sands of Polkimbra, still +desolate, and, beyond, the purple line of cliffs towards Kynance; on +my right the rock hid everything from view, except the open sea and +the gulls returning after the tempest to inspect and pry into the +fresh masses of weed and wreckage. I looked timidly at my companion. +He was still gazing out towards the sea, apparently deep in thought. +The cap was on his head, and his legs still dangled, while he +muttered to himself as if unconscious of my presence. Presently, +however, he turned towards me. + +"Got anything to eat?" + +I had forgotten it in my terror, but I had, as I crossed the kitchen, +picked up a hunch of bread to serve me for breakfast. This, with a +half-apologetic air, as if to deprecate its smallness, I produced +from my pocket and handed to him. He snatched it without a word, and +ate it ravenously, keeping his eye fixed upon me in the most +embarrassing way. + +"Got any more?" + +I was obliged to confess I had not, though sorely afraid of +displeasing him. He turned still further towards me, and stared +without a word, then suddenly spoke again. + +"What is your name?" + +Truly this man had the strangest manner of questioning. However, I +answered him duly-- + +"Jasper Trenoweth." + +"God in heaven! What?" + +He had started forward, and was staring at me with a wild surprise. +Unable to comprehend why my name should have this effect on him, but +hopeless of understanding this extraordinary man's behaviour, I +repeated the two words. + +His face had turned to an ashy white, but he slowly took his eyes off +me and turned them upon the sea, almost as though afraid to meet +mine. There was a pause. + +"Father by any chance answering to the name of Ezekiel--Ezekiel +Trenoweth?" + +Even in my fright I can remember being struck with this strange way +of speaking, as though my father were a dog; but a new fear had +gained possession of me. Dreading to hear the answer, yet wildly +anxious, I cried-- + +"Oh, yes. Do you know him? He was coming home from Ceylon, and +mother was so anxious; and then, what with the storm last night and +the cry that we heard, we were so frightened! Oh! do you know +--do you think--" + +My words died away in terrified entreaty; but he seemed not to hear +me. Still gazing out on the sea, he said-- + +"Sailed in the _Belle Fortune_, barque of 600 tons, or thereabouts, +bound for Port of Bristol? Oh, ay, I knew him--knew him well. +And might this here place be Lantrig?" + +"Our house is on the cliff above the next cove," I replied. +"But, oh! please tell me if anything has happened to him!" + +"And why should anything have happened to Ezekiel Trenoweth? +That's what I want to know. Why should anything have happened to +him?" + +He was still watching the waves as they danced and twinkled in the +sun. He never looked towards me, but plucked with nervous fingers at +his torn trousers. The gulls hovered around us with melancholy +cries, as they wheeled in graceful circles and swooped down to their +prey in the depths at our feet. Presently he spoke again in a +meditative, far-away voice-- + +"Ezekiel Trenoweth, fair, broad, and six foot two in his socks; why +should anything have happened to him?" + +"But you seem to know him, and know the ship he sailed in. Tell me-- +please tell me what has happened. Did you sail in the same ship? +And, if so, what has become of it?" + +"I sailed," said my companion, still examining the horizon, "from +Ceylon on the 12th of July, in the ship _Mary Jane_, bound for +Liverpool. Consequently, if Ezekiel Trenoweth sailed in the _Belle +Fortune_ we couldn't very well have been in the same ship, and that's +logic," said he, turning to me for the first time with a watery and +uncertain smile, but quickly withdrawing his eyes to their old +occupation. + +But he had lifted a great load from my heart, so that for very joy at +knowing my father was not among the crew of the _Mary Jane_ I could +not speak for a time, but sat watching his face, and thinking how I +should question him next. + +"Sailed in the _Mary Jane_, bound for Liverpool," he repeated, his +face twitching slightly, and his hands still plucking at his +trousers, "sailed along with--never mind who. And this boy's Ezekiel +Trenoweth's son, and I knew him; knew him well." His voice was +husky, and he seemed to have something in his throat, but he went on: +"Well, it's a strange world. To think of him being dead!" looking at +the cap--which he had taken off his head. + +"What! Father dead?" + +"No, my lad, t'other chap: him as this cap belonged to. Ah, he was a +devil, he was. Can't fancy him dead, somehow; seemed as though the +water wasn't made as could have drowned him; always said he was born +for the gallows, and joked about it. But he's gone this time, and +I've got his cap. 'Tis a hard thought that I should outlive him; +but, curse him, I've done it, and here's his cap for proof--why, what +the devil is the lad staring at?" + +During his muttered soliloquy I had turned for a moment to look +across Polkimbra Beach, when suddenly my eyes were arrested and my +heart again set violently beating by a sight that almost made me +doubt whether the events of the morning were not still part of a wild +and disordered dream. For there, at about fifty yards' distance, and +advancing along the breakers' edge, was another man, dressed like my +companion, and also watching the sea. + +"What's the matter, boy? Speak, can't you?" + +"It's a man." + +"A man! Where?" + +He made a motion forwards to look over the edge, but checked himself, +and crouched down close against the rock. + +"Lie down!" he murmured in a hoarse whisper. "Lie down low and look +over." + +My arm was clutched as though by a vice. I sank down flat, and +peered over the edge. + +"It's a man," I said, "not fifty yards off, and coming this way. +He has on a red shirt, and is watching the sea just as you did. +I don't think that he saw us." + +"For the Lord's sake don't move. Look; is he tall and dark?" + +His terrified excitement was dreadful. I thought I should have had +to shriek with pain, so tightly he clutched me, but found voice to +answer-- + +"Yes, he seems tall, and dark too, though I can't well see at--" + +"Has he got earrings?" + +"I can't see; but he walks with a stoop, and seems to have a sword or +something slung round his waist." + +"God defend us! that's he! Curse him, curse him! Lie down--lie +down, I say! It's death if he catches sight of us." + +We cowered against the rock. My companion's face was livid, and his +lips worked as though fingers were plucking at them, but made no +sound. I never saw such abject, hopeless terror. We waited thus for +a full minute, and then I peered over the ledge again. + +He was almost directly beneath us now, and was still watching the +sea. At his side hung a short sheath, empty. I could not well see +his face, but the rings in his ears glistened in the sunlight. + +I drew back cautiously, for my companion was plucking at my jacket. + +"Listen," he said--and his hoarse voice was sunk so low that I could +scarcely catch his words--"Listen. If he catches us it's death-- +death to me, but perhaps he may let you off, though he's a +cold-blooded, murderous devil. However, there's no saying but you +might get off. Any way, it'll be safest for you to have this. +Here, take it quick, and stow it away in your jacket, so as he can't +see it. For the love of God, look sharp!" + +He took something out of a pocket inside his shirt, and forced it +into my hands. What it was I could not see, so quickly he made me +hide it in my jacket. But I caught a glimpse of something that +looked like brass, and the packet was hard and heavy. + +"It's death, I say; but you may be lucky. If he does for me, swear +you'll never give it up to him. Take your Bible oath you'll never do +that. And look here: if I'm lucky enough to get off, swear you'll +give it back. Swear it. Say, 'Strike me blind!'" + +He clutched me again. Shaking and trembling, I gave the promise. + +"And look, here's a letter; put it away and read it after. If he +does for me--curse him!--you keep what I've given you. Yes, keep it; +it's my last Will and Testament, upon my soul. But you ought to go +half shares with little Jenny; you ought, you know. You'll find out +where she lives in that there letter. But you'll never give it up to +him. Swear it. Swear it again." + +Again I promised. + +"Mind you, if you do, I'll haunt you. I'll curse you dying, and +that's an awful thing to happen to a man. Look over again. +He mayn't be coming--perhaps he'll go through to the next beach, and +then we'll run for it." + +Again I peered over, but drew back as if shot; for just below me was +a black head with glittering earrings, and its owner was steadily +coming up the path towards us. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +TELLS HOW A SONG WAS SUNG AND A KNIFE DRAWN UPON DEAD MAN'S ROCK. + +There was no escape. I have said that the ascent of Dead Man's Rock +was possible, but that was upon the northern side, from which we were +now utterly cut off. Hemmed in as we were between the sheer cliff +and the precipice, we could only sit still and await the man's +coming. Utter fear had apparently robbed my companion of all his +faculties, for he sat, a stony image of despair, looking with +staring, vacant eyes at the spot where his enemy would appear; while +as for me, dreading I knew not what, I clung to the rock and listened +breathlessly to the sound of the footsteps as they came nearer and +nearer. Presently, within about fifteen feet, as I guess, of our +hiding-place, they suddenly ceased, and a full, rich voice broke out +in song-- + + "Sing hey! for the dead man's eyes, my lads; + Sing ho! for the dead man's hand; + For his glittering eyes are the salt sea's prize, + And his fingers clutch the sand, my lads-- + Sing ho! how they grip the land! + + "Sing hey! for the dead man's lips, my lads; + Sing ho! for the dead man's soul. + At his red, red lips the merrymaid sips + For the kiss that his sweetheart stole, my lads-- + Sing ho! for the bell shall toll!" + +The words were full and clear upon the morning air--so clear that +their weird horror, together with the strangeness of the tune (which +had a curious catch in the last line but one) and, above all, the +sweetness of the voice, held me spellbound. I glanced again at my +companion. He had not changed his position, but still sat +motionless, save that his dry lips were again working and twitching +as though they tried to follow the words of the song. Presently the +footsteps again began to advance, and again the voice broke out-- + + "So it's hey! for the homeward bound, my lads, + And ho! for the drunken crew. + For his messmates round lie dead and drowned, + And the devil has got his due, my Lads-- + Sing ho! but he--" + +He saw us. He had turned the corner, and stood facing us; and as he +faced us, I understood my companion's horror. The new-comer wore a +shirt of the same red colour as my comrade, and trousers of the same +stuff, but less cut and torn with the rocks. At his side hung an +empty sheath, that must once have held a short knife, and the handle +of another knife glittered above his waistband. But it was his face +that fascinated all my gaze. Even had I no other cause to remember +it, I could never forget the lines of that wicked mouth, or the +glitter in those cruel eyes as their first sharp flash of surprise +faded into a mocking and evil smile. + +For a minute or so he stood tranquilly watching our confusion, while +the smile grew more and more devilishly bland. Not a word was +spoken. What my comrade did I know not, but, for myself, I could not +take my eyes from that fiendish face. + +At last he spoke: in a sweet and silvery voice, that in company with +such eyes was an awful and fantastic lie, he spoke-- + +"Well, this is pleasant indeed. To run across an old comrade in +flesh and blood when you thought him five fathom deep in the salt +water is one of the pleasantest things in life, isn't it, lad? +To put on sackcloth and ashes, to go about refusing to be comforted, +to find no joy in living because an old shipmate is dead and drowned, +and then suddenly to come upon him doing the very same for you--why, +there's nothing that compares with it for real, hearty pleasure; is +there, John? You seem a bit dazed, John: it's too good to be true, +you think? Well, it shows your good heart; shows what I call real +feeling. But you always were a true friend, always the one to depend +upon, eh, John? Why don't you speak, John, and say how glad you are +to see your old friend back, alive and hearty?" + +John's lips were trembling, and something seemed working in his +throat, but no sound came. + +"Ah, John, you were always the one for feeling a thing, and now the +joy is too much for you. Considerate, too, it was of you, and really +kind--but that's you, John, all over--to wear an old shipmate's cap +in affectionate memory. No, John, don't deprive yourself of it." + +The wretched man felt with quivering fingers for the cap, took it +off and laid it on the rock beside me, but never spoke. + +"And who is the boy, John? But, there, you were always one to +make friends. Everybody loves you; they can't help themselves. +Lucy loved you when she wouldn't look at me, would she? You were +always so gentle and quiet, John, except perhaps when the drink was +in you: and even then you didn't mean any harm; it was only your +play, wasn't it, John?" + +John's face was a shade whiter, and again something worked in his +throat, but still he uttered no word. + +"Well, anyhow, John, it's a real treat to see you--and looking so +well, too. To think that we two, of all men, should have been on the +jib-boom when she struck! By the way, John, wasn't there another +with us? Now I come to think of it, there must have been another. +What became of him? Did he jump too, John?" + +John found speech at last. "No; I don't think he jumped." The words +came hoarsely and with difficulty. I looked at him; cold and +shivering as he was, the sweat was streaming down his face. + +"No? I wonder why." + +No answer. + +"You're quite sure about it, John? Because, you know, it would be a +thousand pities if he were thrown up on this desolate shore without +seeing the faces of his old friends. So I hope you are quite sure, +John; think again." + +"He didn't jump." + +"No?" + +"He fell." + +"Poor fellow, poor fellow!" The words came in the softest, sweetest +tones of pity. "I suppose there is no mistake about his melancholy +end?" + +"I saw him fall. He just let go and fell; it's Bible oath, Captain-- +it's Bible oath. That's how it happened; he just--let go--and fell. +I saw it with my very eyes, and--Captain, it was your knife." +To this effect John, with great difficulty and a nervous shifting +stare that wandered from the Captain to me until it finally rested +somewhere out at sea. + +The Captain gave a sharp keen glance, smiled softly, set his thin +lips together as though whistling inaudibly, and turned to me. + +"So you know John, my boy? He's a good fellow, is John; just the +sort of quiet, steady, Christian man to make a good companion for the +young. No swearing, drinking, or vice about John Railton; and so +truthful, too--the very soul of truth! Couldn't tell a lie for all +the riches of the Indies. Ah, you are in luck to have such a friend! +It's not often a good companion is such good company." + +I looked helplessly at the model of truth to see how he took this +tribute; but his eyes were still fixed in that eternal stare at the +sea. + +"And so, John, you saw him fall? 'Who saw him die?'--'I,' said the +soul of truth, 'with my little eye'--and you have very sharp eyes, +John. However, the poor fellow's gone; 'fell off,' you say? I don't +wonder you feel it so; but, John, with all our sympathy for the +unfortunate dead, don't you think this is a good opportunity for +reading the Will? We three, you know, may possibly never meet again, +and I am sure our young friend--what name did you say? Jasper?--I am +sure that our young friend Mr. Jasper would like the melancholy +satisfaction of hearing the Will." + +The man's eyes were devilish. John, as he faced about and caught +their gaze, looked round like a wild beast at bay. + +"Will? What do you mean? I don't know--I haven't got no Will." + +"None of your own, John, none of your own; but maybe you might know +something of the last Will and Testament of--shall we say--another +party? Think, John; don't hurry, think a bit." + +"Lord, strike me--" + +"Hush, John, hush! Think of our young friend Mr. Jasper. Besides, +you know, you were such a friend of the deceased--such a real +friend--and knew all his secrets so thoroughly, John, that I am sure +if you only consider quietly, you must remember; you who watched his +last moments, who saw him--'fall,' did you say?" + +No answer. + +"Come, come, John; I'm sorry to press you, but really our young +friend and I must insist on an answer. For consider, John, if you +refuse to join in our conversation, we shall have to go--reluctantly, +of course, but still we shall have to go--and talk somewhere else. +Just think how very awkward that would be." + +"You devil--you devil!" + +John's voice was still hoarse and low, but it had a something in it +now that sounded neither of hope nor fear. + +"Well, yes; devil if you like: but the devil must have his due, you +know-- + + "And the devil has got his due, my lads-- + Sing hey! but he waits for you! + +"Yes, John, devil or no devil, _I'm_ waiting for you. As to +having my due, why, a lucky fellow like you shouldn't grudge it. +Why, you've got Lucy, John: what more can you want? We both wanted +Lucy, but you got her, and now she's waiting at home for you. +It would be awkward if I turned up with the news that you were +languishing in gaol--I merely put a case, John--and little Jenny +wouldn't have many sweethearts if it got about that her father--and I +suppose you are her father--" + +Before the words were well out of his mouth John had him by the +throat. There was a short, fierce struggle, an oath, a gleam of +light--and then, with a screech of mortal pain and a wild clutch at +the air, my companion fell backwards over the cliff. + + +It was all the work of a moment--a shriek, a splash, and then +silence. How long the silence lasted I cannot tell. What happened +next--whether I cried or fainted, looked or shut my eyes--is to me an +absolute blank. Only I remember gradually waking up to the fact that +the Captain was standing over me, wiping his knife on a piece of weed +he had picked up on the rock, and regarding me with a steady stare. + +I now suppose that during those few moments my life hung in the +balance: but at the time I was too dazed and stunned to comprehend +anything. The Captain slowly replaced his knife, hesitated, went to +the ledge and peered over, and then finally came back to me. + +"Are you the kind of boy that's talkative?" His voice was as sweet as +ever, but his eyes were scorching me like live coals. + +I suppose I must have signified my denial, for he went on-- + +"You heard what he called me? He called me a devil; a devil, mark +you; and that's what I am." + +In my state of mind I could believe anything; so I easily believed +this. + +"Being a devil, naturally I can hear what little boys say, no matter +where I am; and when little boys are talkative I can reach them, no +matter how they hide. I come on them in bed sometimes, and sometimes +from behind when they are not looking; there's no escaping me. +You've heard of Apollyon perhaps? Well, that's who I am." + +I had heard of Apollyon in Bunyan; and I had no doubt he was speaking +the truth. + +"I catch little boys when they are not looking, and carry them off, +and then their fathers and mothers don't see any more of them. +But they die very slowly, very slowly indeed--you will find out how +if ever I catch you talking." + +But I did not at all want to know; I was quite satisfied, and +apparently he was also; for, after staring at me a little longer, he +told me to get up and go down the rock in front of him. + +The agonies I suffered during that descent no pen can describe. +Every moment I expected to feel my shoulder gripped from behind, or +to feel the hands of some mysterious and infernal power around my +neck. Close behind me followed my companion, humming-- + + "And the devil has got his due, my lads-- + Sing hey! but he waits for you!" + +And though I was far from singing hey! at the prospect, I felt that +he meant what he said. + +Arrived at the foot of the rock, we passed through the archway on to +Ready-Money Cove. Turning down to the edge of the sea, the Captain +scanned the water narrowly, but there was no trace of the hapless +John. With a muttered curse, he began quickly to climb out along the +north side of the rock, just above the sea-level, and looked again +into the depths. Once more he was disappointed. Flinging off his +clothes, he dived again and again, until from sheer exhaustion he +crept out, bundled on his shirt and trousers, and climbed back to me. + +"Curse him! where can he be?" + +I now saw for the first time how terribly worn and famished the man +was: he looked like a wolf, and his white teeth were bare in his +rage. He had cut his foot on the rock. Still keeping his evil eye +upon me, he knelt down by the water's edge and began slowly to bathe +the wound. + +"By the way, boy, what did you say your name was? Jasper? Jasper +what?" + +"Trenoweth." + +"Ten thousand devils!" + +He was on his feet, and had gripped me by the shoulder with a furious +clutch. I turned sick and cold with terror. The blue sky swam and +circled around me: then came mist and black darkness, lit only by the +gleam of two terrible eyes: a shout--and I knew no more. + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +TELLS HOW THE SAILOR GEORGIO RHODOJANI GAVE EVIDENCE AT THE +"LUGGER INN." + +I came gradually back to consciousness amid a buzz of voices. +Uncle Loveday was bending over me, his every button glistening with +sympathy, and his face full of kindly anxiety. What had happened, or +how I came to be lying thus upon the sand, I could not at first +remember, until my gaze, wandering over my uncle's shoulder, met the +Captain's eyes regarding me with a keen and curious stare. + +He was standing in the midst of a small knot of fishermen, every now +and then answering their questions with a gesture, a shrug of the +shoulders, or shake of the head; but chiefly regarding my recovery +and waiting, as I could see, for me to speak. + +"Poor boy!" said Uncle Loveday. "Poor boy! I suppose the sight of +this man frightened him." + +I caught the Captain's eye, and nodded feebly. + +"Ah, yes, yes. You see," he explained, turning to the shipwrecked +man, "your sudden appearance upset him: and to tell you the honest +truth, my friend, in your present condition--in your present +condition, mind you--your appearance is perhaps somewhat--startling. +Shall we say, startling?" + +In answer to my uncle's apologetic hesitation the stranger merely +spread out his palms and shrugged his shoulders. + +"Ah, yes. A foreigner evidently. Well, well, although our coast is +not precisely hospitable, I believe its inhabitants are at any rate +free from that reproach. Jasper, my boy, can you walk now? If so, +Joseph here will see you home, and we will do our best for the--the-- +foreign gentleman thus unceremoniously cast on our shores." + +My uncle seemed to regard magnificence of speech as the natural due +of a foreigner: whether from some hazy conception of "foreign +politeness," or a hasty deduction that what was not the language of +one part of the world must be that of another, I cannot say. At any +rate, the fishermen regarded him approvingly as the one man who +could--if human powers were equal to it--extricate them from the +present deadlock. + +"You do not happen, my friend, to be in a position to inform us +whether any--pardon the expression--any corpses are now lying on the +rocks to bear witness to this sad catastrophe?" + +Again the stranger made a gesture of perplexity. + +"Dear, dear! I forgot. Jasper, when you get home, read very +carefully that passage about the Tower of Babel. Whatever the cause +of that melancholy confusion, its reality is impressed upon us when +we stand face to face with one whom I may perhaps be allowed to call, +metaphorically, a dweller in Mesopotamia." + +As no one answered, my uncle took silence for consent, and called him +so twice--to his own great satisfaction and the obvious awe of the +fishermen. + +"It is evident," he continued, "that this gentleman (call him by what +name you will) is in immediate need of food and raiment. If such, as +I do not doubt, can be obtained at Polkimbra, our best course is to +accompany him thither. I trust my proposition meets with his +approval." + +It met, at any rate, with the approval of the fishermen, who +translated Uncle Loveday's speech into gestures. Being answered with +a nod of the head and a few hasty foreign words, they began to lead +the stranger away in their midst. As he turned to go, he glanced for +the last time at me with a strange flickering smile, at which my +heart grew sick. Uncle Loveday lingered behind to adjure Joe to be +careful of me as we went up the cliff, and then, with a promise that +he would run in to see mother later in the day, trotted after the +rest. They passed out of sight through the archway of Dead Man's +Rock. + +For a minute or so we plodded across the sand in silence. Joe +Roscorla was Uncle Loveday's "man," a word in our parts connoting +ability to look after a horse, a garden, a pig or two, or, indeed, +anything that came in the way of being looked after. At the present +moment I came in that way; consequently, after some time spent in +reflective silence, Joe began to speak. + +"You'm looking wisht." + +"Am I, Joe?" + +"Mortal." + +There was a pause: then Joe continued-- + +"I don't hold by furriners: let alone they be so hard to get +along with in the way of convarsing, they be but a heathen lot. +But, Jasper, warn't it beautiful?" + +"What, Joe?" + +"Why, to see the doctor tackle the lingo. Beautiful, I culls it; but +there, he's a scholard, and no mistake, and 'tain't no good for to +say he ain't. Not as ever I've heerd it said." + +"But, Joe, the man didn't seem to understand him." + +"Durn all furriners, say I; they be so cursed pigheaded. Understand? +I'll go bail he understood fast enough." + +Joe's opinions coincided so fatally with my certainty that I held my +tongue. + +"A dweller in--what did he call the spot, Jasper?" + +"Mesopotamia." + +"Well, I can't azacly say as I've seen any from them parts, but they +be all of a piece. Thicky chap warn't in the way when prettiness was +sarved out, anyhow. Of all the cut-throat chaps as ever I see--Mark +my words, 'tain't no music as he's come after." + +This seemed so indisputable that I did not venture to contradict it. + +"I bain't clear about thicky wreck. Likely as not 'twas the one I +seed all yesterday tacking about: and if so be as I be right, a +pretty lot of lubbers she must have had aboard. Jonathan, the +coast-guard, came down to Lizard Town this morning, and said he seed +a big vessel nigh under the cliffs toward midnight, or fancied he +seed her: but fustly Jonathan's a buffle-head, and secondly 'twas +pitch-dark; so if as he swears there weren't no blue light, 'tain't +likely any man could see, let alone a daft fule like Jonathan. +But, there, 'tain't no good for to blame he; durn Government! say I, +for settin' one man, and him a born fule, to mind seven mile o' coast +on a night when an airey mouse cou'dn' see his hand afore his face." + +"What was the vessel like, Joe, that you saw?" + +"East Indyman, by the looks of her; and a passel of lubberin' +furriners aboard, by the way she was worked. I seed her miss stays +twice myself: so when Jonathan turns up wi' this tale, I says to +myself, 'tis the very same. Though 'tis terrible queer he never +heard nowt; but he ain't got a ha'porth o' gumption, let alone that +by time he's been cloppin' round his seven mile o' beat half a dozen +ships might go to kingdom come." + +With this, for we had come to the door of Lantrig, Joe bid me +good-bye, and turned along the cliffs to seek fresh news at +Polkimbra. + +Instead of going indoors at once I watched his short, oddly-shaped +figure stride away, and then sat down on the edge of the cliff for a +minute to collect my thoughts. The day was ripening into that mellow +glory which is the peculiar grace of autumn. Below me the sea, still +flaked with spume, was gradually heaving to rest; the morning light +outlined the cliffs in glistening prominence, and clothed them, as +well as the billowy clouds above, with a reality which gave the lie +to my morning's adventure. The old doorway, too, looked so familiar +and peaceful, the old house so reassuring, that I half wondered if I +had not two lives, and were not coming back to the old quiet everyday +experience again. + +Suddenly I remembered the packet and the letter. I put my hand into +my pocket and drew them out. The packet was a tin box, strapped +around with a leathern band: on the top, between the band and the +box, was a curious piece of yellow metal that looked like the half of +a waist-buckle, having a socket but without any corresponding hook. +On the metal were traced some characters which I could not read. +The tin box was heavy and plain, and the strap soaking with salt +water. + +I turned to the letter; it was all but a pulp, and in its present +state illegible. Carefully smoothing it out, I slipped it inside the +strap and turned to hide my prize; for such was my fear of the man +who called himself Apollyon, that I could know no peace of mind +whilst it remained about me. How should I hide it? After some +thought, I remembered that a stone or two in the now empty cow-house +had fallen loose. With a hasty glance over my shoulder, I crept +around and into the shed. The stones came away easily in my hand. +With another hurried look, I slipped the packet into the opening, +stole out of the shed, and entered the house by the back door. + +My mother had been up for some time--it was now about nine o'clock-- +and had prepared our breakfast. Her face was still pale, but some of +its anxiety left it as I entered. She was evidently waiting for me +to speak. Something in my looks, however, must have frightened her, +for, as I said nothing, she began to question me. + +"Well, Jasper, is there any news?" + +"There was a ship wrecked on Dead Man's Rock last night, but they've +not found anything except--" + +"What was it called?" + +"The _Mary Jane_--that is--I don't quite know." + +Up to this time I had forgotten that mother would want to know about +my doings that morning. As an ordinary thing, of course I should +have told her whatever I had seen or heard, but my terror of the +Captain and the awful consequences of saying too much now flashed +upon me with hideous force. I had heard about the _Mary Jane_ from +the unhappy John. What if I had already said too much? I bent over +my breakfast in confusion. + +After a dreadful pause, during which I felt, though I could not see, +the astonishment in my mother's eyes, she said-- + +"You don't quite know?" + +"No; I think it must have been the _Mary Jane_, but there was a +strange sailor picked up. Uncle Loveday found him, and he seemed to +be a foreigner, and he said--I mean--I thought--it was the name, +but--" + +This was worse and worse. Again at my wits' end, I tried to go on +with my breakfast. After awhile I looked up, and saw my mother +watching me with a look of mingled surprise and reproach. + +"Was this sailor the only one saved?" + +"No--that is, I mean--yes; they only found one." + +I had never lied to my mother before, and almost broke down with the +effort. Words seemed to choke me, and her saddening eyes filled me +with torment. + +"Jasper dear, what is the matter with you? Why are you so strange?" + +I tried to look astonished, but broke down miserably. Do what I +would, my eyes seemed to be beyond my control; they would not meet +her steady gaze. + +"Uncle Loveday is coming up later on. He's looking after the Cap--I +mean the sailor, and said he would run in afterwards." + +"What is this sailor like?" + +This question fairly broke me down. Between my dread of the Captain +and her pained astonishment, I could only sit stammering and longing +for the earth to gape and swallow me up. Suddenly a dreadful +suspicion struck my mother. + +"Jasper! Jasper! it cannot be--you cannot mean--that it was _his_ +ship?" + +"No, mother, no! Father is all right. He said--I mean--it was not +his ship." + +"Oh! thank God! But you are hiding something from me! What is it? +Jasper dear, what are you hiding?" + +"Mother, I think it was the _Mary Jane_. But it was not father's +ship. Father's all right. And, mother, don't ask me any more; Uncle +Loveday will tell all about it. And--I'm not very well, mother. I +think--" + +Want of sleep, indeed, and the excitement of the morning, had broken +me down. My mother stifled her desire to hear more, and tenderly saw +me to bed, guessing my fatigue, but only dimly apprehensive of +anything beyond. In bed I lay all that morning, but could get no +sleep. The vengeance of that dreadful man seemed to fill the little +room and charge the atmosphere with horror. "I come on them in bed +sometimes, and sometimes from behind when they're not looking"--the +words rang in my ears, and could not be muffled by the bed-clothes; +whilst, if I began to doze, the dreadful burthen of his song-- + + "And the devil has got his due, my lads-- + Sing ho! but he waits for you!"-- + +With the peculiar catch of its lilt, would suddenly make me start up, +wide awake, with every nerve in my body dancing to its grisly +measure. + +At last, towards noon, I dozed off into a restless slumber, but only +to see each sight and hear each sound repeated with every grotesque +and fantastic variation. Dead Man's Rock rose out of a sea of blood, +peopled with hundreds of ghastly faces, each face the distorted +likeness of John or the Captain. Blood was everywhere--on their +shirts, their hands, their faces, in splashes across the rock itself, +in vivid streaks across the spume of the sea. The very sun peered +through a blood-red fog, and the waves, the mournful gulls, the +echoes from the cliff, took up the everlasting chorus, led by one +silvery demoniac voice-- + + "Sing ho! but he waits for you!" + +Finally, as I lay tossing and tormented with this phantom horror in +my eyes and ears, the sound died imperceptibly away into the soft +hush of two well-known voices, and I opened my eyes to see mother +with Uncle Loveday standing at my bedside. + +"The boy's a bit feverish," said my uncle's voice; "he has not got +over his fright just yet." + +"Hush! he's waking!" replied my mother; and as I opened my eyes she +bent down and kissed me. How inexpressibly sweet was that kiss after +the nightmare of my dream! + +"Jasper dear, are you better now? Try to lie down and get some more +sleep." + +But I was eager to know what news Uncle Loveday had to tell, so I sat +up and questioned him. There was little enough; though, delivered +with much pomp, it took some time in telling. Roughly, it came to +this:-- + +A body had been discovered--the body of a small infant--washed up on +the Polkimbra Beach. This would give an opportunity for an inquest; +and, in fact, the coroner was to arrive that afternoon from Penzance +with an interpreter for the evidence of the strange sailor, who, it +seemed, was a Greek. Little enough had been got from him, but he +seemed to imply that the vessel had struck upon Dead Man's Rock from +the south-west, breaking her back upon its sunken base, and then +slipping out and subsiding in the deep water. It must have happened +at high tide, for much coffee and basket-work was found upon +high-water line. This fixed the time of the disaster at about +4 a.m., and my mother's eyes met mine, as we both remembered that it +was about that hour when we heard the wild despairing cry. For the +rest, it was hopeless to seek information from the Greek sailor +without an interpreter; nor were there any clothes or identifying +marks on the child's body. The stranger had been clothed and fed at +the Vicarage, and would give his evidence that afternoon. Hitherto, +the name of the vessel was unknown. + +At this point my mother's eyes again sought mine, and I feared fresh +inquiries about the _Mary Jane_; but, luckily, Uncle Loveday had +recurred to the question of the Tower of Babel, on which he delivered +several profound reflections. Seeing me still disinclined to +explain, she merely sighed, and was silent. + +But when Uncle Loveday had broken his fast and, rising, announced +that he must drive down to be present at the inquest, to our +amazement, mother insisted upon going with him. Having no suspicion +of her deadly fear, he laughed a little at first, and quoted Solomon +on the infirmities of women to an extent that made me wonder what +Aunt Loveday would have said had he dared broach such a subject to +that strong-minded woman. Seeing, however, that my mother was set +upon going, he desisted at last, and put his cart at her service. +Somewhat to her astonishment, as I could see, I asked to be allowed +to go also, and, after some entreaty, prevailed. So we all set out +behind Uncle Loveday's over-fed pony for Polkimbra. + +There was a small crowd around the door of the "Lugger Inn" when we +drove up. It appeared that the coroner had just arrived, and the +inquest was to begin at once. Meanwhile, the folk were busy with +conjecture. They made way, however, for my uncle, who, being on such +occasions a person of no little importance, easily gained us entry +into the Red Room where the inquiry was about to be held. As we +stepped along the passage, the landlord's parrot, looking more than +ever like Aunt Elizabeth, almost frightened me out of my wits by +crying, "All hands lost! All hands lost! Lord ha' mercy on us!" Its +hoarse note still sounded in my ears, when the door opened, and we +stood in presence of the "crowner's quest." + +I suppose the Red Room of the "Lugger" was full; and, indeed, as the +smallest inquest involves at least twelve men and a coroner, to say +nothing of witnesses, it must have been very full. But for me, as +soon as my foot crossed the threshold, there was only one face, only +one pair of eyes, only one terrible presence, to be conscious of and +fear. I saw him at once, and he saw me; but, unless it were that his +cruel eye glinted and his lips grew for the moment white and fixed, +he betrayed no consciousness of my presence there. + +The coroner was speaking as we entered, but his voice sounded as +though far away and faint. Uncle Loveday gave evidence, and I have a +dim recollection of two rows of gleaming buttons, but nothing more. +Then Jonathan, the coast-guardsman, was called. He had seen, or +fancied he saw, a ship in distress near Gue Graze; had noticed no +light nor heard any signal of distress; had given information at +Lizard Town. The rocket apparatus had been got out, and searchers +had scoured the cliffs as far as Porth Pyg, but nothing was to be +seen. The search-party were returning, when they found a shipwrecked +sailor in company with a small boy, one Jasper Trenoweth, in +Ready-Money Cove. + +At the sound of my own name I started, and for the second time since +our entry felt the eyes of the stranger question me. At the same +time I felt my mother's clasp of my hand tighten, and knew that she +saw that look. + +The air grew closer and the walls seemed to draw nearer as Jonathan's +voice continued its drowsy tale. The afternoon sun poured in at the +window until it made the little wainscoted parlour like an oven, but +still for me it only lit up one pair of eyes. The voices sounded +more and more like those of a dream; the scratching of pens and +shuffling of feet were, to my ears, as distant murmurs of the sea, +until the coroner's voice called--"Georgio Rhodojani." + +Instantly I was wide awake, with every nerve on the stretch. Again I +felt his eyes question me, again my mother's hand tightened upon +mine, as the stranger stood up and in softest, most musical tones +gave his evidence. And the evidence of Georgio Rhodojani, Greek +sailor, as translated by Jacopo Rousapoulos, interpreter, of +Penzance, was this:-- + +"My name is Georgio Rhodojani. I am a Greek by birth, and have been +a sailor all my life. I was seaman on board the ship which was +wrecked last night on your horrible coast. The ship belonged to +Bristol, and was homeward bound, but I know neither her name nor the +name of her captain." + +At this strange opening, amazement fell upon all. For myself, the +wild incongruity of this foreign tongue from lips which I had heard +utter such fluent and flute-like English swallowed up all other +wonder. + +After a pause, seeing the marvelling looks of his audience, the +witness quietly explained-- + +"You wonder at this; but I am Greek, and cannot master your hard +names. I joined the ship at Colombo as the captain was short of +hands. I was wrecked in a Dutch vessel belonging to Dordrecht, off +Java, and worked my passage to Ceylon, seeking employment. It is +not, therefore, extraordinary that I am so ignorant, and my mouth +cannot pronounce your English language, but show me your list of +ships and I will point her out to you." + +There was a rustling of papers, and a list of East Indiamen was +handed up to him: he hastily ran his finger over the pages. Suddenly +his face lighted up. + +"Ah! this is she!--this is the ship that was wrecked last night!" + +The coroner took the paper and slowly read out--"The _James and +Elizabeth_, of Bristol. Captain--Antonius Merrydew." + +"Ah, yes, that is she. The babe here was the captain's child, born +on the voyage. There were eighteen men on board, an English boy, and +the captain's wife. The child was born off the African coast. +We sailed from Colombo on the 22nd of July last, with a cargo of +coffee and sugar. Two days ago we were off a big harbour, of which I +do not know the name; but early yesterday morning were abreast of +what you call, I think, the Lizard. The wind was S.W., and took us +into your terrible bay. All yesterday we were tacking to get out. +Towards evening it blew a gale. The captain had been ill ever since +we passed the Bay of Biscay. We hoisted no signal, and knew not what +to do, for the captain was sick, and the mate drunk. The mate began +to cry when we struck. I alone got on to the jib-boom and jumped. +What became of the others I know not, but I jumped on to the rock by +which you found me this morning. The vessel broke up in a very short +time. I heard the men crying bitterly, but the mate's voice was +louder than any. The captain of course was below, and so, when last +I saw them, were his wife and child, but she might have rushed upon +deck. I was almost sucked back twice, but managed to scramble up. +It was not until daylight that I knew I was on the mainland, and +climbed down to the sands." + +As this strange history proceeded, I know not who in that little +audience was most affected. The jury, fascinated by the sweet voice +of the speaker, as well as the mystery about the vessel and its +unwitnessed disappearance, leant forward in their seats with strained +and breathless attention. My mother could not take her eyes off the +stranger's face. As he hesitated over the name of the ship, her very +lips grew white in agonised suspense, but when the coroner read "the +_James and Elizabeth_," she sank back in her seat with a low +"Thank God!" that told me what she had dreaded, and how terribly. +I myself knew not what to think, nor if my ears had heard aright. +Part of the tale I knew to be a lie; but how much? And what of the +_Mary Jane?_ I looked round about. A hush had succeeded the closing +words of Rhodojani. Even the coroner was puzzled for a moment; but +improbable as the evidence might seem, there was none to gainsay it. +I alone, had they but known it, could give this demon the lie--I, an +unnoticed child. + +The coroner put a question or two and then summed up. Again the old +drowsy insensibility fell upon me. I heard the jury return the +usual verdict of "Accidental Death," and, as my mother led me from +the room, the voice of Joe Roscorla (who had been on the jury) +saying, "Durn all foreigners! I don't hold by none of 'em." As the +door slammed behind us, shutting out at last those piercing eyes, a +shrill screech from the landlord's parrot echoed through the house-- + +"All hands lost! Lord ha' mercy on us!" + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +TELLS HOW A FACE LOOKED IN AT THE WINDOW OF LANTRIG; AND IN WHAT +MANNER MY FATHER CAME HOME TO US. + +My mother and I walked homeward together by way of the cliffs. +We were both silent. My heart ached to tell the whole story, and +prove that my tale of the _Mary Jane_ was no wanton lie; but fear +restrained me. My mother was busy with her own thoughts. She had +seen, I knew, the glance of intelligence which the stranger gave me; +she guessed that his story was a lie and that I knew it. What she +could not guess was the horror that held my tongue fastened as with a +padlock. So, both busy with bitter thoughts, we walked in silence to +Lantrig. + +The evening meal was no better. My food choked me, and after a +struggle I was forced to let it lie almost untouched. But when the +fire was stirred, the candles lit, and I drew my footstool as usual +to her feet by the hearth, the old room looked so warm and cosy that +my pale fears began to vanish in its genial glow. I had possessed +myself of the "Pilgrim's Progress," and the volume, a dumpy octavo, +lay on my knee. As I read the story of Christian and Apollyon to its +end, a new courage fought in me with my morning fears. + +"In this combat no man can imagine, unless he has seen and heard as I +did, what yelling and hideous roaring Apollyon made all the time of +the fight: he _spake like a dragon_; and, on the other side, what +sighs and groans burst from Christian's heart. I never saw him all +the while give so much as one pleasant look, till he perceived that +he had wounded Apollyon with his two-edged sword; then indeed he did +smile and look upward! but it was the dreadfullest sight that ever I +saw." + +I glanced up at my mother, half resolved. She was leaning forward a +little and gazing into the fire, that lit up her pale face and +wonderful eyes with a sympathetic softness. I can remember now how +sweet she looked and how weary--that tender figure outlined in warm +glow against the stern, dark room. And all the time her heart was +slowly breaking with yearning for him that came not. I did not know +it then; but when does childhood know or understand the suffering of +later life? I looked down upon the page once more, turned back a +leaf or two, and read: + +"Then did Christian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind +whether to go back or stand his ground. But he considered again that +he had no armour for his back, and therefore thought that to turn his +back to him might give him greater advantage, with ease to pierce him +with his darts; therefore he resolved to venture and stand his +ground." + +"I come on them in bed sometimes, and sometimes from behind." +The words of my Apollyon came across my mind. Should I speak and +seek counsel?--What was that? + +It was a tear that fell upon my hand as it lay across my mother's +lap. Since the day when father left us I had never seen her weep. +Was it for my deceit? I looked up again and saw that her eyes were +brimming with sorrow. My fears and doubts were forgotten. I would +speak and tell her all my tale. + +"Mother." + +Somewhat ashamed at being discovered, she dried her eyes and tried to +smile--a poor pitiful smile, with the veriest ghost of joy in it. + +"Yes, Jasper." + +"Is Apollyon still alive?" + +"He stands for the powers of evil, Jasper, and they are always +alive." + +"But, I mean, does he walk about the world like a man? Is he +_really_ alive?" + +"Why, no, Jasper. What nonsense has got into your head now?" + +"Because, mother, I met him to-day. That is, he said he was +Apollyon, and that he would come and carry me off if--" + +Half apprehensive at my boldness, I cast an anxious look around as I +spoke. Nothing met my eyes but the familiar furniture and the +dancing shadows on the wall, until their gaze fell upon the window, +and rested there, whilst my heart grew suddenly stiff with terror, +and my tongue clave to my mouth. + +As my voice broke off suddenly, mother glanced at me in expectation. +Seeing my fixed stare and dropped jaw, she too looked at the window, +then started to her feet with a shriek. + +For there, looking in upon us with a wicked smile, was the white face +of the sailor Rhodojani. + +For a second or two, petrified with horror, we stood staring at it. +The evil smile flickered for a moment, baring the white teeth and +lighting the depths of those wolfish eyes; then, with a fiendish +laugh, vanished in the darkness. + +He had, then, told the truth when he promised to haunt me. +Beyond the shock of mortal terror, I was but little amazed. +It seemed but natural that he should come as he had threatened. +Only I was filled with awful expectation of his vengeance, and stood +aghast at the consequences of my rashness. By instinct I turned to +my mother for protection. + +But what ailed her? She had fallen back in her chair and was still +staring with parted lips at the dark pane that a minute ago had +framed the horrid countenance. When at last she spoke, her words +were wild and meaningless, with a dreadful mockery of laughter that +sent a swift pang of apprehension to my heart. + +"Mother, it is gone. What is the matter?" + +Again a few meaningless syllables and that awful laugh. + +And so throughout that second awful night did she mutter and laugh, +whilst I, helpless and terror-stricken, strove to soothe her and +recall her to speech and sense. The slow hours dragged by, and still +I knelt before her waiting for the light. The slow clock sounded the +hours, and still she gave no sign of understanding. The mice crept +out of their accustomed holes and jumped back startled at her laugh. +The fire died low and the candles died out; the wind moaned outside, +the tamarisk branches swished against the pane; the hush of night, +with its intervals of mysterious sound, held the house; but all the +time she never ceased to gaze upon the window, and every now and +then to mutter words that were no echo of her mind or voice. +Daylight, with its premonitory chill, crept upon us at last, but oh, +how slowly! Daylight looked in and found us as that cruel sight had +left us, helpless and alone. + +But with daylight came some courage. Had there been neighbours near +Lantrig I should have run to summon them before, but Polkimbra was +the nearest habitation, and Polkimbra was almost two miles off, +across a road possessed by horrors and perhaps tenanted by that +devilish face. And how could I leave my mother alone? But now that +day had come I would run to Lizard Town and see Uncle Loveday. +I slipped on my boots, unbolted the door, cast a last look at my +mother still sitting helpless and vacant of soul, and rushed from the +house. The sound of her laughter rang in my ears as the door closed +behind me. + +Weak, haggard and wild of aspect, I ran and stumbled along the +cliffs. Dead Man's Rock lay below wrapped in a curtain of mist. +Thick clouds were rolling up from seaward; the grey light of +returning day made sea, sky and land seem colourless and wan. +But for me there was no sight but Polkimbra ahead. As I gained the +little village I ran down the hill to the "Lugger" and knocked upon +the door. Heavens! how long it was before I was answered. At last +the landlady's head appeared at an upper window. With a few words to +Mrs. Busvargus, which caused that worthy soul to dress in haste with +many ejaculations, I raced up the hill again and across the downs for +Lizard Town. My strength was giving way; my head swam, my sides +ached terribly, my legs almost refused to obey my will, and a +thousand lights danced and sparkled before my eyes, but still I kept +on, now staggering, now stumbling, but still onward, nor stopped +until I stood before Uncle Loveday's door. + +There at last I fell; but luckily against the door, so that in a +moment or two I became conscious of Aunt Elizabeth standing over me +and regarding me as a culprit caught red-handed in some atrocious +crime. + +"Hoity-toity! What's the matter now? Why, it's Jasper! Well, of +all the freaks, to come knocking us up! What's the matter with the +boy? Jasper, what ails you?" + +Incoherently I told my story, at first to Aunt Elizabeth alone, but +presently, in answer to her call, Uncle Loveday came down to hear. +The pair stood silent and wondering. + +They were not elaborately dressed. Aunt Elizabeth, it is true, was +smothered from head to foot in a gigantic Inverness cape, that might +have been my uncle's were it not obviously too large for that little +man. Her nightcap, on the other hand, was ostentatiously her own. +No other woman would have had strength of mind to wear such a +head-dress. Uncle Loveday's costume was even more singular; for the +first time I saw him without a single brass button, and for the first +time I understood how much he owed to those decorations. His first +words were-- + +"Jasper, I hope you are telling me the truth. Your mother told me +yesterday of some cock-and-bull story concerning the _Anna Maria_ or +some such vessel. I hope this is not another such case. I have told +you often enough where little boys who tell falsehoods go to." + +My white face must have been voucher for my truth on this occasion; +for Aunt Elizabeth cut him short with the single word "Breakfast," +and haled me into the little parlour whilst the pair went to dress. + +As I waited, I heard the sound of the pony without, and presently +Aunt Elizabeth returned in her ordinary costume to worry the small +servant who laid breakfast. Whether Uncle Loveday ever had that meal +I do not know to this day, for whilst it was being prepared I saw him +get into the little carriage and drive off towards Lantrig. I was +told that I could not go until I had eaten; and so with a sore heart, +but no thought of disobedience, I turned to breakfast. + +The meal had scarcely begun when the door opened and Master Thomas +Loveday sauntered into the room. Master Thomas Loveday, a youth of +some eight summers, was, in default of a home of his own, quartered +permanently upon my uncle, whose brother's son he was. His early +days had been spent in India. After, however, both father and mother +had succumbed to the climate of Madras, he was sent home to England, +and had taken root in Lizard Town. Hitherto, his life had been one +long lazy slumber. Whenever we were sent, on his rare visits to +Lantrig, to "play together," as old age always rudely puts it, his +invariable rule had been to go to sleep on the first convenient spot. +Consequently his presence embarrassed me not a little. He was a +handsome boy, with blue eyes, long lashes, fair hair, and a gentle +habit of speech. When I came to know him better, I learnt the quick +wit and subtle power that lay beneath his laziness of manner; but at +present the soul of Thomas Loveday slept. + +He was certainly not wide awake when he entered the room. With a +sleepy nod at me, and no trace of surprise at my presence, he pursued +his meal. Occasionally, as Aunt Elizabeth put a fresh question, he +would regard her with a long stare, but otherwise gave no sign of +animation. This finally so exasperated my aunt that she addressed +him-- + +"Thomas, do not stare." + +Thomas looked mildly surprised for a moment, and then inquired, "Why +not?" + +"Does the boy think I'm a wild Indian?" The question was addressed +to me, but I could not say, so kept a discreet silence. Thomas +relieved me from my difficulty by answering, "No," thoughtfully. + +"Then why stare so? I'm sure I don't know what boys are made of, +nowadays." + +"Slugs and snails and puppy-dogs' tails," was the dreamy answer. + +"Thomas, how dare you? I should like to catch the person who taught +you such nonsense. I'd teach him!" + +"It was Uncle Loveday," remarked the innocent Thomas. + +There was an awful pause; which I broke at length by asking to be +allowed to go. Aunt Elizabeth saw her way to getting rid of the +offender. + +"Thomas, you might walk with Jasper over the downs to Lantrig. +It will be nice exercise for you." + +"It may be exercise, aunt, but--" + +"Do not answer me, but go. Where do you expect little boys will go +to, who are always idle?" + +"Sleep?" hazarded Thomas. + +"Thomas, you shall learn the whole of Dr. Watts's poem on the +sluggard before you go to bed this night." + +At this the boy slowly rose, took his cap, stood before her, and +solemnly repeated the whole of that melancholy tale, finishing the +last line at the door and gravely bowing himself out. I followed, +awestruck, and we set out in silence. + +At first, anxiety for my mother possessed all my thoughts, but +presently I ventured to congratulate Tom on his performance. + +"She has read it to me so often," replied he, "that I can't help +knowing it. I hate Dr. Watts, and I love to go to sleep. I dream +such jolly things. Sleep is ever so much nicer than being awake, +isn't it?" + +I wanted sleep, having had but little for two nights, and could +therefore agree with him. + +"You get such jolly adventures when you dream," said Tom, +reflectively. + +I had been rather surfeited with adventures lately, so held my peace. + +"Now, real life is so dull. If one could only meet with +adventures--" + +I caught the sound of wheels behind us, and turned round. We had +struck off the downs on to the high road. A light gig with one +occupant was approaching us. As it drew near the driver hailed us. + +"Hullo! lads, is this the road for Polkimbra?" + +The speaker was a short, grizzled, seafaring man, with a kind face +and good-humoured mouth. He drove execrably, and pulled his quiet +mare right back upon her haunches. + +I answered that it was. + +"Are you bound for there? Yes? Jump up then. I'll give you a +lift." + +I looked at Tom; he, of course, was ready for anything that would +save trouble, so we clambered up beside the stranger. + +"There was a wreck there yesterday, I've heard," said he, after we +had gone a few yards, "and an inquest, and, by the tale I heard, a +lot of lies told." + +I started. The man did not notice it, but continued-- + +"Maybe you've heard of it. Well, it's a rum world, and a fine lot of +lies gets told every day, but you don't often get so accomplished a +liar as that chap--what's his name? Blessed if I can tackle it; not +but what it's another lie, I'll wager." + +I was listening intently. He continued more to himself than to us-- + +"An amazing liar, though I wonder what his game was. It beats me; +beats me altogether. The '_James and Elizabeth_,' says he, as large +as life. I take it the fellow couldn't 'a been fooling who brought +the news to Falmouth. Didn't know me from Adam, and was fairly put +about when he saw how I took it, and, says he, ''twas the _James and +Elizabeth_ the chap said, as sure as I stand here.' Boy, do you +happen to know the name of the vessel that ran ashore here, night +afore last?" + +I had grown accustomed to being asked this dreadful question, and +therefore answered as bravely as I could. "The _James and +Elizabeth_, sir." + +"Captain's name?" + +"Captain Antonius Merrydew." + +"Ah, poor chap! He was lying sick below when she struck, wasn't he? +And he had a wife aboard, and a child born at sea, hadn't he? +Fell sick in the Bay o' Biscay, like any land-lubber, didn't he? +Why, 'tis like play-actin'; damme! 