I SAVE AN IMPORTANT LIFE
I travelled to Bournemouth by a fast train, and immediately on arrival
made my way to the office of Messrs. Screw & Matchem, with a view to
instituting inquiries regarding the yacht they had advertised for hire.
It was with the senior partner I transacted my business; a shrewd but
pleasant gentleman.
Upon my making known my business to him, he brought me a photograph of
the craft in question, and certainly a nice handy boat she looked. She
had been built, he went on to inform me, for a young nobleman, who had
made two very considerable excursions in her before he had been
compelled to fly the country, and was only three years old. I learned
also that she was lying in Poole harbour, but he was good enough to say
that if I wished to see her she should be brought round to Bournemouth
the following morning, when I could inspect her at my leisure. As this
arrangement was one that exactly suited me, I closed with it there and
then, and thanking Mr. Matchem for his courtesy, betook myself to my
hotel. Having dined, I spent the evening upon the pier--the first of its
kind I had ever seen--listened to the band and diverted myself with
thoughts of her to whom I had plighted my troth, and whose unexpected
departure from England had been such a sudden and bitter disappointment
to me.
Next morning, faithful to promise, the _Enchantress_ sailed into the bay
and came to an anchor within a biscuit throw of the pier. Chartering a
dinghy, I pulled myself off to her, and stepped aboard. An old man and a
boy were engaged washing down, and to them I introduced myself and
business. Then for half an hour I devoted myself to overhauling her
thoroughly. She was a nice enough little craft, well set up, and from
her run looked as if she might possess a fair turn of speed; the gear
was in excellent order, and this was accounted for when the old man told
me she had been repaired and thoroughly overhauled that selfsame year.
Having satisfied myself on a few other minor points, I pulled ashore and
again went up through the gardens to the agents' office. Mr. Matchem was
delighted to hear that I liked the yacht well enough to think of hiring
her at their own price (a rather excessive one, I must admit), and, I
don't doubt, would have supplied me with a villa in Bournemouth, and a
yachting box in the Isle of Wight, also on their own terms, had I felt
inclined to furnish them with the necessary order. But fortunately I was
able to withstand their temptations, and having given them my cheque for
the requisite amount, went off to make arrangements, and to engage a
crew.
Before nightfall I had secured the services of a handy lad in place of
the old man who had brought the boat round from Poole, and was in a
position to put to sea. Accordingly next morning I weighed anchor for a
trip round the Isle of Wight. Before we had brought the Needles abeam I
had convinced myself that the boat was an excellent sailer, and when the
first day's cruise was over I had no reason to repent having hired her.
Not having anything to hurry me, and only a small boy and my own
thoughts to keep me company, I took my time; remained two days in the
Solent, sailed round the island, put in a day at Ventnor, and so back to
Bournemouth. Then, after a day ashore, I picked up a nice breeze and ran
down to Torquay to spend another week, sailing slowly back along the
coast, touching at various ports, and returning eventually to the place
I had first hailed from.
In relating these trifling incidents it is not my wish to bore my
readers, but to work up gradually to that strange meeting to which they
were the prelude. Now that I can look back in cold blood upon the
circumstances that brought it about, and reflect how narrowly I escaped
missing the one event which was destined to change my whole life, I can
hardly realize that I attached such small importance to it at the time.
Somehow I have always been a firm believer in Fate, and indeed it would
be strange, all things considered, if I were not. For when a man has
passed through so many extraordinary adventures as I have, and not only
come out of them unharmed, but happier and a great deal more fortunate
than he has really any right to be, he may claim the privilege, I think,
of saying he knows something about his subject.
And, mind you, I date it all back to that visit to the old home, and to
my uncle's strange reception of me, for had I not gone down into the
country I should never have quarrelled with him, and if I had not
quarrelled with him I should not have gone back to the inn in such a
dudgeon, and in that case I should probably have left the place without
a visit to the bar, never have seen the advertisement, visited
Bournemouth, hired the yacht or--but there, I must stop. You must work
out the rest for yourself when you have heard my story.
