by Guy Boothby
CHAPTER V.
RAMSAY MEETS OLD FRIENDS.
When I came to my senses, my first impression was that I was still uponthe island. This notion was perhaps strengthened in my mind by acontinuous grinding noise (proceeding from the engine-room, I discoveredlater), which, I must own, somewhat resembled the distant roar of thesurf upon the beach. When, however, I looked about me, it was not uponthe timber-clad hill, or the long sandy foreshore of the island that myeyes alighted, but on the confined space of a ship's cabin. It containedone bunk, a narrow sort of sofa, somewhat like the contrivance one seesin the first-class state-rooms of the great mail-boats; a miniaturechest of drawers and desk combined, on the top of which, beneath anumber of photographs, pipes, and cheap knick-knacks, stood a variety ofsombre-looking account-books; a curtained recess for hanging clothes,and a well-contrived washstand.
Then, in a flash, the remembrance of my rescue by the yacht came back tome, and I had just recalled the circumstance of my wading out to herboat, when the door opened and two men entered. The first was adignified, grey-haired man, possessed of a handsome, aristocratic face;the second was rather smaller, with a bright, rosy little countenance,eyes that bespoke him a humourist, and a general air that said asplainly as words could have done that he was an Irishman. There wasstill a third behind them, the steward, whose cabin I was thenoccupying; but he, either from motives of delicacy, or because heimagined the cabin to be already sufficiently crowded, remained in thealley-way. The Irishman opened the conversation.
"Sir Richard," he began, as soon as he saw that I was awake, "you'velost your money, he's himself again. Now, my man, how are you, eh?"
I answered that I felt almost well, but that I would be grateful if hewould inform me what boat I was on, and to whom I was indebted for myrescue. Perhaps something in my voice told him that I was not anordinary foremast hand, for he immediately adopted a different tone, andafter feeling my pulse, said--
"You're undoubtedly much stronger than when you were talking nonsenseabout Albinos, and digging up dead men, yesterday. Where are you? Why,on board the _Esmeralda_, Sir Richard Tremorden's yacht, to whom you areindebted for the civility of saving your life. Let me introduce you toSir Richard."
I turned to Sir Richard and tried to thank him, but he would not hear ofit.
"Not at all, Mr.----" Here he paused for me to give him my name.
"Ramsay," I said.
"Not at all, Mr. Ramsay. I am very thankful that I was in a position todo so. It was quite by chance that we sighted the island, as our realcourse lay a good deal to the eastward. Forgive my curiosity, but youmust remember you're a mystery, and we're all suffering from an attackof impatience to know how you got there."
I was going to begin my story, but Dr. Sullivan--for such I afterwardsdiscovered the little medico's name to be--would not permit it.
"No, no, Sir Richard, not just now. I must really exercise a doctor'sauthority, and forbid you to worry him with any questions until he'sstronger; besides, ye're doing the ladies, God bless 'em, an injustice,by trespassing on their rights. They'll be wanting to cross-examine Mr.Ramsay for themselves."
"As you please, doctor," Sir Richard said, with a laugh. "You're incommand down here, of course. Williams!"
The man in the alley-way answered, "Yes, Sir Richard?"
"Mind you take good care that Mr. Ramsay has everything he wants." Thenturning to me, "Now, I must return to the deck to tell the ladies howyou are. I hope, when you feel stronger, you'll give us the pleasure ofyour company."
Shaking me by the hand, he bade me good-bye, and went out, leaving me tothe doctor, who thereupon began his medical examination, interspersingit with many good-natured sallies. From him I learnt that Sir RichardTremorden was returning from a yachting trip to Japan, _via_ Borneo andJava, to Singapore. The yacht was full of his friends, and it was onlyjust by chance that he, the doctor, had been able to make one of theparty. Furthermore, it was Lady Tremorden who first caught sight of mysignal, and it was a strange coincidence that she it was who hadproposed leaving their course to take a look at the island.
While we were talking, the steward brought me a large cup of beef-tea,and after he had helped me to sit up to it, the kindly little medicowithdrew, having elicited all the information he could, concerningmyself and my profession, for the information of the ladies on deck.When I was alone, I found myself face to face with a situation I had notbefore contemplated. How was I to account for my presence on the islandwithout introducing the subject of our escape from Batavia? I thoughtand thought, but without telling a downright untruth I could see no wayout of it. At last, after a deal of earnest consideration, I determined,if asked, to say that, having nothing to do for a while, I hadaccompanied a Malay on a sailing-trip. We touched at the island, andwhile I was ashore he cleared out and left me. This was the only courseI could see. I had my own reasons for saying nothing about Veneda.