'tis better than that." + +With this the man burst into a shout of laughter and slapped his +thigh until his face grew purple with merriment. + +"What d'ye think of it, boy, for a rare farce? Was ever the likes of +it heard? Captain Antonius Merrydew sick in the Bay o' Biscay! +Ho, ho! Where's play-actin' beside it?" + +"Wasn't it true, sir?" + +"True? God bless the boy! Look me in the face: look me in the +face, and then ask me if it's true." + +"But why should it not be true, sir?" + +"Because I am Captain Antonius Merrydew!" + +For the rest of the journey I sat stunned. Thomas beside me was wide +awake and staring, seeing his way to an adventure at last. It was I +that dreamed--I heard without comprehension the rest of the captain's +tale:--how he had come, after a quick passage from Ceylon, to +Falmouth with the barque _James and Elizabeth_, just in time to hear +of this monstrous lie; how he was unmarried, and never had a day's +illness in his life; how, suspecting foul play, he had hired a horse +and gig with a determination to drive over to Polkimbra and learn the +truth; how a horse and gig were the most cursedly obstinate of +created things; with much besides in the way of oaths and +ejaculations. All this I must have heard, for memory brought them +back later; but I did not listen. My life and circumstances had got +the upper hand of me, and were dancing a devil's riot. + +At last, after much tacking and porting of helm, we navigated +Polkimbra Hill and cast anchor before the "Lugger." There we +alighted, thanked the captain, and left him piping all hands to the +horse's head. His cheery voice followed us down to the sands. + +We had determined to cut across Polkimbra Beach and climb up to +Lantrig by Ready-Money Cliffs, as in order to go along the path above +the cliffs we should have to ascend Polkimbra Hill again. The beach +was so full of horror to me that without a companion I could not have +crossed it; but Tom's presence lent me courage. Tom was nearer to +excitement than I had ever seen him; he grew voluble; praised the +captain, admired his talk, and declared adventure to be abroad in the +air--in fact, threw up his head as though he scented it. + +Yes, adventure was in the air. It was not exactly to my taste, +however, nor did the thought of my poor mother at home make me more +sympathetic with Tom's ecstasy; so whilst he chattered I strode +gloomily forward over the beach. + +The day was drawing towards noon. October was revelling in an +after-taste of summer, and smiled in broad glory over beach and sea. +A light breeze bore eastward a few fleecy clouds, and the waves +danced and murmured before its breath. Their salt scent was in +our nostrils, and the glitter of the sand in our eyes. Black and +sombre in the clear air, Dead Man's Rock rose in gloomy isolation +from the sea, while the sea-birds swept in glistening circles round +its summit. But what was that at its base? + +Seemingly, a little knot of men stood at the water's edge. As we +drew nearer I could distinguish their forms but not their occupation, +for they stood in a circle, intent on some object in their midst +concealed from our view. Presently, however, they fell into a rough +line as though making for the archway to Ready-Money Cove. Something +they carried among them, and continually stooped over; but what it +was I could not see. Their pace was very slow, but they turned into +the arch and were disappearing, when I caught sight of the uncouth +little figure of Joe Roscorla among the last, and ran forward, +hailing him by name. + +At the sound of my voice Joe started, turned round and made a slow +pause; then, with a few words to his neighbour, came quickly towards +me. As he drew near, I saw that his face was white and his manner +full of embarrassment; but he put on a smile, and spoke first-- + +"Why, Jasper, what be doin' along here?" + +"I'm going home. Has Uncle Loveday seen mother? And is she better?" + +"Aw iss, he've a seen her an' she be quieter: leastways, he be bound +to do her a power o' good. But what be goin' back for? 'Tain't no +use botherin' indoors wi' your mother in thicky wisht state. +Run about an' get some play." + +"What were you doing down by the Rock just now, Joe?" + +Joe hesitated for a while; stammered, and then said, "Nuthin." + +"But, Joe, you were doing something: what were you carrying over to +Ready-Money?" + +"Look-ee here, my lad, run an' play, an' doan't ax no questions. +'Tain't for little boys to ax questions. Now I comes to think of it, +Doctor said as you was to stay over to Lizard Town, 'cos there ain't +no need of a passel of boys in a sick house: so run along back." + +Joe's voice had a curious break in it, and his whole bearing was so +unaccountable that I did not wonder when Tom quietly said-- + +"Joe, you're telling lies." + +Now Joe was, in an ordinary way, the soul of truth: so I looked for +an explosion. To my surprise, however, he took no notice of the +insult, but turned again to me-- + +"Jasper, lad, run along back: do'ee now." + +His voice was so full of entreaty that a sudden suspicion took hold +of me. + +"Joe, is--has anything happened to mother?" + +"Noa, to be sure: she'll be gettin' well fast enough, if so be as you +let her be." + +"Then I'll go and see Uncle Loveday, and find out if I am really to +go back." + +I made a motion to go, but he caught me quickly by the arm. + +"Now, Jasper, doan't-'ee go: run back, I tell'ee--run back--I tell'ee +you _must_ go back." + +His words were so earnest and full of command that I turned round and +faced him. Something in his eyes filled me with sickening fear. + +"Joe, what were you carrying?" + +No answer. + +"Joe, what were you carrying?" + +Still no answer; but an appealing motion of the hand. + +"Joe, what was it?" + +"Go back!" he said, hoarsely. "Go back!" + +"I will not, until I have seen what you were carrying." + +"Go back, boy: for God's sake go back!" + +I wrenched myself from his grasp, and ran with all speed. Joe and +Tom followed me, but fear gave me fleetness. Behind I could hear +Joe's panting voice, crying, "Come back!" but the agony in his tone +set me running faster. I flew through the archway, and saw the small +procession half-way across the cove. At my shout they halted, +paused, and one or two advanced as if to stop me. But I dashed +through their hands into their midst, and saw--God in heaven! +What? The drowned face of my father! + +Tenderly as women they lifted me from the body. Gently and with +tear-stained faces, they stood around and tried to comfort me. +Reverently, while Joe Roscorla held me in his arms behind, they took +up the corpse of him they had known and loved so well, and carried it +up the cliffs to Lantrig. As they lifted the latch and bore the body +across the threshold, a yell of maniac laughter echoed through the +house to the very roof. + +And this was my father's "Welcome Home!" + +Nay, not all; for as Uncle Loveday started to his feet, the door +behind him flew open, and my mother, all in white, with very madness +in her eyes, rushed to the corpse, knelt, caught the dead hand, +kissed and fondled the dead face, cooing and softly laughing the +while with a tender rapture that would have moved hell itself to +pity. + +In this manner it was that these two fond lovers met. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +TELLS HOW UNCLE LOVEDAY MADE A DISCOVERY; AND WHAT THE TIN BOX +CONTAINED. + +An hour afterwards I was sitting at the bedside of my dying mother. +The shock of that terrible meeting had brought her understanding--and +death: for as her mind returned her life ebbed away. White and +placid she lay upon her last bed, and spoke no word; but in her eyes +could be read her death-warrant, and by me that which was yet more +full of anguish, a tender but unfading reproach. This world is full +of misunderstandings, but seldom is met one so desperate. How could +I tell her now? And how could she ever understand? It was all too +late. "Too late! too late!" the words haunted me there as the bright +sun struggled through the drawn blind and illumined her saintly face. +They and the look in her sweet eyes have haunted me many a day since +then, and would be with me yet, did I not believe she knows the truth +at last. There are too many ghosts in my memories for Heaven to +lightly add this one more. + +She was dying--slowly and peacefully dying, and this was the end of +her waiting. He had returned at last, this husband for whose coming +she had watched so long. He had returned at last, after all his +labour, and had been laid at her feet a dead man. She was free to go +and join her love. To me, child as I was, this was sorely cruel. +Death, as I know now, is very merciful even when he seems most +merciless, but as I sat and watched the dear life slowly drift away +from me, it was a hard matter to understand. + +The pale sunlight came, and flickered, and went; but she lay to all +seeming unchanged. Her pulse's beat was failing--failing; the broken +heart feebly struggling to its rest; but her sad eyes were still the +same, appealing, questioning, rebuking--all without hope of answer or +explanation. So were they when the sobbing fishermen lifted her from +the body, so would they be until closed for the last sleep. It was +very cruel. + +My father's body lay in the room below, with Uncle Loveday and Mrs. +Busvargus for watchers. Now and again my uncle would steal softly +upstairs, and as softly return with hopelessness upon his face. +The clock downstairs gave the only sound I heard, as it marked the +footsteps of the dark angel coming nearer and nearer. Twice my +mother's lips parted as if to speak; but though I bent down to catch +her words, I could hear no sound. + +So, as I sat and watched her waxen face, all the sweet memories of +her came back in a sad, reproachful train. Once more we sat together +by the widowed hearth, reading: once more we stood upon the rocky +edge of Pedn-glas and looked into the splendours of the summer sunset +"for father's ship:" once more we knelt together in Polkimbra Church, +and prayed for his safe return: once more I heard that sweet, low +voice--once more? Ah, never, never more! + +Uncle Loveday stole into the room on tip-toe, and looked at her; then +turned and asked-- + +"Has she spoken yet?" + +"No." + +He was about to leave when the lips parted again, and this time she +spoke-- + +"He is coming, coming. Hush! that is his step!" + +The dark eyes were ablaze with expectation: the pale cheek aglow with +hope. I bent down over the bed, for her voice was very low. + +"He is coming, I know it. Listen! Oh, husband, come quicker, +quicker!" + +Alas! poor saint, the step you listen for has gone before, and is +already at the gate of heaven. + +"He is here! Oh, husband, husband, you have come for me!" + +A moment she sat up with arms outstretched, and glory in her face; +then fell back, and the arms that caught her were the arms of God. + + +After the first pang of bereavement had spent itself, Uncle Loveday +got me to bed, and there at last I slept. The very bewilderment of +so much sorrow enforced sleep, and sleep was needed: so that, worn +out with watching and excitement, I had not so much as a dream to +trouble me. It was ten o'clock in the morning when I awoke, and saw +my uncle sitting beside the bed. Another sun was bright in the +heavens outside: the whole world looked so calm and happy that my +first impulse was to leap up and run, as was my custom, to mother's +room. Then my eyes fell on Uncle Loveday, and the whole dreadful +truth came surging into my awakened brain. I sank back with a low +moan upon the pillow. + +Uncle Loveday, who had been watching me, stepped to the bed and took +my hand. + +"Jasper, boy, are you better?" + +After a short struggle with my grief, I plucked up heart to answer +that I was. + +"That's a brave boy. I asked, because I have yet to tell you +something. I am a doctor, you know, Jasper, and so you may take my +word when I say there is no good in what is called 'breaking news.' +It is always best to have the pain over and done with; at least, +that's my experience. Now, my dear boy, though God knows you have +sorrow enough, there is still something to tell: and if you are the +boy I take you for, it is best to let you know at once." + +Dimly wondering what new blow fortune could deal me, I sat up in bed +and looked at my uncle helplessly. + +"Jasper, you think--do you not--that your father was drowned?" + +"Of course, uncle." + +"He was not drowned." + +"Not drowned!" + +"No, Jasper, he was murdered." + +The words came slowly and solemnly, and even with the first shock of +surprise the whole truth dawned upon me. This, then, explained the +effect my name had wrought upon those two strange men. This was the +reason why, as we sat together upon Dead Man's Rock, the eyes of John +Railton had refused to meet mine: this was the reason why his +murderer had gripped me so viciously upon Ready-Money Beach. +These few words of my uncle's began slowly to piece together the +scattered puzzle of the last two days, so that I half guessed the +answer as I asked-- + +"Murdered! How?" + +"He was stabbed to death." + +I knew it, for I remembered the empty sheath that hung at Rhodojani's +waist, and heard again Railton's words, "Captain, it was your knife." +As certainly as if I had fitted the weapon to its case, I knew that +man had prompted father's murder. Even as I knew it my terror of him +faded away, and a blind and helpless hate sprang up in its stead: +helpless now, but some day to be masterful and worthy of heed. +That the man who called himself Georgio Rhodojani was guilty of one +death, I knew from the witness of my own eyes: that he had two more +lives upon his black account--for the hand that struck my father had +also slain my mother--I knew as surely. + + "And the devil has got his due, my lads!" + +No, not yet: there was still one priceless soul for him to wait for. + +"He was stabbed," repeated Uncle Loveday, "stabbed to the heart, and +from behind. I found this blade as I examined your poor father's +body. It was broken off close to the hilt, and left in the wound, +which can hardly have bled at all. Death must have been immediate. +It's a strange business, Jasper, and a strange blade by the look of +it." + +I took the blade from his hand. It was about four inches in length, +sharp, and curiously worked: one side was quite plain, but the other +was covered with intricate tracery, and down the centre, bordered +with delicate fruit and flowers, I spelt out the legend "Ricordati." + +"What does that word mean?" I asked, as I handed back the steel. +My voice was so calm and steady that Uncle Loveday glanced at me for +a moment in amazement before he answered-- + +"It's not Latin, Jasper, but it's like Latin, and I should think must +mean 'Remember,' or something of the sort." + +"'Remember,'" I repeated. "I will, uncle. As surely as father was +murdered, I will remember--when the time comes." + +They were strange words from a boy. My uncle looked at me again, but +doubtless thinking my brain turned with grief, said nothing. + +"Have you told anybody?" I asked at length. + +"I have seen nobody. There will be an inquest, of course, but in +this case an inquest can do nothing. Murderer and murdered have both +gone to their account. By the way, I suppose nothing has been seen +of the man who gave evidence. It was an unlikely tale; and this +makes it the more suspicious. Bless my soul!" said my uncle, +suddenly, "to think it never struck me before! Your father was to +sail in the _Belle Fortune_, and this man gave the name of the ship +as the _James and Elizabeth_." + +"It was the _Belle Fortune_, and the man told a falsehood." + +"I suppose it must have been." + +"I know it was." + +"Know? How do you know?" + +"Because the _James and Elizabeth_ is lying at this moment in +Falmouth Harbour, and her captain is down at the 'Lugger.'" + +Thereupon I told how I had met with Captain Antonius Merrydew. +Nay, more, for my heart ached for confidence, I recounted the whole +story of my meeting with John Railton, and the struggle upon Dead +Man's Rock. Every word I told, down to the dead man's legacy--the +packet and letter which I hid in the cow-house. As the tale +proceeded my uncle's eyes grew wider and wider with astonishment. +But I held on calmly and resolutely to the end, nor after the first +shock of wonderment did he doubt my sanity or truthfulness, but grew +more and more gravely interested. + +When I had finished my narrative there was a long silence. Finally +Uncle Loveday spoke-- + +"It's a remarkable story--a very remarkable story," he said, slowly +and thoughtfully. "In all my life I have never heard so strange a +tale. But the man must be caught. He cannot have gone far, if, as +you say, he was here at Lantrig only the night before last. I expect +they are on the look-out for him down at Polkimbra since they have +heard the captain's statement; but all the same I will send off Joe +Roscorla, who is below, to make sure. I must have a pipe, Jasper, to +think this over. As a general rule I am not a smoker: your aunt does +not--ahem!--exactly like the smell. But it collects the thoughts, +and this wants thinking over. Meanwhile, you might dress if you feel +well enough. Run to the shed and get the packet; we will read it +over together when I have finished my pipe. It is a remarkable +story," he repeated, as he slowly opened the door, "a most marvellous +story. I must have a pipe. A most--remarkable--tale." + +With this he went downstairs and left me to dress. + +I did so, and ran downstairs to the cow-shed. No one had been there. +With eager fingers I tore away the bricks from the crumbling mortar, +and drew out my prize. The buckle glittered in the light that stole +through the gaping door. All was safe, and as I left it. + +Clutching my treasure, I ran back to the house and found Mrs. +Busvargus spreading the midday meal. Until that was over, I knew +that Uncle Loveday would not attack the mystery. He was sitting +outside in the front garden smoking solemnly, and the wreaths of his +pipe, curling in through the open door, filled the house with +fragrance. + +I crept upstairs to my mother's door, and reverently entered the +dim-lit room. They had laid the two dead lovers side by side upon +the bed. Very peacefully they slept the sleep that was their +meeting--peacefully as though no wickedness had marred their lives or +wrought their death. I could look upon them calmly now. My father +had left his heritage--a heritage far different from that which he +went forth to win; but I accepted it nevertheless. Had they known, +in heaven, the full extent of that inheritance, would they not, as I +kissed their dead lips in token of my acceptance, have given some +sign to stay me? Had I known, as I bent over them, to what the oath +in my heart would bring me, would I even then have renounced it? +I cannot say. The dead lips were silent, and only the dead know what +will be. + +Uncle Loveday was already at table when I descended. But small was +our pretence of eating. Mrs. Busvargus, it is true, had lost no +appetite through sorrow; but Mrs. Busvargus was accustomed to such +scenes, and in her calling treated Death with no more to-do than she +would a fresh customer at her husband's inn. Long attendance at +death-beds seemed to have given that good woman a perennial youth, +and certainly that day she seemed to have lost the years which I had +gained. Uncle Loveday made some faint display of heartiness; but it +was the most transparent feigning. He covered his defection by +pressing huge helpings upon me, so that my plate was bidding fair to +become a new Tower of Babel, when Mrs. Busvargus interposed and swept +the meal away; after which she disappeared into the back kitchen to +"wash up," and was no more seen; but we heard loud splashings at +intervals as if she had found a fountain, and were renewing her youth +in it. + +Left to ourselves, we sat silent for a while, during which Uncle +Loveday refilled and lit his pipe and plunged again into thought, +with his eyes fixed on the rafters. Whether because his cogitations +led to something, or the tobacco had soothed him sufficiently, he +finally turned to me and asked-- + +"Have you got that packet?" + +I produced it. He took his big red handkerchief from his pocket, +spread it on the table, and began slowly to undo the strap. +Then after arranging apart the buckle, the letter, and the tin box, +he inquired-- + +"Was it like this when the man gave it to you?" + +"No, the letter was separate. I slipped it under the strap to keep +it safe." + +"It seems to me," said my uncle, adjusting his spectacles and +unfolding the paper, "illegible, or almost so. It has evidently been +thoroughly soaked with salt water. Come here and see if your young +eyes can help me to decipher it." + +We bent together over the blurred handwriting. The letter was +evidently in a feminine hand; but the characters were rudely and +inartistically formed, while every here and there a heavy down-stroke +or flourish marred the beauty of the page. Wherever such thick lines +occurred the ink had run and formed an illegible smear. Such as it +was, with great difficulty, and after frequent trials, we spelt out +the letter as follows:-- + + "The Welc . . . Home, Barbican, Plymo." + "My Deerest Jack,--This to hope it will find You quite well, as + it leaves Me at present. Also to say that I hope this voyage + . . . _new Leaf_ with Simon as Companny, who is a _Good + Friend_, though, as you well know, I did not think . . . came + _courting me_. But it is for the best, and . . . liquor . . . + which I pray to Heaven may begin happier Days. Trade is very + poor, and I do not know . . . little Jenny, who is getting on + _Famously_ with her Schooling. She keaps the Books already, + which is a great saving . . . looks in often and sits in the + parlour. He says as you have Done Well to be . . . _Wave_, but + misdoubts Simon, which I tell him must be wrong, for it was him + that advised . . . the fuss and warned against liquor, which he + never took Himself. Jenny is so Fond of her Books, and says she + will _teech you to write_ when you come home, which will be a + great _Comfort_, you being away so long and never a word. And I + am doing wonders under her teaching, which I dare say she will + let you know of it all in the letter she is writing to go along + with this . . . Simon to write for you, who is a . . . scholar, + which is natural . . . in the office. So that I wonder he left + it, having no taste for the sea that ever I heard . . . be the + making of you both. I forgot to tell . . . very strange when he + left, but what with the hurry and bussle it _slipped my mind_ + . . . wonderful to me to think of, my talking to you so natural + . . . distance. And so no more at present from your loving + wife," + "LUCY RAILTON." + + "Jenny says . . . will not alter, being more like as if it came + from me. Munny is very scarce. I wish you could get . . ." + +This was all, and small enough, as I thought, was the light it threw +on the problem before us. Uncle Loveday read it over three or four +times; then folded up the letter and looked at me over his +spectacles. + +"You say this cut-throat fellow--this Rhodojani, as he called +himself--spoke English?" + +"As well as we do. He and the other spoke English all the time." + +"H'm! And he talked about a Jenny, did he?" + +"He was saying something about 'Jenny not finding a husband' when +John Railton struck him." + +"Then it's clear as daylight that he's called Simon, and not Georgio. +Also if I ever bet (though far be it from me) I would bet my buttons +that his name is no more Rhodojani than mine is Methuselah." + +He paused for a moment, absorbed in thought; then resumed-- + +"This Lucy Railton is John Railton's wife and keeps a public-house +called the 'Welcome Home!' on the Barbican, Plymouth. Simon, that is +to say Rhodojani, was in love with Lucy Railton, and his conduct, +says she, was strange before leaving; but he pretended to be John +Railton's friend, and, from what you say, must have had an +astonishing influence over the unhappy man. Simon, we learn, is a +scholar," pursued my uncle, after again consulting the letter, "and I +see the word 'office' here, which makes it likely that he was a clerk +of some kind, who took to the sea for some purpose of his own, and +induced Railton to go with him, perhaps for the same purpose, perhaps +for another. Anyhow, it seems it was high time for Railton to go +somewhere, for besides the references to liquor, which tally with +Simon's words upon Dead Man's Rock, we also meet with the ominous +words 'the fuss,' wherein, Jasper, I find the definite article not +without meaning." + +Uncle Loveday was beaming with conscious pride in his own powers of +penetration. He acknowledged my admiring attention with a modest +wave of the hand, and then proceeded to clear his throat +ostentatiously, as one about to play a trump card. + +"As I say, Jasper, this fellow must have had some purpose to drag him +off to sea from an office stool--some strong purpose, and, from what +we know of the man, some ungodly purpose. Now, the question is, What +was it? On the Rock, as you say, he charged John Railton with having +a certain Will in his possession. Your father started from England +with a Will in his possession. This is curious, to say the +least--very curious; but I do not see how we are to connect this with +the man Simon's sudden taste for the sea, for, you know, he could not +possibly have heard of Amos Trenoweth's Will." + +"You and aunt were the only people father told of it." + +"Quite so; and your father (excuse me, Jasper) not being a born fool, +naturally didn't cry his purpose about the streets of Plymouth when +he took his passage. Still, it's curious. Your father sailed from +Plymouth and this pair of rascals sailed from Plymouth--not that +there's anything in that; hundreds sail out of the Sound every week, +and we have nothing to show when Simon and John started--it may have +been before your father. But look here, Jasper, what do you make of +that?" + +I bent over the letter, and where my uncle's finger pointed, read, +"He says as you have Done Well to be . . . _Wave_." + +"Well, uncle?" + +"Well, my boy; what do you make of it?" + +"I can make nothing of it." + +"No? You see that solitary word '_Wave_'?" + +"Yes." + +"What was the ship called in which your father sailed?" + +"The _Golden Wave_." + +"That's it, the _Golden Wave_. Now, what do you make of it?" + +My uncle leaned back in his chair and looked at me over his +spectacles, with the air of one who has played his trump card and +watches for its effect. A certain consciousness of merit and +expectancy of approbation animated his person; his reasoning +staggered me, and he saw it, nor was wholly displeased. +After waiting some time for my reply, he added-- + +"Of course I may be wrong, but it's curious. I do not think I am +wrong, when I mark what it proves. It proves, first, that these two +ruffians--for ruffians they both were, as we must conclude, in spite +of John Railton's melancholy end--it proves, I say, that these two +sailed along with your father. They come home with him, are wrecked, +and your father's body is found--murdered. Evidence, slight +evidence, but still worthy of attention, points to them. Now, if it +could be proved that they knew, at starting or before, of your +father's purpose, it would help us; and, to my mind, this letter goes +far to prove that wickedness of some sort was the cause of their +going. What do you think?" + +Uncle Loveday cleared his throat and looked at me again with +professional pride in his diagnosis. There was a pause, broken only +by Mrs. Busvargus splashing in the back kitchen. + +"Good heavens!" said my uncle, "is that woman taking headers? +Come, Jasper, what do you think?" + +"I think," I replied, "we had better look at the tin box." + +"Bless my soul! There's something in the boy, after all. I had +clean forgotten it." + +The box was about six inches by four, and some four inches in depth. +The tin was tarnished by the sea, but the cover had been tightly +fastened down and secured with a hasp and pin. Uncle Loveday drew +out the pin, and with some difficulty raised the lid. Inside lay a +tightly-rolled bundle of papers, seemingly uninjured. These he drew +out, smoothed, and carefully opened. + +As his eyes met the writing, his hand dropped, and he sank back--a +very picture of amazement--in his chair. + +"My God!" + +"What's the matter?" + +"It's your father's handwriting!" + +I looked at this last witness cast up by the sea and read, "The +Journal of Ezekiel Trenoweth, of Lantrig." + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +CONTAINS THE FIRST PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL; SETTING FORTH HIS +MEETING WITH MR. ELIHU SANDERSON, OF BOMBAY; AND MY GRANDFATHER'S +MANUSCRIPT. + +It was indeed my father's Journal, thus miraculously preserved to us +from the sea. As we sat and gazed at this inanimate witness, I +doubt not the same awe of an all-seeing Providence possessed the +hearts of both of us. Little more than twenty-four hours ago had my +dead father crossed the threshold of his home, and now his voice had +come from the silence of another world to declare the mystery of his +death. It was some minutes before Uncle Loveday could so far control +his speech as to read aloud this precious manuscript. And thus, in +my father's simple language, embellished with no art, and tricked out +in no niceties of expression, the surprising story ran:-- + +"May 23rd, 1848.--Having, in obedience to the instructions of my +father's Will, waited upon Mr. Elihu Sanderson, of the East India +Company's Service, in their chief office at Bombay, and having from +him received a somewhat singular communication in my father's +handwriting, I have thought fit briefly to put together some record +of the same, as well as of the more important events of my voyage, +not only to refresh my own memory hereafter, if I am spared to end my +days in peace at Lantrig, but also being impelled thereto by certain +strange hints conveyed in this same communication. These hints, +though I myself can see no ground for them, would seem to point +towards some grave bodily or spiritual peril; and therefore it is my +plain duty, seeing that I leave a beloved wife and young son at home, +to make such provision that, in case of misadventure or disaster, +Divine Providence may at least have at my hands some means whereby to +inform them of my fate. For this reason I regret the want of +foresight which prevented my beginning some such record at the +outset; but as far as I can reasonably judge, my voyage has hitherto +been prosperous and without event. Nevertheless, I will shortly set +down what I can remember as worthy of remark before I landed at this +city of Bombay, and trust that nothing of importance has slipped my +notice. + +"On the 3rd of February last I left my home at Lantrig, travelling by +coach to Plymouth, where I slept at the 'One and All' in Old Town +Street, being attracted thither by the name, which is our Cornish +motto. The following day I took passage for Bombay in the _Golden +Wave_, East Indiaman, Captain Jack Carey, which, as I learnt, was due +to sail in two days. It had been my intention, had no suitable +vessel been found at Plymouth, to proceed to Bristol, where the +trade is much greater; but on the Barbican--a most evil-smelling +neighbourhood--it was my luck to fall in with a very entertaining +stranger, who, on hearing my case, immediately declared it to be a +most fortunate meeting, as he himself had been making inquiries to +the same purpose, and had found a ship which would start almost +immediately. He had been, it appeared, a lawyer's clerk, but on the +death of his old employer (whose name escapes my memory), finding his +successor a man of difficult temper, and having saved sufficient +money to be idle for a year or two, had conceived the wish to travel, +and chosen Bombay, partly from a desire to behold the wonders of the +Indies, and partly to see his brother, who held a post there in the +East India Company's service. Having at the time much leisure, he +kindly offered to show me the vessel, protesting that should I find +it to my taste he was anxious for the sake of the company to secure a +passage for himself. So very agreeable was his conversation that I +embraced the opportunity which fortune thus threw in my way. +The ship, on inspection, proved much to our liking, and Captain Carey +of so honest a countenance, that the bargain was struck without more +ado. I was for returning to the 'One and All,' but first thought it +right to acquaint myself with the name of this new friend. He was +called Simon Colliver, and lived, as he told me, in Stoke, whither he +had to go to make preparation for this somewhat hasty departure, but +first advised me to move my luggage from the 'One and All' (the +comfort of which fell indeed short of the promise of so fair a name) +to the 'Welcome Home,' a small but orderly house of entertainment in +the Barbican, where, he said, I should be within easy distance of +the _Golden Wave_. The walk to Old Town Street was not far in +itself, but a good step when traversed five or six times a day; and, +moreover, I was led to make the change on hearing that the landlord +of the 'Welcome Home' was also intending to sail as seaman in +this same ship. My new acquaintance led me to the house, an +ill-favoured-looking den, but clean inside, and after a short +consultation with John Railton, the landlord, arranged for my +entertainment until the _Golden Wave_ should weigh anchor. +This done, and a friendly glass taken to seal the engagement, he +departed, congratulating himself warmly on his good fortune in +finding a fellow-traveller so much, as he protested, to his taste. + +"I must own I was not over-pleased with John Railton, who seemed a +sulky sort of man, and too much given to liquor. But I saw little of +him after he brought my box from the 'One and All.' His wife waited +upon me--a singularly sweet woman, though sorely vexed, as I could +perceive, with her husband's infirmity. She loved him nevertheless, +as a woman will sometimes love a brute, and was sorry to lose him. +Indeed, when I noticed that evening that her eyes were red with +weeping, and said a word about her husband's departure, she stared at +me for a moment in amazement, and could not guess how I came to hear +of it, 'for,' said she, 'the resolution had been so suddenly taken +that even she could scarce account for it.' She admitted, however, +that it was for the best, and added that 'Jack was a good seaman, and +she always expected that he would leave her some day.' Her chief +anxiety was for her little daughter, aged seven, whom it was hard to +have exposed to the rough language and manners of a public-house. +I comforted her as best I could, and doubt not she has found her +husband's absence a less misfortune than she anticipated. + +"The _Golden Wave_ weighed anchor on the 6th of February, and reached +Bombay after a tedious voyage of 103 days, on the 21st of May, having +been detained by contrary winds in doubling the Cape. I saw little +of Simon Colliver before starting, though he came twice, as I heard, +to the 'Welcome Home' to inquire for me, and each time found me +absent. On board, however, being the only other passenger, I was +naturally thrown much into his society, and confess that I found him +a most diverting companion. Often of a clear moonlight night would +we pace the deck together, or watch in a darker sky the innumerable +stars, on which Colliver had an amazing amount of information. +Sometimes, too, he would sing--quaint songs which I had never heard +before, to airs which I suspect, without well knowing why, were of +his own composition. His voice was of large compass--a silvery tenor +of surpassing' purity and sweetness, inasmuch as I have seen the +sailors stand spellbound, and even with tears in their eyes, at some +sweet song of love and home. Often, again, the words would be weird +and mysterious, but the voice was always delicious whether he spoke +or sang. I asked him once why with such a gift he had not tried his +fortune on the stage. At which he laughed, and replied that he could +never be bound by rules of art, or forced to sing, whatever his +humour, to an audience for which he cared nothing. I do not know why +I dwell so long upon this extraordinary man. His path of life has +chanced to run side by side with my own for a short space, and the +two have now branched off, nor in all likelihood will ever meet +again. My life has been a quiet one, and has not lain much in the +way of extraordinary men, but I doubt if many such as Simon Colliver +exist. He is a perfect enigma to me. That such a man, with such +attainments (for besides his wonderful conversation and power of +singing, he has an amazing knowledge of foreign tongues), that such a +man, I say, should be a mere attorney's clerk is little short of +marvellous. But as regards his past he told me nothing, though an +apt and ready listener when I spoke of Lantrig and of Margery and +Jasper at home. But he showed no curiosity as to the purpose of my +voyage, and in fact seemed altogether careless as well of the fate as +of the opinions of his fellow-men. He has passed out of my life; but +when I shook hands with him at parting I left with regret the most +fascinating companion it has been ever my lot to meet. + +"Our voyage, as I have said, was without event, though full of +wonders to me who had seldom before sailed far out of sight of +Pedn-glas. But on these I need not here dwell. Only I cannot pass +without mention the exceeding marvels of this city of Bombay. As I +stood upon deck on the evening before last and watched the Bhor +Ghauts (as they are called) rise gradually on the dim horizon, whilst +the long ridge of the Malabar Hill with its clustered lights grew +swiftly dyed in delicate pink and gold, and as swiftly sank back into +night, I confess that my heart was strangely fluttered to think that +the wonders of this strange country lay at my feet, and I slept but +badly for the excitement. But when, yesterday morning, I disembarked +upon the Apollo Bund, I knew not at first whither to turn for very +dismay. It was like the play-acting we saw, my dear Margery, one +Christmas at Plymouth. Every sight in the strange crowd was +unfamiliar to my Cornish eyes, and I felt sorely tempted to laugh +when I thought what a figure some of them would cut in Polkimbra, and +not less when I reflected that after all I was just as much out of +place in Bombay, though of course less noticed because of the great +traffic. As I strolled through the Bazaar, Hindoos, Europeans, Jews, +Arabs, Malays, and Negro men passed me by. Mr. Elihu Sanderson has +kindly taught me to distinguish some of these nations, but at the +time I did not know one from another, fancying them indeed all +Indians, though at a loss to account for their diversity. Also the +gaudy houses of red, blue, and yellow, the number of beautiful trees +that grew in the very streets, and the swarms of birds that crowded +every roof-top and ventured down quite fearlessly among the +passers-by, all made me gasp with wonder. Nor was I less amazed to +watch the habits of this marvellous folk, many of them to me +shocking, and to see the cows that abound everywhere and do the work +of horses. But of all this I will tell if Heaven be pleased to grant +me a safe return to Lantrig. Let me now recount my business with Mr. +Elihu Sanderson. + +"I said farewell to the captain of the _Golden Wave_ and my friend +Colliver upon the quay, meaning to ask Mr. Sanderson to recommend a +good lodging for the short time I intended to stay in Bombay. +Captain Carey had already directed me to the East India Company's +office, and hither I tried to make my way at once. Easy as it was, +however, I missed it, being lost in admiration of the crowd. When at +last I arrived at the doors I was surprised to see Colliver coming +out, until I remembered that his brother was in the Company's employ. +It seems, however, that he had been transferred to Trichinopoly some +months before, and my friend's labour was in vain. I am bound to say +that he took his disappointment with great good-humour, and made very +merry over our meeting again so soon, protesting that for the future +we had better hunt in couples among this outlandish folk; and so I +lost him again. + +"After some difficulty and delay I found myself at length in the +presence of this Mr. Elihu Sanderson, on whom I had speculated so +often. I was ushered by a clerk into his private office, and as he +rose to meet me, judged him directly to be the son of the Elihu +Sanderson mentioned in my father's Will--as indeed is the case. +A spare, dry, shrivelled man, with a mouth full of determination and +acuteness, and a habit of measuring his words as though they were for +sale, he is in everything but height the essence of every Scotchman I +remember to have seen. + +"'Good day,' said he, 'Mr.--I fancy I did not catch your name.' + +"'Trenoweth,' said I. + +"'Indeed! Trenoweth!' he repeated, and I fancy I saw a glimmer of +surprise in his eyes. 'Do I guess your business?' + +"'Maybe you do,' I replied, 'for I take it to be somewhat unusual.' + +"'Ah, yes; just so; somewhat unusual!'--and he chuckled drily-- +'somewhat unusual! Very good indeed! I suppose--eh?--you have some +credentials--some proof that you really are called Trenoweth?'--Here +Mr. Sanderson looked at me sharply. + +"In reply I produced my father's Will and the little Bible from my +jersey's side. As I did so, I felt the Scotchman's eyes examining me +narrowly. I handed him the packet. The Will he read with great +attention, glanced at the Bible, pondered awhile, and then said-- + +"'I suppose you guess that this was a piece of private business +between Amos Trenoweth, deceased, and my father, also deceased. +I tell ye frankly, Mr. Trenoweth--by the way, what is your Christian +name, eh? So you are the Ezekiel mentioned in the Will? Are you a +bold man, eh? Well, you look it, at any rate. As I was saying, I +tell ye frankly it is not the sort of business I would have +undertaken myself. But my father had his crotchets--which is odd, as +I'm supposed to resemble him--he had his crotchets, and among them +was an affection for your father. It may have been based on profit, +for your father, Mr. Trenoweth, as far as I have heard, was not +exactly a lovable man, if ye'll excuse me. If it was, I've never +seen those profits, and I've examined my father's papers pretty +thoroughly. But this is a family matter, and had better not be +discussed in office hours. Can you dine with me this evening?' + +"I replied that I should be greatly obliged; but, in the first place, +as a stranger, would count it a favour to be told of some decent +lodging for such time as I should be detained in Bombay. + +"Mr. Sanderson pondered again, tapped the floor with his foot, pulled +his short crop of sandy whiskers, and said-- + +"'Our business may detain us, for aught I know, long into the night, +Mr. Trenoweth. Ye would be doing me a favour if ye stayed with me +for a day or two. I am a bachelor, and live as one. So much the +better, eh? If you will get your boxes sent up to Craigie Cottage, +Malabar Hill--any one will tell ye where Elihu Sanderson lives--I +will try to make you comfortable. You are wondering at the name +'Craigie Cottage'--another crotchet of my father's. He was a +Scotchman, I'd have ye know; and so am I, for that matter, though I +never saw Scotch soil, being that prodigious phenomenon, a British +child successfully reared in India. But I hope to set foot there +some day, please God! Save us! how I am talking, and in office +hours, too! Good-bye, Mr. Trenoweth, and'--once more his eyes +twinkled as I thanked him and made for the door--'I would to Heaven +ye were a Scotchman!' + +"Although verily broiled with the heat, I spent the rest of the day +in sauntering about the city and drinking in its marvels until the +time when I was due to present myself at Craigie Cottage. Following +the men who carried my box, I discovered it without difficulty, +though very unlike any cottage that came within my recollection. +Indeed, it is a large villa, most richly furnished, and crowded with +such numbers of black servants, that it must go hard with them to +find enough to do. That, however, is none of my business, and Mr. +Sanderson does not seem the man to spend his money wastefully; so I +suppose wages to be very low here. + +"Mr. Sanderson received me hospitably, and entertained me to a most +agreeable meal, though the dishes were somewhat hotly seasoned, and +the number of servants again gave me some uneasiness. But when, +after dinner, we sat and smoked out on the balcony and watched the +still gardens, the glimmering houses and, above all, the noble bay +sleeping beneath the gentle shadow of the night, I confess to a +feeling that, after all, man is at home wherever Nature smiles so +kindly. The hush of the hour was upon me, and made me disinclined to +speak lest its spell should be broken--disinclined to do anything but +watch the smoke-wreaths as they floated out upon the tranquil air." + +"Mr. Sanderson broke the silence. + +"'You have not been long in coming.' + +"'Did you not expect me so soon?' + +"'Why, you see, I had not read your father's Will.' + +"I explained to him as briefly as I could the reasons which drove me +to leave Lantrig. He listened in silence, and then said, after a +pause-- + +"'You have not, then, undertaken this lightly?' + +"'As Heaven is my witness, no, whether there be anything in this +business or not.' + +"'I think,' said he, slowly, 'there is something in it. My father +had his crotchets, it is true; but he was no fool. He never opened +his lips to me on the matter, but left me to hear the first of it in +his last Will and Testament. Oddly enough, our fathers seem both to +have found religion in their old age. Mine took his comfort in the +Presbyterian shape. But it is all the same. There was some reason +for your father to repent, if rumours were true; but why mine, a +respectable servant of the East India Company, should want +consolation, is not so clear. Maybe 'twas only another form of +egotism. Religion, even, is spelt with an I, ye'll observe. + +"'An odd couple,' he continued, musing, 'to be mixed up together! +But we'll let them rest in peace. I'd better let you have what was +entrusted to me, and then, mayhap, ye'll be better able to form an +opinion.' + +"With this he rose and stepped back into the lighted room, whilst I +followed. Drawing a bunch of keys from his pocket, he opened a heavy +chest of some dark wood, intricately carved, which stood in one +corner, drew out one by one a whole pile of tin boxes, bundles of +papers and heavy books, until, almost at the very bottom of the +chest, he seemed to find the box he wanted; then, carefully replacing +the rest, closed and fastened the chest, and, after some search among +his keys, opened the tin box and handed me two envelopes, one much +larger than the other, but both bulky. + +"And here, my dear Margery, with my hand upon the secret which had +cost us so much anxious thought and such a grievous parting, I could +not help breathing to myself a prayer that Heaven had seen fit to +grant me at last some means of comforting my wife and little one and +restoring our fallen house; nor do I doubt, dear wife, you were at +that moment praying on your knees for me. I did not speak aloud, but +Mr. Sanderson must have divined my thoughts, for I fancied I heard +him utter 'Amen' beneath his breath, and when I looked up he seemed +prodigiously red and ashamed of himself. + +"The small envelope was without address, and contained 50 pounds in +Bank of England notes. These were enclosed without letter or hint as +to their purpose, and sealed with a plain black seal. + +"The larger envelope was addressed in my father's handwriting--" + +'TO THE SON OF MY HOUSE WHO, HAVING COUNTED ALL THE PERILS, IS +RESOLUTE. + +'_Mem.--To be burned in one hundred years from this date, May 4th, in +the year of our Lord MDCCCV._' + +"It likewise was sealed with a plain black seal, and contained the +manuscript which I herewith pin to this leaf of my Journal." + +[Here Uncle Loveday, who had hitherto read without comment, save an +occasional interjection, turned the page and revealed, in faded ink +on a large sheet of parchment, the veritable writing of my +grandfather, Amos Trenoweth. We both unconsciously leaned further +forward over the relic, and my uncle, still without comment, +proceeded to read aloud as follows:--] + + "From Amos Trenoweth, of Lantrig, in the Parish of Polkimbra and + County of Cornwall; to such descendant of mine as may inherit my + wealth. + + "Be it known to you, my son, that though in this parchment + mention is made of great and surpassing Wealth, seemingly but to + be won for the asking, yet beyond doubt the dangers which beset + him who would lay his hand upon this accursed store are in + nature so deadly, that almost am I resolved to fling the Secret + from me, and so go to my Grave a Beggar. For that I not only + believe, but am well assured, that not with out much Spilling + of Blood and Loss of Human Life shall they be enjoyed, I myself + having looked in the Face of Death thrice before ever I might + set Hand upon them, escaping each time by a Miracle and by + forfeit of my Soul's Peace. Yet, considering that the Anger of + Heaven is quick and not revengeful unduly, I have determined not + to do so wholly, but in part, abandoning myself the Treasure + unrighteously won, if perchance the Curse may so be appeased, + but committing it to the enterprise of another, who may escape, + and so raise a falling House. + + "You then, my Son who may read this Message, I entreat to + consider well the Perils of your Course, though to you unknown. + But to me they are known well, who have lived a Sinful Life for + the sake of this gain, and now find it but as the fruit of + Gomorrah to my lips. For the rest, my Secret is with God, from + whom I humbly hope to obtain Pardon, but not yet. And even as + the Building of the Temple was withheld from David, as being a + Shedder of Blood, but not from Solomon his son, so may you lay + your Hand to much Treasure in Gold, Silver, and Precious Stones, + but chiefly the GREAT RUBY OF CEYLON, whose beauty excels all + the jewels of the Earth, I myself having looked upon it, and + knowing it to be, as an Ancient Writer saith, 'a Spectacle + Glorious and without Compare.' + + "Of this Ruby the Traveller Marco Polo speaks, saying, 'The King + of Seilan hath a Ruby the Greatest and most Beautiful that ever + was or can be in the World. In length it is a palm, and in + thickness the thickness of a man's arm. In Splendour it + exceedeth the things of Earth, and gloweth like unto Fire. + Money cannot purchase it.' Likewise Maundevile tells of it, and + how the Great Khan would have it, but was refused; and so + Odoric, the two giving various Sizes, and both placing it + falsely in the Island of Nacumera or Nicoveran. But this I + know, that in the Island of Ceylon it was found, being lost for + many Centuries, and though less in size than these Writers + would have it, yet far exceeding all imagination for Beauty and + colour. + + "Now this Ruby, together with much Treasure beside, you may gain + with the Grace of Heaven and by following my plain words. + You will go from this place unto the Island of Ceylon, and there + proceed to Samanala or Adam's Peak, the same being the most + notable mountain of the Island. From the Resting House at the + foot of the Peak you will then ascend, following the track of + the Pilgrims, until you have passed the First Set of Chains. + Between these and the Second there lies a stretch of Forest, in + which, still following the track, you will come to a Tree, the + trunk of which branches into seven parts and again unites. + This Tree is noticeable and cannot be missed. From its base you + must proceed at a right angle to the left-hand edge of the track + for thirty-two paces, and you will come to a Stone shaped like a + Man's Head, of great size, but easily moved. Beneath this Stone + lies the Secret of the Great Ruby; and yet not all, for the rest + is graven on the Key, of which mention shall already have been + made to you. + + "These precautions I have taken that none may surprise this + Secret but its right possessor; and also that none may without + due reflection undertake this task, inasmuch as it is + prophesied that 'Even as the Heart of the Ruby is Blood and its + Eyes a Flaming Fire, so shall it be for them that would possess + it: Fire shall be their portion and Blood their inheritance for + ever.' + + "This prophecy I had from an aged priest, whose bones lie + beneath the Stone, and upon whose Sacred clasp is the Secret + written. This and all else may God pardon. Amen. + + "A. T." + + "He visiteth the iniquity of the Fathers upon the Children unto + the third and fourth generation." + +[To this extraordinary document was appended a note in another +handwriting.] + + "There is little doubt that the Ruby now in the possession of + Mr. Amos Trenoweth is the veritable Great Ruby of which the + traveller Marco Polo speaks. But, however this may be, I know + from the testimony of my own eyes that the stone is of + inestimable worth, being of the rarest colour, and in size + greatly beyond any Ruby that ever I saw. The stone is spoken + of, in addition to such writers as Mr. Trenoweth quotes, by + Friar Jordanus (in the fourteenth century), who mentions it as + 'so large that it cannot be grasped in the closed hand'; and + Ibn Batuta reckons it as great as the palm of a man's hand. + Cosmos, as far back as 550, had heard tell of it from Sopater, + and its fame extended to the sixteenth century, wherein Corsali + wrote of 'two rubies so lustrous and shining that they seem a + flame of fire.' Also Hayton, in the thirteenth century, + mentions it, telling much the same story as Sir John Maundevile, + to the effect that it was the especial symbol of sovereignty, + and when held in the hand of the newly-chosen king, enforced the + recognition of his majesty. But, whereas Hayton simply calls + it the greatest and finest Ruby in existence, Maundevile puts it + at afoot in length and five fingers in girth. Also--for I have + made much inquiry concerning this stone--it was well known to + the Chinese from the days of Hwen T'sang downward. + + "Mr. Trenoweth has wisely forborne for safety from showing it to + any of the jewellers here; but on the one occasion when I saw + the gem I measured it, and found it to be, roughly, some three + and a half inches square and two inches in depth; of its weight + I cannot speak. But that it truly is the Great Ruby of Ceylon, + the account of the Buddhist priest from, whom Mr. Trenoweth + got the stone puts out of all doubt." + + "E. S." + +"As I finished my reading, I looked up and saw Mr. Sanderson watching +me across the table. 