NINA

When Captain Henry Charlton--generally known as “Bully

Charlton”--stepped on shore at Townsville in North Queensland with his

newly-wedded wife, his acquaintances stared at them both in profound

astonishment. They had heard that he had married in Sydney, and from

their past knowledge of his character expected to see a loudly-attired

Melbourne or Sydney barmaid with peroxided hair, and person profusely

adorned with obtrusive jewelry. Instead of this they beheld a tall,

ladylike girl with a cold, refined face, and an equally cold and distant

manner.

“Well, I _have_ seen some curious things in my time,” said Fryer, the

American master of a Torres Straits pearling schooner, to the other men,

as they watched Charlton and his wife drive away from the hotel, “but

to think that _that_ fellow should marry a lady! I wonder if she has the

faintest idea of what an anointed scoundrel he is?”

“He's been mighty smart over it, anyway,” said a storekeeper named Lee.

“Why, it isn't six months since Nina drowned herself. I suppose it's

true, Fryer, that she did bolt with Jack Lester?”

The American struck his hand upon the table in hot anger. “That's a

lie! I know Lester well, and Nina Charlton was as good a woman as ever

breathed.”

“Well, you see, Fryer, we don't know as much as you do about the matter.

But when Nina cleared out from her husband and Lester disappeared a day

or two later and went no one knows where, it did look pretty queer.”

“And I tell you that Lester never saw Mrs. Charlton after the day he

took it out of Charlton. He's a gentleman. And if you want to know where

he is now I'll tell you. He's pearling at Thursday Island in Torres

Straits. And Nina Charlton, thank God, is at rest. After the fight

between Lester and her husband she ran away, and reached Port Denison

almost dead from exposure in the bush. Shannon, of the _Lynndale_, who

had known her in her childhood, gave her a passage to Sydney. Two days

before the steamer reached there she disappeared--jumped overboard in

the night, I suppose.”

“Well, I'm sorry I repeated what is common gossip; but Charlton himself

put the story about. And the papers said a lot about the elopement of

the wife of a well-known plantation manager.'”

Fryer laughed contemptuously. “Just the thing Charlton would do. He's an

infernal scoundrel. He told Lester that he'd make it warm for him--the

beast. But I'm sorry for that sad-faced girl we saw just now. Fancy

the existence she will lead with an unprincipled and drunken brute like

Charlton! Good-bye; I'm off aboard. And look here, if ever any of you

hear any more talk about Lester and Nina Charlton and repeats it in my

hearing I'll do my best to make him sorry.”

*****

Lester was the manager of a mine and quartz-crushing battery near

Charlton's plantation on the Lower Burdekin River when he “took it out”

of its owner. He was a quiet, self-possessed man of about thirty,

and occasionally visited Charlton and his wife and played a game of

billiards--if Charlton was sober enough to stand. Sometimes in his rides

along the lonely bush tracks he would meet Mrs. Charlton and go as

far as the plantation gates with her. She was a small, slenderly built

woman, or rather girl, with dark, passionate eyes, in whose liquid

depths Lester could read the sorrows of her life with such a man as

Henry Charlton. Once as he rode beside her through the grey monotone of

the lofty, smooth-barked gum-trees she told him that her father was an

Englishman and her mother a Portuguese.

“I married Captain Charlton in Macao. He was in the navy, you know; and

although it is only four years since I left my father's house I feel

so old; and sometimes when I awake in the night I think I can hear the

sound of the beating surf and the rustle of the nipa-palms in the trade

wind. And, oh! I so long to see----” Her eyes filled with tears, and she

turned her face away.

Perhaps Lester's unconsciously pitying manner to her whenever they met,

and the utter loneliness of her existence on the Belle Grace Plantation

made Nina Charlton think too much of the young mine manager, and,

without knowing it, to eagerly look forward to their chance meetings.

One day as Lester was walking through Charlton's estate, gun in

hand, looking for wild turkeys, he met her. She was seated under the

widespreading branches of a Leichhardt-tree, and was watching some of

her husband's labourers felling a giant gum.

“I came out to see it fall,” she said. “It is the largest tree on

Belle Grace. And it is so dull in the house.” She turned her face away

quickly.

Lester muttered a curse under his breath. He knew what she meant.

