At first, it happened that he threw many a tender glance at Miss Frick,
and on that account I felt not a little inclined to quarrel with him.
But as this was only a repetition of what had happened in the past two
months with half a dozen other young men who visited Villa Ballarat, I
was sensible enough to allow these feelings to have only a momentary
hold upon me.
He soon kept his eyes to himself, probably because he saw "how the land
lay," as the sailors have it.
One thing which, in a great measure, spoke in the young Englishman's
favour, was his apparent modesty.
When his father died the year before,--he had until then lived in
Australia,--the son decided to go to Europe, and he took his passage on
a sailing ship. But the vessel had caught fire in the open sea, and the
passengers and crew had had to take to the boats. Only one of the boats
had reached land--the one in which Reginald Howell and eight others had
saved themselves. But the boat foundered on a coral reef, and Mr.
Howell at last found himself, the only survivor, on a little island. The
natives were friendly to him, and after two months' stay there, he
sighted a ship which brought him to England.
People seldom refuse to relate interesting stories when they concern
themselves; but it was only after repeated appeals from old Frick that
Mr. Howell was at last induced to give a very sober and curtailed
description of his adventurous voyage.
It was easy to understand that he must have behaved very coolly and
bravely under such terrible circumstances, and that it was only due to
his presence of mind and courage that he was able to save himself, yet
he seldom spoke of himself, and then always in the most modest manner
possible.
In short, he had the habit, owing either to the way in which he had been
brought up, or by nature, seldom or never of speaking about himself,--a
habit which never fails to make a favourable impression.
When the young man came to England, he of course gave the authorities an
exact account of the wreck of the _Queen of the East_, and the fate of
the crew. The account had been published in several of the English
papers, and he laughingly proffered to show us some of these papers if
we found his verbal account not exhaustive enough.
Mr. Howell had come to Norway at the express invitation of old Frick,
who, when he had heard of his old friend's death, had written and asked
the son to visit him in Norway. The young man had received Frick's
letter just when he was on the point of sailing from Australia--he had
already arranged previously to visit Europe--and had notified his
departure by telegraph.
"You did right, Reginald, in coming as quickly as possible to your
father's old friend. I suppose you intend to spend the winter with us.
You can learn to go on 'ski' here; a fine sport, I can tell you. You
must live with us. I have had two rooms made ready for you here in
Villa Ballarat."
Mr. Howell said he thought he would avail himself of the invitation for
one or two months; he was a keen sportsman, and had long ago made up his
mind to have a look at, and a try at, ski-running.
"That's right," cried old Frick, clinking his champagne glass against
that of the Englishman. "The whole house and all that I possess is at
the disposal of my old friend's son. After dinner you shall hear what I
owe him. I don't suppose I need offer to assist you with any money, for
in his last letter to me your father wrote that he would leave you
everything he possessed, for your mother died when you were a little
boy, and you were the only child. Your father was not so very rich, but
I think he wrote something about L1200 a year."
"Yes, thereabouts," replied the young man, good-naturedly, and smiling
at the kind old man's loquacity; "and that is more than enough for me."
"Then perhaps I had better strike out your name from my will; it has,
until now, been standing beside those of Sigrid and Einar."
We all laughed heartily and rose from the table.
When we were drinking our coffee, and had lighted our cigars, old Frick
began the story of his friendship with Howell the elder, and the
adventures which had bound these two so closely together.
To tell the truth, I tried my best to slip away, hoping for a chat alone
with Sigrid; but that couldn't be managed, and after having heard old
Frick's story, I must confess that only a man in love could dream of
anything more interesting than his account of it.
I should like to give it in all its detail, and in old Frick's words,
but I cannot, and I must restrict myself to giving you the main points
in his story.
Bartholomew Frick had left Norway and run away to sea in 1830; his
desire for adventure and his dislike for the schoolroom had driven him
to this.
For many years he roamed about in the great East, in India, South
Africa, and Australia, sometimes as a sailor, and sometimes as a hunter
and adventurer on shore.
Then, at the end of the forties, he found himself in Australia when the
gold fever was just beginning to rage. Soon after, a party of three
people started for Melbourne to proceed to the gold districts. One was
Frick, who was the eldest of them, and two Englishmen, Howell and Davis.