'Well?' said he. + +"I pushed the parchment across to him, and filled a pipe. He read +the whole through very slowly, and without the movement of a muscle; +then handed it back, but said never a word. + +"'Well,' I asked, after a pause; 'what do you think of it?' + +"'Why, in the first place, that my father was a marvellously honest +man, and yours, Mr. Trenoweth, a very indiscreet one. And secondly, +that ye're just as indiscreet as he, and it will be lucky for ye if +I'm as honest as my father.' + +"I laughed. + +"'Aye, ye may laugh; but mark my words, Mr. Trenoweth. Ye've a +trustful way with ye that takes my liking; but it would surprise me +very much, sir, did ye ever lay hands on that Ruby.'" + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +CONTAINS THE SECOND PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: SETTING FORTH HIS +ADVENTURES IN THE ISLAND OF CEYLON. + +"Sept. 29th, 1848.--It is a strange thing that on the very next day +after reading my father's message I should have been struck down and +reduced to my present condition. But so it is, and now, four months +after my first entry in this Journal, I am barely able to use the pen +to add to my account. As far as I remember--for my head wanders +sadly at times--it happened thus: On the 23rd of May last, after +spending the greater part of the day in writing my Journal, and also +my first letter to my dear wife, I walked down in the cool of the +evening to the city, intending to post the latter; which I did, and +was returning to Mr. Sanderson's house, when I stopped to watch the +sun setting in this glorious Bay of Bengal. I was leaning over a low +wall, looking out on the open sea with its palm-fringed shores, when +suddenly the sun shot out a jagged flame; the sky heaved and turned +to blood--and I knew no more. I had been murderously struck from +behind. That I was found, lying to all appearance dead, with a +hideous zig-zag wound upon the scalp; that my pockets had been to all +appearance rifled (whether by the assassin or the natives that found +me is uncertain); that I was finally claimed and carried home by Mr. +Sanderson, who, growing uneasy at my absence, had set out to look for +me; that for more than a month, and then again for almost two months, +my life hung in the balance; and that I owe my recovery to Mr. +Sanderson's unceasing kindness--all this I have learnt but lately. +I can write no more at present. + +"Oct. 3rd.--I am slightly better. My mental powers are slowly coming +back after the fever that followed the wound. I pass my days mostly +in speculating on the reason of this murderous attack, but am still +unable to account for it. It cannot have been for plunder, for I do +not look like a rich man. Mr. Sanderson has his theory, but I cannot +agree with him, for nobody but ourselves knew of my father's +manuscript. At any rate, it is fortunate that I left it in my chest, +together with this Journal, before I went down to Bombay. Margery +must have had my letter by this time; Mr. Sanderson very wisely +decided to wait the result of my illness before troubling her. As it +is she need know nothing about it until we meet. + +"Oct. 14th.--Mr. Sanderson is everything that is good; indeed, had I +been a brother he could not have shown me more solicitude. But he is +obstinate in connecting my attack with the Great Ruby of Ceylon; it +is certainly a curious coincidence that this dark chapter of my life +should immediately follow my father's warning, but that is all one +can say. I shall give up trying to convince him. + +"Oct. 31st.--I am now considerably better. My strength is slowly +returning, and with it, I am glad to say, my memory. At first it +seemed as though I could remember nothing of my past life, but now my +recollection is good on every point up to the moment of my attack. +Since then, for at least the space of three months, I can recall +nothing. I am able to creep about a little, and Mr. Sanderson has +taken me for one or two excursions. Curiously enough, I thought I +saw John Railton yesterday upon the Apollo Bund. I was probably +mistaken, but at the time it caused me no surprise that he should +still be here, since I forgot the interval of three months in my +memory. If it were really Railton, he has, I suppose, found +employment of some kind in Bombay; but it seems a cruel shame for him +to desert his poor wife at home. I, alas! am doing little better, +but God knows I am anxious to be gone; however, Mr. Sanderson will +not hear a word on the subject at present. He has promised to find a +ship for me as soon as he thinks I am able to continue my travels. + +"Nov. 4th.--I was not mistaken. It was John Railton that I saw on +the Apollo Bund. I met him hovering about the same spot to-day, and +spoke to him; but apparently he did not hear me. I intended to ask +him some news of my friend Colliver, but I daresay he knows as little +of his doings as I do. Mr. Sanderson says that in a week's time I +shall be recovered sufficiently to start. I hope so, indeed, for +this delay is chafing me sorely. + +"Nov. 21st.--Mr. Sanderson has found a ship for me at last. I am to +sail in five days for Colombo in the schooner _Campaspe_, whose +captain is a friend--a business friend, that is--of my host. I shall +be the only passenger, and Mr. Sanderson has given Captain Dodge full +instructions to take care of me. But I am feeling strong enough now, +and fit for anything. + +"Nov. 23rd.--I have been down to look at the vessel, and find that a +most comfortable little cabin has been set apart for me. But the +strangest thing is that I met Colliver also inspecting the ship. +He was most surprised at seeing me, and evidently imagined me home in +England by this time. I told him of my meeting with John Railton, +and he replied-- + +"'Oh, yes; I have taken him into my service. We are going together +to Ceylon, as I have travelled about India enough for the present. +I went to visit my brother at Trichinopoly, and have only just +returned to Bombay. Unfortunately the captain of the _Campaspe_ +declares he is unable to take me, so I shall have to wait.' + +"I explained the reasons of the captain's reluctance, and offered him +a share of my cabin if Captain Dodge would consent to be burdened +with Railton's company. + +"'Oh, for that matter,' replied he, 'Railton can follow; but he's a +handy fellow, and I daresay would make himself useful without +payment.' + +"We consulted Captain Dodge, who admitted himself ready to take +another passenger, and even to accommodate Railton, if that were my +wish. Only, he explained, Mr. Sanderson had especially told him that +I should wish to be alone, being an invalid. So the bargain was +struck. + +"Mr. Sanderson did not seem altogether pleased when I informed him +that I intended to take a companion. He asked many questions about +Colliver, and was especially anxious to know if I had confided +anything of my plans to him. So far was this from being the case +that Colliver, as I informed my host, had never betrayed the least +interest in my movements. At this Mr. Sanderson merely grunted, and +asked me when I intended to learn prudence, adding that one crack in +the head was enough for most men, but he supposed I wanted more. +I admit that, pleasant companion as Colliver is, I should prefer to +be entirely alone upon this adventure. But I could not deny the +invitation without appearing unnecessarily rude, and I owe him much +gratitude for having made the outward voyage so pleasant. Besides, +we shall part at Colombo. + +"Nov. 25th.--I make this entry (my last upon Indian soil) just before +retiring to rest. To-morrow I sail for Colombo in the _Campaspe_. +But I cannot leave Bombay without dwelling once more on Mr. +Sanderson's great kindness. To-night, as we sat together for the +last time upon the balcony of Craigie Cottage, I declare that my +heart was too full for words. My host apparently was revolving other +thoughts, for when he spoke it was to say-- + +"'Visited his brother in Trichinopoly, eh? Only just returned, too-- +h'm! What I want to know is, why the devil he returned at all? +There are plenty of vessels at Madras.' + +"'But Colliver is not the man who cares to follow the shortest +distance between two points,' I answered. 'Why should he not return +to Bombay?' + +"'I'll beg ye to observe,' said Mr. Sanderson, 'that the question is +not 'why shouldn't he?' but 'why should he?'' + +"'At any rate,' said I, 'I'll be on my guard.' + +"This suspicion on my behalf has become quite a mania with my host. +I thought it best to let him grumble his fill, and then endeavoured +to thank him for his great kindness. + +"'Don't say another word,' he interrupted. 'I owe ye some reparation +for being mixed up in this at all. It's a serious matter, mark ye, +for a respectable clerk like myself to be aiding and abetting in this +mad chase; and, to tell the truth, Trenoweth, I took a fancy to ye +when first I set eyes on your face, and--Don't say another word, I'll +ask ye.' + +"My friend's eyes were full of tears. I arose, shook him silently by +the hand, and went to my room. + +"Nov. 26th.--I am off. I write this in my cabin, alone--Colliver +having had another assigned to him by Mr. Sanderson's express wish. +He saw Colliver for the first time to-day on the quay, and drew me +aside at the last moment to warn me against 'that fellow with the +devilish eyes.' As I stood on deck and watched his stiff little +figure waving me farewell until it melted into the crowd, and Bombay +sank behind me as the city of a dream, I wondered with sadness on the +little chance we had of ever meeting on this earth again. Colliver's +voice at my elbow aroused me. + +"'Odd man, that friend of yours--made up of emotion, and afraid of +his life to show it. Has he done you a favour?' + +"'He has,' I replied, 'as great a favour as one man can do for +another.' + +"'Ah,' said he, 'I thought as much. That's why he is so full of +gratitude.' + +"Dec. 6th.--Never shall I forget the dawn out of which Ceylon, the +land of my promise, arose into view. I was early on deck to catch +the first sight of land. Very slowly, as I stood gazing into the +east, the pitch-black darkness turned to a pale grey, and discovered +a long, narrow streak, shaped like the shields one sees in Bible +prints, and rising to a point in the centre. Then, as it seemed to +me, in a moment, the sun was up and as if by magic the shield had +changed into a coast fringed with palms and swelling upwards in green +and gradual slopes to a chain of mighty hills. Around these some +light, fleecy clouds had gathered, but sea and coast were radiant +with summer. So clear was the air that I could distinguish the red +sand of the beaches and the white trunks of the palms that crowded to +the shore; and then before us arose Colombo, its white houses +gleaming out one by one. + +"The sun was high by the time our pilot came on board, and as we +entered the harbour the town lay deep in the stillness of the +afternoon. We had cast anchor, and I was reflecting on my next +course of action when I heard my name called from under the ship's +side. Looking down, I spied a tall, grave gentleman seated in a +boat. I replied as well as I could for the noise, and presently the +stranger clambered up on deck and announced himself as Mr. +Eversleigh, to whom Mr. Sanderson had recommended me. I had no +notion until this moment--and I state it in proof of Mr. Sanderson's +kindness--that any arrangement had been made for entertaining me at +Colombo. It is true that Mr. Sanderson had told me, on the night +when our acquaintance began, to send this gentleman's address to +Margery, that her letter might safely reach me; but beyond this I +knew nothing. Mr. Eversleigh shook me by the hand, and, to my +unspeakable joy, handed me my dear wife's letter. + +"I say to my unspeakable joy, for no words can tell, dear wife, with +what feelings I read your letter as the little boat carried me up to +the quay. How often during the idle days of my recovery have I lain +wondering how you and Jasper were passing this weary time, and cried +out on the weakness that kept me so long dallying. Patience, dear +heart, it is but a little time now. + +"I have forgotten to speak of Colliver. He has been as delightful +and indifferent as ever throughout the voyage. Certainly I can find +no reason for crediting Mr. Sanderson's suspicions. In the hurry of +landing I missed him, not even having opportunity to ask about his +plans. Doubtless I shall see him in a day or two. + +"Dec. 10th.--What an entrancing country is this Ceylon! The monsoon +is upon us, and hinders my journey: indeed, Mr. Eversleigh advises me +not to start for some weeks. He promises to accompany me to the Peak +if I can wait, but the suspense is hard to bear. Meantime I am +drinking in the marvels of Colombo. The quaint names over the shops, +the bright dresses of white and red, the priests with their robes of +flaming yellow--all these are diverting enough, but words cannot tell +of the beauty of the country here. The roads are all of some strange +red soil, and run for miles beneath the most beautiful trees +imaginable--bamboos, palms, and others unknown to me, but covered +with crimson and yellow blossom. Then the long stretches of rice +fields, and again more avenues of palms, with here and there a lovely +pool by the wayside--all this I cannot here describe. But most +wonderful of all is the monsoon which rages over the country, +wrapping the earth sometimes in sheets of lightning which turn sea, +sky and earth to one vivid world of flame. The wind is dry and +parching, so that all windows are kept carefully closed at night; +but, indeed, the mosquitoes are sufficient excuse for that. I have +seen nothing of Colliver and Railton. + +"Dec. 31st.--New Year's Eve, and, as I hope, the dawn of brighter +days for us, dear wife. Mr. Eversleigh has to-night, been describing +Adam's Peak to me. Truly this is a most marvellous mountain, and its +effect upon me I find hard to put into words. To-day I watched it +standing solitary and royal from the low hills that surround it. +At its feet waved a very sea of green forest, around its summit were +gathered black clouds charged with lightning. Mr. Eversleigh tells +me of the worship here paid to it, and the thousands of pilgrims that +wear its crags with their patient feet. Can I hope to succeed when +so many with prayers so much more holy have failed? Even as I write, +its unmoved face is mocking the fire of heaven. I dream of the +mountain; night and day it has come to fill my life with dark terror. +I am not by nature timid or despondent, but it is hard to have to +wait here day after day and watch this goal of my hopes--so near, yet +seemingly so forbidding of access. + +"On looking back I find I have said nothing about the house where I +am now staying. It lies in the Kolpetty suburb, in the midst of most +lovely gardens, and is called Blue Bungalow, from the colour in which +it is painted. I have made many excursions with Mr. Eversleigh on +the lagoon; but for me the only object in this land of beauty is the +great Peak. I cannot endure this idleness much longer. Colliver +seems to have vanished: at least, I have not seen him. + +"Jan. 25th, 1849.--I have been in no mood lately to make any fresh +entry in my Journal. But to-morrow I start for Adam's Peak. At the +last moment my host finds himself unable to go with me, much as he +protests he desires it; but two of his servants will act as my +guides. It is about sixty miles from Colombo to the foot of the +Peak, so that in four days from this time I hope to lay my hand upon +the secret. The two natives (their real names I do not know, but Mr. +Eversleigh has christened them Peter and Paul, which I shall +doubtless find more easy of mastery than their true outlandish +titles) are, as I am assured, trusty, and have visited the mountain +before. We take little baggage beyond the necessary food and one of +my host's guns. I cannot tell how impatient I am feeling. + +"Feb. 1st.--My journey to the Peak is over. Whether from fatigue or +excitement I am feeling strangely light-headed to-day; but let me +attempt to describe as briefly as I can my adventure. We set out +from Colombo in the early morning of Jan. 26th. For about two-thirds +of our journey the road lies along the coast, stretching through +swampy rice-fields and interminable cocoanut avenues until Ratnapoora +is reached. So far the scenery does not greatly differ from that of +Colombo. But it was after we left Ratnapoora that I first realised +the true wonders of this land. Our road rose almost continuously by +narrow tracks, which in some places, owing to the late heavy rains, +were almost impassable; but Peter and Paul worked hard, and so +reduced the delay. We had not left Ratnapoora far behind when we +plunged into a tangled forest, so dense as almost to blot out the +light of day. On either hand deep ravines plunged precipitately +down, or giant trees enclosed us in black shadow. Where the sun's +rays penetrated, myriads of brilliant insects flashed like jewels; +yellow butterflies, beetles with wings of ruby-red or gold, and +dragonflies that picked out the undergrowth with fire. In the shadow +overhead flew and chattered crowds of green paroquets and glossy +crows, while here and there we could see a Bird of Paradise drooping +its smart tail-feathers amid the foliage. A little further, and deep +in the forest the ear caught the busy tap-tap of the woodpecker, the +snap of the toucan's beak, or far away the deep trumpeting of the +elephant. Once we startled a leopard that gazed a moment at us with +flaming eyes, and then was gone with a wild bound into the thicket. +From tree to tree trailed hosts of gorgeous creepers, blossoming in +orange, white and crimson, or wreathing round some hapless monarch of +the forest and strangling it with their rank growth. Still we +climbed. + +"The bridle-track now skirted a torrent, now wound dizzily round +the edge of a stupendous cliff, and again plunged into obscurity. +Here and there the ruins of some ancient and abandoned shrine +confronted us, its graceful columns entwined and matted with +vegetation; or, again, where the forest broke off and allowed our +eyes to sweep over the far prospect, the guides would point to the +place where stood, hardly to be descried, the relics of some dead +city, desolate and shrined in desolation. Even I, who knew nothing +of the past glories of Ceylon, could not help being possessed with +melancholy thoughts as I passed now a mass of deserted masonry, now a +broken column, the sole witnesses of generations gone for ever. +Some were very richly carved, but Nature's tracery was rapidly +blotting out the handiwork of man, the twining convolvulus usurping +the glories of the patient chisel. Still up we climbed, where hosts +of chattering monkeys swung from branch to branch, or poised +screaming overhead, or a frightened serpent rose with hissing mouth, +and then glided in a flash back through the undergrowth. One, that +seemed to me of a pure silver-white, started almost from under my +feet, and darted away before I could recover myself. We hardly +spoke; the vastness of Nature hushed our tongues. It seemed +presumption to raise my gun against any of the inhabitants of this +spot where man seemed so mean, so strangely out of place. Once I +paused to cut back with my knife the creepers that hid in +inextricable tangle a solitary and exquisitely carved archway. +But the archway led nowhere, its god and temple alike had perished, +and already the plants have begun their tireless work again. + +"Between the stretches of wilderness our road often led us across +rushing streams, difficult to ford at this season, or up rocky +ravines, that shut in with their towering walls all but a patch of +blue overhead. Emerging from these we would find ourselves on naked +ledges where the sun's rays beat until the air seemed that of an +oven. At such spots the plain below spread itself out as a crumpled +chart, whilst always above us, domed in the blue of a sapphire-stone, +towered the goal of our hopes, serene and relentless. But such +places were not many. More often a threatening cliff faced us, or an +endless slope closed in the view, only to give way to another and yet +another as we climbed their weary length. + +"Yet our speed was not trifling. We had passed a train of +white-clothed pilgrims in the morning soon after leaving Ratnapoora. +Since then we had seen no man except one poor old priest at the +ruined resting-house where we ate our mid-day meal. The shadow of +the forest allowed us to travel through the heat of the day, and the +thirst of discovery would have hurried me on even had the guides +protested. But they were both sturdy, well-built men, and suffered +from the heat far less than I did. So we hardly paused until, in the +first swift gloom of sunset, we emerged on the grassy lawn of +Diabetne, beneath the very face of the cone. + +"We had to rest for the night in the ruined _Ambulam_, as it is +called; and here, thoroughly tired but sleepless, I lay for some +hours and watched the innumerable stars creep out and crown that +sublime head which rose at first into a fathomless blue that was +almost black, and then as the moon swept up, flashed into unutterable +radiance. Nothing, I am told, can compare with the moonlight of +Ceylon, and I can well believe it. That night I read clearly once +again by the light of its rays my father's manuscript, that no point +in it should escape my memory; then sank down upon my rugs and slept +an uneasy sleep. + +"In an hour or two, as it seemed, I was awakened by Peter, who shook +me and proclaimed it time to be stirring if we meant to see the +sunrise from the summit. The moon was still resplendent as we +started across the three miles or 'league of heaven' that still lay +between us and the actual cone. This league traversed, we plunged +down a gully and crossed a stream whose waters danced in the silver +moonlight until the eyes were dazzled, then swept in a pearly shower +down numberless ledges of rock. After this the climb began in good +earnest. After a stretch of black forest, we issued on a narrow +track that grew steeper at every step. The moon presently ceased to +help us here, so that my guides lit torches, which flared and cast +long shadows on the rocky wall. By degrees the track became a mere +watercourse, up which we could only scramble one by one. So narrow +was it that two men could scarcely pass, yet so richly clothed in +vegetation that our torches scorched the overhanging ferns. +Peter led the way, and I followed close at his heels, for fear of +loose stones; but every now and then a crash and a startled cry from +Paul behind us told us that we had sent a boulder flying down into +the depths. Beyond this and the noise of our footsteps there was no +sound. We went but slowly, for the labour of the day before had +nearly exhausted us, but at length we scrambled out into the +moonlight again upon a rocky ledge half-way up the mountainside. + +"Here a strong breeze was blowing, that made our heated bodies +shiver until we were fain to go on. Casting one look into the gulf +below, deepened without limit in the moonlight, we lit fresh torches +and again took to the path. Before we had scrambled, now we +climbed. We had left vegetation behind us, and were face to face +with the naked rock that forms the actual Peak. At the foot of this +Peter called a halt, and pointed out the first set of chains. +Without these, in my weak state I could never have attempted the +ascent. Even as it was, my eye was dazed and my head swam and reeled +as I hung like a fly upon the dizzy side. But clutching with +desperation the chains riveted in the living rock, I hauled myself up +after Peter, and sank down thoroughly worn out upon the brink. + +"It now wanted but little before daybreak would be upon us. As I +gathered myself up for a last effort, I remembered that amid the +growth into which we were now to plunge, stood the tree of seven +trunks which was to be my mark. But my chance was small of noting it +by the light of these flaring torches that distorted every object, +and wreathed each tree into a thousand fantastic shapes. Plainly I +must stake my hopes on the descent next day; at any rate, I would +scale the summit before I began my search. + +"We had plunged into the thicket of rhododendrons, whose crimson +flowers showed oddly against the torches' gleam, and I was busy with +these thoughts, when suddenly my ankle gave way, and I fell heavily +forward. My two guides were beside me in an instant, and had me on +my feet again. + +"'All's good,' said Peter, 'but lucky it not happen otherwhere. +Only take care for last chain. But what bad with him?' + +"He might well ask; for there, full in front of my eyes that strained +and doubted, glimmered a huge trunk cleft into seven--yes, seven-- +branches that met again and disappeared in a mass of black foliage. +It was my father's tree. + +"So far then the parchment had not lied. Here was the tree, +'noticeable and not to be missed,' and barely thirty-two paces from +the spot where I was standing lay the key to the treasure which I had +travelled this weary distance to seek. But the time for search had +not yet come. By the clear light of day and alone I must explore the +secret. It would keep for a few hours longer. + +"Dismissing my pre-occupied manner which had caused no small +astonishment to Peter and Paul, I fixed the position of the tree as +firmly as I could in my mind, and gave the word to advance. + +"We then continued in the same order as before, whilst, to make +matters sure, I counted our steps. I had reached six hundred and +twenty-though when I considered the darkness and the rough path I +reflected that this was but little help--when we arrived at the +second set of chains. My foot was already beginning to give me pain, +but under any circumstances this would have been by far the worst of +the ascent. All around us stretched darkness void and horrible, +leading, for all that we could see, down through veils of curling +mist into illimitable depths. In front the rock was almost +perpendicular. The fascination of gazing down was wellnigh +resistless, but Peter ahead continually cried 'Hurry!' and the voice +of Paul behind repeated 'Hurry!' so that panting, gasping, and fit to +faint, with fingers clinging to the chain until the skin was +blistered, with every nerve throbbing and every muscle strained to +its utmost tension, I clambered, clambered, until with one supreme +effort I swung myself up to the brink, staggered rather than ran up +the last few feet of rock, and as my guides bent and with +outstretched palms raised the cry '_Saadoo! Saadoo!_' I fell +exhausted before the very steps of Buddha's shrine. + +"When I recovered, I saw just above me the open shrine perched on a +tiny terrace and surrounded by low walls of stone; a yard or two from +me the tiny hut in which its guardians live; and all around the +expanse of sky. Dawn was stealing on; already its pale light was +creeping up the east, and a bar or two of vivid fire proclaimed the +coming of the sun. The priests were astir to receive the early +pilgrims, and as Paul led me to the edge of the parapet I could see +far away below the torches of the new-comers dotted in thin lines of +fire down the mountain-side. Some pilgrims had arrived before us, +and stood shivering in their thin white garments about the summit. + +"Presently the distant sound of measured chanting came floating up on +the tranquil air, sank and died away, and rose again more loudly. +Paler and paler grew the heavens, nearer and nearer swept the +chanting; and now the first pilgrim swung himself up into our view, +quenched his torch and bowed in homage. Others following did the +same, all adoring, until the terrace was crowded with worshippers +gazing eager and breathless into the far east, where brighter and +brighter the crimson bars of morning were widening. + +"Then with a leap flashed up the sun, the dazzling centre of a flood +of golden light. Godlike and resplendent he rode up on wreaths of +twirling-mist, and with one stroke sent the shadows quivering back to +the very corners of heaven. As the blazing orb topped the horizon, +every head bent in worship, every hand arose in welcome, every voice +broke out in trembling adoration, '_Saadoo! Saadoo!_' Even I, the +only European there, could not forbear from bowing my head and +lifting up my hands, so carried away was I with the aching fervour of +this crowd. There they stood and bent until the whole fiery ball was +clear, then turning, paced to the sound of chanting up the rough +steps and laid their offerings on the shrine. Thrice at each new +offering rang out a clattering gong, and the worshipper stepped +reverently back to make way for another; while all the time the +newly-risen sun blazed aslant on their robes of dazzling whiteness. + +"As I stood watching this strange scene, Peter plucked me by the +sleeve and pointed westward. I looked, and all the wonders I had yet +viewed became as nothing. For there, disregarded by the crowd, but +plain and manifest, rose another Peak, graven in shadow upon the +western sky. Bold and confronting, it soared into heaven and, whilst +I gazed in silent awe, came striding nearer through the void air, +until it seemed to sweep down upon me--and was gone! For many a day +had the shadow of this mighty cone lain upon my soul; here, on the +very summit, that shadow took visible form and shape, then paled into +the clear blue. Has its invisible horror left me now at last? +I doubt it. + +"But by this time the sun was high, and the last pilgrim with a +lingering cry of '_Saadoo!_' was leaving the summit. So, although +my ankle was now beginning to give me exquisite pain, I gave the +order to return. Before leaving, however, I looked for a moment at +the sacred footprint, to my mind the least of the wonders of the +Peak, and resembling no foot that ever I saw. We had gone but a few +steps when I plainly guessed from the state of my ankle that our +descent would be full of danger, but the guides assured me of their +carefulness; so once more we attacked the chains. + +"How we got down I shall never fully know; but at last and after +infinite pain we stood at the foot of the cliff and entered the +forest of rhododendrons. And here, to the wild astonishment of my +guides who plainly thought me mad, I bade them leave me and proceed +ahead, remaining within call. They were full of protestations and +dismay, but I was firm. Trusty they might be, but it was well in +this matter to distrust everything and everybody. Finally, +therefore, they obeyed, and I sat watching until their white-clad +forms disappeared in the thicket. + +"As soon as I judged them to have gone a sufficient distance, I arose +and followed, cautiously counting my footsteps. But this was +needless; my father had described the tree as 'noticeable and not to +be missed,' nor was he wrong. Barely had I counted five hundred +paces when it rose into view, uncouth and monstrous. All around it +spread the crimson blossoms of huge rhododendrons; but this strange +tree was at once unlike any of its fellows and of a kind altogether +unknown to me. Its roots were partly bare, and writhed in fantastic +coils across the track. Above these rose and spread its seven trunks +matted with creepers, and then united about four feet below the point +where the branches began. Its foliage was of a dark, glossy green, +particularly dense, and its height, as I should judge, some sixty +feet. + +"Taking out my compass, I started from the left-hand side of the +narrow track, and at a right angle to it. The undergrowth gave me +much trouble, and once I had to make a circuit round a huge +rhododendron; but I fought my way through, and after going, as I +reckoned, thirty-two paces, pulled up full in front of--another +rhododendron. + +"There must be some mistake. My father had spoken of a 'stone shaped +like a man's head,' but said nothing of a rhododendron tree, and +indeed this particular tree was in nowise different from its +companions. I looked around; took a few steps to the right, then to +the left; went round the tree; walked back a few paces; returned to +the tree to see if it concealed anything; then sought the track to +begin my measurement afresh. + +"I was just starting again in a very discomposed mood, when a thought +struck me. I had been behaving like a fool. The parchment said +'at a right angle to the left-hand edge of the track.' I had started +from my left hand, but I was descending the mountain, whereas the +directions of course supposed the explorer to be ascending. +Almost ready to laugh at my stupidity, I tried again. + +"Facing round, I got the needle at an angle of ninety degrees, and +once more began counting. My heart was beginning to beat quickly by +this time, and I felt myself trembling with excitement. The course +was now more easily followed. True, the growth was as thick as ever, +but no rhododendrons blocked my passage. Beating down the creepers +that swung across my face, twined around my legs, and caught at my +cap, I measured thirty-two paces as nearly as I could, and then +stopped. + +"Before me was a patch of velvet grass, some twelve feet square and +bare of the undergrowth that crowded elsewhere; but not a trace of a +stone. I looked right and left, crossed the tiny lawn, peered all +about, but still saw nothing at all resembling what I sought. + +"As it began to dawn on me that all my hopes had been duped, my +journey vain, and my father's words an empty cheat, a sickening +despair got hold of me. My knees shook together, and big drops of +sweat gathered on my forehead. I roused myself and searched again; +again I was baffled. Distractedly I beat the bushes round and round +the tiny lawn, then flung myself down on the turf and gave way to my +despair. To this, then, it had all come; this was the end for which +I had abandoned my wife and child; this the treasure that had dangled +so long before my eyes. Fool that I had been! I cursed my madness +and the hour when I was born; never before had I heartily despised +myself, never until now did I know how the lust for this treasure had +eaten into my soul. The secret, if secret indeed there were, and all +were not a lie, was in the keeping of the silent Peak. + +"I almost wept with wrath. I tore the turf in my frenzy, and felt as +one who would fain curse God and die. But after a while my passion +spent itself. I sat up and reflected that after all my first +direction might have been the right one; at any rate, I would try it +again and explore it thoroughly. The instructions were precise, and +had been confirmed in the matter of the tree. Evidently the person +that wrote them had been upon the Peak, and what, if they were lies, +was to be gained by the cheat? + +"I pulled out the parchment again and read it through; then started +to my feet with fresh energy. I was just leaving the little lawn and +returning down my path, when it struck me that the bush on my left +hand was of a curious shape. It seemed a mere tangled knot of +creepers covered with large white blossom, and rose to about my own +height. Carelessly I thrust my stick into the mass, when its point +jarred upon--stone! + +"Yes, stone! In a moment my knife was out and I was down on hands +and knees cutting and tearing at the tendrils. Some of them were +full three inches thick, but I slashed and tugged, with breath that +came and went immoderately fast, with bleeding hands and thumping +heart, until little by little the stone was bared and its outlines +revealed themselves. + +"But as they grew distinct and I saw what I had uncovered, I fell +back in terror. The stone was about five feet ten inches in height, +and was roughly shaped to represent a human head and neck. But the +face it was that froze my heated blood in horror. Never until I die +shall I forget that hellish expression. It was the smoothly-shaven +face of a man of about fifty years of age, roughly carved after the +fashion of many of the ruins on this mountain. But whoever fashioned +it, the artist must have been a fiend. If ever malignant hate was +expressed in form, it stood before me. Even the blank pupils made +the malevolence seem but the more undying. Every feature, every line +was horrible, every touch of the chisel had added a fresh grace of +devilish spite. It was simply Evil petrified. + +"As this awful face, bared of the innocent creeper that for years had +shrouded its ugliness from the light of day, confronted me, a feeling +of such repulsion overcame me that for several minutes I could not +touch it. The neck was loosely set in a sort of socket fixed in the +earth; this was all the monster's pedestal. I saw that it barely +needed a man's strength to send it toppling over. Yet for a moment I +could summon up none. At length I put my hands to it and with an +effort sent it crashing over amid the brushwood. + +"The trough in which this colossal head had rested was about four +feet in depth, and narrowed towards the bottom. I put down my hand +and drew out--a human thigh-bone. The touch of this would have +turned me sick again, had not the statue's face already surfeited me +with horror. As it was, I was nerved for any sight. The passion of +my discovery was upon me, and I tossed the mouldering bones out to +right and left. + +"But stay. There seemed a great many in the trough. Surely this was +the third thigh-bone that I held now in my hand. Yes, and below, +close to the bottom of the trough, lay two skulls side by side. +There were two, then, buried here. The parchment had only spoken of +one. But I had no time to consider about this. What I sought now +was the Secret, and as I took up the second skull I caught the gleam +of metal underneath it. I put in my hand and drew out a Buckle of +Gold. + +"This buckle is formed of two pieces, bound to either end of a thin +belt of rotten linen, and united by hook and socket. Its whole +dimensions are but 3 inches by 2 inches, but inside its curiously +carved border it is entirely covered with writing in rude English +character. The narrowing funnel of the trough had kept it from being +crushed by the statue, which fitted into a rim running round the +interior. Beyond the buckle and the two skeletons there was nothing +in the trough; but I looked for nothing else. Here, in my hands, lay +the secret of the Great Ruby of Ceylon; my fingers clutched the +wealth of princes. My journey had ended and the riches of the earth +were in my grasp. + +"Forgetful of my guides, forgetful of the flight of time, mindful of +nothing but the Golden Buckle, I sat down by the rim of the trough +and began to decipher the writing. The inscription, as far as I +could gather, ran right across the clasp. It could be read easily +enough and contained accurate directions for searching in some spot, +but where that spot was it did not reveal. It might be close to the +statue; and I was about to start up and make the attempt when I +thought again of the parchment. Pulling it from my pocket, I read: +'_ . . . beneath this stone lies the secret of the Great Ruby; and +yet not all, for the rest is graven on the Key which shall be already +entrusted to you. These precautions have I taken that none may +surprise this Secret but its right possessor. . . ._' + +"Now my father's Will had expressly enjoined, on pain of his dying +curse, that this key should not be moved from its place until the +Trenoweth who went to seek the treasure should have returned and +crossed the threshold of Lantrig. Consequently the ruby was not +buried on Adam's Peak, or to return for the key would have been so +much labour wasted. Consequently, also, the Golden Buckle was +valueless to anybody but him who knew the rest of my father's +injunctions. Although not yet in my hand, the Great Ruby was mine. +I was folding up the buckle with the parchment before rejoining the +guides, when a curious thing happened. + +"The sun had climbed high into heaven whilst I was absorbed in my +search, and was now flooding the little lawn with light. In my +excitement I had heard and seen nothing, nor noted that the heat was +growing unbearable beneath the vertical rays. But as I was folding +up the parchment a black shadow suddenly fell across the page. +I started and looked up. + +"Above me stood Simon Colliver. + +"He was standing in the broad light of the sun and watching me +intently, with a curious smile which grew as our eyes met. How long +he had been there I could not guess, but the strangeness of meeting +him on this spot, and the occupation in which I was surprised, +discomposed me not a little. Hastily thrusting back the buckle and +the parchment into my pocket, I scrambled to my feet and stood facing +him. Even as I did so, all Mr. Sanderson's warnings came flashing +into my mind. + +"For full a minute we stood confronting each other without a word. +He was still standing in the full blaze of the sunlight, with the +same odd smile upon his face, and a peculiar light in his dark eyes +that never swerved for a moment. Finally he gave a low laugh and +nodding lightly, said-- + +"'Odd thing our meeting like this, eh? Hand of Fate or some such +thing might be mixed up in it from the way we run across each other's +path.' + +"I assented. + +"'Queer too, you'll allow, that we should both be struck with the +fancy for ascending this mountain. Very few Europeans do it, so I'm +told. I'm on my way up, are you? No? Coming down and taking things +easily, to judge by the way I found you occupied.' + +"Was the man mocking me? Or had he, after all, no suspicions? +His voice was soft and pleasant as ever, nor could I detect a trace +of irony in its tone. But I was on my guard. + +"'This Peak seems strewn with the handiwork of the heathen,' he +continued. 'But really you seem to be in luck's way. I congratulate +you. What's this? Skeletons, eh? Upon my word, Trenoweth, you've +unearthed a treasure. And this? A statue? Well, it's a queer place +to come hunting for statues, but you've picked up an ugly-looking +beggar in all conscience!' + +"He had advanced to the head, which lay in the rank herbage staring +up in hideous spite to heaven. Presently he turned to me and said-- + +"'Well, this is very remarkable. The fellow who carved this seems to +have borrowed my features--not very complimentary of him, I must say. +Don't you see the likeness?' + +"It was solemn truth. Feature by feature that atrocious face was +simply a reproduction of Colliver's. As I stared in amazement, it +seemed more and more marvellous that I had not noticed the +resemblance before. True, each feature was distorted and exaggerated +to produce the utter malignity of its expression. But the face was +the face of Colliver. Nobody could have called him a handsome man, +but before this I had found Colliver not unpleasant to look upon. +Now the hate of the statue's face seemed to have reflected itself +upon him. I leant against a tree for support and passed my hand +across my brow as if to banish a fearful dream. But it was no dream, +and when he turned to speak again I could see lurking beneath the +assumed expression of the man all the evil passions and foul +wickedness engraved upon the stone. + +"'Well,' he remarked, 'stranger things than this have happened, but +not much. You seem distressed, Trenoweth. Surely I, if any one, +have the right to be annoyed. But you let your antiquarian zeal +carry you too far. It's hardly fair to dig these poor remains from +their sepulchre and leave them to bleach beneath this tropical sun, +even in the interest of science.' + +"With this he knelt down and began to gather--very reverently, as I +thought--the bones into a heap, and replace them in their tomb. +This done, he kicked up a lump or two of turf from the little lawn +and pressed it down upon them, humming to himself all the while. +Finally he rose and turned again towards me-- + +"'You'll excuse me, Trenoweth. It's sentimental, no doubt, but I +have conceived a kind of respect for these remains. Suppose, for +example, this face was really a portrait of one of this buried pair. +Why, then the deceased was very like me. I forgive him for +caricaturing my features now; were he alive, it might be different. +But this place is sufficiently out of the way to prevent the +resemblance being noted by many. By the way, I forgot to ask how you +chanced on this spot. For my part, I thought that I heard something +moving in the thicket, so I followed the sound out of pure curiosity, +and came upon you. Well, well! it's a strange world; and it's a +wonderful thought too, that this may be the grave of some primaeval +ancestor of mine who roamed this Peak for his daily food--an ancestor +of some importance too, in his day, to judge by the magnificence of +his tomb. A poet might make something out of this: to-day face to +face with the day before yesterday. But that's the beauty of +archaeology. I did not know it was a pursuit of yours, and am glad +to see you are sufficiently recovered of your illness to take it up +again. Good-bye for the present. I am obliged to be cautious in +taking farewell of you, for we have such a habit of meeting +unexpectedly. So, as I have to be up and moving for the summit, I'll +say 'Good-bye for the present.' We may as well leave this image +where it is; the dead won't miss it, and it's handy by, at any rate. +_Addio_, Trenoweth, and best of luck to your future researches.' + +"He was gone. I could hear him singing as he went a strange song +which he had often sung on the outward voyage-- + + "'Sing hey! for the dead man's lips, my lads; + Sing ho! for the dead man's soul. + At his red, red lips. . . .' + +"The song died away in the distance before I moved. I had hardly +opened my lips during the interview, and now had much ado to believe +it a reality. But the newly-turfed grave was voucher enough for +this. A horror of the place seized me; I cast one shuddering look at +the giant face and rushed from the spot, leaving the silent creepers +to veil once more that awful likeness from the eyes of day. + +"As I emerged upon the track again I came upon Peter and Paul, who +were seeking me high and low, with dismay written upon their faces. +Excusing my absence as best I could, I declared myself ready, in +spite of my ankle, to make all haste in the descent. Of our journey +down the Peak I need say little, except that, lame as I was, I +surprised and exhausted my guides in my hurry. Of the dangers and +difficulties which had embarrassed our ascent I seemed to feel +nothing. Except in the cool of the forest, the heat was almost +insufferable; but I would hear of no delay until we reached +Ratnapoora. Here, instead of returning as we had come, we took a +boat down the Kalu-ganga river to Cattura, and thence travelled along +the coast by Pantura to Colombo. + +"The object of my journey is now accomplished: and it only remains to +hasten home with all speed. But I am feeling strangely unwell as I +write this. My head has never fully recovered that blow at Bombay, +and I think the hours during which I remained exposed to the sun's +rays, by the side of that awful image, must have affected it. +Or perhaps the fatigue of the journey has worn me out. If I am going +to sicken I must hide my secret. It would be safer to bury it with +the Journal, at any rate for the time, somewhere in the garden here. +I have a tin box that will just answer the purpose. My head is +giving me agony. I can write no more." + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +CONTAINS THE THIRD AND LAST PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: SETTING +FORTH THE MUTINY ON BOARD THE _BELLE FORTUNE_. + +"June 19th.--Strange that wherever I am hospitably entertained I +recompense my host by falling ill in his house. Since my last entry +in this Journal I have been lying at the gate of death, smitten down +with a sore sickness. It seems that the long exposure and weariness +of my journey to the Peak threw me into a fever: but of this I should +soon have recovered, were it not for my head, which I fear will never +be wholly right again. That cowardly blow upon Malabar Hill has made +a sad wreck of me; twice, when I seemed in a fair way to recovery, +has my mind entirely given way. Mr. Eversleigh, indeed, assures me +that my life has more than once been despaired of--and then what +would have become of poor Margery? I hope I am thankful to God for +so mercifully sparing my poor life, the more so because conscious how +unworthy I am to appear before Him. + +"I trust I did not betray my secret in my wanderings. Mr. Eversleigh +tells me I talked the strangest stuff at times--about rubies and +skeletons, and a certain dreadful face from which I was struggling to +escape. But the security of my Journal and the golden clasp, which I +recovered to-day, somewhat reassures me. I am allowed to walk in the +garden for a short space every day, but not until to-day have I found +strength to dig for my hoard. I can hardly describe my emotions on +finding it safe and sound. + +"Poor Margery! How anxious she must be getting at my silence. +I will write her to-morrow--at least I will begin my letter +to-morrow, for I shall not have strength to finish it in one day. +Even now I ought not to be writing, but I cannot forbear making an +entry in my recovered Journal, if only to record my thankfulness to +Heaven for my great deliverance. + +"June 22nd.--I have written to Margery, but torn the letter up on +second thoughts, as I had better wait until I hear news of a vessel +in which I can safely travel home. Mr. Eversleigh (who is very kind +to me, though not so hearty as Mr. Sanderson) will not hear of my +starting in my present condition. I wonder in what part of the world +Colliver is travelling now. + +"July 1st.--Oh, this weary waiting! Shall I never see the shores of +England again? The doctor says that I only make myself worse with +fretting; but it is hard to linger so--when at my journey's end lies +wealth almost beyond the imagination, and (what is far more to me) +the sight of my dear ones. + +"July 4th.--In answer to my entreaties, Mr. Eversleigh has consented +to make inquiries about the homeward-bound vessels starting from +Colombo. The result is that he has at once allayed my impatience, +and compassed his end of keeping me a little longer, by selecting-- +upon condition that I approve his choice--an East Indiaman due to +sail in about a fortnight's time. The name of the ship is the _Belle +Fortune_, and of the captain, Cyrus Holding. In spite of the name +the ship is English, and is a barque of about 600 tons register. +Her cargo consists of sugar and coffee, and her crew numbers some +eighteen hands. To-morrow I am going down with Mr. Eversleigh to +inspect her, but I am prepared beforehand to find her to my liking. +The only pity is that she does not start earlier. + +"July 6th.--Weak as I am, even yesterday's short excursion exhausted +me, so that I felt unable to write a word last night. I have been +over the _Belle Fortune_, and am more than pleased, especially with +her captain, whose honest face took my fancy at once. I have a most +comfortable cabin next to his set apart for me, at little cost, since +it had been fitted up for a lady on the outward voyage: so that I +shall still have a little money in pocket on my return, as my living, +both here and at Bombay, has cost me nothing, and the doctor's bills +have not exhausted my store. I wrote to Margery to-day, making as +light of my illness as I could, and saying nothing of the business on +Malabar Hill. That will best be told her when she has me home again, +and can hold my hand feeling that I am secure. + +"July 8th.--I have been down again to-day to see the _Belle Fortune_. +I forgot to say that she belongs to Messrs. Vincent and Hext, of +Bristol, and is bound for that port. The only other passengers are a +Dr. Concanen and his wife, who are acquaintances of Mr. Eversleigh. +Dr. Concanen is a physician with a good practice in Colombo, or was-- +as his wife's delicate health has forced him to throw up his +employment here and return to England. Mr. Eversleigh introduced me +to them this morning on the _Belle Fortune_. The husband is almost +as tall as my host, and looks a man of great strength: Mrs. Concanen +is frail and worn, but very lovely. To-day she seemed so ill that I +offered to give up my cabin, which is really much more comfortable +than theirs. But she would not hear of it, insisting that I was by +far the greater invalid, and that a sailing vessel would quickly set +her right again--especially a vessel bound for England. Altogether +they promise to be most pleasant companions. I forgot to say that +Mrs. Concanen is taking a native maid home to act as her nurse. + +"July 11th.--We start in a week's time. I had a long talk with +Captain Holding to-day; he hopes to make a fairly quick passage, but +says he is short of hands. I have not seen the Concanens since. + +"July 16th.--We sail to-morrow afternoon. I have been down to make +my final preparations, and find my cabin much to my liking. +Captain Holding is still short of hands. + +"July 17th., 7.30 p.m.--We cast off our warps shortly after four +o'clock, and were quickly running homeward at about seven knots an +hour. The Concanens stood on deck with me watching Ceylon grow dim +on the horizon. As the proud cone of Adam's Peak faded softly and +slowly into the evening mist, and so vanished, as I hope, for ever +out of my life, I could not forbear returning thanks to Providence, +which has thus far watched over me so wonderfully. There is a fair +breeze, and the hands, though short, do their work well to all +appearances. There were only fifteen yesterday, three having been +missed for about a week before we sailed; but I have not yet seen +Captain Holding to ask him if he made up his number of hands at the +last moment. Mrs. Concanen has invited me to their cabin to have a +chat about England. + +"July 18th.