CHAPTER XXXIV.

Clutha Leader, Volume XII, Issue 597, 25 December 1885, Page 7

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE "LARKSPUR'S" EXTRA HAND. Their short stay at the far-famed Rock of Gibraltar might have passed pleasantly enough to the little party on board the Larkspur had it not been for the — to Mountnessing and his mother — unaccountable waywardness and perversity of Blanche. She was an enigma to tbera. There was everything here that they had thought would rouse and enliven her. There was the cheerful companionship of their old friend Tom ; .there were the hospitalities and gaieties of the garrison to be enjoyed ; there were excursions to the diiferent objects of interest in the neighborhood to" be made, but noue of the_e could win Blanche back to anything like her old self. All these apparently foolish whims they bore with patiently, as being the. mere idle fancies and crotchets of an invalid ; but to each other, mother and son confided that, sometimes, their patience was sorely tried .at finding all their plans to. amuse and inspirit her, persistently marred by Blanche herself. First of all, a riding-party to the cork woods, a few miles distant, was organised by Tom ; then a pic-nic over at Algesciras, on tlie other side of the Bay ; then a riding-trip to Ronda, up amongst the Andalusian highlands, besides many other similar jaunts, were all'got up for her "express behoof, but to each, and every one, Blanche pleaded an excuse. Nearly the whole of her day was occupied in writing to Fane, telling him, as he had asked her to do, every trifling little incident of her life. When not. thus engaged, she would sit on deck under the awning, reading or working. Sometimes in the cool of the evening she would be pressed into taking a stroll on the Alameda to listen to the band, but on these occasions she always kept as close to her mother's side as a poor little sick chicken to its. hen-mother's wing. She recollected that day when Tom had ridden from the barracks for leave, how Fane had, on the simple grounds of her being alone with, him as a visitor for a few moments, worked himself up into a painful fit Of jealousy ' and she determined that no letter of hers should ever contain the description of an action or a circumstance which could, by any possibility, be twisted into a cause for jealous fear, or give him a moment's pain or uneasiness. If she had happened to ride, or walk, or talk alone with Tom Bullkley, or any other man, she would have felt bound to mention the circumstance' in her next letter, for she had not only promised to tell him everything, but Fane was always calling out for more particulars, more details. 4 Every little trifle, no matter how small, about yourself is interesting to me. Keep nothing from me,' was the burden of almost all his letters. With the observance of so difficult and delicate a task in view, she was sometimes forced to shirk Tom's society in a way which was not only marked, — and how it cut her to the heart to do it ! — but even rude ; so much so, that one night it actually led to a slight breach of the peace between herself and her brother. Mountnessing had been dining with Tom up at the mess, and on his return to the yacht at about one o'clock in the morning,- found, to his surprise, Blanche sitting on deck. 4 Why, Blanche, what are you doing here? j ' I never sleep very well, now, Harry, aud it was warm below, so, I thought it would be much pleasanter to sit up here. I'm well wrapped np,

and the awning is still spread, and | keeps off crny dew.' '

Mountnessing lit a fresh cigar, and sat dovvn*on a low deck stool at "her feet.

