FICTION.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1685, 15 June 1904, Page 3

FICTION.

CAPTAIN SHEEN, ADVENTURER

AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE OF NEW ZEALAND,

(BY CHARLES OWEN.)

ALT, RIGHTS RESERVED.

CHAPTER V.

We reached Bristol at five o’clock at night and my first sight of the port was in the falling dark. The Captain took me down to a sSaman’s tavern near the docks, so that we might be amongst the .shipping. It was all so strange after the life of a quiet country village; a fit beginning for adventure. The smell of tar, the dimly lighted quay, the forest of tall masts tapering skyward, the bustle of shifting cargo and the babel of foreign tongues conspired to cast a glamour over the enterprise on whicn I had embarked and still further stim ilated my ambition. “We’ll drop anchor for the night, said the Captain, so soon as we had hired our rooms, “and first thing tomorrow we’ll make -for Master Martin Coulished.” - “Who’s he?” I asked. “An old mate of mine,” answered Sheen with ja meaning smile, “who has what we want and must be made to part with some of it. I think he’ll lay down enough to fit out the craft for old acquaintance sake. If not I know how to put the sci'ew on. You’ll see. Ah, I’ve had some good mates in my time, I have.” It struck even my inexperience as being poor security on which to obtain so large a sum of money, and so it proved. “Old acquaintance,” in the Captain’s language, meant much more than friendship, He had lost his jauntiness and had assumed a dignified air, more suited to the position he had taken upon himself. He seemed to know very few people in Bristol. We rose early the next morning, and the Captain showed me the shipping, pointing out the different ngs and answering many questions which my curiosity prompted. About ten o’clock we * turned our footsteps towards the suburbs of the town. He said very little on the way, a distance of about a mile, and I suspected lie was planning a dramatic meeting with his friend. * “Martin Coulished,” he said once, and

there was spite in his tone, ‘‘is a selfish man, Caspar. We were partners a while back in a small cargo when old Dan Sheen had the money and he had the experience. We’ve changed places. It’s Coulished’s turn to find the money this cruise. I’ll guarantee the experience.” We stopped at last in front of a largo brick house, at the door of which Sheen knocked loudly. He was answered by a rather slovenly-looking servant girl. “Mr Coulished at home?” he asked, pushing his foot into the partly open doorway. “Not at home,” she answered curtly.

“Oh, yes, he is,” he contradicted.

'‘lf you knew why did you ask?” she retaliated. The' Captain returned a knowing smile. “Tell Mr Coulished that Captain Daniel Sheen desires to see him/' he said, ignoring her question. She left us, returning in a minute two.

‘.‘Mr Coulished declines to see Captain Sheen,” she said, making an effort to shut the door. “Oh, does he?” exclaimed the Captain, with assumed surprise. “Well, well! Declines to see Captain Sheen! He’s taking a nap, perhaps? No! Wsll just mention 1798 to him* will you? I'm sorry to trouble you to go backwards and forwards but you must blame Mr Coulished and not me.” The girl scowled at him but did his bidding, recognising probably that on very small provocation the Captain would force his way . into her master's presence. “I fancy Martin Coulished will see us, Caspar,” he said, while we were waiting. “1798 has a deal o’ meaning for Martin, that it has.” For the second time the girl returned. There was a look of surprise on her face and she measured the Captain up and down with a new respect. “Please walk this way,” she said, with assumed politeness. We followed her through a barely furnished hall. Thence up a staircase on to a wide landing, whore she opened a door and ushered us into a badly lighted room. The door closed softly behind us and Sheen began to speak. Coming fi’om the sunshine outside it 'was some moments before my eyes became accustomed to the dismal surroundings. . “Hallo, Martin,” cried the Captain heartily. ''You’ve sadly forgotten your manners to deny yourself to an old friend." ;

“Now-.whatudo, you, want?” piped a high falsetto voice from a chair by the fireplacb, “and who’s that with you?, I didn’t expect two,”

The Captain laughed unpleasantly. “The same old selfish Martin,” he said. “So shrewd, too; so business-like and so free from womanly weaknesses. He don’t like to be reminded of the sea and he don’t seem to believe that I come to see him for old time’s sake.” “Come for what?” demanded the thin voice. “Stop beating about the bush and say what you’ve got to say straight out.”.

“I want money,” said Sheen bluntly, but with an inflection of command. “That’s blackmail!” was the exclamatory reply. “I guessed as much.” I was at length able to distinguish the speaker and his surroundings. He was a small wizened man, with a deeply wrinkled face. His parcliment-like skin was so hairless that even the eyebrows were wanting, which gave him a very peculiar expression, as liis brow relaxed and contracted, denoting alternately surprise and scorn. His red-lidded eyas had a mean and cunning look and when lighted up by excitement shone with a wicked and cruel glare. He sat leaning back in his big armchair, with slippered feet resting an a footstool before the fire and his head half buried in cushions.

“Blackmail!” stormed the Captain. “No! I only want my share of the profits. I have other seas to navigate now, but no cash. In a word, I want enough to fit out and provision a ship for at least six months.” “Cool!” falsettoed Coulished sarcastically. “Perhaps it is cool, Martin,” retorted the Captain, “but it’s what I mean to have and in writing, too, before I leave this room.” “And if I refuse?”

“I’ll denounce you as the leader of the “Frolic.” It isn’t forgotten yet.” “I began to think you were dead/' piped the thin voice. . “That thought/’ sneered the Captain, “was bred by the wish to be well rid of me. I never met a man on land or sea who loved lxis old shipmates. so much as you do, Martin. No! you son of a sea-cook, I haven’t lost the number of my mess yet. And liere’s the nevy of another old friend of yours. You remember Ronald Mir rimy. This is young Caspar Mirrimy.”

Sheen waved his hand towards me with a smile, but Coulished took no notice of the introduction.

“Where’s Ronald Mirrimy?” he questioned, eagerly. “You’ll be grieved to hear Ronald Mirrimy’s gone below,” said Sheen. “Oh,” answered Coulished with no grief in his voice, if anything rather a note of joy. “This young cock stands in his place,” the Captain continued with an air of fatherly pride in me, “and he promises to crow as loud as our old mate when lie’s grown his spurs.” There was a pause for a moment, during which Coulished gave vent to a mirthless chuckle, the Captain watching him with a stony stare. “Well, what about ttie ship, Martin?” he asked, loudly enough to break in on the 'laugh. “The ship!’’ echoed Coulished indifferently. “The ship and the money to fit her out and provision her,” repeated the Captain. “I’m not a hanker,” said Couhshed,

“Damnation!” thundered the Captain, scowling fiercely. “You once put me up to the vilest piece of work I was ever connected with.”

. “And that’s saying ,a lot, isn’t’it?” Coulished broke in with a jeer. “The most damned piece of villainy,” the Captain went on, without noticing the gibe. “You collared the swag that partly belonged to iSirrimy and me. I’ve now come for my share and for Mirrimy’s, as belongs in the course o’ nature to his young nevy here.”

“Put all such delusions out or your head, Captain Sheen,” Coulished answered, a sneering smile on his yellow face, which still lay unconcernedly back in the cushions. “You’ve got to meet plain facts. What I have is my own and I don’t .intend to part with a single groat of it.” He could at times put a calm decision into his high falsetto, which it was impossible, to mistake. In his own house, secure in an assured position, he entirely disregarded any threat that Sheen could make and therefore treated him with aggravating contempt. “You forget, Martin, I can make you,” urged the Captain forcibly, glaring at him from under bent brows. “Oh, how ?” inquired Coulished, as if he were seeking for some ordinary piece of information.

