THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 /• 
 
 -/
 
 MAJOR VIGOUREUX
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 A Mayor of Troy 
 
 The White Wolf 
 
 Merry Garden and Other Stories
 
 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 By "Q" 
 
 (A. T. QUILLER-COUCH) 
 
 THIRD EDITION 
 
 METHUEN & CO. 
 
 36 ESSEX STREET W.C. 
 
 LONDON
 
 First Published . . September igoy 
 Second Edition . . October rgoy 
 Third Edition . . Decctiiber igoj
 
 ?R 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. IN THE GARRISON GARDEN .... I 
 
 II. SERGEANT ARCHELAUS IS REFITTED . . lO 
 
 III. THE COMMANDANT FINESSES A KNAVE . . 23 
 
 IV. THE GUN IN THE GREAT FOG . . -35 
 V. THE SS. MILO . . . • • -45 
 
 VI. HOW VASHTI CAME TO THE ISLANDS . . 57 
 
 VII. TRIBULATIONS OF MRS. POPE AND MISS GABRIEL . 68 
 
 VIII. A BRIEF REVENGE . . . • -78 
 
 IX. THE SALVING OF SS. MILO . . . -85 
 
 X. THE ADVENTURES OF FOUR SHILLINGS . . lOO 
 
 XI. PLAN OF CAMPAIGN . . . • . II4 
 
 XII. SAARON ISLAND . . . . .127 
 
 XIIL THE LADY FROM THE SEA . . . . I38 
 
 XIV. AFTER SERVICE . . • . • 15^ 
 
 XV. BREFAR CHURCH . . • . -163 
 
 XVI. THE LORD PROPRIETOR'S AUDIENCE . . 176 
 
 XVII. THE LORD PROPRIETOR RECEIVES A DOUBLE SHOCK 1 84 
 
 XVIII. VASHTI PLEADS FOR SAARON . . •193 
 
 XIX. THE COMMANDANT'S CONSCIENCE . . . 2o8 
 
 XX. THE GUITAR AND THE CASEMENT . . . 220 
 
 XXI. SUSPICIONS . . . . • -233 
 
 XXII. CONCERNING PIPER'S HOLE .... 243 
 
 XXIII. THE LORD PROPRIETOR HEARS A SIREN SING . 255
 
 VI 
 
 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 LINNET SEES A MERMAID 
 
 . 269 
 
 XXV. 
 
 MISSING ! . . . . 
 
 . 275 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 THE SEARCH .... 
 
 . 285 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 THE COUNCIL OF TWELVE . 
 
 . 298 
 
 CXVIII. 
 
 THE FINDING .... 
 
 • 309 
 
 
 CONCLUSION .... 
 
 • 319
 
 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 IN THE GARRISON GARDEN 
 
 " A RCHELAUS," said the Commandant, "where 
 
 jt\. did you get those trousers ? " 
 
 Sergeant Archelaus, who, as he dug in the neglected 
 garden, had been exposing a great quantity of back-view 
 (for he was a long man), straightened himself up, faced 
 about, and, grounding his long-handled spade as it were 
 a musket, stood with palms crossed over the top of it. 
 
 " Off the Lord Proprietor," he answered. 
 
 The Commandant, seated on a bench under the 
 veronica hedge, a few yards higher up the slope, laid 
 down his book, took off his spectacles, wiped them and 
 replaced them very deliberately. 
 
 "The Lord Proprietor? I do not understand " 
 
 His face had reddened a little, as it usually did at 
 mention of the Lord Proprietor. 
 
 " Made me a present of 'em," explained Sergeant 
 Archelaus curtly. " You don't mean to say you 
 haven't noticed 'em till this minute ? " 
 
 The Commandant put the question aside. " The 
 Lord Proprietor has no right to be oftering presents to 
 my men — least of all, presents of clothes." 
 
 " If the Government won't send over stores, nor you 
 I
 
 2 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 write for any, I don't see how the man can help himself. 
 'Tisn't regulation pattern for the R'yal Artillery, I'll 
 grant you : not the sort of things you'd wear on the 
 right of the line. In fact, he told me 'tis an old pair 
 he used to carry when he went deer-stalkin'." 
 
 "They are hideous, Archelaus ; not to mention that 
 they don't fit you in the Jeast." 
 
 " They don't look so bad when I'm sitting down," said 
 Archelaus, after a moment's thought, and with an air 
 of forced cheerfulness. 
 
 " If that's all you can say in extenuation ! " 
 
 " Well, 'twas kindly meant, any way ; for the old 
 ones were a scandal — yes, be sure. What with sea-water 
 and scrambling after gulls' eggs, they was becoming a 
 byword all over the Islands." 
 
 The Commandant winced, not for the first time in this 
 conv^ersation. 
 
 " Treacher makes his clothes last," he objected. 
 
 " Sam Treacher's a married man, and gets his bad 
 luck different." 
 
 "But — but couldn't you ask Mrs. Treacher to take 
 your old ones in hand and put in a patch or two ? That 
 might carry you on for a few months ; and, if you 
 grudge the expense, I don't mind subscribing a shilling 
 or so." 
 
 Sergeant Archelaus shook his head. " What's the 
 use?" he asked. '"Tis but puttin' off the evil day. If 
 Her Majesty won't send us clothes, we must fall back 
 on Providence. Besides which, I've taken the edge oft 
 these things, and don't want to begin over again. Last 
 Wednesday I wore 'em over to the Oft'-Islands, to 
 practise 'em on the sea-birds; and last evening after 
 dusk I walked through the town with 'em — yes, sir, 
 right out past the church and back again, my blood
 
 IN THE GARRISON GARDEN 3 
 
 being up ; and came home and cut a square out of the 
 old ones to wrap round the bung of the water-butt." 
 
 The Commandant eyed the sergeant's legs in silence. 
 He could not trust himself to speak ; and after a minute, 
 cramming his clenched fists into the pockets of his 
 frayed fatigue-jacket, he swung about on his heel and 
 walked out of the garden with angry strides. 
 
 Was the Lord Proprietor making sport of him ? — 
 purposely making him and his Garrison the laughing- 
 stock of the Islands? 
 
 The Commandant walked up the road with a hot 
 heart : past the barracks and beyond them to the down, 
 where a ruined windmill overlooked the sea. He 
 wanted to be alone, and up here he could count upon 
 solitude. He wanted to walk off his ill-humour. But 
 the ascent was steep, and at the windmill he was forced 
 to stand still and draw breath. 
 
 At his feet lay the Islands, bathed in the light of a 
 fast-reddening October sunset. Against such a sunset, 
 if the air be very clear, you may see them from the 
 cliffs of the mainland — a low, dark cloud far out in the 
 Atlantic ; and in old days the Commandant had repined 
 often enough at the few leagues which then had cut him 
 off from the world, from active service, from promotion. 
 
 Gradually, as time went on, he had grown resigned, 
 and with resignation he had learnt to be proud of his 
 kingdom — for his kingdom de facto it was. The 
 Islanders had used to speak of him sometimes as The 
 Commandant, but oftener as The Governor. (They 
 never called him The Governor nowadays.) His 
 military establishment, to be sure — consisting of a 
 master-gunner, four other gunners, and two or three 
 aged sergeants — scarcely accorded with his rank ot 
 major ; but by way of compensation he was as President
 
 4 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 of the Council of Twelve, the chief civil magistrate of 
 the Islands. 
 
 This requires a word or two of explanation. The 
 King of England retained, as he yet retains, military 
 authority over the Islands, and from him, through the 
 Commander-in-Chief, our friend held his appointment 
 as military governor. But His Majesty King William 
 III. and his successors, by a lease two or three times 
 renewed, had granted " all those His Majesty's 
 territories and rocks " — so the wording ran — to a great 
 and unknown person of whom the Islanders spoke 
 reverentially as The Duke, "together with all sounds, 
 harbours, and sands, within the circuit of the said Isles ; 
 and all lands, tenements, meadows, pastures, grounds, 
 feedings, fishings, fishing places, mines of tin, lead, and 
 coals, and all profits of the same, and full power 
 to dig, work, and mine in the premises ; and also all 
 the marshes, void grounds, woods, underwoods, rents, 
 reversions, services, and all other profits, rights, com- 
 modities, advantages, and emoluments within the said 
 Isles : and a moiety of all shipwreck, the other moiety 
 to be received by the Lord High Admiral ; as also all 
 His Majesty's Liberties, Franchises, Authorities, and 
 Jurisdictions, as had before been used in the said 
 Islands ; with full power to hear, examine, and finally 
 determine all plaints, suits, matters, actions, contro- 
 versies, contentions, and demands whatever, moved and 
 depending between party and party inhabiting the said 
 Isles (all heresies, treasons, matters touching life or 
 member of man, or title of land ; and also all contro- 
 versies and causes touching ships, and other things 
 belonging to the High Court of Admiralty, always 
 excepted) " — all this for an annual rent of Forty Pounds. 
 
 The Duke, in short, was by his lease made Lord
 
 IN THE GARRISON GARDEN 5 
 
 Proprietor, with all civil jurisdiction. But, being too 
 great a man to reside in the Islands, or even to visit 
 them, he entrusted his business to a resident Agent, and 
 deputed his magistracy to an elective Council of Twelve, 
 over which the Commandant for the time being invari- 
 ably presided. But this custom (it should be explained) 
 rested on courtesy and not upon right. Founded upon 
 compromise — for the boundaries between the civil and 
 military jurisdictions were at some points not precisely 
 determined — it had been found to work smoothly 
 enough in practice, after our British way. It had stood 
 the test of a hundred and fifty years when, in the year 
 after Sevastopol, Major Narcisse Vigoureux arrived in 
 the Islands to take over the military command, and the 
 Duke nominated him for the Presidency quite as a 
 matter of course. 
 
 As President, he had power, with the assent of the 
 Court, to inflict fines, whippings, imprisonment — this 
 last with the limitation that he could not commit to any 
 prison on the mainland, but only to the Island lock-up ; 
 and also, if he chose, to prescribe the ducking-stool for 
 refractory or scolding women. The office carried no 
 salary ; but as Governor under the Lord Proprietor he 
 enjoyed a valuable perquisite in the harbour dues 
 collected from the shipping. Every vessel visiting the 
 port or hoisting the Queen's colours was liable, on 
 coming to anchor or grounding, to pay the sum of two 
 shillings and two pence. All foreigners paid double. 
 And since, in addition to ships putting in from abroad, 
 it sometimes happened that two hundred sail of coasters 
 would be driven by easterly gales to shelter in St. Lide's 
 Harbour, or roadstead, or in Cromwell's Sound, you 
 may guess that this made a very pleasant addition to 
 the Commandant's military pay.
 
 6 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 In short, during a dozen years Major Narcisse 
 Vigoureux had been, for an unmarried man, an ex- 
 ceedingly happy one. If you ask me how an officer 
 bearing such a name happened in command of a British 
 garrison, I answer that he was not a Frenchman, but a 
 Channel Islander of good Jersey descent ; and this 
 again helped him to understand the folk over whom 
 he ruled. The wrongdoers feared him ; but they 
 were few. By the rest of the population, including his 
 soldiers, he was beloved, respected, not a little envied. 
 He mingled with zest in the small social amusements 
 of Garland Town, the capital of the Islands. He shone 
 at picnics and water-parties. He played a fair hand at 
 whist. His manner towards ladies was deferential ; 
 towards men, dignified without a trace of patronage or 
 self-conceit. All voted him a good fellow. At first, 
 indeed — for he practised small economies, and his linen, 
 though clean, was frayed — they suspected him of stingi- 
 ness, until by accident the Vicar discovered that a great 
 part of his pay went to support his dead brother's 
 family — a widow and two girls who lived at Notting 
 Hill, London, in far from affluent circumstances. 
 
 In spite of this the Commandant's lot might fairly 
 have been called enviable until the day which 
 terminated the eighty-nine years' lease upon which 
 the Duke held the Islands, Everyone took it for 
 granted that he would apply, as his predecessors had 
 twice applied, for a renewal. But no; like a bolt from 
 the blue came news that the Duke, an old man, had 
 waived his application in favour of an unknown 
 purchaser — unknown, that is to say, in the Islands — 
 a London banker, recently created a baronet, by name 
 Sir Caesar Hutchins. 
 
 In general, all Garland Town relied for information
 
 IN THE GARRISON GARDEN 7 
 
 about persons of rank and title upon Miss Martha 
 Gabriel, a well-to-do spinster lady, daughter of a 
 former agent of the Duke's. But Miss Gabriel's copy 
 of The Peerage and Baronetage of Great Britain and 
 Ireland dated from 1845, and Sir Caesar's title being 
 of more recent creation, the curious had to wait until 
 a newer volume arrived from the mainland. Mean- 
 while, at their whist parties twice a week, the gentry 
 of St. Lide's indulged in a hundred brisk surmises, 
 but without alarm. " Unconscious of their doom, the 
 little victims played." It was agreed, of course, that 
 the new Lord Proprietor would not take up his abode 
 in the Islands. For where was there a suitable 
 residence? On the whole the Commandant had little 
 doubt that things would go on as before; but he felt 
 some uneasiness for Mr. Pope, the Duke's agent. 
 
 Within a fortnight, however, came two fresh an- 
 nouncements, of which the first — a letter from Sir 
 Csesar, continuing Mr. Pope in his office — gratified 
 everyone. But the second was terrible indeed. The 
 War Office had decided to disband the Garrison and 
 remove its guns. 
 
 Major Vigoureux' face had whitened as he read that 
 letter, five years ago. It whitened yet at the remem- 
 brance of it. As for his hair, it had been whitening 
 ever since. 
 
 For dreadful things had happened. To begin with, 
 the new Lord Proprietor had upset prophecy by 
 coming into residence, and had reared himself a 
 handsome house on the near island of Iniscaw. . . . 
 But here for a while let us forbear to retrace those 
 five years with their humiliating memories. It is 
 enough that the Commandant now walked with a 
 stoop ; that he wore not only his linen frayed but a
 
 8 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 frayed coat also ; and that he who of old had so often 
 wished that England would take note of his Islands 
 against the western sun, now prayed rather that the 
 fogs would cover them and cut them off from sight 
 for ever. He had practical reasons, too, for such a 
 prayer ; but of these he was not thinking as he turned 
 there by the windmill, and spied Sergeant Treacher 
 approaching along the ridge and trundling a wheel- 
 barrow full of manure. The level sun-rays, painting 
 the turf to a green almost unnaturally vivid, and 
 gilding the straw of the manure, passed on to flame 
 upon Sergeant Treacher's breast as though beneath 
 his unbuttoned tunic he wore a corselet of burnished 
 brass. The Commandant blinked, again removed his 
 glasses, and, having repolished, resumed them. 
 
 " Treacher, what are you wearing ? " 
 
 " Meanin' the weskit, sir ? " asked Treacher. 
 
 " Is it a waistcoat ? " 
 
 "Well, sir, it used to be a nantimacassar ; but Miss 
 Gabriel had it made up for me, all the shirts in store 
 bein' used up, so to speak." 
 
 Too well the Commandant recognised it ; an abomina- 
 tion of crochet work in stripes, four inches wide, of 
 scarlet, green, orange-yellow and violet. For years — 
 in fact ever since he remembered Miss Gabriel's front- 
 parlour — it had decorated the back of Miss Gabriel's sofa. 
 
 " She said, sir, that with the autumn drawing on, and 
 the winter coming, it would cut up nicely for a weskit," 
 Treacher explained. 
 
 " Miss Gabriel," began the Commandant. " Miss 
 Gabriel has no business " 
 
 " No, sir ? " suggested Treacher, after a pause. 
 
 " You will take it off. You will take it off this instant, 
 and hand it to me."
 
 IN THE GARRISON GARDEN 9 
 
 " Yes, sir." Treacher obediently slipped off his tunic. 
 " I don't like the thing myself; it's too noticeable, 
 though warming. Miss Gabriel called it a Chester- 
 field." 
 
 " It's a conspiracy ! " said the Commandant.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 SERGEANT ARCHELAUS IS REFITTED 
 
 THE Commandant, still with a hot heart, walked 
 for a little way beside Sergeant Treacher. He 
 carried the offending waistcoat slung across his arm, 
 and once or twice hesitated on the verge of indignant 
 speech ; but by and by seemed to recollect himself, 
 halted, turned, and, parting from Treacher without 
 more words, marched off for his customary evening 
 walk around the fortifications. 
 
 Let us follow him. 
 
 The Garrison occupied the heights of a peninsula 
 connected with St. Lide's by a low sandy isthmus, 
 across which it looked towards the "country side" of 
 the island, though this country side was in fact con- 
 cealed by rising ground, for the most part uncultivated, 
 where sheets of mesembryanthemum draped the out- 
 cropping ledges of granite. At the foot of the hill, 
 around the pier and harbour to the north and east, 
 clustered St. Hugh's Town, and climbed by one devious 
 street to the Garrison gate. From where he stood the 
 Commandant could almost look down its chimneys. 
 Along the isthmus straggled a few houses in double 
 line, known as New Town ; and beyond, where the 
 isthmus widened, lay the Old Town around its Parish 
 Church. These three together made Garland Town, 
 the capital of the Islands ; and the population of St. 
 
 10
 
 SERGEANT ARCHELAUS IS REFITTED ii 
 
 Lide's — town, garrison, and country side — numbered 
 a little over fourteen hundred. Garrison Hill, rising 
 (as we have seen) with a pretty steep acclivity, attains 
 the height of a hundred and ten feet above sea level. 
 It measures about three-quarters of a mile in length 
 and a quarter of a mile in breadth, and the lines of 
 fortification extended around the whole hill (except 
 upon the north-west side, which happened to be the 
 most important), a circuit of one mile and a quarter. 
 
 You entered them beneath a massive but ruinous 
 gateway, surmounted by a bell which Sergeant Treacher 
 rang regularly at six, nine, and twelve o'clock in the 
 morning, and at three, six, and nine p.m., and struck 
 to announce the intervening hours : for the Islands 
 had no public clock. To the left of this gateway 
 the Commandant always began his round, starting 
 from King George's Battery, to which in old days the 
 Islanders had looked for warning of the enemy's 
 approach. Then it had mounted seven long eighteen- 
 
 pounders: now The Commandant sighed and 
 
 moved on ; past the Duke's Battery (four eighteen- 
 pounders), the Vixen (one eighteen and one nine- 
 pounder), and along by a breastwork pierced with 
 embrasures to the important battery on Day Point, 
 at the extreme south-east. Here five thirty-two 
 pounders — and, three hundred yards away to the west, 
 in the great Windlass Battery, no fewer than eleven 
 guns of the same calibre — had grinned defiance at the 
 ships of France. To-day the grass grew on their 
 empty platforms, the nettles sprouted from their angles, 
 and he — What was he doing here ? 
 
 I fear the answer may provoke a smile. He v/as 
 drawing his pay. 
 
 The guns, the garrison, were gone these five years;
 
 12 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 but by some oversight of the War Office neither the 
 Commandant nor his two sergeants had been retired. 
 Regularly, month by month, his pay-sheet had been 
 accepted ; regularly the full amount had been handed 
 to him by Mr. Fossell, agent at Garland Town for 
 Messrs. Curtis' Bank on the mainland. Clearly there was 
 a mistake somewhere, and often enough his conscience 
 smote him, urging that he ought in honour to call 
 attention to it. He was defrauding the Government, 
 and, through the Government, the taxpayer. 
 
 Yes ; conscience put this plainly enough, and he felt 
 it to be unanswerable. But if he obeyed and published 
 the mistake — good Heavens ! what would happen to 
 him ? Already, three years ago, the Lord Proprietor 
 had resumed the shipping dues which had made so 
 welcome an addition to his income. On the strength 
 of them the Commandant had made a too liberal allow- 
 ance to his brother's widow ; and now, to maintain it, 
 he was driven to deny himself all but the barest 
 necessary expenses. Yet how could he cut it down ? 
 The two girls were growing up. Their mother had 
 sent them to a costly school. As it was, her letters 
 burdened him with complaints of her poverty : for she 
 was a peevish, grasping woman — poor soul ! 
 
 Again, if he published the mistake, he impoverished 
 not himself only but his two sergeants : and Treacher 
 was a married man. He often drugged his conscience 
 with this. But his conscience, being healthy, was soon 
 awake and tormenting him. 
 
 It humiliated him, too. Government, which sent him 
 his full pay, never sent him stores, ammunition, or 
 clothing for his men. He wanted no ammunition ; but 
 his men needed clothing — and he dared not ask for it. 
 Their uniforms were a scandal to the Islands. More-
 
 SERGEANT ARCHELAUS IS REFITTED 13 
 
 over, the price of hens' eggs ruling high in Garland 
 Town, he had discovered that gulls' eggs made a 
 tolerable substitute. It was in scrambling after gulls' 
 eggs for his Commanding Officer that Sergeant 
 Archelaus had ruined his small-clothes. . . . And now 
 you know why in the course of his discussion with 
 Sergeant Archelaus the Commandant had winced more 
 than once. 
 
 Worst of all, the fatal secret tied his tongue under all 
 the many slights which the Lord Proprietor put on him. 
 No ; worst of all was the self-reproach he carried about 
 in his own breast. But none the less the Commandant 
 chafed under the Lord Proprietor's tyranny, which was 
 the harder to bear for being slightly contemptuous. He 
 felt that all his old friends pitied him while they turned 
 to worship the rising sun ; while as for Miss Gabriel 
 (who had never been his friend), he feared her caustic 
 tongue worse than the devil. 
 
 But to attack him thus through his men ! 
 
 The Commandant was a sincere Christian : ever 
 willing to believe the best of his kind, incapable of 
 harbouring malice or, except in the brief heat of 
 temper, of imputing it to others. In the short three 
 hundred yards between the Day Point and Windlass 
 Batteries he repented his worst thoughts. He acquitted 
 Miss Gabriel and the Lord Proprietor of conspiracy. 
 The coincidence of the two gifts was fortuitous : they 
 had been offered without guile, if also without sufficient 
 care for his feelings. But this kind of thing must not 
 happen again, and obviously the most tactful way to 
 prevent it was, not to remonstrate with Miss Gabriel 
 or with the Lord Proprietor, but to provide (somehow) 
 his two sergeants with a refit. 
 
 The Commandant had arrived at this conclusion and
 
 14 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 at the Sand Pit Battery (five thirty-two pounders) 
 almost simultaneously, when, across the breastwork, he 
 was aware of Mr. Rogers, Lieutenant R.N., and Inspect- 
 ing Commander of the Coastguard, standing at the head 
 of the slope just outside the fortifications and conning 
 the sea through a telescope. 
 
 " Hullo ! " .said Mr. Rogers — a short man with a jolly 
 smile — lowering his glass and facing suddenly about at 
 the sound of the Commandant's footfall. " Hullo ! and 
 good-evening ! " 
 
 " Good-evening ! " responded Major Vigoureux. 
 
 " Queer-looking sky out yonder." 
 
 " So it is, now you come to mention it." The Com- 
 mandant, shaken out of his brown study, slowly 
 concentrated his gaze on the western horizon. 
 
 " See that bank of fog? I don't know what to make 
 of it. No wind at all ; the glass steady as a rock ; and 
 a heavy swell rolling up from westward. Take hold of 
 my glass and bring it to bear on the Monk " — this was 
 the lighthouse guarding the westernmost reef of the 
 Off-Islands. " Every now and then a sea'll hide half 
 the column." 
 
 " For my part," said the Commandant, " I've been 
 out of all calculation with the weather for a week past. 
 It's uncanny for the time of year." 
 
 " There's the devil of a rumpus going on somewhere, 
 to account for the sea that's running," said Mr. Rogers, 
 and checked himself in the act of handing the telescope 
 across the breastwork, as he caught sight of Sergeant 
 Treacher's waistcoat which the Commandant was 
 nervously shifting from his right arm to his left. 
 
 " Hullo ! " said Mr. Rogers, again. 
 
 " It's — it's a sort of waistcoat," explained the Com- 
 mandant.
 
 SERGEANT ARCHELAUS IS REFITTED 15 
 
 " It may be," said Mr. Rogers. " But it used to be 
 the Gabriel's antimacassar." Mr. Rogers winked, for 
 he had (as the other knew to his cost) an artless, 
 primitive sense of pleasantry. "A gage cT amour, I'll 
 bet any man a sovereign ! Come now ! " 
 
 " I assure you " 
 
 " And you two pretending before everyone that 
 you're at daggers drawn ! Trust an old one for 
 slyness ! " 
 
 (Once again this afternoon the Commandant winced.) 
 
 " Oh, but this is too rich ! " Mr. Rogers continued, 
 and the Commandant felt that only the intervening 
 breastwork protected him from a nudge under the ribs. 
 " I must take a rise out of the old lady to-night, when 
 we meet at Fossell's." 
 
 " I — I beg you will do nothing of the sort." The 
 Commandant's voice shook with apprehension. 
 
 Mr. Rogers, mistaking the tremor in the appeal, 
 recoiled suddenly from the extremely gay to the 
 extremely grave. " My good fellow ! Of course, if it's 
 serious ! " 
 
 " ' Serious ! ' " The Commandant stared at him for a 
 moment. "Oh, damn the woman!" he broke out in 
 sudden wrath, and went his way with long strides. 
 The Inspecting Commander looked after him with a 
 broad grin. 
 
 The next battery, the Keg of Butter — so called from 
 a barrel-shaped rock which it overlooked — was built of 
 sods, and had mounted a single eighteen-pounder, on a 
 traversing platform,. Here, on the north-west side of 
 the hill, the fortifications broke off, or were continued 
 only by a low wall along the edge of the cliff ; and here 
 the path, or via inilitaris, turned at a sharp angle and 
 led back towards the Castle, under the walls of which
 
 i6 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 the Commandant passed as a rule to complete his 
 inspection by visiting the three batteries on the northern 
 cliffs. But to-day he broke his custom, and returned to 
 the Garrison garden. 
 
 As he opened the gate, five o'clock sounded from the 
 Garrison bell, and at the first stroke of it he saw 
 Sergeant Archelaus drive his spade into the soil, draw 
 the back of his wrist across his forehead, and walk 
 towards the veronica hedge for his tunic. 
 
 " Archelaus ! " 
 
 " Sir ! " 
 
 " I have been thinking over those trousers," announced 
 the Commandant, picking his way between the briers 
 that threatened to choke the path. 
 
 " And so have I," said Sergeant Archelaus ; " and the 
 upshot is, Do you spell 'em with a ' u ' or a ' w ' ? " 
 
 "Now you mention it, I don't feel able to answer 
 you off-hand ; not without writing it down," said the 
 Commandant. " But what on earth does it matter ? " 
 
 " Nothin' — except that I was thinkin' to write him a 
 letter to thank him." 
 
 " For Heaven's sake ! " the Commandant began, 
 
 but checked himself. " I wouldn't do that, if I were you. 
 In fact, I've been thinking the matter over, and it occurs 
 to me that I have an old pair of dress trousers that 
 might serve your turn ; that is to say, if you could 
 manage to unpick the red stripe off your old ones and 
 get someone to sew it on. They are black, to be sure ; 
 but the difference between black and dark blue is not 
 so very noticeable. And the cut of them inclines to 
 the peg-top, that being the fashionable shape when 
 I bought them — let me see — in 'fifty-nine, I think it 
 
 was," 
 
 I know 'em," said Sergeant Archelaus. "They
 
 SERGEANT ARCHELAUS IS REFITTED 17 
 
 were sound enough two months back, when I sprinkled 
 'em over with camphor against the moth." 
 " I think they will do excellently." 
 
 "They'll do, fast enough," Sergeant Archelaus as- 
 serted; "though it seems like deprivin' you." 
 
 " Not at all, Archelaus ; not in the least. Why, I 
 haven't put on evening dress half a dozen times since 
 I came to the Islands." 
 
 "And that's a long time, to be sure, sir. But one 
 never knows. The Lord Proprietor might take it into 
 his head, one o' these days, to invite you to dinner." 
 
 " Few things are less likely. And even if he did, and 
 the worst came to the worst, I might borrow Mr. Rogers', 
 you know," added the Commandant, and with a smile ; 
 for he stood six feet, and Mr. Rogers a bare five feet 
 five, in their respective socks. 
 
 " He might ask you both together. 'Twould be just 
 of a piece with his damned thoughtlessness." 
 
 " Hush, Archelaus!" his master commanded sternly, 
 and reproached himself afterwards for having felt not 
 altogether ill-pleased. 
 
 "Well, sir, I thank you kindly; and I won't deny 
 'twill be a comfort to go about with the lower half of 
 me looking a bit less like a pen-wiper. But what be I 
 to do with these pesky things ? Return 'em ? " 
 
 "On no account. You might even thank him — by 
 word of mouth — if you have not already done so." 
 
 " I haven't. To tell the truth, the pattern took me 
 so aback at first going off. . . . But when you came 
 in by the gate I was turning it over in my mind 
 that the Garrison oughtn't to be beholden to a 
 civilian." 
 
 " Quite right, Archelaus." 
 
 "And, that bein' so, it might be dignified-Hke to
 
 1 8 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 return gift for gift. Now, the Lord Proprietor's terrible 
 fond of bulbs ; 'tis a new craze with him ; and in spading 
 over the border here I'd a-turned up a dozen or so of 
 those queer - looking Lent - lilies you set such store 
 by." Sergeant Archelaus pointed towards a little heap 
 of daffodil bulbs carelessly strewn on the upturned 
 soil. 
 
 These bulbs had a history. 
 
 Close on thirty years before, a certain Dutch skipper 
 — his name is forgotten — happened to be sailing for 
 Bordeaux with a general cargo, which included some 
 thousands of tulips, and a few almost priceless ones, for 
 a rich purchaser who wished to introduce tulip-culture 
 into the Gironde. The Dutchman's vessel was a flat- 
 bottomed galliot, fitted with lee-boards but liable to 
 fall away from the wind ; and, encountering a strong 
 southerly gale as he attempted to round Ushant, he 
 was blown northward into the fogs and, through the 
 fogs, upon the Islands. 
 
 Against what followed the chances were at least a 
 thousand to one. His vessel, blind as to her where- 
 abouts and helpless among the tide-races, missed rock 
 after rock, blundered her way past every sunken peril 
 — to be sure, she was flat-bottomed, but the soundings 
 varied so from moment to moment that the crew, after 
 running a dozen times to the boats in the certainty of 
 striking, fully believed themselves bewitched — until, in 
 St. Lide's Pool, as they made seven fathoms and hoped 
 for open water, the fog lifted suddenly, and they saw 
 Garrison Hill right above them. 
 
 This befell them a short hour before sunset. The 
 skipper rounded up to the wind, dropped anchor, got 
 out a boat, and groped his way shoreward ; for the fog
 
 SERGEANT ARCHELAUS IS REFITTED 19 
 
 had descended again, even more speedily than it had 
 lifted. 
 
 Groping his way, and still attended by his amazing 
 good luck, the Dutchman, where he had expected rocks, 
 came plump on a pier of hewn masonry. At the pier- 
 head, which loomed high above them, a man struck a 
 light and displayed a lantern ; and, looking up, the 
 crew were aware of many people standing there and 
 chattering in the dusk — chattering in the low soft tone 
 peculiar to the Islanders. The skipper hailed them in 
 Dutch, and again in French, these being the only 
 languages he spoke. The Islanders, helping him ashore, 
 made signs that they could not answer, but took him 
 and his men up the hill to the Garrison, then commanded 
 by a Colonel Bartlemy. 
 
 Colonel Bartlemy could speak French after a fashion, 
 and so could his excellent wife. Between them they 
 entertained the wanderers hospitably for the space of 
 five days, at the end of which the Dutchman went his 
 way before a clear north wind and in charge of an 
 Island pilot. But before departing he presented his 
 hosts — it was all that either he could give or they would 
 permit themselves to accept — with a quantity of remark- 
 ably fine bulbs from his cargo. 
 
 Now, possibly, being a Dutchman, he took it for 
 granted that anyone could recognise these bulbs for 
 what they were. But Mrs. Bartlemy did not : for she 
 had spent the most of her life in various garrisons, which 
 afford few opportunities for gardening. None the less 
 she was, for a soldier's wife, a first-rate housekeeper ; 
 and supposing these bulbs to be onions of peculiar 
 rarity she forthwith issued invitations to the elite of 
 the Islands, and ordered over a leg of Welsh mutton 
 from the mainland. I will not attempt to tell of the
 
 20 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 dinner that ensued : for Miss Gabriel made the story 
 her own, and everyone who heard her relate it after 
 one of Garland Town's petits soiipers — as she frequently 
 did by special request — declared it to be inimitable. 
 Suffice it to say that the tulips were boiled, but not 
 eaten. 
 
 A few bulbs, of smaller size, escaped the pot, and 
 Mrs. Bartlemy, in her mortification, ordered the cook 
 to throw them away, or (in the language of the Islands) 
 to "heave them to cliff." The cook cast them out upon 
 a bed of rubbish in a corner of the Garrison garden, 
 where by and by they were covered with fresh rubbish, 
 under which they sprouted ; and, next spring, lo ! the 
 midden-heap had become a mound of glorious trumpet 
 daffodils ! 
 
 So they were left to blossom, refreshing the eyes of 
 successive Commandants year after year as March 
 came round and the March nor'-westers set their yellow 
 bells waving against the blue sea. Major Vigoureux 
 delighted in them. — Were they not his name-flower? 
 But no one took pains to cultivate them, as no one 
 suspected their great destiny. They bloomed year by 
 year, and waited. Their hour was not yet. 
 
 " By all means, Archelaus, let us do it tactfully," 
 agreed the Commandant. " We must suppress those 
 trousers of his at all costs. Yet I would avoid any- 
 thing in the nature of a rebuff, and if you think the 
 Lord Proprietor would be gratified, you are welcome 
 to take him as many of the bulbs as you please. Only 
 leave me a score or so, for God knows our garden 
 has few ornaments to spare." 
 
 " I'll take 'em over to Iniscaw and thank him by 
 word o' mouth," said Sergeant Archelaus hopefully.
 
 SERGEANT ARCHELAUS IS REFITTED 21 
 
 " It'll save me the trouble of spelling ' trousers,' 
 anyway." 
 
 " It would be easier, as well as more accurate," said 
 the Commandant, pensively regarding the Sergeant's 
 legs, " to call them trews. Not," he went on, " that I 
 have anything to say against the Highland Regiments. 
 I was brigaded once for three months with the Forty- 
 Second, and capital fellows I found them." 
 
 With a mind relieved, the Commandant walked off 
 towards the barracks, pausing on his way to pick up 
 Miss Gabriel's antimacassar-waistcoat, which he had 
 taken the precaution to leave outside the gate. 
 
 Three-quarters of an hour later he emerged, in clean 
 shirt and worn but well-brushed military frock, arrayed 
 for Mr. and Mrs. Fossell's whist-party. As he passed 
 the Garrison gate, Mrs. Treacher, who sometimes acted 
 deputy for her husband, began to ring the six o'clock 
 bell. He halted and waited for her to finish. 
 
 " Mrs. Treacher," he said, " can you tell me the price 
 of flannel ? " 
 
 " Flannel," answered Mrs. Treacher, " is all prices, 
 according to quality." 
 
 " But I am talking of good ordinary flannel, fit to 
 make up into a man's shirt." 
 
 " Then you couldn't say less than one-three-farthings, 
 or one-and-a-ha'penny at the lowest." 
 
 " And how much would be required ? " 
 
 "Good Lord!" said Mrs. Treacher. "As if that 
 didn't all depend on the man ! " 
 
 " I was thinking, Mrs. Treacher, to present your 
 husband with one : that is to say, with the material, if 
 you will not mind making it up." 
 
 Mrs. Treacher curtsied. " And I thank you kindly, 
 sir, for 'tis not before he needs one, which, being under
 
 22 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 average size and the width just a yard, as you may 
 reckon, he oughtn't to take more than three-and-a-half 
 yards at the outside." 
 
 " Three - and - a - half at one - three - farthings — that 
 
 makes Oh, confound these fractions ! " said the 
 
 Commandant. " We'll make it four shillings, and you 
 had best step down to Tregaskis' shop to-morrow and 
 choose the stuff yourself." He counted out the money 
 into Mrs. Treacher's hand, and left her curtseying. As 
 he went, he jingled together the two coins remaining in 
 his breeches pocket. They were a half-crown and a 
 penny-piece — and almost a week stood between him 
 and pay-day.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 THE COMMANDANT FINESSES A KNAVE 
 
 I REMEMBER the Bartlemys perfectly," said Miss 
 Gabriel, addressing the company as they sat 
 around Mr. and Mrs. Fossell's dining-table and trifled 
 with a light collation of cordial waters and ratafia 
 biscuits — prelude to serious whist. " I carry them both 
 in my mind's eye, though I must have been but a tiny 
 child when he succumbed to apoplexy and she left the 
 Islands to reside with a married sister at Scarborough. 
 Very poorly-off he left her. Somehow, our command- 
 ing officers have never contrived to save money; not 
 even in the old days, when the post was worth having." 
 Miss Gabriel said it pointedly but lightly, with a 
 glance at the Commandant. The company stared at 
 their plates and glasses. It was well-known that (as 
 Mr. Rogers put it) Miss Gabriel " had her knife into " 
 the patient man, and there were tongues that attributed 
 her spitefulness to disappointment. Fifteen years ago, 
 when Major Narcisse Vigoureux — no longer in his first 
 youth, but still a man of handsome presence — had first 
 arrived in the Islands to take over his command. Miss 
 Gabriel was a not uncomely woman of thirty. Partis 
 in the Islands are few, as you may suppose. He was a 
 bachelor, she a spinster; she had money, and he position. 
 What wonder, then, if the Islanders expected them to 
 make a match of it ? 
 
 23
 
 24 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 For some reason, the match had never come off, and 
 although she might convince herself that the simplest 
 reason— incompatibility— was the true one. Miss Gabriel 
 could hardly have been unaware that the women looked 
 upon her as one who had missed her chance, and even 
 blamed her a little — as women always will in such cases. 
 Perhaps this made her defiant. 
 
 She was handling the Commandant truculently 
 to-night. 
 
 " Of course," she continued, " even in those days the 
 post — don't they say the same in England of a Deanery? 
 — was looked upon as finishing a man's career. I don't 
 know, for my part, the principle upon which the Horse 
 Guards— it used to be the Horse Guards— sent Colonel 
 Bartlemy down to us," 
 
 "By selection, ma'am," said the Commandant, still 
 patiently, as she paused ; " by selection among a number 
 of applicants." 
 
 " I didn't want to be told that," snapped Miss Gabriel. 
 " What I meant was, the Commander-in-Chief probably 
 knew something of the man — had informed himself of 
 something in his record— before sending him down to 
 this exile." 
 
 " And a jolly good exile, too ! " put in Mr. Rogers. 
 "It used to be," said Miss Gabriel. "This Colonel 
 Bartlemy, for instance, was a coward. I've heard it told 
 of him that once, during his command, a sort of mutiny 
 broke out in the barracks. It happened at a time when 
 the newspapers were full of nonsense about France 
 invading us by a sudden descent; and the noise, 
 reaching him in the quarters where he lodged with his 
 wife and one general maid-servant, put him in a terrible 
 fright. He had fenced off these quarters of his for 
 privacy, and because Mrs. Bartlemy thought it would be
 
 THE COMMANDANT FINESSES A KNAVE 25 
 
 a good deal better for the maidservant, and they com- 
 municated with the barracks by a staircase with a door 
 of which he kept the key. On the first alarm he ran to 
 this door and called through the keyhole for his orderly ; 
 but the orderly, who himself was taking part in the 
 disturbance, did not hear. So the Colonel called up his 
 wife and the servant, and joined them at the head of the 
 stairs after he had slipped on a few regimentals, with 
 belt and sword. By this time the noise below was 
 deafening. The Colonel, putting a brave face on it, 
 managed to get the key into the lock and turn it. Then, 
 as he flung the door open, he turned with a bow to his 
 wife and said very politely, in French — for they were in 
 the habit of talking French before the girl — ^Passes 
 devant, madame ! ' " 
 
 " How did it end ? " asked Mr. Rogers, after a 
 guffaw. 
 
 "Oh, it turned out to be just a barrack brawl. The 
 soldiers were always the worst-behaved lot in the Islands, 
 and perpetually grumbling; though in those days," added 
 Miss Gabriel, " I always understood that they were fed 
 and clothed sufficiently." 
 
 The Commandant whitened. Mrs. Fosscll, a nervous 
 body in a cap with lilac ribbon, rose in some little 
 fluster, and opined that it was almost time to cut for 
 partners. 
 
 A few minutes later the Commandant found himself 
 seated opposite Mr. Fossell, with Miss Gabriel and Mr. 
 Rogers for opponents — Miss Gabriel on his left. He 
 prepared to enjoy himself, for whist meant silence, and 
 he could have chosen no better partner than Mr. Fossell, 
 who played a sound game with a perfectly inscrutable 
 face. 
 
 " Dear me," said Miss Gabriel, in the act of picking
 
 26 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 up her cards, " it seems as if this had happened a great 
 many times before ! What do you say, Mr. Fossell, to 
 staking half a crown on the rubber, just to enliven the 
 game? You don't object on principle, I know, to playing 
 for money." 
 
 " No, indeed, ma'am," answered Mr. Fossell. " I am 
 content if the others are willing: not that for me the 
 pleasure of playing against you needs any such — er — 
 adventitious stimulus." 
 
 Miss Gabriel appealed to Mr. Rogers. 
 
 Mr. Rogers thought it would be great fun. " Come 
 along, Vigoureux," he almost shouted, "you can't refuse 
 a lady's challenge ! " 
 
 What could the poor Commandant do? Almost 
 before he knew he had nodded, though with a set face, 
 and by the nod committed himself. He felt his two 
 coins burning in his breeches pocket against his thigh, 
 as if they warned him. 
 
 But, after all, Fossell was an excellent player. With 
 the smallest luck, he and Fossell ought to be more than 
 a match for a pair of whom, if one (Miss Gabriel) was 
 wily, the other played a game not usually distinguishable 
 from bumble-puppy. 
 
 They won the first game easily. 
 
 They had almost won the second when a devastating 
 seven trumps in Mr. Rogers' hand (which he played 
 atrociously) saw their opponents almost level — the score 
 eight-seven. In the next hand. Miss Gabriel — for this 
 was old-fashioned long whist — held all four honours, and 
 took the game. 
 
 The Commandant looked at Mr. Fossell. But a 
 financier is not disturbed by the risk of half a crown. 
 
 Only half a crown ! But for the Commandant a week 
 between this lialf a crown and another !
 
 THE COMMANDANT FINESSES A KNAVE ij 
 
 He wondered what Fossell would say — Fossell, sitting 
 there, so imperturbable, with his shiny bald head — if he 
 knew. 
 
 "Game and\" announced Mr. Rogers. 
 
 By this time the players at the second table, aware of 
 the half a crown at stake, were listening in a state of 
 suppressed excitement — suppressed, because the Vicar, 
 being deaf, had not overheard Miss Gabriel's challenge, 
 and the others feared that he might disapprove of playing 
 for money. 
 
 The Vicar, who played against Mr. and Mrs. Pope, 
 with Mrs. Fossell for partner, had a habit of soliloquising 
 over his hand on any subject that occurred to him. The 
 rest of the table deferred to this habit, out of respect or 
 because by experience they knew it to be incurable, since 
 only by conscious effort could he hear any voice but his 
 own. 
 
 By such an effort, holding his hand to his ear, he 
 had listened to Miss Gabriel's anecdote about Colonel 
 Bartlemy ; smiling the while because he had heard it 
 many times before and knew it to be a good one ; 
 innocently unaware that it covered any caustic sub- 
 intention. It had started him on a train of reminiscence 
 which he pursued at the card-table (good man) for 
 twenty-five minutes, recalling himself to the cards with 
 a faint shock of surprise whenever it became his turn 
 to play, as one who would protest — " What, again ? 
 And so soon ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed," the Vicar's voice struck in across the 
 strained silence, " there is an old story that Oliver 
 Cromwell left behind him, in garrison here, a company 
 of the Bedfordshire Regiment, and that in time they 
 were completely forgotten. (Let me see. Spades are 
 trumps, I believe. . . . 'Clubs?' Your pardon, Mrs.
 
 28 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Fossell, but I remembered it was a black suit.) Yes, 
 and seeing no prospect of recall they married in time 
 with our Island women, and that" — here the Vicar 
 gathered up a trick which belonged to his opponents — 
 " is, by some, alleged to be the reason why the Islanders 
 use a purer English than is spoken on the mainland. 
 Ah, quite so ; yes, I played the ten — then it was your 
 ace, Mrs. Pope ? I congratulate you, ma'am." 
 
 The Commandant, overhearing, could not forbear 
 a glance at Miss Gabriel, It conveyed no resentment, 
 scarcely even a reproach ; it turned rather, as by dumb 
 instinct, upon the author of the wound, and asked 
 perplexedly : " What have I done to you, that you 
 treat me thus ? " I have no doubt that Miss Gabriel 
 caught the glance. She did not answer it ; but her 
 grey eyes glinted beneath their lids as she bent them 
 upon the cards Mr. Fossell was dealing in his usual 
 deliberate way. 
 
 " The story may be apocryphal," pursued the Vicar, 
 addressing deaf ears around the other table; "though, 
 for my part, I incline to think there may be a sub- 
 stratum " 
 
 Mr. Fossell turned up the queen of spades. The 
 Commandant held ace, ten, and two small trumps, 
 with a strong hand in diamonds, which Mr. Rogers, 
 by a blundering lead, enabled him to establish early. 
 Actual honours were " easy " ; but by exhausting trumps 
 at the first opportunity, he scored three by tricks. The 
 next hand gave their opponents three points — two by 
 honours, and the trick. Three all. 
 
 The Vicar was heard to observe that, on the whole, 
 intermarriage among the Islanders had not produced 
 the disastrous effects usually predicted of it ; and that 
 therefore an infusion of fresh blood, at some date more
 
 THE COMMANDANT FINESSES A KNAVE 29 
 
 less remote, might reasonably be conjectured, even though 
 incapable of proof. 
 
 The Vicar, as he said this, looked across at Mrs. 
 Fossell interrogatively. He was really expecting her 
 to lead trumps, but she mistook him to be asking her 
 assent to his theory. To keep the ball rolling, she 
 opined that what had happened once need not necessarily 
 happen again, especially in these days when locomotion 
 was making such strides. She hazarded this in the 
 lowest key; but it happened in just that momentary 
 hush upon which the faintest remark falls resonantly. 
 The Commandant heard it across the room as he waited 
 for Mr. Rogers to cut the cards; and the Vicar, by a 
 freak of hearing, picked it up at once. 
 
 " My dear lady," he demanded, " are you talking of 
 progenitiveness ! " 
 
 "N-no," stammered Mrs. Fossell, in confusion, 
 " Nothing of the sort. I was referring to the Garrison 
 here being left out of mind — like the regiment you 
 spoke of." 
 
 Miss Gabriel tapped the table impatiently. " Mr. 
 Rogers," she said, " I think we had better attend to 
 the game. Major Vigoureux is waiting for you to 
 cut." She said it with her eyes upon the Commandant's 
 hand, which was trembling. He wondered, as he dealt, 
 if she had observed that it was trembling. 
 
 The score mounted to nine-eight. The Commandant 
 lifted a hand to his brow as Mr. Fossell, whose turn it 
 was, took up the cards and began to deal methodically, 
 without a trace of discomposure. 
 
 " Half a crown ! and if he lost, one penny left to last 
 him to next pay-day ! " A terrible thought seized him. 
 " And what if, when he presented himself at Mr. Fossell's 
 bank on pay-day, the money were not forthcoming?"
 
 30 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Nonsense ! He was unhinged. . . . The money had 
 always arrived punctually . . . but the whole world 
 seemed to be in conspiracy against him to-night, and 
 his luck along with it. 
 
 Mr. Rogers, who had a trick of sorting out his suits 
 between his fingers, hesitated for a few moments, put 
 his cards together, and with an air of fierce determina- 
 tion, led a small heart. 
 
 Again the Commandant's right hand went up to his 
 brow. The room was very close and still. But the 
 Vicar remained unaware of the general excitement, 
 and across the silence the Vicar was heard to say 
 confidentially — 
 
 " Between you and me there was a time when I 
 hoped our friend the Commandant might make a 
 match of it," 
 
 The poor Commandant ! . . . With his gaze fixed on 
 the cards, he felt that every ear was listening, every 
 eye turned upon him. He must do something desperate 
 to break the horrible spell, to turn the luck. . . . He 
 held ace, king, knave of hearts, and knew well enough 
 that, in sound whist, he ought to play the king. But 
 why had Mr. Rogers led hearts ? Mr. Rogers did not 
 often lead even from a strong suit unless it contained at 
 least one honour. 
 
 The Commandant risked it and finessed his knave. 
 Miss Gabriel had been waiting, watching him intently. 
 Her mouth shut almost with a snap of triumph as she 
 put down the queen. 
 
 It was, as it happened, the one heart in her hand. 
 She closed her triumph, a few rounds later, by trumping 
 the Commandant's ace and king. Mr. Fossell looked 
 at his partner, in sorrow rather than in anger. Mr. Rogers 
 laughed uproariously as he counted up the tricks.
 
 THE COMMANDANT FINESSES A KNAVE 31 
 
 " Double or quits, I suppose ? " he suggested. 
 
 But the Commandant rose. "Your pardon, Miss 
 Gabriel," he said, laying his half-crown on the table, 
 "if I play no more for money to-night. Indeed, I was 
 going to ask Mrs. Fossell to forgive me if I spoil one 
 of her quartettes by withdrawing. To tell the truth, 
 I am not myself — a slight dizziness " 
 
 " A glass of hot brandy-and-water ? " suggested Mr. 
 Fossell. " Nay, then, a thimbleful — I insist ! " 
 
 The Commandant made his excuses as politely as 
 he could, and found himself in the street. The night 
 was pitch-dark and the road full of sea-fog — a fog so 
 thick that it completely shut off the rays of the many 
 lighthouses twinkling around the Islands, and obscured 
 the few street-lamps that illuminated Garland Town. 
 A slight breeze blew up from the west and damped his 
 brow ; for his dizziness had been something more than 
 a pretence, and he walked with his hat in his hand. 
 
 On such a night a stranger might well have lost his 
 way; but the Commandant steered for Garrison Hill 
 without a mistake, and up the hill towards the barracks. 
 Garland Town is early abed. He passed no one in the 
 streets. But in St. Hugh's, as he went by the closed 
 door of a cottage, half-way up the ascent, he recalled 
 the night, years ago, of his first arrival in the Island. 
 He had come a week before the Garrison expected him, 
 and there had been no one to meet him on the quay 
 when he arrived in the dusk of an October evening 
 Darkness had descended on the Island before he started 
 from the quay to climb to his new home ; and here — ^just 
 here, at this doorway — he had paused to ask his way. 
 
 The door had stood open then, with a panel of warm 
 firelight lying across the roadway, and as he halted and
 
 32 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 peered into the room — it was a kitchen, and the Hght 
 from the open hearth glinted on rows of china plates 
 ranged along the dresser — he saw two girls beside the 
 fire; the one seated and reading from a book in her lap, 
 the other on the hearth-mat half reclined against her 
 sister's knee, over which she had flung an arm to prop 
 her chin as she listened. . . . He remembered the sand 
 strewn on the slate floor, the fresh sea-smell in this room 
 so confidingly open to the night — the scene so intimate, 
 so homely, that the traveller standing in the doorway 
 with the salt-spray on his cloak could scarcely believe 
 in the tide-races across which he had been voyaging for 
 hours. He stood, the hum of them in his ears, a doubtful 
 intruder; and while he stood, the girl in the chair had 
 risen and bade him good-evening in purest English. 
 
 " You have come by the boat ? You will be from 
 the mainland ? " she said, and he wondered a little, 
 not being used as yet to hear his country spoken of as 
 the mainland. " And I am going to England to- 
 morrow," she added. " The boat which brought you 
 will take me over on its return journey." 
 
 "You know England well, I expect?" He found 
 himself saying this for lack of anything better. 
 
 " She has never been outside the Islands," said her 
 sister, who also had risen, "x-^nd it is the same with 
 
 me. But to-morrow she is going " The girl paused 
 
 here, not (it seemed) in pain, but wistfully, as in a kind 
 of solemn awe at the prospect. " We left the door open 
 for father. He has a fancy to see the light across the 
 road as he comes up the hill. But he is late to-night at 
 the fishing." 
 
 The Commandant, glancing around the room, divined 
 — he could not tell why — that these girls were mother- 
 less. His eyes fell on the open book which the elder
 
 THE COMMANDANT FINESSES A KNAVE 33 
 
 sister had laid on the chair as she rose. The firelight 
 enabled him to read its page-heading, printed in thick, 
 blunt type — King Lear ! These girls, the one of them 
 about to visit unknown England, were reading Shake- 
 speare together. 
 
 "Urbem quam dicunt Romam" — he felt a wild in- 
 clination to question them, to ask what they expected 
 to learn of England from Shakespeare, and from that 
 play of all others. But being a shy man, then as ever, 
 he forbore, and contented himself with asking the way 
 to the barracks. 
 
 They went with him to the door to direct him ; and 
 so, wishing them good-night, he had gone up the hill. 
 That was all. 
 
 He had never seen the elder sister again; did not 
 know to this day what business had taken her away to 
 the mainland, not to return. The younger had married 
 a farmer, and was now the mother of a growing family 
 in Saaron Island, which lies next to Brefar, which faces 
 Iniscaw. Her farmstead there stood a short way 
 above the landing quay; and once or twice, catching 
 sight of her in her doorway, and lifting his hat as he went 
 by (for the Commandant was ever polite), he had found 
 it in his mind to stop and inquire after her sister. 
 
 He had never translated this resolve into action. The 
 Commandant — as everyone knew on the Islands — was 
 " desperate shy," or " that shy you'd never believe." But 
 the scene had bitten itself upon his memory, and he 
 recalled it almost as often as he passed the door. He 
 recalled it to-night, as he stumbled by it in the fog and 
 uphill to his cheerless lodgings. 
 
 What a blind thing was life ! blind even as this fog — 
 and his home in it these cheerless barracks ; to which 
 
 3
 
 34 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 nevertheless he must cling, in spite of his honour, an 
 old man, good for nothing, afraid to be found out ! He 
 groped his way to the front door, opened it with his 
 latchkey, lit the candle which Sergeant Archelaus had 
 considerately placed at the foot of the stairs, and 
 climbing to his bedroom, flung himself on his knees 
 by the bed. 
 
 Now the architect of the barracks had designed them 
 upon a singular plan, of which the peculiar inconvenience 
 was that almost every room led to some other ; which 
 saved corridor space, but was fatal to privacy. 
 
 Beyond the Commandant's bedroom, which opened 
 upon the first-floor landing of the main staircase, lay a 
 room in which he kept his fishing clothes, and in which 
 Sergeant Archelaus sometimes lit a fire to dry them 
 by. 
 
 It was a small room, well shielded from the draughts 
 which raged through the building in winter ; and here 
 Sergeant Archelaus had lit a fire to-night and sat before 
 it, sewing an artilleryman's stripe upon the Com- 
 mandant's cast dress trousers. 
 
 Hearing a noise in the outer room, and not expecting 
 his master's return for at least a couple of hours, he 
 hurried out in some perturbation, with the trousers flung 
 across his arm — to find the Commandant kneeling at 
 his devotions. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir." 
 
 " It's of no consequence," said the Commandant, 
 looking up (but he was desperately confused). " I — 
 I always say my prayers, you know." 
 
 "What? Before undressing?" said Sergeant 
 Archelaus.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 THE GUN IN THE GREAT FOG 
 
 POLITELY though he had contrived his departure, 
 the Commandant left Mrs. Fossell's whist-party 
 to something like dismay. A passing indisposition — 
 no excuse could be more reasonable ; still, nothing of 
 the kind had ever interrupted these gatherings within 
 Mrs. Fossell's recollection, and she could not help 
 taking a serious view of it. 
 
 " A passing indisposition " was Mr. Fossell's phrase, 
 and he kept repeating it, with an occasional, " Nonsense, 
 my dear," in answer to his wife's gloomy forebodings. 
 " But I shall send round, the first thing in the morning, 
 to inquire," she insisted. 
 
 " Do so, my dear." 
 
 " It can't be serious, ma'am," Mr. Rogers assured her 
 jollily. " You heard him decline my arm when I offered 
 to see him home." 
 
 " In my opinion," said Miss Gabriel, " the man is 
 breaking up." She touched her forehead lightly with 
 the tip of her forefinger. 
 
 "Breaking up?" echoed her host and Mrs. Pope, 
 incredulous. " My dear Martha ! " protested Mrs. 
 Fossell. 
 
 " Breaking up," Miss Gabriel repeated, with a very 
 positive nod of her head. " He has not been the same 
 man since the Lord Proprietor took over the presidency 
 
 35
 
 36 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 of the Court and he refused upon pique to be elected 
 an ordinary member. Say what you like, a man cannot 
 be virtual Governor of the Islands one day, and the 
 next a mere nobody, without its preying upon him." 
 
 " He made light of it at the time," observed Mr. 
 Fossell, " although I ventured to remonstrate with 
 him." 
 
 "And I," said Mr. Pope. " In the friendliest possible 
 way, you understand. I pointed out that the Lord 
 Proprietor was, after all, the Lord Proprietor, and, as 
 such, did not understand being thwarted. Very 
 naturally, as you will all admit." 
 
 " It's human nature, when you come to think of it," 
 put in the Steward's wife (she preferred the title of 
 Steward to that of agent, and was gradually accustoming 
 society to the sound). 
 
 " If that's the ground you're going on," spoke up Mr. 
 Rogers, who with all his faults was nothing of a snob, 
 " it's human nature for Vigoureux to feel sore. As for the 
 magistracy, he's not the man to value it one pin. It's 
 the neglect ; and to meet the old fellow mooning around 
 his batteries as I did this very afternoon — I tell you it 
 makes a man sorry." 
 
 If this speech did Mr. Rogers credit he cancelled it 
 presently by his atrocious behaviour at cards. The 
 symmetry of the party being broken, Miss Gabriel 
 announced that she had enjoyed enough whist for the 
 evening, and that nothing in the world would give her 
 greater pleasure than half an hour's quiet talk with the 
 Vicar — that was, if Mrs. Fossell and he would not mind 
 cutting out and surrendering their seats to Mr. Fossell 
 and Mr. Rogers. In saying this she outrageously 
 flattered the Vicar, with whom it was impossible to 
 hold conversation in any tone below that of shouting.
 
 THE GUN IN THE GREAT FOG 37 
 
 She meant that she was prepared to listen. She knew 
 also that Mrs. Fossell would be only too grateful for 
 release, to look after the preparations for supper and 
 scold the parlour-maid outside. So the Vicar and Mrs. 
 Fossell cut out, and Mr. Fossell and Mr. Rogers replaced 
 them as partners against Mr. and Mrs. Pope. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Pope always played together. No one 
 knew why, but it had come to be an understood thing. 
 Of " calls " and " echoes " the play of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Pope was innocent ; but when Mrs. Pope, being second 
 hand, hesitated whether to trump her opponent's card 
 or pass it, Mr. Pope had an unconscious habit of saying, 
 " Now, dearest 1 " when he desired her to trump ; and 
 another unconscious habit, when Mrs. Pope had the 
 lead and he wanted trumps, of murmuring, " Your turn, 
 darling ! " These two habits Mr. Rogers had noted ; 
 and being in merry pin to-night over winning his half- 
 crown, at a moment when Mr. Fossell, having the lead, 
 appeared to hesitate (but the hesitation was only a part 
 of Mr. Fossell's deliberate play), he leaned over and 
 playfully suggested, " Your turn, darling ! " 
 
 Mr. Fossell stared in the act of putting down a trump. 
 For a moment he appeared to think that Mr. Rogers 
 had gone mad; then, in spite of himself, the lines of 
 his mouth relaxed. 
 
 " I do not think," said Mr. Pope heavily — and the lines 
 of Mr. Fossell's mouth at once grew rigid again — " I do 
 not think you two ought to signal for trumps in that 
 fashion." 
 
 His partner looked up in innocent surprise. In the 
 slow pause Mr. Rogers was growing purple in the face, 
 when again the Vicar's voice broke across the silence. 
 *' The Lord Proprietor's power in former days may well 
 have warranted the Government in stationing a military
 
 38 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 officer here to keep some check on him. For instance, 
 he shared all ordinary wrecks with the Lord High 
 Admiral, but a wreck became his sole property by law, 
 if none of the crew remained alive ; a dangerous reserva- 
 tion, ma'am, in times when justice travelled slowly, and 
 much might happen in the Islands and never a word of 
 it reach London," 
 
 Miss Gabriel put up both hands — they were encased 
 in mittens, and the mittens decorated with steel beads — 
 as if to close her ears. 
 
 " We must be thankful, indeed," she began, and 
 paused in dismay as the floor of Mrs. Fossell's drawing- 
 room trembled under her, and at the same moment the 
 window sashes rattled violently throughout the house. 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " 
 
 " What was that ? " 
 
 The players dropped their cards. All listened. 
 
 " Upon my word," suggested the Vicar, who had 
 heard nothing, but felt the concussion, " if it weren't 
 positively known to be empty one would say the powder 
 magazine at the Garrison " 
 
 " Oh, Richard ! Richard ! " — here Mrs. Fossell came 
 running in from the dining-room with a dish of trifle in 
 her hands — " is it an earthquake ? " 
 
 " I — I rather think not, my dear ! " 
 
 " At any rate," she turned and appealed to her husband, 
 " I wish you would come to Selina, for she has dropped 
 the cold shape all over the floor and is having hysterics 
 in the better of the two arm-chairs ! " 
 . " Earthquake ? Fiddlesticks, ma'am ! " said Mr. 
 Rogers, buttoning his pea-jacket and turning up its 
 collar. "What you heard was a gun. There is a 
 vessel in distress somewhere, and we shall have my 
 men here in a moment with news of her."
 
 THE GUN IN THE GREAT FOG 39 
 
 " But there was no sound," objected Mrs. Pope. 
 
 " Fog, ma'am — fog ; sound don't travel in a fog, and 
 ships oughtn't to. There has been a nasty bank of it to 
 the south'ard ever since morning, and you may bet 
 that's the mischief." 
 
 He went into the hall for his lantern, brought it back, 
 lit it and carried it out to the front door. 
 
 " Whe — ew ! " he whistled, as he opened the door 
 and stood, with lantern lifted high, staring into the 
 night. 
 
