DECOYED
The latest news delivered by Lucy to Squire Dove, though designed to
allay his distress of mind, was futile as to its effect, but Edith and
Miss Chain were rejoiced to hear that the doctor and the squire were
now reconciled. A missive of much stranger nature, however, arrived the
next morning, and purported to emanate from the harbour-master’s office
at Newhaven.
“Will Squire Dove kindly send his carriage over at one o’clock
to-morrow to meet the Company’s agent at the new bridge, when Miss
Dove and her companion will be in time to meet their friends from
Cherbourg. No reply is expected, but the arrival of the ladies at
the time specified, will be relied upon, when they will be met and
conducted on board a steamer. In haste, to save the post.”
The squire was himself anxious to go, but his daughter prevailed upon
him not to do so, owing to his health.
On the ladies arriving at the new bridge, they were met by a
fashionably-dressed gentleman whom they supposed was the Company’s
agent. He escorted the ladies with much politeness on board a
fine-looking vessel lying close to the wharf, but higher up than the
place where the steamers generally start from. They were then invited
to the saloon, where luncheon was ready prepared for them. Then
excusing himself on the ground that he had business to transact with
their new captain and mate, he left them to their luncheon, stating
that he would return as soon as he possibly could.
The steward was very attentive as he waited at table, and chatted with
the ladies in an affable though perfectly respectful manner.
“Yes, ladies, we shall be slowly moving down the river to meet the
vessel which, I understand, has your party of friends on board.”
“But we are surely passing out of the harbour,” remarked Miss Chain, in
accents of astonishment.
“Just so, ladies,” said the steward; “the vessel has to be turned, and
we may run out a short way to be able to swing her safely.”
“Isn’t that most unusual?” exclaimed Miss Dove.
“Not with a vessel of this class,” explained the steward.
“Oh, dear,” cried Miss Chain, “but we are passing into rough water.”
“There is a slight swell, ladies. It is caused by the tide. She will be
steadier directly. Perhaps you would prefer to lie down?”
“Oh, no, no, we would sooner go on deck,” cried Edith Dove, not clearly
understanding their position.
“If you ladies just keep quiet for one minute,” said the steward, “I
will step up and ask the captain how far they are going to run out to
meet the Dieppe boat before turning.”
“But isn’t this a passenger boat?” asked Miss Chain.
“Well, no, not exactly,” said the steward, with a smile which he seemed
trying to suppress.
Then a strange thing happened, for a groan and a kind of hysterical
scream were heard, and seemed to issue from a cabin not far away, as
though some lady passenger was ill on board. And at the same moment a
stewardess came into the saloon and tried to persuade Miss Dove and
Miss Chain to lie down, and invited them to take some decoction, which
she extolled as a certain specific against sea-sickness.
“Thank you, nothing of that sort. I really don’t understand where we
are going, or what they are doing with the ship.”
“I am a stranger myself to the ship,” said the stewardess; “in fact,
most of us are.”
“Do pray explain yourself more clearly, it will be better for you.
There is, we think,” cried Miss Dove, in a state of alarm, “some
mistake or mystery about our being here.”
Then another groan was heard.
“Poor, dear lady, she is bad; I must go to her,” said the stewardess,
as she left the saloon.
Then Edith Dove and Miss Chain made a rush for the deck to ascertain
what was going on, but the steward, however, who was descending the
companion ladder, begged the ladies to keep below for a short while,
stating that the captain was himself coming down. Shortly afterwards he
appeared, accompanied by the mate. Both seemed to be Frenchmen, and the
mate the only one who could speak English intelligibly.
“We are running out a longer distance than we thought of doing before
we turn, as we wish to sight the Dieppe steamer before doing so.”
This statement did not at all satisfy the ladies, particularly as the
man had a repulsive appearance, whilst he limped as though he was not
quite sober. However, he soon moved off in search of more drink. Then
the captain, touching his hat most respectfully, handed a folded paper,
on which was written in English,--“I am Captain Ami, and if you have
faith in me no harm will befall you.” Then, saluting the ladies, he
left them without another word.
