Kitabı oku: «Tom Wallis: A Tale of the South Seas», sayfa 9

'I did not mean to hurt or offend you, Mr. Harvey. And I know that you are neither a brute nor a bully.'

The second mate placed his hand on Tom's shoulder.

'I'm glad to hear you say that, Tom, and I wish it was true. But I was brought up in a rough school-in the fo'c'sle of a New Bedford whaler-and I guess I've been getting more and more of a brute and a basher every day of my life. My father was an Irishman and a Roman Catholic, but didn't care a cuss for the priest; my mother was not only an Irishwoman and a holy Roman, but a bigoted one as well, and taught me from the very first to hate and despise the Protestants; and I hated and despised them profusely until I went to sea in the whaler, and found out that a Protestant was just as good a sailor-man as any holy Roman. But I was going to tell you about those pictures.'

He laughed again, and his usually gloomy face was so lit up, that Tom could not help smiling in anticipation.

'These good, gentle priests,' continued Harvey, 'hate Englishmen and Americans like poison; they cause more bloodshed and misery by their lies- There, that's all. I'm off on deck for a smoke before supper.'

Just after supper was over Maori Bill suggested to Tom that they should ask the captain to let them have one of the whaleboats, and go fishing out in the deep water of the harbour. Tom at once went to Hayes, who was pacing the main deck, talking to the old trader.

'Certainly,' he answered. 'I'd come with you myself, but Ned and I are talking about business. Take a couple of hands with you, and bring back a load of fish. You'll get some hundred-pounder groper, and red rock-cod here. Oh, Bill is going with you, is he? Tell him I want to see him for a minute or two first.'

In a few minutes Tom had his fishing-gear ready; the boat with two hands was brought alongside, and Maori Bill, carrying a basket of young coco-nuts in his hand, came up to the captain.

'Mr. Wallis told me you wanted to speak to me, sir.'

'Yes, Bill, I do. It is only'-and here Hayes spoke in his sauvest tones-'it is only to say that you have done your duty as second mate to my satisfaction. But as Mr. Kelly is now well again, and I have no need for you on board, I am going to leave you here as a trader in place of old Ned, who wants to make a trip to Samoa.'

The big half-caste placed his basket on the deck, and looked at Hayes steadily.

'I don't want a trader's berth, Captain Hayes. I came aboard here to look after young Mr. Wallis, and do second mate's duty, until Mr. Kelly was better. That was the agreement you made with Captain Hawkins.'

Hayes's face flushed deeply. 'Man! do you know who you are talking to?'

'Yes, sir, to you. And I'm willing to go for'ard and do my duty as a seaman if you ask me, but I'm not going to take a trader's berth ashore to please you or anybody else. My father was a white man-as good as you. I mean no disrespect to you, sir. But I'm not a Chileno or a Dutchman, and won't be hazed by any man on God's earth!'

For a moment or so Hayes regarded the half-caste steadily, then he said quietly-

'You're a bit of a fighting man, aren't you?'

'Yes, sir. But that has nothing to do with my going ashore here.'

'Put up your hands, you half-bred nigger!' and Hayes strode up to Maori Bill with blazing eyes. 'I'll pound the life out of you in two minutes!'

'No, you won't, captain!' and Kelly, the chief mate, sprang in front of him, and put the muzzle of a Colt's revolver against Maori Bill's chest. 'We can't afford to hev no trouble.'

In an instant the Maori seized the weapon by the barrel, wrenched it from Kelly's hand, and threw it overboard, then lifting the mate up in his arms, he dashed him down upon the deck, where he lay stunned.

The second mate and carpenter both made a rush at the half-caste, but Hayes was before them.

'Keep back, Harvey! keep back, carpenter! Let me deal with him. Now, Mr. Maori Bill, I'll teach you a lesson that will last you for a month of Sundays!' and launching out his left hand with lightning-like rapidity, he seized the Maori by the throat, and in a moment the two men were struggling madly on the deck.

But the half-caste, whose herculean stature and prodigious strength made him a match for Hayes, quickly freed himself from the captain's grip, and then dealt him such a smashing blow over the temple with his right hand, that Hayes staggered, and would have fallen but for Mr. Harvey. The Maori stepped back and waited, his dark face pale with fury, and his teeth set hard.

'That's a bit of a staggerer,' said Hayes, quietly, as he put his handkerchief to his face. 'You're a good man, Mr. Maori Bill; but wait a minute.'