Charlton had returned from Townsville the day before in a state of

frenzy, and after threatening to murder his servants had flung himself

upon a couch to sleep the sleep of drunkenness.

As the men hewed at the bole of the mighty tree Lester and Nina Charlton

talked. She had spent the first year of her married life in Sydney,

which was Lester's native town, and in a few minutes she had quite

forgotten the tree, and was listening eagerly to Lester's account of

his wanderings through the world, for his had been an adventurous

career--sailor, South Sea trader, pearl-sheller, and gold miner in New

Guinea and the Malayan Archipelago.

“And now here I am, Mrs. Charlton, over thirty years of age, and not any

the richer for all my roving. Of course,” he added, with boyish candour,

“I know when I'm well off, and I have a good billet here and mean to

save money. And I intend to be back in Sydney in another fortnight.”

“But you will return to Queensland, will you not?” she said quickly.

Lester laughed. “Oh yes, I suppose I shall settle down here finally.

But I'm going to Sydney to be married. Would you care to see my future

wife's photograph? You see, Mrs. Charlton, you're the only lady I've

ever talked to about her, and I should like you to see what she is

like.”

She made no answer, and Lester in wondering ignorance saw that her face

had paled to a deathly white and that her hands were trembling.

“You are ill, Mrs. Charlton. You must be getting a touch of fever. Let

me take you home.”

“No,” she answered quickly; “let me stay here. I shall be better in a

minute.” And then she began to sob passionately.

Charlton, awakening from his drunken sleep, looked at them from the

window of the sitting-room. He hated his wife because she feared him,

and of late had almost shuddered when he touched her. Picking up

his whip from the table, he walked out of the house to where she was

sitting.

“So this is your little amusement, is it?” he said savagely to Nina;

“and this fellow is the cause of all my trouble. I might have known what

to expect from a woman like you. Your Portuguese nature is too much for

you. Go back to the house, and leave me to settle with your lover.”

The next instant Lester launched out and struck him on the mouth. He lay

where he fell, breathing heavily, and when he rose to his feet he saw

Lester carrying his wife, who had fainted, to the house.

Placing Mrs. Charlton in the care of a servant, Lester returned quickly

to where Charlton, who was no coward, awaited him.

“You drunken scoundrel!” he burst out; “I've come back to settle up with

you!”

And Lester did “settle up” to his heart's content, for he half-killed

Charlton with his own whip.

A week later, however, Charlton had his first bit of revenge. Lester was

dismissed, the directors of the mine being determined, as they said, to

show their disapproval of his attack upon “a justice of the peace and

one of their largest shareholders.”

Lester sat down and wrote to the “girl of his heart,” and told her that

he could not see her for another year or so. “I have had to leave the

mine, Nell, dear,” he said. “I won't tell you why--it would anger you

perhaps. But it was not all my fault. However, I have decided what to

do. I am going back to my old vocation of pearler in Torres Straits. I

can make more money there than I could here.”

The following morning, as he was leaving Belle Grace, he heard that Mrs.

Charlton had left her husband two days previously, and had made her way

through the bush to Port Denison, from where she had gone to Sydney.

Soon after Lester had sailed for Torres Straits in Fryer's schooner, the

owner of Belle Grâce Plantation received a telegram from Sydney telling

him that his wife was dead--she had jumped overboard on the passage

down. And, later on, Lester heard it also.

*****

Lester was doing well, but wondering why Nellie March did not write. He

little knew that Charlton was in Sydney working out his revenge. This he

soon accomplished.

From the local postmistress at Belle Grace Charlton had learned the

address of the girl Lester was to marry; and the first thing he did when

he arrived in Sydney was to call upon her parents, and tell them

that Lester had run away with his wife. And they--and Nellie March as

well--believed his story when he produced some Queensland newspapers

which contained the accounts of the “elopement.” He was a good-looking

man, despite his forty years of hard drinking, and could lie with

consummate grace, and Nellie, after her first feelings of shame and

anger had subsided, pitied him, especially when he said that his poor

wife was at rest now, and he had forgiven her. Before a month was out

she married him.

Then Charlton, who simply revelled in his revenge, sent the papers

containing the announcement of his marriage to Lester.