The acquaintanceship of these three men--they were adventurers, but all
of good family--was not of long standing; but it developed, in the
course of the following year, into strong friendship and most faithful
comradeship.
They led the usual life of gold diggers for many years, and sometimes,
when they were lucky, they would go off to Melbourne and spend their
money in a few days' time.
Having gone through many ups and downs in the course of seven years,
they at last came across a rich find of gold, and realized a fortune in
a couple of months.
The partnership was then dissolved. Howell, who was the quietest and
most level-headed of them, bought a large piece of land and took to
sheep farming. In this way he was able to preserve his fortune and even
to add to it, although he had not been one of the most fortunate.
On the other hand, Frick and Davis did not think they had enough. The
money they had made enabled them to carry out a plan which Frick had
thought of, and which for a long time they had been anxious to carry
out.
In the middle of the thirties Frick, when quite a young man, had been in
South Africa. He then followed the settlers who trekked to the north
across the Orange River, and who had joined in raids across the river
Vaal, and still farther to the north.
When on these expeditions Frick himself had found diamonds, and had
heard wonderful stories from the natives of the great quantities of
these stones which were to be found in caverns of a peculiar formation,
reminding one more of deserted mines than anything else.
Frick had obtained the report through a source which did not admit of
doubt that there was at least some truth in it; and the location given
with regard to the place seemed to be efficient. But he could not then
get any companions to form an expedition, as the supposed place lay far
away in the desert, blocked by wild and hostile negro tribes. Nor had he
at that time the means to fit out an expedition by himself, and he was
therefore obliged to give up all thoughts of it. These were the
diamonds in search of which Frick and Davis decided to go.
"Davis seemed to me to be just the right sort of a man," remarked old
Frick, when he had gone thus far in his narrative; "he was at least
double as greedy about finding the diamonds as I."
Now that they were able, the two companions journeyed at once to the
Cape, bought themselves an excellent outfit, and hired people sufficient
for a large expedition.
The money which they did not spend on the outfit they sent to the bank
in London.
It was Davis who managed all that; he was the most businesslike of the
two.
This expedition got as far as the Vaal, but did not return, and this is
how it happened.
When they had got so far that, according to Frick's and Davis's
calculations, they should be only a day's journey from the diamond
caves, they let the natives, with the ox wagons, camp, while they
themselves continued their journey alone.
They were lucky enough to find what Frick maintained must have been
Solomon's deserted mines, and they filled a whole sack with diamonds.
But when they reached the camp they found it had been plundered, and all
the members of the expedition killed by a hostile negro tribe.
Frick and Davis were also captured after a hard struggle.
In the night Davis, who was uninjured, succeeded in escaping, but Frick,
who had received an arrow in his thigh, could not follow him.
Davis, with Frick's consent, took with him the bag of diamonds, and
promised immediately on reaching civilization to prepare a new
expedition for the release of Frick.
In the meantime, the blacks dragged him with them farther and farther
inland, where it was impossible for him to think of flight, and so he
lived with them for three years.
At last a gang of European pioneers turned up far in the interior of the
dark continent where the tribe lived, and before the blacks had thought
of keeping guard on Frick, he had joined the whites and followed them to
their own settlements.
In all probability the blacks had, after such a long time, come to look
upon Frick as one of themselves.
When Frick reached civilization the first thing he did was to ask after
his friend Davis.
Yes, he had returned safely to the Cape Colony, but had not mentioned a
word about any relief expedition for Frick. On the contrary, he had
given out that Frick was dead, and had gone straight to England. He had
mentioned that he had some diamonds with him, but he had not shown them
to any one.
Frick was not very well pleased with this information, as you can
imagine. He still had a few small diamonds with him, which he had found
during his stay among the blacks. These he sold for a couple of hundred
pounds, and set out for England to find Davis.
Here he discovered that the latter had drawn all the money out of the
bank, had sold all the diamonds, and having bought a large country
estate, was now living, a landed proprietor, in Yorkshire. Frick set off
to visit Davis at his country house, but was not even allowed to enter.
