‘Yes,’ she said softly, raising her eyes again. ‘And now shall we get on with the letters, Sir Thomas. There are still a good many not answered.’ ‘I have cancelled the notice I gave them,’ he said. ‘You will not have the pleasure of seeing the club furniture coming out into the street.’ It turned out that the Captain was an old whaleman. The boys wanted to hear some whaling stories, and their new friend promised to tell them some during the evening. When the time came for the narration, the boys were ready, and so was the old mariner. The Doctor joined the party, and the four found a snug corner in the cabin where they were not likely to be disturbed. The Captain settled himself as comfortably as possible, and then began the account of his adventures in pursuit of the monsters of the deep. A WAYSIDE SHRINE. A WAYSIDE SHRINE. CHINESE TRADING-JUNK ON THE WOOSUNG RIVER. CHINESE TRADING-JUNK ON THE WOOSUNG RIVER. A PAVILION IN THE PROHIBITED CITY. A PAVILION IN THE PROHIBITED CITY. "Easier to get away, you think?" I asked, with a worse frown than ever, as he stepped into the carry-all and took the lines. "Oh, if I could only trust you!" she said, shaking her head sadly and trying to lift her arm's burden again without taking her eyes from mine. It went to her feet in a landslide, and out of one of the books fluttered three stems of sweet-pea each bearing two mated blossoms. I knew them in an instant, and in the next I had them. She would not let me pile the fallen freight anywhere but into her arm again, nor recover her eye before she was fully re-laden. Then she set her lips freezingly and said "Now give me back my flowers." CHAPTER FOUR "The work in question," continued the Clockwork man, without taking any notice at all of the other's impatience, "is of a satirical nature. Its purpose is to awaken people to a sense of the many absurdities in modern life that result from a too mechanical efficiency. It is all in my head. I can spin it all out, word for word—" "None," said the Clockwork man, and the word was boomed out on a hollow, brassy note. "We are made, you see. For us creation is finished. We can only improve ourselves very slowly, but we shall never quite escape the body of this death. We've only ourselves to blame. The makers gave us our chance. They are beings of infinite patience and forbearance. But they saw that we were determined to go on as we were, and so they devised this means of giving us our wish.[Pg 210] You see, Life was a Vale of Tears, and men grew tired of the long journey. The makers said that if we persevered we should come to the end and know joys earth has not seen. But we could not wait, and we lost faith. It seemed to us that if we could do away with death and disease, with change and decay, then all our troubles would be over. So they did that for us, and we've stopped the same as we were, except that time and space no longer hinder us." The Spanish beauty said something, and pointed to the bed. A man in a deep sleep lay there--so deep a sleep that at first Bruce took him to be dead. But there was just the slightest flicker of a pulse, a quiver of the eyelids. On a table close by was a glass containing, from the odour of it, laudanum. A half-empty phial of it was clenched in the patient's hand. "It's like this," he said, laying the fateful notes on the table. "A man who has got to be identified is found dead--murdered, beyond a doubt, in an unoccupied house in Raven Street. All the circumstances of the case point to robbery. On searching the body we find a letter written by the deceased to a friend saying that he is forwarding some banknotes. He gives the number of those banknotes amongst others--numbers 190753 to 190793. All this is set out clearly in the letter. Now, will you please to examine those notes, doctor, and tell me the numbers?"
"Then during the time that woman was in your house she wore a wig. You may make yourself pretty clear on that point. The creature you saw tonight in the courtyard has no doubt passed at different times under many names, but to the world she is at present known as Countess Lalage." "On a charge of theft. You robbed my wife and she found you out. One of the servants found you out as well. You had barely time to conceal those jewels and get away. After a time you came back for them. You stole them from their hiding-place." "Are you nervous tonight?" Bruce asked. "Liège, The dust-wall extended gradually as the distance grew covered by the Germans in their flight to their former positions. But at last we saw the first men emerge in complete disorder from that driving cloud. Some on the right, others on the left, here60 and there also small groups which courageously dragged their guns with them, as they saved themselves from that infernal downpour. or how you amuse yourself. I can't visualize your surroundings. In the prince's stables were a long row of brood mares and superb stallions; and then a hundred or so of colts were turned out into the yard—mischievous, frisking things, romping against each other, suddenly stopping short, and wrapped ere long in white dust, which fell on us, too. With an instant return of his old amused self he threw back his head and let out a deep howl of delight. 71 Headfirst he plunged in, scrambling, instantly beginning to seek the points where the control cables passed through channeled guides at each side.
Gently he drew back the stick, opening the throttle carefully. “No ghost with any self-respect would make a show of himself for newspaper publicity!” Dick chuckled. “That’s good,” Larry remarked. “Now the coast will be clear, the ghost can walk, and I will be with my trusty comrades to trip him up.” “Well, if you must know—that Whiteside feller was there, as per usual, and along come Jeff, limpin’——” So at five o'clock Cairness, coming again into that part of the cabin which his hostess persistently named the drawing-room, found the three Englishmen taking their tea, and a little man in clerical garb observing the rite with considerable uncertainty. He would have no tea himself, and his tone expressed a deep distrust[Pg 37] of the beverage. By the side of his chair stood a tall silk hat. It was in all probability the only one in the territories, or west of the Missouri, for that matter, and it caught Cairness's eye at once, the more especially as it was pierced by two round holes. As he stirred his tea and ate the thin slices of buttered bread, his glance wandered frequently to the hat. In the morning Cairness left them together and started for the San Carlos Agency. He was to meet a prospector there, and to begin his new fortunes by locating some mines. Ellton filled in the pause that threatened, with a return to the dominant topic. "This not having any pack-train," he opined, "is the very deuce and all. The only transportation the Q. M. can give you is a six-mule team, isn't it?"