“If you don’t toe the mark at once,” said the Captain in a voice full of determination, “and hand me over what money I want I go straight from this house and lay a statement of the haul on the “Frolic” before the authorities. Where would you be then, Martin Coulished, supercargo ,of an American merchantman ?” He hissed the last sentence between his clenched teeth. “Where I am now,” laughed Coulished in full enjoyment of a fine joke. “Just where I am now. Look! I should inform the authorities that you had tried to blackmail me, point one; that I knew nothing of the doings that you spoke of, point two; that ! had never seen you before, point three.”' He numbered them for emphasis on the tips of his fingers. ‘"You see, Dan,” he Kent on,

“here I am respected. I hold several public positions; I give a lot in charity chiefiy at church Feasts. Ah, there’s a lot to be done by the judicious use of Christianity—a trick you’ve practised too little. I might yet sib in Parliament, who knows. With dear Bonny dead, what use would your unsupported testimony be against mine. Lay a statement against me. Bosh ! Don’t be such a dolt. In a flash Sheen saw the weakness of bis position. The bitterness of defeat threw him into a violent rage. It was only for a moment. Then, conquering himself, he assumed a milder tone, seeking to gain his ends by subtler if more costly tactics. His manner, that just before had been domineering, suddenly became quite jaunty and good-humour-ed.

“Right you are, Martin,” he said, with an off-hand breeziness, “there’s no doubt about your figurehead, no doubt in the world. It’s brainy enough to belong to a commodore. Now, as you won’t yield to sentiment, I’m going to make you a tempting offer. Will you take a share in return for the cash T want ?” ‘‘What in?” asked Coulished, a sudden greed lighting up his dull eyes.

“Treasure,” answered Sheen. The small man sat holt upright in his chair with an expression of keenest interest. Rich as he was he could never get rich enough to feel be had sufficient.

“Supposing we let you in as a sleeping partner ill the swag, worth £100,000,” Sheen went on, “will you fit out the ship?”

“No, I won’t,” answered Coulished. sinking back into his cushions with an air of disappointment.

“You won’t?” cried Sheen. “No!”

“Why?” “Sleeping partner,” said Coulished coolfy, “means a man who dreams of profits he never gets. I never dream.” “Good God!” cried Sheen, staring at the man with wide-open eyes. (i You don’t mean to say that you would take an active share?”

Coulished got on his feet for the first time during the interview. Standing a little over five feet in height, his clothes hung loosely round his shrunken figure. Pointing a skinny finger at Sheen, ho remarked: —• “I’m not robust, Dan, like you, but I’m tough.” The Captain took the tin case out of his inside pocket and crossing to the table which stood near Coulished’s chair, he spread out the map upon it.

“New Zealand !” exclaimed Coulished at a glance, showing that it was by no means his first knowledge of the country. Sheen began to tell him the story that was now so familiar to me. After listening patiently to a few sentences Coulished stopped him abruptly. “A minute, Dan, please,” lie said. “You’re as long-winded as a methodist and I can’t stand it without refreshment.”

He rang and ordered the servant to bring in wine and glasses. From the tray she placed on the table he helped himself and Sheen. Then he turned to me as a kind of afterthought, prompted, I fancy, by a bint from my companion.

“Do you want some?” he asked, with no warmth in the invitation.

“Thank you,” I said, catching an amused glance from the Captain’s eye. He poured me out about half a glass. “It’s a bad habit for boys,” he said, as he handed it to me and I could see that the commonplace remark was only a threadbare cloak for his parsimony. It took Sheen upwards of an hour to fully describe the details of the wreck to Martin Coulished’s satisfaction. A man more aggravatingly suspicious it would be impossible to imagine. He examined the map, he questioned Sheen as to every difficulty that was likely to be met with, and he debated the probable cost and the possible gains. Finally, he deprecated my having an equal share with themselves. On this point Sheen stood my friend, partly for my uncle’s sake, and partly from a delight in opposing the man who had been too much for him. There was only one thing that Coulished never doubted and that was the existence of the wreok. He evidently knew Sipe>

well enough to be certain that he would not traverse a wide ocean in pursuit of a phantom ship. “Very well,” he said at last, “I’ll joia you. You can purchase a very suitable brig I know of. Her name’s the “Seagull” and she’s anchored not far from the jetty. She belongs to Masters Caspian and Son. Buy her in the name oi Coulished and—who shall we say? Do you still go by the name of Sheen ?” “ Tomlonson hereabouts, when it comes to business,” said the Captain. “That’ll do then,” answered Coulished. “Here’s my authority.” He rapidly scribbled a few lines on a- piece of paper which he folded and handed to Sheen, who put it into an inside pocket.

“Now I’ll set about collecting a crew/' he said. “We ought to be fitted up and ready to sail in three weeks.”

“You must do the work,” answered Coulished with a wave of his hand. “I shall not appear nor make it public I am going. When you’re ready I’ll just come quietly aboard and leave my nest empty for the good people of Bristol to wonder at.”

“It’ll be like old times,” laughed Sheen. “Once more the three partners. Sheen, Coulished and Mirrimyll sail tha high seas together.” Coulished winced. The Captain slowly rolled up the map and put the tin case back in his big coat pocket. He held out his hand to Coulished with an air of good-fellowship. “Good-bye, Martin, for the present/’ he said.

Coulished held out a skinny to each of us ia turn and watched us out of the room with evident relief. It was pleasant to get out again into the fresh air and sunlight, but the thought of a long sea voyage with the creaturo wo had just left was not exhilarating.

CHAPTER, VI. The Captain and I went straight from our interview with Martin Coulished to look at the brig. She was a graceful craft, her two masts tapering- high above us, covered with a regular spider’s web of ropes. Sheen was not satisfied with a casual inspection but overhauled her from stem to stern. “She’s a clipper,” he said, when w© were once more ashore again. “Just the boat for us. Able to carry a big spread of canvas and rigged just the right way. I thought she’d be good as Martin recommended her. He’s got a seaman’s eye, has Martin. We’ll sail along and find out what they want for her.”

The price proving a fair one, after some haggling, Sheen bought her in the name of Coulished and Tomlonson. “Why do you use a false name?” I asked, when the business was finished and we were again in the street.

“The name’s not exactly false,” he said equivocally, “for it belonged to my poor old mother. There’s a lot in the colours you sail under, sonny; I favour the distaff.” This was all the information forthcoming, and in spite of my great curiosity, I had to be content. There was plenty of excitement during the next ten days: taking on seamen, the provisioning and our own personal outfit to obtain. To pay for these Sheen pro* cured the money from Coulished. I do not imagine that Coulished parted with his riches easily, for the Captain’s face was often as black as thunder after ai interview with him, and I noticed thathe had to give receipts for his expenditure. It was agreed that whatever was spent was to be taken out of the treasure when the partnership was at an end. After about ten days I returned to the village for the last time, to say good-bye to my mother. Not until then did I fully realise my situation. The old village seemed very quiet after the bustle and excitement of Bristol, and gave me plenty of time for thought. Now that the novelty of the new life I was entering, was wearing off, the bright future I had imagined had lost much of its glamour and my youthful ardour was considerably abated. My mother was frequently in tears, and in the corner of my room stood the box, ready packed for my departure. , i I would gladly have turned tail on the whole bargain, so great was the homesickness that- for the time overwhelmed