--I am more disturbed than I care to own by a very curious +discovery which I made this morning. As I issued on deck I saw a man +standing by the forecastle, whose back seemed familiar to me. +Presently he turned, and I saw him to be Simon Colliver. He has most +strangely altered his appearance, being dressed now as a common +sailor, and wearing rings in his ears as the custom is. Catching +sight of me, he came forward with a pleasant smile and explained +himself. + +"'It is no manner of use, Trenoweth; we're fated to meet. You did +not expect to see me here in this get-up; but I learnt last night you +were on board. You look as though you had seen a ghost! Don't stare +so, man--I should say 'sir' now, I suppose--it's only another of +fortune's rubs. I fell ill after that journey to the Peak, and +although Railton nursed me like a woman--he's a good fellow, Railton, +and not as rough as you would expect--I woke up out of my fever at +last to find all the money gone. I'm a fellow of resource, +Trenoweth, so I hit on the idea of working my passage home; by good +luck found the _Belle Fortune_ was short of hands, offered my +services, was accepted--having been to sea before, you know--sold my +old clothes for this costume--must dress when one is acting a part-- +and here I am.' + +"'Is Railton with you?' I asked. + +"'Oh, yes, similarly attired. I did not see you yesterday, being +busy with the cargo, so that it's all the more pleasant to meet here. +But work is the order of the day now. You'll give me a good +character to the captain, won't you? Good-bye for the present.' + +"I cannot tell how much this meeting has depressed me. Certainly I +have no reason for disbelieving the man's story, but the frequency +and strangeness of our meetings make it hard to believe them +altogether accidental. I saw Railton in the afternoon: he is greatly +altered for the worse, and, I should think, had been drinking heavily +before he shipped; but the captain was evidently too short of hands +to be particular. I think I will give the Concanens my tin box to +hide in their cabin. Of course I can trust them, and this will +baffle theft; the clasp I will wear about me. This is a happy idea; +I will go to their cabin now and ask them. It is 9.30 p.m., and the +wind is still fair, I believe. + +"July 20th.--We have so far kept up an average speed of seven and a +half knots an hour, and Captain Holding thinks we shall make even +better sailing when the hands are more accustomed to their work. +I spend my time mostly with the Concanens--who readily, by the way, +undertook the care of my tin box--and find them the most agreeable of +fellow-travellers. Mrs. Concanen has a very sweet voice, and her +husband has learnt to accompany it on the guitar, so that altogether +we spend very pleasant evenings. + +"July 21st, 22nd, 23rd.--The weather is still beautiful, and the +breeze steady. Last night, at about six in the evening, it freshened +up, and we ran all night under reefed topsails in expectation of a +squall; but nothing came of it. I trust the wind will last, not only +because it brings me nearer home, but also because without it the +heat would be intolerable. The mention of home leads me to say that +Mrs. Concanen was most sympathetic when I spoke of Margery. It is +good to be able to talk of my wife to this kind creature, and she is +so devoted to her husband that she plainly finds it easy to +sympathise. They are a most happy couple. + +"July 24th.--Our voyage, hitherto so prosperous, has been marred +to-day by a sad accident. Mr. Wilkins, the mate, was standing almost +directly under the mainmast at about 4.30 this afternoon, when +Railton, who was aloft, let slip a block, which descended on the +mate's head, striking it with fearful force and killing him +instantly. He was an honest, kindly man, to judge from the little I +have seen of him, and, as Captain Holding assures me, an excellent +navigator. Poor Railton was dreadfully upset by the effects of his +clumsiness; although I dislike the man, I have not the heart to blame +him when I see the contrition upon his face. + +"July 25th, midnight.--We buried Wilkins to-day. Captain Holding +read the burial service, and was much affected, for Wilkins was a +great friend of his; we then lowered the body into the sea. I spent +the evening with the Concanens, the captain being on deck and too +depressed to receive consolation. Nor was it much better with us in +the cabin. Although we tried to talk we were all depressed and +melancholy, and I retired earlier than usual to write my Journal. + +"July 26th to August 4th.--There has been nothing to record. +The wind has been fair as yet throughout, though it dropped yesterday +(Aug. 3rd), and we lay for some hours in a dead calm. We have +recovered our spirits altogether by this time. + +"August 5th.--One of our hands, Griffiths, fell overboard to-day and +was drowned. He and Colliver were out upon the fore-yard when +Griffiths slipped, and missing the deck, fell clear into the sea. +The captain was below at the time, but rushed upon deck on hearing +Colliver's alarm of 'Man overboard!' It was too late, however. +The vessel was making eight knots an hour at the time, and although +it was immediately put about, there was not the slightest hope of +finding the poor fellow. Indeed, we never saw him again." + +[At this point the Journal becomes strangely meagre, consisting +almost entirely of disconnected jottings about the weather, while +here and there occurs merely a date with the latitude and longitude +entered opposite. Only two entries seem of any importance: one of +August 20th, noting that they had doubled the Cape, and a second +written two days later and running as follows:--] + +"August 22nd.--Dr. Concanen came into my cabin early this morning and +told me that his wife had just given birth to a son. He seemed +prodigiously elated; and I congratulated him heartily, as this is the +first child born to them. He stayed but a moment or so with me, and +then went back to attend to his wife. I spent most of the day on +deck with Captain Holding, who is unceasingly vigilant now. +Wind continues steadily S.E." + +[After this the record is again scanty, but among less important +entries we found the following:--] + +"August 29th.--Mrs. Concanen rapidly recovering The child is a fine +boy: so, at least, the doctor says, though I confess I should have +thought it rather small. However, it seems able to cry lustily. + +"Sept. 6th.--Sighted Ascension Island. + +"Sept. 8th, 9th.--Wind dropping off and heat positively stifling. +A curious circumstance occurred today (the 9th), which shows that I +did well to be careful of my Journal. I was sitting on deck with the +Concanens, beneath an awning which the doctor has rigged up to +protect us from the heat, when our supply of tobacco ran short. +As I was descending for more I met Colliver coming out of my cabin. +He was rather disconcerted at seeing me, but invented some trivial +excuse about fetching a thermometer which Captain Holding had lent +me. I am confident now that he was on the look-out for my papers, +the more so as I had myself restored the thermometer to the captain's +cabin two days ago. It is lucky that I confided my papers to the +Concanens. As for Railton, the hangdog look on that man's face has +increased with his travels. He seems quite unable to meet my eye, +and returns short, surly answers if questioned. I cannot think his +dejection is solely due to poor Wilkins' death, for I noticed +something very like it on the outward voyage." + +[Here follow a few jottings on weather and speed, which latter--with +the exception of five days during which the vessel lay becalmed-- +seems to have been very satisfactory. On the 17th they caught a +light breeze from N.E., and on the 19th passed Cape Verde. +Soon after this the Journal becomes connected again, and so +continues.] + +"Sept. 24th.--Just after daybreak, went on deck, and found Captain +Holding already there. This man seems positively to require no +sleep. Since Wilkins' death he has managed the navigation almost +entirely alone. He seemed unusually grave this morning, and told me +that four of the hands had been taken ill during the night with +violent attacks of vomiting, and were lying below in great danger. +He had not seen the doctor yet, but suspected that something was +wrong with the food. At this point the doctor joined us and took the +captain aside. They conversed earnestly for about three minutes, and +presently I heard the captain exclaiming in a louder tone, 'Well, +doctor, of course you know best, but I can't believe it for all +that.' Shortly after the doctor went below again to look after his +patients. He was very silent when we met again at dinner, and I have +not seen him since. + +"Sept. 25th.--One of the hands, Walters, died during the night in +great agony. We sighted the Peak of Teneriffe early in the +afternoon, and I remained on deck with Mrs. Concanen, watching it. +The doctor is below, analysing the food. I believe he is completely +puzzled by this curious epidemic. + +"Sept. 26th.--Wind N.E., but somewhat lighter. Three more men seized +last night with precisely the same symptoms. With three deaths and +five men ill, we are now left with but nine hands (not counting the +captain) to work the ship. Walters was buried to-day. I learned +from Mrs. Concanen that her husband has made a _post mortem_ +examination of the body. I do not know what his conclusions are. + +"I open my Journal again to record another disquieting accident. +It is odd, but I have missed one of the pieces of my father's clasp. +I am positive it was in my pocket last night. I now have an +indistinct recollection of hearing something fall whilst I was +dressing this morning, but although I have searched both cabin and +state-room thoroughly, I can find nothing. However, even if it has +fallen into Colliver's hands, which is unlikely, he can make nothing +of it, and luckily I know the words written upon it by heart. +Still the loss has vexed me not a little. I will have another search +before turning in to-night. + +"Sept. 27th.--Wind has shifted to N.W. The doctor was summoned +during the night to visit one of the men taken ill two nights before. +The poor fellow died before daybreak, and I hear that another is not +expected to live until night. The doctor has only been on deck for a +few minutes to-day, and these he occupied in talk with the captain, +who seems to have caught the prevailing depression, for he has been +going about in a state of nervous disquietude all the afternoon. +I expect that want of sleep is telling upon him at last. The clasp +is still missing. + +"Sept. 28th.--A rough day, and all hands busily engaged. Wind mostly +S.W., but shifted to due W. before nightfall. Three of the invalids +are better, but the other is still lying in a very critical state. + +"Sept. 29th, 30th, Oct. 1st, 2nd.--Weather squally, so that we may +expect heavy seas in the Bay of Biscay. All the invalids are by this +time in a fair way of recovery, and one of them will be strong enough +to return to work in a couple of days. Doctor Concanen is still +strangely silent, however, and the captain's cheerfulness seems quite +to have left him. Oh, that this gloomy voyage were over! + +"Oct. 3rd.--Weather clearer. Light breeze from S.S.W. + +"Oct. 5th.--Let me roughly put down in few words what has happened, +not that I see at present any chance of leaving this accursed ship +alive, but in the hope that Providence may thus be aided--as far as +human aid may go--in bringing these villains to justice, if this +Journal should by any means survive me. + +"Last night, shortly before ten, I went at Doctor Concanen's +invitation to chat in his cabin. The doctor himself was busily +occupied with some medical works, to which, as his wife assured me, +he had been giving his whole attention of late. But Mrs. Concanen +and I sat talking together of home until close upon midnight, when +the baby, who was lying asleep at her side, awoke and began to cry. +Upon this she broke off her conversation and began to sing the little +fellow to sleep. 'Home, Sweet Home' was the song, and at the end of +the first verse--so sweetly touching, however hackneyed, to all +situated as we--the doctor left his books, came over, and was +standing behind her, running his hands, after a trick of his, +affectionately through her hair, when the native nurse, who slept in +the next cabin and had heard the baby crying, came in and offered to +take him. Mrs. Concanen, however, assured her that it was not +necessary, and the girl was just going out of the door when suddenly +we heard a scream and then the captain's voice calling, 'Trenoweth! +Doctor! Help, help!' + +"The doctor immediately rushed past the maid and up the companion. +I was just following at his heels when I heard two shots fired in +rapid succession, and then a heavy crash. Immediately the girl fell +with a shriek, and the doctor came staggering heavily back on top of +her. Quick as thought, I pulled them inside, locked the cabin door, +and began to examine their wounds. The girl was quite dead, being +shot through the breast, while Concanen was bleeding terribly from a +wound just below the shoulder: the bullet must have grazed his upper +arm, tearing open the flesh and cutting an artery, passed on and +struck the nurse, who was just behind. Mrs. Concanen was kneeling +beside him and vainly endeavouring to staunch the flow of blood. + +"Oddly enough, the attack, from whatever quarter it came, was not +followed up; but I heard two more shots fired on deck, and then a +loud crashing and stamping in the fore part of the vessel, and judged +that the mutineers were battening and barricading the forecastle. +I unlocked the door and was going out to explore the situation, when +the doctor spoke in a weak voice-- + +"'Quick, Trenoweth! never mind me. I've got the main artery torn to +pieces and can't last many more minutes--but quick for the captain's +cabin and get the guns. They'll be down presently, as soon as +they've finished up there.' + +"Opening the door and telling Mrs. Concanen--who although white as a +sheet never lost her presence of mind for a moment--to lock it after +me, I stole along the passage, gained the captain's cabin, found two +guns, a small keg of powder (to get at which I had to smash in a +locker with the butt-end of one of the guns), and some large shot, +brought I suppose for shooting gulls. + +"I found also a large packet of revolver cartridges, but no revolver; +and it suddenly struck me that the shots already fired must have been +from the captain's revolver, taken probably from his dead body. +Yes, as I remembered the sound of the shots I was sure of it. +The mutineers had probably no other ammunition, and so far I was +their master. + +"Fearful that by smashing the locker I had made noise enough to be +heard above the turmoil on deck, I returned swiftly and had just +reached the door of Concanen's cabin, when I heard a shout above, and +a man whom I recognised by the voice as Johnston, the carpenter, came +rushing down the steps crying, 'Hide me, doctor, hide me!' As Mrs. +Concanen opened the door in answer to my call, another shot was +fired, the man suddenly threw up his hands and we tumbled into the +cabin together. I turned as soon as I had locked and barricaded the +door, and saw him lying on his face--quite dead. He had been shot in +the back, just below the shoulder-blades. + +"The doctor also was at his last gasp, and the floor literally swam +with blood. As we bent over him to catch his words he whispered, +'It was Railton--that--I saw. Good-bye, Alice,' and fell back a +corpse. I carried the body to a corner of the cabin, took off my +jacket and covered up his face, and turned to Mrs. Concanen. She was +dry-eyed, but dreadfully white. + +"'Give me the guns,' she said quietly, 'and show me how to load +them.' + +"I was doing so when I heard footsteps coming slowly down the +companion. A moment after, two crashing blows were struck upon the +door-panel and Colliver's voice cried-- + +"'Trenoweth, you dog, are you hiding there? Give me up those papers +and come out.' + +"For answer I sent a charge of shot through the cabin door, and in an +instant heard him scrambling back with all speed up the stairs. + +"By this time it was about 3 a.m., and to add to the horrors of our +plight the lamp suddenly went out and left us in utter darkness. +I drew Mrs. Concanen aside--after strengthening the barricade about +the door--put her and the child in a corner where she would be safe +if they attempted to fire through the skylight, and then sat down +beside her to consider. + +"If, as I suspected, the mutineers had only the revolver which they +had taken from the captain, they had but one shot left, for I had +already counted five, and it was not likely that Holding--who always, +as I knew, carried some weapon with him--would have any loose +cartridges upon him at a time when no one suspected the least danger. + +"Next, as to numbers. Excluding Captain Holding--now dead--and +including the cook I reckoned that there were fourteen hands on +board. Of these, five were sick and probably at this moment +barricaded in the forecastle. One, the carpenter, was lying here +dead, and from the shriek which preceded the captain's cry, another +had already been accounted for by the mutineers. + +"This reduced the number to eight. The next question was, how many +were the mutineers? I had guessed at once that Colliver and Railton +had a hand in the business, for (in addition to my previous distrust +of the men) it was just upon midnight when we heard the first cry, +that is to say, the time when the watch was changed, and I knew that +these two belonged to the captain's watch. But could they be alone? + +"It seemed impossible, and yet I knew no others among the crew to +distrust, and certainly Davis, who was acting as mate at present, +was, although an indifferent navigator, as true as steel. Moreover, +the fact that the mutineers' success in shooting the doctor had not +been followed up, made my guess seem more likely. Certainly Colliver +and Railton were the only two of whom we could be sure as yet. +Nevertheless the supposition was amazing. + +"I had arrived at this point in my calculations when a yell which I +recognised, told me that they had caught Cox the helmsman and were +murdering him. After this came dead silence, which lasted all +through the night. + +"I must hasten to conclude this, for we have no light in the cabin, +and I am writing now by the faint evening rays that struggle in +through the sky-light. As soon as morning broke I determined to +reconnoitre. Cautiously removing the barricade, I opened the cabin +door and stole up the companion ladder. Arrived at the top I peered +cautiously over and saw the mutineers sitting by the forward hatch, +drinking. They were altogether four in number--Colliver, Railton, a +seaman called Rogerson, who had lately been punished by Captain +Holding for sleeping when on watch, and the cook, a Chinaman. +Rogerson was not with the rest, but had hold of the wheel and was +steering. The vessel at the time was sailing under crowded canvas +before a stiff sou'-westerly breeze. I kept low lest Rogerson should +see me, but he was obviously more than half drunk, and was chiefly +occupied in regarding his comrades with anything but a pleasant air. +Just as I was drawing a beautiful bead however, and had well covered +Colliver, he saw me and gave the alarm; and immediately the three +sprang to their feet and made for me, the Chinaman first. Altering +my aim I waited until he came close and then fired. I must have hit +him, I think in the ankle, for he staggered and fell with a loud cry +about ten paces from me. Seeing this, I made all speed again down +the ladder, turning at the cabin door for a hasty shot with the +second barrel, which, I think, missed. The other two pursued me +until I gained the cabin, and then went back to their comrade. +The rest of the day has been quite quiet. Luckily we have a large +tin of biscuits in the cabin, so as far as food goes we can hold out +for some time. Mrs. Concanen and I are going to take turns at +watching to-night. + +"Oct. 6th, 4 p.m.--At about 1.30 a.m. I was sleeping when Mrs. +Concanen woke me on hearing a noise by the skylight. The mutineers, +finding this to be the only point from which they could attack us +with any safety, had hit upon the plan of lashing knives to the end +of long sticks and were attempting to stab us with these clumsy +weapons. It was so dark that I could hardly see to aim, but a couple +of shots fired in rapid succession drove them quickly away. The rest +of the night was passed quietly enough, except for the cries of the +infant, which are very pitiable. The day, too, has been without +event, except that I have heard occasional sounds in the +neighbourhood of the forecastle, which I think must come from the +sick men imprisoned there, and attempting to cut their way out. + +"Oct. 7th.--We are still let alone. Doubtless the mutineers think to +starve us out or to lull us into a false security and catch us +unawares. As for starvation, the box of biscuits will last us both +for a week or more; and they stand little chance of taking us by +surprise, for one of us is always on the watch whilst the other +sleeps. They spent last night in drinking. Railton's voice was very +loud at times, and I could hear Colliver singing his infernal song-- + + "'Sing hey! for the dead man's lips, my lads.' + +"That man must be a fiend incarnate. I have but little time to write, +and between every word have to look about for signs of the mutineers. +I wonder whither they are steering us. + +"Oct. 8th.--A rough day evidently, by the way in which the vessel is +pitching, but I expect the crew are for the most part drunk. We must +find some way of getting rid of the dead bodies soon. I hardly like +to speak to Mrs. Concanen about it. Words cannot express the +admiration I feel for the pluck of this delicate woman. She asked me +to-day to show her how to use a gun, and I believe will fight to the +end. Her child is ailing fast, poor little man! And yet he is +happier than we, being unconscious of all these horrors. + +"Oct. 9th, 3.30 p.m.--Sick of this inaction I made another expedition +up the companion to-day. Rogerson was steering, and Railton standing +by the wheel talking to him. He had a bottle in his hand and seemed +very excited. I could not see Colliver at first, but on glancing up +at the rigging saw a most curious sight. There was a man on the +main-top, the boatswain, Kelly, apparently asleep. Below him +Colliver was climbing up, knife in mouth, and was already within a +couple of yards of him. I fired and missed, but alarmed Kelly, who +jumped up and seized a block which he had cut off to defend himself +with. At the same moment Railton and Rogerson made for me. As I +retreated down the ladder I stumbled, the gun went off and I think +hit Rogerson, who was first. We rolled down the stairs together, he +on top and hacking at me furiously with a knife. At this moment I +heard the report of a gun, and my assailant's grasp suddenly relaxed. +He fell back, tripping up Railton who was following unsteadily, and +so giving me time to gain the cabin door, where Mrs. Concanen was +standing, a smoking gun in her hand. Before we could shut the door, +however, Colliver, who by this time had gained the head of the +stairs, fired, and she dropped backwards inside the cabin. +Locking the door, I found her lying with a wound just below the +heart. She had just time to point to her child before she died. +Was ever so ghastly a tragedy? + +"Oct. 10th.--Awake all night, trying to soothe the cries of the +child, and at the same time keeping a good look-out for the +mutineers. The sea is terribly rough, and the poor corpses are being +pitched from side to side of the cabin. At midday I heard a cry on +deck, and judged that Kelly had dropped from the rigging in pure +exhaustion. The noise in the forecastle is awful. I think some of +the men there must be dead. + +"Oct. 11th, 5 p.m.--The child is dying. There is a fearful storm +raging, and with this crew the vessel has no chance if we are +anywhere near land. God help--" + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +TELLS OF THE WRITING UPON THE GOLDEN CLASP; AND HOW I TOOK DOWN THE +GREAT KEY. + +So ended my father's Journal--in a silence full of tragedy, a silence +filled in with the echo of that awful cry borne landwards on the +wings of the storm; and now, in the presence of this mute witness, +shaping itself into the single word "Murder." Of the effect of the +reading upon us, I need not speak at any length. For the most part +it had passed without comment; but the occasional choking of Uncle +Loveday's voice, my own quickening breath as the narrative continued, +and the tears that poured down the cheeks of both of us as we heard +the simple loving messages for Margery--messages so vainly tender, so +pitifully fond--were evidence enough of our emotion. + +I say that we both wept, and it is true. But though, do what I +could, my young heart would swell and ache until the tears came at +times, yet for the most part I sat with cold and gathering hate. +It was mournful enough when I consider it. That the hand which +penned these anxious lines should be cold and stiff, the ear for +which they were so lovingly intended for ever deaf: that all the warm +hopes should end beside that bed where husband and wife lay dead-- +surely this was tragic enough. But I did not think of this at the +time--or but dimly if at all. Hate, impotent hate, was consuming my +young heart as the story drew to its end; hate and no other feeling +possessed me as Uncle Loveday broke abruptly off, turned the page in +search of more, found none, and was silent. + +Once he had stopped for a moment to call for a candle. +Mrs. Busvargus brought it, trimmed the wick, and again retired. +This was our only interruption. Joe Roscorla had not returned from +Polkimbra; so we were left alone to the gathering shadows and the +horror of the tale. + +When my uncle finished there was a long pause. Finally he reached +out his hand for his pipe, filled it, and looked up. His kindly face +was furrowed with the marks of weeping, and big tears were yet +standing in his eyes. + +"Murdered," he said, "murdered, if ever man was murdered." + +"Yes," I echoed, "murdered." + +"But we'll have the villain," he exclaimed, bringing his fist down on +the table with sudden energy. "We'll have him for all his cunning, +eh, boy?" + +"Not yet," I answered; "he is far away by this time. But we'll have +him: oh, yes, we'll have him." + +Uncle Loveday looked at me oddly for a moment, and then repeated-- + +"Yes, yes, we'll have him safe enough. Joe Roscorla must have given +the alarm before he had time to go far. And to think," he added, +throwing up his hand, "that I talked to the villain only yesterday +morning as though he were some unfortunate victim of the sea!" + +I am sure that my uncle was regretting the vast deal of very fine +language he had wasted: and, indeed, he had seldom more nobly risen +to an occasion. + +"Pearls, pearls before swine! Swine did I say? Snakes, if it's not +an insult to a snake to give its name to such as Colliver. What did +you say, Jasper?" + +"We'll have him." + +"Jasper, my boy," said he, scanning me for a second time oddly, +"maybe you'll be better in bed. Try to sleep again, my poor lad-- +what do you think?" + +"I think," I answered, "that we have not yet looked at the clasp." + +"My dear boy, you're right: you're right again. Let us look at it." + +The piece of metal resembled, as I have said, the half of a +waist-buckle, having a socket but no corresponding hook. In shape it +was slightly oblong, being about 2 inches by one and a half inches. +It glittered brightly in the candle's ray as Uncle Loveday polished +it with his handkerchief, readjusted his spectacles, and bent over +it. + +At the end of a minute he looked up, and said-- + +"I cannot make head or tail of it. It seems plain enough to read, +but makes nonsense. Come over here and see for yourself." + +I bent over his shoulder, and this is what I saw-- + +The edge of the clasp was engraved with a border of flowers and +beasts, all exquisitely small. Within this was cut, by a much +rougher hand, an inscription which was plain enough to read, though +making no sense whatever. The writing was arranged in five lines of +three words apiece, and ran thus:-- + + MOON END SOUTH. + N.N.W. 22 FEET. + NORTH SIDE 4. + DEEP AT POINT. + WATER 1.5 HOURS. + +I read the words a full dozen times, and then, failing of any +interpretation, turned to Uncle Loveday-- + +"Jasper," said he, "to my mind those words make nonsense." + +"And to mine, uncle." + +"Now attend to me, Jasper. This is evidently but one half of the +clasp which your father discovered. That's as plain as daylight. +The question is, what has become of the other half, of the hook that +should fit into this eye? Now, what I want you to do is to try and +remember if this was all that the man Railton gave you." + +"This was all." + +"You are quite certain?" + +"Quite." + +"You did not leave the other piece behind in the cow-shed by any +chance?" + +"No, for I looked at the packet before I hid it, and there was only +one piece of metal." + +"Very well. One half of the golden clasp being lost, the next +question is, what has become of it?" + +I nodded. + +"To this," said Uncle Loveday, bending forward over the table, "two +answers are possible. Either it lies at the bottom of the sea with +the rest of the freight of the _Belle Fortune_, or it is in +Colliver's possession." + +"It may lie beneath Dead Man's Rock, in John Railton's pocket," I +suggested. + +"True, my boy, true; you put another case. But anyhow it makes no +difference. If it lies at the bottom of the sea, whether in +Railton's pocket or not, the secret is safe. If it is in Colliver's +possession the secret is safe, unless he has seen and learnt by heart +this half of the inscription. In any case, I am sorry to tell you-- +and this is what I was coming to--the secret is closed against us for +the time." + +"That is not certain," said I. + +"Excuse me, Jasper, it is quite certain. You admit yourself that +this writing is nonsense. Well and good. But besides this, I would +have you remember," pursued Uncle Loveday, turning once more to my +father's Journal, "that Ezekiel expressly says, 'The inscription ran +right across the clasp.' It could be read easily enough and +contained accurate directions for searching in some spot, but where +that spot was it did not reveal--" + +"Quite so," I interrupted, "and that is just what we have to +discover." + +"How?" + +"Why, by means of the key, as the parchment and the Will plainly +show. We may still be beaten, but even so, we shall know whereabouts +to look, if we can only catch Colliver." + +"Bless the boy!" said Uncle Loveday, "he certainly has a head." + +"Uncle," continued I, rising to my feet, "the secret of the Great +Ruby is written upon my grandfather's key. That key was to be taken +down when he that undertook the task of discovering the secret should +have returned and crossed the threshold of Lantrig. Uncle, my father +has crossed the threshold of Lantrig--" + +"Feet foremost, feet foremost, my boy. Oh, poor Ezekiel!" + +"Feet foremost, yes," I continued--"dead and murdered, yes. But he +has come: come to find my mother dead, but still he has come. +Uncle, I am the only Trenoweth left to Lantrig; think of it, the only +one left--" + +"Poor Ezekiel! Poor Margery!" + +"Yes, uncle, and all I inherit is the knife that murdered my father, +and this key. I have the knife, and I will take down the key. +We are not beaten yet." + +I drew a chair under the great beam, and mounted it. When first my +grandfather returned he had hung the iron key upon its hook, giving +strict injunctions that no one should touch it. There ever since it +had hung, the centre of a host of spiders' webs. Even my poor +mother's brush, so diligent elsewhere, had never invaded this sacred +relic, and often during our lonely winter evenings had she told me +the story of it: how that Amos Trenoweth's dying curse was laid upon +the person that should touch it, and how the spiders' days were +numbered with every day that brought my father nearer home. + +There it hung now, scarcely to be seen for cobwebs. Its hour had +come at last. Even as I stretched out my hand a dozen horrid things +hurried tumultuously back into darkness. Even as I laid my hand on +it, a big ungainly spider, scared but half incredulous, started in +alarm, hesitated, and finally made off at full speed for shelter. + +This, then, was the key that should unlock the treasure--this, +that had from the first hung over us, the one uncleansed spot in +Lantrig: this was the talisman--this grimy thing lying in my hand. +The spiders had been jealous in their watch. + +Stepping down, I got a cloth and brushed away the cobwebs. The key +was covered thickly with rust, but even so I could see that something +was written upon it. For about a minute I stood polishing it, and +then carried it forward to the light. + +Yes, there was writing upon it, both on the handle and along the +shaft--writing that, as it shaped itself before my eyes, caused them +to stare in wrathful incredulity, caused my heart to sink at first in +dismay and then to swell in mad indignation, caused my blood to turn +to gall and my thoughts to very bitterness. For this was what I +read:-- + +On the handle were engraved in large capitals the initials A. T. +with the date MDCCCXII. Alone the shaft, from handle to wards, ran +on either side the following sentence in old English lettering:-- + +THY HOUSE IS SET UPON THE SANDS AND THY HOPES BY A DEAD MAN. + +This was all. This short sentence was the sum of all the vain quest +on which my father had met his end. "Thy house is set upon the +sands," and even now had crumbled away beneath Amos Trenoweth's curse +"Thy hopes by a dead man," and even now he on whom our hopes had +rested, lay upstairs a pitiful corpse. Was ever mockery more +fiendish? As the full cruelty of the words broke in upon me, once +again I seemed to hear the awful cry from the sea, but now among its +voices rang a fearful laugh as though Amos Trenoweth's soul were +making merry in hell over his grim jest--the slaughter of his son and +his son's wife. + +White with desperate passion, I turned and hurled the accursed key +across the room into the blazing hearth. + +END OF BOOK I. + + + + +BOOK II. + + + + +THE FINDING OF THE GREAT RUBY. + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + +TELLS HOW THOMAS LOVEDAY AND I WENT IN SEARCH OF FORTUNE. + +Seeing that these pages do not profess to be an autobiography, but +rather the plain chronicle of certain events connected with the Great +Ruby of Ceylon, I conceive myself entitled to the reader's pardon if +I do some violence to the art of the narrator, and here ask leave to +pass by, with but slight allusion, some fourteen years. This I do +because the influence of this mysterious jewel, although it has +indelibly coloured my life, has been sensibly exercised during two +periods alone--periods short in themselves, but nevertheless long +enough to determine between them every current of my destiny, and to +supply an interpretation for my every action. + +I am the more concerned with advertising the reader of this, as on +looking back upon what I have written with an eye as far as may be +impartial, I have not failed to note one obvious criticism that will +be passed upon me. "How," it will be asked, "could any boy barely +eight years of age conceive the thoughts and entertain the emotions +there attributed to Jasper Trenoweth?" + +The criticism is just as well as obvious. As a solitary man for ever +brooding on the past, I will not deny that I may have been led to +paint that past in colours other than its own. Indeed, it would be +little short of a miracle were this not so. A morbid soul--and I +will admit that mine is morbid--preying upon its recollections, and +nourished on that food alone, cannot hope to attain the sense of +proportion which is the proper gift of varied experience. I readily +grant, therefore, that the lights and shades on this picture may be +wrong, as judged by the ordinary eye, but I do claim them to be a +faithful reproduction of my own vision. As I look back I find them +absolutely truthful, nor can I give the lie to my own impressions in +the endeavour to write what shall seem true to the rest of the world. + +This must be, therefore, my excuse for asking the reader to pass by +fourteen years and take up the tale far from Lantrig. But before I +plunge again into my story, it is right that I should briefly touch +on the chief events that occurred during this interval in my life. + +They buried my father and mother in the same grave in Polkimbra +Churchyard. I remember now that crowds of fisher-folk lined the way +to their last resting-place, and a host, as it seemed to me, of +tear-stained faces watched the coffins laid in the earth. But all +else is a blurred picture to me, as, indeed, is the time for many a +long day after. + +Colliver was never found. Captain Merrydew raised the hue and cry, +but the sailor Georgio Rhodojani was never seen again from the moment +when his evil face leered in through the window of Lantrig. A reward +was offered, and more than once Polkimbra was excited with the news +of his arrest, but it all came to nothing. Failing his capture, +Uncle Loveday was wisely silent on the subject of my father's Journal +and the secret of the Great Ruby. He had not been idle, however. +After long consultation with Aunt Elizabeth he posted off to Plymouth +to gain news of Lucy Railton and her daughter, but without success. +The "Welcome Home" still stood upon the Barbican, but the house was +in possession of new tenants, and neither they nor their landlord +could tell anything of the Railtons except that they had left +suddenly about two months before (that being the date of the wreck of +the _Belle Fortune_) after paying their rent to the end of the +Christmas quarter. The landlord could give no reasons for their +departure--for the house had a fair trade--but supposed that the +husband must have returned from sea and taken them away. +Uncle Loveday, of course, knew better, but on this point held his +peace. The one result of all his inquiries was the certainty that +the Railtons had vanished utterly. + +So Lantrig, for the preservation of which my father had given his +life, was sold to strangers, and I went to live with Aunt and Uncle +Loveday at Lizard Town. The proceeds of the sale (and they were +small indeed) Uncle Loveday put carefully by until such time as I +should be cast upon the world to seek my fortune. For twelve +uneventful years my aunt fed me, and uncle taught me--being no mean +scholar, especially in Latin, which tongue he took great pains to +make me perfect in. Thomas Loveday was my only companion, and soon +became my dear friend. Poor Tom! I can see his handsome face before +me now as it was in those old days--the dreamy eyes, the rare smile +with its faint suggestion of mockery, the fair curls in which a +breeze seemed for ever blowing, the pursed lips that had a habit of +saying such wonderful things. In my dreams--those few dreams of mine +that are happy--we are always boys together, climbing the cliffs for +eggs, or risking our lives in Uncle Loveday's boat--always boys +together. Poor Tom! Poor Tom! + +So the unmarked time rolled on, until there came a memorable day in +July on which I must touch for a moment. It was evening. I was +returning with Tom to Lizard Town from Dead Man's Rock, where we had +been basking all the sunny afternoon, Tom reading, and I simply +staring vacantly into the heavens and wondering when the time would +come that should set me free to unravel the mystery of this +ill-omened spot. Finally, after taking our fill of idleness, we +bathed as the sun was setting; and I remember wondering, as I dived +off the black ledge, whether beneath me there lay any relic of the +_Belle Fortune_, any fragment that might preserve some record of her +end. I had dived here often enough, but found nothing, nor could I +see anything to-day but the clean sand twinkling beneath its veil of +blue, though here, as I guessed, must still lie the bones of John +Railton. But I must hasten. We were returning over the Downs when +suddenly I spied a small figure running towards us, and making +frantic signals of distress. + +"That," said I, "from the shape of it, must be Joe Roscorla." + +And Joe Roscorla it was, only by no means the Joe Roscorla of +ordinary life, but a galvanised and gesticulating Joe, whereas the +Joe that we knew was of a lethargic bearing and slow habit of speech. +Still, it was he, and as he came up to us he stayed all questioning +by gasping out the word "Missus!" and then falling into a violent fit +of coughing. + +"Well, what is amiss?" asked Tom. + +"Took wi' a seizure, an' maister like a thing mazed," blurted Joe, +and then fell to panting and coughing worse than ever. + +"What! a seizure? paralysis do you mean?" I asked, while Tom turned +white. + +"Just a seizure, and I ha'n't got time for no longer name. But run +if 'ee want to see her alive." + +We ran without further speech, Joe keeping at our side for a minute, +but soon dropping behind and fading into distance. As we entered the +door Uncle Loveday met us, and I saw by his face that Aunt Elizabeth +was dead. + +She had been in the kitchen busied with our supper, when she suddenly +fell down and died in a few minutes. Heart disease was the cause, +but in our part people only die of three complaints--a seizure, an +inflammation, or a decline. The difference between these is purely +one of time, so that Joe Roscorla, learning the suddenness of the +attack, judged it forthwith a case of "seizure," and had so reported. + +My poor aunt was dead; and until now we had never known how we loved +her. Like so many of the Trenoweths she seemed hard and reserved to +many, but we who had lived with her had learnt the goodness of her +soul and the sincerity of her religion. The grief of her husband was +her noblest epitaph. + +He, poor man, was inconsolable. Without his wife he seemed as one +deprived of most of his limbs, and moved helplessly about, as though +life were now without purpose. Accustomed to be ruled by her at +every turn, he missed her in every action of the day. Very swiftly +he sank, of no assigned complaint, and within six months was laid +beside her. + +On his death-bed my uncle seemed strangely troubled about us. +Tom was to be a doctor. My destiny was not so certain; but already I +had renounced in my heart an inglorious life in Lizard Town. +I longed to go with Tom; in London, too, I thought I should be free +to follow the purpose of my life. But the question was, how should I +find the money? For I knew that the sum obtained by the sale of +Lantrig was miserably insufficient. So I sat with idle hands and +waited for destiny; nor did I realise my helplessness until I stood +in the room where Uncle Loveday lay dying. + +"Tom," said my uncle, "Tom, come closer." + +Tom bent over the bed. + +"I am leaving you two boys without friends in this world. You have +friends in Lizard Town, but Lizard Town is a small world, Tom. +I ought to have sent you to London before, but kept putting off the +parting. If one could only foresee--could only foresee." + +He raised himself slightly on his elbow, and continued with pain-- + +"You will go to Guy's, and Jasper, I hope, may go with you. +Be friends, boys; you will want friendship in this world. It will be +a struggle, for there is barely enough for both. But it is best to +share equally; _she_ would have wished that. She was always planning +that. I am doing it badly, I know, but she would have done it +better." + +The chill December sun came stealing in and illumined the sick man's +face with a light that was the shadow of heaven. The strange doctor +moved to the blind. My uncle's voice arrested him-- + +"No, no. Leave it up. You will have to pull it down very soon--only +a few moments now. Tom, come closer. You have been a good boy, Tom, +a good boy, though"--with a faint smile--"a little trying at times. +Ah, but she forgave you, Tom. She loved you dearly; she will tell me +so--when we meet." + +My uncle's gaze began to wander, as though anticipating that meeting; +but he roused himself and said-- + +"Kiss me, Tom, and send Jasper to me." + +Bitterly weeping, Tom made room, and I bent over the bed. + +"Ah, Jasper, it is you. Kiss me, boy. I have been telling Tom that +you must share alike. God has been stern with you, Jasper, to His +own good ends--His own good ends. Only be patient, it will come +right at the last. How dark it is getting; pull up the blind." + +"The blind is up, uncle." + +"Ah, yes, I forgot. I have often thought--do you remember that day-- +reading your father's paper--and the key?" + +"Yes, uncle." + +"I have often thought--about that key--which you flung into the +fire--and I picked out--your father Ezekiel's key--keep it. +Closer, Jasper, closer--" + +I bent down until my ear almost touched his lips. + +"I have--often--thought--we were wrong that night--and perhaps-- +meant--search--in . . ." + +For quite a minute I bent to catch the next word, then looking on his +face withdrew my arm and laid the grey head back upon the pillow. + +My uncle was dead. + + +So it happened that a few weeks after Tom and I, having found Uncle +Loveday's savings equally divided between us, started from Lizard +Town by coach to seek our fortunes in London. In London it is that I +must resume my tale. Of our early mishaps and misadventures I need +not speak, the result being discernible as the story progresses. +We did not find our fortunes, but we found some wisdom. Neither Tom +nor I ever confessed to disappointment at finding the pavements of +mere stone, but certainly two more absolute Whittingtons never trod +the streets of the great city. + +But before I resume I must say a few words of myself. No reader can +gather the true moral of this narrative who does not take into +account the effect which the cruel death of my parents had wrought on +me. From the day of the wreck hate had been my constant companion, +cherished and nursed in my heart until it held complete mastery over +all other passions. I lived, so I told myself over and over again, +but to avenge, to seek Simon Colliver high and low until I held him +at my mercy. Thousands of times I rehearsed the scene of our +meeting, and always I held the knife which stabbed my father. In my +waking thoughts, in my dreams, I was always pursuing, and Colliver +for ever fleeing before me. In every crowd I seemed to watch for his +face alone, at every street-corner to listen for his voice--that +face, that voice, which I should know among thousands. I had read +De Quincey's "Opium-Eater," and the picture of his unresting search +for his lost Ann somehow seized upon my imagination. Night after +night it was to Oxford Street that my devil drove me: night after +night I paced the "never-ending terraces," as did the opium-eater, on +my tireless quest--but with feelings how different! To me it was but +one long thirst of hatred, the long avenues of gaslight vistas of an +avenging hell, all the multitudinous sounds of life but the chorus of +that song to which my footsteps trod-- + + "Sing ho! but he waits for you." + +To London had Simon Colliver come, and somewhere, some day, he would +be mine. Until that day I sought a living face in a city of dead +men, and down that illimitable slope to Holborn, and back again, I +would tramp until the pavements were silent and deserted, then seek +my lodging and throw myself exhausted on the bed. + +In a dingy garret, looking out, when its grimy panes allowed, above +one of the many squalid streets that feed the main artery of the +Strand, my story begins anew. The furniture of the room relieves me +of the task of word-painting, being more effectively described by +catalogue, after the manner of the ships at Troy. It consisted of +two small beds, one rickety washstand, one wooden chair, and one tin +candlestick. At the present moment this last held a flickering dip, +for it was ten o'clock on the night of May the ninth, eighteen +hundred and sixty-three. On the chair sat Tom, turning excitedly the +leaves of a prodigiously imposing manuscript. I was sitting on the +edge of the bed nearest the candle, brooding on my hate as usual. + +Fortune had evidently dealt us some rough knocks. We were dressed, +as Tom put it, to suit the furniture, and did it to a nicety. +We were fed, according to the same authority, above our income; but +not often. I also quote Tom in saying that we were living rather +fast: we certainly saw no long prospect before us. In short, matters +had reached a crisis. + +Tom looked up from his reading. + +"Do you know, Jasper, I could wish that our wash-stand had not a +hole cut in it to receive the basin. It sounds hyper-critical. +But really it prejudices me in the eyes of the managers. There's a +suspicious bulge in the middle of the paper that is damning." + +I was absorbed in my own thoughts, and took no notice. Presently he +continued-- + +"Whittington is an overrated character, don't you think? After all +he owed his success to his name. It's a great thing for struggling +youth to have a three-syllabled name with a proparoxyton accent. +I've been listening to the bells to-night and they can make nothing +of Loveday, while as for Trenoweth, it's hopeless." + +As I still remained silent, Tom proceeded to announce-- + +"The House will now go into the Question of Supply." + +"The Exchequer," I reported, "contains exactly sixteen and eightpence +halfpenny." + +"Rent having been duly paid to-day and receipt given." + +"Receipt given," I echoed. + +"Really, when one comes to think of it, the situation is striking. +Here are you, Jasper Trenoweth, inheritor of the Great Ruby of +Ceylon, besides other treasure too paltry to mention, in danger of +starving in a garret. Here am I, Thomas Loveday, author of +'Francesca: a Tragedy,' and other masterpieces too numerous to +catalogue, with every prospect of sharing your fate. The situation +is striking, Jasper, you'll allow." + +"What did the manager say about it?" I asked. + +"Only just enough to show he had not looked at it. He was more +occupied with my appearance; and yet we agreed before I set out that +your trousers might have been made for me. They are the most +specious articles in our joint wardrobe: I thought to myself as +walked along to-day, Jasper, that after all it is not the coat that +makes the gentleman--it's the trousers. Now, in the matter of boots, +I surpass you. If yours decay at their present rate, your walks in +Oxford Street will become a luxury." + +I was silent again. + +"I do not recollect any case in fiction of a man being baulked of his +revenge for the want of a pair of boots. Cheer up, Jasper, boy," he +continued, rising and placing a hand on my shoulder. "We have been +fools, and have paid for it. You thought you could find your enemy +in London, and find the hiding-place too big. I thought I could +write, and find I cannot. As for legitimate work, sixteen and +eightpence halfpenny, even with economy, will hardly carry us on for +three years." + +I rose. "I will have one more walk in Oxford Street," I said, +"and then come home and see this miserable farce of starvation out." + +"Don't be a fool, Jasper. It is difficult, I know, to perish with +dignity on sixteen and eightpence halfpenny: the odd coppers spoil +the effect. Still we might bestow them on a less squeamish beggar +and redeem our pride." + +"Tom," I said, suddenly, "you lost a lot of money once over +_rouge-et-noir_." + +"Don't remind me of that, Jasper." + +"No, no; but where did you lose it?" + +"At a gambling hell off Leicester Square. But why--" + +"Should you know the place again? Could you find it?" + +"Easily." + +"Then let us go and try our luck with this miserable sum." + +"Don't be a fool, Jasper. What mad notion has taken you now?" + +"I have never gambled in my life," I answered, "and may as well have +a little excitement before the end comes. It's not much of a sum, as +you say; but the thought that we are playing for life or death may +make up for that. Let us start at once." + +"It is the maddest folly." + +"Very well, Tom, we will share this. There may be some little +difficulty over the halfpenny, but I don't mind throwing that in. +We will take half each, and you can hoard whilst I tempt fortune." + +"Jasper," said Tom, his eyes filling with tears, "you have said a +hard thing, but I know you don't mean it. If you are absolutely set +on this silly freak, we will stand or fall together." + +"Very well," said I, "we will stand or fall together, for I am +perfectly serious. The six and eightpence halfpenny, no more and no +less, I propose to spend in supper. After that we shall be better +prepared to face our chance. Do you agree?" + +"I agree," said Tom, sadly. + +We took our hats, extinguished the candle, and stumbled down the +stairs into the night. + +We ordered supper at an eating-house in the Strand, and in all my +life I cannot recall a merrier meal than this, which, for all we +knew, would be our last. The very thought lent a touch of bravado to +my humour, and presently Tom caught the infection. It was not a +sumptuous meal in itself, but princely to our ordinary fare; and the +unaccustomed taste of beer loosened our tongues, until our mirth +fairly astonished our fellow-diners. At length the waiter came with +the news that it was time for closing. Tom called for the bill, and +finding that it came to half-a-crown apiece, ordered two sixpenny +cigars, and tossed the odd eightpence halfpenny to the waiter, +announcing at the same time that this was our last meal on earth. +This done, he gravely handed me four half-crowns, and rose to leave. +I rose also, and once more we stepped into the night. + +Since the days of which I write, Leicester Square has greatly +changed. Then it was an intricate, and, by night, even a dangerous +quarter, chiefly given over to foreigners. As we trudged through +innumerable by-streets and squalid alleys, I wondered if Tom had +not forgotten his way. At length, however, we turned up a blind +alley, lit by one struggling gas-jet, and knocked at a low door. +It was opened almost immediately, and we groped our way up another +black passage to a second door. Here Tom gave three knocks very loud +and distinct. A voice cried, "Open," the door swung back before us, +and a blaze of light flashed in our faces. + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +TELLS OF THE LUCK OF THE GOLDEN CLASP. + +As the door swung back I became conscious first of a flood of light +that completely dazzled my eyes, next of the buzz of many voices that +confused my hearing. By slow degrees, however, the noise and glare +grew familiar and my senses were able to take in the strange scene. + +I stood in a large room furnished after the fashion of a +drawing-room, and resplendent with candles and gilding. The carpet +was rich, the walls were hung with pictures, which if garish in +colour were not tasteless in design, and between these glittered a +quantity of gilded mirrors that caught and reflected the rays of a +huge candelabrum depending from the centre of the ceiling. +Innumerable wax candles also shone in various parts of the room, +while here and there rich chairs and sofas were disposed; but these +were for the most part unoccupied, for the guests were clustered +together beneath the great candelabrum. + +They were about thirty in number, and from their appearance I judged +them to belong to very different classes of society. Some were +poorly and even miserably attired, others adorned with gorgeous, and +not a few with valuable, jewellery. Here stood one who from his +clothes seemed to be a poor artisan; there lounged a fop in evening +dress. There was also a sprinkling of women, and not a few wore +masks of some black stuff concealing the upper part of their faces. + +But the strangest feature of the company was that one and all were +entirely and even breathlessly watching the table in their midst. +Even the idlest scarcely raised his eyes to greet us as we entered, +and for a moment or two I paused at the door as one who had no +business with this strange assemblage. During these few moments I +was able to grasp the main points of what I saw. + +The guests were grouped around the table, some sitting and others +standing behind their chairs. The table itself was oblong in shape, +and at its head sat the most extraordinary woman it had ever been my +lot to behold. She was of immense age, and so wrinkled that her face +seemed a very network of deeply-printed lines. Her complexion, even +in