BATAVIA--A STRANGE MEETING.
When I realized that the Kanaka boy, Rhotoma Jimmy, was really dead, the
shock the discovery gave me may be better imagined than described. I was
the last person, I told myself, to take a fellow-creature's life without
adequate reason, and if it came to that, I had only struck the man in
purest self-defence. Indeed, had I not closed with him, he would
undoubtedly have murdered me. It was fortunate, I thought, that the
Albino had come on deck in time to witness the conclusion of the affair.
Ordering the body to be taken forrard, I stumped the deck for nearly an
hour, endeavouring to make the Albino see how it had happened. His
manner struck me as odd; but I was too agitated to attach much
importance to that. Among other things, also, I questioned him about the
future; I told him that I did not like being so much in his debt, and
finally asked him to take the schooner in lieu of payment. He hesitated
for a while, and then requested a day or two to think it over. But
during the evening he returned to the subject, and stated that he had
decided to do what I asked. Thereupon we drew up the necessary
documents, and when I had signed them the _Mother of Pearl_ was no
longer my property. Little did I see how artfully my ruin had been
contrived.
Next morning we were abreast the Java coast; Madura on our starboard
bow, Sourabaya away to port. From the latter place to Tanjong Priok, as
the seaport of Batavia is called, is but a short run, and the _Mother of
Pearl_, with everything in her favour, was not long in accomplishing it.
As if an omen of the disastrous events which were to befall me during my
stay in Java, we sighted the breakwater on a wet, miserable, depressing
afternoon. Our moorings were on the left hand of the harbour, just abaft
a Dutch man-o'-war, and almost opposite the Custom House. The view was
about as cheerless as the day; the soup-coloured sea, slimy wharves,
gaunt, wind-tossed trees, made up a picture that was suggestive of
cholera, Yellow Jack, and a multiplicity of unknown horrors. There was
nothing to detain us on board, so as soon as the necessary formalities
had been complied with, Juanita, the Albino, and I went ashore, intent
upon visiting the city before we settled our plans for the future.
From the railway-station we drove to the Hotel des Indes. It was the
first time I had been in Java, but the Albino seemed to be familiar with
every part of it. It was in keeping with his strange character that he
should be thoroughly at home in all the out-of-the-way places of the
world. When I said as much to him, he laughed, and gave utterance to one
of his odd remarks, to the effect that "Strange dogs must know strange
kennels."
In the evening, as soon as dinner was over, Juanita and I passed from
the hotel gardens into the broad street which runs alongside the canal.
Though the rain had ceased, and it was a perfect night, hardly a soul
was abroad. At intervals mysterious watchmen emerged from their shelters
to look at us, but finding nothing suspicious in our behaviour, retired
into them again. With these few exceptions we had the streets to
ourselves. The great round moon, sailing serenely overhead through a
cloudless sky, the tropic foliage, lights flashing amid the trees, all
combined to produce a scene that was almost fairy-like in its exquisite
loveliness. And after the cooping up of shipboard we were both in the
mood to appreciate its beauty. Up one road and down another we passed,
conversing quietly, until at length we found ourselves upon the King's
Plain.
Here I prepared myself to broach the subject of our future. To my
surprise, Juanita received my ideas with a peculiar air of fretfulness
that on looking back upon now I can easily account for. At the time,
however, I remember it caused me a considerable amount of pain.
Under a small tope of trees she stopped, and placing her hand on my arm,
said in answer to a speech of mine--
"You are quite right. I fear this _is_ the end of everything for us.
When we leave Batavia our ways must lie in different directions."
"You mean," I continued, "because you believe your husband to be still
alive?"
She hesitated before replying.
"Yes," she finally answered. But there was something in her voice that
made me believe that though she gave it that reason, it was not exactly
what was in her mind.
"And what will you do now, Juanita?"
"Endeavour to find that man, and repay him for his treachery. That's
what I shall do."
Simple as were her words, I cannot express on paper anything like the
ferocity of the tone in which they were uttered. But this mood only
lasted a few seconds. Then came the old wail.
"Oh, Jack, Jack! if you only knew; if we could but be our true selves
for one little moment!"
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind, you will know soon enough, and, oh, how you will hate me
for it! But now,--oh, I cannot, Jack,--I cannot!"
Here she fell to crying, just as she had done on the schooner. It was an
exact repetition of her strange behaviour on that eventful night. I did
my best to comfort her, and after a long while succeeded. She dried her
tears, and we set off upon our homeward walk. Not satisfied with what
she had told me, I determined to renew the subject on the morrow.
But the morrow had something of its own in store for me, of which I
could not have even the vaguest idea.
When we returned to the hotel, the Albino was smoking in the verandah.
After a few commonplaces about the beauty of the night, I went into my
room to procure a cigar, leaving Juanita alone with him. As soon as I
had obtained a weed and lit it I rejoined them. Through no fault of mine
they did not perceive me until I was close upon them. Macklin held a
paper in his hand, from which I presumed he had just been reading.
Juanita was evidently much put out about something.
"No, no, it's too cruel," she said, "I cannot do it."
To which he replied--
"I tell you, you must. It's all arranged, so don't let me hear any more
nonsense about it."
When I coughed to warn them of my presence, both seemed considerably
disturbed, though the Albino passed it off with his customary ease.
After they retired to their rooms, I remained in the verandah smoking.
Suddenly my eye caught sight of something white upon the ground. Picking
it up, I discovered it to be a cablegram from London. It was addressed
to Macklin, and ran as follows:--
"Still unclaimed. Come at once. Don't delay."
The signature was a name I had never heard before.
On my way to my room I called in upon him to restore the document,
explaining where I had found it. He thanked me civilly enough, and that
was the last of the matter for the time.
Breakfast over next morning, I settled myself in an easy-chair beside
Juanita in the verandah, and lit a cigar. The Albino was not to be seen,
nor had I set eyes on him up to that time. Juanita's behaviour,
generally rather strange, was now altogether peculiar. She seemed afraid
to look me in the face, and I was in the act of asking her to tell me
what was the matter, when she suddenly turned pale, and rising, retired
hurriedly into her own apartment. As she disappeared I chanced to look
round. A party of Malay police under a Dutch officer were approaching
me. The officer held a sheet of paper in his hand. This when he reached
my chair he presented, at the same time saying in broken English--
"Ess it you are Jan Ram-say? De captain _Mother Pearl_ sheep?"
Replying to the effect that I was the man he sought, I asked his
business, whereupon he said--
"You are arrest, Mynheer, for murder!"
I give you my word I was so astonished you could have knocked me down
with a feather. That the warrant, for so I conjectured the paper he held
in his hand to be, was for my arrest on a charge of causing the death of
the Kanaka Rhotoma Jimmy, I had no doubt; but who could have supplied
the information that produced it? How bitterly I blamed myself for
delaying to report the matter to the consul! Now it would probably be a
matter of some hours before I could free myself.
Seeing that the officer desired me to accompany him, I called Juanita to
me, and I shall never forget the look upon her face when she came into
the verandah. The officer bowed politely to her.
"Juanita," I said, "I am arrested for the murder of that Kanaka boy.
It's only a matter of form, but it will necessitate my leaving you for
an hour or so. Tell Macklin what has happened, and ask him to come at
once to our consul, that's a good girl."
Thereupon I surrendered myself to the officer, who, to my supreme
annoyance, insisted on handcuffing me like a common malefactor. Then the
Malay policemen, wretched little fellows but little bigger than monkeys,
ranking themselves on either side, and the officer taking the lead, off
we set for the lock-up. Here I was detained for nearly an hour, in
company with a collection of the vagabond riff-raff of the town, at the
end of which time I was handcuffed again, and marched off to the office
of the English consul.
On arrival there I was thrust into a small room and allowed to cool my
heels for ten minutes or so. After that I was led into a spacious
chamber, partaking more of the nature of an office than a court of
justice, and placed in what was equivalent to the dock.
An elderly gentleman of dignified appearance, whom I rightly judged to
be the consul, sat at a large desk at the further end of the room,
busily writing in a book before him. A couple of clerks were ranged at
desks hard by, and two or three native policemen lounged near the door.
Presently the consul looked up, and intimated that the case should
commence.
