The sun was in the act of disappearing behind the fringe of jungle which
clothes the western hilltops of Thursday Island, when our schooner
passed through Prince of Wales' Straits and dropped her anchor off the
small township of Port Kennedy. Every one on board was on deck at the
moment, and I can vouch for the fact that in two minds at least, those
of Mr. Leversidge and myself, there was a feeling of intense excitement.
Ever since we had sat together in the schooner's cabin, and I had told
him of the terrible discovery I had made in his agent's berth on board
the _Monarch of Macedonia_, we had been longing for the moment to arrive
when we should reach the island, and either find ourselves face to face
with the Reverend Colway-Brown or learn something which would eventually
lead us to him. That he would be foolish enough, after what had
happened, to remain any longer in the island than he could help, I did
not for a moment suppose. He would naturally be anxious to put as many
miles as possible between himself and the wreck, and also to reach some
place where he could dispose of the jewel. There were half a hundred
reasons why he should not attempt to do so in Thursday Island. In the
first place, there was no one there who could give him the price he
would be likely to ask, and in the second it must be remembered that it
was in this very locality it had first made its appearance and attracted
so much attention. To have shown it there, or to have allowed any one to
have suspected its presence, would have been an act of the wildest
folly, and it was plain that the Reverend Colway-Brown was no fool. For
these reasons I felt convinced in my own mind that when we went ashore
to make inquiries we should find our bird flown.
Prior to sighting the island we had held a conference with the skipper
in the deck-house, when Mr. Leversidge had discharged the amount due for
the hire of the vessel, and at the same time had supplemented it with a
handsome present to her officers and crew. As far as they were concerned
I was sure the secret of our visit to the wreck would be in safe hands.
This business matter having been settled to every one's satisfaction, as
soon as the anchor was down we collected our baggage and descended into
the boat which was waiting for us alongside. As we did so a steamer
rounded the point and approached the anchorage. I recognised her and
made a note of the fact in my own mind for future use, in case it should
be necessary.
It was not the first time I had been in Thursday Island by many a score,
and I was well acquainted with the customs and peculiarities of the
place and its inhabitants. I did not, therefore, waste my time making
inquiries in any of the grog shanties beside the beach, but passed along
the front until I reached the most gorgeous caravanserai of all, the
Hotel of All Nations. It was here, I felt certain, if anywhere, that we
should hear some tidings of the man we were after. Accordingly, I walked
through the verandah, and, with Mr. Leversidge at my heels, entered the
bar. The real business hour had not yet arrived, and for this reason,
save for a Kanaka asleep in a corner, and a gorgeously upholstered youth
polishing glasses behind the counter, the bar was deserted. It was plain
that the latter had never seen me before, or, if he had, that he had
forgotten both my name and the circumstances under which we had last
met. I accordingly bade him call his employer to me.
"Good gracious, can it be you, Mr. Collon?" exclaimed the latter as he
entered the room and saw me standing before him; "I thought you were in
China. Leastways, Bill Smith, of the _Coral Queen_, was only saying
yesterday that the mate of the _Chang Tung_ saw you at Foochow the last
time he was up there, which was about five months ago."
"Five months is a long time," I said, with a laugh. "It is possible for
a good deal to happen in that time. Five months ago, if you had told any
of the people who went down in the _Monarch of Macedonia_ what was
before them, they would not have believed you."
"That was a bad thing, wasn't it?" he replied, shaking his head. "I
suppose you know that the only persons who escaped were brought on here.
As a matter of fact, I took them in."
"I guessed as much," I answered. "I said to my friend here, as we came
along, that I felt certain they would come to the Hotel of All Nations."
"Yes; I took them in. The foremast hand, however, went up in the China
boat the following day; but the Rev. Colway-Brown stayed longer."
"The deuce he did!" As I said this I glanced at the bar-tender, who was
listening with both his ears. I had no desire that he should hear what
we had to say, so I drew his employer a little on one side, saying, "By
the way, Birch, can we have five minutes with you alone in your own
private room?"
"And why not?" he replied. "Surely, if there's one man in this world
who's we'come, it's you, Dick Collon. Come along with me, gentlemen, and
let us have our talk together."
A few moments later we were installed in the hospitable landlord's
private office, from the windows of which a magnificent view could be
obtained of the harbour, the islands beyond, and, on a very clear day,
of Cape York, the most northerly coast line of Australia, peeping up
miles away to the southward. Many and strange would be the stories that
the room could tell were it possible for it to speak. In it men had sold
their birthrights to all intents and purposes for a mess of pottage; in
it others, who had hitherto been considered nobodies, had learnt the
news that the tide of fortune had turned for them, and that for the
future they were to take their places among the high-born of the earth.
In that room men flying from justice in the South, who had believed
themselves beyond the reach of pursuit and had come ashore while the
mail-boat coaled, had been arrested. For me alone that room had at least
a hundred different memories and associations. I had been familiar with
it for many years, but this much I can safely say, never had I entered
it on such a strange errand as that which was now engrossing all my
attention.
"Well, what can I do for you?" asked Birch, when he had invited us to be
seated and had closed the door behind him.
"I want to ask a particular favour of you," I said. "I want you to tell
me all you know about the Reverend Colway-Brown."
"The man we were speaking of just now?" Birch asked, with an expression
of surprise; "the only survivor from the wreck?"
"Exactly," I answered. "My friend here is very much interested in him,
and is most anxious to find him."
