MAJOR VIGOUREUX

NOVELS AND STORIES BY "Q"

Published by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

Major Vigoureux $1. 50Poison Island $1. 50Sir John Constantine $1. 50The Mayor of Troy $1. 50Shining Ferry $1. 50The Adventures of Harry Revel $1. 50The White Wolf and Other Tales $1. 50The Laird's Luck and Other Tales $1. 50Fort Amity $1. 50Two Sides of the Face: Midwinter Tales $1. 50Old Fires and Profitable Ghosts $1. 50The Ship of Stars $1. 50Historical Tales from Shakespeare $1. 50

MAJOR VIGOUREUX

BY

A. T. QUILLER-COUCH

("Q")

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONSNEW YORK 1907

Copyright, 1907, byCHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

Published September, 1907

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

 I. IN THE GARRISON GARDEN 1

 II. SERGEANT ARCHELAUS IS RE-FITTED 12

 III. THE COMMANDANT FINESSES A KNAVE 28

 IV. THE GUN IN THE GREAT FOG 44

 V. THE S. S. MILO 56

 VI. HOW VASHTI CAME TO THE ISLANDS 71

 VII. TRIBULATIONS OF MRS. POPE AND MISS GABRIEL 84

 VIII. A BRIEF REVENGE 97

 IX. THE SALVING OF S. S. MILO 106

 X. THE ADVENTURES OF FOUR SHILLINGS 125

 XI. PLAN OF CAMPAIGN 142

 XII. SAARON ISLAND 158

 XIII. THE LADY FROM THE SEA 174

 XIV. AFTER SERVICE 190

 XV. BREFAR CHURCH 205

 XVI. THE LORD PROPRIETOR'S AUDIENCE 221

 XVII. THE LORD PROPRIETOR RECEIVES A DOUBLE SHOCK 232

 XVIII. VASHTI PLEADS FOR SAARON 243

 XIX. THE COMMANDANT'S CONSCIENCE 262

 XX. THE GUITAR AND THE CASEMENT 277

 XXI. SUSPICIONS 293

 XXII. PIPER'S HOLE 306

 XXIII. THE LORD PROPRIETOR HEARS A SIREN SONG 320

 XXIV. LINNET SEES A MERMAID 337

 XXV. MISSING! 344

 XXVI. THE SEARCH 356

 XXVII. ENTER THE COMMISSIONER 373

XXVIII. THE FINDING 387

 XXIX. CONCLUSION 399

MAJOR VIGOUREUX

CHAPTER I

IN THE GARRISON GARDEN

"Archelaus, " said the Commandant, "where did you get those trousers?"Sergeant Archelaus, who, as he dug in the neglected garden, had beenexposing a great quantity of back-view (for he was a long man), straightened himself up, faced about, and, grounding his long-handledspade as it were a musket, stood with palms crossed over the top of it. 

"Off the Lord Proprietor, " he answered. 

The Commandant, seated on a bench under the veronica hedge, a few yardshigher up the slope, laid down his book, took off his spectacles, wipedthem, and replaced them very deliberately. 

"The Lord Proprietor? I do not understand--" His face had reddened alittle, as it usually did at mention of the Lord Proprietor. 

"Made me a present of 'em, " explained Sergeant Archelaus, curtly. "Youdon't mean to say you haven't noticed 'em till this minute?"

The Commandant put the question aside. "The Lord Proprietor has noright to be offering presents to my men--least of all, presents ofclothes. "

"If the Government won't send over stores, nor you write for any, Idon't see how the man can help himself. 'Tisn't regulation pattern forthe R'yal Artillery, I'll grant you: not the sort of things you'd wearon the right of the line. In fact, he told me 'tis an old pair he usedto carry when he went deer-stalkin'. "

"They are hideous, Archelaus; not to mention that they don't fit you inthe least. "

"They don't look so bad when I'm sitting down, " said Archelaus, after amoment's thought, and with an air of forced cheerfulness. 

"If that's all you can say in extenuation!----"

"Well, 'twas kindly meant, any way; for the old ones were ascandal--yes, be sure. What with sea-water and scrambling after gulls'eggs, they was becoming a byword all over the Islands. "

The Commandant winced, not for the first time in this conversation. 

"Treacher makes his clothes last, " he objected. 

"Sam Treacher's a married man, and gets his bad luck different. "

"But--but couldn't you ask Mrs. Treacher to take your old ones in handand put in a patch or two? That might carry you on for a few months, and if you grudge the expense, I don't mind subscribing a shilling orso. "

Sergeant Archelaus shook his head. "What's the use?" he asked. "'Tisbut puttin' off the evil day. If Her Majesty won't send us clothes, wemust fall back on Providence. Besides which, I've taken the edge offthese things, and don't want to begin over again. Last Wednesday I wore'em over to the Off Islands, to practise 'em on the sea-birds; and lastevening after dusk I walked through the town with 'em--yes, sir, rightout past the church and back again, my blood being up, and came homeand cut a square out of the old ones to wrap round the bung of thewater-butt. "

The Commandant eyed the sergeant's legs in silence, choking downhalf-a-dozen angry criticisms. No; he could not trust himself to speak;and, after a minute, cramming his clenched fists into the pockets ofhis frayed fatigue-jacket, he swung about on his heel and walked out ofthe garden with angry strides. 

Was the Lord Proprietor making sport of him?--purposely making him andhis garrison the laughing-stock of the Islands?

The Commandant walked up the road with a hot heart: past the Barracksand beyond them to the down, where a ruined windmill overlooked thesea. He wanted to be alone, and up here he could count upon solitude. He wanted to walk off his ill-humour. But the ascent was steep, and he, alas! no longer a young man; and at the windmill he was forced to standstill and draw breath. 

At his feet lay the Islands, bathed in the light of a fast-reddeningOctober sunset. Against such a sunset, if the air be very clear, youmay see them from the cliffs of the mainland--a low, dark cloud out inthe Atlantic; and in old days the Commandant had repined often enoughat the few leagues which then had cut him off from the world, fromactive service, from promotion. 

Gradually, as time went on, he had grown resigned, and with resignationhe had learnt to be proud of his kingdom--for his kingdom _de facto_it was. The Islanders had used to speak of him sometimes as TheCommandant, but oftener as The Governor. (They never called him TheGovernor nowadays. ) His military establishment, to be sure--consistingof a master-gunner, four other gunners, and two or three agedsergeants--scarcely accorded with his rank of major; but by way ofcompensation he was, as President of the Council of Twelve, the chiefcivil magistrate of the Islands. 

This requires a word or two of explanation. The Reigning Sovereign ofEngland retained, as he yet retains, military authority over theIslands, and from him, through the Commander-in-chief, our friend heldhis appointment as military governor. But His Majesty King William IIIand his successors, by a lease two or three times renewed, had granted"all those His Majesty's territories and rocks"--so the wording ran--toa great and unknown person of whom the Islanders spoke reverentially asThe Duke, "together with all sounds, harbours, and sands within thecircuit of the said Isles; and all lands, tenements, meadows, pastures, grounds, feedings, fishing places, mines of tin, lead, and coals, andall profits of the same, and full power to dig, work, and mine in thepremises; and also all the marshes, void grounds, woods, under-woods, rents, reservoirs, services, and all other profits, rights, commodities, advantages, and emoluments within the said Isles; and amoiety of all shipwreck, the other moiety to be received by the LordHigh Admiral; as also all His Majesty's Liberties, Franchises, Authorities, and Jurisdictions, as had before been used in the saidIslands; with full power to hear, examine, and finally determine allplaints, suits, matters, actions, controversies, contentions, anddemands whatever, moved and depending between party and partyinhabiting the said Isle (all business, treason, matters touching lifeor member of man, or title of land; and also all controversies andcauses touching ships, and other things belonging to the High Court ofAdmiralty always excepted)"--all this for an annual rent of FortyPounds. 

The Duke, in short, was by his lease made Lord Proprietor, with allcivil jurisdiction. But, being far too great a man to reside in theIslands, or even to visit them, he entrusted his business to a residentAgent, and deputed his magistracy to an elective Council of Twelve, over which the Commandant for the time being invariably presided. Butthis custom (it should be explained) rested on courtesy and not uponright. Based upon compromise--for the boundaries between the civil andmilitary jurisdictions were at some points not precisely determined--ithad been found to work smoothly enough in practice, it had stood thetest of a hundred and fifty years when, in the year after Sevastopol, Major Narcisse Vigoureux arrived in the Islands to take over themilitary command, and the Duke nominated him for the Presidency quiteas a matter of course. 

As President, he had power, with the assent of the Court, to inflictfines, whippings, and imprisonment--this last with the limitation thathe could not commit to any prison on the mainland, but only to theIsland lock-up; and also, if he chose, to prescribe the ducking-stoolfor refractory or scolding women. The office carried no salary; but asGovernor under the Lord Proprietor he enjoyed a valuable perquisite inthe harbour dues collected from the shipping. Every vessel visiting theport or hoisting the Queen's colours was liable, on coming to anchor orgrounding, to pay the sum of two shillings and two pence. Allforeigners paid double. And since, in addition to ships putting in fromabroad, it sometimes happened that two hundred sail of coasters wouldbe driven by easterly gales to shelter in St. Lide's Harbour, orroadstead, or in Cromwell's Sound, you may guess that this made a verypleasant addition to the Commandant's military pay. 

In short, for a dozen years Major Narcisse Vigoureux had been, for anunmarried man, an exceedingly happy one. If you ask me how an officerbearing such a name happened in command of a British garrison, I answerthat he was not a Frenchman, but a Channel Islander of good Jerseydescent; and this again helped him to understand the folk over whom heruled. The wrong-doers feared him; but they were few. By the rest ofthe population, including his soldiers, he was beloved, respected, nota little envied. For a bachelor he mingled with zest in the smallsocial amusements of Garland Town, the capital of the Islands. He shoneat picnics and water-parties. He played a fair hand at whist. Hismanner towards ladies was deferential; towards men, dignified without atrace of patronage or self-conceit. All voted him a good fellow. Atfirst, indeed--for he practised small economies, and his linen, thoughclean, was frayed--they suspected him of stinginess, until by accidentthe Vicar discovered that a great part of his pay went to support hisdead brother's family--a widow and two girls who lived at Notting Hill, London, in far from affluent circumstances. 

In spite of this the Commandant's lot might fairly have been calledenviable until the day which terminated the ninety-nine years' leaseupon which the Duke held the Islands. Everyone took it for granted thathe would apply, as his predecessors had twice applied, for a renewal. But, no; like a bolt from the blue came news that the Duke, an old man, had waived his application in favour of an unknown purchaser--unknown, that is to say, in the Islands--a London banker, recently created abaronet, by name Sir Cęsar Hutchins. 

In general, all Garland Town relied for information about persons ofrank and title upon Miss Elizabeth Gabriel, a well-to-do spinster lady, daughter of a former agent of the Duke's. But Miss Gabriel's copy of"The Peerage and Baronetage of Great Britain and Ireland" dated from1845, and Sir Cęsar's title being of more recent--or, as she put it, ofmushroom--creation, the curious had to wait until a newer volumearrived from the mainland. Meanwhile, at their whist parties twice aweek, the gentry of Garland Town indulged in a hundred brisk surmises, but without alarm--"unconscious of their doom, the little victimsplayed. " It was agreed, of course, that the new Lord Proprietor wouldnot take up his abode in the Islands. For where was a suitableresidence? On the whole the Commandant had little doubt that thingswould go on as before, but he felt some uneasiness for Mr. Pope, theDuke's agent. 

Within a fortnight, however, came two fresh announcements, of which thefirst--a letter from Sir Cęsar, continuing Mr. Pope in hisoffice--gratified everyone. But the second was terrible indeed. The WarOffice had decided to disband the garrison and remove its guns!

Major Vigoureux' face had whitened as he read that letter, five yearsago. It whitened yet at the remembrance of it. As for his hair, it hadbeen whitening ever since. 

For dreadful things had happened in those five years. To begin with, the new Lord Proprietor had upset prophecy by coming into residence, and had reared himself a handsome house on the near island ofInniscaw. .. . But here for a while let us forbear to retrace those fiveyears with their humiliating memories. It is enough that the Commandantnow walked with a stoop; that he wore not only his linen frayed but afrayed coat also; and that he who of old had so often wished thatEngland would take note of his Islands against the western sun, nowprayed rather that the fogs would cover them and cut them off fromsight forever. He had practical reasons, too, for such a prayer; but ofthese he was not thinking as he turned there by the windmill, and spiedSergeant Treacher approaching along the ridge, and trundling awheel-barrow full of manure. The level sun-rays, painting the turf to agreen almost unnaturally vivid, and gilding the straw of the manure, passed on to flame upon Sergeant Treacher's breast as though beneathhis unbuttoned tunic he wore a corslet of burnished brass. TheCommandant blinked, again removed his glasses, and, having repolished, resumed them. 

"Treacher, what are you wearing?"

"Meanin' the weskit, sir?" asked Treacher. 

"Is it a waistcoat?"

"Well, sir, it used to be an antimacassar; but Miss Gabriel had it madeup for me, all the shirts in store bein' used up, so to speak. "

Too well the Commandant recognised it; an abomination of crochet workin stripes, four inches wide, of scarlet, green, orange-yellow, andviolet. For years--in fact ever since he remembered Miss Gabriel'sfront parlour--it had decorated the back of Miss Gabriel's sofa. 

"She said, sir, that with the autumn drawing on, and the winter coming, it would cut up nicely for a weskit, " Treacher explained. 

"Miss Gabriel, " began the Commandant, "Miss Gabriel has no business----"

"No, sir?" suggested Treacher, after a pause. 

"You will take it off. You will take it off this instant, and hand itto me. "

"Yes, sir. " Treacher obediently slipped off his tunic. "I don't likethe thing myself; it's too noticeable, though warming. Miss Gabrielcalled it a Chesterfield. "

"It's a conspiracy!" said the Commandant. 

CHAPTER II

SERGEANT ARCHELAUS IS RE-FITTED

The Commandant, still with a hot heart, walked for a little way besideSergeant Treacher. He carried the offending waistcoat slung across hisarm, and once or twice hesitated on the verge of indignant speech; butby-and-by seemed to recollect himself, halted, turned, and, partingfrom Treacher without more words, marched off for his customary eveningwalk around the fortifications. 

Let us follow him. 

The garrison occupied the heights of a peninsula connected with St. Lide's by a low sandy isthmus, across which it looked towards the"country side" of the island, though this country side was in factconcealed by rising ground, for the most part uncultivated, wheresheets of mesembryanthemum draped the outcropping ledges of granite. Atthe foot of the hill, around the pier and harbour to the north andeast, clustered St. Hugh's town, and climbed by one devious street tothe garrison gate. From where he stood the Commandant could almost lookdown its chimneys. Along the isthmus straggled a few houses in doubleline, known as New Town, and beyond, where the isthmus widened, lay theOld Town around its Parish Church. These three together made GarlandTown, the capital of the Islands; and the population of St. Lide's--town, garrison, and country side--numbered a little overfourteen hundred. Garrison Hill, rising (as we have seen) with a prettysteep acclivity, attains the height of a hundred and ten feet above sealevel. It measures about three-quarters of a mile in length and aquarter of a mile in breadth, and the lines of fortification extendedaround the whole hill (except upon the north-west side, which happenedto be the most important); a circuit of one mile and a quarter. 

[Illustration]

You entered them beneath a massive but ruinous gateway, surmounted by abell, which Sergeant Treacher rang regularly at six, nine, and twelveo'clock in the morning, and at three, six, and nine p. M. , and struck toannounce the intervening hours: for the Islands had no public clock. Tothe left of this gateway the Commandant always began his round, starting from King George's Battery, to which in old days the Islandershad looked for warning of the enemy's approach. Then it had mountedseven long eighteen-pounders: now--The Commandant sighed and movedon; past the Duke's Battery (four eighteen-pounders), the Vixen (oneeighteen and one nine-pounder), and along by a breastwork pierced withembrasures to the important battery on Day Point, at the extremesouth-east. Here five thirty-two pounders--and, three hundred yardsaway to the west, in the great Windlass Battery, no fewer than elevenguns of the same calibre--had grinned defiance at the ships of France. To-day the grass grew on their empty platforms, the nettles sproutedfrom their angles . .. And the Commandant--what was he doing here?

I fear the answer may provoke a smile. He was drawing his pay. 

The guns, the garrison, were gone these five years; but by someoversight of the War Office neither the Commandant nor his twosergeants had been retired. Regularly, month by month, his pay-sheethad been accepted; regularly the full amount had been handed to him byMr. Fossell, agent at Garland Town for Messrs. Curtis' Bank on themainland. Clearly there was a mistake somewhere, and often enough hisconscience smote him, urging that he ought, in honour, to callattention to it. He was defrauding the Government, and, through theGovernment, the taxpayer. 

Yes; conscience put this plainly enough, and he felt it to beunanswerable. But if he obeyed conscience and published themistake--good Heavens! what would happen to him? Already, three yearsago, the Lord Proprietor had resumed the shipping dues which had madeso welcome an addition to his income. On the strength of them he hadmade a too liberal allowance to his brother's widow; and now tomaintain it he was driven to deny himself all but the barest necessaryexpenses. Yet how could he cut it down? The two girls were growing up. Their mother had sent them to a costly school. As it was, her lettersburdened him with complaints of her poverty: for she was a peevish, grasping woman--poor soul!

Again, if he published the mistake, he impoverished not himself onlybut his two sergeants: and Treacher was a married man. He often druggedhis conscience with this. But his conscience, being healthy, was soonawake and tormenting him. 

It humiliated him, too. Government, which sent him his full pay, neversent him stores, ammunition, or clothing for his men. He wanted noammunition; but his men needed clothing--and he dared not ask for it. Their uniforms were (as Miss Gabriel had more than once pointedlyasserted in his hearing) a scandal to the Islands. Moreover, the priceof hens' eggs ruling high in Garland Town, he had discovered thatgulls' eggs made a tolerable substitute. It was in scrambling aftergulls' eggs for his Commanding Officer that Sergeant Archelaus hadruined his small-clothes. .. . And now you know why in the course of hisdiscussion with Sergeant Archelaus the Commandant had winced more thanonce. 

Worst of all, the fatal secret tied his tongue under all the manyslights (as he reckoned them) which the Lord Proprietor put on him. No;worst of all was the self-reproach he carried about in his own breast. But none the less the Commandant, as a sensitive man, chafed under theLord Proprietor's tyranny, which was the harder to bear for beingslightly contemptuous. He felt that all his old friends pitied himwhile they turned to worship the rising sun; while, as for Miss Gabriel(who had never been his friend), he feared her caustic tongue worsethan the devil. 

But to attack him thus through his men! Had Miss Gabriel and the LordProprietor conspired to inflict this indignity?

The Commandant was a sincere Christian: ever willing to believe thebest of his kind, incapable of harbouring malice, or, except in thebrief heat of temper, of imputing it to others. In the short threehundred yards between the Day Point and Windlass Batteries he repentedhis worst thoughts. He acquitted his enemies--if enemies they were--ofconspiracy. The coincidence of the two gifts was fortuitous: they hadbeen offered without guile, if also without sufficient care for hisfeelings. But this kind of thing must not happen again, and obviouslythe most tactful way to prevent it was, not to remonstrate with MissGabriel or with the Lord Proprietor, but to provide (somehow) his twosergeants with a re-fit. 

The Commandant had arrived at this conclusion and at the Sand PitBattery (five thirty-two pounders) almost simultaneously, when, acrossthe breastwork, he was aware of Mr. Rogers, Lieutenant R. N. , andInspecting Commander of the Coast-guard, standing at the head of theslope just outside the fortifications, and conning the sea through atelescope. 

"Hullo!" said Mr. Rogers--a short man with a jolly smile--lowering hisglass and facing suddenly about at the sound of the Commandant'sfootfall. "Hullo! and good evening!"

"Good evening!" responded Major Vigoureux. 

"Queer-looking sky out yonder. "

"So it is, now you come to mention it. " The Commandant, shaken out ofhis brown study, slowly concentrated his gaze on the western horizon. 

"See that bank of fog? I don't know what to make of it. No wind at all;the glass steady as a rock; and a heavy swell rolling up from westward. Take hold of my glass and bring it to bear on the Monk"--this was thelighthouse guarding the westernmost reef of the Off Islands. "Every nowand then a sea'll hide half the column. "

"For my part, " said the Commandant, "I've been out of all calculationwith the weather for a week past. It's uncanny for the time of year. "

"There's the devil of a rumpus going on somewhere, to account for thesea that's running, " said Mr. Rogers, and checked himself in the act ofhanding the telescope across the breastwork, as he caught sight ofSergeant Treacher's waistcoat, which the Commandant was nervouslyshifting from his right arm to his left. 

"Hullo!" said Mr. Rogers, again. 

"It's--it's a sort of waistcoat, " explained the Commandant. 

"It may be, " said Mr. Rogers. "But unless I'm a Dutchman, it used to beThe Gabriel's antimacassar"--and with that Mr. Rogers winked, for hehad (as the other knew to his cost) an artless, primitive sense ofpleasantry. "A _gage d'amour_, I'll bet any man a sovereign. Come now!"

"I assure you----"

"And you two pretending before everyone that you're at daggers drawn!Trust an old one for slyness!"

(Once again this afternoon the Commandant winced. )

"Oh, but this is too rich!" Mr. Rogers continued, and the Commandantfelt that only the intervening breastwork protected him from a nudgeunder the ribs. "I must take a rise out of the old lady to-night, whenwe meet at old Fossell's. "

"I--I beg you will do nothing of the sort. " The Commandant's voiceshook with apprehension. 

Mr. Rogers, mistaking the tremor in the appeal, recoiled suddenly fromthe extremely gay to the extremely grave. "My good fellow! Of course, if it's serious!----"

"'Serious!'" The Commandant stared at him for a moment. "Oh, damn thewoman!" he broke out in sudden wrath, and went his way with longstrides, while the Inspecting Commander looked after him with a broadgrin. 

The next battery, the Keg of Butter--so called from a barrel-shapedrock which it overlooked--was built of sods, and had mounted a singleeighteen-pounder, on a traversing platform. Here, on the north-westside of the hill, the fortifications broke off, or were continued onlyby a low wall along the edge of the cliff; and here the path, or _viamilitaris_, turned off at a sharp angle and led back towards theCastle, under the walls of which the Commandant passed, as a rule, tocomplete his inspection by visiting the three batteries on the northerncliffs. But to-day he broke his custom, and returned to the GarrisonGarden. 

As he opened the gate, five o'clock sounded from the garrison bell, andat the first stroke of it he saw Sergeant Archelaus drive his spadeinto the soil, draw the back of his wrist across his forehead, and walktowards the veronica hedge for his tunic. 

"Archelaus!"

"Sir!"

"I have been thinking over those trousers--" began the Commandant, picking his way between the briers that threatened to choke the path. 

"And so have I, " said Sergeant Archelaus; "and the upshot is, Do youspell 'em with a 'u' or a 'w'?"

"Now you mention it, I don't feel able to answer you off-hand; notwithout writing it down, " said the Commandant. "But what on earth doesit matter?"

"Nothin'--except that I was thinkin' to write him a letter, to thankhim. "

"For Heaven's sake--" the Commandant began, and checked himself. "Iwouldn't do that, if I were you. In fact, I've been thinking the matterover, and it occurs to me that I have an old pair of dress trousersthat might serve your turn; that is to say, if you could manage tounpick the red stripe off your old ones and get someone to sew it on. They are black, to be sure; but the difference between black and darkblue is not so very noticeable. And the cut of them inclines to thepeg-top, that being the fashionable shape when I bought them--let mesee--in fifty-seven, I think it was. "

"I know 'em, " said Sergeant Archelaus. "They were sound enough twomonths back, when I sprinkled 'em over with camphor, against the moth. "

"I think they will do excellently. "

"They'll do, fast enough, " Sergeant Archelaus asserted; "though itseems like deprivin' you. "

"Not at all, Archelaus; not in the least. Why, I haven't put on eveningdress half a dozen times since I came to the Islands. "

"And that's a long time, to be sure, sir. But one never knows. The LordProprietor might take it into his head, one o' these days, to inviteyou to dinner. "

"Few things are less likely. And even if he did, and the worst came tothe worst, I might borrow Mr. Rogers', you know, " added theCommandant--and with a smile; for he stood six feet, and Mr. Rogers abare five feet five, in their respective socks. 

"He might ask you both together. 'Twould be just of a piece with hisdamned thoughtlessness. "

"Hush, Archelaus!" his master commanded sternly, and reproached himselfafterwards for having felt not altogether ill-pleased. 

"Well, sir, I thank you kindly; and I won't deny 'twill be a comfort togo about with the lower half of me looking a bit less like a pen-wiper. But what be I to do with the pesky things? Return 'em?"

"On no account. You might even thank him--by word of mouth--if you havenot already done so. "

"I haven't. To tell the truth, the pattern took me so aback at firstgoing off. .. . But when you came in by the gate, there, I was turning itover in my mind that the garrison oughtn't to be beholden to acivilian----"

"Quite right, Archelaus. "

"And, that bein' so, it might be dignified-like to return gift forgift. Now, the Lord Proprietor's terrible fond of bulbs; 'tis a newcraze with him; and in spading over the border here I'd a-turned up adozen or so of those queer-looking Lent-lilies you set such storeby----" Sergeant Archelaus pointed towards a little heap of daffodilbulbs carelessly strewn on the up-turned soil. 

These bulbs had a history. 

Close on thirty years before, a certain Dutch skipper--his name isforgotten--happened to be sailing for Bordeaux with a general cargo, which included some thousands of tulips, and a few almost pricelessones, for a rich purchaser who wished to introduce tulip-culture intothe Gironde. The Dutchman's vessel was a flat-bottomed galliot, fittedwith lee-boards, but liable to fall away from the wind; and, encountering a strong southerly gale as he attempted to round Ushant, he was blown northward into the fogs, and, through the fogs, upon theIslands. 

Against what followed, the chances were at least a thousand to one. Hisvessel, blind as to her whereabouts, and helpless among the tide-races, missed rock after rock, blundered her way past every sunken peril--tobe sure, she was flat-bottomed, but the soundings varied so from momentto moment that the crew, after running a dozen times to the boats inthe certainty of striking, fully believed themselves bewitched; until, in St. Lide's Pool, as they made seven fathoms and hoped for openwater, the fog lifted suddenly, and they saw Garrison Hill right abovethem. 

This befell them a short hour before sunset. The skipper rounded up tothe wind, dropped anchor, got out a boat, and groped his wayshoreward--for the fog had descended again, even more speedily than ithad lifted. 

Groping his way, and still attended by his amazing good luck, theDutchman, where he had expected rocks, came plump on a pier of hewnmasonry. At the pier-head, which loomed high above them, a man struck alight and displayed a lantern; and, looking up, the crew were aware ofmany people standing there and chattering in the dusk--chattering inthe low soft tone peculiar to the Islanders. The skipper hailed them inDutch, and again in French, these being the only languages he spoke. The Islanders, helping him ashore, made signs that they could notanswer, but took him and his men up the hill to the Garrison, thencommanded by a Colonel Bartlemy. 

Colonel Bartlemy could speak French after a fashion, and so could hisexcellent wife. Between them they entertained the wanderers hospitablyfor the space of five days, at the end of which the Dutchman went hisway before a clear north wind, and in charge of an Island pilot. Butbefore departing he presented his hosts--it was all that either hecould give or they would permit themselves to accept--with a quantityof remarkably fine bulbs from his cargo. 

Now, possibly, being a Dutchman, he took it for granted that anyonecould recognise these bulbs for what they were. But Mrs. Bartlemy didnot; for she had spent the most of her life in various garrisons, whichafford few opportunities for gardening. None the less, she was, for asoldier's wife, a first-rate housekeeper; and, supposing these bulbs tobe onions of peculiar rarity, she forthwith issued invitations to the_elite_ of the Island, and ordered over a leg of Welsh mutton from themainland. I will not attempt to tell of the dinner that ensued: forMiss Gabriel made the story her own, and everyone who heard her relateit after one of Garland Town's _petits soupers_--as she frequently didby special request--declared it to be inimitable. Suffice it to saythat the tulips were boiled, but not eaten. 

A few bulbs, of smaller size, escaped the pot, and Mrs. Bartlemy, inher mortification, ordered the cook to throw them away, or (in thelanguage of the Islands) to "heave them to cliff. " The cook cast themout upon a bed of rubbish in a corner of the garrison garden, whereby-and-by they were covered with fresh rubbish, under which theysprouted; and, next spring, lo! the midden heap had become a mound ofglorious trumpet daffodils!

So they were left to blossom, refreshing the eyes of successiveCommandants year after year as March came round and the Marchnor'-westers set their yellow bells waving against the blue sea. MajorVigoureux delighted in them--were they not his name-flower? But no onetook pains to cultivate them, as no one suspected their great destiny. They bloomed year by year, and waited. Their hour was not yet. 

"By all means, Archelaus, let us do it tactfully, " agreed theCommandant. "We must suppress those trousers of his at all costs. Yet Iwould avoid anything in the nature of a rebuff, and if you think theLord Proprietor would be gratified, you are welcome to take him as manyof the bulbs as you please. Only leave me a few; for God knows ourgarden has few ornaments to spare. "

"I'll take 'em over to Inniscaw and thank him by word o' mouth, " saidSergeant Archelaus, hopefully. "It'll save me the trouble of spelling'trousers, ' anyway. "

"It would be easier, as well as more accurate, " said the Commandant, pensively regarding the Sergeant's legs, "to call them trews. Not, " hewent on inconsequently, "that I have anything to say against theHighland Regiments. I was brigaded once for three months with theForth-Second, and capital fellows I found them. "

With a mind relieved, the Commandant walked off towards the Barracks, pausing on his way to pick up Miss Gabriel's antimacassar-waistcoat, which he had taken the precaution to leave outside the gate. 

Three-quarters of an hour later he emerged in clean shirt andthreadbare, but well-brushed, uniform, arrayed for Mr. And Mrs. Fossell's whist-party. As he passed the Garrison gate, Mrs. Treacher, who sometimes acted deputy for her husband, began to ring the sixo'clock bell. He halted and waited for her to finish. 

"Mrs. Treacher, " he said, "can you tell me the price of flannel?"

"Flannel, " answered Mrs. Treacher, "is all prices, according toquality. "

"But I am talking of good ordinary flannel, fit to make up into a man'sshirt. "

"Then you couldn't say less than one-three-farthings, orone-and-a-ha'penny at the lowest. "

"And how much would be required?"

"Good Lord!" said Mrs. Treacher. "As if that didn't all depend on theman!"

"I was thinking, Mrs. Treacher, to present your husband with one: thatis to say, with the material, if you will not mind making it up. "

Mrs. Treacher curtsied. "And I thank you kindly, sir, for 'tis notbefore he needs one, which, being under average size and the width justa yard, as you may reckon, he oughtn't to take more thanthree-and-a-half yards at the outside. "

"Three-and-a-half at one-three-farthings--that makes--Oh, confoundthese fractions!" said the Commandant. "We'll make it four shillings, and you had best step down to Tregaskis' shop to-morrow and choose thestuff yourself. " He counted out the money into Mrs. Treacher's hand, and left her curtseying. As he went, he jingled the few coins remainingin his breeches pocket. They amounted to two-and-seven-pence inall--and almost a week stood between him and pay-day. 

CHAPTER III

THE COMMANDANT FINESSES A KNAVE

"I remember the Bartlemys perfectly, " said Miss Gabriel, addressing thecompany as they sat around Mr. And Mrs. Fossell's dining-table andtrifled with a light collation of cordial waters and ratafiabiscuits--prelude to serious whist. "I carry them both in my mind'seye, though I must have been but a tiny child when he succumbed toapoplexy, and she left the Islands to reside with a married sister atScarborough. Very poorly-off he left her. Somehow, our CommandingOfficers have never contrived to save money--even in the old days, whenthe post was worth having. "

Miss Gabriel said it lightly but pointedly, with a glance at theCommandant. The company stared at their plates and glasses. It waswell-known that (as Mr. Rogers put it) Miss Gabriel "had her knifeinto" the patient man, and there were tongues that attributed herspitefulness to disappointment. Fifteen years ago, when Major NarcisseVigoureux--no longer in his first youth, but still a man of handsomepresence--had first arrived in the Islands to take over his command, Miss Gabriel was a not uncomely woman of thirty. _Partis_ in theIslands are few, as you may suppose. He was a bachelor, she a spinster;she had money, and he position. What wonder, then, if the Islandersexpected them to make a match of it?

For some reason, the match had never come off, and although she mightconvince herself that the simplest reason--incompatibility--was thetrue one, Miss Gabriel could hardly have been unaware that the womenlooked upon her as one who had missed her chance, and even blamed her alittle--as women always will in such cases--in a conspiracy of sexacknowledging its weakness. Perhaps this made her defiant. 

She was handling the Commandant truculently to-night. 

"Of course, " she continued, "even in those days the post--don't theysay the same in England of a Deanery?--was looked upon as finishing aman's career. I don't know, for my part, the principle upon which theHorse Guards--it used to be the Horse Guards--sent Colonel Bartlemydown to us. "

"By selection, ma'am, " said the Commandant, still patiently, as shepaused; "by selection among a number of applicants. "

"I didn't want to be told that, " snapped Miss Gabriel. "What I meantwas, the Commander-in-Chief probably knew something of the man--hadinformed himself of something in his record--before sending him down tothis exile. "

"And a jolly good exile, too!" put in Mr. Rogers, heartily. 

"It used to be, " said Miss Gabriel. "This Colonel Bartlemy, forinstance, was a coward. I've heard it told of him that once, during hiscommand, a sort of mutiny broke out in the Barracks. It happened at atime when the newspapers were full of nonsense about France invading usby a sudden descent; and the noise, reaching him in the quarters wherehe lodged with his wife and one general maid-servant, put him in aterrible fright. He had fenced off these quarters of his for privacy, because Mrs. Bartlemy thought it would be a good deal better for themaid-servant; and they communicated with the Barracks by a staircasewith a door of which he kept the key. On the first alarm he ran to thisdoor and called through the key-hole for his orderly; but the orderly, who himself was taking part in the disturbance, did not hear. So theColonel called up his wife and the servant, and joined them at the headof the stairs after he had slipped on his belt and sword. By this timethe noise below was deafening. The Colonel, putting a brave face on it, managed to get the key into the lock and turn it. Then, as he flung thedoor open, he turned with a bow to his wife and said very politely, inFrench--for they were in the habit of talking French before thegirl--'_Passez devant, madame!_'"

"How did it end?" asked Mr. Rogers, after a guffaw. 

"Oh, it turned out to be just a barrack brawl. The soldiers were alwaysthe worst-behaved lot in the Islands, and perpetually grumbling--thoughin those days, " added Miss Gabriel, "I always understood that they werefed and clothed sufficiently. "

The Commandant whitened. Mrs. Fossell, a nervous body in a cap withlilac ribbon, rose in some little fluster, and opined that it wasalmost time to cut for partners. 

A few minutes later the Commandant found himself seated opposite Mr. Fossell, with Miss Gabriel and Mr. Rogers for opponents--Miss Gabrielon his left. He prepared to enjoy himself, for whist meant silence, andhe could have chosen no better partner than Mr. Fossell, who played asound game, and with a perfectly inscrutable face. 

"Dear me!" said Miss Gabriel, in the act of picking up her cards, "itseems as if this had happened a great many times before! What do yousay, Mr. Fossell, to staking half-a-crown on the rubber, just toenliven the game? You don't object on principle, I know, to playing formoney. "

"No, indeed, ma'am, " answered Mr. Fossell. "I am content if the othersare willing--not that for me the pleasure of playing against you needsany such--er--adventitious stimulus. "

Miss Gabriel appealed to Mr. Rogers. 

Mr. Rogers thought it would be great fun. "Come along, Vigoureux, " healmost shouted, "you can't refuse a lady's challenge!"

What could the poor Commandant do? Almost before he knew he had nodded, though with a set face, and by the nod committed himself. He felt hisfew coins burning in his breeches' pocket against his thigh, as if theywarned him. 

But, after all, Fossell was an excellent player. With the smallestluck, he and Fossell ought to be more than a match for a pair of whom, if one (Miss Gabriel) was wily, the other played a game not usuallydistinguishable from bumble-puppy. 

They won the first game easily. 

They had almost won the second when a devastating seven trumps in Mr. Rogers's hand (which he played atrociously) saw their opponents almostlevel--the score eight-seven. In the next hand, Miss Gabriel--for thiswas old-fashioned long whist--held all four honours, and took the game. 

The Commandant looked at Mr. Fossell. But a financier is not disturbedby the risk of half-a-crown. 

Only half-a-crown!--but for the Commandant a week between thishalf-a-crown and another. 

He wondered what Fossell would say--Fossell, sitting there, soimperturbable, with his shiny bald head--if he knew. 

"Game _and_!" announced Mr. Rogers. 

By this time the players at the second table, aware of the half-a-crownat stake, were listening in a state of suppressed excitement--suppressedbecause the Vicar, being deaf, had not overheard Miss Gabriel'schallenge, and the others feared that he might disapprove of playingfor money. 

The Vicar, who played against Mr. And Mrs. Pope, with Mrs. Fossell forpartner, had a habit of soliloquising over his hand on any subject thatoccurred to him. The rest of the table deferred to this habit, out ofrespect or because by experience they knew it to be incurable, sinceonly by conscious effort could he hear any voice but his own. 

By such an effort, holding his hand to his ear, he had listened to MissGabriel's anecdote about Colonel Bartlemy; smiling the while because hehad heard it many times before and knew it to be a good one; innocentlyunaware that it covered any caustic subintention. It had started him ona train of reminiscence which he pursued at the card-table (good man)for twenty-five minutes, recalling himself to the cards with a faintshock of surprise whenever it became his turn to play, as one who wouldprotest--"What, again? And so soon?"

"Yes, indeed, " the Vicar's voice struck in across the strained silence, "there is an old story that Oliver Cromwell left behind him, ingarrison here, a company of the Bedfordshire Regiment, and that in timethey were completely forgotten. (Let me see. Spades are trumps, Ibelieve. .. . 'Clubs'? Your pardon Mrs. Fossell, but I remember it was ablack suit. ) Yes, and seeing no prospect of recall they married in timewith our Island women, and that"--here the Vicar gathered up a trickwhich belonged to his opponents--"is, by some, alleged to be the reasonwhy the Islanders use a purer English than is spoken on the mainland. Ah, quite so; yes, I played the ten--then it was your ace, Mrs. Pope? Icongratulate you, ma'am. "

The Commandant, overhearing, could not forbear a glance at MissGabriel. It conveyed no resentment, scarcely even a reproach; it turnedrather, as by dumb instinct, upon the author of the wound, and askedperplexedly:--"What have I done to you, that you treat me thus?" I haveno doubt that Miss Gabriel caught the glance. She did not answer it;but her grey eyes glinted beneath their lids as she bent them upon thecards Mr. Fossell was dealing in his usual deliberate way--glinted asthough with a spark of flint struck out by steel. 

"The story may be apocryphal, " pursued the Vicar, addressing deaf earsaround the other table; "though, for my part, I incline to think theremay be a substratum----"

Mr. Fossell turned up the queen of hearts. The Commandant held ace, ten, and two small trumps, with a strong hand in diamonds, which Mr. Rogers, by a blundering lead, enabled him to establish early. Actualhonours were "easy"; but by exhausting trumps at the first opportunity, he scored three by tricks. The next hand gave their opponents threepoints--two by honours, and the trick. Three all. 

The Vicar was heard to observe that, on the whole, intermarriage amongthe Islanders had not produced the disastrous effects usually predictedof it; and that, therefore, an infusion of fresh blood, at some datemore or less remote, might reasonably be conjectured, even thoughincapable of proof. 

The Vicar, as he said this, looked across at Mrs. Fossellinterrogatively. He was really expecting her to lead trumps, but shemistook him to be asking her assent to his theory. To keep the ballrolling, she opined that what had happened once need not necessarilyhappen again, especially in these days when locomotion was making suchstrides. She hazarded this in the lowest key; but it happened in justthat momentary hush upon which the faintest remark falls resonantly. The Commandant heard it across the room as he waited for Mr. Rogers tocut the cards; and the Vicar, by a freak of hearing, picked it up atonce. 

"My dear lady, " he demanded, "are you talking of progenitiveness!"

"N-no, " stammered Mrs. Fossell, in confusion. "Nothing of the sort. Iwas referring to the garrison here being left out of mind--like theregiment you spoke of----"

Miss Gabriel tapped the table impatiently. "Mr. Rogers, " she said, "Ithink we had better attend to the game. Major Vigoureux is waiting foryou to cut. " She said it with her eyes upon the Commandant's hand, which was trembling. He wondered, as he dealt, if she had observed thatit was trembling. If so, had she guessed the true reason?

The score mounted to nine-eight. The Commandant lifted a hand to hisbrow as Mr. Fossell, whose turn it was, took up the cards and began todeal methodically, without a trace of discomposure. 

"Half a crown! and if he lost, one penny left to last him to next payday!" A terrible thought seized him. "And what if, when he presentedhimself at Mr. Fossell's bank on pay-day, the money was notforthcoming?" Nonsense! He was unhinged. .. . The money had alwaysarrived punctually . .. But the whole world seemed to be in conspiracyagainst him to-night, and his luck along with it. 

Mr. Rogers, who had a trick of sorting out his suits between hisfingers, hesitated for a few moments, put his cards together, and withan air of fierce determination, led a small heart. 

Again the Commandant's right hand went up to his brow. The room wasvery close and still. But the Vicar remained unaware of the generalexcitement, and across the silence the Vicar was heard to sayconfidentially:--

"Between you and me there was a time when I hoped our friend theCommandant might make a match of it. "

The poor Commandant!. .. With his gaze fixed on the cards, he felt thatevery ear was listening, every eye turned upon him. He must dosomething desperate to break the horrible spell, to turn the luck. .. . He held ace, king, knave of hearts, and knew well enough that, in soundwhist he ought to play the king. But why had Mr. Rogers led hearts? Mr. Rogers did not often lead even from a strong suit unless it containedat least one honour. 

The Commandant risked it and finessed his knave. Miss Gabriel had beenwaiting, watching him intently. Her mouth shut almost with a snap oftriumph as she put down the queen. 

It was, as it happened, the one heart in her hand. She closed hertriumph, a few rounds later, by trumping the Commandant's ace and king. Mr. Fossell looked at his partner, in sorrow rather than in anger. Mr. Rogers laughed uproariously as he counted up the tricks. 

"Double or quits, I suppose?" he suggested. 

But the Commandant rose. "Your pardon, Miss Gabriel, " he said, layinghis half-crown on the table, "if I play no more for money to-night. Indeed, I was going to ask Mrs. Fossell to forgive me if I spoil one ofher quartettes by withdrawing. To tell the truth, I am not myself--aslight dizziness----"

"A glass of hot brandy-and-water?" suggested Mr. Fossell. "Nay, then, athimbleful--I insist!"

The Commandant made his excuses as politely as he could, and foundhimself in the street. The night was pitch-dark and the road full ofsea-fog--a fog so thick that it completely shut off the rays of themany lighthouses twinkling around the Islands, and obscured the fewstreet lamps that illuminated Garland Town. A slight breeze blew upfrom the west and damped his brow; for his dizziness had been somethingmore than a pretence, and he walked with his hat in his hand. 

On such a night a stranger might well have lost his way; but theCommandant steered for Garrison Hill without a mistake, and up the hilltowards the Barracks. Garland Town is early a-bed. He passed no one inthe streets. But in St. Hugh's, as he went by the closed door of acottage, half-way up the ascent, he recalled the night, years ago, ofhis first arrival in the Islands. He had come a week before thegarrison expected him, and there had been no one to meet him on thequay when he arrived in the dusk of an October evening. Darkness haddescended on the Islands before he started from the quay to climb tohis new home; and here--just here, at this doorway--he had paused toask his way. The door had stood open then, with a panel of warmfirelight lying across the roadway, and as he halted and peered intothe room--it was a kitchen, and the light from the open hearth glintedon rows of china plates ranged along the dresser--he saw two girlsbeside the fire; the one seated and reading from a book in her lap, theother on the hearth-mat half reclined against her sister's knee, overwhich she had flung an arm to prop her chin as she listened. .. . Heremembered the sand strewn on the slate floor, the fresh sea-smell inthis room so confidingly open to the night--the scene so intimate, sohomely, that the traveller standing in the doorway with the sea-sprayon his cloak could scarcely believe in the tide-races across which hehad been voyaging for hours. He stood, the hum of them in his ears, adoubtful intruder; and while he stood, the girl in the chair had risenand bade him good evening in purest English. 

"You have come by the boat? You will be from the mainland?" she said, and he wondered a little, not being used as yet to hear his countryspoken of as the mainland. "And I am going to England to-morrow, " sheadded. "The boat which brought you will take me over on its returnjourney. "

"You know England well, I expect?" He found himself saying this forlack of anything better. 

"She has never been outside the Islands, " said her sister, who also hadrisen. "And it is the same with me. But to-morrow she is going--" thegirl paused here, not it (seemed) in pain, but wistfully, as in a kindof solemn awe at the prospect. "We left the door open for father. Hehas a fancy to see the light across the road as he comes up the hill. But he is late to-night at the fishing. "

The Commandant, glancing around the room, divined--he could not tellwhy--that these girls were motherless. His eyes fell on the open bookwhich the elder sister laid on the chair as she rose. The firelightenabled him to read its page-heading, printed in thick, blunttype--"King Lear"! These girls, the one of them about to visit unknownEngland, were reading Shakespeare together. 

"_Urbem quam dicunt Romam_"--he felt a wild inclination to questionthem, to ask what they expected to learn of England from Shakespeare, and from that play of all others. But being a shy man, then as ever, heforbore, and contented himself with asking the way to the Barracks. 

They went with him to the door to direct him; and so, wishing themgood-night, he had gone up the hill. That was all. He had never seenthe elder sister again; did not know to this day what business hadtaken her away to the mainland, not to return. The younger had marrieda pilot, and was now the mother of a growing family in Saaron Island, which lies next to Brefar, which faces Inniscaw. Her farmstead there(the solitary one on the island), stood a short way above the landingquay; and once or twice, catching sight of her in her doorway andlifting his hat as he went by (for the Commandant was ever polite), hehad found it in his mind to stop and inquire after her sister. 

He had never translated this resolve into action. The Commandant--aseveryone knew on the Islands--was "desperate shy, " or "that shy you'dnever believe. " But the scene had bitten itself upon his memory, and herecalled it almost as often as he passed the door. He recalled itto-night, as he stumbled by it in the fog and uphill to his cheerlesslodgings. 

What a blind thing was life! blind even as this fog--and his home in itthese cheerless Barracks; to which nevertheless he must cling, in spiteof his honour, an old man, good for nothing, afraid to be found out! Hegroped his way to the front door, opened it with his latchkey, lit thecandle which Sergeant Archelaus had considerately placed at the foot ofthe stairs, and, climbing them to his bedroom, flung himself on hisknees by the bed. 

Now the architect of the Barracks had designed them upon a singularplan, of which the peculiar inconvenience was that almost every roomled to some other; which saved corridor space, but was fatal toprivacy. 

Beyond the Commandant's bedroom, which opened upon the first floorlanding of the main staircase, lay a room in which he kept his fishingclothes, and in which Sergeant Archelaus sometimes lit a fire to drythem by. 

It was a small room, well shielded from the draughts which ragedthrough the building in winter; and here Sergeant Archelaus had lit afire to-night and sat before it, sewing an artilleryman's stripe uponthe Commandant's cast dress trousers. 

Hearing a noise in the outer room, and not expecting his master'sreturn for at least a couple of hours, he hurried out in someperturbation, with the trousers flung across his arm--to find theCommandant kneeling at his devotions. 

"I beg your pardon, sir!"

"It's of no consequence, " said the Commandant, looking up (but he wasdesperately confused). "I--I always say my prayers, you know. "

"What? Before undressing?" said Sergeant Archelaus. 

CHAPTER IV

THE GUN IN THE GREAT FOG

Politely though he had contrived his departure, the Commandant leftMrs. Fossell's whist-party to something like dismay. A passingindisposition--no excuse could be more reasonable. Still, nothing ofthe kind had ever interrupted these gatherings within Mrs. Fossell'srecollection, and she could not help taking a serious view of it. 

"A passing indisposition, " was Mr. Fossell's phrase, and he keptrepeating it--with an occasional "Nonsense, my dear"--in answer to hiswife's gloomy forebodings. 

"But I shall send round, the first thing in the morning, to inquire, "she insisted. 

"Do so, my dear. "

"It can't be serious, ma'am, " Mr. Rogers assured her jollily. "Youheard him decline my arm when I offered to see him home. "

"In my opinion, " said Miss Gabriel, "the man is breaking up. " Shetouched her forehead lightly with the tip of her forefinger. 

"Breaking up?" echoed her host and Mrs. Pope, incredulous. "My dearElizabeth!" began Mrs. Fossell. 

"Breaking up, " Miss Gabriel repeated with a very positive nod of herhead. "He has not been the same man since the Lord Proprietor took overthe presidency of the Court and he refused, upon pique, to be electedan ordinary member. Say what you like, a man cannot be virtual Governorof the Islands one day and the next a mere nobody without its preyingupon him. "

"He made light of it at the time, " observed Mr. Fossell, who (it goeswithout saying) was councillor; "although I ventured to remonstratewith him. "

"And I, " said Mr. Pope, who (it also goes without saying) was another. "In the friendliest possible way you understand. I pointed out that theLord Proprietor was, after all, the Lord Proprietor, and, as such, didnot understand being thwarted. Very naturally, as you will all admit. "

"It's human nature, when you come to think of it, " put in the Steward'swife (she preferred the title of Steward to that of agent, and wasgradually accustoming society to the sound, even as in earlier years, when a young married woman, she had taught it to substitute "agent" for"factor"). If, during the interval when her husband's dismissal seemedinevitable, she had lost no opportunity of prophesying evil of the newLord Proprietor, she made up for it now by justifying his every action. 

"If that's the ground you're going on, " spoke up Mr. Rogers, who, withall his faults was nothing of a snob, "it's human nature for Vigoureuxto feel sore. As for the magistracy, he's not the man to value it onepin. It's the neglect; and to meet the old fellow mooning around hisbatteries as I did this very afternoon--I tell you it makes a mansorry. "

If this speech did Mr. Rogers credit he cancelled it presently by hisatrocious behaviour at cards. The symmetry of the party being broken, Miss Gabriel announced that she had enjoyed enough whist for theevening, and that nothing in the world would give her greater pleasurethan half-an-hour's quiet talk, with the Vicar--that was, if Mrs. Fossell and he would not mind cutting out and surrendering their seatsto Mr. Fossell and Mr. Rogers. In saying this she outrageouslyflattered the Vicar, with whom it was impossible to hold conversationin any tone below that of shouting. She meant that she was prepared tolisten; and she knew that no flattery was too outrageous for him toswallow. She knew also that Mrs. Fossell in her heart of heartsabhorred cards, and would be only too grateful for release, to lookafter the preparations for supper and scold the parlour-maid outside. So the Vicar and Mrs. Fossell cut out, and Mr. Fossell and Mr. Rogersreplaced them as partners against Mr. And Mrs. Pope. 

Mr. And Mrs. Pope always played together. No one knew why, but it hadcome to be an understood thing. Of "calls" and "echoes" the play of Mr. And Mrs. Pope was innocent; but when Mrs. Pope, being second hand, hesitated whether to trump her opponent's card or pass it, Mr. Pope hadan unconscious habit of saying, "Now dearest, " when he desired her totrump; and another unconscious habit, when Mrs. Pope had the lead andhe wanted trumps, of murmuring, "Your turn, darling. " These two habitsMr. Rogers had noted; and being in merry pin to-night over winning hishalf-crown, at a moment when Mr. Fossell, having the lead, appeared tohesitate (but the hesitation was only a part of Mr. Fossell'sdeliberate play), he leaned over and playfully suggested, "Your turn, darling!"

Mr. Fossell stared in the act of putting down a trump. For a moment heappeared to think that Mr. Rogers had gone mad; then, in spite ofhimself, the lines of his mouth relaxed. 

"I do not think, " said Mr. Pope, heavily--and the lines of Mr. Fossell's mouth at once grew rigid again--"I do not think you two oughtto signal for trumps in that fashion. "

His partner looked up innocently. In the slow pause Mr. Rogers wasgrowing purple in the face, when again the Vicar's voice broke acrossthe silence. "The Lord Proprietor's power in former days--I speak onlyof former days--may well have warranted the Government in stationing amilitary officer here to keep some check on him. For instance, heshared all ordinary wrecks with the Lord High Admiral, but a wreckbecame his sole property by law, if none of the crew remained alive; adangerous reservation, ma'am, in times when justice travelled slowly, and much might happen in the Islands and never a word of it reachLondon. "

Miss Gabriel put up both hands--they were encased in mittens, and themittens decorated with steel beads--as if to close her ears. 

"We must be thankful, indeed, " she began, and paused in dismay as thefloor of Mrs. Fossell's drawing-room trembled under her, and at thesame moment the window sashes rattled violently throughout the house. 

"Good Heavens!"

"What was that?"

The players dropped their cards. All listened. 

"Upon my word, " suggested the Vicar, who had heard nothing, but feltthe concussion, "if it weren't positively known to be empty one wouldsay the powder magazine at the Garrison----"

"Oh, Richard! Richard!"--here Mrs. Fossell came running in from thedining-room with a dish of trifle in her hands--"Is it an earthquake?"

"I--I rather think not, my dear!"

"At any rate it can't be the end of the world?" She turned and appealedto the Vicar, and from the Vicar again to her husband. "And if it isnot, I wish you would come to Selina, for she has dropped the coldshape all over the floor and is having hysterics in the better of thetwo armchairs!"

Indeed, Selina's hysterics could be heard. 