I was thereupon charged with having wilfully and maliciously caused the
death of a native known as Rhotoma Jimmy, aboard the schooner _Mother of
Pearl_ while on a voyage from Vanua Lava to Batavia. Witnesses were
called, and, to my delight, the first person to appear was none other
than John Macklin. His face when he looked towards me was filled with
the deepest concern, and he gave his evidence with well-simulated
reluctance.
He deposed to being the owner of the schooner, and therefore my
employer; also to having been witness to the _whole_ affray on the night
in question. I had, he was extremely sorry to say, always betrayed an
intense and unreasoning dislike to the dead man, and for this, on more
than one occasion, he had been compelled to remonstrate with me. On the
night of the murder I had pulled the man away from the wheel after
making some complaint about his steering, and without warning struck him
a heavy blow with a belaying-pin on the side of his head, thus
undoubtedly causing his death.
I could hardly believe my ears. Was it possible that a man, confessedly
my friend, could so unblushingly swear a fellow-creature's life away?
When he went on to say, that with the exception of this one single
instance, I had always borne an excellent character, and that he himself
was much attached to me, I could have throttled him where he stood, and
gone willingly to the gallows for it.
The next witness was the mate. At least, if he had not seen the affair,
he would be able to clear my character of the charge of ill-will against
the dead man. But, to my continued horror, he corroborated all the
Albino had said, at the same time throwing in some artistic touches of
his own, which did not mend matters. When he had done me all the harm he
could--God alone knows for what reason--he stepped down, and the next
witness was called. Then who should enter the room but Juanita! My heart
leapt for joy. She at least would be true to me, and by her help I might
be able to give my enemies the lie. As I looked at her noble figure, and
noted the proud flash of her eyes as she glanced round the court, I
could have laughed them all to scorn. But my feeling of confidence was
of short duration.
To the first question as to whether she had seen my assault on the man,
she falteringly answered "Yes." Then my heart became heavy as lead; I
knew I was ruined and done for. What she told the court further I never
heard. When she had given her evidence, she left the room on the
Albino's arm weeping bitterly, and I knew I was the victim of as vile a
conspiracy as ever was hatched to promote a man's ruin.
Having heard all the witnesses, the consul asked me if I had anything to
say. The only chance I could see of saving myself was to request that
the crew might be examined, and to this he consented, adjourning the
case for that purpose until next day. Disregarding any thought of
applying for bail, I allowed myself to be marched away again, not to
the lock-up this time, but to the Dutch prison itself, a great rambling
barrack of a place on the other side of the town.
Once there, I was cast into a large yard, where a meal of rice was given
me. But I was too cast down and utterly miserable to eat. The more I
reflected upon my situation, the worse it appeared to become. If my
enemies intended thus to swear away my life, goodness only knew what the
end would be! The reason for it was what puzzled me. I could make
neither head nor tail of it. But though I could not fathom the Albino's
motive, I began to see the reason of Juanita's strange behaviour the
previous night, and the vague hints she had thrown out that evening
alongside the island. Could it be possible that all the time she was in
collusion with the Albino? This notion I discarded at once. What most
affected me was that they were in league now.
For hours I sat thus brooding over my unhappy fate. At last, unable to
bear it any longer, and to distract my thoughts, I turned to examine my
companions, and the place in which I was confined. I found myself in a
large quadrangle about fifty yards long by thirty wide, bounded on
either side by rows of cells, and having at either end high walls of
rough masonry, each surmounted with a bristling _cheval de frise_. As
far as I could gather, the prisoners confined in that portion of the
gaol might have numbered a hundred, and were for the most part Malays
and Chinamen, with a sprinkling of Europeans. As soon as they became
aware of my presence they crowded round me, gesticulating, and
criticising my woe-begone appearance. Among them I noticed one whom I
knew at once for an Englishman. In spite of his rags and filth he was
the handsomest man I had ever seen; but it was a wild reckless sort of
beauty for all that. He came over to me, and placing his hand on my
shoulder, said--
"You're an Englishman, I can see. Now, how the deuce do you come here?"
I told him I was accused of murdering a man aboard the ship of which I
was skipper, and that my life was being sworn away--
He laughed and went on--
"My boy, I pity you if you once get into this place. Look at me, I've
been in here over six months; put away for resenting an insult from a
Dutch officer; not allowed to communicate with my consul, and told to
hold my jaw directly I ask for justice. I tell you you're in luck's way
if you even get brought to trial. The consul will ship you off to
Singapore by the next mail, while I'll have to rot here till I can pass
the word to some one outside to make inquiries. That's their notion of
civilization in this God-forsaken country."
At that moment a bell clanged, and the crowd began to scurry into their
cells for the night. I found that my new friend and I were located with
about fourteen others in the same dormitory. On inspection it proved to
be a large bare room, ill-lighted, ill-kept, and, like all other parts
of the prison, villainously dirty. The beds such as they were, were
strewn about on the floor, just wherever their owners cared to place
them, and each one had a new and complicated odour of its own. As soon
as we had entered, the door was shut, and we knew that we might consider
ourselves locked up for the night.
One thing struck me. I could not help noticing the respect with which my
companion was regarded by his fellow-prisoners. His word seemed to rule
as law, and no sooner did he express a wish than it was, if it lay
within their power, immediately gratified. Thus when he asked that we
might be left alone, the rest of the prisoners migrated to the other end
of the room, and we were free to continue our conversation
uninterrupted.
"Now let's have your story," he said, seating himself on the pile of
blankets by my side. "You can't think what a pleasure it is to me to
have an Englishman to talk to! You say you're the victim of a
conspiracy; tell me all about it from the beginning to the end. Who
knows but that I may be able to throw some new light upon the subject."
Beginning at the very commencement, I told him everything, only
suppressing Juanita's name. He listened with the utmost attention, and
his interest seemed to increase as the story developed. When I had
finished, he said--
"By Jove! I begin to think I do see a glimmering of reason in it after
all. But it's a strange enough affair, if you like. Now first tell me
what sort of man this dwarf is, who proved himself your friend by
lending you the money to buy the schooner, and your enemy, by
misrepresenting your connection with that nigger."
"Well, among other things, he was an Albino."
He jumped up like a shot.
"An Albino and a dwarf? Great snakes! What was his name?"
So taken aback was I by his excitement, that for the instant I could
only stare at him. He seemed more affected by my story than if he had
undergone it all himself.
"Quickly," he said, "what is the name of this dwarf, this Albino?"
"John Macklin," I answered promptly, and when he heard it he began to
pace the room, like a man labouring under some extraordinary emotion.
For a few minutes he occupied himself in this fashion. Then, in the
middle of one of his peregrinations, he stopped short, and asked me
another question.
"And the woman, what was she like? Was she tall and dark, foreign in
appearance, with a suspicion of a moustache, and a little mole on the
lobe of her left ear?"
I nodded, wonderstruck. He smiled a pitying sort of smile.
"Perhaps her name was Juanita?"
Again I nodded.
"She hailed from South America?"
I said I believed so.
"Well, all things considered, I reckon this bit of business fairly licks
creation."
This he said more to himself than to me.
"Anybody would think you knew these people," I remarked, chock-full of
astonishment.
"Know them? Well, if I haven't cause enough to know them, there's not a
man knocking round this old universe who has! But their cheek beats
cock-fighting. Mark my words, it'll be diamond cut diamond between them
now."
"You're getting out of my depth. What the deuce do you mean?"
"Never you mind just now. Tell me one thing more. When the Albino found
the money for you to purchase the schooner, did he say that he knew
Juanita?"
"I should think not. On the other hand, he sternly forbade my even
letting her know of his existence."
"Ah! that throws another light upon affairs. They were playing lone
hands after all. He's just 'Old Nick' himself, is John Macklin, and
she's pretty near as bad. Now, when you left Thursday Island, am I right
in surmising that you steered a straight course for the Banks Group?"
"I don't know how you guessed it, but we did."
"And you brought up off Vanua Lava, maybe?"
"That's so. You've hit it again."
"You went ashore to a grave about a hundred yards inland, under a tope
of trees, and alongside a high bank, to look for a locket round a dead
man's neck?"
The excitement was growing intense. Hardly able to trust myself to
speak, I fell back on nodding.