• Well, you are a queer, girl ! Last night, when at was much hotter than, it is to-night, and Tom Bullkley was 'having a, quiet smoke up here with me, and we wanted you to stay, you said you preferred being below, and went, though. I begged you to stop. . Look here, Blanche, have you any particular objections to Tom Bullkley 1 Do you dislike him % Upon my word, your conduct sometimes makes me think so.' The blood rushed tumultously from Blanche's aching heart to her cheeks, and she remained silent. . In the midst of her agitation she had enough presence of mind to feel thankful that the startling question had been put to her in the dark. <Do you, Blanche ¥ - 'No, Harry. But— but ' • But — what 1 ?' he asked, impatiently. 4 Well, I think,' she answered, nearly breaking clown a.t every word ; 'I think, perhaps, that when one is feeling unstrung and weak, he i_ a little too full of life — too off-hand, perhaps.' 4 Too full of life ! Upon my word, you speak of him as f he were a great ; rough . shaggy Newfoundland dog ! Why, Blanche, I've noticed, particularly, that Tom's manner to you since we've been here and he has seen that you're not well, has been more tender and gentle than any woman's could, have been.' j She knew it well. She knew that there never had been a word of his that had seemed to her out of season • not a tone of his voice but what had always sounded soft and sweet in her ears, and she felt now that unless she took a sudden leap in the opposite extreme, her feelings would carry her away for the moment, and there would be a breakdown. 4 Well, I don't care for him much, now • and I don't see why I should always be troubling myself to be polite to him.' She managed to get these words out, somehow • but they nearly oboked-bftr, and the tone of her own voice, as she j uttered them, jarred strangely and j harshly upon her. Mountnessing rose impatiently to his feet. ' Well, look here, Blanche, if you can give the cold shoulder to a friend, I can't ; and I'll tell you what, I've determined upon going for a. week's l cruise, and I've asked Tom -to accompany us ; so you'll have to do your besfc to conquer this repugnance * 'or, at all events, I hope you'll have the j good breeding not to skoio it while he's our guest.' So saying, Mountnessinir turned on his heel and paced the deck furiously. . Her brother's wrath was only a flai->» in the pan. ' ' Look here, Blanchie,' he said to her, after a few turns, ' I didn't mean to speak roughly or unkindly to you, and I was a brute to make you cry. But, really, I couldn't help standing up warmly for an old friend. I have asked Tom, and Brunton, and young Trevor to come with us, and if it's distasteful to you, I'm very sorry ; but I can't well put them off now, so ', you'll make the best of it, won't you ¥ 4 Pray don't think me wayward or selfish, Harry * but can't you postpone the trip 1 I don't feel getting any better here. I think I'll go back to i Fane at once. Then you can do just as you like, Harry, clear. But do put them off for the present ¥ 4 But .why, Blanche, why? Surely you yourself must see what an unreasonable request it is for you to make.' . ' ' No, it's not, Harry. I have rea-. sons.' # ' Well, what are they ¥ 'Why, in the first place, I don't think Fane would like it. He's so particular, and ■ ' 4 Fane be — ' commenced the young man, with considerable warmth. | 4 Hush, Harry ! You don't under- i stand these things.' ' You're perfectly right, I don't, and I'll eat my hat if I ever will. Not like it ! Not like his wife to associate, in a friendly way with three gentlemen, in company with her own mother and brother !' The idea is-preposterous, Blanche, and it's absurd of you to humor these nonsensical notions of his.' 4 Well, please don't enter into the question, Harry. You'll- promise me, though, won't you ¥ '- No. I don't see why, if you choose to make a fool of yourself in obedience to Fane's whim, / should aid and abet you. - . 4 Harry, promise me !' There was something in her pleading tones that made, her brother- though with rather an ill grace and with many muttered imprecations -oh Faiie'shead, at last accede to her. request; and/ be fore they parted he not only promised this, but also agreed that they ' should" leave Gibraltar for good in; two clays' time. He made one stipulation, how--ever, and that was, that -Tom -and his two friends should be asleep to -dine en the following evening, their last at Gibraltar, , " • •-"■'',.•'

The next morning, ;at an early hour, Mountnessing went up to the Barracks to withdraw the ; invitation of the previous evening, 'and announce vhe'L^rk-

spur's', speedy departure, ascribing both to his- sister's delicate health. Any' awkwardness ? he Plight have felt in: the former task was at once put to flight, by Tom,, witli his usual heartiness and innate tact, and the three friends, after expressing their sympathy : for the cause of the sudden- change in the arrangements, readily accepted the invitation to dinner.

That night, at about the same hour that pn the previous one Blanche, and her brother had held their colloquy, the deck of the ' Larkspur ' was again the. scene of rather an important passage in our story.

Lady Mountnessing ' and Blanche had retired some time previously,- and the young host, with Tom, Brunton, and "Kit Trevor, sat smoking and talking. The night was very still, and as the yacht lay quietly on the bosom of the ocean, there was only just enough motion in her to keep them deliciously conscious of being afloat on the cool sea, instead of gasping on shore amongst the mosquitoes.

