CHAPTER XXIV.

Clutha Leader, Volume I, Issue 32, 18 February 1875, Page 7

CHAPTER XXIV.

MR ANDREW GILBERT RECEIVES SORROWFUL INTELLIGENCE—THE SHIP -'J^INKER REPEATS A PROVERB, THE / OF WHICH HE IS LIKELY TO ' REALISE. After the fatigues and anxieties of the day, Mr Andrew Gilbert, the Glasgow underwriter, was sitting in his own room in his private residence at York Hill, solacing himself with a tumbler of toddy, and trying, but not very successfully, to rid his mind of certain uneasy thoughts which had for some time been occupying it. Being a bachelor, his home was rather a solitary one, and if his temperament had been naturally moody or discontented, he had ample opportunity for nursing it when he spent his long quiet evenings in the house. But by nature he was cheerful and happy —a most unlikely man to remain a bachelor; and it was suspected by his friends that a love disappointment in early life was the cause of his celibacy. If it were so, he never alluded to it, and received with his usual good humour the many banterings to which he was subjected on account of his solitary condition. Of late, however, Mr Gilbert's rubicund face had worn a grave and anxious aspect, and some serious subject evidently occupied and troubled him. He had lost his accustomed heartiness of manner, and both at home and in his private room at his place of business, he fell into fits of abstraction, which made those about him wonder what could be wrong. But as he said nothing, no one felt at liberty to ask him the cause of his trouble, or even to show him that his trouble was observed. Its cause, however, lay in the fact that a long time had now elapsed since the sailing of the Friends, and nothing had been heard of tbe vessel. Not that the fate of the vessel itself gave him any great concern, but he was anxious on Victor Moredant's account. He, and he alone, knew of that young gentleman having sailed in the ship, and being aware of the difficult and dangerous mission he had undertaken in doing so, he was extremely uneasy because no tidings had been received. In one sense this was a hopeful sign, for it might signify that the suspicions he had entertained against M'Dougal and Menzies, the owners of the vessel, were unfounded, and that the Friends had proceeded on her voyage to Trinidad in quite an innocent way. If that were so, and if all was right, the absence of tidings was not surprising, for sufficient time had not yet elapsed for the ship to sail to her port and return. Mr Gilbert tried hard to believe chis, and to rest in such belief but somehow the effort failed. His impression of foul play being practised in connection with the foundering of so many of these men's ships was a strong one, and he blamed himself severely for having allowed Victor to engage in such a hazardous undertaking. Those on board might have discovered that the youth was not a sailor, as he pretended to be—they might suspect the purpose for which he was there, and have done him some deadly violence —a result which would weigh heavily on the underwriter's conscience for ever, for he would feel that he was responsible for the youth's untimely fate. Xnd how was he to break the sad news to his father ? How tell him in what way, and in whose cause, his son had perished. The thought was unendurable ; and we do not wonder that the kind-hearted old man was a prey to sad and anxious thoughts. As he sat now in the solitude of his chamber, sipping his toddy, his lonely meditations were .more than usually depressing. Even the toddy failed to cheer "or comfort him,~ and he gave a nervous start when a violent ring came to the door bell betokening a visitor of some importance, or one whose business was urgent. It was a late hour for any visitor to arrive, and he waited with impatience till the stranger should be announced. v Ha, it may be Victor himself," he exclaimed, with a sudden brightening of countenance. "Heaven grant it — Heaven grant it." The eager hope was destined to be terribly disappointed, when the door opened, and the servant announced " Mr John M'Dougah? "Good Heavens," ejaculated Mr Gilbert, as a horrible sinking 1 of heart seized him, accompanied by a fearful foreboding. ; He grew pale as death, and sank back in the chair from which he had lialf risen, while at the same moment M^Dougal entered the room wearing an- aspect of violent distress. " Oh, Mr Gilbert—Mr Gilbert," cried the visitor, wringing his hands with every demonstration of the wildest grief. " What is it !'* exclaimed the underwriter, springing now entirely from, his chair. - *' More., disasters— more disasters. Oh, surely never were such misfortunes known." "Speak, man—speak: *s \t the .Friends T . " ,;/ . v The_" iHenjds ancl the Mary. JBoili lO3t--¥Qifcio.st." " r Wifh' »'.:'|opd ".orji pf despair: Mr dropped again into his se^t.