But this announcement was so strange and unaccountable that Edith
Dove and Miss Chain, though to some extent relieved, were still in an
alarming state of fright lest this Captain Ami might be an agent, not
of the Harbour Company, but of the man they most dreaded, namely Falcon.
“Couldn’t we further test this man and insist on going on deck?” said
Miss Chain.
“Certainly, dear, we will go.”
And no hindrance was made to their doing this. When they stood on deck,
they looked round them, and discovered that they were already some
distance from the shore. Scanning the people on board, they were at
once attracted by the presence of a slouching figure, who kept entirely
in the fore part of the vessel, while the captain and the mate chatted
together near the wheel.
“Edith, dear, I can’t take my eyes off that horrid-looking man in the
fore part of the vessel, who seems trying to avoid our inspection.
Although he looks as dark as a mulatto, I believe it is none other than
that arch-fiend Falcon.”
“Oh, Miss Chain, if that is so, we are undone, and you may depend that
we have been kidnapped. That letter must have been a forgery, and not
from the harbour-master’s agent at all.”
“Well, these men will not surely dare to offer us any insult. Perhaps
they are holding us to ransom, trying to make terms so as to escape
prosecution for the robbery of the securities. One thing is certain, we
must not show the slightest sign of fear.”
“This vessel,” said Miss Dove, “is evidently a hired yacht.”
“And going,” added Miss Chain, “goodness knows where. Ah! there is that
cry again from that poor woman! By the way, who can she be? Is she also
in their power? Do you know, dear, that her voice seems oddly familiar
to me. If it were not quite impossible, I would say it was my mother’s.”
“I told you, dear,” said Miss Dove, “that we had more trouble before
us. What will my poor, dear father do, when we fail to return?”
“I am sure that God will help us, Miss Dove. Oh, listen to that poor
sea-sick creature below.”
“Couldn’t you slip down in the saloon and speak to the stewardess about
her, my dear Miss Chain?”
“We ought not to separate,” said her companion. “By the way, how are we
off for money?”
“I have very little,” said Miss Dove.
“Suppose we try and get down in the saloon, then. I don’t suppose they
will keep us below, or exercise restraint if we do not seem to be aware
that we are entrapped.”
“Perhaps not; let us venture, Miss Chain.”
When they descended, they found that the stewardess was fully expecting
their arrival, and had been in and out of the ladies’ cabin preparing
for them, for there was a lumpy sea on and a nasty look outside the
south coast in the direction they were going. They had not been down
below many minutes before the groans of the poor sufferer were again
heard. Then Miss Chain came close to Miss Dove and whispered to her,--
“Make some excuse to get the stewardess on deck with you; say that
you want her arm to steady you as you can’t stop below. Say anything
you like, but get the woman out of the way, for I intend to solve
the mystery of those distressful cries myself, and learn the poor
creature’s story.”
It was some little time before Miss Dove could carry out this
stratagem, but at length she succeeded. They had no sooner disappeared,
than Miss Chain approached the cabin where the sick woman lay. She had
been locked in, but the key had been carelessly left in the door. No
words can express Miss Chain’s horror and astonishment on beholding her
dear mother, who, putting her finger to her lips, begged her to speak
low.
“I have been trying for some time to draw your attention, dear,” said
Mrs Chain, “as I heard you in the saloon, and thank God for this chance
of telling you that I am sure we are kidnapped, no doubt by that wretch
Falcon, who would not hesitate to carry us out to sea and even take
our lives. Be quick, dear, and take this leather bag, for it contains
money which you may want. It is part of the proceeds of the fifty-pound
cheque Miss Dove most kindly sent me a while ago, when she heard the
story of our losses through Falcon. My idea is that you should bribe
the stewardess, and also terrify her by informing her that Miss Dove is
the daughter of the squire, who is a magistrate.”
