Chester was listening to those charming musicians, the convict band,
playing in Nouméa, and saw in the crowd a man he knew--more, an old
friend, S------. The recognition was mutual and pleasing to both. They
had not met for six years. He was then chief officer of a China steamer;
now he was captain of a big tramp steamer that had called in to load
nickel ore. “Who,” exclaimed Chester, “would ever have thought of
meeting _you_ here?”
He laughed and replied: “I came with a purpose. You remember Miss ------,
to whom I was engaged in Sydney?”
Chester nodded, expecting from the sparkle in S------'s dark brown eye
that he was going to hear a little gush about her many wifely qualities.
“Well, I was in Sydney three times after I saw you. We were to be
married as soon as I got a command. Two years ago I was there last. She
had got married. Wrote me a letter saying she knew my calmer judgment
would finally triumph over my anger--she had accepted a good offer, and
although I might be nettled, perhaps, at first, yet she was sure my good
sense would applaud her decision in marrying a man who, although she
could never love him as she loved me, was very rich. But she would
always look forward to meeting me again. That was all.”
“Hard lines,” said Chester.
“My dear boy, I thought that at first, when her letter knocked me flat
aback. But I got over it, and I swore I would pay her out. And I came to
this den of convicts to do it, and I did it--yesterday. She is here.”
“_Here?_” said Chester.
And then he learnt the rest of Captain S------'s story. A year after his
lady-love had jilted him he received a letter from her in England. She
was in sad trouble, she said. Her husband, a Victorian official, was
serving five years for embezzlement. Her letter was suggestive of a
desire to hasten to the “protection” of her sailor lover. She wished,
she said, that her husband were dead. But dead or alive she would always
hate _him_.
S------ merely acknowledged her letter and sent her £25. In another six
months he got a letter from Fiji. She was a governess there, she said,
at £75 a year. Much contrition and love, also, in this letter.
S------ sent another £25, and remarked that he would see her soon. Fate
one day sent him to take command of a steamer in Calcutta bound to Fiji
with coolies, thence to Nouméa to load nickel ore. And all the way out
across the tropics S------'s heart was leaping at the thought of seeing
his lost love--and telling her that he hated her for her black frozen
treachery.
As soon as he had landed his coolies he cautiously set about discovering
the family with whom she lived. No one could help him, but a planter
explained matters: “I know the lady for whom you inquire, but she
doesn't go by that name. Ask any one about Miss ------, the barmaid. She
has gone to New Caledonia.”
He asked, and learned that she was well known; and S------ wondered why
she had brought her beauty to such a climate as that of Fiji when it
would have paid her so much better to parade it in Melbourne.
The evening of the day on which his steamer arrived at Nouméa a man
brought him a letter. He showed it to Chester.
My darling Will,--Thank God you have come, for surely you have come for
me--my heart tells me so. For God's sake wait on board for me. I will
come at eight. To live in this place is breaking my heart. Ever yours,
------
She came. He stood her kisses passively, but gave none in return, until
she asked him to kiss her. “When you are my wife,” he said, evasively.
And then--she must have loved him--she burst out into passionate sobs
and fell at his feet in the quiet cabin and told him of her debased life
in Fiji. “But, as God hears me, Will, that is all past since your last
letter. I was mad. I loved money and did not care how I got it. I left
Fiji to come here, intending to return to Australia. But, Will, dear
Will, if it is only to throw me overboard, take me away from this hell
upon earth. For your sake, Will, I have resisted them here, although
I suffer daily, hourly, torture and insult. I have no money, and I am
afraid to die and end my sufferings.”
Captain S------, speaking calmly and slowly, placed money in her hand
and said, “You must not see me again till the day I am ready for sea.
Then bring your luggage and come on board.”
With a smothered sob bursting from her, despite the joy in her heart,
the woman turned and left him.
Then S------ went up to the Café Palais and played billiards with a
steady hand.
*****
There was a great number of people on board to see Captain S------ away.
Presently a boat came alongside, and a young lady with sweet red lips
and shiny hair ascended to the deck.
“Hèlas!” said a French officer to S------, “and so you are taking away
the fair one who won't look at us poor exiles of Nouvelle.”
With a timid smile and fast-beating heart the woman gained the
quarter-deck. In front of her stood the broad-shouldered, well-groomed
Captain S------, cold, impassive, and deadly pale, with a cruel joy in
his breast.
The woman stood still. There was something so appalling in that set
white face before her, that her slight frame quivered with an unknown
dread. And then the captain spoke, in slow, measured words that cut her
to her inmost soul.
“Madam, I do not take passengers!”
No answer. Only short, gasping breaths as she steadied her hand on the
rail.
And then, turning to one of the Frenchmen: “M. ------, will you request
this--this lady to go on shore? She is known to me as a woman of
infamous reputation in Fiji. I cannot for a moment entertain the idea of
having such a person on board my ship.”
Before the shuddering creature fell a man caught her, and then she was
placed in the boat and taken ashore. Of course some of the Frenchmen
thought it right to demand an explanation from S------, who said--
“I've none to give, gentlemen. If any of you want to fight me, well and
good, although I don't like quarrelling over a pavement-woman. Besides,
I rather think you'll find that the lady will _now_ be quite an
acquisition to you.”
But S------'s revenge was not complete. He had previously arranged
matters with his engineer, who presently came along and announced an
accident to the machinery--the steamer would be delayed a couple of
days. He wanted to see her again--so he told Chester.
“It was a cruel thing,” said his friend.
“Bah!” said S------, “come with me.”
In the crowded bar of the café a woman was laughing and talking gaily.
Something made her look up. She put her hand to her eyes and walked
slowly from the room.
As the two Englishmen walked slowly down to the wharf the handsome
Captain S------ whistled cheerily, and asked Chester on board to hear
him and his steward play violin and piccolo. “By God, S------,” said
Chester, “you have no heart!”
“Right you are, my lad. She made it into stone. But it won't hurt her as
it did me. You see, these Frenchmen here pay well for new beauty; and
women love money--which is a lucky thing for many men.”