"Then you opened the grave and discovered a coffin?"
"Yes."
"And you found in it?"
"Nothing more nor less than a sheet of lead."
"Ho, ho! I can imagine their disappointment. And then the Albino put in
an appearance?"
"He did."
"At his suggestion you set sail for Batavia?"
"Yes; but why Batavia? Only tell me that, and I'll say you've got the
tow-rope of the whole mystery."
"Why, to me it's the simplest part of it. Look here, can't you see this?
The woman, for some reason, had staked all she'd got on finding that
locket buried with the dead man. That's it, isn't it? Well, the Albino
was a stranger on Thursday, and was not known to do any work. That being
so, why was he there? People don't live on Thursday for pleasure, or the
good of their healths, I reckon?"
I made a negative sign, and he continued--
"Why, you chuckle-head, can't you see he was there because he was
watching some one? I leave it to you to figure out who that some one
was."
"Juanita, I suppose."
"You suppose! Of course it was. Well, she tells you she wants money to
reach a certain island for a certain purpose. You carry the news on to
him. That's his dart exactly. That's just what he wanted to know. He
wants that locket too. But he can only get it through her. So, under a
cloak of friendship he lends you the amount to get the boat, and then
clears for his natural life to the island to be ready for you."
"Yes, your theory's very pretty, but here's the corker. How did he find
out the island's name? He didn't get it from me, because I didn't know
it till we sailed. Somehow, that don't seem to tally."
"Why, you galoot, don't you think, long before that, he had found out
where the schooner that brought the woman and her husband from Tahiti
touched before reaching Thursday--where, in fact, they buried the man he
wanted to catch. You bet he did."
"I never thought of that."
"Perhaps not; but I did. He sets off, as I say, reaches the island,
watches to see where the grave is, and what success she meets with when
she opens it; and then, when he finds out how he's been tricked, saddles
himself upon you in order to watch the woman further. She faints
directly she sees him, proving as clear as daylight that not only has
she met him before, but that she has good cause to be frightened of him.
By Jove! I can imagine the shock to their systems when they discovered
that the man whom they both believed to be dead was in reality
alive--that he'd hoodwinked them after all."
He threw back his head and laughed.
"And what then?" I asked.
"Why, don't you see, the treasure they're after is slipping through
their fingers. The man has six months start of them. Directly they
arrive in Batavia, the Albino sends a cablegram to England. He receives
a reply. What was it?"
"'Still unclaimed. Come at once. Don't delay,'" I answered, reciting the
words on the form I had picked up in the verandah of the Hotel des
Indes.
"And what significance has that for you?"
"I can't say, unless it affects the treasure."
"You've drawn your bead on the bull's-eye this time, sure enough. That's
exactly what it does affect. It affects it like grim death. Don't you
see--the other man hasn't got home yet. So they've still a chance for
the money. Now they know they've just got to get up and clear for all
they're worth to London. What then?"
"It's no use; I'm done for, clean stumped! After that, I can't make head
or tail of it."
"Why, they argue in this way. They can't take the woman's lover with
them, can they? He'd not only be in the way, but he'd probably want to
go shares in the boodle. The woman is too suspicious to let the Albino
go alone, so, as the man has served his purpose, he must be got rid of.
But how? 'Ah!' says the Albino, 'I've got it! The murder of the Kanaka;
that'll fit him like a glove!' Therefore this charge was trumped up to
detain you here. D'you know. I should be more than a little surprised if
they are not already gone."
"In that case, what will become of me?"
"That remains to be seen. I fancy to-morrow will set it right. But I
suppose you understand now how you've been bilked?"
"Worse luck! But there's one thing puzzles me more than all the rest,
and that is, how the deuce you come to know all this so accurately."
"My boy, if I gave you a hundred guesses you'd never hit it."
"Well then, I give it up, first time."
"And yet, I reckon, it's as clear as daylight. Who should you call the
most important person in the whole affair?"
"Why, the chap who caused it all--the man who led them such a dance--the
man who died."
"You mean the man who, by rights, ought to have been where the sheet of
lead was, in that coffin?"
"I do."
"Well, that's how I came to know about it."
I jumped to my feet, and all the other occupants of the room, hearing my
exclamation of surprise, turned round to look at me.
"What the devil do you mean?"
"Why, can't you guess? Because, sonny, I'm that man. I'm the man who led
them such a dance. I'm the man who ought to have been dead and buried in
that coffin. In fact, _I'm Marcos Veneda_!"
PART III.
CHAPTER I.
RAMSAY IS RELEASED FROM CUSTODY.
To say that I was only astonished by Veneda's information, and the
explanation he gave to my mystery, would be to define it too tamely
altogether. To tell the truth, at the time I was so completely
overwhelmed by it as to be unable to grasp, in the least degree, what
significance it had for me.
Strange though it may appear, while the most galling part of the whole
business could not but be Juanita's treachery to myself, this was almost
atoned for, in my mind, by the remembrance of her singular behaviour on
the evening preceding my arrest. Come what may, with this knowledge
before me, I shall always cherish the belief that not only was the
affection she pretended to entertain for me perfectly genuine, but also
that she was alone driven to such extreme measures by the extraordinary
influence the Albino possessed over her.
Poor Juanita! To be unable to feel bitterly towards you may be to show
myself a soft-hearted fool, but whenever I think of that night on the
King's Plain, and remember your sorrowful cry, "Oh, Jack, Jack, if you
only knew; if we could but be our true selves for one little moment!"
all reproaches die out of my heart, and in their place springs up a
great pity and a great compassion for you.
Another thing that gave me plenty to think about was the strange fact of
my meeting Veneda, of all people, and in such a place! Though as yet I
knew next to nothing of his history, I could not but see that his
connection with the affair we were both so interested in was genuine
enough. As for himself, as soon as he had told me his name he left me,
and went without another word to his bed, not to speak again till
morning.
When I woke it was just daylight, the door was open, and the prisoners
were passing in and out. So far as I could see, in the part of the
building in which I was confined, no recognized employment was found for
them; though in the other wards, I believe, they were taken out under
escort, to do the street scavenging, wood-cutting, public gardening,
etc.
A little before seven o'clock a coarse meal was served to us, and while
I was partaking of it, Veneda came up. I made room for him to sit down
on the bench beside me, for I was burning to question him further on the
subject that lay nearest to both our hearts.
"Look here," I said, "for goodness' sake let's get this thing properly
squared up. I've been puzzling my brain over it till I'm nearly crazy. I
_must_ understand two or three things more."
"Go ahead," he replied; "you can't be more anxious to get to the bed
rock than I am. What do you want to know?"
"Well, in the first place, how on earth you managed to die and come to
life again so cleverly? Juanita told me she saw you lying stiff and
stark in your bunk."
"So she did, as far as she knew; but I was only playing 'possum. It was
the one way out of my difficulty, you see. I knew I had to get rid of
her, and there was no other fashion in which it could be managed."
"Then the captain was in the secret after all, and his dislike to you
was all assumed?"
"Every bit! But he was a money-grubbing old dog, was Boulger, and it
cost me a cool hundred to bring him up to the scratch. Once that was
done, all was plain sailing. After leaving Tahiti, cholera, Yellow Jack,
fish-poisoning, or some other disease came aboard, and the crew and mate
went down before it like ninepins. There was my chance! I pretended to
go under to it too. The skipper acted his part like a little man, and
wouldn't let Juanita into the cabin for fear of detection. Then, in the
night, I died. Next day, according to her wish, my dummy was taken
ashore, and buried on Vanua Lava, while I was safely stowed away in the
skipper's cabin, until we reached Thursday Island. There _she_ remained
to hunt up a way of getting back to look for that locket."
"While you?"
"Next morning I caught a craft sailing this way, intending to pick up a
mail-boat from Batavia, home. But luck was against me; I ran athwart the
hawse of a Dutch officer; put a bullet into him, and got locked up.
That's how I came here. Want to know any more?"
"One thing. Now you're alive, what is going to become of your wife?"
"My wife? And who may she be? Never heard of the lady."
"But Juanita?"
Veneda whistled a long note of astonishment.
"You don't mean to tell me she's been parading me as her husband?"
"You're not? You're not Juanita's husband?"
"You'd better believe I'm not."