me. Ais a set off against this feeling, a whisper had spread abroad among the neighbours that of late I had fallen upon good fortune, and that I was being? taken some notice of. This served to keep me to my purpose, and I kept a brave heart, looking forward to the time when X might return, rich enough to be the squire’s equal in importance. All too soon came the morning of farewell. My mother was waving her handkerchief in the distance as the coach passed out of sight round the corner of the road. That was the last I saw of her for many weary months. was well forward in Bristol, and. the brig was within four days of sailing. In fact she was both provisioned and manned and could have left there and then. Walking down to the quay with Sheen to see that all was shipshape on the boat, we passed along one of the principal streets, when he suddenly gave a start and quickened his ' pace.' I looked up and saw his eyes fixed on two men coming rapidly towards us. One was a seaman and the other a city magnate, with a full-fla-voured air of respectability about his whole person. They were both of very different calibre from my companion. As they passed us there was a look of astonishment and recognition on the seaman’s face, such a look as comes to people when face to face with the unex- ' pected. He stopped short and gazed after us. “Who’s that?” I asked, looking back Over my shoulder. Sheen had quickened his pace towards the boat. “How should I know?” he answered curtly. ‘T never saw either of them before. My appearance always makes people damned inquisitive. Is he still looking this way, Caspar?” “Yes, he is,” I said with surprise, *'and what is more he’s staring as if he knew you.’ “Well, he don’t,” answered Sheen. “Looks half -seas over to 5 me and takes mo for someone else.” Without t-uming or slackening our pace, we reached the brig in silence, where, leaving me on deck, he scuttled down into the cabin. His face had grown pale and there was an unusual fear in his eyes. He stayed below about half-an-hour. When he returned he was calm, in the meantime having regained his accustomed composure, evidently with the aid of rum. ‘The crew are all alongside, Caspar,” he said hurriedly. “Bun up to Mr Coulished and tell him to come aboard. The date of sailing’s altered. All’s shipshape, the tide serves this afternoon, we’ve got our clearance, and there’s no mortal reason why we should kick our heels on shore when we might be under sail. Tell Coulished I mean what I say and if he dilly dallies I shall weigh anchor without him. I shan’t wait 1 Up anchor in four hours, them’s the orders. I don’t mind explaining when he comes aboard.” Sheen looked at me in a way that forbade argument, and I set off for Martin Coulished’s as quickly as my legs would carry me. Coulished was much concerned when I delivered iny message, trying to pump me in regard to the .Captain’s sudden change of plans. “Four hours’ notice,” ho said, “was far too short with such a lot to do.” He promised, however, to try to he aboard within that time rather than run the risk of being left behind, a contingency . he evidently considered far from doubtful undev wtieh a captain. Leaving him, I went slowly hack, stopping on the way to spend the last of my small store of money. After buying a strong sheath knife at a cutlers’ shop, on coming out I found myself face to face with the two men who had startled Sheen earlier in the day. The seaman laid his hand upon my shoulder. “What do you want?” I asked, drawing hack from him, while I observed his well-set figure and honest face. “If you keep such company as you were in a short time ago,” he said, with reproof in his voice, “you must expect to be stopped. Who was your companion?” - “You appear to know enough about him without me,” I replied sarcastically. “I know something,” he admitted; “too much in fact. What is your connection with him P” * “I don’t see how that is any business of yours,” I said with some reserve. “Tut, tut!” interposed the man, who looked like a city magnate. ‘TLeave him alone, Speering. It’s no good questioning a young devil like that. He’s quite old enough to be corrupt and young enough to go his own way, regardless of honesty or anything else. You . can always judge people by the company they keep. You know the adage,, and if young, people keep low company, I leave, them alone. If you are a wise man you will do the* same.” '• Speering’s hand was still upon my shoulder.' There was a firm friendliness in his touch and he took little notice of the pompous utterance of his friend. “It’s my business in this way, my lad,” he said, answering my question. “The man I saw you with has escaped justice for many years. He is & dastardly criminal, and he has wronged me very cruelly. I ought to be able to bring him to book this time. You look straight-forward and open, and I 'thought you might help me with any information I might need.” I was foolish not to listen to what

could be urged against Gap tain Sheen, and trustfulness, as is often the case, proved my misfortune. There was much at stake, and it appeared manly and noble to be loyal to my partners. “Then you are an enemy of Tomlonson’s?” I said, bringing out the false name with emphasis. “Tomlonson!” he echoed, looking at me with keen suspicion. “Is that the name you know him by? However, if you care to put it so, I am his enemy. I’d like to see him bung to-morrow!” “And you want me to help you?” I asked, meeting his eyes and measuring him with scorn.

“I now call upon you, in the name of justice, to help me,” he said solemnly. His companion interposed again. “Can’t you see, Speering,” he cried, impatiently, “that you are only wasting time. You won’t get any satisfaction out of this fellow. One never does get any satisfaction out of people like him. You have legal advice; come to the magistrate!”

I already hated this pompous man of wealth. He raised the devil in me with his superficial judgment and his patronising manner.

“If the law is on your side, be con tent?” I said. “Why do you want mo to appear against my friends? I can tell you nothing!” “Nothing!” echoed Speering, incredulously. “Well, then, if you know nothing about him, listen to me and for your own sake keep out of his company as much as you can. It was entirely on account of your honest looks that I stopped you. Whatever you do never barter your honesty for anything in the world. Your loyalty is a grand thing, but I wish it had a more worthy object. Don’t tell Captain Sheen. I mean Tomlonson, you have seen mo again, and it is just possible I may fre® you of him by to-night. Has he got a ship here ?” “Yes, he has,” I said, impatiently, getting tired of being preached at and anxious to get back. “You’ll get valuable information out of that lad, Steering,” said bis companion, derisivly. “Be quiet, there’s a good fellow,” answered Speering. “Tell me, my lad, will you, where he’s bound for and when he sails?

There is nothing in this history that fills me with greater shame than my reply to that question. To have refused to speak would have been pardonable, but the lie can never be excused. Keeping back for my own ends the messago Sheen had given me for Coulished, I told Captain Speering the original date of our departure. “We sail the day after to-morrow,” I said, with bold face, “for Australia.” The city man had turned away after the delivery of his last piece of advice, and was. studying the window of the cutler’s shop. “Be sure you don't say anything to Tomlonson about meeting me,” Speering repeated emphasising the name, and the request seemed strange after the coolness with which I had received his advances.

“I may have to,” I replied; “although your business with Tomlonson has nothing to do with me.” I once more used Sheen’s assumed name, dwelling on it that it might be unmistakable. Sneering sighed. “What a pity,” he said, turning to rejoin his friend, “that you should bo so blindly infatuated. You misunderstand me,, but we shall meet again very shortly when I may prove to be your friend. Good-bye!” The two men went along together, talking earnestly. I at once hurried back to the ship, my mind in a tumult; all past suspicions, which had been allayed by the Captain’s influence over me, newly aroused because of the fear I had seen him show, when he found himself face to face with the man whose evident honesty convinced me, in spite of myself, that he had been foully wronged. Also I had the regret at having told a lie; I, who had been little used to playing fast and loose with truth.

On board the brig all was bustle and confusion; men were running hither and thither; and it was apparent we were leaving directly. Packages and parcels littered the deck; Captain Sheen, who was anxiously awaiting my return and glancing from time to time along the quay, questioned me directly I got on deck. “He hasn’t come back with you, then,” he exclaimed, speaking quickly and meeting my eye with nervous glance. “Did you tell him I would sail without him ?”

“He said he’d be here in time,” I answered.

“I won’t delay for any man/’ cried the Captain, bringing his fist down heavily on the gunwale against which he stood. “Not for any man!” he repeated. “If Martin Coulished is not here within an hour we sail without him, that’s all.” The day’s experience had so completely unmanned Sheen that his manner was unusually restless, and anxiety was pictured in every line of his face. “You didn’t happen to sight that chap again who made for us this morning, Caspar?” he ashed, trying in vain to throw a note of unconcern into his voice. “He was still about the streets,” I answered carelessly, watching the effect of my words. The Captain seemed relieved. Calculating that being still in the street

meant inaction, and a certain degree ot security from the dangers of the law, he waited more patiently. In less than an hour Coulished came off to the brig in a shore boat. After haggling for some moments with the lighterman as to , what he was going to pay, to my surprise he climbed on board with the agility of a monkey. Ho was dressed in a blue coat with brass buttons, a size too big for him, and presented an appearance that was a curious admixture of a well-to-do ship's chandler and sailor. The latter was apparent in his easy demeanour, his active movements and his total unconcern at the strangeness of his surroundings. The former was chiefly shown by the cut of his clothes and a kind of pervasive quality which clung about him and fitted him far better than they did. As he stood there, blinking his cunning eyes at Sheen, his appearance was almost repulsive. “What do you mean by this unseemly change of plans without consulting me ?” he asked, with a snivel of ill-usage.

