The Phantom presently came along close to the Osprey, and Carthew
shouted:
"Is there anything that I can do for you?"
"No, thank you," Frank replied.
Then Bertha called out:
"I am so sorry."
Frank waved his hand in reply. The men were all busy trying to get
the wreckage alongside. The cross-trees had been carried away by
the fall of the topmast, and her deck forward was littered with
gear. The difficulty was greatly increased by the heavy sea in the
race.
"As soon as you have got everything on board, Hawkins, we will put
a couple of reefs in the mainsail. She will go well enough under
that and the foresail. If the mizzen is too much for her, we can
take it off."
It was nearly half an hour before all was clear, and the last of
the yachts in the race had passed them before the leeward sheet of
the foresail was hauled aft, and the Phantom resumed her course. As
soon as she did so, the captain came aft with part of the copper
bar of the bobstay.
"There has been foul play, sir," he said. "I thought there must
have been, for I could not imagine that this bar would have broken
unless there had been a flaw in the metal or it had been tampered
with. I unshackled it myself, for I thought it was better that the
men should not see it until I had told you about it."
"Quite right, Hawkins. Yes, there is no doubt that there has been
foul play. The bar has been sawn three-quarters of the way through
with a fine saw, and, of course, it went as soon as she began to
dip her bowsprit well into it in the race. You see, whoever has
done it has poured some acid into it, and darkened the copper,
partly perhaps to prevent the colour of the freshly-cut metal from
being noticed, and partly to give it the appearance, after it was
broken, of being an old cut."
"It cannot have been that, sir, for we were out in quite as rough a
sea as this last week, and the bowsprit would have gone then if
this cut had been there. Besides, we should have been sure to have
noticed it when we went round her to polish up her sides."
"I don't know about that, Hawkins. You see, the cut is from below,
and it is only two or three inches above the waterline. It might
very well have been there without being noticed. Still, I agree
with you, it could not have been there last week, or it must have
gone when she put her nose into it then. In point of fact, I have
no doubt that it was done last night or the night before. It could
easily have been managed. Of course, everyone was below, both here
and in the yachts lying round us, and a man might very well have
come out in a small boat between one and two o'clock in the
morning, and done this without being noticed."
"He might have done that, sir, but we should have heard the grating
down in the forecastle."
"I don't know, Hawkins. A fine steel saw, such as burglars use,
will work its way through an iron bar almost noiselessly, and I
should say that it would go through copper almost as easily as it
would through hard wood. It is as well to say nothing to the crew
about it, but I think it my duty to lay the matter before the club
committee, and they can do as they like about it. Mind, I don't say
for a moment that it was done by anyone on board the Phantom. It
may have been someone on shore who had laid a bet of a few pounds
against us, and wanted to make sure of winning his money. Besides,
the Phantom might very well have hoped to have beaten us fairly,
for she was just as much fancied as we were. Take it below, and lay
it in my cabin, and when we get in unshackle the other bit of the
bar, and put it with this."
It was impossible, however, when the bowsprit and bobstay were
brought on board, that the crew should have failed to notice the
break in the bar, and the news that there had been foul play had at
once been passed round. Seeing the angry faces of the men, and the
animated talk forward, Frank told the captain to call all hands
aft.
"Look here, my men," he said. "I see that you are all aware of what
has taken place. It is most disgraceful and unfortunate, and I need
hardly say that I am as much vexed as yourselves at losing the Cup,
which, but for that, we must have carried off. However, it is one
of those cases in which there is nothing to be done, and we should
only make things worse by making a fuss about it. We have no ground
whatever for believing that it was the work of one of the Phantom's
crew, and it is far more likely that it was the work of some
longshore loafer who had laid more than he could afford against us.
It has partly been our own fault, but we shall know better in
future, and your captain will take good care that there shall be an
anchor watch set for two or three nights before we sail another
race.