"Earthquake? Fiddlesticks, ma'am!" said Mr. Rogers, buttoning hispea-jacket and turning up its collar. "What you heard was a gun. Thereis a vessel in distress somewhere, and we shall have my men here in amoment with news of her. "

"But there was no sound, " objected Mrs. Pope. 

"Fog, ma'am--fog; sound don't travel in a fog, and ships oughtn't to. There has been a nasty bank of it to the south'ard ever since morning, and you may bet that's the mischief. "

He went into the hall for his lantern, brought it back, lit it, andcarried it out to the front door. 

"Whe--ew!" he whistled, as he opened the door and stood, with lanternlifted high, staring into the night. 

The guests behind him wondered; for all was quiet outside--too quiet, to ears accustomed to the wind which forever sings across the islands, even on summer days, mingling its whispers and soft murmurings with thehum of the distant tide-races. But while they wondered, Mr. Rogers'sfigure grew vague and amorphous in a cloud of fog that drifted past himinto the passage. The light in his lantern had turned to a weak flameof yellow, and seemed on the point of dying out. 

"Ahoy, there! Is that Mr. Rogers?" called a thin voice out of thenight. 

"Ahoy! Mr. Rogers, it is. What's wrong?"

"Thank God I've found you!" The voice sounded suddenly quite close athand, and a man blundered against the doorstep. 

"Eh?"--the others saw Mr. Rogers give back in astonishment--"The LordProprietor?"

"Safe and sound, too, by Heaven's mercy, " said the Lord Proprietor, plucking off his peaked cap and shaking the water from it. He carried alantern, and his jacket and loose trousers of yellow oilskin shone withthe wet like a suit of mail. "All the way from Inniscaw I've come, inthe gig. Peter Hicks and old Abe pulled me, and the Lord knows where wemade land or what has become of them. Man, there's a vessel ashore--aliner, they say! Didn't you hear the gun a minute since?"

"Yes, yes; but where is she?"

"That's more than I know. Somewhere among the Off Islands; on theTerrier, maybe, or the Hell-meadows. All I can tell you is that old Abebrought the news to the Priory, almost three hours ago: his son-in-law, young Ashbran, had seen her in a lift of the fog--a powerful steamshipwith two funnels and a broad white band upon each. She hadn't struckwhen he saw her; but she was nosing into an infernal mess of rocks, andthe light closing down fast. I didn't see Ashbran himself; Abe believedhe had put across to warn your men. But as the old man couldn't swearto it I told him to get out the gig and fetch Peter Hicks, and so westarted. "

"I'm wondering why those men of mine haven't brought me warning. Ashbran can't have reached them. "

"He started late, belike, and lost his way in the fog; or it's evenpossible--though you won't believe it--that your men started to findyou and have lost themselves. My good sir, you never knew such a fog!"

"Yet I left word with the chief boatman, " mused Mr. Rogers. "He knowsperfectly well where I am. "

"Does he?" said the Lord Proprietor. "Then it's more than I do. Whathouse is this?"

"Why, Fossell's. Good Lord! didn't you know?"

"My dear Sir Cęsar--" Mr. Fossel stepped forward solicitously. 

"Eh? So it is. .. . Good evening, Mr. Fossell! That picture of theWaterloo Banquet seemed familiar, somehow. " The Lord Proprietor noddedtowards a framed engraving on the wall. "Yes, to be sure--andLandseer's 'Twa Dogs. ' But this is worse than the Arabian Nights! Wemust have missed the harbour by miles!"

"You came ashore at Cam Point, most probably, " Mr. Fossell suggested. "The tide sets that way, and from Cam Point it is but a step. "

"A step, is it? Man, I've been wandering in blank darkness for a fullhour. Twice I've found myself on the edge of a cliff. I've followedwalls only to be led into open fields. I've struck across open fields, only to tumble against troughs, midden heaps, pig-styes. I walkedstraight up against this house, supposing myself somewhere near thebatteries on Garrison Hill--though how I had managed to miss the townwas more than I could explain. "

"The wonder is you ever fetched across from Inniscaw. "

"It's my belief we had never done it, but for the tide. The night wasblack as your hat when we started, but fairly clear. We kept sight ofthe lamp on the pier-head until half-way across. Then the fog camedown; and then----!"

"Well, it's good hard causeway between this and St. Hugh's, " said Mr. Rogers. "We can't miss it. Afterwards. .. . However, you'll step alongwith me to the Guard-house, Sir Cęsar, and as soon as the weather liftsat all one of my men shall put you back to Inniscaw. "

"On the contrary, my good sir, I go with you. "

Mr. Rogers looked at him, as he buttoned up his pea-jacket. 

"We won't argue it here, " he said. "You don't guess what it means, though, searching for a wreck among the Off Islands on a night likethis. Not to mention that there's a sea running. .. . "

And yet, apart from the fog, there was nothing in the weather tosuggest shipwreck and horrors. For a fortnight the Islands had lainsteeped in the sunshine of Indian summer; a fortnight of still starrynights and days almost without a cloud. As a rule, such weather breaksup in a gale, of which the glass gives timely warning. But the mercuryin Mr. Fossell's barometer indicated no depression--or the meresttrifle. The drenched night air was warm: to Miss Gabriel, inhaling itin the passage by the drawing-room door, it seemed to be laden with thescents of summer, and Miss Gabriel had not lived all her life inGarland Town without learning the subtle aromas of the wind, todistinguish those that were harmless or beneficent from those thatwarned, those that threatened, those that were morose, savage, malignant, those that piped a note of madness and meant a hurricane. Nor did the fog in itself appear to her very formidable. To be sure, she had never known a thicker one; but the Lord Proprietor (saving hispresence) had probably exaggerated its terror. He was--let this excusebe made for him--a landsman, comparatively new to the Islands. 

Probably Mr. Fossell and Mr. Pope and the Vicar took the same view. Thenews of the wreck had excited them, and they were offering to accompanySir Cęsar and Mr. Rogers to St. Hugh's Town, on the chance of someinformation. 

"And we had best go with them, my dear, " suggested Miss Gabriel to Mrs. Pope. (Their houses stood side by side and contiguous, on a gentle riseat the foot of Garrison Hill, where the peninsular of New Town broadensout and New Town itself melts into St. Hugh's. )

Mrs. Fossel begged them to wait and keep her company until thegentlemen returned. "It is impossible, " she urged as an inducement, "that Selina can go on making this noise forever. "

But Miss Gabriel had taken her decision, and from a decision MissGabriel was not easily turned. 

"My dear, " said she, reaching for her cloak, "the gentlemen may notreturn until goodness knows when, and I have a prejudice against latehours. "

They started in a body. The fog, to be sure, was a deal worse than everMiss Gabriel could have credited. Still, the gentlemen using theirlanterns and tapping to right and left with their sticks, they foundthe hard causeway, and blundered along it towards St. Hugh's, theladies with their shawls drawn over their heads and their heads helddown against the drifting wall of moisture. 

They had made their way thus for about four hundred yards--that is tosay, about a third of the length of the causeway--when suddenly the fogahead of them became luminous, and they perceived torches waving. 

"Mr. Rogers! Is that Mr. Rogers?" called a voice. 

"Ay, ay, men!" Mr. Rogers hailed in answer, recognising his coastguard. "I am coming--fast as I can, " he added, having at that moment run intoa wall. 

"A wreck, sir!"

"Ay! Where is it?"

"Somewhere beyond St. Ann's, sir, as we make it--out towards the Monk. There was a gun fired, and Dick, here, thinks as he saw the lighthousesend up a signal; but lights there's none that the rest of us can makeout----"

"Hark!"

Again the fog shook with the concussion of a gun. 

"Due west, as I make it out, " said Mr. Rogers. "Are the boats ready?"

"Aye, sir; the jolly-boat manned and off, and the gig launched andlying by the slip. "

"Then run, men!"

"Why, they've left us!" gasped Mrs. Pope, as the glare of the torchesmelted into the fog. 

"It doesn't matter, " Miss Gabriel assured her bravely. "We have only tokeep straight on. "

CHAPTER V

THE S. S. MILO

Major Vigoureux fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched thepillow. He owed this habit originally to a clear conscience, andalthough (as the reader knows) his conscience was no longer quiteclear, the habit had not forsaken him. 

He dreamed that he was presenting himself at Mr. Fossell's bank, andgiving Mr. Fossell across the counter a number of plausible reasons whyhis pay should be handed to him as usual. He knew all the while thathis arguments were sophistical and radically unsound; but he trustedthat he was making them cogent. (Why is it that in dreams we feel noremorse for our sins, but only a terror lest we be found out? I cannottell; but the best men and women of my acquaintance agree that it isso. ) Mr. Fossell preserved an impassive, inscrutable face; but everytime the Commandant ventured a new argument Mr. Fossell's high, baldhead twinkled and suddenly changed colour like a chameleon. It wasgreen, it was violet, it was bathed in a soft roseate glow like anAlpine peak at sunset; and still while he argued the Commandant wasforced to dodge his body about lest Mr. Fossell should catch sight of amirror fixed in the opposite wall, and perceive how strangely his scalpwas behaving. Finally, Mr. Fossell turned as if convinced, walked awayto an inner room, and came back bearing a bag of money, round anddistended--so tightly distended, indeed, that the Commandant called outto him to be careful of the contents. But the cry came a moment toolate; for the bag, as it touched the counter, exploded with a dullreport, collapsed, and flattened itself out into a playing-card--thequeen of hearts!

At this point the Commandant excusably found himself awake, and sat upblinking at Sergeant Archelaus, who stood in a haze of fog by hisbedside with a lighted candle. 

"You heard it?" asked Sergeant Archelaus. 

"Heard it?" echoed the Commandant, trembling, not yet in fullpossession of his senses. "Of course, I heard it. The Bank--. " Here hechecked himself and rubbed his eyes. 

"You're dreaming; that's what's the matter with you, " said SergeantArchelaus, using the familiarity of an old servant. "There's a ship onthe rocks. "

"A ship? Where?"

The Sergeant, candle in hand, stepped to the casement, which theCommandant, following his custom, had opened a little way beforegetting into bed. 

"Lord knows where she be by this time, if St. Ann's pilots ha'n't foundher. The gun sounded from west'ard, down by the Monk. "

"Fog, is it?" asked the Commandant, staring about him and remembering. 

"Fog it is, " answered Sergeant Archelaus, and added, "Poor souls!"

"Thick?" By this time the Commandant had flung back the bed-clothes andwas thrusting his feet into his worn slippers. 

"I never seen a thicker in my born days. "

"If we had a gun----"

"Ah--if, " agreed Sergeant Archelaus, curtly, and turning, let his voicerise in a sudden passion. "Why did I wake ye? Set it down to habit. I've known the time when the sound of a gun would have fetched fortymen out of the Barracks to save life or to take it; and a gun withinthirty seconds to alarm all the Islands. But we! What's the use of us?"

"Get on your coat, " said the Commandant, sharply, putting on histrousers. "Get on your coat and run to the bell--that is, ifTreacher----"

But at this moment the muffled note of a bell began to sound throughthe fog, vindicating Treacher's vigilance. Treacher, however, was notthe ringer. The Commandant had scarcely slipped on his fatigue jacket, and begun to search in the wardrobe for his overcoat, when Treacher'svoice sounded up the staircase, demanding to know if the garrison wasawake. 

"Awake?" called back Archelaus. "Of course we be, and coming before youcan sound th' alarm. Reach down the bugle, man--from the rock behindth' door, there--and sound it. "

Treacher sounded. He was out of breath, and the two high notes quaveredbroken-windedly; but the Commandant's chest swelled with something ofold pride. The alarm would reach the town, and the town would know thatthe garrison had not been caught napping. He snatched at the candlefrom the candlestick in Sergeant Archelaus' hand and rammed it into thesocket of a horn lantern he had unhooked from the cupboard. 

"Come along, men! Keep sounding, Treacher--keep sounding!"

Even so he had called once--a many years ago--in the trenches under theRedan. Treacher sounded obediently, and down the hill all threestaggered--past the garrison gates, with a call to Mrs. Treacher topull for all she was worth--and still forward among the ruts and loosestones, all so familiar that relying on tread alone (as in fact theydid) they could not miss their way. Below them, along the quay, and onthe causeway at the head of it--voices were calling and lights moving;but the fog reduced the shouts to a twitter, as of birds, and thetorches and lantern to mere glow-worm sparks. The coastguards wereembarking and the Lord Proprietor, just arrived upon the scene, wasrunning about--as Sergeant Archelaus put it afterwards, "like a paperman in a cyclone"--calling out the names of volunteers for thelifeboat. 

If Sergeant Archelaus ever afterwards spoke disparagingly of the LordProprietor's activities that night, something may be forgiven him; assomething may be forgiven the Lord Proprietor--for on such occasionsmen blurt out what rises to their lips. 

The fog had found its way into Treacher's bugle before our three heroesreached the quay; but he continued to blow his best; and there, at theend of the causeway, Sir Cęsar ran into them--ran straight into theCommandant, almost knocking out his breath--calling, as he ran, forsomeone to take bow oar in the lifeboat. 

"Will I do?" asked Sergeant Archelaus, coolly, as became a soldier. 

"You?" The Lord Proprietor thrust his torch close. "Oh, get out of myway--this is work to-night, work for men! And you"--catching sight ofthe Commandant--"how much do you think you are helping us with thistom-fool noise?"

The Commandant drew himself erect, but before he could answer, the LordProprietor had gone his way, waving his torch and still shouting forsomeone to man the bow thwart. 

There was a slow pause. 

"Can you get to our boat, Archelaus?" asked the Commandant. The twosergeants heard his voice drag on the question. They could not see hisface. 

"She's afloat, sir, " answered Sergeant Archelaus. 

"Find the frap then, and pull her in. "

"Is it our boat you're meaning, sir?" asked Archelaus, hesitating. 

"Certainly. "

"There's a certain amount of sea running, sir, out beyond the point. "

"I observed as much this evening. "

"Very good, sir. " Something in the Commandant's voice forbade furtherargument. 

They were afloat almost as soon as the coastguard, and a full fiveminutes before the life-boat. Sergeant Archelaus pulled stroke, andSergeant Treacher bow. The Commandant steered, his lantern and pocketcompass beside him in the stern sheets. 

The boat--she had once been a yacht's cutter--measured sixteen feetover all. She was fitted with a small centre-plate, and carried a lugsail (but this they left behind; it was in store, and would have beenworse than useless). They pulled out into a fog so thick that only byintervals could the Commandant catch sight of Sergeant Treacher's face, and Sergeant Treacher's eyebrows and sandy moustache glistering withbeads of mist. 

They had left the pier but a short two hundred strokes behind them whenthe little tug belonging to the Islands came panting out of the harbourwith the lifeboat in tow, and passed on, blowing her whistle, toovertake and pick up the coastguard galley. So unexpectedly her lightssprang upon them, and so close astern that Treacher, with a sharp cryof warning--for the Commandant's gaze was fastened forward--had barelytime to jerk the boat's head round and avoid being cut down. Then, dropping his paddle, he made a grab at the painter and flung it, calling out to the lifeboat's crew to catch and make fast. But eitherhe was a moment too late in flinging, or the lifeboatmen, themselvesbawling instructions to the tug's crew, were preoccupied and did nothear. The rope struck against something--the lifeboat's gunwaledoubtless--but no one caught it, and next moment the tug had slippedaway into darkness and into a silence which swallowed up the shouts andthe throb of her engines as though she had dropped into a pit. 

"Darn your skin, Sam Treacher!" swore Sergeant Archelaus. "There goes acouple of hours' pulling you might have saved us!"

"Then why couldn't you have given warning?" retorted Treacher. "Prettypair of eyes you keep in that old head of yours!"

"Be quiet, you two!" the Commandant ordered. "They'd have caught thepainter if they wanted us. "

He fell silent, bending his head to study the compass in the lantern'sray. "Not wanted"--"not wanted"--the paddles took up the burden andbeat it into a sort of tune to the creak of the thole-pins. As a youngofficer he had started with high notions of duty; nor, looking back onthe wasted years could he tax himself that he had ever declined itscall; only the call which in youth had always carried a promise withit, definitely clear and shining, of enterprise and reward, ofadventure, achievement, fame, had sunk by degrees to a dull repetitioncalling him from sleep to perform the spiritless daily round. He didnot sigh that the definite vision had faded; it happened so, may be, tomost men, though not to all. To most men, it might be, their fateplayed the crimp; they followed the marsh-fires out into just such ablind waste as this through which he and his men were groping--darknessabove and below; darkness before, behind, to right, to left; darknessof birth, of death, and only the palpable fog between. He did not sighfor this. What irked him was the thought that while he had followed themill-round of duty, strength had been ebbing away and had left himuseless. 

Yes, there lay the sting. Twenty years ago how like a schoolboy hewould have dashed into this fog, careless of consequence, eager only tofind where men needed his help! He might have found, or missed; buttwenty years ago men would have hailed his will to help. Now he wasuseless, negligible. In an ordinary way these neighbours of his mightdisguise their knowledge, through politeness or pity; but at a crisislike this the truth came out. The Lord Proprietor had treated him as apantaloon, and these lifeboatmen--so little they valued him--could notbe at the pains of catching a rope. 

He steered, as nearly as he could calculate, west-by-south, allowing ata guess for the set of the tide. The wall of fog, which let pass notrue sound, itself seemed full of voices--hissing of spent waves, sucking of water under weed-covered ledges, little puffs and moaningsof the wind. He had reckoned that he was bending around shore to thesouth of the roadstead, heading gradually for St. Lide's Sound andgiving the rocks on his port hand a wide berth; when of a suddenArchelaus called out, and he spied a grey line of breakingwater--luckily the sea was full of briming to-night--at the base of thefog, quite close at hand. It scared them so that they headed off almostat right angles. This adventure not only proved his reckoning to bewrong, but complicated it hopelessly. 

They were in open water again, still making--or at any rate the boat sopointed--west-by-south. The short scare had shaken him out of hisbrooding thoughts. He saw now, minute after minute, but the sea beyondthe edge of the boat's gunwale, heaving up and sliding astern as itcaught the shine of the lantern. The lantern shone also against theknees of Archelaus, and lit up the check-board pattern of theeleemosynary trousers. It was a provocative pattern, but the Commandantheeded it not. .. . 

He looked up from Sergeant Archelaus' knees to Sergeant Archelaus'face, and past it to the face of Sergeant Treacher, now a little moredistinct. The two men had been pulling for an hour, and the Commandantsaw that they were tired--tired and very old. He recognised it at firstwith a touch of anger. He felt an instant's impulse to curse and bidthem row harder. But on the instant came gentle understanding, andrestrained him. 

"Archelaus, " he said, "you are the older; take the tiller here and giveme the oar for a spell. "

Archelaus was not unwilling. Besides, was it not his commanding officerwho gave the order? He relinquished his paddle with a grunt ofexhaustion, and the Commandant stood up to take it, laying both handson it while Archelaus stumbled past to the stern-sheets. .. . And at thatmoment a miracle befell. 

The fog must have been thinning. The Commandant, standing with bothhands on the paddle and his face to the bows, saw or felt it partsuddenly, and through the parting lights shone and voices sounded, withthe heavy throb of a vessel's screw. 

Clank! clank! and it was on them, almost before Sergeant Archelauscould let out a cry--the stem, the grey-painted bows of a vaststeamship, ghostly, towering up into night. A bell rang. High on thebridge--but the bridge soared into heaven--a pilot's voice called outin the Island tongue. As the great bows glided by, missing the boat bya few yards, the three men stared aloft until they had almost crickedtheir necks; and aloft there, as Archelaus raised his lantern, theCommandant read the vessel's name--"Milo"--glimmering in tall giltletters. 

Faces looked down from her rail, faces from the shadow of thehurricane' deck; a line of faces and all looking down upon the littleIsland tug that had fallen alongside and drifted close under theliner's flank, a short way abaft her red port-light. A murmur of talkwent with the faces, as it were a stream rippling by, and mingled withthe splash of water pouring over-side from the pumps. It soundedcheerfully, and from the voices on board the tug and in the lifeboatand galley towing astern our Commandant gathered that the danger wasover. Again Sergeant Treacher hailed and flung a rope; this time thelifeboat's crew caught it and made fast. 

"Reub Hicks is aboard, " said a voice, naming one of the St. Ann'spilots. "He picked her up not twenty furlongs from Hell-deeps after shehad missed the Little Meadows by the skin of her teeth. "

"How in the name of good Providence she got near enough to miss it, being where she was, is the marvel to me, " said another. 

"She did, anyway, " said the coxswain; "for Reub himself called down thenews to me in so many words. "

The Commandant gazed up at the gray shadow reaching aloft intodarkness. He knew those outer reefs of which the men spoke. A touch ofthem would have split the plates of this tall fabric like a house ofcards. He and Archelaus had witnessed one such wreck, eight years ago;had waited in broad daylight, helpless, resting on their oars, unableto approach within a cable's length of the rocks, upon which in tenminutes a steel-built five-master, of 1, 200 tons, had melted to nothingbefore their eyes--"the rivets, " as Archelaus put it, "flying out ofher like shirt buttons. " But that had happened on one of the outermostreefs, beyond the Off Islands, far down by the Monk Light. How the_Milo_, no matter from what quarter approaching, had threaded her wayby the Hell-deeps was to him a mystery of mysteries. She was groping ityet, her engines working dead slow; but the fog during the past hourhad sensibly lightened and Reub Hicks held open water between him andthe Roads, though he still kept the lead going. At the entrance of theRoads he sent the tug forward to help the steerage, and so brought herin and rounded her up as accurately as though she had been a littleschooner of two hundred tons. 

As the great anchor dropped, and amid the deafening rattle of its chainin the hawse-pipe, the crew astern cast off and drew their boatsalongside, eager to swarm aboard and hear news of the miracle. From hisgalley Mr. Rogers shouted up to the captain to lower his ladder. He andhis chief boatman mounted first, with a little man named Pengelly, acustom's official, who happened to make one of the lifeboat's crew--forthe _Milo_ had come from foreign, and thus a show was made of complyingwith the Queen's regulations. But the whole crowd trooped up close attheir heels, and with the crowd clambered Sergeant Archelaus andSergeant Treacher. 

The Commandant had given them permission. He would remain below, hesaid, and look after the boat, awaiting their report. 

The crowd passed up and dispersed itself about the deck, congratulatingall comers, and excitedly plying them with questions. The Islanders area child-like race, and from his post at the foot of the desertedaccommodation ladder the Commandant could hear them laughing, exclaiming, chattering with the passengers in high-pitched voices. 

He stood with his boat-hook, holding on by the grating of the ladder'slowest step, and stared at the gray wall-sides of the liner. Yes, theship was solid, and yet he could not believe but that she belonged to adream; so mysteriously, against all chances, was she here, out of thedeep and the night. 

Someone had lashed a lantern at the head of the ladder. Lifting hiseyes to it in the foggy darkness, the Commandant saw a solitary figurestanding there in the gangway and looking down on him--a woman. 

She lifted a hand as if to enjoin silence, and came swiftly down a stepor two in the shadow of the vessel's side. 

"You are Major Vigoureux?" she asked in a quick whisper, leaningforward over him. 

"At your service, madam, " he stammered, taken fairly aback. 

"Ah! I am glad of that!" She ran down the remaining steps and set herfoot lightly on the boat's gunwale. "You will row me ashore?"

"If you wish it, madam. " He was more puzzled than ever. He saw that shewore a dark cloak of fur and was bare-headed. She spoke in a sort ofmusical whisper. Her face he could not see. "In a minute or two mymen----"

"We will not wait for your men, " she said, quietly, seating herself inthe stern sheets. "They can easily be put ashore--can they not?--in oneof the other boats. "

From under her fur cloak she reached out an arm--a bare arm with twojewelled bracelets--and took the tiller. "I can steer you to the quay, "she said, and leaning forward in the light of Sergeant Archelaus'lantern, she lifted her eyes to the Commandant. 

The Commandant pushed off, shipped the paddles into the thole pins, andbegan to row, as in a dream. 

CHAPTER VI

HOW VASHTI CAME TO THE ISLANDS

"You do not remember me, Major Vigoureux?"

The Commandant looked at her, across the lantern's ray. Something inher voice, vibrating like the rich, full note of a bell, touched hismemory . .. But only to elude it. 

The face that challenged him was not girlish; the face, rather, of abeautiful woman of thirty; its shape a short oval, with a slightsquareness at the point of the jaw to balance the broad forehead overwhich her hair (damp now, but rippled with a natural wave, defying thefog) lay parted in two heavy bands--the brow of a goddess. Her eyes, too, would have become a goddess, though just now they condescended tobe merry. 

Tall she was, for certain, and commanding. Her cloak hid the lines ofher body, whether they were thin or ample; but, where the collaropened, her throat showed like a pillar, carrying her chin upon a trulynoble poise. It was inconceivable (the Commandant said to himself) thathe had met this woman before and forgotten her. 

He came back to her eyes. They challenged him fearlessly. He could nothave described their colour; but he saw amusement lurking deep in theirglooms while she waited. 

"I am sorry. It is unpardonable in me, of course----"

"And I, on the contrary, am glad, " she interrupted, with a laugh thatreminded him of the liquid chuckle in a thrush's song, or of waterswirling down a deep pool; "for it tells me I have grown out ofrecognition, and that is just what I wanted. "

This puzzled him, and he frowned a little. 

"You know the Islands?" he asked. "This is not your first visit?"

"You shall judge if in this darkness I steer you straight for St. Lide's Quay; and I take you to witness--look over your shoulder--thereis no lamp on the quay-head to guide me, or at least none visible. " Shelaughed again, but on the instant grew serious. "Yes, " she added, "Ican find my way among the Islands, I thank God. " And this puzzled himyet more. 

"You know the Islands; you are glad to return to them?"

She nodded. 

"Yet you do not wish to be recognised?"

She nodded again. "I came, you see, sooner than I intended. The _Milo_was clean out of her course. "

"That goes without saying, " said he, gravely. 

"She was bound for Plymouth. So, you see, this little misadventure hasshortened my journey by days. " She paused. "No; I ought not to speak ofit flippantly. I shall be very thankful in my prayers to-night . .. Allthose women and children. .. . "

Again she paused. 

"Is my hand trembling?" she asked, lifting it and laying it again onthe tiller, where it rested firm as a rock. Only the jewels quivered onher rings and bracelets, and their beauty, arresting the Commandant'sgaze, held him silent. 

"To be frank with you, " she went on, "I left the ship in a hurry, because I was afraid of being thanked. I don't like publicity--much;and just now it would have spoiled everything. " This explanationenlightened the Commandant not at all. "Besides, " she added with apractical air, "I left a note with my maid, to be given to the captain;so he won't imagine that I've tumbled overboard; and she can send myboxes ashore to-morrow, if you will be kind enough to fetch them beforethe _Milo_ weighs. "

"But, meanwhile?" he hazarded. 

"Oh, meanwhile, I must manage somehow for the night. I slipped a fewthings into my hand-bag here. " She drew her fur cloak a little aside, and displayed it--a small satchel hanging from her waist by a silverchain. The Commandant had a glimpse at the same moment of a skirt ofrose-coloured silk, brocaded in a pattern of silver. 

"And when we land, " he asked, "where am I to take you?"

"I am in your hands. "

He stared at her, dismayed. "But you have friends?"

"None who would remember me; not a soul, at least, in St. Lide's. "

"There is the Plume of Feathers Inn, to be sure----"

"If you recommend it, " she said, demurely, as he hesitated. 

He almost lost his temper. "Recommend it? Of course I don't. "

"Well, from what I remember of the Plume of Feathers--unless it hasaltered----"

"Wouldn't it be wiser to turn back?" he suggested, desperately, staringinto the fog, in which the lights of the _Milo_ had long sincedisappeared. 

"What? When we have this moment opened the quay-light? There!. .. Didn'tI promise you that I knew my way among the Islands?"

In the basin of the harbour the fog lay thicker than in the roads, andthey had scarcely made sure that this was indeed the quay-light beforetheir boat grated against the landing-steps of the quay itself. TheCommandant, after he had shipped his oars and checked the way on her, pressing both hands against the dripping wall, put up one of them andpassed the back of it slowly across his forehead. He was considering;and, while he considered, his companion stepped lightly ashore. "Forgive me, " he pleaded, recollecting himself. "At least, I shouldhave offered you my hand. "

"Thank you, I did not need it. "

"But listen, please, " he protested, scrambling out upon the steps, painter in hand, and groping for a ring-bolt. "You cannot possibly staythe night at the Plume of Feathers----"

He heard her laugh, as he stooped, having found the ring, to make fastthe rope. 

"Commandant, have you ever travelled across Wyoming--in winter, in awaggon? Very well, then; I have. "

"Surely not in the clothes you are wearing?" The Commandant, as any onein the Council of Twelve could tell you, was no debater; yet sometimeshe had been known to triumph even in debate, by sheer simplicity. "Theonly course that I can see, " he continued, "is to seek some privatehouse, and throw ourselves upon the--er--"

"Front door?" she suggested, mischievously. 

"--hospitality--upon the hospitality of the inmates. To them, ofcourse, I can explain the situation----"

"Can you?"

The Commandant stood for a moment peering at her, and rubbing the backof his head--a trick of his in perplexity. "Upon my word, now you cometo mention it, " he confessed, "I don't know that I can. "

"Whom shall we try first? Miss Gabriel?" ("Now, how in the world, "wondered the Commandant, "does she know anything of Miss Gabriel?")"Very well; we go together to Alma Cottage--she still lives at AlmaCottage?--and knock. The hour is two in the morning, or thereabouts. Miss Gabriel, overcoming her first fear of robbery or murder, willparley with us from her bedroom window. To her you introduce me, by thelight of your lantern; a strange female in an evening frock; a femalegrossly overladen with jewels (that, I think, would be Miss Gabriel'sway of putting it), but without a portmanteau. "

"We might try the Popes, next door, " suggested the Commandantflinching. "Mr. Pope is a man of the world. "

"Is he?" she asked, after a pause, in which he felt that she struggledwith some inward mirth. "But we cannot so describe Mrs. Pope, can we?Also we cannot knock up Mr. And Mrs. Pope without disturbing MissGabriel next door. "

"Nor, for that matter, can we knock up Miss Gabriel without disturbingMr. And Mrs. Pope. "

"Quite so; we may reckon that all three will be listening. Therefore, when Mr. Pope or Miss Gabriel (as the case may be) begins by demandingmy name--which, by an oversight, you have forgotten to ask----"

"Pardon me, " said the Commandant, simply, "I did not forget. I waited, supposing that if you wished me to know it, you would tell me. "

"Ah!" she drew close to him, with a happy exclamation. "Then I was notmistaken: You are the man I have counted to find. .. . And you are abrave man, too. But we will not push bravery too far and disturb MissGabriel. "

"If you can suggest a better plan----"

"A far better plan. I suggest that you offer me a room to-night at thegarrison. "

"My dear madam!" the Commandant gasped. 

"It will be far better in every way, " she went on composedly; that is, if you are willing. To begin with, you have rooms and to spare. Next, there will be no bother in introducing me, except to Mrs. Treacher. "

"Ah, to be sure, there is Mrs. Treacher!" the Commandant murmured. "But, madam, all the rooms in the Castle are unfurnished, ruinous, andhave been ruinous for fifty years. The Treachers occupy the only two inwhich it were possible to swing a cat. "

"Then we must borrow Mrs. Treacher and take her along to the Barracksfor chaperon. You may leave it to me to persuade her. "

Without waiting for his answer she ran lightly up the steps, the heelsof her rose-coloured satin shoes twinkling in the light of theCommandant's lantern as he blundered after her. 

The pavement of the quay had not been laid for satin shoes. Muchtraffic had worn the surface into depressions, and these depressionswere fast collecting water from the drenched air. But although the foglay almost as thick here as at the foot of the steps, she picked herway among these pitfalls, avoiding them as though by instinct. Beyondthe quay came a cobbled causeway; and beyond the causeway a narrowstreet wound up towards the garrison gate. Past rains, pouring down thehill, had worn a deep rut along this street, ploughing it here andthere to the native rock, zig-zagging from centre to side of theroadway and back again obedient to the trend of the slope. But over thecauseway, and up the channelled street she found her footing with thesame confidence, steering far more cleverly than the Commandant, whofollowed as in a dream, amazed, oppressed with forebodings. It was allvery well for her to talk lightly of persuading Mrs. Treacher. If shecould, why then she must be possessed of a secret as yet unrevealed toMrs. Treacher's husband after thirty-odd years of married life. TheCommandant, too, knew something of Mrs. Treacher . .. An obstinatewoman, not to say pig-headed. 

Was she a witch--this stranger in silk and jewels who walked indarkness so confidently up the tortuous unpaved street?--thisapparition who, coming out of the seas and the dumb fog, talked of theIslands and the Islanders as though she had known them all her life?

As if to prove she was a witch, she paused before the very cottagewhich once already to-night had given pause to his steps and to histhoughts. The fog had been thinning little by little as they mountedthe hill, and at a few paces' distance he recognized the closed door, daubed over with that same staring paint which your true Islander usesfor choice upon his boat. 

"You remember this door?" she asked, pointing to it as he overtook her. 

Witch she might be, but why should he give away to her this innocentsmall secret?

"Of course I remember it, " he answered; "passing it as I do, half-a-dozen times a day. "

"Yes, " she said, almost as if speaking to herself; but her voice, forthe first time since their meeting, seemed to be touched with a faintshade of dejection. "Naturally you would not remember it for any otherreason. "

He was silent. 

"Yet, " she went on, "you really ought to remember that door, MajorVigoureux, if only for old sake's sake; for it was, I believe, thefirst you entered when you came to the Islands. That was in theyear----"

"Never mind the year, " interrupted the Commandant, hastily. "I rememberit well. I almost never pass the door without remembering it. "

"Ah!" she cried, putting her jewelled hands together, and theCommandant took it for an exclamation of triumph at her cleverness. "But other tenants have the house. The man who was master of it isdead. "

"You know everything, it seems to me. Yes; he was a widower, and latethat evening at the fishing. It was an evening when he should not havebeen late; for the door stood open for him, and his daughters--he hadtwo daughters--sat expecting him. It was the open door that drew me toask my way. " Here he paused. 

"Go on, please. "

"One of the girls was to leave the Islands next morning for themainland, which she had never seen. She told me this. And she satreading aloud to her sister, there by the fire. "

"Go on. "

"That is all. Yes, that is all--except that the book was Shakespeare, and the girl--" He paused again, staring at her between suddenenlightenment and stark incredulity. "You--you don't mean to tell me_you_ were that girl!"

She nodded; and as, forgetting politeness, he held the lantern close toher face, he saw two large tears brim up, tremble, and hang for asecond before they fell. 

"You?" he murmured. 

She nodded again. "I am Vashti--Vazzy Cara, they called me, PhilipCara's daughter. I daresay, though, you never heard my name? No, thereis no reason why you should. And my sister, Ruth----"

"She is married and lives on Saaron Island. But you know this, ofcourse? You who seem to know everything about us. "

"My sister writes me all the news. .. . So now, " she added smiling, "itis all explained, and there is no mystery about me after all. Are youso very much disappointed?"

But the Commandant continued to stare. No mystery? That the fisherman'sdaughter with the Island lilt in her voice--well he recalledit!--should have turned into this apparition of furs and jewels?. .. Andyet the metamorphosis lay not in the furs and jewels, but in hercareless air of command, of reliance upon her power, beauty, charm--whatever her woman's secret might be; an air of one accustomedto move in courts, maybe, or to control great audiences, or to livehabitually with lofty thoughts; an air of one, above all, sure ofherself. The poor Commandant had lived the better part of his life inexile, but by instinct of breeding he recognised this air at once. Vashti, however, seemed to mistake his astonishment, for she frowned. 

"Well?" she asked, a trifle impatiently. 

"Your sister never told us, " he stammered. "At least--that is tosay----"

"Do you suppose she was ashamed of me?"

"Ashamed?" he echoed, for indeed no such thought had occurred to him. If ever a man could have taken _honi soit qui mal y pense_ for hismotto, it was our Commandant. 

"Ah, to be sure!" she said slowly, but less in indignation (it seemed)than in disappointment with him. "Naturally that would be theexplanation to occur to you, living so long in such a place. "

She turned on her heel, half contemptuously, and resumed her way, walking with a yet quicker step than before. The Commandant, aware thathe had offended, but not in the least understanding how, toiled afterher up the steep incline to the garrison gate. 

They reached the door of the Barracks. To his surprise it was standingopen, and from behind the ragged blind of his sitting-room--to the leftof the entrance hall--a light shone feebly out upon the fog. He couldnot remember that he had lit the lamp there, nor that he had left thefront door open. 

Vashti paused upon the doorstep and turned to him:

"My good sir, " she said curtly, "run and fetch Mrs. Treacher to me, forgoodness' sake. "

He hesitated, on the point of stepping past her to open the door of thelighted room. Her manner forbade him, and he stood still, there by thedoorstep, gazing after her a moment as she disappeared into the darkhall. Then, as he heard the door latch rattle gently, he turned tohurry in search of Mrs. Treacher. 

He had taken but a dozen steps, however, when her light footfallsounded again close behind him. She, too, had turned and was followinghim almost at a run. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" she gasped. 

He swung up his lantern. Her eyes were wide with a kind of horror; andyet she seemed to be laughing, or ready to laugh. 

"Tell you?" he echoed. 

"Oh, but it was unkind!"

"But--but, excuse me--what on earth----"

"Why, that you were entertaining ladies!"

"Ladies!"

She nodded, still round-eyed, reproachful. "Two of them--sitting onyour sofa! And, I think--I rather think--one of them is Miss Gabriel!"

CHAPTER VII

TRIBULATIONS OF MRS. POPE AND MISS GABRIEL

"We have only to keep straight on, " said Miss Gabriel. 

"Ye-es, " said Mrs. Pope, less hardily. "I really think the gentlemenmight have waited for us. "

"For aught they know, " said Miss Gabriel, "it's a matter of life anddeath. And we cannot be more than two hundred yards from our owngates. "

"In my opinion, " persisted Mrs. Pope, who was apt to turn peevish whenfrightened, "a man's first duty is to look after his own. "

"Is it?" snapped Miss Gabriel, herself no coward. "Well, you must arguethat out with Mr. Pope, if you haven't made up your minds about it bythis time. For my part, I never wanted a man to look after me, I thankthe Lord. "

"It would have been more gallant, and that you must allow. " Mrs. Popestuck to her point (which is a capital thing to do in a fog), but onlyto let it go abruptly a moment later. "Besides, " she added, "my new capis no better than a pulp already. I can feel it. Sopping isn't theword. "

"Fiddlestick!" said Miss Gabriel. "You and your cap!" She, herself, wasnot frightened, only a little nervous. "If you ask me, it's better youwere thinking of those poor souls out on the rocks yonder. Littleenough they'll be thinking, just now, of such things as caps!"

"Of course, " hazarded Mrs. Pope, after they had groped their wayforward for twenty paces or so, "if you are quite certain where weare----"

"We are among the Islands, " said Miss Gabriel, tartly, feeling theroadway with the edge of her shoe, for her sole had just encounteredturf; "and this is one. My dear Charlotte, if you could refrain frombumping into me at the precise moment when I am standing on oneleg----"

"How can I help it, in this darkness?" whimpered Mrs. Pope. "Besides"--with sudden spirit--"if you want to stand on one leg, Ishouldn't have thought this the time or the place. "

"T'cht!" said Miss Gabriel, striding forward with gathering confidence;but at the seventh stride or so a sharp exclamation escaped her, as shestood groping with both hands into the night. 

"What's the matter?"

"It's a wall, I think. .. . I had almost run against it. .. . Yes, thismust be the wall of Buttershall's garden. "

"Are you sure?"

"Certain. We have been bearing away to the right; people always do in afog. "

"Then if this really is Buttershall's garden--and I only hope and trustyou are not mistaken--we can bear away from it to the left, on purpose, and then as likely as not we shall find ourselves going straight, "reasoned Mrs. Pope, lucidly. 

"My dear Charlotte"--Miss Gabriel was within an ace of calling her afool--"if this is Buttershall's garden----"

"But a moment ago you were sure of it!"

"And so I am. Very well then; since this is Buttershall's garden, wehave only to hold on by the wall and go forward, and that will takeus----"

But here the wall ended, and the sentence with it. 

"Ai-ee!"

"Are you hurt?. .. I said, " asserted Mrs. Pope, desperately, and withconviction, "that one of us would break a limb before we finished. "

"It seems to be--yes, it certainly is--a pump. " Miss Gabriel's voicehad begun to shake by this time, but she steadied it. "For the momentI--I half thought it might be a man. "

"I would to heaven it were!" said Mrs. Pope, fervently. 

"My dear Charlotte!"

"My dear Elizabeth, I mean it. And, what's more, I wouldn't care who hewas. A pump? What earthly use is a pump? It must be Mumford's then, ifit is a pump. "

"It can't be. "

"Why not?"

"For the simple reason that Mumford's is on the other side of theroad. "

"Then we _are_ on the other side of the road, as I have beenmaintaining all along. "

"Would you mind walking round it?. .. Yes, you are right. It isMumford's pump, for I have just bruised my wrist against the handle. Can you find the trough?"

"The astonishing thing to me, " announced Mrs. Pope, groping her waywith trepidation, "is that nobody shows a light. I don't like to callpeople unfeeling; but really, with folks in distress out at sea, andthe guns firing, I wouldn't have believed such callousness. "

They made the circuit of Mumford's pump, and assured themselves--forwhat the knowledge was worth--that it really was a pump, and Mumford's. But this cost them dear, for at the end of the circuit, or rather of acircuit and a half, they had lost all sense of their compass bearings. 

"And after all, " Mrs. Pope began afresh, her mind workingsympathetically in a circle, "I don't understand what Mumford's pump isdoing on the wrong side of the road. "

"Don't be a ninny, Charlotte! Of course, it's not on the wrong side ofthe road. "

"But you said it was. " (Pause. ) "You really did say so, Elizabeth, forI remember it distinctly. " (Another pause, and a sigh. ) "For my part, Inever pretended to have what they call the bump of locality. "

The poor lady prattled on, more and more querulously, and to theincreasing exasperation of Miss Gabriel, who on the whole believed thatthey were making for home, yet could not shake off a haunting suspicionthat they were moving in a direction precisely opposite. Moreover, thebehaviour of Mumford's pump troubled her more than she cared toconfess, even to herself. It stood on the right of the road as you wenttowards St. Hugh's; but they had encountered it upon the left. Therefore, either they had been walking off the road, though in theright direction, or--terrible thought!--somewhere or somehow they hadturned right about-face, and were walking away from St. Hugh's. .. . 

As a matter of fact, they were bending away from the road in a linewhich would lead them past the rear of their own back gardens. Theirfeet no longer trod the causeway. They were on turf, and, so far asthey could feel it in the darkness, the turf seemed to be mounting in afairly stiff slope. Miss Gabriel stooped to feel the grass with thepalm of her hand, and just at that moment her ears caught the faintnote of a bell, some way ahead. 

She stood erect, with a little cry of dismay. 

"That settles it. We have turned round!"

"Why, what makes you think so?"

"Listen to that bell! Can't you hear it?"

"Of course, I hear it?" Mrs. Pope apparently was nettled by thequestion. "But I don't see----"

"The church bell--we are walking straight towards Old Town. "

"It don't sound to me like the church bell. "

"That's because of the fog. Nothing sounds natural in a fog. .. . TheVicar is having it rung to alarm the people in Old Town. I heard himsay this very night that it used to be the custom when a wreck wentashore. .. . Besides, what other bell could it be? There is no otherbell. "

Mrs. Pope was silent, though unconvinced. She did not suggest thegarrison bell, for even to her scattered intelligence it was a thingincredible that they should at this moment be rounding the slope ofGarrison Hill, at the back of St. Hugh's. 

"Anything might happen in a fog like this; and if I don't wake up tofind myself over the cliffs, it's no thanks"--bitterly--"to them wemight have relied on. But I don't believe it's the church bell, not ifyou went on your bended knees. "

"Then, what do you say to this?" announced Miss Gabriel, triumphantly. 

Mrs. Pope would reserve her opinion until she saw what Miss Gabriel hadhold of. 

"Railings, " said Miss Gabriel. "We are at the corner of Church Lane, and here's the railing close alongside of us. Now we have only to keepby the railing and feel our way--if you'll follow me--and we must findthe churchyard gate. The man ringing the bell will certainly have alantern, and will take us home. "

"I don't fancy churchyards at this time of night, " said Mrs. Pope; "andwhat's more, I never did. "

"You must make up your mind to one, then; that is, unless you prefer towait here till morning. "

They advanced, feeling their way by the rails, Mrs. Pope close behindMiss Gabriel's heels. The bell continued tolling, not far away; yetsomehow after three minute's progress they appeared to be no nearer toit. 

"Church Lane was never so long as all this, " asserted Mrs. Pope, comingto a desperate halt; "and you needn't try to persuade me. "

"It does seem a long way, " Miss Gabriel conceded; "but no doubt the fogmagnifies things. "

"You had the same tale just now, about the church bell. For my part, Idon't believe in your church bell, and--listen!"

"Eh?"

"It has stopped ringing!"

So it had. It was too much, perhaps, to say that Miss Gabriel's bloodran cold, there in the darkness, as Mrs. Pope clutched and clung toher; but certainly her heart sunk. 

"All the better, " she said, bravely, clenching her jaw that her teethmight not be heard to chatter. "Whoever was ringing the bell will bereturning this way presently, and we can ask his help. "

But here inspiration came to Mrs. Pope. 

"It's my belief, " she said, "we are not in Church Lane at all, but inthe churchyard; and these rails don't belong to Church Lane, but to oldBonaday's grave. "

"My dear Charlotte! When we've been following them for at least twohundred yards!"

"My dear Elizabeth, that's just it. We've been following round andround them, and at this rate there's no reason why ever we should stop, in this world. "

"You don't say. .. . But, after all, there's an easy way of proving ifyou are right. You walk to the left, feeling round them, and I'll walkto the right, and then, if it really is Bonaday's grave, we shallmeet. "

"Oh, but I couldn't! Elizabeth, if you leave me--if once I lose hold ofyou--I shall die next moment. "

"Then there's only one thing to be done. We must stay here and cry outat the top of our voices, and both together. "

"Yes, yes. .. . Why didn't we think of it before?"

"For, " argued Miss Gabriel, "a bell doesn't ring of itself; and if wecan hear the bell, very likely the man who was ringing it can hear us. "

"Will you begin, Elizabeth? I declare to you my whole cage of teeth isloose----"

"Help!" called Miss Gabriel. Her voice, despite herself, quavered alittle at first. "Help! Help!"

"Help--help--help!" chirupped Mrs. Pope, much as an extremely nervousperson seeks to attract the attention of a waiter. 

"Louder . .. Much louder. He-lp!"

"Help--help--he-lp! Oh, Elizabeth, and in a churchyard, too!"

"Louder still. .. . He-el-lp!"

"Help!. .. It's like waking the dead. .. . "

"He-el-lp!"

"Hi, there! Who is it, and whatever on earth's the matter?" answered avoice from somewhere on their right. 

"Oh, listen, Elizabeth! Heaven be praised!. .. "

"Who is it?" sounded the voice again, and a dot of light shone throughthe wall of fog. 

"Answer him, Elizabeth!"

"Him? It isn't a man's voice, but a woman's . .. Unless the fog. .. . Hi, there! Help! Here are two ladies. .. . Why, it's--it's Mrs. Treacher!"

For the fog had parted suddenly, and through it, as through a breach ina wall, stepped Mrs. Treacher with a lantern, which she held up closeto their faces. 

"Eh? Mrs. Pope and Miss Gabriel? Well, I declare!"

"Bless you, Mrs. Treacher! But, however came you here?"

"Why not?" asked Mrs. Treacher, after a pause. 

"Here, in the churchyard!. .. You don't tell me you've lost your way, too?"

"No, I don't, " answered Mrs. Treacher, shortly, lifting her lantern. "Churchyard? What churchyard?"

"We thought. .. . We were under the impression. .. . " Miss Gabriel's voicerocked a little before she recovered her self-command. "Would you mindtelling us where we are, and what railings are these?"

"You're on Garrison Hill, " said Mrs. Treacher, who disliked MissGabriel. "And you have hold of the rails round the old powder magazine. But what you're tryin' to do with 'em, and at this hour of night, I'llleave you to explain. "

But here, for the first time since their troubles began, Mrs. Pope cameto her companion's help. She did so by leaning back limply against therailings and declaring that she, for her part, was going to faint. 

Mrs. Treacher caught her as she dropped, and with Miss Gabriel's helpsupported her up the slope to the Barracks, less than fifty yardsabove. 

"The Barracks?" exclaimed Miss Gabriel, halting as Mrs. Treacher'slantern revealed to her through the fast-thinning fog a portion of thewhitewashed faēade. "Oh, but I couldn't--on any account whatever!"

"You'll have to, " answered Mrs. Treacher, shortly, "that is, unlessyou'd rather have her laid outside on the bare road, and in a deadfaint, too. "

Indeed, Mrs. Pope was in a state of collapse that silenced allscruples. Mrs. Treacher--a powerfully-built woman--caught up the allbut inanimate lady in both arms, and bore her into the passage, noddingto Miss Gabriel to unhitch from its nail a lamp which hung, backed by atin reflector, just within the doorway. 

"Unhasp the door to the left, please. We'll rest her down in theCommandant's parlour. There's a sofa--though he do mostly use to keephis books and papers upon it. " She laid down her burden. "Oh, youneedn't fear to look about you! The men folk be all off to the wreck, and won't be back till Lord knows when. "

Miss Gabriel, however, was not looking about her. Her gaze, followingthe ray of the lamp as she held it aloft, travelled across the stoopingshoulders of Mrs. Treacher and fastened itself upon a garment ofgaudily-striped woolwork--her antimacassar--lying across the arm of thesofa where the Commandant had tossed it impatiently. 

"Terribly messy a man always is when left to himself, " said Mrs. Treacher, rising and stepping to a corner cupboard. "If he keeps such athing as a drop of brandy on the premises, it'll be here, I reckon. "

But the cupboard was empty. For the sternest of reasons the Commandanthad, for two or three years past, denied himself the taste of strongwaters. 

Mrs. Treacher passed the back of her hand across the bridge of hernose. "I'll step over to the Castle, " she announced, "for a drop of ginI keep against Treacher's attacks. " (Let not Mrs. Treacher's idiomfrighten the reader. She meant only that her husband suffered from aninternal trouble which need not be specified, and that she kept the ginby her as a precaution. )

"And there's a quill pen of the Commandant's on the writing-table, " sheadded; "if you'll burn the feather of it under her nose. "

She bustled off. Miss Gabriel stepped to the table, picked up thequill, and held it over the lamp's flame; but her eyes still questionedthe antimacassar. She was bending close to it when Mrs. Pope emitted afluttering sigh and lifted her eyelids feebly. 

"You are feeling better, dear?" asked Miss Gabriel, solicitously. 

At this moment the latch of the door rattled gently. She looked up insurprise, for Mrs. Treacher could scarcely have gone and returned in soshort a while. 

The door opened. On the threshold stood a vision--a woman clad infurs--a woman with diamonds flashing on her white throat where the fursparted. 

Miss Gabriel gasped. 

The apparition stood for a moment, looked her in the eyes, and wasgone, closing the door softly. 

Miss Gabriel tottered, and sank back against the sofa's edge. 

CHAPTER VIII

A BRIEF REVENGE

"Ladies?" ejaculated the Commandant. "In my quarters?"

Vashti nodded demurely. "I think you might have told me, " she said in atone of mild reproach. 

"But--my dear young lady----"

"Thank you--"

"Hey?"

"--for calling me young. " She reached out a hand, and, taking thelantern from him, held it high so that the beams fell on her face. "Itis many years since our first meeting, and unhappily we have the dateof it fixed. Give me credit that I reminded you; for I don't mindconfessing that, though it hasn't come to a quarrel yet, mylooking-glass and I are not the friends we were. "

Here, had the Commandant been a readier man, he might have answeredwith a compliment, and a truthful one. For indeed it was a verybeautiful face that the lantern showed him, and--here was the strangepart of the business--it had been growing younger since she stepped offthe ship, and somehow it must have contrived, in spite of the darkness, to convey a hint of its rejuvenescence, for the word "young" hadslipped from him quite involuntarily. 

But, after all, there is nothing so subtle as simplicity, and, afterall, the Commandant managed to imply that she must be a witch. 

"Then, my dear young lady, " he replied, "since you have spirited thesefemales into my quarters, I can only ask you to go and spirit them awayagain. "

She shook her head. 

"What! You won't?. .. Very well, then, I must deal with them, while yougo off with the lantern and search for Mrs. Treacher. "

"You are a brave man, " said she; "and--and I think--by the look ofthem--you are going to have great fun. "

The Commandant stood for a moment rubbing his chin and staring afterthe lantern, as it vanished in the fog. With a shake of the shouldershe pulled himself together, marched into the Barracks, and boldlyopened the door. 

"Miss Gabriel!"

"Major Vigoureux!"

"Certainly, ma'am--these being my own quarters, unless--" He paused andgazed around, as if to make sure that his eyes were not deceiving him. 

"Yes, yes--and at this time of night. As I was just saying to Charlottehere, 'Think what a terrible construction one might put on it!'"

The Commandant lifted his eyebrows. ("I behaved like a brute, " heconfessed afterwards, "but the woman, a few hours before, had shown nomercy to me. ") "Indeed, ma'am?" said he. "A construction? Then you mustinvent one for me, please, since I can think of none. "

"We have had the most terrible experience, sir--the most terriblefright! You have seen Mrs. Treacher?"

"Has anything happened to Mrs. Treacher?"

"No--but it all came about through the fog----"

"--and my husband deserting me, " put in Mrs. Pope. 

The Commandant passed a hand across his brow. The gesture seemed toexpress perplexity; in truth it covered amusement and a kind of fearfuljoy in his newly-found talent for dissimulation. 