Davis refused to deliver up any part whatsoever of the money that had
been deposited in the bank, or any of that which he had received from
the sale of the diamonds.
When Frick became furious and tried to force his way in to the
scoundrel, he was turned away by the servants.
Frick then applied to the police, but they advised him to take legal
proceedings. He would have to engage a lawyer in order to proceed
against his old comrade.
It was not a difficult matter to find a lawyer, or even lawyers, but
none of them would take up the case unless Frick would guarantee them
their fees and expenses first. Davis was rich and powerful, and would
naturally use all the weapons with which the English law so lavishly
favours those who have few scruples and plenty of money.
Frick raged awhile like a lion in a cage, but happily he pulled himself
together and shipped to Australia before he had become quite "mad from
anger," as he expressed it himself.
In Australia he was well received by the third member of the late
partnership, and when Howell got to learn of the story, he became just
as furious over Davis's rascality as Frick himself. It was, however, an
unfortunate period with Howell. His farm had just been visited by a
huge flood, and the larger part of his flock of sheep had been drowned.
But Howell did not give in. He would not hear of Frick's remonstrances,
but raised, with much difficulty, a loan of L5000 on his property. This
money he forced upon Frick, and when the latter saw that his friend
would not listen to reason, he no longer hesitated, but went back to
England with the money.
There was now no difficulty in getting the affair taken up. A clever
lawyer was engaged, and the case against Davis was carried on with all
possible despatch.
Frick himself thought he should never succeed in bringing him to bay.
Davis had understood how to make use of the time to guard himself well,
and had employed all means to delay the case.
Frick's L5000 was fast disappearing, when his lawyer was fortunate
enough to discover some dark doings in Davis's life before the time when
Frick had learnt to know him.
These doings were of such a character that Davis, who in the meantime
had been elected M.P. for his county, had to, at any price, prevent them
being made public. He was therefore obliged to agree to a compromise,
and to pay Frick half of what he was worth, which, after all, was only
what was Frick's due.
"In the end, I got such a good hold of the rascal," continued old Frick,
"that he not only offered to pay all I asked for, but he even wrote me a
humble letter, and begged me, for God's sake, not to make the affair
public. 'It would completely ruin him,' he wrote.
"As Davis had invested all the cash in his estate, it was difficult to
get ready money. But the affair was at last settled, and I have not
told the story to any one. I did not give any promise to this effect,
but it's just as well that you, who have now heard it, also keep it
quiet. If it can help the scoundrel to repent of his sins in peace and
comfort for the rest of his days, it is no doubt the best.
"It was not possible to get your father, Mr. Reginald, to accept
anything more than the L5000 he had lent me, although I was now much
richer than he. No, he was as proud as Lucifer, just as proud as he was
faithful."
With the exception of Mr. Howell, we had all listened with the greatest
interest to old Frick's long story. In spite of Mr. Howell's good
manners, his impatience had several times been noticeable, even to the
story-teller himself.
The latter remarked: "Yes, you have, of course, heard the story several
times before from your father, Reginald; so for your sake it was hardly
necessary to tell it. But I am anxious that those who stand nearest to
me in the world should know what a friend your father was to me."
Mr. Howell smiled, somewhat embarrassed; "Yes, of course, I have heard
the story from my father two or three times. But you can understand he
did not lay so much stress upon the help he gave you. It was no more,
he said, than a man's duty to a friend; and that's what I think also."
"He is his father's son!" exclaimed old Frick, and was not satisfied
until he had seized the Englishman's hand and shaken it vigorously,
although the latter modestly tried to avoid it.
"Did you ever hear anything later about Davis?" he asked after a pause.
"No, not much!" answered old Frick. "He was already married when I took
proceedings against him, but I don't think it was a very happy marriage;
his wife took care to see that a good deal of the punishment he so well
deserved was carried out. Later on, I also heard that he had much
trouble in managing his large property, after he had been obliged to
take out so much capital. Ah, well, that's his own lookout; we have,
thank God, something else to talk about than that scoundrel. One thing,
however, I forgot to mention, is, that when Davis was forced to pay me
back half the money, I took the black diamond in its present setting,
the one we call 'the tortoise.' I took that over for L2000, which would
be about its value in its uncut condition. We found it, just as it is,
up in Solomon's mines. It was the only one of the diamonds that Davis
had not sold."