"What I have called you up for is to beg of you not to make this an
occasion for disputes or quarrels ashore. Hitherto I have been
proud of the good behaviour of my crew, and I should be sorry
indeed to hear that there was any row ashore between you and the
Phantom's men. They at least have nothing to boast of. They have
won the Cup, but we have won the honour. We have shown ourselves
the better yacht, and should have beaten them by something like a
mile, if it had not been for this accident. Therefore it is my
express wish and order that you do not show your natural
disappointment on shore. You can give the real reason of our
defeat, but do not say a word of blame to anyone, for we know not
who was the author of the blackguardly act.
"Of course, the matter cannot be kept altogether a secret, for it
will be my duty to lay it before the committee. I shall make no
protest. If they choose to institute an inquiry they must do so,
but I shall take no steps in the matter, and it is unlikely in the
extreme that we shall ever know who did it. I shall pay you all
winning money, for that you did not win was no fault of yours. One
thing I will wager, though I am not a betting man, and that is,
that the next time we meet the Phantom we shall beat her, by as
much as we should have done today, but for this accident."
The appearance of the Osprey as she sailed into the anchorage,
without topmast or bowsprit, excited great attention; and many of
the yachtsmen came on board to inquire how the disaster had
happened. To save going through the story a score of times, Frank
had the broken pieces of the bobstay bar brought up and laid on the
deck near the tiller, and in reply to inquiries simply pointed to
them, saying:
"I think that tells the tale for itself."
All were full of indignation at the dastardly outrage.
"What are you going to do, Major?"
"I am not going to do anything, except take it ashore and hand it
to the Sailing Committee. That it has been cut is certain. As to
who cut it, there is no shadow of evidence."
"If I were in Carthew's place," one of them said, "I should decline
to take the Cup under such circumstances, and would offer to sail
the race over again with you as soon as you had repaired damages."
"I should decline the offer if he made it," he said, quietly. "It
is probable that we shall meet in a race again some day, and then
we can fight it out, but for the present it is done with. He has
won the Queen's Cup, and I must put up with my accidents."
The effect produced by the facts reported to the committee, and
their examination of the broken bar, was very great. Such a thing
had not been known before in the annals of yachting, and the
committee ordered a poster to be instantly printed and stuck up
offering a reward of 100 pounds for proof that would lead to the
conviction of the author of the outrage.
Frank returned on board at once, and sent off a boat, towing behind
it the broken bowsprit and topmast to Cowes, with instructions to
Messieurs White to have two fresh spars got ready, by the following
afternoon if possible.
He did not go ashore again until he landed, at half-past ten, at
the clubhouse. Every window was lit up, and dancing had begun an
hour before. Frank at once obtained a partner, in order to avoid
having to talk the unpleasant business over with yachting friends.
Presently he sat down by the side of Lady Greendale.
"I am so sorry, Frank," she said. "It does seem hard when you had
set your mind on it."
"I had hoped to win," he said, "but it is not as bad as all that
after all. It would have been more mortifying to lose because the
Osprey was not fast enough, than to lose from an accident, when she
had already proved herself to be the best in the race. You know
that I never went in for being a racing yachtsman. I look upon
racing as being a secondary part of yachting. I can assure you, I
don't feel that I am greatly to be pitied. It might have been
better, and it might have been a great deal worse."
"Well, I am glad that you take it in that way," she said. "I can
assure you that I was greatly upset over it when I heard it."
He sat chatting with her for some time. Presently Bertha was
brought back by her partner to her mother's side.
"Thank you for your hail as you passed us, Miss Greendale. It
sounded hearty, and really cheered me up, for just at the moment I
was in an exceedingly bad temper, I can assure you. You see, my
forebodings came true, and luck was against me."
"Not luck," she said, indignantly. "You would have won but for
treachery."
"Treachery is rather a hard word," he said. "However, it is of no
use crying over spilt milk. I have lost, and shall live to fight
another day, I hope; and next time I shall win. Still, you know,
there is really nothing to grumble at. I have been fortunate
altogether this season, and as I bought the Osprey as a cruiser, I
have done a great deal better with her than I could have expected."
At this moment another partner of Bertha's came up, and was about
to carry her off, when she said:
"I suppose the Osprey can sail still, Major Mallett?"
"Oh, yes. She is a lame duck, you know, but she can get about all
right."
"Well, why don't you ask mamma and me to take a sail with you
tomorrow afternoon?"