The morning after my third return to Bournemouth I was up by daybreak,
and had my breakfast, and was ready to set off on a cruise across the
bay, before the sun was a hand's breadth above the horizon. It was as
perfect a morning as any man could wish to see. A faint breeze just
blurred the surface of the water, tiny waves danced in the sunshine, and
my barkie nodded to them as if she were anxious to be off. The town
ashore lay very quiet and peaceful, and so still was the air that the
cries of a few white gulls could be heard quite distinctly, though they
were half a mile or more away. Having hove anchor, we tacked slowly
across the bay, passed the pier-head, and steered for Old Harry Rock and
Swanage Bay. My crew was for'ard, and I had possession of the tiller.
As we went about between Canford Cliffs and Alum Chine, something moving
in the water ahead of me attracted my attention. We were too far off to
make out exactly what it might be, and it was not until five minutes
later, when we were close abreast of it, that I discovered it to be a
bather. The foolish fellow had ventured farther out than was prudent,
had struck a strong current, and was now being washed swiftly out to
sea. But for the splashing he made to show his whereabouts, I should in
all probability not have seen him, and in that case his fate would have
been sealed. As it was, when we came up with him he was quite exhausted.
Heaving my craft to, I leapt into the dinghy, and pulled towards him,
but before I could reach the spot he had sunk. At first I thought he was
gone for good and all, but in a few seconds he rose again. Then,
grabbing him by the hair, I passed an arm under each of his, and dragged
him unconscious into the boat. In less than three minutes we were
alongside the yacht again, and with my crew's assistance I got him
aboard. Fortunately a day or two before I had had the forethought to
purchase some brandy for use in case of need, and my Thursday Island
experiences having taught me exactly what was best to be done under such
circumstances, it was not long before I had brought him back to
consciousness.
In appearance he was a handsome young fellow, well set up, and possibly
nineteen or twenty years of age. When I had given him a stiff nobbler of
brandy to stop the chattering of his teeth, I asked him how he came to
be so far from shore.
"I am considered a very good swimmer," he replied, "and often come out
as far as this, but to-day I think I must have got into a strong outward
current, and certainly but for your providential assistance I should
never have reached home alive."
"You have had a very narrow escape," I answered, "but thank goodness
you're none the worse for it. Now, what's the best thing to be done?
Turn back, I suppose, and set you ashore."
"But what a lot of trouble I'm putting you to."
"Nonsense! I've nothing to do, and I count myself very fortunate in
having been able to render you this small assistance. The breeze is
freshening, and it won't take us any time to get back. Where do you
live?"
"To the left there! That house standing back upon the cliff. I don't
know how to express my gratitude."
"Just keep that till I ask you for it; and now, as we've got a twenty
minutes' sail before us, the best thing for you to do would be to slip
into a spare suit of my things. They'll keep you warm, and you can
return them to my hotel when you get ashore."
I sang out to the boy to come aft and take the tiller, while I escorted
my guest below into the little box of a cabin, and gave him a rig out.
Considering I am six feet two, and he was only five feet eight, the
things were a trifle large for him; but when he was dressed I couldn't
help thinking what a handsome, well-built, aristocratic-looking young
fellow he was. The work of fitting him out accomplished, we returned to
the deck. The breeze was freshening, and the little hooker was ploughing
her way through it, nose down, as if she knew that under the
circumstances her best was expected of her.
"Are you a stranger in Bournemouth?" my companion asked, as I took the
tiller again.
"Almost," I answered. "I've only been in England three weeks. I'm home
from Australia."
"Australia! Really! Oh, I should so much like to go out there."
His voice was very soft and low, more like a girl's than a boy's, and I
noticed that he had none of the mannerisms of a man--at least, not of
one who has seen much of the world.
"Yes, Australia's as good a place as any other for the man who goes out
there to work," I said. "But somehow you don't look to me like a chap
that is used to what is called roughing it. Pardon my bluntness."
