an ebook published byProject Gutenberg Australia
The Moccasins of Silence:
Ernest Favenc:
eBook No.: 0607071h.html
Language: English
Date first posted: Sep 2006
Most recent update: Jan 2023
This eBook was produced by Richard Scott, Roy Glashan and Colin Choat
by
Ernest Favenc
TO the following story a preface is an actualnecessity. I say this by way of apology, for as a rule a prefaceis seldom read. I am going to touch on an aboriginal custom notgenerally known, in fact it is only of late years that it hasbeen brought to light. In the heart of Australia, namely in theneighbourhood of Barrow Creek and to the north of that locality,dwell tribes whose distinctive rites and ceremonies seem to setthem apart from their brethren of other portions of the greatAustral continent. These natives are exceedingly cunning in theconstruction of their weapons, and signs, much resemblinghieroglyphic writing, have been found on them. But the mostsingular fact is that they are the only natives of Australiaknown to wear a foot-covering. Only a few pairs of these shoeshave been brought into civilization. Mr. Norman Hardy has onepair, and there is a pair in the Australian Museum, on which Mr.R. Etheridge has written a paper, published in the records of theLinnean Society of N.S. Wales, from which I extract the followingdescription:
"It is now known that certain tribes of theaborigines, towards the centre of the continent, manufacture avery beautiful shoe composed of emu feathers. Two entirelydifferent uses have been ascribed to these. On the one hand, thelate Mr. E. M. Curr stated that the blacks of the Musgrove Rangeswear these shoes, when they attack their enemies by stealth atnight; on the other hand, Mr. C. French, Government Entomologist,Melbourne, has more recently referred them to a portion of thestock-in-trade of the rain-maker of the McDonnell ranges."
For the rest of this most interesting and instructive article,I must refer my readers to the records of the societyabove-mentioned.
The shoes are about 8 to 10 inches in length and 4 in breadth.The upper part is woven of human hair, the opening to admit thefoot being in the centre. The soles are very thick and made ofdry grass, mixed with gum and human blood. On the sole is thenstuck a dressing of emu feathers which renders them as noiselessas the list slippers of the burglar. The shoes are exactly thesame at each end, there being neither heel nor toe. In givingthem the name of "Moccasins" I am aware that I am taking somewhatof a liberty, but the picturesqueness of the title was tooalluring to be resisted.
—Ernest Favenc.
A GROUP of New Guinea boys busily engaged incleaning pearl-shell, chattering the while, as they wield theirknives, and show their strong, even teeth in frequent laughter.Fine, strapping, copper-coloured fellows, with great mops of hairdyed yellow. A white man leans against the door post, dreamilysmoking; trying hard to think of nothing and succeeding tolerablywell. Beyond—is as fair a view as could be seen anywhere inthe thousands of miles of the long Australian coast-line.
It is the glorious winter weather of the southern tropic, andthe deep blue waters of the almost land-locked strait arerippling merrily under the breath of the steady south-eastmonsoon. The grey hills of Prince of Wales Island stand out instriking contrast to the white sands at their feet, and theentrance to the narrow passage separating it from Friday Islandis just visible, looking like the mouth of a picturesque inlet.White sails on the sea, white houses clustering here and there onthe shore, make a scene gay with color and sparkling withsunshine.
"The flag's up, Tom," says a voice; "she's just rounding GoodeIsland," and the speaker, approaching, lays his hand on thesmoker's shoulder.
"Heaps of time," returns Tom, knocking his pipe out; "but Isuppose I may as well get ready."
"Take a turn on the beach first," replies the new-comer, "Ihave something more to tell you."
They stroll on until they stand close to the lapping waveletskissing the shell-strewn strand, then Annett, a man some five orsix years older than his partner, Tom Duckworth, speaks: "Themain thing, of course, as you know, is to find out thewhereabouts of Ras Mahad."
Tom nodded. "Hillsden knows, but, if he won't tell, I don'texactly see how you are to make him; that is, without letting himinto our confidence, and he's too big a scamp for that. But wediscussed all this before. What I have to tell you is this. Youremember the boy Djuran we picked up adrift on that proa,half-starved. He knows quite as much about what we want to findout as Ras Mahad himself. Comes from the same place, probably arelation of some sort. I heard last night that he was on thenor'-west coast, and it's my belief that Ras Mahad is there too,so, if you can make nothing out of Hillsden when you're down,we'll go round there and see."
"I don't see why Hillsden should refuse to tell me what heknows."
"Simply because he is one of those suspicious, grasping rogueswho would immediately suspect that you had some ulterior motivein asking the question—."
"Which I have," interrupted Tom.
"True; but whether you had or not he would presume that youhad, and tell you a lie on principle. It's one satisfaction toknow that, if you get nothing out of him, he'll get nothing outof you."
Tom smiled grimly; the reticence of his nature was well knownin Torres' Strait.
"Here she comes round the point," went on Annett, "You'll goand see Ruth as soon as ever you get down;" and the two menturned back to the hotel.
The E. and A. steamer slowed down and picked up thewater-police boat with the resident and customs-officer on board,then, after a brief interval, went alongside the hulk, made fast,and immediately a furious blast on the whistle proclaimed thefact that she had no time to waste at Thursday Island.
The agent's boat, with its smart-looking coloured crew, hadjust returned from the steamer and was waiting at the boat jettywhen the partners came down, both now dressed in immaculatewhite, the luggage was put in and the two men were soon alongsidethe China boat. From the greetings Tom received as he stepped onboard, it was evident that he was both well-known and well-liked.The cargo was rapidly transhipped to the hulk, the third whistleblew, and with a warm handshake the two men parted. "Who is yourlady passenger?" asked Duckworth of the purser, as he regarded afeminine object in a cane chair on the poop.
"From Hong Kong. By the way, she came up with us over twoyears ago, the last time that you did."
"What, that sallow girl with the big eyes? Let's see, what wasshe going to do—join her relations at Singapore orsomewhere?"
"Yes, I think so. At any rate she's married now, so you'resafe."
"Whom did she marry?"
"Say—What did she marry? Some sort of a half-bredPortuguese. Plenty of money, seemingly, for she's a walkingjeweller's shop. She gave us to understand that when she gotmarried she stipulated to have a trip to Australia once a yearfor her health."
"O hang it!" said Tom wearily, "she'll expect me to rememberher and play pretty, and all that sort of thing. Come on, like agood fellow, and let's have some whisky first."
The refreshment concluded, Duckworth went to his cabin and sawhis traps stowed. The purser was sitting at the table with a lotof papers before him when he again stepped into the saloon, andthe purser made a slight gesture towards the main-deck.
"She's waiting for you," he said, with a grin.
"What was her maiden name, do you remember?" asked Duckworth."I must address her by that. I'm not supposed to know that she ismarried."
"Blessed if I know. She calls herself Madame da Lucca now, butI can't remember what she was as a Miss. Something grand Ibelieve, Montagu, Montmorency, or a name of that sort. Here'sRawlins"—as the third officer entered—"he'll know, hewas awfully gone on her. What was Madame's maiden name before shewas married?"
"Miss Jones," returned Rawlins shortly.
"So it was," said the purser.
"Go ahead, old man, you're right now. Go and get it over."
Tom stepped out of the saloon. It may be supposed that thelady had also been making enquiries about his identity, for sheflashed a radiant glance of recognition at him.
"So we are to be fellow-passengers once more, Miss Jones," hesaid, as they shook hands.
"Yes, only you're not a fellow-passenger with Miss Jones, butwith Madame da Lucca."
"Then I have to congratulate somebody unknown to me?"
"You have"—she smiled—"and, without wishing toflatter you, I may say I am glad to see you on board, for we haveonly two other passengers and they are both invalids."
Duckworth had been eyeing her curiously. The scraggy girl withthe sallow face and big eyes that he now recalled, had beenimproved out of existence. The big eyes still remained, but thesallow complexion had developed into a warm olive tint which shehad the good sense to leave alone, and the angularities of herform had rounded themselves into curves. "She must have been agood deal younger than we supposed," thought Tom. "I have heardthat these 'legs-and-wings' girls have a knack of suddenlysurprising people this way."
"Certainly your remark is not flattering," he said aloud, "asyou infer that if there had been some more passengers you wouldnot have cared whether I came on board or not." Madame da Luccalaughed. "You're changed, Mr. Duckworth. I remember you as a veryfrigid person indeed, whom one could scarcely get two wordsfrom."
"You are changed, too," he said unthinkingly.
"I suppose I am," she said, after a pause. "I was the grubthen; I am the butterfly now."
"I never meant anything so rude," he said, hastily coloring asmuch as such a sun-tanned man could.
"Well, I forgive you if you did; you may sit opposite to me atdinner," and, with a flash of the big eyes, she left Tom andentered the saloon.
"Well I'm blessed," thought Duckworth, pushing his hat backand leaning against the side. "What a transformation! I supposein the lot she has got amongst she has been queening it, and thathas given her such confounded assurance."
"Well!" said the purser as he approached and offered Duckwortha cigar, "how did you get on with Madame?"
"Look here!" returned Tom, "there's no humbug about this, isthere? That's the same gawk that came up with us thattime—not an elder sister?"
"It's the very same, that I'll vouch for. I don't believeshe's got any sisters. I thought she'd astonish you."
"Why hang it, man, she told me I could sit opposite to her atdinner! I suppose all you fellows would laugh if I had my chowsent into my cabin and said I was sea-sick?"
"We would so, and suggest that Madame should nurse you."
FROM the glad dancing waters of the Straits tothe aridity of Central Australia is a quick and sudden change. Itis night-time, and a young and sinking moon throws but a sicklylight around—a light that is more confusing than starlight.There is no cheery camp-fire blaze here; for, down in a pit, dugdeep in the earth to hide its glow, is a heap of glowingcharcoal, and round it the members of the surveyor's camp warmtheir frosty hands and discuss the day's work.
Two men are standing somewhat apart from this subterraneanfurnace, and suddenly one stops and holds up his hand, and theother ceases speaking.
"There, Jim," says Lestrell, the surveyor in charge, to hiscadet, "I heard it again, I am sure. Let's get away from the campand listen. Those confounded camels make as much noise as ablacksmith's bellows."
The two go a few paces away from the camp andstand—listening. Patiently they remain, and are rewardedfor their trouble.
From the far distance, seemingly right under the dying moon,rises a chant of men's voices, wild, rhythmic, and solemn.
"I never heard niggers make such a noise as that before," saysJim, after the distant voices had died into silence.
"Nor I," returns Lestrell, "But I tell you, man, they're aqueer lot about these McDonnell Ranges; quite different from theordinary run of blacks. Their weapons have got strange minutecarvings on them, like a language of signs."
Again the far-away chant rises and sinks. Lestrell has takenout his compass, and, by the aid of a match, got the bearing."Look here, Jim, there's something special on now that no whiteman has yet seen. What do you say to going and having a look?They can't be more than a couple of miles away, at theoutside."
"Risky," returned Jim, "but we'll go. Let's wake up that boyDando, he came from about here, and can explain what's goingon."
"Wake him if you can, but I'd rather you undertook thecontract than I did. I know what waking a nigger up at this timeof night is like."
Jim however went away and by some means, best known tohimself, succeeded, for he presently returned with a verysleepy-looking black boy of about twenty years of age.
"Now Dando," said Lestrell, "you keep quiet."
Almost as the surveyor spoke the weird chant commenced again.If ever there was a wide-awake nigger in one instant, that niggerwas Dando. He caught Lestrell's arm with both hands, and thewhite man could feel him trembling as though the ague hadsuddenly attacked him.
"Now, what does it mean?" asked the surveyor when there wassilence once more.
"Debbil!" said the boy in his broken English—"big fellowdebbil!"
"We are going to look at him," said Jim, "and you must cometoo, Dando."
All Dando's prayers and supplications were of no avail, andthe three started off in the direction of the strange sound Inless than two miles they were close to the reflection of a firewhich they had seen as soon as they had got fairly away from thecamp; apparently it was in a ravine running down from an outlyingspur of the range, and, approaching cautiously, they foundshelter behind some boulders, and looked down at the scene.
They were closer than they imagined, for the wavering lightand the shadows had deceived them. There were but six blacks inall, five of them being fully armed and painted, but the sixthwas unarmed and hideous to look upon. His face was whitened allover, so that his eyes seemed looking out of a mask, and everybone in his lean, naked body was picked out with white pigment,on which were stuck tufts of white feathers, cemented with humanblood. At sight of this gruesome figure Dando crouched downbeside Lestrell, shuddering convulsively.
This man seemed to be the leader of whatever diabolical riteswere going on. He had before him what appeared to be a pair ofshoes, and these appeared to be the especial objects of attentionto all of them. He was busy with them when the whites firstlooked down, but, having finished whatever it was he was doing,he suddenly arose, holding them aloft, one in each hand,repeating some formula as he did so. At the words he uttered theblacks crouched down as if in terror, and Lestrell made sure thatthey would be discovered, Dando's quaking was so violent.
Three times the awful thing repeated the words, whatever theywere—standing there in the red firelight, with skinny armsupraised, and a background of blackness behind. Presently heceased, the other blacks raised their heads, and the weird chantarose once more. Uncanny as it had sounded at a distance, it waseven more so when looking down upon the singers.
When silence succeeded, the necromancer rose up again and wasabout to proceed with some more of his mummery, when his gazesuddenly became fixed on the rock behind which the two white menwere hiding. In their interest in what was going on, they hadallowed too much of their heads to be seen, and the fire blazingup, had illumined their white faces. Yelling and stamping withrage, the magician pointed towards them, and the other blacks,echoing his cries, shipped their spears and prepared to throwthem.
Lestrell and Jim ducked, unhurt, as the weapons hurled againstthe rocks, and the former said to his companion: "No help for itnow, Jim. I hate to have to do it, but it's our only chance. I'lltake the medicine-man; you take the big fellow in the lead."
The blacks were advancing, the hideous white-and-black figuredancing in demoniac rage around the fire.
The two fired together. Jim's man went down in a heap andnever moved; the medicine-man fell on his back; the othershesitated, looked around and fled.
"Get up!" said Lestrell, kicking Dando, who was stillcrouching on the ground.
"We're going to the camp. Come and tell us what all thisdebbil-debbil stuff has been about."
Dando got up and gazed fearfully on all sides, but, seeing thecamp apparently deserted, followed Lestrell and Jim down.
"I want to see what those things are that he was blessing, orcursing, or something," said Lestrell, and going forward hepicked up the two objects lying near the body of themedicine-man.
They were a pair of beautifully woven slippers, or rather,moccasins, made the same at both ends, and strangely small,considering the size of a black-fellow's foot. So far as Lestrellcould judge by the firelight, they were woven out of humanhair.
"What are these for, Dando," he asked.
"Blackfellow go alonga 'nother fellow's camp, sun tumble down,kill him: that fellow no makum noise."
Lestrell looked at Jim, who was examining one of them. "Neverheard of them before," he said, "but that must be their use,evidently. To sneak on an enemy at night and kill him."
"What was that old man saying, Dando?" asked Lestrell. "Onetime blood sit down. Two fellow blood sit down. Three fellowblood belonga man bin carry shoe."
Lestrell put the moccasins down, and as he did sosaid:—"We'll have a good look round and then get back tocamp." A shriek from Dando stopped him.