"My dear Mrs. Pope, " he answered, his voice faltering a little, "Youdon't mean to tell me that your excellent husband----"

"Of course she doesn't, " snapped Miss Gabriel. "She means to say thatthe gentlemen were escorting us home, but, meeting the coastguard withthe news of this terrible wreck----"

"A wreck, ma'am?"

"Why, God bless the man! Don't you know? Haven't you heard the gunsgoing?. .. But of course you have. Mrs. Treacher told me you were downhelping with the boats--you and her husband and Archelaus, though whathelp you three supposed yourselves capable of giving, " wound up MissGabriel, reverting for a moment to her customary manner, "I don'tpretend to guess. "

"As for that, " the Commandant answered gravely, "I am happy to tell youthere has been no wreck. True, a vessel in distress--a large liner--hadfound herself among the Hell-deeps, of all abominably awkward places. But by the mercy of Heaven she managed to extricate herself, and hasdropped anchor, not half an hour ago, in the Roads. "

Miss Gabriel stared. "The Hell-deeps . .. And at anchor in the Roads?"she repeated stupidly. "Oh, will someone kindly tell me whether I amstanding on my head or my heels! A large liner?--the thing'simpossible! And in a fog that thick you couldn't see your hand beforeyour face!"

"Are you quite sure, ladies, " asked the Commandant, still gravely, "that you are not exaggerating the thickness of the fog, somewhat?"

"What?" Miss Gabriel took him up, like an echo. "When we started forhome and found we were half-way up Garrison Hill, and all the timeconvinced we were at Old Town, in the churchyard!"

The Commandant shook his head; and it must be conceded that he had someexcuse. 

"But why in the churchyard?" he asked, gently. 

"Because of the bell. If it comes to that"--Miss Gabriel threw herselfdesperately on the offensive--"how do you account for the woman we sawhere, just now?"

"I beg your pardon? A--a woman, did you say?" (Oh, Major Vigoureux!)

"Yes, sir--a woman; a bedizened woman. "

"My dear Elizabeth, " pleaded Mrs. Pope feebly, "are we quite sure thatwe saw her?--that it wasn't a--a sort of mistake? It certainlyseemed--for a moment---- But really, you know, there is no one in theIslands----"

"My dear Charlotte, didn't we see her with our own eyes?"

Mrs. Pope sighed. "It seems to me I have seen such a number ofthings--of incredible things--to-night. "

"You are sure it wasn't Mrs. Treacher?" suggested the Commandant, wickedly. 

"Mrs. Treacher! Mrs. Trea---- Does Mrs. Treacher go about in silks andfurs and low bodices with a thousand pounds' worth of diamonds on herabandoned neck?"

"Certainly not to my knowledge. But, " said the Commandant, turning, asthe door opened, "you had better ask her for yourself. "

Now, it may be that Mrs. Treacher had also allowed Vashti to bewitchher. At any rate, she cordially hated Miss Gabriel, and she took, thenand there, what she herself called afterwards, a strong line. 

"What are they wanting to know now?" she demanded, addressing theCommandant. 

"Miss Gabriel wants to know"--he answered, in a husky voice, while hepretended to trim the lamp--"if you go about in silks and furs. "

"No, I don't, " replied Mrs. Treacher, setting down the bottle of gin. "And what's more, I don't go a-sheevoing it around Garrison Hill in thesmall hours, and a-holding on to railings, and a-clammering for strongdrink. "

"That will do, Mrs. Treacher, " interposed her master, suddenly reducedto contrition at the sight of Miss Gabriel, who stood speechless, opening and shutting her mouth like a fish. "The ladies have lost theirway in the fog, and were, on the whole, extremely fortunate to reachhere without accident. They will agree, I daresay, that the sooner Iescort them home the better. Fetch me a lantern, if you please. "

"It--it is extremely good of you, " stammered Miss Gabriel. 

"My dear madam!" he protested, with a good-natured smile. 

Miss Gabriel did not respond to it. But, though bitterly angry, for themoment she was cowed, and she made no further reference to themysterious lady. 

She declined the Commandant's arm. Mrs. Pope, however, took it almosteagerly, and on the way down the hill he obtained from her a voluble ifsomewhat incoherent account of the night's adventures. He did his bestnow to make light of them. Accidents even more extraordinary hadhappened in fogs before now. He related how two companies of the NavalBrigade, under Sevastopol, had come within an ace of firing on eachother. .. . He told of the _Milo_, and her wonderful escape, but saidnothing of Vashti. In the midst of his narrative he found himselfwondering what answer he could make if they questioned him again uponthe apparition. 

But neither Mrs. Pope nor Miss Gabriel made further allusion to it. Their silence, for which at first he was merely thankful, began topuzzle him after a while. 

Could it be possible that he, too, had been cheated by an apparition?

He took leave of the ladies at their respective gates, retiringdelicately as soon as, waiting in the road, he had assured himself thatthey were within doors. Miss Gabriel admitted herself with a latch-key. Mrs. Pope's timid knock was answered by her astonished husband, who, having just returned from the harbour, and assuming his spouse to belong since in bed and asleep, had lit a candle to explore thedining-room cellaret. 

The front door was shut on their reciprocal surprise, and theCommandant withdrew. He had sighed, before now, as he had shut Mr. AndMrs. Pope's front gate after an evening's whist. Doubtless they were astupid couple. 

 * * * * *

A light shone from the Barracks--from the office window to the right ofthe door. Within the office Vashti had dragged the sofa across the roomand sat, with her fur cloak thrown back, toasting her shoes before awarm fire. In the dancing flame of it her diamonds sparkled as sheturned to him. 

"Mrs. Treacher is upstairs, " she said, "hunting out sheets to air forme. Now fill your pipe, please, and sit down and tell me all about it. "

Major Vigoureux found an old pipe on the mantel-shelf, dived in thetobacco jar for a few dry crumbs, filled, and lit and stamped out aspark that had dropped on the hearth-rug. 

"It isn't a creditable story, " said he, puffing slowly, and blinking atthe flash of jewels below her white throat. "In fact, I behaved like abrute. "

"Tell me about it, " she repeated. 

So he told her; and found himself smoking and watching her, while shelaughed softly, leaning forward to the fire, and gazing into the heartof it. 

CHAPTER IX

THE SALVING OF S. S. MILO

Major Vigoreux awoke at daybreak with a vague sense that somethingimportant had happened or was going to happen--a feeling he had notknown for years. It was so strange that he sat up wondering, rubbingthe back of his head. 

Then he remembered, and called out to Sergeant Archelaus. 

Sergeant Archelaus appeared, a moment later, ready dressed, and on morethan usually good terms with himself. He had indued his master'strousers, and, save for an unfashionable bagginess at the hips, theyfitted him surprisingly well. 

"Good morning, Archelaus. Did you happen to hear, last night, at whattime the _Milo_ weighs anchor?"

"I heard the captain, sir, tell the pilots to be aboard athalf-after-seven. But with a vessel of her size you may count on theirwaiting till high-water or thereabouts. "

"In any case"--the Commandant consulted his watch--"we have not toomuch time. Where is Treacher?"

"Downstairs, sir, along with his missus, stoking the kitchen fire, withmattresses built up before it like a sandbag battery. Seems to me thewoman's been spending half the night airing one thing and another. Shesays the place is like a vault. Not, " added Archelaus, magnanimously, "that I mind her talk. "

"Quite right, Archelaus. I particularly hope you won't quarrel withMrs. Treacher while she is here waiting on Miss--er--on the lady. "

"If, " said Archelaus, darkly, "as how I wanted to quarrel with afemale, I should have taken and married one long ago. As 'tis, when thewoman's tongue becomes afflicting, I turns round and pities Treacher. There's more ways of doing that than in so many words, and you'd beastonished how they both dislikes it. "

"At any rate, " said the Commandant, mildly, "they have saved you thetrouble of being late with the fire this morning. So you may fetch memy shaving-water at once, please. "

He sprang out of bed and reached for his dressing-gown, astonished athis own good spirits. "It does make a difference, " said he aloud, though the remark was addressed to himself. 

"It do, " said Archelaus, turning in the doorway. 

"I--I beg your pardon?" The Commandant turned about, a trifle confused. 

"It may seem a little thing; but it gives a man self-respect, and I'mglad you noticed 'em. " Archelaus looked down at his legs, complacently. "Always supposin', " he added, "they don't take me for a Frenchman, owing to the fulness hereabouts. "

Yes, certainly, it made a difference--to rise in the morning with asense of something waiting to be done. So the Commandant put it tohimself while he shaved, standing at his dressing-table under thebarrack window. The window was set high in the wall: too high to affordhim a view of the Islands, even though he stood on tip-toe. But throughit and above the open pane he caught a glimpse of blue sky andlilac-coloured cloud, touched with gold by the risen sun. He couldguess the rest. A perfect morning!--clean and crisp, with the sea atranslucent blue, and sunlight glittering on the Island beaches; theair still, yet bracing, and withal ineffably pure--a morning mysteriouswith the sense of autumn, but of autumn rarified by its passage overthe salt strait, deodorised, made pure of marsh fog and the rottingleaf. 

The Commandant hummed to himself in the intervals of his shaving, whichnevertheless he performed meticulously by force of habit. It was hiscustom to shave, and very carefully, before taking his bath. For yearshe had made a ritual of his morning toilet: so many passes of his razoracross the strop (to be precise, one hundred and fifty, neither morenor less), so many douches with the sponge, so many petitionsafterwards on his knees. Yes, it is to be feared that his prayers, noless than his shaving, had become a drill, though one may plead for himthat he always went through it conscientiously. A stroke too few acrossthe strop--a petition to the Almighty missed--either would have worriedhim with a feeling that the day had been begun amiss. He was poor, butwith the never-failing well on Garrison Hill he could come clean as therichest to his prayers. Even Miss Gabriel had to admit that the poorman (as she put it) knew how to take care of his person. 

"We shall be in good time, Archelaus, " said the Commandant, with a sideglance at his watch; "that is, if you'll step down the hill and get theboat ready. "

Archelaus, whose hearing had not improved of late, checked himself inthe act of filling his master's tub. 

"I didn't clearly catch what you said, for the splashing. .. . Boat? Ifyou want the boat, I put her off to the moorings last night. Found hertied up and bumping against the quay steps, quite as if money was noobject to any of us. "

"Thank you. Yes, I relied on your finding and mooring her properly. Well, now, when you are ready I want you to unmoor her again. We aregoing off to the liner to fetch Miss--that is to say--the lady'sboxes. "

Sergeant Archelaus faced about slowly, cap in hand. 

"Oh--oh!" said he slowly. "Relative of yours, sir?--making so bold. "

"Dear me, no; nothing of the sort. "

"Paying lodger, perhaps. .. . Or else we've come into a fortune all of asudden, an' that accounts for Treacher's playing ad lib. With thecoals--begging your pardon again. "

The Commandant winced, and came within an ace of gashing himselfseverely. He had forgotten the penny in his pocket, the gulf betweenthis and pay-day . .. And Vashti, no doubt, was used to fare daintily, luxuriously!

"I really think"--he turned on Archelaus in sudden anger--"you mightknow better than to stare into the glass when I am shaving. Moreover, you forget your place, and inexcusably, even for an old servant. "

Archelaus resumed his filling of the bath, and, having filled it, withdrew without another word. 

Yes; but while the manner of Archelaus' speech had deserved rebuke, inthe matter of it Archelaus was right. The matter of it was urgent, too, and not to be played with. In an hour or so Vashti would be awake. .. . She must delay dressing until her boxes arrived; but, once dressed, shewould expect breakfast. The larder, to his knowledge, contained but therusty end of a flitch of green bacon--that, and perhaps a couple ofrusty eggs, a loaf, and some salt butter. Fool that he was! And aminute ago he had greeted the day so light-heartedly!

What was to be done? In the pauses of sponging and towelling himself, the Commandant asked the question again and again. Could he go to Mrs. Treacher and borrow back the four shillings he had given her lastnight? Fish, new-laid eggs, fresh butter, marmalade, the best teaprocurable in the Islands. .. . Yes, undoubtedly four shillings would goa long way towards providing breakfast. But after breakfast would comeluncheon, and after luncheon--

There was Mr. Tregaskis, of the Shop. Mr. Tregaskis sold almosteverything "advantageous to life"--as Shakespeare's exiles said uponanother island: everything from bacon and pickles to boots, iron-mongery, and sun-bonnets. For twelve years the Commandant haddealt with Mr. Tregaskis, paying whatever Mr. Tregaskis charged him, and always in ready money. He knew, moreover, that Mr. Tregaskis gavecredit: and yet, after twelve years of ready-money dealing, he wincedas he saw himself entering the shop and proposing to open an account. He foresaw himself inexorably driven to it. But he foresaw himself alsostammering out the suggestion with every sign of conscious rascality. And, after all, was it honest to enter a shop and open an account withone penny in pocket? Suppose that, next pay-day, no pay wereforthcoming!

He must approach Mr. Tregaskis: there was no help for it. Yet theprospect pleased him so little that, as he walked down the hill to thequay, he decided to put off the interview, and was almost running pastthe shop (which had just been unshuttered) when Mr. Tregaskis himselfappeared, framed of a sudden in the upper and open half of his shopdoorway. 

"Eh? Is it you, sir? Good morning!" he called. 

"Good morning! And a fine morning, too, Mr. Tregaskis. "

"After a night of marvels. You've heard about the liner, sir, out inthe Roads?. .. 'Tis all a mystery to me how she ever found her way in. "

"I am putting off to learn the particulars. And, by the way, Mr. Tregaskis"--the Commandant paused--"I intended to call in upon you onmy way back. "

"Anything I can do for you, sir, and at any time, " responded Mr. Tregaskis. "I suppose, now, " he added, "you'd take it as a liberty if Iwas to ask for a seat in your boat?"

"Not in the least. There she is, waiting off the quay steps: so if youhave business on board, put on your hat, come along with me, andwelcome!"

"Thanking you kindly, sir. Which I was reckoning that--she being fromforeign parts and the Islands the first place she've touched at, Imight pick up a bravish order in the way of fresh milk and eggs, not tomention that Job Clemow sold me half-a-hundredweight of plaice, with acod or two, that he took on the spiller yesterday. "

"Come along, by all means, " repeated the Commandant, moving off towardsthe quay steps; and Tregaskis, having tucked his shop-apron around hiswaist and run into the back passage for his billy-cock hat, hurried inhis wake. 

Reuben Tregaskis--known throughout the Islands as The Bester--was agenial ruffian of familiar accost, red-faced, round in the stomach, utterly unscrupulous at a bargain. The Commandant did not like him, andparticularly disliked the prospect of asking him a favour. Most of allhe regretted, as they pushed off, that chance this morning had forcedhim to put such a man under a small obligation. He feared that, when itcame to asking leave to open an account, he might seem to be using thisadvantage. (Such a fear, it scarcely needs saying, was groundless. Inhis business dealings, The Bester was superior alike to gratitude andrancour, and would bargain with his own mother as with his worstenemy. )

The Commandant, oppressed with his own thoughts, bent his attentionupon the steering, and punctuated with monosyllables only the exuberantflow of Mr. Tregaskis' conversation, which, bye-and-bye, as they nearedthe roadstead, resolved itself into offers of wagers on the length, tonnage, and actual carrying capacity of the liner. 

She lay very nearly in the middle of the roadstead, broadside-on to themorning sunshine, and the more the Commandant studied her the more hewondered at last night's miracle. She had not yet begun to weigh, though he discerned a couple of St. Ann's pilots talking with anofficer on the bridge. Presently the officer left them, and descendedto the deck, where he stood in the gangway awaiting the boat. 

"Major Vigoureux?" he asked, lifting the peak of his cap, as she fellalongside. 

The Commandant, not a little astonished, returned the salutation. "Thatis my name, sir. "

"I have been expecting you, " said the officer. "I am Captain Whitaker, at your service--the skipper of this vessel, in fact, and thankfulenough, I can tell you, to be alive this morning and in command of her. Madame's boxes are on deck here, if you do me the favour to climb onboard. .. . Ah, and here is Madame's maid, to give account of them!"

The Commandant, drawing breath at the head of the ladder, and glancingdown the _Milo's_ majestic length of deck, was aware of four largetrunks, and beside them a neat, foreign-looking woman, who curtsied inforeign fashion as she came forward. 

"M'sieur will take my duty to Madame, and tell her that I have done mybest to pack to her orders. The rest I am to report from Plymouth, whenwe arrive. "

"And I daresay, " put in Captain Whitaker, with an amused turn of theeye towards the trunks, then back at the Commandant, "Madame would callthese 'just a few necessaries. ' Though I say to you, sir, " he went ongravely, "that all the _Milo's_ hold--and the _Milo_ will carry closeon four thousand tons--hasn't room enough to stow what Madame deserves, be it in clothes or jewels. "

"I--I beg your pardon?"

"She hasn't told you? No; I bet she wouldn't, " said Captain Whitaker. "Come down to my cabin, sir, and let me offer you a brandy-and-soda?No? Then, perhaps, you'll do me the honour to join me atbreakfast--which must be ready at this moment, " he added, as eightstrokes sounded on the ship's bell forward. "Never mind the size of thetrunks, sir; one of my men shall help you ashore with 'em. "

In the Captain's cabin, which had a floor of parquet and panels of teakset in mahogany, stood a table with a white cloth upon it, and abreakfast array of blue-and-white china. A steward, in a blue suit withbrass buttons, brought the meats in dishes of polished electro-plate, and on a small sideboard stood other dishes with small spirit lampsburning beneath. The Commandant seated himself; ate, drank, andmarvelled. 

"You know Madame?" asked Captain Whitaker, helping himself to a dish ofkidneys and bacon. He nodded, intercepting the Commandant's gaze. "Wekeep them in ice, if you're not above trying our fare. You'll find theyare not bad. My other meals I take with the passengers, but I breakfastalone, as a rule. "

The Commandant's mind ran on the breakfast yet to be extracted from Mr. Tregaskis' shop. 

"You know her?" asked Captain Whitaker. 

"I once had the pleasure--years ago----"

"If that's so"--Captain Whitaker nodded--"we'll take her praises forgranted. She's great; you can sum it up at that. By the way, did shehappen to tell you why she is leaving the ship here?"

"Yes; she went ashore in a hurry, she said, to avoid being thanked----"

"Then I guessed right. "

"--though, " confessed the Commandant, "I haven't a notion what shemeant. "

Captain Whitaker set down his breakfast-cup and buttered himself apiece of toast, gazing the while long and earnestly at his companion. 

"No? Then I'll tell you. The passengers don't know it as yet, thoughI've caught a guess or two flying around; but the truth is sure to comeout, sooner or later. Man, it was she that saved the _Milo_ last night, in that ghastly twenty minutes before we picked up the pilot. .. . Oh, Isee by your face you don't believe me!--but you must take it or leaveit. Shall I go on?"

"Go on, " said the Commandant. 

"We were due out of New York on the 27th, but missed our tide inclearing and didn't pass the bar till early next morning. We carriedfifty-nine saloon passengers, seventy-five second, and a hundred andtwenty-five steerage, with a crew of a hundred exactly. Besides thesewe had the mails--two hundred and twenty bags--and a fair amount ofdollars in specie (I needn't tell how much. ) The weather was thick fromthe first with a heavy sea running on the other side. We met it fulljust outside Sandy Hook, and for three days I pitied the passengers. The third night out the mischief happened. I had left the bridge soonafter four bells and was just turning in for my beauty-sleep when Iheard an unholy racket below in the engine-room, and felt the ship slowdown of a sudden. One of the rods had kicked loose from its gib andstarted to flail around death and destruction. Thanks to Crosbie, ourfirst engineer, she was brought up before kicking our insides out, andwe hove to; but the repairs cost us close on eighteen hours. Bydaybreak the weather was thickening worse than ever, though with nogreat amount of wind, and we started again in a fog so thick that fromthe bridge you could see her bows, and only just. Well, that's how itwas with us, all the way across. We seemed to carry the fog; and thoughit lifted a bit, off and on, it never looked like giving us a chance ofan observation. All yesterday afternoon I was worried by the thoughtthat we'd overrun our reckoning and must be somewhere near the Islands, and about two o'clock--though the soundings were good--I ordered theengines to be reduced below the half-speed at which she was running. 

"To ease the passengers' minds I had arranged for a concert in thesaloon after dinner, and Madame--she had booked with us under a namethat wasn't her own to dodge the New York newspaper men, but thepassengers recognized her--had promised me to sing to them. (You haveheard her, eh?--it makes you cry, and not mind, either, who sees you. )I remember now that she looked at me pretty straight when she gave thepromise, but seeing me not minded to speak, she asked no questions. 

"Well, the concert came off. At any other time I'd have given pounds tobe sitting there and listening; but the worry on my mind kept me to thebridge, and from there I heard her, the notes lifting up through thesaloon sky-light as if heaven and earth had somehow got capsized orelse an angel had come aboard to sing us clear of the fog. There werethree of us on the bridge--myself, and the third officer, Mr. Francillon, and a seaman called Petersen; and when the song ended--itwas a little Italian something-or-other, very bright and gay--and theclapping began and the calls for an encore, I couldn't stand it anylonger, and I was afraid she'd be starting on 'Home, Sweet Home, ' orsomething of that sort, and I didn't want Mr. Francillon to see myface. So I made up an excuse and sent him off to the chart-house for apair of dividers (which I didn't want), and away he went. 

"When he was gone I stood by the wheel for a bit listening as theclapping died down. It stopped at last, and I braced myself up andwaited to have my feelings wrung, when just behind me I heard a step onthe ladder. Of course, I took it for Mr. Francillon returning, and Iwheeled about, short-tempered like, to tell him he needn't betip-toeing--we weren't on the bridge to listen to grand opera--whenwhat do I see but Madame! 'You needn't look so cross, Captain, ' shesays; 'for I know well enough I'm breaking all rules, and I'll go awayquietly and sing to them again. But we're somewhere near the Islands, and the call came on me to warn you!' 'Why, truly, ma'am, ' I answered, 'I believe we're not far off them. ' 'We're close to them, ' she answeredme, nodding her head. 'I'm Island-born, Captain, and I feel 'em in myblood. ' I put this down to craziness--hysterics--or whatever you chooseto call it; but just to soothe her mind and get her down quietly offthe bridge I sang out to the leadsman to know if he had foundsoundings. I was bending over the rail when I felt a touch on my arm, and heard her cry out 'Starboard! Hard a-starboard--hard!'--just likethat. " Captain Whitaker dropped his voice to a low, fierce whisper ashe imitated her. "It took the helmsman sharp and sudden, so that he hadbegun to put the wheel down before he realised that the order didn'tcome from me; and the next moment Madame had flung herself upon it andwas helping with both hands. 'Hullo!' says I, stepping after hersmartly, and as good as asking if she or I commanded the _Milo_. Thepassengers below had started to sing 'D'ye ken John Peel?' and wereyelling out a lot of silly hunting-cries with the chorus. I could hearnothing above the racket. But, sure enough, looking to port over myshoulder as I laid hand on the wheel to check it, I saw a whitish smearthat meant breakers; and the smear no sooner showed than above it agreat black cliff stood out as if 'twere a moving thing and meant tocarve into us right amidships--a great cliff with a rock on it like theDuke of Wellington's nose. A man from the top of it could have jumpedonto our bulwarks, and I shut my eyes as it overhung, waiting for thecrash; but it slid by and was gone like a slide you pass through amagic lantern. 

"'Port now! Port for your life!' she called out; and I saw first of allher hand go out to push Petersen off, and then the little sparksflickering on her rings as she gripped the spokes, and checking 'em, dragged the wheel back hand over hand. A man's strength she must havehad. 'Help me, ' was all she said, in a kind of panting voice, and as Icaught hold to help it over, 'That was the Head! Hard up, now! and ringdown for full speed!' 'Full speed!' I grunted, yet pressing on thewheel all the time--'It's stop her you mean, and anchor. ' 'What, here?with Hell-deeps on your starboard bow and a five-knot tide running!Full speed ahead--there's no room to swing--no, nor half. ' She stoppedmy hand on the bell and rang down herself, 'full speed ahead'; and thepassengers whooping away at 'John Peel!' all the while. 

"Then, as the engines began to run, she looked at me, still holding onby the wheel. 'They may do it, ' she said, 'they may do it. At halfspeed she'd never point off, against a five-knot tide. ' 'God have mercyon us!' was all I could say. 'If you know--?' 'Know?' she caught me up. 'I was brought up to know. But she'll never do it if she don't pick upway. .. . Ah, that's better!' she said with a kind of sigh staring overthe starboard bow into the fog. 'Now!'--and we held our breath, all ofus; for Mr. Francillon was back on the bridge standing close behind herand wondering what the devil was up. She let thirty seconds pass, andthen turned to him as if he'd been there all the while and she knew it. 

"'Look astern, ' she said, 'and maybe, if you're clever, you can see theMonk. '

"'The Monk!' We cried this out together; for that we had passed theMonk without sighting her or catching sound of her fog-horns was athing incredible. 

"'But so it is, ' said she. 'We have passed the Monk; passed it close. Don't I know the Pope's Head on Lesser Teague? Now hard-a-portstill--for we've the Gunnel Dogs somewhere there to leeward, andthey're worse almost than Hell-deeps. '

"We were racing by this time. There was nothing in the world tosee--only the fog, which had turned, within the last minute, to dusk;and nothing to feel except that we were racing down between the wallsof it like a stick caught in a mill heat. Worse it was; we were drivingdown full tilt with a five-knot tide under us. If we struck there wasone consolation; the end would come soon. As 'John Peel' ended we couldhear the tide race take up the tune and hum it on the wind of ourpassage; and above it I heard the third officer call out that he hadglimpsed a light astern. 

"'The Monk!' said Madame, nodding her head to me to help her in easingoff the wheel. 

"And I don't know, sir, if you have ever been through a gale at sea; areally tight gale, I mean; with a while in it--maybe an hour only, maybe twenty-four--when the odds are slowly turning against you. Thenthere comes a point when, with nothing to show for it, you feel thatyou are holding your own; and another point when you feel that, baraccidents, the worst is over. The sea seems to break just as savage asever, and you can't swear that the wind has lessened. You have nothingto point to, but, all the same, you know, and can thank the Lord. 

"That's how it was with the _Milo_. I couldn't say when the dangerceased; but I found myself looking at Madame across the binnacle lampand she was looking at me. My hand went out and I rang down forhalf-speed, then for dead slow. We stood there and listened while theengines changed their beat from one to the other. In the saloon theyhad started a comic song with a chorus. Said she, after a bit, 'You canbring up now and wait for morning. North of the Gunnel here there's aneddy slack where the tides meet, and you may count on thirty fathoms. '

"I called down to know what the lead reported. I felt my voice shakingand the leadsman's voice shook a bit too as he called back that he hadfound the bottom with the red seventeen fathom mark. Half a minutelater he sang out that his line had lost it. I was just about callingto let go anchor when away on our starboard bow we heard the pilotshailing. We sent up a flare, and at sight of it the lighthousemen, awayon the Monk, began banging, and small blame to them!"

CHAPTER X

THE ADVENTURES OF FOUR SHILLINGS

As he finished his story Captain Whitaker stood up and reached out ahand to open a glass-fronted cupboard in which he kept his books andpapers. The Commandant, mistaking his movement, rose also. 

"No, no, sir, " the Captain corrected him. "Sit down and finish yourbreakfast. The fact is, when her maid, last night, handed me the lettertelling me she had gone ashore, I sat down and wrote an answer. Here itis, and I was going to ask you to deliver it for me. "

The Commandant took it, and placed it carefully in his breast pocket. "I thank you, " he answered, "but I have breakfasted. If you don'tmind--it occurs to me that, if I delay, some of your passengers willsoon be about the decks, and will see the luggage going overside, andask questions. "

"And that's well thought of, " interrupted Captain Whitaker, "though Iexpect the luggage is all in your boat before this. How far lies yourhouse from the quay, by the way?"

The Commandant answered that his house--the Barracks--stood at the verytop of the hill. 

"Why, then, " said the Captain, leading the way up the companionway, "the least I can do is to send a couple of my men along with you tohelp. Your fellows--you'll excuse me--don't look equal to it. Pensioners, eh?"

The Commandant winced. "One of them, " he answered stiffly, "is on theactive list. His strength would surprise you, sir. "

"H'm!" said the Captain, with a glance at Sergeant Archelaus. 

"The other--but where is Tregaskis?"

"Gone off, sir, to do business with the steward, " explained Archelaus, saluting. 

"The other is a Mr. Tregaskis, a respectable man, and our principaltradesman in Garland Town. He has a design, I believe, to sell youwhatever you may want in the way of fresh provisions. "

"Certainly. The steward can go ashore, too, and do business with him, and his boat will bring the others back. Here--Hoskings! Arnott!"Captain Whitaker called to a couple of seamen, and sent a third off tosummon the steward. 

Five minutes later the Commandant found himself back in his boat, seated besides the _Milo's_ steward, and confronting a tall pile ofluggage. The two seamen had already put off with Mr. Tregaskis in thesteward's boat. 

"And you will present my duty to Madame?" said Madame's maid, lookingdown from the ship's side. "And tell her that I charge myself to seethe rest of her luggage safe to the hotel, where I will report myselfand wait for Madame's orders. "

Captain Whitaker waved good-bye. Archelaus pushed off and fell to theoars. The Commandant took the tiller. As the boat pointed for shore thegarrison bell on the hill rang out nine o'clock. 

Nine o'clock! The notes of the bell struck apprehension upon theCommandant's heart. His guest would certainly be awake by this time, and as certainly hungry. To be sure, she could not attire herself untilher boxes arrived--at any rate, would not appear. And yet, with such astrong-willed person, he could not be certain. A lady capable oflanding on a foggy night in an evening gown and diamonds, and ofwalking up the street of St. Hugh's in shoes of rose-coloured satin, might well be capable of descending to breakfast in those garments. 

To breakfast!--and as yet that breakfast had to be bought, and oncredit!

He wished now that he had offered to convey Mr. Tregaskis back in hisown boat. He might (he told himself) have broached his proposition onthe way. 

The _Milo's_ steward, affably inclined, let fall a remark or two uponthe Islands. He opined that they were quaint. The poor man meant well, but was a person slightly above his station, and clipped his words. This gave him a patronising tone, which the Commandant, in hisimpatience, found offensive. He answered in curt monosyllables, whichin turn caused the steward to mistake him for a stand-offish gentleman. 

The steward was a very resplendent figure indeed. The morning sunlight, which drew sparkles from the brass-buttoned suit and brass-bound capbeside him, exposed pitilessly the threadbare woof of the Commandant'suniform coat. There had been nothing amiss with the coat, yesterday;nothing to observe, at least--- And, "Confound the fellow!" thoughtthe Commandant, "how am I to get rid of him and have a word withTregaskis?"

For desperate ills, desperate remedies. Drawing alongside the quay, where Mr. Tregaskis and the two seamen had landed and stood waiting, the Commandant called upon his best service voice, concealing the shakein it:

"Mr. Tregaskis!"

"Sir?"

"I desire a word with you. "

"Yes, sir. "

"And in private, " went on the Commandant, stepping ashore and marchingstraight up the steps. 

"Certainly, sir. " After all, and not so long ago, Major Vigoureux hadbeen Governor and Chief Magistrate of the Islands, with power toinflict fine and imprisonment. Mr. Tregaskis (conscious, perhaps, ofsome close dealings in the not remote past) turned obediently and ledthe way to his shop door at the corner of the hill, thence through theshop, and thence to the threshold of a dark parlour behind it, intowhich he was passing when the Commandant's voice brought him to astand. 

"We will talk here, if you please, " said the Commandant. 

"Certainly, sir, " Mr. Tregaskis turned about. 

"I want, " said the Commandant, "half a pound of your best tea, half adozen new laid eggs, an amount of bacon which I leave to you, and a potof marmalade. "

"With pleasure, sir. Anything I can do----"

"And on credit. "

"As I said sir--to be sure--and hoping that I have given satisfactionhitherto--" Mr. Tregaskis, still a trifle flurried, fell to rubbing hishands together, thus producing an appearance of haste before heactually collected himself and hurried to execute the order. 

"Good God!" thought the Commandant to himself. "Am I browbeating thisman?"

He watched as Mr. Tregaskis cut and weighed out the butter and baconand tied them up into parcels, with the help of a small boy summonedfrom the back premises; or rather, the small boy (Melk by name, whichwas short for Melchisedek) did the weighing and tying while Mr. Tregaskis stood over him and exhorted him to look sharp, or he'd nevermake a grocer. The steward watched from the doorway, puffing acigarette, and expressed a hope that he was not excluding the light. The Commandant wished him a thousand miles away. Sergeant Archelaus hadborrowed a light trolley from the quay; the two seamen had loaded it;and already Madame's luggage was half-way up the hill, and mustinfallibly reach the Barracks before Madame's breakfast could overtakeit. 

"And when would you like it sent, sir?" asked Mr. Tregaskis, nodding atthe piles on the counter. 

"Sent?" echoed the Commandant. "I beg your pardon, " he went on hastily. "I had meant to ask you for the loan of a basket. I will carry thethings myself. "

"Indeed, sir?" Mr. Tregaskis hesitated. "You are welcome to a basket, of course, if you think it wise. "

"I am not ashamed to be seen carrying a basket, Mr. Tregaskis. "

"No, indeed, sir! But the hill being steep--and a little exercise woulddo Melk, here, all the good in the world. "

"I prefer to carry the goods myself, I thank you. " (Was everybody in aconspiracy to take the Commandant for a very old man?)

He waited impatiently until the basket was filled, slung it on his arm, and hurried out of the shop with such impetuosity that the steward, still lounging in the doorway, had scarcely time to skip into theroadway and give passage. 

"They must be going in for some kind of feast, up to Barracks, " saidthe boy Melk meditatively, after a pause. 

"Why?" asked Mr. Tregaskis, looking up from the counter. 

"Because, " said the boy, "Old Mother Treacher was here, not ten minutesago, and the way she spent her money was a caution. There's the bestpart of four shillin' in the till, if only you'll look. "

"What did she buy?"

"Eggs mostly--and bacon--and marmalade. "

Mr. Tregaskis walked to his shop door, and stared up the hill after theCommandant. 

"Must be going off their heads, " he decided, and shook his owndoubtfully. "It can't be a merry-makin' either; for, when you come tothink of it, folks don't feast off such things as streaky bacon. "

"Not off this sort, any'ow, " airily agreed the steward, who had beenexamining a piece on the counter. 

 * * * * *

The Commandant had started fiercely enough to climb the hill, but bythe time he reached the bend of the hill where stood the cottage whichhad been Vashti's home he was drawing difficult breath. Indeed, he wason the point of setting down his load and resting when, as he turnedthe corner, he came full upon Mrs. Banfield, the good wife of thepresent occupier, in conversation with Mrs. Medlin, her neighbouracross the road. The two women were staring up the hill, each from herdoorway, but at the sound of the Commandant's footsteps they turned andstared at him instead: whereat he blushed and hung on his heel for amoment before charging through the cross-fire of gossip. 

"Good morning, ladies!"

"Aw, good morning to you, sir, " answered Mrs. Banfield, with a curtsey, and gazed hard at his basket. "Nothing wrong up to the garrison, Ihope?"

"So far as I know, ma'am, nothing at all. "

"Seein' that great stack of luggage go up the hill, " explained Mrs. Medlin, "why naturally it made a person anxious. And when you put acivil question, as I did to Sergeant Archelaus, and he turns round andas good as snaps your head off, why a person can't help putting two andtwo together. "

"Indeed, ma'am, and what did you make the result?" asked theCommandant, politely. 

"Why, sir, Mrs. Banfield here was reckoning that the Government hadsent stores for you at last, and says I, 'You may be right, Sarah, andglad enough we shall a-be to hear of it, for it do make my heart bleedto remember old days and see what the garrison is reduced to in vittlesand small-clothes. But, ' says I, 'the luggage comes from the greatsteamship, and the great steamship comes from America, and thatGovernment would be sending stores from America, even in these days oftinned meats, is what, beggin' your pardon, no person could believethat wasn't born a fool. '"

"Which I answered to Mrs. Medlin, " said Mrs. Banfield, "'Granted, ma'am, ' I said, 'but, food or no food, I'd sooner swallow it thanbelieve what you were tellin' just now. '"

"And what was that?" asked the Commandant, turning on Mrs. Medlin. 

"Why, sir, knowing the Lord Proprietor to be no friend of yours----"

"Hush, Mrs. Medlin--hush, if you please!"

"Of course, sir, if you don't want to hear----"

"I certainly cannot listen to any talk against Sir Cęsar. It would beexceedingly improper. "

"I warn' going to say anything improper, " Mrs. Medlin protestedstoutly. "And I wonder, sir, at your thinking it, after the yearsyou've given good-day to me. "

"Why, bless the woman!" interjected Mrs. Banfield, "you might talk asimproper as you pleased and the Governor wouldn't understand yourdrift--he's that innocent-minded. But what she meant, sir, was that theLord Proprietor had turned you out, belike--as everyone knows he has amind to--and that a new Governor might be coming in your place. "

The Commandant flushed. "My dear Mrs. Banfield, the Lord Proprietor hasnothing to do with the military command here, either to appoint or todismiss. I cannot forbid your gossipping; but it may help you to knowthat every soldier on the Islands holds his post directly under theCrown. "

Mrs. Banfield gazed at the basket with the air of one who, seeming toyield, yet abides by her convictions. "The Crown's a long way off, seemin' to me, " she objected; "and contrariwise I do know that when theLord Proprietor wants his way on the Islands he gets it. Though it wereten times a week, he'd get it, and no one nowadays strong enough tostand up to him. "

"My dear Mrs. Banfield!"

But Mrs. Banfield was not to be checked. "He's a tyrant, " she declared, her voice rising shrilly; "and I'd say it a hundred times, though I wentto the lock-up for it. He's a tyrant: and you, sir, are too simple-mindedto cope with 'em. Yes, yes--'a Christian gentleman'--everyone grants itof you, and--saving your presence--everyone is sorry enough for it. Youwouldn't hurt a fly, for your part. Man, woman, or child, you'd haveevery soul in the Islands to live neighbourly and go their ways inpeace. No doubt 'tis good Gospel teaching, too, and well enough itworked till this rumping little tyrant came along and pushed you aside. Goodness comes easy to you, sir, I reckon; but it bears hard upon uspoor folk that want someone to stand up for us against injustice. "

"The Lord Proprietor, Mrs. Banfield, has a strong will of his own; butI certainly never heard that he was unjust. "

"Then you haven't heard, sir, what's happening over on Saaron?"

"On Saaron, ma'am?"

"On Saaron, sir. .. . Eh? No, to be sure. .. . Folks may suffer on theIslands in these days, but what use to tell the Governor? He was goodto us in his time, but now he has cut himself off from us with his owntroubles. .. . Did anyone tell you, sir, the text that old Seth Hickspreached from, over to St. Ann's, at the last service before the LordProprietor closed the Meeting House? 'I will lift up mine eyes, ' saidhe, 'to the hills, from whence cometh my help, ' and then, having givenit out, the old fellow turned solemn-like t'ards the window that looksacross here to Garrison Hill. 'Amen, ' said some person in thecongregation; 'but 'tis no use, brother Seth, your seeking in thatquarter. '"

The Commandant, who had set down his basket, lifted it again wearily. "Mrs. Banfield, " said he, "won't you at least put it down to my creditthat, having (as you say) my own troubles, I don't bother my neighbourswith 'em?"

"Why, bless your heart, sir--that ever I should say it--that's whathurts us sorest! We can fit and fend along somehow, never you mind; butwhen for years you shared our little tribylations and taught us, forrigner, tho' you were, to be open with 'ee as daylight, it do seemcruel that you can't enjoy a bit of trouble on your own account but youmust take it away and hide it. "

The Commandant's eyes moistened suddenly. "Is that how the Islanderslook at it, Mrs. Banfield?"

"It is, sir. "

"Well, well, " said the Major. "I never guessed. .. . I am a blind oldfool, it seems. But"--and here, blinking away the moisture, he smiledat Mrs. Banfield almost gaily--"I can begin at once to make amends. Theluggage that went up the hill, just now, belongs to--to a friend ofmine--a visitor who will be my guest for a short while at the Barracks. And this"--he tapped the basket--"is for my friend's breakfast. Inexchange for this information you shall tell me now what is the matterover at Saaron. "

"The matter is, the Lord Proprietor has given the Tregarthens notice. "

The Commandant's eyes grew round in his head as he stared at Mrs. Banfield, who answered by nodding her head briskly, as though each nodwas the tap of a hammer driving home a nail. 

"What? Eli Tregarthen--that married Cara's younger daughter--that usedto live--" The Commandant recited this much in the fashion of a childrepeating "The House that Jack Built. " His gaze wandered past Mrs. Banfield to the blue-painted doorway behind her. 

"It don't matter, that I can see, where the woman used to live, " saidMrs. Banfield; "but it do matter to my mind that a Tregarthen hasfarmed Saaron for six generations, and now 'tis pack-and-go for 'em. "

"But why?"

"Why?" echoed Mrs. Banfield, fiercely. "Because, as you was tellin'just now, sir, my lord has a strong will. Because my lord wants Saaronfor his own. Because he wants to shoot rabbits. Because rabbits be ofmore account to him than men--and I don't blame him for it, seein' thatall the men on the Islands be turned to mice in these days. Oh, 'tis anold tale! But there! You never heard of it. You never heard--notyou--that the man was even unjust!"

"But, my dear Mrs. Banfield----"

"Go'st thy ways, good Governor. You was the poor man's friend--onetime; but now there's too much Christianity in you. .. . And no more willI answer until you tells me who your guest is, that eats two breakfastsin one morning. "

The Commandant gazed at her in mild surprise. Doubtless he would haveasked the meaning of this cryptic utterance; but at this moment the twoseamen from the _Milo_ issued forth from the gateway up the road; and, descending a few paces, turned to call back farewell to Mrs. Treacher, who, having escorted them so far, halted under the arch and stood, withhands on hips, to watch them out of sight. 

"Wish 'ee well, I'm sure!" said Mrs. Treacher. "You understand we bepoor people in these parts. "

"Don't mention that, ma'am, " said one of the seamen, politely. 

"There's no talk of favours, as between us and Madame, " called out theother. 

They passed the Commandant and saluted. On a sudden it struck him thatthese men would expect a small monetary acknowledgment for theirtrouble; and hastily nodding good-morning to Mrs. Banfield and Mrs. Medlin, he ran staggering up the slope to the gateway. 

"Mrs. Treacher!" he panted, dumping down his burden, "I--er--it sohappens that I have no small change about me. "

"Me either, " said Mrs. Treacher, idiomatically, and bent over thebasket. "What's this?"

"You will forgive my mentioning it, Mrs. Treacher; but these goodfellows very likely expected a sixpence or so for their trouble. If youwouldn't mind lending me back--for a short time only, a couple ofshillings out of the four that--that I----"

"Very sorry, sir, " said Mrs. Treacher, "but I spent 'em. "

"What! Already?"

"Which I didn't like, " pursued Mrs. Treacher, stonily, "to insult thelady's stomach with the kind of eatables I found in the larder. Sowhile you was away, sir, I took the liberty to slip down toTregaskisses and lay out three shillings. Which, finding no one incharge but that half-baked boy of his, I got good value for the money;and a sight better bacon than this, I don't mind saying--for all youhave been so lavish. "

She peered into the basket and looked up sharply. It was across-examining look, and seemed to ask where he had found the moneyfor all this extravagance. The Commandant, evading it, turned andstared down the road, where already the two seamen had passed out ofsight. 

"You needn't mind them, sir, " said Mrs. Treacher, reassuringly. "It'slight come and light go with sailors. "

Nevertheless, when the Commandant turned to accept the assurance, halfeagerly and yet less than half convinced, she would not meet his eye;but picked up the basket and staggered along with it to the Barrackdoor. "There's a saying, " said Mrs. Treacher, eagerly, halting there, "that sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. I've found itcomforting before now. But it don't seem to allow for three meals perdiem; and how to make bacon and eggs for dinner look different frombacon and eggs for breakfast is a question that'll take thought. Youdidn't happen to think upon cheese, now?"

"I did, " said the Commandant, triumphantly. "There's half a pound ofcheese--the very best Cheddar--or, so Tregaskis assured me. "

"Tregaskis!" Mrs. Treacher put down her nose and sniffed the basket. "Tregaskis never sold better than third-class American in all hislife. "

"She comes from America, " the Commandant hazarded. 

"I shouldn't advise you to build on that, " said Mrs. Treacher, dubiously; "but we'll hope for the best; and with beer in the place oftea it mayn't look altogether like breakfast over again. "

He was stepping into the passage when she touched his sleeve in suddencontrition. 

"I didn't mention it before, sir; but hearing as the sailors hadbrought up her boxes, she outs with this and asks me to give it to themfor their trouble. "

Mrs. Treacher held out a golden sovereign. The Commandant stared at it. 

"You kept it back?" he gasped. 

"I had to, sir. A couple of ignorant seamen--that didn't want it, either!"

"Give it to me!"

"There's one blessing--you can't possibly overtake 'em, " said Mrs. Treacher, as the Commandant snatched the coin. 

He gazed down the hill, and decided that to this extent she was right. With one hand gripping the sovereign, and the other lifted to hisdistraught brow, the Commandant strode to the room where Vashti sat atbreakfast. She looked up and welcomed him with a gay smile. 

CHAPTER XI

PLAN OF CAMPAIGN

Vashti sat on the low stone wall beyond the Keg of Butter Battery andgazed out over the twinkling Sound and the Islands. The wall ran alongthe edge of the cliff and moreover was ruinous, as the Commandant hadcautioned her when she chose her perch. 

For a while she did not appear to have heard him, but sat with lipshalf-parted as though they drank in their native air, and with eyeshalf-closed--but whether in mere delight or because through the presentthey were looking into the past, the Commandant could not determine. She had invited him after breakfast to conduct her round the oldfortifications, and he had done so in some dread of her questions andcomments. But she had asked scarcely a question and made no comment atall. She was thinking less of the change in his batteries and defencesthan of the change in him, as with a deeper knowledge of women he mighthave divined. In the inanimate work of man's hands woman takes no realinterest, whatever she may feign, but of man himself she is insatiablycurious and critical. So while the Commandant, moving with her from onebattery to another, had halted and stared down on the grass-grownplatforms, ashamed and half-afraid lest by lifting his eyes he shouldchallenge her pity, he missed to perceive and missed altogether toguess that hers were occupied in taking note of him, of his thread-barecoat, of the stoop of his shoulders, of the whitened hair brushed backfrom his temples. 

They had made the round of the batteries in almost complete silence;and coming to the wall above the Keg of Butter she had perched herselfthere and bent her eyes seaward. 

She may or may not have been aware that this gave him opportunity totake stock of her in his turn, and that he was using it verydeliberately, letting his gaze travel over her profile, or so much ofit as she presented to him, and so from point to point of her attiredown to her well-made walking shoes--all with a kind of grave wonder. Once only he glanced up and to the northward, where low on the horizona faint line of smoke lingered in the wake of the _Milo_, alreadyhull-down on her way; and his glance seemed to ask for assurance thathe was not dreaming, that the steamship had really come and gone andleft him this unaccountable guest. 

It was just at this moment that she answered him. 

"Yes, I can easily understand that you feel it, " she said in a musingtone. 

"Eh?" The Commandant had almost forgotten his warning about the ruinousstate of the wall. His eyes had wandered back from the horizon to theclose coils of hair above her neck and to the lobe of her small earwhich (as he found himself noting) had never been pierced to admit anearring. She turned, and as she caught his gaze he blushed in no littleconfusion. 

With the point of her sunshade she indicated the deserted battery onhis left. 

"Though I suppose, " she went on, still musing, "all thesefortifications were really out of date for years before Governmentdismantled them. "

"If that were true, " he replied, "it would date my uselessness furtherback than ever. "

"Your uselessness?" she echoed, and now it was her eyes that expresseda grave wonder. "But you were Governor of the Islands; and you areGovernor still, are you not?"

"These batteries, " he went on hastily, "though antiquated, were neverout of date, never useless; and there will be reason enough to regretthem if ever an enemy's squadron makes a pounce on the Islands. "

"Poor little Islands!" Vashti looked across the Sound with a smile. "Itseems almost comic somehow that anyone should dream of attacking them!"

"Ah!" said he, almost bitterly, "you have been living in great citiesand enlarging your mind. "

"And in great cities, you imply, it is easy to despise, to forget?" Shelaughed softly. "Brefar--Saaron--Inniscaw!" she murmured, addressingthe Islands by name, "here is one who tells me I forget you! Sir, wewill take a boat this very day, and I will sail you out to the OffIslands and prove to you if I forget. "

"There is no need, Miss Vashti"--he hesitated over the "Miss, " but shedid not correct him, and he went on more boldly. "I had a talk thismorning with Captain Whitaker, of the _Milo_. "

Vashti looked up with a quick smile. "He told you?. .. I am so glad!Yes, yes: I did not in the least want to have all those passengerscrowding around me and paying me ridiculous compliments. But falsemodesty is another thing altogether, and I don't mind telling you I amquite inordinately proud of myself. "

"You have a right to be. "

"--as I don't mind confessing that I was horribly afraid at the time. But I am glad again, that Captain Whitaker told you. It was prettygood--eh?--after fifteen years. "

She asked it frankly; not archly at all, but with a sudden earnest lookthat seemed to hold some sadness; and before the Commandant could replythis sadness grew and became so real that he wondered at his havingdoubted it at first glance. 

"Fifteen years!" she went on. "We all have a quarrel against time, wemen and women, but on grounds so different that a man scarcelyunderstands a woman's grievance nor a woman a man's. With you it allrests in your work. Fifteen years knock holes in your fortifications, tumble your guns into the sea, send along a new generation of men topull down what you have built, to rebuild in a flurry of haste, and seetheir work in its turn criticised and condemned by yet a new company ofbuilders. At this we women only look on and marvel. Why all this fuss, we ask, over what you do? Why all this hopeful, hopeless craving toleave something permanent? The Islands, here, will outlast anything youcan build. I come back after fifteen years, and they are unchanged;they would be unchanged were I to come back after a hundred. The samerocks, the same bracken, the same hum of the tides; the same flowers;the same blue here, below us, the same outline of a spear-head there, beyond St. Ann's, where the tide forces through the slack water; thesame streak of yellow yonder on the south cliffs of Saaron. .. . Ourgrievance is more personal, more real . .. And so should yours be, ifyou could only see it. It is to ourselves--to you and me, to any manand woman--that time makes the difference. You worry over yourfortifications. Why? It is in ourselves that the tragedy lies. To loseour looks, our voice--to grow old and mumble--" She broke off with ashiver. 

The Commandant smiled sadly. He had too much sense to pay an idlecompliment. "If that be the tragedy, Miss Vashti, " said he, "then weare wise in our folly, which bids us rest our hopes in our work thoughits permanence be all an illusion. We cannot cheat ourselves with atale that we shall not grow old, but we are able to believe, howevervainly, that our work will live. "

"Yes, " she admitted, "you are wise in your vanity--or would be, were itwisdom to shut one's eyes to fate. Let us grant that men are happierthan women--than childless women at any rate. You do not know what itis to be a singer, for instance; to wake up each morning to a fear 'Hasmy voice gone? One of these days it will certainly go, but--Lord, notyet!' We must build on what we have. We must cling to our youth, knowing that after our youth comes darkness. No, sir, I do not blamemen for setting up their rest upon what they do rather than uponourselves; but for setting it upon that part of their work which, beingthe more visible, the more visibly decays. "

The Commandant pondered while his eyes studied the grass-grownplatform. He shook his head. "You puzzle me, Miss Vashti, " heconfessed. 

"Why, sir, you have been mooning around these fortifications quite asthough they had made up your life and their ruins stood for your brokenpurposes; whereas for fifteen years you have been Governor of theIslands and my sister tells me you are a good man. Surely, then, yourreal life has lain in the justice you have done, the wrongs you haverighted, the trust you have built up in the people's hearts, and not inthese decaying walls which no enemy ever threatened in your time norfor a hundred years before you came. "

But again the Commandant shook his head. 

"I say nothing of the first few years, " he answered slowly. "I likedthe people and I tried to do justice. But all that has passed out of mycontrol. The Lord Proprietor takes everything into his own hands. "

"Still on the Council--" she urged. 

"I am no longer a member of the Council. "

"You resigned? Why?"

"Because I saw that Sir Cęsar was bent on humiliating me; and he hadthe power. "

Vashti prised at a loose stone from the wall with the point of hersunshade. 

"I have read somewhere, " she said, after a pause, "that no wise manshould avoid being a magistrate, because it is wrong to refuse help tothose who need it, and equally wrong to stand aside and let worse mengovern ill. "

"The Lord Proprietor does not govern ill. He likes his own way; but heis a just man--" The Commandant hesitated and paused. 

"A just man until you happen to thwart him. Is that what you were goingto say?"

"No, " he answered, smiling. "I was about to say that once or twice Ihave found him something less than fair to me. To others--" But here hepaused again, remembering that morning's conversation on the hill. 

"I do not much believe, " persisted Vashti, "in men who act justly solong as they are not thwarted. .. . But you would remind me no doubtthat, if questions are to be asked and answered this morning, it is Iwho should be giving an account of myself. Well, then, I have come tothe Islands with a little plan of campaign in my mind, and last nightit occurred to me suddenly that you were the very person to help. Iam--you will excuse my telling you this, but it is necessary--apassably rich woman; that is to say, I have more money than I want tospend on myself, after putting by enough for a rainy day; and I canearn more again if I want more. I have no 'encumbrances, ' as foolishpeople put it; no relatives in the world but my sister Ruth and herchildren. No two sisters ever loved one another better than did Ruthand I. We lost our mother early, when Ruth was just three years old, and from then until she was a grown woman I had the mothering of her, being by five years the elder. You have seen something like it, I daresay, in other poor families where the mother has been taken; but I tellyou again that never were pair more absolutely wrapped up in oneanother than were Ruth and I. We shared each other's thoughts by day, we slept together and shared each other's dreams. Oh!"--Vashti claspedher hands and looked up with brimming eyes--"I can see now howbeautiful it all was. "

The Commandant bowed his head gravely. "I can believe it, " he said; andas if he had stepped back fifteen years he found himself standing againon the hill and looking in upon the fire-lit room--only now the pictureand the two figures in it shone with divine meaning. 

