In Strange Company: A Story of Chili and the Southern Seas

by Guy Boothby

  Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (Thisfile was produced from images generously made availableby The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

  In Strange Company

  A STORY OF CHILI AND THE SOUTHERN SEAS

  By Guy Boothby

  AUTHOR OF "Pharos, the Egyptian," "Dr. Nikola's Experiment," etc.

  NEW YORK AND LONDON STREET & SMITH, PUBLISHERS

  Copyright, 1894 and 1896, By F. TENNYSON NEELY.

  Copyright, 1900, By STREET & SMITH

  Dearest Mother, IT IS WITH THE UTMOST LOVE THAT I DEDICATE TO YOU THIS BOOK, THE OUTCOME OF TEN LONG YEARS OF SEPARATION.

  CONTENTS.

  INTRODUCTION BY MR. LUKE SANCTUARY 1 Setting forth how the Book came to be written, and containing a Copy of a most important Letter.

  PART I.

  I. SHOWING WHERE THE MONEY REALLY CAME FROM 13

  II. A STRANGE NIGHT 25

  III. A STRANGER DAY 52

  IV. THE ALBINO IS DISAPPOINTED 66

  V. THE ESCAPE FROM CHILI 72

  VI. THE 'ISLAND QUEEN' 81

  VII. THE MAN'S DEATH 98

  PART II.

  I. JOHN RAMSAY TAKES UP THE TALE 115

  II. A CHEQUERED CAREER 134

  III. SACRED AND PROFANE LOVE 151

  IV. RAMSAY BECOMES A SHIP-OWNER 165

  V. A CURIOUS QUEST 180

  VI. AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR 190

  VII. BATAVIA--A STRANGE MEETING 198

  PART III.

  I. RAMSAY IS RELEASED FROM CUSTODY 216

  II. GAOL-BREAKING EXTRAORDINARY 228

  III. THE ISLAND 243

  IV. RESCUED 257

  V. RAMSAY MEETS OLD FRIENDS 270

  VI. CONCLUSION 288

  IN STRANGE COMPANY.

  INTRODUCTION.

  IN WHICH IS SET FORTH HOW THE BOOK CAME TO BE WRITTEN.

  First and foremost it should be stated how I, Luke Sanctuary, came to beconnected with this most extraordinary and, to say the least of it,mysterious business. For my own part, I do not doubt but that when youhave read a few pages you will have come to the conclusion that,personally, I had no share in its actual making, for I am a man ofpeaceful disposition, as much unaccustomed as I am unfitted to bear ahand in such adventurous concerns; and what is perhaps more to thepoint, one who has never been out of England in the whole course of hisexistence.

  This preliminary having been set forth, and your mind disabused of anyfalse impression, I am brought to the plain matter at issue, namely, thereason of, the facts which led to, and the people who induced my takingup the writing of this book. And as this again--for it seems I am notpermitted to escape it--necessitates the narration of more concerningmyself, let me, if I can be nothing else, be brief.

  To begin with, my name is Luke Sanctuary; I am a bachelor; a man ofregular and studious habits; the possessor of what is vaguely termed acomfortable income; and, as the result of such an income, a house, myfriends tell me, of considerable attractions, situated in that Garden ofall England, the Isle of Wight.

  And truly enough it is, if the two terms be not synonymous, both acomfortable and pleasant home; for while I have endeavoured to make itsinternal accommodation what I imagine a dwelling-house in theseenlightened days should be, its external advantages have not beenunconsidered. From my windows, looking towards the north, I can commandone of the most beautiful and extensive views along the whole length ofthe English coast; while straight before me, and as far as the eye canreach to right and left, stretches Spithead, glittering, as I write, abright sapphire blue, in the warm sunshine of this September morning.Across its placid surface may be seen the forts and mast forest ofPortsmouth, with Gosport on the near, and Southsea dim and distant onthe far side; to all of which the hills of Portsdown form an effectivebackground.

  Of shipping there is no lack: a cruiser of the latest pattern, newlycommissioned, lies at anchor immediately before me; a deep seacable-steamer is in the act of entering the harbour; whiletorpedo-boats, ferry-steamers, colliers, mud-dredgers, yachts, andsuch-like small craft pass to and fro continually, as if for mypeculiar and individual benefit.