The half-caste folded his arms across his chest. 'I do not want to fight you, Captain Hayes, although you have called me a half-bred nigger. But the white blood in me is as good as yours, and the mate put a pistol to my chest. Let me alone-this sort of work don't suit me.'

'But it shall suit you! I'll pound you first, Bill, then I'll make you useful. You've as good as killed Mr. Kelly, and maybe I'll want you as second mate again. Stand back there, Mr. Harvey.'

'Stand back yourself, sir!' cried the Maori, passionately. 'I am a dangerous man. If I hit you again I will kill you!'

Hayes laughed contemptuously, and in another instant the two were at it again, fighting with such silent ferocity that even the savage natives surrounding them drew back in terror. But Hayes was at a disadvantage, for he could scarcely see; and presently the Maori struck him a terrific blow on the chin, which sent him reeling across the deck, and ended the fight. And then two or three Chilenos and the carpenter sprang upon the half-caste and bore him down, some of them striking him repeatedly in the face. But once again he freed himself, rose to his feet, and sent one of his Chileno assailants down with a broken jaw; then Harvey dealt him a fearful blow on the top of his head with an iron belaying-pin, and stunned him.

'Ah! you coward!' and Tom sprang at the second mate with clenched hands. 'You coward, Mr. Harvey! You have killed him!' and then he knelt down and looked into Bill's face.

Harvey laughed sullenly. 'He had to be settled one way or another.'

Ten minutes later, when the half-caste regained consciousness, he found himself in irons in the for'ard deckhouse, and Tom seated beside him, bathing his head with cold water.

'Bill,' said Tom, taking his hand, 'we must leave this ship.'

The Maori turned his bloodshot eyes on Tom for a moment or two.

'I am quite ready to leave her, sir; but I doubt if I can get away now,' and he held up his manacled hands.

'I won't go without you, Bill. And as for the handcuffs, I can set you free at any moment. I know where I can put my hand on half a dozen keys in the cabin. But first I shall tell the captain I am leaving the ship.'

Bill protested vigorously at this suggestion. Hayes, he said, was so unreliable and changeful, that it would be folly to tempt him to another burst of temper. 'I know more of him than you do,' he added; 'he will never forgive me, and will make my life a hell to me unless I bend to him.'

Tom thought a moment. He did not like the idea of leaving the Leonie in a surreptitious manner, but leave her he would, for Hayes's treatment of Maori Bill he regarded as wrong and cruel.

'Very well, Bill,' he said, 'I shall say nothing; but I don't like sneaking away.'

'He won't let you go over the side if you tell him-you'll only rouse all the devil in him again, – and we'll be all right here, Mr. Wallis, on this island, once we get ashore. I speak Samoan well, and these people understand it. We can live here very comfortably until a whaleship or trading schooner comes along.'

The two conversed for a few minutes longer, and agreed to get ashore that night, either swimming or in a chance canoe. Then Tom rose to go aft again, get some supper, and make such preparations as he could, and then return with a key to unlock the handcuffs.

It was now becoming dark, and just as Tom stepped out on to the deck Hayes met him. His head was bound up, and the moment he spoke Tom knew that he was in a white heat of passion.

'What are you doing here?' he demanded hoarsely.

'I was speaking to Mr. Chester, sir.'

Hayes laughed cynically. 'I'll "mister" him, the yellow-hided soldier! Here, boatswain, bring a light, and tell Jules to come here with his green bag.'

A light was produced, and Hayes, attended by the boatswain and the negro Jules, went inside the house. Tom followed, burning with indignation, and determined to prevent the unfortunate Maori from being flogged.

'Take his irons off,' said the captain, speaking in the same low but savage tone he had used when addressing Tom.

The handcuffs were unlocked, the leg-shackles removed, and the prisoner stood up.

'Now, Bill,' said Hayes, 'I'm not going to round on you for hitting me in fair fight, but you've nearly murdered the mate.'

'You can stow all that, sir. I don't believe you.'

The captain apparently did not heed the interruption.

'And now I've come to talk to you a bit. Will you go ashore here and trade for me?'

'No, I won't. I am willing to go to Samoa and do second mate's duty as I did before, but I am not going to be separated from Mr. Wallis. I have my orders from Captain Hawkins.'

'Very well'-and then he gave vent to his suppressed fury-'if you won't do as I want you, I'll give you a flogging, and chuck you over the side to drown, you mutinous Maori dog! Either that, or turn-to again.'