After lunch, dressed in a white duck suit of Sir Richard's, and havingremoved from my face the fortnight's beard that covered it, I went ondeck, and was presented in proper form to the ladies, who, you may besure, were all on the _qui vive_ to hear my story. This, as soon as Icould, I told them, and I must own that I blushed to hear their vigorousdenunciations of the treacherous Malay. Lady Tremorden was particularlygracious, and to her I hastened to express my deep debt of gratitude.
When I look back upon the strange experiences of that year, I alwaysthink of that short voyage on board the _Esmeralda_ as one of the fewparts of it I should care to undergo again. I said as much to SirRichard the other day, when I met him in London at a certain club ofwhich we are both members. He laughed and answered--
"You were as good as a tonic to us, we had had no sensation since one ofthe hands fell overboard in Nagasaki."
Early next morning we reached Singapore, where I was to bid my kindfriends "farewell." Before I left the yacht, Sir Richard invited me tohis cabin, and in a real spirit of friendliness asked me how I stoodwith regard to money, offering to become my banker if I should requireanything to help me along. But as I still possessed a fair amount of theAlbino's loan, this kind offer I was able to decline, though of course Iwas none the less grateful to the generous thought which prompted it.
By nightfall the yacht had coaled, and proceeded on her way to Saigon,and, nothing else offering, I had signed myself on the _Turkish Pacha_,to work my way home before the mast.
She was a powerful old Ocean Tramp, homeward bound from Hong Kong.Strangely enough, to show how small the world is, it happened that hersecond officer was none other than young Belton, who was third mate ofthe _Beretania_ when I was chief officer. I suppose I must have lookedvery much the same as the other fo'c'sle hands, for though we were oftenthrown together, we were off the South Foreland before he recognized me.Then, up to a certain point, and with numberless reservations that quitealtered the face of it, I told him my story. I don't suppose he believedit for an instant; doubtless he thought me a wonderful liar, and put itall down as the result of a liking for strong waters. But I must do himthe justice to admit, that when we were paid off he proffered me a loan,my non-acceptance of which must have puzzled him considerably.
The time was now coming for me to ascertain what truth there was in thestory Veneda had told me of his fortune. But as I had passed my word tohim not to open the locket within a month of my arrival in London, I hadto look about me for a place to stay in until that time should expire.Having sufficient money to keep me for at least six weeks in comparativecomfort, I resolved to put up at a quiet place I knew of, near the EastIndia Docks, until the end of that period, and then to open the locketand try my success.
Somehow or other, though I had been assured by Veneda of its worth,though I wore it round my neck as a tangible proof of its reality, andhad been warned of the attempts that would in all probability be made toobtain possession of it, I was not altogether a believer in thelikelihood of its doing very much for me. I had been devoid of luck solong that I began to believe no more
could ever come my way. So, allthings considered, I should not have been overwhelmed with astonishment,had I on opening it discovered the information it contained to beentirely valueless.
I cannot tell you how strange it seemed to me to be back again in Londonafter so long an absence, and how bitterly I felt the loss of the poorold mother's kindly welcome. As to Maud, my gentle Maud, of whom I hadbeen thinking more than was good for me of late, was it any use to thinkof her? Had I forfeited all right to her regard? So constantly was shein my mind that I remember one night, under cover of darkness, stealingdown to Holland Park just to take one glimpse at the old place where shehad lived, and where once I had been so happy.
It was a wet, miserable evening; a piercing wind shrieked along thedismal streets and moaned round the corners, chilling to the marrow thebones of one accustomed to the warmth and brightness of those sunnySouthern seas. Leaving my omnibus in the Uxbridge Road, I walked up aside street to the house. There it stood, solid and respectable as Iremembered it. No changes had been made in its exterior, everything wasexactly as when I saw it last, even to the peculiar scrimpiness aboutthe piece of privet hedge beside the gate. A light was burning in anup-stair window, but otherwise the house was dark and silent as thegrave. I stood and looked, the tears rising in my eyes as I did so;then, heaving a sigh for the sake of "auld lang syne," and all thatmight have been, I turned and went sorrowfully away.