Up rose the awful spectre of the medicine-man. He had beenshot through the chest, and the blood had made hideous streaks ofcrimson across the white paint with which he was bedaubed.Swaying before the fire he stood, and, scooping up a handful ofhalf congealed blood from his body, shook and sprinkled it overthe moccasins. Then, with his bloodstained hand uplifted to thestars, his sightless eyes staring out of the white mask thatcovered his face, he strove to utter once more the imprecation hehad formerly repeated. With blood and froth oozing at every wordfrom his half-dead lips, he called down his final curse anddropped dead at the end.
No man's nerve is proof against such a scene. It was some timebefore Lestrell mustered his, sufficiently to stoop and pick upthe awful shoes of death.
"Once have they been wet with blood," he said. "I will takethem away and see that the curse is of no avail."
The two men and the still quaking black boy returned to theircamp, and in due time the survey was finished and Lestrellreturned to Adelaide, taking with him the silent moccasins, thefirst of the kind that had ever been brought in from theinterior.
"YOU will call and see me," said Madame daLucca to Duckworth, as they said goodbye when the steamer reachedSydney. Tom, of course, replied that he would, and the cab droveaway.
"Which shall I do first?" he thought, after he had settledhimself at his own hotel; "go and see how Ruth is getting on, orhave it out with Hillsden. I'll toss up." He did so, and itturned out to be Hillsden.
Hillsden was an ex pearl-sheller, and an ex good many otherthings. He had relinquished pearl-shelling, or it hadrelinquished him, and had started an "Agency" in Sydney—aterm which covers all the iniquities in life, from bailing out adrunken man to negotiating a loan for a few thousands. Hillsden,however, was supposed to keep to the Northern trade, and by theappearance of his office he seemed to flourish on it.
"Captain Duckworth, by Jove!" he cried, when Tom was usheredin. "Delighted to see you, old man," he went on, wringing hishand as though they were the dearest friends who had been partedfor years. "How are they all, up north."
"First-rate, when I left. Shell was getting scarce, but we'vestruck a fresh patch," returned Tom.
"Glad to hear it."
"How are you doing?"
"Fairly; can't grumble."
For about half an hour the two talked "shop," and Duckworthgradually led round to the opening he was looking for.
"By the way, talking of Darnley Island, what's become of thatMalay diver you had out there—Ras Mahad?"
"I don't know; lost sight of him altogether. Why? Do you wanthim?"
"We want another diver, and he was a good man."
"Yes, a steady sort of fellow; but I am under the impression,in fact, almost sure, that he went home."
"That's a lie," thought Tom, and Hillsden, had just made thesame mental remark concerning Tom's observation. "I should liketo have got hold of him," said Duckworth; "but, if you don't knowwhere he is, I don't suppose anybody does, as you were the lastman he was working for."
"I've lost sight of him altogether, my dear fellow, but itstruck me he was a bit homesick, and when those fellows get thatway they generally depart, as you know."
"I've got to go a short distance out of town this afternoon,"said Tom, rising, "so must be going."
"Look me up to-morrow, old fellow, and we'll go and have somelunch together. By the way, I forgot to ask after Annett?"
"He's first-rate, thanks."
"Ever heard the truth about his brother; whether he is aliveor dead?"
"No; we are still in doubt."
"Nor the diamonds, either?" went on Hillsden, laughing. Tomlaughed too, and had opened the door, when Hillsden suddenlysaid:—"Doesn't Ras Mahad know something about the site ofthe wreck?"
"We are all in the dark, and I don't suppose shall ever knowmore than we do now. See you to-morrow," and Duckworth closed thedoor.
"Seems to me I did more harm than good," he thought, as hegained the street. "Didn't know that I was such a talkative foolbefore. Now I suppose I had better go out and see Ruth; wonderwhat she's grown like? Prim sort of name; reminds me ofPriscilla, the Puritan maiden, and all that kind of thing."
Duckworth hailed a cab, for the ubiquitous trams had not thenquite extended all over the Sydney suburbs, and after about aquarter of an hour's drive stopped at a pretty cottage, standingin fair-sized grounds. Everything about the place had a quiet,peaceful, old-world look, pleasant and refreshing. It was justthe sort of place where you would expect to see the local curatea favoured and daily visitor.
"Miss Annett," said Tom, as he gave his card to the girl andwas shown into a bright little drawing-room. Duckworth smiled ashe looked round at the curios of all kinds about the room, everyone telling of the torrid zone. He was gazing out of the windowat the trim garden, in the indolent fashion peculiar to him,thinking, somehow, of Madame da Lucca's big eyes, when two handswere placed round his neck by someone who had stolen up softlybehind him; his head was pulled back and a kiss bestowed on hischeek.
"There uncle Tom," said a girl's voice, "that's for you,and"—giving him another—"that's for uncle Dick."
Duckworth turned; caught her hands, and looked at her.Priscilla, the Puritan maiden, indeed!
The girl was about eighteen, but, beyond the impression she atonce gave you that she was pretty, it would be almost impossibleto describe her. She had a straight nose and a good mouth, but,except that her eyes were honest and merry, you could not haveportrayed their colour, and her hair was the same—of a veryindeterminate hue. Youth, health and sweetness seemed to be partand parcel of her being, and the fitting word for her would havebeen "bonnie."
Duckworth took her face between his hands and kissed heraffectionately. Ever since the long absence of her father and hismysterious fate, she had been as their child to both thepartners. Once, when a boat capsized almost half-way betweenThursday and Friday Islands, Tom swam ashore with her, and everafterwards he had been her uncle by love, as Annett, his partner,was by blood.
"I've been looking out for you so long, uncle Tom," she said,"I thought that steamer was never coming in. You're going to stopa long while and give me a good time, aren't you?"
"You shall have the best of times while I'm here," returnedTom, laughing. "So, that's all you wanted me for, to give you agood time?"
"Not at all, you know I wanted you; but poor auntie can't getout, now. Here she comes," and she ran to the door, opened it,and lovingly assisted a lady of over middle age, who walked withthe aid of a stick. Tom, too, went to meet her, and her face,which was a remarkably kindly one, brightened at sight of him.Together they put her in an invalid chair, and Duckworth satbeside her, while the girl took possession of a low stool on theother side.
"My brother is well, I know from your letter," said MissAnnett. "How is he looking?"
"Just the same as ever; not a bit older."
"No news of Reggy?" she asked, putting her hand as ifunconsciously on the girl's head.
"Nothing definite. One of us would have gone to look for himlong ago had we any clue, but we might cruise all round NewGuinea, and to every island between Thursday Island and the MalayPeninsula without avail, as it is."
"True," she replied.
"I have one thing to tell you," went on Duckworth. "But forthis silly story that he had a big parcel of diamonds from Borneowith him, I believe we should have found out the truth long ago.We know that although the proa was wrecked right enough; theprobabilities are that every one got ashore safely; butunfortunately we did not find this out until too late. Ras Mahad,one of the men on board, was diving for a man named Hillsden, andhe must have let something drop, for we cannot find him, and I amcertain Hillsden knows where he is and can put his hand on him.We did not know that this Ras Mahad was one of the crew of theproa until after his disappearance. We would tell this Hillsdenwhat we wanted the man for, simply to find out where the proa waswrecked, but he is a bit of a rogue and would play us false, forhe has got this story of the diamonds on the brain. However,there is a young fellow named Djuran who was also on board theproa, and Annett has heard that he is engaged at thepearl-fishery on the north-west coast; so we may probably takethe schooner and go round there. We picked up this boy alone on adeserted proa, half-starved, but he could not talk English at thetime, so, again we were in ignorance that we had a chance."
"It is over two years now," said Miss Annett.
"Yes, but I'm of the opinion that he will turn up at any time,there are a dozen causes that might have delayed him."
"I am glad to hear you say that, for I have the same hopemyself. You know as well as I do what an erratic fellow Reggywas and how his love for adventure and discovery would makehim go anywhere and forget everything."
"Don't I? If the proa was wrecked on the New Guinea coast forinstance, I have not the slightest doubt but what he would atonce start off to see what the interior was like." Miss Annettsmiled, but her face wore a more hopeful look since she had beentalking to Tom. "Will you stay with us Mr. Duckworth, or have youtaken a room in town?"
"Ruth says she has got to have a good time while I am down,"replied Tom. "Is there anything on worth seeing at any of thetheatres?"
"Yes;" struck in Ruth, "there is an opera company playing'Faust' to night, I want to see that."
"Very well then, Miss Annett, if Ruth will be content with thehumble stalls, I will stay here and take her in, if not I must goback and dress."
"Oh, I prefer the humble stalls, Uncle Tom."
"At that rate, I'll send my cabman away and tell him tocome back to take us in tonight."
"Uncle Tom," whispered Ruth that night, during one of theintervals, "There's a lady in the dress-circle keeps staringeither at you or me through her opera-glass. I thinks it's at me.I wish she wouldn't."
"What's she like?" asked Duckworth.
"Dark, with a lot of diamonds."
"Is she looking now?" asked Tom, still without turninghis head.
Ruth stole a glance. "No; she has turned round to speak tosome one."
Duckworth looked round hastily. "Yes, I know her, Ruth; shewas a passenger on board the steamer; comes from Hongkong."
"A walking jeweller's shop," he thought—"a bazaar,rather; still, she's is a fine-looking woman."
But, in spite of her being a fine-looking woman, Tom kept hisattention riveted on the stage for the remainder of theperformance. Somehow Madame da Lucca and his niece by adoptiondid not seem to harmonise, so he avoided a recognition in themost cowardly and ungrateful manner.
"MADAME DA LUCCA," said Hillsden's clerk, as heushered that lady into the presence of his principal. The bigeyes, the perfect get-up, and the gracious manner, had all donetheir work. When that clerk went home that evening to hissuburban cottage, he thought how common and dowdy his poor littlewife looked, and wondered how he could have thrown himself awayin such a hasty and careless fashion, instead of waiting until hecame across a countess.
The greeting between Hillsden and the lady from the Straitswas cordial enough in its way, but it was not until some time hadelapsed that anything of any interest to this story was enteredon.
"I've taken a fancy to Tom Duckworth," said Madame, at last,leaning back in her chair. "Sorry for Duckworth!" repliedHillsden.
"So am I, if he doesn't do as I want him to do."
"What's that?"
"Never mind; I have a plan of my own."
Hillsden considered a moment.
"I should advise you to leave Duckworth alone; he's too oldand wary a bird, and not the style of fool you are accustomedto."
The big eyes flashed wrath.
"Mr. Hillsden, the fact that you—a man—once tookadvantage of an unprotected girl, does not now entitle you totell me that I am only fit to deal with fools. Let me remind youthat our positions have changed since those days, and that Ifancy I know better than you do what I can or cannot do."
The man addressed looked down, as much abashed as a man likehim could be, and trifled with the papers on his desk. The womanwas magnanimous, and passed on to another subject at once.
"Where is Ras Mahad?"
"I believe, on the north-west coast."
"And you have implicit faith in this story of his that Annetthad these diamonds in his possession when the proa waswrecked?"
"I have, for I have heard from other sources that he obtainedthem from the Rajah of Bamilok."
"And the proa was wrecked?"
"Somewhere on the coast of Timor."
"And Annett is there still? But I can't understandthat—these are not the days of Robinson Crusoe and desertislands."
"That's exactly the puzzle. Annett knows his way about as wellas any one, so I am beginning to think he must be dead."
"And that was all you found out from Ras Mahad?"
"Yes; he spoke bad English, and was very pig-headed; and whenyou get hold of a pig-headed Mahomedan you might as well try toget information from a Chinaman."
"I have come down prepared to supply you with money toprosecute the search for the whereabouts of that diamond-field inBorneo which Annett, dead or alive, got those diamonds from. Thepeople at my back can obtain full concessions from the DutchGovernment. All we want is the locality, and that Annett knows.If he is dead, he has left it behind in his papers for thebenefit of his daughter. By the way, I saw Duckworth at thetheatre, the other night, and he had a young girl with him; Isuppose that was Annett's daughter?"
"Probably; a pretty girl, I understand."
Madame da Lucca's lip curled. "Well, I suppose some peoplemight call her pretty, in a bread-and-butter sort of way; butthat has nothing to do with us. What is the first move to bemade?"
"Find Ras Mahad, and bribe him to tell us where the proa waswrecked."
"And you think you know of his whereabouts, I suppose? Itmeans you having to go to Cossack!"
"And giving up my business here?"
"Now, Mr. Hillsden, do you imagine I am so ignorant as tothink that the business of a general agent in Sydney, just now,means much more than a living?"
Hillsden laughed, but he was not a man who liked a jokeagainst himself, and his laugh was forced. "Of course I am notmaking a princely fortune, but still, things are improving."
"Then let it be understood that you go after this Malay, andsoon, or Duckworth will be before you. We can come to definitearrangements tomorrow or the next day."
Hillsden bowed; all trace of levity had long since vanished."I will try and detain Duckworth, somehow; for, from what he letdrop, I know he is hot on this quest after Annett. By the way,what's the girl's name; do you know?"
"Yes, she was up at Thursday Island as a child; her name isRuth."
At this moment Hillsden's clerk entered with a card."Lestrell," said Hillsden, musingly; "yes, I remember. Ask him towait a few minutes, will you?"
Madame da Lucca rose as the clerk closed the door. "Goodbyefor the present; to-morrow or the next day we will make definitearrangements; you have my address." Hillsden opened the door andshe passed out. In the outer office sat a deeply sun-tanned man.He was goodly to look on, and Madame bestowed an appreciativeglance upon him as the enthralled clerk showed her out.
"Mr. Lestrell, I suppose," she thought, as she descended thestairs. "Now, who is Mr. Lestrell?"
"Well, Mr. Lestrell," said Hillsden, as the latter entered,"how have you been faring since we met in Port Darwin?"
"Hard graft, mostly; away in the centre of Australia. Yougot my letter?"
"Yes, and have made the enquiries you asked me to make. Therehas been no time as yet for a reply from head-quarters; but, fromwhat I can learn locally, it is all O.K.
"I suppose we shall hear soon. I don't expect it will be aparticularly pleasant billet; but at any rate it means change andexperience."
"As I understand it, your prospective contract is to assist atthe coming definition of the exact boundary between the Dutch andPortuguese in Timor?"
"Yes! I go as a neutral to see fair play all around. As theplace is a hot-bed of fever, and the Dutch survey-party and thePortuguese party are sure to quarrel, why, I don't think it willturn out much of a picnic." Hillsden laughed; "Whereabouts do youbegin?" he said, leading his visitor up to one of the maps on thewall.
"Here," returned Lestrell, indicating a position on the WestCoast. Hillsden looked hard at it, and an interested look came inhis eyes. "Well," he said, "I don't envy you the job, but Isuppose the pay is good."
"Yes, but what I want to make sure of is that it will bepaid—that's why I wrote from Adelaide to ask you to makeenquiries. I heard that you had commenced business here."
"I am just about to retire, though. Meanwhile I will doall I can to get you the information wanted. When do youstart?"
"Not for some weeks. Can you give me Duckworth's address? Iheard that he was in Sydney."
"Yes, the E— Hotel; we had lunch together, the otherday."
"Good-bye," said Lestrell, rising to go. "I have got to seeabout rooms. I have some work to complete, and want a couple, oneto work in and one to sleep in, as I work late at night, and Ihate a boarding-house. Which is the best building?"