 The guests behind him wondered ; for all was quiet 
 outside — too quiet to ears accustomed to the wind 
 which for ever sings across the Islands, even on summer 
 days mingling its whispers and soft murmurings with 
 the hum of the distant tide-races. But while they 
 wondered, Mr. Rogers' figure grew vague and amor- 
 phous in a cloud of fog that drifted past him into 
 the passage. The light in his lantern had turned to 
 a weak flame of yellow, and seemed on the point of 
 dying out. 
 
 " Ahoy, there ! Is that Mr. Rogers ? " called a thin 
 voice out of the night. 
 
 " Ahoy ! Mr. Rogers it is ! What's wrong ? " 
 
 " Thank God I've found you ! " The voice sounded 
 suddenly quite close at hand, and a man blundered 
 against the doorstep. 
 
 "Eh?" — the others saw Mr. Rogers give back in 
 astonishment — *' The Lord Proprietor ? " 
 
 " Safe and sound, too, by Heaven's mercy," said the 
 Lord Proprietor, plucking off his peaked cap and 
 shaking the water from it. He carried a lantern, and 
 his jacket and loose trousers of yellow oilskin shone 
 with the wet like a suit of mail. " All the way from 
 Inniscaw I've come, in the gig. Peter Hicks and old
 
 40 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Cai Jenkin pulled me, and the Lord knows where we 
 made land or what has become of them. Man, there's 
 a vessel ashore — a liner, they say ! Didn't you hear 
 the gun a minute since ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; but where is she ? " 
 
 "That's more than I know. Somewhere among the 
 Off-Islands ; on the Terrier, maybe, or the Hellmeadows. 
 All I can tell you is that old Cai brought the news to 
 the Priory, almost three hours ago : his son-in-law, young 
 Ashbran, had seen her in a lift of the fog — a powerful 
 steamship with two funnels and a broad white band 
 upon each. She hadn't struck when he saw her ; but 
 she was nosing into an infernal mess of rocks, and the 
 light closing down fast. I didn't see Ashbran himself ; 
 Cai believed he had put across to warn your men. But 
 as the old man couldn't swear to it I told him to 
 get out the gig and fetch Peter Hicks, and so we 
 started." 
 
 " I'm wondering why those men of mine haven't 
 brought me warning. Ashbran can't have reached 
 them." 
 
 " He started late, belike, and lost his way in the fog ; 
 or it's even possible — though you won't believe it — that 
 your men started to find you and have lost themselves. 
 My good sir, you never knew such a fog ! " 
 
 " Yet I left word with the chief boatman," mused 
 Mr. Rogers. " He knows perfectly well where I 
 am." 
 
 " Does he ? " said the Lord Proprietor. " Then it's 
 more than I do. What house is this ? " 
 
 " Why, Fossell's. Good Lord ! didn't you know ? " 
 
 " My dear Sir Caesar " Mr. Fossell stepped 
 
 forward solicitously. 
 
 " Eh ? So it is ! . . . Good-evening, Mr. Fossell !
 
 THE GUN IN THE GREAT FOG 41 
 
 That picture of the Waterloo Banquet seemed familiar, 
 somehow." The Lord Proprietor nodded towards a 
 framed engraving on the wall. " Yes, to be sure — and 
 Landseer's 'Twa Dogs.' But this is worse than the 
 Arabian Nights ! We must have missed the harbour 
 by a mile ! " 
 
 "You came ashore at Carn Point, most probably," 
 Mr. Fossell suggested. "The tide sets that way, and 
 from Carn Point it is but a step." 
 
 " A step, is it ? Man, I've been wandering in blank 
 darkness for a full hour. Twice I've found myself on 
 the edge of a cliff. I've followed walls only to be led 
 into open fields. I've struck across open fields, only 
 to tumble against troughs, midden-heaps, pig-styes. I 
 walked straight up against this house, supposing myself 
 somewhere near the batteries on Garrison Hill ; though 
 how I had managed to miss the town was more than I 
 could explain." 
 
 "The wonder is you ever fetched across from 
 Iniscaw." 
 
 " It's my belief we had never done it, but for the tide. 
 The night was black as your hat when we started, but 
 fairly clear. We kept sight of the lamp on the pier- 
 head until half-way across. Then the fog came down ; 
 and then ! " 
 
 " Well, it's good hard causeway between this and St. 
 Hugh's," said Mr. Rogers. " We can't miss it. You'll 
 step along with me to the Guard-house, Sir Caesar? As 
 soon as the weather lifts one of my men shall put you 
 back to Iniscaw." 
 
 " On the contrary, my good sir, I go with you." 
 
 Mr. Rogers looked at him, as he buttoned up his 
 pea-jacket. 
 
 "We won't argue it here," he said. "You don't
 
 42 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 guess what it means, though, searching for a wreck 
 among the Off-Islands on a night like this. Not to 
 mention that there's a sea running . . ." 
 
 And yet, apart from the fog, there was nothing in the 
 weather to suggest shipwreck and horrors. For a fort- 
 night the Islands had lain steeped in the sunshine of 
 Indian summer; a fortnight of still starry nights and 
 days almost without a cloud. As a rule, such weather 
 breaks up in a gale, of which the glass gives timely 
 warning. But the mercury in Mr. Fossell's barometer 
 indicated no depression, or but the merest trifle. The 
 drenched night-air was warm : to Miss Gabriel, inhaling 
 it in the passage by the drawing-room door, it seemed 
 to be laden with the scents of summer, and Miss 
 Gabriel had not lived all her life in Garland Town 
 without learning the subtle aromas of the wind, to 
 distinguish those that were harmless or beneficent from 
 those that warned, those that threatened, those that 
 were morose, savage, malignant, those that piped a note 
 of madness and meant a hurricane. Nor did the fog 
 in itself appear to her very formidable. To be sure, she 
 had never known a thicker one ; but the Lord Proprietor 
 (saving his presence) had probably exaggerated its 
 terrors. He was — let this excuse be made for him — a 
 landsman, comparatively new to the Islands. 
 
 Probably Mr. Fossell and Mr. Pope and the Vicar 
 took the same view. The news of the wreck had excited 
 them, and they were offering to accompany Sir Caesar 
 and Mr. Rogers to St. Hugh's Town, on the chance of 
 more information. 
 
 ** And we had best go with them, my dear," suggested 
 Miss Gabriel to Mrs. Pope. (Their houses stood side by 
 side and contiguous, on a gentle rise at the foot of 
 Garrison Hill.)
 
 THE GUN IN THE GREAT FOG 43 
 
 Mrs. Fossell begged them to wait and keep her 
 company until the gentlemen returned. " It is impos- 
 sible," she urged as an inducement, " that Selina can go 
 on making this noise for ever." 
 
 But Miss Gabriel had taken her decision, and from a 
 decision Miss Gabriel was not easily turned. 
 
 " My dear," said she, reaching for her cloak, " the 
 gentlemen may not return until goodness knows when, 
 and I have a prejudice against late hours." 
 
 They started in a body. The fog, to be sure, was a 
 deal worse than ever Miss Gabriel could have credited. 
 Still, the gentlemen using their lanterns and tapping to 
 right and left with their sticks, they found the hard 
 causeway, and blundered along it towards St. Hugh's, 
 the ladies with their shawls drawn over their heads and 
 their heads held down against the drifting wall of 
 moisture. 
 
 They had made their way thus for about four hundred 
 yards — that is to say, about a third of the length of the 
 causeway, when suddenly the fog ahead of them became 
 luminous, and they perceived torches waving. 
 
 " Mr. Rogers ! Is that Mr. Rogers ? " called a voice. 
 
 " Ay, ay, men 1 " Mr. Rogers hailed in answer, 
 recognising his coastguard. " I am coming — fast as 
 I can," he added, having at that moment run into a 
 wall. 
 
 " A wreck, sir ! " 
 
 " Ay ! where is it ? " 
 
 " Somewhere beyond St. Anne's, sir, as we reckon : 
 out towards the Monk, There was a gun fired, and 
 Dick, here, thinks as he saw the lighthouse send up a 
 signal ; but lights there's none, that the rest of us can 
 make out " 
 
 "Hark!"
 
 44 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Again the fog shook with the concussion of a gun. 
 
 " Uue west, as I make it out," said Mr. Rogers. " Are 
 the boats ready ? " 
 
 " Ay, sir ; the jolly-boat manned and off, and the gig 
 launched and lying by the slip." 
 
 " Then run, men 1 " 
 
 " Why, they've left us ! " gasped Mrs. Pope, as the 
 glare of the torches melted into the fog, 
 
 "It doesn't matter," Miss Gabriel assured her bravely. 
 " VVe have only to keep straight on."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE SS. MILO 
 
 MAJOR VIGOUREUX fell asleep almost as soon 
 as his head touched the pillow. He owed this 
 habit originally to a clear conscience, and although (as 
 the reader knows) his conscience was no longer clear, 
 the habit had not forsaken him. 
 
 He dreamed that he was presenting himself at Mr. 
 Fossell's bank, and giving Mr. Fossell across the counter 
 a number of plausible reasons why his pay should be 
 handed to him as usual. He knew all the while that 
 his arguments were sophistical and radically unsound ; 
 but he trusted that he was making them cogent. Mr. 
 Fossell preserved an impassive, inscrutable face ; but 
 every time the Commandant ventured a new argument 
 Mr. Fossell's high, bald head twinkled and suddenly 
 changed colour like a chameleon. It was green, it was 
 violet, it was bathed in a soft roseate glow like an 
 Alpine peak at sunset ; and still while he argued the 
 Commandant was forced to dodge his body about lest 
 Mr. Fossell should catch sight of a mirror fixed in the 
 opposite wall, and perceive how strangely his scalp was 
 behaving. Finally, Mr. Fossell turned as if convinced, 
 walked away to an inner room, and came back bearing 
 a bag of money, round and distended — so tightly 
 distended, indeed, that the Commandant called out to 
 him to be careful of the contents. But the cry came a 
 
 45
 
 46 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 moment too late ; for the bag, as it touched the counter, 
 exploded with a dull report, collapsed, and flattened 
 itself out into a playing-card — the queen of hearts ! 
 
 At this point the Commandant excusably found 
 himself awake, and sat up blinking at Sergeant 
 Archelaus, who stood in a haze of fog by his bedside 
 with a lighted candle. 
 
 " You heard it ? " asked Sergeant Archelaus. 
 
 " Heard it ? " echoed the Commandant, trembling, 
 not yet in full possession of his senses. " Of course, I 
 
 heard it. The bank " Here he checked himself 
 
 and rubbed his eyes. 
 
 " You're dreaming ; that's what's the matter with you," 
 said Sergeant Archelaus, using the familiarity of an old 
 servant. " There's a ship on the rocks." 
 
 " A ship ? Where ? " 
 
 The sergeant, candle in hand, stepped to the 
 casement. 
 
 " Lord knows where she be by this time, if St. Anne's 
 pilots ha'n't found her. The gun sounded from west'ard, 
 down by the Monk." 
 
 " Fog, is it?" asked the Commandant, staring about 
 him and remembering. 
 
 " Fog it is," answered Sergeant Archelaus ; and added, 
 " Poor souls ! " 
 
 "Thick?" By this time the Commandant had flung 
 back the bed-clothes and was thrusting his feet into his 
 worn slippers. 
 
 " I never seen a thicker in my born days." 
 
 " If we had a gun " 
 
 " Ah — if! " agreed Sergeant Archelaus curtly, and 
 turning, let his voice rise in a sudden passion. " Why 
 did I wake ye? Set it down to habit. I've known the 
 time when the sound of a gun would have fetched forty
 
 THE SS. MILO 47 
 
 men out of barracks to save life or to take it ; and a gun 
 to answer within thirty seconds and alarm all the Islands 
 But we ! What's the use of us ? " 
 
 " Get on your coat ! " said the Commandant sharply, 
 putting on his trousers, " Get on your coat and run to 
 the bell — that is, if Treacher " 
 
 But at this moment the muffled note of a bell began 
 to sound through the fog, vindicating Treacher's 
 vigilance. Treacher, however, was not the ringer. The 
 Commandant had scarcely slipped on his fatigue jacket, 
 and, while buttoning it hastily, was searching in the 
 wardrobe for his overcoat, when Treacher's voice sounded 
 up the staircase, demanding to know if the Garrison was 
 awake. 
 
 " Awake ? " called back Archelaus. " Of course we 
 be, and coming before you can sound th' alarm. Reach 
 down the bugle, man, — from the rack behind th' door, 
 there, — and sound it." 
 
 Treacher sounded. He was out of breath, and the 
 two high notes quavered broken-windedly ; but the 
 Commandant's chest swelled with something of old 
 pride. The alarm would reach the town, and the town 
 would know that the Garrison had not been caught 
 napping. He snatched up the candle from the candle- 
 stick in Sergeant Archelaus' hand and rammed it into 
 the socket of a horn lantern he had unhooked from the 
 cupboard. 
 
 " Come along, men ! Keep sounding, Treacher — keep 
 sounding ! " 
 
 Even so he had heard men calling — a many years ago 
 — in the trenches under the Redan. Treacher sounded 
 obediently, and down the hill all three staggered — past 
 the Garrison gate, with a hail to Mrs. Treacher to pull 
 for all she was worth — and down the hill among the
 
 48 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 ruts and loose stones, all so familiar that relying on 
 tread alone (as in fact they did) they could not miss 
 their way. Below them, along the quay, and on the 
 causeway at the head of it — voices were calling and 
 lights moving ; but the fog reduced the shouts to a twitter, 
 as of birds, and the torches and lantern to mere glow- 
 worm sparks. The coastguards were embarking, and 
 the Lord Proprietor, just arriv^ed upon the scene, was 
 running about — as Sergeant Archelaus put it afterwards, 
 " like a paper man in a cyclone " — calling out the names 
 of volunteers for the lifeboat. 
 
 The fog had found its way into Treacher's bugle 
 before our three heroes reached the quay ; but he 
 continued to blow his best ; and there, at the end of the 
 causeway, Sir Caesar ran into them — ran straight into the 
 Commandant, almost knocking out his breath — calling, 
 as he ran, for someone to take bow oar in the lifeboat. 
 
 " Will I do ? " asked Sergeant Archelaus coolly, as 
 became a soldier. 
 
 " You ? " The Lord Proprietor thrust his torch close. 
 " Oh, get out of my way — this is work for men ! And 
 you? " catching sight of the Commandant — " How much 
 do you think you are helping us with this tom-fool 
 noise ? " 
 
 The Commandant drew himself erect, but before he 
 could answer the Lord Proprietor had gone his way, 
 waving his torch and still shouting for someone to man 
 the bow thwart. 
 
 There was a slow pause. 
 
 " Can you get to our boat, Archelaus ? " asked the 
 Commandant. The two sergeants heard his voice drag 
 on the question. They could not see his face. 
 
 " She's afloat, sir," answered Sergeant Archelaus. 
 
 " Find the frape then, and pull her in."
 
 THE SS. MILO 49 
 
 " Is it our boat you're meaning, sir ? " asked Archelaus, 
 hesitating. 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " There's a certain amount of sea running, sir, out 
 beyond the pier." 
 
 " I observed as much this evening." 
 
 "Very good, sir." Something in the Commandant's 
 voice forbade further argument. 
 
 They were afloat almost as soon as the coastguard, 
 and a full five minutes before the lifeboat. Sergeant 
 Archelaus pulled stroke, and Sergeant Treacher bow. 
 The Commandant steered, his lantern and pocket- 
 compass beside him in the stern-sheets. 
 
 The boat — she had once been a yacht's cutter — 
 measured sixteen feet over all. She was fitted with a 
 small centre-plate, and carried a lug sail (but this they 
 left behind ; it was in store, and would have been worse 
 than useless). They pulled out into a fog so thick that 
 only by intervals could the Commandant catch sight of 
 Sergeant Treacher's face and Sergeant Treacher's eye- 
 brows and sandy moustache glistering with beads of 
 mist. 
 
 They had left the pier but a short two hundred 
 strokes behind them when the little tug belonging to 
 the Islands came panting out of harbour with the 
 lifeboat in tow, and passed on, blowing her whistle, to 
 overtake and pick up the coastguard galley. So 
 unexpectedly her lights sprang upon them, and so close 
 astern, that Treacher, with a sharp cry of warning, had 
 barely time to jerk the boat's head round and avoid 
 being cut down. Then, dropping his paddle, he made 
 a grab at the painter and flung it, calling out to the 
 lifeboat's crew to catch and make fast. But either he 
 was a moment too late in flinging, or the lifeboatmen, 
 4
 
 50 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 themselves bawling instructions to the tug's crew, were 
 preoccupied and did not hear. The rope struck against 
 something — the lifeboat's gunwale doubtless — but no 
 one caught it, and next moment the tug had slipped 
 away into darkness and into a silence which swallowed 
 up the shouts and the throb of her engines as though 
 she had dropped into a pit. 
 
 " Darn your skin, Sam Treacher ! " swore Sergeant 
 Archelaus. " There goes a couple of hours' pulling you 
 might have saved us ! " 
 
 "Then why couldn't you have given warning?' 
 retorted Treacher. " Pretty pair of eyes you keep in 
 that old head of yours ! " 
 
 " Be quiet, you two ! " the Commandant ordered. 
 " They'd have caught the painter if they wanted 
 us. . . ." 
 
 He fell silent, bending his head to study the compass 
 in the lantern's ray. " Not wanted " — " not wanted " — 
 the paddles took up the burden and beat it into a sort 
 of tune to the creak of the thole-pins. As a young 
 ofificer he had started with high notions of duty; nor, 
 looking back on the wasted years, could he tax himself 
 that he had ever declined its call. Only the call, which 
 in youth had always carried a promise with it, definitely 
 clear and shining, of enterprise and reward, of adventure, 
 achievement, fame, had sunk by degrees to a dull 
 repetition calling him from sleep to perform the spiritless 
 daily round. He did not sigh that the definite vision 
 had faded ; it happened so, maybe, to most men, though 
 not to all. To most men, it might be, their fate played 
 the crimp ; they followed the marsh-fires out into just 
 such a blind waste as this through which he and his 
 men were groping — darkness above and below ; darkness 
 before, behind, to right, to left ; darkness of birth, of
 
 THE SS. MILO 51 
 
 death, and only the palpable fog between. He did not 
 sigh for this. What irked him was the thought that 
 while he had followed the mill-round of duty, strength 
 had been ebbing away — had left him useless. 
 
 Yes, there lay the sting. Twenty years ago how like 
 a schoolboy he would have dashed into this fog, careless 
 of consequence, eager only to find where men needed 
 his help ! He might have found, or missed ; but twenty 
 years ago men would have hailed his will to help. Now 
 he was negligible. In an ordinary way these neighbours 
 of his might disguise their knowledge, through politeness 
 or pity ; but at a crisis like this the truth came out. 
 The Lord Proprietor had treated him as a pantaloon, 
 and these lifeboatmen — so little they valued him — could 
 not be at the pains of catching a rope. 
 
 He steered, as nearly as he could calculate, west-by- 
 south, allowing at a guess for the set of the tide. The 
 wall of fog, which let pass no true sound, itself seemed 
 full of voices — hissing of spent waves, sucking of water 
 under weed-covered ledges, little puffs and moanings of 
 the wind. He had reckoned that he was bending 
 around shore to the south of the roadstead, heading 
 gradually for St. Tide's Sound and giving the rocks on 
 his port hand a wide berth ; when of a sudden Archelaus 
 called out, and he spied a grey line of breaking water at 
 the base of the fog, quite close at hand. It scared them 
 so that they headed off almost at right angles. This 
 adventure not only proved his reckoning to be wrong, 
 but complicated it hopelessly. 
 
 They were in open water again, still making — or at 
 any rate the boat so pointed — west-by-south. The short 
 scare had shaken him out of his brooding thoughts. He 
 saw now, minute after minute, but the sea beyond the 
 edge of the boat's gunwale, heaving up and sliding
 
 52 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 astern as it caught the shine of the lantern. The lantern 
 shone also against the knees of Archelaus, and lit up 
 the check-board pattern of the eleemosynary trousers. 
 It was a provocative pattern, but the Commandant 
 heeded it not, . . . 
 
 He looked up from Sergeant Archelaus' knees to 
 Sergeant Archelaus' face, and past it to the face of 
 Sergeant Treacher, now a little more distinct. The two 
 men had been pulling for an hour, and the Commandant 
 saw that they were tired — tired and very old. He 
 recognised it at first with a touch of anger. He felt an 
 instant's impulse to curse and bid them row harder. 
 But on the instant came gentler understanding, and 
 restrained him. 
 
 "Archelaus," he said, "you are the older; take the 
 tiller here and give me the oar for a spell." 
 
 Archelaus was not unwilling. Besides, was it not his 
 commanding officer who gave the order? He re- 
 linquished his paddle with a grunt of exhaustion, and 
 the Commandant stood up to take it, laying both hands 
 on it while Archelaus stumbled past to the stern-sheets. 
 . . . And at that moment a miracle befell. 
 
 The fog must have been thinning. The Commandant, 
 standing with both hands on the paddle and his face to 
 the bows, saw or felt it part suddenly, and through the 
 parting lights shone and voices sounded, with the heavy 
 throb of a vessel's screw. 
 
 Clank ! clank ! and it was on them, almost before 
 Sergeant ArcheJaus could let out a cry — the stem, the 
 grey-painted bows of a vast steamship, ghostly, towering 
 up into night. A bell rang. High on the bridge — but 
 the bridge soared into heaven — a pilot's voice called out 
 in the Island tongue. As the great bows glided by, 
 missing the boat by a few yards, the three men stared
 
 THE SS. MILO 53 
 
 aloft until they had almost cricked their necks ; and 
 aloft there, as Archelaus raised his lantern, the Com- 
 mandant read the vessel's name — Milo — glimmering in 
 tall gilt letters. 
 
 Faces looked down from her rail, faces from the 
 shadow of the hurricane deck ; a line of faces, and all 
 looking down upon the little Island tug that had fallen 
 alongside and drifted close under the liner's flank, a 
 short way abaft her red port-light. A murmur of talk 
 went with the faces, as it were a stream rippling by, and 
 mingled with the splash of water pouring overside from 
 the pumps. It sounded cheerfully, and from the voices 
 on board the tug and in the lifeboat and galley towing 
 astern our Commandant gathered that the danger was 
 over. Again Sergeant Treacher hailed and flung a 
 rope ; this time the lifeboat's crew caught it and made 
 fast. 
 
 " Reub Hicks is aboard," said a voice, naming one of 
 the St. Anne's pilots. " He picked her up not twenty 
 furlongs from Helldeeps after she had missed the Little 
 Meadows by the skin of her teeth." 
 
 " How in the name of good Providence she got near 
 enough to miss it, being where she was, is the marvel to 
 me," said another. 
 
 " She did, anyway," said the coxswain ; " for Reub 
 himself called down the news to me in so many 
 words." 
 
 The Commandant gazed up at the grey shadow 
 reaching aloft into darkness. He knew those outer 
 reefs of which the men spoke. A touch of them would 
 have spilt the plates of this tall fabric like a house of 
 cards. He and Archelaus had witnessed one such 
 wreck, eight years ago ; had waited in broad daylight, 
 helpless, resting on their oars, unable to approach within
 
 54 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 a cable's length of the rocks, upon which in ten minutes 
 a steel-built five-master, of 1200 tons, had melted to 
 nothing before their eyes — "the rivets," as Archelaus 
 put it, " flying out of her like shirt buttons." But that 
 had happened on one of the outermost reefs, beyond 
 the Off-Islands, far down by the Monk Light. How 
 the Milo, no matter from what quarter approaching, 
 had threaded her way past the Hellmeadows into the 
 Helldeeps was to him a mystery of mysteries. She 
 was groping it yet, her engines working dead slow ; but 
 the fog during the past hour had sensibly lightened, 
 and Reub Hicks held open water between him and the 
 Roads, though he still kept the lead going. At the 
 entrance of the Roads he sent the tug forward to help 
 the steerage, and so brought her in and rounded her 
 up as accurately as though she had been a little 
 schooner of 200 tons or thereabouts. 
 
 As the great anchor dropped amid the deafening 
 rattle of its chain in the hawse-pipe the crews astern cast 
 off and drew their boats alongside, eager to swarm 
 aboard and hear news of the miracle. From the coast- 
 guard galley Mr. Rogers shouted up to the captain to 
 lower his ladder. He and his chief boatman mounted 
 first, with a little man named Pengelly, a Customs 
 official, who happened to make one of the lifeboat's crew ; 
 for the Milo had come from foreign, and thus a show 
 was made of complying with the Queen's regulations. 
 But the whole crowd trooped up close at their heels, 
 and with the crowd clambered Sergeant Archelaus and 
 Sergeant Treacher. 
 
 The Commandant had given them permission. He 
 would remain below, he said, and look after the boat, 
 awaiting their report. 
 
 The crowd passed up and dispersed itself about the
 
 THE SS. MILO 55 
 
 deck, congratulating all comers, and excitedly plying 
 them with questions. The Islanders are a childlike 
 race, and from his post at the foot of the deserted ac- 
 commodation-ladder the Commandant could hear them 
 laughing, exclaiming, chattering with the passengers in 
 high-pitched voices. 
 
 He stood with his boat-hook, holding on by the 
 grating of the ladder's lowest step, and stared at the 
 grey wall-sides of the liner. Yes, she was solid — this 
 ship ; and yet he could not believe but that she belonged 
 to a dream ; so mysteriously, against all chances, was 
 she here, out of the deep and the night. 
 
 Someone had lashed a lantern at the head of the 
 ladder. Lifting his eyes to it in the foggy darkness, 
 the Commandant saw a solitary figure standing there in 
 the gangway and looking down on him — a woman. 
 
 She lifted a hand as if to enjoin silence, and came 
 swiftly down a step or two in the shadow of the vessel's 
 side. 
 
 " You are Major Vigoureux ? " she asked in a quick 
 whisper, leaning forward over him. 
 
 "At — at your service, madam," he stammered, taken 
 fairly aback. 
 
 " Ah ! I am glad of that ! " She ran down the 
 remaining steps and set her foot lightly on the boat's 
 gunwale. " You will row me ashore ? " 
 
 " If you wish it, madam." He was more puzzled than 
 ever. He saw that she wore a dark cloak of furs 
 and was bareheaded. She spoke in a sort of musical 
 whisper. Her face he could not see. " In a minute or 
 two my men will be returning." 
 
 " We will not wait for your men," she said quietly, 
 seating herself in the stern - sheets. " They can easily 
 be put ashore in one of the other boats."
 
 56 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 From under her fur cloak she reached out an arm — 
 a bare arm with two jewelled bracelets — and took the 
 tiller. "I can steer you to the quay," she said, and 
 leaning forward in the light of Sergeant Archelaus' 
 lantern, she lifted her eyes to the Commandant. 
 
 The Commandant pushed off, shipped the paddles 
 into the thole pins, and began to row, as in a dream. 
 
 i
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 HOW VASHTI CAME TO THE ISLANDS 
 
 "'I /"OU do not remember me, Major Vigoureux?" 
 
 jL The Commandant looked at her, across the 
 lantern's ray. Something in her voice, vibrating like 
 the rich, full note of a bell, touched his memory . . . but 
 only to elude it. 
 
 The face that challenged him was not girlish : the 
 face, rather, of a beautiful woman of thirty ; its shape a 
 short oval, with a slight squareness at the point of the 
 jaw to balance the broad forehead over which her hair 
 (damp now, but rippled with a natural wave, defying 
 the fog) lay parted in two heavy bands — the brow of a 
 goddess. Her eyes, too, would have become a goddess, 
 though just now they condescended to be merry. 
 
 Tall she was, for certain, and commanding. Her 
 cloak hid the lines of her body, whether they were thin 
 or ample; but, where the collar opened, her throat 
 showed like a pillar, carrying her chin upon a truly 
 noble poise. It was inconceivable (the Commandant 
 said to himself) that he had met this woman before, and 
 forgotten her. 
 
 He came back to her eyes. They challenged him 
 fearlessly. He could not have described their colour; 
 but he saw amusement lurking deep in their glooms, 
 while she waited. 
 
 " I am sorry. It is unpardonable in me, of course " 
 
 57
 
 58 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " And I, on the contrary, am glad," she interrupted, 
 with a laugh that reminded him of the liquid chuckle 
 in a thrush's song, or of water swirling down a deep 
 pool ; " for it tells me I have grown out of recognition, 
 and that is just what I wanted." 
 
 This puzzled him, and he frowned a little. 
 
 " You know the Islands ? " he asked, " This is not 
 your first visit?" 
 
 " You shall judge if in this fog I steer you straight for 
 St. Lide's Quay ; and I take you to witness — look over 
 your shoulder — there is no lamp on the quay-head to 
 guide me, or at least none visible." She laughed again, 
 but on the instant grew serious. "Yes," she added, 
 " I can find my way among the Islands, I thank God." 
 And this puzzled him yet more. 
 
 " You know the Islands ? You are glad to return to 
 them ? " 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " Yet you do not wish to be recognised ? " 
 
 She nodded again. " I came, you see, sooner than I 
 intended. The Milo was clean out of her course." 
 
 " That goes without saying," said he gravely. 
 
 " She was bound for Southampton. So, you see, this 
 little misadventure has shortened my journey by two or 
 three days." She paused. " No ; I ought not to speak 
 of it flippantly. I shall be very thankful in my prayers 
 to-night ... all those women and children. . . . But 
 when a danger is over " 
 
 "Yes, I understand that. Something of the sort 
 happened to me once — but that was a long time ago, 
 in the Crimea. . . . It's not flippancy ; it's a kind of 
 revulsion, and natural enough. But what puzzles me is 
 your being in such a hurry to be put ashore. I thought 
 at first you might have taken a nervous horror of the
 
 HOW VASHTI CAME TO THE ISLANDS 59 
 
 ship. People do sometimes, after a shock or a narrow 
 escape ; but you don't look as if your nerves were 
 unstrung." 
 
 " Is my hand trembling ? " she asked, lifting it and 
 laying it again on the tiller, where it rested firm as 
 a rock. Only the jewels quivered in her rings and 
 bracelets, and their beauty, arresting the Commandant's 
 eaze, held him silent for some moments. 
 
 " To be frank with you," she went on, " I left the ship 
 in a hurry, because I was afraid of being thanked. I 
 don't like publicity — much ; and just now it would have 
 spoiled everything." This explanation enlightened the 
 Commandant not at all. " Besides," she added, with a 
 practical air, " I left a note with my maid, to give to 
 the captain; so he won't imagine that I've tumbled over- 
 board ; and she can send my boxes ashore to-morrow, if 
 you will be kind enough to fetch them before the Milo 
 weighs." 
 
 " But, meanwhile " he hazarded. 
 
 "Oh, meanwhile I must manage somehow for the 
 night. I slipped a few things into my handbag here." 
 She drew her fur cloak a little aside, and displayed it — 
 a small satchel hanging from her waist by a silver chain. 
 The Commandant had a glimpse at the same moment 
 of a skirt of rose-coloured silk, brocaded in a pattern of 
 silver. 
 
 " And when we land," he asked, " where am I to take 
 you ? " 
 
 " I am in your hands." 
 
 He stared at her, dismayed. " But you have 
 friends?" 
 
 " None who would remember me ; not a soul, at least, 
 in St. Lide's." 
 
 "There is the Plume of Feathers Inn, to be sure "
 
 60 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " If you recommend it," she said demurely, as he 
 hesitated. 
 
 He almost lost his temper. "Recommend it? Of 
 course 1 don't." 
 
 " Well, from what I remember of the Plume of 
 Feathers — unless it has altered " 
 
 " Wouldn't it be wiser to turn back ? " he suggested 
 desperately, staring into the fog, in which the lights of 
 the Milo had long since disappeared. 
 
 " What ? When we have this moment opened the 
 quay-light ? There ! . . . didn't I promise you that I 
 knew my way among the Islands?" 
 
 In the basin of the harbour the fog lay thicker than 
 in the Roads, and they had scarcely made sure that this 
 was indeed the quay -light before their boat grated 
 against the landing - steps of the quay itself. The 
 Commandant, after he had shipped his oars and 
 checked the way on her, pressing both hands against 
 the dripping wall, put up one of them and passed the 
 back of it slowly across his forehead. He was consider- 
 ing; but, while he considered, his companion stepped 
 lightly ashore. " Forgive me," he pleaded, recollecting 
 himself " At least, I should have offered you my hand." 
 
 " Thank you, I did not need it." 
 
 " But listen, please," he protested, scrambling out 
 upon the steps, painter in hand, and groping for a 
 ringbolt. " You cannot possibly stay the night at the 
 Plume of Feathers ! " 
 
 He heard her laugh as he stooped to make fast the 
 rope. 
 
 " Commandant, have you ever travelled across 
 Wyoming — in winter, in a waggon ? Very well, then ; 
 I have." 
 
 * Surely not in the clothes you are wearing ? *" The
 
 HOW VASHTI CAME TO THE ISLANDS 6r 
 
 Commandant, as anyone in the Council of Twelve 
 could tell you, was no debater ; yet sometimes he had 
 been known to triumph even in debate, by sheer 
 simplicity. " The only course that I can see," he 
 continued, " is to seek some private house, and throw 
 ourselves upon the — er " 
 
 " Front door ? " she suggested mischievously. 
 
 " — hospitality — upon the hospitality of the inmates. 
 To them, of course, I can explain the situation." 
 
 " Can you ? " 
 
 The Commandant stood for a moment peering at 
 her, and rubbing the back of his head — a trick of his 
 in perplexity. " Upon my word, now you come to 
 mention it," he confessed, " I don't know that I can." 
 
 " Whom shall we try first ? Miss Gabriel ? " (" Now, 
 how in the world," wondered the Commandant, "does 
 she know anything of Miss Gabriel ? ") " Very well ; we 
 go together to Alma Cottage — she still lives at Alma 
 Cottage? — and knock. The hour is two in the morn- 
 ing, or thereabouts. Miss Gabriel, overcoming her 
 first fear of robbery or murder, will parley with us 
 from her bedroom window. To her you introduce me, 
 by the light of your lantern ; a strange female in an 
 evening frock ; a female grossly overladen with jewels 
 (that, I think, would be Miss Gabriel's way of putting 
 it), but without a portmanteau." 
 
 "We might try the Popes next door," suggested 
 the Commandant, flinching. " Mr. Pope is a man of 
 the world." 
 
 "Is he?" she asked, after a pause, in which he felt 
 that she struggled with some inward mirth. " But we 
 cannot so describe Mrs. Pope, can we? Also we 
 cannot knock up Mr. and Mrs. Pope without disturb- 
 ing Miss Gabriel next door."
 
 62 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " Nor, for that matter, can we knock up Miss Gabriel 
 without disturbing Mr. and Mrs. Pope." 
 
 " Quite so ; we may reckon that all three will be 
 listening. Therefore, when Mr. Pope or Miss Gabriel 
 (as the case may be) begins by demanding my name — 
 which, by an oversight, you have forgotten to ask " 
 
 " Pardon me," said the Commandant simply, " I 
 did not forget, I waited, supposing that if you wished 
 me to know it, you would tell me." 
 
 " Ah ! " she drew close to him, with a happy exclama- 
 tion. " Then I was not mistaken ! You are the man 
 I have counted to find. . . . And you are a brave 
 man, too. But we will not push bravery too far and 
 disturb Miss Gabriel." 
 
 " If you can suggest a better plan " 
 
 "A far better plan. I suggest that you offer me a 
 room to-night at the Garrison." 
 
 *' My dear madam ! " The Commandant gasped. 
 
 " It will be far better in every way," she went on 
 composedly ; " that is, if you are willing. To begin with, 
 you have rooms and to spare. Next, there will be no 
 bother in introducing me, except to Mrs. Treacher." 
 
 "Ah, to be sure, there is Mrs. Treacher!" the 
 Commandant murmured. " But, madam, all the rooms 
 in the Castle are unfurnished, ruinous, and have been 
 ruinous for fifty years. The Treachers occupy the 
 only two in which it were possible to swing a cat." 
 
 " Then we must borrow Mrs. Treacher and take her 
 along to the barracks for chaperon. You may leave 
 it to me to persuade her." 
 
 Without waiting for his answer she ran lightly up 
 the steps, the heels of her rose-coloured satin shoes 
 twinkling in the light of the Commandant's lantern as 
 he blundered after her.
 
 HOW VASHTI CAME TO THE ISLANDS 63 
 
 The pavement of the quay had not been laid for 
 satin shoes. Much traffic had worn the surface into 
 depressions, and these depressions were fast collecting 
 water from the drenched air. But although the fog 
 lay almost as thick here as at the foot of the steps, 
 she picked her way among these pit-falls, avoiding 
 them as though by instinct. Beyond the quay came 
 a cobbled causeway ; and beyond the causeway a 
 narrow street wound up towards the Garrison gate. 
 Past rains, pouring down the hill, had worn a deep rut 
 along this street, ploughing it here and there to the 
 native rock, and zig-zagging from centre to side of the 
 roadway and back again, obedient to the trend of the 
 slope. But over the causeway, and up the channelled 
 street, she found her footing with the same confidence, 
 steering far more cleverly than the Commandant, who 
 followed still as in a dream, amazed, oppressed with 
 forebodings. It was all very well for her to talk 
 lightly of persuading Mrs. Treacher. If she could, 
 why then she must be possessed of a secret as yet 
 unrevealed to Mrs. Treacher's husband after thirty- 
 odd years of married life. The Commandant, too, 
 knew something of Mrs. Treacher ... an obstinate 
 woman, not to say pig-headed. 
 
 Was she a witch — this stranger in silk and jewels 
 who walked in darkness so confidently up the tortuous, 
 unpaved street? — this apparition who, coming out of 
 the seas and the dumb fog, talked of the Islands and 
 the Islanders as though she had known them all her 
 life? 
 
 As if to prove she was a witch, she halted before 
 the very cottage which once already to-night had given 
 pause to his steps and to his thoughts. The fog had 
 been thinning little by little as they mounted the hill,
 
 64 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 and at a few paces distance — for she, with her springy 
 gait, had outstripped him by many yards — he recognised 
 the closed door, daubed over with that same staring 
 bhie paint which your true Islander uses for choice 
 upon his boat. 
 
 "You remember this door?" she asked, pointing to it 
 as he overtook her. 
 
 " Of course I remember it," he answered ; " passing it, 
 as I do, half a dozen times a day." 
 
 "Yes," she said, almost as if speaking to herself; but 
 her voice, for the first time since their meeting, seemed 
 to be touched with a faint — a very faint — shade of 
 dejection. " Naturally you would not remember it for 
 any other reason." 
 
 He was silent. 
 
 " Yet," she went on, " you really ought to remember 
 that door, Major Vigoureux, if only for old sake's sake ; 
 for it was, I believe, the first you entered when you 
 came to the Islands. That was in the year " 
 
 " Never mind the year," interrupted the Commandant 
 hastily. " You seem — Heaven can tell how — to know 
 everything about me, and so I give up and confess. I 
 remember it well. I almost never pass the door without 
 remembering it." 
 
 " Ah ! " she cried, putting her jewelled hands together, 
 and the Commandant took it for an exclamation of 
 triumph at her cleverness. " But other tenants have 
 the house ; the man who was master of it is dead." 
 
 " You know everything, it seems to me. Yes ; he was 
 a widower, and late that evening at the fishing. It was 
 an evening when he should not have been late ; for the 
 door stood open for him, and his daughters — he had two 
 daughters — sat expecting him. It was the open door 
 that drew me to ask my way." Here he paused.
 
 HOW VASHTI CAME TO THE ISLANDS 65 
 
 " Go on, please." 
 
 " One of the girls was to leave the Islands next 
 morning for the mainland, which she had never seen. 
 She told me this. And she sat reading aloud to her 
 sister, there by the fire." 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " That is all. Yes, that is all — except that the book 
 
 was Shakespeare, and the girl " He paused again, 
 
 staring at her between sudden enlightenment and stark 
 incredulity. "You — you don't mean to tell me that 
 you were that girl I " 
 
 She nodded ; and as, forgetting politeness, he held 
 the lantern close to her face, he saw two large tears 
 brim up, tremble, and hang for a second before they 
 fell. 
 
 " You ? " he murmured. 
 
 She nodded again. " I am Vashti : Vazzy Cara, they 
 called me, Philip Cara's daughter. I daresay, though, 
 you never heard my name ? No, there is no reason why 
 you should. And my sister, Ruth " 
 
 " She is married, and lives on Saaron Island, But 
 you know this, of course? You who seem to know 
 everything about us." 
 
 " My sister writes me all the news. ... So now," 
 she added, smiling, " it is all explained, and there is no 
 mystery about me after all. Are you so very much 
 disappointed ? " 
 
 But the Commandant continued to stare. No 
 mystery? That the fisherman's daughter with the 
 Island lilt in her voice — well he recalled it ! — should 
 have turned into this apparition of furs and jewels ? . . . 
 And yet the metamorphosis lay not in the furs and 
 jewels, but in her careless air of command, of reliance 
 upon her power, beauty, charm — whatever her woman's 
 5
 
 66 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 secret might be ; an air of one accustomed to move in 
 courts, maybe, or to control great audiences, or to live 
 habitually with lofty thoughts ; an air of one, above all, 
 sure of herself. The poor Commandant had lived the 
 better part of his life in exile, but by instinct of breed- 
 ing he recognised this air at once. Vashti, however, 
 seemed to mistake his astonishment, for she frowned. 
 
 " Well ? " she asked, a trifle impatiently. 
 
 " Your sister never told us," he stammered. " At 
 least — that is to say " 
 
 " Do you suppose she was ashamed of me ? " 
 
 " Ashamed ? " he echoed, for indeed no such thought 
 had occurred to him. 
 
 " Ah, to be sure ! " she said slowly, but less in indigna- 
 tion (it seemed) than in disappointment with him. 
 " Naturally that would be the explanation to occur to 
 you, living so long in such a place." 
 
 She turned on her heel, half contemptuously, and 
 resumed her way, walking with a yet quicker step than 
 before. The Commandant, aware that he had offended, 
 but not in the least understanding how, toiled after her 
 up the steep incline to the Garrison gate. 
 
 They reached the door of the barracks. To his 
 surprise it was standing open, and from behind the 
 ragged blind of his sitting-room — to the left of the 
 entrance hall — a light shone feebly out upon the fog. 
 He could not remember that he had lit the lamp there, 
 nor that he had left the front door open. 
 
 Vashti paused upon the doorstep and turned to 
 him — 
 
 " My good sir," she said curtly, " run and fetch Mrs. 
 Treacher to me, for goodness' sake." 
 
 He hesitated, on the point of stepping past her to 
 open the door of the lighted room. Her manner for-
 
 HOW VASHTI CAME TO THE ISLANDS 6^ 
 
 bade him, and he stood still, there by the doorstep, 
 gazing after her a moment as she disappeared into the 
 dark hall. Then, as he heard the door-latch rattle 
 gently, he turned to hurry in search of Mrs. Treacher. 
 
 He had taken but a dozen steps, however, when he 
 heard her light footfall behind him. She, too, had 
 turned and was following him almost at a run. 
 
 " Why didn't you tell me ? " she gasped. 
 
 He swung up his lantern. Her eyes were wide with 
 a kind of horror — and yet she seemed to be laughing, 
 or ready to laugh. 
 
 " Tell you ? " he echoed. 
 
 " Oh, but it was unkind ! " 
 
 " But — but, excuse me — what on earth " 
 
 " Why, that you were entertaining ladies ! " 
 
 " Ladies ! " 
 
 She nodded, still round-eyed, reproachful. "Two of 
 them — sitting on your sofa ! And, I think — I rather 
 think — one of them is Miss Gabriel ! "
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 TRIBULATIONS OF MRS. POPE AND MISS 
 
 GABRIEL 
 
 "T Tl TE have only to keep straight on," said Miss 
 
 VV Gabriel. 
 
 " Ye — es," said Mrs. Pope, less hardily. " I really 
 think the gentlemen might have waited for us." 
 
 " For aught they know," said Miss Gabriel, " it's a 
 matter of life and death. And we cannot be more than 
 two hundred yards from our own gates." 
 
 " In my opinion," persisted Mrs. Pope, who was apt 
 to turn peevish when frightened, " a man's first duty is 
 to look after his own." 
 
 " Is it ? " snapped Miss Gabriel, herself no coward. 
 " Well, you must argue that out with Mr. Pope, if you 
 haven't made up your minds about it by this time. For 
 my part, I never wanted a man to look after me, I 
 thank the Lord." 
 
 " It would have been more gallant, and that you 
 must allow." Mrs. Pope stuck to her point (which is 
 a capital thing to do in a fog), but only to let it go 
 abruptly a moment later. *' Besides," she added, " my 
 new cap is no better than a pulp already. I can feel 
 it. Sopping isn't the word." 
 
 " Fiddlestick 1 " said Miss Gabriel. " You and your 
 cap ! " She was not frightened, only a little nervous. 
 " If you ask me, it's better you were thinking of those 
 
 68
 
 TRIBULATIONS OF MRS. POPE 6g 
 
 poor souls out on the rocks yonder. Little enough 
 they'll be thinking, just now, of such things as caps ! " 
 
 "Of course," hazarded Mrs. Pope, after they had 
 groped their way forward for twenty paces or so, " if 
 you are quite certain where we are " 
 
 "We are among the Islands," said Miss Gabriel 
 tartly, feeling the roadway with the edge of her shoe, 
 for her soul had just encountered turf; " and this is one. 
 My dear Charlotte, if you could refrain from bumping 
 into me at the precise moment when I am standing on 
 one leg " 
 
 'fc> 
 
 " How can I help it, in this darkness ? " whispered 
 Mrs. Pope. " Besides " — with sudden spirit — " if you 
 want to stand on one leg, I shouldn't have thought 
 this the time, or the place." 
 
 " T'cht ! " said Miss Gabriel, striding forward with 
 gathering confidence ; but at the seventh stride or so 
 a sharp exclamation escaped her, as she stood groping 
 with both hands into the night. 
 
 " What's the matter ? " 
 
 " It's a wall, I think. ... I had almost run against 
 it. , . . Yes, this must be the wall of Battershall's 
 garden." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 " Certain. We have been bearing away to the right ; 
 people always do in a fog." 
 
 " Then if this really is Battershall's garden — and I 
 only hope and trust you are not mistaken — we can 
 bear away from it to the left, on purpose, and then as 
 likely as not we shall find ourselves going straight," 
 reasoned Mrs. Pope lucidly. 
 
 " My dear Charlotte " — Miss Gabriel was within an 
 ace of calling her a fool — "if this is Battershall's 
 garden "
 
 70 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " But a moment ago you were sure of it ! " 
 
 "And so I am. Very well then; since this is 
 Battershall's garden, we have only to hold on by the 
 wall and go forward, and that will take us " 
 
 But here the wall ended, and the sentence with it. 
 
 " Ai-ee ! " 
 
 " Are you hurt ? I said," asserted Mrs. Pope desper- 
 ately, and with conviction, "that one of us would break 
 a limb before we finished." 
 
 " It seems to be — yes, it certainly is — a pump ! " Miss 
 Gabriel's voice had begun to shake by this time, but 
 she steadied it. " For the moment I — I half thought it 
 might be a man." 
 
 " I would to Heaven it were ! " said Mrs. Pope fervently. 
 
 " My dear Charlotte ! " 
 
 " My dear Martha, I mean it — and, what's more, I 
 wouldn't care who he was. A pump? What earthly 
 use is a pump ? It must be Mumford's then, if it is a 
 pump." 
 
 " It can't be." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " For the simple reason that Mumford's is on the other 
 side of the road." 
 
 "Then we are on the other side of the road, as I 
 have been maintaining all along." 
 
 " Would you mind walking round it ? . . . Yes, you 
 are right. It is Mumford's pump, for I have just bruised 
 my wrist against the handle. Can you find the trough ? " 
 
 " The astonishing thing to me," announced Mrs. Pope, 
 groping her way with trepidation, " is that nobody 
 shows a light. I don't like to call people unfeeling; 
 but really, with folks in distress out at sea, and the guns 
 firing, I wouldn't have believed such callousness." 
 
 They made the circuit of Mumford's pump, and
 
 TRIBULATIONS OF MRS. POPE 71 
 
 assured themselves — for what the knowledge was worth 
 — that it really was a pump, and Mumford's. But this 
 cost them dear, for at the end of the circuit, or rather 
 of a circuit and a half, they had lost all sense of their 
 compass bearings. 
 
 "And after all," Mrs. Pope began afresh, her mind 
 working sympathetically in a circle, " I don't understand 
 what Mumford's pump is doing on the wrong side of 
 the road." 
 
 "Don't be a ninny, Charlotte! Of course it's not on 
 the wrong side of the road." 
 
 "But you said it was." (Pause.) "You really did 
 say so, Martha, for I remember it distinctly." (Another 
 pause, and a sigh.) " For my part, I never pretended 
 to have what they call the bump of locality." 
 
 The poor lady prattled on, more and more querul- 
 ously, and to the increasing exasperation of Miss Gabriel, 
 who on the whole believed that they were making for 
 home, yet could not shake off a haunting suspicion that 
 they were moving in a direction precisely opposite. 
 Moreover, the behaviour of Mumford's pump troubled 
 her more than she cared to confess, even to herself It 
 stood on the right of the road as you went towards St. 
 Hugh's ; but they had encountered it upon the left. 
 Therefore, either they had been walking off the road, 
 though in the right direction, or — terrible thought ! — 
 somewhere or somehow they had turned right-about- 
 face, and were walking away from St. Hugh's. . . . 
 
 As a matter of fact, they were bending away from 
 the road in a line which led them past the rear of their 
 own back gardens. Their feet no longer trod the 
 causeway. They were on turf, and, so far as they 
 could feel it in the darkness, the turf seemed to be 
 mounting in a fairly stiff slope. Miss Gabriel stooped
 
 72 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 to feel the grass with the palm of her hand, and just at 
 that moment her ears caught the faint note of a bell, 
 some way ahead. 
 
 She stood erect, with a little cry of dismay. 
 
 " That settles it. We have turned round ! " 
 
 " Why, what makes you think so ? " 
 
 " Listen to that bell ! Can't you hear it ? " 
 
 " Of course I hear it ! " Mrs. Pope apparently was 
 nettled by the question. " But I don't see " 
 
 "The church bell — we are walking straight towards 
 Old Town." 
 
 " It don't sound to me like the church bell." 
 
 " That's because of the fog. Nothing sounds natural 
 in a fog. . . . The Vicar is having it rung to alarm the 
 people in Old Town. I heard him say this very night 
 that it used to be the custom when a wreck went ashore. 
 . . . Besides, what other bell could it be ? There is no 
 other bell." 
 
 Mrs. Pope was silent, though unconvinced. She did 
 not suggest the Garrison bell, for even to her scattered 
 intelligence it was a thing incredible that they should at 
 this moment be rounding the slope of Garrison Hill, at 
 the back of St. Hugh's. 
 
 "Anything might happen in a fog like this; and if 
 I don't wake up to find myself over the cliffs, it's no 
 thanks " — bitterly — " to them we might have relied on. 
 But I don't believe it's the church bell, not if you went 
 on your bended knees." 
 
 " Then, what do you say to this ? " announced Miss 
 Gabriel triumphantly. 
 
 Mrs. Pope would reserve her opinion until she saw 
 what Miss Gabriel had hold of. 
 
 " Railings," said Miss Gabriel. " We are at the corner 
 of Church Lane, and here's the railing close alongside of
 
 TRIBULATIONS OF MRS. POPE 73 
 
 us. Now we have only to keep by the railing and feel 
 our way — if you'll follow me — and we must find the 
 churchyard gate. The man ringing the bell will 
 certainly have a lantern, and will take us home." 
 
 "I don't fancy churchyards at this time of night," 
 said Mrs. Pope ; " and, what's more, I never did." 
 
 " You must make up your mind to one, then ; that 
 is, unless you prefer to wait here till morning." 
 
 They advanced, feeling their way by the rails, Mrs. 
 Pope sticking close behind Miss Gabriel's heels. The 
 bell continued tolling, not far away ; yet somehow after 
 three minutes' progress they appeared to be no nearer 
 to it. 
 
 " Church Lane was never so long as all this," asserted 
 Mrs. Pope, coming to a desperate halt ; " and you 
 needn't try to persuade me." 
 
 " It does seem a long way," Miss Gabriel conceded ; 
 " but no doubt the fog magnifies things." 
 
 "You had the same tale just now about the church 
 bell. For my part, I don't believe in your church bell, 
 and — listen!" 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 "It has stopped ringing ! " 
 
 So it had. It was too much, perhaps, to say that 
 Miss Gabriel's blood ran cold, there in the darkness, as 
 Mrs. Pope clutched and clung to her ; but certainly her 
 heart sank. 
 
 "All the better," she said bravely, clenching her 
 jaw that her teeth might not be heard to chatter. 
 " Whoever was ringing the bell will be returning this 
 way presently, and we can ask his help." 
 
 But here inspiration came to Mrs. Pope. 
 
 "It's my belief," she said, "we are not in Church 
 Lane at all, but in the churchyard ; and these rails
 
 74 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 don't belong to Church Lane, but to old Bonaday's 
 grave." 
 
 " My dear Charlotte ! When we've been following 
 them for at least two hundred yards ! " 
 
 " My dear Martha, that's just it. We've been following 
 round and round them, and at this rate there's no 
 reason why ever we should stop, in this world." 
 
 "You don't say. . . . But, after all, there's an easy 
 way of proving if you are right. You walk to the left, 
 feeling round them, and I'll walk to the right, and 
 then, if it really is Bonaday's grave, we shall meet." 
 
 " Oh, but I couldn't ! Martha, if you leave me — if 
 once I lose hold of you — I shall die next moment." 
 
 " Then there's only one thing to be done. We must 
 stay here and cry out at the top of our voices, and both 
 together." 
 
 "Yes, yes. . . . Why didn't we think of it before?" 
 
 " For," argued Miss Gabriel, " a bell doesn't ring of 
 itself; and if we can hear the bell, very likely the man 
 who was ringing it can hear us." 
 
 "Will you begin, Martha? I declare to you my 
 whole cage of teeth is loose " 
 
 " Help ! " called Miss Gabriel. Her voice, despite 
 herself, quavered a little at first. " Help ! Help 1 " 
 
 " Help — help — help 1 " chirupped Mrs. Pope, much 
 as an extremely nervous person seeks to attract the 
 attention of a waiter. 
 
 " Louder . . . much louder. He-lp ! " 
 
 " Help — help — he-lp ! Oh, Martha, and in a church- 
 yard, too ! " 
 
 " Louder still. . . . He-el-lp ! " 
 
 " Help ! . . . It's like waking the dead . . ." 
 
 " He-el-lp ! " 
 
 " Hi, there ! Who is it, and whatever on earth's the
 
 TRIBULATIONS OF MRS. POPE 75 
 
 matter?" answered a voice from somewhere on their 
 right. 
 
 " Oh, Hsten, Martha ! Heaven be praised 1 . . ." 
 
 "Who is it?" sounded the voice again, and a dot of 
 light shone through the wall of fog. 
 
 " Answer him, Martha ! " 
 
 " Him ? It isn't a man's voice, but a woman's . . . 
 unless the fog . . . Hi, there ! Help ! Here are two 
 ladies. . . . Why, it's— it's Mrs. Treacher ! " 
 
 For the fog had parted suddenly, and through it, 
 as through a breach in a wall, stepped Mrs. Treacher 
 with a lantern, which she held up close to their faces. 
 
 "Eh? Mrs. Pope and Miss Gabriel? Well, I 
 declare ! " 
 
 " Bless you, Mrs. Treacher ! But, however came you 
 here?" 
 
 "Why not?" asked Mrs. Treacher, after a pause. 
 
 " Here, in the churchyard. . . . You don't tell me 
 you've lost your way, too ? " 
 
 " No, I don't," answered Mrs. Treacher shortly, lifting 
 her lantern. " Churchyard ? What churchyard ? " 
 
 " We thought. . . . We were under the impres- 
 sion. . . ." Miss Gabriel's voice rocked a little before 
 she recovered her self-command. " Would you mind 
 telling us where we are, and what railings are these ? " 
 
 "You're on Garrison Hill," said Mrs. Treacher, who 
 disliked Miss Gabriel. " And you have hold of the rails 
 round the old powder magazine. But what you're 
 tryin' to do with 'em, and at this hour of night, I'll 
 leave you to explain." 
 
 But here, for the first time since their troubles began, 
 Mrs. Pope came to her companion's help. She did so 
 by leaning back limply against the railings, and declaring 
 that she, for her part, was going to faint.
 
 ^e MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Mrs. Treacher caught her as she drooped, and with 
 Miss Gabriel's help supported her up the slope to the 
 barracks, less than fifty yards above. 
 
 " The barracks ? " exclaimed Miss Gabriel, halting as 
 Mrs. Treacher's lantern revealed to her through the 
 fast-thinning fog a portion of the whitewashed fagade. 
 " Oh, but I couldn't ! Not on any account whatever ! " 
 
 "You'll have to," answered Mrs. Treacher shortly, 
 " that is, unless you'd rather have her laid outside on 
 the bare road." 
 
 Indeed Mrs. Pope was in a state of collapse that 
 silenced all scruples. Mrs. Treacher — a powerfully- 
 built woman — caught up the all but inanimate lady in 
 both arms and bore her into the passage, nodding 
 to Miss Gabriel to unhitch from its nail a lamp which 
 hung, backed by a tin reflector, just within the doorway. 
 
 " Unhasp the door to the left, please. We'll rest 
 her down in the Commandant's parlour. There's a 
 sofa — though he do mostly use to keep his books and 
 papers upon it." She laid down her burden. " Oh, 
 you needn't fear to look about you ! The men-folk be 
 all off to the wreck, and won't be back till Lord knows 
 when." 
 
 Miss Gabriel, however, was not looking about her. 
 Her gaze, following the ray of the lamp as she held it 
 aloft, travelled across the stooping shoulders of Mrs. 
 Treacher and fastened itself upon a garment of gaudily- 
 striped woolwork lying across the arm of the sofa, 
 where the Commandant had tossed it impatiently. 
 
 " Terribly messy a man always is when left to himself," 
 said Mrs. Treacher, rising and stepping to a corner 
 cupboard. " If he keeps such a thing as a drop of brandy 
 on the premises, it'll be here, I reckon." 
 
 But the cupboard was empty. For the sternest of
 
 TRIBULATIONS OF MRS. POPE yy 
 
 reasons the Commandant had, for two or three years 
 past, denied himself the taste of strong waters. 
 
 Mrs. Treacher passed the back of her hand across 
 the bridge of her nose. " I'll step over to the Castle," 
 she announced, " for a drop of gin I keep against 
 Treacher's attacks." (Let not Mrs. Treacher's idiom 
 frighten the reader. She meant only that her husband 
 suffered from an internal trouble which need not be speci- 
 fied, and that she kept the gin by her as a precaution.) 
 
 "And there's a quill pen of the Commandant's on 
 the writing-table," she added ; " if you'll burn the feather 
 of it under her nose." 
 
 She bustled off. Miss Gabriel stepped to the table 
 and picked up the quill, her eyes travelling round the 
 ill-lit, unfurnished room ; but they returned to the 
 waistcoat staring at her in the lamp-light above the 
 head of the recumbent Mrs. Pope. 
 
 As she held the quill over the lamp's flame, her eyes 
 still questioned the garment. She was bending close 
 to it when Mrs. Pope emitted a fluttering sigh and lifted 
 her eyelids feebly. 
 
 " You are feeling better, dear ? " asked Miss Gabriel 
 solicitously. 
 
 At this moment the latch of the door rattled. She 
 looked up in surprise, for Mrs. Treacher could scarcely 
 have gone and returned in so short a while. 
 
 The door opened. On the threshold stood a vision 
 — a woman clad in furs — a woman with diamonds flash- 
 ing on her white throat where the furs parted. 
 
 Miss Gabriel gasped. 
 
 The apparition stood for a moment, looked her in the 
 eyes, and was gone, closing the door softly. 
 
 Miss Gabriel tottered, and sank back against the 
 sofa's edge.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A BRIEF REVENGE 
 
 " f ADIES?" ejaculated the Commander. "In my 
 
 1 > quarters ? " 
 
 Vashti nodded demurely. " I think you might have 
 told me," she said in a tone of mild reproach. 
 
 " But, my dear young lady " 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 "Hey?" 
 
 " — for calling me young." She reached out a hand, 
 and, taking the lantern from him, held it high so that 
 the beams fell on her face. " It is many years since our 
 first meeting, and unhappily we have the date of it 
 fixed. Give me credit that I reminded you ; for I don't 
 mind confessing that, though it hasn't come to a quarrel 
 yet, my looking-glass and I are not the friends we 
 were." 
 
 Here, had the Commandant been a readier man, 
 he might have answered with a compliment, and a 
 truthful one. For indeed it was a very beautiful face 
 that the lantern showed him, and — here was the strange 
 part of the business — it had been growing younger 
 since she stepped off the ship, and somehow it must 
 have contrived, in spite of the darkness, to convey a 
 hint of its rejuvenescence, for the word "young" had 
 slipped from him quite involuntarily. 
 
 But, after all, there is nothing so subtle as simplicity, 
 
 78
 
 A BRIEF REVENGE 79 
 
 and, after all, the Commandant managed to imply that 
 she must be a witch. 
 
 " Then, my dear young lady," he replied, " since you 
 have spirited these females into my quarters, I can 
 only ask you to go and spirit them away again," 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " What ! You won't ? . . . Very well, then, I must 
 deal with them, while you go off with the lantern and 
 search for Mrs. Treacher." 
 
 ** You are a brave man," said she, " and — and I think 
 — by the look of them — you are going to have great 
 fun!" 
 
 The Commandant stood for a moment, rubbing his 
 chin and staring after the lantern as it vanished in the 
 fog. With a shake of the shoulders he pulled himself 
 together, marched into the barracks, and boldly opened 
 the door. 
 
 " Miss Gabriel I " 
 
 " Major Vigoureux ! " 
 
 "Certainly, ma'am — these being my own quarters, 
 
 unless " He paused and gazed around, as if to 
 
 make sure that his eyes were not deceiving him. 
 
 " Yes, yes — and at this time of night. As I was 
 just saying to Charlotte here, ' Think what a terrible 
 construction one might put on it ! ' " 
 
 The Commandant lifted his eyebrows. (" I behaved 
 like a brute," he confessed afterwards ; " but the woman, 
 a few hours before, had shown no mercy to me.") 
 " Indeed, ma'am ? " said he. " A construction ? Then 
 you must invent one for me, please, since I can think 
 of none." 
 