And now I am brought to the relation of an incident which was to have agreat and awful bearing on my future. One wet morning, I had justalighted from a 'bus in Oxford Street, a little below the HolbornRestaurant, and was half-way across the street, when a hansom whiskedpast me, so close that the horse's nose brushed my sleeve. The drivercalled to me to stand clear, and, expecting an accident, the fare threwopen the apron and half stepped out. _To my amazement he was none otherthan the Albino._ There could be no mistake about it; I knew him in aninstant. My astonishment was so great that I stopped in the middle ofthe road, and once more came near being run over.
On recovering myself my first impulse was to hail a hansom and makeafter him, but on second thoughts I saw the folly of such a proceeding.My one endeavour must rather be to keep out of his way. Whether herecognized me or not I could not of course tell, but we were so close toone another that it was most unlikely that he could have failed to doso. But then, I told myself, even if he did, what could it matter? Hewould never suspect me of being the possessor of the locket, for howshould he know that I had escaped with Veneda from Batavia? Still, untilI knew whether the secret the locket contained was of any value, itwould be folly to run the risk of losing it. How well I guarded it thesequel will show.
Having little if any money to spend in what is called "knocking abouttown," I did not go out very much of an evening. When I did, my chiefamusement was the theatre, to which I treated myself on an average abouttwice a week. After the performance it was my custom on the way home todrop into a small hostelry called the "Rose and Crown" for a night-cap.One evening (I had been to the Lyceum, I think) I went in and called formy usual refreshment. The bar was crowded, and among the visitors was aman who seemed to take a particular interest in myself. He came up to meand invited me to take a glass with him. Upon my offering some excuse hetried by every means in his power to ingratiate himself with me. But Idid not like his look, and resolved, if I saw anything more of himthere, to transfer my patronage from the "Rose and Crown" elsewhere.
A few nights later I was annoyed at finding him there again, this timeevidently awaiting my coming. As soon as I entered he advanced upon me,and asked why I had refused to drink with him on the previous occasion,demanding if I had any objection to his company? It would have been theeasiest thing in the world for me to have knocked him down, but I didnot want to make a row, so I resolved if possible not to lose my temperwith him. As soon as he found I was prepared to listen to what he had tosay, he entered upon a long rambling statement as to what he would havedone had I insulted him again, winding up by inserting his hand insidemy collar, and at the same time tugging violently at the chain whichheld the locket round my neck. I was so surprised by his impudence thatfor a second or two I let him pull, then, divining his intention, Iimmediately knocked him down.
His fall raised a hubbub, but as soon as I could I explained matters tothe landlord, who, knowing me for a regular customer, was the moredisposed to overlook such a trifling indiscretion as knocking a strangerdown in his bar. When I left the house I hastened home, reflecting withconsiderable gratitude (seeing the aspect affairs were beginning toassume) that another ten days would give me the right to open the locketand decide its secret.
That the man was an emissary of the Albino's, employed to find out if byany chance I had the locket, I did not for a moment doubt. The wholething was as clear as daylight. Macklin had discovered Veneda'swhereabouts, and our escape together. Of course he could not knowanything of the other's death, but meeting me in London he must havethought it worth his while to make sure that I was not the possessor ofwhat he was so anxious to obtain. Now the man would be able to informhim definitely that I _had_ got it, and things would be pretty certainto come to a crisis. I resolved to be more careful than ever.
On the Saturday following the events just described, I was not verywell, a feeling of intense depression had seized me, and in order to tryand raise my spirits I went to the Empire Music Hall. While mixed up inthe crowd leaving it I felt my arm clutched. Imagine my amazement onturning at finding myself confronted by _no less a person than Juanita_!She was dressed entirely in black, and though thinner than when we hadparted, still looked surpassingly beautiful. Without a word she slippedher arm through mine and drew me from the building. When we reached thestreet, she said--
"My Jack, how I have longed for this day! Oh, the joy of seeing youagain!"
I was about to venture some remonstrance, but she would not hear meuntil we had left the square, and were pacing down a side street.
"What joy this is for me!" she said, as we walked along. "Never did Ithink on that dreadful morning in Batavia that we two would meet again."
"It isn't your fault that we have," I said bitterly, remembering hertreachery. "It wasn't your fault that your evidence didn't bring me tothe gallows."