'For my sake, Captain Hayes, think of what you are doing! Surely you won't flog a man because he beat you, as you say yourself, in fair fight? No man would do such a thing.'

The Maori's right hand gripped Tom by the wrist, and he uttered a low warning, 'Sh! Not a word more. I'll fool him.'

Hayes turned furiously upon Tom. 'Away out of this, boy, and do not meddle with matters which do not concern you!'

'But this does concern me, sir?' began Tom, when Bill interrupted him.

'I'll give in, captain. I'll do whatever you want, but I don't like leaving Mr. Wallis. And I'm willing to turn-to again this minute. Come, captain, I'm a good sailor-man.'

Hayes's mood changed instantly. 'Very well, Bill, we won't quarrel. But we'll have another talk in the morning. Perhaps I'll keep you on board. Jules, clear out. What are you hanging about here for? Go aft and tell the steward to get Mr. Chester some supper. Tom, I'm going ashore. Do you care to come?'

'No, thank you,' said Tom, bluntly, 'I'll stay and get some supper too.'

Hayes smiled good-naturedly. 'Oh, well, just as you please. Bill, did I hurt you at all?'

Bill tried to look pleased. 'Nearly broke one of my ribs, sir.'

Half an hour later Hayes, old Ned the trader, and the carpenter were on their way ashore, and Tom and the half-caste were having supper and talking in low, whispered tones.

'He will not be back before midnight,' whispered Bill, 'I heard him say so. We can easily get away. The whaleboat is astern. Get as many things as you can, and put them on the transom here. The mate is in his own bunk, and there is no one to see you. I'll slip overboard at eight o'clock, and bring the boat up under the port. There is a strong breeze, and the night is very dark. We can manage it. I have five English sovereigns. Have you any money?'

Tom nodded. 'Fifteen. Captain Hawkins lent them to me.'

The Maori's hand gripped his shoulder. 'That will do us. Charlie, the white sailor, is on watch aft. Go up to him and give him ten sovereigns; don't say anything-just put them in his hand and come away; he'll most likely come with us. And I'll give the steward another, to go for'ard and keep out of the way.'

An hour after supper the whaleboat, which was lying astern, seemed to drift right up under the stern ports. She remained stationary for a minute or two, then veered away again, and was lost in the darkness, drifting steadily out to sea before the strong trade wind.

But as the lofty spars of the Leonie became indistinct, and the lights of the native houses on shore grew dimmer and dimmer, Maori Bill sprang to his feet with a laugh, and he and Charlie hoisted the sail.

It's all right, Mr. Wallis. We have a rattling good boat, plenty of food and arms, but only a little water. We'll have to get some at Alofi. I know where we can land at daylight and get all we want. And I and Charlie have given Captain Hayes something to do that will keep him from coming after us.'

'What have you done, Bill?'

The Maori grinned at him through the darkness, as he stood at the long steer-oar.

'We've made a couple of holes into the brig, one for'ard and one aft, and it'll take some time to find 'em out. She'll have four feet of water into her before the skipper comes aboard again. And Charlie here gave the hands a gallon of rum to keep 'em amused. I'd have set fire to her only for that.'

'But she may founder, and drown some of the people!' cried Tom.

'Don't be alarmed about that, Mr. Wallis. No one will be drowned. Even if she fills before the holes are discovered, she can't sink, for there's only six or eight feet of water between her keel and the bottom-she'll take the ground nice and easy.'

Then he struck a match and lit his pipe, and as he puffed out the first whiffs of smoke he turned and shook his fist at the vanishing land.

'Good-bye to you, Mr. Bully Hayes. I feel a bit better now than I did an hour ago. I'm even with you, anyway. Mr. Wallis, you lie down and sleep. We shall call you when we are running into the fresh-water river at Alofi.'

'And after, Bill?'

'For Fiji, I think, sir. We can run down there in two days easily. Plenty of ships there, sir, an' we'll be in Australia in another month or two.'

Exhausted and excited with the events of the past few hours, Tom lay down in the stern sheets, and the whaleboat leapt and spun along in the darkness towards the scarcely discernible outline of Alofi Island.