  It is a picture of which I never grow weary, and indeed I sometimesfeel, were its attractions not so irresistible, my book, 'The FirstFruits of the Renaissance,' upon which I have been engaged these eightyears past, and which is as yet only in its fifty-second chapter, wouldlong ago have been in print, delighting an appreciative public, or, whatis more likely, cumbering the shelves of our second-hand dealers. Andsurely--for I am in the humour for philosophical reflection--no betterview, or one more suited to the opening of this strange story, couldpossibly be chosen than Spithead on this pleasant autumn morning.

  But it is easier, I find, to talk of beginning than actually to begin,for twice I have dipped my pen in the ink, and twice I have pulled myvirgin foolscap towards me, but somehow I have not yet managed tocommence. Now, however, I will sound the bugles and open the attack.

  But it is of no use! Fate, in the form of a heavy footstep, is on thestairs, and a masculine voice is calling, "Cousin Luke, Cousin Luke,where on earth have you stowed yourself away?"

  The voice is the voice of my sailor cousin by marriage, John Ramsay,who, with his bride, has been my guest this fortnight past. His bellowhas something of the resonance of a fog-horn, and, partly for the safetyof my roof and partly to gratify my own curiosity, I am induced toacquaint him of my whereabouts. Thereupon he rushes impulsively in, forhe will never be aught but a boy in his manners, his face aglow withexcitement, and brandishing a sheet of note-paper in his hand.

  "'Vast working, Cousin Luke," he cries, scattering my MSS. with theviolence of his inrush; "pipe all hands, for here it is, just arrived bypost from Sir Benjamin!"

  "What is here?" I ask, looking up into his handsome sunburnt face with asmile. "What has Sir Benjamin been kind enough to send me? A brace ofpartridges perhaps, or----"

  "A brace of horse-marines!" is the prompt reply, and thereupon mymanuscripts are unceremoniously swept off the table, to make room forthe sheet of note-paper I have mentioned above.

  "Now, Cousin Luke, I'll have to trouble you for the loan of your bestattention," he says, "for here is the mysterious letter of which I toldyou last night; here is the bit of paper which has caused four people toplay hide-and-seek all round the world, occasioned the death of two, anddone its best to kill half-a-dozen others. Oh! my dear departedgrandmother, just fancy that innocent little slip of cream-laid havingonce been worth a couple of hundred thousand pounds!"

  I am supposed to know intuitively to what he refers, for he waves hishand with a commanding gesture, forces me back into my seat, and then,smoothing the letter out, bids me read it aloud for his and my owninformation. This is what
I read, and as upon it depends the whole pointof this book, I beg that you will give it your best attention.

  "_Valparaiso, Chili_, "_8th August, 1891_.

  "TO SIR BENJAMIN PLOWDEN, KNT., ETC., ETC., "EAST INDIA AVENUE, LONDON.

  "My worthy and respected Uncle Benjamin,

  "I beg you will not suppose for an instant that I am unable to imagine with what apprehension and surprise you will receive this letter from one so unworthy as your nephew, written from such a place, and dated at such a serious time. And yet, both the place and the serious time are part and parcel of the reason which induces the communication.

  "To lay my business properly before you, it is necessary that I should carry your memory back, let us say fifteen years, when, after a certain episode which it would become neither of us to recall, you were good enough to show me the front door of England, and the back entrance to the outside world, at the same time enriching me with much good advice, two trenchant sayings from the works of that priggish person Solomon, and last, but by no means least, Five Hundred Pounds sterling.

  "Reflecting that all countries present equal possibilities to the possessor of five hundred pounds in hard cash, I came out here, with the result, that by ceaseless energy and thrift (of the possession of which latter virtue you have hitherto scarcely believed me capable) I have added to the five hundred pounds you advanced me, four hundred similar amounts.