"Then, my God! how I've been fooled!"
Veneda seemed not to notice my remark, but sat staring at the blue sky
above us. Suddenly he sprang to his feet.
"Look here, Ramsay," he cried, "come what may, I must get out of this,
and you must help me."
"How can I help you? If it comes to that, I'm in quite as bad a fix as
you are."
"No, I think not," he continued gravely. "I shouldn't be at all
surprised if you find yourself at liberty to-night."
"What do you mean?" I asked, jumping at the hope he held out. "What do
you think can bring such a thing about?"
"Never mind, you wait and see. But if you do get off, will you pledge
yourself to assist me?"
"If I do get off," I said, "I could inform the consul of your being
here, and he would get you out himself."
"No, no, that would never do; I've been thinking it over. If the consul
gets wind of it, he'll make inquiries; then the matter will get bruited
about, and will be certain to come to the ears of the Albino's agents."
"Agents?"
"Why, of course. You don't imagine that little devil hasn't arranged for
somebody to watch your movements here, and at the same time to hunt
about for me! Bless your heart, now that he knows I'm alive, I'd bet a
thousand pounds to a half-penny he finds out I'm in here."
"Good heavens," I cried, "it's a perfect network of plots and
counterplots, and I seem fated not to understand it. Now you're alive,
and still the possessor of your money, what do they want that locket
for? They can never hope to find out where you buried the gold."
"Buried the what?"
"The gold you obtained by your last legacy when you were in San
Francisco."
"Sonny, they've been playing you again. What do you mean? I never had
any legacy."
Thereupon I set to work and told him the story Juanita had told me. He
laughed uproariously, then smacking me on the shoulder said--
"You just help me to get out of here, and you'll see what I'm worth. I
promise you'll not find me ungrateful."
"Well, if I do get off," I answered, "I give you my word that I'll do my
best for you."
We shook hands gravely upon it, and I continued--
"In what way do you propose to effect your escape? If we're going to
make any plans, we'd better set to work upon them at once."
"Walk over here with me and I'll tell you all I think."
With that we began to pace the courtyard, and Veneda to propound his
theory.
"Now," he said, "my idea is this. You see that further wall?"
I nodded. It was, as I have said before, a stone affair, perhaps thirty
feet in height, surmounted by a bristling _cheval de frise_.
"Well, on the other side of it, as far as I can gather from the natives
locked up in here, is a road, with a big paddy field on the other side
of that again. At night, a sentry or patrol of some kind passes round
the entire building once every ten minutes, and naturally our attempt
must be made between his visits."
"But how do you propose to get over it?" I asked, looking at the wall's
apparently unscalable height.
"Very easily," my intrepid companion replied, "if you will only carry
out my instructions to the letter."
"Let me hear what they are, and I'll do the best I can for you."
"Well, in the first place you will procure from one of the stores in
the town, sixty feet of strong rope. With this carefully disguised you
will wait till midnight; then you must engage a small kharti (native
cab) with a good strong Malay boy driver, and proceed to the other side
of this wall. When you get there, and only then, you will say to the
boy--by the way, do you speak Malay?"
"No; unfortunately I don't."
"That's a pity, but it can't be helped."
He stopped and thought for a moment, then borrowing a pencil and a piece
of paper, wrote something on it.
"There are two sentences," he said, and he repeated them once or twice
to enable me to pick up the proper accent. "This one means, 'To the
gaol'--that, 'You shall have ten guilders if you help me.' Say them over
to me."
I repeated them till I was tired, and only then did he seem satisfied.
"I think he'll _sumjao_ you now," he said.
"And when I get here," I continued, "what am I to do?"
"Then you will uncoil the rope and throw one end over the wall, to the
left, there. I will make it fast round my waist, and you and the boy
must manage between you to pull me up to the top. It'll be a struggle,
but you must do it somehow."
"And if the sentry should appear while we're at it, what then?"
"Well, in that case," he said with a laugh, "I'll leave it to your own
instinct to know what to do with him; but I should suggest timing it so
that you'll just miss him."
"And how are you going to manage to get into this courtyard after you've
been locked up for the night?"
"Leave that to me, I'll work it. Perhaps I shan't go in at all."
"And when you're out, what are your plans?"
"Tanjong Priok, as slippery as the Malay can take us. Then we must get
into the docks, borrow a boat, and set sail for the islands, to hide
there till we can get on to Singapore or Ceylon. Batavia will be no sort
of place for either of us after that. You'll stand by me, Ramsay?"
"I've given you my word," I said; "I can't say more than that, can I?"
"Not if you're the man I take you to be. Anyhow I'll trust you."
Just at that moment a stir was observable in the yard; the great gate at
the end swung open, and a party of police entered. They came to where I
stood, and signified that I should accompany them.
"Good luck," cried Veneda as I rose to go; "don't forget me."
I waved my hand to him and off we set. Once more our route lay in the
direction of the consul's office, and arriving there, I was ushered into
his presence forthwith. It seemed to me that on this occasion he
regarded me in rather a somewhat different light.
"I suppose you're aware," he began, when the case was opened, "of the
serious nature of the charge against you?"
I told him I was.
"Have you anything more to say on the subject?"
"Nothing, but that I am the victim of a villainous conspiracy," I
answered. "I certainly did struggle with the man, and I don't deny that
I hit him, but it was in purest self-defence. He was a noted bad
character, and only came aboard at Thursday Island as a stowaway. On the
occasion in question I had reprimanded him several times without any
effect, and I was in the act of doing so again when he rushed at me. Had
I not closed with him, he would have dashed my brains out with a
belaying-pin. It was my fault that he died, but though I struck him, I
had not the very faintest intention of killing him. I don't know who
laid the charge against me, but that it was preferred simply to get me
out of the way, I am as certain as that I stand before you now."
Thereupon, being permitted, I set to work and told him my story, just as
I had told it to Veneda the preceding night. He listened with the utmost
attention, and having asked me one or two questions, said--
"I am inclined to believe you. There is certainly something very
underhand somewhere."
Stopping his examination, he wrote something on a sheet of paper, and
ringing a bell, ordered that it should be despatched immediately. It was
a telegram, I discovered later, to Thursday Island. Having done this,
he recommenced his examination, and finally remarked--"I have sent for
some information about you; until I receive it, you will be detained
here."
Turning to the police, he said something in Dutch, whereupon I was
marched into another room, and locked up. During the period of waiting
my thoughts were none of the pleasantest. From a consideration of my own
position, they wandered to the strange story Veneda had told me, and
thence, by natural transition, to Juanita and her professed love for
myself. From Juanita they passed back, across what seemed a vast
interval of years, to my first love Maud; and as I allowed my mind to
dwell upon her sweet face, her ladylike manners, her gentle disposition,
and her general refinement, a great home-sickness came upon me, and I
resolved then and there, that if ever the opportunity offered, I would
forsake my wandering life, and go back to England, like the prodigal
son, never to leave it again so long as I should live.
While these thoughts were thronging my brain, I was again summoned into
the consul's presence. This time he greeted me with a smile.
"Mr. Ramsay," he said, "I have been making inquiries in Thursday Island
about you, and partly on their account, and partly in consideration of
the fact that the _Mother of Pearl_ and all the witnesses against you
have seen fit to decamp, goodness only knows where, I have decided to
release you from custody, on the ground that there is not sufficient
reliable evidence to warrant your detention. You may thank your stars
that you have got off so easily, and I hope this will be a lesson to you
to keep out of such company in the future."
I thanked him warmly for his action in the matter, and at the same time
asked him if my bag had been taken away from the Hotel des Indes. It
had, and he gave instructions to his clerk that it should be handed over
to me. I was particularly anxious about this, for I had nearly forty
pounds of the three hundred the Albino had given me in it, and I knew I
should want all the money I could get to ensure success in the perilous
enterprise which lay before me.
After answering the consul's inquiries as to what I intended to do with
myself now that my ship had sailed without me, by saying that I had not
yet made up my mind, I left his office, and departed in the direction of
the town.
As we drove through it on the ill-starred day of our arrival, I had
noticed some Stores, which I now thought would be likely to contain the
article I required. I was right, and obtaining what I sought in the way
of rope, I returned to my hotel, took a room, and composed myself to
rest until it should be time to set off on the business of the night.