"Oh! there are whips of them now in Sydney; here, I'llwrite down a few names." He did so, handed it to Lestrell,and the latter left the office.
Hillsden went over to the map and regarded it intently; thenhe sat down and wrote a note. "Take this to Madame da Lucca," hesaid to his clerk.
The note ran: "Never mind Duckworth—Lestrell is yourman. I will undertake that you shall meet him. He is going nearto the very spot, in a few weeks, with two parties of Portugueseand Dutch surveyors, to help to define the exact boundary inTimor between the two nations."
DUCKWORTH and Lestrell had often met and becomerather attracted to each other, their greeting then was cordialin the extreme.
"Are you engaged this evening?" asked Tom.
"No, nothing of any importance."
"Then come out with me. You know my partner Annett, I am goingout to see his sister, who is a great invalid. We will havedinner there, and can discuss this trip of yours. I am greatlyinterested in it, for private reasons."
"Thanks! I'll come; I'll call for you about 5."
"Aunt!" said Ruth that afternoon, "here's a telegram fromUncle Tom; he is coming out to dinner, and is going to bring areal, live man with him."
"I don't suppose he would bring a dead one," returned heraunt.
"I'll have to get something extra of course, and luckily mynew dress came home yesterday."
Lestrell stood in the little drawing room strewn with tropicalcurios. Duckworth had gone out of the room on some errand, for hewas of course free of the house. The door opened and Lestrelllooked up expecting to see him return, but instead of hisweather-beaten face there appeared a perfect Hebe of health andspirits who advanced to greet him by name with a smile ofwelcome.
Lestrell had plenty of self-possession, but for once he wasdisconcerted. "This is a nice trick of master Tom's," he thought,"I'll pay him for it some day."
"Miss Annett?" he asked enquiringly, as he took the hand sheextended to him.
"I am Ruth Annett; Miss Annett is my aunt." This explainedmatters, and when Duckworth returned he found that the ice hadbeen broken in the most satisfactory manner.
Lestrell thought it was the best dinner he had eaten for along time. The sweet-mannered old lady at the head of the table;the brilliant little beauty opposite to him, and his old friendat the foot.
"Have you seen that lady again, uncle?" asked Ruth; "the onethat stared at me so at the theatre."
"I called as I promised, but she was out, and I am not sorry;she is certainly handsome enough, and her eyes cannot be beaten;but I have no desire to keep up the acquaintance."
"Who is the lady under discussion?" asked Miss Annett.
"A Madame da Lucca, from Singapore," answered Tom shortly,evidently wanting to drop the subject.
"Tennyson's words fit her exactly," went on Ruth unheeding: "Aqueen with swarthy cheeks and bold black eyes."
Lestrell looked up quickly. "Strange, when I was at Hillsden'soffice a lady came out who honoured me with a very decided stare;and the same quotation came into my head."
"Hillsden's office?" mused Tom, "then ten chances to one itwas the same woman. I hope Hillsden's not a friend of yours,for I have no opinion of him."
"Scarcely an acquaintance, but I heard he was in business hereand wrote to him asking him to make certain enquiries forme."
"Concerning this trip?"
"Yes, I wanted to find out who were the responsible partieshere, to guarantee the money."
"We must have a yarn about this presently, but Ruth won't letus talk shop now."
The dinner finished successfully; and then Tom and the guestadjourned to the little den; formerly sacred to Ruth's father,and lit their cigars.
"Now," commenced Duckworth, "I have strong reasons for askingthese questions, so don't think me curious or impertinent. Youtold Hillsden the spot in Timor you were about to visit?"
"I did, showed it to him on the map."
"Did he appear interested?"
"Come to think of it—he did."
"Ruth's father was wrecked somewhere on that part of the coastwe have reason to believe. He was in a native proa at the time,but our information is of the vaguest. One of the Malays wasafterwards in Hillsden's employ at Darnley Island, and we believethat Hillsden found out something about it, for a foolish yarnthat at the time, Annett had a valuable parcel of diamonds withhim, began to float about the Straits. Mind you I do not creditone word of it, but unfortunately it was sufficient to makeHillsden keep back from us the information he hadreceived—more or less—as to the locality of thewreck. This man Ras Mahad has since gone away; I believe Hillsdenhas an idea where he is, but no money to follow the thingup."
"But if your partner's brother is in Timor why does he notcommunicate with you? Timor is not such an outlandish place."
"That is the mystery, and I am afraid points to his death.Now, if it is to be a duel between us, why we have a card up oursleeve that Hillsden knows nothing of. Annett and I picked up anabandoned proa once when we were out with the schooner off CapeWessel. On board was a young Malay, half or nearly quite starved.We rescued him and took him to our station on Friday Island, andfrom there he went to the nor' west. After he had gone we foundout that he was another of the survivors of the wrecked proa. Hewas a bright boy when he pulled round, and the other fellow wassullen and morose, and above all Hillsden knows nothing aboutthis boy. I intend to take the schooner and go round to try andfind him before long, so we may yet meet in Timor. Now, will youhelp us to find Ruth's father?"
"Will I!" cried Lestrell, jumping up in his emphasis, "withmy last drop of blood! Perhaps, had he not met Ruth the replywould have been somewhat more moderate and less romantic."
The two shook hands, and Duckworth took up the tale again, "Iam almost certain that it was this Madame da Lucca you saw inHillsden's office, if so, it means mischief. They have been incommunication before, and she has brought down the needfulmoney."
"Hillsden told me he was about to give up his business."
"That's it!" shouted Tom.
"It can't be only a coincidence. We must act at once. ThankHeaven I met you, for you will help us and not them."
"I will do anything and everything I can."
"I know that; I must go north again, but we will have a longtalk before I leave. Now let us go back, if you've finished yourcigar. Miss Annett, I know, wants to have a quiet talk with you.She was very fond of her brother. He was a rambling fellow, quiteunlike my steady-going self, so of course all the women of thefamily worshipped him."
While Lestrell was telling Miss Annett of the purpose of hiscoming trip, Ruth put her uncle Tom through a severecross-examination as to Lestrell and all about him. It was latefor that quiet household before he left, and it was with manypromises of more visits before starting that he said farewell tohis hostess, who, now that she knew he was to be associated inthe search for her brother, wished to show him that she did notregard him as an ordinary visitor. Tom left his friend at histemporary lodgings at the hotel, and Lestrell went to the smokingroom to consume a last cigar and meditate on the first girl'sface that had ever dwelt long in his memory. Passing the letterrack he looked there and found a letter that had come during hisabsence. It ran:
Dear Lestrell,
Will you come to my office at 11.30 tomorrow? Ihave some special business to see you about in connection withyour visit to Timor, which has cropped up since we met. TrustingI am not interfering with any prior engagement by this request, Iam, etc., yours truly,
J.F. Hillsden.
Lestrell read the note deliberately, then he smiled somewhatcynically. Duckworth was right after all, he thought. FortunatelyI have the run of the cards. Fancy having to take sides againstthat girl! But I'll keep the appointment! Needless to say that'that girl' was Ruth Annett. Hillsden's note brought Madame daLucca back that afternoon.
"Is that the man I saw in the front office?" she askedeagerly.
"It is," he replied, "and we must have him on our side, and ifnecessary, take him partly into our confidence."
"How am I to get to know him?"
"That's it; let me think it out. Have your people no interestsin Dilli that you can ask him to enquire about coffeeplantations, or anything; say you heard from me that he was goingon an important mission."
"That will do capitally. I only want to know him, and I willwin him to our interests. Does he know Duckworth?"
"Yes, well; he has gone to see him this afternoon."
"Did you give him the address?"
"Certainly."
"Hills-den!" cried the woman rising in a rage from herchair.
"You are a fool! Why, he will learn all from him, meet and seethat namby-pamby niece, learn that it is her father who ismissing. We are too late."
"I should have been a fool not to give it when someone wouldprobably have run against Duckworth in the street and learnt fromhim what I knew all the time," returned Hillsden hotly. Madame daLucca paced up and down the room in intense anger. At last shestopped, having evidently put some constraint on herself.
"She has got the start," she muttered to herself, "but therewill perhaps be more pleasure in the chase, after all. Hillsden,I apologise; carry out the idea you proposed just now. Write andask this man Lestrell here at, say, half past 11 to-morrowmorning. I will be here and have a good yarn ready."
She left the room without waiting for him to open thedoor.
"Phew! she's a terror," muttered the ex-pearl sheller. "Wonderwhy she is so madly jealous of this little girl? Lestrell isgoing to have stormy weather of it, whether he will or whether hewon't, but it's no business of mine, that part of it;" and he satdown and wrote the note.
TOM DUCKWORTH had just finished his breakfastand was meditating on the day's work before him, when Lestrellcame in to the smoking-room where he was enjoying his firstcigar.
"You were a true prophet, old man," Lestrell said, drawing achair beside him, and handing him Hillsden's note. "That does notrequire much reading between the lines."
Duckworth glanced over it. "This means fight," he said. "Imust go back by the first boat, and Annett and I will take theschooner round to the nor' west at once and secure that boy Itold you of. They are welcome to Ras Mahad. I'll be there first,or my name is not Tom Duckworth."
"But how am I to act?" asked Lestrell. "I intend to keep theappointment this morning, but what to do or say I have notdetermined."
"Now you get into questions of diplomacy beyond my humblecapacity. I know what would be the best thing to do, but it's thekind of work that neither of us are cut out for."
"You mean, pretend to fall in with her views and get her toconfide them to you—under false pretences, shall wesay?"
"That's it. That's what Hillsden would do, and that's what sheintends to do with you, if she can, but I know very well, it'swhat you can't do."
"I think I'll keep clear altogether; send an excuse thismorning."
"No. This is quite open and honest on your part, you simply gothere to find out what they want to see you about. I see nothingunderhand about that, so far."
"Very well, I'll face the enemy, and you—you oldpoltroon, are going to run away."
"To fight another day," laughed Tom. "Now, look here,—Ithink you can take care of yourself, but, Madame da Lucca ismarked dangerous."
"If she makes eyes at me again, like she did the other day inHillsden's office, I should most decidedly think so."
"Well, well, old man, I don't suppose, at your age, you objectto a little mild flirtation with a pretty woman?"
"Perhaps not, once, at present I do." (He did not even own tohimself that it was since he met Ruth.) "Mild flirtation, indeed!there would be nothing mild with her, if I'm a judge ofcharacter. However, I'll bell the cat, and report progress; youcan't leave for a day or two."
A couple of hours later, Lestrell was seated in Hillsden'soffice. "My client, Madame da Lucca, is interested, through herhusband, in some extensive coffee-plantations in Timor; there hasbeen some difficulty out there, lately, and hearing of yourintended trip, she wishes to see you before you leave; in fact,she might come in at any moment."
"What can I do in the matter? I fail to see."
"Just oblige her by making enquiries when you are at Dilli, onone or two points which she will supply you with."
"Madame da Lucca!" said the doubly enthralled clerk, openingthe door.
Hillsden and Lestrell rose.
"You are Mr. Lestrell," she said, approaching him withoutwaiting for Hillsden to mention his name, and she held out a handof welcome, while Hillsden placed a chair for her.
Lestrell could not fail to be struck by her beauty, and amagnetic charm in her manner; but the thought that flashedthrough his brain was: "I am glad I met Ruth Annett first."
"So you are going to Timor, Mr. Lestrell. Have you been therebefore?"
"No, New Guinea has been my limit."
"There is lovely scenery in Timor. I was there once, but it isvery unhealthy; are you fever-proof?"
"Well, I ought to be, but no one can say for certain. Hillsdensaid there was some little service I might be able to render youout there. If so, believe me I shall be most happy to do anythingin my power."
"When do you think of starting, Mr. Lestrell?"
"Not for some weeks."
"I am expecting some letters down shortly, giving me fullerdetails on the subject; probably to-morrow morning. Would youfind it too much trouble to call and see me tomorrow afternoon?"and she turned a full broadside on him.
"Mr. Hillsden has my address," she said, as she gave him herhand again, and a distinct pressure with it; then the misguidedclerk showed her out.
"Who is Madame da Lucca?"
Lestrell said suddenly to Hillsden.
"Her husband is a very wealthy Portuguese merchant inSingapore."
"Considerably older than herself, I should imagine?"
"A natural guess, and a true one. Those kind of gorgeous womenalways do marry old men, and very sensible they are to do it, forthey get their own way, then; and I need scarcely tell you thatMadame da Lucca will have her own way. What do you think ofher?"
"Physically, she is a most beautiful creature; spiritually, Ithink, when, as you say, she could not get her own way, she couldbe a devil. Now give me the address, for although I shall bepretty busy, I will call and see her."
"Have you got rooms yet?" asked Hillsden as he left.
"Yes, I have taken two in Sonaro Chambers. One is a large,well-lighted room, just suited for my work. I shall shift mytraps in probably this afternoon. Good-bye."
Hillsden commenced arranging his papers. "It strikes me," hethought, "that Madame will run against a snag this time,and—I'm d—d glad of it." He snapped this outviciously; then he called in the clerk and told him that in aweek's time he would be leaving the office and throwing up thebusiness—ruthlessly thus dragging down that youth fromvisions of lovely women with flashing dark eyes, to the prosaicreality that in a week he would be out of a billet.
Lestrell had promised to lunch with Duckworth, and he wentstraight to Tom's hotel, but Tom was out, and did not turn upuntil nearly one o'clock.
"I have had a wire from my partner," he said; "sent toCooktown by the steamer following mine. He was taken very illimmediately after I left, and the doctor has ordered him south atonce. I can't stop to meet him; we shall probably cross eachother on the way, for I must not miss the fine weather and getcaught in one of those nor'-west hurricanes. However, you will behere. You know Annett, and he knows you, so you will be able toconfer together as well as you and I. Now, how did you get onthis morning?"
"I'm blessed if I know. Between ourselves, I believe she hasno more interest in coffee-plantations in Timor than I have. Sheexpects letters down, and wants me to call to-morrow afternoon.Nothing definite."
Tom pushed his plate away with a jerk. "Have you finished?Come into the smoking-room. I can't talk amongst all thisclatter. There'll be nobody in there, now."
Duckworth lit his cigar.
"Madame wants to get you alone for some purpose, and it's myopinion that she'll tell you some garbled story about Annett. Shedoes not want information about coffee-plantations; she wants tomake a fool of you, so that, if you hear anything of Annett andthese precious diamonds—rot them!—you will tell her.Did she make eyes at you again?"
Lestrell laughed. "Yes, I think she makes eyes at everybody;it's second nature."
"First nature, my boy. But you won't lose your head, willyou?"
"Not to Madame da Lucca, at any rate. I can't answer foranother woman when my time comes."
"It hasn't come yet, at any rate," said unsuspecting Tom.
"Mine came many, many years ago. Who do you think was thewoman, Lestrell?"
"I cannot guess, old fellow." Duckworth took his cigar fromhis mouth, and his eyes grew dreary; a new light illumined hisrugged features. "You would scarcely think that Miss Annett wasonce as pretty as Ruth is now?"
"I can; she has a good face, a kind face, like one whom somegreat sorrow has once stricken."
"You are right," and Tom laid his hand on his friend's knee."She is not old in years, although she looks it. I was too late,too late! You understand her love had been given already."
"And he proved unworthy and broke her heart?"
"No, Lestrell, no! She could never love an unworthy man; herinstincts are too pure and true. You remember the wreck of theBarcelona?"