 " We have had the most terrible experience, sir 1 The 
 most terrible fright ! You have seen Mrs. Treacher ? " 
 
 " Has anything happened to Mrs. Treacher? "
 
 8o MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " No — but it all came about through the fog " 
 
 " — and my husband deserting me," put in Mrs. 
 Pope. 
 
 The Commandant passed a hand across his brow. 
 The gesture seemed to express perplexity ; in truth it 
 covered amusement and a kind of fearful joy in his 
 newly-found talent for dissimulation. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Pope," he answered, his voice faltering 
 a little, " you don't mean to tell me that your excellent 
 husband " 
 
 " Of course she doesn't," snapped Miss Gabriel. " She 
 means to say that the gentlemen were escorting us home, 
 but, meeting the coastguard with the news of this 
 terrible wreck " 
 
 " A wreck, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Why, God bless the man ! Don't you know ? 
 Haven't you heard the guns going? . . . But of 
 course you have ! Mrs. Treacher told me you were 
 down helping with the boats — you and her husband and 
 Archelaus, though what help you three supposed your- 
 selves capable of giving," wound up Miss Gabriel, 
 reverting for a moment to her customary manner, " I 
 don't pretend to guess." 
 
 " As for that," the Commandant answered gravely, 
 " I am happy to tell you there has been no wreck. 
 True, a vessel in distress — a large liner — had found 
 herself among the Helldeeps, of all abominably awkward 
 places. But by the mercy of Heaven she managed to 
 extricate herself, and has dropped anchor, not half an 
 hour ago, in the Roads." 
 
 Miss Gabriel stared. "The Helldeeps . . . and 
 now at anchor in the Roads?" she repeated stupidly. 
 " Oh, will someone kindly tell me whether I am standing 
 on my head or my heels ! ' A large liner ' — the thing's
 
 A BRIEF REVENGE 8i 
 
 impossible ! And in a fog that thick you couldn't see 
 your hand before your face ! " 
 
 " Are you quite sure, ladies," asked the Commandant, 
 still gravely, "that you are not exaggerating the 
 thickness of the fog somewhat ? " 
 
 "What?" Miss Gabriel took him up, like an echo. 
 " When we started for home and found we were half-way 
 up Garrison Hill, and all the time convinced we were 
 at Old Town, in the churchyard ! " 
 
 The Commandant shook his head ; and it must be 
 conceded that he had some excuse. 
 
 " But why in the churchyard ? " he asked gently. 
 
 "Because of the bell. If it comes to that" — Miss 
 Gabriel threw herself desperately on the offensive — 
 " how do you account for the woman we saw here, 
 just now ? " 
 
 "I beg your pardon? A — a woman, did you say?" 
 (Oh, Major Vigoureux !) 
 
 " Yes, sir — a woman ; a bedizened woman." 
 
 " My dear Martha," pleaded Mrs. Pope feebly, " are 
 we quite sure that we saw her? — that it wasn't a — a 
 
 sort of m istake ? It certainly seemed — for a moment 
 
 But really, you know, there is no one in the Islands " 
 
 " My dear Charlotte, didn't we see her with our own 
 eyes ? " 
 
 Mrs. Pope sighed. " It seems to me I have seen such 
 a number of things — of incredible things — to-night ! " 
 
 " You are sure it wasn't Mrs. Treacher ? " suggested 
 the Commandant wickedly. 
 
 " Mrs. Treacher ! Mrs. Trea Does Mrs. Treacher 
 
 go about in silks and furs and low bodices, with a 
 thousand pounds' worth of diamonds on her abandoned 
 neck ? " 
 
 " Certainly not to my knowledge. But," said the 
 6
 
 82 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Commandant, turning, as the door opened, " you had 
 better ask her for yourself." 
 
 Now, it may be that Mrs. Treacher had also allowed 
 Vashti to bewitch her. At any rate, she cordially hated 
 Miss Gabriel, and she took, then and there, what she 
 herself called afterwards a strong line. 
 
 " What are they wanting to know now ? " she 
 demanded, addressing the Commandant. 
 
 " Miss Gabriel wants to know " — he answered, in a 
 husky voice, while he pretended to trim the lamp — " if 
 you go about in silks and furs." 
 
 *'No, I don't," replied Mrs. Treacher, setting down 
 the bottle of gin. " And, what's more, I don't go 
 a-sheevoing it around Garrison Hill in the small hours, 
 and a-holding on to railings, and a-clammering for 
 strong drink." 
 
 " That will do, Mrs. Treacher," interposed her master, 
 suddenly reduced to contrition at the sight of Miss 
 Gabriel, who stood speechless, opening and shutting 
 her mouth like a fish. " The ladies have lost their way 
 in the fog, and were, on the whole, extremely fortunate 
 to reach here without accident. They will agree, I 
 daresay, that the sooner I escort them home the better. 
 Fetch me a lantern, if you please." 
 
 " It — it is extremely good of you," stammered Miss 
 Gabriel. 
 
 " My dear madam ! " he protested, with a good- 
 natured smile. 
 
 Miss Gabriel did not respond to it. But, though 
 bitterly angry, for the moment she was cowed, and 
 she made no further reference to the mysterious 
 lady. 
 
 She declined the Commandant's arm. Mrs. Pope, 
 however, took it almost eagerly, and on the way down
 
 A BRIEF REVENGE 83 
 
 the hill he obtained from her a vokible if somewhat 
 incoherent account of the night's adventures. He did 
 his best now to make Hght of them. Accidents even 
 more extraordinary had happened in fogs before now. 
 He related how two companies of the Naval Brigade, 
 under Sevastopol, had come within an ace of firing 
 on each other. ... He told of the Milo, and her 
 wonderful escape ; but he said nothing of Vashti. In 
 the midst of his narrative he found himself wondering 
 what answer he could make if they questioned him 
 again upon the apparition. 
 
 But neither Mrs. Pope nor Miss Gabriel made further 
 allusion to it. Their silence, for which at first he was 
 merely thankful, began to punish him after a while, and 
 ended by almost daunting him. 
 
 Could it be possible that he, too, had been cheated 
 by an apparition ? He took leave of the ladies at their 
 respective gates, retiring delicately as soon as, waiting 
 in the road, he had assured himself that they were 
 within doors. Miss Gabriel admitted herself with a 
 latchkey. Mrs. Pope's timid knock was answered by 
 her astonished husband, who, having just returned from 
 the harbour, and assuming his spouse to be long since 
 in bed and asleep, had lit a candle to explore the 
 dining-room cellaret. 
 
 The front door was shut on their reciprocal surprise, 
 and the Commandant withdrew. He had sighed, before 
 now, as he had shut Mr. and Mrs. Pope's front gate 
 after an evening's whist. Doubtless they were a stupid 
 couple. 
 
 A light shone from the barracks — from the office 
 window to the right of the door. Within the office 
 Vashti had dragged the sofa across the room and sat,
 
 84 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 with her fur cloak thrown back, toasting her toes before 
 a warm fire. In the dancing flame of it her diamonds 
 sparkled as she turned to him. 
 
 " Mrs. Treacher is upstairs," she said, " hunting out 
 sheets to air for me. Now fill your pipe, please, and 
 sit down and tell me all about it." 
 
 Major Vigoureux found an old pipe on the mantel- 
 shelf, dived in the tobacco jar for a few dry crumbs, 
 filled and lit, and stamped out a spark that had dropped 
 on the hearthrug. 
 
 "It isn't a creditable story," said he, puffing slowly, 
 and blinking at the flash of jewels below her white 
 throat. "In fact, I behaved like a brute." 
 
 " Tell me about it," she repeated. 
 
 So he told her ; and found himself smoking and 
 watching her, while she laughed softly, leaning forward 
 to the fire, and gazing into the heart of it.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE SALVING OF SS. MILO 
 
 MAJOR VIGOUREUX awoke at daybreak with 
 a vague sense that something important had 
 happened or was going to happen — a feeling he had 
 not known for years. It was so strange that he sat up 
 wondering, rubbing the back of his head. 
 
 Then he remembered, and called out to Sergeant 
 Archelaus. 
 
 Sergeant Archelaus appeared, a moment later, ready 
 dressed, and on more than usually good terms with 
 himself. He had indued his master's trousers, and, 
 save for an unfashionable bagginess at the hips, they 
 fitted him surprisingly well, 
 
 " Good - morning, Archelaus. Did you happen to 
 hear, last night, at what time the Milo weighs 
 anchor ? " 
 
 " I heard the captain, sir, tell the pilots to be aboard 
 at half-after-seven. But with a vessel of her size you 
 may count on their waiting till high-water or there- 
 abouts." 
 
 "In any case" — the Commandant consulted his 
 watch — " we have not too much time. Where is 
 Treacher ? " 
 
 "Downstairs, sir, along with his missus, stoking the 
 kitchen fire, with mattresses built up before it like a 
 sandbag battery. Seems to me the woman's been 
 
 85
 
 86 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 spending half the night airing one thing and another. 
 She says the place is like a vault. Not," added 
 Archelaus magnanimously, " that I mind her talk." 
 
 " Quite right, Archelaus ; I particularly hope you won't 
 quarrel with Mrs. Treacher while she is here waiting on 
 Miss — er — on the lady." 
 
 "If," said Archelaus darkly, "as how I wanted to 
 quarrel with a female, I should have taken and married 
 one long ago. As 'tis, when the woman's tongue 
 becomes afflicting, I turns round and pities Treacher. 
 There's more ways of doing that than in so many 
 words, and you'd be astonished how they both dis- 
 likes it." 
 
 "At any rate," said the Commandant mildly, "they 
 have saved you the trouble of being late with the fire 
 this morning. So you may fetch me my shaving-water 
 at once, please." 
 
 He sprang out of bed and reached for his dressing- 
 gown, astonished at his own good spirits. " It does 
 make a difference," said he aloud, though the remark 
 was addressed to himself, 
 
 " It do," said Archelaus, turning in the doorway, 
 
 " I — I beg your pardon ? " The Commandant turned 
 about, a trifle confused. 
 
 " It may seem a little thing ; but it gives a man self- 
 respect, and I'm glad you noticed 'em," Archelaus 
 looked down at his legs complacently. " Always 
 supposin'," he added, "they don't take me for a French- 
 man, owing to the fulness hereabouts." 
 
 Yes, certainly, it made a difference — to rise in the 
 morning with a sense of something waiting to be done. 
 So the Commandant put it to himself while he shaved, 
 standing at his dressing-table under the barrack window. 
 The window was set high in the wall ; too high to
 
 THE SALVING OF SS. MILO 87 
 
 afford him a view of the Islands, even though he stood 
 on tiptoe. But through it and above the open pane 
 he caught a glimpse of blue sky and lilac-coloured cloud, 
 touched with gold by the newly risen sun ; and he could 
 guess the rest. A perfect morning ! — clean and crisp, 
 with the sea a translucent blue, and sunlight glittering 
 on the Island beaches ; the air still, yet bracing, and 
 withal ineffably pure — a morning mysterious with the 
 sense of autumn, but of autumn rarified by its passage 
 over the salt strait, deodorised, made pure of marsh fog 
 and the rotting leaf. 
 
 The Commandant hummed to himself in the inter- 
 vals of his shaving, which, nevertheless, he performed 
 meticulously, by force of habit. It was his custom to 
 shave before taking his bath. For years he had made 
 a ritual of his morning toilet : so many passes of his 
 razor across the strop (to be precise, one hundred and 
 fifty, neither more nor less), so many douches with the 
 sponge, so many petitions afterwards on his knees. 
 Yes, it is to be feared that his prayers, no less than his 
 shaving, had become a drill, though one may plead for 
 him that he always went through it conscientiously. 
 A stroke too few across the strop — a petition to the 
 Almighty missed — either would have worried him with 
 a feeling that the day had been begun amiss. He was 
 poor, but with the never-failing well on Garrison Hill 
 he could come clean as the richest to his prayers. 
 
 Even Miss Gabriel had to admit that the poor man 
 (as she put it) knew how to take care of his person. 
 
 " We shall be in good time, Archelaus," said the 
 Commandant, with a side-glance at his watch ; " that 
 is, if you'll step down the hill and get the boat ready." 
 
 Archelaus, whose hearing had not improved of late, 
 checked himself in the act of filling his master's tub.
 
 88 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " I didn't clearly catch what you said, for the 
 splashing. . . . Boat? If you want the boat, I put 
 her off to the mornings last night. Found her tied up 
 and bumping against the quay steps, quite as if money 
 was no object to any of us." 
 
 "Thank you. Yes, I relied on your finding and 
 mooring her properly. Well, now when you are ready 
 I want you to unmoor her again. We are going off 
 to the liner to fetch Miss — that is to say — the lady's 
 boxes." 
 
 Sergeant Archelaus faced about slowly, can in hand. 
 
 *• O — oh ! " said he slowly. " Relative of yours, sir ? 
 — making so bold." 
 
 " Dear me, no ; nothing of the sort." 
 
 " Paying lodger, perhaps. ... Or else we've come 
 into a fortune all of a sudden, an' that accounts for 
 Treacher's playing ad lib. with the coals — begging 
 your pardon again." 
 
 The Commandant winced, and came within an ace of 
 gashing himself severely. He had forgotten the penny 
 in his pocket, the gulf between this and pay-day. And 
 Vashti, no doubt, was used to fare daintily, luxuriously ! 
 
 " I really think " — he turned on Archelaus in sudden 
 anger — " you might know better than to stare into the 
 glass when I am shaving. Moreover, you forget your 
 place, and inexcusably, even for an old servant." 
 
 Archelaus resumed his filling of the bath, and, having 
 filled it, withdrew without another word. 
 
 Yes ; but while the manner of Archelaus' speech 
 had deserved rebuke, in the matter of it Archelaus was 
 right. The matter of it was urgent, too, and not to be 
 played with. In an hour or so Vashti would be awake. 
 . . . She must delay dressing until her boxes arrived ; 
 but, once dressed, she would expect breakfast. The
 
 THE SALVING OF SS. MILO 89 
 
 larder, to his knowledge, contained but the rusty end of 
 a flitch of green bacon — that, and perhaps a couple of 
 rusty eggs, a loaf, and some salt butter. Fool that he 
 was! And a minute ago he had greeted the day so 
 light-heartedly ! 
 
 What was to be done? In the pauses of sponging 
 and towelling himself, the Commandant asked the 
 question again and again. Could he go to Mrs. 
 Treacher and borrow back the four shillings he had 
 given her last night ? Fish, new-laid eggs, fresh butter, 
 marmalade, the best tea procurable in the Islands. . . . 
 Yes, undoubtedly four shillings would go a long way 
 towards providing breakfast. But after breakfast would 
 come luncheon, and after luncheon. . . . 
 
 There was Mr. Tregaskis, of the Shop. Mr. Tregaskis 
 sold almost everything " advantageous to life " — as 
 Shakespeare's exiles said upon another Island : every- 
 thing from bacon and pickles to boots, ironmongery, 
 and sun-bonnets. For twelve years the Commandant 
 had dealt with Mr. Tregaskis, paying whatever Mr. 
 Tregaskis charged him, and always in ready money. 
 He knew, moreover, that Mr. Tregaskis gave credit : and 
 yet after twelve years of ready-money dealing he winced 
 as he saw himself entering the shop and proposing to 
 open an account. He foresaw himself inexorably driven 
 to it. But he foresaw himself also stammering out the 
 suggestion with every sign of conscious rascality. And, 
 after all, was it honest to enter a shop and open an 
 account with one penny in pocket ? Suppose that, next 
 pay-day, no pay were forthcoming ! 
 
 He must approach Mr. Tregaskis : there was no help 
 for it. Yet the prospect pleased him so little that, as he 
 walked down the hill to the quay, he decided to put off 
 the interview, and was almost running past the shop
 
 90 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 (which had just been unshuttered) when Mr. Tregaskis 
 himself appeared, paused of a sudden in the upper and 
 open half of his shop doorway. 
 
 "Eh? Is it you, Major? Good -morning!" he 
 called. 
 
 " Good - morning ! And a fine morning, too, Mr. 
 Tregaskis." 
 
 " After a night of marvels. You've heard about the 
 liner, sir, out in the Roads ? . . . 'Tis all a mystery to 
 me how she ever found her way in." 
 
 " I am putting off to learn the particulars. And, by 
 the way, Mr. Tregaskis" — the Commandant paused — 
 " I intended to call in upon you on my way back." 
 
 " Anything I can do for you, sir, and at any time ! " 
 responded Mr. Tregaskis. " I suppose, now," he added, 
 " you'd take it as a liberty if I was to ask for a seat in 
 your boat ? " 
 
 " Not in the least. There she is, waiting off the quay 
 steps : so if you have business on board, put on your hat, 
 come along with me, and welcome ! " 
 
 " Thanking you kindly, Major. Which I was reckon- 
 ing that — she being from foreign and the Islands the 
 first place she've touched at — I might pick up a bravish 
 order in the way of fresh milk and eggs, not to mention 
 that Job Clemow sold me half a hundred-weight of 
 plaice, with a cod or two, that he took on the spiller 
 yesterday." 
 
 "Come along, by all means," repeated the Com- 
 mandant, moving off towards the quay steps ; and 
 Tregaskis, having tucked his shop-apron around his 
 waist, and run into the back passage for his billy-cock 
 hat, hurried in his wake. 
 
 Reuben Tregaskis — known throughout the Islands 
 as The Bester — was a genial ruffian of familiar accost,
 
 THE SALVING OF SS. MILO 91 
 
 red-faced, round in the stomach, utterly unscrupulous at 
 a bargain. The Commandant did not like him, and 
 particularly disliked the prospect of asking him a 
 favour. Most of all he regretted, as he pushed off, that 
 chance this morning had forced him to put such a man 
 under a small obligation. He feared that, when it came 
 to asking leave to open an account, he might seem to be 
 using this small advantage. (Such a fear, it scarcely 
 needs saying, was groundless. In his business dealings 
 The Bester was superior alike to gratitude and rancour, 
 and would bargain with his own mother as with his 
 worst enemy.) 
 
 The Commandant, oppressed with his own thoughts, 
 bent his attention upon the steering, and punctuated 
 with monosyllables only the exuberant flow of Mr. 
 Tregaskis' conversation, which by and by, as they neared 
 the open roadstead, resolved itself into offers of wagers 
 on the length, tonnage, and actual carrying capacity of 
 the liner. 
 
 She lay very nearly in the middle of the roadstead, 
 broadside-on to the morning sunshine, and the more the 
 Commandant studied her the more he wondered at last 
 night's miracle. She had not yet begun to weigh, 
 though he discerned a couple of St. Anne's pilots talking 
 with an officer on the bridge. Presently the officer left 
 them, and descended to the deck, where he stood in the 
 gangway awaiting the boat. 
 
 " Major Vigoureux ? " he asked, lifting the peak of his 
 cap, as she fell alongside. 
 
 The Commandant, not a little astonished, returned 
 the salutation. " That is my name, sir." 
 
 " I have been expecting you," said the officer. " I am 
 Captain Whitaker, at your service — the skipper of this 
 vessel, in fact ; and thankful enough, I can tell you, to
 
 92 MAJOR VIGOUREUX, 
 
 be alive this morning and in command of her. Madame's 
 boxes are on deck here, if you will do me the favour to 
 climb on board. . . . Ah, and here is Madame's maid, to 
 give account of them ! " 
 
 The Commandant, drawing breath at the head of the 
 ladder, and glancing down the Milds majestic length of 
 deck, was aware of four large trunks, and beside them a 
 neat foreign-looking woman, who curtsied in foreign 
 fashion as she came forward. 
 
 " M'sieur will take my duty to Madame, and tell her 
 that I have done my best to pack to her orders. The 
 rest I am to report from Southampton when we arrive." 
 
 " And I daresay," put in Captain Whitaker, with an 
 amused turn of the eye towards the trunks, then back at 
 the Commandant, " Madame would call these 'just a few 
 necessaries.' Though I say to you, sir," he went on 
 gravely, " that all the Milds hold hasn't room enough to 
 stow what Madame deserves, be it in clothes or jewels." 
 
 " I — I beg your pardon ? " 
 
 " She hasn't told you ? No ; I bet she wouldn't," 
 said Captain Whitaker. " Come down to my cabin, 
 sir, and let me offer you a brandy-and-soda. No? 
 Then, perhaps you'll do me the honour to join me at 
 breakfast — which must be ready at this moment," he 
 added, as eight strokes sounded on the ship's bell 
 forward. " Never mind the size of the trunks, sir ; one 
 of my men shall help you ashore with 'em." 
 
 In the captain's cabin, which had a floor of parquet 
 and panels of teak set in mahogany, stood a table 
 with a white cloth upon it, and a breakfast array of 
 blue and white china. A steward, in a blue suit 
 with brass buttons, brought the meat, in dishes of 
 polished electro-plate, and on a small sideboard stood 
 other dishes with small spirit-lamps burning beneath.
 
 THE SALVING OF SS. MILO 93 
 
 The Commandant seated himself; ate, drank, and 
 marvelled. 
 
 "You know Madame?" asked Captain Whitaker, 
 helping himself to a dish of kidneys and bacon. He 
 nodded, intercepting the Commandant's gaze. "We 
 keep them in ice, if you're not above trying our fare. 
 You'll find they are not bad. My other meals I 
 take with the passengers, but I breakfast alone, as a 
 rule." 
 
 The Commandant's mind ran on the breakfast — yet 
 to be extracted — from Mr. Tregaskis' shop, 
 
 " You know her ? " asked Captain Whitaker. 
 
 " I once had the pleasure — years ago " 
 
 "If that's so"— Captain Whitaker nodded— "we'll 
 take her praises for granted. She's great; you 
 can sum it up at that. ... By the way, did 
 she happen to tell you why she is leaving the ship 
 here?" 
 
 " Yes ; she went ashore in a hurry, she said, to avoid 
 being thanked." 
 
 " Then I guessed right," 
 
 " — though," confessed the Commandant, " I haven't a 
 notion what she meant." 
 
 Captain Whitaker set down his breakfast-cup and 
 buttered himself a piece of toast, gazing the while long 
 and earnestly at his companion. 
 
 " No ? Then I'll tell you. The passengers don't 
 know it as yet, though I've caught a guess or two flying 
 around; but the truth is sure to come out, sooner or 
 later. Man, it was she that saved the Milo last night, 
 in that ghastly twenty minutes before we picked up the 
 pilot. . . . Oh, I see by your face you don't believe 
 me! — but you must take it or leave it. Shall I 
 go on ? "
 
 94 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " Go on," said the Commandant. 
 
 " We were due out of New York on the twenty-seventh 
 but missed our tide in clearing and didn't pass the bar 
 till early next morning. We carried fifty-nine saloon 
 passengers, seventy-five second, and a hundred and 
 twenty-five steerage, with a crew of a hundred exactly. 
 Besides these we had the mails — two hundred and 
 twenty bags — and a fair amount of dollars in specie (I 
 needn't tell how much). The weather was thick from 
 the first, with a heavy sea running on the other side. 
 We met it full just outside Sandy Hook, and for three 
 days I pitied the passengers. The third night out the 
 mischief happened. I had left the bridge soon after four 
 bells, and was just turning in for my beauty-sleep when 
 I heard an unholy racket below in the engine-room, and 
 felt the ship slow down of a sudden. One of the rods 
 had kicked loose from its gib and started to flail around 
 death and destruction. Thanks to Crosbie, our first 
 engineer, she was brought up before kicking us inside 
 out, and we managed to heave-to ; but the repairs cost us 
 close on eighteen hours. By daybreak the weather was 
 thickening worse than ever, though with no great 
 amount of wind, and we started again in a fog so thick 
 that from the bridge you could see her bows, and only 
 just. Well, that's how it was with us, all the way across. 
 We seemed to carry the fog ; and though it lifted a bit, 
 off and on, it never looked like giving us a chance of an 
 observation. All yesterday afternoon I was worried by 
 the thought that we'd over-run our reckoning and must 
 be somewhere near the Islands, and about two o'clock — 
 though the soundings were good — I ordered the engines 
 to be reduced below the half-speed at which she was 
 running. 
 
 *' To ease the passengers' minds I had arranged for a
 
 THE SALVING OF SS. MILO 95 
 
 concert in the saloon after dinner, and Madame — she 
 had booked with us under a name that wasn't her own, 
 to dodge the New York newspaper men, but the 
 passengers recognised her — had promised me to sing 
 to them (You have heard her, eh? — it makes you cry, 
 and not mind, either, who sees you), I remember now 
 that she looked at me pretty straight when she gave the 
 promise, but seeing me not minded to speak, she asked 
 no questions. 
 
 "Well, the concert came off. At any other time I'd 
 have given pounds to be sitting there and listening ; but 
 the worry on my mind kept me to the bridge, and from 
 there I heard her, the notes lifting up through the saloon 
 sky-light as if heaven and earth had somehow got 
 capsized, or else an angel had come aboard to sing us 
 clear of the fog. There were three of us on the bridge 
 — myself, and the third officer, Mr. Francillon, and a 
 seaman called Petersen ; and when the song ended — it 
 was a little Italian something-or-other, very bright and 
 gay — and the clapping began and the calls for an 
 encore, I couldn't stand it any longer, and I was afraid 
 she'd be starting on ' Home, Sweet Home,' or something 
 of that sort, and I didn't want Mr. Francillon to see my 
 face. So I made up an excuse and sent him off to the 
 chart-house for a pair of dividers (which I didn't want), 
 and away he went. 
 
 " When he was gone I stood by the wheel for a bit, 
 listening as the clapping died down. It stopped at last, 
 and I braced myself up and waited to have my feelings 
 wrung, when just behind me I heard a step on the 
 ladder. Of course I took it for Mr. Francillon return- 
 ing, and I wheeled about, short-tempered like, to tell 
 him he needn't be tip-toeing — we weren't on the bridge 
 to listen to Grand Opera — when what do I see but
 
 96 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Madame ! ' You needn't look so cross, captain/ she 
 
 says ; ' for I know well enough I'm breaking all rules, 
 
 and I'll go away quietly and sing to them again. But 
 
 we're somewhere near the Islands, and the call came on 
 
 me to warn you 1 ' * Why, truly, ma'am,' I answered, ' I 
 
 believe we're not far off them,' ' We're close to them,' 
 
 she answered me, nodding her head. ' I'm Island born, 
 
 captain, and I feel 'em in my blood.' I put this down 
 
 to craziness — hysterics — whatever you choose to call it ; 
 
 but just to soothe her mind and get her down quietly 
 
 off the bridge, I sang out to the leadsman to know if he 
 
 had found soundings. I was bending over the rail 
 
 when I felt a touch on my arm, and heard her cry out 
 
 * Starboard ! Hard a-starboard — hard ! ' — ^just like that." 
 
 Captain Whitaker dropped his voice to a low, fierce 
 
 whisper as he imitated her. " It took the helmsman 
 
 sharp and sudden, so that he had begun to put the 
 
 wheel down before he realised that the order didn't come 
 
 from me; and the next moment Madame had flung 
 
 herself upon it and was helping with both hands. 
 
 'Hullo!' says I, stepping after her smartly, and as 
 
 good as asking if she or I commanded the Milo. The 
 
 passengers below had started to sing ' D'ye ken John 
 
 Peel ? ' and were yelling out a lot of silly hunting-cries 
 
 with the chorus. I could hear nothing above the racket. 
 
 But sure enough, looking to port over my shoulder 
 
 as I laid hand on the wheel to check it, I saw a 
 
 whitish smear that meant breakers; and the smear 
 
 no sooner showed than above it a great black cliff 
 
 stood out as if 'twere a moving thing and meant 
 
 to carve into us right amidships — a great cliff with 
 
 a rock on it like the Duke of Wellington's nose. 
 
 A man from the top of it could have jumped on 
 
 to our bulwarks, and I shut my eyes as it over-
 
 THE SALVING OF SS. MILO 97 
 
 hung, waiting for the crash ; but it slid by and 
 was gone like a slide you pass through a magic- 
 lantern. 
 
 " ' Port now ! Port for your life ! ' she called out ; and 
 I saw first of all her hand go out to push Petersen off, 
 and then the little sparks flickering on her rings as she 
 gripped the spokes, and, checking 'em, dragged the 
 wheel back hand over hand, A man's strength she 
 must have had. ' Help me,' was all she said in a kind 
 of panting voice ; and as I caught hold to help it over, 
 ' That was the Pope's Head — Hard — hard up, now ! and 
 ring down for full speed ! ' * Full speed ? ' I grunted, 
 yet pressing on the wheel all the time — * It's stop 
 her, you mean, and anchor.' 'What! here, with 
 Helldeeps on your starboard bow and a five-knot 
 tide running ! Full speed ahead — there's no room 
 to swing — no, nor half.' She stopped my hand on the 
 bell and rang down herself, ' Full speed ahead ' ; and 
 the passengers whooping away at ' John Peel ' all the 
 while. 
 
 "Then, as the engines began to run, she looked at 
 me, still holding on by the wheel. ' They may do it,' 
 she said, 'they may do it. At half speed she'd never 
 point off, against a five-knot tide.' ' God have mercy 
 
 on us ! ' was all I could say. ' If you know ' 
 
 'Know?' she caught me up. 'I was brought up to 
 know. But she'll never do it if she don't pick up 
 way. . . . Ah, that's better ! ' she said, with a kind 
 of sigh, staring over the starboard bow into the fog. 
 ' Now ! ' — and we held our breath, all of us ; for Mr. 
 Francillon was back on the bridge standing close 
 behind her and wondering what the devil was up. 
 She let thirty seconds pass, and then turned to him 
 as if he'd been there all the while and she knew it.
 
 98 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " * Look astern,' she said, ' and maybe, if you're clever, 
 you can see the Monk.' 
 
 " ' The Monk ! ' We cried this out together ; for 
 that we had passed the Monk without sighting her 
 or catching sound of her fog-horns was a thing 
 incredible. 
 
 " ' But so it is/ said she. ' We have passed the Monk ; 
 passed it close. Don't I know the Pope's Head on 
 Lesser Teague ? Now hard a-port still — for we've the 
 Gunnel Dogs somewhere there to leeward, and they're 
 worse almost than Helldeeps.' 
 
 " We were racing by this time. There was nothing 
 in the world to see — only the fog, that had turned, 
 all in a minute, to dusk ; and nothing to feel except 
 that we were racing down between the walls of it like 
 a stick caught in a mill leat. Worse it was ; we were 
 driving down full tilt with a five-knot tide under us. 
 If we struck there was one consolation ; the end 
 would come soon. As * John Peel ' ended we could 
 hear the tide -race take up the tune and hum it 
 on the wind of our passage ; and above it I heard the 
 third officer call out that he had glimpsed a light 
 astern. 
 
 " ' The Monk ! ' said Madame, nodding her head to 
 me to help her in easing off the wheel. 
 
 " And I don't know, sir, if you have ever been through 
 a gale at sea ; a really tight gale, I mean ; with a 
 while in it — maybe an hour only, maybe twenty- 
 four — when the odds are slowly turning against 
 you. Then there comes a point when, with nothing 
 to show for it, you feel that you are holding your 
 own ; and another point when you feel that, bar 
 accidents, the worst is over. The sea seems to break 
 just as savage as ever, and you can't swear that
 
 THE SALVING OF SS. MILO 99 
 
 the wind has lessened. You have nothing to point 
 to ; but, all the same, you know, and can thank the 
 Lord. 
 
 " That's how it was with the Milo. I couldn't say 
 when the danger passed ; but I found myself looking 
 at Madame across the binnacle lamp, and she was 
 looking at me. My hand went out and I rung 
 down for half-speed, then for dead slow. We stood 
 there and listened while the engines changed their 
 beat from one to the other. In the saloon they had 
 started a comic song with a chorus. Said she, after 
 a bit, 'You can bring up now and wait for morning. 
 North of the Gunnel here there's an eddy slack 
 where the tides meet, and you may count on thirty 
 fathoms.' 
 
 " I called down to know what the lead reported. 
 I felt my voice shaking, and the leadsman's voice shook 
 a bit too as he called back that he had found the 
 bottom with the red seventeen fathom mark. Half a 
 minute later he sang out that his line had lost it. 
 I was just about calling to let go anchor when away 
 on our starboard bow we heard the pilots hailing. We 
 sent up a flare, and at sight of it the lighthouse-men, 
 away on the Monk, began banging their gun, and small 
 blame to them ! "
 
 CHATTER X 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF FOUR SHILLINGS 
 
 AS he finished his story, Captain Whitaker stood up 
 and reached out a hand to open a glass-fronted 
 cupboard in which he kept his books and papers. The 
 Commandant, mistaking his movement, had risen also. 
 
 " No, no, sir," the captain corrected him. " Sit down 
 and finish your breakfast. The fact is, when her maid, 
 last night, handed me the letter telling me she had 
 gone ashore, I sat down and wrote an answer. Here it 
 is, and I was going to ask you to deliver it for me." 
 
 The Commandant took it, and placed it carefully in 
 his breast pocket. " I thank you," he answered, " but I 
 have breakfasted. If you don't mind, it occurs to me 
 that some of your passengers will soon be about the 
 decks, and will see the luggage going overside, and ask 
 questions." 
 
 " And that's well thought of," interrupted Captain 
 Whitaker; "though I expect, as a matter of fact, the 
 luggage is all in your boat before this. How far lies 
 your house from the quay, by the way ? " 
 
 The Commandant answered incautiously that his 
 house — the barracks — stood at the very top of the 
 hill. 
 
 "Why, then," said the captain, leading the way up' 
 the companion, "the least I can do is to send a couple 
 of my men along with you to help. Your fellows — 
 
 100 
 
 ,
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF FOUR SHILLINGS loi 
 
 you'll excuse me — don't look equal to it. Pensioners, 
 eh?" 
 
 The Commandant winced. " One of them," he 
 answered stiffly, "is on the active list. His strength 
 would surprise you, sir." 
 
 " H'm ! " said the captain, with a glance at Sergeant 
 Archelaus. 
 
 " The other But where is Tregaskis ? " 
 
 " Gone off, sir, to do business with the steward," 
 explained Archelaus, saluting. 
 
 "The other is a Mr. Tregaskis, a respectable man, 
 and our principal tradesman in Garland Town. He has 
 a design, I believe, to sell you whatever you may want 
 in the way of milk, butter, eggs, fish, or fresh pro- 
 visions." 
 
 " Certainly. The steward can go ashore and do 
 business with him, and his boat will bring the others 
 back. Here — Hoskings ! Arnott ! " Captain Whitaker 
 called to a couple of seamen. 
 
 Five minutes later the Commandant found himself 
 back in his boat, seated beside the Milds steward, and 
 confronting a tall pile of luggage. The two seamen 
 had already put off with Mr. Tregaskis in the steward's 
 boat, and were pulling for the quay. 
 
 " And you will present my duty to Madame ? " said 
 Madame's maid, looking down from the ship's side. 
 " And tell her that I charge myself to see the rest of 
 her luggage safe to the hotel, where I will report myself 
 and wait for Madame's orders." 
 
 Captain Whitaker waved good-bye. Archelaus 
 pushed off and fell to the oars. The Commandant 
 took the tiller lines. As the boat pointed for shore the 
 Garrison bell on the hill rang out nine o'clock. 
 
 Nine o'clock ! The notes uf the bell struck appre-
 
 I02 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 hension upon the Commandant's heart. His guest 
 would certainly be awake by this time, and as certainly 
 hungry. To be sure, she could not attire herself until 
 her boxes arrived — at any rate, would not appear. And 
 yet, with such a strong-willed person, he could not be 
 certain. A lady capable of landing on a foggy night in 
 an evening gown and diamonds, and of walking up 
 the street of St. Hugh's in shoes of rose-coloured satin, 
 might well be capable of descending to breakfast in 
 those garments. 
 
 To breakfast ! As yet that breakfast had to be 
 bought, and on credit ! 
 
 He wished now that he had offered to convey Mr. 
 Tregaskis back in his own boat. He might (he told 
 himself) have broached his proposition on the way, in 
 a low voice that Archelaus might not overhear. 
 Archelaus was slightly deaf. 
 
 The Milds steward, affably inclined, let fall a remark 
 or two upon the Islands. He opined that they were 
 quaint. The poor man meant well, but was a person 
 slightly above his station, and clipped his words. This 
 gave him a patronising tone, which the Commandant, 
 in his impatience, found offensive. He answered in curt 
 monosyllables, which in turn caused the steward to 
 mistake him for a stand-offish gentleman, very much 
 upon his dignity. 
 
 Next the Commandant, who seldom noticed such 
 things — too seldom, Vashti would have told him — 
 became painfully aware that in comparison with this 
 resplendent steward he cut a very shabby figure indeed. 
 The morning sunlight, which drew sparkles from the 
 brass-buttoned suit and brass-bound cap beside him, 
 exposed pitilessly the threadbare woof of his own 
 uniform coat. Yesterday there had been nothing amiss
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF FOUR SHILLINGS 103 
 
 with the coat ; nothing to observe, at least And, 
 
 " Confound the fellow ! " thought the Commandant, 
 "how am I to get rid of him and have a word with 
 Tregaskis ? " 
 
 For desperate ills, desperate remedies. Here he was, 
 at ten minutes past nine o'clock, and — to put it baldly, 
 and let Tragedy take care of herself — Vashti had not 
 breakfasted. So, drawing alongside the quay, where 
 Mr. Tregaskis and the two seamen had landed and 
 stood waiting, the Commandant called up in his best 
 service voice, concealing the shake in it — 
 
 " Mr. Tregaskis ! " 
 
 "Sir?" 
 
 " I desire a word with you." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " And in private," went on the Commandant heroic- 
 ally, stepping ashore and marching straight up the 
 steps. 
 
 " Certainly, sir." Mr. Tregaskis turned obediently 
 and led the way to his shop door at the corner of the 
 hill, thence through the shop, and to the threshold of a 
 dark parlour behind it, into which he was passing when 
 the Commandant's voice brought him to a stand. 
 
 " We will talk here, if you please," said the Com- 
 mandant. 
 
 " Certainly, sir." Mr. Tregaskis turned about. 
 
 " I want," said the Commandant, " half a pound of 
 your best tea, half a dozen new-laid eggs, an amount of 
 bacon which I leave to you, and a pot of marmalade." 
 
 " With pleasure, sir. Anything I can do " 
 
 " And on credit." 
 
 " As I said, sir — to be sure — and hoping that I have 
 
 given satisfaction hitherto " Mr. Tregaskis, a trifle 
 
 flurried by the Commandant's manner, fell to rubbing
 
 I04 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 his hands together, thus producing an appearance of 
 haste before he actually collected himself and hurried 
 to execute the order. 
 
 " Good God ! " thought the Commandant to himself 
 "Ami browbeating this man ? " 
 
 He watched while Mr. Tregaskis cut and weighed out 
 the butter and bacon and tied them up into parcels, with 
 the help of a small boy summoned from the back 
 premises ; or rather, to be accurate, the small boy (Melk 
 by name, which was short for Melchisedek) did the 
 weighing and tying while Mr. Tregaskis stood over him 
 and exhorted him to look sharp, or he'd never make 
 a grocer. The steward watched from the doorway, 
 puffing a cigarette, and expressed a hope that he was 
 not excluding the light. The Commandant wished 
 him a thousand miles away. Sergeant Archelaus had 
 borrowed a light trolley from the quay ; the two 
 seamen had loaded it ; and already Madame's luggage 
 was half-way up the hill, and must infallibly reach the 
 barracks before Madame's breakfast could overtake it. 
 
 " And when would you like it sent, sir ? " asked Mr. 
 Tregaskis, nodding at the piles on the counter. 
 
 "Sent?" echoed the Commandant. "I beg your 
 pardon," he went on hastily. " 1 had meant to ask you 
 for the loan of a basket. I will carry the things my- 
 self." 
 
 " Indeed, sir?" Mr. Tregaskis hesitated. " You are 
 welcome to a basket, of course, if you think it wise." 
 
 " I am not ashamed to be seen carrying a basket, 
 Mr. Tregaskis." 
 
 " No, indeed, sir ! But the hill being steep — and a 
 little exercise would do Melk, here, all the good in the 
 world." 
 
 " I prefer to carry the goods myself, I thank you."
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF FOUR SHILLINGS 105 
 
 (Was everybody in a conspiracy to take the Com- 
 mandant for a very old man ?) 
 
 He waited impatiently until the basket was filled, 
 slung it on his arm, and hurried out of the shop with 
 such impetuosity that the steward, still lounging in the 
 doorway, had scarcely time to skip into the roadway 
 and give passage. 
 
 " They must be going in for some kind of feast, up 
 to barracks," said the boy Melk meditatively, after a 
 pause. 
 
 "Why?" asked Mr. Tregaskis, looking up from the 
 counter and across the steward's shoulder. 
 
 " Because," said the boy, " old Mother Treacher was 
 here, not ten minutes ago, and the way she spent her 
 money was a caution. There's the best part of four 
 shillin' in the till, if only you'll look." 
 
 " What did she buy ? " 
 
 " Eggs mostly — and bacon — and marmalade." 
 
 Mr. Tregaskis walked to his shop door, and stared up 
 the hill after the Commandant. 
 
 " Must be going off their heads," he decided, and 
 shook his own doubtfully. " It can't be a merrymakin' 
 either; for, when you come to think of it, folks don't 
 feast off such things as streaky bacon." 
 
 " Not off this sort, any'ow," airily agreed the steward, 
 who had been examining a piece on the counter. 
 
 The Commandant had started fiercely enough to 
 climb the hill, but by the time he reached the bend of 
 the hill, where stood the cottage which had been Vashti's 
 home, he was drawing difficult breath. Indeed, he was 
 on the point of setting down his load and resting when, 
 as he turned the corner, he came full upon Mrs. 
 Bampfield, the good wife of the present occupier, in con-
 
 io6 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 versation with Mrs. Medlin, her neighbour across the 
 road. The two women stood staring up the hill, each 
 from her doorway, but at the sound of the Com- 
 mandant's footsteps they turned and stared at him 
 instead : whereat he blushed and hung on his heel for 
 a moment before charging through the cross-fire of 
 gossip. 
 
 " Good-morning, ladies ! " 
 
 "Aw, good-morning to you, sir," answered Mrs. 
 Bampfield with a curtsey, and gazed hard at his basket. 
 " Nothing wrong up to the Garrison, I hope ? " 
 
 " So far as I know, ma'am, nothing at all." 
 
 " Seein' that great stack of luggage go up the hill," 
 explained Mrs. Medlin, " why naturally it made a person 
 anxious. And when you asks a civil question, as I did 
 of Sergeant Archelaus, and he turns round and as good 
 as snaps your head off, why a person can't help putting 
 two and two together." 
 
 " Indeed, ma'am, and what did you make the result? " 
 asked the Commandant politely. 
 
 " Why, sir, Mrs. Bampfield here was reckoning that the 
 Government had sent stores for you at last ; and says I, 
 ' You may be right, Sarah, and glad enough we shall 
 all be to hear of it, for it do make my heart bleed to 
 remember old days and see what the Garrison is 
 reduced to in vittles and small-clothes. But,' says I, 
 ' the luggage comes from the great steamship, and the 
 great steamship comes from America, and that Govern- 
 ment would be sending stores from America, even in 
 these days of tinned meats, is what, beggin' your 
 pardon, no person could believe that wasn't born a 
 fool.'" 
 
 "Which I answers to Mrs. Medlin," said Mrs. 
 Bampfield, " ' Granted, ma'am,' I says, ' but, food or no
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF FOUR SHILLINGS 107 
 
 food, I'd sooner swallow it than believe what you were 
 tellin' just now.'" 
 
 " And what was that ? " asked the Commandant, 
 turning on Mrs. Medlin. 
 
 "Why, sir, knowing the Lord Proprietor to be no 
 friend of yours " 
 
 " Hush, Mrs. Medlin— hush, if you please ! " 
 
 " Of course, sir, if you don't want to hear- 
 
 " I certainly cannot listen to any talk against Sir 
 Caesar. It would be exceedingly improper." 
 
 " I warn' going to say anything improper," Mrs. 
 Medlin protested stoutly. " And I wonder, sir, at your 
 thinking it, after the years you've given good-day 
 to me." 
 
 " Why, bless the woman ! " interjected Mrs. Bampfield, 
 "you might talk as improper as you pleased and the 
 Governor wouldn't understand your drift — he's that 
 innocent-minded. But what she meant, sir, was that 
 the Lord Proprietor had turned you out, belike — as 
 everyone knows he has a mind to — and that a new 
 Governor might be coming in your place." 
 
 The Commandant flushed. " My dear Mrs. Bampfield 
 — you'll excuse me — but the Lord Proprietor has 
 nothing to do with the military command here, either 
 to appoint or to dismiss. I cannot forbid your gossip- 
 ing; but it may help you to know that every soldier 
 on the Islands holds his post directly under the Crown." 
 
 Mrs. Bampfield gazed at the basket with the air of one 
 who, seeming to yield, yet abides by her convictions. 
 " The Crown's a long way off, seemin' to me," she 
 objected ; " though, to be sure, I can't contradict you, 
 sir. No doubt 'tis as you say : only I never see'd the 
 Crown nor had speech with it : and contrariwise I do 
 know that when the Lord Proprietor wants his way on
 
 io8 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 the Islands, he gets it. Though it were ten times a 
 week, he'd get it, and no one nowadays strong enough 
 to stand up to him." 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Bampfield ! " 
 
 But Mrs. Bampfield was not to be checked. " He's a 
 tyrant," she declared, her voice rising shrilly ; " and I'd 
 say it a hundred times, though I went to the lock-up for 
 it. He's a tyrant : and you, sir, are too simple-minded 
 to cope with 'em. Yes, yes — ' a Christian gentleman ' 
 — everyone grants it of you and, saving your presence, 
 everyone is sorry enough for it. You wouldn't hurt 
 a fly, for your part. Man, woman, or child, you'd have 
 every soul in the Islands to live neighbourly and go 
 their ways in peace. No doubt 'tis good Gospel teach- 
 ing, too, and well enough it worked till this rumping 
 little tyrant came along and pushed you aside. Good- 
 ness comes easy to you, sir, I reckon. But it bears hard 
 upon poor folk that want someone to stand up for 
 'em against injustice." 
 
 " The Lord Proprietor, Mrs. Bampfield, has a strong 
 will of his own ; but I certainly never heard that he was 
 
 unjust " The Commandant paused and hesitated. 
 
 " Except to me," he might have added, but did not. 
 
 " Then you haven't heard, sir, what's happening over 
 on Saaron ? " 
 
 " On Saaron, ma'am ? " 
 
 " On Saaron, sir. . . . Eh ? No, to be sure ! Folks 
 may suffer on the Islands in these days, but what use to 
 tell the Governor? He was good to us in his time, but 
 now he has cut himself off from us with his own 
 troubles, . . . Did anyone tell you, sir, the text that 
 old Seth Hicks preached from, over to St. Anne's, at 
 the last service before the Lord Proprietor closed the 
 Meeting House ? ' I will lift up mine eyes,' said he, ' to
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF FOUR SHILLINGS 109 
 
 the hills, from whence cometh my help,' and then, 
 having given it out, the old fellow turned solemn-like 
 t'ards the window that looks across here to Garrison 
 Hill. * Amen,' said some person in the congregation ; ' but 
 'tis no use, brother Seth, your seeking in that quarter.' " 
 
 The Commandant, who had set down his basket, 
 lifted it again wearily. " Mrs. Bampfield," said he, " won't 
 you at least put it down to my credit that, having (as 
 you say) my own troubles, I don't bother my neigh- 
 bours with them ? " 
 
 " Why, bless your heart, sir — that ever I should say it 
 — that's what hurts us sorest ! We can fit and fend 
 along somehow, never you mind ; but when for years 
 you shared our little triblylations and taught us, 
 forriner tho' you were, to be open with 'ee as daylight, 
 it do seem cruel that you can't enjoy a bit of trouble 
 on your own account but you must take it away and 
 hide it." 
 
 The Commandant's eyes moistened suddenly. " Is 
 that how the Islanders look at it, Mrs. Bampfield?" 
 
 " It is, sir." 
 
 " Well, well," said the Major. " I never guessed. . . . 
 I am a blind old fool, it seems. But " — and here, blinking 
 away the moisture, he smiled at Mrs. Bampfield almost 
 gaily — " I can begin at once to make amends. The 
 luggage that went up the hill, just now, belongs to — 
 to a friend of mine ; a visitor who will be my guest for 
 a short while at the barracks. And this " — he tapped 
 the basket — "is for my friend's breakfast. In exchange 
 for this information you shall tell me now what is the 
 matter over at Saaron." 
 
 " The matter is, the Lord Proprietor has given the 
 Tregarthens notice." 
 
 The Commandant's eyes grew round in his head as
 
 no MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 he stared at Mrs. Bampfield, who answered by nodding 
 her head briskly, as though each nod were the tap of a 
 hammer driving home a nail. 
 
 "What ? Eli Tregarthen — that married Cara's younger 
 
 daughter — that used to live " The Commandant's 
 
 gaze wandered past Mrs. Bampfield to the blue-painted 
 doorway behind her. 
 
 " It don't matter, that I can see, where the woman 
 used to live," said Mrs. Bampfield ; " but it do matter to 
 my mind that a Tregarthen has farmed Saaron for six 
 generations, and now 'tis ' pack and go ' for 'em." 
 
 " But why? " (Here was news indeed for Vashti.) 
 
 " Why ? " echoed Mrs. Bampfield fiercely. " Because, 
 as you was tellin' just now, sir, my lord has a strong 
 will. Because my lord wants Saaron for his own. 
 Because he wants to shoot rabbits. Because rabbits 
 be of more account to him than men — and I don't 
 blame him for it, seein' that all the men on the Islands 
 be turned to mice in these days. Oh, 'tis an old tale ! 
 But there ! You never heard of it. Not you ! " 
 
 " But, my dear Mrs. Bampfield " 
 
 " Go'st thy ways, good Governor. You was the poor 
 man's friend — one time ; but now there's too much 
 Christianity in you. And no more will I answer until 
 you tells me who your guest is, that eats two break- 
 fasts in one morning." 
 
 The Commandant gazed at her in mild surprise. 
 Doubtless he would have asked the meaning of this 
 cryptic utterance ; but at this moment the two seamen 
 from the Milo issued forth from the gateway up the 
 road ; and, descending a few paces, turned to call 
 back farewell to Mrs. Treacher, who, having escorted 
 them so far, halted under the arch and stood with hands 
 on hips to watch them out of sight.
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF FOUR SHILLINGS in 
 
 " Wish 'ee well, I'm sure ! " said Mrs. Treacher. " You 
 understand we be poor people in these parts." 
 
 " Don't mention that, ma'am," said one of the seamen 
 politely. 
 
 "There's no talk of favours, as between us and 
 Madame," called out the other. 
 
 They passed the Commandant and saluted. On a 
 sudden it struck him that these men would expect a 
 small monetary acknowledgment for their trouble; 
 and hastily nodding good-morning to Mrs. Bampfield 
 and Mrs. Medlin, he ran staggering up the slope to the 
 gateway. 
 
 " Mrs. Treacher 1 " he panted, dumping down his 
 burden, " I — er — it so happens that I have no small 
 change about me." 
 
 "Me either," said Mrs. Treacher idiomatically, and 
 bent over the basket. " What's this ? " 
 
 " You will forgive my mentioning it, Mrs. Treacher ; 
 but these good fellows very likely expected a sixpence 
 or so for their trouble. If you wouldn't mind lending 
 me back — for a short time only, a couple of shillings 
 out of the four that — that I " 
 
 "Very sorry, sir," said Mrs. Treacher, "but I spent 
 'em." 
 
 " What ! Already ? " 
 
 " Which I didn't like," pursued Mrs. Treacher stonily, 
 " to insult the lady's stomach with the kind of eatables 
 I found in the larder. So while you was away, sir, I 
 took the liberty to slip down to Tregaskis's and lay 
 out three-and-six. Which, finding no one in charge 
 but that half-baked boy of his, I got good value for the 
 money ; and a sight better bacon than this, I don't 
 mind saying — for all you have been so lavish." 
 
 She peered into the basket and looked up sharply.
 
 112 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 It was a cross-examining look, and seemed to ask 
 where he had found the money for all this extravagance. 
 The Commandant, evading it, turned and stared down 
 the road, where already the two seamen had passed out 
 of sight. 
 
 "You needn't mind them, sir," said Mrs. Treacher 
 reassuringly. " It's light come and light go with 
 sailors." 
 
 Nevertheless, when the Commandant turned to accept 
 the assurance, half eagerly and yet less than half con- 
 vinced, she would not meet his eye; but picked up 
 the basket and tottered along with it to the barrack 
 door. " There's a saying," said Mrs. Treacher eagerly, 
 halting there, "that sufficient for the day is the evil 
 thereof. I've found it comforting before now. But it 
 don't seem to allow for three meals per diem ; and how 
 to make bacon and eggs for dinner look different from 
 bacon and eggs for breakfast is a question that'll take 
 thought. You didn't happen to think upon cheese, 
 now ? " 
 
 " I did," said the Commandant triumphantly. 
 " There's half a pound of cheese — the very best 
 Cheddar — or, so Tregaskis assured me." 
 
 " Tregaskis ! " Mrs. Treacher put down her nose and 
 sniffed the basket. " Tregaskis never sold better than 
 third-class American in all his life." 
 
 " She comes from America," the Commandant 
 hazarded. 
 
 " I shouldn't advise you to build on that," said Mrs, 
 Treacher dubiously ; " but we'll hope for the best ; and 
 with beer in the place of tea it mayn't look altogether 
 like breakfast over again." 
 
 He was stepping into the passage when she touched 
 his sleeve in sudden contrition.
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF FOUR SHILLINGS 113 
 
 " I didn't mention it before, sir ; but hearing as the 
 sailors had brought up her boxes, she outs with this 
 and asks me to give it to them for their trouble." 
 
 Mrs. Treacher held out a golden sovereign. The 
 Commandant stared at it. 
 
 " You kept it back ? " he gasped. 
 
 " I had to, sir. A couple of ignorant seamen — that 
 didn't want it, either ! " 
 
 " Give it to me ! " 
 
 " There's one blessing. You can't possibly overtake 
 'em," said Mrs. Treacher, as the Commandant snatched 
 the coin. 
 
 He gazed down the hill, and decided that to this 
 extent she was right. With one hand gripping the 
 sovereign, and the other lifted to his distraught brow, 
 the Commandant strode to the room where Vashti sat 
 at breakfast. She looked up composedly, and welcomed 
 him with a gay smile.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 PLAN OF CAMPAIGN 
 
 VASHTI sat on the low stone wall beyond the 
 Keg of Butter Battery and gazed out over 
 the twinkling Sound and the Islands. The wall ran 
 along the edge of the cliff and, moreover, was ruinous, 
 as the Commandant had cautioned her when she chose 
 her perch. 
 
 For a while she did not appear to have heard him, 
 but sat with lips half parted as though they drank in 
 their native air, and with eyes half closed — but whether 
 in mere delight or because through the present they 
 were looking into the past, the Commandant could not 
 determine. She had invited him after breakfast to 
 conduct her round the old fortifications, and he had 
 done so in some dread of her questions and comments. 
 But she had asked scarcely a question and made no 
 comment at all. She was thinking less of the change 
 in his batteries and defences than of the change in 
 him, as with a deeper knowledge of women he might 
 have divined. In the inanimate work of man's hands 
 ■ woman takes no real interest, whatever she may feign, 
 but of man himself she is insatiably curious and critical. 
 So while the Commandant, moving with her from one 
 battery to another, had halted and stared down on the 
 grass-grown platforms, ashamed and half afraid lest by 
 lifting his eyes he should challenge her pity, he missed 
 
 114
 
 PLAN OF CAMPAIGN 115 
 
 to perceive and missed altogether to guess that hers 
 were occupied in taking note of him, of his thread- 
 bare coat, of the stoop of his shoulders, of the whitened 
 hair brushed back from his temples. 
 
 They had made the round of the batteries in almost 
 complete silence; and coming to the wall above the 
 Keg of Butter she had perched herself there and bent 
 her eyes seaward. 
 
 She may or may not have been aware that this gave 
 him opportunity to take stock of her in his turn ; and 
 that he was using it very deliberately, letting his gaze 
 travel over her profile, or so much of it as she pre- 
 sented to him, and so from point to point of her attire 
 down to her well-made walking shoes — all with a kind 
 of grave wonder. Once only he glanced up and to the 
 north-east, where low on the horizon a faint line of 
 smoke lingered in the wake of the Milo already hull- 
 down on her way ; and his glance seemed to ask for 
 assurance that he was not dreaming, that the steamship 
 had really come and gone and left him this unaccount- 
 able guest. 
 
 It was just at this moment that she answered 
 him. 
 
 " Yes, I can easily understand that you feel it." 
 
 "Eh?" The Commandant had almost forgotten his 
 warning about the ruinous state of the wall. His eyes 
 had wandered back from the horizon to the close coils 
 of hair above her neck. She turned, and as she caught 
 his gaze he blushed in no little confusion. 
 
 With the point of her sunshade she indicated the 
 deserted battery on his left. 
 
 " Though I suppose," she went on, still musing, " all 
 these fortifications were really out of date for years 
 before Government dismantled them."
 
 ii6 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " If that were true," he replied, " it would date my 
 uselessness further back than ever." 
 
 " Your uselessness ? " she echoed, and now it was her 
 eyes that expressed a grave wonder. " But you were 
 Governor of the Islands. You are Governor still, are 
 you not ? " 
 
 " In name," he allowed ; and, with that, went on 
 hastily — " But you are mistaken. These batteries, 
 though antiquated, were never out of date, never use- 
 less; and there will be reason enough to regret them 
 if ever an enemy's squadron makes a pounce on the 
 Islands." 
 
 " Poor little Islands ! " Vashti looked across the 
 Sound with a smile. " It seems almost comic that 
 anyone should dream of attacking them ! " 
 
 " Ah ! " said he. " You have been living in great cities 
 and enlarging your mind." 
 
 " And in great cities, you imply, it is easy to despise, 
 to forget ? " She laughed softly. " Brefar — Saaron — 
 Iniscaw!" she murmured, addressing the Islands by 
 name. " Here is one who tells me I forget you. Sir, 
 we will take a boat this very day, and I will sail you 
 out to the Off-Islands and prove to you if I forget." 
 
 " There is no need, Miss Vashti " — he hesitated over 
 the " Miss," but she did not correct him, and he went on 
 more boldly. " I had a talk this morning with Captain 
 Whitaker, of the Mihr 
 
 Vashti looked up with a quick smile. " He told you ? 
 ... I am so glad ! Yes, yes. I did not in the least 
 want to have all those passengers crowding around me 
 and paying me ridiculous compliments. But false 
 modesty is another thing altogether, and I don't 
 mind telling you I am quite inordinately proud of 
 myself." 
 
 I
 
 PLAN OF CAMPAIGN 117 
 
 " You have a right to be." 
 
 « — as I don't mind confessing that I was horribly 
 afraid at the time. But it was pretty good— eh ?— after 
 fifteen years." 
 
 She asked it frankly; not archly at all, but with a 
 sudden earnest look that seemed to hold some sadness. 
 
 " Fifteen years ! " she went on. " We all have a 
 quarrel against time, we men and women, but on 
 grounds so different that a man scarcely understands 
 a woman's grievance, or a woman a man's. With you 
 it all rests in your work. Fifteen years knock holes 
 in your fortifications, tumble your guns into the sea, 
 send along a new generation of men to pull down 
 what you have built. And at this you mourn while 
 we women look on and wonder. Why all this fuss, 
 we ask, over what you do? Why all this hopeful, 
 hopeless craving to leave something permanent ? The 
 Islands, here, will outlast anything you can build. I 
 come back after fifteen years, and they are unchanged ; 
 they would be unchanged were I to come back after a 
 hundred. The same rocks, the same beaches, the same 
 hum of the tides ; the same flowers ; the same blue water 
 here below us ; the same outline of a spear-head there, 
 beyond St. Anne's, where the tide forces its way 
 through the slack water; the same streak of yellow 
 yonder on the south cliffs of Saaron. . . . Our griev- 
 ance is more personal, more real : and so should yours 
 be, if you could only see it. It is to ourselves — to you 
 and me, to any man and woman — that time makes the 
 difference. You worry over your fortifications. Why ? 
 It is in ourselves that the tragedy lies. To lose our 
 
 looks, our voice — to grow old and mumble " She 
 
 broke off with a shiver. 
 
 The Commandant smiled sadly. He had too much
 
 ii8 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 sense to pay an idle compliment. "If that be the 
 tragedy, Miss Vashti," said he, "then we men are 
 wise in our folly, which bids us rest our hopes in 
 our work though its permanence be all an illusion. 
 We cannot cheat ourselves with a tale that we shall 
 not grow old, but we are able to believe, however vainly, 
 that our work will live." 
 
 "Yes," she admitted, "you are wise in your vanity — 
 or would be, if it were wisdom to shut one's eyes to 
 fate. Let us grant that men are happier than women 
 — than childless women at any rate. You do not 
 know what it is to be a singer, for instance ; to wake 
 up each morning to a fear ' Has my voice gone ? One 
 of these days it will certainly go, but — Lord, not yet ! ' 
 We must build on what we have. We must cling to 
 our youth, knowing that after our youth comes dark- 
 ness. No, sir, I do not blame men for setting up their 
 rest upon what they do rather than upon themselves ; 
 but for setting it upon that part of their work which, 
 being the more visible, the more visibly decays." 
 
 The Commandant pondered while his eyes studied 
 the grass-grown platform. He shook his head. " You 
 puzzle me," he confessed. 
 
 " Why, sir, you have been mooning around these 
 fortifications quite as though they had made up your 
 life and their ruins stood for your broken purposes ; 
 whereas for fifteen years you have been Governor of 
 the Islands and my sister tells me you are a good 
 man. Surely, then, your real life has lain in the 
 justice you have done, the wrongs you have righted, 
 the trust you have built up in the people's hearts, 
 and not in these decaying walls which no enemy ever 
 threatened in your time nor for a hundred years before 
 you came."
 
 PLAN OF CAMPAIGN 119 
 
 But again the Commandant shook his head. 
 
 " I say nothing of the first few years," he answered 
 slowly. " I liked the people and I tried to do 
 justice. But all that has passed out of my control. 
 The Lord Proprietor takes everything into his own 
 hands." 
 
 " Still, on the Council " she urged. 
 
 " I am no longer a member of the Council." 
 
 " You resigned ? Why ? " 
 
 " Because I saw that Sir Caesar was bent on humiliat- 
 ing me ; and he had the power." 
 
 Vashti prised at a loose stone from the wall with 
 the point of her sunshade, 
 
 " I have read somewhere," she said, after a pause, 
 "that no wise man should avoid being a magistrate, 
 because it is wrong to refuse help to those who need it, 
 and equally wrong to stand aside and let worse men 
 govern ill." 
 