"I know what you would ask, " she went on. "Why, then, you would ask, did I ever leave the Islands?. .. But this had always been understoodbetween us. I cannot tell you how. For years we never talked about it, yet we always talked as if, some day, it must happen. The fate was onus to be separated; and the strange part of it was, " continued Vashti, throwing out her hands involuntarily, and with this action changing asit were from a confident woman back to a child helpless before itsdestiny, "we understood from the first that I, who loved the Islands, must be the one to go, while Ruth would find a husband here and settledown, nor perhaps ever wish to cross over to the mainland. You see, ofthe two I was the reader; and sometimes when I read Shakespeare toher--for we possessed but a few books, and some of these, like 'ThePilgrim's Progress, ' had no real scenery in them to take holdof--sometimes when I read Shakespeare, or 'The Arabian Nights, ' or'Mungo Park's Travels, ' and the real world would open to me, withcities like London, or Venice, or Bagdad, and with woods like theForest of Arden, and ports with shipping and great empty deserts, thenRuth would catch hold and cling to me, as if I was slipping away andleaving her before the time. .. . Yet we both knew that the time mustcome, in the end. Do you understand at all?" she broke off to ask. 

"Yes, " he answered. "I cannot tell how, but as you put it I seem to seeit all. "

She glanced at him with a quick, grateful smile. "Well, that is justhow it happened, and if I were to explain and explain I couldn't makeit any clearer. You understand, too, there was never any question of myleaving Ruth until she was grown a woman and could see with a woman'seyes. Then I knew she was safe. She had more common-sense even than I. She was born to marry--I never doubted that; but when I saw also thatshe was a woman to choose for herself and choose wisely--why, then Isaw also, and all of a sudden, that the time had come and I was betterout of the way; better, because a teacher has to know when to stop andtrust the teaching to prove itself. Else by lingering on, he may easilydo dreadful mischief, and all with the best will in the world. Do youunderstand this, too?"

Again the Commandant bent his head; for again, without knowing how orwhy, he understood. 

"Well, I left the Islands, and there is no need to trouble you with myown story--though some day I will tell it if you care to hear. Itcontains a great deal of hard work, much good fortune, some suffering, too; and on the whole I am a very grateful woman, as I ought to be. .. . But we were talking of Ruth. She married, as she was born to marry, andher husband is a good man. She has children, and her letters are fullof their sayings and doings, as a happy mother's should be. So, yousee, our instinct was wise, and I did well to depart. "

The Commandant considered this for a moment before answering: for hertone conveyed a question, almost a challenge. 

"You were wise, perhaps, to go. But why in all these years have younever come back?"

She looked at him earnestly, and nodded. "Yes, " she said, "I was afraidyou would ask that; and yet I am glad, for it forces me to makeconfession, and I shall feel better to get it over. .. . Ruth loves mestill, you see; but, of course, her husband comes first, and after herhusband--if not sometimes before him--her children. That is as itshould be, of course. "

"Of course, " the Commandant echoed. 

"And of course I foresaw it. Remember, please, that I foresaw it beforeever there was a question of young Tregarthen; so that my jealousy, ifyou are going to laugh at it, had nothing to do----"

"I am not in the least inclined to laugh. "

"Thank you. We were not as ordinary sisters, you see, and . .. And thereis another thing I must tell you, " she went on with a brisk change oftone. "Though Ruth and I have always written regularly, there is onething I have always kept hidden from her--I mean my success, as youwill call it. At first this wasn't deliberate at all. .. . A great chancecame to me, a chance so good that I could hardly believe--yes, soincredible even to me, that I dared not talk of it, but walked humbly, and taught myself to think of it as a dream from which I must awake, and awake to find people laughing at my hopes. I hid it even fromRuth. .. . Afterwards, when the dream had become a certainty, it seemedyet harder to tell her. I had concealed so much, and to tell her nowseemed like triumphing over her--so full her letters were of simplethings and of her happiness in them. I was afraid my news would overaweher, would change her in some way; that she would think me some grandperson, and not the sister to whom she had told all her mind--not, youmust understand, that Ruth could be envious if she tried. But have younever seen how, when a man grows rich or powerful suddenly, his oldfriends, the best of them, draw away from him, not in envy at all, butjust because they feel he has been taken from them?"

"Yes, " said the Commandant, "I have seen such cases. "

"And I wanted still to be Vazzy to her--even though I must come afterhusband and children. "

"She knows, then, as little about your--your success--or almost aslittle, as I do?" asked the Commandant, quaintly. 

Vashti broke into a gay little laugh. "But I am going to tell her now, "she answered, rising--"and that is where I want you to help me. She hasno idea at all that I am here, and I want--that is my little plan--tolook in upon her before I make myself known. I want to see Ruth--my ownRuth--moving about her house; to feed my eyes on her good face, andlearn if it has changed as I have tried to picture it changing; to knowher as she has been during these years, not as she will be when we havekissed and I have told her. .. . I would steal upon her children, too, and watch them. .. . It is wonderful to think of Ruth's children!"

She sprang on to the crumbling wall, and stood erect there, shading hereyes, gazing towards Saaron Island, where the forenoon sun flashed uponthe beaches and upon the roof of one small farm, half hidden in a foldof the hills. The Commandant put out a hand to steady her, for herperch was rickety and almost overhung the sea. 

"Ruth is there!. .. To think of her so happy there--to see her, almost!Oh, sir--but if you could understand that the nearer I have travelledback, the more foolish my jealousy has seemed to grow, with every fear, every doubt!"

"Miss Vashti"--the Commandant spoke seriously, still with his armstretched out ready to grip her by the skirt if she should over-balanceherself or the treacherous wall give way--"I am glad, for your sister'ssake, you have come; but I must warn you that all is not right onSaaron Island. "

She turned slowly, and looked down upon him there from her altitude. 

"What is not right?" she asked; and, while he hesitated, "You are nottelling me that her letters have hidden anything?"

"No. "

"Is it illness, then? Has anything happened to the children?"

"No, " he answered again, and without more ado he told her the news hehad heard from Mrs. Banfield. 

"But"--she still looked down on him wondering--"but you told me justnow that the Lord Proprietor was a just man?"

"I have not looked at the rights and wrongs of the case, " he saidhastily, conscious that he was incurring her scorn. "The LordProprietor may have much to say on his side. "

"You have not inquired, then?"

"The news came to me only this morning, quite by chance. "

"By chance?" she caught him up, and, springing off the wall, stood onthe firm turf facing him. "But you are, or were, Governor of theIslands. "

Again he bent his head. "I have told you that I no longer serve theCouncil even. The Lord Proprietor does not consult me. "

Vashti gazed around her, on the broken roof of the ammunition shed, thedismantled platform, the unkempt glacis below it. "For what work, then, do they pay you?" she asked, bitterly. 

"For none, " he answered, but without resentment. "And--excuse me--" hewent on, fumbling in his pocket, and producing a sovereign, which hetendered to her, "but your mention of pay reminds me to return youthis, which Mrs. Treacher has handed to me. It appears--I mustapologize for her--that she received it from you to give to the men whocarried up your box from the steamer; but that, being a littlefrightened at the amount, she withheld it, thinking that possibly youhad made a mistake. "

Vashti took the coin. Her face was yet flushed a little--as he read it, with anger. 

"It is true, " said she pensively, "that I am fifteen years a strangerhere. "

His face brightened. "Ah, " said he, "if you will make allowance forthat, we may yet put everything right!"

CHAPTER XII

SAARON ISLAND

Saaron Island lies about due north of Brefar, which looks eastward uponInniscaw across the narrow gut of Cromwell's Sound. There was a time(the tale goes) when these three Islands made one. At low-water springsyou may cross afoot between Saaron and Brefar, and from either of them, with a little more danger, to Inniscaw, picking your way between thepools and along the sandy flats that curve about the southern end ofthe Sound and divide it from the great roadstead. Also there arelegends of stone walls and foundations of houses laid bare as thewaters have sunk after a gale, and by the next tides covered again withsand. 

But of the past history of Saaron next to nothing could be told, evenby Ruth's husband, young Farmer Tregarthen, who rented the Island andthe one habitable house upon it. He could not even have explained howso bleak a spot as Saaron had come to possess this farmhouse, which wasone of the roomiest on the Islands. He only knew that it had been builtfor one of his forefathers, and that this forgotten Tregarthen, or theLord Proprietor who had chosen him for tenant, must have held ambitiousviews of the amount of farming possible on Saaron. So much might beguessed from the size and extent of the out-buildings. The "chall" orbyre, for instance, had stalls for no less than twelve cows, whereasto-day all the Island's hundred-and-twenty acres barely affordedpasturage for two. Considering this, he was divided between twoopinions; the first, that his ancestors had pastured their cattle uponBrefar, driving them to and fro across the flats at low water; thesecond, that in the old days the soil had been fertile, and that eitherthe sand, which drove across it in the prevailing westerly winds, devastating every green herb, had started its invasion within the lasthundred years or so, or that his forerunners had possessed and lostsome art of coping with it. He had trenched the sand in many places onthe southern and easterly slopes of the two hills into which the Islandwas divided, and along the valley between them, and everywhere, at thedepth of two feet or less, the spade found a fine, strong clay, capableof carrying any crop. 

Young Farmer Tregarthen in his slow way pondered a deal over this andsimilar problems. Indeed, you might say that in one sense the Islandwas never out of his thoughts. He had been born on it. At the age ofsixteen he had succeeded to the farm (though it was nominally leased tohis mother), and to the fight which his father had begun--the warfarewhich his enemy, the sand, never allowed him to relax. He could almostremember his father resuming it and repairing the stone hedges whichenclosed the old fields. In those days Saaron had supported, or failedto support, five families; but of these all but Tregarthen had losttheir clutch on the barren rock and drifted away to other islands. Hecould remember their going. He passed their roofless cottages half adozen times a day. 

They had subsisted mainly by kelp-making and piloting, helped out (itis to be feared) by more than a little smuggling. There wereconclusions to be drawn from the cellars in the farmhouse, too amplefor the needs of a small farmer. Tregarthen had a shrewd notion thatmost of the guineas which his mother had hoarded in a stocking had comeat one time or another from the contraband trade; also he had a notionthat his father's renewed activities in digging and hedging must havecoincided pretty accurately with the building of the coastguard stationupon St. Lide's and the arrival of a Divisional Officer. But ifsmuggling flourished once, it had fallen on evil days, and its secretshad been hidden from his childhood. Also about that time the pilotagehad decayed in competition with the licensed pilots on St. Ann's, andbut a few hovelling jobs in and about Cromwell's Sound fell to theshare of the men of Saaron. (He could recall discussions and injuriouswords, half-understood at the time, faint echoes of that old quarrelbetween the two islands. )

But the kelp-making had been in full swing; and the business had aplenty of mystery and picturesqueness to bite it upon a child's memory. All the summer through, day after day, at low water, the Islanderswould be out upon the beaches cutting the ore-weed and dragging it insledges up the foreshore, where they strewed it above high-water mark, to dry in the sun. On sunny days they scattered and turned it, on wetdays they banked it into heaps almost as tall as arrish-mows. Frommorning until evening they laboured, and towards midsummer, as the nearbeaches became denuded, would tail away, in twos and threes, and wholefamilies, to camp among the Off Islands and raid them; until, whenAugust came and the kelping season drew to an end, boat after boatwould arrive at high-water and discharge its burden. 

These operations filled the summer days; but it was towards nightfallthat the real fun began. For then the men, women, and children wouldgather and build the kilns--pits scooped in the sand, measuring aboutseven feet across and three feet deep in the centre. While the menfinished lining the sides of the kiln with stones, the women and girlswould leap into it with armfuls of furze; which they lighted and so, strewing the dried ore-weed upon it, built little by little into ablazing pile. The great sea-lights which ring the Islands now make abrave show; but (say the older inhabitants) it will not compare withthe illuminations of bygone summer nights, when as many as forty kilnswould be burning together, and island signalling to island withbonfire-lights that flickered across the roadsteads and danced on thewild tide-races. From four to five hours the kilns would be keptburning, and the critical moment came when the mass of kelp began toliquefy, and word was given to "strike. " Then a dozen or fourteen menwould leap down with pitchforks and heave the red molten mass from sideto side of the kiln, toiling like madmen, while the sweat ran shiningdown their half-naked bodies; and sometimes--and always on MidsummerEve, which is Baal-fire night--while they laboured the women and girlswould join hands and dance round the pit. In ten minutes or so all thisexcitement would die out, the dancers unlock their hands the men climbout of the pit and throw themselves panting on the sand, leaving thekelp to settle, cool, and vitrify. But while it lasted the boy knew ofno excitement comparable with it. Little wonder that he rememberedthose fiery pits with the dark figures dancing around their brims! Butyet more unforgettable was the smell of the burning kelp had been morethan enough--that acrid, all-permeating, unforgettable odour. Hismother had never been able to endure it. When the wind drove the smokefrom the beach, she would shut every door and window, and build upevery crevice with a barricade of sandbags; all in vain. It crept intothe house, choking the besieged, causing their eyes to smart and theirheads to ache, and scenting clothes, linen, furniture. Even the foodtasted of it. 

The kelp-making, however, was but a memory now, though a pungent one. Anight's work at the kiln produced from two to three hundred-weight, andthe price in the good seasons ranged from £4 to £5 a ton; so manyshared the labour that a family had much ado to earn £10 in a wholeseason. Under such conditions, too, the work was roughly done. Toooften the sides of the kiln would fall in and the sand--always thecurse of Saaron--would mingle with the kelp and spoil it. And when somewiser folk in Scotland learned to prepare it under cover, in ovens withpaved floors, the Islanders lost their market, almost in a singleseason. 

Tregarthen could recall the kelp-making, but neither the circumstancesof the collapse nor the sufferings that followed it. Children observethe toil, but are usually quite blind to the troubles of their elders. He only knew that the poorer families almost of a sudden drifted awayfrom Saaron, that he and his father and mother were left alone on theisland, that his father had begun to busy himself with farming andrequired his help, and that in consequence he was released fromlessons. His mother, a farmer's daughter from Holy Vale in St. Lide's--the one nook in the Islands where you lost sight and almostsound of the sea, and could look out of window upon green trees--was abetter-most person and something of a scholar. (The Tregarthens hadalways gone to the main island for their wives. ) She taught the boy toread, to write a little, and even to cipher up sums in addition andsubtraction. Also she took him over to Brefar to church on every fineSunday and taught him his catechism, on the chance (often rumoured)that the Bishop would come across from the mainland to hold aConfirmation. But the Bishop of those days had a weak stomach, and, onthe advice of his doctor, kept postponing the voyage. 

Thus the boy grew up into a strong, slow man, gentle of manners, shy ofthe sound of his own voice, but tenacious of purpose and stubborn whenhis will was crossed. Except for the few months when he went wooingafter Ruth Cara--in the year after his mother's death--his life, hopes, purposes, dreams and waking thoughts concentrated themselves uponSaaron, and from the day he brought his bride home to it the islandbecame more than ever his sufficing world. He knew a thousand smallthings concerning it--secrets of the soil, of the tides, of the sanddrift--voices of the wind, varying colours of the sea, and what weatherthey foretold--where this moss grew, that bird nested--in what week thewild duck arrived, on what wind the geese might be looked for, and whatfeeling in the spring air announced that the guillemots were due. Hehad learnt these things unconsciously, and was quite unaware of hisknowledge, having never an occasion to review it or put it into words. Moreover, it was strangely limited. To his ancestors, to the folk whohad lived here before him, he never gave a thought, except to wonderwhat their tillage had been or why they had rounded off a hedge at suchand such a corner. Of the history of his own farm-house he could tellyou next to nothing, and nothing at all of the small ruined church hepassed at least twice a day--though this testified that Saaron had beenpopulous once on a time. How long had the Tregarthens lived on theIsland? How far back beyond the five or six generations attested by thesignatures on old leases hidden away in his strong-box? One might aswell ask how long the sandpipers and oyster-catchers had bred on theirseparate grounds under the north slope of the cliffs towards Brefar. Onthe summit of the hill stood eleven mounds, and in each mound (sotradition said) lay the burnt bones of royalty. Was he, perhaps, descended from these Island kings? Tregarthen would not have givensixpence to discover. They were dead, and less than names: the place oftheir burial belonged to him, and he had to wring a livelihood from itto support his wife and family. Sometimes, when he thought of his threeyoungsters--of the boy especially--the man felt a vague longing whichpuzzled him as well by its foolishness as by its strength; a longing topass, when his time came, into these barren acres and watch (thoughhelplessly) while his heir improved what he had painfully won. It wasabsurd, of course, to desire any such perpetuity; wicked, perhaps. Itcould not be reconciled with heaven and the future life promised by theBible. Yet it haunted him, though at rare intervals, and notimportunately. To the past he gave never a thought. 

Ruth Tregarthen, his wife, was one of those women who find theirhappiness within their own doors. The farm-house stood some way up theslope of the southern hill, facing eastward over the valley whichcurved a little at its feet and spread into a line of small flatmeadows around the East Bay, where the farmer kept his two boats; andthe site had been chosen here to avoid the seas which, with a galefalling on top of the equinoctial springs, are driven up the valleyfrom east and west, and meet to form an isthmus, cutting the Island intwo. 

The state-rooms of the farm-house--parlour, hall, and bestbedrooms--looked eastward upon Cromwell's Sound; but the waters of theSound were hidden from the lower windows by a stout hedge of tamarisk. The kitchen window at the back--by far the largest in the house, as thekitchen itself, where the family took its meals on every day butChristmas Day and Good Friday, was the true focus of thehousehold--looked across the town-place, or farm-yard, upon anothertall hedge of tamarisk, above which climbed the hill, steep, strewnwith small white stones, shutting out the Atlantic. 

The kitchen table stood close beside this window, just beyond the edgeof the bacon-rack; and directly opposite, across the wide paved floor, was a wide open hearth, fitted with crooks and brandises, where all theday long something or other would be cooking, and where the nightthrough the logs smouldered and fell in soft grey ash, to be fed andstirred to flame again in the early morning. Yes, and as though thiswas not enough, the hearth had beside it an iron door which, beingopened, disclosed to the children a long narrow hole filled with fire;vision to them of a passage leading straight to hell, though their ownmother (and she so gentle) stoked it with bunches of furze, and drewfrom it loaves and saffron cakes, hot and detectable. 

To the children it seemed that their parents seldom or never talked, and never by any chance took a rest. 

Their names were Annet, Linnet and Matthew Henry, and this was theorder of their ages--Annet nine, Linnet seven, and Matthew Henry risingfive. On fine days they attended school at Inniscaw, being rowed to andfro across the Sound by John Nanjulian (Old Jan), the hind, or Stevy, the farm-boy. These, with Melia Mundy, the house-girl, whose parentslived on Brefar, made up Farmer Tregarthen's employ, and took theirmeals at table with the family. 

The school which Annet, Linnet, and Matthew Henry attended had beenbuilt by the Lord Proprietor on Inniscaw shore, to serve the threeislands of Inniscaw, Brefar, and Saaron. The children brought theirschool-pence weekly, on Friday mornings; but, of course, their pencedid not pay--scarcely even began to pay--for the cost. Also there weredays, and sometimes many days together, when no boat could be putacross; and, considering this, the Lord Proprietor (who was aphilanthropist in his way, but his way happened to be a despotic one)had commanded his architect to prepare plans for a smaller school onBrefar. This, to be sure, would not help the three children on Saaron;but it gave him yet another reason to feel indignant with that fellowTregarthen for clinging so obstinately to his solitude and barrenacres. 

The children themselves did not regret living so far from school; forthey were ordinary healthy youngsters though brighter-witted than most, and felt as other youngsters feel towards that wise and elderlybeneficence which boxes them up in a room for instruction. To be surethey missed the games in the play-ground before and after school; butthis was no such loss as the reader, remembering his own childhood, might be disposed to think. For, sad to tell, only a few of thehundreds of thousands of children attending schools really understandgames, or can be said to have learnt to play, and the Island childrenwere in this respect some way behind their brothers and sisters on themainland. If at whiles the small trio looked back wistfully as old Janrowed them homeward, or if the shouts that followed across the waterfrom the playground now and again reproached them, on the whole theywould not have changed places with their school-fellows even at aprice. After all, no island in the world could compare with Saaron. Their father had never said this, but they were sure that he thoughtit; and their father knew everything. As he walked along he would saysuddenly, "Go there"--but without lifting his eyes, just waving hishand towards the spot--"and there you will find a bunting's nest, or astone-chat's"; nor once in a dozen times would he be mistaken. 

There were compensations, too, in living on an island where on anymorning you might wake and find a gale of wind blowing, forbidding youto go to school. But even in fine weather one could always look forwardto Saturday and Sunday, each a whole holiday. 

It was Saturday. The three had opened their eyes soon after daybreakand lay in their cots "chirruping, " as their mother called it--talking, planning out a campaign of adventures for the long two days beforethem. The sun shone through their nursery window, which faced the East. They had curled themselves to sleep before the great fog came up andcovered the Islands, and the sound of guns had neither awakened themnor reached their dreams. They awoke to a clear morning sky, and whilethey chatted, waiting the order to tumble out and dress, their fatherlooked in at the nursery door and astonished and excited them with newsof a great steamer which had entered the Roads in the night and wasalready lifting anchor to pursue her voyage. 

From the hill above the farmhouse they watched her, after breakfast, asshe steamed past the southern point of the island, nosed her way slowlythrough Chough Sound, between Inniscaw and St. Lide's, and so headedaway to the northward until her smoke lay in a low trail on thehorizon. They had never before seen a steamer of her size. 

Thus strangely began a day which the three had still stranger cause toremember. They had planned to take their dinner wrapped in theirhandkerchiefs and climb to the old tombs on the hill overlookingBrefar, then to play at being Aztecs, from hints which Annet had dugout of an old History of Mexico on her mother's bookshelf, and athiding treasure from the Spaniards, whose ships were to come sailingthrough the Off Islands. Having concealed their hoard, they were eitherto descend upon the Western Bay, which they called The Porth, and thereoffer a bloody resistance to the invaders, or (this was Annet's notion, which for the present she kept to herself) to wait until the northchannel dried and make a desperate escape across the sands to Brefar. The trouble was, she could not be sure of low water being early enoughto let them dash across and back before dusk again. She was a bravegirl--a great deal braver, at least in these adventures, than hersister Linnet; but she had to bear in mind that Matthew Henry was butfive years old and easily tired, and also that if they arrived homeafter dusk her mother would be anxious and her father angry. So shenursed the project in her own heart, and when the three had takenseizin of the northern hill, eaten their manchets of saffron cake, andshared their canful of milk, she took up a post from which, while theothers scanned the offing for Spaniards, she could watch and time theebb of the tide on the flats. 

The afternoon was sunny; the flat rock on which they were perched layout of the wind's reach; and to beguile the interval of waiting Annetdrew out a book which she had brought with her--a much-worn copy ofHans Andersen which had arrived at Christmas, three years ago, as agift from that mysterious Aunt Vazzy of whom their mother talked sooften. Linnet stoutly maintained that this aunt of theirs, whom theyhad never set eyes on, must be a fairy herself--neither more nor less;and Annet had her doubts on this point. But the book, at any rate, wasreal, with a real inscription on the fly-leaf; and the children (thoughsome of the stories puzzled them) believed it to be the most beautifulbook in the world. 

Each child had a favourite story. Matthew Henry's was "The Tinder-Box, "and he would wake in the night from dreams, deliciously terrible, ofthe three dogs "with eyes as big as coach wheels. " Linnet, who had apractical mind, preferred such as dealt with rolling-pins, flat-irons, and shirt-collars, because these were familiar objects, and theirhistories usually ended cheerfully--(she liked "The Ugly Duckling"because he was a duckling, but objected to much of the tale as beingtoo sad). Annet declared for "The Little Mermaid, " which is perhaps thesaddest of all; and this was the one she chose to-day, thoughhalf-penitently, because she felt pretty certain that it would makeLinnet cry. 

But to-day Linnet no sooner recognized the opening of the story thanshe set her face defiantly; and when Annet reached that most patheticpassage where the little mermaid glances down sorrowfully at her fish'stail, and "Let us be merry, " says the grandmother, "let us dance andplay for the three hundred years we have to live, " Linnet lifted herchin, stared hard at the horizon and said resolutely--albeit in a voicethat trembled a little--

"I don't believe there are any such things as mermaids!"

Young Matthew Henry opened his mouth and stared, round-eyed at suchdreadful scepticism. 

Annet, too, gazed up from her book. 

"But the story says there are, " she answered, simply and gravely. 

"Who ever saw one?" persisted doubting Linnet. 

"Hundreds of people--" Annet began, and with that, as a shadow fell onthe rock, she lifted her eyes and uttered a little cry. 

Just above, on the flat tombstone that jutted over the ridge, stood abeautiful lady, and looked down on them. 

CHAPTER XIII

THE LADY FROM THE SEA

How it happened the children never precisely knew. When they came tocompare notes that evening their recollections varied on severalimportant particulars. But this was certain, that before they couldrise and run--and Matthew Henry protested that, for his part, he hadnever an idea of running--the apparition had stepped down from herpedestal and seated herself among them in the friendliest way. 

"Good day!" she nodded. "Now let me see . .. This is Annet, and this isLinnet, and that is Matthew Henry, and I hope you're all uncommonlywell. "

Annet gasped that they were quite well, thank you. Who and what couldshe be, this lady out of nowhere?. .. Not a witch, for no witch couldsmile with such a beautiful face or wear such beautiful clothes. On theother hand, Annet had not supposed that fairies were ever so tall. Yetsomething of the sort she must be, for she knew their names. .. . 

"You want to know where I come from? But that is easy. " The strangerreached out a white hand with a diamond upon it, and Annet yielded thebook to her without resisting. "I come from here"--and she tapped thepages mysteriously. 

"But how can that be?" demanded Linnet, who was always thematter-of-fact one. "Out of a book! Such things do not happen. "

Vashti laughed merrily. "I assure you, " she answered, with a glance atthe fly-leaf, "I have been in the book all the while you were reading;and, " she added, her eyes softening as they rested on the child, "ofyou three it is Linnet who is most like her mother. "

They had not thought of this before, but she had no sooner said it thanthey knew it to be the truth; and the discovery made her moremarvellous than ever. 

"Yes, " she went on, "I have lived inside this book; and, what is more, I know the man who wrote it. "

She looked around on the three faces; and--so strange are children--forthe first time in his life Matthew Henry at once asserted himself as aperson entirely different from his sisters. For Annet and Linnet merelylooked puzzled; to them the book was a book, just as the hill uponwhich they sat was a hill, and they had never troubled their headsabout such a thing as an author. But Matthew Henry opened his infantineeyes still wider. 

"Tell us about him, " he demanded. 

Vashti eyed the child curiously for a moment before answering. "Helives in the north, " she said, "in a city where the sea is sometimesfrozen for weeks in the winter, and where night after night you may seethe Northern Lights over the roofs. That is why he writes so much ofsnow and fir-trees and cold winters. "

Annet nodded. "I have seen the Northern Lights--once--from Saaronhere, " she announced proudly. "Father took me out of my bed and held meup to the window to look at them; Linnet, too--but she was too young toremember, and Matthew Henry was not even born at the time. "

"But tell us, " persisted Matthew Henry, "about the man who wrote thebook. "

"Well, the Northern Lights were shining in the streets on the nightwhen I met him. I drove to his house in a sleigh from the theatre--ifyou know what a theatre is?" Vashti paused dubiously; but Annet noddedand assured her--

"That's all right. We don't know about these things, but they are allin the book. "

"And so, " said Vashti, "is the man himself, or most of him. He was aqueer, shy old man, with oddly-shaped hands and feet, but oh, suchtimid eyes! And he lived in a fine house all by himself, for he had nowife. In the days when he wanted a wife he had been an Ugly Duckling, and now, when he had turned into a swan, it was too late to marry. Hewas very old indeed; but this was his birthday, and he had lit up allhis rooms for us and made a great feast, and at the feast he made mesit on his right hand. .. . There were princesses to do him honour, buthe chose me out because I had sung to him; and the princesses were notangry because he was an old man. Out in the streets the people wereletting off fireworks, and while he talked to me I could hear the wholesky banging with rockets and crackers. It put me in mind of his storyof 'The Flying Trunk. ' But he talked of Italy and the South, because Ihad come from there; and of the Mediterranean and of beautiful inlandlakes which he had known, but would never see again; for he was overseventy. And he told me that, in spite of the snow and frost outside, he could feel the spring coming northward again with the storks. It wasthe last time (he said) that he should ever see it, but he filled hisglass and drank to me because, as he put it, I had sung the South backto him for this last time. So now you know why I was proud to come toyou out of his book. "

"But, " said Linnet, gravely, "we were reading about mermaids; and youcan't be one of _them_, because there aren't any. "

Matthew Henry would by no means allow this. "But Jan's father caughtone, " he objected, "in a pool just inside Piper's Hole, where she wasleft by the tide. He has told us about her, dozens of times. Andbesides, " he added, getting in a home-thrust, "if there isn't any suchthing, why were you crying over the story, just now?"

"I wasn't, " contended Linnet, very red in the face. But she shifted herground. "Why, " pointing to Vashti's skirts--"her clothes aren't evenwet, to say nothing of a tail!"

Vashti laughed. "My dears, you are both right and both wrong. As forthe mermaids, Linnet, they were friends of mine before I reached yourage, and you must let me introduce you to one by-and-by, to cure you ofdisbelieving. But you are right about me. I am not a mermaid; and yet Ihave come from the sea . .. Like the Queen Zenobia. "

"Who was she?" asked Annet, speaking for the others. 

"She was a Queen in Carthage, more than two thousand years ago. Shecame to the Islands in a ship, to visit the tin-mines which used to liebetween them and the mainland before the sea covered them, and fromwhich she drew her great wealth. Her ship arrived in the middle of theGreat Storm; and before she came to land, here on Saaron, the waterswere rolling over the richest part of all her dependencies. Little shecared; for in the first place she had never seen it, and could notrealise her loss, and moreover her ship had been tossing for three daysand nights, past all hope, so that she was glad enough to reach ashore, however barren. She reached it, holding on to the shoulders of abrown man, a Moor, who swam for land as the ship began to break up; andthe story goes that when his feet touched the sand he fell forward anddied, for the swimming had burst his heart. But have you never heardthe song about it?" Vashti sank her voice and began to chant, and lowthough the strain was, and monotonous, the children had never heardsuch wonderful singing--

 It was the Queen Zenobia With her gold crown, That sailed away from Africa With a down-derry-down!

 --To westward and to northward From Carthage town, Beyond the strait of Cadiz The sky began to frown. 

 "Well-a-mercy!" cried her ladies, All of high renown; "I think the sea is troublesome And we shall all drown. "

 The seas came white aboard And wetted her gown; "Would I were back in Carthage A-walking up and down!

 That I were back in Carthage Which is dry ground, I would give my jewels And a thousand pound. "

 Then round went the good ship, And thrice she went round, The third time she brast herself With a down-derry-down!

 Some cried misericordia, And others did swoun; But up there stood a guardsman A naked man and brown--

 "You are the Queen of Carthage And gey young to drown; But hold you to my girdle That goes me around; And swim with me to Saaron, As I will be bound. "

 "Your girdle it is breaking That goeth you around. " "Nay, hold you to the girdle That is strong yet and sound; My heart you felt a-breaking, But here is dry ground. "

 With white sand and shingle The shore did abound; With white sand she covered him And built him a mound. 

 With flotsam and with wreckage The shore was all strown; She built of it a cottage, And there she sat down. 

 "Though this be not Africa, Nor yet Carthage town, Deo-gracey, " said Zenobia, "That I did not drown!"

"That's where the tune changes, " interrupted Matthew Henry, clappinghis small sunburnt hands together. 

"You know the song then?" asked Vashti, looking from one to the other. 

All three nodded. "We know a verse or two, " Annet answered. "Mother wasalways singing it when she rocked Matthew Henry to sleep, and sometimeswe get her to sing as much as she can remember for a treat. "

"But she can only remember five or six verses, " said Linnet; "and hervoice is not beautiful like yours. "

Annet and Matthew Henry protested. Their mother's was a beautifulvoice; one of the most beautiful in the world. 

"But not beautiful like hers, " Linnet persisted. "I mean that it'squite different. "

They admitted this--so much their loyalty allowed them. "And I like theend of the song best, " Linnet went on, "because it's cheerfuller. Itgoes on 'At daybreak she dressed her. .. . '"

But for a moment or two, though she felt the children's eyes fastenedon her expectantly, Vashti did not resume the song. Those sameexpectant eyes were open windows through which she looked into thepast, as into a house tenanted by ghosts. Through Annet's, throughLinnet's, she saw familiarly, recognising the dim children that playedwithin and beyond the shadow of the blinds. But the child MatthewHenry's frightened her. She and Ruth had lost a brother once. He haddied in infancy, a scrap of childhood, almost forgotten. .. . Yes, Matthew Henry's eyes too had a playroom behind them; and there too ashadowy child played at hide and seek. 

Her voice shook a little as she picked up the old song--

 At daybreak she dressed her, Her wet hair she wound, When she saw a lithe shepherd, Stood under the mound. 

 He stood among the wreckage With crook and with hound, Alone in the morning, That most did astound. 

 "O tell to me, lithe shepherd, What king owns this ground?" "No king, ma'am, but Zenobia, A Queen of renown. "

 "Lithe lad, she is shipwrecked; Myself saw her drown. " "Then 'tis you are Queen of Saaron If you will step down. 

 "I have sheep, goat, and cattle And a clear three pound, If you'll mate with me and settle In goods we will abound. "

 "Well-a-way!" sighed Zenobia, "I have lost Carthage town, But I like this lithe shepherd So handsome and brown. 

 "If I marry you, " said Zenobia, "Farewell to renown! If I marry you, " said Zenobia, "I mate with a clown. But I'll marry you for all that, With a down-derry-down!"

"And, " said Linnet, as the song concluded, "they married and had twelvechildren--six boys and six girls. Mother told me about it. "

But Matthew Henry turned to the singer gravely. "Is it true?" he asked. "And are you really Queen Zenobia?"

"Come and see, " said Vashti, rising. "The sands are bare between us andBrefar, and if Linnet is brave enough we will take a boat and she shallbe shown the cave where Jan's father caught the mermaid. "

"But we must get back again, " objected Annet. 

"I will see that you get back again. "

"The sands may not be safe. "

"When you told us yourself that they were quite safe!" protestedMatthew Henry. "And you said you would lead us over and back withoutany danger at all. "

"The fact is, " said Vashti, quietly, "Annet feels herself responsiblefor you, and thinks that very likely I am a witch. "

The child faced her bravely, biting her lip upon the inward struggle. 

"You are not a witch, " she said. "Your eyes are too good. And, besides, there are people in Brefar who will take care of us if we miss our wayback. "

Vashti smiled, and again half sadly, for out of her own past this childconfronted her. "That is brave, Annet; brave enough for the moment, though by and by we shall have to be braver. See how the sands shinebelow us! Shall we race for them and see who wins?"

She took Matthew Henry's small, unresisting hand, and the four pelteddown the slope. Something in Vashti's eyes--it could not have been inthe words of her last answer, for they were mysterious enough--hadapparently reassured Annet, who cast away care and called back intriumph as she won the race down to the golden sands. 

They were damp yet in patches, and these patches shone like metalreflecting the greenish-blue spaces that showed between the clouds inthe heart of the gathering sunset. But along the fairway the sand layfirm to the tread, yet soft to the look as a stretch of amber-colouredvelvet laid for their feet. Beyond rose Brefar, with its lower cliffsin twilight, its rounded upper slopes one shining green. Vashti hadkilted her gown higher and helped the two girls to pin up their shortskirts. All had taken off their shoes and stockings, for here and therea shallow channel must be waded. 

They crossed without mishap, and, having shod themselves again, mountedthe turfy slope where the larks flew up from their hiding-places amongthe stones. Vashti's talk was of the birds, for in all Brefar the spotbest worth visiting is Merriman's Head, where the birds congregate intheir thousands--cormorants, curlews, whimbrels, gulls and kittiwakes, oyster-catchers, sandpipers--these all the year round--and in earlysummer the razorbills and sea parrots. Zenobia, it appeared, knew notonly Merriman's Head, but every rock, down to the smallest and farthestin the Off Islands, where these creatures nested. She spoke to them ofthe island from which Annet took her name--a low-lying ridge to thewest of St. Ann's, curved like a snake, in nesting-time sheeted withpink thrift. There the sea-parrots breed, and so thickly that you canscarcely set foot ashore without plunging into their houses; but thereis a mound near the western end where no sea-parrot may come, for theherring-gulls and the black-backs claim it for their own. She spoke ofGreat Rose, still further westward, where the gulls encamp among theruined huts once used by the builders of the Monk Lighthouse; of LittleRose, where the great cormorant is at home; of Melligan and Carregan, the one favoured by shags, the other by razor-bills and guillemots. Andso talking, while they wondered, she brought them across the hill tothe great headland. 

Merriman's Head, in truth, is itself an islet, being cut off fromBrefar by a channel, scarcely eight feet wide, through which the seasrush darkly with horrible gurglings. The cleft goes down sheer, and wascut, they say, with one stroke of a giant's sword. Beyond it theheadland rises grim and stark--a very Gibraltar of the birds, thatroost in regiments on its giddy ledges. 

As the children came down to the brink a flock of white gulls seemed todrop from the rock, hung in the air for a moment, and began wheelingoverhead in wide circles, uttering their strange cries. A score oflittle oyster-catchers, too, tucked up their scarlet legs and skimmedoff in flight. But the majority kept their posts and looked down almostdisdainfully. 

"They know we can't get to them, " said Matthew Henry. "But wait till Iam grown up! Then I'll come over to Brefar and build a bridge. "

"You will not need a bridge when you are grown up, " said Vashti. "See!"She stepped back a pace or two, and the children, before they guessedher purpose, saw her flash past them and leap. She cleared the chasm, easily alighted, and stood smiling back at them, while the birds pouredout from their ledges, cloud upon cloud of them. Their wings darkenedthe air. Their uproar beat from cliff to cliff, and back again inbroken echoes, like waves caught in a narrow cave and rebounding. Vashti looked up and laughed. Like a witch she stood, waving her armsto them. 

"It is easy, " she called back to the children; "easy enough, if youdon't let the water frighten you. Why, Annet could jump it if shedared. Annet . .. But no, child! go back!"

But Annet, with a quick glance at her, and another at the waterswirling below, had set her teeth and stepped back half-a-dozen paces. She would follow this woman, witch or no witch. 

Linnet cried, too, and Matthew Henry. Vashti, stretching out both handsto wave back the child, opened them suddenly to catch her--and not toosoon, for Annet alighted on a rock that sloped back towards the gulf, and had measured her powers against the leap so narrowly that her heelsoverhung the water and her body was bending backward when Vashtigripped, and, dragging her up to firm ground, took her in both arms. 

"But why? Why, Annet?"

"I don't know, " Annet answered, almost stupidly. The danger past, shefelt faint of a sudden and dazed; nor could she understand what thestrange lady meant by embracing her again, almost with a sob, andmurmuring:

"The little water, and so hard to cross! But we had the courage, Annet--you and I!"

She turned and lifted her voice in a long, full-throated cry, that sentthe birds flying in fresh circles from the eyries over which they werepoising; and before its echoes died between the cliffs a boat cameround the point--a boat with one man in it, and that man MajorVigoureux. 

At another time they might have wondered how a boat came here, and whythe Governor himself--whom they had seldom seen, but regarded from afarwith awe--should be in charge of it. But the afternoon had fed themfull with marvels. Here the great man was, and in a boat, and thestrange lady stood apparently in no awe of his greatness. 

"The little ones are tired, " said Vashti. "We will sail them home andland them on Saaron. "

The Commandant backed his boat skilfully into the passage between thewalls of rock, lifted the two younger ones on board, and then stretchedout a hand to the other shore to help Vashti and Annet. When all werestowed, he pushed out for an offing, and hoisted his small lug-sail, while Vashti took the tiller. 

The breeze blew off the shore. The little boat heeled, flinging thespray merrily from her bows. Beyond and under the slack of the sail agolden sea stretched away to the dying sunset. 

It was an enchanted hour, and it held the children silent. In silencethey were landed on the beach of West Porth, and climbed over the hillto their house. From its summit they looked down upon a small saildancing through the sunken reefs towards the Roads, away into thetwilight where the sea lights already shone from the South Islands. 

CHAPTER XIV

AFTER SERVICE

"They are good children, " said Vashti, as she and the Commandant sat atbreakfast together next morning, which was Sunday. 

The Commandant did not answer for a moment. He was stirring his tea, ina brown study, nor did he note that Vashti's eyes were resting on himwith an amused smile. She supposed these fits of abstraction to behabitual with him, due to living and taking his meals alone; but infact his thoughts were wrestling with two or three very urgentproblems. To begin with, he had plunged yet deeper in debt to Mr. Tregaskis. The total, to be sure, amounted to something undertwenty-five shillings; but to a man with just one penny in his pocketthis left no choice but between recklessness and panic, and theCommandant's spirits swung from one to the other like a pendulum. Panicasserted itself in the small hours, when he awoke in his bed andwondered what would happen when pay-day came, should it bring no paywith it . .. And to a man lying sleepless in the small hours, the worstseems not only possible but likely. Then, as daylight waxed and heawoke again from a short doze, to his surprise he found himselfabsolutely reckless. As well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb! Theordeal lay three days off, and in three days anything might happen; butmeanwhile this was certainly happening--a woman accomplished andbeautiful had stepped into his life and was changing all the colour ofit. He guessed the danger, put purposely averted his thoughts from itand from the certainty of scandal. Archelaus, Treacher, Mrs. Treacher--all three had been sworn to secrecy, and all three could betrusted. These folks read no harm, nothing beyond an amusing mystery, in Vashti's sojourn, and in particular she had made Mrs. Treacher herobedient slave. Yet the secret must come out, and in spite ofArchelaus, who had brought his master's boat round and moored hercunningly under the lee of the rocks overhung by the Keg of ButterBattery. There, while the weather held, the Commandant and his guestcould slip away without fear of prying eyes and sail off among theislands--as they had sailed off yesterday, Vashti sitting low andcovering herself with a spare-sail, until beyond sight of St. Lide'squay and the houses on the slope. To be sure they had to reckon withMr. Rogers' telescope, or rather to leave it out of account. If Mr. Rogers' telescope should prove indiscreet, Mr. Rogers must be let intothe secret, and might be relied on to join the conspiracy. 

The Commandant, however, was in no hurry to share his happiness. Sincehis youth he had made few friends, and in all his life had never knowncomradeship with a woman. Suddenly, and as a well-spring in the desert, Vashti had come into the dull round of his duty--his purposeless, monotonous duty--to refresh it; nor perhaps were the waters less sweetfor the feeling that they were stolen. So he lived in the day, and putoff thinking of the inevitable end. 

One thing only troubled his happiness. He foresaw that the end, when itcame, would mean for him something more serious than parting. He couldnot have told why, but from the moment when Vashti had turned on himand asked, "For what work do they pay you?" he had known thathenceforward his conscience would not sleep until he had made a cleanbreast to the War Office and resigned his commission. It was not thather question told him anything new; only that he saw himself judged inher eyes, and in their light discovered that his conscience had beentolerating what was really intolerable. Her departure, then, would meanthe end of all things; for on the very next day he would send in hispapers and face the world alone--the very next day, and not until then. So much respite he gave himself; and this respite, and not the prospectof parting, cast the only shade upon his happiness. For he felt that heheld her friendship on a false pretence; that if she knew the truth, she would despise him. That is why the Commandant sat in a brown study. 

"They are good children, " repeated Vashti, "but like all other childrenthey know nothing of their elders' troubles. I remember that I was nineor ten before ever it occurred to me that my father could have anytroubles. .. . Now from the top of the hill where those three youngsterssat talking their fairy-tales, I looked over Cromwell's Sound and sawtheir father, Eli Tregarthen, pulling across from Inniscaw. By the verystoop of his shoulders over the paddles I seemed to read that the worldhad gone wrong with the man, and when he beached his boat and walked upthe hill towards Saaron Farm, I felt sure of it. Of course you maylaugh and set it down to fancy, for the man was a good three-quartersof a mile away. "

The Commandant, however, did not laugh. "I think, very likely, you areright, " said he; "and the man had been over to Inniscaw to make a lastappeal to the Lord Proprietor. "

"I wonder, " mused Vashti, "if he is the sort of man to tell his wife?"

The Commandant pondered this and shook his head, meaning that he foundit hard to answer. "I know very little of Tregarthen. In manner, thoughpolite enough, he always struck me as reserved to the last degree. "

"Men of that manner are often the frankest with their wives, " saidVashti; "though again, if you ask me how I know it, I must answer thatI can't tell you. " She sat for a moment, her brows puckered withthought; then, leaning forward, rested her elbows on the table, whilewith eyes fixed seriously upon him she checked off the pros and cons onher fingers. "On the one hand Eli Tregarthen, being a reserved man, andbrought up on Saaron, probably loves the island after a fashion thatRuth understands very dimly if at all. I love my sister----"

The Commandant nodded. 

"--But all the same I know where she is weak as well as where she isstrong. She never had that feeling for the Islands which helps me toguess how her husband feels about Saaron. I can't explain it"--hereVashti opened her palms and lowered them till her arms from the elbowsrested flat upon the table. "Perhaps I can't make you, who were notborn here, understand why it would be grief to me to think of beingburied in any other earth. But I expect that Eli Tregarthen feels it, and feels that, if they uproot him from Saaron, his life will from thatmoment become a different thing, in which he has not learnt--perhapsnever will learn--to take much interest. It's queer that, with justthis difference between us, Ruth should have been the one to staybehind and I the one to go. But fate is queer. .. . Ruth is like hernamesake in the Bible; home for her is the roof covering those sheloves, and would be though she changed the Islands for the other end ofthe world. Therefore, " said Vashti, sagely, "if she feels for herhusband's trouble at all, it would be not as for a trouble thatafflicted them both equally; she would be sorry for him as she would beif he were hurt or diseased. And you know that silent men, likeTregarthen, when they are struck by disease, will sometimes hide itfrom their wives to the last possible moment--will tell no one, butleast of all their wives. "

"Yes, that is true, " the Commandant agreed. 

"On the other hand"--here Vashti resumed her checking--"Ruth has awonderful gift of coaxing people to confide in her even those thingsthey very much doubt her understanding. She used to get me to tell mywoes for the mere consolation of feeling her cheek against mine. Shehad a wonderful knack, too, of obliging me to be open with her, withoutever asking it; and unless those children's faces and talk misled mequite, they were formed in a house where the parents keep no secretsfrom one another. .. . You can always tell. "

This was news to the Commandant; and he admitted that, as an oldbachelor, he had never observed it. 

"Always!" insisted Vashti, nodding. "They spoke of their father quiteas if he were one of themselves; which is not only rare, and not onlyproves that Eli Tregarthen is a good man, but persuades me that, beingin trouble, he has told his wife. "

"You are reasoning beyond my depths, " said the Commandant. "But it allsounds admirably wise, and I grant it. What next?"

"Why, if Eli has told her, she will be in trouble to-day and I must goto her. "

"To Saaron? This morning?"

"To Saaron, certainly; but not this morning, if you are engaged. "

"To tell the truth I had meant to go to church; that is, if you canspare me. "

Simple man that he was, he had meant--having a load to lift presentlyoff his conscience--to receive and be confirmed by the Sacrament. "Yethat do truly and earnestly repent"--the words had been in his ears atthe moment when he took his resolve. Hopeless though the prospect mightbe, he steadfastly intended to lead a new life. 

"My friend, " said Vashti. "I am contrite enough already for the amountof your time I have wasted. We will put off our voyage until theevening. "

He smiled wryly, remembering how she had asked, "For what work do theypay you?"

But Vashti having decided upon an evening expedition, would not listento his offer to sacrifice his church-going; and so to church he went, and confirmed himself, and remained to take the Sacrament on his newresolution. 

Now whether or not he would have remained could he have divined whatwas happening on Garrison Hill I have no wish--as it would beindecent--to inquire. 

But let us go back to Miss Gabriel. 

 * * * * *

Miss Gabriel, all the previous day, had been suffering from a sense ofdefeat, and at the hands of an enemy she had fallen into the habit ofdespising. A woman (or a man, for that matter) of Miss Gabriel's tempersees the world peopled with antagonists, and (perhaps fortunately forher _amour propre_) cannot see that her occasional victor is not onlyquite indifferent to his victory but has very possibly succeeded on themere strength of not caring two pins about it, or even on the merestrength of not knowing that there was any fight going on. Suchinsouciance would have galled Miss Gabriel past endurance had it not, mercifully, lain outside her range of apprehension. As it was, she feltthat the Commandant had taken her easily, at a disadvantage, and routedher--horse, foot, artillery, baggage. 

And at the moment she had collapsed without a struggle. There lay thesting. She had meekly thrown up her hand, though it held oneexceedingly strong trump. That woman in furs and diamonds. .. . Why hadshe not insisted on the existence of her own eyes and held her ground, demanding whence that woman came and what she did on Garrison Hill atsuch an hour?

The longer Miss Gabriel thought of it--and she thought of it all thenext day--the more firmly she refused to believe herself the victim ofan hallucination. She lived frugally; her nerves and digestion werealike in excellent order; in all her life she had never suffered fromfaintness, and but once or twice from a headache. The keenness of hereyesight was notorious, and she had a healthy contempt for anyone whobelieved in ghosts. .. . Moreover, Charlotte Pope, though inclined now tohedge about it, had undoubtedly seen the apparition. 

"I wish, Elizabeth, you could find something else to talk about, "pleaded Mrs. Pope, with a shiver. "You and I know everyone on theIslands and there's no one in the least like--like what we saw; whileas for her jewels, they must have cost hundreds, if they were real. "

"Ha!" exclaimed Miss Gabriel, with a decided sniff. 

"I don't mean 'real' in that sense, Elizabeth; and I put it to you, Where could she have come from?"

Miss Gabriel could not answer this, nor did she try. "Then you _did_see her?" she was content to say. 

"I--I thought I did. "

"And I, Charlotte, am positive you did. Have you told your husbandabout it?"

"Not yet. "

"Don't, then. Between ourselves, my dear Charlotte, an idea hasoccurred to me, and I fancy that if Major Vigoureux thinks he candelude me with his painted hussies he will find himself mistaken!"

More, for the moment, Miss Gabriel would not disclose. But it is to befeared that her design occupied her thoughts in church next morning tothe detriment of her spiritual benefit. The good folk of Garland Townhad--and still have--a pleasant custom of lingering outside the churchporch for a few minutes after service to exchange greetings and alittle mild gossip with their neighbours; and to Mr. And Mrs. Pope, thus lingering, Miss Gabriel attached herself with an air that meantbusiness. 

"Fine morning, " said Miss Gabriel. 

"The weather, " assented Mr. Pope, clearing his throat, "is quiteremarkable for the time of year. As I was observing to Mrs. Fossell, amoment ago, we might be in August month. Whether we attribute it or notto the influence of the Gulf Stream, in the matter of temperature weare wonderfully favoured. "

"Quite so, " said Miss Gabriel; "and I was about to propose our takingadvantage of it for a short stroll on Garrison Hill, to whet ourappetite. " She heard Mrs. Pope gasp and went on hardily, "You and I, Mr. Pope, can remember the time when all the rank and fashion ofGarland Town trooped up regularly after divine service to GarrisonHill. 'Church parade, ' we used to call it. "

"Indeed yes, Miss Gabriel--and with the Garrison band playing beforeus. Those were brave old days; and now I daresay that except for astray pair of lovers no one promenades on Garrison Hill from year's endto year's end. "

"It shocked me, the other night, to discover how completely I hadforgotten it. "

"You had indeed, ha-ha!" laughed Mr. Pope, with a roguish glance at hiswife. 

Miss Gabriel, too, glanced at her, and even more expressively. "Admiremy boldness, " it seemed to say, "and oblige me by imitating it as wellas you can. " Mrs. Pope began to tremble in her shoes. 

"Oh, it was ridiculous! And I have a fancy to go over the ground againand prove to you, and to ourselves, how ridiculous it was. Shall we?"

"With pleasure. " Mr. Pope bowed and offered his arm. In Garland Town, if you walked with two ladies it was _de rigueur_ to offer an arm toeach. 

The stars in their courses seemed to be helping Miss Gabriel's design. Her one anticipated difficulty--for she sought an interview with Mrs. Treacher, to pump her in the presence and hearing of the LordProprietor's agent--had been a possible interruption by the Commandant. To her glee she had noted that the Commandant kept his seat afterservice. For another thirty minutes at least the coast would be clear. 

She had never a doubt of bribing Mrs. Treacher--or, to put it moredelicately, of inducing her to talk. Mrs. Treacher's manner had beenbrusque the night before last; but Miss Gabriel's own manner wasbrusque, whether to friend or to foe, and nice shades of addressescaped her. Mrs. Treacher was certainly poor, and with a poverty towhich a shilling meant a great deal. And Miss Gabriel had a shillingready in her pocket, as well as half-a-crown as a heroic resource incase of unlooked-for obstinacy. But the shilling would almost certainlysuffice. Had not the donative antimacassar already established a claimupon the Treachers' gratitude?

Again, the stars in their courses seemed to be fighting for MissGabriel's design. For as the two ladies climbed the hill on Mr. Pope'sarm, and when they were almost abreast of the barrack door, who shouldappear at the garden gate, on the opposite side of the road, but Mrs. Treacher herself? Catching sight of the visitors she halted in startledfashion, with her hand on the hasp of the gate. 