"I do; an awful wreck it was."
"He was chief officer, and went down doing his duty to the last.It was a terrible shock; it aged her prematurely, and she has been aninvalid ever since. But we are true friends, I am proud to say, and, iftrouble came, which God forbid, she knows that I am at her service withall I have." Tom leaned back in his chair and smoked vigorously for awhile.
"Enough of this," he said suddenly. "What are you doing thisafternoon?"
"I was thinking of fixing up my rooms. I must buy sometrestles for my work, etc., and a few things for my bedroom."
"I'll come and help you. It will do me good, and, between us,we'll soon straighten the place out. Then, come out with me todinner. I go out there every evening when I am in town. They leada very quiet, retired life."
"I will come with the greatest pleasure," returned Lestrell Hedid not ask where?—but there was no need, although Tom hadnot mentioned a name. When Lestrell and Tom returned togetherthat night, Duckworth thought him the most unsociable companionhe had had for a long time. When he did speak, he answered atrandom.
LESTRELL guessed that his visit was reckonedupon as a certainty when he went, the next afternoon, to thehotel Madame patronised, for he was at once ushered up to hersitting-room. She was dressed in a loose gown, plain, butevidently expensive, and had just enough jewellery on for effect.The sleeves were short enough and loose enough to show therounded arm, tapering to the wrist, set off by a single plainbracelet. Her eyes had lost the hard look that often marred theirradiance, and were as soft and shy as a timid girl's. Theresemblance was heightened when a slight flush came to her faceas she greeted her guest with a smile.
"Dangerous, indeed," thought Lestrell as he sat down. Oneglance round had shown him that the conventional furniture of thehotel sitting-room had been entirely changed in appearance by theaddition of rare and curious knicknacks, evidently the propertyof Madame da Lucca, and making an appropriate background to herwarm beauty.
"Fancy, Mr. Lestrell! Those bothering letters have neverturned up, after all, and I have brought you here for nothing."Lestrell told the conventional lie that she evidently expected,and she went on.
"However, I'll try and make some amends. Do you drinktea?"
"Of course. I am a bushman, and tea is the national beveragein the bush."
"Is it? I only know Australian cities; I have never been inthe bush. As you are a tea-drinker I will give you a treat; somevery special tea I brought down myself, and which you could notbuy in Sydney."
She touched the knob of the bell close to her, and amaid-servant shortly entered—evidently also Madame'sprivate property. She received a few instructions and left.
"Now, Mr. Lestrell, when the tea comes we will have a chatabout Timor. I have a story to tell you, but I always feel moreeloquent when I have a cup of tea before me; it seems to do awaywith a lot of formality."
"I quite agree with you," returned Lestrell. "We are onlysavages, after all, and eating and drinking together are oursigns of amity, as it is with them."
"When one man meets another after a long separation it is theinvariable formula to go and have a drink together, is itnot?"
"I verily believe it is," he replied.
"Then I shall regard this cup of tea as a sign of amitybetween us for the future."
As she spoke, the maid came in with the beverage, and, afterplacing it on a small table convenient to her mistress, left theroom.
Lestrell rose and went over to take his cup from her, and henoticed that the set was of the most delicate Japanese ware,that, even in that country of cheap commodities, must have costmoney. There was some wafer bread-and-butter, and he took aslice.
"Ah!" said Madame, when he had resumed his seat; "they putsalt in butter, don't they."
"I believe it is an essential."
"Then, we have eaten salt together, and now I will tell youthe story I promised to. Some years ago, a nephew of myhusband's, who did a good deal of his business, travellingamongst the Islands of the Straits, disappeared. We could gain notidings of him anywhere, although my husband used every means hecould think of. Latterly we heard that he was last heard of onboard of a proa, which proa was, we have reason to believe,wrecked on the coast of Timor. Now, Mr. Lestrell, comes in thestrange part. On that same proa was Mr. Reginald Annett, thebrother of Mr. Duckworth's partner. You see I am perfectly plainwith you, for I know that Mr. Duckworth has been cold to melately, and the only reason I can think of is that the supposes Ihave information about Annett which I have kept from him. Truly,Mr. Lestrell, I know no more than he does. You are the man whowill probably solve the mystery of the disappearance of both men.And I want you to promise me this: if you hear any tidings of myhusband's nephew, or of Annett—for the chances are that thetwo are together—nay! you might say it is acertainty—will you let me know at the earliest opportunity.I will give you a certain address which will speedily find me. Myhusband is very fond of this nephew, and I am anxious on hisaccount."
During this communication Lestrell felt as though he shouldlike to get up and run for it, as it dawned upon him, what anartful trap he was caught in. He no more believed in the mythicalnephew than he did in the coffee-plantations. He was being led onto promise to let her know about Annett, if he came across him.She was looking at him somewhat anxiously.
"If I hear of anybody on Timor who is likely to be yourhusband's nephew, you may be sure, Madame da Lucca, that I willlet you know as soon as ever I can."
"But I am sure that he and Annett will be together," she said;"if you hear of one, it will mean the other. Will you not alsolet me know if you have tidings of Annett?"
She rose from her seat; Lestrell rose too, and they stoodclose to each other.
"We have eaten bread and salt together," she went on in avoice, every word of which sounded like a caress. She held outher hand, which he took in his, and she let it remain there."What reason can there be for you to refuse me this?"
The soft, luminous eyes looked up into his, and the roundedform seemed swaying towards him, as if to meet the expectedembrace, while the hand he held—a warm, soft, but firmhand, one that is good to hold—sent a magnetic thrillthrough him. One short week ago, and he would have taken her inhis arms and promised everything, but now—he raised herhand and kissed it.
"Rest assured, Madame da Lucca, that anything I can do for youin this matter, I will do."
"You will come and see me to-morrow afternoon, will you not? Imay have my letters by then," she almost whispered.
"I will come," he said hastily, and the next moment the doorclosed behind him.
The woman he had left paced up and down the room.
"Nine men out of ten would have been at my feet," she murmuredto herself. "He is the tenth, and I will take him away from thatbaby-faced doll, I swear." She lifted her hand and kissed theplace which Lestrell's lips had touched, as if to seal heroath.
"How on earth did I get out of that fix?" thought Lestrell, ashe walked away quickly.
"I didn't promise anything definite, and I only kissed herhand—that doesn't count for much."
The hotel where Duckworth was staying was on his road, and hemet Tom coming out.
"Come into the bar," he said, "I want some whisky."
They went in together.
"That's a good stiff nip for you, Lestrell," said Duckworth,looking at his companion's glass. "What's the matter?"
"I've been having afternoon tea with Madame da Lucca, and shenearly got the best of me."
"What's the game, now?"
"O, there's a nephew adrift—a nephew of herhusband's—adrift somewhere in the Straits, and she thinks Imay hear of him. Madame is quite convinced that he is withAnnett, and that he was wrecked on the same proa, so, if I hearof either of them, she wants me to promise faithfully that I willat once communicate with her."
"Rather transparent. I wonder such a clever woman could nothave invented something more plausible."
"So do I; but that was the tale she told."
"How did you get out of the fix?"
"I kissed her hand, and vowed that anything I could do toassist her to find this non-existent nephew, I would do. Then Ibolted."
Tom Duckworth laughed heartily. "She had you in a tight place,old man; I suppose the eyes were well to the fore?"
"Here, you go and see her yourself, and you'll find it nolaughing matter."
"No thanks; I'm out of it. Annett ought to be down here in afew days, but I expect my steamer will leave before he arrives.Now I've got my hands more than full for the whole time, before Ileave."
"I must go to work, too, for my appointment might arrive atany moment."
"Will you come out with me, to-night?"
"Don't you think that it looks rather too much liketrespassing on Miss Annett's good nature?" asked Lestrell,hypocritically.
"Not at all! You are one of us—bound on the same quest.Besides, I know she likes you."
"At that rate, I'll come," and Lestrell wondered if the nieceshared her aunt's sentiments.
Poor Madame da Lucca, if she could have but guessed howutterly and completely she was forgotten when Ruth was present,she would have had a bad night; but, as it was, she flatteredherself that she had had the best of the skirmish, and her dreamswere dreams of victory.
Far away on a northern island, the man whose whereabouts wasso urgently sought for by two conflicting parties—oneinspired by love, the other by avarice—was living in anative village, struck down, first by sun and fever, then by abrain attack that left him almost a mental wreck, with but dimmemories of the past floating through his confused brain.
In the little village nestling at the foot of a jagged peakone of the highest in the range that may be said to form theisland of Timor, he spent his time mostly in wandering about,talking to himself. The little brown children were not afraid ofhim; the women, in their white kabayas and gay sarongs, spokekindly to him. The men, as they came home from their work amongstthe bread-fruit and cocoa-nut patches, did the same. He was quietand harmless, and the villagers were rather proud of the madwhite man who lived amongst them in one of the thatched houseswith long roofs reaching nearly to the ground.
The feathery-foliaged bamboos were everywhere; the cocoa-nutpalms and bread-fruit trees lent their aid to the vivid color ofthe jungle which flourished to the foot of the peak, and then,changing to low scrub, climbed up the lofty sides to the top.
A tiny, semi-circular bay, protected by a reef, lay in frontof the little village; inside, the sands were yellow and thewater blue and still. Outside, long rollers that looked as thoughthey must have travelled all the way from distant Flores,shattered themselves in clouds of white spray. Here, on one wildnight of storm, the proa containing Annett and four Malays, washurled ruthlessly to destruction. Fortunately all, with oneexception, were carried over the reef into the quiet bay, andswam ashore. When the storm lulled and the tide was low, Annettwas able to recover most of his things from the wreck, which hadlodged on the highest part of the reef.
The Malays made their way to the nearest Portuguesesettlement, but the Englishman, with his rambling spirit strongin him, determined to investigate the range at the back.
The friendly villagers tried hard to dissuade him, telling himof the wild hillmen who lived there and who would have his head.He went, and three weeks afterwards came back, gaunt, haggard,and in the incipient delirium of fever. Of what he had gonethrough he was never able to tell. The women nursed him throughhis long illness, and, when he recoverd, his mind was unhinged.He had no desire to leave the place, no wish for anything. In away he was contented. Thus was living Ruth's father.
TOM DUCKWORTH was a man who hated anythingapproaching humbug. The conventional 'seeing a man off' wasespecially abhorrent to him. Therefore, when he stepped off thegangway on to the deck of the steamer, he was not worried byhaving to say good-bye to half a dozen acquaintances, nor had anycause to trouble his head as to whether it was the first, second,or third bell that was ringing. Having seen everything ship-shapein his cabin, he went on deck and took possession of a canvaschair in a retired spot on the poop whence he could amuse himselfwatching the bustle below.
The first person to attract his attention was Hillsden, and itwas evident from the luggage a porter carried on board after him,that he was a passenger. "Things are growing interesting,"thought Tom; "there's no handicapping in this race." He was oftoo even a temperament to disturb himself much, and he alsoconsoled himself with the thought that his schooner would beready to start at a moment's notice, whereas Hillsden would haveto hire and fit out a boat. "Whether or no," he concluded in hisown mind, "they know nothing about Djuran, and he is the one Iwant."
The second bell rang, and Hillsden was plainly in a state ofimpatience about something—walking up and down the deck,and casting impatient glances on the wharf. Presently a cab droveup, and a lady got out and walked up the gangway-plank. She wasplainly dressed, but Tom knew her at a glance—Madame daLucca! She took a turn or two up and down the deck with Hillsden,and then she said good-bye and went ashore. It was not until thesteamer was well down the harbour that Tom made his presenceknown to Hillsden.
"You didn't stop long in Sydney;" remarked Hillsden somewhatviciously, for Tom's presence annoyed him.
"No; Annett is ill and is coming south, so I must getback."
"Oh, well; I'm glad to have an old friend on board. I think weare going to have a fine trip."
They had a fine trip, but when they reached Thursday IslandTom was chagrined to find that Hillsden was as ready to start ashe was, having wired up and made the necessary arrangements for aschooner. The two boats left nearly at the same time, and, withthe steady wind that was blowing, kept company all the way acrossthe mouth of the Gulf. Nearly five days after Duckworth'sdeparture, Annett arrived, much to Lestrell's satisfaction, forduring those few days he had had no excuse for calling at thecottage. Annett was really ill, and took up his residence there,and Lestrell found it necessary to go out and consult him often.He had determined to ask the important question at the firstfavourable opportunity, and as, in the absence of her father,Annett was her natural guardian, he had every hope he would atonce gain his consent.
Meanwhile, his acquaintanceship with Madame da Lucca wasmaintained, more by her than by him, for Lestrell skilfullyevaded all tender scenes, and thereby increased the passion ofthe self-willed woman, who justly ascribed her failure to win himto the influence of Ruth, and her hatred of the girl, whom sheonly knew by sight, grew in intensity.
The time for Lestrell's departure was drawing nigh, and he hadreceived his commission from the two governments.
"Auntie," said Ruth one day coming into her room, kneelingbeside her, and half hiding her face in her lap; "Mr. Lestrellhas asked me to marry him." Her aunt put her hand down and triedto turn the girl's flushed face up to the light, but Ruthresisted.
"I knew it was bound to come, sooner or later. What did yousay to him in reply?"
"I believe I said 'Yes.'"
"Where is Mr. Lestrell now?"
"He is talking to Uncle, and I suppose it's about me."
"I think everybody will agree that it is suitable;" said MissAnnett. "But you have trouble and anxiety before you, he is goingon a dangerous mission, and women can only stay at home andwait," and her voice trembled as her thoughts went back to thegallant young lover of her youth, who went down at his post onthe sinking ship. The tears sprang into Ruth's eyes as her auntlaid her hand caressingly on her head; but, before they couldindulge in the luxury of much sentiment, there was a knock at thedoor and Annett's voice was heard asking if he could enter.
"So, this girl has told you I suppose, that Lestrell wants torun away with her?" he said, as he advanced.
"Not for a long time," cried Ruth indignantly.
"Long or short, I have given my consent; what do you say?" andhe put his hand on his sister's shoulder.
"I like Lestrell, and think he will make our girl a goodhusband."
"Then that settles it. Lestrell is not a poor man now, andthis trip will put him almost at the top of his profession. He'snot gone yet, so perhaps you might run down and tell him thatyour aunt approves. I want to speak to her alone."
Ruth got up, went up to her uncle and kissed him, then seemedto vanish from the room in some mysterious way other thanwalking.
"It will be a long and trying engagement for Ruth," said MissAnnett.
"All the better. They have not known each other very long, andit will show what stuff they are made of."
"I can answer for Ruth, but you men have no sentiment."Lestrell, waiting in the room used as a sort of writing-room oroffice, heard the door open, and, turning, saw Ruth enter shyly,with the answer he wanted written on her face. Annett allowedthem a reasonable time before he followed her.
"I feel better, Lestrell," he said, "and intend to take Ruthinto town to-morrow. Perhaps we might drop in on you."
"What time do you think you will be in?" asked Lestrell,eagerly.
"Oh, any time; we intend to catch you unawares. Now you hadbetter stop to dinner." Lestrell was hard at work the next dayfinishing up his plans, spread over the deal boards on thetrestles, when a knock came to the door, and, in answer to hisinvitation to enter, Annett and Ruth came in. After the greetingwas over she looked curiously round her lover's work-room, andasked questions about the instruments he was using. An hour soonslipped by, then Annett, looking at his watch, said, "how far isit from here to the steamer-office?"