 " The Lord Proprietor does not govern ill. He likes 
 his own way ; but he is a just man " The Com- 
 mandant hesitated and paused. 
 
 " — A just man until you happen to thwart him. Is 
 that what you were going to say ? " 
 
 " No," he answered, smiling. " I was about to say 
 that once or twice I have found him something less 
 
 than fair to me. To others " But here he paused 
 
 again, remembering that morning's conversation on the 
 hill. 
 
 " I do not much believe," persisted Vashti, " in men 
 who act justly so long as they are not thwarted. But 
 you would remind me no doubt that, if questions are 
 to be asked and answered this morning, it is I who 
 should be giving an account of myself. Well, then, I 
 have come to the Islands with a little plan of campaign
 
 120 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 in my mind, and last night it occurred to me suddenly 
 that you were the very person to help. I am — you 
 will excuse my telling you this, but it is necessary — 
 a passably rich woman ; that is to say, I have more 
 money than I want to spend on myself, after putting 
 by enough for a rainy day; and I can earn more 
 again if I want more. I have no 'encumbrances,' as 
 foolish people put it ; no relatives in the world but my 
 sister Ruth and her children. No two sisters ever loved 
 one another better than did Ruth and I. We lost our 
 mother early, when Ruth was just three years old, and 
 from then until she was a grown woman I had the 
 mothering of her, being by five years the elder. You 
 have seen something like it, I daresay, in other poor 
 families where the mother has been taken ; but I tell 
 you again that never were pair more absolutely wrapped 
 up in one another than were Ruth and I. We shared 
 each other's thoughts by day, we slept together and 
 shared each other's dreams. Oh ! " — Vashti clasped 
 her hands and looked up with brimming eyes — " I can 
 see now how beautiful it all was ! " 
 
 The Commandant bowed his head gravely. " I can 
 believe it," he said ; and as if he had stepped back fifteen 
 years he found himself standing again on the hill and 
 looking in upon the fire-lit room ; only now the picture 
 and the two figures in it shone with divine meaning. 
 
 " I know what you would ask," she went on. " Why, 
 then, you would ask, did I ever leave the Islands ? . . . 
 But this had always been understood between us. I 
 cannot tell you how. For years we never talked about 
 it ; yet we always talked as if, some day, it must 
 happen. The fate was on us to be separated ; and the 
 strange part of it was," continued Vashti, throwing out 
 her hands involuntarily, and with this action changing
 
 PLAN OF CAMPAIGN 121 
 
 as it were from a confident woman back to a child 
 helpless before its destiny, "we understood from the 
 first that I, who loved the Islands, must be the one 
 to go, while Ruth would find a husband here and settle 
 down, nor perhaps ever wish to cross over to the main- 
 land. You see, of the two I was the reader ; and some- 
 times when I read Shakespeare to her — for we possessed 
 but a few books, and some of these, like The Pilgrims 
 Progress^ had no real scenery in them, to take hold of 
 — sometimes when I read Shakespeare, or The Arabian 
 Nights, or Mungo Park's Travels, and the real world 
 would open to me, with cities like London, or Venice, 
 or Bagdad, and with woods like the Forest of Arden, 
 and ports with shipping and great empty deserts, then 
 Ruth would catch hold and cling to me, as if I were 
 slipping away and leaving her before the time. Yet 
 we both knew that the time must come, in the end. 
 Do you understand ? " she broke off to ask. 
 
 " Yes," he answered. " I cannot tell how ; but as you 
 put it, I seem to see it all." 
 
 She glanced at him with a quick, grateful smile 
 before continuing. " Well, that is just how it happened, 
 and if I were to explain and explain I couldn't make 
 it any clearer. You understand, too, there was never 
 any question of my leaving Ruth until she was grown 
 a woman and could see with a woman's eyes. Then 
 I knew she was safe. She had more common-sense 
 than I. She was born to marry — I never doubted 
 that; but when I saw also that she was a woman to 
 choose for herself and to choose wisely — why, then I 
 saw also, and all of a sudden, that the time had come 
 and I was better out of the way ; better, because a 
 teacher has to know when to stop and trust the teaching 
 to prove itself. Else, by lingering on, he may easily
 
 122 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 do dreadful mischief, and all with the best will in the 
 world. Do you understand this, too ? " 
 
 Again the Commandant bent his head ; for again, 
 without knowing how or why, he understood. 
 
 " Well, I left the Islands, and there is no need to 
 trouble you with my own story — though some day I 
 will tell it if you care to hear. It contains a great 
 deal of hard work, much good fortune, some suffering, 
 too ; and on the whole I am a very grateful 
 woman, as I ought to be. But we were talking 
 of Ruth. She married, as she was born to marry ; 
 and, as I daresay you know, her husband is a good 
 man. She has children, and her letters are full of 
 their sayings and doings as a happy mother's should 
 be. So, you see, our instinct was wise, and I did well 
 to depart." 
 
 The Commandant considered this for a moment 
 before answering: for her tone conveyed a question, 
 almost a challenge. 
 
 " You were wise, perhaps, to go. But why in all 
 these years have you never come back ? " 
 
 She looked at him earnestly, and nodded. " Yes," 
 she said, " I was afraid you would ask that ; and yet 
 I am glad, for it forces me to make confession, and I 
 shall feci better to get it over. . . . Ruth loves me still, 
 you see ; but, of course, her husband comes first, and 
 after her husband — if not sometimes before him — her 
 children. That is as it should be, of course." 
 
 " Of course," the Commandant echoed. 
 
 " And of course I foresaw it. Remember, please, that 
 I foresaw it before ever there was question of Eli 
 Tregarthen ; so that my jealousy, if you are going to 
 laugh at it, had nothing to do " 
 
 " I am not in the least inclined to laugh."
 
 PLAN OF CAMPAIGN 123 
 
 " Thank you. We were not as ordinary sisters, you 
 see, and . . . and there is another thing I must tell you," 
 she went on with a brisk change of tone. "Though 
 Ruth and I have always written regularly, there is one 
 thing I have always kept hidden from her — I mean 
 my success, as you will call it. At first this wasn't 
 deliberate at all. ... A great chance came to me, a 
 chance so good that I could hardly believe; yes, so 
 incredible even to me, that I dared not talk of it, but 
 walked humbly, and taught myself to think of it as a 
 dream only from which I must awake, and awake to 
 find people laughing at my hopes. I hid it even from 
 Ruth. . . . Afterwards, when the dream had become 
 a certainty, it seemed yet harder to tell her. I had 
 concealed so much, and to tell her now seemed like 
 triumphing — so full her letters were of simple things 
 and of her happiness in them. I was afraid my news 
 would overawe her, would change her in some way ; 
 that she would think me some grand person, and not 
 the sister to whom she had told all her mind. — Not, 
 you must understand, that Ruth could be envious if she 
 tried : but have you never seen how, when a man grows 
 rich or powerful suddenly, his old friends, the best of 
 them, draw away from him, not in envy at all, but 
 just because they feel he has been taken from them ? " 
 
 " Yes," said the Commandant, " I have seen such 
 cases." 
 
 " And I wanted still to be Vazzy to her — even though 
 I must come after husband and children." 
 
 " She knows, then, as little about your — your success 
 — or almost as little, as I do?" asked the Commandant 
 quaintly. 
 
 Vashti broke into a gay little laugh. "But I am 
 going to tell her now," she answered, rising ; " and that
 
 124 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 is where I want you to help me. She has no idea at 
 all that I am here, and I want — that is my little plan — 
 to look in upon her before I make myself known. I 
 want to see Ruth — my own Ruth — moving about her 
 house, to feed my eyes on her good face, and learn if 
 it has changed as I have tried to picture it changing ; 
 to know her as she has been during these years, not as 
 she will be when we have kissed and I have told her, 
 I would steal upon her children, too, and watch them. 
 ... It is wonderful to think of Ruth's children ! " 
 
 She sprang on to the crumbling wall, and stood erect 
 there, shading her eyes, gazing towards Saaron Island, 
 where the forenoon sun flashed upon the beaches and 
 upon the roof of one small farmstead, half hidden in a 
 fold of the hills. The Commandant put out a hand to 
 steady her, for her perch was rickety and almost over- 
 hung the sea. 
 
 " Ruth is there ! ... To think of her so happy there 
 — to see her, almost ! Oh, sir — but if you could under- 
 stand that the nearer I have travelled back, the more 
 foolish my jealousy has seemed to grow with every fear, 
 every doubt ! " 
 
 " Miss Vashti " — the Commandant spoke seriously, 
 still with his arm stretched out ready to grip her by 
 the skirt if she should over-balance herself or the 
 treacherous wall give way — " I am glad, for your sister's 
 sake, you have come ; but I must warn you that all is 
 not right on Saaron Island." 
 
 She turned slowly, and looked down upon him there 
 from her altitude. 
 
 " What is not right ? " she asked ; and, while he 
 hesitated, " You are not telling me that her letters have 
 hidden anything ? " 
 
 " No."
 
 PLAN OF CAMPAIGN 125 
 
 " Is it illness, then ? Has anything happened to the 
 children ? " 
 
 " No," he answered again, and without more ado 
 he told her the news he had heard from Mrs. Bampfield. 
 
 "But" — she still looked down on him, wondering — 
 " but you told me just now that the Lord Proprietor 
 was a just man?" 
 
 " I have not looked at the rights and wrongs of the 
 case," he said hastily, conscious that he was incurring 
 her scorn. " The Lord Proprietor may have much to 
 say on his side." 
 
 " You have not inquired, then ? " 
 
 " The news came to me only this morning, quite by 
 chance." 
 
 " By chance ? " she caught him up, and, springing off 
 the wall, stood on the firm turf, facing him. " But you 
 are, or were. Governor of the Islands ? " 
 
 Again he bent his head. " I have told you that I 
 no longer serve on the Council even. The Lord Pro- 
 prietor does not consult me." 
 
 Vashti gazed around her, on the broken roof of the 
 ammunition shed.'the dismantled platform, the unkempt 
 glacis below it. "For what work, then, do they pay 
 you ? " she asked bitterly. 
 
 " For none," he answered, as bitterly, but without 
 resentment. "And — excuse me — " he went on, fum- 
 bling in his pocket, and producing a sovereign, which he 
 tendered to her, " but your mention of pay reminds me 
 to return you this, which Mrs. Treacher has handed to 
 me. It appears — I must apologise for her — that she 
 received it from you to give to the men who carried up 
 your luggage from the steamer ; but that, being a little 
 frightened at the amount, she withheld it, thinking that 
 possibly you had made a mistake."
 
 126 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Vashti took the coin. Her face was yet flushed a 
 little — as he read it, with anger. 
 
 "It is true," said she pensively, " that I am fifteen 
 years a stranger here." 
 
 His face brightened. " Ah," said he, " if you will 
 make allowance for that, we may yet put everything 
 right!"
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 SAARON ISLAND 
 
 S AARON ISLAND lies about due north of Brefar, 
 which looks eastward upon Iniscaw across the 
 narrow gut of Cromwell's Sound. There was a time 
 (the tale goes) when these three Islands made one. 
 At low-water springs you may cross afoot between 
 Saaron and Brefar, and from either of them, with a 
 little more danger, to Iniscaw, picking your way between 
 the pools and along the sandy flats that curve about 
 the southern end of the Sound and divide it from the 
 great roadstead. Also there are legends of stone walls 
 and foundations of houses laid bare from time to time 
 as the waters have receded after a gale, and by the next 
 tides covered again with sand. 
 
 But of the past history of Saaron next to nothing 
 could be told, even by Ruth's husband, Farmer Eli 
 Tregarthen, who rented the Island, and the one habitable 
 house upon it. He could not even have explained how 
 so bleak a spot as Saaron had come to possess this 
 farmhouse, which was one of the roomiest on the 
 Islands. He only knew that it had been built for one 
 of his forefathers, and that this forgotten Tregarthen, 
 or the Lord Proprietor who had chosen him for tenant, 
 must have held ambitious views of the amount of 
 farming possible on Saaron, So much might be guessed 
 from the size and extent of the out-buildings. The 
 
 127
 
 128 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " chall," or byre, for instance, had stalls for no less than 
 ten cows, whereas to-day all the Island's hundred-and- 
 twenty acres barely afforded pasturage for two. Con- 
 sidering this, he was divided between two opinions ; the 
 first, that his ancestors had pastured their cattle upon 
 Brefar, driving them to and fro across the flats at low 
 water ; the second, that in the old days the soil had 
 been fertile, and that either the sand, which drove across 
 it in the prevailing westerly winds, devastating every 
 green herb, had started its invasion within the last 
 hundred years or so, or that his forerunners had 
 possessed and lost some art of coping with it. He 
 had trenched the sand in many places on the southern 
 and easterly slopes of the two hills into which the 
 Island was divided, and along the valley between them, 
 and everywhere at the depth of two feet or less, the 
 spade found a fine, strong clay, capable of carrying any 
 crop. 
 
 In his slow way P^armer Eli Tregarthen pondered 
 a deal over this and similar problems. Indeed, you 
 might say that in one sense the Island was never out 
 of his thoughts. He had been born on it. At the age 
 of sixteen he had succeeded to the farm (though it was 
 nominally leased to his mother) and to the fight which 
 his father had begun ; the warfare which his enemy the 
 sand, itself untiring, never allowed him to relax. He 
 could almost remember his father resuming it and re- 
 pairing the stone hedges which enclosed the old fields. 
 -In those days Saaron had supported, or failed to 
 support, five families ; of whom all but Tregarthen had 
 lost their clutch on the barren rock and drifted away 
 to other islands. He could well remember their going. 
 He passed their roofless cottages daily, and half a dozen 
 times a day.
 
 S AARON ISLAND 129 
 
 They had subsisted mainly by kelp-making and a 
 little piloting, helped out (it is to be feared) by more 
 than a little smuggling. There were conclusions to be 
 drawn from the cellars in the farmhouse, too ample for 
 the needs of a small farmer. Tregarthen had a shrewd 
 notion that most of the guineas which his mother 
 hoarded in a stocking had come at one time or another 
 from the contraband trade ; also he had a notion that 
 his father's renewed activities in digging and hedging 
 must have coincided pretty accurately with the building 
 of the coastguard station upon St. Lide's and the arrival 
 of a Divisional Officer. But if smuggling had flourished 
 once, it was fallen on evil days, and its secrets had been 
 hidden from his childhood. Also about that time the 
 pilotage had decayed in competition with the licensed 
 pilots on St. Anne's, and but a few hovelling jobs in and 
 about Cromwell's Sound fell to the share of the men of 
 Saaron. (He could recall discussions and injurious 
 words, half-understood at the time, faint echoes of that 
 old quarrel between the two Islands.) 
 
 But throughout his childhood the kelp-making had 
 been in full swing; and the business had a plenty of 
 mystery and picturesqueness to bite it upon a child's 
 memory. All the summer through, day after day at 
 low water, the Islanders would be out upon the beaches 
 cutting the ore-weed, and, as the tide rose, would drag 
 it in sledges up the foreshore and strew it above high- 
 water mark, to dry in the sun. On sunny days they 
 scattered and turned it; on wet days they banked it 
 into heaps almost as tall as arrish-mows. From morning 
 until evening they laboured, and towards midsummer, 
 as the near beaches became denuded, would sail away 
 in twos and threes and whole families, to camp among 
 the Off-Islands and raid them ; until, when August came 
 9
 
 130 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 and the kelping season drew to an end, boat after 
 boat would arrive at high-water and discharge its 
 burden. 
 
 These operations filled the summer days ; but it was 
 at nightfall and a little earlier that the real fun began. 
 For then the men, women and children would gather and 
 build the kilns — pits scooped in the sand, measuring 
 about seven feet across and three feet deep in the 
 centre. While the men finished lining the sides of the 
 kiln with stones, the women and girls would leap into it 
 with armfuls of furze which they lighted and so, strewing 
 the dried ore-weed upon it, built little by little into a 
 blazing pile. The great sea-lights which ring the 
 Islands now make a brave show, and one which the 
 visitor carries away as the most enduring, most 
 characteristic, recollection of his sojourn ; but (say the 
 older inhabitants) it will not compare with the illumina- 
 tions of bygone summer nights, when as many as forty 
 kilns would be burning together and island signalling 
 to island with bonfires that flickered across the road- 
 steads and danced on the wild tide-races. From four 
 to five hours the kilns would be kept burning, and the 
 critical moment came when the mass of kelp began to 
 liquefy, and word was given to " strike." Then a dozen 
 or fourteen men would leap down with pitchforks and 
 heave the red molten mass from side to side of the kiln, 
 toiling like madmen, while the sweat ran shining down 
 their half-naked bodies ; and sometimes — and always 
 on Midsummer Eve, which is Baal-fire night — while 
 they laboured, the women and girls would join hands 
 and dance round the pit. In ten minutes or so all this 
 excitement would die out, the dancers unlock their 
 hands, the men climb out of the pit and throw them- 
 selves panting on the sand, leaving the kelp to settle.
 
 S AARON ISLAND 131 
 
 cool, and vitrefy. Little wonder that the boy re- 
 membered those fiery pits with the dark figures dancing 
 around their edge ! But, if this had not been enough, 
 the smell of the burning kelp had been more than 
 enough — that acrid, all permeating, unforgettable odour. 
 His mother had never been able to endure it. When 
 the wind drove the smoke from the beach, she would 
 shut every door and window, and build up every crevice 
 with a barricade of sandbags ; all in vain. It crept 
 into the house, choking the besieged, causing their eyes 
 to smart and their heads to ache, and scenting clothes, 
 linen, furniture. Even the food tasted of it. 
 
 The kelp-making had been a poorly paid industry at 
 the best. A night's work at the kiln produced from 
 two to three hundred-weight, and the price in the good 
 seasons ranged from four to five pounds a ton ; but so 
 many shared the labour that a family had much ado to 
 earn ten pounds in a whole season. Sometimes, too, 
 the sides of the kiln would fall in, and the sand — always 
 the curse of Saaron — would mingle with the kelp and 
 spoil it. And when some wiser folk in Scotland learned 
 to prepare it under cover, in ovens with paved floors, 
 the Islanders lost their market, almost in a single 
 season. 
 
 The boy remembered nothing of this collapse. 
 Children observe the toil, but are usually quite blind to 
 the troubles of their elders. He only knew that the 
 poorer families almost of a sudden drifted away from 
 Saaron, that he and his father and mother were left 
 alone on the Island, that his father had begun to busy 
 himself with farming, and required his help, and that in 
 consequence he was released from lessons. His mother, 
 a farmer's daughter from Holyvale in St. Lide's — the 
 one nook in the Islands where you lose sight and almost
 
 132 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 sound of the sea, and can look out of window upon 
 green trees — was a bettermost person and something of 
 a scholar. She taught the boy to read, to write a little, 
 and even to cipher up sums in addition and subtraction. 
 Also she took him over to Brefar to church on every 
 fine Sunday and taught him his catechism, on the 
 chance (often rumoured) that the Bishop would come 
 across from the mainland to hold a Confirmation. But 
 the Bishop of those days had a weak stomach, and on 
 the advice of his doctor kept postponing the voyage. 
 
 Thus Eli Tregarthen grew up into a strong, slow man, 
 gentle of manners, shy of the sound of his own voice, 
 but tenacious of purpose and stubborn when his will 
 was crossed. Except for the few months when he went 
 wooing after Ruth Cara — in the year before his mother's 
 death — his life, hopes, purposes, dreams and waking 
 thoughts concentrated themselves upon Saaron, and 
 from the day he brought his bride home to it the Island 
 became more than ever his sufificing world. He knew 
 a thousand small things concerning it — secrets of the 
 soil, of the tides, of the sand drift — voices of the wind, 
 varying colours of the sea, and what weather they fore- 
 told — where this moss grew, that bird nested — in what 
 week the wild duck arrived, on what wind the geese 
 might be looked for, and what feeling in the spring air 
 announced that the guillemots were due. He had learnt 
 these things unconsciously, and was quite unaware of 
 his knowledge, having never an occasion to review it or 
 put it into words. Moreover, it was strangely limited. 
 To his ancestors, to the folk who had lived here before 
 him, he never gave a thought, except to wonder what 
 their tillage had been or why they had rounded off a 
 hedge at such and such a corner. Of the history of his 
 own farmhouse he could tell you next to nothing.
 
 SAARON ISLAND 133 
 
 How long had the Tregarthens lived on the Island? 
 How far back beyond the five or six generations attested 
 by the signatures on old leaves hidden away in his 
 strong-box ? One might as well ask how long the sand- 
 pipers and oyster-catchers had bred on their separate 
 grounds under the north slope of the cliffs towards 
 Brefar. On the summit of the hill stood eleven mounds, 
 and in each mound (so tradition said) lay the burnt 
 bones of royalty. Was he, perhaps, descended from 
 these Island kings ? Tregarthen would not have given 
 sixpence to discover. They were dead, and less than 
 names : the place of their burial belonged to him, and 
 he had to wring a livelihood from it to support his wife 
 and family. Sometimes, when he thought of his three 
 youngsters — of the boy especially — Eli felt a vague 
 longing which puzzled him as well by its foolishness as 
 by its strength ; a longing to pass, when his time came, 
 into these barren acres and watch (though helplessly) 
 while his heir improved what he had painfully won. To 
 the past he gave never a thought. 
 
 Ruth Tregarthen, his wife, was one of those women 
 who find their happiness within their own doors. 
 
 She would be busy all day long about the house, but 
 mostly in the great kitchen ; as all day long her husband 
 worked in the fields. To the children it seemed that 
 their parents seldom if ever talked, and never by any 
 chance took a rest. 
 
 The children's names were Annet, Linnet, and 
 Matthew Henry ; and this was the order of their ages — 
 Annet nine. Linnet seven, and Matthew Henry rising 
 five. On fine days they attended school at Iniscaw, 
 being rowed to and fro across the Sound by Jan 
 Nanjulian, the hind, or Stevy, the farm-boy. These 
 made up the household and Saaron's entire population.
 
 134 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 The school which Annet, Linnet, and Matthew Henry 
 attended had been built by the Lord Proprietor on 
 Iniscaw shore to serve the three islands of Iniscaw, 
 Brefar, and Saaron. But there were days, and sometimes 
 many days together, when no boat could put across : 
 and the children enjoyed these days, for they were 
 ordinary healthy youngsters, though brighter-witted 
 than most, and felt as other youngsters feel towards 
 that wise and elderly beneficence which boxes them up 
 in a room for instruction. To be sure they missed the 
 games in the playground before and after school ; but 
 this was no such loss as the reader, remembering his 
 own childhood, might be disposed to think. For, sad 
 to tell, only a few of the hundreds of thousands of 
 children attending schools really understand games, or 
 can be said to have learnt to play, and the Island 
 children were in this respect some way behind their 
 brothers and sisters on the mainland. If at whiles the 
 small trio looked back wistfully as Jan rowed them 
 homeward, or if the shouts that followed across the water 
 from the playground now and again reproached them, 
 on the whole they would not have changed places with 
 their school-fellows even at a price. After all, no island 
 in the world could compare with Saaron 1 Their father 
 had never said this, but they were sure that he thought 
 it ; and their father knew everything. As he walked 
 along he would say suddenly, " Go there " — but without 
 lifting his eyes, just waving his hand towards the spot — 
 "and there you will find a bunting's nest, or a stone- 
 chat's " ; nor once in a dozen times would he be 
 mistaken. 
 
 Yes, there was much to be said for living on an island 
 where on any morning you might wake and find a gale 
 of wind blowing, forbidding you to go to school. But
 
 SAARON ISLAND 135 
 
 even in fine weather one could always look forward to 
 Saturday and Sunday, each a whole holiday. 
 
 To-day it was Saturday. The three had opened their 
 eyes soon after daybreak and lay in their cots " chirrup- 
 ing," as their mother called it — talking, planning out a 
 campaign of adventures for the long two days before 
 them. The sun shone through their nursery window, 
 which faced the east. They had curled themselves to 
 sleep before the great fog came up and covered the 
 Islands, and the sound of guns had not reached their 
 dreams. They awoke to a clear morning sky, and while 
 they chatted, waiting the order to tumble out and dress, 
 their father looked in at the nursery door, and astonished 
 and excited them with news of a great steamer which 
 had entered the Roads in the night, and was already 
 lifting anchor to pursue her voyage. 
 
 After breakfast they watched her from the hill above 
 the farmhouse, as she steamed past the southern point 
 of the Island, nosed her way slowly through Chough 
 Sound, between Iniscaw and St. Lide's, and so headed 
 away to the eastward until her smoke lay in a low trail 
 on the horizon. They had never before seen a steamer 
 of her size. 
 
 Thus strangely began a day which the three had still 
 stronger cause to remember. They had planned to 
 take their dinner wrapped in their handkerchiefs and 
 climb to the old tombs on the hill overlooking Brefar, 
 there to play at being Aztecs, from hints which Annet 
 had dug out of an old History of Mexico on her 
 mother's bookshelf; and at hiding treasure from the 
 Spaniards, whose ships were to come sailing through 
 the Off-Islands, Having concealed their hoard, they 
 were either to descend upon the Western Bay, which they
 
 136 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 called The Forth, and there offer a bloody resistance to 
 the invaders, or (this was Annet's notion, which for the 
 present she kept to herself) to wait until the north 
 channel dried, and make a desperate escape across the 
 sands to Brefar. The trouble was, she could not be 
 sure of low water happening early enough to let them 
 dash across and back before dusk. She was a brave 
 girl — a great deal braver, at least in these adventures, 
 than her sister Linnet ; but she had to bear in mind that 
 Matthew Henry was but five years old and easily tired, 
 and also that if they arrived home after dusk her mother 
 would be anxious and her father angry. So she nursed 
 the project in her own heart, and when the three had 
 taken seizin of the northern hill, eaten their manchets of 
 saffron-cake, and shared the canful of milk, she took up 
 a post from which, while the others scanned the offing 
 for Spaniards, she could watch and time the ebb of the 
 tide on the flats. 
 
 The afternoon was sunny ; the flat rock on which they 
 had perched themselves lay out of the wind's reach ; and to 
 beguile the interval of waiting Annet drew out a book 
 which she had brought with her — a much-worn copy of 
 Hans Andersen which had arrived at Christmas, three 
 years ago, as a gift from that mysterious Aunt Vazzy of 
 whom their mother talked so often. Matthew Henry 
 stoutly maintained that this aunt of theirs, whom they had 
 never set eyes on, must be a fairy herself — neither more 
 nor less ; and Annet had her doubts on this point. But 
 the book, at any rate, was real, with a real inscription on 
 the fly-leaf ; and the children (though some of the stories 
 puzzled them) believed it to be the most beautiful book 
 in the world. 
 
 Each child had a favourite story. Matthew Henry's 
 was " The Tinder-Box," and he would wake in the night
 
 SAARON ISLAND 137 
 
 from dreams, deliciously terrible, of the three dogs " with 
 eyes as big as coach wheels." Linnet, who had a 
 practical mind, preferred such tales as dealt with rolling- 
 pins, flat-irons, and shirt-collars, because these were familiar 
 objects, and their adventures usually ended cheerfully — 
 (she liked " The Ugly Duckling " because he was a 
 duckling, but objected to much of the tale as being too 
 sad). Annet declared for " The Little Mermaid," which 
 is perhaps the saddest of all ; and this was the one she 
 chose to-day — albeit half penitently, because she felt 
 pretty certain that it would make Linnet cry. 
 
 But to-day Linnet no sooner recognised the opening 
 of the story than she set her face as if defying it to 
 make her cry ; and when Annet reached that most 
 pathetic passage where the little mermaid glances down 
 sorrowfully at her fish's tail, and " Let us be merry," says 
 the grandmother, " let us dance and play for the three 
 hundred years we have to live," she lifted her chin, 
 stared hard at the horizon, and said resolutely, albeit 
 in a voice that trembled a little — 
 
 " I don't believe there are any such things as mer- 
 maids ! " 
 
 Young Matthew Henry opened his mouth and stared, 
 round-eyed, at such dreadful scepticism. 
 
 Annet, too, gazed up from her book. 
 
 '* But the story says there are," she answered simply 
 and gravely. 
 
 " Who ever saw one ? " persisted doubting Linnet. 
 
 " Hundreds of people ! " Annet began, and with that, 
 as a shadow fell on the rock, she lifted her eyes and 
 uttered a little cry. 
 
 Just above, on the flat tombstone that jutted over the 
 ridge, stood a beautiful lady, and looked down on them.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 THE LADY FROM THE SEA 
 
 HOW it happened the children never precisely 
 knew. When they came to compare notes that 
 evening their recollections varied on several important 
 particulars. But this was certain, that before they could 
 rise and run — and Matthew Henry protested that, for 
 his part, he had never an idea of running — the apparition 
 had stepped down from her pedestal and seated herself 
 among them in the friendliest way. 
 
 " Good-day ! " she nodded. " Now let me see . . . 
 this is Annet, and this is Linnet, and that is Matthew 
 Henry, and I hope you're all uncommonly well." 
 
 Annet gasped that they were quite well, thank you. 
 Who and what could she be, this lady out of nowhere ? 
 . . . Not a witch, for no witch could smile with such a 
 beautiful face or wear such beautiful clothes. On the 
 other hand, Annet had not supposed that fairies were 
 ever so tall. Yet something of the sort she must be, for 
 she knew their names. . . . 
 
 "You want to know where I come from? But that is 
 easy." The stranger reached out a white hand with a 
 diamond upon it, and Annet yielded the book to her 
 without resisting. " I come from here " — and she 
 tapped the pages mysteriously. 
 
 " But how can that be ? " demanded Linnet, who was 
 
 138
 
 THE LADY FROM THE SEA 139 
 
 always the matter-of-fact one. " Out of a book ! Such 
 things do not happen." 
 
 Vashti laughed merrily. " I assure you," she answered, 
 with a glance at the fly-leaf, " I have been in the book 
 all the while you were reading; and," she added, her 
 eyes softening as they rested on the child, " of you three 
 it is Linnet who is most like her mother." 
 
 They had not thought of this before, but she had no 
 sooner said it than they knew it to be the truth ; and 
 the discovery made her more marvellous than ever. 
 
 " Yes," she went on, " I have lived inside this book ; 
 and, what is more, I know the man who wrote it." 
 
 She looked around on the three faces ; and — so 
 strange are children — for the first time in his life 
 Matthew Henry at once asserted himself as a person 
 entirely different from his sisters. For Annet and 
 Linnet merely looked puzzled ; to them the book was a 
 book, just as the hill upon which they sat was a hill, and 
 they had never troubled their heads about such a thing 
 as an author. But Matthew Henry opened his infantine 
 eyes still wider. 
 
 " Tell us about him, please," he demanded. 
 
 Vashti eyed the child curiously for a moment before 
 answering. " He lives in the north," she said, " in a city 
 where the sea is sometimes frozen for weeks in the 
 winter, and where night after night you may see the 
 Northern Lights over the roofs. That is why he writes 
 so much of snow and fir-trees and cold winters." 
 
 Annet nodded. " I have seen the Northern Lights 
 once, from Saaron here," she announced proudly. 
 " Father took me out of my bed and held me up to the 
 window to look at them ; Linnet, too — but she was too 
 young to remember, and Matthew Henry was not even 
 born at the time."
 
 140 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " But tell us," persisted Matthew Henry, " about the 
 man who wrote the book." 
 
 " Well, the Northern Lights were shining in the streets 
 on the night when I met him. I drove to his house in 
 a sleigh from the theatre — if you know what a theatre 
 is ? " Vashti paused dubiously ; but Annet nodded and 
 assured her — 
 
 " That's all right. We don't know about these things, 
 for they are all in the book." 
 
 "And so," said Vashti, " is the man himself, or most 
 of him. He was a queer, shy old man, with oddly- 
 shaped hands and feet, but oh, such timid eyes ! And 
 he lived in a fine house all by himself, for he had no 
 wife. In the days when he wanted a wife he had been 
 an Ugly Duckling, and now, when he had turned into a 
 swan, it was too late to marry. He was very old indeed ; 
 but this was his birthday, and he had lit up all his 
 rooms for us and made a great feast, and at the feast he 
 made me sit on his right hand. . . . There were 
 princesses to do him honour, but he chose me out 
 because I had sung to him ; and the princesses were not 
 angry, because he was an old man. Out in the streets 
 the people were letting off fireworks, and while he talked 
 to me I could hear the whole sky banging with rockets 
 and crackers. It put me in mind of his story of 'The 
 Flying Trunk.' But he talked of Italy and the South, 
 because I had come from there ; and of the Mediterranean 
 and of beautiful inland lakes which he had known but 
 would never see again ; for he was over seventy. And 
 he told me that, in spite of the snow and frost outside, 
 he could feel the spring coming northward again with the 
 storks. Then he filled his glass and drank to me because, 
 as he put it, I had sung the South back to him. So now 
 you know why I was proud to come to you out of his book."
 
 THE LADY FROM THE SEA 141 
 
 " But," said Linnet gravely, " we were reading about 
 mermaids ; and you can't be one of them because there 
 aren't any." 
 
 Matthew Henry would by no means allow this. " But 
 Jan's father caught one," he objected, " in a pool just 
 inside Piper's Hole, where she was left by the tide. 
 He has told us about her, dozens of times. And besides," 
 he added, getting in a home-thrust, " if there isn't any 
 such thing, why were you crying over the story, just 
 now?" 
 
 " I wasn't," contended Linnet, very red in the face. 
 But she shifted her ground. " Why," pointing at Vashti's 
 skirts — " her clothes aren't even wet ! to say nothing of 
 a tail." 
 
 Vashti laughed. " My dears, you are both right and 
 both wrong. As for the mermaids. Linnet, they were 
 friends of mine before I reached your age, and you must 
 let me introduce you to one by and by, to cure you of 
 disbelieving. But you are right about me. I am not a 
 mermaid ; and yet I have come from the sea . . . like 
 the Queen Zenobia." 
 
 "When did you learn about her?" asked Annet, 
 speaking for the others. 
 
 " She was a Queen in Carthage, more than two 
 thousand years ago. She came to the Islands in a ship, 
 to visit the tin-mines which used to lie between them 
 and the mainland before the sea covered them, and from 
 which she drew her great wealth. Her ship arrived in 
 the middle of the Great Storm ; and before she came to 
 land, here on Saaron, the waters were rolling over the 
 richest part of all her dependencies. Little she cared ; 
 for in the first place she had never seen it, and could not 
 realise her loss, and moreover her ship had been tossing 
 for three days and nights past all hope, so that she was
 
 142 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 glad enough to reach a shore, however barren. She 
 reached it, holding on to the shoulder-belt of a brown 
 man, a Moor, who swam for land as the ship began to 
 break up ; and the story goes that when his feet touched 
 the sand he fell forward and died, for the swimming 
 had burst his heart. But have you never heard the song 
 about it ? " Vashti sank her voice and began to chant, 
 and low though the strain was, and monotonous, the 
 children had never heard such wonderful singing — 
 
 It was the Queen Zenobia 
 
 With her gold crown, 
 That sailed away from Africa 
 
 With a down-derry-down ! 
 
 — To westward and to northward 
 
 From Carthage town 
 Beyond the strait of Cadiz 
 
 The sky began to frown. 
 
 Well-a-mercy ! " cried her ladies, 
 All of high renown ; 
 " I think the sea is troublesome 
 And we shall all drown." 
 
 The seas came white aboard 
 
 And wetted her gown ; 
 ' ' Would I were back in Carthage 
 
 A-walking up and down ! 
 
 That I were back in Carthage — 
 
 Which is on dry ground — 
 I would give my jewels, 
 
 And a thousand pound." 
 
 Then round went the good ship, 
 
 And thrice she went round ; 
 The third time she brast herself 
 
 With a down-derry-down !
 
 THE LADY FROM THE SEA 143 
 
 Some cried misericordia, 
 
 And others did swoun ; 
 But up there stood a guardsman 
 
 A naked man and brown — 
 
 " You are the Queen of Carthage 
 
 And gey young to drown ; 
 But hold you to my girdle 
 
 That goes me around ; 
 And swim with me to Saaron, 
 
 As I will be bound." 
 
 "Your girdle it is breaking 
 
 That goeth you around." 
 *' Nay, hold you to the girdle 
 
 That is strong yet and sound ; 
 My heart you felt a-breaking, 
 
 But here is dry ground." 
 
 With white sand and shingle 
 
 The shore did abound ; 
 With white sand she covered him 
 
 And built him a mound. 
 
 With flotsam and with wreckage 
 
 The shore was all strown ; 
 She built of it a cottage, 
 
 And there she sat down. 
 
 "Though this be not Africa, 
 
 Nor yet Carthage town, 
 Deo-gracey," said Zenobia, 
 
 "That I did not drown !" 
 
 " That's where the tune changes," interrupted Matthew 
 Henry, clapping his small sunburnt hands together. 
 
 " You know the song then ? " asked Vashti, looking 
 from one to the other. 
 
 All three nodded. "We know a verse or two," 
 Annet answered. " Mother was always singing it 
 when she rocked Matthew Henry to sleep, and some-
 
 144 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 times we get her to sing as much as she can remember, 
 for a treat." 
 
 " But she can only remember five or six verses," said 
 Linnet ; " and her voice is not beautiful like yours." 
 
 Annet and Matthew Henry protested. Their 
 mother's was a beautiful voice; one of the most 
 beautiful in the world. 
 
 " But not beautiful like hers," Linnet persisted. 
 
 They admitted this — so much their loyalty allowed 
 them. " And I like the end of the song best," Linnet 
 went on, " because it's cheerfuller. It goes on ' At 
 daybreak she dressed her. . . .'" 
 
 But for a moment or two, though she felt the 
 children's eyes fastened on her expectantly, Vashti did 
 not resume the song. Those same expectant eyes 
 were open windows through which she looked into the 
 past, as into a house tenanted by ghosts. Through 
 Annet's, through Linnet's, she saw familiarly, recognis- 
 ing the dim children that played within and beyond 
 the shadow of the blinds. But the child Matthew 
 Henry's frightened her. She and Ruth had lost a 
 brother once. He had died in infancy, a scrap of 
 childhood, almost forgotten. . . . Yet Matthew 
 Henry's eyes too had a playroom behind them ; and 
 there too a shadowy child played at hide-and-seek. 
 
 Her voice shook a little as she picked up the old 
 song — 
 
 — At daybreak she dressed her, 
 
 Her wet hair she wound, 
 When she saw a lithe shepherd, 
 
 Stood under the mound. 
 
 He stood among the wreckage 
 
 With crook and with hound, 
 All alone in the morning 
 
 That most did astound.
 
 THE LADY FROM THE SEA 145 
 
 " O tell to me, lithe shepherd, 
 
 What king has this ground?" 
 "No king, ma'am, but Zenobia, 
 
 A Queen of renown." 
 
 " Lithe lad, she is shipwrecked ; 
 
 Myself saw her drown." 
 "Then 'tis you are Queen of Saaron 
 
 If you will step down. 
 
 I have sheep, goat, and cattle 
 
 And a clear three pound, 
 If you'll mate with me and settle 
 
 In goods we will abound." 
 
 " Well-a-way ! " sighed Zenobia, 
 
 " I have lost Carthage town, 
 But I like this lithe shepherd 
 
 So handsome and brown. 
 
 If I marry you," said Zenobia, 
 
 " Farewell to renown ! 
 If I marry you," said Zenobia, 
 
 "I mate with a clown. 
 But I'll marry you for all that, 
 
 With a down-derry-down ! " 
 
 "And," said Linnet, as the song concluded, "they 
 married and had twelve children — six boys and six 
 girls. Mother told me about it." 
 
 But Matthew Henry turned to the singer gravely. 
 " Is it true ? " he asked. " And are you really Queen 
 Zenobia?" 
 
 " Come and see," said Vashti, rising. " The sands 
 are bare between us and Brefar, and if Linnet is brave 
 enough she shall be shown the rock off which Jan's 
 father caught the mermaid." 
 
 " But we must get back again," objected Annet. 
 
 " I will see that you get back again." 
 10
 
 146 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " The sands may not be safe." 
 
 " When you told us yourself that they were quite 
 safe ! " protested Matthew Henry. " And you are 
 always promising that some day you will lead us over 
 and back without any danger at all." 
 
 " The fact is," said Vashti quietly, " Annet feels 
 herself responsible for you, and thinks that very likely 
 I am a witch." 
 
 The child faced her bravely, biting her lip upon the 
 inward struggle. 
 
 " You are not a witch," she said. " Your eyes are 
 too good. And, besides, there are people in Brefar who 
 will take care of us if we miss our way back." 
 
 Vashti smiled, and again half sadly, for out of her 
 own past this child confronted her. " That is brave, 
 Annet ; brave enough for the moment, though by and 
 by we shall have to be braver. See how the sands 
 shine below us I Shall we race for them and see who 
 wins?" 
 
 She took Matthew Henry's small unresisting hand, 
 and the four pelted down the slope. Something in 
 Vashti's eyes — it could not have been in the words of 
 her last answer, for they were mysterious enough — had 
 apparently reassured Annet, who cast away care and 
 called back in triumph as she won the race down to the 
 golden sands. 
 
 They were damp yet in patches, and these patches 
 shone like metal reflecting the greenish-blue spaces 
 that showed between the clouds in the heart of the 
 gathering sunset. But along the fair-way the sand lay 
 firm to the tread, yet soft to see as a stretch of amber- 
 coloured velvet laid for their feet. Beyond rose Brefar, 
 with its lower cliffs in twilight, its rounded upper 
 slopes one shining green. Vashti had kilted her gown
 
 THE LADY FROM THE SEA 147 
 
 higher and helped the two girls to pin up their short 
 skirts. All had taken off their shoes and stockings, for 
 here and there a shallow channel must be waded. 
 
 They crossed without mishap, and, having shod 
 themselves again, mounted the turfy slope where the 
 larks flew up from their hiding-places among the 
 stones. Vashti's talk was of the birds, for in all Brefar 
 the spot best worth visiting is Merriman's Head, where 
 the birds congregate in their thousands — cormorants, 
 curlews, whimbrels, gulls, and kittiwakes, oyster- 
 catchers, sandpipers — these all the year round — and 
 in early summer the razor-bills and sea-parrots. 
 Zenobia, it appeared, knew not only Merriman's Head, 
 but every rock, down to the smallest and farthest in 
 the Off- Islands, where these creatures nested. She 
 spoke to them of the Island from which Annet took 
 her name — a low-lying ridge to the west of St. Anne's, 
 curved like a snake, in nesting-time sheeted with pink 
 thrift. There the sea-parrots breed, and so thickly that 
 you can scarcely set foot ashore without plunging into 
 their houses; but there is a mound near the western 
 end where no sea-parrot may come, for the herring- 
 gulls and the black-backs claim it for their own. She 
 spoke of Great Rose, still farther westward, where the 
 gulls encamp among the ruined huts once used by 
 the builders of the Monk Lighthouse ; of Little Rose, 
 where the great cormorant is at home ; of Melligan and 
 Corregan, the one favoured by shags, the other by 
 razor-bills and guillemots. And so talking, while 
 they wondered, she brought them across the hill to 
 the great headland. 
 
 Merriman's Head, in truth, is itself an islet, being 
 cut off from Brefar by a channel scarcely eight feet 
 wide, through which the seas rush darkly, with horrible
 
 148 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 gurglings. The cleft goes down sheer, and was cut, 
 they say, with one stroke of a giant's sword. Beyond 
 it the headland rises grim and stark — a very Gibraltar 
 of the birds, packed in regiments on its giddy ledges. 
 
 As the children came down to the brink a flock of 
 white gulls seemed to drop from the rock, hung in the 
 air for a moment, and began wheeling overhead in wide 
 circles, uttering their strange cries. A score of little 
 oyster-catchers, too, tucked up their scarlet legs and 
 skimmed off in flight. But the majority kept their 
 posts and looked down almost disdainfully. 
 
 " They know we can't get to them," said Matthew 
 Henry. "But wait till I am grown up! Then I'll 
 come over to Brefar and build a bridge." 
 
 "You will not need a bridge when you are grown 
 up," said Vashti. " See ! " She stepped back a pace or 
 two, and the children, before they guessed her purpose, 
 saw her flash past them and leap. She cleared the 
 chasm, easily alighted, and stood smiling back at 
 them while the birds poured out from their ledges in 
 cloud upon cloud. Their wings darkened the air. 
 Their uproar beat from cliff to cliff, and back again in 
 broken echoes, like waves caught in a narrow cave and 
 rebounding. Vashti looked up and laughed. Like a 
 witch she stood, waving her arms to them. 
 
 " It is easy," she called back to the children ; " easy 
 enough, if you don't let the water frighten you. Why, 
 Annet could jump it if she dared. Annet . . . but no, 
 child ! go back ! " 
 
 But Annet, with a quick glance at her, and another 
 at the water swirling below, had set her teeth and 
 stepped back half a dozen paces. She would follow 
 this woman, witch or no witch ! 
 
 Linnet cried, too, and Matthew Henry. Vashti,
 
 THE LADY FROM THE SEA 149 
 
 stretching out both hands to wave back the child, 
 opened them suddenly to catch her — and not too soon, 
 for Annet alighted on a rock that sloped back towards 
 the gulf, and had measured her powers against the leap 
 so narrowly that her heels overhung the water when 
 Vashti gripped her and, dragging her up to firm ground, 
 took her in both arms. 
 
 " But why ? Why, Annet ? " 
 
 " I don't know," Annet answered, almost stupidly. 
 The danger past, she felt faint of a sudden and dazed ; 
 nor could she understand what the strange lady meant 
 by embracing her again, almost with a sob, and 
 murmuring — 
 
 " The little water, and so hard to cross ! But we 
 had the courage, Annet — you and I ! " 
 
 She turned and lifted her voice in a long, full-throated 
 cry, that sent the birds flying in fresh circles from the 
 eyries over which they were poising ; and before its 
 echoes died between the cliffs a boat came round the 
 point — a boat with one man in it, and that man Major 
 Vigoureux. 
 
 At another time they might have wondered how a 
 boat came here, and why the Governor himself — whom 
 they had seldom seen, but regarded from afar with 
 awe — should be in charge of it. But the afternoon had 
 fed them full with marvels. Here the great man was, 
 and in a boat, and the strange lady stood apparently 
 in no awe of his greatness. 
 
 "The little ones are tired," said Vashti. "We will 
 sail them home and land them on Saaron." 
 
 The Commandant backed his boat skilfully into the 
 passage between the walls of rock, lifted the two 
 younger ones on board, and then stretched out a hand 
 to the other shore to help Vashti and Annet. When
 
 I50 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 all were stowed, he pushed out for an offing, and hoisted 
 his small lug-sail, while Vashti took the tiller. 
 
 The breeze blew off the shore. The little boat 
 heeled, flinging the spray merrily from her bows. 
 Beyond and under the slack of the sail a golden sea 
 stretched away to the dying sunset. 
 
 It was an enchanted hour, and it held the children 
 silent. In silence they were landed on the beach of 
 West Forth, and climbed over the hill to their house. 
 From its summit they looked down upon a small sail 
 dancing through the sunken reefs towards the Roads, 
 away into the twilight where the sea-lights already 
 shone from the South Islands.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 AFTER SERVICE 
 
 " '^ I ^HEY are good children," said Vashti, as she and 
 JL the Commandant sat at breakfast together next 
 morning, which was Sunday. 
 
 For a moment the Commandant did not answer. He 
 was stirring his tea, in a brown study, nor did he note 
 that Vashti's eyes were resting on him with an amused 
 smile. She supposed these fits of abstraction to be 
 habitual with him, due to living and taking his meals 
 alone ; but in fact his thoughts were wrestling with two 
 or three very urgent problems. To begin with, he had 
 plunged yet deeper in debt to Mr. Tregaskis. The 
 total, to be sure, amounted to something under twenty- 
 five shillings ; but to a man with just one penny in his 
 pocket this left no choice but between recklessness and 
 panic, and the Commandant's spirits swung from one 
 to the other. Panic asserted itself in the small hours, 
 when he awoke in his bed and wondered what would 
 happen when pay-day came, should it bring no pay 
 with it ; and to a man lying sleepless in the small 
 hours, the worst seems not only possible but likely. 
 Then, as daylight waxed and he awoke again from a 
 short doze, to his surprise he found himself absolutely 
 reckless. As well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb ! 
 The ordeal lay three days off, and in three days any- 
 thing might happen ; but meanwhile this was certainly 
 
 151
 
 152 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 happening — a woman accomplished and beautiful had 
 stepped into his life and was changing all the colour of 
 it. He guessed the danger, but purposely averted his 
 thoughts from it and from the certainty of scandal. 
 Archelaus, Treacher, Mrs. Treacher — all three had been 
 sworn to secrecy, and all three could be trusted. These 
 good folks read no harm, nothing beyond an amusing 
 mystery, in Vashti's sojourn ; and in particular she 
 had made Mrs. Treacher her obedient slave. Yet the 
 secret must come out, and in spite of Archelaus, who 
 had brought his master's boat round and moored her 
 cunningly under the lee of the rocks overhung by the 
 Keg of Butter Battery. There, while the weather held, 
 the Commandant and his guest could slip away without 
 fear of prying eyes, and sail off among the Islands ; as 
 they had sailed off yesterday, Vashti sitting low and 
 covering herself with a spare-sail, until beyond sight of 
 St. Lide's Quay and the houses on the hillside. To be 
 sure they had to reckon with Mr Rogers' telescope, or 
 rather to leave it out of account. If Mr. Rogers' 
 telescope should prove indiscreet, Mr. Rogers must be 
 let into the secret, and could be relied on to join the 
 conspiracy. 
 
 The Commandant, however, was in no hurry to share 
 his happiness. Since his youth he had made few 
 friends, and in all his life had never known comradeship 
 with a woman. Suddenly, and as a well-spring in the 
 desert, Vashti had burst into the purposeless dull round 
 of his duty to refresh it ; nor perhaps were the waters 
 less sweet for the feeling that they were stolen. So he 
 lived in the day, and put off thinking of the inevitable 
 end. 
 
 But one thing troubled his happiness. He foresaw 
 that the end, when it came, would mean for him some-
 
 AFTER SERVICE 153 
 
 thing more serious than parting. He could not have 
 told why, but from the moment when Vashti had turned 
 on him and asked, " For what work do they pay 
 you ? " he had known that henceforward his conscience 
 would not sleep until he had made a clean breast to the 
 War Office and resigned his commission. It was not 
 that her question told him anything new ; only that he 
 saw himself judged in her eyes, and in their light dis- 
 covered that his conscience had been tolerating what 
 was really intolerable. Her departure, then, would 
 mean the end of all things ; for on the very next day 
 he would send in his papers and face the world alone. 
 So much respite he gave himself ; and this respite, and 
 not the prospect of parting, cast the only shade upon 
 his happiness. For he felt that he held her friendship 
 on a false pretence ; that, knowing the truth, she would 
 despise him. That is why the Commandant sat in a 
 brown study. 
 
 " They are good children," repeated Vashti, " but, like 
 all other children, they know nothing of their elders' 
 troubles. I remember I was nine or ten before ever 
 it occurred to me that my father could have any 
 troubles, . . . Now from the top of the hill where those 
 three youngsters sat telling their fairy-tales, I looked 
 over Cromwell's Sound and saw their father pulling 
 across from Iniscaw. By the very stoop of his shoulders 
 over the paddles I seemed to read that the world had 
 gone wrong with him, and when he beached his boat 
 and walked up the hill towards Saaron Farm, I felt sure 
 of it. Of course you may laugh and set it down to 
 fancy, for the man was a good three-quarters of a mile 
 away." 
 
 The Commandant, however, did not laugh. " I 
 think, very likely, you are right," said he ; " and the
 
 154 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 man had been over to Iniscaw to make a last appeal to 
 the Lord Proprietor." 
 
 " I wonder," mused Vashti, " if he is the sort of man 
 to tell his wife?" 
 
 The Commandant pondered this. " I know very 
 little of Tregarthen. In manner, though polite enough, 
 he always struck me as reserved to the last degree." 
 
 " Men of that manner are often the frankest with their 
 wives," said Vashti ; " though again, if you ask me how 
 I I'now it, I must answer that I can't tell you." She 
 sat for a moment, her brows puckered with thought ; 
 then, leaning forward, rested her elbows on the table, 
 while with eyes fixed seriously upon him she checked 
 off the pros and cons on her fingers. " On the one 
 hand Eli Tregarthen, being a reserved man, and brought 
 up on Saaron, probably loves the Island after a fashion 
 that Ruth understands very dimly if at all. I love my 
 sister " 
 
 The Commandant nodded. 
 
 " — But all the same I know where she is weak as well 
 as where she is strong. She never had that feeling for 
 the Islands which helps me to guess how her husband 
 feels about Saaron. I can't explain it " — here Vashti 
 opened her palms and lowered them till her arms from 
 the elbows rested flat upon the table. "Perhaps I 
 cannot make you, who were not born here, understand 
 why it would be grief to me to think of being buried in 
 any other earth. But I expect that Eli Tregarthen 
 feels it, and feels that, if they uproot him from Saaron, 
 his life will from that moment become a different thing, 
 in which he has not learnt — perhaps never will learn — 
 to take much interest. It's queer that, with just this 
 difference between us, Ruth should have been the one to 
 stay behind and I the one to go. But fate is queer. . . .
 
 AFTER SERVICE 155 
 
 Ruth is like her namesake in the Bible. Home for her 
 is the roof covering those she loves, and would be 
 though she changed the Islands for the other end of the 
 world. Therefore," said Vashti sagely, " if she felt for 
 her husband's trouble at all, it would be not as for a 
 trouble that afflicted them both equally ; she would be 
 sorry for him as she would be if he were hurt or diseased. 
 And you know that silent men like Tregarthen, when 
 they are struck by disease, will sometimes hide it from 
 their wives to the last possible moment — will tell no one, 
 but least of all their wives." 
 
 " Yes, that is true," the Commandant agreed. 
 
 " But, on the other hand " — here Vashti resumed her 
 checking — " Ruth has a wonderful gift of coaxing people 
 to confide in her even those things they very much 
 doubt her understanding. She used to get me to tell 
 my woes for the mere consolation of feeling her cheek 
 against mine. She had a wonderful knack, too, of 
 obliging me to be open with her, without ever asking it ; 
 and unless those children's faces and talk misled me 
 quite, they were formed in a house where the parents 
 keep no secrets from one another. You can always tell." 
 
 This was news to the Commandant ; and he admitted 
 that, as an old bachelor, he had never observed it. 
 
 " Always ! " insisted Vashti, nodding. " They spoke 
 of their father quite as if he were one of themselves ; 
 which is not only rare, and not only proves that Eli 
 Tregarthen is a good man, but persuades me that, being 
 in trouble, he has told his wife." 
 
 " You are reasoning beyond my depths," said the 
 Commandant. " But it all sounds admirably wise. 
 What next?" 
 
 " Why, if Eli has told her, she will be in trouble to-day 
 and I must go to her."
 
 156 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " To Saaron ? This morning ? " 
 
 "To Saaron, certainly; but not this morning, if you 
 are engaged." 
 
 " To tell the truth I had meant to go to church ; that 
 is, if you can spare me." 
 
 Simple man that he was, he had meant — having a 
 load to lift presently off his conscience — to receive and 
 be confirmed by the Sacrament. "Ye that do truly 
 and earnestly repent " — the words had been in his ears 
 at the moment when he took his resolve. Hopeless 
 though the prospect might be, he steadfastly intended 
 to lead a new life. 
 
 " My friend," said Vashti, " I am contrite enough 
 already for the amount of your time I am wasting. 
 We will put off our voyage until the evening." 
 
 He smiled wryly, remembering how she had asked 
 "For what work do they pay you?" 
 
 But Vashti, having decided upon an evening expedi- 
 tion, would not listen to his offer to sacrifice his 
 church-going ; and so to church he went, and confirmed 
 himself, and remained to take the Sacrament on his new 
 resolution. 
 
 Now whether or not he would have remained could 
 he have divined what was happening on Garrison Hill 
 I have no wish — as it would be indecent — to inquire. 
 
 But let us go back to Miss Gabriel. 
 
 Miss Gabriel, all the previous day, had been suffering 
 from a sense of defeat, and at the hands of an enemy 
 she had fallen into the habit of despising. A woman 
 (or a man, for that matter) of Miss Gabriel's temper 
 sees the world peopled with antagonists, and (perhaps 
 fortunately for her amour propre) cannot see that her 
 occasional victor is not only quite indifferent to his
 
 AFTER SERVICE 157 
 
 victory but has very possibly succeeded on the mere 
 strength of not caring two pins about it, or even on the 
 mere strength of not knowing that there was any fight 
 or anything to fight about. Such indifference would 
 have been gall and wormwood to Miss Gabriel had it 
 not also, and mercifully, been to her a thing incredible, 
 outside her range of apprehension. As it was, she felt 
 that the Commandant had taken her easily at a disad- 
 vantage, and routed her — horse, foot, artillery, baggage. 
 
 At the moment she had collapsed without a struggle. 
 There lay the sting. She had meekly thrown up her 
 hand, though it held one exceedingly strong trump. 
 That woman in furs and diamonds ! , . . Why had she 
 not insisted on the evidence of her own eyes and held 
 her ground, demanding whence that woman came and 
 what she did on Garrison Hill at such an hour? 
 
 The longer Miss Gabriel thought of it — and she 
 thought of it all the next day — the more firmly she 
 refused to believe herself the victim of an hallucination. 
 She lived frugally ; her nerves and digestion were alike 
 in excellent order ; in all her life she had never suffered 
 from faintness, and but once or twice from a headache ; 
 the keenness of her eyesight was notorious, and she 
 had a healthy contempt for anyone who believed in 
 ghosts. . . . Moreover, Charlotte Pope, though inclined 
 now to hedge about it, had undoubtedly seen the 
 apparition. 
 
 " I wish, my dear Martha, you could find something 
 else to talk about," pleaded Mrs. Pope, with a shiver. 
 " You and I know everyone on the Islands, and there's 
 no one in the least like — like what we saw ; while as 
 for her jewels, they must have cost thousands, if they 
 were real." 
 
 " Ha ! " exclaimed Miss Gabriel, with a decided sniff.
 
 158 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " I don't mean ' real ' in that sense, Martha ; and I 
 put it to you, Where could she have come from ? " 
 
 Miss Gabriel could not answer this, nor did she try. 
 " Then you did see her ? " she was content to say. 
 
 " I— I thought I did." 
 
 " And I, Charlotte, am positive you did. Have you 
 told your husband about it ? " 
 
 " Not yet." 
 
 " Don't then. Between ourselves, my dear Charlotte, 
 an idea has occurred to me ; and I fancy that if Major 
 Vigoureux thinks he can delude me with his painted 
 hussies he will find himself mistaken ! " 
 
 More, for the moment. Miss Gabriel would not dis- 
 close. But it is to be feared that her design occupied 
 her thoughts in church next morning to the detriment 
 of her spiritual benefit. The good folk of Garland 
 Town had — and still have — a pleasant custom of linger- 
 ing outside the church porch for a few minutes after 
 service to exchange greetings and a little mild gossip 
 with their neighbours ; and to Mr. and Mrs. Pope, thus 
 lingering, Miss Gabriel attached herself with an air that 
 meant business. 
 
 " Fine morning," said Miss Gabriel. 
 
 " The weather," assented Mr. Pope, clearing his throat, 
 " is quite remarkable for the time of year. As I was 
 observing to Mrs. Fossell, a moment ago, we might 
 be in August month; we really might. Whether we 
 attribute it or not to the influence of the Gulf Stream, 
 in the matter of temperature we are wonderfully 
 favoured." 
 
 " Quite so," said Miss Gabriel ; " and I was about to 
 propose our taking advantage of it for a short stroll 
 on Garrison Hill, to whet our appetite." She heard 
 Mrs. Pope gasp, and went on hardily, "You and I,
 
 AFTER SERVICE 159 
 
 Mr. Pope, can remember the time when all the rank 
 and fashion of Garland Town trooped up regularly after 
 divine service to Garrison Hill. 'Church parade,' we 
 used to call it." 
 
 " Indeed yes. Miss Gabriel — and with the Garrison 
 band playing before us. Those were brave old days ; 
 and now I daresay that, except for a stray pair of lovers, 
 no one promenades on Garrison Hill from year's end to 
 year's end." 
 
 " It shocked me, the other night, to discover how 
 completely I had forgotten it." 
 
 " You had indeed, ha-ha ! " laughed Mr. Pope, with a 
 roguish glance at his wife. 
 
 Miss Gabriel, too, glanced at her, and even more 
 expressively. " Admire my boldness," it seemed to 
 say, " and oblige me by imitating it as well as you can." 
 Mrs, Pope began to tremble in her shoes. 
 
 " Oh, it was ridiculous ! And I have a fancy to go 
 over the ground again and prove to you, and to our- 
 selves, how ridiculous it was. Shall we ? " 
 
 " With pleasure." Mr. Pope bowed and offered his 
 arm. In Garland Town, if you walked with two ladies 
 it was de rigueur to offer an arm to each. 
 
 The stars in their courses seemed to be helping 
 Miss Gabriel's design. Her one anticipated difficulty — 
 for she sought an interview with Mrs. Treacher, to 
 pump her in the presence and hearing of the Lord 
 Proprietor's agent — had been a possible interruption 
 by the Commandant, whom she still despised, but had 
 begun to fear a little. To her glee she had noted 
 that the Commandant kept his seat after service. For 
 another thirty minutes at least the coast would be clear. 
 
 She had never a doubt of bribing Mrs. Treacher — 
 or, to put it more delicately, of inducing her to talk.
 
 i6o MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Mrs. Treacher's manner had been brusque, the night 
 before ; but Miss Gabriel's own manner was brusque, 
 whether to friend or to foe, and nice shades of address 
 usually escaped her. Mrs. Treacher was certainly poor, 
 and with a poverty to which a shilling meant a great deal. 
 And Miss Gabriel had a shilling ready in her pocket, 
 as well as a half-crown as a heroic resource in case of 
 unlooked-for obstinacy. But the shilling would almost 
 certainly suffice. Had not the donative antimacassar 
 already established a claim upon the Treachers' 
 gratitude ? 
 
 Again the stars in their courses seemed to be fighting 
 for Miss Gabriel's design. For as the two ladies climbed 
 the hill on Mr. Pope's arm, and when they were almost 
 abreast of the barrack door, who should appear at the 
 garden gate, on the opposite side of the road, but Mrs. 
 Treacher herself Catching sight of the visitors she 
 halted, with her hand on the hasp of the gate. 
 