"Oh, Jack, you would not be so cruel as to blame me for that?" shecried. "I could not help myself. If I had not given the evidence I did,I should not have left Batavia alive."
"What do you mean?" I asked, astonished.
"Macklin," she hissed, and her eyes glowed with a sudden fury as herlips dwelt upon his name. "I was his slave, body and soul. I dared notdo anything but his will. Oh, Jack, forgive me, forgive me, for I havebeen so unhappy."
But though she pleaded in this fashion, I was not to be hoodwinked. Ihad tasted her treachery before, how was I to know that she was notfooling me now? I told her as much, whereupon she withdrew her arm frommine, and made as if she would leave me. Her voice, when she spoke, hada certain pride in it, which I could not understand.
"Say no more; it was foolish of me to have stopped you. I thought, whenI saw your face, there might be some little pity for my loneliness. Iwas mistaken. Good-bye Jack, good-bye."
She held out her little hand to me as though she would leave me thereand then, and looking into her eyes--we were just beneath a gas-lamp--Isaw that she was crying.
Now, never in my life have I been able to stand the sight of a woman'stears. Crocodile tears though they often are, they have an effect on mewhich is more than peculiar. I began at once to reproach myself forhaving been so blunt with her, and was more and more inclined to placecredence in her assertion that she was only led to act as she had doneby the influence of the Albino.
"Forgive me, Juanita," I said. "I spoke roughly to you, but it was onlynatural under the circumstances. I believe what you say, and regret thatI should have given you additional pain. Where are you staying now?"
She gave me her address and I asked if she would allow me to take herhome. She consented, and as it was too
far to walk, I called a hansom.Placing her in it, I seated myself beside her, and we rattled off. Aswe went her spirits began to revive. She recalled our voyage in theschooner, our love-making in Thursday Island, and many other littlecircumstances connected with our mutual past.
At length, after passing down a long overgrown thoroughfare, the cabpulled up before a house. She got out and opened the front door while Ipaid the cabman. Then we went up-stairs together to her sitting-room.Once there, her light-hearted manner left her altogether.
"Jack," she began sadly, "I know it is all over between us, but can youfind it in your heart to say you forgive me?"
"Quite, Juanita. Badly as you have treated me, I forgive youeverything."
"And you believe, Jack, that whatever I may have done, I loved youonce?"
"Yes, I honestly believe that you did love me. But, Juanita, will youlet me ask you one question?"
"A hundred if you like, Jack; for this will be our last meeting. Afterto-night we shall never see each other again."
"What do you mean?"
"That I am going away,--never mind where,--away from England. Now, whatis it you wish to ask me?"
"First, why did you want that money?"
"Oh, Jack, that is a long story, and a sad one. But I will tell you.Once I was poor,--oh, so poor! And to keep myself from starving I soldmy honour. A little son was born to me--born in sin and shame. I lovedhim more than all the world, but knowing what I was, I dared not imperilhis immortal soul by letting him remain with me. So I gave him into thekeeping of the Good Sisters. But when I did so, I bound myself by agreat oath. In bringing him into the world I had done him a wrong whichI could never repay. Poverty had compelled me to it, so I swore that Iwould never rest until I had collected a certain sum of money, by anymeans, good or bad, to be his property when he should become a man; sothat he should never experience the miserable want which wrought hismother's ruin. This I set myself solemnly to accomplish. For a long timeI could hear of nothing. Then I joined a certain Society and learnt thegame Veneda and the Albino were playing. By chance I discovered Veneda'ssecret, and I threw my lot in with him, determining to steal the locketwhich contained the paper, and by that means obtain the money. How Ifought for it, how he deceived me, and how the Albino tracked us down,you know. There is one thing, perhaps, of which you are not aware."
"What is that?"
"That your presence in London with the locket is known to him. That heis aware of your escape with Veneda, your journey to the island, yourvoyage to Singapore in Sir Richard Tremorden's yacht, and your arrivalin England by the _Turkish Pacha_."
"Good heavens!" I cried, astounded. "How on earth did he learn allthat?"
"How does he get to know of anything? He is the most wonderful manunder the sun, I think, and certainly the wickedest. His agents inBatavia found out your escape from a cab-driver and a boatman. LadyTremorden described your rescue in a letter she contributes to a ladies'newspaper. And he was in the docks when the _Turkish Pacha_ arrived fromSingapore."