"I don't wonder at your horror, Grilbert. It is dreadful, overwhelming, ruinous — absolutely ruinous. And to think that the news of the double loss should come in one day, and, worst of all, on this day, when poor Menzies had just left town to be married. Pretty news I have had to send after him, and he a bridegroom." " When, how, where was she lost ?" gasped his listener " The Mary — why, you know she sailed for — " "The Friends— it's the Friends I mean." a Well, but you know they are both insured, though not to their value. Oh, dear ! not nearly to their value. Still, it will break the blow, it will make the loss less. Forty thousand is the sum for which the two ships and their cargoes are insured, and though they were worth much more yet—" tf The crew, are they saved ?" cried Mr Gilbert, with agonising eagerness. " The officers and crew of the Mary are all safe, but j think Duncan in his despatch says something of three of the Friends' hands being lost." " Oh, heaven ! which of them ? Does he give their names ?" " Upon my soul, Gilbert, you are a feeling-hearted man, to be thinking more of the three poor fellows who have perished than of your own loss. It does you credit, sir,* it does you great credit " " Their names — their names ! Quick, tell me their names !" said the other, trembling in every limb with '. agitation- ' " Really I do not know their names, but they may be given in the despatches," returned M'Dougal, as he drew forth a packet official of papers, the large seals of which were broken ; and, with an unsteady hand — for he also was much agitated, though from a different cause — began to spread them out on the table. " From these papers," he went on, " I learn that the Friends foundered in the open sea after a tremendous gale. All on board escaped in the boats, and, j after drifting for days, landed on a desert island, where they remained for some time in a starving condition, till taken off by a Spanish vessel bound for Coxhaven, and carried there. The three men perished on the island — of hunger, I suppose. See, here is Duncan's affidavit certified by the Dutch Consul j and he and his men were to sail in the first ship the first ship they could get bound for Britian. I expect he will arrive in Glasgow immediately." " Yes, yes, he will come no doubt, but will you look if he gives the names of the three men ?" " Oh, the men who died. Let me see. Where does he mention about them ? Yes, here it is — * Three of the men whom I placed at one of the lookout stations were lost, having been swept from a high rock into the sea during a heavy gale.' " '• Ah, they did not perish of hunger then, but by an accident," commented M'Dougal, altogether oblivious of the agonising suspense with which his listener was regarding him. He was considerably astonished when the latter clutched his arm with spasmodic energy, and said in a voice full of emotion — " Go on, go on !" " Bless me, how you startle one. It is really very humane of you, Gilbert, to be so much concerned about these poor fellows. Their names, I see, are — Hilloa. that ia indeed unfortunate." " What ?" gasped Mr Gilbert. " The first mentioned was one of the most active fellows in ths ship — Jeff Mopper. He has been several voyages with Dunaaß, and was a most trustworthy fellow. lam sorry he is one of them. The others are Jack Blossom and Charles Wing-ate. Ah, I remember them. They were two new hands whom Duncan shipped a few days before he sailed. Blosssom seemed to be an old, experienced sailor j the other was a young", good-looking fellow, who did not,seem_to -have Sj3en_ much ,of ; the sea. .Well, the voyage has been an unlucky one for them, at all events, and — Hilloa, Gilbert, what's the matter with you? .Good .heaven ! you seem to be very ill. Have you •taken a fit? Shall I ring for assistance?" " No, no. This— this: dreadful affair has upset me," gasped the underwriter, whose face had paled to the hue of ashes, while his aspect otherwise was alarming enough no suggest the idea of apoplexy. ' ■ i "Here, drink that," exclaimed I M'Dougal, holding- to his lips, the/half^ .filled tumbler which stood on the table. But Gilbert waved the glass aside, and, ; rising to his feet with a deep groan, paced the room in excessive agitation, j every look and gesture betraying the most potent anguish. .. - - The crafty traitor could, not • look unmoved on the victim of his frauds,; overwhelmed^ as he. thought, by the heavy loss lie, as underwriter, had. to sustain. M'Dougal was, at the same ; time, secretly glad to.notieel that lbo suspicion appeared to .enter Gilbert's mind. It is a. crushing How to-us all," he whined. v: " These- misfortunes one after aridther are enough 1 to drive' any one mad. But what"" can we do buF submit -I^thoughti it test :to. coma to j you the moment.-} got . .the.. news, as! as you are, next to; Menses; m&MjsM tjie chief loser. But, of course, I will cpme to the. meeting pf underwriters :' i " " ;■' •. r =;/;-- r i v : a.".v: •■:••.:"'-■. ■;■"•