"Not very far. By the way, I ought to go there, myself, andsee about my passage."
"Well, walk down with me. We'll leave Ruth in charge."
"You won't mind stopping here, will you?" asked Lestrell. "Ofcourse not; run away you two!"
Left to herself, Ruth leaned back in her chair, and was soonlost in a girls' happy daydream. A sharp, imperative knock at thedoor aroused her, but whoever it was opened the door and came in,without waiting for an invitation. It was a woman—thedark-eyed woman Ruth had seen at the theatre.
She gave a decided start of surprise at seeing Ruth there,alone; then she advanced into the room. "I wish to see Mr.Lestrell," she said, "I have some business with him." She spokein a strangely constrained voice, as though some emotion wasrampant within her breast.
"Mr. Lestrell is out, but he will be back very shortly."
The woman came a little nearer, and her eyes gleamedvindictively as she noticed the undeniable charm of Ruth's freshyoung face.
"You are Miss Annett, are you not?"
"Ruth inclined her head."
"Is it usual for young ladies to visit men in their privaterooms?"
Ruth sprang up with a crimson face. "You must be a wickedwoman," she said, indignantly.
"I came here with my uncle, and Mr. Lestrell and he are outtogether and will return together."
Madame da Lucca allowed a sneer to be visible on her face.
"It looks very much like hunting the poor man down."
Ruth was quite calm now; she was not going to let this womangain any advantage through loss of temper. "Mr. Lestrell and Iare engaged to be married," she said simply.
Madame da Lucca sprang forward, and Ruth thought she was aboutto strike her. Madame turned white to the lips and her dark eyesshot fire.
"You lie," she cried.
Ruth sat down again without deigning to answer.
"When did this take place?"
"I cannot recognise your right to ask such a question. You area perfect stranger to me. May I ask, since you have such a niceregard for appearances, how it is that you come up here toLawrence's room, alone?"
The two shots went home, especially the use of the familiarChristian name. Ruth was one of the best-natured of girls, butshe possessed all a woman's perception of how to sting anotherwoman.
Madame glared with anger, and, if a weapon had been handy,there is no knowing what the furious woman might have done in herrage and disappointment. By an astonishing effort she regainedher calmness. "Kindly tell Mr. Lestrell," she said, haughtily,"that Madame da Lucca called to see him on the business he knowsof." She stopped at the door. Ruth sat without a word. "MissAnnett, let me tell you one thing. You will never marry LawrenceLestrell;" and the door closed on her.
"That's a sweet-tempered woman," thought Ruth, "but I don'tthink she got the best of it."
Soon afterwards her uncle and Lestrell returned.
"A lady called to see you, Lawrence," she said. "A Madame daLucca; said she called on the business you know of." Lestrellfrowned.
"Confound the woman," he said, "It's this person who isbacking-up Hillsden," he went on to Annett. "She gives me nopeace in her endeavours to make me promise that I will inform herof your brother's whereabouts, if I hear of it, but I didn't knowthat she knew where I lived. I suppose Hillsden must have toldher."
"It's this stupid yarn about the diamonds, that's making allthe mischief. They're welcome to any my brother's got."
"How did you get on together, Ruth?" asked Lestrell.
"She was excessively rude; but don't trouble—she onlycame off second best; and, Lawrence, I'm not jealous at such ahandsome woman coming to your room, although I know I ought tobe," and she slipped her hand affectionately through her lover'sarm. Annett turned round and coughed, and Lestrell stooped downand kissed her.
"Now," said Annett, "I feel like going home; are you comingout to dinner, Lestrell?"
"Yes, if you let me come away directly afterwards. I must getthrough with this work."
"Ruth!" he said, jokingly, as they were preparing to leave,"Have you taken my keys?"
"No, Lawrence."
"I am sure I left them on the table; but I won't keep you; Imust chance it, and leave my door unlocked."
IT was about 9 o'clock that evening whenLestrell returned to his room. He found the door on the latch, ashe had left it, went in, turned up the gas and lit it. The lightillumined the room with a sudden glare, and he started withsurprise.
In the chair occupied that day by Ruth, sate a woman, whothrew her veil back and rose up. Madame da Lucca again!
"How did you come here, Madame, and why have you come?" healmost stammered. "I took your keys when I was here thisafternoon and you were out, in case the door was locked." Shethrew the bunch ringing on the table.
"I heard you were here this afternoon; what was the importantbusiness, Madame da Lucca?"
"To see you. Did that girl tell you what I said to her?"
"That girl is Miss Ruth Annett, my promised wife, and shesaid nothing of what passed, beyond that your were somewhat outspoken." Lestrell's face hardened like flint as he saidthis.
"It is true, then, that you are engaged to be married?"
"It is quite true."
"Listen, Lawrence," she said, advancing to him and puttingboth hands on his arm. "What can this school-child be to a manlike you? What can she have in common with you? Leave her!I—I—God help me, who have always been used to menbegging love from me, now beg it from you."
"This is madness, Lena," answered Lestrell. "A man has manyfancies in his life, but only one real and unswerving love,and mine is given beyond recall to—"
"Ruth Annett," she interrupted.
He did not answer, but turned and looked out of the window.The street was deserted and silent. In the distance some poorwoman, with a voice that had seen better days, was singing foralms. "Carissima!"—the sad refrain seemed to weave itselfin his brain with the memory of the distant chant of the blacks,the night he obtained the Moccasins of Silence. Lena da Lucca wasstanding silent beside him, her hand in his. Suddenly she felt aconvulsive clutch.
"What is it, Lawrence?" she asked.
"Blood," he answered, as if speaking in a dream. "Blood,everywhere; do you not see it staining everything?"
"See it?" she answered; "yes, I see it, and—Oh, God! itis mine—my blood!" and she shuddered and drew back. Heput his arm round her, thinking she was about to faint, butshe repulsed and held him off.
"Mine! mine!" she wailed, "and it is you—you—whowill shed it! The one man I ever loved will slay me. I see itall!"
"Lena! Lena!" he said, recovering himself and trying to sootheher; and now she yielded herself to him, and hid her face in hisbreast as though to shut out some vision of overwhelminghorror.
"It is gone," she said at last, looking up at him with eyessoft and lustrous as the star of eve. "I do not believe it.Although your love is given to another, your hand, dearest, couldnever deal death to me."
For a moment he forgot himself. He took the pleading,beautiful face in both his hands and passionately kissed theeager lips.
Ruth never heard of that one kiss.
"Come!" she whispered to him with a voice full of love'sfascination; "let us go together, far away from this hateful cityto the lovely seas of the East Give up your appointment; give upthat girl; I am rich enough for both. I have just heard of myhusband's death, and he has left me all. What love can she giveyou, compared to mine? Lawrence, I! the proudest woman up there,will be your servant and your slave."
In the agony of her supplication and the utter abandonment ofpride, she had dropped on her knees at his feet. He caught her bythe hands and raised her up.
"It is impossible—impossible, Lena!"
"Impossible?" she asked, and her eyes had the pleading look ofa wounded bird.
"Impossible," he answered.
"Hold me in your arms, then, just for a moment, that I mayfancy, even for those few seconds, that it is my rightfulplace."
She was silent as she nestled in his embrace, and through theopen window came the mournful refrain of thestreet-singer—"Carissima!"
"Now, Mr. Lestrell," she said, suddenly disengaging herself,"we will leave off this fooling. Richard's himself again!" Shelaughed lightly, and with that laugh the shadows of blood andterror that had gathered round the pair, seemed to draw offsomewhat, but still they lurked ominously near.
"I will go, and, in the future, although we may be on oppositesides, we are—friends!" She held out her firm, warm hand,and he took it as he would that of a fellow-man.
"I should like something of your's, in case we never meetagain," she went on. "Can I have anything I take a fancy to?"
"Certainly; but there is little here to take a lady'sfancy."
She glanced around, There were a few aboriginal weapons andother things hung around on the walls.
"What are these?" she asked stepping towards them and takingdown the Moccasins of Silence.
He sprang forward excitedly. "No, Lena—not those; forGod's sake, not those!"
She held them behind her.
"That, of course, determines me. What is the reason of this,Mr. Lestrell?"
He saw the mistake he had made, but could do nothing but tellher of the death of the rain-maker, and the ominous cursepronounced on the objects she held.
"What was the formula, in English?" she asked. "Once shallthese be wet with blood, Twice shall they be wet with blood, Thethird time it will be the blood of the wearer."
"Once, then, they have been wet with blood?"
"Twice," he replied. "The stuff that binds the sole of emufeathers together is mixed with human blood."
"And the third time it is to be the blood of the wearer? Mr.Lestrell, I intend to keep these queer slippers, and, as no onebut myself shall ever wear them, I am afraid the oldmedicine-man's prophecy will prove untrue. And now,good-bye."
"I will see you home, or to a cab. It is late."
He put on his hat, and they went down-stairs, and into thequiet street.
"Let us walk," said Madame. It was a silent enough walk, forneither felt that they could touch on ordinary topics, and whenthey reached the hotel, they parted, also in silence; and thenext time Lestrell saw those passionate eyes that looked so longand lovingly into his, it was in strange company in a strangeland!
"I hope that chapter in my life is turned down for good,"thought Lestrell, as he strolled back to his chambers. He hadlittle trouble to guess at Madame da Lucca's past career; but,for all that, he felt kindly disposed towards her. What man wouldnot, to a beautiful woman who had fallen in love with him andtold him so?
Lestrell worked late that night, or rather far into the nextmorning; then he threw himself down on his bed for a few hour'ssleep. After a bath and breakfast he went steadily to work again,and in the evening paid his now accustomed visit to thecottage.
The time for his departure was rapidly drawing near, and poorRuth, transformed from a happy, careless girl to a loving woman,began to feel some of the pain of the approaching separation.
"My dear Ruth," said her uncle, one day after she had beentalking of the dangers attendant on her lover's mission, "that isthe very reason that he will come back safely. It's not ondangerous expeditions that men lose their lives, because theytake precious good care to look after themselves. It's whenyou're thinking yourself quite safe that your time comesunexpectedly. If you persuaded Lestrell to give it up and stayhere, he would probably be mixed up in the first railway accidentthat occurred, or run over by a runaway cab, or something of thatsort."
Ruth, however, had not sufficient practical logic to becomforted by such reasoning, and it was with forebodings of evilthat she said good-bye to Lestrell when the hour of departurearrived. Of Madame da Lucca Lestrell saw no more during the fewremaining days of his stay in Sydney.
THE two schooners, favoured by fine weather anda constant wind, reached the pearling fleet off Cossack, inWestern Australia, at about the same time. Both men werewell-known, for most of the shellers were old Thursday Islandmen, and Tom Duckworth was one of the most popular men in theStraits. Of course it was useless now for the two men to hidefrom each other any longer that they were on the same quest, butDuckworth had Hillsden at a disadvantage. In the first place,Duckworth's search for Ras Mahad was simply a blind, as he wantedreally to find the young man Djuran; but it served his purposewell enough to worry and annoy Hillsden.
Djuran was found without much difficulty, and Tom's luck stoodhim in good stead, for he was in the employ of an old friend ofDuckworth's, and his transfer to the schooner was effectedquietly, without coming to Hillsden's knowledge. The Malay hadlearnt fairly good English since Tom saw him last, moreover heremembered his rescuer well, and had a strong liking for him.Duckworth's errand was now virtually accomplished, but he hadheard of Ras Mahad, and, finding him almost at the same time asHillsden, feigned to enter into an agreement with him to go backto Queensland. Hillsden being on the same game, this so excitedthe avarice of the Malay that, finally, Hillsden had to pay apretty price for the transfer of his service. However, the lattercomforted himself with the thought that it was not his own moneyhe was spending.
Tom, awaking at daylight one morning, suddenly became awarethat in delaying thus he was playing the fool. With Djuran onboard, he should have sailed away at once and got many days'start of Hillsden. He jumped out of his bunk and went on deck.The southeaster that had stood them so well had died down soonafter their arrival at the shelling grounds. It was the change ofthe seasons, and they might be wind-bound at any time. The matewas on deck, gazing around with a somewhat anxious look.
"What's the matter?" asked Tom, noticing it, for the man wasan old hand on the coast.
"We're going to have a devil of a blow, or my name's notHoldsworth," the man returned.
Tom looked around. The sea was glassily calm, but ever andanon a long swell came rolling in, and, early in the morningas it was, there was a threatening haze on the northern horizon.
"I believe you're right, Holdsworth. If we can get a breath ofwind to help us, we'll get out to sea."
"Yes, and stop there until it's over," answered the mate.
"We must get away as far and as fast as we can—itdoesn't matter much in what direction, so that we have plenty ofsea-room to ride it out."
About 9 o'clock a light wind from the land began to blow, andHoldsworth drew Tom's attention to it.
"It always begins this way," he said. "I was in one of thesewilly-willys, as they call them, before. We had better takeadvantage of this, sir, and get off this coast."
It was now evident that the boats of the shelling fleet weremaking preparations for rough weather, and very soon the schoonerwas under weigh and heading out to sea. She passed close toHillsden's boat, the "Saucy Sarah," and Hillsden hailed her.
"Are you off?"
"Off to sea," shouted Duckworth, "and I advise you to do thesame."
"No, I've good holding ground, and two anchors out."
The schooner had shot on out of hearing, and Tom waved hishand, and that was the last he ever saw of Hillsden.
The wind carried them to the north-west, well out of sight ofland, before it dropped; then once more a calm set in, but thehaze had increased in density and become a threatening cloud,with constant flashes of lightning illumining it. The afternoondrew on, and the mate's anxiety increased.
"If we could get a breath of wind to keep her head to it," hesaid impatiently, "we would be pretty right, but the cussed thingcomes down like a cannon shot, and if it catches us broadside,even without canvas on, we shall have a bad show."
Everything had been made as snug as possible, and only a ragof a storm try-sail was set. Presently a rain-squall was seencoming swiftly towards them.
"Now's our chance, Holdsworth," said Tom, and they went to thehelm and sent the man there forward. The squall, the precursor ofthe hurricane, swept over them, and the schooner once moreanswered to the helm and rode head to wind. The mate heaved asigh of relief, and almost as he did so the vessel reeled asthough struck by a blow. Through the rigging and bare masts ragedand tore a wind that seemed to combine within itself all thestorms that ever blew. As yet there was no sea worth speaking of,and the schooner, showing but a small surface, gallantly met theenemy.
The sea soon began to rise, and its boiling surface, in thepremature darkness that set in, was glowing with phosphorescentlight. All the night long Duckworth and his trusty mate stuck totheir posts, and the brave little fore-and-after rode safely overthe threatening waves that seemed about to engulf her. Staggeringunder the successive buffets that she received, with the decksconstantly swimming with water, the weary night dragged through,until a wretched, rain-drenched morning broke at last. So violenthad been the gale, and the sea such a turmoil, that it had beenimpossible to serve out anything, but the wet and hungry men werequite content to know that the worst of the hurricane was over,and they were safe. Gradually the wind and sea went downsomewhat, and the cook was able to light a fire and get some foodand coffee ready.
Tom and Holdsworth had relinquished their places to two of themen when daylight tardily came, and they now stood hanging on tothe stays and talking of the late storm. "There will be an awfulsmash amongst the fleet," said the latter. "Some will be high anddry in the mangroves, and some will go down where they areanchored."