 " So few ever walk this way in these times ! " said 
 Miss Gabriel. " I declare we have frightened the poor 
 woman. Mrs. Treacher ! " — she lifted her voice as she 
 advanced. 
 
 " Ma'am." 
 
 " Mrs. Pope and I have been feeling not a little 
 ashamed of ourselves that at the time we did not — er — 
 recognise your — your kindness to us the other evening." 
 
 " Night, to be accyrate," said Mrs. Treacher, still inter- 
 posing her ample body between them and the entrance 
 to the garden. " Didn't you ? " 
 
 " You put yourself to some inconvenience on our 
 account," pursued Miss Gabriel ; " and — and if you 
 
 won't mind accepting " Miss Gabriel held out the 
 
 smaller coin by way of finishing the sentence. 
 
 " What's that for ? " asked Mrs. Treacher.
 
 AFTER SERVICE i6i 
 
 " The circumstances were so unusual, and in a way — 
 ha, ha ! — so amusing " 
 
 " Oh ! " Mrs. Treacher interrupted. " Unusual, was 
 they ? I'm glad to hear it." 
 
 " Why, of course they were unusual," Miss Gabriel 
 persisted, albeit a trifle dashed ; " and indeed so in- 
 credibly absurd that we have brought Mr. Pope to hear 
 your account of them ; for, I assure you, he'll hardly 
 believe us." 
 
 Mrs. Treacher looked at Mr. Pope solemnly for the 
 space of about ten seconds, and then as solemnly at 
 the ladies. 
 
 " What won't he believe ? " 
 
 "Why" — Miss Gabriel plucked up her courage — 
 " there was so much that afterwards, when we came to 
 compare notes, neither of us could explain — as, for 
 instance, who was the strange lady that walked into the 
 room and was evidently surprised to see us, as we were 
 naturally surprised to see her." 
 
 Mrs. Treacher turned slowly again to Mr. Pope, 
 whose face (since this was the first he had heard of any 
 strange lady) expressed no small astonishment. 
 
 '* Poor man ! " she murmured sympathetically. " Did 
 they really go so far as all that ? " 
 
 " I assure you " began Mrs. Pope, stammering. 
 
 " Oh, go your ways and take 'em home ! " cut in Mrs. 
 Treacher. " I'm a friend to my sex in most matters ; 
 but to come askin' me to back up such a tale as that, 
 and for a shillin' ! " She turned her palm over and let 
 the coin drop on the soil at her feet. 
 
 But here unhappily, at the height of Mrs. Treacher's 
 
 indignation, a sneeze sounded from a bush across the 
 
 patch of garden ; and the eyes of her visitors, attracted 
 
 by the sound, rested on an object which Mrs, Treacher, 
 
 II
 
 1 62 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 by interposition of her shoulders, had been doing her 
 best to hide; a scarecrow standing unashamed in the 
 midst of the Garrison potato patch — a scarecrow in a 
 flaunting waistcoat of scarlet, green, and yellow ! 
 
 (It is to be feared that Vashti, with the help of the 
 Garrison, had been spending her Sunday morning 
 almost as unprofitably as Miss Gabriel.) 
 
 " My antimacassar ! " 
 
 " Eh ? but surely the Lord Proprietor's " gasped 
 
 Miss Gabriel and Mr. Pope together. 
 
 " You'll excuse me," said the latter, after a pause ; " I 
 was referring to the lower part of the figure." 
 
 " Was ever such ingratitude ? " 
 
 " It is worse, ma'am — ten times worse. You may call 
 it sacrilege."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 BREFAR CHURCH 
 
 " T T was all my fault," confessed Vashti. 
 
 J. "I was thinking so," said the Commandant dryly. 
 " It had not occurred to me that Archelaus and the 
 Treachers were acting on their own initiative." 
 
 Vashti laughed, and her laugh rippled over the waves 
 to meet the sunset gold. They had taken boat beneath 
 the Keg of Butter Battery, and were sailing for Saaron 
 with a light breeze on their quarter. Evening and 
 Sabbath calm held the sky, from its pale yellow verges 
 up to the zenith across which a few stray gulls were 
 homing. From Garland Town, from St. Anne's, from 
 Brefar ahead of them, came wafted the sound of bells, 
 far and faint, ringing to church. The murmuring water 
 in the boat's wake seemed to take up Vashti's laugh and 
 echo it reproachfully, as she checked herself with a glance 
 at her companion's face, which also was reproachful and 
 sternly set, but with a slight twitch at the corners of the 
 mouth to betray it. 
 
 " Forgive me ! " she pleaded, but her voice betrayed 
 her in turn. 
 
 " You are not penitent in the least." 
 
 " As you are only pretending to be angry. Remember 
 that I belong to ' the profession,' and no amateur acting 
 can impose on me." 
 
 163
 
 i64 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " You will admit that you have behaved abominably." 
 The Commandant conceded a smile. 
 
 " Oh, abominably ! " 
 
 " And perhaps you will be good enough to indicate 
 how I am to restore my credit with — with those people. 
 When I met them coming down the hill and pulled up 
 to salute, Miss Gabriel froze me with a stare, Mrs. Pope 
 looked the other way, and her husband could only 
 muster up a furtive sort of grin. ' Excuse me,' it 
 seemed to say; 'things may right themselves by and 
 by, but for the present I cannot know you.' The three 
 between them knocked me all of a heap. Of course I 
 could not guess what had happened, but I made sure 
 they had seen you." 
 
 "It was the closest miss that they did not. When 
 they hove in sight I was actually standing in front of 
 our masterpiece, with my back to the road : standing 
 so " — Vashti placed a hand on either hip — " in front of 
 its turnip face, admiring the mouth I had carved with 
 Archelaus' clasp-knife, and calling orders to Archelaus 
 and Treacher, who were at work like schoolboys stuffing 
 them (so to speak) with straw. I fancy you have for- 
 gotten, on Garrison Hill, to guard against surprises. 
 At any rate, we should have been taken in a highly 
 unsoldier-like fashion if Mrs. Treacher had not kept 
 her eye lifting. She gave the alarm, and we scuttled 
 into the bushes like rabbits, and watched while she held 
 the gate. What is more, I believe she would have 
 fended off the danger if Archelaus hadn't sneezed ; and 
 
 then — oh, then ! " Vashti paused, her eyes brimful of 
 
 laughter. 
 
 " He broke cover? " 
 
 " I snatched at the tail of his tunic — hastily, I will 
 admit — but until he had stepped past me I had no
 
 BREFAR CHURCH 165 
 
 idea he meant to be so foolish. It came away in my 
 hand. They heard the noise it made in ripping," 
 
 " But they did not spy you ? " 
 
 " No ; for, seeing that the mischief was done, Sergeant 
 Treacher stepped out too. You should have heard them 
 explaining to Miss Gabriel ! But they were quite brave 
 and determined. They told me afterwards that rather 
 than allow one of the visitors to enter and catch sight 
 of me they would have picked up all three and carried 
 them outside the Garrison gate." 
 
 " The Lord Proprietor will certainly hear of this," said 
 the Commandant, musing. 
 
 Vashti, who had bent to pin the sheet closer, lifted 
 her head and regarded him with a puzzled frown ; then, 
 averting her eyes, let them travel under the foot of the 
 sail towards the sunset. 
 
 " Decidedly the Lord Proprietor will hear of it," she 
 said, after an interval, during which he almost forgot 
 that he had spoken. " Indeed, if it will help to get you, 
 or Archelaus, or anyone, out of a scrape, I propose to 
 cair on him to-morrow and confess all. Do you think 
 he will be lenient?" 
 
 There was a shade of contempt in the question, and 
 it called a flush to the Commandant's cheek. He was 
 about to answer, but checked himself and sat silent, 
 looking down at the foam that ran by the boat's 
 gunwale. 
 
 " He must be worth visiting, too ; that is, if one may 
 reconstruct him from — from them." 
 
 The Commandant smiled. " My dear lady, you have 
 already made one attempt to reconstruct him from 
 them." 
 
 " Yes, and adorned him with a beautiful grin ; whereas 
 you will tell me that he has no sense of humour,"
 
 i66 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 "None whatever; and yet he is by no means a 
 fool." 
 
 Vashti pondered a while, her chin resting on her hand 
 and her eyes yet fixed upon the sunset. 
 
 " I give you fair warning that I am here on a holiday," 
 she murmured. 
 
 " I don't know what you consider a fair warning ; but 
 I had guessed so much." 
 
 "The first for fifteen years," she pursued; "and I 
 won't promise that I shall not be worse — considerably 
 worse — before I am better. Are you very angry with 
 me?" 
 
 " My dear," answered the Commandant (" My dear," 
 it should be explained, is the commonest form of address 
 in the Islands, and even one that a prisoner will use to 
 the magistrate trying him), " if you really wish to know, 
 I am enjoying myself recklessly ; and it would be idle 
 to call my garrison to put you under restraint, since you 
 have already suborned them. I started, you see, with 
 the imprudence of showing you my defences, and now 
 you have us all at your mercy for so long as you choose 
 to stay and commandeer us." 
 
 " You have been more than good to me," said Vashti, 
 after a pause ; " but the fortress is already vacated." 
 She nodded towards a valise which rested under the 
 thwart by the foot of the mast. " Mrs. Treacher packed 
 it for me," she explained, " and her husband carried it 
 down to the boat. If Ruth needs me —as she almost 
 certainly does — and if her husband will tolerate me, I 
 shall sleep on Saaron to-night." 
 
 " But you will come back ? " he asked, in dismay. 
 " Certainly not, unless the Lord Proprietor drives me 
 to seek refuge." 
 
 The Commandant did not answer. He had known
 
 BREFAR CHURCH 167 
 
 that this happy time must be short ; he had known 
 it from the first, and that the end would come un- 
 expectedly. 
 
 " They will be going to Brefar Church to-night," said 
 Vashti, with a glance at the watch she wore on a 
 bracelet at the back of her wrist. 
 
 The wind had fallen light, and the boat crept up 
 to the entrance of Cromwell's Sound with sail that 
 alternately tautened its sheet and let it fall slack. The 
 single bell of Bretar Church yet rang to service ; but 
 the sun had sunk beneath the horizon, and the sea- 
 lights were flashing around the horizon, before Saaron 
 loomed close on the port hand ; and as they crept 
 towards the East Forth under the loom of the Island, 
 a row-boat shot out from the beach there, and headed 
 up the Sound towards Brefar. 
 
 " Hush ! " commanded Vashti, and peered forward. 
 
 But a boat putting out from Saaron at this hour could 
 only belong to Saaron's only inhabitants, and could be 
 bound but on one errand. And Ruth was in her ; for 
 presently, as the children's voices travelled back across 
 the still water, Vashti heard Matthew Henry's pitched 
 to a shrill interrogative and calling his mother by 
 name. 
 
 " They are rowing to church, the whole family," said 
 Vashti. " We can follow as slowly as we choose." 
 
 She listened a moment, but the oars in the boat 
 ahead continued their regular plash. It may be that 
 Tregarthen had failed to discern the small sail astern 
 of him under the loom of the land. She lowered it 
 quietly, stowed it, found and inserted the thole pins, 
 and shipped the paddles. Yet it seemed that she was 
 in no hurry to row. She but dipped a blade twice to 
 check the boat from swinging broadside-on to the tide.
 
 1 68 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 and so rested silent for minute after minute, gazing 
 through the gloom towards the bright sea-lights. 
 
 And it seemed to the Commandant, seated and 
 watching her, that he could read some of the thoughts 
 behind her gaze. His own thoughts went back again to 
 the night of his first coming to the Islands, when, as at 
 sunset he supposed himself to have discovered them, all 
 of a sudden they discovered him — reef after reef open- 
 ing a great shining eye upon him ; and some of the eyes 
 were steady, but most of them intermittent, and all sent 
 long gleaming rays along the floor of the sea ; a dozen 
 sea-lights and eleven of them yellow, but the twelfth 
 (that upon North Island) a deep glowing crimson. 
 Since then and for fifteen years they had been his 
 friends. Nightly he would watch them for minutes from 
 his window before undressing for bed ; and in his fanciful 
 moments they seemed to draw a circle of witchcraft 
 around the Islands. 
 
 If they meant so much to him, what must they mean 
 to her who had left home, dear ones, and all memories 
 of youth? — and who, returned from exile, stood with 
 her hand upon the latch of the old cupboard ? 
 
 " Ruth will have changed," said Vashti, speaking 
 aloud but to herself " It is impossible that she has 
 not changed." 
 
 She dipped her paddles and began to pull, gently at 
 first and almost languidly ; but by and by strength came 
 into her arms and the boat began to move at a pace that 
 astonished the Commandant. . . . 
 
 Brefar Church stands on a green knoll close by the 
 water's edge, and only a few yards above a shingly beach 
 where the Islanders bring their boats to shore. Its bell 
 had ceased ringing long before its windows came into
 
 BREFAR CHURCH 169 
 
 view with the warm lamp-light shining within ; and the 
 beach lay dark under the shadow of the tamarisks 
 topping the graveyard wall. Vashti, not in the least 
 distressed by her exertions, sprang lightly ashore and 
 sought about for a good mooring-stone. She had found 
 one almost before the Commandant, following, could 
 offer to help her in her search. Together they hauled 
 the boat a few yards above the water. 
 
 " Are we to go inside ? " the Commandant asked, 
 looking up at the lighted building. 
 
 Before Vashti could answer, a reedy harmonium 
 sounded within and the congregation broke into the 
 "Old Hundredth"— 
 
 " All people that on earth do dwell, 
 Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice " 
 
 The incongruity of it, sung by a handful of fisherfolk 
 here on an islet of the Atlantic — the real congruity (if 
 indeed the Church be, as the Bidding Prayer defines it, 
 " the whole body of Christian people dispersed through- 
 out the world ") — was probably less perceptible to the 
 Commandant after fifteen years' sojourn on the Islands 
 than to Vashti, newly returned from great continents 
 and crowded cities. But, if she smiled, the darkness 
 did not betray her. The Commandant saw her lift a 
 beckoning hand, and followed her up the knoll to a 
 whitewashed gate glimmering between the dark masses 
 of the tamarisks. 
 
 She opened it and disappeared into the churchyard. 
 Still he followed, stumbling along the narrow path, and 
 overtook her at the angle of the south porch. She was 
 in the act of mounting upon a flat tombstone which lay 
 close in the wall's shadow. A panel of light streamed 
 from the window directly above, and fell on Vashti's face
 
 lyo MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 as she drew herself erect upon the slab and leaned 
 forward, her fingers resting on the granite mullions ; but 
 a light not derived from this shone a moment later in 
 her eyes. With a little sob of joy she pressed her 
 forehead close against the leaded panes. 
 
 The Commandant heard the sound, and guessed the 
 cause of it. The light in her eyes he could not see. He 
 stood among the dark nettles, looking up at her, waiting 
 for the hymn to conclude. 
 
 The " Amen " came at last. He heard the shuffling 
 of feet as the congregation knelt to pray . . . and, with 
 that, Vashti turned and bent to whisper to him. 
 
 " She is there — almost abreast of us, standing by the 
 pillar. She is kneeling now — my own Ruth ! — and her 
 face is hidden." 
 
 He supposed that she bent to step down from the 
 slab, and he put up a hand to help her. A tear fell on 
 the back of his fingers, as it were a single raindrop 
 out of the night. . . . But she turned impulsively, and 
 pressed her face again to the glass. 
 
 "She is praying. She will not look up again. . . . 
 She would not turn her eyes just now, though her own 
 sister stood so close ! They were lifted to the lights in 
 the chancel and to the dark window above." Then, as 
 it seemed, with sudden inconsequence, she added : 
 " Forgive me, sir ! You have been kind to me, and it is 
 so many years — so many years " 
 
 " My dear," said the Commandant gravely, as he 
 handed her down, "you honour me more than I can tell. 
 All my life I shall remember that you have so honoured 
 me." 
 
 But it did not appear that she heard him. Letting 
 go his hand, she seated herself on the edge of the tomb- 
 stone, and looked up at him with eyes that, barely
 
 BREFAR CHURCH 171 
 
 touched by the light from the window, seemed to him 
 strangely, almost pitifully childish ; eyes of a child that 
 had lost its mother young. 
 
 " Her face has not changed, or a very little ; far less 
 than I feared. She is beautiful, my own Ruth ! — 
 beautiful as she is good." 
 
 " And happy ? " he found himself asking. 
 
 ** Happy and unhappy. Happy in her good man, in 
 her children ? — oh yes ! But unhappy, just now, because 
 they are unhappy and in trouble. There was a gloom 
 upon Eli Tregarthen's face, a dull look — of pain, I 
 think." 
 
 " Of anger, too, and of wonder mixed with it, I 
 daresay. He has been hit by a blow he does not 
 understand." 
 
 "But we will help them." 
 
 The Commandant stared into the darkness. There 
 was gloom, too, on his face, had there been light 
 enough to reveal it. 
 
 " The Lord Proprietor is a very obstinate man." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; but I mean that we will help them 
 to-night. I cannot bear to think of Ruth carrying her 
 trouble home and lying awake with it." 
 
 " Perhaps she will not." The Commandant re- 
 membered" how he himself had carried a burden to 
 church that morning and left it there. 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed Vashti swiftly, guessing his 
 thought, though not the occasion of it. " That may do 
 for you and me. For my part, I am not a religious 
 woman — I mean, not religious as I ought to be; yet I 
 understand. Often and often when worried or out of 
 temper I go to church and sit there alone until peace of 
 mind comes back to me. But I have no husband, and 
 you no wife ; whereas with Ruth all her soul's comfort is
 
 172 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 bound up in those she loves. While Eli Tregarthen 
 wears that look on his face, she can never go home 
 happy." 
 
 " But have we power to lift it ? " 
 
 •' We will try, and to-night." 
 
 She stood up, cast one look behind her at the lighted 
 window, and led the way back along the path, through 
 the gate, and down the knoll to the beach. While she 
 cast off the rope from its mooring-stone he eased the 
 boat off and launched her. 
 
 " Shall I take the paddles ? " he asked. 
 
 No; Vashti would pull back as she had come; and 
 as she pulled she talked of Ruth, out of her full heart. 
 He listened, between joy and pain — ^joy to be sitting 
 here, honoured with her confidences, though he had 
 none but a listener's share in them ; here, in the still, 
 scented evening, caressed .by her marvellous voice — and 
 pain, not because her talk charged life full of new 
 meanings, every one of which she felt to be vitally true 
 and as certainly missed by his own starved experience, 
 but because it took him for granted as a kindly 
 stranger, an outsider admitted to these mysteries, and 
 warned him that his time on this holy ground was 
 short ; nay, that it was drawing swiftly to a close. 
 And how could he go back to the old routine, the old 
 monotony ? 
 
 Nay, to whatever he went back, it would not be to 
 that — at any rate, not for long. The future might hold 
 degradation, poverty of the sharpest, hard work for a 
 pittance of daily bread ; but at least his dismissal would 
 liberate him to a life in which lay somewhere these 
 meanings that trembled like visions of light in the heart 
 of Vashti's talk. They gave him glimpses of the heaven 
 which, by their remembered rays, he must seek for
 
 BREFAR CHURCH 173 
 
 himself. How many years had he wasted — how many 
 years ! 
 
 They moored the boat close under the cliffs shadow, 
 and, climbing the rocks between the cove and the East 
 Forth, sat down to wait. Vashti sat in reverie, pluck- 
 ing and smelling at small tufts of the thyme; then, 
 rousing herself with a happy laugh, she challenged the 
 Commandant to name her all the islets, rock by rock, 
 lying out yonder in the darkness. He tried, and she 
 corrected omission after omission, mocking him. What 
 did he care? It was enough to be seated here, close 
 beside her in the starry, odorous night. 
 
 By and by she tired of the contest, and clasping her 
 
 knees began, without warning given, to croon a little 
 
 song — 
 
 " Over the rim of the moor, 
 
 And under the starry sky, 
 
 Two men came to my door 
 
 And rested them thereby. 
 
 Beneath the bough and the star 
 
 In a whispering foreign tongue, 
 They talked of a land afar, 
 
 And the merry days so young." 
 
 She sang it as though to herself, or as though answer- 
 ing the murmur of the tide on the rocks at their feet ; 
 but at the third verse her voice lifted — 
 
 ** Beneath the dawn and the bough 
 I heard them arise and go — 
 But my heart, it is aching — aching now, 
 For the more it will never know." 
 
 The song died away in a low wistful minor, as though 
 it breathed its last upon a question. "The merry days
 
 174 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 — the merry days, so young," she echoed, after a pause, 
 and lifted her head suddenly. 
 
 " Hark ! " 
 
 The sound — it was the plash of oar — grew upon the 
 darkness. A light shot out beyond the last point of 
 Brefar, and its ray fell wavering on the black water. It 
 came from a lantern in the bows of the Tregarthens' 
 boat, and as it drew nearer the two listeners could 
 distinguish the children's voices. 
 
 They shrank back, there in the shadow above the 
 ledge, as the boat took ground and Eli Tregarthen, 
 stepping ashore in his sea-boots, set the lantern on the 
 stones of the beach, lifted out the children, and lent a 
 hand to Ruth. The little ones scampered up the path ; 
 but Ruth waited by her husband while he heaved the 
 boat high and dry with his easy careless strength and 
 saw to her moorings. When all was done, and as he 
 stooped to pick up the lantern, she came to him and put 
 a hand on his arm. So, and without speech, they went 
 up the path together. 
 
 The rays of the lantern danced on the furze-bushes to 
 right and left of the path. . . . Vashti leapt to her feet : 
 her hands went up to her lips and hollowed themselves 
 to a low call. 
 
 "Lul— lul— loo— ee!" 
 
 From the brake above came a little gasping cry ; 
 and gruffly upon it Eli Tregarthen's voice challenged — 
 
 " Who goes there ? " 
 
 " Caa-ra ! Caa-ra ! ... Oh, Ruth ! My sister ! " 
 
 The Commandant saw Tregarthen's lantern lifted 
 above the gorse, and by the light of it Ruth came 
 down to the narrow pathway — came with the face of a 
 ghost, as Vashti sprang up the slope towards her. 
 
 " Vazzy ! Not Vazzy ! "
 
 BREFAR CHURCH 175 
 
 But Vashti's arms were about her for proof. The 
 Commandant, standing below in the shadow of the 
 brake, heard the younger sister's sobs. 
 
 " Vazzy ! And to-night ! " 
 
 " To-night, and for many nights " 
 
 " Thank God ! Thank God ! " 
 
 The Commandant, by the light of the lantern which 
 Eli Tregarthen held stupidly, saw them go up the path, 
 their arms holding each other's waist. They disappeared, 
 but their questions and eager, broken answers, as they 
 climbed towards Saaron, came down to him where he 
 stood alone, forgotten. 
 
 He stood there for half an hour almost. Then, as he 
 felt the chill of the night, he recalled himself to action 
 with a shiver and shouldered Vashti's valise. Slowly he 
 climbed the hill with it, to Saaron Farm, and rapped on 
 the door. 
 
 Tregarthen opened to him, staring. 
 
 " I have brought your sister-in-law's luggage." 
 
 *' Is it the Governor ? . . . But won't you step inside, 
 sir?" 
 
 " I thank you ; no. It is late," answered the Com- 
 mandant curtly, and turned on his heel. 
 
 As he went by the window he saw — he could not help 
 seeing — Ruth in her chair, with Vashti on the hearth 
 beside her, clasping her knees. The children looked on 
 in a wondering semicircle. 
 
 He stumbled down the hill. As he went, he heard 
 the door softly closed behind him.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 THE LORD PROPRIETOR'S AUDIENCE 
 
 SIR C^SAR HUTCHINS, Lord Proprietor, paced 
 the terrace of Iniscaw Priory, and paused ever 
 and anon to survey the prospect with a lordly, pro- 
 prietary eye. He had breakfasted, and at breakfast 
 (to use his own words) he always did himself justice. 
 Indeed throughout a strenuous business career he had 
 never failed to take very good care of himself, and 
 was now able to enjoy a clear conscience with an easy 
 digestion. 
 
 The reader may ask with some surprise how such 
 a man, accustomed all his life to the bustle and traffic 
 of Finsbury Pavement, E.G., could choose, in his 
 middle age, to turn his back on these and purchase 
 an exile out in the Atlantic, where no one bought or 
 sold shares, and where only Mr. Fossell, perhaps — 
 and he from a week-old newspaper — caught an echo 
 of the world's markets, whether they rose or fell. 
 But, in truth. Sir Caesar had chosen carefully, de- 
 liberately. He had always intended to enjoy in later 
 life the wealth for which he had worked hard in his 
 prime ; and as soon as his fortune was assured, he 
 had made several cautious but determined experiments 
 to discover where enjoyment might abide. He had, 
 for instance, rented a grouse-moor, and invited a large 
 company to help him, by shooting the birds, to feel 
 
 176
 
 THE LORD PROPRIETORS AUDIENCE 177 
 
 that he was getting a return for his money. But 
 somehow his guests, though very good fellows in 
 London, did not harmonise with the Highland wastes. 
 He was glad when they departed; the scenery im- 
 proved at once — at any rate, he took more pleasure 
 in it. He tried a deer forest and found this tolerable, 
 but he soon made the further discovery that shooting 
 bored him ; that is to say, all shooting of higher rank 
 than the potting of rabbits. He was one of those 
 enviable persons who "know what they like." If he 
 made trial of these expensive recreations, it was simply 
 because he saw men ambitious for them, and sup- 
 posed they would certainly yield some gratification to 
 explain it; but, having made trial for himself and 
 missed the gratification, he abandoned them without a 
 sigh. 
 
 At another time he had owned a steam yacht; and 
 this had taught him that he liked the sea and suffered 
 no inconvenience from its motion. But from the 
 yacht itself he derived small satisfaction after he had 
 shown it to his friends, and been envied by poorer men 
 for possessing such a toy. It might have been amusing 
 to carry these admirers about with him on extended 
 cruises ; but they, being poor, were busy and could 
 not afford the time, while his rich acquaintances owned 
 steam yachts of their own. Moreover, though un- 
 accustomed to sport, he had always taken a fair 
 amount of exercise; his liver required it; and at 
 yachting — that is to say, sitting on deck in a comfort- 
 able chair — he put on flesh at an alarming rate. There- 
 fore from this pastime also he retired. 
 
 Though these experiments were in themselves 
 uniformly unsuccessful, he had not made them in 
 vain ; but, keeping his wits about him, had arrived 
 12
 
 178 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 by a process of exhaustion at some of the essentials 
 of pleasure; and this, after all, was not so bad for 
 a man who had started with no knowledge concerning 
 it and with a deal of false information. He knew now 
 that he required exercise, that he could be happy in 
 solitude, and that his landscape would be all the 
 better if it neighboured on the sea. (Of his immunity 
 from sea-sickness he was honestly prouder than of 
 anything his money had been able, as yet, to purchase.) 
 He had scarcely made these discoveries when the lease 
 of the Islands came into the market. 
 
 Then, as he read the advertisement in the Times 
 newspaper, in a flash he had divined his opportunity, 
 had seen a happy future unrolled before him. 
 
 He was a widower. He had no ambition but his 
 own to consult; he alone would suffer if he made a 
 mistake — and he felt sure he was not making a mistake. 
 Though not given to day-dreams (Finsbury Pavement 
 discouraged them), he had an ounce of imagination 
 distributed about his brain ; few, even among money- 
 making men, succeed with less ; and it had once or 
 twice occurred to him that a king's must be, in spite 
 of drawbacks, a highly enviable lot — at any rate in 
 countries west of Russia. Well, here was his 
 chance. 
 
 He took it boldly ; and to-day, had you asked him, 
 he would have acknowledged with a smile that he did 
 not repent. All kings, to be sure, have their worries. 
 The army had not shown itself too well affected towards 
 the new reign. But when an army consists of three 
 soldiers ! . . . 
 
 The Lord Proprietor, gazing down from his terrace 
 upon the twinkling waters of the roadstead, caught 
 sight of a row-boat heading across from St. Lide's, and,
 
 THE LORD PROPRIETOR'S AUDIENCE 179 
 
 as it drew near, recognised its sole occupant, Sergeant 
 Archelaus, 
 
 He felt for his cigar-case, chose and lit a cigar, and 
 rested his elbows on the balustrade of the terrace; 
 watching while the old man brought his boat to the 
 quay, landed leisurably, and crossed the meadow to 
 the foot of the gardens, where, at the pace he was 
 keeping, one might allow him a couple of minutes at 
 least before he re-emerged into view at the foot of the 
 steps leading up to the terrace. But, as it happened, 
 a bare fifty seconds elapsed before he came darting 
 out of the boscage and scrambled up the stairway in 
 a sweating hurry, two steps at a time. 
 
 "You shouldn't, sergeant; you really shouldn't — at 
 your time of life 1 " expostulated the Lord Proprietor 
 kindly, withdrawing the cigar from his mouth. 
 
 "Then you shouldn't keep ostriches," retorted 
 Sergeant Archelaus, as he gained the topmost step and, 
 after a fearful glance behind him, sank against a pilaster 
 and mopped his brow. 
 
 " Take care of that urn ! " cried the Lord Proprietor 
 in a warning voice. " It contains a Phormium tenax 
 that I wouldn't lose on any account." 
 
 " A what ? " 
 
 " A New Zealand Flax. . . . The ostriches chased 
 you, did they? " 
 
 " They did — ^the pair of 'em. It goes against a man's 
 stomach, too, being chased by a bird." 
 
 " To me," said the Lord Proprietor, " it is gratifying 
 evidence that they are recovering their spirits, which 
 were hipped after the long voyage from Cape Town. 
 But here, in the Gulf Stream, my theory is that we 
 can acclimatise almost anything, animal or vegetable. 
 Already they begin to feel its invigorating influence."
 
 i8o MAJOR VIGOUREXJX 
 
 " Talking of vegetables, sir " Archelaus shifted a 
 
 canvas bag from his shoulders to the ground and began 
 to untie the string which bound its neck. 
 
 " Pray take breath," suggested the Lord Proprietor. 
 " At your age — and with the little exercise you get on 
 Garrison Hill " 
 
 "We don't keep ostriches," said Archelaus curtly. 
 " But, talking of vegetables, the Governor sends his 
 compliments to you, sir, and begs your acceptance of a 
 few choice plants in return for the small-clothes." 
 
 " It has since occurred to me," said the Lord Proprietor, 
 who was in the best of moods this morning, "that 
 those — er — breeches might be a trifle conspicuous — a 
 shade too highly pronounced in pattern — to be worn 
 with uniform." 
 
 " As for that, sir," answered Archelaus tactfully, 
 " life on the Islands isn't like active service, where a 
 man has to be careful about exposing himself to marks- 
 manship." 
 
 " In Inverness a pattern like that would excite no 
 comment." 
 
 " I've never been there," said Archelaus. 
 
 " It — er — harmonises, as it were, with the natural 
 surroundings : with the loch, the glen, the strath. So 
 with those curious tartans to which the Scottish 
 Highlanders are — er — addicted. Seen by themselves, 
 they appear crude, almost violent, in their contrast 
 of colours; but seen in conjunction with the expanse 
 of native moorland, the undulating stretches of the 
 heather " 
 
 " 'Tis but niggling scenery we have in these parts, to 
 be sure," agreed Archelaus. 
 
 " I have sometimes thought that, mutatis mutandis^ the 
 same may be true of the bagpipes, the strains of which
 
 THE LORD PROPRIETOR'S AUDIENCE i8i 
 
 — * skirl/ I believe, is the proper expression — are not 
 altogether discordant with the moaning of the wind over 
 those desolate wastes or the cries uttered by their wilder 
 denizens; though, speaking personally, I never could 
 endure the instrument." 
 
 " Me either," agreed Archelaus again, shuffling a little 
 on his feet, as the dreadful truth began to dawn on him, 
 that the Lord Proprietor meant to present him with 
 yet another pair of trousers. 
 
 Sir Caesar, however, chose to play for a minute with 
 his benevolent design. 
 
 " There is no more delicate study," he went on, " than 
 that of acclimatisation. None which requires a nicer 
 union of artistic daring with artistic judgment, patience 
 with decision. ... I propose to go in for it pretty 
 extensively on Iniscaw." 
 
 " Yes, sir ? " 
 
 " The ostriches have been a great encouragement." 
 
 " I suppose, now, when you get accustomed to 
 em 
 
 " Though I have yet to prove that they will breed 
 here. Yet, why not? The Gulf Stream, I am assured, 
 has a stimulating influence upon all forms of organic 
 life, animal as well as vegetable. It may be compared 
 with that inward volcanic heat which, in and around the 
 Bay of Naples, clothes the shore with verdure, and is not 
 without responsibility for the passions of the inhabitants. 
 . . . But, as I was saying, a man must use judgment. 
 A plant may thrive when transferred across a thousand 
 miles of ocean, may propagate itself even more freely 
 than in its native habitat, and yet, to the artistic eye, be 
 never truly at home. Its colour, of flower or foliage, 
 refuses to blend with our landscape, to adapt itself to 
 our Atlantic skies. It is my hobby, sergeant, to discover
 
 1 82 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 not only what imported plants will flourish with our soil 
 and climate, but what particular one is worthiest of 
 cultivation; and, having discovered that, I propose to 
 bend all my best energies upon it. ... Eh? But 
 where did you get those remarkably fine bulbs ? " 
 
 Archelaus held out three in the palm of his hand. 
 
 " From the Garrison garden, sir ; with the Governor's 
 compliments, and understanding you to take an interest 
 in bulbs." 
 
 " Daffodils ? " The Lord Proprietor took one of the 
 bulbs and examined it, turning it over. " I had no idea 
 that Major Vigoureux — er — went in for this sort of 
 thing, or I'd have done myself the pleasure of visiting 
 his garden." 
 
 " You wouldn't find much in it, sir," said Archelaus 
 hastily, remembering yesterday's adventure. " At least 
 not much to interest you. To tell the truth, the 
 Governor sets very little store by these, though they 
 look pretty enough in March month. But wanting to 
 show his feelings in the matter of those trousers " 
 
 " You shall have another pair ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " said Archelaus, in spite of himself. 
 
 " And you may take back my thanks to the Com- 
 mandant, and tell him that I hope, within the next few 
 days, to pay him a call." 
 
 Archelaus touched his forelock, bringing up his palm 
 at the right military salute — in those days a complicated 
 operation. To himself he breathed a thanksgiving that 
 the Fair Lady (as he and the Treachers called Vashti) 
 had taken her departure from Garrison Hill overnight. 
 Ever since breakfast he had been feeling sadly dejected 
 about it, and so (if appearances might be trusted) had 
 his master. There is a fearful joy, after all, in living on 
 a volcano.
 
 THE LORD PROPRIETOR'S AUDIENCE 183 
 
 But, alas for Sergeant Archelaus ! He was at this 
 moment standing on the crust of a volcano, and that 
 crust was momentarily wearing thinner. 
 
 For the shore beneath the Priory has two landing 
 quays, of which the southern (Archelaus had used the 
 western) lies hidden from view of the terrace, and can 
 be approached by a boat keeping close under St. Lide's 
 shore. Engrossed in his lecture upon acclimatisation, 
 the Lord Proprietor had missed to perceive, before 
 the trees intervened and hid her, a boat making 
 for this eastern quay ; and so had Archelaus, for 
 the simpler reason that he stood with his back to the 
 view. 
 
 " Step into the house with me, and you shall make 
 your choice between half a dozen pairs," the Lord Pro- 
 prietor invited him. 
 
 " If you are sure it's not troubling you," said 
 Archelaus. 
 
 " My good man " began the Lord Proprietor, lead- 
 ing the way ; and with that he turned about, surprised 
 that Archelaus was not following. " Eh ? What's the 
 matter ? " 
 
 But Archelaus, speechless, was staring along the 
 terrace to its eastern end, where, at the head of a flight 
 of steps leading down among the shrubberies, a head 
 had suddenly uprisen into view — a head in a grey 
 bonnet with trimmings of subdued violet — the head of 
 Miss Gabriel. 
 
 "N'h'm!" said Miss Gabriel, and turned to Mr. 
 and Mrs. Pope, who were mounting the stairway at 
 her heels.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE LORD PROPRIETOR RECEIVES A 
 DOUBLE SHOCK 
 
 " "\ T 'H'M ! " said Miss Gabriel again, as she once 
 
 1 \| more surveyed the shrinking Archelaus. " So 
 you allowed you'd steal a march on me ? " 
 
 " I had no such thought, ma'am," stammered 
 Archelaus. 
 
 " You'll get no good out of it, anyway ; and of that 
 I warn you. Good-morning, sir ! " — this with a curtsey 
 to the Lord Proprietor. 
 
 " Good - morning, ma'am 1 How d'ye do, Pope ? — 
 and your good lady is well, I hope ? But to what do 
 I owe this unexpected — er — honour ? " 
 
 " Hivi" said Miss Gabriel, nodding, and with scarcely 
 a change of tone. 
 
 " To Sergeant Archelaus, ma'am ? Why, what has 
 he been doing?" 
 
 " You might better ask," Miss Gabriel answered 
 slowly, emphatically, with her eye on the culprit, " what 
 he has not." 
 
 " Whichever you please, ma'am. Come ! " 
 
 " I find a difficulty in putting a name to it," pursued 
 Miss Gabriel, still in the same level tone. " But Mr. 
 Pope will bear me out. If he doesn't, I shall still 
 allow no false delicacy to stand between me and my 
 duty." 
 
 184
 
 LORD PROPRIETOR RECEIVES A SHOCK 185 
 
 " Miss Gabriel means, sir," explained Mr. Pope, " that 
 the articles in question " 
 
 " What articles, man ? " asked the Lord Proprietor, 
 as Mr. Pope, in his turn, hesitated. 
 
 " Trousers," said Miss Gabriel, setting her face. " No, 
 Charlotte " — she turned upon Mrs. Pope — " this is no 
 time for mincing language. They were on a scarecrow, 
 sir, in the very middle of the Garrison garden, along 
 with my waistcoat " 
 
 " Your waistcoat, ma'am ! " 
 
 " That is to say, with my antimacassar, which I had 
 converted into a waistcoat and presented, in the 
 innocence of my heart, to Treacher; the clothing of 
 these men being nothing short of a scandal. But for 
 scandal, sir, their clothes won't compare with their 
 doings." 
 
 " My dear lady — I implore you, let us take one thing 
 at a time ! You wish to make some statement about 
 a scarecrow — in the Garrison garden — adorned (am I 
 right ?) with a waistcoat you were once kind enough to 
 present to Sergeant Treacher, and (I gather) with a pair 
 of trousers about which you are less explicit." The Lord 
 Proprietor paused. His eyes grew round with sudden, 
 
 terrible suspicion. " You don't mean to tell me ? " 
 
 he asked slowly, and paused. 
 
 Miss Gabriel nodded, and wagged an accusing fore- 
 finger at Archelaus. 
 
 "That's just what I do mean. And if you want a 
 picture of guilt, look at that man ! " 
 
 The Lord Proprietor turned and stared at him, gasping. 
 
 "My trousers? Mine? Oh, if I " But here 
 
 again speech failed him. 
 
 Archelaus flung a wild glance about him, vainly 
 seeking escape.
 
 1 86 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 "You're looking at it in the wrong light, all of you," 
 he mumbled feebly. 
 
 " And on the Sabbath, too ! " put in Mrs. Pope. 
 
 *' This man," — the Lord Proprietor held up a hand 
 as though calling Heaven to witness — " On what 
 pretence do you suppose that he came here this 
 morning? Why, to thank me! To thank me for 
 those very — er — articles of which you tell me he makes 
 a public mock ! Look at the bag in his hand. What 
 do you suppose that it contains ? " 
 
 " Adders," suggested Mrs. Pope. " I shouldn't be 
 surprised." 
 
 "You may well say so, ma'am. It might well be 
 adders. Indeed, I'm not sure it isn't worse." 
 
 " Oh ! " Mrs. Pope, already backing before the horrors 
 of her own imagination, caught at the balustrade for 
 support. 
 
 " Daffodils, ma'am ! A present of daffodil bulbs, 
 with the Commandant's compliments, and in acknow- 
 ledgment of my gift ! Could hypocrisy go further ? " 
 
 " Major Vigoureux," said Miss Gabriel, " was never 
 a friend of mine. Let those who thought better of him 
 defend him now, when he shows himself in his true 
 colours." 
 
 But here Archelaus pulled himself together. 
 
 " The Governor," he answered sullenly, ** had nothing 
 to do with it. The Governor was in church at the time, 
 as is well known to all of you." 
 
 " Yes, yes," interposed Mr. Pope. " Let us be just. 
 The Commandant was certainly in church at the time : 
 on our homeward way we met him returning from 
 church ; and I would add, sir — if you will forgive me — 
 that he is a gentleman quite incapable of suggesting or 
 conniving at so vulgar a trick."
 
 LORD PROPRIETOR RECEIVES A SHOCK 187 
 
 " H'm ! " The Lord Proprietor accepted this with a 
 snort, for he could not help being aware of its truth. 
 But his wrath still needed a vent, and he turned upon 
 Archelaus again. 
 
 " The Governor ? " he echoed. " Are you ignorant 
 that Major Vigoureux is not Governor of these Islands, 
 nor has been for three years? — even if he had ever a 
 right to the title." 
 
 " He's my Governor, anyway," answered Archelaus, 
 turning more and more dogged ; " and he's Treacher's. 
 And if you'll take and ask the Governor to punish 
 me, he'll do it, be sure. As Mister Pope told you just 
 now, the Governor's a gentleman : he wouldn't play 
 such a trick, not if you was to offer him the world and 
 the kingdoms thereof: and he'll be teasy as fire when 
 he hears about it. But I warn you, ladies and gentle- 
 men all, don't you take the law into your own hands 
 over this distressin' case, but go to him meek-like an' 
 say you want Arch'laus punished. That's all. Least- 
 ways, that's all, unless you ask my honest opinion on the 
 breeches in question, which is, that I wouldn't put 'em 
 astride a clothes-horse and call him a son o' mine." 
 
 The Lord Proprietor stepped back, purple in the face. 
 
 But Miss Gabriel flew at game higher than Archelaus. 
 
 " That is all very well," she interposed in her coldest, 
 most incisive tone. " But to whom does the credit of 
 this insult belong if not to Major Vigoureux? You 
 may talk till doomsday, my man, before I'll believe that 
 you and Treacher thought of it." She stood for a 
 second or two, eyeing him. " A-ah ! " she said, a little 
 above her breath. " I thought as much. . . . There 
 zvas a woman, Charlotte, and that woman is at the 
 bottom of the whole business ! I ask you, if you doubt 
 it, to look at his face."
 
 1 88 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 "She'd nothin' to do with it," affirmed Archelaus 
 stolidly, drawing the back of his hand across liis 
 brow. 
 
 "She?" mocked Miss Gabriel. "And pray who is 
 'she'?" 
 
 Archelaus made a bold effort to recover himself. 
 "Why, Treacher's missus . . . unless you mean the 
 Ghost." 
 
 " That Mrs. Treacher bore a hand in the sport I have 
 the evidence of my own eyes ; and if by ' the Ghost ' 
 you allude to a painted hussy that Mrs. Pope and I 
 surprised, the other night, in your master's quarters, I 
 advise you to keep that for the Marines. Sir" — Miss 
 Gabriel turned to the Lord Proprietor — "this petty 
 insult of the scarecrow is the smallest part of our 
 complaint against Major Vigoureux. Our real indict- 
 ment is graver. We have reason to believe — we have 
 ocular proof — that the Major is at this moment and by 
 stealth entertaining a most undesirable guest at the 
 barracks." 
 
 " My dear Martha, we cannot be altogether sure " 
 
 objected Mrs. Pope. 
 
 " Speak for yourself, Charlotte." Miss Gabriel folded 
 her hands and bent on Archelaus a gaze under which 
 he felt himself withering. " I am quite sure." 
 
 " Undesirable, ma'am ? " asked the Lord Proprietor, 
 thoroughly mystified. " In what sense undesirable? " 
 
 " — Unless," answered Miss Gabriel, tapping her foot, 
 and with the air of one who curbs a virtuous impatience, 
 " unless you can suggest a term more appropriate to a 
 Jezebel ; in which case I shall stand corrected." 
 
 " Jezebel — Jezebel ? But, my dear Miss Gabriel, 
 consider before you bring such a charge : here especially 
 in the presence of Major Vigoureux' servant, who will
 
 LORD PROPRIETOR RECEIVES A SHOCK 189 
 
 doubtless report it to his master. Reflect how serious 
 it is ! " 
 
 " Why, bless the man ! " Miss Gabriel cut him short 
 disdainfully. " As if 1 hadn't been reflecting for three 
 days on end ! Let him sue me for slander if he dare. 
 I'll stick to my guns, if I kiss the book upon it ; and 
 what's more, so will Charlotte Pope," 
 
 " I never said so, Martha," pleaded Mrs. Pope. 
 
 "And very wisely, ma'am." Sir Caesar nodded 
 approval. " For, as I was about to say, reflect upon 
 the extreme improbability — nay, the utter impossibility 
 — that — er — such a person could visit the Islands un- 
 noticed, and actually spend three days on Garrison Hill 
 undetected by any save yourself. Nay, if we grant 
 the miracle of her arrival, who is to assure us that she 
 has not by this time as mysteriously vanished? In 
 that case, what have we to show for our suspicions? 
 How, setting aside the Major's indignation, shall we 
 find ourselves less than a laughing-stock for the whole 
 population of the Islands ? " 
 
 " And sarve ye right ! " added Archelaus, who began 
 to perceive that this thundercloud had its silver lining. 
 But if he counted on daunting Miss Gabriel, he was 
 mistaken. 
 
 " Turn you round, my man !" snapped that indomitable 
 lady. " Turn you round, and give me a look at those 
 coat-tails of yours. Ha ! " she exclaimed, as Archelaus, 
 by habit obedient to the word of command, faced about 
 towards the balustrade. " There was a coat-tail missing 
 yesterday, if I remember, when you crept out from the 
 bushes like a whipped urchin, and now you'll be telling 
 me that these fine stitches were put in by Jane Treacher, 
 who is like most soldiers' wives, and sews like a 
 cow ! "
 
 190 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 "The Lord have mercy upon us!" said Archelaus 
 in a hushed voice. 
 
 It took them two or three seconds to understand that 
 the words were not an answer to Miss Gabriel ; that he 
 had spoken them to himself, staring— as he still stared 
 — down the steps, down the green alley leading to the 
 terrace. 
 
 Then, perceiving that something was amiss with the 
 man, they too stepped to the balustrade and looked 
 down; as up the leafy path came the very woman of 
 their speculations— Vashti, faultlessly arrayed, trailing 
 a neat parasol and humming a song as she drew near. 
 
 " The same ! " gasped Miss Gabriel. " I call you to 
 witness, Charlotte ! " 
 
 "But, you'll excuse me," Mr. Pope objected, "she 
 don't appear to answer precisely to a Jezebel." 
 
 "You men think of nothing but outward show," 
 snapped Miss Gabriel. (This, by the way, was unfair 
 to Mrs. Pope.) 
 
 " Well, and that's something," Archelaus put in with 
 affability, his spirits rising as the danger drew nearer. 
 " Talk about Garrison Hill ! She seems to be pretty 
 well at home on Iniscaw, too." For Vashti, halting in 
 the chequered sunlight beneath a trellised arch, had 
 reached up the hooked handle of her sunshade to draw 
 down the spray of a late autumnal rose, and stood for 
 a. moment inhaling its odour. 
 
 It may be that just then she caught sight of the 
 watchers upon the terrace. If so, not a movement 
 betrayed her. As though reluctantly, she released the 
 branch and, as it sprang upward, resumed her way up 
 the path, disappearing under a massed canopy of 
 Virgin's Bower. A few seconds, and she would emerge
 
 LORD PROPRIETOR RECEIVES A SHOCK 191 
 
 into view again, almost at the foot of the terrace 
 stairs. 
 
 They waited . . . 
 
 " But whatever has become of the woman ? " asked 
 Miss Gabriel, after a pause. 
 
 " It's confoundedly odd ! " growled the Lord Pro- 
 prietor, after another. 
 
 " She may have turned down a by-path." 
 
 " There's no by-path within fifty yards of her. More 
 likely she's stopping to take a smell of the clematis. 
 . . . We might step down and see." The Lord Pro- 
 prietor suited the action to the words and led the way. 
 
 " In my opinion, if you want it," said Archelaus, 
 "you won't find her there. Because, why? She's a 
 ghost." 
 
 " A ghost ? " quavered Mrs. Pope. 
 
 " Nonsense, my dear ! " Her husband offered his arm 
 to assist her down the steps. " Such a beautiful young 
 person ! " 
 
 "The first time I saw her she didn't frighten me at 
 all," agreed Mrs. Pope ; " but if she's going to bob in 
 and out of sight in this way, I shan't sleep in my bed 
 to-night." 
 
 A cry from the Lord Proprietor startled them. He 
 had plunged down the path beneath the over-arching 
 clematis. They ran to overtake him, and found him 
 staring at vacancy. Vashti had vanished, apparently 
 into thin air. 
 
 " Oh, but this is midsummer moonshine ! " declared 
 Sir Caesar. " The woman must be hiding somewhere 
 near. Miss Gabriel, if you will kindly attend to Mrs. 
 Pope, her husband and I will search the thickets 
 hereabouts."
 
 192 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 They searched in the thickets and along the garden 
 paths, but without recovering a trace of the unknown. 
 Not so much as a glimpse of her skirt rewarded them. 
 
 Sergeant Archelaus abandoned the search early, 
 dodged into the plantations on the left, and went his 
 way, chuckling, back to his boat. 
 
 "A terrible trying morning," he allowed, as he cast 
 loose ; " but the end was worth it."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 VASHTI PLEADS FOR SAARON 
 
 FOR twenty minutes Sir Caesar and Mr. Pope beat 
 the shrubberies, and even carried their search 
 down to the great walled garden which was one of the 
 wonders of Iniscaw. Tradition said that the old monks 
 had built it, of bricks baked upon the mainland; and 
 that it had been their favourite pleasance, because its 
 walls shut out all view of the sea. Certainly if the old 
 monks had built this garden, they had built it well. 
 The Priory itself, of Caen stone, had lain in ruins for 
 at least two hundred years before the Lord Proprietor 
 came to clear the site and build his new great house 
 on the old foundations ; but these brick walls defied the 
 tooth of time. 
 
 Magnificent walls they were, four feet in thickness, 
 heavily buttressed ; the bricks set in mortar even tougher 
 than themselves. They enclosed two acres of rich black 
 soil at the mouth of Iniscaw's one valley, where it 
 widens into a marsh beside the shore. Between them 
 and the water's edge stood the Lord Proprietor's new 
 schoolhouse, above a small landing-quay ; and within 
 the schoolhouse a class was singing as Sir Caesar and 
 Mr. Pope entered the old garden. The children's 
 voices came floating prettily over the old wall — so 
 prettily that Cai Jenkins, the septuagenarian gardener, 
 broke off his work to comment upon it, leaning on his 
 
 13
 
 194 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 hoe and addressing Eli Tregarthen, who lounged in the 
 gateway leading to the shore. 
 
 " Always fond of children, I was," said Cai Jenkins, 
 "though I never picked up courage to marry. 'Twas 
 the women that always daunted me. And now I've 
 a-come to a time o' life that I'm glad of it. A married 
 man throws his roots too deep, an' when Death come 
 along, 'tis always too soon for en. He wants to bide 
 and see his youngest da'rter's child, or he wants to 
 linger and mend a thatch on the linhay — his married 
 son can't be brought to see the importance o't. What 
 with one thing and another, I never knowed a married 
 man yet 'was fit to die; whereas your cheerful bachelor 
 comes up clean as a carrot. What brings you across 
 from Saaron to-day, Tregarthen? I'll wage 'tis to fetch 
 your children back from school." 
 
 " Partly," confirmed Eli, pulling out his pipe and 
 eyeing it slowly before he filled it. 
 
 "Iss; partly that, an' to listen here to their voices 
 soundin' so pretty across the wall. And partly, I 
 reckon, 'tis on the chance to get speech with the Lord 
 Proprietor and persuade en to let you bide on Saaron. 
 But that you'll never do. Mind, I'm not sayin' a word 
 against th' old curmudgeon ; he's my employer, to start 
 with, besides being what God made en. But — reason ? 
 You might as well try reason on the hind leg of a 
 jackass. Go thy ways home, Tregarthen : go thy ways 
 home an' teach yourself that all this world and the 
 kingdoms thereof be but what the mind o' man makes 
 'em, and Saaron itself but a warren for rabbits." 
 
 Tregarthen shook his head. 
 
 " A barren rock ! Come now, bring your mind to 
 it I " Cai suggested, coaxing. 
 
 " 'Tis no good, Cai."
 
 VASHTI PLEADS FOR SAARON 195 
 
 " A cottage in a vineyard — what says holy Isaiah ? A 
 lodge in a garden of cucumbers — a besieged city " 
 
 " Cai Jenkins ! " — It was the Lord Proprietor's voice 
 calling from the upper gate. 
 
 " Y'r honour 1 " Cai snatched his hoe and wheeled 
 about sharply as the great man came down the path 
 with Mr. Pope at his heels. 
 
 " How long have you been working here?" demanded 
 Sir Caesar. " Perhaps I had better have said ' idling/ " 
 he added, with a frown and a curt nod at Tregarthen 
 in the doorway. Sir Caesar's grey eyebrows had a 
 trick of bristling up like a cat's at the first hint of 
 unpleasantness, even at sight of anyone who crossed 
 his will ; and they bristled now. 
 
 "'Been workin' here the best part of the morning," 
 answered Cai, with an old servant's freedom of tone 
 and a complacent look backward at the patch of turned 
 soil. " And 'might have been workin' yet but the 
 children singin' their hymn yonder" — with a jerk of 
 his thumb towards the wall that hid the school building 
 — " warned me 'twas time to knock off for dinner." 
 
 Now, the Lord Proprietor had meant his question for 
 preface to another. " Had Cai, while at work, caught 
 sight of a strange lady anywhere in the garden ? " The 
 question, if put just then, and in Tregarthen's hearing, 
 might have changed the whole current of this small 
 history ; for Tregarthen was a poor hand at dissimula- 
 tion — or, rather, was incapable of it. But the sight of 
 his back, as he turned away, caused Sir Caesar's eye- 
 brows to bristle up yet more pugnaciously. 
 
 "Hi, sir!" 
 
 Tregarthen turned slowly. 
 
 "You are waiting here to fetch your children from 
 school, I suppose ? "
 
 196 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " Yes," said Tregarthen. 
 
 " And isn't that an instance, man, of what I tried to 
 make you understand two days ago ? Cannot you see 
 what time and trouble you'll be saving yourself — let 
 alone the children — when you're comfortably settled 
 on Brefar and within half a mile of a handy school ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Tregarthen again. His eyes met the 
 Lord Proprietor's without servility as without disrespect, 
 but with a kind of patient wonder. 
 
 " Well, then " — Sir Caesar turned to Mr. Pope for 
 confirmation — "here is a man who — to give him his 
 due, eh? — works as hard as any on the Islands; harder, 
 I daresay, than his own hired labourer " 
 
 Mr. Pope nodded. 
 
 " — A man," continued Sir Csesar, " who never gives 
 himself a holiday ; a man whose nature it is to grudge 
 every hour of the day that isn't employed in wringing 
 money out of a rabbit-warren. Come now ! " — warmed 
 by his own eloquence to a geniality equally hearty and 
 false, Sir Caesar swung round again upon Mr. Pope — 
 " I daresay we may call him, to his face, about the best 
 of my farmers ! " 
 
 Mr. Pope contented himself with answering that Mr. 
 Tregarthen had given the estate in the past every 
 satisfaction ; that it would surprise him indeed if at 
 this time of day Mr. Tregarthen were to give trouble. 
 
 But the Lord Proprietor, as a master of men, brushed 
 "this hesitancy aside, and with jovial tact. " A first-rate 
 fellow 1 " he insisted. " One of our best ! Only pig- 
 headed, as the best always are. And so, when I 
 offer him a choice of two farms, each better than 
 his present one, he must needs take it into his 
 head that I'm doing him an injury. Such a man " — 
 here Sir Caesar wagged a forefinger at the accused —
 
 VASHTI PLEADS FOR S AARON 197 
 
 " needs to be protected against himself. Such a man 
 needs to be told — and pretty straight — that he is 
 injuring others besides himself, and that, as I have 
 authority in these Islands, so I owe it to my conscience 
 to forbid his letting his children grow into little 
 savages." 
 
 Eli Tregarthen looked up as though a stone had 
 struck him. The colour on his face darkened. Hitherto 
 (though suffering from it) he had not argued, even in 
 his own mind, against Sir Caesar's evicting him from 
 Saaron. 
 
 He had resented it, as one resents mere brute force ; 
 but he had not argued with that which had never 
 presented itself as resting upon argument. But this 
 speech of Sir Caesar's struck him as with a blow — and 
 let in light. Though he knew himself to be a slow- 
 witted man, Eli had a clear sense of his wife's wisdom, 
 and that wisdom irradiated for him any argument which 
 came — as an accusation of neglecting the children surely 
 came — within range of Ruth. 
 
 *' If you dare to say that again," said Eli, " I'll knock 
 your impudent head off." 
 
 All three of them heard it -the Lord Proprietor, Mr. 
 Pope, and old Cai — though neither could believe his 
 ears. For Eli had spoken quite quietly and distinctly. 
 Mr. Pope was the first to recover ; but before he could 
 get in a word Eli was following up the attack — still not 
 hastily, still with a slow force that paused on every 
 word. 
 
 " You ? What do you know of children, that never 
 had a child? And what do you know of Saaron or 
 any other island, that never took your birth here nor 
 made your living ? You fill your pockets in a London 
 shop ; you go off to an auction, and there you buy
 
 198 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 these Islands, that you've never seen. So the auctioneer 
 told you. But what did you buy, you little man, over 
 and above the power to make yourself a nuisance in 
 your day? Did you buy understanding of the Islands? 
 Or a birthright in 'em? Or a child to leave 'em to? 
 . . . There, I do wrong to be angered with 'ee. But 
 you put a strain upon a man, you do — talkin' of 
 children in that way. Children ? " 
 
 The man paused with something like a groan. An 
 instant before it had been in his mind to tell Sir Caesar 
 passionately that, so far from grudging the time spent 
 in fetching Annet, Linnet, and Matthew Henry from 
 school, he looked forward to it as the one bright break 
 in a day that began before sunrise and lasted till after 
 sunset. It had been on the tip of his tongue, too, to 
 say, with equal passion, that any man who spoke of 
 them as savages insulted his wife's care of them, and, 
 repeating his threat, to bid the Lord Proprietor do his 
 worst. But eloquence had come to him now for the 
 first time in his life, and at the first check he stammered 
 and broke down ; and so, with a hunch of his shoulders, 
 turned his back on his audience and walked off heavily 
 down the lane. 
 
 Mr. Pope, with great tact, laid a hand lightly on the 
 Lord Proprietor's arm and conducted him back to the 
 gate by which they had entered. There, yet gasping 
 for speech, the great man lifted his eyes, and was aware 
 of Mrs. Pope and Miss Gabriel distractedly advancing 
 along the path. 
 
 With a gulp he pulled himself together, and walked 
 forward to inform them that the chase had been 
 unsuccessful ; that not a glimpse of the fugitive had 
 been discovered. Resuming a hold upon his gallantry, 
 he hoped that his visitors would remain for luncheon*
 
 VASHTI PLEADS FOR S AARON 199 
 
 which must be nearly due. "After which," he added, 
 with a creditable smile, " we may, if we will, resume the 
 search in more philosophical mood." 
 
 But here again Mr. Pope was tactful. He divined 
 that his patron was suffering; that the wound needed, 
 for the moment, solitude and silence to ease its smart. 
 He was sorry to deprive the ladies of such a pleasure ; 
 but, for his part, business called him back to Garland 
 Town. He had, he regretted to say, an engagement 
 at two o'clock sharp. To be sure, if the ladies chose 
 to stay, he could send back the boat for them. . . . 
 But this he said knowing that his wife was thoroughly 
 frightened, and that (as she herself put it later) wild 
 horses would not induce her to remain, lacking his 
 protection. 
 
 The Lord Proprietor escorted his visitors down to the 
 landing-quay, and there helped the ladies to embark. 
 The search for the fair fugitive (he promised them) 
 should be vigorously prosecuted. She was not likely 
 to elude it for long, and he would at once report success. 
 The leave-takings over, he stood by the shore until the 
 small boat had made her offing, and so, with a farewell 
 lift of the hat, turned and walked moodily towards the 
 house. 
 
 He was relieved to be alone after the morning's very 
 painful experiences. Twice since breakfast he had been 
 wounded in his dignity, and nowhere does a man of 
 his nature suffer more acutely. Nor could the wounds 
 be covered over and hidden, for he had taken them 
 openly, almost publicly. His anger swung helplessly 
 forward and back between the two outrages, both to 
 him inexplicable. To be sure he had not reckoned on 
 any gratitude for the gift of the breeches. But what
 
 200 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 had he done that they should be flaunted on a scare- 
 crow? Oh, it was monstrous ! 
 
 As Httle could he understand Tregarthen or Tre- 
 garthen's language. Some gadfly must have bitten 
 the man. A few acres of the barrenest land in the 
 whole archipelago — and the fellow talked as though 
 he were being dispossessed of an Eden ! Yes, and as 
 though that were not enough, he had used the flattest 
 disrespect. The Lord Proprietor was not accustomed to 
 disrespect. From the first his Islanders had treated him 
 with the deference due to a king. Save and except the 
 Commandant, no man had ever crossed his will or 
 disputed his authority. . . . 
 
 His rage swung back again upon the Commandant. 
 It was all very well to plead that the Commandant had 
 been in church at the time of the outrage ; but, after 
 all, an officer must be held responsible for his men's 
 doings. Well, let Major Vigoureux beware ! More 
 than once the Lord Proprietor had been minded to 
 memorialise the War Office and inquire why the tax- 
 payers' money should be wasted to maintain three 
 superannuated soldiers at full pay in a deserted 
 barracks. 
 
 " Upon my word," said the Lord Proprietor to himself, 
 " I've a mind to run over to Garrison Hill and ask 
 Vigoureux what the devil he means by it. Either he 
 knows of this, or he doesn't — I'll soon learn which. In 
 either case I'll have an apology; and, what's more, I'll 
 teach him who's master here, once for all." 
 