"So few ever walk this way in these times, " said Miss Gabriel, "Ideclare we have frightened the poor woman. Mrs. Treacher!"--she liftedher voice as she advanced. 

"Ma'am. "

"Mrs. Pope and I have been feeling not a little ashamed of ourselvesthat at the time we did not--er--recognise your--your kindness to usthe other evening. "

"Night, to be accyrate, " said Mrs. Treacher, still interposing herample body between them and the entrance to the garden. "Didn't you?"

"You put yourself to some inconvenience on our account, " pursued MissGabriel; "and--and if you won't mind accepting--" Miss Gabriel held outthe smaller coin by way of finishing the sentence. 

"What's that for?" asked Mrs. Treacher. 

"The circumstances were so unusual, and in a way--ha, ha!--soamusing----"

"Oh!" Mrs. Treacher interrupted. "Unusual, was they? I'm glad to hearit. "

"Why, of course, they were unusual, " Miss Gabriel persisted, albeit atrifle dashed; "and indeed so incredibly absurd that we have broughtMr. Pope to hear your account of them; for, I assure you, he'll hardlybelieve us. "

Mrs. Treacher looked at Mr. Pope solemnly for the space of about tenseconds, and then as solemnly at the ladies. 

"_What_ won't he believe?"

"Why"--Miss Gabriel plucked up her courage--"there was so much thatafterwards, when we came to compare notes, neither of us couldexplain--as, for instance, who was the strange lady that walked intothe room and was evidently surprised to see us, as we were naturallysurprised to see her-----"

Mrs. Treacher turned slowly again to Mr. Pope, whose face (since thiswas the first he had heard of any strange lady) expressed no smallastonishment. 

"Poor man!" she murmured, sympathetically, "did they really go so faras all that?"

"I assure you--" began Mrs. Pope stammering. 

"Oh, go your ways and take 'em home!" cut in Mrs. Treacher. "I'm afriend to my sex in most matters; but to come askin' me to back up sucha tale as that, and for a shillin'!" She turned her palm over and letthe coin drop on the soil at her feet. 

But here unhappily, at the height of Mrs. Treacher's indignation, asneeze sounded from a bush across the patch of garden; and the eyes ofher visitors, attracted by the sound, rested on an object which Mrs. Treacher, by interposition of her shoulders, had been doing her best tohide--a scarecrow standing unashamed in the midst of the garrisonpotato patch--a scarecrow in a flaunting waistcoat of scarlet, green, and yellow!

"My antimacassar!" gasped Miss Gabriel. 

"The Lord Pro--" Mr. Pope checked the exclamation midway. "You willexcuse me, ma'am. I was referring to the lower part of the figure. "

"Was ever such ingratitude?"

"It is worse, ma'am--ten times worse. You may call it sacrilege. "

CHAPTER XV

BREFAR CHURCH

"It was all my fault, " confessed Vashti. 

"I was thinking so, " said the Commandant, drily. "It had not occurredto me that Archelaus and the Treachers were acting on their owninitiative. "

Vashti laughed, and her laugh rippled over the waves to meet the sunsetgold. They had taken boat beneath the Keg of Butter Battery, and weresailing for Saaron with a light breeze on their quarter. Evening andSabbath calm held the sky from its pale yellow verges up to the zenithacross which a few stray gulls were homing. From Garland Town, from St. Ann's, from Brefar ahead of them, came wafted the sound of bells, farand faint, ringing to church, and the murmuring water in the boat'swake seemed to take up Vashti's laugh and echo it reproachfully, as shechecked herself with a glance at her companion's face, which also wasreproachful and sternly set, but with a slight twitch at the corners ofthe mouth to betray it. 

"Forgive me!" she pleaded, but her voice, too, betrayed her. 

"You are not penitent in the least. "

"As you are only pretending to be angry. Remember that I belong to the'profession, ' and no amateur acting can impose on me. "

"You will admit that you have behaved abominably. " The Commandantconceded a smile. 

"Oh, abominably!"

"And perhaps you will be good enough to indicate how I am to restore mycredit with--with those people. When I met them coming down the hilland pulled up to salute, Miss Gabriel froze me with a stare, Mrs. Popelooked the other way, and her husband could only muster up a furtivesort of grin. 'Excuse me, ' it seemed to say; 'things may rightthemselves by and by, but for the present I cannot know you. ' The threebetween them knocked me all of a heap. Of course I could not guess whathad happened, but I made sure they had seen you. "

"It was the closest miss that they did not. When they hove in sight Iwas actually standing in front of our masterpiece, with my back to theroad; calling orders to Archelaus and Treacher, who were at workstuffing _them_ (so to speak) with straw. I fancy they have forgotten, on Garrison Hill, to guard against surprises. At any rate, we shouldhave been taken in a highly unsoldier-like fashion if Mrs. Treacherhadn't kept her eye lifting. She gave the alarm, and we scuttled intothe bushes like rabbits, and watched while she held the gate. What ismore, I believe she would have fended off the danger if SergeantArchelaus hadn't sneezed; and then--oh, then!--" Vashti paused, hereyes brimful of laughter. 

"He broke cover?"

"I snatched at the tail of his tunic--hastily, I will admit--but untilhe had stepped past me I had no idea he meant to be so foolish. It cameaway in my hand. They heard the noise it made in ripping. "

"But they did not see you?"

"No; for seeing that the mischief was done Sergeant Treacher steppedout too. You should have heard them explaining to Miss Gabriel! Butthey were quite brave and determined. They told me afterwards thatrather than allow one of the visitors to enter and catch sight of methey would have picked up all three and carried them outside thegarrison gate. "

"The Lord Proprietor will certainly hear of this, " said the Commandant, musing. 

Vashti, who had bent to pin the sheet closer, lifted her head andregarded him with a puzzled frown; then, averting her eyes, let themtravel under the foot of the sail towards the sunset. 

"Decidedly the Lord Proprietor will hear of it, " she said, after aninterval during which he almost forgot that he had spoken. "Indeed, ifit will help to get you, or Archelaus, or anyone out of a scrape, Ipropose to call on him to-morrow and confess all. Do you think he willbe lenient?"

There was a shade of contempt in the question, and it called a flush tothe Commandant's cheek. He was about to answer, but checked himself andsat silent, looking down at the foam that ran by the boat's gunwale. 

"He must be worth visiting, too; that is, if one may reconstruct himfrom--from them. "

The Commandant smiled. "My dear lady, you have already made one attemptto reconstruct him from them. "

Vashti pondered awhile, her chin resting on her hand and her eyes yetfixed upon the sunset. 

"I give you fair warning that I am here on a holiday, " she murmured. 

"I don't know what you consider a fair warning; but I had guessed somuch. "

"The first for fifteen years, " she pursued; "and I won't promise that Ishall not behave worse--considerably worse. Are you very angry withme?"

"My dear, " answered the Commandant ("My dear, " it should be explained, is the commonest form of address in the Islands, and one that even aprisoner will use to the magistrate trying him), "if you really wish toknow, I am enjoying myself recklessly; and it would be idle to call mygarrison to put you under restraint, since you have already subornedthem. I started, you see, with the imprudence of showing you mydefences, and now you have us all at your mercy. "

"You have been more than good to me, " said Vashti, after a pause; "butthe fortress is already vacated. " She nodded towards a valise whichrested under the thwart by the foot of the mast. "Mrs. Treacher packedit for me, " she explained, "and her husband carried it down to theboat. If Ruth needs me--as she almost certainly does--and if herhusband will tolerate me, I shall sleep on Saaron to-night. "

"But you will come back?" he asked, dismayed. 

"Certainly not, unless the Lord Proprietor drives me to seek refuge. "

The Commandant did not answer. He had known that this happy time mustbe short; he had known it from the first, and that the end would comeunexpectedly. 

The wind had fallen slightly, and the boat crept up to the entrance ofCromwell's Sound with sail that alternately tautened its sheet and letit fall slack. The single bell of Brefar Church yet rung to service;but the sun had sunk beneath the horizon, and the sea-lights wereflashing around the horizon before Saaron loomed close on the porthand; and as they crept towards the East Porth under the loom of theIsland, a row-boat shot out from the beach there, and headed up theSound towards Brefar. 

"Hush!" commanded Vashti, and peered forward. 

But a boat putting out from Saaron at this hour could only belong toSaaron's only inhabitants, and could be bound but on one errand. AndRuth was in her, for, presently, as the children's voices travelledback across the still water, Vashti heard Matthew Henry's pitched to ashrill interrogative and calling his mother by name. 

"They are rowing to church, the whole family, " said Vashti. "We canfollow as slowly as we choose. "

She listened a moment, but the oars in the boat ahead continued theirregular plash. It may be that Tregarthen had failed to discern thesmall sail astern of him in the gloom of the land. She lowered itquietly, stowed it, found and inserted the thole-pins, and shipped thepaddles. Yet it seemed that she was in no hurry to row. She but dippeda blade twice to check the boat from swinging broadside-on to the tide, and so rested silent for minute after minute, gazing through the gloomtowards the bright sea-lights. 

And it seemed to the Commandant, seated and watching her, that he couldread some of the thoughts behind her gaze. His own went back again tothe night of his first coming to the Islands, when, as at sunset hesupposed himself to have discovered them, all of a sudden theydiscovered him--reef after reef opening a great shining eye upon him;and some of the eyes were steady, but most of them intermittent, andall sent long gleaming rays along the floor of the sea; a dozensea-lights and eleven of them yellow, but the twelfth (that upon NorthIsland) a deep glowing crimson. Since then and for fifteen years theyhad been his friends. Nightly he watched them for minutes from hiswindow before undressing for bed; and in fanciful moments they seemedto draw a circle of witchcraft around the Islands. 

If they meant so much to him what must they mean to her who had lefthome, dear ones, and all memories of youth?--and who, returned fromexile, stood with her hand upon the latch of the old cupboard!

"Ruth will have changed, " said Vashti, speaking aloud, but to herself. "It is impossible that she has not changed. "

She dipped her paddles and began to pull, gently at first and almostlanguidly; but by and by strength came into her arms and the boat beganto move at a pace that astonished the Commandant. 

 * * * * *

Brefar Church stands on a green knoll close by the water's edge andonly a few yards above a shingly beach where the Islanders bring theirboats to shore. Its bell had ceased ringing long before its windowscame into view with the warm lamp light shining within; and the beachlay dark under the shadow of the tamarisks topping the graveyard wall. Vashti, not in the least distressed by her exertions, sprang ashore andsought about for a good mooring-stone. She had found one almost beforethe Commandant, following, could offer to help her in her search. Together they hauled the boat a few yards up from the water. 

"Are we to go inside?" the Commandant asked, looking up at the lightedbuilding. 

Before Vashti could answer a reedy harmonium sounded within and thecongregation broke into the "Old Hundredth" hymn--

 "All people that on earth do dwell, Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice----"

The incongruity of it, sung by a handful of fisherfolk here on an isletof the Atlantic--the real congruity (if indeed the Church be, as theBidding Prayer defines it, "the whole body of Christian peopledispersed throughout the world")--was probably less perceptible to theCommandant after fifteen years' sojourn on the Islands than to Vashti, newly returned from great continents and crowded cities. But if shesmiled the darkness did not betray her. The Commandant saw her lift ahand beckoning him to follow, and followed her up the knoll to awhitewashed gate glimmering between the dark masses of the tamarisks. 

She opened it and disappeared into the churchyard. He followed, stumbling along the narrow path, and overtook her at the angle of thesouth porch. She was in the act of mounting upon a flat tombstone whichlay close in the wall's shadow. A panel of light streamed from thewindow directly above, and fell on Vashti's face as she drew herselferect upon the slab and leaned forward, her fingers resting on thegranite mullions; but a light not derived from this shone in her eyes amoment later. With a little sob of joy she pressed her forehead closeagainst the leaded panes. 

The Commandant heard the sound, and guessed the cause of it. The lightin her eyes he could not see. He stood among the dark nettles, lookingup at her, waiting for the hymn to conclude. 

The "Amen" came at last. He heard the shuffling of feet as thecongregation knelt to pray . .. And, with that, Vashti turned and bentto whisper to him. 

"She is there--almost abreast of us, standing by the pillar. She iskneeling now--my own Ruth--and her face is hidden. "

He supposed that she bent to step down from the slab, and he put up ahand to help her. A tear fell on the back of his fingers, as it were asingle raindrop out of the night. .. . But she turned impulsively, andpressed her face again to the glass. 

"She is praying. She will not look up again. .. . She would not turn hereyes just now, though her own sister stood so close! They were liftedto the lights in the chancel and to the dark window. " Then, as itseemed, with sudden inconsequence, she added: "Forgive me, sir! Youhave been kind to me, and it is so many years--so many years----"

"My dear, " said the Commandant, gravely, as he handed her down, "youhonour me more than I can tell. All my life I shall remember that youhave so honoured me. "

But it did not appear that she heard him. Letting go his hand, sheseated herself on the edge of the tombstone, and looked up at him witheyes that, barely touched by the light from the window, seemed to himstrangely, almost pitifully childish--eyes of a child that had lost itsmother young. 

"Her face was not changed, or a very little; far less than I feared. She is beautiful, my own Ruth--beautiful as she is good. "

"And happy?" he found himself asking. 

"Happy and unhappy. Happy in her good man, in her children?--oh, yes. But unhappy, just now, because they are unhappy and in trouble. Therewas a gloom upon Eli Tregarthen's face, a look of pain----"

"Of anger, too, and of wonder mixed with it, I daresay. He has been hitby a blow he does not understand. "

"But we will help them. "

The Commandant stared into the darkness. There was gloom, too, on hisface, had there been light enough to reveal it. 

"The Lord Proprietor is a very obstinate man. "

"Yes, yes; but I mean that we will help them to-night. I cannot bear tothink of Ruth carrying her trouble home and lying awake with it. "

"Perhaps she will not. " The Commandant remembered how he himself hadcarried a burden to church that morning and left it there. 

"Ah!" exclaimed Vashti, swiftly, guessing his thought, though not theoccasion of it. "That may do for you and me. For my part, I am not areligious woman--I mean, not religious as I ought to be. Yet Iunderstand. Often and often when worried or out of temper I go tochurch and sit there alone until peace of mind comes back to me. But Ihave no husband, and you no wife; whereas with Ruth all her soul'scomfort is bound up in those she loves. While Eli Tregarthen wears thatlook on his face, she can never go home happy. "

"But have we power to lift it?"

"We will try, and to-night. "

She stood up, cast one look behind her at the lighted window, and ledthe way back along the path, through the gate, and down the knoll tothe beach. While she cast off the rope from its mooring-stone he easedthe boat off and launched her. 

"Shall I take the paddles?" he asked. 

No; Vashti would pull back as she had come; and as she pulled shetalked of Ruth, out of her full heart. He listened, between joy andpain--joy to be sitting here, honoured with her confidences, though hehad none but a listener's share in them--here, in the still, scentedevening, caressed by her marvellous voice; and pain, not because hertalk charged life full of new meanings, every one of which he felt tobe vitally true and as certainly missed by his own starved experience, but because it took him for granted as a kindly stranger, an outsideradmitted to these mysteries, and warned him that his time on this holyground was short; nay, that it was drawing swiftly to a close. And howcould he go back to the old monotony, the old routine?

He remembered that, to whatever he went back, it would not be tothese--at any rate, not for long. The future might hold degradation, poverty of the sharpest, hard work for a pittance of daily bread; butat least his dismissal would send him back to a life in which laysomewhere these meanings that trembled like visions of light in theheart of Vashti's talk. They gave him glimpses of the heaven which, bytheir remembered rays, he must seek for himself. How many years had hewasted--how many years!

They moored the boat close under the cliff's shadow, and, climbing therocks, between the cove and the East Porth, sat down to wait. Vashtisat in reverie, plucking and smelling at small tufts of the thyme;then, rousing herself with a happy laugh, she challenged the Commandantto name her all the islets, rock by rock, lying out yonder in thedarkness. He tried, and she corrected omission after omission, mockinghim. What did he care? It was enough to be seated here, close with herin the starry, odorous night. 

Presently she tired of the contest, and clasping her knees began, without warning given, to croon a little song--

 "Over the rim of the moor, And under a starry sky, Two men came to my door And rested them wearily. 

 Beneath the bough and the star In a whispering foreign tongue, They talked of a land afar, And the merry days so young. "

She sang it as though to herself, or as though answering the murmur ofthe tide on the rocks at their feet; but at the third verse her voicelifted:

 "Beneath the dawn and the bough I heard them arise and go-- But my heart, it is aching--aching now, For the more it will never know. "

The song died away in a low wistful minor, as though it breathed itslast upon a question. "The merry days--the merry days, so young, " sheechoed, after a pause, and lifted her head suddenly. 

"Hark!"

The sound--it was the plash of oar--grew upon the darkness. A lightshot out beyond the last point of Brefar, and its ray fell waving onthe black water. It came from a lantern in the bows of the Tregarthen'sboat, and as it drew nearer the two listeners could distinguish thechildren's voices. 

They shrank back there in the shadow above the ledge, as the boat tookground and Eli Tregarthen, stepping ashore in his sea-boots, set thelantern on the stones of the beach, lifted out the children, and lent ahand to Ruth. The little ones scampered up the path; but Ruth waited byher husband while he heaved the boat high and dry with his easy, careless strength, and saw to her moorings. When all was done, and ashe stooped to pick up the lantern, she came to him, and put a hand onhis arm. So, and without speech, they went up the path together. 

The rays of the lantern danced on the furze-bushes to right and left ofthe path. .. . Vashti leapt to her feet; her hands went up to her lipsand hollowed themselves to a low call. 

"Lul--lul--loo--ee!"

From the brake above came a little cry, a little gasping cry; andgruffly upon it Eli Tregarthen's voice challenged--

"Who goes there?"

"Caa-ra! caa-ra!. .. Oh, Ruth--my sister!"

The Commandant saw Tregarthen's lantern lifted above the gorse, and bythe light of it Ruth came down to the narrow pathway--came with theface of a ghost, as Vashti sprang up the slope towards her. 

"Vassy! Not Vassy!-----"

But Vashti's arms were about her for proof. The Commandant, standingbelow in the shadow of the brake, heard the younger sister's sobs. 

"Vassy! And to-night!"

"To-night, and for many nights-----"

"Thank God! Thank God!"

The Commandant, by the light of the lantern which Eli Tregarthen heldstupidly, saw them go up the path, their arms holding each other'swaist. They disappeared, but their questions and eager, broken answers, as they climbed towards Saaron, came down to him where he stood alone, forgotten. 

He stood there for half an hour almost. Then, as he felt the chill ofthe night he recalled himself to action with a shiver, and shoulderedVashti's valise. Slowly he climbed the hill with it, to Saaron Farm, and rapped on the door. 

Tregarthen opened to him, staring. 

"I have brought your sister-in-law's luggage. "

"Is it the Governor?. .. But won't you step inside, sir?"

"I thank you; no. It is late, " answered the Commandant, curtly, andturned on his heel. 

As he went by the window he saw--he could not help seeing--Ruth in herchair, with Vashti on the hearth beside her, clasping her knees. Thechildren looked on in a wondering semi-circle. 

He stumbled down the hill, and as he went he heard the door softlyclose behind him. 

CHAPTER XVI

THE LORD PROPRIETOR'S AUDIENCE

Sir Cęsar Hutchins, Lord Proprietor, paced the terrace of his greathouse at Inniscaw, and paused ever and anon to survey the prospect witha lordly proprietary eye. He had breakfasted, and at breakfast (to usehis own words) he always did himself justice. Indeed, throughout astrenuous business career he had never failed to take very good care ofhimself, and was now able to enjoy a clear conscience with an easydigestion. 

The reader may ask with some surprise how such a man, accustomed allhis life to the bustle and traffic of Finsbury Pavement, E. C. , couldchoose, in his middle age, to turn his back on these and purchase anexile out in the Atlantic, where no one bought or sold shares, andwhere only Mr. Fossell, perhaps--and he from a week-oldnewspaper--caught an echo of the world's markets, whether they rose orfell. But, in truth, Sir Cęsar had chosen carefully, deliberately. Hehad always intended to enjoy in later life the wealth for which he hadworked hard in his prime; and as soon as his fortune was assured, hehad made several cautious but determined experiments to discover whereenjoyment might abide. He had, for instance, rented a grouse-moor, andinvited a large company to help him, by shooting the birds, to feelthat he was getting a return for his money. But somehow his guests, though very good fellows in London, did not harmonize (to his mind)with the highland wastes. He was glad when they departed; the sceneryimproved at once--at any rate, he took more pleasure in it. He tried adeer forest and found this tolerable, but he soon made the furtherdiscovery that shooting bored him, that is to say, all shooting ofhigher rank that the potting of rabbits. He was one of those enviablepersons who "know what they like. " If he made trial of these expensiverecreations, it was simply because he saw men ambitious for them, andsupposed they would certainly yield some gratification to explain it;but, having made trial for himself and missed the gratification, heabandoned them without a sigh. Hence his wardrobe had come to include apair of deer-stalking breeches, very little the worse for wear. (He hadnever anticipated any satisfaction in wearing a kilt). 

At another time he had owned a steam yacht; and this had taught himthat he liked the sea and suffered no inconvenience from its motion. But from the yacht itself he derived small satisfaction after he hadshown it to his friends, and been envied by poorer men for possessingsuch a toy. It might have been amusing to carry these admirers aboutwith him in extended cruises; but they, being poor, were busy and couldnot afford the time, while his rich acquaintances owned steam yachts oftheir own. Moreover, though unaccustomed to sport, he had always takena fair amount of exercise; his liver required it; and at yachting--thatis to say, sitting on deck in a comfortable chair--he put on flesh atan alarming rate. Therefore, from this pastime also he retired. 

Though these experiments were in themselves uniformly unsuccessful, hehad not made them in vain; but, keeping his wits about him, had arrivedby a process of exhaustion at some of the essentials of pleasure; andthis, after all, was not so bad for a man who had started with noknowledge concerning it and with a deal of false information. He knewnow that he required exercise, that he could be happy in solitude, andthat his landscape would be all the better if it neighboured on thesea. (Of his immunity from sea-sickness he was honestly prouder than ofanything his money had been able, as yet, to purchase. ) He had scarcelymade these discoveries when the lease of the Islands came into themarket. 

Then, as he read the advertisement in the _Times_ newspaper, in a flashhe had divined his opportunity, had seen a happy future unrolled beforehim. His error hitherto had lain, not in exchanging Finsbury Pavementfor scenes where the free elements had play, but in seeking to changehimself and do violence to his own habits of mind and body. In theIslands he could practice, as a benevolent despot, that mastery of menwhich had given him power in the city; he could devote uncontradictedto the cause of philanthropy--or with only so much contradiction aslent a spice to triumph--those faculties which he had been sharpeningall his life in quest of money. They remained sharp as ever, though theold appetite had been dulled. 

He was a widower. He had no ambition but his own to consult; he alonewould suffer if he made a mistake--and he felt sure he was not making amistake. Though not given to day-dreams (Finsbury Pavement discouragedhim), he had an ounce of imagination distributed about his brain (few, even among money-making men, succeed with less), and it had once ortwice occurred to him that a king's must be, in spite of drawbacks, ahighly enviable lot--at any rate in countries west of Russia. Well, here was his chance. 

He took it boldly; and to-day, had you asked him, he would haveacknowledged with a smile that he did not repent. All kings, to besure, have their worries. The army had not shown itself too wellaffected towards the new reign. But when an army consists of threesoldiers. .. . 

The Lord Proprietor, gazing down from his terrace upon the twinklingwaters of the roadstead, caught sight of a row-boat coming across fromSt. Lide's, and as it drew near, recognised its sole occupant forSergeant Archelaus. 

He felt for his cigar case, chose and lit a cigar, and rested hiselbows on the balustrade of the terrace, watching, while the old manbrought his boat to the landing-quay, landed leisurely, and crossed themeadow to the foot of the gardens, where, at the pace he was keeping, one might allow him a couple of minutes at least before he re-emergedinto view at the foot of the steps leading up to the terrace. But, asit happened, a bare fifty seconds elapsed before he came darting out ofthe boscage and scrambled up the stairway in a sweating hurry, twosteps at a time. 

"You shouldn't, Sergeant; you really shouldn't--at your time of life, "expostulated the Lord Proprietor, kindly, withdrawing the cigar fromhis mouth. 

"Then you shouldn't keep ostriches, " retorted Sergeant Archelaus, as hegained the topmost step and, after a fearful glance behind him, sankagainst a pilaster and mopped his brow. 

"Take care of that urn!" cried the Lord Proprietor, in a warning voice. "It contains a _Phormium tenax_ that I wouldn't lose on any account. "

"A what?"

"A New Zealand Flax. .. . The ostriches chased you, did they?"

"They did--the pair of 'em. It goes against a man's stomach, too, beingchased by a bird. "

"To me, " said the Lord Proprietor, "it is gratifying evidence that theyare recovering their spirits, which were hipped after the long voyagefrom Cape Town. But here, in the Gulf Stream, my theory is that we canacclimatise almost anything, animal or vegetable. Already they begin tofeel its invigorating influence. "

"Talking of vegetables, sir"--Archelaus shifted a canvas bag from hisshoulders to the ground and began to untie the string which bound itsneck. 

"Pray take breath, " suggested the Lord Proprietor. "At your age--andwith the little exercise you get on Garrison Hill----"

"We don't keep ostriches, " said Archelaus, curtly. "But, talking ofvegetables, the Governor sends his compliments to you, sir, and begsyour acceptance of a few choice plants in return for the small clothesyou lent me. "

"'Lent' you, Archelaus? 'Gave, ' you mean. "

"Oh, sir, but--excuse me--I couldn't--there was them ostriches to beconsidered. "

"It has occurred to me, " went on the Lord Proprietor, who was in thebest of moods this morning, "that those--er--breeches might be a trifleconspicuous--a shade too highly pronounced in pattern--to be worn withuniform. "

"As for that, sir, " answered Archelaus, tactfully, "life on the Islandsisn't like active service, where a man has to be careful about exposinghimself to marksmanship. "

"In Inverness a pattern like that would excite no comment. "

"I've never been there, " said Archelaus. 

"It--er--harmonises, as it were, with the natural surroundings: withthe loch, the glen, the strath. So with those curious tartans to whichthe Scottish highlanders are--er--addicted. Seen by themselves, and toa sensitive, artistic eye, they appear crude and almost violent intheir contrast of colours; but seen in conjunction with the expanse ofnative moorland, the undulating stretches of the heather----"

"'Tis but niggling scenery we have in these parts, to be sure, " agreedArchelaus. 

"I have sometimes thought that _mutatis mutandis_ the same may be trueof the bagpipes, the strains of which--'skirl, ' I believe, is theproper expression--are not altogether discordant with the moaning ofthe wind over those desolate moors or the cries uttered by their wilderdenizens; though, speaking personally, I never could endure theinstrument. "

"Me either, " agreed Archelaus again, shuffling a little on his feet, asthe dreadful truth began to dawn on him, that the Lord Proprietor meantto present him with yet another pair of trousers. 

Sir Cęsar, however, chose to play for a minute with his benevolentdesign. 

"There is no more delicate study, " he went on, "than that ofacclimatisation. None which requires a nicer union of artistic daringwith artistic judgment, patience, with decision. .. . I propose to go infor it pretty extensively on Inniscaw. "

"Yes, sir?"

"The ostriches have been a great encouragement. "

"I suppose, now, when you get accustomed to 'em----"

"Though I have yet to prove that they will breed here. Yet, why not?The Gulf Stream, I am assured, has a stimulating influence upon allforms of organic life, animal as well as vegetable. It may be comparedwith that inward volcanic heat which, in and around the Bay of Naples, clothes the shore with verdure, and is not without responsibility forthe passions of the inhabitants. .. . But, as I was saying, a man mustuse judgment. A plant may thrive when transferred across a thousandmiles of ocean, may propagate itself even more freely than in itsnative habitat, and yet, to the artistic eye, be never truly at home. Its colour, of flower or foliage, refuses to blend with our landscape, to adapt itself to our Atlantic skies. It is my hobby, Sergeant, todiscover not only what imported plants will flourish with our soil andclimate, but what particular one is worthiest of cultivation; and, having discovered that, I propose to bend all my best energies uponit. .. . Eh? But where did you get those remarkably fine bulbs?"

Archelaus held out three in the palm of his hand. 

"From the garrison garden, sir; with the Governor's compliments, andunderstanding you to take an interest in bulbs. "

"Daffodils? Some species of narcissus, at any rate. "

The Lord Proprietor took one of the bulbs and examined it, turning itover. "I had no idea that Major Vigoureux--er--went in for this sort ofthing, or I'd have done myself the pleasure of visiting his garden. "

"You wouldn't find much in it, sir, " said Archelaus, hastily, remembering yesterday's adventure. "At least not much to interest you. To tell the truth, the Governor sets very little store by these, thoughthey look pretty enough in March month. But wanting to show hisfeelings in the matter of those trousers----"

"You shall have another pair!"

"Oh!" said Archelaus, in spite of himself, and though he had miserablyforeseen the offer for ten minutes past. 

"And you may take back my thanks to the Commandant, and tell him that Ihope, within the next few days, to pay him a call. "

Archelaus touched his forelock, bringing up his palm at the rightmilitary salute--in those days a complicated operation. To himself hebreathed a thanksgiving that the Fair Lady (as he and the Treacherscalled Vashti) had taken her departure from Garrison Hill overnight. Ever since breakfast he had been feeling sadly dejected about it and so(if appearances might be trusted) had his master. There is a fearfuljoy, after all, in living on a volcano. 

But, alas, for Sergeant Archelaus! He was at this moment standing onthe crust of a volcano, and that crust was momentarily wearing thinner. 

The shore beneath the great house of Inniscaw has two landing quays, ofwhich the eastern (Archelaus had used the western) lies hidden fromview of the terrace, and can be approached by a boat keeping closeunder St. Lide's shore. Engrossed in his lecture upon acclimatisation, the Lord Proprietor had missed to perceive a boat making for thiseastern quay; and so had Archelaus, for the simpler reason that hestood with his back to the view. 

"Step into the house with me, and you shall make your choice betweenhalf-a-dozen pairs, " the Lord Proprietor invited him. 

"If you are sure it's not troubling you, " said Archelaus. 

"My good man--" began the Lord Proprietor, leading the way; and withthat he turned about, surprised that Archelaus was not following. "Eh?What's the matter?"

But Archelaus, speechless, was staring along the terrace to its easternend, where, at the head of a flight of steps leading down among theshrubberies, a head had suddenly uprisen into view--a head in a graybonnet with trimmings of subdued violet--the head of Miss Gabriel. 

"H'm!" said Miss Gabriel, and turned to Mr. And Mrs. Pope, who weremounting the stairway at her heels. 

CHAPTER XVII

THE LORD PROPRIETOR RECEIVES A DOUBLE SHOCK

"H'm!" said Miss Gabriel again, as she once more surveyed the shrinkingArchelaus. "So you allowed you'd steal a march on me?"

"I had no such thought, ma'am, " stammered Archelaus. 

"You'll get no good out of it, anyway; and of that I warn you. Goodmorning, sir!"--this with a curtsey to the Lord Proprietor. 

"Good morning, ma'am! How d'ye do, Pope?--and your good lady is well, Ihope? But to what do I owe this unexpected--er--honour?"

"Him, " said Miss Gabriel, nodding, and with scarcely a change of tone. 

"To Sergeant Archelaus, ma'am? Why, what has he been doing?"

"You might better ask--" Miss Gabriel answered slowly, emphatically, with her eye on the culprit--"what he has not. "

"Whichever you please, ma'am. Come!"

"I find a difficulty in putting a name to it, " pursued Miss Gabriel, still in the same level tone. "But Mr. Pope will bear me out. If hedoesn't, I shall still allow no false delicacy to stand between me andmy duty. "

"Miss Gabriel means, sir, " explained Mr. Pope, "that the articles inquestion----"

"What articles, man?" asked the Lord Proprietor, as Mr. Pope, in histurn, hesitated. 

"Trousers, " said Miss Gabriel, setting her face. "No, Charlotte"--sheturned upon Mrs. Pope--"this is no time for mincing language. They wereon a scarecrow, sir, in the very middle of the garrison garden, alongwith my waistcoat----"

"Your waistcoat, ma'am!"

"That is to say, with my antimacassar, which I had converted into awaistcoat and presented, in the innocence of my heart, to Treacher; theclothing of these men being nothing short of a scandal. But forscandal, sir, their clothes won't compare with their doings. Not tomention----"

"My dear lady, I implore you, let us take one thing at a time! You wishto make some statement about a scarecrow--in the garrisongarden--adorned (am I right?) with a waistcoat you were once kindenough to present to Sergeant Treacher, and (I gather) with a pair oftrousers about which you are less explicit. " The Lord Proprietorpaused. His eyes grew round with sudden, terrible suspicion. "You don'tmean to tell me--" he asked slowly. 

Miss Gabriel nodded, and wagged an accusing forefinger at Archelaus. 

"That's just what I _do_ mean. And if you want a picture of guilt, lookat that man!"

The Lord Proprietor turned and stared at him, gasping. 

"My trousers? _Mine?_" But here speech failed him, and he stood openingand shutting his mouth like a newly-landed fish. 

Archelaus flung a wild glance about him, vainly seeking escape. 

"You're looking at it in the wrong light, all of you, " he mumbled, feebly. 

"And on the Sabbath, too!" put in Mrs. Pope. 

"This man"--the Lord Proprietor held up a hand as though calling Heavento witness--"On what pretence do you suppose that he came here thismorning? Why, to thank me! To thank me for those very--er--articles ofwhich you tell me he makes a public mock! Look at the bag in hishand--what do you suppose that it contains?"

"Adders, " suggested Mrs. Pope. "I shouldn't be surprised. "

"You may well say so, ma'am. It might well be adders. Indeed, I'm notsure it isn't worse. "

"Oh!" Mrs. Pope, already backing before the horrors of her ownimagination, caught at the balustrade for support. 

"Daffodils, ma'am! A present of daffodil bulbs, with the Commandant'scompliments, and in acknowledgment of my gift! Could hypocrisy gofarther?"

"Major Vigoureux, " said Miss Gabriel, "was never a friend of mine. Letthose who thought better of him defend him now, when he shows himselfin his true colours. "

But here Archelaus pulled himself together. 

"The Governor, " he answered sullenly, "had nothing to do with it. TheGovernor was in church at the time, as is well known to all of you. "

"Yes, yes, " interposed Mrs. Pope. "Let us be just. The Commandant wascertainly in church at the time. On our homeward way we met himreturning from church; and I would add, sir--if you will forgiveme--that he is a gentleman quite incapable of suggesting or connivingat so vulgar a trick. "

"H'm!" The Lord Proprietor accepted this with a snort, for he could nothelp being aware of its truth. But his wrath still needed a vent, andhe turned upon Archelaus again. 

"The Governor?" he echoed. "Are you ignorant that Major Vigoureux isnot Governor of these Islands, nor has he been for three years?--evenif he had ever a right to the title. "

"He's _my_ Governor, anyway, " answered Archelaus, turning more and moredogged; "and he's Treacher's; and I reckon you'll find, if you try anygames, that he's Treacher's missus' Governor, too. "

"Insolent!"--This from Miss Gabriel. 

"I ain't denyin' it, ma'am. Insolent I be, and a little freedom o'speech about it is no more than your rights. Insolent I've behaved, andif you'll take and ask the Governor to punish me for it, 'tisn't morethan I deserve. He'll do it, be sure. As Mister Pope told you just now, the Governor's a gentleman; he wouldn't play such a trick, not if youwas to offer him the world and the kingdoms thereof; and he'll be teasyas fire when he hears about it. But I warn you, ladies and gentlemen, all, don't you take the law into your own hands over this distressin'case, but go to him meek-like an' say you want Arch'laus punished. That's all. Leastways, that's all, unless you ask my honest opinion onthe breeches in question, which is, that I wouldn't put 'em astride aclothes-horse and call him a son o' mine. "

The Lord Proprietor stepped back, purple in the face. 

But Miss Gabriel flew at game higher than Archelaus. 

"That is all very well, " she interposed, in her coldest, most incisivetone. "But to whom does the credit of this insult belong if not toMajor Vigoureux? You may talk till doomsday, my man, before I'llbelieve that you and Treacher thought of it. " She stood for a second ortwo, eyeing him. "A-ah!" she said, a little above her breath. "Ithought as much!. .. There _was_ a woman, Charlotte, and that woman isat the bottom of the whole business. I ask you, if you doubt it, tolook at his face. "

"She'd nothin' to do with it, " affirmed Archelaus, stolidly, drawingthe back of his hand across his brow. 

"She?" mocked Miss Gabriel. "And pray who is 'she'?"

Archelaus made a bold effort to recover himself. "Why, Treacher'smissus . .. Unless you mean the Ghost. "

"That Treacher's missus (as you call her) bore her hand in the sport Ihave the evidence of my own eyes; and if by 'the Ghost' you allude to apainted hussy that Mrs. Pope and I surprised, the other night, in yourmaster's quarters, I advise you to keep that for the Marines. Sir, "--Miss Gabriel turned to the Lord Proprietor--"this petty insultof the scarecrow is the smallest part of our complaint against MajorVigoureux. We have reason to believe--we have ocular proof--that theMajor is at this moment and by stealth entertaining a most undesirableguest at the Barracks. "

"My dear Elizabeth, we cannot be altogether sure!" objected Mrs. Pope. 

"Speak for yourself, Charlotte. " Miss Gabriel folded her hands and benton Archelaus a gaze under which he felt himself withering. "I am quitesure. "

"Undesirable, ma'am?" asked the Lord Proprietor, thoroughly mystified. "In what sense undesirable?"

"--Unless, " answered Miss Gabriel, tapping her foot, and with the airof one who curbs a virtuous impatience, "unless you can suggest a termmore appropriate to a Jezebel; in which case I shall stand corrected. "

"Jezebel? Jezebel? But, my dear Miss Gabriel, consider before you bringsuch a charge: here especially in the presence of Major Vigoureux'sservant, who will doubtless report it to his master. Reflect howserious it is. Reflect----"

"Why, bless the man!" Miss Gabriel cut him short disdainfully. "As if Ihadn't been reflecting for three days on end! Let him sue me forslander if he dare. I'll stick to my guns, if I kiss the book upon it;and what's more, so will Charlotte Pope. "

"I never said so, Elizabeth, " pleaded Mrs. Pope. 

"And very wisely, ma'am. " Sir Cęsar nodded approval. "For, as I wasabout to say, reflect upon the extreme improbability--nay, the utterimpossibility--that--er--such a person could visit the Islandsunnoticed and actually spend three days on Garrison Hill undetected byany save yourself. Nay, if we grant the miracle of her arrival, who isto assure us that she has not by this time as mysteriously vanished? Inthat case, what have we to show for our suspicions? How, setting asidethe Major's indignation, shall we find ourselves less than a laughingstock for the whole population of the Islands?"

"And sarve ye right!" added Archelaus, who began to perceive that thisthundercloud had its silver lining. But if he counted on daunting MissGabriel, he was mistaken. 

"Turn you round, my man, " snapped that indomitable lady. "Turn youround, and give me a look at those coat-tails of yours. Ha!" sheexclaimed, as Archelaus, by habit obedient to the word of command, faced about towards the balustrade. "There was a coat-tail missingyesterday, if I remember, when you crept out from the bushes like awhipped urchin, and now there's two: and you'll be telling me thatthese fine stitches were put in by Jane Treacher, who is like mostsoldier's wives, and sews like a cow!"

"The Lord have mercy upon us!" said Archelaus, in a hushed voice. 

It took them two or three seconds to understand that the words were notan answer to Miss Gabriel; that he had spoken them to himself, staring--as he still stared--down the steps, down the green alleyleading to the terrace. 

Then, perceiving that something was amiss with the man, they toostepped to the balustrade and looked down--as up the leafy path camethe very woman of their speculations--Vashti, faultlessly arrayed, trailing a neat parasol and humming a song as she drew near. 

"The same!" gasped Miss Gabriel. "I call you to witness, Charlotte!"

"But, you'll excuse me, " Mr. Pope objected, "she don't appear to answerprecisely to a Jezebel. "

"You men think of nothing but outward show, " snapped Miss Gabriel. 

"Well, and that's something, " Archelaus put in with affability, hisspirits rising as the danger drew nearer. "Talk about Garrison Hill!She seems to be pretty well at home on Inniscaw, too. " For Vashti, halting in the chequered sunlight beneath a trellised arch, had reachedup the hooked handle of her sunshade to draw down the spray of a lateautumnal rose, and stood for a moment inhaling its odour. 

It may be that just then she caught sight of the watchers upon theterrace. If so, not a movement betrayed her. As though reluctantly, shereleased the branch and, as it sprang upward, resumed her way up thepath, disappearing for a moment under a massed canopy of Virgin'sBower. A few seconds, and she would emerge into view again, almost atthe foot of the terrace stairs. 

They waited. 

"But whatever has become of the woman?" asked Miss Gabriel. 

"It's confoundedly odd!" growled the Lord Proprietor. 

"She may have turned down a by-path. "

"There's no by-path within fifty yards of her. More likely she'sstopping to take a smell of the clematis. .. . We might step down andsee. " The Lord Proprietor suited the action to the words and led theway. 

"In my opinion, if you want it, " said Archelaus, "you won't find herthere. Because why? She's a ghost. "

"A ghost?" quavered Mrs. Pope. 

"Nonsense, my dear!" Her husband offered his arm to assist her down thesteps. "Such a beautiful young person!"

"The first time I saw her she didn't frighten me at all, " agreed Mrs. Pope; "but if she's going to bob in and out of sight in this way, Ishan't sleep in my bed to-night. "

A cry from the Lord Proprietor startled them. He had plunged down thepath beneath the overarching clematis. They ran to overtake him, andfound him staring at vacancy. Vashti had vanished, apparently into thinair. 

"Oh, but this is midsummer moonshine!" declared Sir Cęsar. "The womanmust be hiding somewhere near. Miss Gabriel, if you will kindly attendto Mrs. Pope, her husband and I will search the thickets hereabouts. "

They searched in the thickets and along the garden paths, but withoutrecovering a trace of the unknown. Not so much as a glimpse of herskirt rewarded them. 

Sergeant Archelaus abandoned the search early, dodged into theplantations on the left, and went his way chuckling, back to his boat. 

"A terrible trying morning, " he allowed, as he cast loose; "but the endwas worth it. "

CHAPTER XVIII

VASHTI PLEADS FOR SAARON

For twenty minutes Sir Cęsar and Mr. Pope beat the shrubberies, andeven carried their search down to the great walled garden which was oneof the wonders of Inniscaw. Tradition said that the old monks had builtit, of bricks baked upon the mainland; and that it had been theirfavourite pleasance, because its walls shut out all view of the sea. Certainly if the old monks had built this garden, they had built itwell. The Priory itself, of Caen stone, had lain in ruins for at leasttwo hundred years before the Lord Proprietor came to clear the site andbuild his new great house on the old foundations; but these brick wallsdefied the tooth of time. 

Magnificent walls they were, four feet in thickness, heavilybuttressed; the bricks set in mortar tougher than themselves. Theyenclosed two acres of rich black soil at the mouth of Inniscaw's onevalley, where it widens into a marsh beside the shore. Between them andthe water's edge stood the Lord Proprietor's new schoolhouse, above asmall landing quay; and within the schoolhouse a class was singing asSir Cęsar and Mr. Pope entered the old garden. The children's voicescame floating prettily over the old wall--so prettily that Abe Jenkins, the septuagenarian gardener, ceased working to comment upon it, leaningon his hoe and addressing Eli Tregarthen, who lounged by the gatewayleading to the shore. 

"Always fond of children, I was, " said Abe Jenkins, "though I neverpicked up courage to marry. 'Twas the women that always daunted me. Andnow I've a-come to a time o' life that I'm glad of it. A married manthrows his roots too deep, an' when Death come along, 'tis always toosoon for 'en. He wants to bide and see his youngest da'rter's child, orhe wants to linger and mend a thatch on the linhay--his married soncan't be brought to see the importance o't. .. . What with one thing andanother, I never knowed a married man yet 'was fit to die; whereas yourcheerful bachelor comes up clean as a carrot. What brings you acrossfrom Saaron to-day, Tregarthen? I'll wage 'tis to fetch your childrenback from school. "

"Partly, " assented Eli. 

"Iss; partly, that, an' to listen here to their voices soundin' sopretty across the wall. And partly, I reckon, 'tis on the chance to getspeech with the Lord Proprietor and persuade 'em to let you bide onSaaron. But that you'll never do. Mind, I'm not sayin' a word againstth' old curmudgeon. He's my employer, to start with, besides being whatGod made 'em. But, reason? You might as well try reason on the hind legof a jackass. Go thy ways home, Tregarthen: go thy ways home an' teachyourself that all this world and the kingdoms thereof be but what themind o' man makes 'em, and Saaron itself but a warren for rabbits. "

Tregarthen shook his head. 

"A barren rock. .. . Come now, bring your mind to it!" Abe suggested, coaxing. 

"'Tis no good, Abe. "

"A cottage in a vineyard--what says holy Isaiah? A lodge in a garden ofcucumbers--a besieged city----"

"Abe Jenkins!"--It was the Lord Proprietor's voice calling from theupper gate. 

"Y'r honour!" Abe snatched his hoe and wheeled about sharply as thegreat man came down the path with Mr. Pope at his heels. 

"How long have you been working here?" demanded Sir Cęsar. "Perhaps Ihad better have said 'idling, '" he added, with a frown and a curt nodat Tregarthen in the gateway. Sir Cęsar's gray eyebrows had a trick ofbristling up, like a cat's, at the first hint of unpleasantness, evenat sight of anyone who crossed his will; and they bristled now. 

"'Been workin' here the best part of the morning, " answered Abe, withan old man's freedom of tone and a complacent look backward at thepatch of turned soil. "And 'might have been workin' yet but thechildren singin' their hymn yonder"--with a jerk of his thumb towardsthe wall that hid the school building--"warned me 'twas time to knockoff for dinner. "

Now, the Lord Proprietor had meant his question for preface to another. "Had Abe, while at work, caught sight of a strange lady anywhere in thegarden?" The question, if put just then, and in Tregarthen's hearing, might have changed the whole current of this small history; forTregarthen was a poor hand at dissimulation--or, rather, was incapableof it. But the sight of his back, as he turned away, caused Sir Cęsar'seyebrows to bristle up yet more pugnaciously. 

"Hi, sir?"

Tregarthen turned slowly. 

"You are waiting here to fetch your children from school, I suppose?"

"Yes, " said Tregarthen. 

"And isn't that an instance, man, of what I tried to make youunderstand two days ago? Cannot you see what time and trouble you'll besaving yourself--let alone the children--when you're comfortablysettled on Brefar and within half-a-mile of a handy school?"

"Yes, " said Tregarthen again. His eyes met the Lord Proprietor'swithout servility as without disrespect, but with a kind of patientwonder. 

"Well, then"--Sir Cęsar turned to Mr. Pope for confirmation--"here is aman who--to give him his due, eh?--works as hard as any on the Islands;harder, I daresay, than his own hired labourer----"

Mr. Pope nodded. 

"--A man, " continued Sir Cęsar, "who never gives himself a holiday; aman whose nature it is to grudge every hour of the day that isn'temployed in wringing money out of a desert. Come now!"--warmed by hisown eloquence to a geniality equally hearty and false, Sir Cęsar swungaround again upon Mr. Pope--"I daresay we may call him, to his face, about the best of my farmers!"

Mr. Pope inclined, with the half of an embarrassed smile. As an agent, he felt any such appreciation of a tenant to be, if not dangerous, atleast uncalled for, liable to be misinterpreted. He contented himselfwith answering--in a murmur--that Mr. Tregarthen had given the estatein the past every satisfaction; that it would surprise him indeed if(at this time of day) Mr. Tregarthen were (of all men) to raisetrouble. 

But the Lord Proprietor, as a master of men, brushed this hesitancyaside, and with jovial tact. "A first-rate fellow, " he insisted. "Oneof our best! Only pig-headed, as the best always are. And so, when Ioffer him a choice of two farms, each better than his present one, hemust needs take it into his head that I'm doing him an injury. Such aman"--here Sir Cęsar wagged a forefinger at the accused--"needs to beprotected against himself. Such a man needs to be told--and prettystraight--that he is injuring others besides himself, and that, as Ihave authority in these Islands, so I owe it to my conscience to forbidhis letting his children grow into little savages. "

Eli Tregarthen looked up as though a stone had struck him. The colouron his face darkened. Hitherto (though suffering from it) he had notargued, even in his own mind, against Sir Cęsar's evicting him fromSaaron. He had resented it, as one resents mere brute force; but he hadnot argued with that which had never presented itself as resting uponargument. .. . Though he knew himself to be a slow-witted man, Eli had aclear sense of his wife's wisdom, and that wisdom irradiated for himany argument which came--as this accusation of neglecting the childrensurely came--within range of Ruth. 

"If you dare to say that again, " said Eli, "I'll knock your head off. "

All three of them heard it--the Lord Proprietor, Mr. Pope, and oldAbe--though neither could believe his ears. For Eli had spoken quitequietly and distinctly. Mr. Pope was the first to recover; but beforehe could get in a word, Eli was following up the attack--still nothastily, still with a slow pause on every word. 

"You? What do you know of children, that never had a child? And what doyou know of Saaron or any other island, that never took your life herenor made your living? You fill your pockets in a London shop; you gooff to an auction, and there you bid for these Islands, that you'venever seen. But what did you buy, you little man, over and above thepower to make yourself a nuisance in your day? Was it understanding ofthe Islands? Or a birthright in 'em? Or a child to leave it to?. .. There, I do wrong to be angered with 'ee--you've got so little by yourbargain! But you put a strain upon a man, you do--talkin' of childrenin that way. Children?" The man paused with something like a groan. Aninstant before it had been in his mind to tell Sir Cęsar passionatelythat, so far from grudging the time spent in fetching Annet, Linnet andMatthew Henry from school, he looked forward to it as the one brightbreak in a day that began before sunrise and lasted till after sunset. It had been on the tip of his tongue, too, to say, with equal passion, that any man who spoke of them as savages insulted his wife's care ofthem. But eloquence had come to him, now for the first time in hislife, as an inspiration. At the first check he stammered, and brokedown; and so, with a hunch of his shoulders, turned his back on hisaudience and walked off heavily down the lane. 

Mr. Pope, with great tact, laid a hand lightly on the Lord Proprietor'sarm and conducted him back to the gate by which they had entered. There, yet gasping for speech, the great man lifted his eyes, and wasaware of Mrs. Pope and Miss Gabriel distractedly advancing along thepath. 

With a gulp he pulled himself together, and walked forward to informthem that the chase had been unsuccessful; that not a glimpse of thefugitive had been discovered. Resuming a hold upon his gallantry, hehoped that his visitors would remain for luncheon. "After which, " headded, with a creditable smile, "we may, if we will, resume the searchin more philosophical mood. "

But here again Mr. Pope was tactful. He divined that his patron wassuffering; that the wound needed, for the moment, solitude and silenceto ease its smart. He was sorry to deprive the ladies of such apleasure; but, for his part, business called him back to Garland Town. He had, he regretted to say, an engagement at two o'clock sharp. To besure, if the ladies chose to stay, he could send back the boat forthem. .. . But this he said knowing that his wife was thoroughlyfrightened, and that (as she herself put it later) wild horses wouldnot induce her to remain, lacking his protection. 

The Lord Proprietor escorted his visitors down to the landing quay andthere helped the ladies to embark. The search for the fair fugitive (hepromised them) should be vigorously prosecuted. She was not likely toelude it for long, and he would at once report success. Theleave-takings over, he stood by the shore until the small boat had madeher offing, and so, with a farewell lift of the hat, turned and walkedmoodily towards the house. 

He was relieved to be alone after the morning's very painfulexperiences. Twice since breakfast he had been wounded in his dignity, and nowhere does a man of his nature suffer more acutely. Nor could thewounds be covered over and hidden, for he had taken them openly, almostpublicly. His anger swung helplessly forward and back between the twooutrages, both to him inexplicable. To be sure he had not reckoned onany gratitude for the gift of the breeches. But what had he done thatthey should be flaunted on a scarecrow?. .. Oh, it was monstrous!

As little could he understand Tregarthen or Tregarthen's language. Somegadfly must have stung the man. A few acres of the barrenest land inthe whole archipelago--and the fellow talked as though he were beingdispossessed of an Eden! Yes, and as though that were not enough, hehad used the flattest disrespect. The Lord Proprietor was notaccustomed to disrespect. From the first his Islanders had treated himwith the deference due to a king. Save and except the Commandant, noman had ever crossed his will or disputed his authority. 

His rage swung back again upon the Commandant. It was all very well toplead that the Commandant had been in church at the time; but, afterall, an officer must be held responsible for his men's doings. LetMajor Vigoureux beware! More than once the Lord Proprietor had beenminded to memorialise the War Office and inquire why the taxpayers'money should be wasted to maintain three superannuated soldiers at fullpay in a deserted barracks. 

"Upon my word, " said the Lord Proprietor to himself, "I've a mind torun over to Garrison Hill and ask Vigoureux what the devil he means byit. Either he knows of this, or he doesn't: I'll soon learn which. Ineither case I'll have an apology; and, what's more, I'll teach himwho's master here, once for all. "

He had reached the terrace, and paused there for a moment to drawbreath after his climb, at the same time throwing a glance across theblue waters of the roadstead towards Garrison Hill and the whitebuildings upon it slumbrous in the autumn haze. The glance threatenedmischief to that unconscious fortress and a sharp nod of the headconfirmed the threat. 

"Yes, yes, this very afternoon! The sooner the better!"