"We will go back as soon as the weather clears, and see howthey have fared. I wonder how the 'Saucy Sarah' got on!"
"He ought to have followed our example," said the mate.
It was not until the next day that Duckworth deemed it safe torun back to Cossack. When they reached it, a scene of devastationand wreck met their gaze, for the hurricane had been one of theseverest ever experienced.
The loss amongst the shipping had been heavy, and the "SaucySarah" had gone down at her moorings with all hands. Duckworthwas engaged for some weeks helping in the search for anysurvivors, and, retarded by the baffling winds that now set in,three months elapsed before he returned to Thursday Island.
He found letters and a lengthy telegram awaiting him. He hadwired from Cossack to Annett in Sydney, telling him of his safetyand the loss of Hillsden's schooner with every soul on board. Heopened the telegram first. "Bad news from Timor, probablyexaggerated. Surveying parties attacked by hill-tribes. Ruthinsists on going in the schooner. Am quite well again and leavehere in a day or two to join you."
Tom read the telegram twice. "No sooner has Fate decided onetrouble than another crops up," he thought; "but a gunboat willbe sent from Batavia, and get there before we shall."
He went up the township after reading his letters, to see ifhe could get hold of a newspaper with an account of the Timorepisode. He was partially successful; in one of the late ones hefound a small paragraph, stating that the survey parties employedby the Governments of Portugal and Holland to define the boundaryin Timor, had been attacked by the hill-tribes, and, although nodefinite news was to hand, it was rumoured that the principalsurveyors employed had fallen victims.
Duckworth was not a man to indulge in useless regrets. He wasdeeply grieved at the thought that Lestrell might have fallen,but that did not prevent him from setting to work to refit theschooner, so that she would be ready for sea by the time hispartner arrived.
DESTRUCTIVE HURRICANE ON THE NORTH-WEST COAST.
GREAT LOSS OF LIFE.
PEARL-SHELLING LUGGERS DRIVEN ASHORE.
A QUEENSLAND SCHOONER SUNK AT HER MOORINGS.
ALL HANDS LOST.
THESE were the cross headlines that greetedAnnett when he opened his newspaper one morning.
"Why the devil couldn't they have given the name of theschooner?" was his naturally impatient remark after reading theaccount, "Damn it! It can't be the 'Booby,' Tom's toocareful—but still, I know what these north-west hurricanesare."
"The Booby," was the prosaic name of Annett and Duckworth'sschooner. She had been christened after Booby Island, at one timethe most solitary and romantic post-office in the world; for, inthe days before the house-flags of half-a-dozen steamer-linesflaunted in the breezes of the Straits, there was a post-officeon Booby Island. In a cave on that little islet every passingship deposited her newspapers and a letter containing the name ofthe ship, the date, and any other information of value. The nextship took the papers, left others, if she had any, and left alsothe record of her visit.
A stock of provisions was stored in the cave for the relief ofany castaways, and the warships that patrolled those seas calledat intervals to replenish it, if necessary.
Annett was still fuming over the news when steps were audibleoutside the door, and he thrust the paper into his pocket, justas Ruth entered.
"Why, Uncle Dick," she said, drawing back after giving him hermorning kiss. "What's the matter? I never saw you look so put outbefore."
"I am a bit worried, and must get into town directly afterbreakfast; hurry it up, Ruth, like a good girl."
Wondering much what could have so upset the usually eventemper of her uncle, Ruth went on her errand.
Miss Annett enjoyed an invalid's privilege of breakfasting inher room, and the tete-a-tete breakfast of Ruth and her uncle wasgenerally the merriest meal of the day. This morning he wassilent and absent, and, as soon as it was over, left without hisusual good-bye.
The tears sprang into the girl's eyes, for all the love of heryoung heart was given to her little circle, and a slight from oneof them was like a blow. There must have been bad news in thepaper, for the post was not due for some time She looked aroundfor it but could not see it. She rang the bell.
"Did the paper come this morning?" she asked the servant.
"Yes, Miss; I put it on the table in Mr. Annett's place, asusual."
"He must have taken it away by mistake," Ruth said; and thegirl left the room.
There was no mistake—of that she felt certain. There wasbad news in the paper, and he had taken it with him to keep itaway from them, for a time. There could be only one form of badnews for Ruth. Lestrell! His steamer must have been wrecked, thatwas it!
Ruth put on her hat and went out. There was a newspaper shop,she knew, a short distance away, and she was soon there, andbought a newspaper. She opened it, and read as she walkedhomeward. The headlines attracted her attention, but they bore nomeaning to her for she did not know of her uncle Tom's intendedtrip to Cossack, it having been purposely kept from her. Shedivined, however, that it must have been this item that had sodisturbed her uncle; and, after rapidly running up and down thecolumns, she heaved a sigh of relief, The paper she had purchasedwas a different one from the paper daily taken at the cottage,and in the one she held the name of the lost schooner wasgiven—the "Saucy Sarah."
There was a footstep behind her, and a hand was laid gently onher shoulder.
"So, Miss Curiosity, you had to come and pry into matters, hadyou?" It was her uncle, and the cloud had cleared from hisface.
"I couldn't rest, uncle Dick, until I found out what wastroubling you so." And she slipped her hand through his arm.
"You thought it was something about Lestrell, eh?"
Ruth turned somewhat red, but she only pinched her uncle'sarm, and remarked—"It didn't take you long to go into townand back?"
"I didn't go. I bought another paper, and found the name ofthe schooner in it. You didn't know that uncle Tom was round atCossack in the 'Booby?'"
"No. So it was that that worried you! Did you know anythingabout this other schooner?"
"I did; and about the man who has been drowned in her. He wasan obstacle in the way of our finding out your father's fate, butI never wished him removed by death. Tom must be on his homewardway, so I hope he escaped the hurricane, and we shall soon hearfrom him from Thursday Island."
The two strolled back together.
Madame da Lucca, now a wealthy widow—for there reallyhad been a da Lucca husband—had the papers brought to herevery morning by her maid, and she was confronted by the samestartling intelligence.
"So Hillsden has gone under," she mused; "and Duckworth, Isuppose, has escaped. But Ras Mahad must have been drowned, too;for Hillsden wired me that he had been on board the schooner. Asfor Hillsden"—and her eyes flashed at the memory of ashameful wrong of the past—"I am not sorry. It leaves mefree; for I never really believed in this diamond story, andnow—I can follow my own course."
She thought for a moment, and then, getting out of bed, wentand looked in the glass. Madame da Lucca's beauty was as naturalas Ruth's; she did not require to make-up in the morning Now, asshe stood there in her white nightdress, scrutinising thereflection the glass showed her, the beauty she saw might havebeen that of the devil—but it was there, as radiant in thatsimple garb as in full array of dress and jewels. Some strongemotion agitated her as she continued to gaze, and her faceassumed a look of confidence and anticipated victory.
"It will do," she said, "I am my own mistress now, and willhave what I want, or—" she looked in the glassagain—"no, I'll admit of no failure."
She rang the bell for her maid, and some two hours afterwardswas on her way to one of the steam-shipping offices.
Ill news travels apace. The quiet people living at the littlecottage had got over their alarm for the safety of the "Booby."Tom had wired to them, and life was running smoothly as of yore.Ruth came down early one morning, picked up the paper, and openedit.
Annett was descending the stairs, when he was charged into byan affrighted maid, who gasped out, "Oh, Miss Ruth isdead!—dead!"
Annett hurried to the breakfast room. The girl was sitting atthe table—her face down on it, and her arms thrown forward.For a moment his heart stood still, then he raised her gently,and found that she had fainted. They put her on the couch, and ina few minutes she recovered. Leaving the servant with her, Annettpicked up the paper. There were no head-lines that told ofanything that could have caused his niece to faint, and it wasnot until after some search that he found the paragraph that hadwrought the trouble. It was, in effect, the same that Duckworthhad read at Thursday Island. Ruth was herself again, now, and heruncle did his best to reassure her, pointing out that it wasonly a rumour, and that these things were always exaggerated inthe first reports; but he was not very successful.
The days passed sadly at the cottage. Ruth, who had made thesunshine of the place, went about with clouded brow, silent andsad. What made it worse was the impossibility of obtainingfurther information.
Annett wired to the Dutch authorities in Batavia, but theyknew no more than what had appeared in the newspapers, save thatthe Portuguese governor at Dilli had sent some soldiers down tothe spot.
The first Dutch man-of-war that came into port would be alsosent there to make enquiries, but at present there was not one onthe station.
This was all, and Ruth pined, until, one day, she went to heruncle, and said: "When are you going north again?"
"I was thinking of going up to Thursday Island when Tomreturns—"
"And going to Timor with him in the 'Booby?'"
"Yes."
"Take me with you, Uncle Dick?"
Annett looked at her. The girl was fretting sadly, and perhapsit would be the best thing, after all.
"I will speak to your aunt. If she agrees, you shall go."
She kissed him gratefully. "I shall feel so much better if weare doing something; but, oh, this dreary, weary waiting!"
On one of the monthly British-India boats, running north fromBrisbane, was a lady-passenger for Batavia who attracted a gooddeal of attention from the male passengers and a good deal ofenvy, hatred, and malice from the female side. Budding youngdamsels who were on a visit to Europe, which was henceforth to bethe quotation point of their lives, and who had been full ofanticipations as to the joys of being the belle of the ship, hadtheir noses ruthlessly put out of joint by the dark-eyed widow.What was the good of their protesting in secret conclave againstthe whole proceeding? From time immemorial the young widow cangive the maid twenty-five in a hundred and beat her easily!
At Thursday Island, Madame da Lucca first heard of themisfortune that was rumoured to have befallen the survey party.She landed at Batavia, and, through the agents of her deceasedhusband, had no difficulty in chartering a schooner for the runto Timor. In a few days she was enabled to start on her wildfreak, and the coast of Java was soon left behind.
THE schooner, with Madame da Lucca on board,and two sturdy Javanese she had engaged as servants, arrivedsafely at Dilli, after a smart run across. She had taken theprecaution to furnish herself with credentials from the Batavianauthorities, although, wherever a man was concerned, she hadentire confidence in her own powers of fascination. The courteousGovernor gave her full details. The account of the affair wasgreatly exaggerated. No one had been killed amongst the surveyparty, the hillmen being repulsed with loss. He regretted to saythat the English surveyor was amongst the wounded, and badlywounded too. This was more to be deplored as he had displayedgreat gallantry during the short conflict. Senor Lestrell was nowlying sick at a little village, not far from the boundary; hewould have been brought to Dilli, but the doctor had forbiddenit. Was Madame da Lucca a relative of his?
She said she was, and asked him the name of the village andits position. He pointed it out to her on the map. "Was there anyshelter? Could she take the schooner there?"
There was excellent shelter for small craft like the schooner.Was Madame aware that there was another Englishman downthere—had been there for a year or two. He was queer in hishead, but quite harmless, so he had been left thereundisturbed?
Madame was not aware of it, but it was most interesting. Thenshe took her leave and went on board her schooner, where she hada conference with the Dutch captain she had engaged.
Lestrell had received a bad cut on the head, and was lying ina native house in the same village that had so long harbouredAnnett. The survey parties had visited it on their outward way,and Lestrell had thus at once come upon the missing man. He hadfailed, however, to awaken in him any recognition or remembrance,so he could but leave him for the time being amongst the peoplewho had so long been friendly to him.. By the first messengersent back with despatches to Dilli, he forwarded a letter toDuckworth, which Tom was fated not to receive until after it hadbecome of no consequence. Strange to say, when Lestrell wasbrought back sick and wounded—for he had been moreseriously hurt than any of the others—Annett's mind seemedto recover somewhat, and he scarcely ever left the sick man'sside, waiting on him so deftly that the doctor was able to leavehim and return to the survey encampment.
Lestrell was tossing restlessly on the sleeping-mat stretchedon a camp bedstead, for the Portuguese authorities had made himas comfortable as they could, under the circumstances. He wasmuttering in delirium; his face was flushed and his eyesunnaturally bright. By his side sat Reginald Annett, white-hairedand prematurely aged, busily engaged in fanning the sufferer tokeep the swarming flies away, and every now and then wetting thebandages round the patient's head.
Presently the mat hung before the open doorway was lifted; anative woman looked in and beckoned to Annett. He went to thedoor. Several natives were standing about, gazing seaward. Aschooner was making for the entrance. She came on with a fairwind, shortened sail as she rounded the point of the reef, anddropped anchor under its safe shelter. Annett's listless mind,however, took but little interest in things; he turned back intothe house and resumed his seat by Lestrell.
Outside there was some excitement amongst the villagers, whobegan to think that their primal quiet was about to be upset forever. A boat came ashore with the captain of the schooner, who,after some talk with the head men of the place, returned to hisship.
Towards evening Lestrell fell into a kind of stupor. Annett,still patiently sitting at his post, was disturbed by the matbeing raised, and, glancing round, saw a figure that startledeven his benumbed brain into action.
It was a woman, arrayed in native dress, but yet no native ofthe island. She wore the kabaya and sarong, but both were made ofcostly material. Her rounded arms were bare nearly to the elbow,and a few bangles on her wrist set off the tapering slope of thatlimb. The sarong, draped all around her, fell in graceful foldsfrom her hips to above her ankles, showing her bare and shapelyfeet thrust into Chinese sandals. The curves of her shoulders andbust were outlined under the loose drapery of the kabaya, and herluminous eyes, soft as a fawn's, looked kindly at Annett. To hiscrazed brain came the thought that she was a super-naturalvisitant—some radiant being from another sphere. He rosefrom his seat as she dropped the mat and advanced. Silently, withher hands clasped, she stood looking at the sleeper, and Annett,whose gaze was riveted on her face, saw her eyes become suffusedwith tears. Noiselessly she bent over Lestrell and kissed him onthe forehead. The kiss was as light as if a thistledown hadrested there, but Lestrell moved and murmured a name. It was"Ruth!"
Madame da Lucca rose, with unchanged face. She had schooledherself to expect this. She beckoned to Annett and they passedoutside.
"You are Reginald Annett?" she said.
He drew his hand wearily across his brow. "Yes," he replied,"I think that is my name."
"I am a dear friend of Mr. Lestrell's, and hope to besomething more. I have come to help you to nurse him. Do youunderstand me?"
He signified that he did; even on his dull wits the woman'smagnetic force was making an impression. She noted the interestgrowing in his vacant face, and pursued her victory. "I haveobtained the use of a house, here, and have two servants with mefrom Java. I shall stay here until Mr. Lestrell is well enough togo on board the schooner, and then, if you like to come with us,you can."
"Go away with him and you?" he asked.
She nodded.
"I will come," he replied.
She held out her hand, he took it, and, as if some dim memoryawoke, raised it to his lips.
"Where do you come from?" he asked.
"From Java," she returned; but the name bore no significanceto him.
"I am glad you have come," was all he said.
They re-entered the house, and found Lestrell awake; andmuttering and tossing once more.
He looked at Madame da Lucca with eyes that bore norecognition in their depths; and so it went on from day today.
She shared Annett's labours, and awoke in his breast a kind ofdog-like devotion. As for her, it was a time of fierce andtumultuous joy. She had the man she loved to herself; unconsciousof her presence, it was true, but still hers—hersonly—to tend, to nurse, to caress! In the chaoticremembrances of that time, Lestrell seemed, afterwards, to recallhow a firm, warm arm was often passed beneath his head, which waspressed to the yielding softness of a woman's breast, whilepassionate kisses were rained upon his lips and face.