"Here, Corporal; I want you. I've got a great lark. Our Secret Service people report a bad lodge of the Knights of the Golden Circle out here in the country that threatens to make trouble. It is made up of local scalawags and runaway rebels from Kentucky and Tennessee. They have a regular lodge-room in a log house out in the woods, which they have fixed up into a regular fort, and they hold their meetings at nights, with pickets thrown out, and no end of secrecy and mystery. The General thinks that they are some of the old counterfeiting, horse-stealing gang that infested the country, and are up to their old tricks. But it may be that they are planning wrecking a train, burning bridges and the like. They've got so bold that the Sheriff and civil officials are afraid of them, and don't dare go near them. I've persuaded the General to let me take out a squad and jump them. Want to go along?" "How many men would it kill if they were put one behind another?" "Yes, I congratulate Shorty, too. Lieutenant, I know these men, and they are all right. There has been a mistake. You can take your men back to Headquarters." "Fine lot o' marksmen you are, for a fact. Halfa dozen o' you bangin' away at a hundred yards, and not comin' close enough to a nigger to let him know you was shootin' at him. Now will you lay down and go to sleep? Here, Si, you take charge o' this gang and let me go to sleep. I've had enough o' them for one night." "There are spots the steel's never covered," he said. "You can tunnel through if you're lucky." A pause. "I—" "All's well ... it's a boy."
The tears splashed and dribbled on, till at last for some purely physical reason they stopped. Then a familiar tune swam into her head. She had been told of people who heard music when they were dying. Suddenly he noticed that the wet of her garments was dropping on the lamb. He hastily gathered it up in his arms. "So it be—I shudn't have brought you through all this damp grass. We shud have gone by the lane, I reckon." "Robert Backfield, I arrest you on the charge of stealing a pocket-book containing bonds and money from Squire Ralph Bardon of Flightshot." Reuben tore the posters down whenever he found them, but this kind of attack did not humiliate him as the old pitying curiosity had done. He was not lowered in his own esteem. On the contrary, he enjoyed the fame which Radical hate conferred on him. There was no doubt about Odiam's importance now. He had risen too, and stood before her in mingled pain and surprise. He thought her resistance mere coyness, and suddenly flung his arms round her as she stood. Except for a steady maintenance of prosperity by dint of hard work, the year was uneventful. Autumn passed, and nothing broke the strenuous monotony of the days, not even news of the absent children. Then came an evening in winter when Reuben, Pete, and Harry were sitting in front of the kitchen fire. Reuben and his son were half asleep, Harry was mumbling to himself and playing with a piece of string. These tricks were never unkind, for David and William were the most benevolent little boys. They saw life through a golden mist, it smelt of milk and apples, it was full of soft lowings and bleatings and cheepings, of gentle noses to stroke and little downy things to hold. For the first time since it became Reuben's, Odiam made children happy. The farm which had been a galley and a prison to those before them, was an enchanted land of adventure to these two. Old Beatup, who remembered earlier things, would sometimes smile when he saw them trotting hand in hand about the yard, playing long hours in the orchard, and now and then[Pg 385] pleading as a special favour to be allowed to feed the chickens, or help fetch the cows home. He seemed to see the farm peopled by little ghosts who had never dared trot about aimlessly, or had time to play, and had fed the fowls and fetched the cows not as a treat and an adventure, but as a dreary part of the day's grind ... he reflected that "the m?aster had learned summat by the others, surelye." De Boteler looked at Edith an instant with a frown, as if about to answer fiercely; but after a moment he inquired calmly, "It is of no consequence who I am: and as to this mask, why! a man can work as well with it as without it." "Never! never!" replied the woman, with a convulsive scream. "No one but you dare I ask—and I will not leave my hold, unless you force me! You know not what is in the heart: even in the last hour there may be—there is mercy. Let him not die with the curse upon him—and, by all your hopes in this life, and by the blessedness that will gladden you hereafter, do not deny the last hope of the wretched!" The woman again bent down her head, as if exhausted by the intensity of her feelings. As the baron had promised not to punish, Byles and his wife were dismissed unharmed; but from that hour forward, they were regarded by all as under ban, and therefore shunned as much as possible. We should premise, however, that before Byles was permitted to leave the hall, Stephen Holgrave was led in, that he might receive a public acquittal. When Holgrave entered, supported by one of the servitors, and, appearing unable to stand, was seated on a stool, Sir Robert Knowles, who had more than once taken a strong interest in him, started up, and was about to make some observation; but recollecting himself, he resumed his seat, and remained silent. De Boteler himself felt a glow of shame and a qualm of conscience, as he looked upon the white, swollen face, and bent and shrunken form of one who had, in the moment of peril, sprung, with the vigour and ferocity of the tiger, between him and death. Holgrave had not been informed why the agonizing punishment had been remitted, nor why he had been placed in a comfortable bed, and every attention paid him; and he only suspected that, perceiving severity could effect nothing, they were unwilling to lose their victim, and wished again to try the effect of a milder treatment. His suspicions seemed confirmed, when, upon an order from De Boteler, a page approached, and presented him with a cup of wine. Although, as we have said, suspecting the motive of so much indulgence, he drank the wine, and then, looking round the hall, wondered why there had been such a gathering of the vassals, and why their looks were bent upon him with such friendly interest, and why words of pity and triumph were murmured amongst them; then he wondered why Jack Straw was sitting in Calverley's place, and what fault John Byles and his wife had committed, that they stood there like criminals. These thoughts, however, had scarcely passed through his mind, when the baron addressed him in a gentle tone.