"I shall be very happy to do so," he said, "but I almost think that
you had better wait until she gets her spars. I don't think that
they will be finished before tomorrow evening. The men can get to
work early in the morning, and we can be here by two o'clock next
day."
"No, I think that we will come tomorrow, Major Mallett.
"It will be a novelty to sail in a cripple, won't it, mamma?
"Besides, you know, or you ought to know, that the day after
tomorrow is Sunday, and that at present our plans are arranged for
going up to town on Monday."
"That being so," Frank said with a smile, "by all means come
tomorrow. Will you come to lunch, or afterwards?"
"Afterwards, I think. We will be down at the club landing stage at
half-past two."
"Bertha is bent upon taking possession of you tomorrow," Lady
Greendale said, smiling, as the girl turned away; "and I shall be
glad for her to have a quiet two or three hours out of the racket.
A large party is very fatiguing, and I think that it has been too
much for her. Yesterday and today she has been quite unlike
herself; at one time sitting quiet and saying nothing, at other
times rattling away with Miss Haverley and Lady Olive, and
absolutely talking down both of them, which I should have thought
impossible. She seems to me to be altogether over-excited. I
thought it would have been a rest for her to get away for a week
from the fag in London, but I am sorry now that we came down
altogether. I am a little worried about it, Frank."
"Well, the season is drawing towards its end now, Lady Greendale,
and if you can get a short time at home no doubt it will do you
good. I did not think that Bertha was looking well when I saw her
yesterday."
Frank danced a couple more dances, and then went to Lady Greendale
and said:
"Will you make my excuses to Bertha? and tell her that, having
shown myself here, so that it might not be thought that I was out
of temper at my bad luck, I shall be off. Indeed, I do not feel
quite up to entering into the thing. You can understand, dear Lady
Greendale, that at present things are going rather hardly with me."
She gave him a sympathetic look. "I can understand, Frank," she
said; "but here she comes. You can make your excuses yourself."
"I can quite understand that you don't care about staying," Bertha
said, when he repeated what he had said to her mother. "Well, I
will give you the next dance, or, what will be nicer, I will sit it
out with you. Ah, here is my partner.
"I am afraid I have made a mistake, Mr. Jennings, and have got my
card mixed up. Do you mind taking the thirteenth dance instead of
this? I shall be very much obliged if you will."
Her partner murmured his assent.
"Thank you," Frank said, as she took his arm. "Now, shall we go out
on the balcony, or on the lawn?"
"The lawn, I think. It is a lovely evening, and there is no fear of
catching cold.
"I am afraid that you are very disappointed," she went on, as they
went out. "I am disappointed, too. I told you I wanted the best
yacht to win, and it has not done so."
"Thank you," he replied, quietly. "I should have liked to have won,
just this once, but all along I felt that the chances were against
me, and that fortune would play me some trick or other."
"It was not fortune. Fortune had nothing to do with it," she said,
indignantly. "You were beaten by a crime--by a mean, miserable
crime--by the same sort of crime by which you were beaten before."
"I have no reason for supposing that there is any connection."
"Frank," she broke in, suddenly, and he started as for the first
time for years she called him by his Christian name, "you are an
old friend of ours, and you promised me that you would always be my
friend. Do you think that it is right to be trying to throw dust
into my eyes? Don't you think, on the contrary, that as a friend
you should speak frankly to me?"
Frank was silent for a moment.
"On some subjects, yes, Bertha; on others, what has passed between
us makes it very difficult for a man to know what he ought to do.
But be assured that if I saw you make any fatal mistake, any
mistake at least that I believed to be fatal, I should not
hesitate, even if I knew that I should be misunderstood, and that I
should forfeit your liking, by so doing. This is just one of the
cases when I do not feel justified, as yet, in speaking. Carthew is
not my friend, and you know it. If I had had no personal feud--for
it has become that with him--I should be more at liberty to speak,
but as it is I would rather remain silent. I tell you this now,
that you may know, in case I ever do meddle in your affairs, how
painful it is for me to do so, and how unwillingly I do it. At any
rate, there is nothing whatever to connect the accident that took
place today with him. The event is one of a series of successes
that he has gained over me. It does not affect me much, for though
I should have liked to have won today, I don't feel about such
matters as I used to.