One morning, when Madame da Lucca left the house she lived in,to go to that where Lestrell lay sick, she saw one of the littlealbino ponies common to the Island, being held by a native,outside the doorway. Returning to her own temporary residence,she sent one of her boys down to find out who the visitor was;then she retired to the inner room and quickly changed her dressto a plain serge. She had no intention of masquerading for thebenefit of strangers. The boy returned, and said that the doctorhad ridden in from the survey camp to see how Lestrell wasfaring.
The Portuguese doctor was astonished at the apparition thatgreeted him as he lifted the mat and stepped out. In a few words,she introduced herself as a near relative of Lestrell's, andbegged the doctor to let her know when he could be safely takenon board the schooner.
"I cannot say, to-day," he replied. "He isbetter!—thanks, no doubt, Madame, to the attention you havedevoted to him—but I cannot assert that he is fit to beremoved."
"He is strong, now," murmured the woman.
"He is, and will soon recover his reason; but, you see, theseason is uncertain. You may run into a typhoon, and SenorLestrell is not in a condition to stand any rough knockingabout."
"And how long, doctor, do you think it will be before he canleave?" and she turned the full battery of her eyes upon him.
But the doctor was proof, where his profession was concerned,and he assured her that it would not be under a week, but that hewould come in again in a day or two.
"It is such an unhealthy climate, here," she said. "I do sowant to get him to a better one."
"You shall, as soon as it is safe to do so. Believe me,Madame, I am advising you for the best." He mounted hisdiminutive steed and rode off, leaving Madame da Lucca in nopleasant frame of mind. Her musings were disturbed—thedoctor was returning.
"I forgot to tell you," he said, "that the hillmen are againgiving trouble, and I would advise you to sleep on board yourschooner every night. I do not imagine that they will attack thisvillage, for they are devoting their attention to avenge the losswe inflicted on them before. If they knew that Senor Lestrell,who was particularly active and forward in the skirmish, is lyinghere wounded, they might make a dash; but the villagers have beenwarned, and will keep a look-out." He rode off.
Madame da Lucca had now a burning desire to get Lestrell onboard the schooner and away, while he was still unconscious ofhis surroundings. She had, in fact, determined to kidnap him, andput an impassable gulf between him and Ruth. Although shebelieved that Ras Mahad, who, as she thought, was the onlypossessor of the knowledge of Annett's whereabouts, was drowned,still, on hearing of Lestrell's danger, Tom might come to Dilli,and there learn everything. Any morning a white sail might gleamin the distance, and those arrive who would baulk her plans. Herpassion for Lestrell and her hatred of Ruth were now a mania withher. If Lestrell regained his reason, he might object to go withher—probably would; but, once on board, and out of sight ofland, he would come to his senses only to find a returnimpossible. She would wait until after the doctor's next visit,and then—act, in any case.
DJURAN, the young Malay, was intelligent, andcould now speak fairly good English. He explained to Tom thewhereabouts of the village, and described the little bay and reefwhereon the proa had been wrecked, and Duckworth had nodifficulty in locating it on the chart. He noticed that it waswithin a short distance of the boundary line, and determined,therefore, to sail straight there, instead of going north toDilli, and then returning. In all probability the village wouldbe the headquarters of the survey party. Annett and Ruth arrivedby the steamer. The girl already looked much better for thechange, and the feeling that, at least, they were doingsomething. It was not long before the "Booby" was once morespeeding across the mouth of the great gulf that bites deep intothe north coast of Australia.
The volcanic peaks of the mountain range of Timor at last camein sight, but not till after some baffling winds had beenexperienced, and Ruth feasted her eyes on the tropical lovelinessof the island, wherein she dreaded to find only her lover'sgrave; for no more details had found their way into any of thepapers.
The doctor had again ridden in to see Lestrell, and, in spiteof all Madame da Lucca's blandishments, had distinctly refused toallow his patient to be taken on board the schooner.
"Besides," he reminded her, "Senor Lestrell is underengagement to both Governments, and I have reported that in ashort time he will be able to resume duty. He cannot leave theisland without their sanction."
The headstrong woman felt inclined to throw these warnings tothe wind and pursue her own wild course; and she sat besideLestrell's bedside in a fit of moody musing. The evening drew on,and Annett, who had been silently watching her in his dog-likefashion, approached, and motioned to her that he would take herplace. Lestrell was sleeping quietly, and she stooped and kissedhim. It was evident that the fever was rapidly abating; and itseemed as though he would soon awake and be himself again. Shepassed out of the house and went up to her own quarters. One ofher boys had been waiting, and followed her at a short distance.Since the warning given by the doctor, she had armed both ofthem, and always carried a revolver herself. Apart from the oneo'ermastering passion that now had possession of her, she was awoman with plenty of common sense.
They reached home, and she went into her room and assumed herloose, comfortable native garments. Meanwhile, the boys laid thetable in the outer room, and put the evening meal on. Madame daLucca ate with her usual healthy appetite, and pondered over herfuture movements. She was as determined as ever to carry out herplans, but the doctor had somewhat disconcerted her by hisstatement that Lestrell was still under his engagement to the twoGovernments.
"Madame," said one of the boys, lifting the mat, "there is alight at sea."
She started to her feet and went out. The boy pointed thelight out to her, and, after a little, she discovered it, for, atfirst, it was confused amongst the stars lying low on thehorizon. But, once caught, it was easily distinguishable, for itslowly rose and fell.
A ship's riding-light—and the ship was lying off theland, waiting for daylight. A gentle land breeze was blowing, andinstinct told her that in the morning she would see Duckworth'sschooner at anchor in the bay. Then she became conscious that astrange murmur of excitement was to be heard in the village. Itrose and swelled until—"broke forth from one and alla cry as if the Volscians were coming o'er the wall."
The hillmen had attacked the place!
Madame da Lucca was an exceptional woman; she scarcely knewwhat fear was, and the prospect of a fight gave her a fierce kindof pleasure. Her boys were prepared; she threw a cartridge-beltover her shoulder, picked up a light rifle she had, and the threehastened to the house where Lestrell lay, for she guessed thatthat was the main point of attack.
The fighting had commenced outside the village, but the tideof battle was evidently being rolled back in the direction ofLestrell's house, which, however they reached in safety. Annetthad been roused to life by the noise of the fray, and Lestrellwas sitting up in bed with a new light in his eyes—thelight of reason! He had attempted to rise, but found himself tooweak. He was telling Annett, who needed no urging, and seemedalmost himself again, to hurry to the front. Annett hadLestrell's rifle and cartridge-belt, and hastened by the othersas they entered, without a word; then he rushed into the thick ofit, and the quick reports of his rifle showed that a vigorousally had arrived in the nick of time. Lestrell gazed curiously atthe three natives, as he thought, for he did not recognise Madameda Lucca. Then he motioned them hastily to leave, telling them togo and join the fight. Madame da Lucca spoke sharply to the twoin their own language, and, nothing loth, for they were good,picked men, they hastened out.
"Lawrence! Lawrence!" she cried. "Do you not know me?"
"Lena!" he said, incredulously. "You here—and in thisdress? What does it mean."
"Mean, my love? That you have beenill—delirious—and I have nursed you, and now we areattacked by the hillmen—the same who wounded you—andI have come to protect you."
Even as she spoke, the uproar swept towards them. In spite ofthe loss they were suffering from the rifles of Annett and thetwo Javanese, the hillmen pressed recklessly on towards thehouse, where, somehow, they had learned that the surveyor who hadbeen foremost in repulsing their first attack, was lyingwounded.
"Give me my revolver," said Lestrell. The belt was hanging onthe low roof, and she reached it down and handed it to him. Thenthe two waited; she with her rifle in her hand, and a mad joy inher heart. At the worst, they would die together.
The fight surged past the house, and then the expected rushcame. The mat hanging in the doorway was rudely torn down, and acrowd of fierce figures were pressing in; but, one after theother, they went down on the threshold. The delirium of battlehad given Lestrell temporary strength, and no hand was everfirmer on the trigger than was Madame da Lucca's on the lightmagazine-rifle she was using. Repulsed, they drew back, and thedefenders, making another onslaught on them, drove them outagain. Once more there was a rally, and another attack was made,but this time it was more easily defeated. Suddenly, shots fromthe jungle to seaward told of help. The captain and mate of theDutch schooner had just arrived on the scene of conflict, andtheir coming turned the tide of victory. The "jaw-hunters" brokeand fled.
The "Booby" was lying outside the reef, and Tom and Annettwere impatiently pacing the deck.
"Listen!" said Duckworth, and they halted in their walk. Borneto them on the land breeze, came the first sounds of theconflict.
"Fighting, by jingo!" said Tom. "We must take a hand in that,somehow."
"Djuran!" he called out, as the shots rang out clearer andlouder. The Malay hastened up.
"Do you think you can take us in, to-night, in thewhale-boat?" The man listened for a moment.
"Yes. There's no surf worth speaking of, now, and I know theopening as well as possible."
"Mr. Holdsworth," said Duckworth, "get the whaleboat out assoon as ever you can. Mr. Annett and I will go ashore and seewhat the fun is about. You must keep the schooner on and off,just as she is, but put a mast-head light up as well. Now, Dick,we had better go and load up."
With the smart crew they had on board, it did not take longbefore the whaleboat was in the water and the boat's crew intheir places. Djuran, as he went aft, was startled to see awoman's figure there before him, but the taciturn Malay saidnothing. Duckworth and Annett handed down their rifles andfollowed themselves.
"Why, Ruth, what are you doing here?" asked Annett, when hefound his niece seated in the boat.
"I am going ashore with you," she replied; "and you'll have toput me overboard to get rid of me, Uncle Dick."
Annett turned to his partner, but Tom merely sangout—"Give way now, smartly!" and the regular thud of theoars in the rowlocks was the only sound heard on board.
Djuran stood up on the afterthwart as they swiftly neared theentrance. The Malay was right; there was very little surf on,and, after a couple of rollers had been negotiated, they were inthe still water of the bay, and in a few minutes the boat wasbeached.
"You had better stop here, Ruth," said Annett, as she put herfoot on the side and jumped down after them.
"I am going with you," was all the reply she vouchsafed, asshe resolutely passed her hand under his arm.
The sounds of conflict had ceased—save for voicesaudible in the village.
"They must have been beaten off, whoever they were," said Tom,"or the village would be in flames."
They pressed through the jungle with some difficulty, andarrived at the end of the village where Lestrell's house wassituated. From the open doorway streamed a bright bar of light,and, attracted by it, the three made for the place.
"Seems to have been pretty hard fighting here," said Tom,gazing at the dead bodies lying about. They advanced and lookedin.
A haggard man, dressed in pyjamas, with bandages round hishead, was half-sitting, half-lying on the bed; an old white man(old to all appearance) was standing near, and one whom they atfirst took for a handsome boy in native dress was alsopresent.
"Lawrence!" cried Ruth, and, springing past the others, was inher lover's wasted arms.
IT was lucky that slow-going Tom Duckworthcould be a man of observation when he liked. He noted the changethat transformed the supposed boy's face into that of a demon; hesaw the uncontrollable hand about to raise the rifle it stillheld, and, springing forward, he seized the weapon in time.
"No, Madame da Lucca!" said the sturdy pearl-sheller, as shemade a desperate effort to wrench it from him. "I don't want totwist your pretty wrists; better give it up quietly."
She yielded with a contemptuous laugh, and drew back, watchingher opportunity.
Dick Annett approached his brother, whom he hardly recognised."Reggy?" the former said, holding out his hand, but the othershook his head. The gleam of reason that had been awakened in himby the excitement of the attack had died down once more.
"What's the matter with you, Reggy? Do you not know Ruth, yourdaughter?"
Ruth came forward and held out her hands to her father, but heturned and looked at Madame da Lucca, and, stepping beside her,took her hand. She laughed mockingly.
"He is out of his mind," said Duckworth to Annett, in a lowtone. "We're in a devil of a coil, here."
"Mr. Annett," said Madame da Lucca in a firm voice, "Mr.Lestrell is still very weak, and the excitement of your visit, onthe top of the little fighting we have had, will not do him muchgood. I should suggest that you retire and let the invalid havesome necessary rest."
Duckworth, who had not yet spoken to Lestrell, went over tohim and shook hands. "What's been the matter, old man?" he said,ignoring Madame's speech.
"I got a nasty clip on the head, and I suppose my mind's beenwandering ever since. I don't know how long I have been lyinghere, but I came to myself just as the fighting began. I'm rightnow, though."
Dick Annett had drawn near and greeted him while he spoke, andRuth came with him. Madame da Lucca, with the old man stillholding and patting her hand fondly, was left standing alone.They seemed to have drawn around the sick man as if to protecthim from her; she saw this, and it cut her proud heart to thecore.
"Miss Annett," she said, "I have been nursing Mr. Lestrellthrough his sickness. While you stopped safely at home, I camealone and found him lying here. To-night I came here and stood byhis bedside, and fought in his defence." She pointed to the deadbodies outside the door, and her passion rose with her words."Could—you!—you!—you puny doll, have donethat?"
None answered. The men recognised the uselessness of it, andRuth, who had put her hand on Lestrell's knew, with a woman'sinstinct, that that action galled the enraged woman more than anywords could have done.
"Lawrence," she went on, "ask this man, Ruth's father, if I amnot speaking truth!" She looked at Reginald Annett and seemed topossess some strange power to make him understand when othersfailed.
"She came, and has watched you day and night!" he said,looking at Lestrell.
"You hear," she continued, "Lawrence Lestrell, you are boundto me by every tie of honour and gratitude. If you have one sparkof true manhood in you, abjure your promise to that girl! You aremine! But for me, you would now be lying on that bed, hacked todeath!"
"Oh, Lawrence, Lawrence!" sobbed Ruth, "she has taken myfather from me—do not let her take you as well!"
"Hush, Ruth!" he said, gently. "Have no fear!" and theflashing eyes of the watching woman noted the hard look come overhis thin face, that she had seen once before.
"Madame da Lucca, for what you have done, you shall have mylifelong gratitude; but I cannot give you what I have alreadygiven to another. I acknowledge that I owe you much, but I have adebt of love, of honour and duty, to pay here, too. What you havedone, she—my promised wife, would have done, could she havegot here in time. Witness her accompanying her uncle here,now."
Tom Duckworth stood ready. From the look on Madame da Lucca'sface, he thought she was about to spring on Ruth and wreak hervengeance then and there. "Ten chances to one she has a knife,and a sharp one, too, about her, somewhere," he thought.
But Madame drew herself haughtily together. "Am I to leave theroom—or your friends?" she asked, with a scornful lip.
"I have much to say to my friends," returned Lestrell.
She looked at him with a mixed glance of love and contempt,and moved to the door—a magnificent creature in herbarbaric dress.
"Stay, I will go with you," said Reginald Annett.
"Father," said Ruth, advancing, and laying her hand on hisarm, "do try and remember me."
He shook her off. "No, no," he replied, "you have been unkindto her."
Madame da Lucca had paused at the open doorway. It was a poortriumph, but still, it was a triumph. Reggy Annett joined her,and she and the white-haired castaway passed out into the nighttogether.