to-morrow, and leara there what' is to be done." '*• Yes, yes; to-morrow," said Gilbert, in faltering- tones. "We can say nothing' to-night. Pray leave me, M'Dougal. I would be alone to think' over this." "Quite natural, sir — quite natural. It is a heavy loss to us all. I was distracted when the intelligence reached me. We must just hope for better luck next time. That is how I try to console myselfj though I find it hard to do. Ah, you are impatient, I see ; so I shall intrude no longer. Good-night, Mr Gilbert ; don't trouble to ring ; I shall easily find the way out — good night." The moment he was gone the underwriter tottered towards his chair, and, sinking heavily into it, covered his face with his hands, while his bowed head fell on his knees. Oh, God," he groaned, "my worst fears are realised That boy — that poor boy dead — dead ! Why — oh, why did I consent to his going ? lam the cause of his death. I would rather have 'lost the insurance on twenty ships than that he should have perished." We need not further describe the old man's bitter sorrow since we know that the youth whose fate he mourned was not dead, but was on his way to Scotland, and will soon appear, to turn his sorrow into joy. But meantime his sorrow was deep enough — deeper far than anything he had known, for with it was mingled self-reproach and perplexity. Victor Moredant had sailed on the voyage which had proved his death with his sanction, for his benefit, and known to no one but himself. Of the youth's fate no one could know till he told it, and how could he tell it ? He could not do so without also disclosing the object which he had in shipping on board the Friends in the disguise and character of a common sailor, and this was to cast an imputation on M'Dougal and Menzies which he had no means of justifying. The result would simply be ruinous to his honour and his credit as an underwriter, and would strike a blow at ail the underwriters in the country. Mr Andrew Gilbert was, therefore, sore beset on every hand — in secret he had a heavy burden to bear, and to his sorrow was added the perplexity of not knowing what to do. It was in truth so woful a position for his honest, upright nature to sustain that it would soon have utterly prostrated him had he been destined to bear the weight of it long. But, fortunately for him, events were thickening and crowding on to a crisis which would relieve him of his load of suffering,. and produce a public interest and sensation of unparalleled character. When M'Dongal left Mr Gilbert, and had got outside of Yorkhill House, he walked quickly away on the road to Glasgow, and took out'his handkerchief to wipe the perspiration from bis brow, for the interview with the underwriter had put a strain upon his nerves of which the other had little idea. The terror of suspicion, the danger of discovery racked his guilty soul, and when he saw the agitation into which the news of the loss of the ships had thrown one of the principal victims of. the frauds, his fear was increased tenfold. "Gad, this is too bold a stroke to have ventured," he said to himself, as he walked along. " Two ships at once makes the hazard fearful. Both of course we did not expect that the news of both vessels would come in one day. Duncan's plans must have miscarried sqmehow, else the foundering of the! Friends would have come to light, two 1 months ago. It looks like a bona fide affair when they drifted , in the boats and were almost starved on an island. Yes, that is a grand feature for us, but it makes me all the more certain that some mischance took place. The death of Jeff makes it all the more likely. Duncan l s 'letter says thai; he and the other two, were swept,, from ,the rock maa gale, but I half expect '-fr^'U/giyji -toe: -a different version when he turns up! He and BaQnatyne,ha.d, I know, begun to distrust Jeff— feared he knew too and possibly, they have taken I means to get rid of him. •" I wish D'mir ; can were arrived, for, of cours," the "insurance, .won't 'be paid till' he. ;cpro,e,,; This shall," this must be, the last. Menz;es, of; course,. -won't, go ifctd it again. His lucky marriage with the heiress of-Beech^wqqd makes yhyii iri^e,-^ pe^tol i>£ suotf rislqp $p:e|ul&tjqn'S; a£d( he has daclared' he won't malce ano'ttieV venture/' ' .Nor" will L ' = Once we) bag this I^am dpnejwttjh if.; We liave~ been' successful as jet] but t^ere is; a, proverb which - says t^t t^e\ pitcher may ' go once" c \o'q\ often to tne well. No; I'll 'not ventur^ again. I am .resolved . pn,. that;' V _~ „ r _. : lQ -, . r v ; ; "Arid' "hefstairmeS his 'foot i^rmly .on, theigrp^nd asdtiito: . seaLihe. TegpliitioV h;ehadmade-7-to seal •itagamsMl'&tai£ temptation to, break it,. „., „„ ; r ..;? ; j, ' An^hacifre known; it, "he']p.ey§r\'^s& to rhaye, an :oppottuQ% L vpj&;:brßiilsdbig( tjiis fear-produced resolution; 1 'kribvbi it, the pitchWhad '^ire&Sy^gtiM once too often to .^wfiUj an^^w^.^e^r turning broken, o : ;-.-■<-[■/ j,o .b^';f& K - " Witkw ; a ! weekiDiiiicait)and oiUims*; tyne arrived in Glasgow* aind^M'Bdti- 1 "gal arifr they met r iti Wci*eFfeoi£ claye,.the J^tt^'repeiybtfthi, t WhfrtoVf oJTtiiHdyl&a. <WW tM'ew"w^t apt &eeft£ua^so, (ga).v 0 a% \fa* intended, when -the deed,, waa at length done, 1 they h'a4 f^l§d find-fi?,="-:n') .? "»•:'* t T;oi7j ,:fi:i'i , e y. i: d ozivri

the other vessel in the fog. He was. told also; of. the.circumstanc_e&.attendingthe scuttling, and how the murder of Jeff had been prevented by: Charley • Wingate ; how on the : island.they were told by Jeff that Charley and" Jack Blossom had been witnesses 61 the deed; and how all three had been left to perish ;shut up in the cave on the desert island. • ; . ; •' " So you see we were able to make it saft at last," added Bannatyne, with a ferocious chuckle. " Yes> safe at last," echoed M'Dougal, but he shuddered at the thought of the danger which had been averted, and inwardly repeated his resolution to relinquish the profitable but perilous game they had been playing.