the candle-light, was of a deep yellow, such as is rarely seen in +the most jaundiced faces. Despite her age, her features were bold +and bore traces of a rare beauty outlived; her eyes were of a deep +yet glittering black, and as they flashed from the table to the faces +of her guests, seemed never to wink or change for an instant their +look of intense alertness. + +But what was most noteworthy in this strange woman was neither her +eyes, her wrinkles, nor her curious colour, but the amazing quantity +of jewels that she wore. As she sat there beneath the glare of the +candelabrum she positively blazed with gems. With every motion of +her quick hands a hundred points of fire leapt out from the diamonds +on her fingers; with every turn of her wrinkled neck the light played +upon innumerable facets; and all the time those cold, lustrous eyes +scintillated as brightly as the stones. She was engaged in the game +as we entered, and turned her gaze upon us for an instant only, but +that momentary flash was so cold, so absolutely un-human, that I +doubted if I looked upon reality. The whole assembly seemed rather +like a room full of condemned spirits, with this woman sitting as +presiding judge. + +As we still stood by the door a hush fell on the company; men and +women seemed to catch their breath and bend more intently over the +table. There was a pause; then someone called the number +"Thirty-one," and the buzz of voices broke out again--a mixture of +exclamations and disappointed murmurs. Then, and not till then, did +the woman at the head of the table speak, and when she spoke her +words were addressed to us. + +"Come in, gentlemen, come in. You have not chosen your moment well, +for the Bank is winning; but you are none the less welcome." + +Her eyes as she turned them again upon us did not alter their +expression. They were--though I can scarcely hope that this +description will be understood--at once perfectly vigilant and +absolutely impassive. But even more amazing was the voice that +contradicted both these impressions, being most sweetly and +delicately modulated, with a musical ring that charmed the ear as the +notes of a well-sung song. The others, hearing us addressed, turned +an incurious gaze upon us for a moment, and then fastened their +attention anew upon the table. + +Thus welcomed, we too stepped forward to the centre of the room and +began to watch the game. I have never seen roulette played +elsewhere, so do not know if its accessories greatly vary, but this +is what I saw. + +The table, which I have described as oblong, was lined to the width +of about a foot around the edge with green baize, and on this were +piled heaps of gold and silver, some greater, some less. Sunk in the +centre was a well, in which a large needle revolved upon a pivot at a +turn of the hand. The whole looked like a large ship's compass, but +instead of north, south, east, and west, the table around the well, +and at a level with the compass, was marked out into alternate spaces +of red and black, bearing--one on each space--the figures from 1 to +36, and ending in 0, so that in all there were thirty-seven spaces, +the one bearing the cipher being opposite to the strange woman who +presided. As the game began again the players staked their money on +one or another of these spaces. I also gathered that they could +stake on either black or red, or again on one of the three dozens-- +1 to 12, 13 to 24, 25 to 36. When all the money was staked, the +woman bent forward, and with a sweep of her arm sent the needle +spinning round upon its mission. + +Thrice she did this, thrice the eager faces bent over the revolving +needle, and each time I gathered from the murmurs around me that the +bank had won heavily. At the end of the third round the hostess +looked up and said to Loveday-- + +"You have been here before, and, if I remember rightly, were +unfortunate. Come and sit near me when you have a chance, and +perhaps you may break this run of luck. Even I am tiring of it. +Or better still, get that dark handsome friend of yours to stake for +you. Have you ever played before?" she asked, turning to me. + +I shook my head. + +"All the better. Fortune always favours beginners, and if it does I +shall be well recompensed to have so handsome a youth beside me," and +with this she turned to the game again. + +At her right sat a grey-headed man with worn face and wolfish eyes, +who might have been expected to take this as a hint to make way. +But he never heard a word. All his sense was concentrated on the +board before him, and his only motion was to bend more closely and +eagerly over the play. Tom whispered in my ear-- + +"You have the money, Jasper; take her advice if you really mean to +play this farce out. Take the seat if you get a chance, and play +your own game." + +"You have been here before," I answered, "and know more about the +game." + +"Here before! Yes, to my cost. No, no, the idea of play is your own +and you shall carry it out. I am always unlucky, and as for +knowledge of the game, you can pick that up by watching a round or +two; it's perfectly simple." + +Again the bank had won. At the left hand of our hostess stood a +stolid man holding a small shovel with which he gathered in the +winnings. All around were faces as of souls in torture; even the +features of the winners (and these were few enough) scarcely +expressed a trace of satisfaction, but seemed rather cast into some +horrible trance in which they saw nothing but the piles of coin, the +spinning needle, and the flashing hands of the woman that turned it. +She all the while sat passionless and cold, looking on the scene as +might some glittering and bejewelled sphinx. + +As I gazed, as the needle whirled and stopped and once more whirled, +the mad excitement of the place came creeping upon me. The +glittering fingers of our hostess fascinated me as a serpent holds +its prey. The stifling heat, the glare, the confused murmurs mounted +like strong wine into my brain. The clink and gleam of the gold as +it passed to and fro, the harsh voice of the man with the shovel +calling at intervals, "Put on your money, gentlemen," the mechanical +progress of the play, confused and staggered my senses. I forgot +Tom, forgot the reason of our coming, forgot even where I was, so +absorbed was I, and craned forward over the hurrying wheel, as intent +as the veriest gambler present. + +I was aroused from my stupor by a muttered curse, as the grey-headed +man before me staggered up from his chair, and left the table with +desperate eyes and stupid gait. As he rose the jewelled fingers made +a slight motion, and I dropped into the vacant seat. + +The bank was still winning. At our hostess' left hand rose a +swelling pile of gold and silver that time after time absorbed all +the smaller heaps upon the black and red spaces. Meanwhile the woman +had scarcely spoken, but as the needle went round once more, +slackened and stopped--this time amid deep and desperate +execrations--she turned to me and said-- + +"Now is your time to break the bank if you wish. Play boldly; I +should like to lose to so proper a man." + +I looked back at Tom, who merely nodded, and put my first half-crown +upon the red space marked 19. My neighbour, without seeming to +notice the smallness of the sum, bent over the table and sent the +wheel spinning on its errand. I, too, bent forward to watch, and as +the wheel halted, saw the coin swept, with many more valuable, into +the great pile. + +"A bad beginning," said the sweet voice beside me. "Try again." + +I tried again, and a third time, and two more half-crowns went to +join their fellow. + +There was one more chance. White with desperation I drew out my last +half-crown, and laid it on the black. A flash, and my neighbour's +hand sent the needle whirling. Round and round it went, as though it +would never cease; round and round, then slackened, slackened, +hesitated and stopped--where? + +Where but over the red square opposite me? + +For a moment all things seemed to whirl and dance before me. +The candles shot out a million glancing rays, the table heaved, the +rings upon the woman's fingers glittered and sparkled, while opposite +me the devilish finger of Fortune pointed at the ruin of my hopes, +and as it pointed past them and at me, called me very fool. + +I clutched the table's green border and sank back in my seat. +As I did so I heard a low curse from Tom behind me. The overwhelming +truth broke in upon my senses, chasing the blood from my face, the +hope from my heart. Ruined! Ruined! The faces around me grew +blurred and misty, the room and all my surrounding seemed to fade +further and yet further away, leaving me face to face with the +consequences of my folly. Scarce knowing what I did, I turned to +look at Tom, and saw that his face was white and set. As I did so +the musical voice beside me murmured-- + +"The game is waiting: are you going to stake this time?" + +I stammered out a negative. + +"What? already tired? A faint heart should not go with such a face," +and again she swept the pointer round. + +"Is it," she whispered in my ear, "is it that you cannot?" + +"It is." + +"Ah, it is hard with half-a-sovereign to break the bank. But see, +have you nothing--nothing? For I feel as if my luck were going to +leave me." + +"Nothing," I answered, "nothing in the world." + +"Poor boy!" + +Her voice was tender and sympathetic, but in her eyes there glanced +not the faintest spark of mercy. I sat for a moment stunned and +helpless, and then she resumed. + +"Can I lend to you?" + +"No, for I have no chance of repaying. This was my all, and it has +gone. I have not one penny left in the world." + +"Poor boy!" + +"I thank you. I could not expect you to pity me, but--" + +"Ah, but you are wrong. I pity you: I pity you all. Fools, fools, I +call you all, and yet I make my living out of you. So you cannot +play," she added, as she set the game going once again. "What will +you do?" + +"Go, first of all." + +"And after?" + +I shrugged my shoulders. + +"No, do not go yet. Sit beside me for a while and watch: it is only +Fortune that makes me your enemy. I would willingly have lost to +you." + +She looked so curious, sitting there with her yellow face, her +wrinkles and her innumerable diamonds, that I could only sit and +stare. + +"I have seen many a desperate boy," continued this extraordinary +woman, "sitting beside me in that very chair. Ah, many a young life +have I murdered in this way. I am old, you see, very old; older even +than you could guess, but I triumph over youth none the less. +Sometimes I feel as if I fed on the young lives of others." + +She delivered these confidences without a change in her emotionless +face, and still I stared fascinated. + +"Ah, yes, they sit here for a moment, and then they go--who knows +where? You will be going presently, and then I shall lose you for +ever, without a thought of what happens to you. Money is my blood: +you see its colour in my face. Here they all come, and I suck their +blood and fling them aside. They win sometimes; but I can wait. +I wait and wait, and they come back here as surely as there is a +destiny. They come back, and I win in the end. I always win in the +end." + +She turned her attention to the game for a moment and then went on:-- + +"It is a rare drink, this yellow blood: and all the sweeter when it +comes from youth. I have had but a drop from you, but I like you +nevertheless. Oh, yes, I can pity, my heart is always full of pity +as I sit here drinking gold. Your friend is a charming boy, but I +like you better: and now you will go. These partings are very cruel, +are they not?" + +There was not a trace of mockery in her voice, and her eyes were the +same as ever. I merely looked up in reply, but she divined my +thoughts. + +"No, I am not mocking you. I should like you to win--once: I say it, +and am perfectly honest about it. You would be beaten in the end, +but it would please me while it lasted. Has your friend no money?" + +"No, this was all we had between us." + +"So he came back and got you to play with your money. That was +strange friendship." + +"You are wrong," I answered, "he was set against coming; but I +persuaded him--or rather, I insisted. It is all my own fault." + +"Well," she said, musingly, "I suppose you must, go; but it is a +pity. You are too handsome a boy to--to do what you will probably +do: but the game does not regard good looks, or it would fare badly +with me. Good-bye." + +Still there was no shadow of pity in those unfathomable eyes. +I looked into them for a moment, but their shining jet revealed +nothing below the surface--nothing but inexorable calm. + +"Good-bye," I said, and rose to go, for Tom's hand was already on my +shoulder. I dared not look in his face. All hope was gone now, all +wealth, all--Stay! I put my fingers in my waistcoat-pocket and drew +out the Golden Clasp. Worthless to me as any sign of the +hiding-place of the Great Ruby, it might yet be worth something as +metal. I had carried it ever since the day when Uncle Loveday and I +read my father's Journal. But what did it matter now? In a few +hours I should be beyond the hope of treasure. Might I not just as +well fling this accursed clasp after the rest? For aught I knew it +might yet win something back to me--that is, if anyone would accept +it as money. At least I would try. + +I sank back into my chair again. The woman turned her eyes upon me +carelessly, and said-- + +"What, back again so soon?" + +"Yes," said I, somewhat taken aback by her coldness, "if you will +give me another chance." + +"I give nothing, least of all chance," she replied. + +"Well, can you tell me if this is worth anything?" + +As I said this I held out the clasp, which flashed brightly as it +caught the rays of the large candelabrum overhead. She turned her +eyes upon it, and as she did so, for the first time I fancied I +caught a gleam of interest within them. It was but a gleam, however, +and died out instantly as she said-- + +"Let me look at it." + +I handed it to her. She bent over it for a moment, then turned to me +and asked-- + +"Is this all of it? I mean that it seems only one half of a clasp. +Have you not the other part?" + +I shook my head, and she continued-- + +"It is beautifully worked, and seems valuable. Do you wish me to buy +it?" + +"Not exactly that," I explained; "but if you think it worth anything +I should like to stake it against an equivalent." + +"Very well; it might be worth three pounds--perhaps more: but you can +stake it for that if you will. Shall it be all at once?" + +"Yes, let me have it over at once," I said, and placed it on the red +square marked 13. + +She nodded, and bending over the table, set the pointer on its round. + +This time I felt quite calm and cool. All the intoxication of play +had gone from me and left my nerves steady as iron. As the needle +swung round I scarcely looked at it, but fell to watching the faces +of my fellow-gamblers with idle interest. This stake would decide +between life and death for me, but I did not feel it. My passion had +fallen upon an anti-climax, and I was even yawning when the murmur of +many voices, and a small pile of gold and silver at my side, +announced that I had won. + +"So the luck was changed at last," said the woman. "Be brave whilst +it is with you." + +In answer I again placed the clasp upon the number 13. + +Once more I won, and this time heavily. Tom laid his hand upon my +shoulder and said, "Let us go," but I shook my head and went on. + +Time after time I won now, until the pile beside me became immense. +Again and again Tom whispered in my ear that we had won enough and +that luck would change shortly, but I held on. And now the others +surrounded me in a small crowd and began to stake on the numbers I +chose. Put the clasp where I would the needle stopped in front of +it. They brought a magnet to see if this curious piece of metal had +any power of attraction, but our hostess only laughed and assured +them at any rate there was no steel in the pointer, as (she added) +some of them ought to know by this time. When eight times I had put +the buckle down and eight times had found a fresh heap of coin at my +side, she turned to me and said-- + +"You play bravely, young man. What is your name?" + +"Jasper Trenoweth." + +Again I fancied I caught the gleam in her eyes; and this time it +even seemed as though her teeth shut tight as she heard the words. +But she simply laughed a tranquil laugh and said-- + +"A queer-sounding name, that Trenoweth. Is it a lucky one?" + +"Never, until now," said I. + +"Well, play on. It does my heart good, this fight between us. +But you are careful, I see; why don't you stake your pile as well +while this wonderful run lasts?" + +Again Tom's hand was laid upon my shoulder, and this time his voice +was urgent. But I was completely deaf. + +"As you please," said I, coldly, and laid the whole pile down upon +the black. + +It was madness. It was worse than madness. But I won again; and now +the heap of my winnings was enormous. I glanced at the strange +woman; she sat as impassive as ever. + +"Play," said she. + +Thrice more I won, and now the pile beside her had to be replenished. +Yet she moved not a muscle of her face, not a lash of her mysterious +eyes. + +At last, sick of success, I turned and said-- + +"I have had enough of this. Will it satisfy you if I stake it all +once more?" + +Again she laughed. "You are brave, Mr. Trenoweth, and indeed worth +the fighting. You may win to-night, but I shall win in the end. +I told you that I would readily lose to you, and so I will; but you +take me at my word with a vengeance. Still, I should like to possess +that clasp of yours, so let it be once more." + +I laid the whole of my winnings on the red. By this time all the +guests had gathered round to see the issue of this conflict. Not a +soul put any money on this turn of the wheel, so engrossed were they +in the duel. Every face was white with excitement, every lip +quivered. Only we, the combatants, sat unmoved--I and the strange +woman with the unfathomable eyes. + +"Red stands for many things," said she, as she lightly twirled the +needle round, "blood and rubies and lovers' lips. But black is the +livery of Death, and Death shall win them all in the end." + +As the pointer of fortune circled on its last errand, I could catch +the stifled breath of the crowd about me, so deep was the hush that +fell upon us all. I felt Tom's hand tighten its clutch upon my +shoulder. I heard, or fancied I heard, the heart of the man upon my +right thump against his ribs. I could feel my own pulse beating all +the while with steady and regular stroke. Somehow I knew that I +should win, and somehow it flashed upon me that she knew it too. +Even as the idea came darting across my brain, a multitude of pent-up +cries broke forth from thirty pairs of white lips. I scarcely looked +to see the cause, but as I turned to our hostess her eyes looked +straight into mine and her sweet voice rose above the din-- + +"Gentlemen, we have played enough to-night. The game is over." + +I had broken the bank. + + +I stood with Tom gathering up my winnings as the crowd slowly melted +from the room, and as I did so, cast a glance at the woman whom I had +thus defeated. She was leaning back in her chair, apparently +indifferent to her losses as to her gains. Only her eyes were +steadily fixed upon me as I shovelled the coin into my pockets. +As she caught my eye she pulled out a scrap of paper and a pencil, +scribbled a few words, tossed the note to the man with the shovel, +who instantly left the room, and said-- + +"Is it far from this place to your home?" + +"Not very." + +"That's well; but be careful. To win such a sum is only less +dangerous than to lose it. I shall see you again--you and your +talisman. By the way, may I look at it for a moment?" + +We were alone in the room, we three. She took the clasp, looked at +it intently for a full minute, and then returned it. Already the +dawn of another day was peering in through the chinks in the blinds, +giving a ghastly faintness to the expiring candles, throwing a grey +and sickening reality over the scene--the disordered chairs, the +floor strewn with scraps of paper, the signs and relics of the +debauchery of play. Ghastlier than all was the yellow face of the +woman in the pitiless light. But there she sat, seemingly untired, +in all the splendour of her flashing gems, as we left her--a very +goddess of the gaming-table. + +We had reached the door and were stepping into the darkness of the +outer passage, when Tom whispered-- + +"Be on your guard; that note meant mischief." + +I nodded, swung open the door, and stepped out into the darkness. +Even as I did so, I heard one quick step at my left side, saw a faint +gleam, and felt myself violently struck upon the chest. For a moment +I staggered back, and then heard Tom rush past me and deal one +crashing blow. + +"Run, run! Down the passage, quick!" + +In an instant we were tearing through the black darkness to the outer +door, but in that instant I could see, through the open door behind, +in the glare of all the candles, the figure of the yellow woman still +sitting motionless and calm. + +We gained the door, and plunged into the bright daylight. Up the +alley we tore, out into the street, across it and down another, then +through a perfect maze of by-lanes. Tom led and I followed behind, +panting and clutching my bursting pockets lest the coin should tumble +out. Still we tore on, although not a footstep followed us, nor had +we seen a soul since Tom struck my assailant down. Spent and +breathless at last we emerged upon the Strand, and here Tom pulled +up. + +"The streets are wonderfully quiet," said he. + +I thought for a moment and then said, "It is Sunday morning." + +Scarcely were the words out of my mouth when I heard something ring +upon the pavement beside me. I stooped, and picked up--the Golden +Clasp. + +"Well," said I, "this is strange." + +"Not at all," said Tom. "Look at your breast-pocket." + +I looked and saw a short slit across my breast just above the heart. +As I put my hand up, a sovereign, and then another, rolled clinking +on to the pavement. + +Tom picked them up, and handing them to me, remarked-- + +"Jasper, you may thank Heaven to-day, if you are in a mood for it. +You have had a narrow escape." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Why, that you would be a dead man now had you not carried that piece +of metal in your breast-pocket. Let me see it for a moment." + +We looked at it together, and there surely enough, almost in the +centre of the clasp, was a deep dent. We were silent for a minute or +so, and then Tom said-- + +"Let us get home. It would not do for us to be seen with this money +about us." + +We crossed the Strand, and turned off it to the door of our lodgings. +There I stopped. + +"Tom, I am not coming in. I shall take a long walk and a bathe to +get this fearful night out of my head. You can take the money +upstairs, and put it away somewhere in hiding. Stay, I will keep a +coin or two. Take the rest with you." + +Tom looked up at the gleam of sunshine that touched the chimney-pots +above, and decided. + +"Well, for my part, I am going to bed; and so will you if you are +wise." + +"No. I will be back this evening, so let the fatted calf be +prepared. I must get out of this for a while." + +"Where are you going?" + +"Oh, anywhere. I don't care. Up the river, perhaps." + +"You don't wish me to go with you?" + +"No, I had rather be alone. Tom, I have been a fool. I led you into +a hole whence nothing but a marvellous chance has delivered us, and I +owe you an apology. And--Tom, I also owe you my life." + +"Not to me, Jasper; to the Clasp." + +"To you," I insisted. "Tom, I have been a thoughtless fool, and-- +Tom, that was a splendid blow of yours." + +He laughed, and ran upstairs, while I turned and gloomily sauntered +down the deserted street. + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +TELLS AN OLD STORY IN THE TRADITIONAL MANNER. + +When Tom asked me where I was going, I had suggested an excursion up +the river; though, to tell the truth, this answer had come with the +question. Be that as it may, the afternoon of that same Sunday found +me on the left bank of the Thames between Streatley and Pangbourne; +found me, with my boat moored idly by, stretched on my back amid the +undergrowth, and easefully staring upward through a trellis-work of +branches into the heavens. I had been lying there a full hour +wondering vaguely of my last night's adventure, listening to the +spring-time chorus of the birds, lazily and listlessly watching a +bough that bent and waved its fan of foliage across my face, or the +twinkle of the tireless kingfisher flashing down-stream in loops of +light, when a blackbird lit on a branch hard by my left hand, and, +all unconscious of an audience, began to pour forth his rapture to +the day. + +Lying there I could spy his black body and yellow bill, and drink in +his song with dreamy content. So sweetly and delicately was he +fluting, that by degrees slumber crept gently and unperceived upon my +tired brain; and as the health-giving distillation of the melody +stole upon my parched senses, I fell into a deep sleep. + + +What was that? Music? Yes, but not the song of my friend the +black-bird, not the mellow note that had wooed me to slumber and +haunted my dreams. Music? Yes, but the voice was human, and the +song articulate. I started, and rose upon my elbow to listen. +The voice was human beyond a doubt--sweetly human: it was that of a +girl singing. But where? I looked around and saw nobody. Yet the +singer could not be far off, for the words, though softly and gently +sung, dwelt clearly and distinctly upon my ear. Still half asleep, I +sank back again and listened. + + "Flower of the May, + Saw ye one pass? + 'Love passed to-day + While the dawn was, + O, but the eyes of him shone as a glass.'" + +The low, delicate notes came tremulous through the thicket. +The blackbird was hushed, the trees overhead swayed soundlessly, and +when the voice fell and paused, so deep was the silence that +involuntarily I held my breath and waited. Presently it broke out +again-- + + "Bird of the thorn, + What his attire? + 'Lo! it was torn, + Marred with the mire, + And but the eyes of him sparkled with fire.'" + +Again the voice died away in soft cadences, and again all was +silence. I rose once more upon my elbow, and gazed into the green +depths of the wood; but saw only the blackbird perched upon a twig +and listening with head askew. + + "Flower of the May, + Bird of the--" + +The voice quivered, trailed off and stopped. I heard a rustling of +leaves to the right, and then the same voice broke out in prose, in +very agitated and piteous prose--"Oh, my boat! my boat! What shall I +do?" + +I jumped to my feet, caught a glimpse of something white, and of +two startled but appealing eyes, then tore down to the bank. +There, already twenty yards downstream, placidly floated the boat, +its painter trailing from the bows, and its whole behaviour pointing +to a leisurely but firm resolve to visit Pangbourne. + +My own boat was close at hand. But when did hot youth behave with +thought in a like case? I did as ninety-nine in a hundred would do. +I took off my coat, kicked off my shoes, and as the voice cried, +"Oh, please, do not trouble," plunged into the water. The refractory +boat, once on its way, was in no great hurry, and allowed itself to +be overtaken with great good-humour. I clambered in over the stern, +caught up the sculls which lay across the thwarts, and, dripping but +triumphant, brought my captive back to shore. + +"How can I thank you?" + +If my face was red as I looked up, it must be remembered that I had +to stoop to make the boat fast. If my eyes had a tendency to look +down again, it must be borne in mind that the water from my hair was +dripping into them. They gazed for a moment, however, and this was +what they saw:-- + +At first only another pair of eyes, of dark grey eyes twinkling with +a touch of merriment, though full at the same time of honest +gratitude. It was some time before I clearly understood that these +eyes belonged to a face, and that face the fairest that ever looked +on a summer day. First, as my gaze dropped before that vision of +radiant beauty, it saw only an exquisite figure draped in a dress of +some white and filmy stuff, and swathed around the shoulders with a +downy shawl, white also, across which fell one ravishing lock of +waving brown, shining golden in the kiss of the now drooping sun. +Then the gaze fell lower, lighted upon a little foot thrust slightly +forward for steadiness on the bank's verge, and there rested. + +So we stood facing one another--Hero and Leander, save that Leander +found the effects of his bath more discomposing than the poets give +any hint of. So we stood, she smiling and I dripping, while the +blackbird, robbed of the song's ending, took up his own tale anew, +and, being now on his mettle, tried a few variations. So, for all +power I had of speech, might we have stood until to-day had not the +voice repeated-- + +"How can I thank you?" + +I looked up. Yes, she was beautiful, past all criticism--not tall, +but in pose and figure queenly beyond words. Under the brim of her +straw hat the waving hair fell loosely, but not so loosely as to hide +the broad brow arching over lashes of deepest brown. Into the eyes I +dared not look again, but the lips were full and curling with humour, +the chin delicately poised over the most perfect of necks. In her +right hand she held a carelessly-plucked creeper that strayed down +the white of her dress and drooped over the high firm instep. And so +my gaze dropped to earth again. Pity me. I had scarcely spoken to +woman before, never to beauty. Tongue-tied and dripping I stood +there, yet was half inclined to run away. + +"And yet, why did you make yourself so wet? Have you no boat? +Is not that your boat lying there under the bank?" There was an +amused tremor in the speech. + +Somehow I felt absurdly guilty. She must have mistaken my glance, +for she went on:--"Is it that you wish--?" and began to search in the +pocket of her gown. + +"No, no," I cried, "not that." + +I had forgotten the raggedness of my clothes, now hideously +emphasised by my bath. Of course she took me for a beggar. Why not? +I looked like one. But as the thought flashed upon me it brought +unutterable humiliation. She must have divined something of the +agony in my eyes, for a tiny hand was suddenly laid on my arm and the +voice said-- + +"Please, forgive me; I was stupid, and am so sorry." + +Forgive her? I looked up for an instant and now her lids drooped in +their turn. There was a silence between us for a moment or two, +broken only by the blackbird, by this time entangled in a maze of +difficult variations. Presently she glanced up again, and the grey +eyes were now chastely merry. + +"But it was odd to swim when your boat was close at hand, was it +not?" + +I looked, faltered, met her honest glance, and we both broke out into +shy laughter. A mad desire to seize the little hand that for a +moment had rested on my arm caught hold of me. + +"Yes, it was odd," I answered slowly and with difficulty; "but it +seemed--the only thing to do at the time." + +She laughed a low laugh again. + +"Do you generally behave like that?" + +"I don't know." + +There was a pause and then I added-- + +"You see, you took me by surprise." + +"Where were you when I first called?" she asked. + +"Lying in the grass close by." + +"Then"--with a vivid blush--"you must have--" + +"Heard you singing? Yes." + +"Oh!" + +Again there was a pause, and this time the blackbird executed an +elaborate exercise with much delicacy and finish. The brown lashes +drooped, the lovely eyes were bent on the grass, and the little hand +swung the creeper nervously backward and forward. + +"Why did you not warn me that I had an audience?" + +"Because, in the first place, I was too late. When you began I +was--" + +"What?" she asked as I hesitated. + +"Asleep." + +"And I disturbed you. I am so sorry." + +"I am not." + +I was growing bolder as she became more embarrassed. I looked down +upon her now from my superior height, and my heart went out to +worship the grace of God's handiwork. With a touch of resentment she +drew herself up, held out her hand, and said somewhat proudly-- + +"I thank you, sir, for this service." + +I took the hand, but not the hint. It was an infinitesimal hand as +it lay in my big brown one, and yet it stung my frame as with some +delicious and electric shock. My heart beat wildly and my eyes +remained fixed upon hers. + +The colour on the fair face deepened a shade: the little chin was +raised a full inch, and the voice became perceptibly icy. + +"I must go, sir. I hope I have thanked you as far as I can, and--" + +"And what?" + +"Forgive me that I was about to offer you money." + +The hat's brim bent now, but under it I could see the honest eyes +full of pain. + +"Forgive you!" I cried. "Who am I to forgive you? You were right: +I am no better than a beggar." + +The red lips quivered and broke into a smile; a tiny dimple appeared, +vanished and reappeared; the hat's brim nodded again, and then the +eyes sparkled into laughter-- + +"A sturdy beggar, at any rate." + +It was the poorest little joke, but love is not exacting of wit. +Again we both laughed, but this time with more relief, and yet the +embarrassment that followed was greater. + +"Must you go?" I asked as I bent down to pull the boat in. + +"I really must," she answered shyly; and then as she pulled out a +tiny watch at her waist--"Oh! I am late--so late. I shall keep +mother waiting and make her lose the train. What shall I do? +Oh, pray, sir, be quick!" + +A mad hope coursed through me; I pointed to the boat and said-- + +"I have made it so wet. If you are late, better let me row you. +Where are you going?" + +"To Streatley; but I cannot--" + +"I also am going to Streatley. Please let me row you: I will not +speak if you wish it." + +Over her face, now so beautifully agitated, swept the rarest of +blushes. "Oh no, it is not that, but I can manage quite well"--her +manner gave the lie to her brave words--"and I shall not mind the +wet." + +"If I have not offended you, let me row." + +"No, no." + +"Then I have offended." + +"Please do not think so." + +"I shall if you will not let me row." + +Before my persistency she wavered and was conquered. "But my boat?" +she said. + +"I will tow it behind"--and in the glad success of my hopes I allowed +her no time for further parley, but ran off for my own boat, tied the +two together, and gently helped her to her seat. Was ever moment so +sweet? Did ever little palm rest in more eager hand than hers in +mine during that one heavenly moment? Did ever heart beat so +tumultuously as mine, as I pushed the boat from under the boughs and +began to row? + +Somehow, as we floated up the still river, a hush fell upon us. +She was idly trailing her hand in the stream and watching the ripple +as it broke and sparkled through her fingers. Her long lashes +drooped down upon her cheek and veiled her eyes, whilst I sat +drinking in her beauty and afraid by a word to break the spell. + +Presently she glanced up, met my burning eyes, and looked down +abashed. + +"Forgive me, I could not help it." + +She tried to meet the meaning of that sentence with a steady look, +but broke down, and as the warm blood surged across her face, bent +her eyes to the water again. For myself, I knew of nothing to say in +extenuation of my speech. My lips would have cried her mercy, but no +words came. I fell to rowing harder, and the silence that fell upon +us was unbroken. The sun sank and suddenly the earth grew cold and +grey, the piping of the birds died wholly out, the water-flags +shivered and whispered before the footsteps of night. Slowly, very +slowly the twilight hung its curtains around us. Swiftly, too +swiftly the quiet village drew near, but my thoughts were neither of +the village nor the night. As I sat and pulled silently upwards, +life was entirely changing for me. Old thoughts, old passions, old +aims and musings slipped from me and swept off my soul as the +darkening river swept down into further night. + +"Streatley! So soon! We are in time, then." + +Humbly my heart thanked her for those words, "So soon." I gave her +my hand to help her ashore, and, as I did so, said-- + +"You will forgive me?" + +"For getting wet in my service? What is there to forgive?" + +Oh, cruelly kind! The moon was up now and threw its full radiance on +her face as she turned to go. My eyes were speaking imploringly, but +she persisted in ignoring their appeal. + +"You often come here?" + +"Oh, no! Sunday is my holiday; I am not so idle always. But mother +loves to come here on Sundays. Ah, how I have neglected her to-day!" +There was a world of self-reproach in her speech, and again she would +have withdrawn her hand and gone. + +"One moment," said I, hoarsely. "Will you--can you--tell me your +name?" + +There was a demure smile on her face as the moon kissed it, and-- + +"They call me Claire," she said. + +"Claire," I murmured, half to myself. + +"And yours?" she asked. + +"Jasper--Jasper Trenoweth." + +"Then good-bye, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth. Goodbye, and once more I thank +you." + +She was gone; and standing stupid and alone I watched her graceful +figure fade into the shadow and take with it the light and joy of my +life. + + +"Jasper," said Tom, as I lounged into our wretched garret, "have you +ever known what it is to suffer from the responsibility of wealth? +I do not mean a few paltry sovereigns; but do you know what it is to +live with, say, three thousand four hundred and sixty-five pounds +thirteen and sixpence on your conscience?" + +"No," I said; "I cannot say that I have. But why that extraordinary +sum?" + +"Because that is the sum which has been hanging all day around me as +a mill-stone. Because that is the exact amount which at present +makes me fear to look my fellow-man in the face." + +I simply stared. + +"Jasper, you are singularly dense, or much success has turned your +brain. Say, Jasper, that success has not turned your brain." + +"Not that I know of," I replied. + +"Very well, then," said Tom, stepping to the bed and pulling back the +counterpane with much mystery. "Oblige me by counting this sum, +first the notes, then the gold, and finally the silver. Or, if that +is too much trouble, reflect that on this modest couch recline +bank-notes for three thousand one hundred and twenty pounds, gold +sovereigns to the number of three hundred and forty-two, whence by an +easy subtraction sum we obtain a remainder of silver, in value three +pounds thirteen and sixpence." + +"But, Tom, surely we never won all that?" + +"We did though, and may for the rest of our days settle down as +comparatively honest medical students. So that I propose we have +supper, and drink--for I have provided drink--to the Luck of the +Golden Clasp." + +Stunned with the events of the last twenty-four hours, I sat down to +table, but could scarcely touch my food. Tom's tongue went +ceaselessly, now apologising for the fare, now entertaining imaginary +guests, and always addressing me as a man of great wealth and +property. + +"Jasper," he remarked at length, "either you are ill, or you must +have been eating to excess all day." + +"Neither." + +"Do I gather that you wish to leave the table, and pursue your mortal +foe up and down Oxford Street?" + +I shook my head. + +"What! no revenge to-night? No thirst for blood?" + +"Tom," I replied, solemnly, "neither to-night nor any other night. +My revenge is dead." + +"Dear me! when did it take place? It must have been very sudden." + +"It died to-day." + +"Jasper," said Tom, laying his hand on my shoulder, "either wealth +has turned your brain, or most remarkably given you sanity." + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +TELLS HOW I SAW THE SHADOW OF THE ROCK; AND HOW I TOLD AND HEARD +NEWS. + +A week passed, and in the interval Tom and I made several +discoveries. In the first place, to our great relief, we discovered +that the bank-notes were received in Threadneedle Street without +question or demur. Secondly, we found our present lodgings narrow, +and therefore moved westward to St. James's. Further, it struck us +that our clothes would have to conform to the "demands of more +Occidental civilisation," as Tom put it, and also that unless we +intended to be medical students for ever it was necessary to become +medical men. Lastly, it began to dawn upon Tom that "Francesca: a +Tragedy" was a somewhat turgid performance, and on me that a holiday +on Sunday was demanded by six days of work. + +I do not know that we displayed any remarkable interest in the +_Materia Medica_, or that the authorities of Guy's looked upon us as +likely to do them any singular credit. But Tom, who had now a +writing-desk, made great alterations in "Francesca," while I consumed +vast quantities of tobacco in the endeavour to reproduce a certain +face in my note-book; and I am certain that the resolution to take a +holiday on Sunday was as strong at the end of the first week as +though I had wrought my faculties to the verge of brain fever. + +I did not see her on that Sunday, or the next, though twice my boat +explored the river between Goring and Pangbourne from early morning +until nightfall. But let me hasten over heart-aching and bitterness, +and come to the blessed Sunday when for a second time I saw my love. + +Again the day was radiant with summer. Above, the vaulted blue +arched to a capstone of noonday gold. Hardly a fleecy cloud troubled +the height of heaven, or blotted the stream's clear mirror; save here +and there where the warm air danced and quivered over the still +meadows, the season's colour lay equal upon earth. Before me the +river wound silently into the sunny solitude of space untroubled by +sight of human form. + +But what was that speck of white far down the bank--that brighter +spot upon the universal brightness, moving, advancing? My heart gave +one great leap; in a moment my boat's bows were high upon the +crumbling bank, and I was gazing down the tow-path. + +Yes, it was she! From a thousand thousand I could tell that +perfect form as it loitered--how slowly--up the river's verge. +Along heaven's boundary the day was lit with glory for me, and all +the glory but a golden frame for that white speck so carelessly +approaching. Still and mute I stood as it drew nearer--so still, so +mute, that a lazy pike thrust out its wolfish jaws just under my feet +and, seeing me, splashed under again in great discomposure; so +motionless that a blundering swallow all but darted against me, then +swept curving to the water, and vanished down the stream. + +She had been gathering May-blossom, and held a cluster in one hand. +As before, her gown was purest white, and, as before, a nodding hat +guarded her fair face jealously. + +Nearer and nearer she came, glanced carelessly at me who stood +bare-headed in the sun's glare, was passing, and glanced again, +hesitated for one agonising moment, and then, as our eyes met, shot +out a kindly flash of remembrance, followed by the sweetest of little +blushes. + +"So you are here again," she said, as she gave her hand, and her +voice made exquisite music in my ear. + +"Again?" I said, slowly releasing her fingers as a miser might part +with treasure. "Again? I have been here every Sunday since." + +"Dear me! is it so long ago? Only three weeks after all. +I remember, because--" + +The fleeting hope possessed me that it might be some recollection in +which I had place, but my illusion was swiftly shattered. + +"Because," the pitiless sentence continued, "mother was not well that +evening; in fact, she has been ill ever since. So it is only three +weeks." + +"Only three weeks!" I echoed. + +"Yes," she nodded. "I have not seen the river for all that time. +Is it changed?" + +"Sadly changed." + +"How?" + +"Perhaps I have changed." + +"Well, I hope so," she laughed, "after that wetting;" then, seeing an +indignant flash in my eyes, she added quickly, "which you got by so +kindly bringing back my boat." + +"You have not been rowing to-day?" + +"No; see, I have been gathering the last of the May-blossom. May is +all but dead." + +"And 'Flower of the May'?" + +"Please do not remind me of that foolish song. Had I known, I would +not have sung it for worlds." + +"I would not for worlds have missed it." + +Again she frowned and now turned to go. "And you, too, must make +these speeches!" + +The world of reproach in her tone was at once gall and honey to me. +Gall, because the "you too" conjured up a host of jealous imaginings; +honey, because it was revealed that of me she had hoped for better. +And now like a fool I had flung her good opinion away and she was +leaving me. + +I made a half-step forward. + +"I must go now," she said, and the little hand was held out in token +of farewell. + +"No! no! I have offended you." + +No answer. + +"I have offended you," I insisted, still holding her hand. + +"I forgive you. But, indeed, I must go." The hand made a faint +struggle to be free. + +"Why?" + +My voice came hard and unnatural. I still held the fingers, and as I +did so, felt the embarrassment of utter shyness pass over the bridge +of our two hands and settle chokingly upon my heart. + +"Why?" I repeated, more hoarsely yet. + +"Because--because I must not neglect mother again. She is waiting." + +"Then let me go with you." + +"Oh, no! Some day--if we meet--I will introduce you." + +"Why not now?" + +"Because she is not well." + +Even my lately-acquired knowledge of the _Materia Medico_, scarcely +warranted me in offering to cure her. But I did. + +She laughed shyly and said, "How, sir; are you a doctor?" + +"Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, gentleman, apothecary," I said +lightly, "neither one nor the other, but that curious compound of the +two last--a medical student." + +"Then I will not trust you," she answered, smiling. + +"Better trust me," I said; and something in my words again made her +look down. + +"You will trust me?" I pleaded, and the something in my words grew +plainer. + +Still no answer. + +"Oh, trust me!" + +The hand quivered in mine an instant, the eyes looked up and laughed +once more. "I will trust you," she said--"not to move from this spot +until I am out of sight." + +Then with a light "Good-bye" she was gone, and I was left to vaguely +comprehend my loss. + +Before long I had seen her a third time and yet once again. I had +learnt her name to be Luttrell--Claire Luttrell; how often did I not +say the words over to myself? I had also confided in Tom and +received his hearty condolence, Tom being in that stage of youth +which despises all of which it knows nothing--love especially, as a +thing contrary to nature's uniformity. So Tom was youthfully +cynical, and therefore by strange inference put on the airs of +superior age; was also sceptical of my description, especially a +certain comparison of her eyes to stars, though a very similar trope +occurred somewhere in the tragedy. Indeed therein Francesca's eyes +were likened to the Pleiads, being apparently (as I pointed out with +some asperity) seven in number, and one of them lost. + +I had also seen Mrs. Luttrell, a worn and timid woman, with weak blue +eyes and all the manner of the professional invalid. I say this now, +but in those days she was in my eyes a celestial being mysteriously +clothed in earth's infirmities--as how should the mother of Claire be +anything else? Somehow I won the favour of this faded creature-- +chiefly, I suspect, because she liked so well to be left alone. +All day long she would sit contentedly watching the river and waiting +for Claire, yet only anxious that Claire should be happy. All her +heart centred on her child, and often, in spite of our friendliness, +I caught her glancing from Claire to me with a jealous look, as +though the mother guessed what the child suspected but dimly, if at +all. + +So the summer slipped away, all too fleetly--to me, as I look back +after these weary years, in a day. But nevertheless much happened: +not much that need be written down in bald and pitiless prose, but +much to me who counted and treasured every moment that held my +darling near me. So the Loves through that golden season wound us +round with their invisible chains and hovered smiling and waiting. +So we drifted week after week upon the river, each time nearer and +nearer to the harbour of confession. The end was surely coming, and +at last it came. + +It was a gorgeous August evening. A week before she had told me that +Saturday would be a holiday for her, and had, when pressed, admitted +a design of spending it upon the river. Need it be confessed that +Saturday saw me also in my boat, expectant? And when she came and +feigned pretty astonishment at meeting me, and scepticism as to my +doing any work throughout the week, need I say the explanation took +time and seemed to me best delivered in a boat? At any rate, so it +was; and somehow, the explanation took such a vast amount of time, +that the sun was already plunging down the western slope of heaven +when we stepped ashore almost on the very spot where first I had +heard her voice. + +As the first film of evening came creeping over earth, there fell a +hush between us. A blackbird--the same, I verily believe--took the +opportunity to welcome us. His note was no longer full and unstudied +as in May. The summer was nearly over, and with it his voice was +failing; but he did his best, and something in the hospitality of his +song prompted me to break the silence. + +"This is the very spot on which we met for the first time--do you +remember?" + +"Of course I remember," was the simple answer. + +"You do?" I foolishly burned to hear the assurance again. + +"Of course--it was such a lovely day." + +"A blessed day," I answered, "the most blessed of my life." + +There was a long pause here, and even the blackbird could hardly fill +it up. + +"Do you regret it?" + +(Why does man on these occasions ask such a heap of questions?) + +"Why should I?" + +(Why does woman invariably answer his query with another?) + +"I hope there is no reason," I answered, "and yet--oh, can you not +see of what that day was the beginning? Can you not see whither +these last four months have carried me?" + +The sun struck slanting on the water and ran in tapering lustre to +our feet. The gilded ripple slipped and murmured below us; the +bronzed leaves overhead bent carefully to veil her answer. The bird +within the covert uttered an anxious note. + +"They have carried you, it seems," she answered, with eyes gently +lowered, "back to the same place." + +"They have carried me," I echoed, "from spring to summer. If they +have brought me back to this spot, it is because the place and I have +changed--Claire!" + +As I called her by her Christian name she gave one quick glance, and +then turned her eyes away again. I could see the soft rose creeping +over her white neck and cheek. Had I offended? Between hope and +desperation, I continued-- + +"Claire--I will call you Claire, for that was the name you told me +just four months ago--I am changed, oh, changed past all remembrance! +Are you not changed at all? Am I still nothing to you?" + +She put up her hand as if to ward off further speech, but spoke no +word herself. + +"Answer me, Claire; give me some answer if only a word. Am I still +no more than the beggar who rescued your boat that day?" + +"Of course, you are my friend--now. Please forget that I took you +for a beggar." + +The words came with effort. Within the bushes the blackbird still +chirped expectant, and the ripple below murmured to the bank, +"The old story--the old story." + +"But I am a beggar," I broke out. "Claire, I am always a beggar on +my knees before you. Oh, Claire!" + +Her face was yet more averted--the sun kissed her waving locks with +soft lips of gold, the breeze half stirred the delicate draperies +around her. The blackbird's note was broken and halting as my own +speech. + +"Claire, have you not guessed? will you never guess? Oh, have pity +on me!" + +I could see the soft bosom heaving now. The little hand was pulling +at the gown. Her whole sweet shape drooped away from me in vague +alarm--but still no answer came. + +"Courage! Courage!" chirped the bird, and the river murmured +responsive, "Courage!" + +"Claire!"