 He had reached the terrace, and paused there for a 
 moment to draw breath after his climb, at the same 
 time throwing a glance across the blue waters of the 
 roadstead at Garrison Hill and the white buildings upon 
 it, slumbrous in the autumn haze. The glance threatened
 
 VASHTI PLEADS FOR SAARON 201 
 
 mischief to that unconscious fortress, and a sharp nod 
 of the head confirmed the threat. 
 
 " Yes, yes, this very afternoon ! The sooner the 
 better ! " 
 
 He swung round briskly and stepped across the 
 terrace to a French window that stood open to the air 
 and sunshine. It was the window of the morning-room, 
 where he usually took his luncheon, and he passed in 
 briskly, meaning to ring the bell and give orders to 
 have the meal served at once. But as he stepped 
 across the low sill somebody rose in the room's cool 
 shadow and confronted him, and he fell back catching 
 at the jamb for support and staring. 
 
 It was the stranger herself — the woman for whom 
 they had all been vainly searching. 
 
 " Good-morning ! " said Vashti, with a self-possessed 
 little bow. " Oh, but I fear I have startled you ! " 
 
 "Ah — er " The Lord Proprietor pulled himself 
 
 together with an effort — "Well, to tell the truth, you 
 did take me by surprise ; the more so that " 
 
 " It was dreadfully uncivil of me — not to say impudent 
 — to walk in here unannounced. But the fact is I could 
 find no door along the terrace ; nothing but windows. 
 Forgive me." 
 
 " Certainly, madam, certainly. . . . The front door is, 
 so to speak, at the rear of the building. . . . But I was 
 going to say that you took me the more by surprise 
 because, as a matter of fact, I had just given up hunting 
 for you." 
 
 Vashti laughed. She looked adorably cool and 
 provoking ; and still, as he stared at her, the Lord 
 Proprietor wondered how and whence in the world she 
 came. He knew little of female beauty (the late Lady
 
 202 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Hutchins had been plain-featured) and less of clothes ; 
 but three or four times in his life, at public functions, he 
 had mixed with the great ones of the land, and here 
 patently was one of them. Her speech, dress, bearing, 
 all proclaimed it ; her easy self-possession, too, and air 
 of authority. 
 
 " I saw that you had company," she answered, " and 
 I ran away. To tell you the truth I was a little afraid 
 of them ; that is to say, of some of them. But what was 
 Archelaus doing here ? " 
 
 The Lord Proprietor frowned. 
 
 " Did he come to apologise? Oh, but that is just one 
 of the reasons that brought me here ! You must not be 
 angry with Archelaus ; no, really, it was not his fault at 
 all, but mine." 
 
 " I think, ma'am," said the Lord Proprietor, " we are 
 talking at cross purposes." 
 
 " No, no, we are not," she corrected him briskly, with 
 a little laugh. " We are talking about that unhappy 
 scarecrow." She paused, as though checked by irrepres- 
 sible mirth, and he flushed hotly. " And no, again," she 
 went on, perceiving this ; " I was laughing at Archelaus 
 — poor fellow ! — overtaken here by his accusers. Did 
 they make it very painful for him ? " 
 
 " Even supposing him capable of shame — which I 
 doubt — I certainly do not think he suffered more than 
 he deserved." 
 
 " You are very much annoyed ? " asked Vashti, 
 suddenly serious. " Well, then, I am sorry. It was all 
 my suggestion. I meant it to be a little surprise for 
 the Commandant when he came home from church ; 
 though when he returned and heard what had happened, 
 he scolded me terribly." 
 
 " You will excuse me " — the Lord Proprietor drew
 
 VASHTI PLEADS FOR SAARON 203 
 
 himself up stiffly — " if I fail to see either where the 
 humour comes in, or why you — a stranger — unknown to 
 me even by name " 
 
 " Ah, to be sure ! My name is Cara." 
 
 " Then, as I was saying, Miss Cara, I fail to see " 
 
 "And you are quite right, of course," Vashti made 
 haste to agree. " I ought not to have done it. But 
 weren't you, too, a little bit to blame ? It wasn't very 
 nice of you, you know." 
 
 " I beg your pardon. What wasn't very nice of me ? " 
 
 " Why, to hurt their feelings ; and especially the 
 Commandant's. He is a poor man ; poor, and sensitive, 
 and easily hurt." 
 
 " You are talking to me in riddles. Miss Cara. I have 
 done nothing at all to hurt the Commandant's feelings." 
 
 " Not intentionally, of course. I told him — and I told 
 the sergeant too — that I was sure you never meant to 
 wound them. It would have been too cruel." 
 
 " But," protested the Lord Proprietor, " I have done 
 nothing, I tell you ! — nothing beyond presenting 
 Sergeant Archelaus with — with an article of attire of 
 which he stood badly in need. Miss Gabriel, some 
 weeks ago, drew my attention to the state of the poor 
 fellow's — er — wardrobe, and suggested that something 
 might be done." 
 
 " I thought so," Vashti nodded. " I daresay now," 
 she went on, after seeming to muse for a moment, " you 
 are one of those strong-minded men who find it hard 
 to understand how sensible people can worry over what 
 they put on their backs ! " 
 
 " That happens to be a constant source of wonder 
 with me," he confessed ; " and I have sometimes put it 
 in those precise words ; though for the life of me I can't 
 tell how you came to guess it."
 
 204 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " Never mind how I guessed it," said Vashti, smiling. 
 " The point is, that you take this lofty and very scornful 
 view of clothes, and yet you must have noticed that 
 many men of your acquaintance — men otherwise sensible 
 — take quite another; that in the City, for instance, a 
 hard felt hat is not usually worn with a frock-coat." 
 
 " Granted," said the Lord Proprietor ; " though I 
 could never understand why." 
 
 " And you have noticed that soldiers are even more 
 particular ; and the reason with them is perhaps a little 
 more easily grasped. Their uniform is a symbol, so to 
 speak. It stands for the service to which a good soldier 
 should be devoted. I grant that Archelaus neglects 
 his regimentals. But to neglect them and to be willing 
 to mix them up with civilian clothes are two very 
 different things. Perhaps you did not think of this ? 
 Perhaps you did not mean to hurt the Commandant's 
 feelings, but merely overlooked them ? " 
 
 " Really, now," answered Sir Caesar, " I should not 
 have supposed that it mattered what these men wore, in 
 such an out-of-the-world spot." 
 
 Vashti's eyes rested on him, for a second or two, in a 
 kind of wondering despair at his obtuseness. But she 
 controlled herself to reply quite patiently — 
 
 " At any rate, it was wrong of me to encourage the 
 men's resentment and suggest that foolish trick ; and I 
 came here this morning to beg your pardon." 
 
 He acknowledged this with a bow, but stood silent 
 for a moment, eyeing her. 
 
 " You are a relative of Major Vigoureux ? " he asked, 
 after a pause. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You are staying with him, I understand ? " 
 
 " No." Vashti shook her head, with a smile. " But
 
 VASHTI PLEADS FOR SAARON 205 
 
 I very much want you to forgive me," she went on ; " for 
 I have another favour to ask you." 
 
 Again he bowed slightly. " As for the — er — incident 
 we have been discussing, pray consider that — so far as 
 you are concerned — I dismiss it." He did so with a 
 slight wave of the hand. "You wish to ask me a 
 favour ? " 
 
 " I do. I came to plead with you : to say a word — 
 if you will hear it — on behalf of Eli Tregarthen, your 
 tenant on Saaron Island." 
 
 The Lord Proprietor started. " Are you at the 
 bottom of that also ? " he asked sharply. 
 
 Vashti's eyes opened wide in astonishment. 
 
 " I beg your pardon ? " she murmured. " I do not 
 understand " 
 
 " It seems to me," he caught her up, " that, for a total 
 stranger, you are losing remarkably little time." 
 
 "In what, sir?" she demanded, facing him fairly, 
 with a lift of her handsome chin. 
 
 " In subverting my authority, ma'am ; or, rather, in 
 prompting others to subvert it. . . . Though, to be sure," 
 he went on, in sarcastic wrath, " it may again be an 
 accident that I happened on Eli Tregarthen less than 
 an hour ago, and that he used very insolent language 
 to me in the presence of my agent." 
 
 " It was not only an accident," said Vashti slowly, 
 and with patent sincerity. " It was one that, since I 
 came here to urge his suit, I would have given a great 
 deal to prevent." She paused, and for a moment 
 seemed to be musing. " Must I understand, then, that 
 you refuse to hear a word in his favour ? " 
 
 " The man is a fool ! " Sir Caesar clasped his hands 
 behind him under his coat-tails, and paced the room. 
 " His insolence to me apart, he is a complete fool ! I
 
 2o6 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 offer him the choice of two farms — either one of them, 
 acre for acre, worth twice the rental of Saaron. ... I 
 simply cannot understand ! " 
 
 "No," said Vashti, with a little sigh, "you cannot 
 understand." 
 
 He had reached the fireplace, and wheeled round on 
 her, his back to the hearth and his legs a-straddle. 
 
 " What can I not understand ? " he demanded. 
 
 " Many things." Vashti met his eyes for a moment, 
 then turned her own to the window and the blue water- 
 ways beyond the terrace, beyond the massed tree-tops 
 of the pleasure grounds. " Many things, and the Islands 
 in particular. You did not understand just now that a 
 soldier, though condemned to stand sentry in a forgotten 
 outpost, can still be sensitive for the honour of his 
 service, because the root of his life lies there. You 
 cannot understand that the root of Eli Tregarthen's life 
 goes down into the soil he has tilled from childhood, as 
 his parents tilled it. To you Garrison Hill is a tumble- 
 down fort, and Saaron Island a barren rock ; yet you 
 call them yours, because you have purchased them. 
 And nevertheless — to do you justice — you are not one 
 who rates everything by its price in money. If you 
 were, I could beg you to take a higher rent for Saaron 
 and leave Eli Tregarthen undisturbed." 
 
 He shook his head. " The man pays me a fair rent ; 
 as much as I can conscientiously ask. I have a con- 
 science, Miss Cara, and a sense of responsibility. It is 
 not good that Tregarthen lets his children run wild 
 there, so far from school." 
 
 " And if, sir," she went on, " you are doing this for 
 the children's sake, I could promise you that there are 
 means to educate them better than any children on the 
 Islands. But the difficulty does not lie with the children.
 
 VASHTI PLEADS FOR SAARON 207 
 
 It lies in your sense of possession, which makes Saaron 
 Farm there" — she waved a hand — "an eyesore in the 
 view from this window, and simply because Eli 
 Tregarthen has crossed your will. You defend an 
 instinct of selfishness that takes about five minutes to 
 pass into a principle with any man who buys land. You 
 maintain the landlord's right to ordain the lives on your 
 estate, and command them to be as you think best ; nor 
 does it seem to you to affect your claim for power that 
 we understood and drew our nature from the Islands 
 for years before ever you came to hear of them." 
 
 " Radicalism, ma'am ! " 
 
 "Yes, sir. It is for the roots I plead, against your 
 claim that the surface gives all." 
 
 He thrust his hands under his coat-tails again, and 
 took a turn up and down the room. 
 
 " I do not affect to agree with you, Miss Cara," said 
 he, not looking towards her when she stood by the 
 French window, but stretching out his hand to the bell. 
 " But, as owner of these Islands, I desire to be just. I 
 desire also to understand these Islanders, of whom, it 
 appears, you know so much more than I. And if you 
 
 do me the honour to take luncheon with me " Here 
 
 he broke off, to ring at the bell-pull. " But I warn you 
 I am tenacious as well as curious, and shall demand to 
 know a little more of my lecturer," 
 
 He turned, and stood blinking. Vashti had dis- 
 appeared. The room was empty. 
 
 He took a step to the open window, sprang out upon 
 the terrace, and glanced to right and left. 
 
 The terrace, too, was empty. He hurried to the 
 stairway leading down through the shrubberies. Not 
 so much as the glimpse of a flying skirt rewarded him.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 THE COMMANDANTS CONSCIENCE 
 
 " 'T^HE Lord Proprietor to see you, sir !" 
 
 l_ Archelaus, presenting himself at the door of 
 the Commandant's office with a slightly flushed but 
 inscrutable face, drew aside and flattened himself against 
 the door-jamb to let Sir Caesar enter. 
 
 The Commandant closed the book in which he had 
 been adding up accounts which never came right, and 
 stood up in something of a flurry. He was dressed with 
 more than ordinary care. The lapels and collar of his 
 uniform-coat had been treated to a vigorous brushing. 
 In fact, he was arrayed for action : to step down the 
 hill in an hour's time, to call upon Mr. Fossell at 
 the bank and draw his pay, if any should be forth- 
 coming. 
 
 " Good-morning, Major ! " 
 
 "Good-morning, Sir Caesar." The Commandant 
 nodded towards a chair. 
 
 " I thank you." Sir Caesar set down his hat upon 
 the edge of the writing-table, drew off" his gloves, tossed 
 them into his hat, and seated himself. " I — er — called 
 in the first place to speak about an unfortunate — er — 
 incident that happened on Garrison Hill here last 
 Sunday." 
 
 " Ah," said the Commandant, " so you have heard 
 
 about it ? I am sorry." 
 
 208 ■
 
 THE COMMANDANT'S CONSCIENCE 209 
 
 " Sorry for what, sir ? " 
 
 " Sorry that anyone should have thought it worth 
 while to carry tales to you ; but also sorry for the 
 incident itself." 
 
 " It appears to me, Major Vigoureux, that the incident 
 demands some apology." 
 
 " Since it has come to your knowledge, Sir Caesar, I 
 think so, too ; and I have made it." 
 
 Sir Caesar crossed his legs and coughed to clear his 
 throat. "I think, my dear sir," said he, in a tone at 
 once slightly pompous and slightly nervous, " I really 
 think it's time that you and I came to an understanding : 
 that we — er — recognised, so to speak, the situation, and 
 played with the cards on the table. Do you agree with 
 me?" 
 
 " I might," answered the Commandant guardedly ; 
 " that is to say, if I understood." 
 
 " I acquit you, of course, of any active share in the 
 incident, and I am assured that Archelaus and Treacher 
 were no worse than accomplices. It appears that the 
 real culprit was a totally different person, and," he went 
 on, after a glance at the Commandant's face, which 
 betrayed nothing, " it may save time if I tell you that 
 she has confessed to me." 
 
 " Excuse me, I was not proposing to make any 
 remark." 
 
 " But who in the world is the young person ? " 
 
 The Commandant's eyebrows arched themselves 
 slightly. " She is a lady," he answered in a dry voice. 
 " If she omitted to tell you her name, the omission was 
 no doubt intentional, and she has carried her confession 
 just so far as she intended it to go." 
 
 "She called herself Cara; but the name tells me 
 nothing. Who is she? I agree with you as to her 
 14
 
 210 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 address and appearance : she is in every respect — er — 
 presentable. A relative, may I inquire ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 •'A friend, then? You will pardon me — a delicate 
 question to put, of course." 
 
 Again the Commandant's eyebrows went up slightly . 
 " She was my guest for a day or two," he answered. 
 
 " Was ? Then where in the world is she staying 
 now ? " 
 
 " If she did not tell you " began the Commandant, 
 
 but Sir Caesar interrupted him impatiently. 
 
 " Tell me ? Devil a bit of it, and that's partly why 
 I'm here. Vanished like a witch, begad ! while I was 
 turning to ring the bell, and where she went or where 
 she came from are mysteries alike to me." 
 
 " Why, then," the Commandant pursued, in a steady, 
 musing voice, " it seems to follow that, even if I knew, 
 I have not her permission to tell." 
 
 The Lord Proprietor uncrossed and recrossed his legs 
 irritably. " Come, come, Vigoureux, this will hardly do. 
 Will it, now ? I put it to you as a man of the world. 
 No doubt it's all innocent enough, but folks will talk. 
 And, after all, I'm responsible for any — er — scandal 
 affecting the Islands. Hey ? " 
 
 The Commandant rose with a sudden flush on his 
 face. 
 
 "Scandal, Sir Caesar? Oh, to be sure, I cannot 
 understand you." 
 
 " Tut-tut ! " The Lord Proprietor smiled. " Of course, 
 we know there's nothing in it. A young lady — youngish, 
 at least — and you old enough to be her father. But, all 
 the same, tongues will wag." 
 
 " And they have been wagging." The Commandant, 
 after a short turn across the room and back, stood over
 
 THE COMMANDANTS CONSCIENCE 211 
 
 him, his hands crossed under his coat-tails. " But yours, 
 sir, is the only one that has dared to wag in my 
 presence." 
 
 " Sir ! " The Lord Proprietor jumped to his feet. 
 
 " You have put many humiliations upon me, Sir 
 Caesar; and because they affected me only, I have 
 endured them. But in this you go too far." 
 
 The Lord Proprietor, on the verge of an angry retort, 
 checked himself, with a short laugh. 
 
 " I refuse to lose my temper with you," said he. 
 " You are unreasonable. You misconceive me as 
 imputing scandal when, as a matter of fact, I was trying 
 to assure you that I rejected the imputation. For me, 
 the disparity in age alone " 
 
 The Commandant, with a wave of his hand to the 
 door, turned away wearily. 
 
 " I merely thought it right to warn you," pursued Sir 
 Csesar, taking heart of grace as his opponent appeared 
 to weaken, " that others may be less charitable. And 
 they look to me. I think — I really think — you might 
 consider the delicacy of my position ; that I am — er — 
 ultimately responsible for the good name of these 
 Islands." 
 
 But here, as he paused, hemming and hawing on the 
 point to continue, he looked up with a start; for the 
 Commandant had wheeled about suddenly, and stood 
 over him, and the Commandant's eyes were dangerous. 
 
 " Sir Caesar " — the Commandant controlled his voice 
 with an effort, for it shook a little — " in the last few 
 minutes some things have been made plain to me which 
 were hitherto obscure. I have wondered sometimes, 
 here in these forsaken barracks, at actions of yours 
 which seemed deliberately calculated to annoy. Saving 
 my own small personal dignity, of which from indolence
 
 312 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 I have been too careless, I have reserved nothing of 
 my old importance in these Islands which, before you 
 purchased them, I had governed. Men, even the least 
 assuming, do not forfeit all power, all consideration, 
 without a wrench, and I am but human. I relinquished 
 them, and without the help of a single kind word from 
 you, a single expression of regret, by which the sacri- 
 fice might at least have been mitigated. I wondered. 
 Later, when, so far were you from aiding me, you heaped 
 one small humiliation upon another, I concluded that 
 I must have had the misfortune to incur your personal 
 dislike, and told myself, after searching for the cause 
 and finding none, that personal dislikes are usually 
 inexplicable. But now I see that I have been doing 
 you an injustice ; that your affronts were not considered ; 
 that you have all along, likely enough, been entirely 
 unconscious of offence ; that, in short, you are as 
 Heaven made you, and I cannot hold a quarrel with 
 any man's mere defects of breeding. I recognise the 
 mistake and apologise for it. I see now that you are 
 obtuse — that and nothing more. But since your 
 obtuseness wounds more than you can possibly divine, 
 and since in this instance it injures a lady, I shall ask 
 you to pay my poor quarters the last respect you owe 
 them, and quit them without further discussion." 
 
 He stepped to his writing-table and struck on a small 
 hand-bell. Promptly on the summons Sergeant Arche- 
 laus appeared in the doorway ; so promptly, indeed, 
 that he might have found it hard, under cross-examina- 
 tion, to rebut the charge of having stood listening 
 outside. 
 
 The Lord Proprietor, however, was in no condition 
 to put a searching question. He arose, gasping, his 
 eyes rolling from the Commandant to Archelaus and
 
 THE COMMANDANT'S CONSCIENCE 213 
 
 back. He felt for his hat like a man groping in the 
 dark, clutched its brim, and set it on his head with an 
 experimental air, as though it would not have entirely 
 surprised him to find his feet in the place of his 
 head. 
 
 " I suppose," he stammered, " it has occurred to you 
 that you may pay for this ? " 
 
 "It occurred to me," answered the Commandant, 
 coolly and amiably, " that you might threaten it." 
 
 " You shall, by God ! " 
 
 The Commandant bowed. 
 
 "You shall certainly repent this, sir!" The Lord 
 Proprietor crammed his hat on his head. 
 
 " May I ask you to observe that my servant is stand- 
 ing in the doorway ? " 
 
 Sir Caesar turned, shot a glance at Archelaus, and 
 for an instant appeared to be on the point of including 
 master and man in one denunciation. But either he 
 thought better of it or his rage choked him. With a 
 final tap on the crown of his hat, to settle it firmly on 
 his brows, he strode past the rigid figure by the threshold 
 and out into the open air. 
 
 He had never been so outraged ! For fifty or a 
 hundred yards, as he descended the hill, his fury almost 
 blinded him. His face was congested, the back of his 
 neck swollen and purple, as though apoplexy threatened. 
 His ears showed red as a turkey's wattles. He stumbled 
 on the ill-paved path. What 1 To be lectured thus by 
 a man whose continued residence in the Island was a 
 public scandal — a fellow who, past all usefulness, lived 
 on in lazy desuetude, content to take the taxpayers' 
 money while doing nothing in return ! And the worst 
 — the gall, the wormwood of it — was that this despised 
 foe had silenced him — nay, had silenced him almost
 
 214 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 contemptuously. " But wait a bit, my fine fellow ! " swore 
 the Lord Proprietor, blundering down the hill. " Wait 
 until we hear what the War Office has to say about your 
 precious Garrison ; or until, failing satisfaction there, I 
 get a question asked in Parliament about you ! " 
 
 Could the Lord Proprietor have looked back at this 
 moment into the room where sat the victorious enemy, 
 he might have been in some measure consoled. 
 
 The Commandant, having dismissed Archelaus with 
 a wave of the hand, waited while the door closed, and 
 dropping into the chair before his writing-table, bowed 
 his head upon his hands. . . . Oh, it is easy to talk 
 lightly of riches, and of the power that riches give ! But 
 in this world it is not so easy for a man with just one 
 penny in his pocket to stand up against an enemy 
 solidly backed by a banking account. He feels that 
 though his cause be right and his conscience clear, his 
 position is precarious : that the world, if it knew the 
 truth, would regard him almost as an impostor. The 
 feeling, maybe, is unreasonable, the fear cowardly ; but 
 there it is, and it had cost the Commandant all his 
 pluck to face the encounter out. Moreover, his 
 conscience was not clear. 
 
 Sir Csesar, too, had (all unwittingly) planted an arrow 
 and left it to rankle. " Old enough to be her father ! " 
 The Commandant shut his lips hard upon the pain. 
 He could not expel it : he knew it would awake again 
 in the watches of the night : but for the present he must 
 forget or probably at least ignore it. He had a second 
 ordeal to face this day, and must rally all his forces. 
 
 As he sat there for a minute or two, his face resting 
 on his hands, his spirit abandoned to weakness — to the 
 luxury, almost, of reaction — he heard the steady ticking
 
 THE COMMANDANT'S CONSCIENCE 215 
 
 of the clock on the chimney-piece behind him. He 
 counted the strokes idly, and then all of a sudden they 
 recalled him to the present. He pulled himself together, 
 stood up, and, reaching down a clothes-brush from its 
 hook beside the door, walked over to the chimney-piece 
 and to a small mirror that stood behind the clock. 
 
 " Old enough to be her father ! " Again, as he caught 
 sight of his face in the glass, the smart revived : but 
 again he repressed it, and fell to brushing his worn tunic 
 with extreme care. It had always been his practice to 
 dress punctiliously before going into action, even on 
 dark nights in front of Sevastopol, where all niceties of 
 dress were lost at once in the slush of the batteries. 
 His forage-cap received almost as careful a brushing as 
 his tunic : and from his cap he turned his attention to 
 the knees of his trousers and to his boots, one of which 
 was cracked, albeit not noticeably. He had half a mind 
 to black its edges over with pen and ink, but refrained. 
 Somehow it suggested imposture, and to-day he winced 
 sensitively away from the first hint of imposture. He 
 must walk downhill delicately, like Agag. To-morrow 
 Harvey, the Garland Town cobbler, would repair the 
 damage with a couple of stitches, at the cost of one penny : 
 and the Commandant reflected with a melancholy smile 
 that he possessed precisely that sum. 
 
 His toilet complete, he took a last look in the mirror 
 to assure himself that his face betrayed none of the 
 anxiety eating at his heart. It was paler than ordinary, 
 but calm. He drew a long breath, and walked out to 
 the front door. At his feet the chimneys of the small 
 town sent up their mid-day smoke ; beyond, the Atlantic 
 twinkled with its innumerable smile. The hour was 
 come. As he stepped out upon the road he cast a 
 glance to right and left along his deserted batteries.
 
 2i6 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 and answered the twinkle of Ocean whimsically, ruefully. 
 If only, as an artilleryman, he could have summoned 
 Mr. Fossell's bank by a dropping shot ! This business 
 of hand-to-hand assault belonged by rights to the 
 infantry ! 
 
 Mr. Fossell stood behind the counter in conference 
 with a junior clerk, and the sunshine pouring through 
 the windows — the only plate-glass windows in Garland 
 Town — gilded the dome of Mr. Fossell's bald head. As 
 the Commandant entered, Mr. Fossell looked up and 
 nodded pleasantly, in a neighbourly way, albeit with a 
 touch of ironical interrogation. He had heard gossip 
 from his friend Pope of the doings on Garrison Hill, 
 and, so far as he allowed himself to be jocose, he meant 
 his glance to be interpreted, " Well, you are a pretty 
 fellow ! And pray what account are you going to give 
 of yourself?" But very different thoughts preoccupied 
 the Commandant, and his fears took alarm. 
 
 " Good-morning," said the Commandant, and forced 
 a smile. " You have been expecting me, I hope ? " 
 
 " Dear, dear ! " Mr. Fossell affected surprise. " You 
 don't tell me that pay-day has come round again 
 already?" This, again, was a form of pleasantry which 
 he repeated month after month ; but to-day he slightly 
 over-acted it. 
 
 "The — the money is here?" stammered the Com- 
 mandant. 
 
 "My dear Major, I hope so — I sincerely hope so," 
 Mr. Fossell answered, with a humorous look around 
 him. " I do most sincerely trust we may be able to 
 meet your demand for — let me see, fifteen-eighteen-six, 
 is it not ? — without being forced to put up the shutters." 
 Mr. Fossell chuckled quietly.
 
 THE COMMANDANT'S CONSCIENCE 217 
 
 The Commandant drew a long breath. 
 
 " Always supposing," resumed Mr. Fossell, " that the 
 draft is in order, as usual ; on which point, to tell you 
 the truth, I have been too busy to satisfy myself. But 
 the paper arrived two days ago, and is in my office — if 
 you will excuse me for a moment." 
 
 He stepped towards a door at the back, panelled with 
 frosted glass, opened it, and disappeared into his office. 
 The Commandant waited. Three minutes passed. 
 
 "Very fine weather, sir, for the time of year," said 
 the clerk, blotting an entry and looking up from his 
 ledger. 
 
 " Eh ? Oh, certainly . . . yes, very fine indeed." The 
 Commandant recalled himself with a painful effort. 
 
 " And the glass steady as a rock." The clerk closed 
 a smaller book at his elbow, ran and replaced it in a line 
 of similar volumes on a shelf above the desk behind 
 him. " I saw you out, sir, in your boat, the day before 
 yesterday, to the west of Saaron ; fishing for bass, or so 
 I took the liberty of guessing." 
 
 " For bass ? . . . Yes ; oh, most decidedly." 
 
 " Knowing fish, the bass ! " hazarded the young man, 
 combing his side-locks with his pen and carefully be- 
 stowing it behind his ear. " You found the water a bit 
 too clear, sir, I expect ? " 
 
 "So far as I remember," began the Commandant, 
 and paused. (What on earth was delaying Fossell ?) 
 
 " You will excuse me, sir ; but might I ask what bait 
 you employ as a rule ? " 
 
 The Commandant answered that for preference he 
 used sand-eels. The clerk replied that sand-eels took 
 some getting ; and that, if the remark wouldn't be taken 
 amiss, it was all very well to talk of sand-eels when you 
 were in a position to employ a couple of men to spend
 
 2i8 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 half a day in netting them for you ; but that for a young 
 chap in his position, sand-eels were out of the question. 
 
 "There's the bank-hours, to begin with," he wound 
 up lucidly ; " and, besides, when you've caught 'em 
 they're the most perishable bait going." 
 
 The Commandant incoherently promised to reserve 
 a portion of his next catch, and to send Archelaus with a 
 creelful ; all this with his eyes wandering in desperation 
 to the glass door. The young man was profuse in thanks. 
 
 " You will excuse my discussing sport with you, sir ? 
 Sport, they say, puts all men on a level ; though, of 
 course, I should not dream of claiming " 
 
 But at this point the glass door opened, and Mr. 
 Fossell emerged briskly, holding what appeared to be a 
 fair-sized stone. 
 
 " How will you take it ? " he asked, depositing this 
 upon the counter. 
 
 " I beg your pardon ? " the Commandant stammered, 
 his eyes riveted on the stone. 
 
 " Notes or gold ? " Mr. Fossell picked the specimen 
 up, and rubbed it gently with his sleeve. " Now, that's 
 a queer thing, eh ? My brother-in-law sent it to me last 
 week, and I've been using it for a paper-weight, not 
 being a scientific man. But just you look into it. He 
 tells me there are hundreds lying about where he lives — 
 Ogwell, the place is, in Devonshire, just behind Newton 
 Abbot — and that they're called madrepores. He's a 
 humorous fellow, too, is my brother-in-law. You see 
 the joke, of course ? " 
 
 " I can't say that I do, exactly," the Commandant 
 confessed. 
 
 " Good gracious ! Fossil — Fossell : this is a fossil, 
 you see, and I'm called Fossell : and so he sends it to 
 me. He has made a good deal of fun out of my
 
 THE COMMANDANT'S CONSCIENCE 219 
 
 name before now, in his humorous way. Not that I 
 mind, of course." 
 
 " I daresay not. Did you say that the papers were 
 all right ? " 
 
 " The papers ? . . . Yes, of course, the papers are all 
 right. Will you take it in notes or gold ? " 
 
 "In notes, if you please." The Commandant caught 
 at the edge of the counter, while his heart leapt, and the 
 bank premises seemed to whirl around him. 
 
 " Fifteen-eighteen-six. ... Be so good as to verify it, 
 if you please," said Mr. Fossell, counting out the coins — 
 the blessed coins ! " But I want you just to take a look 
 into the thing. Looks like a piece of coral, eh ? See 
 the delicate lines of it? And my brother-in-law tells 
 me it was once alive — a kind of fish — and got itself 
 embedded in this piece of limestone because it was too 
 lazy to move. A lesson in that " — Mr. Fossell wagged 
 his head sagely — " if we choose to take it ! To be sure, 
 it happened thousands of years ago ; but there it is — 
 and here are we. For my part, I don't look at things 
 humorously like my brother-in-law. I like to find a 
 serious moral where I can." 
 
 The Commandant counted the coins and dropped 
 them into his pocket. Their weight seemed to make 
 a man of him again. He stood again solidly, upon 
 solid earth. He bent and affected to examine the 
 madrepore. 
 
 Mr. Fossell bent also. He was on the point of asking 
 — in a low voice, that the clerk might not overhear — 
 for an explanation of Miss Gabriel's gossip. But at 
 this juncture a client entered, and the Commandant 
 escaped. He went up the hill with a new centre of 
 gravity : so different is a load in the pocket from a load 
 on the heart.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE GUITAR AND THE CASEMENT 
 
 " A PARCEL for you, sir ! " 
 
 1\ Sergeant Archelaus had spied the Commandant 
 coming up the hill, and met him on the barrack doorstep 
 with the news. 
 
 " A parcel ? " The Commandant had walked straight 
 from the bank to Mr. Tregaskis' shop, and there paid 
 his account ; but he had made no purchases. " There 
 must be some mistake, Archelaus; I have ordered 
 nothing in the town." 
 
 " From the mainland, sir." 
 
 " God bless my soul ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; and marked * Fragile ' ; a good-sized box, 
 but uncommon light to handle. The steamer brought 
 it across this morning, and I've carried it into the office 
 and placed hammer and chisel handy." 
 
 " Now what in the world can this mean ? " asked the 
 Commandant, a minute later, after studying the box and 
 its label. He turned to Archelaus, who had followed 
 him into the office in a state of suppressed excitement. 
 " It is certainly addressed to me ; and yet — it must be 
 half a dozen years, Archelaus, since anyone sent me a 
 parcel from the mainland." 
 
 " There's but one way to discover," said Archelaus, 
 picking up the chisel. " Shall I open it, sir ? " 
 
 " No ; give it to me," The Commandant took the
 
 THE GUITAR AND THE CASEMENT 321 
 
 tools from him and easily prised open the lid, for the 
 scantling was light, almost flimsy. Within lay an 
 object in an oilskin case ; in shape resembling a 
 violin, and yet somewhat larger than a violin. 
 
 Yes, certainly it was a musical instrument ; and the 
 Commandant had no sooner made sure of this than, 
 with his hand on the string that tied the wrapper, he 
 paused. 
 
 " It is evident, Archelaus " — his tone betrayed some 
 disappointment — "that this parcel belongs to Miss Cara. 
 Having no address of her own that could be given with 
 safety, she has ordered it to be sent to me." 
 
 " Ben't you even going to open and take a look at 
 it?" asked Archelaus, as his master slowly replaced 
 it in the box. 
 
 " I think not. . . . Miss Cara will call for it, no doubt, 
 since no doubt she has been watching for the steamer's 
 arrival." 
 
 Archelaus withdrew, reluctantly, not without a sense 
 of ill-usage. Nor, as it proved, was his grievance alto- 
 gether groundless. The Commandant stood for a 
 minute or so in a brown study, eyeing the box. 
 Then, his curiosity overmastering him, he drew the 
 parcel forth again ; turned it over in his hands ; and 
 very slowly undid the strings, which were of green 
 ribbon. 
 
 The wrapper fell apart, disclosing a guitar. 
 
 The instrument was clearly an old one, and as clearly 
 of considerable value, being inlaid with tortoiseshell 
 and mother-of-pearl in delicate arabesques that must 
 have cost its unknown maker months, if not years, 
 of patient labour. Its varnish, smooth and transparent 
 as finest glass, belonged to the same date, and had been 
 laid on, if not by the same hand, by one no less careful,
 
 222 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Something more than a craftsman's pride had surely 
 inspired the exquisite workmanship, the deft and joyous 
 pattern that chased itself in and out as though smiling 
 at its own intricacy. A gift for the artist's mistress, 
 perhaps ? Or a toy for some dead-and-gone princess ? 
 . . . Yet it had been played upon, and recently. One 
 or two of its relaxed strings showed evidences of fraying ; 
 and the sender had tied a small packet of new strings 
 around the neck. 
 
 The Commandant, after peering into its pattern for a 
 while, held the guitar out at arm's length ; and, holding 
 it so, broke into a short laugh — at the thought that this 
 thing had been sent to him. 
 
 Yet, here it was. Undoubtedly it belonged to Vashti, 
 and his heart leapt at the thought that she would be 
 coming to fetch it. For three days he had been missing 
 her. It seemed that she had chosen to pass out of his 
 life as suddenly, as waywardly, as she had invaded it ; 
 that, crossing the threshold of Saaron Farm, she had 
 closed its door upon him and upon a brief episode to 
 be remembered by him henceforth as a dream only — 
 a too happy dream. 
 
 "Ah, had we never met — or, having met, 
 Had I been wiser or thy heart less wild ! " 
 
 He had pulled home that Sunday night, to brood alone 
 over a half-dead fire ; and, brooding there, had surmised 
 what the morrow made certain — that she had taken with 
 her yet more than she had brought; that even what 
 colour, what small interest, had formerly cheered the 
 daily round on Garrison Hill and made it tolerable, 
 was now gone out of it for ever. 
 
 Well, for good or ill, this, at all events, would need
 
 THE GUITAR AND THE CASEMENT 223 
 
 to be endured but a little while longer. His discharge 
 was in sight. He had posted his letter. 
 
 He did not tell himself that but for Vashti it had 
 never been written. Or, if this crossed his mind, it 
 suggested no more than gratitude. Quite unwittingly 
 she had helped him play the man. He had done the 
 right thing, let follow what might. 
 
 He could not force his mind upon possible con- 
 sequences, to face them or to fret over them. Between 
 this present hour and them, one thought, like a bright 
 angel, stood in the way — Vashti was coming ! 
 
 Ah, but when ? 
 
 He spent the afternoon in his office, sorting out useless 
 correspondence, clearing desks, drawers, pigeon-holes, of 
 the accumulations of years, unconsciously preparing for 
 the day of his discharge. It kept his thoughts employed, 
 and he worked hard ; reading through the dusty papers, 
 tearing them up, consigning some to the waste-paper 
 basket, others to the fire, which by and by grew sullen 
 under its task. 
 
 Twilight fell. She would come, then, after dusk, and 
 secretly — mooring her boat in the hiding-place under 
 the Keg of Butter Battery, away from inquisitive eyes. 
 At half-past five Archelaus brought him his tea. At 
 six, having washed and refreshed himself, the Com- 
 mandant fell to work again more doggedly. Only now 
 and again he broke off for a few moments to listen. 
 But Vashti did not come. 
 
 He worked until half-past nine. He heard the clock 
 strike the half-hour from the chimney-piece, and looked 
 up almost in dismay. It was certain now that she 
 would not come. Of a sudden, as though to hide from 
 him the full measure of his disappointment, as he had 
 been hiding from himself the full eagerness of his hopes.
 
 224 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 a loathing took him — a savage scorn of his useless 
 labour. He stared at his grimed hands with a shiver 
 of disgust, and, rising impatiently, swept together the 
 fragments of paper strewn about the floor, tossed them 
 upon the dying fire, and went off to his room for another 
 wash. 
 
 She would not come ; and there remained yet an 
 hour between him and his usual bed-time. Returning 
 to his office, he met Archelaus on the stairs. 
 
 " Going to bed, eh ? " asked the Commandant. 
 
 " Ay, sir," Archelaus answered, and paused for that 
 remark on the weather which, in the Islands, always 
 goes with Good-morning or Good-night. " Glass don't 
 vary at all, and wind don't vary much ; though, seemin' 
 to me, 'tis risin' a little. Still in the nor'-west it is ; and 
 here ends another day." 
 
 The Commandant looked at him sharply, but passed 
 downstairs with no more than a " Good-night." So 
 Archelaus, too, was feeling life to be barren, empty? 
 Archelaus had bewailed the past before now, and the 
 vanished glories of the Garrison, but never the tedium 
 of his present lot. 
 
 The Commandant, on re-entering his office, groped 
 along the mantel-shelf for his pipe, which he had not 
 smoked since the night of Vashti's arrival. It lay there 
 among a litter of notes and memoranda that had escaped 
 the afternoon's holocaust. He took it up wistfully, and, 
 searching in a jar at the end of the shelf, found yet a 
 few crumbs of tobacco left. Scraped together with 
 care, they all but filled the bowl. He lit the dry 
 stuff from a spill — the last scrap of paper to be 
 sacrificed — and sank into his worn arm-chair. 
 
 It was in his mind to map out his domestic expendi- 
 ture for the coming month ; for the settlement with Mr.
 
 THE GUITAR AND THE CASEMENT 225 
 
 Tregaskis had made a desperate inroad upon his funds 
 in hand, and he gravely doubted that even with the 
 severest pinching he would be able to remit the usual 
 allowance to his sister-in-law. The question had to be 
 faced ... he was not afraid of it . . . and yet his 
 thoughts shirked it and wandered away, despite all 
 effort to rally them. " Old enough to be her father ! " — 
 He had foreseen that these words would awake to 
 torment him ; but he was not prepared for the in- 
 sistency with which the pain stirred, now when long 
 toil should have deadened it — now when, as the clock 
 told him that his hopes for to-day were vain, he realised 
 how fondly all the while he had been building on 
 them. 
 
 " Old enough to be her father ! " For distraction 
 from the maddening refrain he rose up, drew the guitar 
 again from its box, unwrapped it, and took it back to 
 his chair for another examination. He noticed the 
 wrapper as he laid it aside. It was new; the material 
 new, the stitching new. She had sent for the instrument 
 with a purpose, and the oilskin case had been made 
 with a purpose. . . . How went the old song? — 
 
 " Were I but young for thee, as I hae been, 
 We should have been gallopin' doun in yon green, 
 And linkin' it owre the lily-white lea ; 
 And ah, gin I were but young for thee ! " 
 
 Of a sudden he sat up stiffly, at the sound of a tap- 
 tap on the window-pane behind him. 
 
 Yes, decidedly the sound came from the window. 
 The wind — as Archelaus had said — was rising; but 
 this was no wind. Someone stood outside there in the 
 darkness. He sprang up, stepped to the casement and 
 threw it open. For a moment his eyes distinguished 
 
 15
 
 226 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 nothing. He peered again and drew back a little as a 
 figure stepped close to the sill, out of the night. 
 
 "You!" 
 
 "Who else?" answered Vashti, with a little laugh. 
 " Give me your hand, please." He stretched it out 
 obediently, and she took it and clambered in over the 
 sill. 
 
 " It is cold outside," she announced, looking around 
 her with something between a shiver and a deliberate 
 shake of her cloak. It was the same furred cloak in 
 which she had come ashore from the Milo. Spray 
 clung to it; and there was spray, too, on her hair. 
 It shone in the lamplight. 
 
 " The wind has been getting up ever since sundown," 
 she announced. " I have had a pretty stiff crossing ; 
 but the boat is all right, under the Keg of Butter." 
 Then, as he still stared at her: "You don't keep too 
 warm a fire, my friend." 
 
 *' I had given you up, and was getting ready for 
 bed." 
 
 " Then you expected me ? The guitar has come ? " 
 Before he could answer she had caught sight of it, and 
 picking it up from the arm-chair where the Commandant 
 had dropped it, settled herself and laid the instrument 
 across her lap. 
 
 " Also," she went on, throwing back her cloak, while 
 she examined and tightened the strings, " I will confess 
 that your guest is hungry." She looked up with a laugh. 
 " In fact I came not only to fetch my guitar, but to sup 
 with you and tell you of my doings." 
 
 The Commandant turned to the door. His face 
 had suddenly grown grey and desperate. 
 
 As the latch fell behind him, Vashti glanced over 
 her shoulder, put the guitar aside, and arose to stir
 
 THE GUITAR AND THE CASEMENT 227 
 
 the fire. The poker plunged into a heap of flaked 
 ashes. " Paper ? But the whole grate is choked with 
 it. And, what is more, the whole room smells of burnt 
 paper." 
 
 She turned about, and, with her back to the hearth, 
 surveyed the room suspiciously. Her gaze fell upon 
 the waste-paper basket, heaped high and brimming 
 over with torn documents. This puzzled her again, 
 and her brow contracted in a frown. But just then 
 she caught the sound of the Commandant's footsteps 
 returning along the flagged passage, and bent anew over 
 the fire. 
 
 The Commandant appeared in the doorway with a 
 plate of ship's biscuit in his hand, and on his face a flush 
 of extreme embarrassment. 
 
 " Do you know, I really am ashamed of myself," he 
 began, with a stammer, holding out the plate. " But 
 Archelaus has gone to bed, and — and this is all I can 
 find." 
 
 " Capital ! " she answered gaily, " Let us break into 
 the back premises and forage. After my burglarious 
 entry that will just suit my mood." 
 
 " I'm afraid " he began, and hesitated. " I am 
 
 very much afraid " There was unmistakable trouble 
 
 in his voice, and again he came to a halt. 
 
 Vashti straightened herself up. Her eyes were on 
 him as he set the plate down on the table, but he 
 avoided them, attempting a small forced laugh. The 
 laugh was a dead failure. Silence followed it, and in 
 the silence he felt horribly aware that she was grasping 
 the humiliating truth ; that, moment by moment, the 
 scales were falling from the eyes that still persistently 
 sought his. 
 
 The silence was broken by the noise of the poker
 
 228 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 falling against the fender. He started, met her gaze 
 for a moment, and again averted his, 
 
 " You don't mean to say " 
 
 Her voice trailed off, in pitiful surmise. Silence 
 again ; and in the silence he heard her sink back into 
 the arm-chair — and knew no more until, at the sound 
 of one strangling sob, terrible to hear, he found him- 
 self standing at the arm of her chair and bending over 
 
 her. 
 
 " My dear " He but used the familiar Island 
 
 speech. " My dear, you must not ! Please ! " 
 
 " And I have been living on you, ruining you ! " 
 
 " My dear, it is all paid for. It was paid for to-day. 
 If ever a man was glad of his guest, I am he." 
 
 But she bent her head over the arm of the chair, 
 sobbing silently. He saw the heave of her shoulders, 
 and it afflicted him beyond words. But, though he 
 longed, he dared not put out a hand to comfort her. 
 
 "You mistake — yes, you mistake. It has been 
 nothing. I was only too glad," he kept stammering 
 weakly. 
 
 She pulled herself together and sat upright. A 
 moment her tear-stained eyes met his, then turned to 
 the fire, which had begun to dance again on its small 
 heap of coals. 
 
 "Now I see," said she, resting an elbow on the arm 
 of the chair and so supporting her chin, while she stared 
 resolutely into the blaze. She had resumed command 
 of her voice. " Ah, pardon me, now I understand many 
 things that puzzled me at first. I — I am not a fool in 
 money matters." She hesitated. 
 
 " I know you are not," he assured her gently. 
 " And that, if you will understand, increased the small 
 difficulty."
 
 THE GUITAR AND THE CASEMENT 229 
 
 " Yes, I understand. But somehow — it was a long 
 time since I had been acquainted with — with " 
 
 " Want," he suggested. *' Since you know the worst, 
 do not hurt me more than you are obliged." 
 
 " God knows," she said, after an interval of musing, 
 " I would hurt you last of all living men. Will you be 
 kind to me, and trust me ? " 
 
 " On conditions." 
 
 " Yes ? " She glanced up with a strange eagerness in 
 her eyes, " What conditions ? " 
 
 " That you do not pity me at all ; that you believe I 
 have suffered nothing, or only such pain as has edged 
 the joy of serving you." 
 
 She looked away and into the fire. " You make me 
 very proud," she said. " Yes ; I can easily grant your 
 conditions. I could not pity a man who practised so 
 noble a courtesy." 
 
 The Commandant shook his head with a whimsical 
 smile. " My dear," he answered, " it's undeniably 
 pleasant to stand well in your opinion ; but I am 
 not used to compliments, and you run some risk of 
 making me a vain fellow. You asked me to trust you. 
 With what?" 
 
 " With the reason why you are poor." 
 
 " That," said he, " can be very simply told." Briefly, 
 in the simplest possible style, he told her of his 
 brother's death, and how his sister-in-law and her 
 family had been left in destitution. "You see," he 
 wound up, " it's just an ordinary sad little tale. 
 Cases of that kind happen daily, all the world over ; 
 one must be thankful when they happen within reach 
 of help." 
 
 " Is your sister-in-law thankful ? " asked Vashti 
 sharply. " But there ! " she added, as he stared at her,
 
 230 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 obviously at a loss to find the question relevant. " You 
 are quite right. It really does not matter two pins 
 whether she is thankful or not." She turned her eyes 
 to the fire again and sat musing. " But I am glad to 
 have heard the story," she went on, after a while. " It 
 explains — oh, many things ! I have been blind, in- 
 considerate ; but I am seeing light at last. Do you 
 know, my friend, that at first I found a great change 
 in you ? " 
 
 " Why — bless me ! — you had only seen me once before 
 in your life, and then for two minutes ! " 
 
 " Listen, please, and don't interrupt ! I found a great 
 change in you, and the reason of it seemed to lie all 
 on the surface. You had brought ambitions to the 
 Islands, but you had forgotten them. You kept your 
 kindness, your good-nature, but you had forgotten all 
 purpose in life. In all except a few personal habits 
 you were neglecting yourself; and this neglect came 
 of your being content to live purposeless in this for- 
 gotten hole, and draw your pay without asking questions. 
 Forgive me, but I seemed to see all this, and it drove 
 me half wild." 
 
 He bowed his head. " I know it did," he answered 
 very slowly, " and that is how you came to save 
 me. 
 
 " Is — is this another story ? " she asked, after eyeing 
 him a moment or two in bewilderment. 
 
 "If you will listen to it." He drew his writing- 
 chair over to the fireside, and then, facing her across 
 the hearth, he told her the second story as simply as 
 he had told the first, but more nervously, leaning 
 forward with his elbows on his knees, now and again 
 spreading out his hands to the fire on which he kept 
 his eyes bent during most of the recital. Vashti, too.
 
 THE GUITAR AND THE CASEMENT 231 
 
 leaned forward, intent on his face. One hand gripped 
 the arm of her chair — so tightly that its pressure drove 
 the blood from the finger-tips, while the wonder in her 
 eyes changed to something like awe. " And so," the 
 Commandant concluded, " the letter has gone. I posted 
 it to-day." 
 
 " What will happen ? " 
 
 " I really cannot tell." Without lifting his gaze from 
 the fire he shook his head dubiously. "But, at the 
 worst, the girls are grown into women now. They 
 have been excellently well educated — their mother 
 saw to that and made a great point of it from the 
 first — and by this time they should be able to help, 
 if not to support her entirely." 
 
 " Man ! Man ! Will you drive me mad ? " 
 
 Vashti sprang from the chair. 
 
 " I have been unjust. I have been worse than a 
 fool 1 " She flung back her cloak, and, clasping her 
 hands behind her, man - fashion, fell to pacing the 
 room to and fro. The Commandant stood and stared. 
 Something in her voice puzzled him completely. In 
 its tone, though she accused herself, there vibrated a low 
 note of triumph. She was genuinely remorseful — why, 
 he could not guess. Yet, when she halted before him, 
 he saw that her eyes were glad as well as dim. She 
 held out a hand. 
 
 " Forgive me, my friend ! " 
 
 " Do you know," stammered the Commandant, as he 
 took it, " I should esteem it a favour to be told whether 
 I am standing on my head or my heels ! " 
 
 How long he held her hand he was never afterwards 
 able to tell ; for at its electric touch the room began 
 to swim around him. But this could not have lasted 
 for long; because, as he looked into her eyes, still
 
 232 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 seeking an explanation, she broke off the half-hysterical 
 laugh that answered him, and pulled her hand away 
 sharply at a sound behind them. 
 
 Someone was throwing gravel against the window. 
 
 " Commandant ! " a voice hailed from the darkness 
 without. 
 
 For an instant the two stood holding their breath. 
 Then with a second glance at the window, to make sure 
 that the curtain was drawn, Vashti tip-toed swiftly to 
 the door, catching up the guitar on her way. 
 
 " Hi ! Commandant ! Are you waking or sleeping in 
 there ? " 
 
 The Commandant stepped to the curtain. Vashti 
 slipped out into the passage. The door closed upon 
 her as he pulled the curtain aside for a second time that 
 night and opened the casement. 
 
 " Who's there ? " 
 
 " So you are awake ! " answered the voice of Mr. 
 Rogers. " May I come in ? " And, silence being 
 apparently taken for consent, a foot and leg followed 
 the voice across the window-sill.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 SUSPICIONS 
 
 THE foot and leg were followed by Mr. Rogers' 
 entire person, and Mr. Rogers, having thus made 
 good his entrance, stood blinking, with an apologetic 
 laugh. "You'll excuse me — but I took it for granted 
 the door was barred, and, seeing a glimmer of light in 
 the window here " 
 
 " Anything wrong ? " asked the Commandant. 
 
 "Nothing's wrong, I hope" — Mr. Rogers stepped over 
 to the warm fire. " But something's queer." He fished 
 out a pipe from the pocket of his thick pilot coat, filled 
 it, lit up, and sank puffing into the arm-chair from 
 which, a minute ago, Vashti had snatched up her guitar. 
 " Hullo ! " he exclaimed, as his eyes fell upon the empty 
 packing-case. " You don't mean to tell me that you've 
 been smuggling ? " 
 
 The Commandant shook his head and laughed, albeit 
 with some confusion. "The steamer brought it this 
 morning. I assure you it held nothing contraband. . . . 
 But I hope that little game is not starting afresh in the 
 Islands? It gave us a deal of trouble in the old days ; 
 and there was quite an outbreak of it, as I remember, 
 some three or four years before you came to us. Old 
 Penkivel " — this was Mr. Rogers' predecessor — " used to 
 declare that it turned his hair grey." 
 
 " He told me something beside, on the morning he 
 
 233
 
 234 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 sailed for the mainland ; which was that, but for the 
 help you gave him as Governor, he could never have 
 grappled with it. Maybe this was sticking in my head 
 just now when I started to walk up here and consult 
 you." 
 
 " Well, and what is the matter ? " 
 
 " Oh, a trifle. Do you happen to know Tregarthen, 
 the fellow that farms Saaron Island ? " 
 
 The Commandant started. 
 
 " Eli Tregarthen ? Yes, certainly : that is to say, as I 
 know pretty well everybody in the Islands." 
 
 " What sort of a fellow ? " 
 
 " Quiet ; steady ; works on his farm like a horse, week 
 in and week out ; never speaks out of his turn, and says 
 little enough when his turn comes." 
 
 " That sort is often the deepest," observed Mr. Rogers 
 sententiously, and puffed. " And Saaron Island there, 
 close by the Roads, lies very handy for a little illicit 
 work." 
 
 " You are right, so far," the Commandant admitted ; 
 "and history bears you out. In the old kelp-making 
 days, when half a dozen families lived on it, Saaron 
 gave more trouble than any two islands of its size." 
 
 "It's none the less handy for being deserted." Mr. 
 Rogers drew out a penknife and meditatively loosened 
 the tobacco in his pipe. 
 
 "Handier. But you are wrong in suspecting 
 Tregarthen ; that is, unless you have good, tangible 
 evidence." 
 
 " I don't say that it amounts to much, but it's tangible. 
 In fact, his boat is lying here, just now, close under the 
 Keg of Butter." 
 
 The Commandant turned on his heel and took a pace 
 or two towards the window, to hide his perturbation
 
 SUSPICIONS 235 
 
 and give himself time to consider. Vashti's boat ! 
 And Vashti on the premises at this moment ! What 
 was to be done? How on earth could he get her 
 away ? 
 
 "You discovered this yourself?" he found himself 
 asking. 
 
 " No ; I happened to be in the watch - house with 
 the chief boatman, checking the store-sheets, when 
 Beesley, whose watch it is, came in and reported. I see 
 what you're driving at. Your own boat is lying under 
 the Keg of Butter, as everybody knows, and you suggest 
 that I am duffer enough to mistake her in the darkness 
 for a boat at least two foot longer." Mr. Rogers laughed 
 good-naturedly. "But the answer is," he went on, 
 " that Beesley found two boats lying there. The second 
 was moored on a shore line, and we pulled her in and 
 examined her. Sure enough we found name and 
 owner's name cut on her transom — ' Two Sisters : 
 E. Tregarthen.' Now, what d'you make of it ? " 
 
 " Very little," answered the Commandant, recovering 
 himself; "and that little in all likelihood quite innocent. 
 Someone, we'll say, wishes to cross over from Saaron to 
 St. Lide's this evening — on any simple errand — say to 
 fetch a parcel from the steamer. Why shouldn't that 
 someone, knowing the Keg of Butter to be good shelter 
 with plenty of water at all tides, have landed and left 
 the boat there ? " 
 
 Mr. Rogers shook his head, " Why there, and not at 
 the pier? The pier lies almost a mile nearer, and 
 there's almost a fair wind for returning ; while from the 
 Keg of Butter no one can fetch Saaron under a couple 
 of tacks. That's my first point. Secondly, if Eli 
 Tregarthen has honest business here, whether with the 
 steamer to fetch a parcel (parcels must be running in
 
 236 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 your head to-night) or in the town to fetch a doctor, the 
 pier is obviously his landing-place. Why, there isn't a 
 house in the Island, barring these barracks, that doesn't 
 stand half a mile nearer the pier ; not to mention that 
 landing at the Keg of Butter involves a perfectly 
 unnecessary climb up one side of Garrison Hill and 
 down the other. Lastly, my dear sir, look at the time ! 
 Close on eleven o'clock ! — and all Garland Town in their 
 beds. Again I ask, what possible honest business can 
 Eli Tregarthen have here at such an hour ? " 
 
 The Commandant felt himself cornered. An insane 
 hope crossed his mind that, while the Lieutenant sat 
 talking, Vashti had contrived to slip out of the house 
 and down to the shore. It was followed by a saner one, 
 that she had done nothing of the sort ; for, to a certainty, 
 the boat would be guarded. 
 
 " You have taken precautions ? " he asked, and felt 
 himself flushing at the dishonesty of the question, 
 
 " I have posted Beesley in charge, and sent the chief 
 boatman off to the pier-head to keep a close watch on 
 the steamer. She sails at seven-thirty to-morrow ; and 
 though I never heard a hint against her skipper, it's 
 only right to be careful. I've amused myself before 
 now, planning imaginary frauds on the revenue ; and if 
 anyone cares to risk opening up that game afresh, the 
 Islands still give him a plenty of openings." 
 
 " Yes, yes," agreed the Commandant, and checked a 
 groan. He had thought of warning Vashti to slip down 
 to the quay and borrow a boat there without asking 
 leave. Some explanation might be trumped up on the 
 morrow — as that the wind was foul for returning from 
 the Keg of Butter. No one would accuse Eli Tregarthen 
 of borrowing a boat with intent to steal : his taking it 
 would be no more than a neighbourly liberty.
 
 SUSPICIONS 237 
 
 But, with the chief boatman watching the pierhead, 
 she would be discovered to a certainty. The Com- 
 mandant's last hope was gone. 
 
 Just as he realised this, to his utter astonishment 
 he heard the voice of Archelaus grumbling outside in 
 the passage. And Archelaus had gone to rest an 
 hour ago ! 
 
 " Pretty time of night this, to come breaking a man's 
 rest ! " growled the voice of Archelaus audibly, and 
 not without viciousness, as though he meant it to be 
 heard. 
 
 "Good Lord!" exclaimed Mr. Rogers. "You don't 
 tell me we've roused that old fellow out of bed? 
 And I reckoned I was making no more noise than a 
 mouse ! " 
 
 " He must have heard you throw that gravel against 
 the pane." The Commandant took a step towards the 
 door, but halted, irresolute. 
 
 " Then he's a light sleeper," commented Mr. Rogers, 
 "and an even more dilatory dresser. Why, good 
 Heavens!" — the Lieutenant started up from his 
 chair — "he's undoing the bolts! Somebody's at 
 the front door: one of my men to report, I'll bet a 
 fiver ! " 
 
 He would have rushed out into the passage, but the 
 Commandant caught him by the arm. 
 
 " No need to hurry, my friend ! Whoever it is, 
 Archelaus will bring word." 
 
 Many hasty surmises whirled together in the Com- 
 mandant's brain — the first, and hastiest, that Vashti, 
 unable to make her escape, had aroused Archelaus, and 
 that Archelaus was unbarring the door for her on the 
 pretence of hearing a knock. Even so, she would be 
 caught as soon as she reached the shore. Still, occasion
 
 238 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 might be snatched to send Archelaus after her to warn 
 her : she might hide for the night at the Castle under 
 Mrs. Treacher's friendly wing. The instant need was to 
 hold back the Lieutenant from discovering her in the 
 passage, and to the Lieutenant's arm our Commandant 
 clung. 
 
 " My good sir," expostulated Mr. Rogers, " it must be 
 one of my men. Who else, at this hour ? " 
 
 He fell back a step as the door opened. 
 
 " A person to see you, sir ; from Saaron," announced 
 Archelaus. " Shall I show her in ? " 
 
 Before either could answer, Vashti herself stood on 
 the threshold. 
 
 Of the two men, the Lieutenant excusably showed the 
 blanker astonishment. But the Commandant had to 
 catch at the rail of a chair. Vashti had discarded her 
 cloak of furs, and faced him now in such garb as is worn 
 by the poorest in the Islands : a short gown of hodden 
 grey, coarse-knitted stockings, and stout shoes. Across 
 her shoulder, for a turn-over, she wore a faded shawl of 
 tartan pattern. (The Commandant recognised it for a 
 surplus one which Mrs. Treacher kept in the barracks' 
 kitchen, to wear "against the draughts" on occasions 
 when she helped Archelaus with the cooking.) But most 
 wonderful of all was her hair. By some quick art, the 
 heavy coil had been drawn into two flat bands, brought 
 low over her forehead and carried back over the ears in 
 "a fashion almost slatternly. By no art could Vashti 
 conceal that she was beautiful. She was also too wise to 
 attempt it ; but she had contrived to transform herself. 
 
 " If you please, sir," she began timidly, with an Island 
 curtsey, and paused as if uncertain, at sight of Mr. 
 Rogers, whether to hold her ground or to flee, — " If you 
 please, sir, I be that frightened ! ''
 
 SUSPICIONS 239 
 
 Accent, intonation — both were perfect, of the true 
 Island speech, that delicate, incommunicable sing-song. 
 The Commandant's eyes grew rounder yet with amaze- 
 ment, and Vashti — afraid, perhaps, of meeting them — 
 flung a glance of mock terror behind her, as though she 
 had caught the footfall of a pursuer. 
 
 "But — but who in the world " stammered Mr. 
 
 Rogers. 
 
 " If you please, gentlemen " — she turned, with another 
 quick curtsey — '* my name is Vazzy Cara, and I come 
 from Saaron. I live there with my sister Ruth, that is 
 wife to Eli Tregarthen." 
 
 Mr. Rogers gave a low whistle. 
 
 " It's true, sir — true as I stand here ! The Governor 
 knows me, and will bear me out — won't you, sir? A 
 terrible way from Saaron it is, and at this hour of night. 
 But ask the Governor, sir, and he'll tell you I am a 
 respectable woman ; sister to Mrs. Tregarthen, and lives 
 with her to look after the children." 
 
 "Yes, yes," interrupted the Lieutenant, losing 
 patience. " But the question is, how you came here, 
 and why ? " 
 
 Vashti stood panting. By the heave of her bosom 
 it was plain to see that either her fears still possessed 
 her, or that she had been running for dear life, 
 and must catch breath. Her hand went up to her 
 bodice. 
 
 " I came, sir, to see the Governor — all the way across 
 from Saaron. Eli — that's my sister's husband — is in 
 terrible trouble over there, because the Lord Proprietor 
 means to turn him off his farm. Yes, fay ! " — she drew 
 a letter from her bodice, and went on with rising voice. 
 " Turn us out he will, though the Tregarthens have lived 
 on the Island ever since Saaron was Saaron. The
 
 240 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Governor, here, in his time would never have done such 
 wickedness, nor suffered it, being a just gentleman and 
 merciful, as all the folk can bear witness. And so, 
 thinks I, he may be able to help us yet; and if able he 
 will be willing." 
 