CHAPTER XI
JACK AND HIS FATHER HEAR GOOD NEWS

Nearly eight months had come and gone since the captain of the Bandolier had left Port Kooringa, and in the quaint, old-fashioned dining-room of the house under the bluff Jack and his father were sitting-Mr. Wallis smoking his pipe and thinking, and Jack cleaning his gun. It was nearly sunset, and presently Kate Gorman entered.

'Shall yez have the lamps lit, sor?'

'Yes, Kate; and then bring the little one to say good night. I am expecting my letters presently, and will say good night to her now.'

'Shure, sor, but ould Foster tuk her out on the brow of the hill to see the stheamer comin' in, and he's not brought her back yet. He's a terrible conthrary man, he is, and would sphoil any child.'

Mr. Wallis smiled in his grave way, as he rose and went to the door leading out upon the verandah.

'You are just as bad as he is, Kate. And you, Jack, are worse than either. Between you all Nita is being spoilt.'

'And you, father, are the very worst of all,' said Jack, laying down his gun, and putting his sun-burnt hand on his father's shoulder. 'Why, old Foster knows it as well as Kate and I do.'

As Kate lit the lamp, father and son stepped out on the broad verandah, and paced to and fro together, as they had done almost every evening since Tom had been taken from their life. Much as they had grown to love the dark-eyed child who had come to them at that dreadful time, their thoughts were now, as they had always been, with the memories of the happier past, when Tom was with them, and his merry, boyish tones were sounding in their ears as he disputed with old Foster or argued with faithful Kate.

Just as Wellington, the black stockman, came cantering up to the gate with the letters and papers, old Foster and little Nita Casalle came up from the beach. The old man had taken her down to the wharf to see the William the Fourth come in, and, instead of her usual joyous prattle when she was with Foster, she entered the house silently, and with the traces of tears on her face.

'What is the matter, Nita?' said Jack, bending down and kissing her.

A suppressed sob escaped from her. 'I saw a man, Jack-I saw a man who looked so like my father that I had to cry.'

'Indeed she did, sir,' said Foster to Mr. Wallis. 'He was one of the steerage passengers on board the steamer, and I must say he's mortal like Miss Nita's father.'

Mr. Wallis, who had just looked at his letters, lifted Nita up in his arms.

'Poor little woman! But here's something to dry your tears. Here's another letter from your father. Come inside, Foster; come in, Jack. I have quite a budget of letters here, but we'll read Captain Casalle's first. Nita, you shall stay up an hour later to-night, and hear all about father and the new ship, and the Solomon Islands.'

Returning to the dining-room, Mr. Wallis drew his chair up to the table, and with Nita on one side and Jack on the other, first opened Captain Casalle's letter, without looking at the others. He read the letter aloud, omitting those parts which dealt with business matters. It was written from Levuka, in Fiji, where Casalle had arrived three months previously, after a very prosperous trading voyage among the Solomon Islands. He was delighted with his new vessel, which was a barquentine of 200 tons, called the Malolo. 'She is,' he wrote, 'the fastest vessel of her size in the South Seas, and even Bully Hayes's Leonie, of which I have often told you, could not catch her. Speaking about Hayes, I have just heard from Captain Harding, the master of a trading schooner, the Lilla, which has just arrived here from Samoa, that the redoubtable Bully nearly lost his ship a few months ago coming from New Britain, when his cargo of blackbirds nearly captured her. There was some terrible fighting, and about a hundred of the natives were killed, as well as some of Hayes's people. During the fighting she also took or was set on fire, and only for another vessel (said to be a Sydney brig) coming to her assistance, the niggers would have massacred every one of the crew. After this Hayes touched at Fotuna Island for provisions, and while there fell foul of one of his officers, a New Zealand half-caste, who seems to have been lent to him by the captain of the Sydney brig, and was about to flog him; but in the night this man, with a white sailor, and a young lad who was a passenger (on the Leonie, I suppose) escaped in one of the boats, after scuttling the brig in two places. Bully had, I believe, a very tough time to keep her afloat. However, he managed to get away all right, and the Lilla met him thrashing through the straits between Upolu and Savaii in gallant style. He sent a boat aboard the Lilla to inquire what ships were in Apia Harbour, and it was from the officer in charge of the boat that my informant gained these particulars. As soon as Harding told him that the British cruiser Cameleon was at anchor in Apia, the officer hurried back mighty quick to the Leonie, which at once wore, and went scurrying away under the lee of Savaii. I am afraid that poor Bully will find his voyage unprofitable, especially if the cruiser should catch him.'