Under this soothing influence, combined with the equally soothing one of tobacco, conversation was carried on in a lazy, dreamy sort of way. Mountnessing and Brunton talked together, while Tom and Kit Trevor, in low terms, conversed, as they often did, on the subject of Clennell's disappearance. The poor fellow had not been given up or forgotten by his friends. Their efforts to trace him had never ceased, and were still being made ; but not the slightest clue had hitherto rewarded their exertions.

' I say, Mountnessing, who's that fellow you've got on board with a red shirt and a cut-throat kind of a face ¥ asked Tom, apropos of suddenly catching sight of the individual in question, lounging about in the fore part of the little vessel.

'Oil, he's a fellow I picked np at Naples. Two or three of my men got knocked over with the fever there, and I had to leave them in hospital, and, as we were rather short of hands, I shipped a couple from there, "and this is one of them. He is a. mongrel sort of a breed — a cross ].ies*veen an Italian, a Greek, and . a Corfiote.' However, they're a sort that make pretty good sailors, except that in a squall — aiid we came in for one or two snorters on our way here — they're' rather given to going down on their marrow-bones, when you're on your beam .ends, and promising candles to the Virgin Mary, instead of reefing or going aloft.'

1 He's always looking at me,' said Tom, 4in a queer sort, of way, whenever I'm on board, from under those shaggy eyebrows of his, as if he wished to say something to me, and didn't know how to begin. I can't make the fellow out. What's his name ¥

4 Francesco,' replied Mountnessing. ( I don't know any more' about the

beggar than what I've told you. I dare say he's an unmitigated scoundrel — he looks like -it — but he's a useful enough hand, when he can ■ keep from his candles, and my cAe/says he's a bit of a cook too. He's converted half the crew into a sort of lazzaroni, and makes macclieroni for them. Talking of that sort of thing, let's go down and have some grilled bones. It's about two o'clock.'

4i" shan't go down,' said Tom. 4 1 see that fellow for'ard, I think.'

' Yes, that's him. We've only one man on tlie look-out in harbor, and I suppose it's his turn to-night. Well, if you won't come down, Tom, you won't, I suppose. Or perhaps you'll follow us after you've wormed this dreadful secret out of the fellow.' • Perhaps,' said Tom. ' But I'm determined I'll give him a chance, if he's got anything to say, of saying it.' As soon as the others had descended Tom "strolled 4 for'ard,' and leaned over the bulwarks. The man cast a few furtive glances at him, and cleared his throat several times. . Tom noticed tbe glances and the preparatory coughs, and waited. At last the man approached closer, aud said — 4 1 have heard your name before, signor. ' 5 Yes.' ' . '• ' 'I would speak to. your excellency.' 'Well, go on.' The man twisted his moustache, pulled his beard, rumpled his fuzzy hair np, and seemed at a loss to know how to begin. 1 T have had strange things happen ! to me, signor,' at length he said. Tom began to think tbat, perhaps, , after all,, the man, being a foreigner, felt strange and lonely with the rough English crew, and was only anxious to talk a little to some one who wouldn't curse him or laugh at him, so he said, kindly—'' 4 Yes, and how did you manage to pick up so much English?' '. 4 Ah, signor, I. sailed many times in the yachts 1 with the English officers when they were at Corfu! Those were the times when one could get a living ■honestly.'.. 4 Well,' you're ea'tmiug. your bread, or rattier y _"_!?_ . macclieroni, in .ni lich". the" same way now, -aren't you ¥ said Tom. ; ' Yes,- now 1 am, signor ; but a short time agOT— your excellency won't be-' tray jne? . . • ..---.■- ,*-Np, go .on? .: - „- :':-'. .- v . ./ V 4 Three , mo.n ths ago, signor, I was not earning my living so honestly as this. T was one pf a band of robbers up in the Albanian mountains.' i 4 . j A;^neat;;ai;ticie; I should* have

thought as much from the look of you^f^l soliloquised Tom.' * Weir?' : ' X ; .:- r ,^M; 4 Well, ' signor, I ran away from 'ii them.'' ' ; ■ V '.",.''■".' ■""•:'■ > - > V-