 She held out the letter towards the Commandant, who 
 took it and turned it over vaguely between his fingers, 
 not opening it, nor daring to meet her eyes. 
 
 "And so," continued Mr. Rogers, "you took your 
 brother-in-law's boat — without his knowledge " 
 
 Vashti nodded. "Yes, sir; I took it unbeknowns. 
 He's a very quiet man, is my sister's husband, and 
 don't like it that other folks, 'specially women, should 
 mix themselves up in his affairs." 
 
 " Then he's a sensible fellow, as well as a quiet 
 one." 
 
 " Yes, sir." Vashti took the correction meekly, with 
 downcast look. 
 
 "And still less, I'll bet," Mr, Rogers continued, 
 " would he be pleased to know that one of his woman- 
 kind was straying across to St. Lide's at this hour of the 
 night." 
 
 " Oh, sir," she caught him up, " but that's where I've 
 been hindered ! For wishing to have word with the 
 Governor, and no one the wiser, I brought the boat to 
 shore down yonder, under the Keg of Butter, and there 
 the coastguards have found it, and are waiting by it to 
 catch me, and what answer to give them I can't think, 
 nor how to account for myself. Belike they think 'tis 
 smuggling I am, and are searchin' the hill for me. 
 Seemin' to me they're everywhere, and all around me 
 in the darkness ! " 
 
 Mr. Rogers broke into a laugh. " It appears, Com- 
 mandant, that I have found a mare's nest ; always
 
 SUSPICIONS 241 
 
 supposing that this tale is a true one. You'll excuse 
 me, ma'am, but service is service." 
 
 The Commandant had turned to his writing-table, 
 and was holding the letter under the lamplight. 
 
 " I can go bail for Miss Cara," he answered, but with- 
 out looking up. " Undoubtedly she comes from Saaron, 
 and is Mrs. Tregarthen's sister. Also this letter, though 
 we cannot deal with it to-night, is addressed to Eli Tregar- 
 then in the Lord Proprietor's handwriting. It gives him 
 formal notice to quit and deliver up his farm. I can give no 
 hope of help — no hope at all." Here his voice trembled 
 slightly. " The most I can promise is to consider it." 
 
 " And the best we can do for the moment is to escort 
 Miss Cara down to her boat and get one of my men to 
 sail her back to her Island." 
 
 " I incline to think," said the Commandant, after a 
 pause, "that Miss Cara is competent to sail back alone. 
 If not, I would suggest that you or I escort her, towing 
 my boat across for the return journey. In any case, if 
 we can get your men out of the way, it would be wiser, 
 perhaps, for her sake " 
 
 " And for mine, begad ! " agreed the Lieutenant. 
 " Else I shall have every man of them grinning behind 
 my back for a month of Sundays. ' Rogers' smuggling- 
 chase ' — I can hear the villains chuckling over it. . . 
 But I say, though " — he turned on Vashti admiringly — 
 " you'll want an escort across, eh ? You don't tell me 
 you're man enough to handle that boat alone ? " 
 
 " If you please, sir." 
 
 " The channel's none too easy on a dark night." 
 
 Vashti smiled. " My father taught it to me, sir, before 
 I was ten years old. I could sail it blindfold." 
 
 " And you have the nerve ? And yet just now, the 
 dark frightened you, and you ran for your life ! " 
 16
 
 242 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " No," said Vashti demurely, " I just stood still." 
 " Well, come along . . . and when you get to the 
 battery, you'll have to stand still again, and wait until I 
 report the coast clear. Commandant, will you give Miss 
 Cara your arm, while I run ahead ? " 
 
 They stepped out together into the night. Vashti 
 neither took the Commandant's arm nor spoke to 
 him, even after Mr. Rogers had passed ahead out of 
 earshot. Only when the pair had reached the dark 
 battery, and were waiting there on the dark platform 
 above the sea, she turned to him and asked — 
 " Shall you be busy to-morrow ? " 
 " I am never busy." 
 
 " I have left my cloak and the guitar with Archelaus." 
 " I will bring them to Saaron to-morrow." 
 She turned away and leaned over the low parapet to 
 the left. Some way below a footfall sounded, on the 
 track leading to the watch-house — the footfall of 
 Beesley. A stone, dislodged by his tread, trickled and 
 fell over the cliff into night. 
 
 " Curious 1 " remarked Mr, Rogers confidentially, to 
 the Commandant, twenty minutes later, as they stood 
 and peered into the darkness after Vashti's boat. " Here 
 I am, stuck on these Islands (so to speak) with a 
 telescope held to my eye. Of the folk upon 'em I see 
 next to nothing. Now, I don't know if you took note 
 of it, but that's a remarkable-looking woman ; a remark- 
 ably handsome woman ; and I've spent these years here 
 without guessing that such a woman existed hereabouts. 
 Eh?" Mr. Rogers relapsed into mild facetiousness. 
 " If you were a younger man. Commandant, I could 
 hatch up a pretty story out of to-night's doings — and 
 if I didn't mind a laugh against myself."
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 CONCERNING PIPER'S HOLE 
 
 ANNET, Linnet, and Matthew Henry sat side by 
 side on the granite roller by the gate and watched 
 their friend Jan eat his mid - morning snack — or 
 " mungey," as it is called in the Islands. It consisted, 
 as a rule, of a crust of bread, but Jan had supplemented 
 it to-day with a turnip, which he cut into slices with his 
 pocket-knife. He had been pulling turnips since six 
 o'clock. " And I reckon this'll be the last time of 
 askin'," he commented, letting his eyes wander over the 
 field as he seated himself on a shaft of the cart, which 
 had been brought to await the loading. 
 
 The children knew that they would soon be quitting 
 Saaron, and that the prospect distressed their father and 
 mother. They had talked it over, and agreed together 
 that it was a great shame to be turned out of their 
 home, and that the Lord Proprietor must be a hard- 
 hearted tyrant ; but secretly they looked forward to the 
 change with a good deal of excitement, not being of an 
 age to fathom the troubles of grown-up folk. After all, 
 Brefar lay close at hand and was familiar. Brefar was 
 populous, and across there they would find many play- 
 mates. Brefar, too, held out great promise of adventure 
 after sea-birds' eggs and expeditions of discovery ; and 
 if ever the home-sickness came upon them they would 
 cross the sands at low-water and revisit the old haunts 
 
 243
 
 244 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 and the deserted house. All these consolations, how- 
 ever, they kept to themselves. It would never do to 
 abandon the family grievance merely because it presented 
 a bright side. They felt, as their elders have been 
 known to feel, that a sense of injury carries with it a 
 sense of importance. 
 
 " I wonder," said Linnet severely, " that you can have 
 the heart to talk about it, Jan." 
 
 "Jan has no feelings about leaving Saaron," said 
 Annet, more in sorrow than in anger. " Why should 
 he — coming from the mainland ? " 
 
 " But Jan was born on the Islands," Matthew Henry 
 objected ; " and that will be a long time ago." 
 
 " Silly ! As if you could belong to the Islands by 
 being born here ! Why, to belong to them, your father 
 and mother must have been Islanders, and your grand- 
 fathers and grandmothers, and right back into the 
 greats and great-greats. And then you never want to 
 go away or live anywhere else in the world." 
 
 Matthew Henry pursed up his small mouth dubiously. 
 He himself had sometimes wished to live in the wilds 
 of America, or on a South Sea Island ; even to visit 
 Australia and have a try at walking upside down. 
 There must be a flaw in Annet's argument some- 
 where. 
 
 " But if Jan comes from the mainland " he 
 
 began. 
 
 " Cornwall," said Jan tranquilly, his mouth full of raw 
 turnip. 
 
 " Then you ought to want to go back to it." 
 
 " I means to, one of these fine days." 
 
 " I shouldn't put it off too long, if I were you," 
 advised Linnet candidly. " You're getting up in years, 
 and, the next thing, you'll be dead."
 
 CONCERNING PIPER'S HOLE 245 
 
 " But didn't your father ever want to go back ? " asked 
 Matthew Henry, sticking to his point 
 
 " No fear." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because, if he'd showed his face back in Cornwall, 
 they'd have hanged him ; that's all." 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed the three, almost simultaneously, 
 and sat for a moment or two gazing on Jan in awed 
 silence. 
 
 " But why should they want to hang your father ? " 
 asked Annet. 
 
 Jan sliced his bread with an air of noble indifference. 
 " Eh ? Why, indeed ? He used to say that 'twas for 
 being too frolicsome. He never done no wrong — not 
 what you might call wrong ; or so he maintained, an' 
 'twasn't for me to disbelieve en. Was it, now ? " 
 
 " You'll tell us about it, Jan dear ? " coaxed Annet. 
 
 "There's no particular story in it." (The children 
 put this aside ; it was Jan's formula for starting a tale.) 
 " My father, in his young days, lived at a place in 
 Cornwall called Luxulyan, and arned his wages as a 
 tinner at a stream-work " 
 
 " What is a stream-work ? " asked Matthew Henry. 
 
 " A stream-work is a moor beside a river, where the 
 mud is full of ore, washed down from the country above 
 — sometimes from the old mines. The streamers dig 
 this mud up and wash it through sieves, and so they 
 get the tin. There was enough of it, my father said, in 
 Luxulyan Couse to keep a captain and twelve men in 
 good wages and pay for a feast once a year at the 
 Rising Sun public - house. The supper took place 
 some time in the week before Christmas, and they 
 called it Pie-crust Night, though I can't tell you why. 
 Well, one Pie-crust Night, after this royal supper — the
 
 246 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 most enjoyable he had ever known — my father left the 
 Rising Sun towards midnight, and started to walk to 
 his home in Luxulyan Churchtown. He had a fair 
 dollop of beer inside of him, but nothing (as he ever 
 maintained) to excuse what followed, and he got so far as 
 Tregarden Down without accident. Now, this Tregarden 
 Down, as he always described it to me, is a lonesome 
 place given over to bracken-fern and strewn about with 
 great granite boulders, and on one of these boulders 
 my father sat down, because the night was clear and a 
 fancy had come into his head to count the stars. He 
 sat there, staring up and counting till he reached twenty 
 score, and with that he felt he was getting a crick in the 
 back of his neck, and brought his eyes down to earth 
 again. It seemed to him that, even in the dark, a 
 change had come over the down since he'd been sittin' 
 there, and the whole lie of the ground had a furrin look. 
 Hows'ever, he hadn't much time to puzzle about this, 
 for lo and behold ! as he stared about him, what 
 should he see under the lew of the next rock but a party 
 of little people, none of 'em more than a thumb high, 
 dancing in a ring upon the turf ! They broke off and 
 laughed as soon as my father caught sight of 'em ; and 
 says one little whipper-snapper, stepping forward and 
 pulling off his cap with a bow, ' Good-evening, my 
 man ! ' ' Sir to you ! ' says my father. ' There's a good 
 liquor at the Rising Sun,' says the little man. ' None 
 better,' says my father. ' I know by a deal better,' says 
 the little man. ' Would you like to taste it ? ' ' Would 
 I not ! ' says my father. ' Well, then,' says the little 
 man, * there's a ship full of wine gone ashore early this 
 night on Par Sands, and maybe the Par folk haven't 
 had time yet to clear the cargo. What d'ee say to Ho ! 
 and away for Par Beach ! Eh ? ' ' With all the pleasure
 
 CONCERNING PIPER'S HOLE 247 
 
 in life,' says my father, thinkin' it a joke ; * so Ho ! and 
 azvay for Par Beach ! ' he calls out, mimicking the little 
 man. The words weren't scarcely out of his mouth 
 before a wind seemed to catch him up, though gently, 
 from his seat on the boulder, and in two twinklings 
 sure enough he was standin' on Par Sands. There was 
 a strong sea running, and out beyond the edge of the 
 tide my father spied a ship breaking up. But if she 
 broke up fast, her cargo was meltin' faster ; for a whole 
 crowd of folk had gathered on the sands, and were 
 rolling the casks of wine up from the water and carting 
 them away for dear life. My father and the little 
 people could much as ever lay hands on a solitary one, 
 and, what was worse, they hadn't but fairly broached it 
 before a cry went up that the Preventive men were 
 coming. Sure enough, my father, pricking up his ears, 
 could hear horses gallopin' down along the road above 
 the sands. ' Dear, dear ! ' says the little man, ' this is 
 a most annoyin' thing to happen ! But luckily I know 
 a place where there's better liquor still, and no risk 
 of bein' interrupted. So Ho ! and aivay for Squire 
 Tremayne s cellar ! ' 
 
 " ' Ho ! and aivay for Squires Tremayne s cellar I ' 
 called out my father ; and the next thing he knew he 
 found himself in the cellars of Squire Tremayne's great 
 house at Heligan, knocking around with the small 
 people among casks of wine and barrels of beer galore. 
 To do him justice, he never pretended he didn't make 
 use of the occasion. In fact, he fuddled himself so that 
 when the little gentleman called out ' Ho ! and away ! 
 for the next randivoo ' (whatever that might ha' been), 
 he missed to take up the catchword, bein' asleep belike. 
 So there the piskies left him asleep, with his head in a 
 waste-saucer and his mouth under the drip of a spigot ;
 
 248 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 and there the butler found him next morning, knocking 
 his shins among the butts and barrels in the darkness, 
 and calling out to know what the dickens had taken 
 Tregarden Down and the rocks o't, that they grew so 
 pesky close together. The butler haled him upstairs to 
 the squire, and the squire heard his story, and not only 
 said he didn't believe a word o't, but (bein' a magistrate) 
 packed him off to Bodmin Gaol for burglary. I don't 
 blame the man altogether," said Jan reflectively ; " for, 
 come to think of it, my father's account of himself lay 
 a bit off the ordinary run, and belike he wasn't in any 
 condition to put it clearly. 
 
 " At any rate, to gaol he went, and from gaol he was 
 delivered up to the Judges at Assize, and the Judges 
 sentenced my poor father to death, which was the 
 punishment for burglary in those times, and, for all I 
 know, it may be the same on the mainland to this 
 day. 
 
 " The morning came when he was to be put out of 
 the world ; and, as I needn't tell you, it gathered a great 
 crowd together, to have a look at the last of a man that 
 had so little sense of wickedness as to take such liberties 
 with a gentleman's wine and spirits. There my poor 
 father stood under the gallows-tree with none to befriend 
 en, when all of a sudden he heard a shouting up the 
 street, and down along it through the crowd came a 
 strange little lady, holding up her hand and a paper in 
 it. The folk opened way respectful-like, seein' by the 
 bettermost air of her that she belonged to one of the 
 gentry, and along she came to the scaffold. ' Good- 
 mornin', ma'am, and what can I do for you ? ' says the 
 Sheriff, steppin' forward, with a lift of his hat. He held 
 out a hand for the paper ; but the little lady turns to my 
 father, and pipes out in a little voice, very clear and
 
 CONCERNING PIPER'S HOLE 249 
 
 sweet, ' Ho ! and away for tJie Islands ! ' Glad enough 
 was my father to hear the sound of it. ' Ho ! and away 
 for the Islands I ' he answers, pat ; and in two twinks he 
 and the little lady were off in the sky like a puff of 
 smoke, and the crowd left miles below. The next 
 thing he knew he was sittin' on a rock, over yonder in 
 Iniscaw, by the mouth of Piper's Hole, and starin' at the 
 sea. So he picks himself together and walks up to 
 North Iniscaw Farm (as 'twas called in those days), and 
 there he took service and married and lived steady ever 
 after. Leastways " 
 
 " Leastways," said a voice at the gate, " he gave over 
 drinking except when his master ran a cargo of brandy ; 
 and he never gave his wife trouble but once, when he 
 took home a mermaid and made the good soul jealous." 
 
 " Aunt Vazzy ! " cried the children. " Why, how long 
 have you been standin' there ? " 
 
 " Long enough to hear the end of the story, and how 
 Jan's father came to the Islands through Piper's Hole." 
 
 " But," Linnet objected, " Jan didn't say that his 
 father came through Piper's Hole ; only that he found 
 himself on the rocks in front of it. They came through 
 the air, he and the little lady, didn't they, Jan ? " 
 
 Jan shook his head. " They started to come through 
 the air," he answered cautiously. 
 
 " Everybody knows that the fairies always pass to and 
 fro through Piper's Hole," said Annet in a positive 
 voice. " The mermaids, too. The cave there goes right 
 through Iniscaw and under the sea, and comes up again 
 in the mainland. Nobody living has ever gone that 
 way ; but Farmer Santo had an uncle once that owned 
 a sheep-dog that wandered into Piper's Hole and was 
 lost, and a month later it turned up on the mainland 
 with all its hair off."
 
 250 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " It do go in a terrible long way, to be sure," Jan 
 admitted; "for I made trial of it myself, one time, at 
 low water. First of all you come to a pool, and then, 
 about fifty yards farther, to another pool, and into that 
 I went plump, coming upon it sudden, in the darkness. 
 I swallowed a bellyful of it, too, and the water — if you'll 
 believe me — was quite fresh. I didn't try no farther, 
 because in the first place the tide was rising, and because, 
 when I pulled myself out, I heard a sound on t'other 
 side of the pool like as if some creature was breathin' 
 hard there in the darkness. It properly raised my hair, 
 and I turned tail." 
 
 " Fie, Jan ! Ran away from a mermaid ! " said Vashti, 
 laughing. " You should have brought her home and 
 married her." 
 
 " I don't want to marry no woman with a tail like a 
 fish, nor no woman that makes thikky noise with her 
 breathin'," maintained Jan. " That's to say, if merrymaid 
 it were, which I doubts. But you're wrong about my 
 father, Miss Vazzy. He see'd a merrymaid, sure 'nough ; 
 but he never took her home. No, he was too much of 
 a gentleman, besides bein' afeard o' my mother. If you 
 want the story, he was down in Piper's Hole one day 
 warping ashore some few kegs of brandy that had been 
 sunk thereabouts by a Rosco trader. Mr. Pope's father, 
 that was agent to th' old Duke, used to employ my 
 father regular on this business, knowing him for a silent 
 man, and one to be trusted ; and my father had made a 
 very pretty cachot some way back-along in the cave, big 
 enough to hold two score of kegs, and well above reach 
 of the sea-water. But, o' course, while he was at this 
 kind of work, Mr. Pope had to wink an eye now and 
 then if one o' the kegs leaked a bit. Well, my father 
 had finished his job that day in a sweatin' hurry, the
 
 CONCERNING PIPER'S HOLE 251 
 
 tide bein' nearabouts on the top of the flood, and at the 
 end, all the kegs bein' stowed, he spiled one — ' for the 
 good of the house,' as he put it — and drew off a tot in a 
 tin pannikin he kept handy. With this and his pipe he 
 settled himself down 'pon a dry ledge, and waited for 
 the tide to run back. 
 
 " Out beyond the mouth of the hole he could see a 
 patch of blue sky, and the little waves under it glancin' 
 in the sunshine ; and belike the dazzle of it, or else the 
 tot of brandy, made him feel drowsy-like. Anyhow, he 
 woke up to see that the tide had run out a bravish lot, 
 leavin' the sands high and dry. But, as you know, there's 
 a pool o' water close inside the entrance, and what 
 should my father see in the pool but a woman's head and 
 shoulders ! 
 
 " She had raised herself out of the water with her 
 hands restin' on a slab of rock, and over the rock she 
 stared at my father, like as if she wanted help, and 
 again like as if she felt too timid to ask. And when I 
 called her a woman I said wrong; for she was more 
 like a child, and a frightened one, with terrible pretty 
 eyes, and her long hair shed down over her shoulders, 
 drippin' wet, and in colour between gold and sea-green. 
 ' Hullo ! ' said my father, * and who might you be, makin' 
 so bold ? ' At the sound of his speech she gave a little 
 scritch at first, and bobbed down face-under, so that 
 her hair lay afloat and spread itself all over the water 
 like seaweed. My father walked up closer. ' Nonsense, 
 my dear,' says he, in his coaxin' voice, ' there's nothin' 
 to be afeard of. I'm a respectable married man, and 
 old enough to be your father. So put up your face — 
 come now ! — and tell me all about it.' After a bit she 
 lifted her face, very pitiful, and says she in a small 
 voice, * I was afeard you had been drinkin', sir.' ' A
 
 252 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 little — a very little,' answers my father ; ' we'll say no 
 more about it.' ' And I was afeard,' says she, ' you 
 would want to carry me home and marry me against 
 my will ! ' ' Lord,' says my father, ' trust a woman for 
 putting notions into a man's head. No, no, my dear ; 
 I can get all the temperance talk I want without 
 committin' bigamy for it' ' An' you couldn' marry 
 me,' says the merrymaid, with a kind o' sob, * because 
 I'm married already, an' the mother of two as pretty 
 children as ever you wished to see. I can hear 'em 
 callin' for me,' she said, ' down there, beyond the bar ; ' 
 and she went on to tell him (but the tale was all mixed 
 up with sobbin') how she and the children had been 
 swimmin' along shore that afternoon, and liftin' their 
 heads above water to glimpse the sea-pinks and catch 
 a smell of the thyme on the cliffs ; and how she had 
 left 'em to play while she swam into the cave to sit 
 for a while and comb out her pretty hair. But the 
 tide had run back while she was busy, and she couldn't 
 crawl back to the sea over the bar, because on dry sand 
 all her strength left her. ' And if I wait for the flood,' 
 she said, ' my husband'll half murder me ; for he's jealous 
 as fire.' 
 
 " My father listened, and, sure enough, he seemed to 
 hear the children's voices callin' to her out beyond the 
 water's edge. With that, bein' always a tender-hearted 
 man, he knelt down and lifted her out o' the pool. 
 Now, if he'd had more sense at the time he'd have 
 struck a bargain with her ; for the merrymaids, they 
 say, can tell where gold is hidden, and charm a man 
 against sickness, and make all his wishes come true. 
 But in the tenderness of his heart he thought 'pon none 
 o' these things. He just let her put her arms round 
 his neck, and lifted her over the sands, and waded out
 
 CONCERNING PIPER'S HOLE 253 
 
 with her, till he stood three feet deep in water in his 
 sea-boots ; and then she gave him a kiss and slid away 
 with a flip of her tail. 'Twas only when he stood 
 staring that it crossed his mind what a fool he had 
 been and what a chance he had missed. Then he 
 remembered that she had dropped her comb by the 
 edge of the pool — he had heard it fall when he lifted 
 her, and back he went to search for it : for the sayin' 
 is that with a merrymaid's comb you can comb out 
 your hair in handfuls of guineas. But all he found 
 was a broken bit of a shark's jaw, and though he combed 
 for half an hour and wished for all kinds o' good luck, 
 not a farthin' could he fetch out." 
 
 " Is that all ? " asked Matthew Henry, as Jan arose 
 from the cart-shaft, dusting the crumbs of bread from 
 his breeches. 
 
 " It's enough, I should think," said Linnet the 
 sceptical, "seeing that it's nothing but a story from 
 beginning to end." 
 
 Vashti looked from one child to the other with a 
 twinkle of fun. " We will pay Piper's Hole a visit one 
 of these days," she promised, " and perhaps Linnet will 
 see a real mermaid and be convinced." 
 
 " I don't care for mermaids," announced Matthew 
 Henry. " It's the cave I want to explore, to see if it 
 really does lead through to the mainland. And I won't 
 be afraid, like Jan here, and run away from a little 
 noise." 
 
 "You wait till you get there before you boast," 
 advised Linnet. 
 
 But Vashti's eyes, resting on the boy, grew tender 
 of a sudden. " The way through to the mainland ? " 
 she said musingly. " Matthew Henry is right. It all 
 depends on the heart that tries it ; but there is nothing
 
 254 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 can do him harm if he keeps up his courage ; and the 
 end of the road is worth all the journey, for a man." 
 
 "Why, Aunt Vazzy, you talk as if you had been 
 there ! " cried Annet. 
 
 " And so I have, my dear ; there and back again," 
 
 The three children stared at her. " Aunt Vazzy is 
 joking," said Linnet severely. Annet was not so sure, 
 and her brow puckered with a frown as she searched 
 for the meaning beneath her aunt's words. But Matthew 
 Henry believed them literally, entirely. 
 
 "Then," he exclaimed joyfully, "it's all nonsense 
 about Farmer Santo's uncle's sheep-dog. For Aunt 
 Vazzy has beautiful hair ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE LORD PROPRIETOR HEARS A 
 SIREN SING 
 
 " ^^IR, — In answer to your letter of the 19th ultimo, 
 v3 I am directed by the Secretary of State for War 
 to say that a Commission, the composition of which is 
 not finally determined, will shortly be visiting the 
 Islands, with a view to reporting on the adaptability 
 of their existing military works for Coast Defence. 
 Notice of the probable date of this visit shall be sent 
 to you, and the Commissioners will doubtless be glad 
 to avail themselves of any information you may be 
 good enough to put at their disposal. At the same 
 time, there will be given an opportunity of inquiring 
 into the allegations contained in your letter. The 
 Commission will be presided over by Maj. -General 
 Sir Ommaney Ward, K.C.B., R.E., H.M. Director of 
 Fortifications. — I am, sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 "J. Fleetwood Cunningham" 
 
 Thrice a week — on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and 
 Saturdays — the steamer arrived at St. Lide's Quay, 
 bringing the mainland mail, and the Lord Proprietor's 
 post-bag usually reached him soon after luncheon. It 
 carried, as a rule, a bulky correspondence, and since 
 the steamer weighed anchor early next morning the 
 
 25s
 
 256 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Lord Proprietor set aside the fore-part of these three 
 afternoons for letter-writing. 
 
 The passage had been smooth to-day, and the bag 
 had been delivered to him and opened as he took his 
 solitary meal. Also the mail for the great house was 
 a light one, and out of it the Lord Proprietor, catching 
 sight of the official stamp on the envelope, had at 
 once selected the letter quoted above. He perused it, 
 and re-perused it, to the neglect of the rest of his 
 correspondence, tilting it against a bowl of Michaelmas 
 daisies in front of his plate. 
 
 It was satisfactory, he decided ; that is to say, on 
 the whole, and so far as it went. He foresaw that short 
 shrift would be given to those idlers on Garrison Hill. 
 On the other hand, he frowned at the prospect of seeing 
 that establishment replaced by one more efficient. The 
 Islands, with their many outlying reefs and poor 
 anchorage, could never afford room to such battleships 
 as were built in these days ; and to erect new fortifica- 
 tions to cover a roadstead that would seldom, if ever, 
 be used, appeared the plainest waste of public money. 
 He really thought that the War Office might have 
 consulted him before coolly proposing to plant a new 
 garrison above St. Lide's. He was not even sure they 
 had a right, without his consent. He would confer with 
 Mr. Pope on this point. At the very least, it would 
 have been courteous to start by asking his opinion ; 
 •for, after all, he owned the Islands. He was responsible, 
 too, for the general good conduct of the population; 
 good conduct which the advent of a body of soldiery 
 would certainly affect — nay, might entirely upset. 
 
 Nevertheless, he reflected that — however the Com- 
 missioners might decide (and he would take care to 
 press his opinion energetically) — his letter to the
 
 LORD PROPRIETOR HEARS A SIREN SING 257 
 
 Secretary of State for War had at least done no harm. 
 The Commissioners' visit had obviously been projected 
 before the receipt of it, and at the worst it would enable 
 him to call quits with Vigoureux. 
 
 He reflected, further, that these roving Commissions 
 to report were often no index of Government policy, 
 but were simply appointed to shelve, while professing 
 to consider, a question which the Government found 
 awkward. 
 
 So, luncheon over, he sat down and wrote a letter 
 thanking the Secretary for his communication, and very 
 politely offering to do all in his power to make the 
 Commissioners' visit a pleasant one. 
 
 Having copied the letter and read it over with no 
 little approval, the Lord Proprietor dealt briefly with 
 the rest of his correspondence ; consulted his pocket- 
 diary, looked at his watch, and, finding that he had 
 an hour to spare before granting an interview to Eli 
 Tregarthen, stepped out upon the terrace, where Cai 
 Jenkins was cutting back the geraniums that had well- 
 nigh ceased to flower. 
 
 "But is it necessary?" asked the Lord Proprietor. 
 " Here, in the very mouth of the Gulf Stream ? — and 
 last winter we escaped with nothing worse than two 
 degrees of frost." 
 
 " Last winter and this winter be two different things, 
 sir," protested Cai gently, but firmly. "Last winter, 
 sir — as you may have taken notice — we had next to 
 no berries 'pon the holly; and no seals, nor yet no 
 mermaids." 
 
 " Seals ? Mermaids ? " Sir C.xsar echoed. 
 
 " Which I've always heard it said, sir," Cai went on, 
 with the air of one carefully, even elaborately, deferring 
 to superior ignorance, " as how than seals you can have 
 17
 
 258 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 no surer sign of hard weather. Of mermaids, I says 
 nothing, except that with such-like creatures about you 
 may count 'pon something out of the common." 
 
 " Since," said the Lord Proprietor, " there are no 
 such things as mermaids, we will confine ourselves to 
 seals. I had no idea that seals — er — frequented our 
 shores." 
 
 " No more they don't, unless summat extr'ord'ny 
 has taken the weather. But I've heard tell of a season 
 when, for weeks together, you could count up two or 
 three score baskin' on the beaches to the north of the 
 Island here. Sam Leggo can tell you all about it " — 
 Cai jerked a thumb in the direction of North Iniscaw 
 Farm. " He and his father used to hunt them, one 
 time, along with Phil Cara of St. Hugh's. You know 
 where th' old adit goes into the cliff under Carn 
 Coppa ? Well, they tell me that if you follow the adit 
 for fifty yards you come to a kind of pit that breaks 
 straight down and through the roof of a cave — Ogo 
 Vean, they call it — to the east of Piper's Hole, and 
 this cave fairly swarmed with seals. The three men 
 would lower themselves by rope-ladders — I reckon old 
 Leggo had learnt the trick of it in bygone days when 
 the Free-traders used the adit — and get down upon a 
 strip of firm shingle at the inner end of the cave ; and 
 there Sam Leggo would hold the lantern while his 
 father and Phil Cara blazed away. They never shot 
 more than a brace at a time, because of the difficulty 
 of getting the bodies up the ladder, for they had to be 
 gone before high-water, and likewise there was always 
 a danger that the seals might charge 'em in a herd, 
 bein' angered by the loss of their mates. In this way 
 they pretty well cleared out the cave — all but one 
 great beauty that old Leggo had sworn to take alive.
 
 LORD PROPRIETOR HEARS A SIREN SING 259 
 
 For instead of bein' yellow or motley-brown like the 
 rest, this fellow was white as milk all over, besides 
 bein' powerful as any other two. He seemed to know 
 from the first that the three men didn't mean to shoot 
 him. The lanterns and the firing never hurried him a 
 bit, and he never threw himself into a rage, like the 
 rest, over the loss of his relations. He just kept out of 
 reach, looking like as if he despised the whole business, 
 and refused to quit. He was cautious, too; wouldn' 
 trust the cave in weather when a boat could follow him 
 and block up the entrance. On fine nights he had a 
 favourite rock just outside Ogo Vean — you can see it 
 from the top of the cliff — and there he'd lie asleep and 
 dare 'em ; out of reach, but plain enough to see, even 
 in the dark, because of his white skin. 
 
 " Now, as you may have taken notice, sir, the tide 
 runs out dry to this rock on the inshore side ; but sea- 
 ward it goes down, even at low springs, into more'n 
 three fathoms of water, and my gentleman always took 
 his forty winks on the seaward slope. Half a dozen 
 times did Phil Cara, thinkin' to catch him " 
 
 " I beg your pardon," interrupted Sir Csesar, " ' Cara,' 
 did you say ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir; Philip Cara, father to Eli Tregarthen's 
 wife, over to Saaron ; and likewise, of course, to Eli 
 Tregarthen's wife's sister, that is lodging at Saaron 
 Farm, having come home from service a while back." 
 
 "Eh? From service?" the Lord Proprietor echoed, 
 with quickened interest. " What sort of service ? " 
 
 " Why, as to that, sir, I can't say that I can tell you 
 for certain ; but it's somewhere's on the mainland, and 
 the young woman seems a very respectable young 
 woman. But whether she means to bide wi' the family 
 or has come home to lodge while lookin' out for
 
 26o MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 another place, I can't certainly say — the Tregarthens 
 bein' a close-tongued lot, as you know," 
 
 " A lady's-maid ? " hazarded the Lord Proprietor. 
 
 " Maybe. Well, as I was tellin' you, half a dozen 
 times did Phil Cara, bidin' his time till the tide was 
 low and the sand hard " 
 
 " But it's impossible," said the Lord Proprietor, 
 pursuing his own train of thought. 
 
 Cai regarded his master rather in sorrow than in 
 anger. " To be sure, sir," said he, in a tone of delicate 
 rebuke, " if you don't want to hear my story " 
 
 " Eh ? Yes, certainly ; my wits were wool-gathering, 
 Cai, and I beg your pardon. Let me see. . . . You 
 were saying that Cara used to wait till the tide was 
 low " 
 
 "Yes, sir. He'd creep along the sand, he and the 
 two Leggos, and th' old seal would lie there sleepin', 
 innocent as a child, and let them come close under the 
 rock, and even climb it. But soon as ever they made 
 a pounce — cl'k ! — he rolled off the slope and into deep 
 water. Regular as clockwork it happened ; quiet and 
 easy as a door on a greased hinge ; and every time it 
 made the three look foolisher and foolisher. 
 
 " After half a dozen tries, Cara allowed that he 
 couldn' go on bein' made a mock by a dumb animal ; 
 so he set his brain to work, and thought out a new 
 plan. The two Leggos were to take a boat and drop 
 down wi' the tide close under the shadow of the rock 'pon 
 the seaward side, while Cara himself crept as usual, 
 hands-an'-knees, across the beach. So they planned, 
 an' so they did ; and sure enough when Cara made a 
 pounce for the seal, my gentleman rolled down the 
 ledge and slap into the boat! 'Now you've got en!' 
 yells Cara. ' Darn it all ! ' yells back old Leggo from
 
 LORD PROPRIETOR HEARS A SIREN SING 261 
 
 the scuffle, ' seems more like he's got WE ! ' For that 
 seal, sir, fought like ten tom-cats ; and before the 
 Leggos got in a lucky stroke and knocked him silly 
 with a stretcher he'd ripped one leg off th' old man's 
 trousers and bitten the heel clean off Sam's right boot. 
 They took him home and skinned him, and sold the 
 skin that same year to a Dutch skipper for thirty 
 shillin'. But Sam has told me more than twice that 
 he don't mean to tempt Providence again by catchin' 
 any more seals." 
 
 The Lord Proprietor looked at his watch. " I must 
 get Leggo to show me that adit this very afternoon. 
 I've an appointment at three-thirty to meet him and 
 Tregarthen at the farm." 
 
 " Indeed, sir ? Then you've brought Eli Tregarthen 
 to his senses ? — if I may make so bold." 
 
 The Lord Proprietor flushed, remembering that Cai 
 had witnessed the interview in the walled garden. " I 
 fancy the man has begun to see the red light," he 
 answered carelessly. "At any rate, he has consented 
 to meet me and take a look over North Iniscaw." 
 
 " Well," said Cai, " you'll find him a good farmer— 
 none better." 
 
 " And he'll find me a landlord willing to let bygones 
 be bygones. By the way," added Sir Caesar, yet more 
 carelessly, " I am curious to know if I met that sister- 
 in-law of his the other day?— a decidedly handsome 
 woman, and strikingly well dressed. In fact, I should 
 say she bought her clothes in Paris." 
 
 Cai stared, as though his master had suddenly taken 
 leave of his senses. 
 
 " I've never been to Paris," he said slowly. " When 
 I seen her last she was nettin' sand-eels, with her legs 
 bare to the knee."
 
 262 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Sir Caesar walked indoors to fetch his hat and his 
 gun. Though he rarely used it, he invariably carried 
 a gun under his arm in his walks about the Islands. 
 It helped his sense of being monarch of all he sur- 
 veyed. 
 
 That sense was strong in him as he took the path 
 which led across the middle of the Island to North 
 Iniscaw Farm. St. Lide's lay directly behind him, to 
 the south, and thus no Garrison Hill obtruded upon 
 his view to remind him of annoyances. The sea shone, 
 the air was pure, the whole seascape flashed white upon 
 blue — white gulls wheeling aloft, white breasts of 
 puffins congregated on the smaller islets, white caps 
 of tiny waves where the breeze met the tide-race ; on 
 North Island the white shaft of a lighthouse fronting 
 the almost level sun. With a touch of imagination the 
 scene had become a prospect of the Cyclades, the 
 lighthouse a column to Aphrodite or the twin brothers 
 of Helen. But the Lord Proprietor was a Briton. He 
 halted on the hillside to inhale the vigorous breeze, 
 and his heart rejoiced that all he saw belonged to 
 him. 
 
 The path descended a stony hillside, crossed a 
 marshy green hollow, and mounted a second stony hill. 
 Over the summit of it the low roofs of a line of farm- 
 buildings hove into sight. This was North Iniscaw ; 
 and the Lord Proprietor, arriving punctually at three- 
 thirty, found Eli Tregarthen at the gate in converse 
 with Sam Leggo, the hind in temporary charge of the 
 farm. 
 
 If Eli had begun to see reason, his face held out no 
 promise of it. It was dark and gloomy ; a trifle weary, 
 too, as though he kept this appointment rather through 
 politeness than with any care for its outcome. He
 
 LORD PROPRIETOR HEARS A SIREN SING 263 
 
 saluted the Lord Proprietor respectfully, but at once 
 bent his eyes to the ground. 
 
 " Good - afternoon ! Good - afternoon, Tregarthen ! " 
 Sir Csesar began, in his heartiest voice, to show that 
 he bore no malice. " I like punctuality, and those who 
 practise it. Punctuality, if I may say so, is not a 
 widespread virtue in these Islands. Shall we go round 
 and take stock ? " 
 
 " If it will give you satisfaction, sir," assented Eli. 
 
 Sir Csesar led the way, pausing at every gate to 
 discuss the soil, the crop, the present price of oats, 
 barley, roots, of beef and mutton ; drainage and top- 
 dressing ; aspect and shelter ; a hundred odds and ends, 
 lie talked uncommonly good sense, too, as Eli confessed 
 to himself The Lord Proprietor had taken up with 
 agriculture late in life, but he brought to it a trained 
 and thoroughly practical mind. Once or twice he 
 submitted a point to Sam Leggo, who had worked all 
 his life on this very farm, and Eli was forced to admire 
 the pertinence of his questions and cross-questions. 
 
 He talked with great good-humour, too, although EH 
 gave it small encouragement. The prospect of leaving 
 Saaron had hung over Eli's mind for more than two 
 months, heavy, oppressive, but until this morning 
 intangible as a cloud. Vashti had remarked that the 
 days deadened him while they should have been 
 nerving him to action ; and Vashti, this very morning, 
 had forced his eyes open by asking, in a business-like 
 way, if he had ever thought of emigrating to the main- 
 land. " Were it not wiser, since the wrench must come, 
 to make it complete ? — to go where regret would not be 
 kept aching by the daily sight of Saaron ? The children 
 would find better schools on the mainland, and it was 
 high time to be thinking of Matthew Henry, who
 
 264 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 deserved a better education than the Islands could 
 afford." 
 
 In arguing thus, Vashti was not entirely serious. She 
 knew that Eli would never cut himself loose from the 
 Islands ; but she hoped, by forcing him to face the 
 alternative, to shake him out of his torpor. In this she 
 had partly succeeded. For the first time the man 
 opened his eyes and saw hard facts — facts that in a 
 few weeks' time he must grapple with, since neither 
 grieving nor grumbling would remove them. But for 
 the moment the discovery merely inflamed his wrath. 
 
 A strong man, finding himself helpless, suffers 
 horribly. Especially he suffers when, with a dim sense 
 that in the last resort all power depends on strength, 
 he finds himself tripped up and laid on his back by a 
 man physically his inferior. Had the Lord Proprietor 
 inherited the Islands from a line of ancestors — had his 
 tyranny rested on any feudal tradition — Eli was Briton 
 enough to have acquiesced or submitted. But this 
 whipper-snapper had bought the Islands: money alone 
 gave him power over men who were Islanders by birth 
 and by long generations of breeding. While the Lord 
 Proprietor talked, Eli felt an impulse almost uncon- 
 trollable to lay hands on him and wring his neck. 
 
 The three men had reached Pare Coppa, an enclosure 
 of twelve acres bounded along the north by the cliffs' 
 edge, and deriving its name from a mass of granite rock 
 — 'Carn Coppa — that, rising in ledges from near the 
 middle of the field, runs northward until it breaks away 
 precipitously, overhanging the sea. The slopes around 
 the base of the Carn showed here and there an outcrop 
 of granite, but with pockets of deep soil in which (or so 
 the Lord Proprietor maintained) barley could be grown, 
 and at a profit. He appealed to Eli,
 
 LORD PROPRIETOR HEARS A SIREN SING 265 
 
 "Come, what does Mr. Tregarthen say to it? A 
 piece of ground like this — hey ? — oughtn't to beat a man 
 that has grown barley on Saaron." 
 
 He said it intending no offence, but in a bluff, hearty 
 way, which he meant to be genial. After a second or 
 two, Eli not answering, he turned and saw, to his 
 amazement, that the man was trembling from head to 
 foot with wrath. 
 
 "What right have you? What right " Eli 
 
 stammered fiercely, and came to a full stop, clenching 
 his fists. 
 
 The Lord Proprietor stared at him. 
 
 " My good fellow, 1 hadn't the smallest wish to hurt 
 your feelings. What ails you? An innocent remark, 
 surely ! " 
 
 "What ails me?" echoed Eli, and stopped again, 
 panting. " Man, have done with this, and let me go ! 
 Else ril not promise to keep my hands off you ! " 
 
 For a moment he stood threatening, his eyes — like 
 the eyes of a dumb animal at bay — travelling from the 
 Lord Proprietor to Sam Leggo. The blood had ebbed 
 from his face and left it unnaturally white. But of a 
 sudden he appeared to collect himself. He thrust both 
 hands in his pockets, and, turning his back, walked 
 away resolutely down the slope. 
 
 " Well ! " said Sam Leggo, after a pause. " Well ! " 
 
 " The man has never been thwarted before," said the 
 Lord Proprietor, as they gazed after him together. 
 " That's what comes of living alone in a place like 
 Saaron ; and I'll take care his children don't learn the 
 same folly. Feels the curb, as you might say. Have 
 you ever seen a horse broken late in life ? " 
 
 "You take it very quiet, sir, I must say," protested 
 Sam admiringly. " So disrespectful as he was, too ;
 
 266 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 and to the likes of you ! Well, I've known Eli 
 Tregarthen forty year, and if any man had come and 
 told me " 
 
 " The worst is, we have wasted an afternoon," said 
 Sir Caisar easily. " But since we are here, with half 
 an hour to spare before sunset, what do you say to 
 showing me the adit ? " 
 
 "The adit, sir?" 
 
 " There's an old adit hereabouts — eh ? — that leads 
 down to a cave. . . . Come, come, my good man, you 
 don't deceive me by putting on that stupid face ! We 
 don't allow smuggling on the Islands in these days, 
 and I like to know the secrets of my own property. 
 The cave is called Ogo Vean, or something like it ; and 
 if I must explain more precisely, it is where you and 
 your father used to go hunting seals." 
 
 " Yes, yes, to be sure," Sam admitted ; " an adit there 
 is, or used to be. But," he went on more cheerfully, 
 "you'll find it nothing to look at. I han't set foot 
 inside it for years, and I doubt but the entrance is 
 choked." 
 
 " Take me to it," said Sir Caesar. 
 
 Sam led the way. They scrambled out to the edge 
 of the Carn, and there, where the last great boulder 
 thrust itself forward over the sea, Sam climbed off to 
 the left, and lowered himself down upon a turfy ledge. 
 Warning his master to leave his gun behind and beware 
 of the slippery grass, he sidled out alongside the jutting 
 slab, and suddenly ducked under it. The Lord Pro- 
 prietor, following, crawled under the stone, and found 
 himself staring into the mouth of the adit — a dark hole 
 less than four feet in height, and overgrown with ivy. 
 Sam had spoken the truth. The passage, whithersoever 
 it led, had been disused for years.
 
 LORD PROPRIETOR HEARS A SIREN SING 267 
 
 " Cur'ous old place ! " said Sam reflectively, plucking 
 at the ivy. " I've a mind to try the inside of it again, 
 one of these days." 
 
 " I've a mind to explore it now," said the Lord Pro- 
 prietor. 
 
 Sam stared at him. " You couldn't, sir ; not without 
 a lantern. You'd be breakin' your neck, to a 
 certainty." 
 
 " Then fetch a lantern. Look sharp, man ! Run 
 back to the farm and fetch a lantern. I'll wait for you 
 — no, not here : a few minutes on this ledge would turn 
 my head giddy — but on the Cam above." 
 
 Without further words, he worked his body around 
 carefully, and led the way back to the summit. 
 
 " You'd best hurry," he advised Sam, who showed no 
 eagerness for the job. " In another twenty minutes the 
 dusk will be closing down fast." 
 
 Sam slouched off at a fair pace across the field. Sir 
 Caesar watched his retreating figure until it reached the 
 gate, and then, picking up his gun, disposed himself to 
 wait. 
 
 "Seals? They ought to give good sport — better 
 sport, he should imagine, than deer-stalking. He must 
 consult Sam about it, and pick up S few wrinkles." He 
 peered over the edge of the Carn, scanning the water, 
 two hundred feet below him, for the rock which Cai had 
 described. He could see no such rock. Maybe, 
 though, it would be covered by the tide, now close 
 upon high-water. 
 
 Then he bethought him that the rock must lie a 
 little to the west, towards Piper's Hole— that is to say, 
 in the next small indentation of the shore. He strolled 
 in that direction, following the cliff's edge, still with 
 eyes upon the sea.
 
 268 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 Of a sudden he stopped and straightened himself up 
 with a gasp. 
 
 What sound was that? . . . Surely a voice — a 
 woman's voice — singing up to him from the depth ! 
 
 Was he awake or dreaming? . . . Beyond all doubt 
 someone was singing, down there : a mournful, wordless 
 song. He was no judge of music, but it seemed to him 
 that, let alone the mystery of the singer, he had never 
 heard a voice so wonderful. It rose and fell with the 
 surge of the tide. 
 
 The Lord Proprietor laid down his gun. He had 
 come to a shelving slope that descended like a funnel 
 or the half of a broken crater, narrowing to a dark 
 pit, in which the sea heaved gently, but with a sound 
 as of a monster sobbing ; but still above this sound rose 
 the voice of the singer. 
 
 He flung himself on the verge beside his gun and 
 craned forward. . . . Yes, there was the rock ; yes, and 
 there on the rock sat a figure — a woman — and combed 
 her long hair while she sang ! 
 
 1!
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 LINNET SEES A MERMAID 
 
 ANNET, Linnet, and Matthew Henry sat together 
 in a niche of the cliff to the west of Piper's Hole, 
 and panted after their climb. 
 
 They had raced up the hill in the gathering twilight ; 
 for this (their Aunt Vazzy had assured them) was the 
 time, if ever, to hear the mermaids singing in Piper's 
 Hole, and perhaps to catch a glimpse of them ; this, 
 and the hour of moonrise — which for them would be 
 out of the question. 
 
 For some days they had been discussing the adven- 
 ture — not, it scarcely needs to be said, in their parents' 
 hearing. But they had once or twice consulted with 
 Aunt Vazzy, who understood children, and had a sense 
 (denied to most grown-ups) of what was really interest- 
 ing ; and to-day, at dinner-time, Aunt Vazzy had allowed 
 that no time could well be more propitious than this 
 evening, when the hours of twilight and of low water 
 almost exactly coincided. But in private she warned 
 Annet very earnestly to look well after the two younger 
 ones, and see to it that they did not risk their necks — a 
 caution seldom given to Island children, who grow up 
 sure-footed as young goats. 
 
 Annet had promised. The main difficulty would be 
 
 to give the slip to Jan, who usually pulled across from 
 
 Saaron in good time to fetch them home, and smoked 
 
 269
 
 2/0 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 a pipe by the shore while waiting for school to be 
 dismissed. It would take them a good forty minutes 
 to reach Piper's Hole and return. If they gave Jan 
 the slip and delayed him so long, he would undoubtedly 
 lose his temper, and probably report them. After dis- 
 cussing this, they decided to take Jan into the plot. 
 " Maybe," said Annet, " he'll come along, too. I almost 
 think he will if we put it to him all of a sudden, for 
 he's mighty curious about mermaids ; but if we give 
 him time to think it over he'll feel ashamed, and say 
 it's all children's whiddles, and back out. I know Jan, 
 So we must wait till school is over and then coax him 
 to come." 
 
 Annet did not know that her father, having an ap- 
 pointment with the Lord Proprietor at North Iniscaw 
 Farm, designed himself to call at the school on his way 
 back, and row the children home. Had she guessed 
 this, it would have prevented the adventure, which, in 
 fact, it furthered ; for, coming out of school and hurry- 
 ing down to the shore to catch Jan and wheedle him, 
 she found the boat moored there empty. Jan, no 
 doubt, had taken a stroll up to the Lord Proprietor's 
 garden, to have a croak with Cai Jenkins. They had 
 caught him napping, and now, if they kept him waiting, 
 he could not grumble. 
 
 So off the three children set for Piper's Hole; Annet 
 and Linnet with long strides, Matthew Henry trotting 
 to keep up with them. Arrived at the cliff's edge, they 
 deployed with great caution — that no noise might scare 
 the mermaids from coming forth — and searched for a 
 nook where, themselves hidden, they could command a 
 view of the cove at their feet. 
 
 Linnet, exploring to the westward, found just such a 
 spot; a rocky ledge, well grassed, close under the top-
 
 LINNET SEES A MERMAID 271 
 
 most cornice of the cliff, and quite easy of access. To 
 be sure, a rock on their right cut off their view of the 
 cove's inmost recess, where the funnel-shaped slope 
 broke sheer over the mouth of the Hole. But the 
 ledge looked full upon the Mermaid's Rock, and upon 
 the heave of black water surging past it to gurgitate 
 between the narrowing walls of rock. 
 
 Even the matter-of-fact Linnet felt a shiver run 
 over her as, after panting a while, she raised herself 
 on one elbow and looked down into the awesome 
 pit. For not only was the water black, but the whole 
 shadowed base of the cliff wall ; black as though stained 
 by the inky wave. Black, too, showed the hither side 
 of the Mermaid's Rock against a grey sea, from which 
 the last tint of sunset had faded. Now and then, 
 between the sobbing of Piper's Hole, the children 
 caught the murmur of the tide-race, half a mile off 
 shore, slackening its note as it neared the time of 
 high-water and its turning point. Out there, too, 
 the sea was agitated ; within the line of the race, 
 sharply defined on the grey, it heaved and sank on 
 an oily swell. 
 
 " My ! " said Matthew Henry, gazing ; and Annet 
 turned on her sister and said, " There, now ! " The 
 words may seem inadequate, but Linnet understood 
 them, and that they conveyed a question which she 
 felt to be a poser. How could she doubt the existence 
 of mermaids in such a spot as this? If a mermaid were 
 to swim up to the surface under their very eyes, would 
 she be more wonderful than the actual scene — the black 
 rocks, the sobbing water ? 
 
 " Folks," said Annet incisively, " that laugh at stories 
 about Piper's Hole ought to come and see the place for 
 themselves."
 
 272 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " Yes," Matthew Henry agreed ; " and after that they 
 can begin to talk." 
 
 " I didn't laugh," protested Linnet, flung upon her 
 defence. " Besides," she went on weakly, " I don't 
 see why it nmust be mermaids. If anything lives 
 down there, why shouldn't it be a dragon — or a giant, 
 perhaps " 
 
 " Linnet is improving," put in Matthew Henry, with 
 fine sarcasm. 
 
 " Well, it sounds to me more like the noise a dragon 
 would make," Linnet persisted, finding, as she went on, 
 that her argument was carrying her through very 
 creditably; "or a giant snoring, as they always do 
 after meals." 
 
 Annet scanned the black water pensively. " I've 
 heard tell," she said, " of great cuttles that sit and 
 squat under the water ; and sometimes, when they are 
 hungry, they fling up their great suckers and pull you 
 down off the rocks and eat you." 
 
 Matthew Henry drew back from the brink. 
 
 " Look here," he began, " I don't mind mermaids. 
 Mermaids, so far as they go " 
 
 But here he came to a halt as a tinkling sound — the 
 sound of a stringed instrument gently thrummed — rose 
 from out of the abyss. 
 
 It fell on their ears in a pause of the surging water. 
 It came from the Mermaid's Rock, and thither all three 
 children turned their eyes, to see, over the crest of it, 
 from its hidden seaward side, a woman's head and 
 shoulders emerge into view ! 
 
 In the gathering dusk, even had she lifted her face 
 to them, they could not have discerned her features. 
 But as she climbed into view her loosened hair fell 
 all about her : on the summit of the rock she turned
 
 LINNET SEES A MERMAID 273 
 
 and seated herself fronting the sea ; and while the 
 three children drew together, cowering, at gaze, she 
 began to sing. 
 
 And she sang marvellously. If her song had words, 
 they were foreign words ; but whether articulate or 
 not it was beautiful beyond all human compass ; or 
 so at least it seemed to the children, whose experience 
 rested, to be sure, on the congregational efforts of 
 Brefar Church. 
 
 It rose and sank upon the swell of the tide. It 
 held such sweetness in its mystery that, frightened 
 though they were, the wonder of it drew tears to 
 their eyes. It seemed to open pathways into that 
 world of their desire on the boundaries of which 
 they were for ever treading, yet for ever vainly, 
 because they had not the passwords and in their 
 ignorance could guess only that miracles lay beyond, 
 sealed, unimaginable. 
 
 And still, as the children lost their fear in wonder, the 
 voice of the mermaid, growing more and more confident, 
 pierced new roads for them, and yet more roads ; roads 
 upon which the twilight closed at once ; rays from a 
 glory they felt, and trembled to feel, but could not 
 apprehend, because the vision was of mere beauty, and 
 music divorced from words is the last of arts to convey 
 form and meaning. Yet it spoke of something to which 
 they felt all their blood thrilling, responding. Listening, 
 they forgot their fear altogether. . . . 
 
 The singer laid down her instrument. The grey of 
 the twilight ran over her bare shoulders as, with a turn 
 of the arm, she swept her tresses back, and — still singing 
 — drew out mirror and comb. 
 
 They craned to watch. 
 
 Suddenly from the height of the cliff, close on their 
 18
 
 274 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 right, rang out the report of a gun. The song ceased 
 abruptly, lost in the echoes that beat from cliff to cliff, 
 and amid these echoes the children heard a noise of 
 falling stones, followed by a heavy splash. 
 
 Annet had sprung to her feet. Linnet and Matthew 
 Henry, too, had picked themselves up, though more 
 slowly. ... A wisp of smoke drifted by the rock to 
 their right. When they turned their eyes upon the 
 Mermaid's Rock, the singer had vanished. 
 
 Annet caught Matthew Henry by one hand : Matthew 
 Henry stretched out the other to Linnet. The three 
 scrambled up to the cliff-top, and thence raced home- 
 ward, panic-stricken, across the darkening fields.
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 MISSING! 
 
 " O IR, — I am directed by the Secretary of State for 
 v^ War to acknowledge receipt of your letter of 
 the 19th ultimo, the contents of which shall receive his 
 attention. — I am, sir, your obedient servant, 
 
 "J. Fleetwood Cunningham" 
 
 The Commandant, from long disuse, had forgotten 
 the formalities of official correspondence. His hand 
 had shaken as he tore open the long envelope, expecting 
 to read his fate, and, in the revulsion, as his eyes fell on 
 the few lines of acknowledgment, he caught at the 
 table's edge with a sudden feeling of faintness. 
 
 For a few hours, then — possibly for a few days — he 
 was respited. He put the letter aside, and walked out 
 to take his afternoon stroll around the fortifications and 
 steady his nerves. 
 
 By the Keg of Butter Battery he halted for a long 
 look across the Sound and towards Saaron. Uncon- 
 sciously, for a week past, he had fallen into a habit of 
 halting just here and letting his eyes travel towards 
 Saaron. It was just here that Vashti had seated herself, 
 the first morning, and had asked him the fatal question, 
 " For what, then, do they pay you ? " He remembered 
 the words, the inflection of scorn in her voice. Here at 
 his feet on a cushion of wild thyme lay the stone she 
 
 275
 
 276 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 had prised out absently, while she spoke, with the point 
 of her sunshade. Just here, too, she had taken leave of 
 him on the night of her escapade, the night when (it 
 was bliss to remember) she had recanted her scorn and 
 asked his forgiveness. 
 
 For a whole week he had not seen her. Was she 
 careless, then, of the answer? — of what resulted from 
 the train she had fired ? But, after all (the Commandant 
 told himself), she had no need to concern herself about 
 it. She had but set him in the way of doing his duty ; 
 for the rest, a man must accept his own responsibility, 
 stand by his own actions, abide his own fate. 
 
 Yet he would have given a great deal, just now, for 
 speech with her; to tell her that, unimportant though 
 it was, some word from the War Office had reached him. 
 Throughout his stroll his mind kept harking back to 
 this letter, seeking behind the few and formal words for 
 meanings they did not cover : and again that evening, 
 after his frugal supper, he drew the envelope from its 
 pigeon-hole, spread the paper on the table before him, 
 and sat studying it. 
 
 He lifted his head sharply at a sound in the passage. 
 The outer door had been burst open, as though by a 
 gust of wind, and a moment later Archelaus came 
 running in with a face of panic. 
 
 " The Lord behear us ! " gasped Archelaus. " Oh, 
 sir, here's awful, awful news ! The Lord Proprietor's 
 been murdered, and his body flung over the cliff, and 
 Sam Leggo and Cai the gardener be running through 
 the streets wi' the news of it ! " 
 
 " Murdered ? The Lord Proprietor ? " echoed the 
 Commandant, laying down his glasses and rising to his 
 feet in blankest amaze. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; shot with his own gun, and, they say, by
 
 MISSING ! 277 
 
 EH Tregarthen ! The two men have pulled across from 
 Iniscaw for help, and to fetch the constable. I had the 
 news from Sam Leggo hisself, as he raced off to knock 
 up Mr. Pope." 
 
 The Commandant sank back in his chair. Dreadful 
 though the news was, he saw in a flash that it was not 
 incredible. His thoughts flew to Vashti. 
 
 But even as he passed a hand over his eyes, another 
 footstep invaded the outer passage, and Mr. Pope 
 himself rushed in, mopping his brow. 
 
 " My dear friend ! " Not in his life before had Mr. 
 Pope addressed the Commandant as " my dear friend." 
 He glanced from one scared face to the other. " You 
 have heard ? Oh, but it is terrible ! And what on 
 earth are we to do ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon," answered the Commandant, 
 recovering his presence of mind. " ' We,' did you 
 say?" 
 
 "Naturally I came first to you. . . . You being a 
 magistrate, and — if this dreadful news be true — the only 
 magistrate left on the Islands." 
 
 " True," said the Commandant, yet more quietly. 
 He had regained his self-possession. " I had forgotten. 
 To be sure, I had renounced the office — as I supposed, 
 at the Lord Proprietor's own wish; but doubtless it 
 reverts to me, and, in any case, this is no time to discuss 
 proprieties. Will you tell me what has happened and 
 what has already been done ? " 
 
 " Done ? I have done nothing except send for the 
 constable, with word that he was to follow me here to 
 the barracks and take your orders." 
 
 " But where is the body ? " 
 
 "The body?" Mr. Pope shivered. "God knows. 
 That, my dear Commandant, is the cruellest part of the
 
 278 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 mystery — at least, according to Sam Leggo. It appears 
 that Sir Caesar, Leggo, and Eli Tregarthen were at 
 North Iniscaw this afternoon, taking stock of the farm, 
 which Sir Caesar was persuading Tregarthen to rent. 
 Tregarthen was sullen — you may have heard that he 
 resents being given notice to quit his holding on Saaron. 
 In the end, on some chance word of Sir Caesar's he 
 blazed up, completely lost control of himself, and used 
 threats of personal violence. Leggo will swear to this ; 
 but it is immaterial, for I myself have heard him indulge 
 in similar threats, and so has Cai Jenkins the gardener. 
 Well, Tregarthen swung off in a huff, took his way 
 down across Pare Coppa — it was there, just under the 
 Carn, that the outbreak occurred — apparently for the 
 landing-quay by the school, where his boat lay. He 
 left Sir Caesar and Sam Leggo standing," 
 
 " At what time ? " 
 
 " The time, according to Leggo, was close upon 
 sunset. Sir Caesar — as his habit is — carried a gun under 
 his arm ; but whether or not the gun was loaded Leggo 
 is unable to say. After expressing surprise at Tregar- 
 then's display of temper. Sir Caesar turned the conversa- 
 tion upon an old adit which lies under the seaward face 
 of the Carn, and leads (I am assured) down to Ogo 
 Vean. Its existence is known to very few, and Leggo 
 was surprised to hear him mention it ; but it now 
 appears that he had learnt of it this very afternoon, in 
 casual talk with Cai Jenkins. He desired then and 
 there to explore it, and — having examined the entrance 
 — either because the adit itself is dark, or as a precau- 
 tion in the gathering dusk, he sent Leggo back to the 
 farmhouse to fetch a lantern. Leggo declares that it 
 took him less than twenty minutes to reach the farm, 
 find the lantern, and return with it to the lower gate of
 
 MISSING ! 279 
 
 Pare Coppa: also that he used his best speed because 
 the dusk was gathering. As he reached the gate he 
 heard a shot from somewhere on the edge of the cliffs. 
 This did not perturb him, for he supposed that the Lord 
 Proprietor was potting at a stray rabbit. As he climbed 
 the field, however, towards the Carn, on the summit of 
 which he had left Sir Caesar seated, he saw three small 
 children running along the cliffs to his left, making for 
 the slope towards the landing-quay, and recognised 
 them for Tregarthen's three children. He called to 
 them to stop, for they seemed to be running in a panic. 
 If they heard, they did not obey, but ran down the hill 
 out of sight. By this — and because he could not see 
 Sir Caesar on the summit of the Carn — he began to 
 grow alarmed, lit the candle within his lantern (for it 
 was now nearly dark), and shouted. He received no 
 answer. He ran to the edge of the Carn, climbed down 
 thence to the mouth of the adit, and — finding no trace 
 of his master — began to hunt, still shouting, along the 
 cliffs to the left, in the direction where he had first spied 
 the children. To cut his story short," resumed Mr. 
 Pope, after taking breath, "his search led him to the 
 edge of the cliffs over Piper's Hole, and there, in a 
 tangle of brambles, his lantern shone on something 
 bright, which proved, when at no small risk he climbed 
 down to it, to be the barrel of Sir Caesar's gun. Below 
 the brambles (he says) the ground breaks away very 
 precipitously to a sheer fell of rock over the entrance of 
 Piper's Hole. He could not trust himself here, but 
 declares that the earth below the brambles — so much 
 his lantern showed him — had evidently been disturbed, 
 and quite recently ; as also that the slide was bare and 
 smooth to the last ledge over which a falling body would 
 plunge into the water : and the tide, as he says — and
 
 28o MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 as, indeed, we know — was almost at full flood. Having 
 satisfied himself of this, he ran back, down the hill and 
 past the school, to carry the alarm to the house ; and 
 from the quay beside the school he saw Tregarthen's 
 boat crossing to Saaron, and Tregarthen in it with his 
 three children. Sam called to him, and his call brought 
 out the schoolmistress, who no sooner heard the story 
 than she fell to screaming. Tregarthen, though he 
 must have heard the noise they made, did not respond, 
 but continued pulling calmly towards Saaron." 
 