"You see, when a man has suffered one heavy defeat, he does not
care about how minor skirmishes may go."
They walked up and down in silence for some time, then she said
quietly:
"The music has stopped. I think, Frank, that I had better go in
again. So you will take us tomorrow?"
"Certainly," he said.
He took her in to Lady Greendale, and then went off to the Osprey.
He was feeling in higher spirits than he had done for some time, as
he walked up and down the deck for an hour before turning in. It
seemed to him that she might not after all accept Carthew, and that
he would not be obliged to bring trouble upon her by telling the
shameful story.
"It will be all the same, as far as I am concerned," he said to
himself, "but I am sure that I could stand her marrying anyone
else; which, of course, she will do before long, better than
Carthew. I hear whispers that he was hard hit at Ascot, though he
gives out that he won. Not that that matters much, but it is never
a good lookout for a girl to marry a man who gambles, even though
she be rich, and her friends take good care to settle her money
upon herself. She evidently suspects that he is at the bottom of
this trick, and she would hardly think so if she really cared for
him. But if she does think so, I fancy that the winning of the
Queen's Cup will cost him dearly.
"I wonder why she has apparently so set her mind on going out with
us tomorrow."
Carthew enjoyed his triumph that evening, loudly expressed his
indignation and regret at the scandalous affair to which he owed
his victory, frankly said that he could hardly have hoped to win
the Cup had it not been for that, and expressed his determination
to add another hundred pounds to the reward offered by the club for
the discovery of the author of the outrage. The men felt that it
was hard on a fellow to win the Cup by the breakdown of an opponent
in that way, and the ladies admired the sincere way in which he
expressed his regrets. He was a good dancer, a good talker, and a
handsome man; and as few of them knew Frank, they had no particular
interest in his misfortune.
He danced only once with Bertha, who said:
"As the hero of the occasion, Mr. Carthew, you must be generous in
your attentions and please everyone."
"I suppose I must obey you, Miss Greendale," he said, "but I had
hoped to have had an opportunity of saying something particular to
you tonight."
"Really?" she answered innocently. "Well, I shall be at home
tomorrow morning, and if you come up about eleven you are sure to
find me."
"Miss Greendale is at the other end of the garden, sir," the
servant said, as he enquired for her the next morning. "She asked
me to tell you if you called that she was there."
With considerable assurance of success, Carthew walked into the
garden. She must know what he wanted to say to her, and he had of
late felt sure that her answer would be favourable when the
question was put. She was sitting on the same bench on which two
days before she had heard George Lechmere's story.
"You know what I have come for, Miss Greendale," he began at once.
"I think that you know how I feel towards you, and how deeply I
love you. I have come to ask you to be my wife."
"Before I answer you, Mr. Carthew," she said, calmly, "I must ask
you to listen to a story. It was told me here two days ago by a man
named George Lechmere. Do you know him?"
"I seem to have heard his name, though I cannot say where," he
replied, surprised at the coolness with which she spoke.
"He is a farmer's son, I believe, and he was an interested party,
though not the chief actor of the story. The chief actor, I suppose
I should say actress, was Martha Bennett. You know her?"
Carthew stepped back as if he had received a sudden blow. His face
paled, and he gave a short gasp.
"I see you know her," she went on. "She was a poor creature, I
fancy, and her story is one that has often been told before. She
threw away the love of an honest man, and trusted herself to a
villain. He betrayed the trust, took her away to America and then
cast her off, and she went home to die. Her destroyer did not
altogether escape punishment. He was attacked and pelted by her
father and his friends in the market place at Chippenham. You see,
it all happened in my neighbourhood, and the villain, not daring to
show his face in the county again, disposed of his estate."
"You don't believe this infamous lie?" Carthew said hoarsely.
