WHO HE WAS
“You say this man is the captain of the _Argente_?” inquired Mr. Force
of the old skipper, when the prisoners and their guard had passed out of
the room.
“Yes! He is Silver—Silver, the pirate captain! No irons on his wrists
yet! Prisoner of war, is he? Ah! ah! we shall see—we shall see! But my
brave Roland! Taken with him! This, then was the blockade runner’s first
officer whom they were talking about, who was taken with him, and is now
sent to prison with him! Oh, Roland! Roland! Is it possible that you
yielded to temptations to join in a lawless life! But it will cost you
your own life, Roland, my lad! No rescued prisoner from the pirate’s
clutch are you, Roland, but a comrade of pirates yourself! I thought I
knew the boy! I thought I knew him for an honest lad! But I was mistaken
in him! Oh, how mistaken I was!”
While the captain was muttering these lamentations to himself, Mr. Force
was standing in a maze of perplexity—not thinking then so much of Roland
as of the pirate captain.
The earl touched him on the shoulder and aroused him.
“I know the villain!” he said. “I have much cause to know him! His name
is Stukely—Byrne Stukely—once a lieutenant in the royal navy, but
cashiered years ago for dishonorable conduct.”
Mr. Force stared at the speaker, but did not reply.
“Why, Force! You look as if you knew the fellow also! You look as if you
‘could a tale reveal.’ What is it?”
“I know the man. But I know him as Angus Anglesea, Esq., of Anglewood
Manor, late colonel in the East India Service.”
“What, Force! That fellow! He is not Anglesea! He never was in the army
in all his life. He was in the navy, and kicked out for disgracing it.
Is he the man you have known to your grief as Anglesea?”
“He is.”
“Then, Force, the mystery that puzzled me is solved. The inconsistency
that distressed me is reconciled. I never could understand how you could
accuse my friend Angus Anglesea, the Christian gentleman and renowned
soldier, of the base and cowardly crimes committed by your persecutor!
How could I associate theft, forgery and bigamy with such a character as
that of Angus Anglesea? Though they are very consistent with the career
of Byrne Stukely.”
“Who is this man? And how is it that he could take the name and style of
an officer and a gentleman, and deceive us all, even my wife, who had
known Col. Anglesea in his youth?” demanded the squire.
The earl shrugged his shoulders and then replied:
“The fellow is a near relation of Anglesea, and bears a strong personal
resemblance to him. In their youth and early manhood they were
counterparts of each other; but as they have grown older they have
diverged in appearance, so that now no one could mistake the one for the
other. The reason is this—both boys inherited the same form, features
and expression from the same remote ancestor; but they inherited
different dispositions, and have had different trainings. Each has grown
old ‘in the likeness of his love,’ and so they have now grown apart.
Angus Anglesea is of medium size, as well as of medium height; his
features are clean cut, his complexion clear and pale; his expression
grave, sweet, thoughtful, benevolent, intellectual. Stukely is, as you
see, overgrown, with an obese form, bloated features, red face, and a
brutal, sensual, and sometimes ferocious expression.”
“Yes,” replied Abel Force, “and the last three years of lawless life has
made him even more brutal than ever.”
“He was in his earlier life a protégé of Anglesea’s. It was his
influence that got him into the royal navy. But he is and has been for
years a sharp thorn in the side of Angus, taking advantage of his
personal resemblance to his cousin, using his knowledge of his
relative’s affairs and his skill in imitating his handwriting to swindle
every one everywhere who came under his notice. This was the adventurer
who tried to marry your daughter, Force. It is well the marriage was
stopped at the altar, though the California woman, poor soul, had no
right to interfere.”
“Why?” demanded Abel Force.
“Because Stukely has a wife and five children living near Anglewood on
the charity of Angus Anglesea.”
“Thank Heaven!” exclaimed Abel Force, earnestly. “There is now nothing
to prevent the happiness of my dear Odalite and Leonidas.”
“I don’t know what you are both talking about, I am sure,” complained
the old skipper.
“No, you do not know our family history for the last six years, Capt.
Grandiere, or the trouble we have suffered through that man of whom we
have been speaking; but you shall know all at our earliest convenience.”
“But Roland! Oh, Roland! What will become of my boy?” groaned the
captain.
“Can you not prove that he was taken prisoner by the pirate?” demanded
Mr. Force.
“Yes; but I cannot prove that he did not join the pirates, as Silver
told me that he meant to do. And here he is under a false name—Craven
Cloud, first officer to the pirate captain! It looks black! I wish I had
never lived to see this day!” groaned the captain.
After they had waited about half an hour in the hope of seeing Le come
out of the commissioner’s office, Mr. Force went and spoke to the
messenger at the door.
“Do you know whether Lieut. Force, who brought the prize ship with the
prisoners this morning, is now with the commissioner?”
“No, sir; he is not. He came with the prisoners this morning and made
his report, and left them, and then went up to the navy department,”
replied the man.
“Thank you! That will do! Come, Enderby! Come, Grandiere! We may as well
return to the hotel! We shall not be likely to find Le! We must wait
until he comes to us, I suppose! If he only knew what good news waits
him he would hurry!”
“If he only knew that we were in the city, or where to find us! But he
does not, you see,” said the earl.
“Wait one moment,” exclaimed the captain. “I must speak to that man
before we go. Can you tell me where those two prisoners have been sent?”
“To the Old Capitol prison?” replied the messenger.
“Can I get to see them?”
“Only by a permit.”
“Go on, Force! You and the earl! I am going to see my dear boy! Oh,
Heaven! who shall tell poor Rosemary?”