4 Didn't approve of the mode "of life, eh? „ i ■■'."-- ••'■'*

4 No, signor, and I was afraid for my < life of the old chief, who could, ste ;•'" right through a man, I believe, and ' know what he; was thinking about; and. he always seemed to know I wasn't. regularly one of tbe'n. About three months before I .left, signor, some of the band brought iv an Englishman one evening as a prisoner. / But the chief seemed to know him, and treated him as a friend instead of a prisoner • and they sat up half the night talking and drinking whisky, and' l heard a few words every now and then, but 1 couldn't catch .much; except that they were plotting to "get another Englishman - tjvev-?-) for which the stranger was to pay something to the chief. Well, a few nights after- . wards, a young Englishman was brought in, dead, as I thought- at first. He was slung on a pole, and carried on two men's shoulders; his feet were torn aud cut, and bis clothes were all bloody from the pricks of their yataghans, which they had used to make him go on when he had tumbled 'down or. fainted on the road — — '

4 Great God ! it was Fred Clennell ! I know it was !' exclaimed Tom, sensing the man with a grip that terrified him, and made him mentally promise twelve candles on the spot. *Goon !' said Tom, relaxing his hold, and recovering his self-possession.

4No harm will come to me, . your excellency ¥ whined the Francesco. \

4 No, no, go on !' said Tom.

4 Yes, signor, his name was Clennell. He was flung down, signor, like a dead pig, just at the entrance of the cave, where it was cold and damp, and, after a few minutes, he became' sensible. He looked as if" he had had the fever strong on liim, for, he was as thin as a skeleton, and so white/ I thought that what between the fever and the pricks of the yataghans.. there was no blood left in him at all,, until the, chief came up, and laughed and spat in his face ; and then, signor, it came with a rush into tag ehaekA, and fire seemed to come out of his eyes, and* he tried to move his hands, but they were tied too tight ; and the ' chief laughed again, and said, 44 Ah, it's lucky your eyes aren't yataghans, or they \Vould be through me !" ' -

The muscles of Tom's face worked, and his eyes flashed, as > poor Fred Clennell's must have done, as he heard of the brutal insult. ~ • Poor ' Fred !' he said, 'they couldn't crush y our. Spirit out, although they tied and -bound you ; but we'll wipe that insult' out before we're much older. Go on!' he continued, fiercely.

Francesco started at the tones, mentally promised a few more candles, and was about to resume. -;

'. Stay/ said Tom. 'Do you know the name of the Englishman, • if he could have been one, who plotted with the old robber ¥

4 ' 4 Helstone," I heard him say it was, signor, when he was first brought before the chief. 4 ' Don't you recollect' me T he said. 44 I'm Consul Helstone's son."'

( Helstone — Helstone — the very name ! I had forgotten it — I see it all now. And what become of him, do you know ¥

4 He went away a short time before the young Englishman was brought in, together with one of the band ; but I don't know where he went to, signor. ' 4 Accounts will have to he settled with him wherever' he is,' said Tom, with bis teeth set. 'Go on about the other !'

4 He was left all night on the damp ground, and I pitied him, signor, for I had sailed with English oflicers, and they had always treated me ..kindly ; and when every one was asleep in the cave, I took spine whisky and water, and washed his lips, and poured a little down his throat '

Tom here nodded approvingly on Francesco, which had such a reassuring effect upon him, that he, at once, mentally retracted his promises of the candles, and launched out into such a highly-coloured and long-winded description of his own many acts of benevolence towards the captive, that Tom was obliged to get at once to the real state of affairs by a series of ques- . tions. 4 How long is it since you left ¥ : , i *■- About three months, signor? • 4 He was alive then ¥ 4 Yes, signor.' ' ' 4Do you think it probable, from what you saw of him then, that he's alive now V 4 Yes, your excellency ; for if the treatment he got when I was there did not kill him, nothing but steel or lead would do it. I heard, too, the chief • promise the other' Englishman that there should be no violence.' 4 Could you guide me to the place ¥ Francesco fumbled* muttered, crossed himself, and offered 'no reply.

. (To be, continued) .*' . -,'*.-'

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