'I mean that Bristol isn’t a safe port,” answered Sheen, in a low voice. “If I stay here I stand a likely chance of being hauled up over the ‘Frolic.’ ” ‘Tell that to the marines,” said Coulished. “I’ve lived safely in Bristol for these ten years, and it’s hardly likely I’m going to be run down ip two days.” ‘To the devil with * your safety,” Sheen broke in. “You can look after yourself as well as any skulk that ever lived. I’m not concerned with you in any way, except the small business we’re engaged in. Speering recognised the street not many hours since. He knew well enough it was me, Dan Sheen; and you can guess it’ll be pretty rough weather for me until we’re well out at sea. That gentleman hasn’t the good fortune to know you, Martin, but you’ve heard his name often enough. With your blarsted cunning you kept out of it all. He knows me, though, a deal too well and I prefer not to speak him again in a country where they’re so particular about law and order, that a man can get bis grappling irons on to you before you know where you are.” Coulished made no reply, his attention becoming absorbed in studying the

appearance of a man who was leaning over the side of the ship. His face assumed an expression of surprise and anger. Sheen, observing this, smiled quietly to himself. “Who’s that, Dan?” asked Coulished, sharply. “I thought I’d seen all the crew, but he’s a stranger.” “That’s the mate, Martin.” answered Sheen, with the utmost unconcern. “Where’s the man I recommended for the place?” Coulished asked, blinking his eyes. “Drunk, I expect,” Sheen replied, smiling. / “Drunk!” exclaimed Coulished, with' dull comprehension. “You don’t mean to say being drunk’s a disqualification for this expedition. I’ve seen the time when Captain Sheen’s whole crew’s been too drunk to stand upon their pins. Show me a sailor that doesn’t get drunk.” “Belike you have, Martin.” answered the Captain, “but Til have none of that; this trip. Thunder and lightning, man!” he roared; “you wouldn’t go to Davy Jones in your present sinful state, would you. The fool you sent me for mate was an incapable seaman. Neither drunkenness nor disobedience to orders, more especially the last, will ever be tolerated in any man sailing under my flag. You’ll find the hand I’ve chosen to be all your heart could wish.” Coulished. watching Sheen with furtive eyes, wore the look of a man bound on a long sea voyage without a soul in whom he could trust. The mate he wanted would have' been his stay in any hour of need. The Captain had purposely deprived him of this support, knowing the motives which had actuated his choice; and he fully understood his present disappointment and concern. „ * “X don’t like your pick at all, Ban, Coulished said, after a pause. The cruel smile on Sheen’s face deep, ened into brutality and scorn. “I’m sorry for that, Martin,” he said with a sneer, “because I think him an uncommonly good officer, and I was damned lucky to drop across such a man. They’re scarce enough. However, if you don’t like him, you don’t, and there the matter ends. It’s too late to look out for anyone else now, anyway. Morgan, I’ll wager, ’ll prove a

fine seaman, and that’s what we want. No town-bred lacquey for mo! Y<m may. have the biggest board, M ■' ia, but trust yourself to old Dan &> »• u when you want a crew- By the way 1 have a bone to pick with you myself. I told you we should give it out we were going to New Zealand for Sax and tha-i, mate of yours spread it among the hands that we should make Australia. Now, Martin, that was a skulking trick of yours, whatever you meant by it. . I don’t want to know anything about your own private plans, but I would advise you not to try to get the weather side o’ Dan Sheen.” ‘•You’re false as hell, Dan,” Coulished cried, “and I shall not sail with him for mate.” “Good God,” Sheen stormed back, “get back aboard your cockleshell while the shore’s within easy reach. That’s more than it’ll be if you wait auotnei hour. I’m going to up anchor in a jiffy and the tide suits.” “Whoso money fitted out the ship?” Coulished snivelled, the spirit completely knocked out of him. “Yours, I suppose you’d say, my .son,” Sheen answered, with the goodhumour of victory. “Still it was a fair bargain between us and if you slacken vour end of it now, you will have to pay the piper. So you may as well make up your mindT I’m just going to give orders. You can bring what charge you like against me when I’m at sea.” Coulished felt himself driven two opposite ways, egged on by greed and yet repelled by fear. Ho was at once outwitted and at a disadvantage—in a very different position from that when he held the trump cards against Sheen in his own house absolutely alone, without a man on whom he could count. On the one hand, to fall out now would be to lose all he had embarked in the venture which, to a man of Coulislied’s nature, meant much. On the other hand, to proceed was to put himself wholly into Sheen’s power, and after months oi privation and suffering probably to mem with a violent death —which meant still more. For some moments he hesitated, swayed by conflicting forces, until at last greed conquered. “All right, Dan,” he said, forcing a smile; “you’ro a devil of a man.” “Caved in,” sneered Sheen, with an air of contemptuous familiarity. “Well, having made a silly fuss about, nothing, it was the best thing you could do. Mr Morgan!” The man in question came towards us at the' peremptory call. He was a dark-skinned fellow, a dare-devil of about forty years of age. He wore rings in his ears, his sleeves ro ed up, and had a prominent tatoo mark on his arm. Not a pleasant looking person, taken altogether, but one to be reckoned with in a scrimmage. “Morgan,” said Sheen when he came up, “we weigh anchor at once, but before we do so this is Mr Coulished, partner in the brig, who sails as one of the party.” Morgan did not answer. Nodding his head, he stood watching Coulished, and his dark eyes had a certain look of disdain. Possibly Sheen had told him the character of his half employer. “That’s all, Mr Morgan,” Sheen con. tinued. “All clear now for a start ovei the briny and look sharp about it.” The brig became at once a scene of bustling activity, as Sheen gave order after order. The boatswain sounded his whistle and the sailors rushed to the capstan, raising the anchor to a cheerful "Yo, Heave Ho,” and setting the sails with a speed that seemed wonderful to a landsman. The tide was on the ebb and a favourable wind took us down towards tbe sea. Sheen came up to where I stood. “Well, Caspar, here you are,” he said, “a full-fledged seagull at last. Take a good look at England during the next hour, for you won’t see her again for many a long day. England ” He stopped suddenly, gazing hard at the shore. “Hell!” he muttered then, under his breath.

The profane exclamation, his sudden change of mood from a patronising philosopher to a startled human being, the rigid pose which his figure assumed, all caused me to follow his gaze ashore. On the quay, which was still plainly visible, stood an excited group of people. I could see that some of them were King’s officers, but standing apart, and watching us with grim intentness, that reminded me of the pictures of Napoleon, was the sea captain who had talked with me in the street—the man ' to whom I had calmly lied for the protection of the party which I had joined. r As he stood there, growing every moment less distinct in the quickly gathering night, he seemed to menace my conscience and to fill my awakened manhood with self-disdain. Sheen chuckled audibly. “Done again,” he muttered under his breath, and turning on his heel left me to meditate alone. I sat on the deck; the twilight deepened ; night fell like a huge dark pall; Bristol itself was barely visible ; little roma j n ed beyond the twinkling lights of distant! shipping; the brig began to heave on a rapidly increasing swell j soma stars crept out, from among the clouds and a pale new moon added a - ghostly liglrt;. Coulished, who up to this time had not left the cabin now joined me, his yellow face slightly flushed and his voice husky with drink. /Take your last look,” he said, hoarse.

ly “The.chances are you’ll never see it again or if you do it will be when Sheen has made you a very different man to what you are to-day. Ay, dear old England’s nearly out of sight.' Have you been below to see our quarters?” “Yes,” I said, drawing away from him in digust; the sight of him was repulsive.

“I’m centrepiece there, don’t you know,” - he continued with a hiccough, “centrepiece between you and Sheen, a position full of contrast —but most unsafe,” he added in a maudlin way. “I wish I hadn’t come.”

“You took your choice,” I urged. “No, you tempted me,” he added with a drunken droop of his red eyelids over cunning eyes.

It was a curious statement from a man who had considered me too young or too unimportant for consideration. “I don’t see how I could have tempted you,” I said coldly. “I was stranger and I never spoke during your interview with Captain Sheen.”

“I wouldn’t have come with Sheen alone,” he explained: “but when I saw he had a companion like you, so strong and honest-looking, I decided to try another shake- of Fortune’s dice. If wo go down we’ll go in company, eh ?” He lurched forward and gave me a suggestive poke in the ribs. “What do you mean.?” I asked, drawing myself up. “Did Ronald Mirrimy never tell you about the ‘Frolic’ ?” lie said, with a shudder as at an evil memory. “Sheen’s worse than a devil and I’m an old fool to have trusted myself with him, knowing him as I do. No? Then I’ll tell you about it myself. Her real name was the ‘Seaspray,’ ” he muttered confidentially, drawing closer to me. “She lay in Boston. There were Sheen, Mirrimy and me. I was supercargo on hoard and we met at tire sign of the Churchwarden, where Peter Minns and Cbappel joined us. We ” “Below there, Martin,” roared the Captain’s voice beside us. “I’ll shoot any man who dares to speak against me on my own deck—shoot him like I would a dog. None of your ancient history here. We live in the present, not in the past. Below with you, you skulking hound. I’m master on my own ship, at any rate, and I mean to have my own way. Down!” I say. The Captain’s face was ablaze with anger and 4*is words came sharp and quick. Coulished. awed by his furious manner, obeyed him in cowed silence. The Captain took no notice of me till Coulished disappeared down the companion.