--and now there was a ring of agony in the voice; the tones +came alien and scarcely recognised--"Claire, I have watched and +waited for this day, and now that it has come, for good or for evil, +answer me--I love you!" + +O time-honoured and most simple of propositions! "I love you!" Night +after night had I lain upon my bed rehearsing speeches, tender, +passionate and florid, and lo! to this had it all come--to these +three words, which, as my lips uttered them, made my heart leap in +awe of their crude and naked daring. + +And she? The words, as though they smote her, chased for an instant +the rich blood from her cheek. For a moment the bosom heaved wildly, +then the colour came slowly back, and ebbed again. A soft tremor +shook the bending form, the little hand clutched the gown, but she +made no answer. + +"Speak to me, Claire! I love you! With my life and soul I love you. +Can you not care for me?" I took the little hand. "Claire, my heart +is in your hands--do with it what you will, but speak to me. Can you +not--do you not--care for me?" + +The head drooped lower yet, the warm fingers quivered within mine, +then tightened, and-- + +What was that whisper, that less than whisper, for which I bent my +head? Had I heard aright? Or why was it that the figure drooped +closer, and the bird's note sprang up jubilant? + +"Claire!" + +A moment--one tremulous, heart-shaking moment--and then her form bent +to me, abandoned, conquered; her face looked up, then sank upon my +breast; but before it sank I read upon it a tenderness and a passion +infinite, and caught in her eyes the perfect light of love. + +As the glory of delight came flooding on my soul, the sun's disc +dropped, and the first cold shadow of night fell upon earth. +The blackbird uttered a broken "Amen," and was gone no man knew +whither. The golden ripple passed up the river, and vanished in a +leaden grey. One low shuddering sigh swept through the trees, then +all was dumb. I looked westward. Towards the horizon the blue of +day was fading downwards through indistinguishable zones of purple, +amethyst, and palest rose, the whole heaven arching in one perfect +rainbow of love. + +But while I looked and listened to the beating of that beloved heart +girdled with my arm, there grew a something on the western sky that +well-nigh turned my own heart to marble. At first, a lightest +shadow--a mere breath upon heaven's mirror, no more. Then as I +gazed, it deepened, gathering all shadows from around the pole, +heaping, massing, wreathing them around one spot in the troubled +west--a shape that grew and threatened and still grew, until I looked +on--what? + +Up from the calm sea of air rose one solitary island, black and +looming, rose and took shape and stood out--the very form and +semblance of Dead Man's Rock! Sable and real as death it towered +there against the pale evening, until its shadow, falling on my heart +itself and on the soft brown head that bent and nestled there, lay +round us clasped so, and with its frown cursed the morning of our +love. + +Something in my heart's beat, or in the stiffening of my arm, must +have startled my darling, for as I gazed I felt her stir, and, +looking down, caught her eyes turned wistfully upwards. My lips bent +to hers. + +"Mine, Claire! Mine for ever!" + +And there, beneath the shadow of the Rock, our lips drew closer, met, +and were locked in their first kiss. + +When I looked up again the shadow had vanished, and the west was grey +and clear. + + +So in the tranquil evening we rowed homewards, our hearts too full +for speech. The wan moon rose and trod the waters, but we had no +thoughts, no eyes for her. Our eyes were looking into each other's +depths, our thoughts no thoughts at all, but rather a dazzled and +wondering awe. + +Only as a light or two gleamed out, and Streatley twinkled in the +distance, Claire said-- + +"Can it be true? You know nothing of me." + +"I know you love me. What more should I know, or wish to know?" + +The red lips were pursed in a manner that spoke whole tomes of +wisdom. + +"You do not know that I work for my living all the week?" + +"When you are mine you shall work no more." + +"'But sit on a cushion and sew a gold seam'? Ah, no; I have to work. +It is strange," she said, musingly, "so strange." + +"What is strange, Claire?" + +"That you have never seen me except on my holidays--that we have +never met. What have you done since you have been in London?" + +I thought of my walks and tireless quest in Oxford Street with a kind +of shame. That old life was severed from the present by whole +worlds. + +"I have lived very quietly," I answered. "But is it so strange that +we have never met?" + +She laughed a low and musical laugh, and as the boat drew shoreward +and grounded, replied-- + +"Perhaps not. Come, let us go to mother--Jasper." + +O sweet sound from sweetest lips! We stepped ashore, and +hand-in-hand entered the room where her mother sat. + +As she looked up and saw us standing there together, she knew the +truth in a moment. Her blue eyes filled with sudden fear, her worn +hand went upwards to her heart. Until that instant she had not known +of my presence there that day, and in a flash divined its meaning. + +"I feared it," she answered at length, as I told my story and stood +waiting for an answer. "I feared it, and for long have been +expecting it. Claire, my love, are you sure? Oh, be quite sure +before you leave me." + +For answer, Claire only knelt and flung her white arms round her +mother's neck, and hid her face upon her mother's bosom. + +"You love him now, you think; but, oh, be careful. Search your heart +before you rob me of it. I have known love, too, Claire, or thought +I did; and indeed it can fade--and then, what anguish, what anguish!" + +"Mother, mother! I will never leave you." + +Mrs. Luttrell sighed. + +"Ah, child, it is your happiness I am thinking of." + +"I will never leave you, mother." + +"And you, sir," continued Mrs. Luttrell, "are you sure? I am giving +you what is dearer than life itself; and as you value her now, treat +her worthily hereafter. Swear this to me, if my gift is worth so +much in your eyes. Sir, do you know--" + +"Mother!" + +Claire drew her mother's head down towards her and whispered in her +ear. Mrs. Luttrell frowned, hesitated, and finally said-- + +"Well, it shall be as you wish--though I doubt if it be wise. +God bless you, Claire--and you, sir; but oh, be certain, be certain!" + +What incoherent speech I made in answer I know not, but my heart was +sore for this poor soul. Claire turned her eyes to me and rose, +smoothing her mother's grey locks. + +"We will not leave her, will we? Tell her that we will not." + +I echoed her words, and stepping to Mrs. Luttrell, took the frail, +white hand. + +"Sir," she said, "you who take her from me should be my bitterest +foe. Yet see, I take you for a son." + + +Still rapt with the glory of my great triumph, and drunk with the +passion of that farewell kiss, I walked into our lodgings and laid my +hand on Tom's shoulder. + +"Tom, I have news for you." + +Tom started up. "And so have I for you." + +"Great news." + +"Glorious news!" + +"Tom, listen: I am accepted." + +"Bless my soul! Jasper, so am I." + +"You?" + +"Yes." + +"When? Where?" + +"This afternoon. Jasper, our success has come at last: for you the +Loves, for me the Muses; for you the rose, for me the bay. Jasper, +dear boy, they have learnt her worth at last." + +"Her! Who?" + +"Francesca. Jasper, in three months I shall be famous; for next +November 'Francesca: a Tragedy' will be produced at the Coliseum." + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +TELLS HOW THE CURTAIN ROSE UPON "FRANCESCA: A TRAGEDY." + +Again my story may hurry, for on the enchanted weeks that followed it +would weary all but lovers to dwell, and lovers for the most part +find their own matters sufficient food for pondering. Tom was busy +with the rehearsals at the Coliseum, and I, being left alone, had +little taste for the _Materia Medica_. On Sundays only did I see +Claire; for this Mrs. Luttrell had stipulated, and my love, too, most +mysteriously professed herself busy during the week. As for me, it +was clear that before marriage could be talked of I must at least +have gained my diplomas, so that the more work I did during the week +the better. The result of this was a goodly sowing of resolutions +and very little harvest. In the evenings, Tom and I would sit +together--he tirelessly polishing and pruning the tragedy, and I for +the most part smoking and giving advice which I am bound to say in +duty to the author ("Francesca" having gained some considerable fame +since those days) was invariably rejected. + +Tom had been growing silent and moody of late--a change for which I +could find no cause. He would answer my questions at random, pause +in his work to gaze long and intently on the ceiling, and altogether +behave in ways unaccountable and strange. The play had been written +at white-hot speed: the corrections proceeded at a snail's pace. +The author had also fallen into a habit of bolting his meals in +silence, and, when rebuked, of slowly bringing his eyes to bear upon +me as a person whose presence was until the moment unsuspected. +All this I saw in mild wonder, but I reflected on certain moods of my +own of late, and held my peace. + +The explanation came without my seeking. We were seated together one +evening, he over his everlasting corrections, and I in some +especially herbaceous nook of the _Materia Medica_, when Tom looked +up and said-- + +"Jasper, I want your opinion on a passage. Listen to this." + +Sick of my flowery solitude, I gave him my attention while he read:-- + + "She is no violet to veil and hide + Before the lusty sun, but as the flower, + His best-named bride, that leaneth to the light + And images his look of lordly love-- + Yet how I wrong her. She is more a queen + Than he a king; and whoso looks must kneel + And worship, conscious of a Sovranty + Undreamt in nature, save it be the Heaven + That minist'ring to all is queen of all, + And wears the proud sun's self but as a gem + To grace her girdle, one among the stars. + Heaven is Francesca, and Francesca Heaven. + Without her, Heaven is dispossessed of Heaven, + And Earth, discrowned and disinherited, + Shall beg in black eclipse, until her eyes--" + +"Stay," I interrupted, "unless I am mistaken her eyes are like the +Pleiads, a simile to which I have more than once objected." + +"If you would only listen you would find those lines cut out," said +Tom, pettishly. + +"In that case I apologise: nevertheless, if that is your idea of a +Francesca, I confess she seems to me a trifle--shall we say?-- +massive." + +"Your Claire, I suppose, is stumpy?" + +"My Claire," I replied with dignity, "is neither stumpy nor +stupendous." + +"In fact, just the right height." + +"Well, yes, just the right height." + +Tom paid no attention, but went on in full career-- + +"I hate your Griseldas, your Jessamys, your Mary Anns; give me +Semiramis, Dido, Joan of--" + +"My dear Tom, not all at once, I hope." + +"Bah! you are so taken up with your own choice, that you must needs +scoff at anyone who happens to differ. I tell you, woman should be +imperial, majestic; should walk as a queen and talk as a goddess. +You scoff because you have never seen such; you shut your eyes and go +about saying, 'There is no such woman.' By heaven, Jasper, if you +could only see--" + +At this point Tom suddenly pulled up and blushed like any child. + +"Go on--whom shall I see?" + +Tom's blush was beautiful to look upon. + +"The Lambert, for instance; I meant--" + +"Who is the Lambert?" + +"Do you mean to say you have never heard of Clarissa Lambert, the +most glorious actress in London?" + +"Never. Is she acting at the Coliseum?" + +"Of course she is. She takes Francesca. Oh, Jasper, you should see +her, she is divine!" + +Here another blush succeeded. + +"So," I said after a pause, "you have taken upon yourself to fall in +love with this Clarissa Lambert." + +Tom looked unutterably sheepish. + +"Is the passion returned?" + +"Jasper, don't talk like that and don't be a fool. Of course I have +never breathed a word to her. Why, she hardly knows me, has hardly +spoken to me beyond a few simple sentences. How should I, a +miserable author without even a name, speak to her? Jasper, do you +like the name Clarissa?" + +"Not half so well as Claire." + +"Nonsense; Claire is well enough as names go, but nothing to +Clarissa. Mark how the ending gives it grace and quaintness; what a +grand eighteenth-century ring it has! It is superb--so sweet, and at +the same time so stately." + +"And replaces Francesca so well in scansion." + +Tom's face was confession. + +"You should see her, Jasper--her eyes. What colour are Claire's?" + +"Deep grey." + +"Clarissa's are hazel brown: I prefer brown; in fact I always thought +a woman should have brown eyes: we won't quarrel about inches, but +you will give way in the matter of eyes, will you not?" + +"Not an inch." + +"It really is wonderful," said Tom, "how the mere fact of being in +love is apt to corrupt a man's taste. Now in the matter of voice--I +dare wager that your Claire speaks in soft and gentle numbers." + +"As an Aeolian harp," said I, and I spoke truth. + +"Of course, unrelieved tenderness and not a high note in the gamut. +But you should hear Clarissa; I only ask you to hear her once, and +let those glorious accents play upon your crass heart for a moment or +two. O Jasper, Jasper, it shakes the very soul!" + +Tom was evidently in a very advanced stage of the sickness; I could +not find it in my heart to return his flouts of a month before, so I +said-- + +"Very well, my dear Tom, I shall look upon your divinity in November. +I do not promise you she will have the effect that you look forward +to, but I am glad your Francesca will be worthily played; and, Tom, I +am glad you are in love; I think it improves you." + +"It is hopeless--absolutely hopeless; she is cold as ice." + +"What, with that voice and those eyes? Nonsense, man." + +"She is cold as ice," groaned poor Tom; "everyone says so." + +"Of course everyone says so; you ought to be glad of that, for this +is the one point on which what everyone says must from the nature of +things be false. Why, man, if she beamed on the whole world, then I +might believe you." + +From which it will be gathered that I had learned something from +being in love. + + +So sad did I consider Tom's case, that I spoke to Claire about it +when I saw her next. + +"Claire," I said, "you have often heard me speak of Tom." + +"Really, Jasper, you seldom speak of anybody else. In fact I am +growing quite jealous of this friend." + +After the diversion caused by this speech, I resumed-- + +"But really Tom is the best of fellows, and if I talk much of him it +is because he is my only friend. You must see him, Claire, and you +will be sure to like him. He is so clever!" + +"What is the name of this genius--I mean the other name?" + +"Why, Loveday, of course--Thomas Loveday. Do you mean to say I have +never told you?" + +"Never," said Claire, meditatively. "Loveday--Thomas Loveday--is it +a common name?" + +"No, I should think not very common. Don't you like it?" + +"It--begins well." + +Here followed another diversion. + +"But what I was going to say about Tom," I continued, "is this--he +has fallen in love; in fact, I have never seen a man so deeply in +love." + +"Oh!" + +"Anyone else," I corrected, "for of course I was quite as bad; you +understand that." + +"We were talking of Thomas Loveday." + +"Oh, yes, of Tom. Well, Tom, you know--or perhaps you do not. +At any rate, Tom has written a tragedy." + +"All about love?" + +"Well, not quite all; though there is a good deal in it, considering +it was written when the author had no idea of what the passion was +like. But that is not the point. This tragedy is coming out at the +Coliseum in November. Are you not well, Claire?" + +"Yes, yes; go on. What has all this to do with Tom's love?" + +"I am coming to that. Tom, of course, has been attending the +rehearsals lately. He will not let me come until the piece is ready, +for he is wonderfully nervous. I am to come and see it on the first +night. Well, as I was saying, Tom has been going to rehearsals, and +has fallen in love with--guess with whom." + +Claire was certainly getting very white. + +"Are you sure you are well, Claire?" I asked, anxiously. + +"Oh, yes; quite sure. But tell me with whom--how should I guess?" + +"Why, with the leading actress; one Clarissa Lambert, is it not?" + +"Clarissa--Lambert!" + +"Why, Claire, what is the matter? Are you faint?" For my love had +turned deathly pale, and seemed as though she would faint indeed. + +We were in the old spot so often revisited, though the leaves were +yellowing fast, and the blackbird's note had long ceased utterly. +I placed my arm around her for support, but my darling unlocked it +after a moment, struggled with her pallor, and said-- + +"No, no; I am better. It was a little faintness, but is passing off. +Go on, and tell me about Mr. Loveday." + +"I am afraid I bored you. But that is all. Do you know this +Clarissa Lambert? Have you seen her?" + +"Yes--I have seen her." + +"I suppose she is very famous; at least, Tom says so. He also says +she is divine; but I expect, from his description, that she is of the +usual stamp of Tragedy Queen, tall and loud, with a big voice." + +"Did he tell you that?" + +"No, of course Tom raves about her. But there is no accounting for +what a lover will say." This statement was made with all the sublime +assurance of an accepted man. "But you have seen her," I went on, +"and can tell me how far his description is true. I suppose she is +much the same as other actresses, is she not?" + +"Jasper," said Claire, very gently, after a pause, "do you ever go to +a theatre?" + +"Very seldom; in fact, about twice only since I have been in London." + +"I suppose you were taught as a boy to hate such things?" + +"Well," I laughed, "I do not expect Uncle Loveday would have approved +of Tom's choice, if that is what you mean. But that does not matter, +I fear, as Tom swears that his case is hopeless. He worships from +afar, and says that she is as cold as ice. In fact, he has never +told his love, but lets concealment like a--" + +"That is not what I meant. Do you--do you think all actors and +actresses wicked?" + +"Of course not. Why should I?" + +"You are going to see--" + +"'Francesca'? Oh, yes, on the opening night." + +"Then possibly we shall meet. Will you look out for me?" + +"Let me take you, Claire. Oh, I am glad indeed! You will see Tom +there, and, I hope, be able to congratulate him on his triumph. +So let me take you." + +She shook her head. + +"No, no." + +"Why?" + +"Because that is impossible--really. I shall see you there, and you +will see me. Is not that enough?" + +"If you say so, it must be," I answered sadly. "But--" + +"'But me no buts,'" she quoted. "See, it is getting late; we must be +going." + +A most strange silence fell upon us on the way back to Streatley. +Claire's face had not yet wholly regained its colour, and she seemed +disinclined to talk. So I had to solace myself by drinking in long +draughts of her loveliness, and by whispering to my soul how poorly +Tom's Queen of Tragedy would show beside my sweetheart. + +O fool and blind! + +Presently my love asked musingly-- + +"Jasper, do you think that you could cease to love me?" + +"Claire, how can you ask it?" + +"You are quite sure? You remember what mother said?" + +"Claire, love is strong as death. How does the text run? +'Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if +a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would +utterly be contemned.' Claire, you must believe that!" + +"'Strong as death,'" she murmured. "Yes, I believe it. What a +lovely text that is!" + +The boat touched shore at Streatley, and we stepped out. + +"Jasper," she said again at parting that night, "you have no +doubt, no grain of doubt, about my question, and the answer? +'Strong as death,' you are sure?" + +For answer I strained her to my heart. + +O fool and blind! O fool and blind! + + +The night that was big with Tom's fate had come. The Coliseum was +crowded as we entered. In those days the theatre had no stalls, so +we sat in the front row of the dress circle, Tom having in his +modesty refused a box. He was behind the scenes until some five +minutes before the play began, so that before he joined me I had +ample time to study the house and look about for some sign of Claire. + +Certainly, the sedulous manner in which the new tragedy had been +advertised was not without result. To me, unused as I was to +theatre-going, the host of people, the hot air, the glare of the +gas-lights were intoxicating. In a flutter of anxiety for Tom's +success, of sweet perturbation at the prospect of meeting Claire, at +first I could grasp but a confused image of the scene. By degrees, +however, I began to look about me, and then to scan the audience +narrowly for sight of my love. + +Surely I should note her at once among thousands. Yet my first +glance was fruitless. I looked again, examined the house slowly face +by face, and again was baffled. I could see all but a small portion +of the pit, the upper boxes and gallery. Pit and gallery were out of +the question. She might, though it was hardly likely, be in the tier +just above, and I determined to satisfy myself after the end of Act +I. Meantime I scanned the boxes. There were twelve on either side +of the house, and all were full. By degrees I satisfied myself that +strangers occupied all of them, except the box nearest the stage on +the right of the tier where I was sitting. The occupants of this +were out of sight. Only a large yellow and black fan was swaying +slowly backwards and forwards to tell me that somebody sat there. + +Somehow, the slow, ceaseless motion of this pricked my curiosity. +Its pace, as it waved to and fro, was unaltered; the hand that moved +it seemingly tireless; but even the hand was hidden. Not a finger +could I gain a glimpse of. By some silly freak of fancy I was +positively burning with eagerness to see the fan's owner, when Tom +returned and took his seat beside me. + +"It begins in five minutes; everything is ready," said he, and his +voice had a nervous tremor which he sought in vain to hide. + +"Courage!" I said; "at least the numbers here should flatter you." + +"They frighten me! What shall I do if it fails?" + +The overture was drawing to its close. Tom looked anxiously around +the house. + +"Yes," he said, "it is crowded, indeed. By the way, was not Claire +to have been here? Point her out to me." + +"She was; but I cannot see her anywhere. Perhaps she is late." + +"If so, I cannot see where she is to find a place. Hush! they are +ending." + +As he spoke, the last strains of the orchestra died slowly and +mournfully away, and the curtain rose upon "Francesca: a Tragedy." + +This play has since gained such a name, not only from its own merits +(which are considerable), but in consequence also of certain +circumstances which this story will relate, that it would be not only +tedious but unnecessary to follow its action in detail. For the +benefit, however, of those who did not see it at the Coliseum, I here +subjoin a short sketch of the plot, which the better-informed reader +may omit. + +Francesca is the daughter of Sebastian, at one time Duke of Bologna, +but deposed and driven from his palace by the intrigues of his +younger brother Charles. At the time when the action begins, +Sebastian is chief of a band of brigands, the remains of his faithful +adherents, whom he has taken with him to the fastnesses of the +Apennines. Charles, who has already usurped the duchy for some +sixteen years, is travelling with his son Valentine, a youth of +twenty, near the haunt of his injured brother. Separated from their +escort, they are wandering up a pass, when Valentine stops to admire +the view, promising his father to join him at the summit. While thus +occupied, he is startled by the entrance of Francesca, and, struck +with her beauty, accosts her. She, sympathising for so noble a +youth, warns him of the banditti, and he hastens on only to find his +father lying at the foot of a precipitous rock, dead. He supposes +him to have fallen, has the body conveyed back to Bologna, and having +by this time fallen deeply in love with Francesca, prevails on her to +leave her father and come with him. She consents, and flies with +him, but after some time finds that he is deserting her for Julia, +daughter of the Duke of Ferrara. Slighted and driven to desperation, +she makes her way back to her father, is forgiven, and learns that +Charles' death was due to no accident, but to her father's hand. +No sooner is this discovery made than Valentine and Julia are brought +in by the banditti, who have surprised and captured them, but do not +know their rank. The deposed duke, Sebastian, does not recognise +Valentine, and consigns him, with his wife, to a cave, under guard of +the brigands. It is settled by Sebastian that on the morrow +Valentine is to go and fetch a ransom, leaving his wife behind. +Francesca, having plied the guards with drink, enters by night into +the cave where they lie captive, is recognised by them, and offers to +change dresses with Julia in order that husband and wife may escape. +A fine scene follows of insistence and self-reproach, but ultimately +Francesca prevails. Valentine and Julia pass out in the grey dawn, +and Francesca, left alone, stabs herself. The play concludes as her +father enters the cave and discovers his daughter's corpse. + +The first scene (which is placed at the court of Bologna) passed +without disaster, and the curtain fell for a moment before it rose +upon the mountain pass. Hitherto the audience had been chilly. +They did not hiss, but neither did they applaud; and I could feel, +without being able to give any definite reason for the impression, +that so far the play had failed. Tom saw it too. I did not dare to +look in his face, but could tell his agony by his short and laboured +breathing. Luckily his torture did not last long, for the curtain +quickly rose for Scene 2. + +The scene was beautifully painted and awakened a momentary enthusiasm +in the audience. It died away, however, as Sebastian and Valentine +entered. The dialogue between them was short, and Valentine was very +soon left alone to a rather dull soliloquy (since shortened) which +began to weary the audience most unmistakably. I caught the sound of +a faint hiss, saw one or two people yawning; and then-- + +Stealing, rising, swelling, gathering as it thrilled the ear all +graces and delights of perfect sound; sweeping the awed heart with +touch that set the strings quivering to an ecstasy that was almost +pain; breathing through them in passionate whispering; hovering, +swaying, soaring upward to the very roof, then shivering down again +in celestial shower of silver--there came a voice that trod all +conceptions, all comparisons, all dreams to scorn; a voice beyond +hope, beyond belief; a voice that in its unimaginable beauty seemed +to compel the very heaven to listen. + +And yet--surely I knew--surely it could not be-- + +I must be dreaming--mad! The bare notion was incredible--and even as +my heart spoke the words, the theatre grew dim and shadowy; the vast +sea of faces heaved, melted, swam in confusion; all sound came dull +and hoarse upon my ear; while there--there-- + +There, in the blaze of light, radiant, lovely, a glorified and +triumphant queen, stepped forward before the eyes of that vast +multitude--my love, my Claire! + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +TELLS HOW THE BLACK AND YELLOW FAN SENT A MESSAGE; AND HOW I SAW A +FACE IN THE FOG. + +As I sat stupefied our eyes met. It was but for an instant, but in +that instant I saw that she recognised me and mutely challenged my +verdict. Then she turned to Valentine. + +The theatre rang with tumultuous plaudits as her song ended. I could +feel Tom's grasp at my elbow, but I could neither echo the applause +nor answer him. It was all so wildly, grotesquely improbable. + +This then was my love, this the Claire whom I had wooed and won in +the shy covert of Pangbourne Woods--this deified and transfigured +being before whom thousands were hushed in awe. Those were the lips +that had faltered in sweet confession--those before which the breath +of thousands came and went in agitated wonder. It was incredible. + +And then, as Tom's hand was laid upon my arm, it flashed upon me that +the woman he loved was my plighted bride--and he knew nothing of it. +As this broke upon me there swept over me an awful dread lest he +should see my face and guess the truth. How could I tell him? +Poor Tom! Poor Tom! + +I turned my eyes upon Claire again. Yes, she was superb: beyond all +challenge glorious. And all the more I felt as one who has betrayed +his friend and is angry with fate for sealing such betrayal beyond +revoke. + +Whether Claire misinterpreted my look of utter stupefaction or not, I +do not know; but as she turned and recognised Valentine there was a +tremor in her voice which the audience mistook for art, though I knew +it to be but too real. I tried to smile and to applaud, but neither +eyes nor hand would obey my will; and so even Claire's acting became +a reproach and an appeal to me, pleading forgiveness to which my soul +cried assent though my voice denied it. Minute after minute I sat +beneath an agonising spell I could not hope to break. + + +"Congratulate me, Jasper. What do you think of her?" + +It was Tom's voice beside me. Congratulate him! I felt the meanest +among men. + +"She is--glorious," I stammered. + +"I knew you would say so. Unbeliever, did ever man see such eyes? +Confess now, what are Claire's beside them?" + +"Claire's--are--much the same." + +"Why, man, Claire's were deep grey but a day or two ago, and +Clarissa's are the brownest of brown; but of course you cannot see +from here." + +Alas! I knew too surely the colour of Claire's eyes, so like brown +in the blaze of the foot-lights. And her height--Tom had only seen +her walk in tragic buskin. How fatally easy had the mistake been! + +"Tom, your success is certain now." + +"Yes, thanks to her. They were going to damn the play before she +entered. I could see it. Did you see, Jasper? She looked this way +for a moment. Do you think she meant to encourage me? By the way, +have you caught sight of Claire yet?" + +Oh, Tom, Tom, let me spare you for this night! My heart throbbed and +something in my throat seemed choking me as I muttered, "Yes." + +"Then do not stay congratulating me, but fly. Success spoils the +lover. Ah, Jasper, if only Clarissa had summoned me! Hasten: I will +keep my eye upon you and smile approval on your taste. Where is +she?" + +Again something seemed to catch me by the throat; I was struggling to +answer when I heard a voice behind me say, "For you, sir," and a note +was thrust into my hand. With beating heart I opened it, expecting +to see Claire's handwriting. But the note was not from her. It was +scribbled hastily with pencil in a bold hand, and ran thus:-- + + "An old friend wishes to see you. Come, if you have time. + Box No. 7." + +At first I thought the message must have reached me by mistake, but +it was very plainly directed to "J. Trenoweth, Esq." I looked around +for the messenger but found him gone, and fell to scanning the boxes +once more. + +As before, they were filled with strangers; and, as before, the black +and yellow fan was waving slowly to and fro, as though the hand that +wielded it was no hand at all, but rather some untiring machine. +Still the owner remained invisible. I hesitated, reflected a moment, +and decided that even a fool's errand was better than enduring the +agony of Tom's rapture. I rose. + +"I will be back again directly," I said, and then left him. + +Still pondering on the meaning of this message, I made my way down +the passages until I came to the doors of the boxes, and stopped +opposite that labelled "No. 7." As I did so, it struck me that this, +from its position, must be the one which contained the black and +yellow fan. By this time thoroughly curious, I knocked. + +"Come in," said a low voice which I seemed to remember. + +I entered and found myself face to face with the yellow woman--the +mistress of the gambling-hell. + +She was seated there alone, slightly retired from the view of the +house and in the shadow; but her arm, as it rested on the cushion, +still swayed the black and yellow fan, and her diamonds sparkled +lustrously as ever in the glare that beat into the box. Her dress, +as if to emphasise the hideousness of her skin and form a staring +contrast with her wrinkled face and white hair, was of black and +yellow, in which she seemed some grisly corpse masquerading as youth. + +Struck dumb by this apparition, I took the seat into which she +motioned me, while her wonderful eyes regarded my face with stony +impassiveness. I could hear the hoarse murmurs of the house and feel +the stifling heat as it swept upwards from the pit. The strange +woman did not stir except to keep up the ceaseless motion of her +wrist. + +For a full five minutes, as it seemed to me, we sat there silently +regarding each other. Then at last she spoke, and the soft voice was +as musically sympathetic as ever. + +"You seem astonished to see me, Mr. Trenoweth, and yet I have been +looking for you for a long time." + +I bowed. + +"I have been expecting you to give me a chance of redeeming my +defeat." + +"I am sorry," stammered I, not fully recovered from my surprise, +"but that is not likely." + +"No? From my point of view it was extremely likely. But somehow +I had a suspicion that you would be different from the rest. +Perhaps it was because I had set my heart upon your coming." + +"I hope," said I, "that the money--" + +She smiled and waved her hand slightly. + +"Do not trouble about that. Had I chosen, I could have gone on +losing to you until this moment. No, perhaps it was simply because +you were least likely to do so, that I wished you to come back as all +other young men would come back. I hope you reached home safely with +what you won; but I need not ask that." + +"Indeed you need. I was attacked as I left the room, and but for a +lucky accident, should now be dead." + +"Ah," she said placidly; "you suspect me. Don't say 'no,' for +I can see you do. Nevertheless you are entirely wrong. +Why, Mr. Trenoweth, had I chosen, do you think I could not have had +you robbed before you had gone three paces from the house?" + +This was said with such composure, and her eyes were so absolutely +void of emotion, that I could but sit and gasp. Once more I recalled +the moment when, as I fled down the dark passage, I had seen her +sitting motionless and calm in the light of her countless candles. + +"But do you think I sent for you to tell you that?" she continued. +"I sent for you because you interested me, and because I want a talk +with you. Hush! the curtain is rising for the second act. Let us +resume when it has finished; you will not deny me that favour at +least." + +I bowed again, and was silent as the curtain rose--and once more +Claire's superb voice thrilled the house. Surely man was seldom more +strangely placed than was I, between the speech of my love and the +eyes of this extraordinary woman. As I sat in the shadow and +listened, I felt those blazing fires burning into my very soul; yet +whenever I looked up and met them, their icy glitter baffled all +interpretation. Still as I sat there, the voice of Claire came to me +as though beseeching and praying for my judgment, and rising with the +blaze of light and heated atmosphere of the house, swept into the box +until I could bear the oppression no longer. She must have looked +for me, and seeing my place empty, have guessed that I condemned her. +Mad with the thought, I rose to my feet and stood for a minute full +in the light of the theatre. It may not have been even a minute, but +she saw me, and once more, as our gaze met, faltered for an instant. +Then the voice rang out clear and true again, and I knew that all was +well between us. Yet in her look there was something which I could +not well interpret. + +As I sank back in my seat, I met the eyes of my companion still +impenetrably regarding me. But as the curtain fell she said +quietly-- + +"So you know Clarissa Lambert?" + +I stammered an affirmative. + +"Well? You admire her acting?" + +"I never saw it until to-night." + +"That is strange; and yet you know her?" + +I nodded. + +"She is a great success--on which I congratulate myself, for I +discovered her." + +"You!" I could only exclaim. + +"Yes, I. Is it so extraordinary? She and I are connected, so to +speak; which makes it the more odd that she should never have +mentioned you." + +The eyes seemed now to be reading me as a book. I summoned all my +courage and tried to return their steady stare. There was a pause, +broken only by the light_ frou-frou_ of the fan, as it still waved +slowly backwards and forwards. Among all the discoveries of this +night, it was hard enough to summon reason, harder to utter speech. + +"But you will be leaving me again if I do not explain why I sent for +you. You are wondering now on my reasons. They are very simple-- +professional even, in part. In the first place, I wished to have a +good look at you. Do you wonder why an old woman should wish to look +upon a comely youth? Do not blush; but listen to my other and +professional reason. I should greatly like, if I may, to look upon +your talisman--that golden buckle or whatever it was that brought +such marvellous luck. Is it on you to-night?" + +I wore it, as a matter of fact, in my waistcoat pocket, attached to +one end of my chain; but I hesitated for a moment. + +"You need not be afraid," she said, and there was a suspicion of +mockery in her tone. "I will return it, as I returned it before. +But if you are reluctant to let me see it (and remember, I have seen +it once), do not hesitate to refuse. I shall not be annoyed." + +Reflecting that, after all, her curiosity was certain to be baffled, +I handed her the Golden Clasp, with the chain, in silence. + +"It is a curious relic," said she, as she slowly examined it and laid +it on her lap for a moment. "If the question be allowed, how did you +become possessed of it?" + +"It belonged to my father," I answered. + +"Excuse me," she said, deliberately, "that is hardly an answer to my +question." + +During the silence that followed, she took up the clasp again, and +studied the writing. As she did so she used her right hand only; +indeed, during the whole time, her left had been occupied with her +tireless fan. I fancied, though I could not be certain, that it was +waving slightly faster than before. + +"The writing seems to be nonsense. What is this--'Moon end +South--deep at point'? I can make no meaning of it. I suppose +there is a meaning?" + +"Not to my knowledge," said I, and immediately repented, for once +more I seemed to catch that gleam in her eyes which had so baffled me +when first she saw the Clasp. The curtain rose upon the third act of +"Francesca," and we sat in silence, she with the Clasp lying upon her +lap, I wondering by what possibility she could know anything about my +father's secret. She could not, I determined. The whole history of +the Golden Clasp made it impossible. And yet I repented my rashness. +It was too late now, however; so, when the act was over I waited for +her to speak. + +"So this belonged to your father. Tell me, was he at all like you?" + +"He was about my height, I should guess," said I, wondering at this +new question; "but otherwise quite unlike. He was a fair man, I am +dark." + +"But your grandfather--was he not dark?" + +"I believe so," I answered, "but really--" + +"You wonder at my questions, of course. Never mind me; think me a +witch, if you like. Do I not look a witch?" + +Indeed she did, as she sat there. The diamonds flashed and gleamed, +lighting up the awful colour of her skin until she seemed a very +"Death-in-Life." + +"I see that I puzzle you; but your looks, Mr. Trenoweth, are hardly +complimentary. However, you are forgiven. Here, take your talisman, +and guard it jealously; I thank you for showing it to me, but if I +were you I should keep it secret. Shall I see you again? I suppose +not. I am afraid I have made you miss some of the tragedy. You must +pardon me for that, as I have waited long to see you. At any rate, +there is the last act to come. Good-bye, and be careful of your +talisman." + +As she spoke, she shut her fan with a sharp click, and then it +flashed upon me that it had never ceased its pendulous motion until +that instant. It was a strange idea to strike me then, but a +stranger yet succeeded. Was it that I heard a low mocking laugh +within the box as I stepped out into the passage? I cannot clearly +tell; perhaps it is but a fancy conjured up by later reflection on +that meeting and its consequences. I only know that as I bowed and +left her, the vision that I bore away was not of the gleaming gems, +the yellow face, the white hair, or waving fan, but of two coal-black +and impenetrable eyes. + +I sought my place, and dropped into the seat beside Tom. The fourth +act was beginning, so that I had time to speculate upon my interview, +but could find no hope of solution. Finally, I abandoned guessing, +to admire Claire. As the play went on, her acting grew more and more +transcendent. Lines which I had heard from Tom's lips and scoffed +at, were now fused with subtle meaning and passion. Scenes which I +had condemned as awkward and heavy, became instinct with exquisite +pathos. There comes a point in acting at which criticism ceases, +content to wonder; this point it was clear that my love had touched. +The new play was a triumphant success. + +"So," said Tom, before the last act, "Claire carries a yellow fan, +does she? I looked everywhere for you at first, and only caught +sight of you for an instant by the merest chance. You behaved rather +shabbily in giving me no chance of criticism, for I never caught a +glimpse of her. I hope she admired--Hallo! she's gone!" + +I followed his gaze, and saw that Box No. 7 was no longer occupied by +the fan. + +"I suppose you saw her off? Well, I do not admire your taste, I must +confess--nor Claire's--to go when Francesca was beginning to touch +her grandest height. Whew! you lovers make me blush for you." + +"Tom." I said, anxious to lead him from all mention of Claire, +"you must forgive me for having laughed at your play." + +"Forgive you! I will forgive you if you weep during the next act; +only on that condition." + +How shall I describe the last act? Those who read "Francesca" in its +published form can form no adequate idea of the enthusiasm in the +Coliseum that night. To them it is a skeleton; then it was clothed +with passionate flesh and blood, breathed, sobbed and wept in purest +pathos; to me, even now, as I read it again, it is charged with the +inspiration of that wonderful art, so true, so tender, that made its +last act a miracle. I saw old men sob, and young men bow their heads +to hide the emotion which they could not check. I saw that audience +which had come to criticise, tremble and break into tumultuous +weeping. Beside me, a greyheaded man was crying as any child. +Yet why do I go on? No one who saw Clarissa Lambert can ever +forget--no one who saw her not can ever imagine. + +Tom had bowed his acknowledgments, the last flower had been flung, +the last cheer had died away as we stepped out into the Strand +together. The street was wrapped in the densest of November fogs. +So thick was it that the lamps, the shop windows, came into sight, +stared at us in ghostly weakness for a moment, and then were gone, +leaving us in Egyptian gloom. I could not hope to see Claire +to-night, and Tom was too modest to offer his congratulations until +the morning. Both he and I were too shaken by the scene just past +for many words, and outside the black fog caught and held us by the +throat. + +Even in the pitchy gloom I could feel that Tom's step was buoyant. +He was treading already in imagination the path of love and fame. +How should I have the heart to tell him? How wither the chaplet that +already seemed to bind his brow? + +Tom was the first to break the silence which had fallen upon us. + +"Jasper, did you ever see or hear the like? Can a man help +worshipping her? But for her, 'Francesca' would have been hissed. +I know it, I could see it, and now, I suppose, I shall be famous. + +"Famous!" continued he, soliloquising. "Three months ago I would +have given the last drop of my blood for fame; and now, without +Clarissa, fame will be a mockery. Do you think I might have any +chance, the least chance?" + +How could I answer him? The fog caught my breath as I tried to +stammer a reply, and Tom, misinterpreting my want of words, read his +condemnation. + +"You do not? Of course, you do not; and you are right. Success has +intoxicated me, I suppose. I am not used to the drink!" and he +laughed a joyless laugh. + +Then, with a change of mood, he caught my hat from off my head, and +set his own in its place. + +"We will change characters for the nonce," he said, "after the +fashion of Falstaff and Prince Hal, and I will read myself a +chastening discourse on the vanity of human wishes. 'Do thou stand +for me, and I'll play my father.' Eh, Jasper?" + +"'Well, here I am set,'" quoted I, content to humour him. + +"Well, then, I know thee; thou art Thomas Loveday, a beggarly Grub +Street author, i' faith, a man of literature, and wouldst set eyes +upon one to whom princes fling bouquets; a low Endymion puffing a +scrannel pipe, and wouldst call therewith a queen to be thy bride. +Out upon thee for such monstrous folly!" + +In his voice, as it came to me through the dense gloom, there rang, +for all its summoned gaiety, a desperate mockery hideous to hear. + +"Behold, success hath turned thy weak brain. But an hour agone +enfranchised from Grub Street, thou must sing 'I'd be a butterfly.' +Thou art vanity absolute, conceit beyond measure, and presumption out +of all whooping. Yea, and but as a fool Pygmalion, not content with +loving thine own handiwork, thou must needs fall in love with the +goddess that breathed life into its stiff limbs; must yearn, not for +Galatea, but for Aphrodite; not for Francesca, but for--Ah!" + +What was that? I saw a figure start up as if from below our feet, +and Tom's hand go up to his breast. There was a scuffle, a curse, +and as I dashed forward, a dull, dim gleam--and Tom, with a groan, +sank back into my arms. + +That was all. A moment, and all had happened. Yet not all; for as I +caught the body of my friend, and saw his face turn ashy white in the +gloom, I saw also, saw unmistakably framed for an instant in the +blackness of the fog, a face I knew; a face I should know until death +robbed my eyes of sight and my brain of remembrance--the face of +Simon Colliver. + +A moment, and before I could pursue, before I could even shout or +utter its name, it had faded into the darkness, and was gone. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +TELLS HOW CLAIRE WENT TO THE PLAY; AND HOW SHE SAW THE GOLDEN CLASP. + +Tom was dying. His depositions had been taken and signed with his +failing hand; the surgeon had given his judgment, and my friend was +lying upon his bed, face to face with the supreme struggle. + +The knife had missed his heart by little more than an inch, but the +inward bleeding was killing him and there was no hope. He knew it, +and though the reason of that cowardly blow was a mystery to him, he +asked few questions, but faced his fate with the old boyish pluck. +His eyes as they turned to mine were lit with the old boyish love. + +Once only since his evidence was taken had his lips moved, and then +to murmur _her_ name. I had sent for her: a short note with only the +words "Tom is dying and wants to speak with you." So, while we +waited, I sat holding my friend's hand and busy with my own black +thoughts. + +I knew that he had received the blow meant for me, and that +the secret of this too, as well as that other assault in the +gambling-den, hung on the Golden Clasp and the Great Ruby. +Whatever that secret was, the yellow woman knew of it, and held it +beneath the glitter of her awful eyes. She it was that had directed +the murderous knife in the hands of Simon Colliver. Bitterly I +cursed the folly which had prompted my rash words in the theatre, and +so sacrificed my friend. With what passion, even in my despair, I +thanked Heaven that the act which led to Colliver's mistake had been +Tom's and not mine! Yet, what consolation was it? It was I, not he, +that should be lying there. He had given his life for his friend--a +friend who had already robbed him of his love. O false and +traitorous friend! + +In my humiliation I would have taken my hand from his, but a feeble +pressure and a look of faint reproach restrained me. So he lay there +and I sat beside him, and both counted the moments until Claire +should come--or death. + +A knock at the door outside. Tom heard it and in his eyes shone a +light of ineffable joy. In answer to his look I dropped his hand and +went to meet her. + +"Claire, how can I thank you for this speed?" + +"How did it happen?" + +"Murdered!" said I. "Foully struck down last night as he left the +theatre." + +Her eyes looked for a moment as though they would have questioned me +further, but she simply asked-- + +"Does he want to see me?" + +"When he heard he was to die he asked for you. Claire, if you only +knew how he longs to see you; had you only seen his eyes when he +heard you come! You know why--" + +She nodded gravely. + +"I suppose," she said slowly, "we had better say nothing of--" + +"Nothing," I answered; "it is better so. If there be any knowledge +beyond the grave he will know all soon." + +Claire was silent. + +"Yes," she assented at length, "it is better so. Take me to him." + +I drew back as Claire approached the bed, dreading to meet Tom's +eyes; but I saw them welcome her in a flash of thankful rapture, then +slowly close as though unable wholly to bear this glad vision. + +Altogether lovely she was as she bent and lifted his nerveless hand, +with the light of purest compassion on her face. + +"You have come then," said the dying man. "God bless you for that!" + +"I am come, and oh! I am so very, very sorry." + +"I saw Jasper write and knew he had sent, but I hardly dared to hope. +I am--very weak--and am going--fast." + +For answer, a tear of infinite pity dropped on the white hand. + +"Don't weep--I can't bear to see you weeping. It is all for the +best. I can see that I have had hopes and visions, but I should +never have attained them--never. Now I shall not have to strive. +Better so--better so." + +For a moment or two the lips moved inaudibly; then they spoke again-- + +"It was so good of you--to come; I was afraid--afraid--but you are +good. You saved my play last night, but you cannot save--me." +A wan smile played over the white face and was gone. + +"Better so, for I can speak now and be pardoned. Do you know why I +sent for you? I wanted to tell something--before I died. Do not be +angry--I shall be dead soon, and in the grave, they say, there is no +knowledge. Clarissa! oh, pity me--pity me, if I speak!" + +The eyes looked up imploringly and met their pardon. + +"I have loved you--yes, loved you. Can you forgive? It need not +distress--you--now. It was mad--mad--but I loved you. Jasper, come +here." + +I stepped to the bed. + +"Tell her I loved her, and ask her--to forgive me. Tell her I knew +it was hopeless. Tell her so, Jasper." + +Powerless to meet those trustful eyes, weary with the anguish of my +remorse, I stood there helpless. + +"Jasper is too much--upset just now to speak. Never mind, he will +tell you later. He is in love himself. I have never seen her, but I +hope he may be happier than I. Forgive me for saying that. I am +happy now--happy now. + +"You do not know Jasper," continued the dying man after a pause; "but +he saw you last night--and admired--how could he help it? I hope you +will be friends--for my sake. Jasper is my only friend." + +There was a grey shadow on his face now--the shadow of death. +Tom must have felt it draw near, for suddenly raising himself upon +his elbow, he cried-- + +"Ah, I was selfish--I did not think. They are waiting at the +theatre--go to them. You will act your best--for my sake. +Forget what I have said, if you cannot forgive." + +"Oh, why will you think that?" + +"You do forgive? Oh, God bless you, God bless you for it! Clarissa, +if that be so, grant one thing more of your infinite mercy. Kiss me +once--once only--on the lips. I shall die happier so. Will you--can +you--do this?" + +The film was gathering fast upon those eyes once so full of laughter; +but through it they gazed in passionate appeal. For answer, my love +bent gravely over the bed and with her lips met his; then, still +clasping his hand, sank on her knees beside the bed. + +"Thank God! My love--oh, let me call you that--you cannot--help--my +loving you. Do not pray--I am happy now and--they are waiting for +you." + +Slowly Claire arose to her feet and stood waiting for his last word-- + +"They are waiting--waiting. Good-bye, Jasper--old friend--and +Clarissa--Clarissa--my love--they are waiting--I cannot come--Clar--" + +Slowly Claire bent and once more touched his lips, then without a +word passed slowly out. As she went Death entered and found on its +victim's face a changeless, rapturous smile. + +So "Francesca" was played a second time and, as the papers said next +morning, with even more perfect art and amid more awed enthusiasm +than on the first night. But as the piece went on, a rumour passed +through the house that its young author was dead--suddenly and +mysteriously dead while the dawn of his fame was yet breaking--struck +down, some said, outside the theatre by a rival, while others +whispered that he had taken poison, but none knew for certain. +Only, as Claire passed from one heart-shaking scene to another, the +rumour grew and grew, so that when the curtain fell the audience +parted in awed and murmured speculations. + +And all the while I was kneeling beside the body of my murdered +friend. + + +A week had passed and I was standing with Claire beside Tom's grave. +We had met and spoken at the funeral, but some restraint had lain +upon our tongues. For myself, I was still as one who had sold his +brother for a price, and Claire had forborne from questioning my +grief. + +The coroner's jury had brought in a verdict of "Murder by a certain +person unknown," and now the police were occupied in following such +clues as I could give them. All the daily papers assigned robbery as +the motive, and the disappearance of Tom's watch-chain gave +plausibility to the theory. But I knew too well why that chain had +disappeared, and even in my grief found consolation in the thought of +Colliver's impotent rage when he should come to examine his prize. +I had described the face and figure of my enemy and had even +identified him with the long-missing sailor Georgio Rhodojani, so +that they promised to lay hands on him in a very short space. +But the public knew nothing of this. The only effect of the +newspapers' version of the murder was to send the town crowding in +greater numbers than ever to see the dead man's play. + +Since the first night of "Francesca," Claire and I had only met by +Tom's bedside and at his funeral. But as I entered the gloomy +cemetery that afternoon I spied a figure draped in black beside the +yet unsettled mound, and as I drew near knew it to be Claire. + +So we stood there facing one another for a full minute, at a loss for +words. A wreath of _immortelles_ lay upon the grave. In my heart I +thanked her for the gift, but could not speak. It seemed as though +the hillock that parted us were some impassable barrier to words. +Had I but guessed the truth I should have known that, unseen and +unsuspected, across that foot or two of turf was stretched a gulf we +were never more to cross: between our lives lay the body of my +friend; and not his only, but many a pallid corpse that with its mute +lips cursed our loves. + +Presently Claire raised her head and spoke. + +"Jasper, you have much to forgive me, and I hardly dare ask your +forgiveness. It is too late to ask forgiveness of a dead man, but +could he hear now I would entreat him to pardon the folly that +wrought this cruel mistake." + +"Claire, you could not know. How was it possible to guess?" + +"That is true, but it is no less cruel. And I deceived you. Can you +ever forgive?" + +"Forgive! forgive what? That I found my love peerless among women? +Oh, Claire, Claire, 'forgive'?" + +"Yes; what matters it that for the moment I have what is called fame? +I deceived you--yet, believe me, it was only because I thought to +make the surprise more pleasant. I thought--but it is too late. +Only believe I had no other thought, no other wish. My poor scheme +seemed so harmless at first: then as the days went on I began to +doubt. But until you told me, as we stood beside the river, of-- +_him_, I never guessed;--oh, believe me, I never guessed!" + +"Love, do not accuse yourself in this way. It hurts me to hear you +speak so. If there was any fault it was mine; but the Fates blinded +us. If you had known Tom, you would know that he would forgive could +he hear us now. For me, Claire, what have I to pardon?" + +Claire did not answer for a moment. There was still a trouble in her +face, as though something yet remained to be said and she had not the +courage to utter it. + +"Jasper, there is something besides, which you have to pardon if you +can." + +"My love!" + +"Do you remember what I asked you that night, when you first told me +about _him_?" + +"You asked me a foolish question, if I remember rightly. You asked +if I could ever cease to love you." + +"No, not foolish; I really meant it seriously, and I believed you +when you answered me. Are you of the same mind now? Believe me, I +am not asking lightly." + +"I answer you as I answered you then: 'Love is strong as death.' +My love, put away these thoughts and be sure that I love you as my +own soul." + +"But perhaps, even so, you might be so angry that--Oh, Jasper, how +can I tell you?" + +"Tell me all, Claire." + +"I told you I was called, or that they called me Claire. Were you +not surprised when you saw my name as Clarissa Lambert?" + +"Is that all?" I cried. "Why, of course, I knew how common it is for +actresses to take another name. I was even glad of it; for the name +I know, your own name, is now a secret, and all the sweeter so. +All the world admires Clarissa Lambert, but I alone love Claire +Luttrell, and know that Claire Luttrell loves me." + +"But that is not all," she expostulated, whilst the trouble in her +eyes grew deeper. "Oh, why will you make it so hard for me to +explain? I never thought, when I told you so carelessly on that +night when we met for the first time, that you would grow to care for +me at all. And it was the same afterwards, when I introduced you to +my mother; I gave you the name Luttrell, without ever dreaming--" + +"Was Luttrell not your mother's name?" I asked, perplexed. + +"That is the name by which she is always called now; and I am always +called Claire; in fact, it is my name, but I have another, and I +ought to have told you." + +"Why, as Claire I know you, and as Claire I shall always love you. +What does it matter if your real name be Lambert? You will change +it, love, soon, I trust." + +But my poor little jest woke no mirth in her eyes. + +"No, it is not Lambert. That is only the name I took when I went on +the stage. Nor am I called Luttrell. It is a sad story; but let me +tell it now, and put an end to all deception. I meant to do so long +ago; but lately I thought I would wait until after you had seen me on +the stage; I thought I would explain all together, not knowing +that _he_--but it has all gone wrong. Jasper, I know you will pity +poor mother, even though she had allowed you to be deceived. She has +been so unhappy. But let me tell it first, and then you will judge. +She calls herself Luttrell to avoid persecution; to avoid a man who +is--" + +"A villain, I am sure." + +"A villain, yes; but