"How do you know that it is an infamous lie, Mr. Carthew? I have
mentioned no names. I have simply told you the story of a hapless
girl, whom you once knew. Your face is the best witness that I can
require of its truth. Thank God I heard it in time. Had it not been
for that I might have been fool enough to have given you the answer
you wanted, for I own that I liked you. I am sure now that I did
not love you, for had I done so, I should not have believed this
tale; or if I had believed it, it would have crushed me. But I
liked you. I found you pleasanter than other men, and I even
fancied that I loved you. Had I not known this story, I might have
married you, and been the most miserable woman alive, for a man who
could play the villain to a hapless girl, who could stoop to so
mean and dastardly an action as to cripple a rival yacht, is a
creature so mean, so detestable, that wretched indeed would be the
fate of the woman that married him.
"Do not contradict it, sir," she said, rising from her seat now
with her face ablaze with indignation. "I was watching you. I had
heard that story, and had heard another story of how the boat of an
antagonist of yours at Henley had been crippled before a race, and
I watched you from the time I came on board. I saw that you were
strangely confident; I saw how you were watching for something; I
saw the flash of triumph in your face when that something happened;
and I was absolutely certain that the same base manoeuvre that had
won you your heat at Henley had been repeated in your race for the
Queen's Cup.
"I don't think, sir, you will want any more specific answer to your
question."
"You will repent this," he panted, his face distorted by a raging
disappointment. "I do not contradict your statements. It would be
beneath me to do so; but some day you may have cause to regret
having made them."
"I may tell you," she said, as she turned, "that it is not my
intention to make public the knowledge that I gained of your
conduct yesterday. I have no proof save my own absolute conviction,
and the knowledge that I have of your past."
He did not look round, but walked at a rapid pace down the garden.
Half an hour later the Phantom's anchor was got up, and she sailed
for Southampton Water. Beyond giving the necessary order to get
under way, Carthew did not speak a word until she anchored off the
pier, then he went ashore at once and took the next train for town,
sending off a telegram before starting.
When he got home he asked the servant briefly if Mr. Conking had
come.
"Yes, sir. He is waiting for you in the dining room."
"Well, Carthew, how have things gone off? I see by the papers this
morning that you won the Cup, and also that the Osprey's bobstay
burst at the right time, and that a great sensation had been caused
by the discovery that there had been foul play.
"Why, what is the matter with you? You look as black as a
thundercloud."
"And no wonder. I won the race, but I have lost the girl."
"The deuce you have. Why, I thought that you felt quite certain of
that."
"So I did; and it would have come off all right if some infernal
fellow had not turned up, and told her about an old affair of mine
that I thought buried and forgotten three or four years ago; and it
took me so aback that, as she said, my face was the best evidence
of the truth of the story. More than that, she declared that she
knew that I was at the bottom of the Osprey's business. However,
she has no evidence about that; but the other story did the
business for me, and the game is all up in that quarter. There
never was such bad luck. She as much as told me that, if I had
proposed to her before she had heard the story, she would have said
yes."
"No chance of her changing her mind?"
"Not a scrap."
"It is an awkward affair for you."
"Horribly awkward. Yes, I have only got fifteen thousand left, and
unless things go right at Goodwood I shall be cleaned right out. I
calculated that everything would be set right if I married this
girl. Things have gone badly of late."
"Yes, your luck has been something awful. It did seem that with the
pains that we took, and the way I cleared the ground for you by
bribing jockeys and so on, we ought to have made pots of money. Of
course, we did pull off some good things, but others we looked on
as safe, and went in for heavily, all turned out wrong."
"Well, there will be nothing for me but to get across the Channel
unless, as I say, things go right at Goodwood."
"I should not be nervous about it, for unless there is some dark
horse I feel sure that your Rosney has got the race in hand."
"Yes, I feel sure of that, too. We have kept him well back all the
season, and never let him even get a place. It ought to be a
certainty."
Then they sat some time smoking in silence.
"By gad, I have half a mind to carry her off," Carthew broke out,
suddenly. "It is the only way that I can see of getting things
straightened out. She acknowledged that she liked me before she
heard this accursed story, and if I had her to myself I have no
doubt that I could make her like me again in spite of it."