I was so overcome with astonishment that I could not reply. Shecontinued--
"Jack, you don't know what escapes you've had. One night you crossed theriver to a house on the Surrey side, didn't you?"
I nodded. I remembered the occasion perfectly. I went over to spend theevening with an acquaintance, but not feeling well, left early.
"Well, that night, by his orders, three men waited two hours for you onWestminster Bridge. Somehow they must have missed you. Had they caughtyou, you would most certainly have lost the locket, and probably yourlife. One night you went to supper on board the _Prince of Tartary_,lying off Blackwall?"
I nodded again.
"Those three men followed you. You slept on board, or they would havehad that locket and thrown your body into the stream."
"But, Juanita, this is simply murder."
"Jack, you may not believe what I am going to tell you, but it isnevertheless true. I have quarrelled hopelessly with Macklin, and I'mhiding from his anger now."
"Why did you quarrel with him, Juanita?"
"Because he wanted me to help him in another scheme to murder you. Irefused, and he attempted my life. He is hunting for me everywhere,thinking I shall communicate with you."
"But, Juanita, if you still want that money for your child, and youdidn't spare me before, why do you do so now?"
Big tears rose in her eyes, and her voice trembled as she replied--
"Jack, my child is dead. And think, he died on the day that I betrayedyou in Batavia. It was the judgment of heaven on my sin. Had he lived, Ishould have betrayed you again. But now that I know he is dead, I willnot side with that man against you. But you must be careful. If you havethe precious paper, why don't you go to the place, and get the money atonce?"
"Because I can't. I have sworn not to open the locket until I have beena month in England. The time expires in three days, then I shall do so.But, Juanita, you must leave London at once, you are not safe here. Gointo the country, and in a week I will send you money enough to enableyou to get out of England. You must let me help you in return for whatyou've done for me."
"Ah! you don't know," she answered sadly. "Now my little one is gone, mylife seems over; I am tired of the battle. I would rather die ... Jack,if possible I should like to give my life to save yours, to show whatthe worth of my love really is. Perhaps you would sometimes think kindlyof me then."
"I shall never think otherwise. Believe me, there is only kindness in myheart towards you."
"Yes! Only kindness. Your love is dead. Jack, some day you will marry agood woman. Don't let her believe me to have been altogether bad."
"Don't you know me better than that, Juanita?"
"But now that the Albino----"
"Well?"
We both sprang to our feet, and turned in the direction of the voice._The Albino stood before us smiling sweetly!_
"And what of the Albino, my dear Juanita? You see, he appears to answerfor himself. But there, don't let's talk of him. This is indeed apleasant surprise. Quite like old times, I declare. John Ramsay, howd'you do?"
"You little devil!" I cried. "How did you get in here?"
"By the front door, my dear boy,--how else? The door has not been builtyet that could keep John Macklin out. But you don't seem pleased to seeme."
"I should be delighted if I thought I should never set eyes on youagain. I've come to the bottom of a good many of your tricks, and I've agood mind to wring your neck, you murderous little reptile."
"That's nonsense, arrant nonsense. But let's get to business. Look here,John Ramsay, you're very smart, but I'm smarter. I want that locketVeneda gave you. I must have it sooner or later, so you may as wellhand it over now. Give it to me, and I'll give you a cheque for athousand pounds. Could anything be fairer?"
"I wouldn't give it you for two hundred times that amount."
"You're a fool, a madman! You're bringing about your own ruin. You'vegot it on you now--give it to me, or I swear you don't leave this housealive. You can't escape; I've got men in the street, and I'm armed, sohand it over."
My temper, never too good at the best of times, here deserted mealtogether. Picking up the poker, I made a dash at him. Quick aslightning he whipped a revolver from his pocket and covered me. Seeinghim about to pull the trigger, I came to a halt. Before I knew what hadhappened, Juanita had thrown herself between us. He fired. Juanita gavea little cry and fell at my feet. Mad with rage, I sprang over her bodytowards him. He fired again. I felt a stab as if a red-hotknitting-needle had been run through me, and became unconscious.
* * * * *
When my senses came back to me, I was in the Charing Cross Hospital,more dead than alive. The bullet which had brought me down had beenextracted, and the police were anxiously waiting to examine me as to thereason of it all. One thing was very certain; the Albino had achievedhis purpose, _for the precious locket, the cause of all the trouble, wasgone_.