“My dear mother, how providential is this meeting, and how singularly
opportune is Miss Dove’s present to you at a time when it may assist us
and her too. But how came you here, mother?”
“I was told in a letter that I was to meet you and Miss Dove on board a
yacht. But when I got on board yesterday, I discovered that I had been
entrapped. Then, in my hearing, Falcon told the stewardess that if I
attempted to communicate with anyone who might come on board I should
be put down in the fore hold. Fearing that he would carry out his
threat, I had recourse to pretending to be desperately sea-sick, so as
to give him the impression that I was too ill to notice anything around
me.”
“But have they hired this yacht for a cruise, or for what purpose?”
“Oh, I don’t know, dear child; but from what the mate told me after I
was entrapped yesterday, they are going over to Havre first of all to
meet a friend who had preceded them.”
“I dare not stay longer now, dear mother, as the stewardess will be
coming down. But keep up heart, for I have some idea that we may have a
friend on board after all. Hush! I can’t say more, someone is coming.”
It was quite excusable of Miss Chain after such an exciting episode to
throw herself on a lounge, and she thought it might allay suspicion if
she affected indisposition.
When Miss Dove entered the cabin, she was looking very pale and
anxious, but Miss Chain made her a sign not to address her at present.
Thinking the ladies were both ill, the stewardess again strongly
recommended her marine cordial, as she called it.
“You need not be suspicious of it. I will prepare it in your presence,
ladies. It will do neither of us any harm, I assure you, and I will
drink some of it myself first, if you like.”
“You must not suppose that we mistrust you, stewardess,” said Miss
Chain, who had aroused herself. “We are intending to make you a liberal
present if you are kind and true to us, and it may pay you better to
study our comfort and safety, than to oblige others on board of this
ship. Perhaps you don’t know that this young lady is a magistrate’s
daughter, and that, when she is found to be missing, this vessel will
be pursued, and all confederates in these criminal proceedings of
kidnapping will be brought to justice.”
“Oh, lor’, miss, I’m no confederate, but only a hired servant. There,
come into this other cabin, where we shall not be overheard.”
“Certainly,” said Miss Chain, “if you will not mind if we have a few
words there alone first.”
“By all means, ladies. That cabin is entirely at your disposal. No one
will interrupt you there, and in the meantime, I will see after my
other charge. But I hope you won’t think badly of _me_,” went on the
garrulous woman, “for I’m not mixed up with these parties as have hired
the yacht. I was told it was simply an elopement, and that I should be
well paid for my services.”
“But can’t you see,” said Miss Chain, “that it is a vile kidnapping
affair?”
“Oh, good Lord! And me a respectable Sussex woman. What a fool I
was not to have made inquiries before I ventured on board the old
_Panther_.”
“Is that her name?” asked Miss Dove.
“Yes, miss, but please to have your private talk at once, so that I can
see you before the bad weather comes on. I’m told the glass is falling
very fast, and that they are preparing for a rough night of it.”
It did not take Miss Chain very long to reveal the discovery she had
made to Edith Dove, who was much shocked to find that Miss Chain’s
mother was imprisoned on board in a separate cabin. She was much
affected when her companion offered to return to her the bag of gold
and notes, part of the cheque her kindness of heart had prompted her
to send to Mrs Chain.
“You said, dear, it would be turned to a good and useful account. How
wonderful are the ways of Providence. This proof of it inspires me
with hope, but you must be cashier. Now tell me, Miss Chain, don’t you
think it would be good policy to give the stewardess, say, five pounds,
_i.e._, unless you see some other way of turning this godsend to better
account, as your tact and judgment are superior to mine. And do, if we
can manage it, let me see your mother, for we may meet for the first
and last time, if this bloodthirsty monster is bent on our destruction.”
“We must work together to prevent such an awful catastrophe as you
and my poor mother picture, Miss Dove. But, dear me, how rough it is
getting.”