As darkness fell it began to rain, and continued to pour down until well
after ten o'clock. Fortunately not a sign of the moon was to be seen; a
thick pall of clouds obscured the entire sky. Having nothing to do, I
sat and smoked in my verandah all the evening, and it was not until
after eleven that I commenced any preparations for my departure. Then,
stowing my money and what few little things I valued among my effects
about my person, and carrying the big parcel of rope, wrapped up in as
unsuspicious a manner as possible, under my arm, I closed my bedroom
door, and passed out across the garden into the streaming street.
CHAPTER II.
GAOL-BREAKING EXTRAORDINARY.
When I left the hotel I hurried with all the speed I could command in
the direction I knew the gaol to lie. As I went, I kept my eyes open for
a kharti of the required description. It was late, I knew, for a cabby
to be abroad, but I had little doubt that I should soon find some driver
who would be glad to earn a few additional guilders, in spite of the
dangerous nature of the business for which I wanted him. Apart from any
consideration of the time to be saved by driving, it was very necessary
that I should obtain a conveyance soon, or my wanderings with a large
and heavy parcel (for sixty feet of stout rope is no light burden) would
be more than likely to attract the attention and suspicion of some of
the curious night watchmen, one of whom I passed about every hundred
yards. Fortunately, however, it was a wet night, and these gentry
preferred the shelter of their boxes to following mysterious
pedestrians, otherwise I might have been called upon to stop and give an
account of myself, and my reason for being so late abroad.
As no sign of any conveyance was to be seen, I began to despair of
obtaining one, and was in the act of turning down a by-lane, through
which it would be impossible for a vehicle to pass, in order to reach
the prison, when I heard the sounds of a pony's feet behind me, and the
cries of the driver urging it forward.
As soon as he was close enough, I sang out to the cabby to stop.
Thereupon he hauled up, and waited for me to approach him. As this
looked like my last chance, I wasn't going to give him an opportunity of
saying whether he wanted another fare that night or not, but jumped up
on the back seat before he could expostulate, and pressing five guilders
into his hand, bade him drive to the gaol.
He must have thought me mad or drunk, for he approached a smile as near
as a Malay can get to it without breaking his neck, and urged the pony
forward at increased speed. Ten minutes later we had drawn up opposite
the gaol wall, under cover of some over-hanging trees, and I was
anxiously waiting for the passing of the sentry, and the approach of
twelve o'clock.
By this time my charioteer had some idea of what was going forward, for
he gave unmistakable signs that he wished to be off. This, however, I
had no intention of allowing him to do, so placing another five guilders
in his hand, I repeated the sentence Veneda had taught me so carefully,
to the effect that "he should have ten more if he helped me." This
seemed to decide him, for he jabbered something in reply, and I saw by
the way he settled himself down in his seat, that not only had he
resigned himself to his fate, but that I could safely count upon his
co-operation.
Hardly had I finished my talk with him than I espied something dark
moving against the further end of the long bare wall. My heart gave a
jump _as I recognized the Malay sentry_. He was armed with rifle and
bayonet, and was muffled up like the watchmen I had met on my journey
through the town. So narrow was the road that, to my horror, I saw he
would be compelled to pass within fifteen feet of where our conveyance
stood; so close indeed, that it seemed impossible he could fail to be
aware of our presence. But he was no doubt tired and sleepy, and as on
this side of the prison no eye could observe his actions, he was in the
habit of indulging himself with a nap as he passed round it.
Directly he had turned the corner I hastened across the road, and
prepared to hurl the rope I had previously uncoiled over the wall.
Beckoning my cabman to me, I bade him lay hold of one end, and next
moment the other was whistling through the air. As I threw it, I
wondered if Veneda had managed his part of the contract, and also what
would befall me if he did not make his appearance before the sentry
should pass that way again. But I was not to be kept very long in
suspense, for a minute had hardly elapsed before I felt a sharp twitch
upon the line; a signal, I did not doubt, that all was right on the
other side. A second jerk bade me pull.
I promise you it was no easy task to haul a heavy man like Veneda over
a thirty feet wall, more especially as the rope had to draw over the
_cheval de frise_ above the stone coping. It seemed as if we should
never get him to the top, and that the sentry _must_ appear before we
could accomplish it. I don't think I ever spent a longer five minutes in
my life. But every second the pile of rope was increasing at our feet;
Veneda could not surely be more than a few feet from the top. Suddenly
there was a crack, a big jump on the rope, and a dull and ominous thud
on the other side. What had happened?
I soon realized it all. The _cheval de frise_ had given way under the
strain upon it, and the rope had dropped on to the coping of the wall
itself. The thud must have been Veneda's body striking against it.
Once more we pulled till we could get no further draw on the rope. It
had jammed against the broken iron-work.
Funnelling my mouth with my hands, I called to Veneda, but received no
answer. What could be the matter? Could the bump against the wall have
stunned him? As I wondered, to my consternation I heard footsteps
approaching round the corner. It was the sentry again. Now we were in a
pretty fix! To let go the rope would be to allow Veneda to drop thirty
feet down on to the ground on the other side; yet, on the other hand, I
knew it would be fatal to permit the sentry to discover us in this
invidious position. I ransacked my brains for a way out of the
difficulty. The sweat streamed over my face; it was like some horrible
nightmare from which, strive how I would, I could not awake. And every
moment the steps were coming closer.
So far as I could see there was only one thing to be done; feeble reed
though he was to lean upon, I must trust to the fidelity of the Malay
driver. Signing to him to hang on to the rope, as if his very life
depended on it, I left him, and crept towards the corner. It was my idea
to jump upon the sentry as he came round it, hoping to being able to
silence him before he could give the alarm.
What I went through during the thirty seconds or so in which I lay
crouched behind the buttress of that wall no man will ever understand.
The steps came nearer and nearer--I pulled myself together in
preparation for the spring. It seemed as if the beating of my heart must
be plainly audible yards away.
Then suddenly a dark figure appeared before me, and I leapt upon it.
So swift was my onslaught that the man had not time to guard himself
before my left arm was round his waist and my right hand tightening on
his throat. My left leg I crooked round his right, with the intention of
throwing him. He was a plucky fellow, and did his best against me. But
his surprise was no match for my despair. As we swayed backwards and
forwards his rifle fell from his grasp, striking the wall with an awful
clatter. When I heard that I gave myself up for lost.
Exerting all my strength, I lifted him clear off the ground (a feat I
could never have accomplished in cold blood), and dashed him from me
against the buttress edge. His head struck it with a ghastly thud; he
slipped, fell, and lay upon the ground a huddled up mass of groaning
humanity. Ascertaining that he was powerless, I turned and ran in the
direction of the rope, to which I was relieved beyond all measure to
find the Malay still clinging.
What to do now was a puzzle. I reflected there were only two ways out of
it--I must either be content to abandon the enterprise altogether, and
to leave Veneda to his fate, or, as he could not come down to me, go up
to him. But whatever I intended to do must be accomplished quickly, for
it might be the sentry's duty to report himself as he went by the
guardhouse every round, and in that case his nonappearance would be the
signal for search, and we should be irretrievably lost.
With this thought in my mind I clutched the rope and began to swarm up
it, trusting to Providence that whatever was keeping it at the top would
hold it until I could get there.
Even now, when I think about the climb to the top of that prison wall, I
feel a shudder pass over me. It was interminable. I seemed to be doomed
to climb thousands of feet of rope, and never to get any farther. But at
last it was accomplished, and I was hauling myself along the broken
_cheval de frise_, to where a black mass lay blocked between it and the
stones. Needless to say, that mass was Veneda, and unconscious. He had
tied the rope round his waist before starting, and its sudden drop from
the iron-work on to the coping must have inflicted on him a terrible
wrench; in swinging round, his head had struck the wall with sufficient
force to stun him.
One glimpse was enough to show me that it was impossible for him to help
himself, so drawing the rope up, I made it fast round the stanchions of
the iron, and pulling his body over to the other side, lowered it as
gently as I could, under the circumstances, to the ground. It was a
dangerous undertaking, for, as I have said, he was a heavy man, and I
had only the narrow top of the wall on which to take a purchase with my
feet.