worse. He is her husband; not my father, but a +second husband. My father died when I was quite a little child, and +she married again. Ever since that day she has been miserable. +I remember her face--oh, so well! when she first discovered the real +character of the man. For years she suffered--we were abroad then-- +until at last she could bear it no longer, so she fled--fled back to +England, and took me with her. I think, but I am not sure, that her +husband did not dare to follow her to England, because he had done +something against the laws. I only guess this, for I never dare to +ask mother about him. I did so once, and shall never forget the look +of terror that came into her eyes. I only guess he has some strong +reason for avoiding England, for I remember we went abroad hastily, +almost directly after that night when mother first discovered that +she had been deceived. However that may be, we came to England, +mother and I, and changed our name to Luttrell, which was her maiden +name. After this, our life became one perpetual dread of discovery. +We were miserably poor, of course, and I was unable to do anything to +help for many years. Mother was so careful; why, she even called me +by my second name, so desperately anxious was she to hide all traces +from that man. Then suddenly we were discovered--not by him, but by +his mother, whom he set to search for us, and she--for she was not +wholly bad--promised to make my fortune on the single condition that +half my earnings were sent to him. Otherwise, she threatened that +mother should have no rest. What could I do? It was the only way to +save ourselves. Well, I promised to go upon the stage, for this +woman fancied she discovered some talent in me. Why, Jasper, how +strangely you are looking!" + +"Tell me--tell me," I cried, "who is this woman?" + +"You ought to know that, for you were in the box with her during most +of the first night of 'Francesca.'" + +A horrible, paralysing dread had seized me. + +"Her name, and his? Quick--tell me, for God's sake!" + +"Colliver. He is called Simon Colliver. But, Jasper, what is it? +What--" + +I took the chain and Golden Clasp and handed them to Claire without +speech. + +"Why, what is this?" she cried. "He has a piece exactly like this, +the fellow to it; I remember seeing it when I was quite small. +Oh, speak! what new mystery, what new trouble is this?" + +"Claire, Colliver is here in London, or was but a week ago." + +"Here!" + +"Yes, Claire; and it was he that murdered Thomas Loveday." + +"Murdered Thomas Loveday! I do not understand." She had turned +a deathly white, and spread out her hands as if for support. +"Tell me--" + +"Yes, Claire," I said, as I stepped to her, and put my arm about her; +"it is truth, as I stand here. Colliver, your mother's husband, +foully murdered my innocent friend for the sake of that piece of +gold; and more, Simon Colliver, for the sake of this same accursed +token, murdered my father!" + +"Your father!" + +She shook off my arm, and stood facing me there, by Tom's grave, with +a look of utter horror that froze my blood. + +"Yes, my father; or stay, I am wrong. Though Colliver prompted, his +was not the hand that did the deed. That he left to a poor wretch +whom he afterwards slew himself--one Railton--John Railton." + +"What!" + +"Why, Claire, Claire! What is it? Speak!" + +"I am Janet Railton!" + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +TELLS HOW THE CURTAIN FELL UPON "FRANCESCA: A TRAGEDY." + +For a moment I staggered back as though buffeted in the face, then, +as our eyes met and read in each other the desperate truth, I sprang +forward just in time to catch her as she fell. Blindly, as if in +some hideous trance, reeling and stumbling over the graves, I carried +her in my arms to the cemetery gate and stood there panting and +bewildered. + +Cold and white as marble she lay in my arms, so that for one terrible +moment I thought her dead. "Better so," my heart had cried, and then +I laughed aloud (God forgive me!) at the utter cruelty of it all. +But she was not dead. As I watched the lovely ashen face, the slow +blood came trickling back and throbbed faintly at her temples, the +light breath flickered and went and came once more. Feebly and with +wonder the dark eyes opened to the light of day, then closed again as +the lips parted in a moaning whisper. + +"Claire!" I cried, and my voice seemed to come from far away, so +hollow and unnatural was it, "I must take you to your home; are you +well enough to go?" + +I had laid her on the stone upon which the bearers were used to set +down the coffins when weary. Scarcely a week ago, poor Tom's corpse +had rested for a moment upon this grim stone. As I bent to catch the +answer, and saw how like to death her face was, I thought how well it +were for both of us, should we be resting there so together; not +leaving the acre of the dead, but entering it as rightful heirs of +its oblivion. + +After a while, as I repeated my question, the lips again parted and I +heard. + +I looked down the road. The cemetery lay far out in one of the +northern suburbs, and just now the neighbourhood seemed utterly +deserted. By good chance, however, I spied an old four-wheeler +crawling along in the distance. I ran after it, hailed it, brought +it back, and with the help of the wondering driver, placed my love +inside; then I gave the man the address, and bidding him drive with +all speed, sprang in beside Claire. + +Still faint, she was lying back against the cushion. The cab crawled +along at a snail's pace, but long as the journey was, it was passed +in utter silence. She never opened her eyes, and as for me, what +comfortable words could I speak? Yet as I saw the soft rise and fall +of her breast, I longed for words, Heaven knows how madly! But none +came, and in silence we drew up at length before a modest doorway in +Old Kensington. + +Here Claire summoned all her strength lest her mother should be +frightened. Still keeping her eyes averted, she stepped as bravely +as she could from the cab, and laid her hand upon the door-handle. + +I made as if to follow. + +"No, no," she said hastily, "leave me to myself--I will write +to-morrow and perhaps see you; but, oh, pray, not to-day!" + +Before I could answer she had passed into the house. + + +Twenty-four hours had passed and left me as they found me, in +torture. Despite my doubt, I swore she should not cast me off; then +knelt and prayed as I had never prayed before, that Heaven would deny +some of its cruelty to my darling. In the abandonment of my +supplication, I was ready to fling the secret from me and forgive +all, to forgive my father's murderer, my life-long enemy, and let him +go unsought, rather than give up Claire. Yet as I prayed, my +entreaties and my tears went up to no compassionate God, but beat +themselves upon the adamantine face of Dead Man's Rock that still +rose inexorable between me and Heaven. + +That night the crowd that gathered in the Coliseum to see the new +play, went away angry and disappointed; for Clarissa Lambert was not +acting. Another actress took her part--but how differently! And all +the while she, for whose sake they had come, was on her knees +wrestling with a grimmer tragedy than "Francesca," with no other +audience than the angels of pity. + +Twenty-four hours had passed, and found me hastening towards Old +Kensington; for in my pocket lay a note bearing only the words +"Come at 3.30--Claire," and on my heart rested a load of suspense +unbearable. For many minutes beforehand, I paced up and down outside +the house in an agony, and as my watch pointed to the half-hour, +knocked and was admitted. + +Mrs. Luttrell met me in the passage. She seemed most terribly white +and worn, so that I was astonished when she simply said, "Claire is +slightly unwell, and in fact could not act last night, but she wishes +to see you for some reason." + +Wondering why Claire's mother should look so strangely if she guessed +nothing of what had happened, but supposing illness to be the reason, +I stopped for an instant to ask. + +"Am I pale?" she answered. "It is nothing--nothing--do not take any +notice of it. I am rather weaker than usual to-day, that is all--a +mere nothing. You will find Claire in the drawing-room there." +And so she left me. + +I knocked at the drawing-room door, and hearing a faint voice inside, +entered. As I did so, Claire rose to meet me. She was very pale, +and the dark circles around her eyes told of a long vigil; but her +manner at first was composed and even cold. + +"Claire!" I cried, and stretched out my hands. + +"Not yet," she said, and motioned me to a chair. "I sent for you +because I have been thinking of--of--what happened yesterday, and I +want you to tell me all; the whole story from beginning to end." + +"But--" + +"There is no 'but' in the case, Jasper. I am Janet Railton, and you +say that my father killed yours. Tell me how it was." + +Her manner was so calm that I hesitated at first, bewildered. +Then, finding that she waited for me to speak, I sat down facing her +and began my story. + +I told it through, without suppression or concealment, from the time +when my father started to seek the treasure, down to the cowardly +blow that had taken my friend's life. During the whole narrative she +never took her eyes from my face for more than a moment. Her very +lips were bloodless, but her manner was as quiet as though I were +reading her some story of people who had never lived. Once only she +interrupted me. I was repeating the conversation between her father +and Simon Colliver upon Dead Man's Rock. + +"You are quite sure," she asked, "of the words? You are positive he +said, 'Captain, it was your knife'?" + +"Certain," I answered sadly. + +"You are giving the very words they both used?" + +"As well as I can remember; and I have cause for a good memory." + +"Go on," she replied simply. + +So I unrolled the whole chronicle of our unhappy fates, and even read +to her Lucy Railton's letter which I had brought with me. Then, as I +ceased, for full a minute we sat in absolute silence, reading each +other's gaze. + +"Let me see the letter," she said, and held out her hand for it. + +I gave it to her. She read it slowly through and handed it back. + +"Yes, it is my mother's letter," she said, slowly. + +Then again silence fell upon us. I could hear the clock tick slowly +on the mantelpiece, and the beating of my own heart that raced and +outstripped it. That was all; until at length the slow, measured +footfall of the timepiece grew maddening to hear; it seemed a symbol +of the unrelenting doom pursuing us, and I longed to rise and break +it to atoms. + +I could stand it no longer. + +"Claire, tell me that this will not--cannot alter you--that you are +mine yet, as you were before." + +"This is impossible," she said, very gravely and quietly. + +"Impossible? Oh, no, no, do not say that! You cannot, you must not +say that!" + +"Yes, Jasper," she repeated, and her face was pallid as snow; "it is +impossible." + +But as I heard my doom, I arose and fought it with blind despair. + +"Claire, you do not know what you are saying. You love me, Claire; +you have told me so, and I love you as my very soul. Surely, then, +you will not say this thing. How were we to know? How could you +have told? Oh, Claire! is it that you do not love me?" + +Her eyes were full of infinite compassion and tenderness, but her +lips were firm and cold. + +"You know that I love you." + +"Then, oh, my love! how can this come between us? What does it +matter that our fathers fought and killed each other, if only we +love? Surely, surely Heaven cannot fix the seal of this crime upon +us for ever? Speak, Claire, and tell me that you will be mine in +spite of all!" + +"It cannot be," she answered, very gently. + +"Cannot be!" I echoed. "Then I was right, and you do not love, but +fancied that you did for a while. Love, love, was that fair? +No power on earth--no, nor in heaven--should have made me cast you +off so." + +My rage died out before the mute reproach of those lovely eyes. +I caught the white hand. + +"Forgive me, Claire; I was desperate, and knew not what I was saying. +I know you love me--you have said so, and you are truth itself; truth +and all goodness. But if you have loved, then you can love me still. +Remember our text, Claire, 'Love is strong as death.' Strong as +death, and can it be overcome so easily?" + +She was trembling terribly, and from the little hand within mine I +could feel her agitation. But though the soft eyes spoke appealingly +as they were raised in answer, I could see, behind all their anguish, +an immutable resolve. + +"No, Jasper; it can never be--never. Do you think I am not +suffering--that it is nothing to me to lose you? Try to think better +of me. Oh, Jasper, it is hard indeed for me, and--I love you so." + +"No, no," she went on; "do not make the task harder for me. Why can +you not curse me? It would be easier then. Why can you not hate me +as you ought? Oh, if you would but strike me and go, I could better +bear this hour!" + +There was such abandonment of entreaty in her tones that my heart +bled for her; yet I could only answer-- + +"Claire, I will not give you up; not though you went on your knees +and implored it. Death alone can divide us now; and even death will +never kill my love." + +"Death!" she answered. "Think, then, that I am dead; think of me as +under the mould. Ah, love, hearts do not break so easily. You would +grieve at first, but in a little while I should be forgotten." + +"Claire!" + +"Forgive me, love; not forgotten. I wronged you when I said the +word. Believe me, Jasper, that if there be any gleam of day in the +blackness that surrounds me it is the thought that you so love me; +and yet it would have been far easier otherwise--far easier." + +Little by little my hope was slipping from me; but still I strove +with her as a man battles for his life. I raved, protested, called +earth and heaven to witness her cruelty; but all in vain. + +"It would be a sin--a horrible sin!" she kept saying. "God would +never forgive it. No, no; do not try to persuade me--it is +horrible!" and she shuddered. + +Utterly beaten at last by her obstinacy, I said-- + +"I will leave you now to think it over. Let me call again and hear +that you repent." + +"No, love; we must never meet again. This must be our last good-bye. +Stay!" and she smiled for the first time since that meeting in the +cemetery. "Come to 'Francesca' to-night; I am going to act." + +"What! to-night?" + +"Yes. One must live, you see, even though one suffers. See, I have +a ticket for you--for a box. You will come? Promise me." + +"Never, Claire." + +"Yes, promise me. Do me this last favour; I shall never ask +another." + +I took the card in silence. + +"And now," she said, "you may kiss me. Kiss me on the lips for the +last time, and may God bless you, my love." + +Quite calmly and gently she lifted her lips to mine, and on her face +was the glory of unutterable tenderness. + +"Claire! My love, my love!" My arms were round her, her whole form +yielded helplessly to mine, and as our lips met in that one +passionate, shuddering caress, sank on my breast. + +"You will not leave me?" I cried. + +And through her sobs came the answer-- + +"Yes, yes; it must be, it must be." + +Then drawing herself up, she held out her hand and said-- + +"To-night, remember, and so--farewell." + +And so, in the fading light of that grey December afternoon I left +her standing there. + + +Mad and distraught with the passion of that parting, I sat that +evening in the shadow of my box and waited for the curtain to rise +upon "Francesca." The Coliseum was crowded to the roof, for it was +known that Clarissa Lambert's illness had been merely a slight +indisposition, and to-night she would again be acting. I was too +busy with my own hard thoughts to pay much attention at first, but I +noticed that my box was the one nearest to the stage, in the tier +next above it. So that once more I should hear my darling's voice, +and see her form close to me. Once or twice I vaguely scanned the +audience. The boxes opposite were full; but, of course, I could see +nothing of my own side of the theatre. After a moment's listless +glance, I leaned back in the shadow and waited. + +I do not know who composed the overture. It is haunted by one +exquisite air, repeated, fading into variations, then rising once +more only to sink into the tender sorrow of a minor key. I have +heard it but twice in my life, but the music of it is with me to this +day. Then, as I heard it, it carried me back to the hour when Tom +and I sat expectant in this same theatre, he trembling for his play's +success, I for the sight of my love. Poor Tom! The sad melody +wailed upwards as though it were the voice of the wind playing about +his grave, every note breathing pathos or suspiring in tremulous +anguish. Poor Tom! Yet your love was happier than mine; better to +die with Claire's kiss warm upon the lips than to live with but the +memory of it. + +The throbbing music had ended, and the play began. As before, the +audience were without enthusiasm at first, but to-night they knew +they had but to wait, and they did so patiently; so that when at last +Claire's voice died softly away at the close of her opening song, the +hushed house was suddenly shaken to its roof with the storm and +tumult of applause. + +There she stood, serene and glowing, as one that had never known +pain. My very eyes doubted. On her face was no sign of suffering, +no trace of a tear. Was she, then, utterly without heart? In my +memory I retraced the scene of that afternoon, and all my reason +acquitted her. Yet, as she stood there in her glorious epiphany, +illumined with the blazing lights, and radiant in the joy and +freshness of youth, I could have doubted whether, after all, Clarissa +Lambert and Claire Luttrell were one and the same. + +There was one thing which I did not fail, however, to note as +strange. She did not once glance in the direction of my box, but +kept her eyes steadily averted. And it then suddenly dawned upon me +that she must be playing with a purpose; but what that purpose was I +could not guess. + +Whatever it was, she was acting magnificently and had for the present +completely surrendered herself to her art. Grand as that art had +been on the first night of "Francesca," the power of that performance +was utterly eclipsed to-night. Once between the acts I heard two +voices in the passage outside my box-- + +"What do you think of it?" said the first. + +"What can I?" answered the other. "And how can I tell you? It is +altogether above words." + +He was right. It was not so much admiration as awe and worship that +held the house that night. I have heard a man say since that he +wonders how the play could ever have raised anything beyond a laugh. +He should have heard the sobs that every now and then would break +uncontrollably forth, even whilst Claire was speaking. He should +have felt the hush that followed every scene before the audience +could recollect itself and pay its thunderous tribute. + +Still she never looked towards me, though all the while my eyes were +following my lost love. Her purpose--and somehow in my heart I grew +more and more convinced that some purpose lay beneath this +transcendent display--was waiting for its accomplishment, and in the +ringing triumph of her voice I felt it coming nearer--nearer--until +at last it came. + +The tragedy was nearly over. Francesca had dismissed her old lover +and his new bride from their captivity and was now left alone upon +the stage. The last expectant hush had fallen upon the house. +Then she stepped slowly forward in the dead silence, and as she spoke +the opening lines, for the first time our eyes met. + + "Here then all ends:--all love, all hate, all vows, + All vain reproaches. Aye, 'tis better so. + So shall he best forgive and I forget, + Who else had chained him to a life-long curse, + Who else had sought forgiveness, given in vain + While life remained that made forgiveness dear. + Far better to release him--loving more + Now love denies its love and he is free, + Than should it by enjoyment wreck his joy. + Blighting his life for whom alone I lived. + + "No, no. As God is just, it could not be. + Yet, oh, my love, be happy in the days + I may not share, with her whose present lips + Usurp the rights of my lost sovranty. + I would not have thee think--save now and then + As in a dream that is not all a dream-- + On her whose love was sunshine for an hour, + Then died or e'er its beams could blast thy life. + Be happy and forget what might have been, + Forget my dear embraces in her arms, + My lips in hers, my children in her sons, + While I-- + Dear love, it is not hard to die + Now once the path is plain. See, I accept + And step as gladly to the sacrifice + As any maid upon her bridal morn-- + One little stroke--one tiny touch of pain + And I am quit of pain for evermore. + It needs no bravery. Wert thou here to see, + I would not have thee weep, but look--one stroke, + And thus--" + +What was that shriek far back there in the house? What was that at +sight of which the audience rose white and aghast from their seats? +What was it that made Sebastian as he entered rush suddenly forward +and fall with awful cry before Francesca's body? What was that +trickling down the folds of her white dress? Blood? + +Yes, blood! In an instant I put my hand upon the cushion of the box, +vaulted down to the stage and was kneeling beside my dying love. +But as the clamorous bell rang down the curtain, I heard above its +noise a light and silvery laugh, and looking up saw in the box next +to mine the coal-black devilish eyes of the yellow woman. + +Then the curtain fell. + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +TELLS HOW TWO VOICES LED ME TO BOARD A SCHOONER; AND WHAT BEFELL +THERE. + +She died without speech. Only, as I knelt beside her and strove to +staunch that cruel stream of blood, her beautiful eyes sought mine in +utter love and, as the last agony shook her frame, strove to rend the +filmy veil of death and speak to me still. Then, with one long, +contented sigh, my love was dead. It was scarcely a minute before +all was over. I pressed one last kiss upon the yet warm lips, +tenderly drew her white mantle across the pallid face, and staggered +from the theatre. + +I had not raved or protested as I had done that same afternoon. +Fate had no power to make me feel now; the point of anguish was +passed, and in its place succeeded a numb stupidity more terrible by +far, though far more blessed. + +My love was dead. Then I was dead for any sensibility to suffering +that I possessed. Hatless and cloak-less I stepped out into the +freezing night air, and regardless of the curious looks of the +passing throng I turned and walked rapidly westward up the Strand. +There was a large and eager crowd outside the Coliseum, for already +the news was spreading; but something in my face made them give room, +and I passed through them as a man in a trance. + +The white orb of the moon was high in heaven; the frozen pavement +sounded hollow under-foot; the long street stood out, for all its +yellow gas-light, white and distinct against the clear air; but I +marked nothing of this. I went westward because my home lay +westward, and some instinct took my hurrying feet thither. I had no +purpose, no sensation. For aught I knew, that night London might +have been a city of the dead. + +Suddenly I halted beneath a lamp-post and began dimly to think. +My love was dead:--that was the one fact that filled my thoughts at +first, and so I strove to image it upon my brain, but could not. +But as I stood there feebly struggling with the thought another took +its place. Why should I live? Of course not; better end it all at +once--and possessed with this idea I started off once more. + +By degrees, as I walked, a plan shaped itself before me. I would go +home, get my grandfather's key, together with the tin box containing +my father's Journal, and then make for the river. That would be an +easy death, and I could sink for ever, before I perished, all trace +of the black secret which had pursued my life. I and the mystery +would end together--so best. Then, without pain, almost with ghastly +merriment, I thought that this was the same river which had murmured +so sweetly to my love. Well, no doubt its voice would be just as +musical over my grave. The same river:--but nearer the sea now-- +nearer the infinite sea. + +As I reflected, the idea took yet stronger possession of me. Yes, it +was in all respects the best. The curse should end now. "Even as +the Heart of the Ruby is Blood and its Eyes a Flaming Fire, so shall +it be for them that would possess it: Fire shall be their portion and +Blood their inheritance for ever." For ever? No: the river should +wash the blood away and quench the fire. Then arose another text and +hammered at the door of my remembrance. "Many waters cannot quench +love, neither can the floods drown it." "Many waters"--"many +waters":--the words whispered appealingly, invitingly, in my ears. +"Many waters." My feet beat a tune to the words. + +I reached my lodgings, ran upstairs, took out the key and the tin +box, and descended again into the hall. My landlord was slipping +down the latch. He stared at seeing me. + +"Do not latch the door just yet: I am going out again," I said +simply. + +"Going out! I thought, sir, it was you as just now come in." + +"Yes, but I must go out again:--it is important." + +He evidently thought me mad; and so indeed I was. + +"What, sir, in that dress? You've got no hat--no--" + +I had forgotten. "True," I said; "get me a hat and coat." + +He stared and then ran upstairs for them. Returning he said, "I have +got you these, sir; but I can't find them as you usually wears." + +"Those will do," I answered. "I must have left the others at the +theatre." + +This reduced him to utter speechlessness. Mutely he helped me to don +the cloak over my thin evening dress. I slipped the tin box and the +key into the pockets. As I stepped out once more into the night, my +landlord found his speech. + +"When will you be back, sir?" + +The question startled me for a moment; for a second or two I +hesitated. + +"I asked because you have no latch-key, as I suppose you left it in +your other coat. So that--" + +"It does not matter," I answered. "Do not sit up. I shall not be +back before morning;" and with that I left him still standing at the +door, and listening to my footsteps as they hurried down the street. + +"Before morning!" Before morning I should be in another world, if +there were another world. And then it struck me that Claire and I +might meet. She had taken her own life and so should I. But no, +no--Heaven would forgive her that; it could not condemn my saint to +the pit where I should lie: it could not be so kindly cruel; and then +I laughed a loud and bitter laugh. + +Still in my dull stupor I found myself nearing the river. I have not +mentioned it before, but I must explain now, that during the summer I +had purchased a boat, in which my Claire and I were used to row idly +between Streatley and Pangbourne, or whithersoever love guided our +oars. This boat, with the approach of winter, I had caused to be +brought down the river and had housed in a waterman's shed just above +Westminster, until the return of spring should bring back once more +the happy days of its employment. + +In my heart I blessed the chance that had stored it ready to my hand. + +Stumbling through dark and tortuous streets where the moon's frosty +brilliance was almost completely hidden, I came at last to the +waterman's door and knocked. He was in bed and for some time my +summons was in vain. At last I heard a sound in the room above, the +window was let down and a sulky voice said, "Who's there?" + +"Is that you, Bagnell?" I answered. "Come down. It is I, Mr. +Trenoweth, and I want you." + +There was a low cursing, a long pause broken by a muttered dispute +upstairs, and then the street door opened and Bagnell appeared with a +lantern. + +"Bagnell, I want my boat." + +"To-night, sir? And at this hour?" + +"Yes, to-night. I want it particularly." + +"But it is put away behind a dozen others, and can't be got." + +"Never mind. I will help if you want assistance, but I must have +it." + +Bagnell looked at me for a minute and I could see that he was cursing +under his breath. + +"Is it serious, sir? You're not--" + +"I am not drunk, if that is what you mean, but perfectly serious, and +I must have my boat." + +"Won't another do as well?" + +"No, it will not." I felt in my pockets and found two sovereigns and +a few shillings. "Look here," I said, "I will give you two pounds if +you get this boat out for me." + +This conquered his reluctance. He stared for a moment as I mentioned +the amount, and then hastily deciding that I was stark mad, but that +it was none of his business, put on his hat and led the way down to +his boat-yard. + +Stumbling in the uncertain light over innumerable timbers, spars, and +old oars, we reached the shed at length and together managed, after +much delay, to get out the light boat and let her down to the water. +I gave him the two sovereigns as well as the few shillings that +remained in my pocket, and as I descended, reflected grimly that +after all they were better in his possession; the man who should find +my body would have so much the less spoil. We had scarcely spoken +whilst we were getting the boat out, and what words we used were +uttered in that whisper which night always enforces; but as I +clambered down (for the tide was now far out) and Bagnell passed down +the sculls, he asked-- + +"When will you be back, sir?" + +The same question! I gave it the same answer. "Not before morning," +I said, and with a few strokes was out upon the tide and pulling down +the river. I saw him standing there above in the moonlight, still +wondering, until he faded in the dim haze behind. My boat was a +light Thames dingey, so that although I felt the tide running up +against me, it nevertheless made fair progress. What decided me to +pull against the tide rather than float quietly upwards I do not know +to this day. So deadened and vague was all my thought, that it +probably never occurred to me to correct the direction in which the +first few strokes had taken me. I was conscious of nothing but a row +of lights gliding past me on either hand, of here and there a tower +or tall building, that stood up for an instant against the sky and +then swam slowly out of sight, of the creaking of my sculls in the +ungreased rowlocks, and, above all, the white shimmer of the moon +following my boat as it swung downwards. + +I remember now that, in a childish way, I tried to escape this +persistent brilliance that still clung to my boat's side with every +stroke I took; that somehow a dull triumph possessed me when for a +moment I slipped beneath the shadow of a bridge, or crept behind a +black and silent hull. All this I can recall now, and wonder at the +trivial nature of the thought. Then I caught the scent of white +rose, and fell to wondering how it came there. There had been the +same scent in the drawing-room that afternoon, I remembered, when +Claire had said good-bye for ever. How had it followed me? +After this I set myself aimlessly to count the lights that passed, +lost count, and began again. And all the time the white glimmer hung +at my side. + +I was still wrapped up in my cloak, though the cape was flung back to +give my arms free play. Rowing so, I must quickly have been warm; +but I felt it no more than I had felt the cold as I walked home from +the theatre. My boat was creeping along the Middlesex shore, by the +old Temple stairs, and presently threaded its way through more +crowded channels, and passed under the blackness of London Bridge. + +How far below this I went, I cannot clearly call to mind; of +distance, as well as of time, I had lost all calculation. +I recollect making a circuit to avoid the press of boats waiting for +the early dawn by Billingsgate Market, and have a vision of the White +Tower against the heavens. But my next impression of any clearness +is that of rowing under the shadow of a black three-masted schooner +that lay close under shore, tilted over on her port side in the low +water. As my dingey floated out again from beneath the overhanging +hull, I looked up and saw the words, _Water-Witch_, painted in white +upon her pitch-dark bows. + +By this time I was among the tiers of shipping. I looked back over +my shoulder, and saw their countless masts looming up as far as eye +could see in the dim light, and their lamps flickering and wavering +upon the water. I rowed about a score of strokes, and then stopped. +Why go further? This place would serve as well as any other. No one +was likely to hear my splash as I went overboard, and even if heard +it would not be interpreted. I was still near enough to the +Middlesex bank to be out of the broad moonlight that lit up the +middle of the river. I took the tin box out of my cloak and stowed +it for a moment in the stern. I would sink it with the key before I +flung myself in. So, pulling the key out of the other pocket, I took +off the cloak, then my dress-coat and waistcoat, folded them +carefully, and placed them on the stern seat. This done, I slipped +the key into one pocket of my trousers, my watch and chain into the +other. I would do all quietly and in order, I reflected. I was +silently kicking off my shoes, when a thought struck me. In my last +struggles it was possible that the desire of life would master me, +and almost unconsciously I might take to swimming. In the old days +at Lizard Town swimming had been as natural to me as walking, and I +had no doubt that as soon as in the water I should begin to strike +out. Could I count upon determination enough to withhold my arms and +let myself slowly drown? + +Here was a difficulty; but I resolved to make everything sure. +I took my handkerchief out of the coat pocket, and bent down to tie +my feet firmly together. All this I did quite calmly and +mechanically. As far as one can be certain of anything at this +distance of time, I am certain of this, that no thought of hesitation +came into my head. It was not that I overcame any doubts; they never +occurred to me. + +I was stooping down, and had already bound the handkerchief once +around my ankles, when my boat grated softly against something. +I looked up, and saw once more above me a dark ship's hull, and right +above my head the white letters, _Water-Witch_. + +This would never do. My boat had drifted up the river again with the +tide, stern foremost, but a little aslant, and had run against the +warp by the schooner's bows. I must pull out again, for otherwise +the people on board would hear me. I pushed gently off from the warp +and took the sculls, when suddenly I heard voices back towards the +stern. + +My first impulse was to get away with all speed, and I had already +taken half a stroke, when something caused my hands to drop and my +heart to give one wild leap. + +What was it? Something in the voices? Yes; something that brushed +my stupor from me as though it were a cobweb; something that made me +hush my breath, and strain with all my ears to listen. + +The two voices were those of man and woman, They were slightly +raised, as if in a quarrel; the woman's pleading and entreating, the +man's threatening and stern. But that was not the reason that +suddenly set my heart uncontrollably beating and all the blood +rushing and surging to my temples. + +For in those two voices I recognised Mrs. Luttrell and Simon +Colliver! + +"Have you not done enough?" the woman's voice was saying. "Has your +cruelty no end, that you must pursue me so? Take this money, and let +me go." + +"I must have more," was the answer. + +"Indeed, I have no more just now. Go, only go, and I will send you +some. I swear it." + +"I cannot go," said the man. + +"Why?" + +"Never mind. I am watched." Here the voice muttered some words +which I could not catch. "So that unless you wish to see your +husband swing--and believe me, my confession and last dying speech +would not omit to mention the kind aid I had received from you and +Clar-" + +"Hush! oh, hush! If I get you this money, will you leave us in peace +for a time? Knowing your nature, I will not ask for pity--only for a +short respite. I must tell Claire, poor girl; she does not know +yet--" + +Quite softly my boat had drifted once more across the schooner's +bows. I pulled it round until its nose touched the anchor chain, and +made the painter fast. Then slipping my hand up the chain, I stood +with my shoeless feet upon the gunwale by the bows. Still grasping +the chain, I sprang and swung myself out to the jib-boom that, with +the cant of the vessel, was not far above the water: then pressed my +left foot in between the stay and the brace, while I hung for a +moment to listen. + +They had not heard, for I could still catch the murmur of their +voices. The creak of the jib-boom and the swish of my own boat +beneath had frightened me at first. It seemed impossible that it +should not disturb them. But after a moment my courage returned, and +I pulled myself up on to the bowsprit, and lying almost at full +length along it, for fear of being spied, crawled slowly along, and +dropped noiselessly on to the deck. + +They were standing together by the mizzen-mast, he with his back +turned full towards me, she less entirely averted, so that I could +see a part of her face in the moonlight, and the silvery gleam of her +grey hair. Yes, it was they, surely enough; and they had not seen +me. My revenge, long waited for, was in my grasp at last. + +Suddenly, as I stood there watching them, I remembered my knife--the +blade which had slain my father. I had left it below--fool that I +was!--in the tin box. Could I creep back again, and return without +attracting their attention? Should I hazard the attempt for the sake +of planting that piece of steel in Simon Colliver's black heart? + +It was a foolish thought, but my whole soul was set upon murder now, +and the chance of slaying him with the very knife left in my father's +wound seemed too dear to be lightly given up. Most likely he was +armed now, whilst I had no weapon but the naked hand. Yet I did not +think of this. It never even occurred to me that he would defend +himself. Still, the thought of that knife was sweet to me as I +crouched there beneath the shadow of the bulwarks. Should I go, or +not? I paused for a moment, undecided; then rose slowly erect. + +As I did so Mrs. Luttrell turned for an instant and saw me. + +As I stood there, bareheaded, with the moonlight shining full upon my +white shirt-sleeves, I must have seemed a very ghost; for a look of +abject terror swept across her face; her voice broke off and both her +hands were flung up for mercy-- + +"Oh, God! Look! look!" + +As I rushed forward he turned, and then, with the spring of a wild +cat, was upon me. Even as he leapt, my foot slipped upon the greasy +deck; I staggered backward one step--two steps--and then fell with a +crash down the unguarded forecastle ladder. + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +TELLS IN WHAT MANNER I LEARNT THE SECRET OF THE GREAT KEY. + +As my senses came gradually back I could distinguish a narrow, dingy +cabin, dimly lit by one flickering oil-lamp which swung from a rafter +above. Its faint ray just revealed the furniture of the room, which +consisted of a seaman's chest standing in the middle, and two gaunt +stools. On one of these I was seated, propped against the cabin +wall, or rather partition, and as I attempted to move I learnt that I +was bound hand and foot. + +On the other stool opposite me and beside the chest, sat Simon +Colliver, silently eyeing me. The lamplight as it flared and +wavered cast grotesque and dancing shadows of the man upon the wall +behind, made of his matted hair black eaves under which his eyes +gleamed red as fire, and glinted lastly upon something bright lying +on the chest before him. + +For a minute or so after my eyes first opened no word was said. +Still dizzy with my fall, I stared for a moment at the man, then at +the chest, and saw that the bright objects gleaming there were my +grandfather's key and my watch-chain, at the end of which hung the +Golden Clasp. But now the clasp was fitted to its fellow and the +whole buckle lay united upon the board. + +Though the bonds around my arms, wrists, and ankles caused me +intolerable pain, yet my first feeling was rather of abject +humiliation. To be caught thus easily, to be lying here like any +rat in a gin! this was the agonising thought. Nor was this all. +There on the chest lay the Golden Clasp united at last--the work +completed which was begun with that unholy massacre on board the +_Belle Fortune_. I had played straight into Colliver's hand. + +He was in no hurry, but sat and watched me there with those +intolerably evil eyes. His left hand was thrust carelessly into his +pocket, and as he tilted back upon the stool and surveyed me, his +right was playing with the clasp upon the chest. As I painfully +turned my head a drop of blood came trickling down into my eyes from +a cut in my forehead; I saw, however, that the door was bolted. +An empty bottle and a plate of broken victuals lay carelessly thrust +in a corner, and a villainous smell from the lamp filled the whole +room and almost choked me; but the only sound in the dead stillness +of the place was the monotonous tick-tick of my watch as it lay upon +the chest. + +How long I had lain there I could not guess, but I noticed that the +floor slanted much less than when I first scrambled on deck, so +guessed that the tide must have risen considerably. Then having +exhausted my wonder I looked again at Colliver, and began to +speculate how he would kill me and how long he would take about it. + +I found his wolfish eyes still regarding me, and for a minute or two +we studied each other in silence. Then without removing his gaze he +tilted his stool forward, slowly drew a short heavy knife from his +waist-band, slipped it out of its sheath--still without taking his +left hand from his pocket--laid it on the table and leant back again. + +"I suppose," he said at last and very deliberately as if chewing his +words, "you know that if you attempt to cry out or summon help, you +are a dead man that instant." + +"Well, well," he continued, after waiting a moment for my reply, +"as long as you understand that, it does not matter. I confess I +should have preferred to talk with you and not merely to you. +However, before I kill you--and I suppose you guess that I am going +to kill you as soon as I've done with you--I wish to have just a +word, Master Jasper Trenoweth." + +From the tone in which he said the words he might have been +congratulating me on some great good fortune. He paused awhile as if +to allow the full force of them to sink in, and then took up the +Golden Clasp. Holding the pieces together with the fore-finger and +thumb of his right hand, he advanced and thrust it right under my +sight-- + +"Do you see that? Can you read it?" + +As I was still mute he walked back to the chest and laid the clasp +down again. + +"Aha!" he exclaimed with a short laugh horrible to hear, "you won't +speak. But there have been times, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth, when you +would have given your soul to lay hands upon this piece of gold and +read what is written upon it. It is a pity your hands are tied--a +thousand pities. But I do not wish to be hard on you, and so I don't +mind reading out what is written here. The secret will be safe with +you, don't you see? Quite--safe--with--you." + +He rolled out these last words, one by one, with infinite relish; and +the mockery in the depths of those eyes seared me far more than my +bonds. After watching the effect of his taunt he resumed his seat +upon the stool, pulled the clasp towards him and said-- + +"People might call me rash for entrusting these confidences to you. +But I do not mind admitting that I owe you some reparation--some +anterior reparation. So, as I don't wish you to die cursing me, I +will be generous. Listen!" + +He held the buckle down upon the table and read out the inscription +as follows:-- + + + START AT FULL MOON END SOUTH. + + POINT 27 FEET N.N.W. 22 FEET. + + W. OF RING NORTH SIDE 4. + + FEET 6 INCHES DEEP AT POINT. + + OF MEETING LOW WATER 1.5 HOURS. + +He read it through twice very slowly, and each time as he ceased +looked up to see how I took it. + +"It does not seem to make much sense, does it?" he asked. "But wait +a moment and let me parcel it out into sentences. I should not like +you to miss any of its meaning. Listen again." He divided the +writing up thus:-- + + "Start at full moon. + End South Point 27 feet N.N.W. + 22 feet W. of Ring. North Side. + 4 feet 6 inches deep at point of meeting. + Low water 1.5 hours." + +"You still seem puzzled, Mr. Trenoweth. Very well, I will even go on +to explain further. The person who engraved this clasp meant to tell +us that something--let us say treasure, for sake of argument--could +be found by anyone who drew two lines from some place unknown: one 27 +feet in length in direction N.N.W. from the South Point of that +place; the other 22 feet due West of a certain Ring on the North +side of that same place. So far I trust I make my meaning clear. +That which we have agreed to call the treasure lies buried at a depth +of 4 feet 6 inches on the spot where these two lines intersect. +But the person (you or I, for the sake of argument) who seeks this +treasure must start at full moon. Why? Obviously because the spring +tides occur with a full moon, consequently the low ebb. We must +expect, then, to find our treasure buried in a spot which is only +uncovered at dead low water; and to this conclusion I am also helped +by the last sentence, which says, 'Low water 1.5 hours.' It is then, +I submit, Mr. Trenoweth, in some such place that we must look for our +treasure; the only question being, 'Where is that place?'" + +I was waiting for this, and a great tide of joy swept over me as I +reflected that after all he had not solved the mystery. The clasp +told nothing, the key told nothing. The secret was safe as yet. + +He must have read my thoughts, for he looked steadily at me out of +those dark eyes of his, and then said very slowly and deliberately-- + +"Mr. Trenoweth, it grieves me to taunt your miserable case; but do +you mind my saying that you are a fool?" + +I simply stared in answer. + +"Your father was a fool--a pitiful fool; and you are a fool. +Which would lead me, did I not know better, to believe that your +grandfather, Amos Trenoweth, was a fool also. I should wrong him if +I called him that. He was a villain, a black-hearted, murderous, +cold-blooded, damnable villain; but he was only a fool for once in +his life, and that was when he trusted in the sense of his +descendants." + +His voice, as he spoke of my grandfather, grew suddenly shrill and +discordant, while his eyes blazed up in furious wrath. In a second +or two, however, he calmed himself again and went on quietly as +before. + +"You wonder, perhaps, why I call you a fool. It is because you have +lived for fourteen years with your hand upon riches that would make a +king jealous, and have never had the sense to grasp them; it is +because you have shut your eyes when you might have seen, have been a +beggar when you might have ridden in a carriage. Upon my word, Mr. +Jasper Trenoweth, when I think of your folly I have half a mind to be +dog-sick with you myself." + +What could the man mean? What was this clue which I had never found? + +"And all the time it was written upon this key here, as large as +life; not only that, but, to leave you no excuse, Amos Trenoweth +actually told you that it was written here." + +"What do you mean?" stammered I, forced into speech at last. + +"Ah! so you have found your voice, have you? What do I mean? Do you +mean to say you do not guess even now? Upon my word, I am loth to +kill so fair a fool." He regarded me for a moment with pitying +contempt, then stretched out his hand and took up my grandfather's +key. + +"I read here," he said, "written very clearly and distinctly, certain +words. You must know those words; but I will repeat them to you to +refresh your memory:--" + + "THY HOUSE IS SET UPON THE SANDS. AND THY HOPES BY A DEAD MAN." + +"Well?" I asked, for--fool that I was--even yet I did not understand. + +"Mr. Jasper Trenoweth, did you ever hear tell of such a place as Dead +Man's Rock?" + +The truth, the whole horrible certainty of it, struck me as one great +wave, and rushed over my bent head as with the whirl and roar of many +waters. "Dead Man's Rock!" "Dead Man's Rock!" it sang in my ears as +it swept me off my feet for a moment and passed, leaving me to sink +and battle in the gulf of bottomless despair. And then, as if I +really drowned, my past life with all its follies, mistakes, wrecked +hopes and baseless dreams, shot swiftly past in one long train. +Again I saw my mother's patient, anxious smile, my father's drowned +face with the salt drops trickling from his golden hair, the struggle +on the rock, the inquest, the awful face at the window, the corpses +of my parents stretched side by side upon the bed, the scene in the +gambling-hell with all its white and desperate faces, Claire, my lost +love, the river, the theatre, Tom's death, and that last dreadful +scene, Francesca with the dark blood soaking her white dress and +trickling down upon the boards. I tried to put my hands before my +eyes, but the cords held and cut my arms like burning steel. Then in +a flash I seemed to be striding madly up and down Oxford Street, +while still in front of me danced and flew the yellow woman, her +every diamond flashing in the gas-light, her cold black eyes, as they +turned and mocked me, blazing marsh-lights of doom. Then came the +ringing of many bells in my ears, mingled with silvery laughter, as +though the fiends were ringing jubilant peals within the pit. + +Presently the sights grew dim and died away, but the chiming laughter +still continued. + +I looked up. It was Colliver laughing, and his face was that of an +arch-devil. + +"It does me good to see you," he explained; "oh, yes, it is honey to +my soul. Fool! and a thousand times fool! that ever I should have +lived to triumph thus over you and your accursed house!" + +Once more his voice grew shrill and his eyes flashed; once more he +collected himself. + +"You shall hear it out," he said. "Look here!" and he pulled a +greasy book from his pocket. "Here is a nautical almanack. What day +is it? December 23rd, or rather some time in the morning of December +24th, Christmas Eve. On the evening of December 24th it is full +moon, and dead low water at Falmouth about 11.30 p.m. Fate (do you +believe in fate, Mr. Trenoweth?) could not have chosen the time +better. In something under twenty hours one of us will have his +hands upon the treasure. Which will it be, eh? Which will it be?" + +Well I knew which it would be, and the knowledge was bitter as gall. + +"A merry Christmas, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth! Peace on earth and +good-will--You will bear no malice by that time. So a merry +Christmas, and a merry Christmas-box! likewise the compliments of the +season, and a happy New Year to you! Where are you going to spend +Christmas, Mr. Trenoweth--eh? I am thinking of passing it by the +sea. You will, perhaps, try the sea too, only you will be _in_ it. +Thames runs swiftly when it has a corpse for cargo. Oho! + + "At his red, red lips the merrymaid sips + For the kiss that his sweetheart stole, my lads-- + Sing ho! for the bell shall toll! + +"I'm afraid no bell will toll for you, Mr. Trenoweth; not yet awhile +at any rate. Not till your sweetheart is weary of waiting-- + + "And the devil has got his due, my lads-- + Sing ho! but he waits for you! + +"Both waiting for you, Mr. Trenoweth, your sweetheart and the devil-- +which shall have you? 