“Ah, that’s a bad man, Caspar,” he said then, with a pharasaical self-right-eousness, “a bad, bad man! Y r ou’ll think I’m mighty quarrelsome, but the only way to deal with men like Martin, jacks in office, and sea-lawyers, is to slit their tongues. “What about the ‘Frolic?’” I asked quickly. “The name is always cropping up.” The Captain looked at me with assumed innocence.

“A thousand things about the ‘Frolic,’ ” he laughed, good humouredly, “a thousand things! Bub what Coulished was going to tell you I’m blamed if I pretend to know. It’s impossible to tell what schemes are hatching in his bald head. His imagination runs amuck at times.

“Maybe .so,” I persisted, “but I’ve heard the ‘Frolic’ mentioned so often. There must he some story attached o her.”

“Of course there must,” the Captain agreed with great heartiness. “I should say there was a yarn to pretty nearly every ship that sails. I’ll tell you the yarn of the ‘Frolic’ myself some day and save Martin Coulished the trouble. I use it to whip him up with; he’s like a top that spins the better the more it’s whipped. He took a bad part m that business, but the rest of us were innocent enough. There, I must go and look Morgan up before I turn in. When morning breaks we’ll be well out in the open sea.” With these words lie left me alone with my own thoughts. All around me -was the lonely deep. The brig was running freely before a gentle breeze and phosphorescent flashes showed in her wake. The steady motion of the brig, as she rose and fell on the quickly increasing swell, the swish of the sails athey bellied with the wind, the creaking of the tightened ropes, almost the only sounds that broke the stillness, emphasised the strangeness of my situation. The lights had gone. Around me was a great waste of waters from which I was separated by only a few planks—my sole companions my shipmates! No wonder that through my mind there began to steal a thousand suspicions of Sheen and Coulished, and with them the vain wish that I had stayed at home—the wish that I had tiusted ©peering, and many other useless regrets. Then the treasure loomed large again and all these thoughts vanished like spectres, leaving me glad to dare all for the chance of winning it.

CHAPTER WIT. ; When the first few days of strangeness had worn off the voyage became full of the greatest interest, to me. Calm for the most part, with fair winds and clear skies, our progress, though not rapid, was steady and unbroken; each day carrying us nearer our destina-

tion. Sheen was schoolmaster as well as Captain, spending a good deal of his spare time in teaching me the Maori language. The little knowledge I gained proved of inestimable benefit, giving me a great advantage over Coulished. I learnt much about the brig and asailor’s life from my own observation, being determined to take my share of the work. The great, unfathomable mystery of the sea entered into my soul as I kept watch on deck through the silent hours of the night, with the sentinel stars above, and below the moving sea.

Coulished we seldom saw except at meals, when he generally ate in silence. At night he was a restless sleeper, often waking us, appealing in his dreams for help, and crying out like a frightened child. At breakfast the next morning Sheen would twit him with cowardice; hot words would ensue and vain recriminations, but it was noticeable that the secret of the “Frolic” was always carefully guarded. The slightest hint of it at once called forth from Sheen a sharp reproof. Coulished spent the long days “forrad,” making familiar with the men who, in spite of all his attentions, regarded him with scorn, and paid him back with cold and distant manners. He was essentially a man incapable of winning their respect or of inspiring in them the least degree of fear. In consequence of the evident disfavour in which he was held by the crew, one morning he ventured to approach Sheen with a question. “Dan,” he inquired hesitatingly, “is this brig mine or yours?” There wias a deliberate pause before the Captain replied. “One third of it, Martin,” he said in a tone of unusual candour. “I want my third to touch at Port Jackson,” 'answered Coulished, with subtle insinuation.

“Indeed I” said the Captain coldly. “I have important business there, Dan,” pleaded Coulished. “Got friends there among the exiles ?” sneered Sheen. “Take my advice, Martin. Forget ’em! It’s a family of no reputation that’s exiled at Port Jackson, and although you might claim relationship to more than one member of it, so far as crime’s concerned, I wouldn’t be too ambitious if I were you. Time enough!” he added meaningly.

Coulished’s yellow face paled, but he showed no temper. Being an accomplished sailor he knew our latitude and longitude as well as Sheen or Morgan did. Realising that under present Conditions Port Jackson would be passed in a week at the outside, he was making

a last and desperate effort to gain hie ends.

“It would make little difference to th© expedition to call at Port Jackson, Dan,” he urged warmly. “It might make a bigger difference than you or I bargain for,” answered the Captain, dwelling on his words. ‘.‘At anyrate I don’t intend to make that a port of call, so that’s settled, Martin." The Captain closed the discussion by rising quickly and stamped up the com-panion-way'to the deck, whither I followed him directly I had finished breakfast, Coulished eyeing me furtively. Coulished looked on me as the Captain’s tool and did not divulge any of his plans to me. So far as that goes I was one of the only two people on board ho had never approached with his confidences, a reticence which dated from the first night we were at sea.

The rest of the day following this stormy breakfast he spent with the mate, a circumstance the Captain, laughing triumphantly, drew my attention to.

“His last throw, Caspar,” he said. “Poor fool! The last throw of th® loaded dice. Morgan ’ll blab all that he’s said to him in less than half-am hour, and if it’s what I think it is I’ll give the treacherous skunk a lesson he won’t forget. He’s on a lee shore, that’s what he is.”

The Captain’s eyes gleamed a threat from dark pent-house brows and his voice trembled with rage. After this he seldom, under any pretext, missed an opportunity of bullying Coulished.

“Plot and counterplot,” he continued indignantly; “he couldn’t live without it. Well, he laughs loudest who laughs last, and by God I reckon I’ll do that! You’re a better-hearted lad, Caspar, but if you stick to me I’ll make a man of you. You lay by and keep your eyes open and your mouth shut, that’s all.” With this insufficient, explanation Captain left me. There was a storm brewing in more senses than one. Down in the west lay a low bank of clouds and every now and then the sea was ruffled by a rapidly growing breeze. The wind began to lash the sea into foam; with every sail close hauled the brig pitched heavily. By nightfall this had increased to a gale. Despite the fury of the elements, a brightness down on the horizon prophesied that it was likely to prove only a passing squall.

We spoke little during our evening meal, and when it was over I left the cabin again for the deck, less from any sense of fear than from a pleasurable pride in the tight little craft that was bearing us over the heaving sea, in, the teeth of the storm. The Captain and Coulished remained below*\ ;

The night was wild and chill. Scudding clouds raced each other across the darkening sky j the stars were hid and there was no moon; the rigging creaked aa the gusts of wind strained at the sails, and the wake of the plunging ship gleamed with whirling, masses of phosphorescent foam. Nothing was heard save the howling of the tempest. «Fov upwards of half an hour the strange scene held me. spell-bound. At length thinking of turning in, I made the com-panion-way with difficulty, owing to the pitching of the vessel, when a cry reached my ears. Fearing from its note of terror something was amiss I dashed below.

There was Sheen, sitting at the table, a levelled pistol at full-cock in his up-

lifted hand, determination stamped on every feature, with Coulished cowering back in his seat in utter helplessness, livid with abject fear and trembling all over. EVen as I rushed towards them, I fully expected the Captain to pull the trigger— to see the flash of the pistol; to see his shivering victim roll from his Beat a lifeless heap; and high above the voices of the storm—above the creaking timbers of the ship, to hear the piercing death cry. "Sheen!” I cried. The Captain looked round at the sound of my voice but did not lower

the weapon. Coulished sat staring like one stupified, chained to the spot;, with '“‘drawn face, and eyes starting from, his head. The Captain showed no sign of flurry. ‘'Hallo, Caspar 1” he said, coolly. “Come and sit down!” He motioned nre to a seat beside him ancTonee more turned his attention to the wsgg?on in his hand. Never had a Euan a calmer resolution, never sucn a

callousness to the seriousness of murder.