*CHAPTER IV*
*THE BLACK TORTOISE AGAIN*
I have little to relate about the months which followed after that
Sunday at Mr. Frick's.
Young Mr. Howell still lived in the house; he took a fancy to "ski"
sport, and learnt it in a surprisingly short time.
He accepted Frick's pressing invitation to remain in Christiania till
the summer, when he intended visiting Finland and Spitsbergen.
Einar Frick and Reginald Howell became good friends, in spite of the
difference in age, much to the satisfaction of old Frick. They were
always together, and I fancy old Frick was not very strict during this
time with regard to his nephew's office hours.
A detective, however, incidentally gets to know a good many things, and
I soon discovered that the two young men did not always pursue the most
innocent pleasures. Even in Christiania, there are always to be found
at least a dozen young good-for-nothings, who have plenty of money and
nothing to do. Einar and Mr. Reginald became regular visitors in this
circle, where later it became the fashion to gamble, and not for very
low stakes, either.
I became uneasy about this, and one day I spoke to Einar and gave him a
serious warning.
By the young man's blushing and frank confession, I saw that he had not
as yet entirely fallen a victim to evil influence. Besides, he added
that he had latterly had more pocket money from his uncle, and didn't
play higher than he could afford. Mr. Howell had several times prevented
him from playing for high stakes. He also promised to withdraw
altogether from the gambling circle, which Mr. Howell had said he also
was inclined to do.
This reassured me, and on the whole I must confess that Mr. Howell's
behaviour was in every respect that of a gentleman. That I, in spite of
this, entertained a shadow of antipathy or suspicion about him, is one
of those things which cannot be explained.
One thing I cannot pass over in my story: one fine day, when I summoned
up courage and put the all-important question to Miss Frick, I received
as satisfactory an answer as any man could wish.
She desired that we should, for a time, keep our engagement secret, for
she shrunk from telling her uncle, who would scarcely take the prospect
of losing her with composure. Old Frick was remarkably fond of his
brother's children. The old man had lived his life for many years
without having felt the sunshine of tenderness other than that of
comradeship; now he seemed to be making up for it in the fond relations
between him and the two young people who were tied to him by the ties of
blood as well as by those of gratitude.
I have, all the same, a suspicion that the old fox had an idea of what
had passed between Sigrid and me; and at the same time, I also think
that I had been fortunate enough to win his respect, so that if he were
to lose his niece, he would rather have given her to me than to any one
else.
* * * * *
It was the tenth of May, and a beautiful day; the spring had come
unusually early that year, and the trees were already covered with
leaves.
My work was finished. It had been a long and troublesome day, and I was
just standing in my room, wondering if, as a reward, I should give
myself an evening off and spend it at Villa Ballarat. I had not had time
to visit Sigrid for several days.
Just then I heard the telephone bell.
"Hello! is that you, Monk?"
It was old Frick's voice; I knew it well; it was the same voice that,
eight months ago, had asked me for the first time to come to Villa
Ballarat.
"Yes, it is I."
"Can you come out here at once? Something has happened!"
"I shall be with you in ten minutes."
At St. Olaf's Place I took a carriage; I didn't want to lose a minute.
An uncomfortable feeling possessed me that some misfortune was pending,
or had already occurred. I do not know if one can really have a
presentiment without some material cause; in this case the feeling had
sufficient ground by old Frick's abrupt message.
At the outer gate stood Frick himself, holding it open for me. He
locked the gate carefully after us, stuck the key in his pocket, and
then said, as he stopped in front of me, with his hands in his
pockets:--
"The black tortoise is gone again!"
"Gone?"
"Yes, gone! Stolen, I say," and he raised his voice.
I asked him not to speak so loudly and to explain the matter. It was a
relief for me to hear that it was nothing worse. Little did I suspect
that anything worse could have happened.
"There is no one about who can hear us," said Frick. "It is as I say;
the black tortoise has been stolen again, and within the last few hours.
Since five o'clock."