How it was that no one saw us from the prison side I am at a loss to
understand. I can only attribute it to the fortunate darkness of the
night; for had the moon been visible we must certainly have been
discovered.
As soon as Veneda reached the ground I slipped down the rope to his
side, and with the assistance of the Malay bore him to the cab. Then,
without waiting to ascertain the condition of the unfortunate sentry,
who still lay where I had thrown him, off we set as fast as the pony
could take us in the direction of the port.
At the best of times, and under the most pleasant circumstances, it is a
miserable drive; but with a sick man to support, for Veneda had not yet
returned to consciousness, a treacherous Malay to watch, and my own
balance in the tiny cart to keep, it was one long-continued horror.
The awkwardness of my position was increased ten-fold by Veneda's
insensibility, for, not being able to speak Malay myself, I had no one
now to fall back upon. I could only repeat "Tanjong Priok, Tanjong
Priok," over and over again, prefacing my remarks with a guilder, and
accompanying each repetition with hints of more. But such was my
despair, that had my driver attempted to play me false, I believe I
should have terminated his existence without thinking twice about the
matter.
The endurance of the little rat of a pony was nothing short of
marvellous; along heavy roads, through slushy pools, up and down hill,
he dashed with a vigour of which, had I not seen it for myself, I should
hardly have believed him capable. Now and again the moon struggled out
between the clouds to reveal a waste of horrible country. Dense mangrove
swamps, reeking paddy fields, slimy canals, funereal barges, and native
dwellings slid past us, like the ever-changing patterns of a
kaleidoscope.
Once or twice my companion showed signs of returning consciousness, but
it was only for a few seconds, and after each he inevitably sank back
again into his former comatose condition. Seeing him so long in this
state, I began to be alarmed for his life, and even seriously
contemplated abandoning the flight and taking refuge somewhere, until I
could bring trustworthy medical advice to his assistance. But this
extreme measure was, after all, not necessary, for as we approached the
port he opened his eyes.
"What's the matter?" he asked faintly, trying to lift his head up to
look about him.
I explained as briefly as I could, and asked him how he felt.
"I don't know," he said; "somehow I seem to be dead below my waist. What
happened to me? Oh, I remember, that cursed rope."
Turning his face to the driver he said something in Malay, to which the
boy offered a vigorous reply.
"I have been asking him," said Veneda, "if he can get us anywhere near
the docks without exciting attention, and he says he thinks he can. He
declares there'll be the devil and all to pay for this night's work,
which, all things considered, I don't think unlikely."
Then taking my hand, he continued, but in a different tone--
"I don't know what to say to you for what you've done for me. I'm
afraid, though, you've had your trouble in vain; I'm in an awful state."
"I'm more than sorry to hear it," I replied; "but bite on the bullet,
old man, we'll never say die."
"It's devilish good of you, Ramsay; but don't you think you'd better
clear out without me? I shan't think a bit the worse of you for it, and
it will only be spoiling your own chance to burden yourself with me."
I cannot remember what reply I made to this, but I believe it was to the
effect that we were in the same boat, and must sink or swim together.
Somehow my heart was more warmly disposed towards the poor fellow in his
helplessness than it had ever been in his strength. Such a strange and
wonderful thing is the responsibility of protection.
By this time we were close to the shore. I could smell the sea-breeze
distinctly; and the first whiff of it put new life into me. It was the
breath of freedom, and with that in my nostrils I felt there was nothing
I could not do or dare. Like the old war-horse, whose courage rises and
whose old deeds of derring-do come back to him with the ring of the
trumpet-call, so all my powers and energies derived a fresh fillip from
that glorious ozone.
When we reached a safe place the driver pulled up, and I lifted my
companion out of the cab.
Only a wall separated us from the docks. With the Malay's assistance,
and a vast deal of pain to the sufferer himself, whom I could hear
grinding his teeth in his endeavour to prevent any cry escaping him, I
got Veneda over it.
This accomplished, I gave the driver the sum I had promised him, and saw
him start away on his journey back to the city. Then I rejoined Veneda,
and taking him up in my arms, proceeded towards the wharf side. Laying
him down, I started off in search of a boat.
On every side were numerous big craft, mail-steamers, men-of-war, etc.,
but further inland, towards the river, was the sort of vessel I
wanted--a small native sailing boat of about two tons. The moon emerged
from behind a cloud as I stepped on board her to investigate. Only one
man was to be seen, and he lay asleep under a sort of thatch place aft.
Without disturbing him, I crept off again and back along the wharf to
Veneda. Taking him up, I carried him to the boat and aboard, placing him
very gently under the shelter beside the sleeping man.
Just as I did so, three bells struck on a big steamer in the pool with
alarming distinctness. The clang was taken up by some of the other boats
round about, and it was well-nigh a minute before they'd all done
chiming. To make sure of my defence I drew my revolver from my pocket
and examined the chambers; they were all charged. Then, signing my
intentions to Veneda, I placed my fingers round the sleeping man's
throat and shook him back to consciousness. I must leave you to imagine
his astonishment when he woke.
As soon as he was able to understand matters, Veneda explained in Malay
that we wanted the loan of his boat for a day or two, and that it
behoved him to go ashore quietly and peaceably, or he'd get into
trouble. But a brilliant thought had struck me. The craft was too big
for one man to manage, so, since Veneda was unable to assist, why
shouldn't we take the man as well as his property? Besides husbanding
our strength, this would prevent the authorities from obtaining any clue
as to the manner of our departure from the island.
I explained my idea to Veneda, who fell in with the notion at once. It
was a case of Hobson's choice for the nigger; he had no option but to
submit. Giving Veneda the tiller, such as it was, I escorted the owner
forward, and assisted him to get sail on her. Then, casting off, we
began to tack slowly down the harbour, past the Singapore mail-boat,
the Dutch gun-boat, and astern of the big mud-dredger, out into the open
sea. Fortunately the wind was in our favour, and though the boat was not
built on the latest yachting lines, yet it was astonishing what pace it
was possible to get out of her. What most puzzled me was the course we
ought to steer, for I hadn't the remotest acquaintance with these
waters. I put the question to Veneda, who called the man aft and sounded
him on the subject. A long jabbering ensued.
"He says it would be best for us to make further down the coast; but I
don't cotton to that notion at any price."
"What do you think then?"
"Why, my idea is, one of the small islands off Sumatra. They're right in
the way of ships. Then we'll get rid of this fellow and his boat, and
wait our chance to be picked up and carried on to Singapore or Colombo,
as the case may be."
"Very well," I said, "we'll just let her run her present course for an
hour or two, and at the same time keep our eyes open for an island that
will suit us."
Fortunately the boat was well provisioned, even to the extent of a small
supply of arrack, or native spirit, which came in handy for Veneda, so
we were not likely to want for food for some time to come.
As soon as we were clear of the land, I took my place by my poor
friend's side, and endeavoured to discover in what way he had hurt
himself. Save, however, for a few large bruises, and a cut or two,
there was nothing to indicate the nature of his injuries. Advising him
to try and obtain some sleep, which I felt sure would have a better
effect than anything I could do for him, I took the tiller and prepared
to stand the first watch. The Malay sulked forward, looking as if he'd
like to stick his _crease_ into the pair of us, which under the
circumstances perhaps was not to be wondered at.
By this time it was hard upon sunrise, and such a sunrise too! The first
sign that came to us was the paling of the larger stars in the east;
this was followed by a long thin streak of silver-grey, just balanced on
the edge of the horizon. As, bit by bit, this grey died out, its place
was taken by a faint tint of salmon-pink, which in its turn again
surrendered to all manner of other colours as the darkness drew off the
remainder of the sky. Even the sea participated in the general glory. A
wonderful hush overspread everything, and to me it seemed that an
intense melancholy had assumed possession of the world. Like the man in
the _Ancient Mariner_, we might have been the "first who had ever burst
into that silent sea." The very ripple of the water under our squat
bows, and the creaking of the boat's timbers, were subdued into harmony
with the general effect. Gradually long shafts of light pierced the
eastern heavens. Then, with almost startling suddenness, the sun leaped
above the horizon, and the sea resumed its natural hue; as if by magic,
the colours faded out of the sky, and day was born to us.