“Put down that pistol, Captain „ Sheen!” I demanded, with ail the force I could muster. Taking his eyes off ' Coulished for a moment, he turned to me. I noticed there was a smile on his face, half surprise and half amusement. ‘ Are you commander here?” he said, vith no resentment in his voice. “It’>* all up; I’ve run him down; I’m-going to turn a broadside on and I mean to sink him.” 7 “Oh, no you don’t,” I answered firm-

Sheen raised his eyebrows. “Another damned mutineer,” he grumbled. “There can hardly be a question ot mutiny among partners,” I urged, using the only argument that came into nry mind. “Oh, can’t there ?” he asked, with the simplicity of a man who was learning an interesting but unknown fact. “What about the one who’s Captain and has the safety of the ship upon bis shoulders during a voyage. Doesn’t he rule partners just as he does hands before the mast. Even the owner. of o ship has to acknowledge the Captain cock of the walk. That’s as good sea law as you’ll meet with in a day’s sail.” He looked at me with quizzical triumph in his eyes. “Perhaps,” I said, for what other reply was possible; “still you are hardly justified in shooting a man in cold blood, yourself being both judge and jury. Put the pistol down-, I say, before I call for help.” Being in such a mood it was a wonder he did not turn The weapon against mo. He playfully poked the barrel end in Coillshed’s white face, finding a cruel joy in the poor fellow’s utter misery and distress.

“If you move a muscle, Caspar, that moment I make shark’s meat of him, he exclaimed.

Then he began slowly circling the muzzle round Coulished’s face, making it pitiful to see the wretched man’s eyes roll as they followed its motion.

“Look at him!” sneered Sheen. “The man that would raise a mutiny on my ship; a brave leader, he! A leader for bumboat women, not for men! Try to bribe my mate, would you, you swab? Try to bribe my men—try to get the windward side of. me ? Go to hell with you ! Do you think I can’t see through your little scheme. Rope me would you, eh? and rob me of my share by going on the treasure-hunt alone? You lily-livered skunk! Why the blazes didn’t I plug you?” He clicked the trigger after every sentence, which only intensified the agony of suspense. So withering was the Captain’s rage' that Ooulished hung his head in silence. The tension was telling on me, and as I stood almost within reach of the menacing pistol; I thought for one mad iflouient of springing forward and grasping the Captain’s arm. Then I remembered what sort of a man I had to deal with, and that such an action would be the signal for him to fire. What could I do? There was no way of saving the wreched Coulished except by strategy. Prompted by the gravity of the situation, I ventured to appeal to his reason, of-which for the time his passion had bereft him.

'‘Why sit the ghost of murder on the threshold of our enterprise?” I pleaded. “Why do you make so much of this dog’s life ?” he growled back; “he wouldn’t care a hang abov > taking yours if it suited him.”

“Very likely,” I said, agreeing with him as the best policy under the circumstances, “but that makes no difference. Don’t stain our nath to fortune

with even guilty blood. It would only serve to make it more slippery than it is already. And there’s a fuller harvest to reap before his day is ended.” Sheen chuckled quietly to himself, an evidence that my -uggestions carried some weight. He did not, however, lay the pistol down, or for that matter even, lower the hammer.

“Do you think so, Caspar?” he asked. “But,” with a laugh, “dead men tell no tales and the fire of Hell’s hot.” Coulished suffered the keenest agony of suspense; his eyes were fixed with a strained intentness on the murderous weapon which at any moment might speed the death-dealing bullet home; his bony fingers gripped the edge f the table as he leaned forward', as though attracted by some invisible magnet to his doom. Opposite his, Sheen’s face, with a mocking smile playing over it, formed a strong contrast. His hold on tho pistol never yet for one moment relaxed.

“If lie’s so much to he despised,” I said, "why trouble-yourself whether he lives or dies.” Sheen continued to cover Coulished with the pistol, taking no notice of my question.

“To do him justice I ought to have shot him years ago,” he growled. Tho uncertainty of his manner was such that at any moment, I feared' ho might carry out his deadly purpose. “For God’s sake, Dan,” cried Coulished, speaking for the first time in a voice of pitiful entreaty, “have mercy!” “Mercy!” mimicked Sheen. “Have mercy! You flint-hearted wretch,” he went on. “How dare you speak of mercy? Did you ever show it when mercy was in your hands and would have cost you nothing. No ! Never! ‘Dead men tell no tales’! What about that devil’s phrase of yours? Dead men —-— 1 There’s a bigger reckoning to be paid. You closed your ears to the cry of the woman and child!”

“Damn you I” he cried suddenly. ‘Til let you off this time, but you can take that to remind you of my leniency.” He threw the pistol, full-cock as it was, straight at Coulished. It struck him in the .mouth; the shock loosened the trigger; there was a flash, and the bullet smashe'd into the side of the cabin, just above my bunk. Coulished was yelling with fear and pain, blood streamed from his mouth and Sheen sat in his chair beaming with brutal and fiendish glee. .For some moments he indulged his revengeful vein; then, jumping to his feet, went on deck, whither I followed him, first giving Coulished a stiff glass of grog and helping him into his bunk. The storm had passed; the patch ot light visible earlier on the horizon had spread itself over the sky; and once more the stars shone dimly overhead. A filmy vapour hung about the brig; the sea heaved with a long slow swell. “There’s something brewing, Caspar,” said the Captain, with a nod to windward, as I reached him where he stood in the bows. “There’s wind or calm near, but I don’t know which. Calm, I fancy, perhaps a fog.”

’ I was somewhat relieved at the cheeriness of the Captain’s tone after the bother we had had below. He proved to he right, for sure enough when we woke in the morning the brig lay becalmed, with drooping sails, enwrapped in the heavy gloom of a mist which soaked her from masthead to waterline. The deck was wet and slippery, and as for seeing, the keenest eye could noc perceive a thing a ship’s length away. The sailors stood in groups upon the deck, the moisture hanging in heads on their rough guernseys. We lay idly rocking, the water gently lapping against the brig’s sides anti there was no hope of further progress until the breeze should come.

CHAPTER VIII. The sameness of the days which followed and the prolonged inactivity, filled me with dire forebodings. The dull, dreariness of the heavy curtains of grey mist that enshrouded the brig, and the deadly calm which checked her motion, depressed our spirits and cast a gloom over us all. Stuck in the midst of the wide ocean, the winds asleep, unable to see or traverse the leagues that lay between us and our‘far-off goal, we were well nigh ready to give up in despair. What could we do but wait. The Captain, impatient- as a thwarted child, cursed the fate that robbed us of a wind.

At times the mist would shift, raising our hopes, but never once did it lift during those seven long days so much that you could see half a cable’s length. After the fourth day we became partly demoralised. The Captain had taken refuge in a sulk; -Coulished sat below fuddling himself with rum; one old salt came up to me and volunteered the cheering information that he had seen a fog that lasted for weeks, for which in my moodiness I was ungrateful enough not to thank him. Late on the seventh day we heard a sound to starboard that promised to relieve the tediousness of the situation. It was the rattle of a block upon a ship’s deck.. I was standing by the Captain, leaning over the gunwale, and saw his start of alarm. By some intuition Speering flashed across my mind. “My God!” cried Sheen. “We’ve got a mate here! Nothing above a whisper till we see what colours she carries!”

He gave these orders to all the crew, passing as silently as possible from one to the other. The conversation ceased as every man peered into the mist n the direction of the sound before mentioned and. listened with great intentness. By this time we could hear voices quite plainly. “Masqued women are dangerous, whatever they say,” whispered the Captain, which drew a suppressed laugh from the crew.

The stranger neared us till we thought that we could almost see her, so distinct became the noises on her deck. She was evidently drifting our way. The Captain, quick to discover the fact, was filled with the gravest apprehension. At last she approached so closely that the crew anxiously whispered among themselves, fearing tho possibility of a collision. As luck would have it this did not happen. Once, while waiting jn suspense, I could have sworn that I saw a ship’s outline in the fog, a delusion wholly conjured up by the excitement of the moment. A.t last we got her hearings by a question being asked in a tone of command that floated back to us. It was clear she had passed and was already ahead. “Any lift in the mist, Mr Troop ?”