"In that case I am afraid you have come too late," Birch replied. "He
left for Brisbane last week in the _Oodnadatta_. He wanted to get back
to Sydney, he said, as soon as possible. We took up a collection for
him, and the steamship company granted him a free passage South. I
reckon the poor chap wanted it, for he'd lost everything he possessed in
the world, and came out of that wreck just as near stone broke as a man
could well be."
"Feeling pretty miserable, too, I don't doubt," I said.
"Miserable is no word for it," he answered; "you never saw such a
doleful chap, nor I'll be bound one half so frightened, in your life.
All the time he was in this house he was just ready to jump away from
his own shadow at a moment's notice. As nervous and timid as a baby.
Couldn't bear to be left by himself, and yet as unsociable as could be
when you were with him. Small wonder, say I, when you come to think of
what he had been through. It's a mystery to me how he came out of it
alive."
"Did he tell you much about it while he was here?" inquired Leversidge.
"I suppose he gave you his experiences in detail?"
"That's just the funny part of it," Birch replied. "Do what you would
you could not get that poor chap to talk about 'that terrible night,' as
he called it. On any other subject he could be interesting enough when
he liked, but directly you began to question him about the wreck or
anything connected with the vessel, he would put his hands up to his
eyes and shudder as if he saw the whole thing happening over again. For
my own part I don't think he'll ever be able to forget it. It will be a
nightmare to him as long as he lives."
"So I should imagine," said Leversidge, with such unusual emphasis that
our host, who was in the act of pouring us out some refreshment, paused
and looked at him in surprise.
I hastened to continue the conversation. "Poor chap!" I said; "from all
accounts he must have stood pretty close to death that night. Now what
we are trying to do is to find him. You say he went South last week in
the _Oodnadatta_, intending to bring up in Sydney. You don't happen to
know what his address is there, do you? It is of the utmost importance
to us that we should find him with as little delay as possible."
Birch thought for a few moments, and then shook his head. "I'm afraid I
can tell you nothing that would help you," he said. "All the fellow
wanted from morning till night was to get South as fast as possible. His
wife was in Sydney, he said, and he was afraid she would be anxious
until she saw him in the flesh again. That was his one cry--get
South--get South."
"And he never told you whether he lived in Sydney or out in the Bush?"
"He never told us where he lived at all. On that point he was as silent
as an oyster."
"But if he's a parson, it should not be a very difficult matter to find
out where his charge is," said Mr. Leversidge; "particularly now that
there's been all this light thrown on his name. Of course you know of
what persuasion he was a minister?"
Here to our amazement Birch smacked his knee and burst into a roar of
laughter. This was more than I could stand. "Confound you," I said,
"what on earth are you laughing at?"
"At the idea of your asking me what persuasion he was a minister of.
It's as good as a play."
"How so? I don't see anything funny in it."
"Don't you? Well, then, I do," returned Birch. "In the first place, my
old friend Collon, and you, Mr. Leversidge, it gives you both away
pretty thoroughly. You told me just now that you knew the man and wanted
to help him. All I can say is, that if you do you know precious little
about him. Why, gentlemen, I tell you that that parson was as tough a
bird as any I've met. He may or may not be a labourer in the vineyard,
but all I _can_ say is that, if he _is_, he's got the finest command of
bad language for a minister that ever I've heard, and I can do a bit
that way myself. The day after he landed here, one of my Kanaka boys
spilt some hot soup on his hand at table, and he rounded on him and gave
him the most infernal cursing ever I heard in all my born days. I tell
you it made the whole table sit up like one man. If he talks to his
congregation like that, it's no wonder they sent him home for a sea
voyage."
Leversidge and I looked at each other, you may be sure, on hearing this.
"Well, if you can tell us nothing more, I'm afraid it's no use our
waiting on in the island. There's a mail-boat at anchor now. I think the
best thing we can do, Mr. Leversidge, would be to board her and set off
for Brisbane, _en route_ to Sydney, as quickly as we can go."
"I agree with you," answered my companion. "Good-day, Mr. Birch, and
thank you for your courtesy."
"Don't mention that, I beg, sir," returned the affable Birch. "I only
wish I could do more to help you in your search for your friend."
I shook hands with him in my turn, and was following Leversidge towards
the verandah steps, when Birch called me back. Sinking his voice he
said, "What is it, Dick, my lad? What's your little game? Why do you
want this swearing parson so badly?"
"A matter of business," I answered; "a mere matter of business."
Birch smiled knowingly, and winked at me. "A Hatton Garden bit of
business, I suppose," he said. "You surely don't think I failed to
recognise your friend, did you? Now, shall I do you a good turn?"
"By all means," I replied. "I'd do you one if I could."
"Well, then, take this on board with you, and think it over at your
leisure. The day the parson left us he came to me alone in my room
yonder and offered me----"
"Offered you what?" I said, forgetting that I might be overheard.
"One of the finest black pearls I ever saw or heard of," he answered.
"He wanted me to buy it, but I refused, so he had to take it away with
him to his poor wife in Sydney. There, what do you think of that?"
"Thank you, John," I said, warmly shaking him by the hand. "You've told
me just what I wanted to know. Good-bye."
On the way down the hill I informed Leversidge of what I had been told.
He stopped in the dust and looked at me. "Good," he said, wagging his
head sagaciously. "That removes all doubt as to whether he was the man
who stole the pearls."
"And it also proves without a shadow of a doubt that he was the demon
who cut your agent's throat. My Reverend Colway-Brown, there is a day of
retribution saving up for you, or I'm very much mistaken."
"But what do you think of it all?"
"What do I think? Why, I think his reverence must have been a little off
his head when he offered Birch that pearl. It's by slips like that that
they give themselves away. Now here's the boat; let's board her and
continue the chase."