He swung about and stepped across the terrace to a French window thatstood open to the air and sunshine. It was the window of the morningroom, where he usually took his luncheon, and he passed in briskly, meaning to ring the bell and give orders to have the meal served atonce. But, as he stepped across the low sill somebody rose in theroom's cool shadow and confronted him, and he fell back catching at thejamb for support and staring. 

It was the stranger herself: the woman for whom they had all beenvainly searching!

"Good morning!" said Vashti, with a self-possessed little bow. "Oh, butI fear I have startled you?"

"Ah--er--" the Lord Proprietor pulled himself together with aneffort--"Well, to tell the truth? you did take me by surprise; the moreso that----"

"It was dreadfully uncivil of me--not to say impudent--to walk in hereunannounced. But the fact is I could find no door along the terrace;nothing but windows. Forgive me. "

"Certainly, madam, certainly. .. . The front door is, so to speak, at therear of the building. .. . But I was going to say that you took me themore by surprise because, as a matter of fact, I had just given uphunting for you. "

Vashti laughed. She looked adorably cool and provoking; and still, ashe stared at her, the Lord Proprietor wondered more and more whence inthe world she came. He knew little of female beauty (the late LadyHutchins had been plain-featured) and less of clothes; but three orfour times in his life, at public functions, he had mixed with thegreat ones of the land, and here patently was one of them. Her speech, dress, bearing, all proclaimed it; her easy self-possession, too, andair of authority. Out of what Olympus had she descended upon theseremote Atlantic isles?

"I saw that you had company, " she answered, "and I ran away. To tellyou the truth I was a little afraid of them--that is to say, of some ofthem. But what was Archelaus doing here?"

The Lord Proprietor frowned. 

"Did he come to apologise? Oh, but that is just one of the reasons thatbrought me here! You must not be angry with Archelaus; no, really, itwas not his fault, at all, but mine. "

"I think, ma'am, " said the Lord Proprietor, "we are talking atcross-purposes. "

"No, no, we are not, " she corrected him briskly with a little laugh. "We are talking about that unhappy scarecrow. " She paused, as thoughchecked by irrepressible mirth, and he flushed hotly. "And no, again!"she went on, perceiving this; "I was laughing at Archelaus--poorfellow!--overtaken here by his accusers. Did they make it very painfulfor him?"

"Even supposing him capable of shame--which I doubt--I certainly do notthink he suffered more than he deserved. "

"You are very much annoyed?" asked Vashti, suddenly serious. "Well, then, I am sorry. It was all my suggestion--though it never entered myhead that anyone would be walking that way and catch sight of--of thething. I meant it to be a little surprise for the Commandant when hecame home from church; though when he returned and heard what hadhappened, he scolded me terribly. "

"You will excuse me"--the Lord Proprietor drew himself up stiffly--"ifI fail to see either where the humour comes in, or why you--a stranger, unknown to me even by name----"

"Ah, to be sure! My name is Cara. "

"Then, as I was saying, Miss Cara, I fail to see----"

"And you are quite right of course, " Vashti made haste to agree. "Iought not to have done it. But weren't you, too, a little bit to blame?It wasn't very nice of you, you know. "

"I beg your pardon? What wasn't very nice of me?"

"Why, to hurt their feelings; and especially the Commandant's. He is apoor man; poor, and sensitive, and easily hurt. "

"You are talking to me in riddles, Miss Cara. I have done nothing atall to hurt the Commandant's feelings. "

"Not intentionally, of course. I told him--and I told the sergeanttoo--that I was sure you never meant to wound them. It would have beentoo cruel. "

"But, " protested the Lord Proprietor, "I have done nothing, I tell you;nothing beyond presenting Sergeant Archelaus with--with an article ofattire of which he stood badly in need. Miss Gabriel, some weeks ago, drew my attention to the state of the poor fellow's--er--wardrobe, andsuggested that something might be done. "

"I thought so, " Vashti nodded. "I dare say now, " she went on, afterseeming to muse for a moment, "you are one of those strong-minded menwho find it hard to understand how sensible people can worry over whatthey put on their backs!"

"That happens to be a constant source of wonder with me, " he confessed;"though for the life of me I can't tell how you came to guess it. "

"Never mind how I guessed it, " said Vashti, smiling. "The point is, that you take this lofty and very scornful view of clothes, and yet youmust have noticed that many men of your acquaintance--men otherwisesensible--take quite another; that in the city, for instance, a hardfelt hat is not usually worn with a frock coat. "

"Granted, " said the Lord Proprietor; "though I could never understandwhy. "

"And you have noticed that soldiers are even more particular; and thereason with them is perhaps a little more easily grasped. Their uniformis a symbol, so to speak. It stands for the service to which a goodsoldier should be devoted. "

"If you had seen that man's small-clothes!"

"Yes, I grant that Archelaus neglects his regimentals. But to neglectthem, and to be willing to mix them up with civilian clothes, are twovery different things. Perhaps you did not think of this?"

"Really, now, " answered Sir Cęsar, "I should not have supposed that itmattered what these men wore, in such an out-of-the-world spot. "

Vashti's eyes rested on him for a second or two, in a kind of wonderingdespair at his obtuseness. But she controlled herself to reply quitepatiently:

"At any rate, it was wrong of me to encourage the men's resentment, andI came here this morning to beg your pardon. "

He acknowledged this with a bow, but stood silent for a moment, eyeingher. 

"You are a relative of Major Vigoureux?" he asked, after a pause. 

"No. "

"You are staying with him, I understand?"

"No. " Vashti shook her head, with a smile. "But I very much want you toforgive me, " she went on; "for I have another favour to ask you. "

Again he bowed slightly. "You give my curiosity no rest, Miss Cara, andI perceive you mean to satisfy it only in your own way. As forthe--er--incident we have been discussing, pray consider that--so faras you are concerned--I dismiss it. " He did so with a slight wave ofthe hand. "You wish to ask me a favour?"

"I do. I came to plead with you; to say a word on behalf of EliTregarthen, your tenant on Saaron Island. "

The Lord Proprietor started. "Are you at the bottom of that also?" heasked, angrily. 

Vashti's eyes opened wide in astonishment. 

"I beg your pardon?" she murmured. "I do not understand. "

"It seems to me, " he caught her up, "that for a total stranger, you arelosing remarkably little time. "

"In what, sir?" she demanded, facing him fairly, with a lift of herhandsome chin. 

"In subverting my authority, ma'am; or, rather, in prompting others tosubvert it. .. . Though, to be sure, " he went on, in sarcastic wrath, "itmay again be an accident that I happened on Eli Tregarthen less than anhour ago, and that he used very insolent language to me in the presenceof my agent. "

"It was not only an accident, " said Vashti, slowly, and with patentsincerity; "it was one that, since I came here to urge his suit, Iwould have given a great deal to prevent. " She paused, and for a momentseemed to be musing. "Must I understand, then, that you refuse to heara word in his favour?"

"The man is a fool!" Sir Cęsar clasped his hands behind him under hiscoat-tails, and paced the room. "His insolence to me apart, he is acomplete fool! I offer him the choice of two farms--either one of themacre for acre, worth twice the rental of Saaron. .. . I simply cannotunderstand!"

"No, " said Vashti, with a little sigh, "you cannot understand. "

He had reached the fireplace, and wheeled round on her, his back to thehearth and his legs a-straddle. 

"What can I not understand?" he demanded. 

"Many things. " Vashti met his eyes for a moment, then turned her own tothe window and the blue waterways beyond the terrace, beyond the massedtree-tops of the pleasure grounds. "Many things, and the Islands inparticular. You did not understand just now that a soldier, thoughcondemned to stand sentry in a forgotten outpost, can still besensitive for the honour of his service, because the root of his lifelies there. You cannot understand that the root of Eli Tregarthen'slife goes down into the soil he has tilled from childhood as hisparents tilled it. To you Garrison Hill is a tumble-down fort, andSaaron Island a barren rock; yet you call them yours, because you havepurchased them. And, nevertheless--to do you justice--you are not onewho rates everything by its price in money. If you were, I could begyou to take a higher rent for Saaron and leave Eli Tregarthenundisturbed. "

He shook his head. "The man pays me a fair rent; as much as I canconscientiously ask. I have a conscience, Miss Cara, and a sense ofresponsibility. It is not good that Tregarthen lets his children runwild there, so far from school. "

"And if, sir, " she went on, "you are doing this for the children'ssake, I could promise you that there are means to educate them betterthan any children on the Islands. But the difficulty does not lie withthe children. It lies in your sense of possession, which makes SaaronFarm there"--she waved a hand--"an eyesore in the view from thiswindow, and simply because Eli Tregarthen has crossed your will. Youdefend an instinct of selfishness that takes about five minutes to passinto a principle with any man who buys land. You maintain thelandlord's right to ordain the lives on your estate, and command themto be as you think best; nor does it seem to you to affect your claimfor power that we understood and drew our nature from the Islands foryears before ever you came to hear of them. "

"Radicalism, ma'am!"

"Yes, sir. It is for the roots I plead, against your claim that thesurface gives all. "

He thrust his hands under his coat-tails again, and took a turn up anddown the room. 

"I do not affect to agree with you, Miss Cara, " said he, not lookingtowards her when she stood by the French window, but stretching out hishand to the bell. "Yet, as owner of these Islands, I desire to be just. I desire also to understand these Islanders, of whom, it appears, youknow so much more than I. And if you do me the honour to take luncheonwith me--" Here he broke off, to ring at the bell-pull. "But I warn youI am tenacious as well as curious, and shall demand to know a littlemore of my lecturer. "

He turned and stood blinking. Vashti had disappeared. The room wasempty. 

He took a step to the open window, sprang out upon the terrace, andglanced to right and left. 

The terrace, too, was empty. He hurried to the stairway leading downthrough the shrubberies. Not so much as the glimpse of a flying skirtrewarded him. 

CHAPTER XIX

THE COMMANDANT'S CONSCIENCE

"The Lord Proprietor to see you, sir!"

Archelaus, presenting himself at the door of the Commandant's office, with a slightly flushed but inscrutable face, drew aside and flattenedhimself against the door-jamb to let Sir Cęsar enter. 

The Commandant closed the book in which he had been adding up accountswhich never came right, and stood up in something of a flurry. He wasdressed with more than ordinary care. The lapels and collar of hisuniform-coat had been treated to a vigorous brushing. In fact, he wasarrayed for action: to step down the hill in an hour's time, to callupon Mr. Fossell at the Bank and draw his pay, if any should beforthcoming. 

"Good morning, Major!"

"Good morning, Sir Cęsar. " The Commandant nodded towards a chair. 

"I thank you. " Sir Cęsar set down his hat upon the edge of thewriting-table, drew off his gloves, tossed them into his hat, andseated himself. "I--er--called in the first place to speak about anunfortunate--er--incident that happened on Garrison Hill here lastSunday. "

"Ah, " said the Commandant, "so you have heard about it? I am sorry. "

"Sorry for what, sir?"

"Sorry that anyone should have thought it worth while to carry tales toyou; but also sorry for the incident itself. "

"It appears to me, Major Vigoureux, that the incident demands someapology. "

"I have made it. "

Sir Cęsar crossed his legs and coughed to clear his throat. "I think, my dear sir, " said he, in a tone at once slightly pompous and slightlynervous, "I really think it's time that you and I came to anunderstanding; that we--er--recognised, so to speak, the situation, andplayed with the cards on the table. Do you agree with me?"

"I might, " answered the Commandant, guardedly; "that is to say, if Iunderstood. "

"I acquit you, of course, of any active share in the incident, and I amassured that Archelaus and Treacher were no worse than accomplices. Itappears that the real culprit was a totally different person, and, " hewent on, after a glance at the Commandant's face, which betrayednothing, "it may save time if I tell you that she has confessed to me. "

"Excuse me, I was not proposing to make any remark. "

"But who in the world is the young person?"

The Commandant's eyebrows arched themselves slightly. "She is a lady, "he answered, in a dry voice. "If she omitted to tell you her name, theomission was no doubt intentional, and she has carried her confessionjust so far as she intended it to go. "

"She called herself Cara; but the name tells me nothing. Who is she? Iagree with you as to her address and appearance: she is in everyrespect--er--presentable. A relative, may I inquire?"

"No. "

"A friend, then? You will pardon me? A delicate question to put, ofcourse. "

Again the Commandant's eyebrows went up slightly. "She was my guest fora day or two, " he answered. 

"_Was?_ Then where in the world is she staying now?"

"If she did not tell you--" began the Commandant, but Sir Cęsarinterrupted him impatiently. 

"Tell me? Devil a bit of it, and that's partly why I'm here. Vanishedlike a witch, begad, while I was turning to ring the bell! And whereshe went or where she came from are mysteries alike to me. "

"Why, then, " the Commandant pursued, in a steady musing voice, "itseems to follow that, even if I knew, I have not her permission totell. "

The Lord Proprietor uncrossed and recrossed his legs irritably. "Come, come, Vigoureux, this will hardly do. Will it, now? I put it to you asa man of the world. No doubt it's all innocent enough, but folks willtalk. And, after all, I'm responsible for any--er--scandal affectingthe Islands. Hey?"

The Commandant rose with a sudden flush on his face. 

"Scandal, Sir Cęsar? Oh, to be sure, I cannot understand you. "

"Tut-tut!" The Lord Proprietor smiled. "Of course, we know there'snothing in it. A young lady--youngish, at least--and you old enough tobe her father. But, all the same, tongues will wag. "

"And they have been wagging?" The Commandant, after a short turn acrossthe room and back, stood over him, his hands crossed under his coattails. "But yours, sir, is the only one that has dared to wag in mypresence. "

"Sir!" The Lord Proprietor jumped to his feet. 

"You have put many humiliations upon me, Sir Cęsar; and because theyaffected me only, I have endured them. But in this you go too far. "

The Lord Proprietor, on the verge of an angry retort, checked himself, with a short laugh. 

"I refuse to lose my temper with you, " said he. "You are unreasonable. You misconceive me as imputing scandal when, as a matter of fact, I wastrying to assure you that I rejected the imputation. For me, thedisparity in age alone----"

The Commandant, with a wave of his hand to the door, turned awaywearily. 

"I merely thought it right to warn you, " pursued Sir Cęsar, takingheart of grace as his opponent appeared to weaken, "that others may beless charitable. And they look to me. I think--I really think--youmight consider the delicacy of my position; that I am--er--ultimatelyresponsible for the good name of these Islands. "

But here he paused with a start; for the Commandant had wheeled aboutsuddenly, and stood over him, and the Commandant's eyes were dangerous. 

"Sir Cęsar"--the Commandant controlled his voice with an effort, for itshook a little--"in the last few minutes some things have been madeplain to me which were hitherto obscure. I have wondered sometimes, here in these forsaken barracks, at actions of yours which seemeddeliberately calculated to annoy one who--Heaven knows--started withevery wish to be friendly. Saving my own small personal dignity, ofwhich from indolence I have been too careless, I have reserved nothingof my old importance in these Islands which, before you purchased them, I had governed. Men, even the least assuming, do not forfeit all power, all consideration, without a wrench; and I am but human. I relinquishedthem, and without the help of a single kind word from you, by which thesacrifice might at least have been mitigated. I wondered. Later, whenyou heaped one small humiliation upon another, I concluded that I musthave had the misfortune to incur your personal dislike, and toldmyself, after searching for the cause and finding none, that personaldislikes are usually inexplicable. But now I see that I have been doingyou an injustice; that your affronts were not considered; that you haveall along, likely enough, been entirely unconscious of offence; that, in short, you are as Heaven made you, and I cannot hold a quarrel withany man's mere defects, whether congenital or of breeding. I shall notwaste time by inquiring to which of the two classes your obtusenessshould justly be assigned. It is enough that I recognise the mistakeand apologise for it. I see now that you are obtuse--that and nothingmore. But since your obtuseness wounds more than you can possiblydivine; and since in this instance it injures a lady, I shall ask youto pay my poor quarters the last respect you owe them, and quit themwithout further discussion. "

He stepped to his writing-table and struck on a small hand-bell. Promptly on the summons Sergeant Archelaus appeared in the doorway; sopromptly, indeed, that he might have found it hard, undercross-examination, to rebut the charge of having stood listeningoutside. 

The Lord Proprietor, however, was in no condition to put a searchingquestion. He arose, gasping, his eyes rolling from the Commandant toArchelaus and back. He felt for his hat like a man groping in the dark, clutched it, and set it on his head with an experimental air, as thoughit would not have entirely surprised him to find his feet in the placeof his head. 

"I suppose, " he stammered, "it has occurred to you that you may pay forthis?"

"It occurred to me, " answered the Commandant, coolly and amiably, "thatyou might threaten it. "

"You shall, by God!"

The Commandant bowed. 

"You shall certainly repent this, sir. " The Lord Proprietor crammed hishat on his head. 

"May I ask you to observe that my servant is standing in the doorway?"

Sir Cęsar turned, shot a glance at Archelaus, and for an instantappeared to be on the point of including master and man in onedenunciation. But either he thought better of it or his rage chokedhim. With a final tap on the crown of his hat, to settle it firmly onhis brows, he strode past the rigid figure by the threshold and outinto the open air. 

He had never been so outraged! For fifty or a hundred yards, as hedescended the hill, his fury almost blinded him. His face wascongested; the back of his neck swollen and purple, as though apoplexythreatened. His ears showed red as a turkey's wattles. He stumbled onthe ill-paved path. What! To be lectured thus by a man whose continuedresidence on the Islands was a public scandal--a fellow who, past allusefulness, lived on in lazy desuetude, content to take the taxpayers'money while doing nothing in return! And the worst--the gall, thewormwood of it--was that this despised foe had silenced him--nay, hadsilenced him almost contemptuously. "But wait a bit, my fine fellow!"swore the Lord Proprietor, blundering down the hill. "Wait until wehear what the War Office has to say about your precious garrison; oruntil, failing satisfaction there, I get a question asked in Parliamentabout you!"

Could the Lord Proprietor have looked back at this moment into the roomwhere sat the victorious enemy, he might have been in some measureconsoled. 

The Commandant, having dismissed Archelaus with a wave of the hand, waited while the door closed, and dropping into the chair before hiswriting-table, bowed his head upon his hands. .. . Oh, it is easy to talklightly of riches, and of the power that riches give! But in this worldit is not so easy for a man with just one penny in his pocket to standup against an enemy solidly backed by a banking account. He feels thatthough his cause be right and his conscience clear, his position isprecarious: that the world, if it knew the truth, would regard himalmost as an imposter. The feeling may be unreasonable, the fearcowardly; but there it is, and it had cost the Commandant all his pluckto face the encounter out. Moreover, his conscience was not clear. 

Sir Cęsar, too, had (all unwittingly) planted an arrow and left it torankle. "Old enough to be her father!" The Commandant shut his lipshard upon the pain. He could not expel it: he knew it would awake againin the watches of the night: but for the present he must ignore it. Hehad a second ordeal to face. 

As he sat there for a minute or two, his face resting on his hands, hisspirit abandoned to weakness, he heard the steady ticking of the clockon the chimney-piece behind him. He counted the strokes, and all of asudden they recalled him to the present. He pulled himself together, stood up, and, reaching down a clothes-brush from its hook beside thedoor, walked over to the chimney-piece and to a small mirror that stoodbehind the clock. 

"Old enough to be her father. " Again, as he caught sight of his face inthe glass the smart revived; but again he expressed it, and fell tobrushing his worn tunic with extreme care. It had always been hispractice to dress punctiliously before going into action, even on darknights in front of Sevastopol, where all niceties of dress were lost atonce in the slush of the trenches. His forage-cap received almost ascareful a brushing as his tunic: and from his cap he turned hisattention to the knees of his trousers and to his boots, one of whichwas cracked, albeit not noticeably. He had half a mind to black itsedges over with pen and ink, but refrained. Somehow it suggestedimposture, and to-day he winced sensitively away from the first hint ofimposture. He must walk down-hill delicately, like Agag. To-morrowHarvey, the Garland Town cobbler, would repair the damage with a coupleof stitches, at the cost of one penny: and the Commandant reflectedwith a melancholy smile that he possessed precisely that sum. 

His toilet complete, he took a last look in the mirror to assurehimself that his face betrayed none of the anxiety eating at his heart. It was paler than ordinary, but calm. He drew a long breath, and walkedout to the front door. At his feet the chimneys of the small town sentup their mid-day smoke; beyond, the Atlantic twinkled with itsinnumerable smile. The hour was come. As he stepped out upon the roadhe cast a glance to right and left along his deserted batteries, andanswered the smile of Ocean whimsically, ruefully. If only, as anartilleryman, he could have summoned Mr. Fossell's Bank by a droppingshot! This business of hand-to-hand assault belonged by rights toanother branch of the service. 

Mr. Fossell stood behind the counter in conference with a junior clerk, and the sunshine pouring through the windows--the only plate-glasswindows in Garland Town--gilded the dome of Mr. Fossell's bald head. Asthe Commandant entered, Mr. Fossell looked up and nodded pleasantly, ina neighbourly way, albeit with a touch of ironical interrogation. Hehad heard gossip from his friend Pope of the doings on Garrison Hill, and, so far as he allowed himself to be jocose, he meant his glance tobe interpreted. "Well, you are a pretty fellow! And pray what accountare you going to give of yourself?" But very different thoughtspreoccupied the Commandant, and his fears took alarm. 

"Good morning, " said the Commandant, and forced a smile. "You have beenexpecting me, I hope?"

"Dear, dear!" Mr. Fossell affected surprise. "You don't tell me thatpay-day has come round again already?" This again, was a form ofpleasantry which he repeated month after month; but to-day he slightlyover-acted it. 

"The--the money is here?" stammered the Commandant. 

"My dear Major, I hope so--I sincerely hope so, " Mr. Fossell answered, with a humorous look around him. "I do most sincerely trust we may beable to meet your demand for--let me see, fifteen-eighteen-six, is itnot?--without being forced to put up the shutters. " Mr. Fossellchuckled quietly. 

The Commandant drew a long breath. 

"Always supposing, " resumed Mr. Fossell, "that the draft is in order, as usual; on which point, to tell you the truth, I have been too busyto satisfy myself. But the paper arrived two days ago, and is in myoffice--if you will excuse me for a moment. "

He stepped towards a door at the back, panelled with frosted glass, opened it, and disappeared into his office. The Commandant waited. Three minutes passed. 

"Very fine weather, sir, for the time of the year, " said the clerk, blotting an entry and looking up from his ledger. 

"Eh? Oh, certainly . .. Yes, very fine indeed. " The Commandant recalledhimself with a painful effort. 

"And the glass steady as a rock. " The clerk closed a smaller book athis elbow and replaced it in a line of similar volumes on a shelf abovethe desk behind him. "I saw you out, sir, in your boat, the day beforeyesterday, to the west of Saaron--fishing for bass, or so I took theliberty of guessing. "

"For bass?. .. Yes, oh, most decidedly. "

"Knowing fish, the bass!" hazarded the young man, combing hisside-locks with his pen and carefully bestowing it behind his ear. "Youfound the water a bit too clear, sir, I expect?"

"So far as I remember--" began the Commandant, and paused. (What onearth was delaying Fossell?)

"You will excuse me, sir, but might I ask what bait you employ as arule?"

The Commandant answered that for preference he used sand-eels. Theclerk replied that sand-eels took some getting; and that, if the remarkwouldn't be taken amiss, it was all very well to talk of sand-eels whenyou were in a position to employ a couple of men to spend half a day innetting them for you; but that for a young chap in his position, sand-eels were out of the question. 

"There's the bank-hours, to begin with, " he wound up, lucidly; "and, besides, when you've caught 'em they're the most perishable baitgoing. "

The Commandant incoherently promised to reserve a portion of his nextcatch, and to send Archelaus with a creelful; all this with his eyeswandering in desperation to the glass door. The young man was profusein thanks. 

"You will excuse my discussing sport with you, sir? Sport, they say, puts all men on a level--though, of course, I should not dream ofclaiming----"

But at this point the glass door opened, and Mr. Fossell emerged, briskly, holding what appeared to be a fair-sized stone. 

"How will you take it?" he asked, depositing this upon the counter. 

"I beg your pardon?" the Commandant stammered, his eyes riveted on thestone. 

"Notes or gold?" Mr. Fossel picked the specimen up, and rubbed itgently with his sleeve. "Now, that's a queer thing, eh? Mybrother-in-law sent it to me last week, and I've been using it for apaper-weight, not being a scientific man. But just you look into it. Hetells me there are hundreds lying about where he lives--Ogwell, theplace is, in Devonshire, just behind Newton Abbot--and that they'recalled madrepores. He's a humorous fellow, too, is my brother-in-law. You see the joke, of course?"

"I can't say that I do, exactly, " the Commandant confessed. 

"Good gracious! Fossil--Fossell: this is a fossil, you see, and I'mcalled Fossell: and so he sends it to me. He has made a good deal offun out of my name before now, in his humorous way. Not that I mind, ofcourse. "

"I dare say not. Did you say that the papers were all right?"

"The papers?. .. Yes, of course, the papers are all right. Will you takeit in notes or gold?" "In gold, if you please. " The Commandant caughtat the edge of the counter, while his heart leapt, and the bankpremises seemed to whirl around him. 

"Fifteen-eighteen-six . .. Be so good as to verify it, if you please, "said Mr. Fossell, counting out the coins--the blessed coins! "But Iwant you just to take a look into the thing. Looks like a piece ofcoral, eh? See the delicate lines of it? And my brother-in-law tells meit was once alive--a kind of fish--and got itself embedded in thispiece of limestone because it was too lazy to move. A lesson inthat"--Mr. Fossell wagged his head sagely--"if we choose to take it! Tobe sure, it happened thousands of years ago; but there it is--and hereare we. For my part, I don't look at things humorously like mybrother-in-law. I like to find a serious moral where I can. "

The Commandant counted the coins and dropped them into his pocket. Their weight seemed to make a man of him again. He bent and affected toexamine the madrepore. 

Mr. Fossell bent also. He was on the point of asking--in a low voice, that the clerk might not overhear--for an explanation of Miss Gabriel'sgossip. But at this juncture a client entered, and the Commandantescaped. He went up the hill with a new centre of gravity: so differentis a load in the pocket from a load on the heart. 

CHAPTER XX

THE GUITAR AND THE CASEMENT

"A parcel for you, sir!"

Sergeant Archelaus had spied the Commandant coming up the hill, and methim on the barrack doorstep with the news. 

"A parcel?" The Commandant had walked straight from the bank to Mr. Tregaskis' shop, and there paid his account; but he had made nopurchases. "There must be some mistake, Archelaus; I have orderednothing in the town. "

"From the mainland, sir. "

"God bless my soul!"

"Yes, sir, and marked 'Fragile'; a good-sized box, but uncommon lightto handle. The steamer brought it across this morning, and I've carriedit into the office and placed hammer and chisel handy. "

"Now what in the world can this mean?" asked the Commandant, a minutelater, after studying the box and its label. He turned to Archelaus, who had followed him into the office in a state of suppressedexcitement. "It is certainly addressed to me; and yet--It must behalf-a-dozen years, Archelaus, since anyone sent me a parcel from themainland. "

"There's but one way to discover, " said Archelaus, picking up thechisel. "Shall I open it, sir?"

"No; give it to me. " The Commandant took the tools from him and easilypried open the lid, for the scantling was light, almost flimsy. Withinlay an object in an oilskin case, by the shape of it, apparently aviolin; and yet somewhat larger than a violin. 

Yes, certainly it was a musical instrument; and the Commandant had nosooner made sure of this than with his hand on the string that tied thewrapper, he paused. 

"It is evident, Archelaus"--his tone betrayed somedisappointment--"that this parcel belongs to Miss Cara. Having noaddress of her own that could be given with safety, she has ordered itto be sent to me. "

"Ben't you even going to open and take a look at it?" asked Archelaus, as his master slowly replaced it in the box. 

"I think not. .. . Miss Cara will call for it, no doubt, since no doubtshe has been watching for the steamer's arrival. "

Archelaus withdrew, reluctantly, not without a sense of expectationcheated. Nor, as it proved, was his grievance altogether groundless. The Commandant stood for a minute or so in a brown study, eyeing thebox. Then, his curiosity overmastering him, he reached out and drew theparcel forth again; turned it over in his hands, and very slowly undidthe strings, which were of green ribbon. 

The wrapper fell apart, disclosing a guitar. 

The instrument was clearly an old one, and, as clearly of considerablevalue, being inlaid with tortoise-shell and mother-of-pearl in delicatearabesques that must have cost its unknown maker many months, if notwhole years, of patient labour. Its varnish, smooth and transparent asfinest glass, belonged to the same date, and had been laid on, if notby the same hand, by one no less careful. Something more than acraftsman's pride had surely inspired the exquisite workmanship, thedeft and joyous pattern that chased itself in and out as though smilingat its own intricacy. A gift for the artist's mistress, perhaps? Or atoy for some dead and gone princess?. .. Yet it had been played upon, and recently. One or two of its relaxed strings showed evidences offraying; and the sender had tied a small packet of new strings aroundthe neck. 

The Commandant, after peering into its pattern for a while, held theguitar out at arm's length; and, holding it so, broke into a shortlaugh--at the thought that this thing had been sent to him. 

Yet, here it was. Undoubtedly it belonged to Vashti, and his heartleapt at the thought that she would be coming to fetch it. For threedays he had been missing her. It seemed that she had chosen to pass outof his life as suddenly, as waywardly, as she had invaded it; that, crossing the threshold of Saaron Farm, she had closed its door upon himand upon a brief episode to be remembered by him henceforth as a dreamonly--a too happy dream. 

 "Ah, had we never met--or, having met, Had I been wiser or thy heart less wild!"

He had pulled home that Sunday night, to brood alone over a half-deadfire; and, brooding there, had surmised what the morrow madecertain--that she had taken with her yet more than she had evenbrought; that even what colour, what small interest, had formerlycheered the daily round on Garrison Hill and made it tolerable, was nowgone out of it forever. 

Well, for good or ill, this, at all events, would need to be enduredbut a little while longer. His discharge was in sight. He had postedhis letter. 

He did not tell himself that but for Vashti it had never been written. Or, if this crossed his mind, it suggested no more than gratitude. Quite unwittingly she had helped him play the man. He had done theright thing, let follow what might. 

He could not force his mind upon possible consequences, to face them orto fret over them. Between this present hour and then, one thought, like a bright angel, stood in the way. Vashti was coming!

Ah, but when? Would she come openly, by day, as she had invadedInniscaw?. .. He spent the afternoon in his office, sorting out uselesscorrespondence, clearing desks, drawers, pigeon-holes of theaccumulations of years, unconsciously preparing for the day of hisdischarge. It kept his thoughts employed, and he worked hard--readingthrough the dusty papers, tearing them up, consigning some to thewaste-paper basket others to the fire, which by-and-by grew sullenunder its task. Twilight fell. .. . She would come, then, after dusk, andsecretly--mooring her boat in the hiding-place under the Keg of ButterBattery, away from inquisitive eyes. At half-past five Archelausbrought him his tea. At six, having washed and refreshed himself, theCommandant fell to work again more doggedly. Only now and again hebroke off for a few moments to listen. But Vashti did not come. 

He worked until half-past nine. He heard the clock strike the half-hourfrom the chimney-piece, and looked up almost in dismay. It was certainnow that she would not come. Of a sudden, as though to hide from himthe full measure of his disappointment, as he had been hiding fromhimself the full eagerness of his hopes, a loathing took him--a savagescorn of his useless labour. He stared at his grimed hands with ashiver of disgust, and, rising impatiently, swept together thefragments of paper strewn about the floor, tossed them upon the dyingfire, and went off to his room for another wash. 

She would not come; and there remained yet an hour between him and hisusual bed-time. Returning to his office, he met Archelaus on thestairs. 

"Going to bed, eh?" asked the Commandant. 

"Ay, sir, " Archelaus answered, and paused for that remark on theweather which, in the Islands, always goes with "Good morning" or "Goodnight. " "Glass don't vary very much, and wind don't vary, thoughseemin' to me it's risin' a little. Still in the nor'west it is; andhere ends another day. "

The Commandant looked at him sharply, but passed downstairs with nomore than a "Good night. " So Archelaus, too, was feeling life to beempty?. .. Archelaus had bewailed the past before now, and the vanishedglories of the garrison, but never the tedium of his present lot. 

The Commandant, on re-entering his office, did a very unusual thing. Ithas been said that he could no longer afford himself tobacco. But anold briar pipe lay on the chimney-piece among a litter of notes andmemoranda that had escaped the afternoon's holocaust. He took it upwistfully, and, searching in a jar, at the end of the shelf, found afew crumbs of tobacco. Scraped together with care, they all but filledthe bowl. He lit the dry stuff from a spill--the last scrap of paper tobe sacrificed--and sank, puffing, into his worn arm-chair. 

It was in his mind to map out his domestic expenditure for the comingmonth; for the settlement with Mr. Tregaskis had made a desperateinroad upon his funds in hand, and he gravely doubted that even withthe severest pinching he would be able to remit the usual allowance tohis sister-in-law. The question had to be faced . .. He was not afraidof it . .. And yet his thoughts shirked it and wandered away, despiteall effort to rally them. "Old enough to be her father. .. . " He hadforeseen that these words would awake to torment him; but he was notprepared for the insistency with which the pain stirred, now when longtoil should have deadened it--now when, as the clock told him that hishopes for to-day were vain, he realised how fondly all the while he hadbeen building on them. 

"Old enough to be her father. "--For distraction from the maddeningrefrain he rose up, drew the guitar again from its box, unwrapped it, and took it back to his chair for another examination. He noticed thewrapper as he laid it aside. It was new; the material new, thestitching new. She had sent for the instrument with a purpose, and theoilskin case had been made with a purpose. .. . How went the old song?--

 "Were I but young for thee, as I haz been, We should have been gallopin' down in your green. And linkin' it owre the lily-white lea; And ah, gin I were but young for thee!"

Of a sudden he sat up stiffly, at the sound of a tap-tap on thewindow-pane behind him. 

Yes, decidedly the sound came from the window. The wind--as Archelaushad said--was rising; but this was no wind. Someone stood outside therein the darkness. He sprang up, stepped to the casement and threw itopen. For a moment his eyes distinguished nothing. He peered again anddrew back a little as a figure stepped close to the sill, out of thenight. 

"You!"

"Who else?" answered Vashti, with a little laugh. "Give me your hand, please. " He stretched it out obediently, and she took it and clamberedin over the sill. 

"It is cold outside, " she announced, looking around her with somethingbetween a shiver and a deliberate shake of her cloak. It was the samefurred cloak in which she had come ashore from the _Milo_. Spray clungto it; and there was spray, too, on her hair. It shone in thelamplight. 

"The wind has been getting up ever since sundown, " she announced. "Ihave had a pretty stiff crossing; but the boat is all right, under theKeg of Butter. " Then, as he still stared at her, "You don't keep toowarm a fire, my friend. "

"I had given you up, and was getting ready for bed. "

"Then you expected me? The guitar has come?"

Before he could answer she had caught sight of it, and picking it upfrom the arm-chair where the Commandant had dropped it, settled herselfand laid the instrument across her lap. 

"Also, " she went on, throwing back her cloak, while she examined andtightened the strings, "I will confess that your guest is hungry. " Shelooked up with a laugh. "In fact I came not only to fetch my guitar, but to sup with you and tell you of my doings. "

The Commandant turned to the door. His face had suddenly grown gray anddesperate. 

"Ah, yes--supper, to be sure!" he said, and strode from the room. 

As the latch fell behind him, Vashti glanced over her shoulder, put theguitar aside, and arose to stir the fire. The poker plunged into a heapof flaked ashes. "Paper? But the whole grate is choked with it. And, what is more, the whole room smells of burnt paper. "

She turned about, and, with her back to the hearth, surveyed the roomsuspiciously. Her gaze fell upon the waste-paper basket, heaped highand brimming over with torn documents. This puzzled her again, and herbrow contracted in a frown. But just then she caught the sound of theCommandant's footsteps returning along the flagged passage, and bentanew over the fire. 

The Commandant appeared in the doorway with a plate of ship's biscuitin his hand, and on his face a flush of extreme embarrassment. 

"Do you know, I really am ashamed of myself, " he began with a stammer, holding out the plate. "But Archelaus has gone to bed, and--and this isall I can find. "

"Capital!" she answered gaily. "Let us break into the back premises andforage. After my burglarious entry that will just suit my mood. "

"I'm afraid--" he began, and hesitated. "I am very much afraid--" Therewas unmistakable trouble in his voice, and again he came to a halt. 

Vashti straightened herself up. Her eyes were on him as he set theplate down on the table, but he avoided them, attempting a small forcedlaugh. The laugh was a dead failure. Silence followed it, and in thesilence he felt horribly aware that she was grasping the truth--thehumiliating truth; that moment by moment the scales were falling fromher eyes that still persistently sought his. 

The silence was broken by the noise of a poker falling against thefender. He started, met her gaze for a moment, and again averted his. 

"You don't mean to say----"

Her voice trailed off, in pitiful surmise. Silence again; and in thesilence he heard her sink back into the arm chair--and knew no moreuntil, at the sound of one strangling sob, terrible to hear, he foundhimself standing at the arm of her chair and bending over her. 

"My dear!" He used the familiar Island speech. "My dear, you mustnot--please!"

"And I have been living on you, ruining you!"

"My dear . .. It is all paid for. It was paid for to-day. If ever a manwas glad of his guest, I am he. "

But she bent her head over the arm of the chair, sobbing silently. Hesaw the heave of her shoulders, and it afflicted him beyond words. But, though he longed, he dared not put out a hand to comfort her. 

"You mistake--yes, you mistake. .. . It has been nothing. .. . I was onlytoo glad, " he kept stammering weakly. 

She pulled herself together and sat upright. A moment her tear-stainedeyes met his, then turned to the fire, which had begun to dance againon its small heap of coals. 

"Now I see, " said she, resting an elbow on the arm of the chair and sosupporting her chin, while she stared resolutely into the blaze. Shehad resumed command of her voice. "Ah, pardon me, now I understand manythings that puzzled me at first. .. . I--I am not a fool in moneymatters. " She hesitated. 

"I know you are not, " he assured her gently. "And that, if you willunderstand, increased the small difficulty. "

"Yes, I understand. But somehow--it was a long time since I had beenacquainted with--with----"

"Want, " he suggested. "Since you know the worst, do not hurt me morethan you are obliged. "

"God knows, " she said, after an interval of musing, "I would hurt youlast of all living men. Will you be kind to me, and trust me?"

"On conditions. "

"Yes?" She glanced up with a strange eagerness in her eyes. "Whatconditions?"

"That you do not pity me at all; that you believe I have sufferednothing, or only such pain as has edged the joy of serving you. "

She looked away and into the fire. "You make me very proud, " she said. "Yes. I can easily grant your conditions. I could not pity a man whopractised so noble a courtesy. "

The Commandant shook his head with a whimsical smile. "My dear, " heanswered, "it's undeniably pleasant to stand well in your opinion, butI am not used to compliments, and you run some risk of making me a vainfellow. You asked me to trust you. With what?"

"With the reason why you are poor. "

"That, " said he, "can be very simply told, " and, briefly, in thesimplest possible style, he told her of his brother's death, and howhis sister-in-law and her family had been left in destitution. "Yousee, " he wound up, "it's just an ordinary sad little tale. Cases ofthat kind happen daily, all the world over. One must be thankful whenthey happen within reach of help. "

"Is your sister-in-law thankful?" asked Vashti, sharply. "But there!"she added, as he stared at her obviously at a loss to find the questionrelevant. "You are quite right. It really does not matter two pinswhether she is thankful or not. " She turned her eyes to the fire againand sat musing. "But I am glad to have heard the story, " she went onafter a while. "It explains--oh, many things! I have been blind, inconsiderate; but I am seeing light at last. Do you know, my friend, that at first I found a great change in you?"

"Why--bless me!--you had only seen me once before in your life, andthen for two minutes!"

"Listen, please, and don't interrupt. I found a great change in you, and the reason of it seemed to lie all on the surface. You had broughtambitions to the Islands, but you had forgotten them. You kept yourkindness, your good nature, but you had forgotten all purpose in life. In all, except a few personal habits, you were neglecting yourself; andthis neglect came of your being content to live purposeless in thisforgotten hole, and draw your pay without asking questions. Forgive me, but I seemed to see all this, and it drove me half wild. "

He bowed his head. "I know it did, " he answered very slowly, "and thatis how you came to save me. "

"Is--is this another story?" she asked, after eyeing him a moment ortwo in bewilderment. 

"If you will listen to it. " He drew his writing chair over to thefireside, and then, facing her across the hearth he told her the secondstory as simply as he had told the first, but more nervously, leaningforward with his elbows on his knees, now and again spreading out hishands to the fire on which he kept his eyes bent during most of therecital. Vashti, too, leaned forward, intent on his face. One handgripped the arm of her chair--so tightly that its pressure drove theblood from the finger tips, while the wonder in her eyes changed tosomething like awe. "And so, " the commandant concluded, "the letter hasgone. I posted it to-day. "

"What will happen?"

"I really cannot tell. " Without lifting his gaze from the fire he shookhis head dubiously. "But at the worst, the girls are grown into womennow. They have been excellently well educated--their mother saw to thatand made a great point of it from the first--and by this time theyshould be able to help, if not support her entirely. "

"Man! Man! Will you drive me mad?"

Vashti sprang from the chair. 

"I have been unjust. I have been worse than a fool!" She flung back hercloak, and, clasping her hands behind her, man-fashion, fell to pacingthe room to and fro. The Commandant stood and stared. Something in hervoice puzzled him completely. In its tone, though she accused herself, there vibrated a low note of triumph. She was genuinelyremorseful--why, he could not guess. Yet, when she halted before him, he saw that her eyes were glad as well as dim. She held out a hand. 

"Forgive me, my friend!"

"Do you know, " stammered the Commandant, as he took it, "I shouldesteem it a favour to be told whether I am standing on my head or myheels!"

How long he held her hand he was never afterwards able to tell; for atits electric touch the room began to swim around him. But this couldnot have lasted for long; because, as he looked into her eyes, stillseeking an explanation, she broke off the half-hysterical laugh thatanswered him, and pulled her hand away sharply at a sound behind them. 

Someone was throwing gravel against the window. 

"Commandant!" a voice hailed from the darkness without. 

For an instant the two stood as if petrified. Then with a second glanceat the window, to make sure that the curtain was drawn, Vashti tip-toedswiftly to the door, catching up the guitar on her way. 

"Hi! Commandant! Are you waking or sleeping in there?"

The Commandant stepped to the curtain. Vashti opened the door andslipped out into the passage. The door closed upon her as he pulled thecurtain aside for a second time that night and opened the casement. 

"Who's there?"

"So you _are_ awake?" answered the voice of Mr. Rogers. "May I comein?" And, silence being apparently taken for consent, a foot and legfollowed the voice across the window-sill. 

CHAPTER XXI

SUSPICIONS

The foot and leg were followed by Mr. Rogers' entire person, and Mr. Rogers, having thus made good his entrance, stood blinking, with anapologetic laugh. "You'll excuse me--but I took it for granted the doorwas barred, and seeing a glimmer of light in the window here----"

"Anything wrong?" asked the Commandant. 

"Nothing's wrong, I hope"--Mr. Rogers stepped over to the warm fire. "But something's queer. " He fished out a pipe from the pocket of histhick pilot coat, filled it, lit up, and sank puffing into thearm-chair from which, a minute ago, Vashti had snatched up her guitar. "Hullo!" he exclaimed, as his eyes fell upon the empty packing-case. "You don't mean to tell me that you've been smuggling?"

The Commandant shook his head and laughed, albeit with some confusion. "The steamer brought it this morning. I assure you it held nothingcontraband. .. . But I hope that little game is not starting afresh inthe Islands? It gave us a deal of trouble in the old days; and therewas quite an outbreak of it, as I remember, some three or four yearsbefore you came to us. Old Penkivel"--this was Mr. Rogers'predecessor--"used to declare that it turned his hair gray. "

"He told me something beside, on the morning he sailed for themainland; which was that but for the help you gave him as Governor hecould never have grappled with it. Maybe this was sticking in my headjust now when I started to walk up here and consult you. "

"Well, and what is the matter?"

"Oh, a trifle. .. . Do you happen to know Tregarthen, the fellow thatfarms Saaron Island?"

The Commandant started. 

"Eli Tregarthen? Yes, certainly . .. That is to say, as I know prettywell everybody in the Islands. "

"What sort of a fellow?"

"Quiet; steady; works on his farm like a horse, week in and week out;never speaks out of his turn, and says little enough when his turncomes. "

"That sort is often the deepest, " observed Mr. Rogers sententiously, and puffed. "And Saaron Island there, close by the Roads, lies veryhandy for a little illicit work. "

"You are right, so far, " the Commandant admitted; "and history bearsyou out. In the old kelp-making days, when half-a-dozen families livedon it, Saaron gave more trouble than any two islands of its size. "

"It's none the less handy for being deserted. " Mr. Rogers drew out apenknife and meditatively loosened the tobacco in his pipe. 

"Handier. But you are wrong in suspecting Tregarthen; that is, unlessyou have good tangible evidence. "

"I don't say that it amounts to much, but it's tangible. In fact, hisboat is lying here, just now, close under the Keg of Butter. "

The Commandant turned on his heel and took a pace or two towards thewindow, to hide his perturbation and give himself time to consider. .. . Vashti's boat! And Vashti on the premises at this moment! What was tobe done? How on earth could he get her away?

"You discovered this yourself?" he found himself asking. 

"No; I happened to be in the Watch House with the chief boatmanchecking the store-sheets, when Beesley, whose watch it is, came in andreported. I see what you're driving at. Your own boat is lying underthe Keg of Butter, as everybody knows, and you suggest that I am dufferenough to mistake her in the darkness for a boat at least two-footlonger. "

Mr. Rogers laughed good-naturedly. 

"But the answer is, " he went on, "that Beesley found two boats lyingthere; and Beesley, who knows every craft in the Islands, swears thatthe one belongs to you no more certainly than the other to FarmerTregarthen. Moreover, she was moored on a shore line, and we pulled herin and examined her. Sure enough we found name and owner's name cut onher transom--'Two Sisters: E. Tregarthen. ' Now, what d'you make of it?"

"Very little, " answered the Commandant, recovering himself; "and thatlittle in all likelihood quite innocent. Someone, we'll say, wishes tocross over from Saaron to St. Lide's this evening--on any simpleerrand, say to fetch a parcel from the steamer. Why shouldn't thatsomeone, knowing the Keg of Butter to be good shelter with plenty ofwater at all tides, have landed and left the boat there?"

Mr. Rogers shook his head. "Why there, and not at the pier? The pierlies almost a mile nearer, and there's a fair wind--or almost a fairone--for returning; while from the Keg of Butter no one can fetchSaaron under a couple of tacks. That's my first point. Secondly, if EliTregarthen has honest business here, whether with the steamer to fetcha parcel (parcels must be running in your head to-night), or in thetown to fetch a doctor, the pier is obviously his landing-place. Why, there isn't a house in the Island, barring these Barracks, that doesn'tstand half-a-mile nearer the pier; not to mention that landing at theKeg of Butter involves a perfectly unnecessary climb up one side ofGarrison Hill and down the other. Lastly, my dear sir, look at thetime! Close on eleven o'clock, and all Garland Town in their beds. Again, I ask what honest business can Eli Tregarthen have here at suchan hour?"

The Commandant felt himself cornered. An insane hope crossed his mindthat, while the Lieutenant sat talking, Vashti had contrived to slipout of the house and down to the shore. It was followed by a saner one, that she had done nothing of the sort; for, to a certainty, the boatwould be guarded. 

"You have taken precautions?" he asked, and felt himself flushing atthe dishonesty of the question. 

"I have posted Beesley in charge, and sent the chief boatman off to thepier-head to keep a close watch on the steamer. She sails atseven-thirty to-morrow, and though I never heard a hint against herskipper, it's only right to be careful. I've amused myself before now, planning imaginary frauds on the revenue; and if anyone cares to riskopening up that game afresh, the Islands still give him a-plenty ofopenings. "

"Yes, yes, " agreed the Commandant, and checked a groan. He had thoughtof warning Vashti to slip down to the quay and borrow a boat therewithout asking leave. Some explanation might be trumped up on themorrow--as that the wind was foul for returning from the Keg of Butter. No one would accuse Eli Tregarthen of borrowing a boat with intent tosteal: his taking it would be no more than a neighbourly liberty. 

But, with the chief boatman watching the pier-head, she would bediscovered to a certainty. 

The Commandant's last hope was gone. 

Just as he realised this, to his utter astonishment, he heard the voiceof Archelaus grumbling outside in the passage. And Archelaus had goneto rest an hour ago!

"Pretty time of night this, to come breaking a man's rest!" growled thevoice of Archelaus, audibly, and not without viciousness, as though hemeant it to be heard. 

"Good Lord!" exclaimed Mr. Rogers. "You don't tell me we've roused theold fellow out of bed? And I reckoned I was making no more noise than amouse!"

"He may have heard you throw that gravel against the pane. " TheCommandant took a step towards the door, but halted irresolutely. 

"Then he's a light sleeper, " commented Mr. Rogers, "and an even moredilatory dresser. Why, good heavens!"--the Lieutenant started up fromhis chair--"he's undoing the bolts! Somebody's at the front door: oneof my men to report, I'll bet a fiver!"

He would have rushed out into the passage, but the Commandant caughthim by the arm. 

"No need to hurry, my friend! Whoever it is, Archelaus will bringword. "

Many hasty surmises whirled together in the Commandant's brain--thefirst, and hastiest, that Vashti, unable to make her escape, hadaroused Archelaus, and that Archelaus was unbarring the door for her onthe pretence of hearing a knock. Even so, she would be caught as soonas she reached the shore. Still, occasion might be snatched to sendArchelaus after her to warn her; she might hide for the night at theCastle under Mrs. Treacher's friendly wing. The instant need was tohold back the Lieutenant from discovering her in the passage, and tothe Lieutenant's arm our Commandant clung. 

"My good sir, " expostulated Mr. Rogers, "it _must_ be one of my men. Who else, at this hour?"

He fell back a step as the door opened. 

"A person to see you, sir; from Saaron!" announced Archelaus. "Shall Ishow her in?"

Before either could answer, Vashti herself stood on the threshold. 

Of the two men, the Lieutenant excusably showed the blankestastonishment. But the Commandant had to catch at the rail of a chair. Vashti had discarded her cloak of furs, and faced him now in such garbas is worn by the poorest in the Islands: a short gown of hodden gray, coarse-knitted stockings, and stout shoes. Across her shoulder, for a"turn-over, " she wore a faded shawl of Tartan pattern. (The Commandantrecognised it for a surplus one which Mrs. Treacher kept in theBarracks kitchen, to wear "against the draughts" on occasions when shehelped Archelaus with the cooking. ) But most wonderful of all was herhair. By some swift art the heavy coil had been drawn into two flatbands, brought low over the forehead, and carried back over the ears ina fashion almost slatternly. By no art could Vashti conceal that shewas beautiful. She was also too wise to attempt it. But, for the rest, she had transformed herself. 

"If you please, sir, " she began timidly, with an Island curtsey, andpaused as if uncertain, at sight of Mr. Rogers, whether to hold herground or to flee: "If you please, sir, I be that frightened!"

Accent, intonation--both were perfect, of the true Island speech, thatdelicate incommunicable sing-song. The Commandant's eyes grew rounderyet with amazement, and Vashti--afraid, perhaps, of meeting them--flunga glance of mock terror behind her, as though she had caught thefootfall of a pursuer. 

"But--but who in the world--" stammered Mr. Rogers. 

"If you please, gentlemen"--she turned, with another quick curtsey--"myname is Vazzy Cara, and I come from Saaron. I live there with mysister, Ruth, that is wife to Eli Tregarthen----"

Mr. Rogers gave a low whistle. 

"It's true, sir--true as I stand here! The Governor knows me, and willbear me out--won't you, sir?. .. A terrible way from Saaron it is, andat this hour of night. .. . But ask the Governor, sir, and he'll tell youI am a respectable woman; sister to Mrs. Tregarthen, and lives with herto look after the children. "

"Yes, yes, " interrupted the Lieutenant, losing patience. "But thequestion is, how you came here, and why?"

Vashti stood panting. By the heave of her bosom it was plain to seethat either her fears still possessed her or that she had been runningfor dear life, and must catch breath. Her hand went up to her bodice. 

"I came, sir, to see the Governor--all the way across from Saaron. Eli--that's my sister's husband--is in terrible trouble over there, because the Lord Proprietor means to turn him off his farm. Yes, say!"--she drew a letter from her bodice, and went on with risingvoice. "Turn us out he will, though the Tregarthens have lived on theIsland ever since Saaron was Saaron. The Governor, here, in his timewould never have done such wickedness, nor suffered it, being a justgentleman and merciful, as all the folk can bear witness. And so, thinks I, he may be able to help us yet; and if able he will bewilling. "

She held out the letter towards the Commandant, who took it and turnedit over vaguely between his fingers, not opening it, nor daring to meether eyes. 

"And so, " continued Mr. Rogers, "you took your brother-in-law'sboat--without his knowledge----"

Vashti nodded. "Yes, sir; I took it unbeknowns. He's a very quiet man, is my sister's husband, and don't like it that other folks, 'speciallywomen, should mix themselves up in his affairs. "

"Then he's a sensible fellow as well as a quiet one. "

"Yes, sir. " Vashti took the correction meekly, with downcast look. 

"And still less, I'll bet, " Mr. Rogers continued, "would he be pleasedto know that one of his woman-kind was straying across to St. Lide's atthis hour of the night. "

"Oh, sir, " she caught him up, "but that's where I've been hindered!For, wishing to have word with the Governor, and no one the wiser, Ibrought the boat to shore down yonder, under the Keg of Butter, andthere the coastguards have found it, and are waiting by it to catch me, and what answer to give them I can't think, nor how to account formyself. Seemin' to me they're everywhere, and all around me in thedarkness!"