'Ladies first,' you would say. Aha! I am not +so sure. By the way, might I give a guess at your sweetheart's name? +Might it begin with a C? Might she be a famous actress? Claire +perhaps she calls herself? Aha! Claire's pretty eyes will go red +with watching before she sets them on you again. Fie on you to keep +so sweet a maiden waiting! And where will you be all the time, Mr. +Jasper Trenoweth?" + +He stopped at last, mastered by his ferocity and almost panting. But +I, for the sound of Claire's name had maddened me, broke out in +fury-- + +"Dog and devil! I shall be lying with all the other victims of your +accursed life; dead as my father whom you foully murdered within +sight of his home; dead as those other poor creatures you slew upon +the _Belle Fortune_; dead as my mother whose pure mind fled at sight +of your infernal face, whose very life fled at sight of your +handiwork; dead as John Railton whom you stabbed to death upon--" + +"Hush, Mr. Trenoweth! As for your ravings, I love to hear them, and +could listen by the hour, did not time press. But I cannot have you +talking so loudly, you understand;" and he toyed gently with his +knife; "also remember I must be at Dead Man's Rock by half-past +eleven to-night." + +"Fiend!" I continued, "you can kill me if you like, but I will count +your crimes with my last breath. Take my life as you took my friend +Tom Loveday's life--Tom whom you knifed in the dark, mistaking him +for me. Take it as you took Claire's, if ever man--" + +"Claire--Claire dead!" He staggered back a step, and almost at the +same moment I thought I caught a sound on the other side of the +partition at my back. I listened for a moment, then concluding that +my ears had played me some trick, went on again-- + +"Yes, dead--she killed herself to-night at the theatre--stabbed +herself--oh, God! Do you think I care for your knife now? +Why, I was going to kill myself, to drown myself, at the very moment +when I heard your voice and came on board. I came to kill you. +Make the most of it--show me no mercy, for as there is a God in +heaven I would have shown you none!" + +What was that sound again on the other side of the partition? +Whatever it was, Colliver had not heard, for he was musing darkly and +looking fixedly at me. + +"No, I will show you no mercy," he answered quietly, "for I have +sworn to show no mercy to your race, and you are the last of it. +But listen, that for a few moments before you die you may shake off +your smug complacency and learn what this wealth is, and what kind of +brood you Trenoweths are. Dog! The treasure that lies by Dead Man's +Rock is treasure weighted with dead men's curses and stained with +dead men's blood--wealth won by black piracy upon the high seas--gold +for which many a poor soul walked the plank and found his end in the +deep waters. It is treasure sacked from many a gallant ship, +stripped from many a rotting corpse by that black hound your +grandfather, Amos Trenoweth. You guessed that? Let me tell you +more. + +"There is many a soul crying in heaven and hell for vengeance on your +race; but your death to-night, Jasper Trenoweth, shall be the +peculiar joy of one. You guessed that your grandfather had crimes +upon his soul; but you did not guess the blackest crime on his +account--the murder of his dearest friend. Listen. I will be brief +with you, but I cannot spare myself the joy of letting you know this +much before you die. Know then that when your grandfather was a rich +man by this friend's aid--after, with this friend's help, he had laid +hands on the secret of the Great Ruby for which for many a year he +had thirsted, in the moment of his triumph he turned and slew that +friend in order to keep the Ruby to himself. + +"That fool, your father, kept a Journal--which no doubt you have read +over and over again. Did he tell you how I caught him upon Adam's +Peak, sitting with this clasp in his hands before a hideous, graven +stone? That stone was cut in ghastly mockery of that friend's face; +the bones that lay beneath it were the bones of that friend. +There, on that very spot where I met your father face to face, did +his father, Amos Trenoweth, strike down my father Ralph Colliver. + +"Ah, light is beginning to dawn on your silly brain at last! +Yes, pretending to protect the old priest who had the Ruby, he +stabbed my father with the very knife found in your father's heart, +stabbed him before his wife's eyes on that little lawn upon the +mountain-side; and, when my helpless mother called vengeance upon +him, handed the still reeking knife to her and bade her do her worst. +Ah, but she kept that knife. Did you mark what was engraved upon the +blade? That knife had a good memory, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth. + +"Let me go on. As if that deed were not foul enough, he caused the +old priest to carve--being skilful with the chisel--that vile +distortion of his dead friend's face out of a huge boulder lying by, +and then murdered him too for the Ruby's sake, and tumbled their +bodies into the trough together. Such was Amos Trenoweth. Are you +proud of your descent? + +"I never saw my father. I was not born until three months after +this, and not until I was ten years old did my mother tell me of his +fate. + +"Your grandfather was a fool, Jasper Trenoweth, to despise her; for +she was young then and she could wait. She was beautiful then, and +Amos Trenoweth himself had loved her. What is she now? Speak, for +you have seen her." + +As he spoke I seemed to see again that yellow face, those awful, +soulless eyes, and hear her laugh as she gazed down from the box upon +my dying love. + +"Ah, beauty goes. It went for ever on that day when Amos Trenoweth +spat in her face and taunted her as she clung to the body of her +husband. Beauty goes, but revenge can wait; to-night it has come; +to-night a thousand dead men's ghosts shall be glad, and point at +your body as it goes tossing out to sea. To-night--but let me tell +the rest in a word or two, for time presses. How I was brought up, +how my mad mother--for she is mad on every point but one--trained me +to the sea, how I left it at length and became an attorney's clerk, +all this I need not dwell upon. But all this time the thought of +revenge never left me for an hour; and if it had, my mother would +have recalled it. + +"Well, we settled in Plymouth and I was bound a clerk to your +grandfather's attorney, still with the same purpose. There I learnt +of Amos Trenoweth's affairs, but only to a certain extent; for of the +wealth which he had so bloodily won I could discover nothing; and yet +I knew he possessed riches which make the heart faint even to think +upon. Yet for all I could discover, his possessions were simply +those of a struggling farmer, his business absolutely nothing. +I was almost desperate, when one day a tall, gaunt and aged man +stepped into the office, asked for my employer, and gave the name of +Amos Trenoweth. Oh, how I longed to kill him as he stood there! +And how little did he guess that the clerk of whom he took no more +notice than of a stone, would one day strike his descendants off the +face of the earth and inherit the wealth for which he had sold his +soul--the great Ruby of Ceylon! + +"My voice trembled with hate as I announced him and showed him into +the inner room. Then I closed the door and listened. He was uneasy +about his Will--the fool--and did not know that all his possessions +would necessarily become his son's. In my heart I laughed at his +ignorance; but I learnt enough--enough to wait patiently for years +and finally to track Ezekiel Trenoweth to his death. + +"It was about this time that I fell in love. In this as in +everything through life I have been cursed with the foulest luck, but +in this as in everything else my patience has won in the end. Lucy +Luttrell loved another man called Railton--John Railton. He was +another fool--you are all fools--but she married him and had a +daughter. I wonder if you can guess who that daughter was?" + +He broke off and looked at me with fiendish malice. + +"You hound!" I cried, "she was Janet Railton--Claire Luttrell; and +you murdered her father as you say Amos Trenoweth murdered yours." + +"Right," he answered coolly. "Quite right. Oh, the arts by which I +enticed that man to drink and then to crime! Even now I could sit +and laugh over them by the hour. Why, man, there was not a touch of +guile in the fellow when I took him in hand, and yet it was he that +afterwards took your father's life. He tried it once in Bombay and +bungled it sadly: he did it neatly enough, though, on the jib-boom of +the _Belle Fortune_. I lent him the knife: I would have done it +myself, but Railton was nearer; and besides it is always better to be +a witness." + +What _was_ that rustling sound behind the partition? Colliver did +not hear it, at any rate, but went on with his tale, and though his +eyes were dancing flames of hate his voice was calm now as ever. + +"I had stolen half the clasp beforehand from the cabin floor where +that stupendous idiot, Ezekiel Trenoweth, had dropped it. Railton +caught him before he dropped, but I did not know he had time to get +the box away, for just then a huge wave broke over us and before the +next we both jumped for the Rock. I thought that Railton must have +been sucked back, for I only clung on myself by the luckiest chance. +It was pitch-dark and impossible to see. I called his name, but he +either could not hear for the roar, or did not choose to answer, so +after a bit I stopped. I thought him dead, and he no doubt thought +me dead, until we met upon Dead Man's Rock. + +"Shall I finish? Oh, yes, you shall hear the whole story. After the +inquest I escaped back to Plymouth, told Lucy that her husband had +been drowned at sea, and finally persuaded her to leave Plymouth and +marry me. So I triumphed there, too: oh, yes, I have triumphed +throughout." + +"You hound!" I cried. + +He laughed a low musical laugh and went on again-- + +"Ah, yes, you are angry of course; but I let that pass. I have one +account to settle with you Trenoweths, and that is enough for me. +Three times have I had you in my power, Mr. Jasper Trenoweth--three +times or four--and let you escape. Once beneath Dead Man's Rock when +I had my fingers on your young weasand and was stopped by those +cursed fishermen. Idiots that they were, they thought the sight of +me had frightened you and made you faint. Faint! You would have +been dead in another half-minute. How I laughed in my sleeve while +that uncle of yours was trying to make me understand--me--what was my +name then?--oh, ay, Georgio Rhodojani. However, you escaped that +time: and once more you hardly guessed how near you were to death, +when I looked in at the window on the night after the inquest. +Why, in my mind I was tossing up whether or not I should murder you +and your white-faced mother. I should have done so, but thought you +might hold some knowledge of the secret after your meeting with +Railton, so that it seemed better to bide my time." + +"If it be any satisfaction to you," I interrupted, "to know that had +you killed me then you would never have laid hands on that clasp +yonder, you are welcome to it." + +"It is," he answered. "I am glad I did not kill you both: it left +your mother time to see her dead husband, and has given me the +pleasure of killing you now: the treat improves with keeping. +Well, let me go on. After that I was forced to leave the country for +some time--" + +"For another piece of villainy, which your wife discovered." + +"How do you know that? Oh, from Claire, I suppose: however, it does +not matter. When I came back I found you: found you, and struck +again. But again my cursed luck stood in my way and that damned +friend of yours knocked me senseless. Look at this mark on my +cheek." + +"Look at the clasp and you will see where your blow was struck." + +"Ah, that was it, was it?" he said, examining the clasp slowly. +"I suppose you thought it lucky at the time. So it was--for me. +For, though I made another mistake in the fog that night, I got quits +with your friend at any rate. I have chafed often enough at these +failures, but it has all come right in the end. I ought to have +killed your father upon Adam's Peak; but he was a big man, while I +had no pistol and could not afford to risk a mistake. Everything, +they say, comes to the man who can wait. Your father did not escape, +neither will you, and when I think of the joy it was to me to know +that you and Claire, of all people--" + +But I would hear no more. Mad as I was with shame and horror for my +grandfather's cruelty, I knew this man, notwithstanding his talk of +revenge, to be a vile and treacherous scoundrel. So when he spoke of +Claire I burst forth-- + +"Dog, this is enough! I have listened to your tale. But when you +talk of Claire--Claire whom you killed to-night--then, dog, I spit +upon you; kill me, and I hope the treasure may curse you as it has +cursed me; kill me; use your knife, for I _will_ shout--" + +With a dreadful snarl he was on me and smote me across the face. +Then as I continued to call and shout, struck me one fearful blow +behind the ear. I remember that the dim lamp shot out a streak of +blood-red flame, the cabin was lit for one brief instant with a flash +of fire, a thousand lights darted out, and then--then came utter +blackness--a vague sensation of being caught up and carried, of +plunging down--down-- + + + +CHAPTER XI. AND LAST. + + +TELLS HOW AT LAST I FOUND MY REVENGE AND THE GREAT RUBY. + +"Speak--speak to me! Oh, look up and tell me you are not dead!" + +Down through the misty defiles and dark gates of the Valley of the +Shadow of Death came these words faintly as though spoken far away. +So distant did they seem that my eyes opened with vague expectation +of another world; opened and then wearily closed again. + +For at first they stared into a heaven of dull grey, with but a +shadow between them and colourless space. Then they opened once +more, and the shadow caught their attention. What was it? Who was +I, and how came I to be staring upward so? I let the problem be and +fell back into the easeful lap of unconsciousness. + +Then the voice spoke again. "He is living yet," it said. "Oh, if he +would but speak!" + +This time I saw more distinctly. Two eyes were looking into mine--a +woman's eyes. Where had I seen that face before? Surely I had known +it once, in some other world. Then somehow over my weary mind stole +the knowledge that this was Mrs. Luttrell--or was it Claire? +No, Claire was dead. "Claire--dead," I seemed to repeat to myself; +but how dead or where I could not recall. "Claire--dead;" then this +must be her mother, and I, Jasper Trenoweth, was lying here with +Claire's mother bending over me. How came we so? What had happened, +that--and once more the shadow of oblivion swept down and enfolded +me. + +She was still there, kneeling beside me, chafing my hands and every +now and then speaking words of tender solicitude. How white her hair +was! It used not to be so white as this. And where was I lying? +In a boat? How my head was aching! + +Then remembrance came back. Strange to tell, it began with Claire's +death in the theatre, and thence led downwards in broken and +interrupted train until Colliver's face suddenly started up before +me, and I knew all. + +I raised myself on my elbow. My brain was throbbing intolerably, and +every pulsation seemed to shoot fire into my temples. Also other +bands of fire were clasped about my arms and wrists. So acutely did +they burn that I fell back with a low moan and looked helplessly at +Mrs. Luttrell. + +Although it had been snowing, her bonnet was thrust back from her +face and hung by its ribbons which were tied beneath her chin. +The breeze was playing with her disordered hair--hair now white as +the snow-flakes upon it, though grey when last I had seen it--but it +brought no colour to her face. As she bent over me to place her +shawl beneath my head, I saw that her blue eyes were strangely bright +and prominent. + +"Thank God, you are alive! Does the bandage pain you? Can you +move?" + +I feebly put my hand up and felt a handkerchief bound round my head. + +"I was afraid--oh, so afraid!--that I had been too late. Yet God +only knows how I got down into your boat--in time--and without his +seeing me. I knew what he would do--I was listening behind the +partition all the time; but I was afraid he would kill you first." + +"Then--you heard?" + +"I heard all. Oh, if I were only a man--but can you stand? Are you +better now? For we must lose no time." + +I weakly stared at her in answer. + +"Don't you see? If you can stand and walk, as I pray you can, there +is no time to be lost. Morning is already breaking, and by this +evening you must catch him." + +"Catch him?" + +"Yes, yes. He has gone--gone to catch the first train for Cornwall, +and will be at Dead Man's Rock to-night. Quick! see if you cannot +rise." + +I sat up. The water had dripped from me, forming a great pool at our +end of the boat. In it she was kneeling, and beside her lay a heavy +knife and the cords with which Simon Colliver had bound me. + +"Yes," I said, "I will follow. When does the first train leave +Paddington?" + +"At a quarter past nine," she answered, "and it is now about +half-past five. You have time to catch it; but must disguise +yourself first. He will travel by it, there is no train before. +Come, let me row you ashore." + +With this she untied the painter, got out the sculls, sat down upon +the thwart opposite, and began to pull desperately for shore. +I wondered at her strength and skill with the oar. + +"Ah," she said, "I see at what you are wondering. Remember that I +was a sailor's wife once, and without strength how should I have +dragged you on board this boat?" + +"How did you manage it?" + +"I cannot tell. I only know that I heard a splash as I waited under +the bows there, and then began with my hands to fend the boat around +the schooner for dear life. I had to be very silent. At first I +could see nothing, for it was dark towards the shore; but I cried to +Heaven to spare you for vengeance on that man, and then I saw +something black lying across the warp, and knew it was you. I gave a +strong push, then rushed to the bows and caught you by the hair. +I got you round by the stern as gently as I could, and then pulled +you on board somehow--I cannot remember exactly how I did it." + +"Did he see you?" + +"No, for he must have gone below directly. I rowed under the shadow +of the lighter to which we were tied just now, and as I did so, +thought I heard him calling me by name. He must have forgotten me, +and then suddenly remembered that as yet I had not given him the +money. However, presently I heard him getting into his boat and +rowing ashore. He came quite close to us--so close that I could hear +him cursing, and crouched down in the shadow for fear of my life. +But he passed on, and got out at the steps yonder. It was snowing at +the time and that helped me." + +She pulled a stroke or two in silence, and then continued-- + +"When you were in the cabin together I was listening. At one point I +think I must have fainted; but it cannot have been for long, for when +I came to myself you were still talking about--about John Railton." + +I remembered the sound which I had heard, and almost in spite of +myself asked, "You heard about--" + +"Claire? Yes, I heard." She nodded simply; but her eyes sought mine, +and in them was a gleam that made me start. + +Just then the boat touched at a mouldering flight of stairs, crusted +with green ooze to high-water mark, and covered now with snow. +She made fast the boat. + +"This was the way he went," she muttered. "Track him, track him to +his death; spare him no single pang to make that death miserable!" +Her low voice positively trembled with concentrated hate. +"Stay," she said, "have you money?" + +I suddenly remembered that I had given all the money on me to Bagnell +for getting out my boat, and told her so. At the same moment, too, +I thought upon the tin box still lying under the boat's stern. +I stepped aft and pulled it out. + +"Here is money," she said; "money that I was to have given him. +Fifty pounds it is, in notes--take it all." + +"But you?" I hesitated. + +"Never mind me. Take it--take it all. What do I want with money if +only you kill him?" + +I bent and kissed her hand. + +"As Heaven is my witness," I said, "it shall be his life or mine. +The soul of one of us shall never see to-morrow." + +Her hand was as cold as ice, and her pale face never changed. + +"Kill him!" she said, simply. + +I turned, and climbed the steps. By this time day had broken, and +the east was streaked with angry flushes of crimson. The wind swept +through my dripping clothes and froze my aching limbs to the marrow. +Up the river came floating a heavy pall of fog, out of which the +masts showed like grisly skeletons. The snow-storm had not quite +ceased, and a stray flake or two came brushing across my face. +So dawned my Christmas Eve! + +As I gained the top, I turned to look down. She was still standing +there, watching me. Seeing me look, she waved her arms, and I heard +her hoarse whisper, "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" + +I left her standing so, and turned away; but in the many ghosts that +haunt my solitary days, not the least vivid is the phantom of this +white-haired woman on the black and silent river, eternally +beckoning, "Kill him!" + +I found myself in a yard strewn with timber, spars and refuse, half +hidden beneath the snow. From it a flight of rickety stone steps led +to a rotting door, and thence into the street. Here I stood for a +moment, pondering on my next step. Not a soul was abroad so early; +but I must quickly get a change of clothes somewhere; at present I +stood in my torn dress trousers and soaked shirt. I passed up the +street, my shoeless feet making the first prints in the newly-fallen +snow. The first? No; for when I looked more closely I saw other +footprints, already half obliterated, leading up the street. +These must be Simon Colliver's. I followed them for about a hundred +yards past the shuttered windows. + +Suddenly they turned into a shop door, and then seemed to leave it +again. The shop was closed, and above it hung three brass balls, +each covered now with a snowy cap. Above, the blinds were drawn +down, but on looking again, I saw a chink of light between the +shutters. I knocked. + +After a short pause, the door was opened. A red-eyed, villainous +face peered out, and seeing me, grew blank with wonder. + +"What do you want?" inquired at length the voice belonging to it. + +"To buy a fresh suit of clothes. See, I have fallen into the river." + +Muttering something beneath his breath, the pawnbroker opened his +door, and let me into the shop. + +It was a dingy nest, fitted up with the usual furniture of such a +place. The one dim candle threw a ghostly light on chairs, clocks, +compasses, trinkets, saucepans, watches, piles of china, and suits of +left-off clothes arrayed like rows of suicides along the wall. +A general air of decay hung over the den. Immediately opposite me, +as I entered, a stuffed parrot, dropping slowly into dust, glared at +me with one malevolent eye of glass, while a hideous Chinese idol, +behind the counter, poked out his tongue in a very frenzy of +malignity. But my eye wandered past these, and was fixed in a moment +upon something that glittered upon the counter. That something was +my own watch. + +Following my gaze, the man gave me a quick, suspicious glance, +hastily caught up the watch, and was bestowing it on one of his +shelves, when I said-- + +"Where did you get that?" + +"Quite innocently, sir, I swear. I bought it of a gentleman who came +in just now, and would not pawn it. I thought it was his, so that if +you belong to the Force, I hope--" + +"Gently, my friend," said I; "I am not in the police, so you need not +be in such a fright. Nevertheless, that watch is mine; I can tell +you the number, if you don't believe it." + +He pushed the watch across to me and said, still greatly frightened-- + +"I am sure you may see it, sir, with all my heart. I wouldn't for +worlds--" + +"What did you give for it?" + +He hesitated a moment, and then, as greed overmastered fear, +replied-- + +"Fifteen pounds, sir; and the man would not take a penny less. +Fifteen good pounds! I swear it, as I am alive!" + +Although I saw that the man lied, I drew out three five-pound notes, +laid them on the table, and took my watch. This done, I said-- + +"Now I want you to sell me a suit of clothes, and aid me to disguise +myself. Otherwise--" + +"Don't talk, sir, about 'otherwise.' I'm sure I shall only be too +glad to rig you out to catch the thief. You can take your pick of +the suits here; they are mostly seamen's, to be sure; but you'll find +others as well. While as for disguises, I flatter myself that for +getting up a face--" + +Here he stopped suddenly. + +"How long has he been gone?" + +"About half an hour, sir, before you came. But no doubt you know +where he'd be likely to go; and I won't be more than twenty minutes +setting you completely to rights." + +In less than half an hour afterwards, I stepped out into the street +so completely disguised that none of my friends--that is, if I had +possessed a friend in the world--would have recognised me. I had +chosen a sailor's suit, that being the character I knew myself best +able to sustain. My pale face had turned to a bronze red, while over +its smoothly-shaven surface now grew the roughest of untrimmed +beards. Snow was falling still, so that Colliver's footprints were +entirely obliterated. But I wanted them no longer. He would be at +Paddington, I knew; and accordingly I turned my feet in that +direction, and walked rapidly westward. + +My chase had begun. I had before me plenty of time in which to reach +Paddington, and the exercise of walking did me good, relaxing my +stiffened limbs until at length I scarcely felt the pain of the weals +where the cords had cut me. It was snowing persistently, but I +hardly noticed it. Through the chill and sullen morning I held +doggedly on my way, past St. Katharine's Wharf, the Tower, through +Gracechurch Street, and out into St. Paul's Churchyard. Traffic was +already beginning here, and thickened as I passed down Ludgate Hill +and climbed up to Holborn. Already the white snow was being churned +and trodden into hideous slush in which my feet slipped and stumbled. +My coat and sailor's cap were covered with powdery flakes, and I had +to hold my head down for fear lest the drifting moisture should wash +any of the colouring off my face. So my feet carried me once more +into Oxford Street. How well remembered was every house, every +lamp-post, every flag of the pavement almost! I was on my last quest +now. + +"To-night! to-night!" whispered my heart: then came back the words of +Claire's mother--"Kill him! Kill him!" and still I tramped westward, +as westward lay my revenge. + +Suddenly a hansom cab shot past me. It came up silently on the +slushy street, and it was only when it was close behind that I heard +the muffled sound of its wheels. It was early yet for cabs, so that +I turned my head at the sound. It passed in a flash, and gave me but +a glimpse of the occupant: but in that moment I had time to catch +sight of a pair of eyes, and knew now that my journey would not be in +vain. They were the eyes of Simon Colliver. + +So then in Oxford Street, after all, I had met him. He was cleverly +disguised--as I guessed, by the same hands that had painted my own +face--and looked to the casual eye but an ordinary bagman. But art +could not change those marvellous eyes, and I knew him in an instant. +My heart leapt wildly for a moment--my hands were clenched and my +teeth shut tight; but the next, I was plodding after him as before. +I could wait now. + +Before I reached Paddington I met the cab returning empty, and on +gaining the station at first saw nothing of my man. Though as yet it +was early, the platform was already crowded with holiday-makers: a +few country dames laden with countless bundles, careworn workers +preparing to spend Christmas with friends or parents in their village +home, a sprinkling of schoolboys chafing at the slowness of the +clock. After a minute or so, I spied Simon Colliver moving among +this happy and innocent crowd like an evil spirit. I flung myself +down upon a bench, and under pretence of sleeping, quietly observed +him. Once or twice, as he passed to and fro before me, he almost +brushed my knee, so close was he--so close that I had to clutch the +bench tightly for fear I should leap up and throttle him. He did not +notice me. Doubtless he thought me already tossing out to sea with +the gulls swooping over me, and the waves merrily dashing over my +dead face. The waiting game had changed hands now. + +I heard him demand a ticket for Penryn, and, after waiting until he +had left the booking office, took one myself for the same station. +I watched him as he chose his compartment, and then entered the next. +It was crowded, of course, with holiday-seekers; but the only person +that I noticed at first was the man sitting directly opposite to me-- +an honest, red-faced countryman, evidently on his way home from town, +and at present deeply occupied with a morning paper which seemed to +have a peculiar fascination for him, for as he raised his face his +round eyes were full of horror. I paid little attention to him, +however, but, having the corner seat facing the engine, watched to +see that Colliver did not change his compartment. He did not appear +again, and in a minute or two the whistle shrieked and we were off. + +At first the countryman opposite made such a prodigious to-do with +his piece of news that I could not help watching him. Then my +attention wandered from him to the country through which we were +flying. Slowly I pondered over the many events that had passed +since, not many months before, I had travelled up from Cornwall to +win my fortune. My fortune! To what had it all come? I had won a +golden month or two of love, and lo! my darling was dead. Dead also +was the friend who had travelled up with me, so full of boyish hope: +both dead; the one in the full blaze of her triumph, the other in the +first dawn of his young success: both dead--and, but for me, both +living yet and happy. + +Suddenly the countryman looked up and spoke. + +"Hav'ee seen this bit o' news? Astonishin'! And her so pretty too!" + +"What is it?" I asked vacantly. + +For answer he pushed the paper into my hands, and with his thumb-nail +pointed to a column headed "TERRIBLE TRAGEDY IN A THEATRE." + +"An' to think," he continued reflectively, "as how I saw her wi' my +own eyes but three nights back--an' actin' so pretty, too! Lord! +It made me cry like any sucking child: beautiful it was--just +beau-ti-ful! Here's a story to tell my missus!" + +I took the paper and read-- + + "TERRIBLE TRAGEDY IN A THEATRE. SUICIDE OF A FAMOUS ACTRESS.-- + Last evening, the performance of the new and popular tragedy, + _Francesca_, at the Coliseum, was interrupted by a scene + perhaps the most awful that has ever been presented to the + play-going public. A sinister fate seems to have pursued this + play from the outset. It will be within the memory of all that + its young and gifted author was, on the very night of its + production, struck down suddenly in the street by an unknown + hand which the police have not yet succeeded in tracing. + Last night's tragedy was even more terrible. Clarissa Lambert, + whose name--" + +But I wanted to read no more. To the countryman's astonishment the +paper slipped from my listless fingers, and once more my gaze turned +to the carriage window. On we tore through the snow that raced +horizontally by the pane, through the white and peaceful country-- +homeward. Homeward to welcome whom? Whom but the man now sitting, +it might be, within a foot of me? To my heart I hugged the thought +of him, sitting there and gloating over the morrow. + +The morrow! Somehow my own horizon did not stretch as far: it was +bounded by to-night. Before to-morrow one of us two should be a dead +man; perhaps both. So best: the world with its loves and hatreds +would end to-night. So westward we sped in the grey light beneath +which the snowy fields gleamed unnaturally--westward while the sun +above showed only as a crimson ball, an orb of blood, travelling +westward too. At Bristol it glared through a murky veil of smoke, at +Exeter and through the frozen pastures and leafless woodlands of +Devon dropped swiftly towards my goal, beckoning with blood-stained +hand across the sky. Past the angry sea we tore, and then again into +the whitened fields now growing dim in the twilight. In the carriage +the talk was unceasing--talk of home, of expectant friends, of +Christmas meetings and festivities. Every station was thronged, and +many a happy welcome I witnessed as I sat there with no friend but +hate. Friends! What had I to do with such? I had a friend once, +but he was dead. Friend, parents, love--all dead by one man's hand, +and he--But a little while now; but a little while! + +We reached Plymouth shortly after five--the train being late--and +here the crowd in the carriages grew greater. It was dark, but the +moon was not yet up--the full moon by which the treasure was to be +sought. How slowly the train dragged through Cornwall! It would be +eight before we reached Penryn, and low water was at half-past +eleven. Should we be in time? + +The snow had ceased to fall: a clear north-east wind had chased the +clouds from heaven, and scarcely had we passed Saltash before a +silver rim came slowly rising above the black woods on the river's +opposite bank. Clear into the frosty night it rose, and I fell to +wondering savagely with what thoughts Colliver saluted it. + +It was already half-past eight as we changed our train at Truro, and +here again more time was wasted. Upon the platform I saw him again. +He was heavily cloaked and muffled now, for it was freezing hard; but +beneath the low brim of his hat I saw the deep, black eyes gleaming +with impatience. So at last once more we started. + +"Penryn!" + +I looked at my watch. It was nine o'clock; more than an hour and a +half late. By the light from the carriage window I saw him step out +into the shadow of the platform. I followed. Here also was a large +crowd bound for Helston, and the coach that waited outside was +quickly thronged inside and out. Colliver was outside the station in +a moment, and in another had jumped into a carriage waiting there +with two horses, and was gone up the hill beneath the shadow of the +bridge. In my folly I had forgotten that he might have telegraphed +for horses to meet him. However, the coach was fast and I could post +from Helston. I clambered up to the top, where for want of a better +seat I propped myself up on a pile of luggage, and waited whilst box +after box, amid vociferous cursing, was piled up beside me. +At length, just as I was beginning to despair of ever starting at +all, with a few final curses directed at the bystanders generally, +the driver mounted the box, shook his reins, and we were off. + +The load was so heavy that at first five horses were used, but we +left one with his postillion at the top of the hill and swung down at +a canter into the level country. The snow lay fairly deep, and the +horses' hoofs were soundless as we plunged through the crisp and +tingling air. The wind raced past me as I sat perched on my rickety +seat, swaying wildly with every lurch of the coach. With every gust +I seemed to drink in fresh strength and felt the very motion and +swiftness enter into my blood. Across the white waste we tore, up a +stiff ascent and down across the moorland again--still westward; and +now across the stretches of the moor I could catch the strong scent +of the sea upon the wind. Along the level we sped, silent and swift +beneath the moon. Here a white house by the roadside glimmered out +and was gone; there a mine-chimney shot up against the sky and faded +back again. We were going now at a gallop, and from my perch I could +see the yellow light of the lamps on the sweating necks of the +leaders. + +There was a company of sailors with me on the coach-top--smoking, +talking, and shouting. Once or twice one of them would address a +word or two to me, but got scanty answers. I was looking intently +along the road for a sign of Colliver's carriage. He must have +ordered good horses, for I saw no sign of him as yet. Stay! As we +swept round a sharp corner and swung on to the straight road again, I +thought I spied far in front a black object moving on the universal +white. Yes, it must be he: and again on the wings of the wind I +heard the call, "To-night! to-night! Kill him! kill him! kill--" + +Crash! With a heavy and sickening lurch sideways, the coach hung for +an instant, tottered, and then plunged over on its side, flinging me +clear of the luggage which pounded and rattled after. As I struggled +to my feet, half dazed, I saw a confused medley of struggling horses, +frightened passengers and scattered boxes. Collecting my senses I +rushed to help those inside the coach and then amid the moaning, +cursing and general dismay, sought out my bundle, grasped it tightly +and set off at a run down the heavy road. I could wait now for no +man. + +Panting, spent, my sore limbs weighted with snow, I gained the top of +the hill and plunged down the steep street into Helston. There, at +"the Angel" I got a post-chaise and pair, and set off once more. +At first, seeing my dress and wondering what a sailor could want with +post-chaises at that hour, they demurred, but the money quickly +persuaded them. They told me also that a gentleman had changed +horses there about half an hour before and gone towards the Lizard, +after borrowing a pickaxe and spade. Half an hour: should I yet be +in time? + +I leant back in the chaise and pondered. I knew by heart the +shortest cuts across the downs. When I reached them I would stop +the carriage and take to my feet once more. The fresh horses +were travelling fast, and as we drew near the sea I dimly noted a +hundred familiar landmarks, and in each a fresh memory of Tom. +How affectionately we had taken leave of them, one by one, on our +journey to London! Now each seemed to cry, "What have you done with +your friend?" This was my home-coming. + +At the beginning of the downs I stopped the carriage, paid and +dismissed the astonished post-boy and started off alone at a swinging +trot across the snow. Southward hung the white moon, now high in +heaven. It must be almost time. Along the old track I ran, still +clutching my bundle, over the frozen ruts, stumbling, slipping, but +with set teeth and straining muscles, skirted the hill above +Polkimbra with just a glimpse of the cottage roofs shining in the +hollow below, and raced along the cliffs towards Lantrig. I guessed +that Colliver would come across Polkimbra Beach, so had determined to +approach the rock from the northern side, over Ready-Money Cove. + +Lantrig, my old home, was merrily lit up this Christmas Eve, and the +sight of it gave me one swift, sharp pang of anguish as I stole +cautiously downwards to the sands. At the cliff's foot I paused and +looked across the Cove. + +Sable and gloomy as ever, Dead Man's Rock soared up against the moon, +the grim reality of that dark shadow which had lain upon all my +life. From it had my hate started; to it was I now at the last +returning. There it stood, the stern warder of that treasure for +which my grandfather had sold his soul, my father had given his life, +and I had lost all that made both life and soul worth having. +"Blood shall be their inheritance, and Fire their portion for ever." +The curse had lain upon us all. + +Creeping along the shadow, I crossed the little Cove and peered +through the archway on to Polkimbra Sands, now sparkling in the +moonlight. + +Not a soul in sight! As far as eye could see the beach was utterly +deserted and peaceful. I stepped down to a small pool, left by the +receding tide in the rock's shadow, removed my false hair and beard, +and carefully washed away all traces of paint from my face. +This done, I slipped off my shoes and holding them with the bundle in +my right hand, began softly and carefully to ascend the rock. +I gained the first ledge; crept out along it as far as the ring +mentioned on the clasp, and then began to climb again. This needed +care, for the ascent on the north side was harder at first than on +the other, and I could use but one hand with ease. Slowly, however, +and with effort I pulled myself up and then stole out towards the +face until I could command a view of Polkimbra Beach. Still I could +see nobody, only the lights of the little church-town twinkling +across the beach and, far beyond, the shadowy cliffs of Kynance. +I pulled out my watch. It was close on half-past eleven, the hour of +dead low water. + +As I looked up again I thought I saw a speck approaching over the +sands. Yes, I was not mistaken. I set my teeth and crouched down +nearer to the rock. Over the sands, beneath the shadow of the cliffs +he came, and as he drew nearer, I saw that he carried something on +his shoulder, doubtless the spade and pickaxe. A moment more and he +turned to see that no one was following. As he did so, the moon +shone full in his face, and I saw, stripped now of all disguises, the +features of my enemy. + +I opened the tin box and took out my knife. I had caused the thin +sharp blade, found in my dead father's heart, to be fitted to a horn +handle into which it shut with an ordinary spring-clasp. As I opened +it, the moonlight glittered down the steel and lit up the letters +"Ricordati." + +Still in the shadow, he crept down by the rock, and once more looked +about him. No single soul was abroad at that hour to see; none but +the witness crouching there above. I gripped the knife tighter as he +disappeared beneath the ledge on which I hung. + +A low curse or two, and then silence. I held my breath and waited. +Presently he reappeared, with compass in one hand and measuring-tape +in the other, and stood there for a moment looking about him. +Still I waited. + +About forty feet from the breakers now crisply splashing on the sand, +Dead Man's Rock suddenly ended on the southern side in a thin black +ridge that broke off with a drop of some ten feet. This ridge was, +of course, covered at high water, and upon it the _Belle Fortune_ had +doubtless struck before she reeled back and settled in deep water. +This was the "south point" mentioned on the clasp. Fixing his +compass carefully, he drew out the tape, and slowly began to measure +towards the north-west. "End South Point, 27 feet," I remembered +that the clasp said. He measured it out to the end, and then, +digging with his heel a small hole in the sand, began to walk back +towards the rock, this time to the north side. And still I waited. + +Again I could hear him searching for the mark--an old iron ring, once +used for mooring boats--and cursing because he could not find it. +After a minute or two, however, he came into sight again, drawing his +line now straight out from the cliff, due west. He was very slow, +and every now and then, as he bent over his task, would look swiftly +about him with a hunted air, and then set to work again. Still there +was no sight but the round moon overhead, the sparkling stretch of +sand, and the gleam of the waves as they broke in curving lines of +silver: no sound but the sigh of the night breeze. + +Apparently his measurements were successful, for the tape led him +once more to the hole he had marked in the sand. He paused for a +moment or two, drew out the clasp, which shot out a sudden gleam as +he turned it in his hand, and consulted it carefully. Presumably +satisfied, he walked back to the rock to fetch his tools. And still +I crouched, waiting, with knife in hand. + +Arrived once more at the point where the two lines met, he threw a +hasty glance around, and began to dig rapidly. He faced the sea now, +and had his back turned to me, so that I could straighten myself up, +and watch at greater ease. He dug rapidly, and the pit, as his spade +threw out heap after heap of soft sand, grew quickly bigger. +If treasure really lay there, it would soon be disclosed. + +Presently I heard his spade strike against something hard. Surely he +had not yet dug deeply enough. The clasp had said "four feet six +inches," and the pit could not yet be more than three feet in depth. +Colliver bent down and drew something out, then examined it intently. +As I strained forward to look, he half turned, and I saw between his +hands--a human skull. Whose? Doubtless, some victim's of those many +that went down in the _Belle Fortune_; or perhaps the skull of John +Railton, sunk here above the treasure to gain which he had taken the +lives of other men and lost in the end his own. It was a grisly +thought, but apparently troubled Colliver little, for with a jerk of +his arm he sent it bowling down the sands towards the breakers. +A bound or two, a splash, and it was swallowed up once more by the +insatiate sea. + +With this he fell to digging anew, and I to watching. For a full +twenty minutes he laboured, flinging out the sand to right and left, +and every now and then stopping for a moment to measure his progress. +By this time, I judged, he must have dug below the depth pointed out +upon the clasp, for once or twice he drew it out and paused in his +work to consult it. + +He was just resuming, after one of these rests, when his spade grated +against something. He bent low to examine it, and then began to +shovel out the sand with inconceivable rapidity. + +The treasure was found! + +Like a madman he worked: so that even from where I stood I could hear +his breath coming hard and fast. At length, with one last glance +around, he knelt down and disappeared from my view. My time was +come. + +Knife in hand, I softly clambered down the south side of the rock, +and dropped upon the sand. + +The pit lay rather to the north, so that by creeping behind the ridge +on the south side I could get close up to him unobserved, even should +he look. But he was absorbed now in his prize, so that I stole +noiselessly out across the strip of sand between us until within +about ten feet of him; then, on hands and knees, I crawled and pulled +myself to the trench's lip and peered over. + +There, below me, within grasp, he sat, his back still turned towards +me. The moon was full in front, so that it cast no shadow of me +across him. There he sat, and in front of him lay, imbedded in the +sand, a huge iron chest, bound round with a broad band of iron, and +secured with an enormous padlock. On the rusty top I could even +trace the rudely-cut initials A. T. + +I held my breath as he drew from his pocket my grandfather's key and +inserted it in the lock, after first carefully clearing away the +sand. The stubborn lock creaked heavily as at last and with +difficulty he managed to turn the key. And still I knelt above him, +knife in hand. + +Then, with a long, shuddering sigh, he lifted and threw back the +groaning lid. We both gazed, and as we gazed were well-nigh blinded. + +For this is what we saw:-- + +At first, only a blaze of darting rays that beneath the moon gleamed, +sparkled and shot out a myriad scintillations of colour--red, violet, +orange, green and deepest crimson. Then by degrees I saw that all +these flashing hues came from one jumbled heap of gems--some large, +some small, but together in value beyond a king's ransom. + +I caught my breath and looked again. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, +amethysts, opals, emeralds, turquoises, and innumerable other stones +lay thus roughly heaped together and glittering as though for joy to +see the light of heaven once more. Some polished, some uncut, some +strung on necklaces and chains, others gleaming in rings and +bracelets and barbaric ornaments; there they lay--wealth beyond the +hope of man, the dreams of princes. + +The chest measured some five feet by three, and these jewels +evidently lay in a kind of sunken drawer, or tray, of iron. In the +corner of this was a small space of about four inches square, covered +with an iron lid. As we gazed with straining eyes, Colliver drew one +more long sigh of satisfied avarice, and lifted this smaller lid. + +Instantly a full rich flood of crimson light welled up, serene and +glorious, with luminous shafts of splendour, that, as we looked, met +and concentred in one glowing heart of flame--met in one translucent, +ineffable depth of purple-red. Calm and radiant it lay there, as +though no curse lay in its deep hollows, no passion had ever fed its +flames with blood; stronger than the centuries, imperishably and +triumphantly cruel--the Great Ruby of Ceylon! + +With a short gasp of delight, Colliver was stretching out his hand +towards it, when I laid mine heavily on his shoulder, then sprang to +my feet. My waiting was over. + +He gave one start of uttermost terror, leapt to his feet, and in an +instant was facing me. Already his knife was half out of his +waist-band; already he had taken half a leap forwards, when he saw me +standing there above him. + +Bareheaded I stood in the moonlight, the white ray glittering +up my knife and lighting up my bared chest and set stern face. +Bareheaded, with the light breeze fanning my curls, I stood there and +waited for his leap. But that leap never came. + +One step forward he took and then looked, and looking, staggered back +with hands thrown up before his face. Slowly, as he cowered back +with hands upraised and straining eyeballs, I saw those eyeballs grow +rigid, freeze and turn to stone, while through his gaping, bloodless +lips came a hoarse and gasping sound that had neither words nor +meaning. + +Then as I still watched, with murderous purpose on my face, there +came one awful cry, a scream that startled the gulls from slumber and +awoke echo after echo along the shore--a scream like no sound in +earth or heaven--a scream inhuman and appalling. + +Then followed silence, and as the last echo died away, he fell. + +As he collapsed within the pit, I made a step forward to the brink +and looked. He was now upon his hands and knees before the chest, +bathing his hands in the gleaming heap of gems, catching them up in +handfuls, and as they ran like sparkling rain through his fingers, +muttering incoherently to himself and humming wild snatches of song. + +"Colliver--Simon Colliver!" I called. + +He paid no attention, but went on tossing up the diamonds and rubies +in his hands and watching them as they rattled down again upon the +heap. + +"Simon Colliver!" + +I leapt down into the pit beside him, and laid my hand upon his +shoulder. He paused for a moment, and looked up with a vacant gleam +in his deep eyes. + +"Colliver, I have to speak a word with you." + +"Oh, yes, I know you. Trenoweth, of course: Ezekiel Trenoweth come +back again after the treasure. But you are too late, too late, too +late! You are dead now--ha, ha! dead and rotting. + + "For his glittering eyes are the salt sea's prize, + And his fingers clutch the sand, my lads. + +"Aha! his fingers clutch the sand. Here's pretty sand for you! sand +of all colours; look, look, there's a brave sparkle!" And again he +ran the priceless shower through his fingers. + +"Oh, yes," he continued after a moment, looking up, "oh, yes, I know +you--Ezekiel Trenoweth, of course; or is it Amos, or Jasper? +No matter, you are all dead. I killed the last of you last year--no, +last night; all dead. + + "And the devil has got his due, my lads! + +"His due, his due! Look at it! look again! I had a skull just now. +John Railton's skull, no eyes in it though, + + "For his glittering eyes are the salt sea's-- + +"Where is the skull? Let me fit it with a bonny pair of eyes here-- +here they are, or here, look, here's a pair that change colour when +they move. Where is the skull? Give it me. Oh, I forgot, I lost +it. Never mind, find it, find it. Here's plenty of eyes when you +find it. Or give it this big, red one. Here's a flaming, fiery +eye!" + +As he stretched out his hand over the Great Ruby, I caught him by the +wrist. But he was too quick for me, and with a sharp snarl and click +of his teeth, had whipped his hand round to his back. + +Then in a flash, as I grappled with him, he thrust me back with his +left palm, and, with a sweep of his right, hurled the great jewel far +out into the sea. I saw it rise and curve in one long, sparkling +arch of flame, then fall with a dropping line of fire down into the +billows. A splash--a jet of light, and it was gone:--gone perhaps to +hide amid the rotting timbers of what was once the _Belle Fortune_, +or among the bones of her drowned crew to watch with its blood-red +tireless eye the extremity of its handiwork. There, for aught I +know, it lies to-day, and there, for aught I care, beneath the waters +it shall treasure its infernal loveliness for ever. + +Into its red heart I have looked once, and this was what I read:--of +treachery, lust and rapine; of battle and murder and sudden death; of +midnight outcries, and poison in the guest-cup; of a curse that said, +"Even as the Heart of the Ruby is Blood and its Eyes a Flaming Fire, +so shall it be for them that would possess it: Fire shall be their +portion, and Blood their inheritance for ever." Of that quest and +that curse we were the two survivors. And what were we, that night, +as we stood upon the sands with that last hellish glitter still +dancing in our eyes? The one, a lonely and broken man; the other-- + +I turned to look at Colliver. He was huddled against the pit's side, +with his dark eyes gazing wistfully up at me. In their shining +depths there lurked no more sanity than in the heart of the Great +Ruby. As I looked, I knew him to be a hopeless madman, and knew also +that my revenge had slipped from me for ever. + +We were still standing so when a soft wave came stealing up the beach +and flung the lip of its foam over the pit's edge into the chest. +I turned round. The tide was rising fast, and in a minute or so +would be upon us. Catching Colliver by the shoulder, I pointed and +tried to make him understand; but the maniac had again fallen to +playing with the jewels. I shook him; he did not stir, only sat +there jabbering and singing. And now wave after wave came splashing +over us, soaking us through, and hissing in phosphorescent pools +among the gems. + +There was no time to be lost. I tore the madman back, stamped down +the lid, locked it, and took out the key; then caught Colliver in my +arms and heaved him bodily out of the trench. Jumping out beside +him, I caught up the spade and shovelled back the wet sand as fast as +I could, until the tide drove us back. Colliver stood quite tamely +beside me all this while and watched the treasure disappearing from +his view; only every now and then he would chatter a few wild words, +and with that break off again in vacant wonder at my work. + +When all was done that could be, I took my companion's hand, led him +up the sands beyond high-water mark, and then sat down beside him, +waiting for the dawn. + +And there, next morning, by Dead Man's Rock they found us, while +across the beach came the faint music of Polkimbra bells as they rang +their Christmas peal, "Peace on earth and goodwill toward men." + + +There is little more to tell. Next day, at low ebb, with the aid of +Joe Roscorla (still hale and hearty) and a few Polkimbra fishermen +whom I knew, the rest of my grandfather's treasure was secured and +carried up from the sea. In the iron chest, besides the gems already +spoken of, and beneath the iron tray containing them, was a +prodigious quantity of gold and silver, partly in ingots, partly in +coinage. This last was of all nationalities: moidores, dollars, +rupees, doubloons, guineas, crown-pieces, louis, besides an amount of +coins which I could not trace, the whole proving a most catholic +taste in buccaneering. So much did it all weigh, that we found it +impossible to stir the chest as it stood, and therefore secured the +prize piecemeal. Strangest of all, however, was a folded parchment +which, we discovered beneath the tray of gems and above the coins. +It contained but few words, which ran as follows-- + + FAIR FORTUNE WRECKED, FAIR FORTUNE FOUND, + AND ALL BUT THE FINDER UNDERGROUND.--A.T. + +This, as, far as I know, was my grandfather's one and only attempt at +verse; and its apparent application to the wreck of the _Belle +Fortune_ is a coincidence which puzzles me to this day. + +The reader will search the chronicles of wrecks in vain for the story +of that ill-fated ship. But if he comes upon the record of a certain +vessel, the _James and Elizabeth_, wrecked upon the Cornish coast on +the night of October 11th, 1849, he may know it to be the same. +For that was the name given by the only survivor, one Georgio +Rhodojani, a Greek sailor, and as the _James and Elizabeth_ she +stands entered to this day. + +If, however, his curiosity lead him further to inquire into the +after-history of this same Georgio Rhodojani, let him go on a fine +summer day to the County Lunatic Asylum at Bodmin, and, with +permission, enter the grounds set apart for private patients. +There he may chance to see a strange sight. + +On a garden seat against the sunny wall sit two persons--a man and a +woman. The man is decrepit and worn, being apparently about +sixty-seven or eight years old; but the woman, as the keepers will +tell, is ninety. She is his mother, and as they sit together, she +feeds him with sweets and fruit as tenderly as though he were a +child. He takes them, but never notices her, and when he has had +enough, rises abruptly and walks away humming a song which runs-- + + "So it's hey! for the homeward bound, my lads! + And ho! for the drunken crew, + For his mess-mates round lie dead and drowned, + And the devil has got his due, my lads-- + Sing ho! but he waits for you!" + +This is his only song now, and he will walk round the gravel paths by +the hour, singing it softly and muttering. Sometimes, however, he +will sit for long beside his mother and let her pat his hand. +They never speak. + +Folks say that she is as mad as her son, but she lodges in the town +outside the walls and comes to see him every day. Certainly she is +as remarkable to look upon, for her skin is of a brilliant and +startling yellow, and her withered hands are loaded with diamonds. +As you pass, she will stare at you with eyes absolutely passionless +and vague; but see them as she sighs and turns to go, see them as she +watches for a responsive touch of love on her son's face, and you may +find some meaning in them then. + +Mrs. Luttrell was never seen again from the hour when she stood below +the river steps and waved her white arms to me, crying "Kill him! +kill him!" I made every inquiry but could learn nothing, save that +my boat had been found floating below Gravesend, quite empty. +She can scarcely be alive, so that is yet one soul more added to the +account of the Great Ruby. + +Failing to find her mother, I had Claire's body conveyed to +Polkimbra. She lies buried beside my father and mother in the +little churchyard there. Above her head stands a white stone with +the simple words, "In memory of C. L., died Dec. 23rd, 1863. +'Love is strong as death.'" + +The folk at Polkimbra have many a fable about this grave, but if +pressed will shake their heads sagely and refer you to "Master +Trenoweth up yonder at Lantrig. Folks say she was a play-actor and +he loved her. Anyway you may see him up in the churchyard most days, +but dont'ee go nigh him then, unless you baint afeard of th'evil +eye." + +And I? After the treasure was divided with Government, I still had +for my share what I suppose would be called a considerable fortune. +The only use to which I put it, however, was to buy back Lantrig, the +home of a stock that will die out with me. There again from the +middle beam in the front parlour hangs my grandfather's key, covered +with cobwebs as thickly as on the day when my father went forth to +seek the treasure. There I live a solitary life--an old man, though +scarcely yet past middle age. For all my hopes are buried in the +grave where sleeps my lost love, and my soul shall lie for ever under +the curse, engulfed and hidden as deeply as the Great Ruby beneath +the shadow of Dead Man's Rock. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEAD MAN'S ROCK*** + + +******* This file should be named 17842.txt or 17842.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/8/4/17842 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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