The stewardess, on reappearing, said she was not sorry that a storm
was brewing, as Mr Filcher, the party who had engaged the yacht, would
remain probably on deck longer than he might have done if it had been
calm, as he expected it to be.
“But you know him, ladies, I have no doubt. Please to lie down, for
I hear him on the companion; he is coming down to have a drink, and
perhaps to see where you are. If he thinks you are sleeping, it will be
better for all of us.”
After Falcon, with an unsteady gait, had partaken of a glass of brandy
and water, he spoke in a subdued voice to the steward, and said that
it was not fit weather for ladies to be on deck, and he was not over
well pleased with the skipper’s seamanship, so that he would like to be
near him, as it looked very stormy outside.
“Very well, sir. Please to mind our companion steps, Mr Filcher, as
they are awfully steep. You will excuse me calling your attention to
it, as I knew a man on board the _Neptune_, a full-rigged ship in which
I once sailed, who, I was given to understand, was pitched down the
companion in a gale of wind and broke his neck.”
“There was an end of him, then,” cried Falcon, with a sneer. “He can
tell no tales. However, you can finish about him next call, for I don’t
feel very well in this atmosphere.”
“Too close for you, sir, perhaps.”
“Almost too hot down here.”
“I don’t feel it so myself, sir.”
“Don’t suppose you do. Why, it blows stiffer than ever.”
Having had recourse several times to her “marine cordial,” the
stewardess found no difficulty in getting off to sleep; indeed, her
stertorous breathing in the adjoining cabin soon assured Miss Chain
and Miss Dove that they might venture to visit Mrs Chain in her cabin
unobserved once more; but for a time the dread of falling down, and
the bare idea of the stewardess being awake, kept them from active
exertion. Still, if that frightful snore they were assailed by was real
and no sham, they could both creep along the carpeted floor and say
a word or two to the poor old lady. And this they did, and were much
encouraged by each other’s society. One thing they determined upon,
and that was not to venture on deck, believing that Falcon entertained
designs on their lives. They argued that he could easily pitch them
overboard during the darkness of the night and the fury of the gale and
no one be wiser, their disappearance being easily accounted for on the
supposition that they had been washed overboard.
Another hour at least passed, when nought was heard save the noise of
the storm and the snores of the stewardess. They listened with constant
dread lest anyone should approach their cabin. Indeed, they began to
indulge in the hope that they might safely get some sleep, when they
were aroused by a tremendous noise as of something falling heavily. The
steward, bewildered, rushed from his berth and called for help. Several
sailors, with the captain, descended to find their employer nearly
unconscious. Evidently he had disregarded the steward’s advice of
being careful, and had pitched down the companion in his half-muddled
condition. Falcon was lifted up and placed on a lounge.
“Is there no doctor on board?” asked Miss Dove, imploringly.
“No, miss,” replied the steward.
“Would a restorative be of any use?” asked Miss Chain.
“No, no, he too much cognac had,” said the captain, who was feeling
Falcon’s pulse; and after doing so for some time, he said, “I tink he
not live long. Ve must take him somevere; he no speak.”
“Couldn’t that old lady be moved,” asked Miss Chain.
“Sans doubt,” said the captain.
“Very well, then,” said the stewardess, “I’ll put the old lady into the
large cabin with these ladies, _i.e._, if they don’t object.”
“Why, certainly not, we should be glad to have her company.”
The question then arose as to what they were going to do. Captain Ami
said,--
“Ve must go ahead stead-dy till daylight come--den pere-haps ve see
some ship or get doctere from Cherbourg if he live. Aftere dat ve go
back to Eengland.”
Naturally it was with unspeakable delight that the ladies heard the
captain say, “Ve must go back to Eengland.” Then they recollected his
own words to them, which were, “To have faith in him.” Yet the thought
would obtrude itself on their minds that Falcon’s fall down the ladder
might not have been quite such an accident as they had at first judged
it to be.