Mr. Rogers broke into a laugh. "It appears, Commandant, that I havefound a mare's nest; always supposing that this tale is a true one. You'll excuse me, ma'am, but service is service. "

The Commandant had turned to his writing-table, and was holding theletter under the lamplight. 

"I can go bail for Miss Cara, " he answered, but without looking up. "Undoubtedly she comes from Saaron, and is Mrs. Tregarthen's sister. Also this letter, though we cannot deal with it to-night, is addressedto Eli Tregarthen in the Lord Proprietor's handwriting. It gives himformal notice to quit and deliver up his farm. I can give no hope ofhelp--no hope at all. " Here his voice trembled slightly. "The most Ican promise is to consider it. "

"And the best we can do for the moment is to escort Miss Cara down toher boat and get one of my men to sail her back to her island. "

"I incline to think, " said the Commandant, after a pause, "that MissCara--from what I have seen of her skill--is competent to sail backalone. If not, I would suggest that you or I escort her, towing my boatacross for the return journey. In any case, if we can get your men outof the way, it would be wiser, perhaps, for her sake. "

"And for mine, begad!" agreed the Lieutenant! "Else I shall have everyman of them grinning behind my back for a month of Sundays. 'Rogers'smuggling-chase'--I can hear the villains chuckling over it. .. . But Isay, though"--he turned on Vashti admiringly--"you'll want an escortacross, eh? You don't tell me you're man enough to handle that boatalone?"

"If you please, sir. "

"The Channel's none too easy on a dark night. "

Vashti smiled. "My father taught it to me, sir, before I was ten yearsold. I could sail it blindfold. "

"And you have the nerve?. .. And yet just now, the dark frightened you, and you ran for your life!"

"No, " said Vashti, demurely, "I just stood still. "

"Well, come along! And when you get to the Battery, you'll have tostand still again, and wait until I report the coast clear. Commandant, will you give Miss Cara your arm, while I run ahead. "

They stepped out together into the night. Vashti neither took theCommandant's arm nor spoke to him, even after Mr. Rogers had passedahead out of earshot. Only when the pair had reached the dark battery, and were waiting there on the dark platform above the sea, she turnedto him and asked--

"Shall you be busy to-morrow?"

"I am never busy. "

"I have left my cloak and the guitar with Archelaus. "

"I will bring them to Saaron to-morrow. "

She turned away and leaned over the low parapet to the left. Some waybelow a footfall sounded, on the track leading to the watch-house---thefootfall of Beesley. A stone, dislodged by his tread, trickled and fellover the cliff into night. 

 * * * * *

"Curious!" remarked Mr. Rogers, confidentially, to the Commandant, twenty minutes later, as they stood and peered into the darkness afterVashti's boat. "Here I am, stuck on these Islands (so to speak) with atelescope held to my eye. Of the folk upon 'em I see next to nothing. Now, I don't know if you took note of it, but that's a remarkablelooking woman; a remarkably handsome woman; and I've spent these yearshere without guessing that such a woman existed hereabouts. Eh?" Mr. Rogers relapsed into mild facetiousness. "If you were a younger man, Commandant, I could hatch up a pretty story out of to-night'sdoings--and if I didn't mind a laugh against myself. "

CHAPTER XXII

PIPER'S HOLE

Annet, Linnet, and Matthew Henry sat side by side on the granite rollerby the gate and watched their friend Jan eat his mid-morning snack--or"mungey, " as it is called in the Islands. It consisted, as a rule, of acrust of bread, but Jan had supplemented it to-day with a turnip, whichhe cut into slices with his pocket-knife. He had been pulling turnipssince six o'clock. "And I reckon this'll be the last time of askin', "he commented, letting his eyes wander over the field as he seatedhimself on a shaft of the cart, which had been brought to await theloading. 

The children knew that they would soon be quitting Saaron, and that theprospect distressed their father and mother. They had discussed it, andagreed together that it was a great shame to be turned out of theirhome, and that the Lord Proprietor must be a hard-hearted tyrant; butsecretly they looked forward to the change with a good deal ofexcitement, not being of an age to fathom the troubles of grown-upfolk. After all, Brefar lay close at hand and was familiar. Brefar waspopulous, and across there they would find many playmates. Brefar, too, held out great promise of adventure after sea-birds' eggs andexpeditions of discovery; and if ever the home-sickness came upon themthey would cross the sands at low-water and revisit the old haunts andthe deserted house. All these consolations, however, they kept tothemselves. It would never do to abandon the family grievance merelybecause it presented a bright side. They felt, as older folks have beenknown to feel, that a sense of injury carries with it a sense ofimportance. 

"I wonder, " said Linnet, severely, "that you can have the heart to talkabout it, Jan. "

"Jan has no feelings about leaving Saaron, " said Annet, more in sorrowthan in anger. "Why should he--coming from the mainland?"

"But Jan was born on the Islands, " Matthew Henry objected; "and thatwill be a long time ago. "

"Silly! As if you could belong to the Islands by being born here! Why, to belong to them, your father and mother must have been Islanders, andyour grandfathers and grandmothers, and right back into the greats andgreat-greats. And then you never want to go away or live anywhere elsein the world. "

Matthew Henry pursed up his small mouth dubiously. He himself hadsometimes wished to live in the wilds of America, or on a South SeaIsland; even to visit Australia and have a try at walking upside down. There must be a flaw in Annet's argument somewhere. 

"But if Jan comes from the mainland--" he began. 

"Cornwall, " said Jan, tranquilly, his mouth full of raw turnip. 

"Then you ought to want to go back to it. "

"I mean to, one of these fine days. "

"I shouldn't put it off too long, if I were you, " advised Linnet, candidly. "You're getting up in years, and the next thing you'll bedead. "

"But didn't your father ever want to go back?" asked Matthew Henry, sticking to his point. 

"No fear. "

"Why?"

"Because, if he'd showed his face back in Cornwall, they'd have hangedhim; that's all. "

"Oh!" exclaimed the three, almost simultaneously, and sat for a momentor two gazing on Jan in awed silence. 

"But why should they want to hang your father?" asked Annet. 

Jan sliced his bread with an air of noble indifference. "Eh? Why, indeed? He used to say 'twas for being too frolicsome. He never done nowrong--not what you might call wrong: or so he maintained, an' 'twasn'tfor me to disbelieve 'en. Was it, now?"

"You'll tell us about it, Jan dear?" coaxed Annet. 

"There's no particular story in it. " (The children put this aside; itwas Jan's formula for starting a tale. ) "My father, in his young days, lived at a place in Cornwall called Luxulyan, and arned his wages as atinner at a stream-work----"

"What is a stream-work?" asked Matthew Henry. 

"A stream-work is a moor beside a river, where the mud is full of ore, washed down from the country above--sometimes from the old mines. Thestreamers dig this mud up and wash it through sieves, and so they getthe tin. There was enough of it, my father said, in Luxulyan Couse tokeep a captain and twelve men in good wages and pay for a feast once ayear at the Rising Sun Public House. The supper took place some time inthe week before Christmas, and they called it Pie-crust Night, though Ican't tell you why. Well, one Pie-crust Night, after this yearlysupper--the most enjoyable he had ever known--my father left the RisingSun towards midnight, and started to walk to his home in LuxulyanChurchtown. He had a fair dollop of beer inside of him, but nothing (ashe ever maintained), to excuse what followed, and he got so far asTregarden Down without accident. Now, this Tregarden Down, as he alwaysdescribed it to me, is a lonesome place given over to brackenfern andstrewn about with great granite boulders, and on one of these bouldersmy father sat down, because the night was clear and a fancy had comeinto his head to count the stars. He sat there staring up and countingtill he reached twenty score, and with that he felt he was getting acrick in the back of his neck, and brought his eyes down to earthagain. It seemed to him that, even in the dark, a change had come overthe down since he'd been sittin' there, and the whole lie of the groundhad a furrin look. Hows'ever, he hadn't much time to puzzle about this, for lo and behold! as he stared about him, what should he see under thelew of the next rock but a party of little people, none of 'em morethan a thumb high, dancing in a ring upon the turf! They broke off andlaughed as soon as my father caught sight of 'em; and, says one littlewhipper-snapper, stepping forward and pulling off his cap with a bow, 'Good evening, my man!' 'Sir to you!' says my father. 'There's a goodliquor at the Rising Sun, ' says the little man. 'None better, ' says myfather. 'I know by a deal better, ' says the little man. 'Would you liketo taste it?' 'Would I not?' says my father. 'Well, then, ' says thelittle man, 'there's a shipfull of wine gone ashore early this night onPar Sands, and maybe the Par folk haven't had time yet to clear thecargo. What d'ee say to _Ho! and away for Par Beach!_ Eh?' 'With allthe pleasure in life, ' says my father, thinkin' it a joke; so '_Ho! andaway for Par Beach!_' he calls out, mimicking the little man. The wordsweren't scarcely out of his mouth before a wind seemed to catch him up, though gently, from his seat on the boulder, and in two twinklings hewas standin' on Par Sands. There was a strong sea running, and outbeyond the edge of the tide my father spied a ship breaking up. But ifshe broke up fast, her cargo was meltin' faster, for a whole crowd offolk had gathered on the sands, and were rolling the casks of wine upfrom the water and carting them away for dear life. My father and thelittle people couldn't much as ever lay hands on a solitary one, and, what was worse they hadn't but fairly broached it before a cry went upthat the Preventive men were coming. Sure enough, my father, prickingup his ears, could hear horses gallopin' down along the road above thesands. 'Dear, dear!' says the little man, 'this is a most annoyin'thing to happen! But luckily I know a place where there's better liquorstill, and no risk of bein' interrupted. So _Ho! and away for SquireTremayne's cellar!_'

"'_Ho! and away for Squire Tremayne's cellar!_' called out my father;and the next thing he knew he found himself in the cellar of SquireTremayne's great house at Heligan, knocking around with the smallpeople among casks of wine and barrels of beer galore. To do himjustice, he never pretended he didn't make use of the occasion. Infact, he fuddled himself so that when the little gentleman called out'_Ho! and away!_ for the next randivoo' (whatever that might ha' been), he missed to take up the catchword, bein' asleep belike. So there thepiskies left him asleep, with his head in a waste saucer and his mouthunder the drip of a spigot; and there the butler found him the nextmorning, knocking his shins among the butts and barrels in thedarkness, and calling out to know what the dickens had taken TregardenDown and the rocks o't, that they grew so pesky close together. Thebutler haled him upstairs to the Squire, and the Squire heard hisstory, and not only said he didn't believe a word o't, but (bein' amagistrate) packed him off to Bodmin Jail for burglary. I don't blamethe man altogether, " said Jan, reflectively; "for, come to think of it, my father's account of himself lay a bit off the ordinary run, andbelike he wasn't in any condition to put it clearly. 

"At any rate, to jail he went, and from jail he was delivered up to theJudges at Assize, and the Judges sentenced my poor father to death, which was the punishment for burglary in those times, and, for all Iknow, it may be the same on the mainland to this day. 

"The morning came when he was to be put out of the world; and, as Ineedn't tell you, it gathered a great crowd together, to have a look atthe last of a man that had so little sense of wickedness as to takeliberties with a gentleman's wine and spirits. There my poor fatherstood under the gallows-tree with none to befriend 'en, when all of asudden he heard a shouting up the street, and down along it, throughthe crowd, came a strange little lady, holding up her hand and a paperin it. The folk opened way respectful-like, seein' by the better-mostair of her that she belonged to one of the gentry, and along she cameto the scaffold. 'Good mornin', ma'am, and what can I do for you?' saysthe Sheriff, steppin' forward, with a lift of his hat. He held out ahand for the paper; but the little lady turns to my father, and pipesout in a little voice, very clear and sweet, '_Ho! and away for theIslands!_' Glad enough was my father to hear the sound of it. '_Ho! andaway for the Islands!_' he answers, pat; and in two twinks he and thelittle lady were off in the sky like a puff of smoke, and the crowdleft miles below. The next thing he knew he was sittin' on a rock, overyonder in Inniscaw, by the mouth of Piper's Hole, and starin' at thesea. So he picks himself together and walks up to North Inniscaw Farm(as 'twas called in those days), and there he took service and marriedand lived steady ever after. Leastways----"

"Leastways, " said a voice at the gate, "he gave over drinking exceptwhen his master ran a cargo of brandy, and he never gave his wifetrouble but once, when he took home a mermaid and made the good souljealous. "

"Aunt Vazzy!" cried the children. "Why, how long have you been standin'there?"

"Long enough to hear the end of the story, and how Jan's father came tothe Islands through Piper's Hole. "

"But, " Linnet objected, "Jan didn't say that his father came throughPiper's Hole; only that he found himself on the rocks in front of it. They came through the air, he and the little lady, didn't they, Jan?"

Jan shook his head. "They started to come through the air, " he answeredcautiously. 

"Everybody knows that the fairies always pass to and fro throughPiper's Hole, " said Annet, in a positive voice. "The mermaids, too. Thecave there goes right through Inniscaw and under the sea, and comes upagain in the mainland. Nobody living has ever gone that way; but FarmerSanto had an uncle once that owned a sheep-dog that wandered intoPiper's Hole and was lost, and a month later it turned up on themainland with all its hair off. "

"It do go in a terrible long way, to be sure, " Jan admitted; "for Imade a trial of it myself, one time, at low water. First of all youcome to a pool, and, then, about fifty yards further, to another pool, and into that I went plump, coming upon it sudden, in the darkness. Iswallowed a bellyful of it, too, and the water--if you'll believeme--was quite fresh. I didn't try no further, because, in the firstplace, the tide was rising, and because, when I pulled myself out, Iheard a sound on t'other side of the pool like as if some creature wasbreathin' hard there in the darkness. It properly raised my hair, and Iturned tail. "

"Fie, Jan! Ran away from a mermaid!" said Vashti, laughing. "You shouldhave brought her home and married her. "

"I don't want to marry no woman with a tail like a fish, nor no womanthat makes thikky noise with her breathin', " maintained Jan. "That's tosay, if merrymaid it were, which I doubts. But you're wrong about myfather, Miss Vazzy. He see'd a merrymaid sure 'nough; but he never tookher home. No, he was too much of a gentleman, besides bein' afeard o'my mother. If you want the story, he was down in Piper's Hole one daywarping ashore some few kegs of brandy that had been sunk thereaboutsby a Rosco trader. Mr. Pope's father, that was agent to th' old Duke, used to employ my father regular on this business, knowing him for asilent man, and one to be trusted; and my father had made a very prettycatchet some way back-along in the cave, big enough to hold two scoreof kegs, and well above reach of the sea-water. But, o' course, whilehe was at this kind of work, Mr. Pope had to wink an eye now and thenif one o' the kegs leaked a bit. Well, my father had finished his jobthat day in a sweatin' hurry, the tide bein' nearabouts on the top ofthe flood, and at the end, all the kegs bein' stowed, he spiled one'for the good of the house, ' as he put it, and drew off a tot in a tinpanikin he kept handy. With this and his pipe he settled himself down'pon a dry ledge and waited for the tide to run back. 

"Out beyond the mouth of the hole he could see a patch of blue sky, andthe little waves under it glancin' in the sunshine; and belike thedazzle of it, or else the tot of brandy, made him feel drowsy-like. Anyhow, he woke up to see that the tide had run out a bravish lot, leavin' the sands high and dry. But, as you know, there's a pool o'water close inside the entrance, and what should my father see in thepool but a woman's head and shoulders!

"She had raised herself out of the water with her hands restin' on aslab of rock, and over the rock she stared at my father, like as if shewanted help, and again like as if she felt too timid to ask. And when Icalled her a woman I said wrong; for she was more like a child, and afrightened one, with terrible pretty eyes, and her long hair shed downover her shoulders, drippin' wet, and in colour between gold andsea-green. 'Hullo!' said my father, 'and who might you be, makin' sobold?' At the sound of his speech she gave a little scritch at first, and bobbed down face-under, so that her hair lay afloat and spreaditself all over the water like sea-weed. My father walked up closer. 'Nonsense, my dear, ' says he, in his coaxin' voice, 'there's nothin' tobe afeard of. I'm a respectable married man, and old enough to be yourfather. So put up your face--come now!--and tell me all about it. 'After a bit she lifted her face, very pitiful, and says she in a smallvoice, 'I was afeard you had been drinkin', sir. ' 'A little--a verylittle, ' answers my father; 'we'll say no more about it. ' 'And I wasafeard, ' says she, 'you would want to carry me home and marry meagainst my will!' 'Lord, ' says my father, 'trust a woman for puttingnotions into a man's head. No, no, my dear; I can get all thetemperance talk I want without committin' bigamy for it. ' 'An' youcouldn' marry me, ' says the merrymaid, with a kind o' sob, 'because I'mmarried already, an' the mother of two as pretty children as ever youwished to see. I can hear 'em callin' for me, ' she said, 'down there, beyond the bar, ' and she went on to tell him (but the tale was allmixed up with sobbin') how she and the children had been swimmin' alongshore that afternoon, and liftin' their heads above water to glimpsethe sea-pinks and catch a smell of the thyme on the cliffs; and how shehad left 'em to play while she swam into the cave to sit for a whileand comb out her pretty hair. But the tide had run back while she wasbusy, and she couldn't crawl back to the sea over the bar, because ondry sand all her strength left her. 'And if I wait for the flood, ' shesaid, 'my husband'll half murder me; for he's jealous as fire. '

"My father listened, and, sure enough, he seemed to hear the children'svoices callin' to her out beyond the water's edge. With that, bein'always a tender-hearted man, he knelt down and lifted her out o' thepool. Now, if he'd had more sense at the time he'd have struck abargain with her; for the merrymaids, they say, can tell where gold ishidden, and charm a man against sickness, and make all his wishes cometrue. But in the tenderness of his heart he thought 'pon none o' thesethings. He just let her put her arms round his neck, and lifted herover the sands, and waded out with her, till he stood three feet deepin water in his sea-boots; and then she gave him a kiss and slid awaywith a flip of her tail. 'Twas only when he stood staring that itcrossed his mind what a fool he had been and what a chance he hadmissed. Then he remembered that she had dropped her comb by the edge ofthe pool--he had heard it fall when he lifted her, and back he went tosearch for it: for the sayin' is that with a merrymaid's comb you cancomb out your hair in handfuls of guineas. But all he found was abroken bit of shark's jaw, and though he combed for half-an-hour andwished for all kind o' good luck, not a farthin' could he fetch out. "

"Is that all?" asked Matthew Henry, as Jan arose from the cart-shaft, dusting the crumbs of bread from his breeches. 

"It's enough, I should think, " said Linnet, the sceptical, "seeing thatit's nothing but a story from beginning to end. "

Vashti looked from one child to the other with a twinkle of fun. "Wewill pay Piper's Hole a visit one of these days, " she promised, "andperhaps Linnet will see a real mermaid and be convinced. "

"I don't care for mermaids, " announced Matthew Henry. "It's the cave Iwant to explore, to see if it really does lead through to the mainland. And I won't be afraid, like Jan here, and run away from a littlenoise. "

"You wait till you get there before you boast, " advised Linnet. 

But Vashti's eyes, resting on the boy, grew tender of a sudden. "Theway through to the mainland?" she said, musingly. "Matthew Henry isright. It all depends on the heart that tries it; but there is nothingcan do him harm if he keeps up his courage; and the end of the road isworth all the journey, for a man. "

"Why, Aunt Vazzy, you talk as if you had been there!" cried Annet. 

"And so I have, my dear; there and back again. "

The three children stared at her. "Aunt Vazzy is joking, " said Linnet, severely. Annet was not too sure, and her brow puckered with a frown asshe searched for the meaning beneath her aunt's words. But MatthewHenry believed them literally. 

"Then, " he exclaimed joyfully, "it's all nonsense about Farmer Santo'suncle's sheep-dog. For Aunt Vazzy has beautiful hair!"

CHAPTER XXIII

THE LORD PROPRIETOR HEARS A SIREN SING

 _Sir, --In answer to your letter of the 19th ultimo, I am directed by the Secretary of State for War to say that a Commission, the composition of which is not finally determined, will shortly be visiting the Islands, with a view to reporting on the adaptability of their existing military works for Coast Defence. Notice of the probable date of this visit shall be sent to you, and the Commissioners will doubtless be glad to avail themselves of any information you may be good enough to put at their disposal. At the same time, there will be given an opportunity of inquiring into the allegations contained in your letter. The Commission will be presided over by Maj. -General Sir Ommaney Ward, K. C. B. , R. E. , H. M. Director of Fortifications. --I am, sir, _

 _Your obedient servant, _

 J. FLEETWOOD CUNNINGHAM. 

Thrice a week--on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays--the steamerarrived at St. Lide's Quay, bringing the mainland mail, and the LordProprietor's post-bag usually reached him soon after luncheon. Itcarried, as a rule, a bulky correspondence, and since the steamerweighed anchor early next morning, the Lord Proprietor set aside theearly part of these three afternoons to letter-writing. 

The passage had been smooth to-day, and the bag had been delivered tohim and opened as he took his solitary meal. Also the mail for thegreat house was a light one, and out of it the Lord Proprietor, catching sight of the official stamp on the envelope, had at onceselected the letter quoted above. He perused it, and re-perused it, tothe neglect of the rest of his correspondence, tilting it against abowl of Michaelmas daisies in front of his plate. 

It was satisfactory, he decided--that is to say, on the whole, and sofar as it went. He foresaw that short shrift would be given to thoseidlers on Garrison Hill. On the other hand, he frowned at theprospect--call it the chance, rather--of seeing that establishmentreplaced by one more efficient. To be sure, if the necessities of CoastDefence demanded it. .. . Still, for his part, he would have preferred tobe let alone. The Islands, with their many outlying reefs and pooranchorage could never afford room to such battleships as were built inthese days; and to erect new fortifications to cover a roadstead thatwould seldom if ever be used appeared the plainest waste of publicmoney. .. . He really thought that the War Office might have consultedhim before coolly proposing to plant a new garrison above St. Lide's. He was not even sure they had a right, without his consent. .. . He wouldconfer with Mr. Pope on this point. At the very least, it would havebeen courteous to start by asking his opinion; for, after all, he ownedthe Islands. He was responsible, too, for the general good conduct ofthe population; good conduct which the advent of a body of soldierywould certainly affect--nay, might entirely upset. 

Nevertheless, he reflected that--however the Commissioners might decide(and he would take care to press his opinion energetically)--his letterto the Secretary of State for War had at least done no harm. TheCommissioner's visit had obviously been projected before the receipt ofit, and at the worst it would enable him to call quits with Vigoureux. 

He reflected further that these roving Commissions to report were oftenno index of Government policy, but were simply appointed to shelve, while professing to consider a question which the Government foundawkward. 

So, luncheon over, he sat down and wrote a letter thanking theSecretary for his communication, and very politely offering to do allin his power to make the Commissioners' visit "to theseout-of-the-world Islands" a pleasant one. 

Having copied the letter and read it over with no little approval, theLord Proprietor dealt briefly with the rest of his correspondence;consulted his pocket-diary, looked at his watch, and, finding that hehad an hour to spare before granting an interview to Eli Tregarthen, stepped out upon the terrace, where Abe Jenkins was cutting back thegeraniums that had well-nigh ceased to flower. 

"But is it necessary?" asked the Lord Proprietor. "Here, in the verymouth of the Gulf Stream . .. And last winter we escaped with nothingworse than two degrees of frost. "

"Last winter and this winter be two different things, sir, " protestedAbe, gently but firmly. "Last winter, sir--as you may have takennotice--we had next to no berries 'pon the holly; and no seals, nor yetno mermaids. "

"Seals? Mermaids?" Sir Cęsar echoed. 

"Which I've always heard it said, sir, " Old Abe went on, with the airof one carefully, even elaborately, deferring to superior ignorance, "as how than seals you can have no surer sign of hard weather. Ofmermaids I says nothing, except that with such-like creatures about youmay count 'pon something out of the common. "

"Since, " said the Lord Proprietor, "there are no such things asmermaids, we will confine ourselves to seals. .. . I had no idea thatseals--er--frequented our shores. "

"No more they don't, unless summat extr'ord'ny has taken the weather. But I've heard tell of a season when, for weeks together, you couldcount up two or three score together baskin' on the beaches to thenorth of the Island here. Sam Leggo can tell you all about it"--Abejerked a thumb in the direction of North Inniscaw Farm. "He and hisfather used to hunt them, one time, along with Phil Cara of St. Hugh's. You know where the old adit goes into the cliff under Carn Coppa? Well, they tell me that if you follow the adit for fifty yards you come to akind of pit that breaks straight down and through the roof of acave--Ogo Vean, they call it--to the west of Piper's Hole, and thiscave fairly swarmed with seals. The three men would lower themselves byrope-ladders--I reckon old Leggo had learnt the trick of it in by-gonedays when the Free-traders used the adit--and get down upon a strip offirm shingle at the inner end of the cave; and there Sam Leggo wouldhold the lantern while his father and Phil Cara blazed away. They nevershot more than a brace at a time, because of the difficulty of gettingthe bodies up the ladder, for they had to be gone before high-water, and likewise there was always a danger that the seals might charge 'emin a herd, bein' angered by the loss of their mates. In this way theypretty well cleared out the cave--all but one great beauty that oldLeggo had sworn to take alive. For, instead of bein' yellow ormotley-brown like the rest, this fellow was white as milk all over, besides bein' powerful as any other two. He seemed to know from thefirst that the three men didn't mean to shoot him. The lanterns and thefiring never hurried him a bit, and he never threw himself into a rageover the loss of his relations. He just kept out of reach, looking likeas if he despised the whole business, and refused to quit. He wascautious, too; wouldn't trust the cave in weather when a boat couldfollow him and block up the entrance. On fine nights he had a favouriterock just outside Ogo Vean--you can see it from the top of thecliff--and there he'd lie asleep and dare 'em; out of reach, but plainenough to see, even in the dark, because of his white skin. 

"Now, as you may have taken notice, sir, the tide runs out dry to thisrock on the inshore side; but seaward it goes down, even at lowsprings, into more'n three fathoms of water, and my gentleman alwaystook his forty winks on the seaward slope. Half-a-dozen times did PhilCara, thinkin' to catch him----"

"I beg your pardon, " interrupted Sir Cęsar, "'Cara, ' did you say?"

"Yes, sir; Philip Cara, father to Eli Tregarthen's wife over to Saaron;and likewise, o' course, to Eli Tregarthen's wife's sister, that islodging at Saaron Farm, having come home from service a while back. "

"Eh? From service?" the Lord Proprietor echoed, with quickenedinterest. "What sort of service?"

"Why, as to that, sir, I can't say that I can tell you for certain; butit's somewheres on the mainland, and the young woman seems a veryrespectable young woman. But whether she means to bide wi' the familyor has come to lodge while lookin' out for another place, I can'tcertainly say--the Tregarthens bein' a close-tongued lot, as you know. "

"A lady's-maid?" hazarded the Lord Proprietor. 

"May be. Well, as I was tellin' you, half-a-dozen times did Phil Cara, bidin' his time till the tide was low and the sand hard----"

"But it's impossible, " said the Lord Proprietor, pursuing his own trainof thought. 

Abe regarded his master rather in sorrow than in anger. "To be sure, sir, " said he, in a tone of delicate rebuke, "if you don't want to hearmy story----"

"Eh? Yes, certainly, my wits were wool-gathering, Abe, and I beg yourpardon. Let me see. .. . You were saying that Cara used to wait till thetide was low----"

"Yes, sir. He'd creep along the sand, he and the two Leggos, and th'old seal would lie there sleepin', innocent as a child, and let themcome close under the rock, and even climb it. But soon as ever theymade a pounce--c'lk!--he rolled off the slope and into deep water. Regular as clockwork it happened; quiet and easy as a door on a greasedhinge; and every time it made the three look foolisher and foolisher. 

"After half-a-dozen tries, Cara allowed that he couldn' go on bein'mocked by a dumb animal; so he set his brain to work, and thought out anew plan. The two Leggos were to take a boat and drop down wi' the tideclose in the shadow of the rock 'pon the seaward side, while Carahimself crept, as usual, hands-an'-knees, across the beach. So theyplanned, an' so they did; and sure enough when Cara made a pounce forthe seal, my gentleman rolled down the ledge and slap into the boat!'Now you've got 'en!' yells Cara. 'Darn it all!' yells back old Leggofrom the scuffle, 'Seems more like he's got WE!' For that seal, sir, fought like ten tom-cats; and before the Leggos got in a lucky strokeand knocked him silly with a stretcher he'd ripped one leg off th' oldman's trousers and bitten the heel clean off Sam's right boot. Theytook him home and skinned him, and sold the skin that same year to aDutch skipper for thirty shillin'. But Sam has told me more than twicethat he don't mean to tempt Providence again by catchin' any moreseals. "

The Lord Proprietor looked at his watch. "I must get Leggo to show methat adit this very afternoon. I've an appointment at three-thirty tomeet him and Tregarthen at the farm. "

"Indeed, sir? Then you've brought Eli Tregarthen to his senses?--if Imay make so bold. "

The Lord Proprietor flushed, remembering that Abe had witnessed theinterview in the walled garden. "I fancy the man has begun to see thered light, " he answered, carelessly. "At any rate, he has consented tomeet me and take a look over North Inniscaw. "

"Well, " said Abe, "you'll find him a good farmer; none better. "

"And he'll find me a landlord, willing to let bygones be bygones. Bythe way, " added Sir Cęsar, yet more carelessly, "I am curious to knowif I met that sister-in-law of his the other day?--a decidedly handsomewoman, and strikingly well dressed. In fact, I should say she boughther clothes in Paris. "

Abe stared, as though his master had suddenly taken leave of hissenses. 

"I never been to Paris, " he said, slowly. "When I seen her last she wasnettin' sand-eels, with her legs bare to the knee. "

 * * * * *

Sir Cęsar walked indoors to fetch his hat and his gun. Though he rarelyused it, he invariably carried a gun under his arm in his walks aboutthe Islands. It helped his sense of being monarch of all he surveyed. 

That sense was strong in him as he took the path which led across themiddle of the Island to North Inniscaw Farm. St. Lide's lay directlybehind him, to the south, and thus no Garrison Hill obtruded upon hisview to remind him of annoyances. The sea shone, the air was pure, thewhole seascape flashed white upon blue--white gulls wheeling aloft, white breasts of puffins congregated on the smaller islets, white capsof tiny waves where the breeze met the tide-race, on North Island thewhite shaft of a lighthouse fronting the almost level sun. With a touchof imagination the scene had become a prospect of the Cyclades, thelighthouse a column to Aphrodite or the twin brothers of Helen. But theLord Proprietor was a Briton. He halted on the hill-side to inhale thevigorous breeze, and his heart rejoiced that all he saw belonged tohim. 

The path descended a stony hillside, crossed a marshy green hollow, andmounted a second stony hill. Over the summit of it the low roofs of aline of farm-buildings hove into sight. This was North Inniscaw; andthe Lord Proprietor, arriving punctually at three-thirty, found EliTregarthen at the gate in converse with Sam Leggo, the hind intemporary charge of the farm. 

If Eli had begun to see reason, his face held out no promise of it. Itwas dark and gloomy; a trifle weary, too, as though he kept thisappointment rather through politeness than with any care for itsoutcome. He saluted the Lord Proprietor respectfully, but at once benthis eyes to the ground. 

"Good afternoon! Good afternoon, Tregarthen!" Sir Cęsar began, in hisheartiest voice, to show that he bore no malice. "I like punctuality, and those who practise it. Punctuality, if I may say so, is not awide-spread virtue in these Islands. Shall we go round and take stock?"

"If it will give you satisfaction, sir, " assented Eli. 

Sir Cęsar led the way, pausing at every gate to discuss the soil, thecrop, the present price of oats, barley, roots of beef and mutton;drainage and top-dressing; aspect and shelter; a hundred odds and ends. He talked uncommonly good sense, too, as Eli confessed to himself. TheLord Proprietor had taken up with agriculture late in life, but hebrought to it a trained and thoroughly practical mind. Once or twice hesubmitted a point to Sam Leggo, who had worked all his life on thisvery farm, and Eli was forced to admire the pertinence of his questionsand cross-questions. 

He talked with great good humour, too, although Eli gave it smallencouragement. The shadow of leaving Saaron had hung over Eli's mindfor more than two months; heavy, oppressive, but until this morningintangible as a cloud. Vashti had remarked that the days deadened himwhile they should have been nerving him to action; and Vashti, thisvery morning, had forced his eyes open by asking, in a business-likeway, if he had ever thought of emigrating to the mainland. Were it notwiser, since the wrench must come, to make it complete?--to go whereregret would not be kept aching by the daily sight of Saaron? Thechildren would find better schools on the mainland, and it was hightime to be thinking of Matthew Henry, who deserved a better educationthan the Islands could afford. 

In arguing thus, Vashti was not entirely serious. She knew that Eliwould never cut himself loose from the Islands; but she hoped, byforcing him to face the alternative, to shake him out of his torpor. Inthis she had partly succeeded. For the first time the man opened hiseyes and saw hard facts--facts that in a few weeks' time he mustgrapple with, since neither grieving nor grumbling would remove them. But for the moment the discovery, instead of nerving him, inflamed hiswrath. 

A strong man, finding himself helpless, suffers horribly. Especially hesuffers when, with a dim sense that in the last resort all powerdepends on strength, he finds himself tripped up and laid on his backby a man physically his inferior. Had the Lord Proprietor inherited theIslands from a line of ancestors--had his tyranny rested on any feudaltradition--Eli was Briton enough to have acquiesced or submitted. Butthis whipper-snapper had bought the Islands: money--dirty moneyalone--gave him power over men who were Islanders by birth and by longgenerations of breeding. While the Lord Proprietor talked, Eli felt animpulse almost uncontrollable to lay hands on him and wring his neck. 

The three men had reached Coppa Parc, an enclosure of twelve acresbounded along the north by the cliffs' edge, and deriving its name froma mass of granite rock--Carn Coppa--that, rising in ledges from nearthe middle of the field, ran northward until it broke awayprecipitously, overhanging the sea. The slopes around the base of theCarn showed here and there an outcrop of granite, but with pockets ofdeep soil in which (or so the Lord Proprietor maintained) barley couldbe grown at a profit. He appealed to Eli. 

"Come, what does Mr. Tregarthen say to it? A piece of ground likethis--hey?--oughtn't to beat a man that has grown barley on Saaron?"

He said it intending no offence, but in a bluff, hearty way, which hemeant to be genial. After a second or two, Eli not answering, he turnedand saw to his amazement that the man was trembling from head to footwith wrath. 

"What right have you? What right----" Eli stammered fiercely, and cameto a full stop, clenching his fists. 

The Lord Proprietor stared at him. "My good fellow, I hadn't thesmallest wish to hurt your feelings. What ails you? An innocent remark, surely!"

"What ails me?" echoed Eli, and stopped again, panting. "Man, have donewith this, and let me go--else I'll not promise to keep my hands offyou!"

For a moment he stood threatening, his eyes--like the eyes of a dumbanimal at bay--travelling from the Lord Proprietor to Sam Leggo. Theblood ebbed from his face, and left it unnaturally white. But of asudden he appeared to collect himself; thrust both hands in hispockets, and, turning his back, walked away resolutely down the slope. 

"Well!" said Sam Leggo, after a pause. "Well!"

"The man has never been thwarted before, " said the Lord Proprietor, asthey gazed after him together. "That's what comes of living alone in aplace like Saaron; and I'll take care his children don't learn the samefolly. Feels the curb, as you might say. Have you ever seen a horsebroken late in life?"

"You take it very quiet, sir, I must say, " protested Sam, admiringly. "So disrespectful as he was, too--and to the likes of you! Well! I'veknown Eli Tregarthen forty year, and if any man had come and toldme----"

"The worst is, we have wasted an afternoon, " said Sir Cęsar, easily. "But since we are here, with half-an-hour to spare before sunset, whatdo you say to showing me the adit?"

"The adit, sir?"

"There's an old adit hereabouts--eh?--that leads down to a cave. .. . Come, come, my good man, you don't deceive me by putting on that stupidface! We don't allow smuggling on the Islands in these days, and I liketo know the secrets of my own property. The cave is called Ogo Vean, orsomething like it; and if I must explain more precisely, it is whereyou and your father used to go hunting seals. "

"Yes, yes, to be sure, " Sam admitted; "an adit there is, or used to be. But, " he went on more cheerfully, "you'll find it nothing to look at. Ihan't set foot inside it for years, and I doubt but the entrance ischoked. "

"Take me to it, " said Sir Cęsar. 

Sam, without further remonstrance, led the way. They scrambled out tothe edge of the Carn, and there, where the last great boulder thrustitself forward over the sea, Sam scrambled off to the left, and loweredhimself down upon a turfy ledge. Warning his master to leave his gunbehind and beware of the slippery grass, he sidled out alongside thejutting slab, and suddenly ducked under it. The Lord Proprietor, following, crawled under the stone, and found himself staring into themouth of the adit--a dark hole less than four feet in height, andovergrown with ivy. Sam had spoken the truth. The passage, whithersoever it led, had been disused for years. 

"Cur'ous old place!" said Sam, reflectively, plucking at the ivy. "I'vea mind to try the inside of it again, one of these days. "

"I've a mind to explore it now, " said the Lord Proprietor. 

Sam stared at him. "You couldn't, sir; not without a lantern. You'd bebreakin' your neck, to a certainty. "

"Then fetch a lantern. Look sharp, man! Run back to the farm and fetcha lantern. I'll wait for you--no, not here: a few minutes on this ledgewould turn my head giddy--but on the Carn above. "

Without further words, he worked his body around carefully, and led theway back to the summit. 

"You'd best hurry, " he advised Sam, who showed no eagerness for thejob. "In another twenty minutes the dusk will be closing down fast. "

Sam slouched off at a fair pace across the field. Sir Cęsar watched hisretreating figure until it reached the gate, and then, picking up hisgun, disposed himself to wait. 

Seals? They ought to give good sport--better sport, he should imagine, than deerstalking. A pity, too, to let it die out . .. If seals stillfrequented the Islands. .. . He must consult Sam about it, and pick up afew wrinkles. He peered over the edge of the Carn, scanning the water, a hundred feet below him, for the rock which Abe had described. Hecould see no such rock. Maybe, though, it would be covered by the tide, now close upon high-water. 

Then he bethought him that the rock must lie a little to the west, towards Piper's Hole--that is to say, in the next small indentation ofthe shore. He strolled in that direction, following the cliff's edge, still with eyes upon the sea. 

Of a sudden he stopped and straightened himself up with a gasp. 

What sound was that?. .. Surely a voice--a woman's voice--singing up tohim from the depth!

Was he awake or dreaming?. .. Beyond all doubt someone was singing, downthere: a mournful, wordless song. He was no judge of music, but itseemed to him that, let alone the mystery of the singer, he had neverheard a voice so wonderful. It rose and fell with the surge of thetide. 

The Lord Proprietor laid down his gun. He had come to a shelving slopethat descended like a funnel or the half of a broken crater, narrowingto a dark pit, in which the sea heaved gently, but with a sound as of amonster sobbing; but still above this sound rose the voice of thesinger. 

He flung himself on the verge beside his gun and craned forward. .. . Yes, there was the rock; yes, and there on the rock sat a figure--awoman--and combed her long hair while she sang. 

CHAPTER XXIV

LINNET SEES A MERMAID

Annet, Linnet, and Matthew Henry sat together in a niche of the cliffto the west of Piper's Hole, and panted after their climb. 

They had raced up the hill in the gathering twilight for this (theirAunt Vazzy had assured them) was the time, if ever, to hear themermaids singing in Piper's Hole, and perhaps to catch a glimpse ofthem; this, and the hour of moonrise--which for them would be out ofthe question. 

For some days they had been discussing the adventure--not, it scarcelyneeds to be said, in their parents' hearing. But they had once or twiceconsulted with Aunt Vazzy, who understood children, and had a sense(denied to most grown-ups) of what was really interesting; and to-day, at dinner-time, Aunt Vazzy had allowed that no time could well be morepropitious than this evening, when the hours of twilight and of lowwater almost exactly coincided. But in private she warned Annet veryearnestly to look well after the two younger ones, and see to it thatthey did not risk their necks--a caution seldom given to Islandchildren, who grow up sure-footed as young goats. 

Annet had promised. The main difficulty would be to give the slip toJan, who usually pulled across from Saaron in good time to fetch themhome, and smoked a pipe by the shore while waiting for school to bedismissed. It would take them a good forty minutes to reach Piper'sHole and return. If they gave Jan the slip and delayed him so long, hewould undoubtedly lose his temper, and probably report them. Afterdiscussing this, they decided to take Jan into the plot. "Maybe, " saidAnnet, "he'll come along, too. I almost think he will if we put it tohim all of a sudden, for he's mighty curious about mermaids; but if wegive him time to think it over he'll feel ashamed, and say it's allchildren's whiddles, and back out--I know Jan. So we must wait tillschool is over and then coax him to come. "

Annet did not know that her father, having an appointment with the LordProprietor at North Inniscaw Farm, designed himself to call at theschool on his way back, and row the children home. Had she guessed thisit would have prevented the adventure, which, in fact, it furthered;for, coming out of school and hurrying down to the shore to catch Janand wheedle him, she found the boat moored there empty. Jan, no doubt, had taken a stroll up to the Lord Proprietor's garden, to have a chatwith Old Abe. They had caught him napping; and now, if they kept himwaiting, he could not grumble. 

So off the three children set for Piper's Hole; Annet and Linnet withlong strides, Matthew Henry trotting to keep up with them. Arrived atthe cliff's edge, they deployed with great caution--that no noise mightscare the mermaids from coming forth--and searched for a nook where, themselves hidden, they could command a view of the cove at their feet. 

Linnet, searching to the westward, found just such a spot; a rockyledge, well grassed, close under the topmost cornice of the cliff, andquite easy of access. To be sure, a rock on their right cut off theirview of the cove's inmost recess, where the funnel-shaped slope brokesheer over the mouth of the Hole. But the ledge looked full upon theMermaid's Rock and the heave of black water surging past it togurgitate between the narrowing walls of rock. 

Even the matter-of-fact Linnet could not repress a shiver as, afterpanting a while, she raised herself on one elbow and looked down intothe awesome pit. For not only was the water black, but the wholeshadowed base of the cliff wall; black as though stained by the inkywave. Black, too, showed the hither side of the Mermaid's Rock againsta gray sea, from which the last tint of sunset had faded. Now and then, between the sobbing of Piper's Hole, the children caught the murmur ofthe tide race, half-a-mile off shore, slackening its note as it nearedthe time of high-water and its turning point. Out there the sea wasagitated; within the line of the race, sharply defined on the gray, itheaved and sank on an oily swell. 

"My!" said Matthew Henry, gazing; and Annet turned on her sister andsaid, "There, now!" The words may seem inadequate, but Linnetunderstood them, and that they conveyed a question which she felt to bea poser. How could she doubt the existence of mermaids in such a spotas this? If a mermaid were to swim up to the surface under their veryeyes, would she be more wonderful than the actual scene--the blackrocks, the sobbing water?

"Folks, " said Annet, incisively, "that laugh at stories about Piper'sHole, ought to come and see the place for themselves. "

"Yes, " Matthew Henry agreed; "and after that they can begin to talk. "

"I didn't laugh, " protested Linnet, flung upon her defence. "Besides, "she went on weakly, "I don't see why it must be mermaids. If anythinglives down there, why shouldn't it be a dragon---or a giant, perhaps----"

"Linnet's improving, " put in Matthew Henry, with fine sarcasm. 

"Well, it sounds to me more like the noise a dragon would make, " Linnetpersisted, finding as she went on that her argument was carrying herthrough very creditably; "or a giant snoring, as they always do aftermeals. "

Annet scanned the black water pensively. "I've heard tell, " she said, "of great cuttles that sit and squat under the water; and sometimes, when they are hungry, they fling up their suckers and pull you down offthe rocks and eat you. "

Matthew Henry drew back from the brink, visibly daunted. 

"Look here, " he began, "I don't mind mermaids. Mermaids, so far as theygo----"

But here he came to a halt as a tinkling sound--the sound of a stringedinstrument, gently thrummed, rose from out of the abyss. 

It fell on their ears in a pause of the surging water. It came from theMermaid's Rock, and thither all three children turned their eyes, tosee, over the crest of it, from its hidden seaward side, a woman's headand shoulders emerge into view!

In the gathering dusk, even had she lifted her face to them, they couldnot have discerned her features. But as she climbed into view herloosened hair fell all about her; on the summit of the rock she turnedand seated herself fronting the sea; and while the three children drewtogether, cowering, at her gaze, she began to sing. 

And she sang marvellously. If her song had words, they were foreignwords; but whether articulate or not it was beautiful beyond all humancompass--or so at least it seemed to the children, whose experiencerested, to be sure, on the congregational efforts of Brefar Church. 

It rose and sank upon the swell of the tide. It held such sweetness inits mystery that, frightened though they were, the wonder of it drewtears to their eyes. It seemed to open pathways into that world oftheir desire, on the boundaries of which they were forever treading;yet forever vainly, because they had not the passwords, and in theirignorance could only guess that miracles lay beyond, sealed, unimaginable. 

The children huddled together, lost their fear in wonder, as the voiceof the mermaid, growing more and more confident, pierced new roads forthem--roads upon which the twilight closed at once; rays into a glorythey felt, and trembled to feel, but could not apprehend, because thevision was of mere beauty, and music divorced from words is the last ofarts to convey form and meaning. 

Yet though wholly indefinite, almost wholly meaningless, it spoke tosomething to which the children felt all their blood thrilling, responding. Listening, they forgot their fear altogether. .. . 

The singer laid down her instrument. The grey of the twilight ran overher bare shoulders as, with a turn of the arm, she swept her tressesback, and--still singing--drew out mirror and comb. .. . 

They craned to watch. 

Suddenly from the height of the cliff, close on their right, rang outthe report of a gun. The song ceased abruptly, lost in the echoes thatbeat from cliff to cliff, and amid these echoes the children heard anoise of falling stones, followed by a heavy splash. 

Annet had sprung to her feet. Linnet and Matthew Henry, too, had pickedthemselves up, though more slowly. .. . A wisp of smoke drifted by therock to their right. When they turned their eyes upon the Mermaid'sRock the singer had vanished. 

Annet caught Matthew Henry by one hand; Matthew Henry stretched outanother to Linnet. The three scrambled up to the cliff-top, and thenceraced homeward, panic-stricken, across the darkening fields. 

CHAPTER XXV

MISSING!

 _"Sir, --I am directed by the Secretary of State for War to acknowledge receipt of your letter of the 19th ultimo, the contents of which shall receive his attention. _

 _"I am, sir, _

 _"Your obedient servant, _

 "J. FLEETWOOD CUNNINGHAM. "

The Commandant, from long disuse, had forgotten the formalities ofofficial correspondence. His hand shook as he tore open the longenvelope, expecting to read his fate, and in the revulsion, as his eyesfell on the few lines of acknowledgment, he caught at the table's edgeand sank into his chair with a sudden feeling of faintness. 

For a few hours, then--possibly for a few days--he was respited. He putthe letter aside and walked out, to take his afternoon stroll aroundthe fortifications and steady his nerves. 

By the Keg of Butter Battery he halted for a long look across the Soundand towards Saaron. Unconsciously for a week past, he had fallen into ahabit of halting just here and letting his eyes travel towards Saaron. It was just here that Vashti had seated herself the first morning, andhad asked him the fatal question, "For what, then, do they pay you?" Heremembered the words, the inflection of scorn in her tone. Here at hisfeet on a cushion of wild thyme lay the stone she had prised outabsently, while she spoke, with the point of her sunshade. Just here, too, she had taken leave of him on the night of her escapade, the nightwhen (it was bliss to remember) she had recanted her scorn, had askedhis forgiveness. 

For a whole week he had not seen her. Was she careless, then, of theanswer?--of what resulted from the train she had fired?. .. But, afterall (the Commandant told himself), she had no need to concern herselfabout it. She had but set him in the way of doing his duty; for therest, a man must accept his own responsibility, stand by his ownactions, abide his own fate. 

Yet he would have given a great deal, just now, for speech with her, totell her that, unimportant though it was, some word from the War Officehad reached him. 

Throughout his stroll his mind kept harking back to this letter, seeking behind the few and formal words for meanings they did notcover; and again that evening, after his frugal supper, he drew theenvelope from its pigeon-hole, spread the paper on the table beforehim, and sat studying it. 

He lifted his head, at a sound in the passage. The outer door had beenburst open violently, as though by a gust of wind, and a moment laterArchelaus came running in with a face of panic. 

"The Lord behear us!" gasped Archelaus. "Oh, sir, here's awful, awfulnews! The Lord Proprietor's been murdered, and his body flung over thecliff, and Sam Leggo and Abe the gardener be running through thestreets wi' the news of it!"

"Murdered! The Lord Proprietor!" echoed the Commandant, laying down hisglasses and rising to his feet in blankest amaze. 

"Yes, sir; shot with his own gun, and, they say, by Eli Tregarthen! Thetwo men have pulled across from Inniscaw for help, and to fetch theconstable. .. . I had the news from Sam Leggo hisself, as he raced off toknock up Mr. Pope. "

The Commandant sank back in his chair. Dreadful though the news was, hesaw in a flash that it was not incredible. Eli Tregarthen owed the LordProprietor a grudge, and a bitter one. Eli Tregarthen was a man capableof brooding over his wrongs and exacting wild justice for them. TheCommandant's thoughts flew to Vashti. 

But even as he passed a hand over his eyes, another footstep invadedthe outer passage, and Mr. Pope himself rushed in, mopping his brow. 

"My dear friend--" Not in his life before had Mr. Pope addressed theCommandant as "my dear friend. " He glanced from one scared face to theother. "You have heard? Oh, but it is terrible!. .. And what on earthare we to do?"

"I beg your pardon, " answered the Commandant, recovering his presenceof mind. "'We, ' did you say?"

"Naturally I came first to you. .. . You being a magistrate, and--if thisdreadful news be true--the chief magistrate left on the Islands. "

"True, " said the Commandant, yet more quietly. He had regained hisself-possession. "I had forgotten. To be sure, I had renounced theoffice--as I supposed--at the Lord Proprietor's own wish; but doubtlessit reverts to me, and, in any case, this is no time to discussproprieties. Will you tell me what has happened and what has alreadybeen done?"

"Done? I have done nothing except send for the constable, with wordthat he was to follow me here to the Barracks and take your orders. "

"But where is the body?"

"The body?" Mr. Pope shivered. "God knows. That, my dear Commandant, isthe cruellest part of the mystery--at least, according to Sam Leggo. Itappears that Sir Cęsar, Leggo and Eli Tregarthen were at North Inniscawthis afternoon, taking stock of the farm, which Sir Cęsar waspersuading Tregarthen to rent. Tregarthen was sullen--you may haveheard that he resents being given notice to quit his holding on Saaron. In the end, on some chance word of Sir Cęsar's he blazed up, completelylost control of himself, and used threats of personal violence. Leggowill swear to this; but it is immaterial, for I myself have heard himindulge in similar threats, and so has Abe, the gardener. Well, Tregarthen swung off in a huff, took his way down across Pare Coppa--itwas there, just under the Cam, that the outbreak occurred--apparentlyfor the landing-quay by the school, where his boat lay. He left SirCęsar and Sam Leggo standing there. "

"At what time?"

"The time, according to Leggo, was close upon sunset. Sir Cęsar--as hishabit is--carried a gun under his arm; but whether or not the gun wasloaded Leggo is unable to say. After expressing surprise atTregarthen's display of temper, Sir Cęsar turned the conversation uponan old adit which lies under the seaward face of the Cam, and leads (Iam assured) down to Ogo Vean. Its existence is known to very few--andLeggo was surprised to hear him mention it; but it now appears that hehad learnt of it this very afternoon, in casual talk with old Abe. Hedesired then and there to explore it, and--having examined theentrance--either because the adit itself is dark, or as a precaution inthe gathering dusk, he sent Leggo back to the farmhouse to fetch alantern. Leggo declares that it took him less than fifteen minutes toreach the farm, find the lantern, and return with it to the lower gateof Parc Coppa; also that he used his best speed because the dusk wasgathering. As he reached the gate he heard a shot from somewhere on theedge of the cliffs. This did not perturb him, for he supposed that theLord Proprietor was potting at a stray rabbit. As he climbed the field, however, towards the Carn, on the summit of which he had left Sir Cęsarseated, he saw three small children running along the cliffs to hisleft, making for the slope towards the landing-quay, and recognisedthem for Tregarthen's three children. He called to them to stop, forthey seemed to be running in a panic. If they heard, they did not obey, but ran down the hill out of sight. By this--and because he could notsee Sir Cęsar on the summit of the Carn--he began to grow alarmed, litthe candle within his lantern (for it was now nearly dark), andshouted. He received no answer. He ran to the edge of the Carn, climbeddown thence to the mouth of the adit, and--finding no trace of hismaster--began to hunt, still shouting, along the cliffs to the left, inthe direction where he had first spied the children. To cut his storyshort, " resumed Mr. Pope, after taking breath, "his search led him tothe edge of the cliffs over Piper's Hole, and there, in a tangle ofbrambles, his lantern shone on something bright, which proved, when atno small risk he climbed down to it, to be the barrel of Sir Cęsar'sgun. Below the brambles (he says) the ground breaks away veryprecipitately to a sheer fall of rock over the entrance of Piper'sHole. He could not trust himself here, but declares that the earthbelow the brambles--so much his lantern showed him--had evidently beendisturbed, and quite recently; as also that the slide was bare andsmooth, with no trace of a body between it and the last ledge overwhich a falling body would plunge into the water; and the tide, as hesays--and as, indeed, we know--was almost at full flood. Havingsatisfied himself of this, he ran back, down the hill and past theschool to carry the alarm to the house; and from the quay beside theschool he saw Tregarthen's boat crossing to Saaron, and Tregarthen init with his three children. Sam called to him, and his call brought outthe schoolmistress, who no sooner heard the story than she fell toscreaming. Tregarthen, though he must have heard the noise they made, did not respond, but continued pulling calmly towards Saaron. 