"Well, you see, I've never had much chance. My father is considered by
many a very peculiar man. He has strange ideas about me, and so you see
I've never been allowed to mix with other people. But I'm stronger than
you'd think, and I shall be twenty in October next."
"If you don't mind telling me, what is your name?"
"I suppose there can be no harm in letting you know it. I was told if
ever I met any one and they asked me, not to tell them. But since you
saved my life it would be ungrateful not to let you know. I am the
Marquis of Beckenham."
"Is that so? Then your father is the Duke of Glenbarth?"
"Yes. Do you know him?"
"Never set eyes on him in my life, but I heard him spoken of the other
day."
I did not add that it was Mr. Matchem who, during my conversation with
him, had referred to his Grace, nor did I think it well to say that he
had designated him the "Mad Duke." And so the boy I had saved from
drowning was the young Marquis of Beckenham. Well, I was moving in good
society with a vengeance. This boy was the first nobleman I had ever
clapped eyes on, though I knew the Count de Panuroff well enough in
Thursday Island. But then foreign Counts, and shady ones at that, ought
not to reckon, perhaps.
"But you don't mean to tell me," I said at length, "that you've got no
friends? Don't you ever see any one at all?"
"No, I am not allowed to. My father thinks it better not. And as he does
not wish it, of course I have nothing left but to obey. I must own,
however, I should like to see the world--to go along voyage to
Australia, for instance."
"But how do you put in your time? You must have a very dull life of it."
"Oh, no! You see, I have never known anything else, and then I have
always the future to look forward to. As it is now, I bathe every
morning, I have my yacht, I ride about the park, I have my studies, and
I have a tutor who tells me wonderful stories of the world."
"Oh, your tutor has been about, has he?"
"Dear me, yes! He was a missionary in the South Sea Islands, and has
seen some very stirring adventures."
"A missionary in the South Seas, eh? Perhaps I know him."
"Were you ever in those seas?"
"Why, I've spent almost all my life there."
"Were you a missionary?"
"You bet not. The missionaries and my friends don't cotton to one
another."
"But they are such good men!"
"That may be. Still, as I say, we don't somehow cotton. I'd like to set
my eyes upon your tutor."
"Well, you will. I think I see him on the beach now. I expect he has
been wondering what has become of me. I've never been out so long
before."
"Well, you're close home now, and as safe as eggs in a basket."
Another minute brought us into as shallow water as I cared to go.
Accordingly, heaving to, I brought the dinghy alongside, and we got into
her. Then casting off, I pulled my lord ashore. A small, clean-shaven,
parsonish-looking man, with the regulation white choker, stood by the
water waiting for us. As I beached the boat he came forward and said:
"My lord, we have been very anxious about you. We feared you had met
with an accident."
"I have been very nearly drowned, Mr. Baxter. Had it not been for this
gentleman's prompt assistance I should never have reached home again."
"You should really be more careful, my lord. I have warned you before.
Your father has been nearly beside himself with anxiety about you!"
"Eh?" said I to myself. "Somehow this does not sound quite right.
Anyhow, Mr. Baxter, I've seen your figure-head somewhere before--but you
were not a missionary then, I'll take my affidavit."
Turning to me, my young lord held out his hand.
"You have never told me your name," he said almost reproachfully.
"Dick Hatteras," I answered, "and very much at your service."
"Mr. Hatteras, I shall never forget what you have done for me. That I am
most grateful to you I hope you will believe. I know that I owe you my
life."
Here the tutor's voice chipped in again, as I thought, rather
impatiently. "Come, come, my lord. This delay will not do. Your father
will be growing still more nervous about you. We must be getting home!"
Then they went off up the cliff path together, and I returned to my
boat.
"Mr. Baxter," I said to myself again as I pulled off to the yacht, "I
want to know where I've seen your face before. I've taken a sudden
dislike to you. I don't trust you; and if your employer's the man they
say he is, well, he won't either."
Then, having brought the dinghy alongside, I made the painter fast,
clambered aboard, and we stood out of the bay once more.