  "In other words, my revered relative, my adventures have prospered beyond my wildest expectations. My silver mines have achieved wonders. As for my Haciendas, by which name these ignorant foreigners denominate such farms as those of which I know you, my uncle, to be the possessor, I managed to dispose of them, prior to this unfortunate Revolution, for considerably more than twice their real value. Therefore, to all intents and purposes, I may be considered what you, in your absurd City jargon, would term a decidedly _warm_ or rich man. So much by way of introduction.

  "Now though I am, both by instinct and training, distrustful and suspicious, yet, strangely enough, I am about to forswear my principles so far as to repose in you, my father's brother, being perfectly assured of your probity and honour, such confidence as one man seldom places in another. In other words, having in my mind the perilous times now upon this unhappy country, I am remitting to your charge by the good ship _Culloden_, advised as leaving here on Thursday of next week, the entire amount of my fortune, amounting to _Two Hundred Thousand Pounds of English money, in specie_, securely packed in accordance with the steam-ship company's regulations, and addressed to you in London. The bill of lading accompanies this present letter, which will be conveyed to and posted in London by Captain Porson of H.M.S. _Chanticleer_, leaving Valparaiso to-morrow morning.

  "That this extraordinary trust will occasion you some little surprise I do not doubt, but from what I know of your character, I feel certain that not only will you accept the charge, but that you will guard my interests as you would your own.

  "Were it not that I consider it my duty to remain in this country until these troubles are overpast, I should certainly come home to guard my fortune personally. But such a thing being, for the present, impossible, I have, I believe, by placing it in your hands, done both what is wisest and best to secure its safety.

  "One earnest piece of advice I would entreat you to remember. For the reason that I am successful, I have made many enemies here, who would not scruple to employ any means, however base, to bring about my ruin. I beg and implore, therefore, that you will pay no attention whatsoever to any person, male or female, who may approach you in my name, either by letter or otherwise, with the following exception.

  "Should it be necessary for me to communicate with you, either personally or by messenger, you will do nothing, listen to no proposals, or even hint that you know anything of my existence or my fortune, until you have in your hand the following authority.

  "Having carefully considered the matter in all its bearings, I have arrived at the conclusion that there is only one thing absolutely and wholly unforgeable and unmatchable within my reach, and that is, _the tear in an ordinary sheet of paper_.

  "To apply this knowledge to my own purposes, I have obtained from a certain source a sample of quite unknown note-paper, and torn it in half in a peculiar manner. One portion I send to you herewith; the other I shall retain in my own keeping, until I desire to communicate with you. It is obviously impossible--no one having seen this paper in my possession--that any third party could so tear another as to match, fibre for fibre, the piece you hold, even could they obtain a similar description of paper, which I happen to know is out of the question.

  "This being so, any person bringing to you a sample of the same water-mark, of the same texture, and, more important still, torn in such a manner as to exactly fit the piece you hold, must either have stolen it from me (which I can confidently promise shall not happen), or be my _bona-fide_ agent. I beg therefore that you will pay to him whatsoever sum, up to the entire amount, he shall ask of you. _But remember, on no consideration shall you pay even so much as one half-penny to any person whomsoever, even one representing himself to be your unworthy nephew, until this duplicate is in your possession._

  "For reasons which would not have the slightest interest for you, I am compelled to act in this mysterious fashion; and such is my absolute trust and confidence in your honour and integrity, that I go so far as to freely absolve you beforehand from any blame whatsoever, should the precautions I have enumerated here miscarry.

  "Believe me, such warnings are not idle; attempts will certainly be made to obtain the money, and after careful consideration, I think I have hit upon the only safe way to guard myself against any such conspiracies.

  "If by any chance no word shall reach you from me within the space of twenty-one years, day for day from this 8th of August, you may regard it as complete evidence of my death, and in that case I bequeath to your children, should you at that time have any living, or failing them to such members of my father's family as may then be alive, the entire amount of my fortune, with all interests and accumulations which may have become added thereto.

  "I am, my uncle,

  "Your obliged and obedient nephew,

  "MARMADUKE PLOWDEN."

  When I reached the signature, Ramsay, who had been listening withunabating interest, hit me a heavy thwack upon the shoulder, at the sametime crying enthusiastically--

  "There, my learned cousin, what is your opinion of that preciousdocument?"