About seven o'clock Veneda woke, much refreshed by his sleep. Calling
the Malay aft I gave him the helm, getting Veneda to instruct him as to
the course I wanted steered. This done, I went forrard to prepare some
rice for breakfast. Though he never allowed a sign of it to escape him,
I knew Veneda's sufferings must be intense. As far as I could see I was
powerless to alleviate them; and whenever I asked him how he felt, he
only laughed grimly, and said--
"Get me to an island, that's all I want, get me to an island!"
All that day we sailed on and on. About midday the wind dropped, and the
boat's progress was consequently very slow. It was monotonous work, but,
as we both agreed, it was better than prison in Batavia. Towards evening
the coast of Sumatra was just distinguishable, and this we followed up
in the hope, before dark, of hitting an island that would suit us. We
sighted several, but for some reason Veneda found an objection for them
all. At last, just as I was beginning to think we should have to pass
the night at sea, we came abreast of one of which he expressed his
approval. It was very small, not more than a mile in length, but thickly
timbered, and with a broad strip of sand running all round it.
Having decided on the best spot to land, I steered the boat in, and
after a bit of manoeuvring, beached her on a good sandy bottom towards
the most northerly point. The first business was to discover if the
island contained fresh water. And here arose a difficulty. I could not
take Veneda ashore with me, and I dared not go myself and leave him at
the mercy of the Malay. He divined what was passing in my mind, and
solved the problem with his usual quickness.
"Give me your revolver, and prop me up here. I'll watch him till you
come back, never fear."
I did as he desired me, and then bidding him "good-bye," clambered over
the side and waded ashore.
CHAPTER III.
THE ISLAND.
As I splashed my way ashore, I could not help a feeling of wonderment as
to whether the whole circumstances preceding and attending our arrival
at the island were not part of some horrible dream, from which I should
presently awaken. In fact, my whole existence, from the day I left the
_Beretania_ at Port Adelaide up to the moment of my setting foot upon
these sands, appeared almost too strange to be possible. With the
dwelling of my mind upon the subject, all the events which had
accompanied my chequered career rose before me like sheeted phantoms of
a dead past. They embraced even my monotonous employment in the
ship-chandler's office, my experience on the gold-fields, and my
starvation and illness at Broken Hill; took in my life as a fireman, as
a station store-keeper, as cook on a cattle camp, as a loafer in
Brisbane, and a pearler in Torres Straits; included my love for Juanita,
my introduction to the Albino, our voyage to the island, the hoax, my
betrayal in Batavia, and my meeting with and participation in the escape
of Veneda; his accident, and finally our arrival at the place where I
now stood.
I must risk the charge of being called a Fatalist when I affirm that I
honestly believe that everything in our lives, down to the most trifling
circumstance, is mapped out for us beforehand by an all-wise Providence
to bring about a certain pre-arranged result. If this is not so, why did
I give up the sea?--why was I allowed to meet Juanita and the
Albino?--and why was I brought to Batavia? Could it have been only
chance that led me to rescue Veneda, and by so doing to work out my own
ultimate--but there you must let me cry a halt; to go into it any
further would be to anticipate the strange things I have yet to tell
you.
Having reached the shore, I looked about me for the best point at which
to strike into the undergrowth, for, as I have said, the island was
densely covered from end to end with vegetation. A spot decided on, I
threw a glance towards the boat, and plunged into the thicket.
From the beach the land rose abruptly till it reached a sandy plateau,
something less than a hundred yards long. Round this on every side trees
and shrubs throve luxuriantly, not only protecting it from the violence
of the sea-breeze, but lending to it a picturesqueness that was like a
glimpse of fairyland. What was more to my taste, however, I discovered
at the further end a stream of purest water, bubbling its tiny torrent
through the thicket down to the sea below, and here I determined to
pitch our camp, if only I could manage to convey Veneda up to it.
Above the plateau rose another slight elevation, from the summit of
which a splendid view of the sea might be obtained. Before returning to
the boat I climbed to it, and searched the offing for a sail, but not a
sign of such a thing was to be seen. The sun by this time was nearly
down, so bestowing a hasty glance upon the other side of the island, I
hastened back to the shore to fetch Veneda. Though I did not anticipate
any danger, it was with a feeling of relief that I espied the boat lying
just as I had left her, the Malay still seated forward, and my poor
friend propped up in the shelter astern.
Very well satisfied with the success of my visit of inspection, I
splashed out to his side and informed him of the result. But when I
offered to carry him up to the plateau, he was quick to point out the
difficulties of the climb, and to suggest a far safer and more
comfortable means of transit.
Once more I waded ashore, this time to return with two stout saplings,
to which I fastened a strong piece of sail-cloth, thus making a rude but
comfortable litter.
At Veneda's command the Malay jumped overboard, and placed himself
between the poles at the further end, leaving the after part resting on
the gunwale of the boat. Raising the sick man carefully in my arms, I
placed him on it, and then taking the other end myself, we were
presently bearing him triumphantly ashore.
After pausing for a moment on the beach to recover our breath, we
started on again through the thicket and across the stream, up to the
spot I had marked out for our camping-place. There, under the shadow of
a large rock, we set him down, and I returned with the Malay to secure
some necessaries from the boat.
Ere this work was accomplished the sun had disappeared, and it was time
for our evening meal. Our fare was necessarily simple, consisting of
boiled rice and a small portion of dried fish; but while I partook of it
greedily, Veneda could not be induced to touch a particle.
In truth, I was beginning to be more and more alarmed about him, for
instead of improving, his condition was growing perceptibly worse. His
face, always thin, was now pinched and contracted almost out of
recognition; only his great eyes burned like live coals in his head. His
fortitude was marvellous. In place of the hasty, ill-tempered man
Juanita had always described him to be, I found him patient,
long-suffering, and even hopeful to an extraordinary degree. It was a
piteous sight to see one hitherto so strong lying like a log, unable
even to turn himself without assistance.
As soon as our meal was eaten I set to work to construct a rough sort of
shelter for him with saplings and branches of trees, pressing the Malay
into my service. When it was completed it was not much to look at, but
it answered my purpose very well. The Malay then left us to return to
his boat, a proceeding for which I was not sorry, having no desire for
his company on that lonely spot all night.
You will notice that I had quite constituted myself Veneda's protector.
And what a strange and wonderful thing it is, that responsibility of
protection! Take for instance the man who is playing a lone hand in the
Game of Life. When he has only his own safety to consider he is careless
of danger to an extraordinary degree; on the other hand, give him but
the slightest control over, or the right to protect any one weaker than
himself, and he begins at once to discover all sorts of dangers in the
very things which hitherto he has most vehemently despised. It is the
same feeling which makes the strong man tremble when, in the first flush
of his golden love-dream, he catches the ominous word _infection_, and
remembers that even his great love is insufficient to protect his dear
one from the insidious inroads of disease.
After the sun had been down about an hour the moon rose like a ball of
gold above the farthest point of the island, revealing the waste of sea,
the coral sands, the tree-tops just rocking in the evening breeze, and
the dim stretch of land on either side of us. The soft ripple of the
wavelets on the shore sounded like faintest music in the intense
stillness, and the crooning of some belated sea-bird came like a cry
across the waters. Our fire burnt merrily, and when we had sat for some
time gazing into it, occupied with our own thoughts, which I can promise
you were none of the happiest, Veneda said he should like to tell me his
history.
Thinking it might distract his thoughts from his unhappy position, I
professed myself delighted to listen, and giving the fire a final
armful of fuel, stretched myself beside him.
It was then that I learnt the queer story which my Cousin Luke has told
you in the first part of this book, only saving the fact that Veneda
made no mention of the amount of his treasure, in what manner he had
obtained it, where it was hidden away, or how another person might
procure it. Even in the hour of his extremity his habitual caution did
not desert him; and though he must have known himself to be little
better than a dead man, he was not going to share his secret with any
one else until convinced that it was impossible for him to enjoy the
fruits of it himself.
Another strange point about this remarkable man was the affection he
displayed for small matters connected with his boyhood. He would linger
with the fondest remembrances on the most insignificant trifles. For
instance, on a certain tiny trout stream in which he had been in the
habit of fishing; on the different names scratched upon the pews in his
school chapel; on the various natures of his boyish pets, and
particularly on the vagaries of a certain one-eyed fox terrier, for whom
he seemed to have cherished a singular regard. I have often noticed this
peculiarity in men of his stamp, but never before in such a marked
degree.