I "at once recognised the T *£?ice of the man I had talked.with in the street at Bristol and looked at Sheen. He stood staring into the fog, the crew grouped about him in silence. By the lessening voices we were assured the stranger was outpacing us and we breathed more freely. But our escape was not to be so easily effected. We had not reckoned with Coulished. He had remained below in the cabin all the day drinking, and had not shown himself on deck. His debauch had so deprived him of his senses that he was utterly unconscious of the danger we were in. At this moment he tried to get on deck, clambering with difficulty up the companion. . Reaching the ton. he steadied himself with both hands and looked around with bleary eyes. Sheen’s back was turned and for the moment he did not see him. Then Coulished, unwitting of the situation, began to sing in his thin falsetto voice. It’s a gen’elman o’ fortune I would be,

With drink and blood galore-e-oh, A-sailin’ on the bosom o’ the heaving sea. And sending all the merchantmen to glory-oh.

Sheen turned sharply at the noise. Struck with astonishment, he .was unable to get to him in time to prevent the singing. Coulished’s drunken head was lolling backwards and forwards, Keeping time to the ditty as he leered vacantly out of, bloodshot eyes. I-Ie completed the first four lines with great gusto.

“Pretty song, Dan?” he asked with a maudlin grin as Sheen reached him. “Hold your blarsted tongue,” muttered Sheen, his subdued voice harsh with rage, clapping his hand over Coulished’ s mouth and forcing him down the companion. “Hero, slip the batch on one of you and batten him down. Cursed cock, crowing in tho middle of the night when all good folk ’d ho sleeping, I’ll wring his devilish nock for him, that’s what I’ll do, or my name’s not Sheen." “Ship ahoy!” cried a voice from the other boat. By the sound she nootnod to be some two cables’ length on the port bow. Coulished could not have been much hurt for his singing reached us from the cabin, whom he continued the song so forcibly interrupted, The Captain made no answer. “Ship ahoy,” it came again, this time in the voice of my Bristol friend. Sheen looked round the deck. “Silence 1” he ordered in a low wliis* per. Our unseen companions ahead of us could he heard talking among them* selves through the fog but they did not at once hail us again. For at least a quarter of an hour we waited in suspense. The voices became fainter as the two vessels drew further apart. The fog had not lifted and night was approaching. This the stranger realised as well as we and again she spoke us: “Ahoy, Captain Sheen 1” “Sheen. Well I’m damned; he knows us!” said one of the sailors. “Silence.” growled the Captain under bis breath. “Sheen, ahoy,” he cried again m slow.

and distinct tones. “I know you’re there if I can’t see you. I’ll board you when it c-lears. Now you’ve got tiio best of it, but it won’t be for long,” lie threatened.

Sheen retaliated with a loud laugh. “He laughs loudest who laughs last,” taunted the voice through the fog, using the very words that Sheen had used earlier to Coulished. “We may drift apart to-night but we shall yet meet face to face. It will be mv turn then, Captain Sheen. I’ve waited a good many years. I’ve sought you on land and sea, ■ but you’ve slipped me up t.n now. I’m bound to have you sooner or later. This may he your last cruise. Take heed!”

His voice had grown fainter, showing lie was drifting with a strong current and that the distance between - u.s was widening. Darkness was coming on apace, bringing a look 'of relief to Sheen’s anxious face.

“Gab as you please now we’re clear, men,” he said. “To hell with his boasting. Out of sight out of mind. Sort o’ fog-ship, my lads, manned-'by a pretty ghostly crew, I guess. Come oh, Caspar. we’ll go to victuals." I followed him down the companion to the cabin, where we found Coulished still on his back, still crooning his miseiable doggerel. I looked for Sheen to fly into a passion. Contrary to expectation the Captain did not take the least notice of him. Fetching out a bottle of rum, he filled two mugs and motioned me to take one. Then seizing the other he glanced cunningly at ms and said;

“Here’s to our mate in the fog, Caspar. A long drift to him and a sunken rock at the end of it!” I drank the toast with a mental reservation about the rock.

Draining his glass, the Captain snuffed the guttering clip with his wetted finger and thumb, and sitting down gave me a lesson in Maori as calmly as if the events of the afternoon had passed completely out of his mind. Next morning at daybreak we were running before a fresh breeze under a clear sky, with never a sail in sight. Nor did we see anything of our pursuer for the next ten days, at the end of which we sighted laud. Early one morning I awoke and found that Sheen and Coulished had gone on deck before me. Dressing as speedily as possible, I followed them. The brig, with shortened sail, was running with a light breeze along a rugged and rocky coast. A heavy ground-swell was breaking in white surf upon our larboard bow, while beyond the land rose in a series of broken hills, which culminated in an extended mountain chain. I went up to Sheen where he stood talking to Coulished amidships. “Good morning, Caspar,” he said. “Come and take your first look at land. This is the island we’re making for.” “Now Zealand ?” I asked, eagerly gazing at the passing hills.

“No less,” ho answered, with a patronising wave of his hand. “ ‘No man’s land’ or ‘Any man’s land.’ We’ve struck it a bit too far north and she’s heading south now.” “A pretty place to come so far to, interposed Coulished gloomily. Sheen slapped him on the shoulder with his hand, with- a self-satisfied air. 'MW!; up, Martin,” he cried. “Be--o‘iu«e you nursed stays on one tack, it’3 ni> reason tor expecting shipwreck on the other; not at all. As for it being 0 pretty place, why, beauty’s only skin deep at the best. What do you see ahead, Caspar ?” _ ~ I was peering into the sunlit distance. down the coast. The blue sea rinnlod by the breeze stretched in front nf us. We seemed to he crossing the mouth of a large bight, sailing light into a .iutting cape of land above which a loftv mountain with snoiv-clad peak arose —the first I had everseen l aaM d in silent wonder. The Captain, seeing my admiration, smiled contenfc-e<“Puke-haupapa,” he said, pointing, and calling Coulished’s attention to it “Now then, you wouldn’t have found anything like that in Australia and you have to thank me for not letting you have your own way, Martin. -t was a regular sweetheart of Ronald’s, it was, and I’m a bit .soft on it myself, if the truth’s told. Putting aside talk

of that kind ‘we’ve got a good sail down the .coast and should, if all’s well, anchor under Kapiti to-morrow. From there we’ll make for the swag without delay.” His'voice sank low as Morgan passed close to us and we all instinctively became silent. Throughout that day we stood on the deck watching the land, chatting at intervals or passing the Captain’s glass from one to another. a Even with its aid nothing was to be seen but patches of woodland and fern-covered slopes. Once or twice a blue haze, which I took for smoke, seemed to rise from the shore. We rounded the cape about midday and found . ourselves pretty close to the mountain. It was a beautiful sight as it rose above the tops of the jagged ranges* -a perfect cone, snow-capped, and with fleecy clouds about its summit.

As we stood down the strange coast I stayed on dock far into the night, alone with my oyrn excited thoughts, the restless sea around, and a starry rcof above. The little brig roiled a good, deal on the swell that- broke in white surf a few miles to larboard, but she made good way under a fair breeze. At last I went below, my clothes drenched with dew, and lying down,

scon fell into a fitful sleep, in which dreams of savages and mountain fastnesses had a foremost*place. About eleven o’clock on the morrow we ran in under the shelter of Kapiti and found safe anchorage. Our arrival caused some stir upon the island and barely was the anchor aground before a large canoe was launched. .It came at a good rate towards us, manned by nine or ten paddlers, Sheen watching them eagerly .with his -glass. ‘‘Caspar,” he said at length. “When they come up with us, mind you give the man that sits in the stern of that canoe a regular broadside of a stare, for he’s pretty near the biggest chief in this country, if lie’s the man I think he is. A regular hawk," with a headpiece on him that’d be a credit to any of us. His name’s Te Rauparaha. Don’t you forget it or him either.”