"It is a risky thing to carry a woman off in our days," Conkling
said, thoughtfully, "and a deuced difficult one to do. I don't see
how you are going to set about it, or what in the world you would
do with her, and where you would put her when you had got her. I
have done some pretty risky things for you in my time, Carthew, but
I should not care about trying that. We might both find ourselves
in for seven years."
"Well, you would have as much as that for getting at a horse, and I
don't know that you wouldn't for bribing a jockey. Still, I see
that it is an uncommonly difficult thing."
For five minutes nothing more was said; then Conkling suddenly
broke the silence.
"By Jove, I should say that the yacht would be just the thing."
"That is a good idea, Jim; a first-rate idea if it could be worked
out. It would want a lot of scheming, but I don't see why it should
not be done. If I could once get her on board, I could cruise about
with her for any time, until she gave in."
"You would have to get a fresh crew, Carthew. I doubt whether your
fellows would stand it."
"No, I suppose some of them might kick. At any rate, I would not
trust them. No, I should have to find a fresh crew. Foreigners
would be best, but it would look uncommonly rum for the Phantom to
be cruising about with a foreign crew. Besides, I know men in
almost every port I should put into."
"Couldn't you alter her rig, or something of that sort, so that she
could not be recognised? It seems to me that if you were to take
her across to some foreign port, pay off the crew there and send
them home, then get her altered and ship a foreign crew, you might
cruise about as long as you liked, especially abroad, without a
soul being any the wiser; and the girl must sooner or later give
in, and if she would not you could make her."
"That is a big idea, Jim. Yes, if I once got my lady on board you
may be sure that she would have to say yes sooner or later. I don't
often forgive, and it would be a triumph to make her pay for the
dressing down she gave me this morning. Besides, I am really fond
of her, and I could forgive her for that outbreak, which I suppose
was natural enough, after we were married, and there is no reason
why we should not get on very well together.
"I tell you what, I will go down the first thing tomorrow to
Southampton, and will sail at once for Ostend. There I will pay her
off, alter her rig, and ship a fresh crew. I will draw my money
from the bank. If things go well, I shall be set up again. If they
go badly, there will be some long faces at Tattersall's on settling
day, but I shall be away, and the money will be enough if we have
to cruise for a couple of years, or double that, before she gives
in.
"I shall try mild measures for a good bit; be very respectful and
repentant and all that. If I find after a time that that does not
fetch her, I must try what threats will do. Anyhow, she won't leave
until she steps on shore to be married, or safer still, till I can
get a clergyman on board to marry us there. Would you like to go
with us?"
"If the thing bursts up, there is nothing I should like better."
"You will have to help me carry her off, Jim, and the day that she
signs her name Bertha Carthew I will give you a couple of thousand
pounds."
"That is a bargain," the man said. "It is a good scheme altogether,
if we can hit upon some plan for carrying her away."
"It is of no use to think of that, until we know where she will be.
I don't see at present how it is to be done, but I know that there
is always a way if one can think of it. You telegraph to me every
day Poste Restante, Ostend, or wherever I am stopping. I will send
you the name of the hotel I put up at directly I get there. You had
better send someone down at once to Ryde to let you know what she
is doing, and when she comes up to town; it is just on the cards
that they may not come for a bit, but may go for a cruise in
Mallett's yacht, as they did last autumn. Anyhow, let me know, and
if I telegraph for you to come over, cross by the next boat.
"Likely enough I may run over myself as soon as I get the business
there going all right; but of course I shall stay there if I can. I
should get it done in half the time if I were present to push
things on. Of course, you will run down and see how the horse is
getting on, and pick up any information that you can, and let me
know about it."
"I will put that into good hands, Carthew. It is better that I
should stay here and watch things at Tattersall's; then I can keep
you informed how things are looking every day, and be ready to
start as soon as I get your telegram. But, of course, you won't do
anything until after the race is run."
"No, I feel as safe as a man can as to Rosney, but even if he wins
I shall carry my idea out. I have had enough of the turf, and burnt
my fingers enough over it, and I shall be glad to settle down as a
country gentleman again. If I lose I shall make a private sale of
all my horses before I leave the course. That ought to bring me in
another seven or eight thousand pounds for our trip."