"Leggo could not say precisely, but admits that the boat was alreadynearing Saaron, and that the man, if he heard, possibly did notunderstand--that is, if one can suppose him innocent. "

"We will suppose him innocent, " said the Commandant, "until we havebetter evidence that he is guilty. What was Leggo's next step?"

"He ran on smoking-hot to the house, the schoolmistress after him; upthrough the gardens to the terrace, where they met old Abe returninghome from work. The schoolmistress went on to alarm the servants, whilethe two men made for the private landing, unmoored the LordProprietor's boat, and pulled across for Garland Town to break the newsto me. But on the quay and along the streets they told it to a score ofpeople, and it is spreading through the town like wildfire. "

"Naturally. " The Commandant had fetched and slipped on his great-coat, and stood buttoning it. He glanced at his watch. "If the constable doesnot turn up in a minute or so, we must start without him. Archelaus, run you down and call up Mr. Rogers. Ask him, with my compliments, tocall out the coastguard----"

"Pardon me, " Mr. Pope interrupted, "but that is unnecessary. Mr. Rogershas already started for Inniscaw in the jolly-boat, taking Leggo withhim. They are to search the shore around Piper's Hole. "

"Thank you, " said the Commandant. "That was obviously the first step totake, and I am obliged to you for having thought of it so promptly. "

Mr. Pope coughed apologetically. He had grown of a sudden very red inthe face. "In point of fact, " he confessed, "Mr. Rogers was at my housewhen the news came. We were--er--indulging in a quiet rubber. "

The Commandant understood. Had the occasion been less serious, he mighthave smiled. Not since the night which brought Vashti to the Islandshad he received an invitation to Mrs. Pope's parties. 

"Ah, to be sure!" said he, quietly, reaching for his forage-cap; "I hadforgotten that this was your whist-evening. "

Mr. Pope coughed again awkwardly, and was about to make matters worseby further apology, but a rat-tat on the door prevented this, andArchelaus, hurrying out, admitted Dr. Bonaday, the physician of GarlandTown, followed by John Ward, the constable, and old Abe. 

Of these three old men you would have found it difficult at first sightto decide which was the eldest: and you have not made Dr. Bonaday'sacquaintance until now; because it was unnecessary. As the saying wentin the Islands, "the old doctor troubled about nobody, and nobodytroubled about he"--that is, unless an Islander needed to be helpedinto the world or out of it. He was a bachelor, a recluse, and (albeithis neighbours were ignorant of this) a European authority on lichensand mosses. A small private income allowed him to indulge a habit offorgetting to charge for his professional services; and, on thestrength of it, the Islanders forgave one who never remembered a face, and who, when summoned to a sick-bed, had to be guided thither by amessenger, lest he should knock at half a dozen doors in error by theway. There was a tradition in St. Hugh's that once, running from hissurgery with a hot poultice, he had clapped it on the harbour-master, who was politely intercepting him to point out that another two strideswould take him over the quay's edge into deep water. In person, Dr. Bonaday was remarkable for a completely bald head, a hooked nose, and apair of vague, impercipient eyes, as of an owl astray and blinking inthe sunlight. 

If Dr. Bonaday was an authority on lichens and mosses, Constable Wardwas an authority on nothing at all, even in his own house, where hisyoungest grand-daughter attended to his wants. Amid a population whichseldom broke the law and never resisted it, he had sunk of late yearsinto a peaceful decay of all his faculties. He carried his emblem ofoffice, a small mace, attached to his wrist by a string, and his handshook pitiably as he fumbled for it, but less with excitement than fromshock at having been aroused and dragged from his bed into the nightair. 

"I see no reason for taking the constable with us, " the Commandantdecided, after a compassionate glance at the old man. 

"In case of an arrest--" began Mr. Pope. 

"First let us be certain that a crime has been committed. "

"To my thinking, all the circumstances point to murder, and to nothingelse. "

"And, if they do, we can accuse no one until we have found the body. .. . Constable, you can go back to bed. "

"I thank you, sir. " Constable Ward, for the instant plainly relieved, checked himself, and stood trembling, irresolute. "You mustn't think, gentlemen, that I'd shirk doing my duty. "

"No, no, Ward: I quite understand, " the Commandant assured him. 

"The Governor, " said Mr. Pope, slipping back to the old form ofaddress, disused for years--"The Governor rather doubts that you areequal to it. "

"For God's sake, gentlemen, don't put it in that way! This affair'llget into the newspapers, over on the main, and if 'tis said thatConstable Ward was too old for his duty, whatever'll become of me?"

Mr. Pope turned away with a sniff of disgust. "People of a certainclass, " said he half-audibly, "can see nothing but as it affectsthemselves. Of his duty this old dotard thinks nothing at all, nor ofthe scandal of his continuing to draw public pay: yet, mark you, howkeenly he scents a danger of losing it!"

The Commandant winced, and shot a glance at the aged, unheroic figure. "And there, " thought he, "but for God's grace and a woman's word, stands Narcisse Vigoureux! Even so, a few days since, did I consent tobe incompetent and dread only to be detected. "

Aloud he said: "Mr. Pope is too hasty, Ward, in suggesting that I don'tmean to use you. To-morrow, after a night's rest, there may be workenough for you. Come, we are to pass your door, and will see you home. You, Doctor, will accompany us, I hope? We may need you. "

They set forth down the dark road towards the quay, Abe and Archelauswalking ahead with lanterns, and guiding. Having restored ConstableWard to his youngest grand-daughter, they pushed forward more briskly, hailing the boat which (according to Mr. Pope) would be standing by forthem on Mr. Rogers' instructions. Sure enough, voices answered theirhail, and under the shadow of the quay steps they found the six-oaredService gig, with her crew seated ready at their oars: also on the quayitself the whole town gathered, canvassing the dreadful news. 

At their approach the confused voices dropped to silence. In silencethe town watched its men of authority as they stepped down to the boatand took their seats. And, amid silence, the coxswain called his order, "Give way!"

CHAPTER XXVI

THE SEARCH

Ahead of them, across the Roads, and up the narrow length of Cromwell'sSound, many lights twinkled: for already two-score boats had put outfrom St. Lide's Quay and were hurrying to the search, with lanterns andhurricane lamps. The windows of the Great House on Inniscaw fairlyblazed with light. The upland farmsteads, too, were awake, here and inBrefar, and the cottages around Inniscaw schoolhouse and Brefar Church. Only Saaron, as they passed it, showed no sign of life, no glimmeringray from the windows of Eli Tregarthen's house, dark upon the darkhillside. Mr. Pope called the Commandant's attention to this. 

"Patience, " said the Commandant. "We will land and question him on ourway home. "

"You will admit that it looks suspicious. "

The Commandant did not answer. 

"If Leggo's story be true, " said Dr. Bonaday, addressing the coxswainabruptly, as though awakened of a sudden from a brown study, "theaccident must have happened just upon high-water; in which case Mr. Rogers will do best to start searching to westward along the northshore of Brefar, following the set of the ebb. "

"I reckon he'll take that line, sir, if he finds nothing at Piper'sHole, " the coxswain answered. "But his plan, as he told it to me, wasto land Leggo, with two of our men, by the schoolhouse, and send themup the hill with ropes and lanterns, while he pulled round and searchedPiper's Hole from seaward. "

The Doctor appeared to digest this plan for a full minute. "Pope, " hesaid, abruptly as before, "do you happen to know if the Lord Proprietorhad made his will?"

"Good Lord!" answered Mr. Pope, testily, "I am not his lawyer. "

"He has relatives?"

"Some distant cousins, I believe; none nearer. Why do you ask?"

"Because, " answered the Doctor, imperturably, "it occurred to me as anatural question under the circumstances. Then it would appear, myfriend, that Sir Cęsar's decease (if we suppose it) is a very seriousaffair indeed for you?"

"Man alive!" snapped Mr. Pope. "Of what else do you suppose I have beenthinking, ever since I heard this news?"

Dr. Bonaday did not reply in words; but the Commandant--who happened tobe gazing just then towards North Island, where the great sea-lightseemed to search the outer tides with its monstrous eye--heard, orfancied that he heard, a sound as of a quiet chuckle. Suddenly heremembered Mr. Pope's scornful criticism of old Constable Ward:remembered it, and glanced at the Doctor. But the Doctor was an uncannyfellow, and inscrutable. 

Though the coastguardsmen, pulling with a will, overtook and passed atleast a dozen boats on their way, it cost them close upon an hour toreach the upper end of Cromwell's Sound and open the coast along thenorth side of Inniscaw. They had no need to search for Mr. Rogers andthe jolly-boat. Flares were burning and torches waving in and aroundthe entrance to Piper's Hole, and as the gig drew closer the Commandantdiscerned the figures of half-a-dozen searchers, roped and movingcautiously with lanterns from ledge to ledge of the dizzy cliff. Thejolly-boat lay beached on a bank of fine shingle left by the recedingtide at the entrance of the cave, and beside it stood Mr. Rogersshouting orders. 

He hailed the newcomers as soon as he caught sight of them. Leggo andhis two men had found Sir Cęsar's gun, and recovered it from the bushesoverhanging the cave. But of Sir Cęsar himself no trace could be found. It was clear to his mind that the body had rolled down the cliff intodeep water, and had been carried out to sea. His fellows up yonder hadexamined every foot of the descent, and were risking their necks to nopurpose. He would give them another ten minutes to make a clean job ofthe search, and would then call them off and seek along shore to thewestward. 

Had the cave itself been searched? This was the Commandant's firstquestion as he stepped out upon the shingle. 

Yes; they had begun by searching the cave. They had followed it forfifty yards, and come to a ridge of rock, heaped with ore-weed, beyondwhich (it was certain) no ordinary tide ever penetrated. The floor ofthe cave shelved pretty steeply up to this ridge, and beyond it lay apool of fresh water, about twenty yards long. It was impossible that ahuman body could have been swept over the ridge into this pool. Nevertheless they had explored it. But would the Commandant care tosatisfy himself?

Mr. Rogers, without waiting for an answer, picked up a lantern and ledthe way under the great arch. The Commandant followed, his feet atevery step sinking ankle-deep in the fine shingle. He found himself ina passage nine or ten feet wide, the walls of which rose about twentyfeet above him, and vaulted themselves in darkness. At first thispassage appeared to him to end, some fifteen paces from the entrance, in a barrier of solid rock, but Mr. Rogers, stepping forward with thelantern, revealed a low archway to the left and a second passage, partially choked with ore-weed. Through this they squeezed themselves, crouching and stooping their heads--for the roof in places was lessthan five feet high--and after a couple of zig-zags drew breath at theentrance of the second chamber, at least as lofty as the first and afull twenty feet wide. Across the entrance the floor sloped up to therocky ridge, of which Mr. Rogers had spoken; and beyond the ridge laythe pool. 

"Taste it, " said Mr. Rogers, and the Commandant, kneeling by the edgeof the pool, scooped up a palmful of water to his lips. It was freshwater, undoubtedly; very cold, and not in the least brackish. 

"Look down, " said Mr. Rogers, holding his lantern so that theCommandant could peer into the depths. "You can see every stone at thebottom, and my men have searched it all. " He lifted the light above hishead and gazed into the mysterious darkness beyond the pool. "I mustexplore this place to the end, one of these days. The chief boatmanwaded through, and reported yet another passage beyond; but of course Iwouldn't let my men waste time in exploring it. What a place for seals, hey?"

"Seals?" queried the Commandant. 

"Leggo gave me a sort of description of the place on our way here. Hetells me that this cave and the next are a favourite haunt of the sealswhen they visit the Islands. In fact, he used to hunt them here withhis father. But of late years, for some reason, they have given theIslands the go-by. "

"You think it possible, " suggested the Commandant, "Sir Cęsar may haveseen one, and taken a shot at it?"

"That's not likely; and anyway it doesn't help us. It won't account forhis gun being found in the bushes, half-way down the cliff, nor for hisdisappearing. Among a deal that's mysterious, this much is clear: Leggoleft him on the cliff above us; within twenty minutes Sir Cęsar's gunwent off, whether fired by himself or by someone else; and whetherwounded or not, he slid down the cliff and over the ledge above thecave. His body is not in the cave; therefore, presumably, it was suckedout to sea by the time, and presumably has been carried somewhere tothe westward. Shall we turn back?"

The Commandant nodded. "You will have plenty of folk to help yoursearch, " said he, "to judge from the number of boats we passed on ourway. By spreading your forces, in less than two hours you can have thewhole shore examined, from here to the west of Brefar. By the way, whohas possession of Sir Cęsar's gun?"

"It was passed up to Sam Leggo, on the cliff. But if you wish to takecharge of it----"

"It will probably be wanted for evidence. "

"Come, then. " Mr. Rogers led the way back to the entrance, and calledup an order to have the gun lowered by a shore-line; which was done, the coast guardsmen on the cliffs fending the line clear of the bushes, and so passing it from one to another until it dangled over the ledgewithin grasp. The Commandant, as the taller, reached up for the gun, took it, and examined it by the light of the lantern which Mr. Rogersheld for him. 

The gun was undoubtedly the Lord Proprietor's; a breechloader ofcuriously fine workmanship, bearing the name of a famous St. James'Street maker. Of the hammers, one was down, the other at half-cock;and, pulling open the breech, the Commandant drew forth two cartridges, the one empty, the other unused. He pocketed these and examined thebarrels. Clearly, one shot--and one only--had been fired since the gunwas last cleaned. 

He invited Mr. Rogers to verify these simple observations; and then, turning the gun over, was aware of a trace of earth on thetrigger-guard and another on the point of the butt. These were easilyaccounted for. The weapon, no doubt, had slid for some distance downthe cliff--probably from the very top--before lodging in the busheswhere Leggo had found it. 

Half an hour's exploration of the cave, the cove, the cliff-face, hadyielded no further clue. Mr. Rogers drew off his men, and, embarkingthem, started to search the shore to the westward. 

By this time some thirty boats had gathered, and through the longnight, in every creek and cranny of the shore, from the extreme east ofInniscaw to the extreme west of Brefar, the search went on. The wind, chopping to the north-west, rose to a stiff breeze, and not only blewbitterly cold, with squalls of rain and sleet, but raised a sea thatmade it dangerous to explore the rocks closely. Nevertheless, not asingle boat put back, and not a few took incredible risks. 

Day broke--a dull smurr of gray in an interval between two sleet-ladensqualls. In the cheerless light of it the Commandant, who, albeit numbwith cold, had had not yet found time to feel fatigue, caught sight ofDr. Bonaday's face, and was smitten with sudden compunction. The oldDoctor had sat through six distressful hours like the stoic he was; buthis face showed like that of a corpse, and the usually plump and floridcheeks of Mr. Pope hung flaccid, blue with the pinch of the cold andyellow for lack of sleep. The Commandant spoke to the coxswain, and, running up the gig alongside the jolly-boat, suggested to theindomitable Mr. Rogers that the men were almost dead-beat, to which, indeed, the faces of all bore witness in the broadening daylight. 

"We must not exhaust ourselves utterly, " suggested Mr. Pope. "It isalready day, and the Council of Twelve ought to meet before noon. "

"Indeed? Why?" asked the Commandant, absently. 

"Why, to advertise the Lord Proprietor's disappearance, with a printeddescription of him!"

"Is that necessary? Surely by this time everyone in the Islands hasheard the news; and, as for describing him----"

"It is the proper course to pursue, " insisted Mr. Pope, who wassomething of a formalist; "in such--er--crises one should proceedregularly. Doubtless the Council, when called, will proclaim a reward. "

"For what?" asked Doctor Bonaday. 

Mr. Pope turned on him impatiently; but the Doctor's eyes, like thesimpleton's in Scripture, were fixed on the ends of the earth. "Why, for the discovery of the body, " said Mr. Pope. 

"You might offer twenty rewards, " said the Commandant. "You cannot makemen work harder than they have worked to-night. Still, if you desire tosummon the Council----"

"I am suggesting that you should do so. "

"But I am no longer a member. "

"On the contrary, as Governor, you are now its President. "

The Commandant reflected for a moment. "True, " he murmured, "I keepforgetting. " Pulling himself together, with a shake of the shoulders, he turned again to Mr. Rogers. 

"Mr. Rogers, " said he, "you know better than I of how much fatigue yourmen are capable. For my part, I am returning to summon the Council ofthe Islands to meet me in the Court House at twelve o'clock noon, tosummon volunteers and organize a general search. Your presence andadvice will be of the greatest service to us; and as I see some freshboats coming up the Sound, I submit that you leave them yourinstructions and draw off your tired crews to take what rest they need"

Mr. Rogers looked up sharply, surprised by the new ring of authority inthe Commandant's voice. "Very well, sir, " he answered, after a pause. "I shall be happy to attend the Council and concert measures with you. It occurs to me that the body may just possibly have been carriedtowards North Island on a back eddy, and with your leave I will tellthe new-coming boats to seek in that direction. "

"I thank you, " said the Commandant, and at once gave the word to hisown crew to pull for home. "And on our way, " he added, "you shall landme for ten minutes at the East Porth, under Saaron Farm. "

 * * * * *

At the East Porth, where they found Eli Tregarthen's boat at hermoorings off the grass-grown landing-quay, the Commandant steppedashore. Mr. Pope offered to accompany him, but he declined, and went upthe hill alone. 

At the yard-gate he caught sight of Jan Nanjulian, faring forth withhis pails to milk the cows; and, hailing him, demanded where he mightfind the farmer. Jan directed him to a line of furze-stacks at the backof the byres, and, turning the corner of these, he came face to facewith Eli Tregarthen, who had loaded himself with a couple of faggotsfor the kitchen fire. 

"Good morning!" said the Commandant. 

"Ah? Good morning to you, sir, " answered Tregarthen, clearly surprised, but showing no sign of guilt or confusion. 

"You have heard the news?"

"No, sir. "

"The Lord Proprietor is missing. "

"Missing?" Tregarthen set down his faggots and stared at theCommandant. 

"He has been missing since yesterday at dusk. I understand that youwere in his company shortly before then, on Carn Coppa?"

"That is so, sir. I left him and Sam Leggo standing together there atthe top of the field. "

"A few minutes later he sent Leggo to the farmhouse to fetch a lantern. Leggo declares that on his way back he heard a gun fired. "

Tregarthen nodded. "That's right. I heard the shot, too, and reckonedthat the man had let fly at a rabbit. He carried a gun. "

"You don't speak too respectfully of the Lord Proprietor, my friend. "

"I speak as I think, " answered Tregarthen, his brow darkening. "He wasno friend to me or mine. "

"I advise you very strongly to keep that sort of talk to yourself, atany rate for the present. To begin with, Sir Cęsar is missing, and wehave grave fear he will not be found again alive: so that it is notseemly. But, further, I must caution you that you parted from him usingthreats, and your threats have been reported. "

"Turn me out of Saaron, he would--" began Tregarthen, but checkedhimself at the moment when passion seemed on the point ofover-mastering him. "Well, sir, I didn't shoot him, if that's what theyare telling, " he added, quietly. 

"I should be sorry, indeed, to suspect any such thing. But let me tellyou the rest. Hearing the shot, Leggo made good speed back to CarnCoppa. His master had disappeared; but away to the left, near the edgeof the cliffs, he saw three children running down the hill, and hedeclares that those children were yours. "

Tregarthen put up a hand and rubbed the side of his head. 

"_My_ children?" he repeated. "I can't make this out at all, sir. Whatcould my children be doing anywhere near Carn Coppa?"

"You had best ask them. "

"No, " said Tregarthen, picking up his faggots, "I never brought them upto be afraid of the truth. Come with me to the house, sir, and theyshall tell what they know. "

He led the way, and the Commandant followed him indoors to the kitchen, where they found Ruth stooping over the great hearth, already busy withthe morning fire. Across the planching overhead sounded the patter ofthe children's bare feet. 

In a couple of minutes they came running down together, laughing ontheir way, and the Commandant had to wonder again--as he had wonderedbefore, on the afternoon when he had sailed them home from Merryman'sHead--at their beautiful manners. They were neither shy, norembarrassed. Indeed, it was the Commandant who felt embarrassment (andshowed it) as he asked them to tell what had taken them to Piper'sHole, and what they had seen there. 

"We saw a mermaid, " answered Annet. "She was sitting on the rockoutside the cove; and first she was singing to a kind of harp, andafterwards she sang as she combed her hair. And then someone fired agun at her from the cliffs, and she disappeared, and we were frightenedand ran away. We did not see who fired the gun, nor if she was wounded. It was not brave of us to run away so quickly, and we have been sorryever since. "

"What nonsense is this?" growled their father. "Annet, my child, wetell the truth--all of us--here on Saaron. "

"It may have been a seal, " hazarded the Commandant. "I am told thatPiper's Hole used to be a famous spot for seals. "

But Annet lifted her chin and answered, her eyes steadily raised to herfather's face. "No, it was not a seal; it was a mermaid. She sang andcombed her hair just as I told you. It was beginning to grow dark, butwe could see her quite plainly. " She turned for confirmation to Linnetand Matthew Henry, and they both nodded. 

Their father growled again that this was nonsense; but the Commandant, lifting a hand, asked what had taken them to the cliffs above Piper'sHole. It could not (he suggested) have been that they expected to catchsight of a mermaid. 

"Yes, " answered Annet again; "that was just the reason. " She wasspeaking frankly, as a child can speak; but children have their owncode of honour, and it forbids them to give away a friend. "Jan wastelling us, only the other day, " she explained with careful lucidity, "how his father had once caught a mermaid in a pool there. We wantedvery much to see one, and so we planned to go. But afterwards, whenfather rowed us home, we did not like to tell him about it. We wereafraid he would laugh at us; and we were frightened, too; afraid thatthe mermaid had been hurt; and--and we were upset because father hadbrought the boat for us instead of Jan Nanjulian----"

"But most of all, " put in Linnet, "I was upset because I had beensaying that there were no such things. "

"You silly children, of course there are no such things, " said theirmother. 

But Matthew Henry, ignoring her, and more in pity than in anger, turnedon the Commandant. "Are you come, " he asked, "because she is hurt?"

"She? Who?"

"The mermaid. We didn't mean to bring ill-luck to her. Jan said therewas no good luck ever in spying on a mermaid, but Aunt Vazzy said thatwas nonsense, and of course we believed Aunt Vazzy----"

But here the child came to a full stop, startled by a swift change inthe Commandant's look, and by a sudden sharp exclamation. 

"Your Aunt Vazzy?" The Commandant's hand went up to his forehead. Itseemed that, under the shadow of it his face grew pale and gray as hegazed from Matthew Henry to the two girls, and from them again to theirmother. 

"Ma'am, " said he, in a shaking voice, "is your sister in the house?"

With his question, it seemed that in turn he had passed on his pallorto Ruth, who, however, drew herself up and answered him with spirit. "Sir, " said Ruth Tregarthen, "you are asking too much. Must we beaccountable to you for my sister's doings?"

"For God's sake, " cried the Commandant, "let us waste no time inmisunderstandings! Can you not see that your children are telling onlythe truth?--that she--your sister--was the mermaid? And if she did notventure home last night----"

"She took her own boat, " quavered poor Ruth. "She started yesterdayafternoon soon after the children had left for school--and she told menot to worry if she came home late. .. . My sister, sir, has queer waysof her own. .. . Maybe she heard the news on her way back, and has beensearching all night with the others. "

The Commandant had fallen to pacing the room. "She was not among thesearchers, " he said, impatiently. "And, moreover, she has not returned:her boat is not at the landing-quay. "

"A moment, sir!" interposed Tregarthen. "I see what you fear, and it isterrible. But one thing is not plain to me at all. Vashti took her ownboat, we hear. Now, suppose that the shot wounded her, or worse, stillwe have the boat to account for: and the boat, you say, is not to befound. "

"Was ever a more hopeless mystery!" cried the Commandant, flinging outhis hands. 

But Eli Tregarthen turned to his wife, who had dropped into a chair bythe fire and lay back, gripping the arms of it. 

"Courage, wife!" said he, laying a strong palm over one of hertrembling hands. "And you, sir, take my thanks; go you home, and leavethe search to me. "

CHAPTER XXVII

ENTER THE COMMISSIONER

It was noon, and in the Court House all the Councillors rose as theCommandant entered and took his seat. 

In the fewest possible words he opened the business, and leaned back inhis chair of state, waiting for the talk to begin. He scarcely knewwhat he had said, and yet he had spoken well. With his restoredauthority had come back the old easy habit of it. 

At such a moment the Councillors would not have allowed, even tothemselves, that they breathed more easily and fell to business almostwith a sigh of relief, under the presidency of their old chairman. Yetso it was. The Lord Proprietor had been autocratic in council, impatient of opinions that crossed his own, apt to treat discussion asa tedious preliminary to enforcing his will. 

After five years, then, the Councillors enjoyed, without confessing it, a sense of liberty regained; and it was the more to the Commandant'scredit that in spite of it he kept a firm rein on the debate, cuttingshort all prolixities of speculation, and briefly ruling Mr. Pope'stheory of foul play to be, for the present, out of order. They weremet, he reminded them, for two practical purposes; in the first place, to organise a thorough search for the Lord Proprietor, and, secondly, to determine, as briefly as possible, how the government of the Islandsshould be continued and carried on during his absence. He would takethese two questions only. 

Mr. Rogers attended, and was cross-examined at length. With a chartbefore him, and with the help of Reuben Hicks, the St. Ann's pilot, hetraced and described the currents to the northward of Inniscaw, theChairman meanwhile, with pencil and paper, assigning the search-partiesto the various rocks and groups of islets in or around which it wasdeemed possible for a floating body to be carried--so many boats toNorth Island, so many to seek along Brefar to W. And S. W. OfMerryman's Head, so many to explore the difficult passage between theOuter Dogs. A sheet of foolscap had been pinned on the outside of theCourt House door inviting volunteers; and while the Councillorsdeliberated they could hear the murmur of the crowd surrounding thenotice and the scratching of pencils as one man after another painfullywrote his name. At intervals--time being precious--Constable Ward wouldstep out, unpin the paper, replace it with a new one, and bring itindoors to the Commandant who was thus enabled to form his crews withdespatch. 

It was during one of these intervals (the Court House door being openfor a moment) that Councillor Tregaskis, happening to glance out at thecrowd from his raised chair, and over the heads of the crowd at theline of distant blue water sparkling in the afternoon sunshine, jumpedup from his seat with an exclamation:

"A yacht, by Gorm!"

"Eh? What?" Fully half the Councillors turned towards him, and cranedtheir necks for a view through the doorway. "A yacht?" The Commandantlaid down his pen and stood up, raising himself a-tip-toe on his daisin the endeavour to gain a glimpse of the horizon from the window highon his right. 

"A steam yacht!"

The Councillors stared one at another, wondering if this new arrivalcould have any possible connection with the Lord Proprietor'sdisappearance. 

"What's her flag?" demanded Mr. Rogers. 

"She carries no ensign, " reported Mr. Tregaskis; "but areddish-coloured square flag--a house-flag, belike. And yet, seemin' tome, she don't look like a private-owned craft. "

"She's the Admiralty yacht from Plymouth, " announced Mr. Rogers, confidently. He had set a chair close to the window and climbed uponit. "Yes, yes--the old _Circe_; I could tell her in a thousand. .. . She's slowing down to anchor; and see, there's the gold anchor on herflag! Listen, now . .. There goes!. .. " Through the open doorway, acrossthe clear water, their ears caught the splash of a dropped anchor, andthe music of its chain running through the hawse-pipe. 

The Commandant rapped the table. 

"Gentlemen, " said he, "oblige me by returning to your places andresuming our business. We shall not advance it just now by catching athopes which may be baseless, though I admit the temptation. That thesevisitors bring us any news of the Lord Proprietor or any that bears, even remotely, upon his disappearance is--to say the least ofit--highly improbable. On the other hand, it is certain that bydetaining Mr. Rogers here we hinder him in the discharge of thosecourtesies which, as Inspecting Commander, he will be eager to pay tothe newcomers. I suggest, then, that we briefly conclude the inquiry, in which he has given us so much help, and allow him to put off to theyacht, while we, restraining our curiosity, take further counsel forthe interim government of the Islands. If"--he turned to Mr. Rogers--"if, sir, our visitors can throw any light on the mystery, Imay trust you to bring them to us with all despatch. "

Accordingly Mr. Rogers, having briefly completed his evidence, wasallowed to depart, and the councillors fell again to the business ofdistributing the crews of the searchboats. 

Meanwhile, in the Court House, it was agreed that supreme control ofthe executive reverted naturally to the Commandant, subject only tosuch power of criticism or restraint as the Council claimed over theaction of the Lord Proprietor himself. The twelve shouted "Aye" to thiswith one voice. 

The Commandant, however, reminded them that he had not yet put theresolution, and that it was doubtful--he spoke as one who, some yearsago, had made a study of these constitutional niceties--"if the Councilof Twelve had really any say in the matter. They could, of course, elect their own President----"

But at this point a noise of women's voices on the quay, followed by aknocking on the door of the Council Chamber, put a period to theimpatience of his auditors. 

The door was opened, and Mr. Rogers appeared on the threshold with atall officer, gaunt and white-haired, in military undress--at firstglance indisputably a person of distinction--standing close behind hisshoulder. 

"I beg your pardon, Mr. President, if we interrupt the Council, " beganMr. Rogers; "but I have brought a visitor here, Sir Ommaney Ward, whohas business with you so soon as the sitting is over. "

"--But who has no desire at all to interrupt it, " added Sir Ommaneycourteously, stepping forward and bowing to the Council. "Goodafternoon, gentlemen! Good afternoon, sir!" He stepped forward to thedais holding out his hand. "Hey? my old friend Vigoureux, have youquite forgotten me, in all these years?"

"Ward!" exclaimed the Commandant, his face brightening with suddenrecognition. A moment later, even more suddenly, it grew gray andhaggard, almost (you might say) with terror. But the visitor did notperceive this. 

"My dear fellow, why not give me the name as it rose to your lips?'Tubby' Ward it used to be in the trenches, eh? Gentlemen"--Sir Ommaneyturned to the Council--"your President and I have interrupted eachother's work before now--as gunner and sapper--under Sebastopol. But Ihave no desire to interrupt yours, knowing how serious it is. Mr. Rogers brought off the news--this disquieting, not to say dumbfounding, news--to the yacht just now; and I hardly need to tell you that it putsmy own errand into the background. Sir, "--he turned to the Commandantagain--"I allowed Mr. Rogers to bring me here only on his surmise thatyour business would be over. If you will give me, having announcedmyself, your leave to withdraw----"

"We shall have done in a very few minutes, " answered the Commandant. His lips were dry, and he marvelled at the careless sound of his ownvoice. He had not a doubt of the true meaning of Sir Ommaney's visit. Nay, the very swiftness with which it followed upon his letter ofconfession proved how serious a view the War Office must take of hiscase. He pulled himself together desperately. "If you will take achair, sir, here on my right, I promise that twenty minutes will see usat an end. "

So the business of the Council was resumed, and the Commandant, stillwondering at his own coolness, took up the thread of his discourse. 

It was, on the whole, an admirable discourse. He had the constitutionalsystem of the Islands at his fingers' ends, and to-day, with despair inhis heart, but thinking nothing of them nor recking at all, heexpounded them lucidly. His words, too, had a real effect upon hishearers; an emotional effect which Sir Ommaney, sitting and listeningseriously, could not but note. 

At the conclusion, Mr. Pope rose again, and proposed, and Mr. Fossellagain seconded, that the supreme government of the islands revertednaturally, for the time being, to the Commandant: so that, forpractical purposes, it may be contended he had spoken superfluously. But, to one who looked beneath the surface, this did not matter. 

The Court rose, with its ancient formalities. "Reginę et insulis ejussit Deus propitius, " said the President, closing the Bible, which atall meetings of the Council lay open on the table before him. "Ita etlaboribus nostris, Amen, " duly responded the twelve Councillors, standing in their places while he walked with his guest to the door. Onthe threshold he faced about, and made them a bow, which they asceremoniously returned. 

Out of doors the afternoon sun shone with a brightness almost dazzlingafter the shade of the Court House; but the tonic north-west wind, blowing across the Roads from Cromwell's Sound, held an autumnal chill, and the Commandant shivered as he halted a moment to con the _Circe_ inthe offing. 

"I travel in state, " said Sir Ommaney, with a laugh, as he followedthis glance; "and with the cabins of half-a-dozen Sea Lords to choosebetween. In point of fact, our department has no boat at Plymouthcapable of performing the passage comfortably: so, my business beingpartly theirs, I applied to the Admiralty, and the Admiralty placedtheir yacht at my disposal. "

The Commandant did not understand; or perhaps he had not been listeningintently. By tacit consent, the pair bent their steps towards the slopeof Garrison Hill. 

"Also, " Sir Ommaney resumed, "the Admiral at Plymouth added a word ofadvice, to take advantage of this spell of weather and make the passageat once. No doubt he had a professional distrust of a soldier'sstomach. Still, he meant it kindly. And that accounts for my arrivingsome days ahead of scheduled time, and dropping into the midst of thisdisquieting business. What's the meaning of it, think you?"

"The meaning of it?" echoed the Commandant. 

"You don't doubt the man fell over the cliffs and killed himself?"

The Commandant shook his head. "I don't doubt his having met with anaccident, " he answered. "But I have some hope of finding him yet, andof finding him alive. "

"To me, that doesn't seem likely. .. . But I want to tell you at oncethat my business can wait. I repeat, I am ahead of time. I can employmyself on board, or get out the steam-launch and explore the Islands;or again (if you will use me), I will gladly make one of a searchparty. "

The Commandant thanked him. "But I have no particular business, at anyrate for an hour or two. The boats have gone, and I leave it to Mr. Rogers to direct the search, now that we have laid down the plan of it. On these occasions, one captain is always better than two. " Sir Ommaneymight talk easily of postponing this or that; but the Commandant, poorman, craved to get the worst over and learn his fate. 

"By the bye, Vigoureux--if you'll not mind my saying so--you handledthat Council of yours admirably. "

The Commandant flushed. "They are old friends of mine, Sir Ommaney. "

"Why, and so am I an old friend; at least, as I supposed. Cannot youmanage to drop the prefix?. .. Very well. .. . And now, if you havenothing better to do, take me over the old fortifications. "

They climbed the hill together to the Garrison gate, and thence, bearing away to the left, started to make the round of the batteries. He flinched as they came to the first--the King George's Battery--andstood by the deserted platform. The bitter humiliation to be here, master of a fortress without one single gun! Almost he dreaded to hearhis guest break forth with a contemptuous laugh. 

Sir Ommaney, however, surveyed the ruin in silence, and when he spokeit was only to ask a question concerning the trajectory of the gunswhich had once furnished it. The Commandant walked by his side, a mantorn by many emotions. For the first time in fifteen years he, anenthusiast in gunnery, had an opportunity to talk with one who reallycared for gunnery and understood it. On the other hand, and eagerly ashe jumped at every question, he could not help perceiving that thesebatteries--of which he had been so proud--of which in recollection hewas yet so proud--were to Sir Ommaney but obsolete toys. This visitorof his, this friend of his gallant youth, had moved with the times, andthe times had carried him to an infinite distance, beyond allunderstanding. Thus, as he moved on from battery to battery, at timesour Commandant talked earnestly, wistfully, and at times fell to adespondent silence; and still between his eagerness and his despondencythe personal question awoke--"He is kind, but he is here to passjudgment on me. What can the sentence be but disgrace?" Arrived at theKeg of Butter Battery, Sir Ommaney seated himself on the low wall, hardby the spot where Vashti had dug at the stones with her sunshade. 

"My dear Vigoureux, " said Sir Ommaney, after a long look seaward, "Ihaven't a doubt you regret your guns, obsolete though you know thatthey were. For that matter, your batteries--their build and their verypositions--are quite as hopelessly out of date. "

"Man, " exclaimed the Commandant, with a sudden rush of blood to theface, "do you suppose I cannot guess why you are here? Oh, for God'ssake let me hear the worst! If for five years I have been an enforcedidler here, do me at least the justice to believe that I know the rangeof modern artillery and something of what a modern battleship can do. Fifteen years ago when I came to take over the command of the Islands, the old _Black Prince_ was the last word in ships and gunnery. Think ofit! Yet, the basis of defence, the simple principle, lies here, and hasalways lain here. If you had come to discuss this----"

Sir Ommaney lifted a hand. "But that is partly--even chiefly--what I amcome to consider. "

"Ah!"

"And I have seen a letter about you, addressed to the War Office by theLord Proprietor: an unfriendly letter, I may say. "

The Commandant's cheeks were already warm with excitement, but at thistheir colour deepened. 

"I beg you to believe, " said he, heartily, "that if Sir Cęsar haswritten about me, my letter was sent without knowledge of it, and in nodesire to anticipate----"

"My dear fellow, " Sir Ommaney interrupted; "I have some little senseleft in my head, I hope. But will you put constraint upon yourself fora moment to forget these letters, to dismiss the personal question, andsimply to resume our talk. "

"I will try, " agreed the Commandant, after a painful pause. "But itwill be hard; harder perhaps than you can understand. Honours have cometo you--deservedly, I admit----"

"And too late, " Sir Ommaney again took him up. "My dear Vigoureux, whenwe knew one another in the old days, honours seemed to both of us themost desirable thing in the world. Believe me, they always come toolate. "

The Commandant looked at him for a moment. "Yes, " said he at length, "we have talked enough of ourselves. And what do we matter, after all?"

They walked back to the Barracks together, side by side, discussing, asone soldier with another, the problem which the one had opened, onwhich the other had brooded in silence for years. 

Arrived at his quarters, the Commandant applied the poker to his fire, motioned Sir Ommaney to the worn armchair, excused himself, and hurriedoff to seek Archelaus and discuss the chances of a cup of tea. 

Sir Ommaney, left to himself, took a glance round the poverty-strickenroom, and stretched out his long legs to the blaze. The evening airwithout had been chilly. The sea-coal in the grate, stirred by theCommandant's poker, woke to a warm glow with a small dancing flame ontop. Sir Ommaney stared into the glow, lost in thought. .. . A tapping onthe pane awoke him out of his brown study. He sat upright, but almostwith the same motion he sprang to his feet as a hand pushed open thewindow behind him. 

There was no light in the room save that afforded by the dancing, uncertain flame. It wavered, as he turned about, upon the figure of awoman entering confidently across the sill, and upon a face at sight ofwhich he drew back almost in terror. 

"Pass, friend, and all's well!" said Vashti, with a light laugh, as sheeffected her entrance. Then, catching sight of the man confronting her, she caught at the curtain, and said, simply, "O-oh!"

"Lord, bless my soul!" exclaimed Sir Ommaney, in a low voice, butfervently. 

"I--I thought you were the Commandant, " stammered Vashti, for once inthis history taken thoroughly aback. 

"Mademoiselle Cara!. .. You? And here, of all places in the world!"

But upon this they both turned, as the door opened and the Commandantstood on the threshold. 

"Miss Vashti!" The Commandant stared from one to the other. 

Vashti broke the silence with her ready laugh. 

"Sir Ommaney Ward and I have met before. He does not know that this ismy native home; but"--she dropped them both a curtsey--"the point isthat you are both to come with me, and at once. "

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE FINDING

The two men followed her out into the darkness and across the turfedslope towards the Keg of Butter. The Commandant, amid much that wasbewildering, guessed that her boat lay moored there, and that she meantthem to accompany her, either to Saaron or to Inniscaw. There was nodanger of meeting anyone by the way, either on the hill or down by theshore; for the search had drawn off all the coastguard. Nevertheless, though he carried a lantern, he did not light it. 

The moon would not be up for an hour yet, but the nor'-westerly breezehad blown the sky clear of clouds. The stars--bright as always when thewind sets over the Islands from that quarter--lent a pale radiance bywhich Sir Ommaney managed to steer his way, and at a fair pace, besidehis more expert companion, and the Commandant, when they reached thecliff-path, lent him a hand. 

"But you don't tell me you have come over from Saaron in thatcockleshell of yours?" asked the Commandant, peering down into thedarkness for a glimpse of the boat. 

Vashti, who was leading the way down the track, turned with a laugh. "No, and for a very good reason. I could not take you two back in her, for she would not carry you, and I could not borrow yours and leave herhere for the coastguard to discover; and again the wind, though it hasfallen, is against us--we shall have to pull, and there would be nosense in towing a boat, even a little one, for we are in a hurry. So Isailed across in Eli's. But please do not deride my poor cockleshell, as you call it; for without her I had never such news as I bring you. "

"When are we to hear it?"

She laughed again as she stooped and found the shore-line ofTregarthen's boat. "Not yet. No, and you need not light the lantern. Weshall want it just before our journey's end; not until then. "

The Commandant helped her to draw in the boat, and they clambered onboard. 

"But surely you don't expect me to steer!" protested Sir Ommaney, gazing blankly around at the darkness, as Vashti directed him to takehis seat in the stern sheets. 

"No, I have unshipped the rudder, and you will have nothing to do butsit still and wonder. " She snugged away the sail. "Now, will you takebow oar or stroke?" she asked the Commandant. "Better perhaps leave methe bow oar and the steering. "

"Might one ask whither?"

"For Inniscaw, and for the landing beneath the Great House. It willgive us the farther to walk, but towards the north of the Island weshall find ourselves in a press of boats. To be sure, no one is likelyto suspect us; it will be supposed that we are joining the search. Still, I would rather run no risks, and the southern landing is almostcertainly deserted. "

She shipped her oar; and as the Commandant set the stroke she took itup with a will. At the fifth or sixth stroke she began to sing--not aset song, but little trills and snatches of melody, as though health, happiness, the joy of living, the delight of swinging to the oar in thecool night air--these together or something compounded of themall--filled her being and bubbled over. 

"You are silent, you two. " She said it almost reproachfully, pausing tothrow a glance over her shoulder and direct the steering. 

"And with excuse. " Sir Ommaney answered. "Who is not mute whenMademoiselle Cara sings? And who, an hour ago, could have promised methat I should hear her sing, in this place, beneath the stars?"

"Few will hear her any more, " said Vashti, lightly. "She is tired ofthe stage and thinks of marrying. "

"Indeed, mademoiselle? And whom are we to congratulate? Who is it thatselfishly appropriates what was meant for mankind?"

"Faith, sir, I cannot tell you, " she answered again, still in the samelight tone. "But I came, just now, to kidnap the Commandant!"

Without giving a chance of reply, she broke into singing again; theair, _Ah, fors é lui_. It gushed from her lips like a very fountain ofhappiness, irrepressible, springing towards the stars in jets andspurts of melody, falling with a ripple in which the music of the starsthemselves seemed to echo; almost in the moment of its fall risingagain, as though it panted with joy--not with weariness, for the spiritof it called impetuously to life. The two men listened, marvelling. Norwhen the song ended was the spell broken; for still, as she pulledtowards the looming shadow of Inniscaw, sinking her voice almost to amurmur, she took up the melody as though in echo, caressing, repeatingit, loth to let it go. 

They came to the dark landing-quay. Sir Ommaney, stepping ashore, stretched out a hand; but she disregarded it, as she disregarded theCommandant's, held out to take the painter and make fast. 

"Thank you"--she stooped, apparently groping among the bottom-boards. "I will moor the boat myself. But wait: I have something for each ofyou to carry. "

In the darkness she passed up a double tackle and a coil of rope. "Ifetched these from Saaron on my way to you, " she explained. "We shallneed them. Have you fairly strong heads for a climb? Very well, then"--she sprang ashore with the painter in her hand, made it fast toa ring above the quay steps, and picked up the lantern. "Now forward!And no talking, please, until we are well past the house and out ofhearing!"

Sir Ommaney picked up the tackle, the Commandant the coil of rope, andthe pair followed her one behind the other. In Indian file they stoleup through the plantations, almost to the foot of the glimmeringterrace; thence, bearing to the left, along dim paths through the mazesof the gardens, thence again through the north-west plantation, and outupon the path which the Lord Proprietor had taken, on his way to NorthInniscaw. Here, on the uplands, the breeze met them, and at his feetSir Ommaney, for the first time, saw spread the wonderful circle of thegreat sea lights. Smaller lights twinkled like a thread of gems alongthe north and north-eastern horizon. They belonged to the boats stillprosecuting the search. 

From the first Vashti had led the way without faltering or appearing tohesitate for a moment. Even when clear of the woods her companionsobserved the prohibition she had laid upon them at the start, andexchanged scarcely a word. 

"You have followed well, " said Vashti, as they reached the foot of PareCoppa. She pointed to the mass of shadow ahead, and the granite blockson the summit faintly touched by the starlight. "I know now what itfeels like to command soldiers, and it feels good. There, by that highrock to the left, our march ends. "

They breasted the slope and arrived at the rock panting, after seven oreight minutes' climb. It was the same on which Sam Leggo had last seenthe Lord Proprietor sitting with his gun across his knees. But why shehad brought them to this spot the two men were as far as ever fromguessing; for almost straight beneath them lay the sea. 

After a minute's rest Vashti lowered herself over the western edge ofthe rock, at the same time warning them to follow with extreme caution;and so all three came to the ledge of the adit. But their business didnot lie here. Indeed, in the darkness neither Sir Ommaney nor theCommandant observed the opening, and Vashti had no leisure to calltheir attention to it. Clambering, still to the left, across a boulderwhich fairly overhung the sea, she struck a match, lit the candle inher lantern, and held it up before a dark hole--a second adit--piercedin the cliff-side and running west, as the other ran south-by-east. 

"Be careful, now!" she warned them again, and ducked her head as sheentered the tunnel, which was scarcely more than five feet high. Theystooped and followed down the slope of it for about thirty yards, andhalted behind her as she waved the lantern over what appeared at firstto be a terrific chasm, opening at her feet. 

"Eli, ahoy! Ahoy, there!" she called. 

"Ahoy!" the voice came up from the depths. "Ahoy, there, Vashti!"

"I have brought the Commandant, with a friend--and the tackle. Shall Ifix it here?"

"That's no work for you, my dear, " called up Eli. "Let them come downif they've heads for it, and afterwards I can climb up and fix it. Or, stay! Let the one come down, and the other bide aloft, to help me. "

"Do you dare?" Vashti asked the Commandant, pointing down to the pit, and then with a wave of her lantern indicating the stairway by which hemust descend. It was a ladder of rope, suspended from an iron bardriven into the solid rock about a foot above the floor-level on whichthey stood. It dangled down into darkness, and the Commandant perceivedto his horror that its iron rungs lay close against the cliff. 

"Surely you are never going down that way?" he asked. 

But Vashti was already stooping to slip off her shoes. 

"You need not follow unless you choose. "

"Where you go, I go. Let me lead the way. "

But while he unlaced and kicked off his boots she had already graspedthe iron bar and swung herself out over the abyss, feeling with hertoes for a rung and a good foothold. 

"For my part, " said Sir Ommaney, controlling with some difficulty thetremor of his voice as he saw her anchored safely for the moment, "I amcontent to smoke a pipe here and wait. For God's sake be careful youtwo!" he added, as the Commandant also gripped the bar, then a rung, and began to lower himself. 

Far below the Commandant could see a light glimmering, drawing fainttwinkles from the wet rock around him. Just beneath him he could hearVashti's hands rhythmically catching at the rungs--down, down. .. . Oncehis feet slipped from the staves, and he hung for a moment by hishand-grip only. Twice Vashti spoke up to him, warning him to press aknee against the rock, and so make room for his toes to catch therungs. .. . At length they reached a point where the ladder hung clear ofthe cliff; but here a hand from below caught it and held it steady. 

"Nervous work, sir!" said Eli Tregarthen, as the Commandant, with agasp of relief, felt his feet touch solid rock. 

"But where are we?" demanded the Commandant; for close at hand soundedthe boom of heavy waves. 

"In Piper's Hole. "

The Commandant stared aloft. Slowly the explanation dawned on him. Theadit, piercing its way from the cliff top, broke through the wall ofthe cave, high up, close to the roof. He turned, and his eyes followedVashti, who had caught up Eli's lantern, and was picking her way acrossthe rocky floor. Presently she bent to a kneeling posture, as the raysfell on what at first appeared to be a long bundle. He hurried afterher, but stopped short with a cry. 

"Sir Cęsar!"

"Even so, my friend. Alive, thanks to our friends here; and, but for ashaking and a twisted ankle, sound as well as safe. Yes, and the ankleis mending, thanks to Miss Cara's skill and a plenty of salt-waterbandages. "

The Lord Proprietor's face was pale as he leaned on his elbow andstared at the Commandant across the lantern. It was scratched, too, andscarred; but it was the face of a sound man. 

"But how in the world----?"

"Easily enough. I was leaning over the cliff above here, with my gunbeside me, when a piece of earth gave way under my head. I went downthe slope head foremost, as I guess, and my coat must have caught inthe gun's trigger-guard. At any rate, it went off, and by the mercy ofHeaven without wounding me; but either the noise of it stunned me orthe fall must have knocked me foolish, for tumbling among the bushesthat grow in the hollow above the cave's entrance, I had not the senseto catch hold, but slid through them, and clean over the edge into thesea. "

"Eh? But pardon me, how can you possibly remember this?" stammered theCommandant. 

"I saw it, " said Vashti, quietly. 

"Oh!" The Commandant stared at her, and began to understand. "So you_were_ the mermaid!"

She nodded. "I happened to be on the rock, outside the entrance, withmy small boat lying in a low spot under its eastern shelter, and so Iput off to him at once. There was a strong run of water into the cave;the depth was not above three feet when the waves ran back. So Iclutched hold of him--though making sure he was dead--and drew him intothe cave, above high-water mark. It was hard work, though not so hardas dragging the boat after us. "

"Why should you want to drag the boat so far?. .. You don't mean to tellme that you have been hiding here, on purpose, while the search hasbeen going on all around you!"

Vashti laughed. "Why, of course we have! I heard you and Mr. Rogerslast night. You were standing together on the very spot over which Ihad hauled the boat: only I had taken the precaution to smooth the sandover the track of her keel. From the ridge of rock there I launched heron the freshwater pool, and paddled her across with the Lord Proprietorsafe on board. I was dreadfully afraid, while I listened to yourvoices, that you would cross the pool and discover her. 

"It lies close?"

"About thirty yards from where we stand. "

"To confess the truth, " put in the Lord Proprietor, "my fall seems tohave knocked some daylight into me, or else Miss Vashti is a witch. While she bound up my hurts we had some conversation together----"

"It was I who did the talking, " interposed Vashti. 

"And that, perhaps, explains why in so short a while I learnt so much. I learnt enough, sir, at any rate, of you and of Eli Tregarthen to makeme suspect that I had done you both some injustice. I was willing tohear more; to prolong the adventure which"--he bowed after a fashiontowards Vashti, and not ungallantly--"had its--er--romantic side. Idecided that if Miss Cara spoke with knowledge, it would do me good tosee myself for a brief while as others in the Islands see me, even tohear what they said of me by way of obituary criticism. "

He paused at a sound on the far side of the cave. It came from theladder; the sound of Eli's hobnailed boots, rung upon rung, as heclimbed aloft towards the adit, to fasten the tackle there. 

"It seems a monstrous height to be swung in air, helpless as a babe. But Tregarthen says it can be done, and I am willing to trust him. Ifat the top you can rig up some kind of litter for me, and convey mehome without noise . .. I have a fancy, and it is also Miss Cara's, thatwe keep the main part of this mystery to ourselves. But who is thehelper aloft there?"

"Sir Ommaney Ward. "

"Hey?"

"Sir Ommaney Ward. "

"The devil! And I sent for him! Forgive me, Commandant----"

"And excuse me, Sir Cęsar, but I prefer to believe he is here becausemy letter brought him. "

The Lord Proprietor held out his hand. 

"Will you take it, Commandant? Miss Cara has told me of that letter. You are a good man, and I have wronged you. "

CHAPTER XXIX

CONCLUSION

Three years and a few months have passed. The date is Easter Monday(Easter falls early this year), and from the Keg of Butter Battery theCommandant, as he stands looking seaward, hears the school-bell ringingin the town at the foot of Garrison Hill, though the school has beenclosed a week since for the Easter holidays. 

He hears it, but for a while pays no attention to it, though it keepsding-dinging insistently. His eyes are bent on the sea; yet not in thedirection of Saaron, where, if they sought carefully, they might detecta trace of smoke coiling up from the fold of the hills which hides EliTregarthen's farm; but westward, towards the main, whence the steamerwill arrive before nightfall. She is not due for hours, yet theCommandant's gaze searches the horizon. 

The Keg of Butter Battery mounts no guns as yet It is no longer theruined platform above which Vashti sat on the crumbling wall and pokedat the wild thyme with her sunshade. The Government contractor hastransformed it: the wall has disappeared, and a smooth glacis slopesfrom the Commandant's feet over hidden chambers, constructed to housethose quick-firing guns. The chambers are ready: the guns will arrivewithin a week. It is not for them, however, that the Commandant scansthe horizon so intently. 

Although it is holiday-time, the bells in the town below are ringing tothe school-house; but the school-house is filled with flowers. Twoyears ago the Lord Proprietor called his Islanders together, andexplained how he hoped to bring back prosperity to the Islands by meansof daffodil culture. For an experiment, he offered to present athousand Dutch bulbs to every cottager who would give them soil andcultivation, and to-day the Islanders celebrate their first daffodilshow. 

In years to come, as the trade increases, the market will keep them toohappily busy to waste time on exhibitions. We see them, and we partwith them, on the eve of prosperity. So much, at any rate, has grown ofthe few bulbs carried by Archelaus for a peace-offering. 

 * * * * *

The Commandant takes out his watch, discovers that it is close upontime for the opening ceremony, and descends the hill in a hurry. At theschool-house door he meets the Lord Proprietor, and they shake hands asthey enter the building together. But after going the round of thestalls, the Lord Proprietor looks up. 

"She is coming this afternoon, is she not?"

"She is coming, " says the Commandant, and looks forth from the openwindow over the sea. 

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