Jack's eyes sparkled. 'What an exciting bit of sea life, father!' Then he added in a softer tone, 'How poor Tom would have loved to have heard all this!'

The letter went on to say that the Malolo would, after refitting, make another cruise to the Solomons, and load there for Sydney. 'So you see, my dear Wallis,' the writer concluded, 'that, everything going well, I shall see you all in about five months from now, and show you my white-winged Malolo.'

Mr. Wallis looked at the date of the letter; it had been written nearly four months previously.

'Why, Nita, little one, 'tis only another month from now! Jack, my lad, we will all go up to Sydney on this very trip of the William the Fourth. Just write a note to the captain, and find out when he is leaving Port Kooringa.'

Just as Jack was setting about his pleasant task, and his father had placed his hand upon the remaining letters, a knock sounded at the front door.

'Some one from the steamer, most likely, father. Perhaps it is the captain himself.'

Foster came to the door. 'Some one to see you, sir, on most partickler business, so he says. I told him you was busy, but he says he must see you at once, sir.'

'Who is he, Foster?'

Foster placed his hand over his mouth, and looked curiously at Nita. 'It's that person, sir, who I was telling you that Miss Nita mistook for Captain Cashall.'

'Show him in.'

The moment the visitor entered the room, both Mr. Wallis and Jack arose with half-uttered exclamations of astonishment. The face of the man before them certainly bore an extraordinary resemblance to Nita's father. He was dressed in a rough but decent manner, and for a moment or two seemed slightly bewildered.

'Sit down, sir,' said Mr. Wallis, kindly.

But, instead of seating himself, the man came forward and held out his hand.

'Mr. Wallis, I have good-good news for you.' His voice shook a little, then he steadied himself. 'Your son Tom is alive. Have you not had a letter from him?'

'For goodness' sake, man, speak! Tell me all. Where is he?' And Tom's father seized the man by the shoulders, and looked wildly into his face.

'I repeat that he is alive. I last saw him on board a brig named the Lady Alicia at Wreck Reef. Here, sir, is a letter from him which will explain all.' And he gave Mr. Wallis the letter which Tom had written from Wreck Reef.

Seizing the envelope with trembling hand, Tom's father tore it open. There were two enclosures-Tom's own note, and honest old Sam's fancifully worded communication; and as he read them through a sob of joy broke from his bosom, as with streaming eyes he put them into Jack's eager hand. Then restraining himself from further emotion by a strong effort, he tried to speak, but could not frame a word, but there was a whole world of inquiry as he pointed mutely to the letters.

'I will tell you all I know, sir. The letter, as you see, was written from Wreck Reef. I and-and some shipwrecked companions were there, when for some reason the Lady Alicia came in and anchored. The captain told me that many weeks previously he had picked up a lad who was lying all but dead on the beach, but was now recovered. I saw him, sir. He looked well, strong, and happy.'

'Thank God, thank God!' at last burst from Mr. Wallis, as, hardly knowing what he was doing, he wrung the seaman's hand again and again; and then Jack, upsetting the astonished and alarmed Nita, made a spring to the door, and tore through the hall in search of the servants, shouting their names at the top of his voice.

'Foster, Foster, come here! Kate, come here! Where are you all? Where's everybody? Tom is alive! Tom is alive! We've had a letter!' Then back he darted into the dining-room to pick up and hug Nita.

In a moment the house was thrown into the wildest confusion, as the women-servants, the stockmen, who were sitting smoking in the kitchen, old Foster, Wellington, and red-haired Kate, came rushing pell-mell into the dining-room, attended by a dozen or so of barking and yelping kangaroo dogs; the whole lot, dogs and humans, all tumbling over each other in a glorious heap on the carpet, and seriously endangering the house by partially capsizing the lamp.

As soon as he could make himself heard, their master told them the news, and old Foster led off with a cheer; then, by main strength and persuasion combined, he and Kate sent them out again.

'Forgive me, sir,' said Mr. Wallis, as soon as order was restored. 'But you will indeed think me an inhospitable man. Foster-'

Foster was back in a miraculously short time with a tray holding wines and spirits, and Kate, unasked, hurriedly began to lay the dining-table, copiously damping the cloth with her tears, and shaking with joyful excitement as she banged about and misplaced every article.