While his mind was recalling these ancient recollections his face wore
an expression of unaccustomed gentleness but a moment or two later, when
the name of the Albino happened to occur, the look that accompanied the
utterance of it was almost diabolical in its malignity. Wrecked though
he was, it would have been an ill moment for the dwarf had he ventured
within the reach of those muscular brown hands.
One subject I was surprised to hear him touch upon, and that was his
dismissal from the service of a London bank on a suspicion of forgery.
This charge he contended, with considerable earnestness, was altogether
false. He was innocent; some one else had committed the crime, and had
saddled it upon him, convinced that his reckless conduct, bad
reputation, and proverbial want of money would supply sufficient motives
for the deed.
"Ramsay," he asserted vigorously, "it was just that false accusation
which sent me to the devil. I was on the brink before, but that fairly
toppled me over. And, as God is my witness, whatever sins I have
committed since that time must be laid to the charge of that real thief,
whoever he may have been."
"How did you manage to get out of it?" I asked.
"Simply because my uncle, Sir Benjamin Plowden--a pious, New Jerusalem
patriarch of East India Avenue--not caring to have the family name
figuring in the police reports, took the matter in hand, and used his
influence to square it."
"Sir Benjamin Plowden!" I gasped. "You don't mean to tell me Sir
Benjamin is your uncle?"
"He was my father's brother. My real name is Plowden. But, good
gracious, man, you don't surely know him?"
"Know him! Why, I should rather think I do! Wasn't I in his office for
years? And wasn't I engaged to his daughter Maud until I was blackguard
enough to think her false to me?"
Veneda was silent. After a while he said, as I thought, rather sadly--
"What a rat-trap of a world it is, after all! Ramsay, this is too much
of a coincidence; there's fatality in it. Fate must have willed that we
should meet!... And so you were engaged to little Maud! By Jove! how
well I remember her--a tiny slip of a thing in a white frock, tied up
with blue ribbons. She came into her father's study one day when I was
waiting for him, pretended she came for a book, but I believe myself it
was just to steal a look at wicked Cousin Marmaduke, whom the women-folk
had piously permitted to figure in her mind as a sort of cross between
Giant Blunderbore and the devil. Perhaps Cousin Satan was not quite so
ugly as she had expected him to be, for when Sir Benjamin entered later,
he found us seated side by side on the hearthrug, making paper boats. I
can see his face now! And so--she's a grown woman!--and I--well, I'm
just a derelict on the ocean of life, useless to myself, and harmful to
my fellow-men. But there, I can't complain; I've made my bed, and I
suppose I must lie on it. Ramsay, shall I tell you what I was going to
do if I had reached home?"
"What?"
"I should have been a rich man, remember. And I had figured it that I
would purchase an estate in a county where nobody would know my past,
marry some nice quiet English girl, and settle down to bring up my
children, if I had any, to be as honest as their father was crooked, to
do good to my neighbours, and when I went down to my grave, to have
lived so that somebody should be able to say, 'There's an English
gentleman gone to his rest!' An English gentleman, mark you, and there's
no prouder title under the sun than that. As it is, I shall peg out
here, cut off from all who knew me, and--as somebody has it--going into
my grave 'unwept, unhonoured, and unsung!' A grand end, isn't it?"
Not knowing how to comfort him, I held my tongue. He continued--
"Somehow I've been an outcast all my life, and I shall certainly die
one. After my first slip I was never given a chance, but was badgered
from pillar to post, until I was driven out of England, the victim of
what we may call uncivilized Christianity. It was rough on me, deuced
rough."
After this our conversation dropped off bit by bit, till it ceased
altogether. I made him as comfortable as I could, and then sought my own
couch on the other side of the fire. Hours passed before sleep came to
me, my brain was full of the thoughts his words had conjured up.
Strangely enough, it was not of Juanita I had thought within the last
few days. She seemed almost to have passed out of my life. It was on
another and a purer love I pondered. "Oh, Maud, Maud, my own lost love,"
I moaned, "if only I could live those fatal days again!" But it was
impossible. Like Dryden, I must cry henceforth--
"Not heaven itself upon the past has power;
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour."
Next morning I discovered that Veneda had not slept at all. It needed
but little medical knowledge to tell that his condition was worse than
on the previous night. His face was fast losing even the faint colour it
had hitherto possessed. His forehead was covered with a clammy sweat,
and at times he moaned softly and wandered in his talk. I was more
distressed about him than I can say. But what could I do? To carry him
elsewhere in search of help would have been useless, had it even been
possible; besides, it would only have hastened his death to have moved
him. In addition to this, I found the Malay had taken advantage of the
opportunity to clear out, and his boat was already a dim speck upon the
horizon. There was nothing for it but to make Veneda as comfortable as I
could, and to patiently await the end.
In his moments of consciousness I think he must have been aware that he
had not much longer to live; indeed, he hinted as much to me when I
asked if I could do anything to relieve his pain. His patience was
marvellous. He uttered no sign of complaint, but met his fate with a
fortitude that was inexpressibly touching.
Towards the middle of the morning I struggled up the hill to scour the
offing for a sail. But no sign of a ship was to be seen, only the blue
expanse of water, other islands peeping up to right and left of us, and
the dim outline of the Sumatra coast away to the westward. Round my head
white sea-gulls wheeled with discordant cries, while from the farther
side of the island the boom of surf sounded like mimic thunder. What
would I not have given for a sail, or anything that could have brought
relief to my dying companion! But it was no use wishing, so as soon as I
had satisfied myself that no assistance was forthcoming, I descended to
the plateau and anxiously approached Veneda.
I found him in an excited condition, his face flushed and his eyes
brighter than when I had left him half an hour before. He was talking in
the wildest fashion, and at the same time endeavoring to raise himself
from the ground.
Hastening to his side, I tried by every means in my power to soothe him,
but it was useless. He imagined himself back in Chili, and for some time
his utterances were in the Spanish tongue. For nearly two hours he
remained in this state, eventually falling into a heavy sleep which
lasted until about three o'clock. When he awoke his delirium had left
him, but he was much weaker; his voice, when he tried to speak, was
hardly louder than a whisper. I could see that the end was only a matter
of a short time now.
"Ramsay," he managed to say, "I know all about it; I'm down and done
for. It seems like a joke, old man, but Marcos Veneda's played out."
As he mentioned his assumed name a faint but bitter smile flickered
across his face. I knelt by his side, and, thinking it might afford him
relief, raised his head, but he bade me let it lie.
"I shan't be able to talk much longer," he said, and his voice was even
weaker than before. "Feel round my neck; you'll find a locket there--the
famous locket--take it off."
I did so, placing it in his hand.
"You've been very good to me, Ramsay, one of the only men in the world
who ever was, and in return I want to do something for you. Take this
locket, it's all I have to leave you, but, as the others knew, it's the
key to my fortune. It will make you a rich man."
He paused to regain his strength.
"As soon as you get away from here work your way home to London. And
when you have been there a month--_swear you will not do so before_, I
have the best of reasons for asking it--open it."
I swore that I would respect his wishes, and he continued--
"You will find in the locket a small slip of paper on which is written a
name and address. Go to the address, show the paper just as you have it
there, and demand from the man Two Hundred Thousand Pounds. When he sees
that slip of paper in your possession he will pay it without demur. And
may you be as happy with the money as I intended to be. Above all things
steer clear of John Macklin, for if he dreams that you have the locket
he'll stick at nothing to get it from you."
"But is there nothing I can do for you?" I asked, thinking he might
like to send some message to the old land he appeared to love so well.
He only shook his head sadly, intimating that there was no one there who
would be either glad or sorry for his death.
After this for a long while he remained silent, till I began to think
that perhaps the end had come. At last, without opening his eyes, he
said slowly--
"Little Maud--she was the only one of that set who ever trusted me.
Somehow I'd like her to have a share of that money. Ramsay, I know you
love her still; you must marry her after all."
"It's too late," I groaned; "too late."
"No, no, I have a conviction that you will win her yet. Try. Swear you
will!"