As the canoe came under our bows

the sailors threw down a rope, which one of the Maoris caught. A ship was evidently quite a familiar sight and

the man Sheen had called my attention to climbed nimbly on deck, and with a proud, swaggering gait, strutted" across to where wo stood. Passing the

sailors as if unworthy of his notice, fie * marched right up to Sheen, singling him out at once as our leader. His bloodshot eyes rolled from side to side in their rapid survey of. our surroundings. There was no moment from his boyhood when Te Rauparaha was not great, but when, realising the white man’s power, he made his masterly movement upon Kapiti, he became the greatest of his race. He was now in middle life and liis past history was plainly written on his face. His regular, clear cut features and small stature belied him, giving little idea of his ferocious character or of his. sudden and fierce activity. Beetling brows, which he at times raised in a manner peculiarly Ills own, overhung his tigerish eyes. Those eyetj were his most prominent feature, and in them the latent fires of lust and cruelty ever smouldered, to burst at times into flashes of insatiable flame u Treachery lurked there as well, and'in the way the lower jaw was clenched there was for a vanquished foe the prophecy of a relentless fate. It was impossible to look upon the man without being impressed by his strong personality,- -by his fitness for the position he held, by his power to rule and by the indomitable will by which he maintained his sway in spite of the devilry and untrustworthiness of which he could be guilty. To do him justice these latter were as much the result of earl}’ training and the traditions of his people, as of any vice in his own inner nature. ‘Tena-koe Rauparaha,” said the Captain, holding out a great hand, which the Maori took with calm dignity. “How is it that you are away down here? I saw you last at Kawhia, where you dwelt in peace under the shadow of the beautiful Pirongia.”

Te Rauparaha smiled, showing a row of fang-like teeth. “Tlie land of my people was small for them,” he answered.. Peace is for the child that plays with balls and tops, but. war is the man’s work. They have increased, the remnant of my fathers -—they fatten on the brains of their enemies and grow great in a new

place.” He repeated the peculiar movement of his eyebrows, menacing us with a piercing.stare. .Sheen laughed softly, while Coulished cringed back against the railing of the brig. “What 4oes the pakeha want with Te Hauparaha ?” asked the chief, eyeing the Captain cunningly. Sheen glanced round at the sailors who were standing about the. deck. Morgan, the mate, was suspiciously near, listening with all his ears for anything he might pick up regarding the object of our voyage, or our future movements. Though he did not understand their language he could learn a good the use of his sharp eyes. > “JPlax, possibly, from the lands of tip great chief,” said Sheen with meaning. “We ’ will give hitu’ of muskets. But

come to the belly of the ship where we can deal and drink waipiro (strong water).” ■The Captain led the way down the companion, motioning Te Rauparaha, Coulished and me to follow him. In the cabin he produced tlie rum bottle, the use of which the Maori knew only <too well. His eyes glistened with greedy anticipation as Sheen slowly poured out a mugful and handed it to him. Restraining his appetite he only drank part of it, wary of dulling his faculties while lie was in our power. Throughout .the interview he kept his eyes fixed on Sheen, paying no attention to Coulished or me, a studied neglect full of meaning, “What flax does the pakeha want?” he asked. Sheen answered deliberately:—“The flax that his ancestors left on the shores of Waipounamu. .Listen, llangatira. Back iii the mists of time—two—three men’s lifetime, say, there drifted over the deep a big waka with wings, like this in which we talk. It was full of the treasures .of . the pakeha and my ancestor was its chief. That waka' drifted in sight of your land and in front of a great storm went ashore on the coast of ’Waipounamu. I and the rangatiras with me would gaze oil the ship where she lies, wrecked on the coast.” “Go and gaze!” said Te Rauparaha shortly. “What have the Ngatitoa to, dp with the coasts of Waipounamu.” “Is not the whole land of Aotea the heritage of the Ngatitoa.” returned Sheen, “and are not the Ngatitoa the friends of the white man ? The Ngatitoa are the holders of the secrets of generations—the keepers of the sacred caves of Pirongia—they know the history of past' time. We come to Te Rauparaha to bring him a present and to pay him that high respect which is due to a rangatira of his birth arid fame, which has spread over the sea.” Well versed in the intricacies of native character. Sheen indulged in a subtle flattery that was lost on me for the moment. I did not realise that to have Te Rauparaha for a friend was to win a secure footing in New Zealand. “T know nothing,” said the Maqri. “Perhaps there are others of my tribe who know. What is tlie present of the pakeha ?” Sheen went to liis bunk, and taking from beside it the chamois leather case, unwrapped it and displa3 r ed the greenstone mere to Te Rauparaha’s astonished gaze. He started to his feet and ovei his, face there flashed a look of ill-cont rolled eagerness. . “The mere,” he exclaimed, with unconcealed surprise, “the axe of the Ngatiapa! The axe of conquest!” “So the rangatira knows it,” cried Sheen. “I got it from a pakeha who had stolen it from the Ngatiapa. Is not this a present worthy the acceptance of the Ngatitoa. I give it to the great Chief and to his tribe, because of the friendship he shows to the pakelia. In return he will be my friend, and help me to the possession of the wreck of my ancestors.” With studied formality Sheen handed the mere to Te Rauparaha, who carefully wrapped it up with many a grunt of satisfaction. His manner towards Sheen changed and he at once became open and cordial. “I have said I know nothing,” he said, ‘‘but there arc those among my tube who know. If the pakeha ranga tints will return with me to Kapiti 1 wil 1 inquire for them, and all that is in the knowledge of the Ngatitoa shall be the pakelia’s.” “It’s late to-night; we will come tomorrow,” Sheen remonstrated. “There is a whare for the pakeha,” urged Te Rauparaha, a note in liis voice that made a refusal of liis hospitality nothing less than a discourtesy. “We must go,” whispered Sheen to Coulished and me in English. “I will stay in charge of the ship,” Coulished suggested in trepidation. “I’ll see you at Jericho first, Martin,” cried Sheen. Then giving him a playful poke in the ribs lie proceeded—- “ Morgan’s a first-rate seaman and safß as a bank. I’ll leave him in charge. It ■ wouldn’t be tika (ettiquette) for you as a rangitira to show fear and make yourself scarce. And you, Caspar, don’t forget your belt.” The Captain signified to Te Rauparaha our acceptance of the invitation and then went up the companion to give Morgan his orders. Going to my bunk I put on a belt which had been designed by Sheen, specially made in Bristol for carrying treasure. It passed round the waist and over the shoulder, being one capacious and continuous pouch. In front it carried a heavy knife and a pistol. Turning round after 1 had buckled it on I met the searching and suspicious gaze of Te Rauparaha. I would have liked to talk with him, but for a moment was at a loss what to say. Then, I noticed that liis heair was-tied up in a knot on the top of his head and had a sthange feather stuck in it for ornament. ■'“The feather,” I said, pointing, “what is it?” “The feather of the big bird, the moa,’ ; . he answered, “the eater of the lizard.’ 5 “Where do they live?” I asked. “Here?” . “KV 5 lie said, “I hare never seen

them. They are dead here since my father Tuiliaua passed into the great silence. This feather he took from a big one near Pirongia. They are stillon Pounainu. One of my tribe saw one there many months back. He was very old —he may be dead.” Sheen’s voice interrupted us, calling down the companion. Coulished had already left the cabin, glad to get out of the presence of the chief, whom he instinctively feared, and Te Rauparaha arid I follow him up on deck. - The Captain was standing beside Morgan; Coulished was leaning over the ship’s side, looking over tlie strait which separated the two islands of New Zealand. As he turned round his face wore a melancholy expression, full of dread and apprehension. “Well, Rangatira,” said Sheen to Te Rauparaha. as we came to a ‘stand beside him. “Me are ready. Is there room in the canoe or shall.l take the ship’s boat?” “There is room, pakeha,” lie said, smiling. “ComQ.” He led the way over the side, settled himself in the canoe, where the natives made room for Sheen, Coulished and me, and then pushed off towards the island. The Maoris who formed the crew paddled in perfect time and the canoe sped swiftly from the brig’s side, leaving a thin wake behind it. Looking back, I saw Morgan forward watching us, while two or three sailors stood about the deck. The brig rolled gently with the. slight swell. Turning my eyes away, from her towards the island, I remembered it was there that all my interest now lay, and my heart boat faster as every stroke of the strong brown arms carried us nearer the shore.

(To be Continued.)