  "I think," said I, with a gravity befitting such an important decision,"that it is the letter of a very unscrupulous, and I should say at thetime he wrote it, very frightened, man."

  "My idea exactly," Ramsay replied. "It is interesting to note how hisimpudence dies out as his letter progresses, and how its place isusurped by a good wholesome fear. One thing more, do you honestlybelieve that that vast sum of money, L200,000, came from the respectablesources to which he alludes--silver mines and farm properties, andsuch-like; all accumulated by his own thrift and industry?"

  "How can I tell? But from what I know of the man, I should be ratherinclined to guess--_not!_"

  "Very good. And now, as we're agreed upon that point, let me ask youwhat recollections, if any, you have of this peculiar relative ofyours?--for relative he certainly is."

  "Of Marmaduke Plowden?"

  "Exactly; _in Chili known as Marcos Veneda_. Surely you must have seenhim often when he was a boy?"

  "Not often, Jack--half-a-dozen times at most; certainly not more. Helived on the other side of the kingdom, you must remember; and thenagain, he was no
t the sort of youth of whom one would be anxious to seevery much."

  "What was he like?"

  I hesitated before replying. The truth was, it was an awkward question,for upon the last occasion of my seeing him, he was sitting in theoffice of my kinsman, the Sir Benjamin Plowden before referred to,looking very frightened and miserable, and wondering how a certaininterview which was being conducted in an adjoining room would end; thatis, whether it would result in his being sent to gaol or abroad. As maybe imagined, under these circumstances, he did not look his best. Butthen that was well-nigh twenty years ago.

  So absorbed was I in recalling these recollections, that I had quiteforgotten my companion's question. He brought me back to my senses witha start.

  "Come, come, Cousin Luke, no day-dreams, if you please; you haven'tanswered my question yet."

  "Well, Jack, as a young man, perhaps I cannot give you any betterdescription of him than to say that he was, without doubt, thehandsomest, and at the same time the most untrustworthy being, with whomI had ever come into contact. As old Darby, our coachman in those days,once put it, 'Young Master Marmaduke's as 'andsome as paint, but lor,there, it's all on top, like bad coach varnish!' In fact, there wassomething about the lad's good looks that repelled rather thanattracted one."

  "How do you mean--a sort of fierceness?"

  "No; a something that was rather crafty than fierce, a something thatbetrayed cruelty as well as cunning. As a school-boy there was nobodymore admired for his beauty or more despised for his moral character."

  "Was he a plucky boy?"

  "To an extraordinary degree, I believe, as far as personal bravery went;but somehow he was always at daggers drawn, not with his school-fellowsalone, but with everybody with whom he came into contact."

  "And when he left school?"

  "As far as I remember he went first into some office in a country town,where he remained for a year; then Sir Benjamin took him in hand, andgot him a situation in a large banking institution in London."

  "And after that?"

  "Commenced his downfall; he fell in with a low set, became a frequenterof second-rate race-courses, an admirer of ballet-girls andobjectionable barmaids; finally, is said to have forged his benefactor'sname, and to have come within an ace of standing in a felon's dock."

  "A nice character truly! And Sir Benjamin honoured the signature?"

  "For the sake of the lad's mother. And then it was, I suppose, that hegave him the L500 referred to in that letter, and shipped him out ofEngland."

  "And, as far as you know, he was never heard of again, until his letterand the L200,000 arrived?"

  "Not to my knowledge; in fact, until you recalled it, I had almostforgotten his existence."

  "Very well then. Now you'll just come for a walk with me, and, as we go,I'll tell you something of Marmaduke Plowden's--otherwise MarcosVeneda's--wonderful career, from the day he left England till I made hisacquaintance, under such peculiar circumstances, six months ago. Thenyou shall take pens, paper, and ink, and write the first half of it.I'll do the last, and together we'll make it into a book for theinformation of the world. Here's a case full of first-class cigars; it'sa perfect day for a tramp; so get your things and come along."

  Resistance being useless, I collected hat and stick and went, and theresult of that walk is the story--strange enough, goodness knows--whichI now place before you.

  PART I.