Lester took it very badly at first. But his was a strong nature, and

he was too proud a man to write to the woman he loved and ask for an

explanation. It was Charlton's money, of course, he thought. And as the

months went by he began to forget. He heard of Charlton sometimes from

the captains of passing vessels. He was drinking heavily they said, and

whenever he came to town boasted of having “got even” with the man who

had thrashed him. Lester set his teeth but said nothing, and in time

even such gossip as this failed to disturb him. But he swore to give

Charlton another thrashing when the opportunity came.

*****

A year had come and gone, and Lester found himself in Sydney. He liked

the free, open life among the pearlers, and intended to go back after

a month or so of idleness in the southern city. One evening he strolled

into the bar of Pfahlerts Hotel and ordered a whisky-and-soda. The

girl he spoke to looked into his face for a moment and then nearly

fainted--it was Nina Charlton!

“Give me your address,” she said quickly, as she put out her hand. “I

will come and see you in an hour from now.”

She came, and in a few minutes told him her history since he had seen

her last. The captain of the _Lynniale_ pitying her terror at the

prospect of her husband following her, had concealed her when the

steamer was near Sydney, and it was he who telegraphed to Charlton that

his wife had disappeared on the passage and was supposed to have jumped

or fallen overboard. And she told Lester that she knew of her husband's

second marriage and knew who it was whom he had married.

What was she going to do? Lester asked.

Nothing, she said. She would rather die than let Charlton know she was

alive. When she had saved money enough she would go back to her own

people.

Lester walked home with her. At the door of the hotel she bade him

good-night.

“We shall meet sometimes, shall we not?” she asked wistfully. “I have

not a friend in all Sydney.”

“Neither have I,” he said, “and I shall only be too happy to come and

see you.” She was silent a moment, then as she placed her hand in his

she asked softly--

“Have you forgotten _her_ altogether?”

“Yes,” he answered, “I have. I did cut up a bit at first. But I'm over

it now.”

Her fingers pressed his again, and then with an almost whispered

“Good-night” she was gone.

Before a month was over Lester was honestly in love with her. And she

knew it, though he was too honourable a man to tell her so. Then one day

he came to her hurriedly.

“I'm going back to Torres Straits to-morrow,” he said. “I may be away

for two years.... You will not forget me.”

“No,” she answered, with a sob, “I shall never forget you; you are all

the world to me. And go now, dear, quickly; for I love you--and I am

only a woman.”

*****

But there is a kindly Providence in these things, for when Lester

reached Thursday Island in Torres Straits he heard that Charlton was

dead. He had been thrown from his horse and died shortly after. His

widow, Lester also heard, had returned to Sydney.

So Lester made quick work. Within twenty-four hours he had sold his

business and was on his way back to Sydney.

He dashed up in a cab to his old lodgings. In another hour he would see

Nina. He had sent her a telegram from Brisbane, telling her when the

steamer would arrive, and was in a fever of excitement. And he was late.

As he tumbled his things about, his landlady came to the door with a

letter.

“There was a lady called here, sir, a week ago, and asked for your

address. I had just got your telegram saying you were coming back

to-day, and she said she would write, and this letter came just now.”

Lester knew the handwriting. It was from Nellie. He opened it.

“I know now how I have wronged you. My husband, before he

died, told me that he had deceived me. My life has been a

very unhappy one, and I want to see you and ask for your

forgiveness. Will you send me an answer to-night?--Nellie!”

Lester held the letter in his hand and pondered. What should he do?

Answer it or not? Poor Nellie!

He sat down to think--and then Nina Charlton opened the door and flung

her arms around his neck.

“I could not wait,” she whispered, “and I am not afraid _now_ to say I

love you.”

That night Lester wrote a letter to the woman he had once loved. “I am

glad to know that Charlton told you the truth before he died,” he said.

“But let the past be forgotten.”

*****

He never told Nina of this. But one day as they were walking along the

“Block” in George Street, she saw her husband raise his hat to a tall,

fair-haired woman with big blue eyes.

“Is that she, Jack?” murmured Nina.

Lester nodded.

“She's very lovely. And yet I felt once that I could have killed

her--when you and I sat together watching the big tree fall. But I

couldn't hate _any one_ now.”