The stranger, whose quiet eyes were bent in sympathy on Mr. Wallis's face, rose, and took the glass of brandy-and-water which Jack had poured out for him. Mr. Wallis raised his own, and the two men drank to each other in silence. Then, as they resumed their seats, Jack's father, whose face seemed to have grown ten years younger in as many minutes, said-

'You have brought joy and happiness to me and mine, and yet I have not asked your name.'

A swift shadow passed over the visitor's countenance, but he answered quietly-

'I call myself Charles Brown; that is not my real name, which I have only uttered once in the past five years, and that was when I gave it to the master of the brig which rescued your son. But I will not conceal it from you. My name is Henry Casalle.'

Both father and son started.

'Casalle!'

The man smiled bitterly. 'Ah, you know it. Yes, I am Henry Casalle, who, with four other prisoners, escaped from New Caledonia to Wreck Reef. I suppose the police are looking for me?'

In an instant Mr. Wallis was on his feet, closed the door, and turned the key. The man watched him with the utmost calmness.

'You ask me,' said Mr. Wallis in a low voice, 'if I know the name of Casalle.' He placed his hand on the visitor's shoulder. 'I do know it. That little girl there is the daughter of a man who has become a dear friend of mine. His name is Ramon Casalle.'

The stranger's swarthy face paled visibly, and his lips twitched.

'I had a brother Ramon. I have never seen him since we were children together. Where is he?'

'At sea; but he will be in Sydney in a month. He told me he had never seen you since you were a boy of eight.'

The ex-convict passed his hand across his brow, as if trying to recall the past; then looking at the little girl, who was regarding him intently with her lustrous dark eyes, he said almost in a whisper-

'Will she come to me? She is my brother's child, and has our mother's face.'

Jack led Nita over to him. Casalle took her little hand in his for a moment, drew her gently to him, and kissed her. Then he leant back in his chair, and covered his face with his hands.

When he had recovered himself a little, and Jack had taken Nita away to Kate, Mr. Wallis, as clearly and briefly as possible, told him the story of the wreck of the Bandolier, and all that had happened since.

Casalle heard him with the deepest interest to the end, and then told him his own story, beginning with the account of his trial and conviction at Bordeaux, and the horrors of his prison life at Noumea. Here he broke down, and Mr. Wallis placed his kindly hand on his knee.

'Tell me no more, Casalle. It pains you to tell, and me to hear it. That you are an innocent man I believe.'

'As God is above us I am! The captain and I did not get on well together, and one day in a moment of passion I forgot myself under his repeated insults, and threatened his life. He was a gross tyrant, his chief mate almost as bad, and the crew were later on goaded into mutiny. I was asleep in my bunk when both captain and mate were stunned and tossed overboard. The ship was then within sight of the coast of Portugal, and the mutineers, headed by the steward, took to the boats and made for the land, leaving me alone on board. A few hours later I was in irons on a Spanish man-of-war. I was sent to Bordeaux, and the very men whom I had often endeavoured to save from brutal ill-usage swore my life away.'

'Forget it all, Casalle, forget it all, or think of it only as some bad dream. You are safe here with me. To-morrow we will decide what is best to be done.'

In calmer tones the ex-convict then related his adventures and wanderings after leaving Wreck Reef. He and his companions had followed old Sam Hawkins's instructions, and had safely reached the Queensland coast, where they separated, three making for the Port Curtis goldfield, and Casalle and another shipping as seamen on a vessel bound to Port Adelaide, in South Australia. From Adelaide he had steadily worked his way northward again to Sydney, and there made inquiries as to the best way of sending a letter to Port Kooringa. He found that the William the Fourth was leaving in a few days, and decided to bring the letter on to Mr. Wallis himself.

'I swore that you should have the letter safely,' he added, 'and there were no means of sending it to you from Port Curtis.'

'Come, father,' said Jack, 'Kate is waiting to bring in dinner. Then we must go through the papers which have come, and see if there is anything about the Virago, or the Lady Alicia. Perhaps they are both in Sydney Harbour this very moment, dad, and Tom might have only just missed the William the Fourth.'

Such a happy evening had not been spent in the old house for many a long month. Jack, too excited to eat any dinner, set to work on the papers at once, but could find no mention of either Lady Alicia or the Virago, beyond the fact that both were in the list of 'expected arrivals.'

'Never mind, Jack,' said his father cheerfully, 'the latest of those papers is a week old, and Tom is on board one or the other ship. Casalle, my dear fellow, to-night you shall sleep in the room that your brother slept in when he first came to us with little Nita.'