"D—d glad I never got married," said Tom Duckworth, atlast. "See what a mess women make of everything, with theirsentiment and emotions. Take my advice, Lestrell, and thinkbetter of it. I'm going outside for some fresh air; coming,Dick?" He left the house, and Annett followed him.
"Better leave those two together for a bit," said Tom, whenAnnett joined him. "But that devilish woman means mischief. Lord!how could she have developed into what she is now? If you hadonly seen the length and angularity of the creature when I firstsaw her as a girl!"
"She's a dangerous woman," replied Annett, "and I shallbe glad to get away from here, for she'd stop atnothing, and as soon put a knife in Ruth as not. But what are weto do about my brother? It's a terrible thing to find him likethis."
"We must wait on events. I suppose we had better kill the timeon shore here, to-night. I'll go down and send the whaleboatback, and tell Holdsworth to bring the schooner in in themorning. You stop here, on guard."
Tom went off in the darkness, and Annett, after a shortinterval, re-entered the hut.
"Well, Lestrell, how are you feeling now?" he asked.
"Wonderfully well. As soon as I have had a real good feed Ishall be fit for anything."
"Do you remember nothing of the time since you werewounded?"
"Very little. I have a confused sort of idea of having beenbrought in here, and I suppose must have had lucid intervals; forwhen I woke up to-night I was not surprised at finding myselfhere."
"And you remember nothing of Madame da Lucca'sappearance?"
"Not a thing, I assure you. To-night, just as the rowcommenced, was the first time I was conscious of herpresence."
"Do you think the doctor will come in to-morrow?" askedAnnett.
"I can't say. I have no recollection of his visits, but Ishould imagine some of the survey men will be in, the first thingthis morning. They must have learnt something of the movements ofthe hill tribes."
Presently, Tom's heavy step was heard outside, and heentered.
"Well, what's to be done?" he asked.
"That's just what I want to know;" returned Annett.
"It's Reggy who is the trouble. Impossible to leave himhere."
"We'll have to kidnap him, and, perhaps, when he gets awayfrom this his wits may come back."
"And about you, Lestrell; will you come back with us in theschooner?"
"If I can get leave from the authorities; but I ought to stopand finish my engagement."
"And in your present state a good bout of fever will finishyou! You're lucky to get off as you've done."
They talked for some time longer, but could think of nofeasible plan of dealing with Reggy Annett in his present state,especially with Madame da Lucca exercising an adverse influenceover him.
At last the partners insisted on Lestrell being left to rest,and the three wandered out on the beach and watched the sky turnfrom grey to pink behind the mountains, until daylight was on theshore once more.
Ruth looked at the lovely surroundings developing with thegrowing light, and a great peace came over the girl's spirit. Herlover was restored to her, and she felt that the dark-eyed woman,who seemed to hate her with such strange intensity, would notsucceed in her efforts to alienate him from her.
"Here comes the 'Booby!'" said Duckworth, whose first glancehad, of course, been seaward. The pretty little schooner, whoseappearance did not justify her ridiculous name, was coming inwith a light wind and all sails set. They watched her as sherounded the point of the reef, and, running up nearer in shorethan the Dutch craft, let go her anchor.
"They'll send a boat, when they see us on the beach," saidTom, and he waved his hat. In a few minutes the whaleboat, whichhad been towing astern, was seen coming off.
"But, Uncle Dick," said Ruth, "I don't like going away andleaving Lawrence alone. There's no knowing what that awful womanmight do."
"There's something in what Ruth says," said Annett to Tom."She's quite unscrupulous."
"She is—she's a scorcher! You take Ruth on board and getyour breakfast, then come back and relieve me, and I'll come off.But, mind you, Ruth, you're not wanted on shore this morning. Yougo straight to your cabin and lie down when you've had yourchow."
Ruth pouted, but she knew when Uncle Tom said a thing he meantit.
Duckworth waited until the boat came in; then, saying that hewould go up to the house and see how things were getting on, heturned towards the jungle.
"Well, were you in time for any fighting?" askedHoldsworth.
"No; all over by the time we got there. It must have beenpretty warm, though, while it lasted."
"Have any luck, otherwise?" asked the mate, who was acquaintedwith object of the trip.
"Yes. My brother and Mr. Lestrell are both on shore, but I amsorry to say that my brother's mind seems affected, and he eitherwill not, or cannot, recognise any of us. As for Lestrell, he'shad a cut on the head and been pretty bad, but he's nearly wellnow. We must hold a council of war presently about how to get mybrother to come with us."
"Is he so bad as that? I'm sorry to hear it. I suppose," wenton Holdsworth, with a somewhat sly look at Ruth, "there will beno trouble in inducing Mr. Lestrell to come away?"
Annett smiled, and Ruth went into the cabin.
"Hurry up the cook, will you?" said Annett, as he followedher.
TOM walked slowly back through the jungle. Whenhe arrived within sight of the village he saw a group of poniesheld by two or three natives. Evidently a party from thesurvey-camp had come in. Men in uniform, with cigarettes in theirmouths, were directing the removal of the bodies of the hillmen;the villagers had taken away their own dead immediately after thedefeat of their enemies. Duckworth made his way to the housewhere Lestrell lived; the mat had been re-hung, and he lifted itand entered.
Two men were seated conversing with Lestrell, who looked welland bright, and was dressed in a white suit. He greeted Tom witha friendly smile, and said something in Portuguese to his twovisitors, who rose and bowed to the new-comer. Tom returned thesalutation, and, hauling out a box, sat down on it.
"This is the doctor, Tom," said Lestrell, "and the othergentleman is the chief surveyor of the Portuguese staff. Theydon't understand English, and you don't understand Portuguese, Iknow, so, if there is anything important, I'll act asinterpreter." Tom grunted an assent, and Lestrell resumed hisconversation, principally with the doctor. Suddenly he burst outlaughing, then he said a few words to the doctor, and turned toDuckworth.
"What do you think, old man?—Madame da Lucca was bent ontaking me on board her schooner. If it hadn't been for theDoctor, here, I should have come to my senses half-way betweenhere and Singapore, or wherever she intended going."
"Clear case of attempted Shanghai-ing," growled Tom.
"Ask the doctor if you can come on board to-day."
The doctor made some remark in reply to Lestrell's question;and the latter got off the bed and walked up and down the room,somewhat feebly, it is true.
The doctor shook his head and said something in comment, thenhe felt Lestrell's pulse.
"He says I can go on board to-morrow."
An animated conversation then ensued between the twosurveyors; at its conclusion the visitors got up, and, aftershaking Lestrell warmly by the hand, departed. Tom went to thedoorway and watched them gather their party together, mount theirponies, and ride off. The dead had been put out of sight.
"It's all settled," said Lestrell, when Tom turned round. "ThePortuguese surveyor will write a letter which the Dutchman willalso sign, and it will be sent in this afternoon. When we leavehere we can go up to Dilli, where I must report myself."
"Now our trouble is about Annett's brother. You are fixed upall right."
"Yes. That's a hard nut to crack, and Madame da Lucca will useall her influence with the poor fellow, to thwart us." The mat atthe doorway was suddenly lifted, and Madame herself stood there,no longer in her picturesque native dress, but in a severelyplain serge. She inclined her head slightly toDuckworth—who got up—and then advanced to Lestrell."I am going away, Lawrence. My luggage has been sent on board,and the boat is waiting for me. I have come to say good-bye." He,too, had risen, and took the hand she held out to him.
"Good-bye, Lena. I can never hope to repay you all thegratitude I owe you, but I shall remember it all my life."
"It is not gratitude I want," she whispered, regardless ofTom's presence. Lestrell was silent.
"It is good-bye, then?" she went on.
"Good-bye, with all good wishes," he returned.
She gazed longingly into his eyes, and then released her hand,and turned to Duckworth.
"Good-bye, Mr. Duckworth. You've been too much for that'scraggy gawk of a girl,' after all." Tom turned crimson, andMadame da Lucca laughed almost gaily. "You see, I heard of thecomplimentary way you spoke of me on board the steamer."
"But, where is Annett?" stammered Tom.
"Oh, Mr. Annett goes with me in the schooner; and I thinkthat, once away, he may recover. If so, he will probably returnto Australia of his own accord. Believe me, you would never gethim to leave here except by force."
It seemed an easy solution of the difficulty, and Duckworthand Lestrell exchanged glances. The idea occurred to both thatMadame da Lucca was scoring a point against Ruth in thus takingcharge of her father, which would rankle in the girl's mindalways. But they could not well protest; the facts wereincontestable.
Madame da Lucca gave one glance round, as if to fix theinterior of the room in her memory; then, as Duckworth lifted themat for her, she bestowed on him a gracious smile of thanks, andwent out.
"Give me your arm, Tom," said Lestrell, after a pause; "I mustpractise walking a little; let's go outside for a stroll."
"Good Lord!" said Duckworth. "Supposing she means to marryReggy Annett, and then come the step-mother over Ruth!" Both menlaughed; Tom's flight of imagination was too bold. As Annett cameashore, the boat containing Madame da Lucca, his brother, and thetwo Javanese, left the beach, lower down, and he did not noticethe occupants. He looked troubled when they told him of the turnof affairs, but there seemed no help for it.
Duckworth went off to the schooner, and Annett remained withLestrell, and assisted him in his preparations for departure. Inthe afternoon, Tom yielded to Ruth's solicitations and cameashore with her.
Lestrell picked up strength rapidly during the day, but heresisted all their persuasions to go on board the schooner thatnight, and disobey the doctor. The Dutch schooner still lay atanchor, and no preparations for departure appeared to be underway as yet, as far as could be seen from the deck of the "Booby."Evening drew on, and a farewell dinner was prepared in Lestrell'shouse; Tom having brought ashore some extra eatables from theschooner. It was fairly successful as a banquet, but theaffliction that had befallen Ruth's father, and their inabilityto do anything, somewhat saddened them; Lestrell, too, seemedanxious to see them off to the schooner in a way that somewhatpuzzled Ruth, and slightly annoyed her.
"I'm not easy in my mind about those men; they might try it onagain to-night. They're very revengeful," Lestrell confided toTom. "I want Ruth to go on board as soon as you can get her togo."
Ruth objected; she would have enough of the schooner beforethey got back to Thursday Island. At last Duckworth unwisely toldher the reason of their anxiety to go on board.
"What!" exclaimed the girl. "Leave Lawrence here, after whatthat woman said? No, Uncle Tom, I stop ashore tonight."
"Here, Dick!" called out Duckworth. "Come and use yourauthority. There's mutiny in the camp."
But remonstrances were useless. Ruth was stubborn; the taunthad stung deeply. There was nothing for it but to make the bestof it. There was a thatched shelter near Lestrell's house, andthe men made up their minds to pass the night there and let Ruthhave the house.
The night was moonless, but clear. The men had spread theirmats down and made arrangements for watching in turns. It wasabout midnight, and Duckworth was yawning and thinking how, butfor Ruth's folly, as he termed it, they might all be comfortablyasleep on board the schooner, when it seemed to him that a darkand noiseless figure was coming towards Lestrell's house. Thebackground of jungle was black, and the fire-flies flittingthrough it seemed to increase the gloom. He advanced a few steps,and peered intently in the direction he thought he had noticedthe figure. He challenged, but there was no answer. Broad awakenow, he resumed his station under the shelter, and watched foranother hour, but there was no sign of anything, and he began tothink that he must have been deceived.
Lestrell awoke presently, and offered to take his place for abit. Tom told him that he thought he had seen a dark figuremoving about, but he was not sure about it; then he lay down onthe mat and went off into a sailor's sleep.
Lestrell seated himself against one of the bamboos supportingthe shelter they were under. A riding-lantern had been leftburning in Ruth's room, and it gleamed brightly under the mathung in the doorway. He turned his eyes to the jungle, and hisheart gave a jump. Like a spectre, a figure emerged from thedarkness with noiseless footsteps. Lestrell's nerves were shakenby his long illness, and he could not resist a thrill of terroras this silent shape advanced, apparently making straight for hislate residence. He thought of Ruth sleeping there in fanciedsecurity; before he could get up and reach the house themysterious figure would be before him. Without rising, he put hisrifle to his shoulder and fired.
There was a wail of pain, and the dark form seemed to sinkinto the earth.
"What's up!" cried Duckworth, as he and Annett started up atthe report.
"I don't know; something was coming towards the house, and Ifired at it. It's lying out there!" and he pointed in thedirection, leaning back against the bamboo, and feeling weak andfaint.
"Stay here; I will go and see what it is," returned Tom."Annett, you had better go and see if Ruth is safe."
Tom started off in the direction Lestrell had pointed, and hiskeen eyes soon detected a human form on the ground. He advancedand stooped over it, then dropped on one knee and raised thehead.
Annett lifted the mat and looked into the room. Ruth wassleeping soundly—the report had not aroused her. He droppedthe mat again, and, as he did so, heard Tom's voice call tohim.
"Bring the light!" he said. Annett went softly into the room,untied the lantern, and went with it to where Tom was kneeling,supporting the head of the unknown. Annett swung the lantern infront of the face.
"My God!" was all he said.
In a native dress of dark stuff, with the blood welling from awound in her breast, her eyes closed, and a face of death, layMadame da Lucca.
"Is she dead?" asked Annett, in a whisper.
"No," returned Tom, in the same low tone; "her heart stillbeats."
"Look there," said Annett.
The unconscious hand still held a parang, or heavy knife, usedby the Malays.
"For Ruth?" said Tom; and Annett nodded a silent assent. Stepswere heard approaching. Lestrell had recovered from the feelingof faintness that had attacked him, and was coming towards them."Is that you, Lestrell?" called out Tom.
"Go back and wait for us—you are not wanted here."
"Why not? What has happened?" he returned, stilladvancing.
"Damn it!—keep away, can't you;" cried Duckworth in aharsh voice—more as though he were speaking to a Kanakathan to a friend.
"Rubbish," said the other, walking into the light.
For one horrified moment he looked at the face upturned to thegleam of the lantern, then Annett passed his arm round him, forhe reeled as though he would have fallen. By a great effort herecovered himself.
"Get up, Tom," he said, hoarsely; "this is my place." He tookthe woman's head on his arm, and Duckworth rose.
As if the touch had brought her spirit back from beyond thegrave, the dark eyes opened, and recognised the agonized facebending down.
"It will not be so hard to die, now," she whispered.
"You did not mean to murder Ruth, surely?"
Her slackened hand tried vainly to lift the heavy knife. "Notto murder her," she said distinctly, and Tom and Annett, standingsilently there heard every word. "But I would have slashed hertwice across the face with this, and spoilt her baby beauty forever."
Neither of them spoke. The savage vindictiveness in the voicemade them feel cold.
"Look, Lawrence," she said, and pointed to her feet.
Annett held the lantern up. On her feet—wet with theblood that had gushed from the wound and bespattered thelower part of her sarong and her bare ankles—she wore theMoccasins of Silence.
"Do you remember, Lawrence, I vainly vowed that the prophecywould never come true." She put up her failing hand, as if tobestow on his face the caress a woman only gives to the one manshe loves. He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers. Like atired child, she nestled her head in his arm, and, with a sigh,almost of content, the headstrong, untamed spirit fled into theunknown. "Once shall these be wet with blood. Twice shall they bewet with blood. The third time it will be the blood of thewearer."
In the grave, where lies the wearer whose blood bedewed them athird time, the fatal Moccasins of Silence moulder into dust.