 " How far across was he when first summoned ? " asked 
 the Commandant. 
 
 " Leggo could not say precisely, but admits that the 
 boat was already nearing Saaron, and that the man, if 
 he heard, possibly did not understand — that is, if one 
 can suppose him innocent." 
 
 "We will suppose him innocent," said the Com- 
 mandant, " until we have better evidence that he is 
 guilty. What was Leggo's next step ? " 
 
 " He ran on smoking-hot to the Priory, the school- 
 mistress after him ; up through the gardens to the 
 terrace, where they met Cai Jenkins returning home 
 from work. The schoolmistress went on to alarm the 
 servants, while the two men made for the private landing, 
 unmoored the Lord Proprietor's boat, and pulled across 
 for Garland Town to break the news to me. But on 
 the quay and along the streets they told it to a score of 
 people, and it is spreading through the town like wild- 
 fire." 
 
 "Naturally." The Commandant had fetched and 
 slipped on his greatcoat, and stood buttoning it. He 
 glanced at his watch. "If the constable does not turn 
 up in a minute or so, we must start without him. 
 Archelaus, run you down and call up Mr. Rogers. Ask
 
 MISSING ! 281 
 
 him, with my compliments, to call out the coast- 
 guard." 
 
 "Pardon me," Mr, Pope interrupted, "but that is 
 unnecessary. Mr. Rogers has already started for 
 Iniscaw in the jolly-boat, taking Leggo with him. They 
 are to search the shore around Piper's Hole." 
 
 " Thank you," said the Commandant. " That was 
 obviously the first step to take, and I am obliged to you 
 for having thought of it so promptly." 
 
 Mr. Pope hem'd apologetically. He had grown of a 
 sudden very red in the face. "In point of fact," he 
 confessed, " Mr. Rogers was at my house when the news 
 came. We were — er — indulging in a quiet rubber." 
 
 The Commandant understood. Had the occasion 
 been less serious, he might have smiled. Not since the 
 night which brought Vashti to the Islands had he 
 received an invitation to Mrs. Pope's parties. 
 
 " Ah, to be sure ! " said he quietly, reaching for his 
 forage-cap ; " I had forgotten that this was your whist- 
 cvening." 
 
 Mr. Pope coughed awkwardly, and was about to 
 make matters worse by further apology, but a rat-tat on 
 the door prevented this, and Archelaus, hurrying out, 
 admitted Dr. Bonaday, the physician of Garland 
 Town, followed by John Ward, the constable, and 
 Cai Jenkins. 
 
 Of these three old men thus admitted you would have 
 found it difficult at first sight to decide which was the 
 eldest: and you have not made Dr. Bonaday's acquaint- 
 ance until now, because it was unnecessary. As the 
 saying went in the Islands, " The old doctor troubled 
 about nobody, and nobody troubled about he " — that is, 
 unless an Islander needed to be helped into the world 
 or out of it. He was a bachelor, a recluse, and (albeit
 
 282 MAJOR VIOOUREUX 
 
 his neighbours were ignorant of this) a European 
 authority on lichens and mosses. A small private 
 income allowed him to indulge a habit of forgetting 
 to charge for his professional services ; and, on the 
 strength of it, the Islanders forgave one who never 
 remembered a face, and who, when summoned to a sick- 
 bed, had to be guided thither by a messenger, lest he 
 should knock at half a dozen doors in error by the way. 
 There was a tradition in St. Hugh's that once, running 
 from his surgery with a hot poultice, he had clapped it 
 on the harbour-master, who was politely intercepting 
 him to point out that another two strides would take 
 him over the quay's edge into deep water. In person 
 Dr. Bonaday was remarkable for a completely bald 
 head, a hooked nose, and a pair of vague, imper- 
 ceptive eyes, as of an owl astray and blinking in the 
 sunlight. 
 
 If Dr. Bonaday was an authority on lichens and 
 mosses. Constable Ward was an authority on nothing at 
 all, even in his own house, where his youngest grand- 
 daughter attended to his wants. Amid a population 
 which seldom broke the law and never resisted it, he 
 had sunk of late years into a peaceful decay of all his 
 faculties. To-night he carried his emblem of office, a 
 small mace, attached to his wrist by a string, and his 
 hand shook pitiably as he fumbled for it, but less with 
 excitement than from shock at having been aroused and 
 dragged from his bed into the chill air. 
 
 " I see no reason for taking the constable with us," the 
 Commandant decided, after a compassionate glance at 
 the old man. 
 
 "In case of an arrest " began Mr. Pope. 
 
 " First let us be certain that a crime has been 
 committed."
 
 MISSING ! 383 
 
 "To my thinking, all the circumstances point to 
 murder, and to nothing else." 
 
 " And, if they do, we can accuse no one until we have 
 found the body. Constable, you can go back to 
 bed." 
 
 " I thank you, sir." Constable Ward, for the instant 
 plainly relieved, checked himself, and stood trembling, 
 irresolute. " You mustn't think, gentlemen, that I'd 
 shirk doing my duty." 
 
 " No, no. Ward : I quite understand," the Commandant 
 assured him. 
 
 " The Governor," said Mr. Pope, slipping back to the 
 old form of address, disused for years — " The Governor 
 rather doubts that you are equal to it." 
 
 " For God's sake, gentlemen, don't put it in that way ! 
 This affair'll get into the newspapers, over on the main, 
 and if 'tis said that Constable Ward was too old for his 
 duty, whatever'll become of me? " 
 
 Mr. Pope turned away with a sniff of disgust. 
 " People of a certain class," said he half-audibly, " can 
 see nothing but as it affects themselves. Of his duty 
 this old dotard thinks not at all, nor of the scandal of 
 his continuing to draw public pay : yet mark you how 
 keenly he scents a danger of losing it ! " 
 
 The Commandant winced, and shot a glance at the 
 aged, unheroic figure. " And there," thought he, " but 
 for God's grace and a woman's word, stands Narcisse 
 Vigoureux ! " 
 
 Aloud he said : " Mr. Pope is too hasty. Ward, in 
 suggesting that I don't mean to use you. To-morrow, 
 after a night's rest, there may be work enough for you. 
 Come, we are to pass your door, and will see you home. 
 You, doctor, will accompany us, I hope? We may need 
 you."
 
 284 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " They set forth down the dark road towards the 
 quay, Cai and Archelaus walking ahead with lanterns. 
 Having restored Constable Ward to his youngest grand- 
 daughter, they pushed forward more briskly, hailing the 
 boat which (according to Mr. Pope) would be standing- 
 by for them on Mr. Rogers' instructions. Sure enough, 
 voices answered their hail, and under the shadow of the 
 quay steps they found the six-oared Service gig, with 
 her crew seated ready : also on the quay itself the whole 
 town gathered, canvassing the dreadful news. 
 
 At their approach the confused voices dropped to 
 silence. In silence the town watched its men of authority 
 as they stepped down to the boat and took their seats. 
 And, amid silence, the coxswain called his order, " Give 
 way ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 THE SEARCH 
 
 AHEAD of them, across the Roads, and up the 
 narrow length of Cromwell's Sound, many lights 
 twinkled : for already two-score of boats had put out 
 from St. Lide's Quay and were hurrying to the search, 
 with lanterns and hurricane lamps. The windows of 
 the great house on Iniscaw fairly blazed with light. 
 The upland farmsteads, too, were awake, here and in 
 Brefar, and the cottages around Iniscaw schoolhouse and 
 Brefar Church. Only Saaron, as they passed it, showed 
 no sign of life, no glimmering ray from the windows 
 of Eli Tregarthen's house, dark upon the dark hillside. 
 Mr. Pope called the Commandant's attention to this. 
 
 " Patience ! " said the Commandant. '* We will land 
 and question him on our way home." 
 
 " You will admit that it looks suspicious." 
 
 The Commandant did not answer. 
 
 "If Leggo's story be true," said Dr. Bonaday, ad- 
 dressing the coxswain abruptly, as though awakened 
 of a sudden from a brown study, " the accident must 
 have happened just upon high-water ; in which case Mr. 
 Rogers will do best to start searching to westward along 
 the north shore of Brefar, following the set of the ebb." 
 
 " I reckon he'll take that line, sir, if he finds nothing 
 
 at Piper's Hole," the coxswain answered.. " But his plan, 
 
 as he told it to me, was to land Leggo, with two of 
 
 285
 
 286 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 our men, by the schoolhouse, and send them up the 
 hill with ropes and lanterns, while he pulled round and 
 searched Piper's Hole from seaward." 
 
 The doctor appeared to digest this plan for a full 
 minute. " Pope," he said abruptly, as before, " do you 
 happen to know if the Lord Proprietor had made his will?" 
 
 " Good Lord ! " answered Mr. Pope testily, " I am 
 not his lawyer." 
 
 " He has relatives ? " 
 
 " Some distant cousins, I believe ; none nearer. Why 
 do you ask ? " 
 
 " Because," answered the doctor imperturbably, " it 
 occurred to me as a natural question under the circum- 
 stances. Then it would appear, my friend, that Sir 
 Caesar's decease (if we suppose it) is a very serious 
 affair indeed for you ? " 
 
 "Man alive!" snapped Mr. Pope. "Of what else 
 do you suppose I have been thinking, ever since I 
 heard this news ? " 
 
 Dr. Bonaday did not reply in words ; but the Com- 
 mandant — who happened to be gazing just then towards 
 North Island, where the great sea-light seemed to 
 search the outer tides with its monstrous eye — heard, 
 or fancied that he heard, a sound as of a quiet chuckle. 
 Suddenly he remembered Mr. Pope's scornful criticism 
 of old Constable Ward : remembered it, and glanced at 
 the doctor. But the doctor was an uncanny fellow, 
 and inscrutable. 
 
 Though the coastguardsmen, pulling with a will, 
 overtook and passed at least a dozen boats on their 
 way, it cost them close upon an hour to reach the upper 
 end of Cromwell's Sound and open the coast along the 
 north side of Iniscaw. They had no need to search 
 for Mr. Rogers and the jolly-boat. Flares were burning
 
 THE SEARCH 287 
 
 and torches waving in and around the entrance to 
 Piper's Hole, and as the gig drew closer the Com- 
 mandant discerned the figures of half a dozen searchers, 
 roped and moving cautiously with lanterns from ledge 
 to ledge of the dizzy cliff. The jolly-boat lay beached 
 on a bank of fine shingle left by the receding tide at 
 the entrance of the cave, and beside it stood Mr. Rogers 
 shouting orders. 
 
 He hailed the new-comers as soon as he caught sight 
 of them. Leggo and his two men had found Sir 
 Caesar's gun, and recovered it from the bushes over- 
 hanging the cave. But of Sir Caesar himself no trace 
 could be found. It was clear to his mind that the 
 body had rolled down the cliflf into deep water, and 
 had been carried out to sea. His fellows up yonder 
 had examined every foot of the descent, and were 
 risking their necks to no purpose. He would give 
 them another ten minutes to make a clean job of the 
 search, and would then call them off and seek along 
 shore to the westward. 
 
 Had the cave itself been searched? This was the 
 Commandant's first question as he stepped out upon 
 the shingle. 
 
 Yes ; they had begun by searching the cave. They 
 had followed it for fifty yards, and come to a ridge 
 of rock, heaped with ore-weed, beyond which (it was 
 certain) no ordinary tide ever penetrated. The floor 
 of the cave shelved pretty steeply up to this ridge, and 
 beyond it lay a pool of fresh water, about twenty yards 
 long. It was impossible that a human body could 
 have been swept over the ridge into this pool. Never- 
 theless they had explored it. But would the Com- 
 mandant care to satisfy himself.? 
 
 Mr. Rogers, without waiting for an answer, picked
 
 288 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 up a lantern and led the way under the great arch. 
 The Commandant followed, his feet at every step 
 sinking ankle-deep in the fine shingle. He found him- 
 self in a passage nine or ten feet wide, the walls of 
 which rose about twenty feet above him, and vaulted 
 themselves in darkness. At first this passage appeared 
 to him to end, some fifteen paces from the entrance, 
 in a barrier of solid rock ; but Mr. Rogers, stepping 
 forward with the lantern, revealed a low archway to 
 the left, and a second passage, partially choked with 
 ore-weed. Through this they squeezed themselves, 
 crouching and stooping their heads — for the roof in 
 places was less than five feet high — and after a couple 
 of zigzags, drew breath at the entrance of the second 
 chamber, at least as lofty as the first and a full twenty 
 feet wide. Across the entrance the floor sloped up to 
 the rocky ridge, of which Mr. Rogers had spoken, and 
 beyond the ridge lay the pool. 
 
 "Taste it," said Mr. Rogers, and the Commandant, 
 kneeling by the edge of the pool, scooped up a palmful 
 of water to his lips. It was fresh water undoubtedly ; 
 very cold, and not in the least brackish. 
 
 " Look down," said Mr, Rogers, holding his lantern 
 so that the Commandant could peer into the depths. 
 " You can see every stone at the bottom, and my men 
 have searched it all." He lifted the light high above 
 his head and gazed into the mysterious darkness beyond 
 the pool. " I must explore this place to the end, one 
 of these days. The chief boatman waded through, and 
 reported yet another passage beyond. What a place 
 for seals, hey ? " 
 
 " Seals ? " queried the Commandant. 
 
 " Leggo gave me a sort of description of the place 
 on our way here. He tells me that this cave and the
 
 THE SEARCH 289 
 
 next are a favourite haunt of the seals when they visit 
 the Islands. In fact, he used to hunt them here with 
 his father. But of late years, for some reason, they 
 have given the Islands the go-by." 
 
 " You think it possible," suggested the Commandant, 
 " Sir Caesar may have seen one, and taken a shot at it ? " 
 
 " That's not likely ; and anyway it doesn't help us. 
 It won't account for his gun being found in the bushes 
 half-way down the cliff, nor for his disappearing. 
 Among a deal that's mysterious, this much is clear : 
 Leggo left him on the cliff above us; within twenty 
 minutes Sir Caesar's gun went off, whether fired by 
 himself or by someone else; and whether wounded or 
 not, he slid down the cliff and over the ledge above 
 the cave. His body is not in the cave; therefore, pre- 
 sumably, it was sucked out to sea by the tide and 
 has been carried somewhere to the westward. Shall 
 we turn back ? " 
 
 The Commandant nodded. "You will have plenty 
 of folk to help your search," said he, " to judge from 
 the number of boats we passed on our way. By spread- 
 ing your forces, in three or four hours you can have the 
 whole shore examined, from here to the west of Brefar. 
 By the way, who has possession of Sir Caesar's gun ? " 
 
 " It was passed up to Sam Leggo, on the cliff. Do 
 you wish to take charge of it ? " 
 
 "It will probably be wanted for evidence." 
 
 "Come, then." Mr. Rogers led the way back to 
 the entrance, and called up an order to have the gun 
 lowered by a shore-line; which was done, the coast- 
 guardsmen on the cliffs fending the line clear of the 
 bushes, and so passing it from one to another until it 
 dangled over the ledge within grasp. The Commandant, 
 as the taller, reached up for the gun, took it, and 
 19
 
 290 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 examined it by the light of the lantern which Mr. 
 Rogers held for him. 
 
 The gun was undoubtedly the Lord Proprietor's ; 
 a breechloader of curiously fine workmanship, bearing 
 the name of a famous St. James's Street maker. Of 
 the hammers, one was down, the other at half-cock ; 
 and, pulling open the breech, the Commandant drew 
 forth two cartridges, the one empty, the other unused. 
 He pocketed these and examined the barrels. Clearly, 
 one shot — and one only — had been fired since the gun 
 was last cleaned. 
 
 He invited Mr. Rogers to verify these simple observa- 
 tions ; and then, turning the gun over, was aware 
 of a trace of earth on the trigger-guard and another 
 on the point of the butt. These were easily accounted 
 for. The weapon, no doubt, had slid for some distance 
 down the cliff — probably from the very top — before 
 lodging in the bushes where Leggo had found it. 
 
 Half an hour's exploration of the cave, the cove, the 
 cliff-face had yielded no further clue. Mr. Rogers drew 
 off his men, and, embarking them, started to search the 
 shore to the westward. 
 
 By this time some thirty boats had gathered, and 
 through the long night in every creek and cranny of 
 the shore, from the extreme east of Iniscaw to the 
 extreme west of Brefar, the search went on. The 
 wind, chopping to the north-west, rose to a stiff 
 breeze, and not only blew bitterly cold, with squalls 
 of rain and sleet, but raised a sea that made it dangerous 
 to explore the rocks closely. Nevertheless, not a single 
 boat put back, and not a few took incredible risks. 
 
 Day broke — a dull smur of grey in an interval 
 between two slect-laden squalls ; and in the cheerless 
 light of it the Commandant, who, albeit numb with cold.
 
 THE SEARCH 291 
 
 had not yet found time to feel fatigue, caught sight of 
 Dr. Bonaday's face, and was smitten with sudden com- 
 punction. The old doctor had sat through six distressful 
 hours like the stoic he was ; but his face showed like 
 that of a corpse, and the usually plump and florid 
 cheeks of Mr. Pope hung flaccid, blue with the pinch of 
 the cold, and yellow for lack of sleep. The Commandant 
 spoke to the coxswain, and, running up the gig along- 
 side the jolly-boat, suggested to the indomitable Mr. 
 Rogers that the men were almost dead-beat, to which, 
 indeed, the faces of all bore witness in the broadening 
 daylight. 
 
 " We must not exhaust ourselves utterly," suggested 
 Mr. Pope. " It is already day, and the Council of 
 Twelve ought to meet before noon." 
 
 " Indeed? Why?" asked the Commandant absently, 
 
 " Why, to advertise the Lord Proprietor's disappear- 
 ance, with a printed description of him ! " 
 
 "Is that necessary? Surely by this time everyone in 
 the Islands has heard the news ; and, as for describing 
 him " 
 
 " It is the proper course to pursue," insisted Mr. Pope, 
 who was something of a formalist ; " in such — er — crises 
 one should proceed regularly. Doubtless the Council, 
 when called, will proclaim a reward." 
 
 " For what ? " asked Dr. Bonaday. 
 
 Mr. Pope turned on him impatiently ; but the doctor's 
 eyes, like the simpleton's in Scripture, were fixed on the 
 ends of the earth. "Why, for the discovery of the body," 
 said Mr. Pope. 
 
 "You might offer twenty rewards," said the Com- 
 mandant. " You cannot make men work harder than 
 they have worked to-night. Still, if you desire to 
 summon the Council "
 
 292 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " I am suggesting that you should do so." 
 
 " But I am no longer a member." 
 
 " On the contrary, as Governor, you are now its 
 President." 
 
 The Commandant reflected for a moment. " True," 
 he murmured, " I keep forgetting." Pulling himself 
 together, with a shake of the shoulders, he hailed the 
 jolly-boat again. 
 
 " Mr. Rogers," said he, " you know better than I of 
 how much fatigue your men are capable. For my part, 
 I am returning to summon the Council of the Islands to 
 meet me in the Court House at twelve o'clock noon, to 
 call for volunteers and organise a general search. Your 
 presence and advice will be of the greatest service to 
 us ; and as I see some fresh boats coming up the 
 Sound, I submit that you leave them your instructions 
 and draw off your tired crews to take what rest they 
 need." 
 
 Mr. Rogers looked up sharply, surprised by the new 
 ring of authority in the Commandant's voice. "Very 
 well, sir," he answered, after a pause, " I shall be happy 
 to attend the Council and concert measures with you. 
 It occurs to me that the body may just possibly have 
 been carried towards North Island on a back eddy, and 
 with your leave I will tell the new-coming boats to seek 
 in that direction." 
 
 " I thank you," said the Commandant, and at once 
 gave the word to his own crew to pull for home. 
 " And on our way," he added, " you shall land me for 
 ten minutes at the East Porth, under Saaron Farm." 
 
 At the East Porth, where they found Eli Tregarthen's 
 boat at her moorings off the grass-grown landing-quay, 
 the Commandant stepped ashore. Mr. Pope offered to
 
 THE SEARCH 293 
 
 accompany him, but he decHned, and went up the hill 
 alone. 
 
 At the yard-gate he caught sight of Jan Nanjulian, 
 faring forth with his pails to milk the cows ; and, 
 hailing him, demanded where he might find the farmer, 
 Jan directed him to a line of furze-stacks at the back 
 of the byres ; and, turning the corner of these, he came 
 face to face with Eli Tregarthen, who had loaded 
 himself with a couple of faggots for the kitchen fire. 
 
 " Good-morning ! " said the Commandant. 
 
 "Ah? Good-morning to you, sir," answered Tregarthen, 
 clearly surprised, but showing no sign of guilt or con- 
 fusion. 
 
 " You have heard the news ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " The Lord Proprietor is missing." 
 
 " Missing ? " Tregarthen set down his faggots and 
 stared at the Commandant. 
 
 " He has been missing since yesterday at dusk. I 
 understand that you were in his company shortly before 
 then, on Carn Coppa ? " 
 
 " That is so, sir. I left him and Sam Leggo standing 
 together there at the top of the field." 
 
 " A few minutes later he sent Leggo to the farmhouse 
 to fetch a lantern. Leggo declares that on his way back 
 he heard a gun fired." 
 
 Tregarthen nodded. " That's right. I heard the shot, 
 too, and reckoned that the man had let fly at a rabbit. 
 He carried a gun." 
 
 " You don't speak too respectfully of the Lord 
 Proprietor, my friend." 
 
 " I speak as I think," answered Tregarthen, his brow 
 darkening. " He was no friend to me or mine." 
 
 " I advise you very strongly to keep that sort of talk
 
 294 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 to yourself, at any rate for the present. To begin 
 with, Sir Caesar is missing, and we have grave fear he 
 will not be found again alive : so that it is not seemly. 
 But, further, I must caution you that you parted from 
 him using threats, and your threats have been reported." 
 
 "Turn me out of Saaron, he would " began 
 
 Tregarthen, but checked himself at the moment when 
 passion seemed on the point of over-mastering him. 
 " Well, sir, I didn't shoot him, if that's what they are 
 telling," he added quietly. 
 
 "1 should be sorry, indeed, to suspect any such 
 thing. But let me tell you the rest. Hearing the shot, 
 Leggo made good speed back to Carn Coppa. His 
 master had disappeared ; but away to the left, near the 
 edge of the cliffs, he saw three children running down 
 the hill, and he declares that those children were yours." 
 
 Tregarthen put up a hand and rubbed the side of his 
 head. 
 
 " My children ? " he repeated. " I can't make this out 
 at all, sir. What could my children be doing anywhere 
 near Carn Coppa ? " 
 
 " You had best ask them." 
 
 " No," said Tregarthen, picking up his faggots. " I 
 never brought them up to be afraid of the truth. Come 
 with me to the house, sir, and they shall tell what they 
 know." 
 
 He led the way, and the Commandant followed him 
 indoors to the kitchen, where they found Ruth stooping 
 over the great hearth, already busy with the morning 
 fire. Across the planching overhead sounded the patter 
 of the children's bare feet. 
 
 In a couple of minutes they came running down 
 together, laughing on their way, and the Commandant 
 had to wonder again — as he had wondered before, on
 
 THE SEARCH 295 
 
 the afternoon when he had sailed them home from 
 Merriman's Head — at their beautiful manners. They 
 were neither shy, nor embarrassed. 
 
 Indeed, it was the Commandant who felt embarrass- 
 ment (and showed it) as he asked them to tell what had 
 taken them to Piper's Hole, and what they had seen there. 
 
 "We saw a mermaid," answered Annet. " She was 
 sitting on the rock outside the cove ; and first she was 
 singing to a kind of harp, and afterwards she sang as 
 she combed her hair. And then someone fired a gun 
 at her from the cliffs, and she vanished, and we were 
 frightened and ran away. We did not see who fired 
 the gun, nor if she was wounded. It was not brave of 
 us to run away so quickly, and we have been sorry ever 
 since." 
 
 " What nonsense is this ? " growled their father. 
 " Annet, my child, we tell the truth — all of us — here 
 on Saaron." 
 
 " It may have been a seal," hazarded the Commandant. 
 " I am told that Piper's Hole used to be a famous spot 
 for seals." 
 
 But Annet lifted her chin and answered, her eyes 
 steadily raised to her father's face. " No, it was not a 
 seal. It was a mermaid. She sang and combed her 
 hair just as I told you. It was beginning to grow dark, 
 but we could see her quite plainly." She turned for 
 confirmation to Linnet and Matthew Henry, and they 
 both nodded. 
 
 Their father growled again that this was nonsense; 
 but the Commandant, lifting a hand, asked what had 
 taken them to the cliffs above Piper's Hole. It could 
 not (he suggested) have been that they expected to 
 catch sight of a mermaid. 
 
 " Yes," answered Annet again ; " that was just the
 
 296 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 reason." She was speaking frankly, as a child can 
 speak ; but children have their own code of honour, and 
 it forbids them to give away a friend. " Jan was telling 
 us, only the other day," she explained with careful 
 lucidity, "how his father had once caught a mermaid 
 in a pool there. We wanted very much to see one, and 
 so we planned to go. But afterwards, when father 
 rowed us home, we did not like to tell him about it. 
 We were afraid he would laugh at us; and we were 
 frightened, too ; afraid that the mermaid had been hurt ; 
 and — and we were upset because father had brought 
 the boat for us instead of Jan." 
 
 " But most of all," put in Linnet, " I was upset because 
 I had been saying that there were no such things." 
 
 "You silly children, of course there are no such 
 things ! " said their mother. 
 
 But Matthew Henry, ignoring her, and more in pity 
 than in anger, turned on the Commandant. " Are you 
 come," he asked, " because she is hurt ? " 
 "She? Who?" 
 
 " The mermaid. We didn't mean to bring ill-luck to 
 her. Jan said there was no good luck ever in spying 
 on a mermaid, but Aunt Vazzy said that was non- 
 sense, and of course we believed Aunt Vazzy " 
 
 But here the child came to a full stop, startled by 
 a swift change in the Commandant's look, and by a 
 sudden, sharp exclamation. 
 
 "Your Aunt Vazzy?" The Commandant's hand 
 went up to his forehead. It seemed that, under the 
 shadow of it, his face grew pale and grey as he gazed 
 from Matthew Henry to the two girls, and from them 
 again to their mother. 
 
 " Ma'am," said he, in a shaking voice, " is your sister 
 in the house ? "
 
 THE SEARCH 297 
 
 With his question, it seemed that in turn he had 
 passed on his pallor to Ruth ; who, however, drew her- 
 self up and answered him with spirit. " Sir," said Ruth 
 Tregarthen, "you are asking too much. Must we be 
 accountable to you for my sister's doings ? " 
 
 " For God's sake," cried the Commandant, " let us 
 waste no time in misunderstandings ! Can you not see 
 that your children are telling only the truth ? — that she 
 — your sister — was the mermaid ? And if she did not 
 venture home last night " 
 
 " She took her own boat," quavered poor Ruth. " She 
 started yesterday afternoon soon after the children had 
 left for school — and she told me not to worry if she 
 came home late. My sister, sir, has queer ways of her 
 own. Maybe she heard the news on her way back, 
 and has been searching all night with the others." 
 
 The Commandant had fallen to pacing the room. 
 " She was not among the searchers," he said impatiently. 
 " And, moreover, she has not returned : her boat is not 
 at the landing-quay." 
 
 "A moment, sir!" interposed Tregarthen. "I see 
 what you fear, and it is terrible. But one thing is not 
 plain to me at all. Vashti took her own boat, we hear. 
 Now, suppose that the shot wounded her, or worse, still 
 we have the boat to account for : and the boat, you say, 
 is not to be found." 
 
 " Was ever a more hopeless mystery ! " cried the 
 Commandant, Hinging out his hands. 
 
 But Eli Tregarthen turned to his wife, who had 
 dropped into a chair by the fire and lay back, gripping 
 the arms of it. 
 
 " Courage, wife ! " said he, laying a strong palm over 
 one of her trembling hands. " And you, sir, take my 
 thanks ; go you home, and leave the search to me."
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 THE COUNCIL OF TWELVE 
 
 IT was noon, and in the Court House all the 
 Councillors rose as the Commandant entered 
 and took his seat. 
 
 In the fewest possible words he opened the business, 
 and leaned back in his chair of state, waiting for the 
 talk to begin. He scarcely knew what he had said, and 
 yet he had spoken well. With his restored authority 
 had come back the old easy habit of it. 
 
 At such a moment the Councillors would not have 
 allowed, even to themselves, that they breathed more 
 easily, and fell to business almost with a sigh of relief, 
 under the presidency of their old chairman. Yet so 
 it was. The Lord Proprietor had been autocratic in 
 council, impatient of opinions that crossed his own, apt 
 to treat discussion as a tedious preliminary to enforcing 
 his will. 
 
 After five years, then, the Councillors enjoyed, with- 
 out confessing, a sense of liberty regained ; and it was 
 the more to the Commandant's credit that in spite of 
 it he kept a firm rein on the debate, cutting short all 
 prolixities of speculation, and briefly ruling Mr. Pope's 
 theory of foul play to be, for the present, out of order. 
 They were met, he reminded them, for two practical 
 purposes : in the first place, to organise a thorough 
 
 search for the Lord Proprietor ; and secondly, to 
 
 29S
 
 THE COUNCIL OF TWELVE 299 
 
 determine, as briefly as possible, how the government 
 of the Islands should be continued and carried on during 
 his absence. 
 
 Mr. Rogers attended, and was cross-examined at 
 length. With a chart before him, and with the help 
 of Reuben Hicks, the St. Anne's pilot, he traced and 
 described the currents to the northward of Iniscaw, the 
 Chairman meanwhile, with pencil and paper, assigning 
 the search-parties to the various rocks and groups of 
 islets in or around which it was deemed possible for a 
 floating body to be carried — so many boats to North 
 Island, so many to seek along Brefar to W. and S.W. 
 of Merriman's Head, so many to explore the difficult 
 passage between the Outer Dogs. A sheet of foolscap 
 had been pinned on the outside of the Court House 
 door inviting volunteers ; and while the Councillors 
 deliberated they could hear the murmur of the crowd 
 surrounding the notice, and the scratching of pencils as 
 one man after another painfully wrote his name. At 
 intervals — time being precious — Constable Ward would 
 step out, unpin the paper, replace it with a clean one, 
 and bring it indoors to the Commandant, who was thus 
 enabled to form his crews with dispatch. 
 
 It was during one of these intervals (the Court House 
 door being open for a moment) that Councillor Tregaskis, 
 happening to glance out at the crowd from his raised 
 chair, and over the heads of the crowd at the line of 
 distant blue water sparkling in the afternoon sunshine, 
 jumped up from his seat with an exclamation — 
 
 " A yacht, by Gorm ! " 
 
 "Eh? What?" Fully half the Councillors turned 
 towards him, and craned their necks for a view through 
 the doorway. " A yacht ? " The Commandant laid 
 down his pen and stood up, raising himself a-tiptoe
 
 300 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 on his dais in the endeavour to gain a glimpse of the 
 horizon from the window high on his right. 
 
 " A steam yacht ! " 
 
 The Councillors stared one at another, wondering if 
 this new arrival could have any possible connection with 
 the Lord Proprietor's disappearance. 
 
 " What's her flag ? " demanded Mr. Rogers. 
 
 " She carries no ensign," reported Mr. Tregaskis ; 
 " but a reddish-coloured square flag — a house-flag, be- 
 like. And yet, seemin' to me, she don't look like a 
 private-owned craft." 
 
 "She's the Admiralty yacht from Plymouth," an- 
 nounced Mr. Rogers confidently. He had set a chair 
 close to the window and climbed upon it. " Yes, yes — 
 the old Circe ; I could tell her in a thousand. . . . She's 
 slowing down to anchor; and see, there's the gold 
 anchor on her flag ! Listen, now . . . there goes ! . . ." 
 Through the open doorway, across the clear water, their 
 ears caught the splash of a dropped anchor, and the 
 music of its chain running through the hawse-pipe. 
 
 The Commandant rapped the table. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said he, " oblige me by returning to 
 your places and resuming our business. We shall not 
 advance it just now by catching at hopes which may 
 be baseless, though I admit the temptation. That these 
 visitors bring us any news of the Lord Proprietor or 
 any that bears, even remotely, upon his disappearance 
 is — to say the least of it — highly improbable. On the 
 other hand, it is certain that by detaining Mr. Rogers 
 here we hinder him in the discharge of those courtesies 
 which, as Inspecting Commander, he will be eager to 
 pay to the new-comers. I suggest, then, that we briefly 
 conclude the inquiry, in which he has given us so much 
 help, and allow him to put ofl" to the yacht, while we
 
 THE COUNCIL OF TWELVE 301 
 
 restraining our curiosity, take further counsel for the 
 interim government of the Islands. If" — he turned to 
 Mr. Rogers — "if, sir, our visitors can throw any light 
 on the mystery, I may trust you to bring them to us 
 with all dispatch." 
 
 Accordingly Mr. Rogers, having briefly completed 
 his evidence, was allowed to depart, and the Councillors 
 fell again to the business of distributing the crews of 
 the search-boats. 
 
 From this they turned at length to discuss the question 
 of an interim government. Councillor Pope proposed 
 that supreme control of the executive reverted naturally 
 to the Commandant, subject only to such power of 
 criticism or restraint as the Council claimed over the 
 action of the Lord Proprietor himself The eleven 
 shouted " Aye " to this with one voice. 
 
 The Commandant, however, reminded them that he 
 had not yet put the resolution, and that it was doubtful 
 — he spoke as one who, some years ago, had made a 
 study of these constitutional niceties — if the Council of 
 Twelve had really any say in the matter. They could, 
 of course, elect their own President 
 
 But at this point a noise of women's voices on the 
 quay, followed by a knocking on the door of the 
 Council Chamber, put a period to the impatience of his 
 auditors. 
 
 The door was opened, and Mr. Rogers appeared on 
 the threshold with a tall officer, gaunt and white-haired, 
 in military undress — at first glance indisputably a person 
 of distinction — standing close behind his shoulder. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. President, if we interrupt the 
 Council," began Mr. Rogers ; " but I have brought a 
 visitor here, Sir Ommancy Ward, who has business with 
 you so soon as the sitting is over."
 
 302 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " — But who has no desire at all to interrupt it," 
 added Sir Ommaney courteously, stepping forward 
 and bowing to the Council. " Good -afternoon, gentle- 
 men ! Good-afternoon, sir ! " He stepped forward 
 to the dais, holding out his hand. "Hey? my old 
 friend Vigoureux — have you quite forgotten me, in all 
 these years ? " 
 
 " Ward ! " exclaimed the Commandant, his face 
 brightening with sudden recognition. A moment later, 
 even more suddenly, it grew grey and haggard, almost 
 (you might say) with terror. But the visitor did not 
 perceive this. 
 
 " My dear fellow, why not give me the name as it 
 rose to your lips ? ' Tubby ' Ward it used to be in the 
 trenches, eh? Gentlemen" — Sir Ommaney turned to 
 the Council — "your President and I have interrupted 
 each other's work before now — as gunner and sapper — 
 under Sevastopol. But I have no desire to interrupt 
 yours, knowing how serious it is. Mr. Rogers brought 
 off the news — this disquieting, not to say dumbfounding, 
 news — to the yacht just now ; and I hardly need to tell 
 you that it puts my own errand into the background. 
 Sir " — he turned to the Commandant again — " I allowed 
 Mr. Rogers to bring me here only on his surmise that 
 your business would be over. Perhaps you will give 
 me, having announced myself, your leave to withdraw." 
 
 " We shall have done in a very few minutes," answered 
 the Commandant. His lips were dry, and he marvelled 
 at the careless sound of his own voice. He had not a 
 doubt of the true meaning of Sir Ommaney's visit. 
 Nay, the very swiftness with which it followed upon his 
 letter of confession proved how serious a view the War 
 Office must take of his case. He pulled himself together 
 desperately. "If you will take a chair, sir, here on my
 
 THE COUNCIL OF TWELVE 303 
 
 right, I promise that twenty minutes will see us at an 
 end." 
 
 So the business of the Council was resumed, and the 
 Commandant, still wondering at his own coolness, took 
 up the thread of his discourse. 
 
 It was, on the whole, an admirable discourse. He 
 had the constitutional system of the Islands at his 
 fingers' ends, and to-day, with despair in his heart, he 
 expounded it lucidly. His words, too, had a real effect 
 upon his hearers; an emotional effect which Sir 
 Ommaney, sitting and listening, could not but note. 
 
 At the conclusion, Mr. Pope arose again, and proposed, 
 and Mr. Fossell again seconded, that the supreme 
 government of the Islands reverted naturally, for the 
 time being, to the Commandant: so that, for practical 
 purposes, it may be contended he had spoken super- 
 fluously. But, to one who looked beneath the surface, 
 this did not matter. 
 
 The Court rose, with its ancient formalities. " Regince 
 et insults ejus sit Deus propitius," said the President, 
 closing the Bible, which at all meetings of the Council 
 lay open on the table before him. "//« et laboribus 
 nostris, Amen" duly responded the eleven Councillors, 
 standing in their places while he walked with his guest 
 to the door. On the threshold he faced about, and 
 made them a bow, which they as ceremoniously returned. 
 
 Out of doors the afternoon sun shone with a bright- 
 ness almost dazzling after the shade of the Court House ; 
 but the tonic north-west wind, blowing across the Roads 
 from Cromwell's Sound, held an autumnal chill, and the 
 Commandant shivered as he halted a moment to con 
 the Circe in the offing. 
 
 " I travel in state," said Sir Ommaney, with a laugh, 
 as he followed this glance ; " and with the cabins of
 
 304 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 half a dozen Sea Lords to choose between. In point 
 of fact, our department has no boat at Plymouth capable 
 of performing the passage comfortably : so, my business 
 being partly theirs, I applied to the Admiralty, and the 
 Admiralty placed their yacht at my disposal." 
 
 The Commandant did not understand ; or perhaps 
 he had not been listening intently. By tacit consent, 
 the pair bent their steps towards the slope of Garrison 
 Hill. 
 
 " Also," Sir Ommaney resumed, " the Admiral at 
 Plymouth added a word of advice, to take advantage 
 of this spell of weather and make the passage at once. 
 No doubt he had a professional distrust of a soldier's 
 stomach. Still, he meant it kindly. And that accounts 
 for my arriving some days ahead of scheduled time, and 
 dropping into the midst of this disquieting business. 
 What's the meaning of it, think you ? " 
 
 " The meaning of it ? " echoed the Commandant. 
 
 "You don't doubt the man fell over the cliffs and 
 killed himself? " 
 
 The Commandant shook his head. " I don't doubt 
 his having met with an accident," he answered. " But I 
 have some hope of finding him yet, and of finding him 
 alive." 
 
 " To me, that doesn't seem likely. But I want to tell 
 you at once that my business can wait. I repeat, I am 
 ahead of time. I can employ myself on board, or get 
 out the steam-launch and explore the Islands ; or, again 
 (if you will use me), I will gladly make one of a search 
 party." 
 
 The Commandant thanked him. " But I have no 
 particular business, at any rate for an hour or two. The 
 boats have gone, and I leave it to Mr. Rogers to direct 
 the search, now that we have laid down the plan of it
 
 THE COUNCIL OF TWELVE 305 
 
 On these occasions, one captain is always better than 
 two." Sir Ommaney might talk easily of postponing 
 this or that; but the Commandant, poor man, craved 
 to get the worst over and learn his fate. 
 
 " By the bye, Vigoureux — if you'll not mind my 
 saying so — you handled that Council of yours admir- 
 ably." 
 
 The Commandant flushed. " They are old friends of 
 mine, Sir Ommaney." 
 
 " Why, and so am I an old friend ; at least, as I 
 supposed. Cannot you manage to drop the prefix ? 
 . . . Very well. . . . And now, if you have nothing 
 better to do, take me over the old fortifications." 
 
 They climbed the hill together to the Garrison gate, 
 and thence, bearing away to the left, started to make 
 the round of the batteries. The Commandment flinched 
 as they came to the first — the King George's Battery — 
 and stood by the deserted platform. The bitter humilia- 
 tion to be here, master of a fortress without one single 
 gun ! Almost he dreaded to hear his guest break forth 
 with a contemptuous laugh. 
 
 Sir Ommaney, however, surveyed the ruin in silence, 
 and when he spoke it was only to ask a question con- 
 cerning the trajectory of the guns which had once 
 furnished it. The Commandant walked by his side, 
 a man torn by many emotions. For the first time in 
 fifteen years he, an enthusiast in gunnery, had an 
 opportunity to talk with one who really cared for 
 gunnery and understood it. On the other hand, and 
 eagerly as he jumped at every question, he could not 
 help perceiving that these batteries — of which he had 
 been so proud — of which in recollection he was yet so 
 proud — were to Sir Ommaney but obsolete toys. This 
 visitor of his, this friend of his gallant youth, had moved 
 20
 
 306 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 with the times, and the times had carried him to an 
 infinite distance, beyond all understanding. Thus, as he 
 moved on from battery to battery, at times our Com- 
 mandant talked earnestly, wistfully, and at times fell to 
 a despondent silence ; and still between his eagerness 
 and his despondency the personal question awoke — " He 
 is kind, but he is here to pass judgment on me. What 
 can the sentence be but disgrace ? " 
 
 Arrived at the Keg of Butter Battery, Sir Ommaney 
 seated himself on the low wall, hard by the spot where 
 Vashti had dug at the stones with her sunshade. 
 
 " My dear Vigoureux," said Sir Ommaney, after a long 
 look seaward, " I haven't a doubt you regret your guns, 
 obsolete though you know that they were. For that 
 matter, your batteries — their build and their very 
 positions — are quite as hopelessly out of date." 
 
 " Man," exclaimed the Commandant, with a sudden 
 rush of blood to the face, " do you suppose I cannot 
 guess why you are here? Oh, for God's sake let me 
 hear the worst 1 If for five years I have been an enforced 
 idler here, do me at least the justice to believe that I 
 know the range of modern artillery and something of 
 what a modern battleship can do. Fifteen years ago, 
 when I came to take over the command of the Islands, 
 the old Black Prince was the last word in ships and 
 gunnery. Think of it ! Yet, the basis of defence, the 
 simple principle, lies here, and has always lain here. If 
 you had come to discuss this " 
 
 Sir Ommaney lifted a hand. " But that is partly — 
 even chiefly — what I am come to consider." 
 
 " Ah ! " 
 
 *' And I have seen a letter about you, addressed to the 
 War Office by the Lord Proprietor: an unfriendly letter, 
 I may say."
 
 THE COUNCIL OF TWELVE 307 
 
 The Commandant's cheeks were already warm with 
 excitement, but at this their colour deepened. 
 
 " I beg you to believe," said he heartily, " that if 
 Sir Caesar has written about me, my letter was sent 
 without knowledge of it, and in no desire to an- 
 ticipate " 
 
 " My dear fellow," Sir Ommaney interrupted, " I have 
 some little sense left in my head, I hope. But will you 
 put constraint upon yourself for a moment to forget 
 these letters, to dismiss the personal question, and simply 
 to resume our talk." 
 
 " 1 will try," agreed the Commandant, after a painful 
 pause. " But it will be hard ; harder perhaps than you 
 can understand. Honours have come to you — de- 
 servedly, I admit " 
 
 " And too late," Sir Ommaney again took him up. 
 " My dear Vigoureux, when we knew one another in the 
 old days, honours seemed to both of us the most 
 desirable thing in the world. Believe me, they always 
 come too late." 
 
 The Commandant looked at him for a moment. 
 " Yes," said he at length, " we have talked enough of 
 ourselves. And what do we matter, after all ? " 
 
 They walked back to the barracks together, side by 
 side, discussing, as one soldier with another, the problem 
 which the one had opened, and on which the other had 
 brooded in silence for years. 
 
 Arrived at his quarters, the Commandant applied the 
 poker to his fire, motioned Sir Ommaney to the worn 
 arm-chair, excused himself, and hurried off to seek 
 Archelaus and discuss the chances of a cup of tea. 
 
 Sir Ommaney, left to himself, took a glance round 
 the poverty-stricken room, and stretched out his long 
 legs to the blaze. The evening air without had been
 
 3o8 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 chilly. The sea-coal in the grate, stirred by the 
 Commandant's poker, woke to a warm glow with a 
 small dancing flame on top. Sir Ommaney stared into 
 the glow, lost in thought. ... A tapping on the pane 
 awoke him out of his brown study. He sat upright, but 
 almost with the same motion he sprang to his feet as a 
 hand pushed open the window behind him. 
 
 There was no light in the room save that afforded by 
 the dancing, uncertain flame. It wavered, as he turned 
 about, upon the figure of a woman entering confidently 
 across the sill, and upon a face at sight of which he drew 
 back almost in terror. 
 
 " Pass, friend, and all's well 1 " said Vashti, with a light 
 laugh, as she effected her entrance. Then, catching 
 sight of the man confronting her, she caught at the 
 curtain, and said simply, " 0-oh !" 
 
 " Lord, bless my soul ! " exclaimed Sir Ommaney 
 in a low voice, but fervently. 
 
 " I — I thought you were the Commandant," stammered 
 Vashti, for once in this history taken thoroughly aback. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Cara ! . . . You ? And here, of all 
 places in the world ! " 
 
 But upon this they both turned, as the door opened 
 and the Commandant stood on the threshold. 
 
 " Miss Vashti ! " The Commandant stared from one 
 to the other. 
 
 Vashti broke the silence with her ready laugh. 
 
 " Sir Ommaney Ward and I have met before. He 
 does not know that this is my native home ; but " — she 
 dropped them both a curtsey — "the point is that you 
 are both to come with me, and at once."
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 THE FINDING 
 
 THE two men followed her out into the darkness 
 and across the turfed slope towards the Keg 
 of Butter. The Commandant, amid much that was 
 bewildering, guessed that her boat lay moored there, 
 and that she meant them to accompany her, either to 
 Saaron or to Iniscaw. There was no danger of meeting 
 anyone by the way, either on the hill or down by the 
 shore ; for the search had drawn off all the coastguard. 
 Nevertheless, though he carried a lantern, he did not 
 light it. 
 
 The moon would not be up for an hour yet, but the 
 nor'-westerly breeze had blown the sky clear of clouds. 
 The stars — bright as always when the wind sets over 
 the Islands from that quarter — lent a pale radiance by 
 which Sir Ommaney managed to steer his way, and 
 at a fair pace, beside his more expert companions, and 
 the Commandant, when they reached the cliff-path, 
 lent him a hand. 
 
 "But you don't tell me you have corne over from 
 Saaron in that cockle-shell of yours ? " asked the Com- 
 mandment, peering down into the darkness. 
 
 Vashti, who was leading the way down the track, 
 turned with a laugh. " No, and for a very good reason. 
 I could not take you two back in her, for she would 
 
 not carry you, and I could not borrow yours and leave 
 
 30c,
 
 310 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 her here for the coastguard to discover ; and again the 
 wind, though it has fallen, is against us — we shall have 
 to pull, and there would be no sense in towing a boat, 
 even a little one, for we are in a hurry. So I sailed 
 across in Eli's. But please do not deride my poor 
 cockle-shell, as you call it ; for without her I had never 
 such news as I bring you." 
 
 " When are we to hear it ? " 
 
 She laughed again as she stooped and found the 
 shore-line of Tregarthen's boat. " Not yet. No, and 
 you need not light the lantern. We shall want it just 
 before our journey's end ; not until then." 
 
 The Commandant helped her to draw in the boat, 
 and they clambered on board. 
 
 " But surely you don't expect me to steer ! " protested 
 Sir Ommaney, gazing blankly around at the darkness, 
 as Vashti directed him to take his seat in the stern- 
 sheets. 
 
 " No, I have unshipped the rudder, and you will have 
 nothing to do but sit still and wonder." She snugged 
 away the sail. " Now, will you take bow oar or 
 stroke?" she asked the Commandant. "Better perhaps 
 leave me the bow oar and the steering." 
 
 " Might one ask whither ? " 
 
 " For Iniscaw, and for the landing beneath the Priory, 
 It will give us the farther to walk, but towards the 
 north of the Island we shall find ourselves in a press 
 of boats. To be sure, no one is likely to suspect us ; 
 it will be supposed that we are joining the search. 
 Still, I would rather run no risks, and the southern 
 landing is almost certainly deserted." 
 
 She shipped her oar, and as the Commandant set 
 the stroke she took it up with a will. At the fifth or 
 sixth stroke she began to sing — not a set song, but
 
 THE FINDING 311 
 
 little trills and snatches of melody, as though health, 
 happiness, the joy of living, the delight of swinging to 
 the oar in the cool night air — these together or some- 
 thing compounded of them all — filled her being and 
 bubbled over. 
 
 "You are silent, you two." She said it almost re- 
 proachfully, pausing to throw a glance over her shoulder 
 and direct the steering. 
 
 " And with excuse," Sir Ommaney answered. " Who 
 is not mute when Mademoiselle Cara sings ? And who, 
 an hour ago, could have promised me that I should 
 hear her sing, in this place, beneath the stars ? " 
 
 " Few will hear her any more," said Vashti lightly. 
 " She is tired of the stage and thinks of marrying." 
 
 " Indeed, mademoiselle? And whom are we to con- 
 gratulate? Who is it that selfishly appropriates what 
 was meant for mankind ? " 
 
 "Faith, sir, I cannot tell you," she answered again, 
 still in the same light tone. " But I came, just now, to 
 kidnap the Commandant." 
 
 Without giving a chance of reply, she broke into 
 singing again; the air, Ah fors e hdl It gushed from 
 her lips like a very fountain of happiness, irrepressible, 
 springing towards the stars in jets and spurts of melody, 
 falling with a ripple in which the music of the stars 
 themselves seemed to echo ; almost in the moment of 
 its fall rising again, as though it panted with joy — not 
 with weariness, for the spirit of it called impetuously 
 to life. The two men listened, marvelling: nor when 
 the song ended was the spell broken ; for still, as she 
 pulled towards the looming shadow of Iniscaw, sinking 
 her voice almost to a murmur, she took up the melody 
 as though in echo, caressing, repeating it, loath to let 
 it go.
 
 312 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 They came to the dark landing-quay. Sir Ommaney, 
 stepping ashore, stretched out a hand ; but she dis- 
 regarded it, as she disregarded the Commandant's, held 
 out to take the painter and make fast. 
 
 " Thank you." She stooped, apparently groping 
 among the bottom-boards. " I will moor the boat 
 myself. But wait ! I have something for each of you 
 to carry." 
 
 In the darkness she passed up a double tackle and 
 a coil of rope. " I fetched these from Saaron on my 
 way to you," she explained. " We shall need them. 
 Have you fairly strong heads for a climb ? Very well, 
 then " — she sprang ashore with the painter in her hand, 
 made it fast to a ring above the quay steps, and picked 
 up the lantern. " Now forward ! And no talking, 
 please, until we are well past the house and out of 
 hearing ! " 
 
 Sir Ommaney picked up the tackle, the Commandant 
 the coil of rope, and the pair followed her one behind 
 the other. In Indian file they stole up through the 
 plantations, almost to the foot of the glimmering terrace ; 
 thence, bearing to the left, along dim paths through 
 the mazes of the gardens, thence again through the 
 north-west plantation, and out upon the path which the 
 Lord Proprietor had taken on his way to North Iniscaw. 
 Here on the uplands the breeze met them, and at his 
 feet Sir Ommaney for the first time saw spread the 
 wonderful circle of the great sea-lights. Smaller lights 
 twinkled like a thread of gems along the north and 
 north-eastern horizon : they belonged to the boats still 
 prosecuting the search. 
 
 Vashti had led the way from the start without 
 faltering or appearing to hesitate for a moment. Even 
 when clear of the woods her companions observed the
 
 THE FINDING 313 
 
 prohibition she had laid upon them, and exchanged 
 scarcely a word. 
 
 " You have followed well," said Vashti, as they reached 
 the foot of Pare Coppa. She pointed to the mass of 
 shadow ahead, and the granite blocks on the summit 
 faintly touched by the starlight. *' I know now what 
 it feels like to command soldiers, and it feels good. 
 There, by that high rock to the left, our march ends." 
 
 They breasted the slope and arrived at the rock, 
 panting, after seven or eight minutes' climb. It was 
 the same on which Sam Leggo had last seen the Lord 
 Proprietor sitting, with his gun across his knees. But 
 why she had brought them to this spot the two men 
 were as far as ever from guessing ; for almost straight 
 beneath them lay the sea. 
 
 After a minute's rest, Vashti lowered herself over the 
 western edge of the rock, at the same time warning 
 them to follow with extreme caution ; and so all three 
 came to the ledge of the adit. But their business did 
 not lie here. Indeed, in the darkness neither Sir 
 Ommaney nor the Commandant observed the opening, 
 and Vashti had no leisure to call their attention to it. 
 Clambering, still to the left, across a boulder which 
 fairly overhung the sea, she struck a match, lit the 
 candle in her lantern, and held it up before a dark 
 hole — a second adit — pierced in the cliff-side and running 
 west, as the other ran south-by-east. 
 
 " Be careful, now ! " she warned them again, and 
 ducked her head as she entered the tunnel, which was 
 scarcely more than five feet high. They stooped and 
 followed down the slope of it for about thirty yards, 
 and halted behind her as she waved the lantern over 
 what appeared at first to be a terrific chasm, opening 
 at her feet.
 
 314 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 " Eli, ahoy ! Ahoy, there ! " she called. 
 
 " Ahoy ! " the voice came up from the depths. " Ahoy 
 there, Vashti ! " 
 
 " I have brought the Commandant, with a friend — 
 and the tackle. Shall I fix it here ? " 
 
 " That's no work for you, my dear," called up Eli. 
 " Let them come down if they've heads for it, and 
 afterwards I can climb up and fix it. Or, stay ! Let 
 the one come down, and the other bide aloft, to help 
 me. 
 
 " Do you dare ? " Vashti asked the Commandant, 
 pointing down to the pit, and then with a wave of her 
 lantern indicating the stairway by which he must 
 descend. It was a ladder of rope, suspended from 
 an iron bar driven into the solid rock about a foot 
 above the floor-level, on which they stood. It dangled 
 down into darkness, and the Commandant perceived, 
 to his horror, that its iron rungs lay close against the 
 cliff. 
 
 " Surely you are never going down that way ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 But Vashti was already stooping to slip off her shoes. 
 
 " You need not follow unless you choose." 
 
 " Where you go, I go. Let me lead the way." 
 
 But while he unlaced and kicked off his boots she 
 had already grasped the iron bar and swung herself out 
 over the abyss, feeling with her toes for a rung and 
 good foothold. 
 
 " For my part," said Sir Ommaney, controlling with 
 some difficulty the tremor of his voice as he saw her 
 anchored safely for the moment, " 1 am content to 
 smoke a pipe here and wait. For God's sake be careful, 
 you two ! " he added, as the Commandant also gripped 
 the bar, then a rung, and began to lower himself
 
 THE FINDING 315 
 
 Far below the Commandant could see a light 
 glimmering, drawing faint twinkles from the wet rock 
 around him. Just beneath him he could hear Vashti's 
 hands rhythmically catching at the rungs — down, 
 down. . . . Once his feet slipped from the staves, and 
 he hung for a moment by his hand-grip only. Twice 
 Vashti spoke up to him, warning him to press a knee 
 against the rock, and so make room for his toes to 
 catch the rungs. At length they reached a point where 
 the ladder hung clear of the cliff; but here a hand from 
 below caught it and held it steady. 
 
 " Nervous work, sir ! " said Eli Tregarthen, as the 
 Commandant, with a gasp of relief, felt his feet touch 
 solid rock. 
 
 "But where are we?" demanded the Commandant; 
 for close at hand sounded the boom of heavy waves. 
 
 " In Piper's Hole." 
 
 The Commandant stared aloft. Slowly the explana- 
 tion dawned on him. The adit, piercing its way from 
 the cliff top, broke through the wall of the cave, high 
 up, close to the roof. He turned, and his eyes followed 
 Vashti, who had caught up Eli's lantern and was 
 picking her way across the rocky floor. Presently she 
 bent to a kneeling posture, as the rays fell on what at 
 first appeared to be a long bundle. He hurried after 
 her, but stopped short with a cry. 
 
 " Sir Caisar ! " 
 
 "Even so, my friend. Alive, thanks to our friends 
 here ; and but for a shaking and a twisted ankle, sound 
 as well as safe. Yes, and the ankle is mending, thanks 
 to Miss Cara's skill and a plenty of salt-water 
 bandages." 
 
 The Lord Proprietor's face was pale as he leaned on 
 his elbow and stared at the Commandant across the
 
 3i6 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 lantern. It was scratched, too, and scarred ; but it was 
 the face of a sound man. 
 
 " But how in the world ! " 
 
 " Easily enough. I was leaning over the cliff, above 
 here, with my gun beside me, when a piece of earth 
 gave way under my head. 1 went down the slope head 
 foremost, as I guess, and my coat must have caught in 
 the gun's trigger-guard. At any rate, it went off, and 
 by the mercy of Heaven without wounding me, but 
 either the noise of it stunned me or the fall must have 
 knocked me foolish, for tumbling among the bushes 
 that grow in the hollow above the cave's entrance, I had 
 not the sense to catch hold, but slid through them, and 
 clean over the edge into the sea." 
 
 " Eh ? But pardon me, how can you possibly re- 
 member this ? " stammered the Commandant. 
 
 " I saw it," said Vashti quietly. 
 
 " Oh ! " The Commandant stared at her, and began 
 to understand. " So you were the mermaid ! " 
 
 She nodded. " I happened to be on the rock, outside 
 the entrance, with my small boat lying in a lew spot 
 under its eastern shelter, and so I put off to him at 
 once. There was a strong run of water into the cave ; 
 the depth was not above three feet when the waves ran 
 back. So I clutched hold of him — though making sure 
 he was dead — and drew him into the cave, above high- 
 water mark. It was hard work, though not so hard as 
 dragging the boat after us." 
 
 " Why should you want to drag the boat so far ? 
 You don't mean to tell me that you have been hiding 
 here, on purpose, while the search has been going on 
 all around you ! " 
 
 Vashti laughed. " Why, of course we have ! I 
 heard you and Mr. Rogers last night. You were
 
 THE FINDING 317 
 
 standing together on the very spot over which I had 
 hauled the boat: only I had taken the precaution to 
 smooth the sand over the track of her keel. From the 
 ridge of rock there I launched her on the freshwater 
 pool, and paddled her across with the Lord Proprietor 
 safe on board. I was dreadfully afraid, while I listened 
 to your voices, that you would cross the pool and dis- 
 cover her." 
 
 " It lies close ? " 
 
 " About thirty yards from where we stand." 
 
 "To confess the truth," put in the Lord Proprietor, 
 " my fall seems to have knocked some daylight into me, 
 or else Miss Vashti is a witch. While she bound up my 
 hurts we had some conversation together " 
 
 " It was I who did the talking," interposed Vashti. 
 
 " And that, perhaps, explains why in so short a while 
 I learnt so much. I learnt enough, sir, at any rate, of 
 you and of Eli Tregarthen to make me suspect that I 
 had done you both some injustice. I was willing to 
 hear more ; to prolong the adventure which " — he bowed 
 after a fashion towards Vashti, and not ungallantly — 
 " had its — er — romantic side. If Miss Cara spoke with 
 knowledge, it would do me good to see myself for a 
 brief while as others in the Islands see me, even to 
 hear what they said of me by way of obituary 
 criticism." 
 
 He paused at a sound on the far side of the cave. 
 It came from the ladder ; the sound of Eli's hobnailed 
 boots, rung upon rung, as he climbed aloft towards the 
 adit, to fasten the tackle there. 
 
 " It seems a monstrous height to be swung in air, 
 helpless as a babe. But Tregarthen says it can be 
 done, and I am willing to trust him. If at the top you 
 can rig up some kind of litter for me, and convey me
 
 3i8 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 home without noise. ... I have a fancy, and it is also 
 Miss Cara's, that we keep the main part of this mystery 
 to ourselves. But who is the helper aloft there?" 
 
 " Sir Ommaney Ward." 
 
 " Hey ? " 
 
 " Sir Ommaney Ward." 
 
 " The devil ! And I sent for him ! Forgive me, 
 Commandant! " 
 
 " And excuse me, Sir Caesar, but I prefer to believe he 
 is here because my letter brought him." 
 
 The Lord Proprietor held out his hand. 
 
 "Will you take it, Commandant? Miss Cara has 
 told me of that letter. You are a good man, and I 
 have wronged you."
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 THREE years and a few months have passed. The 
 date is Easter Monday (Easter falls early this 
 year), and from the Keg of Butter Battery the Com- 
 mandant, as he stands looking seaward, hears the 
 school-bell ringing in the town at the foot of Garrison 
 Hill, though the school has been closed a week since for 
 the Easter holidays. 
 
 He hears it, but for a while pays no attention to it, 
 though it keeps ding-dinging insistently. His eyes 
 are bent on the sea ; yet not in the direction of Saaron, 
 where, if they sought carefully, they might detect a 
 trace of smoke coiling up from the fold of the hills 
 which hides Eli Tregarthen's farm ; but westward, 
 towards the main, whence the steamer will arrive before 
 nightfall. She is not due for hours, yet the Com- 
 mandant's gaze searches the horizon. 
 
 The Keg of Butter Battery mounts no guns as yet. 
 It is no longer the Keg of Butter above which Vashti 
 sat on the crumbling wall and poked at the wild thyme 
 with her sunshade. The Government contractor has 
 transformed it : the wall has disappeared, and a smooth 
 glacis slopes from the Commandant's feet over hidden 
 chambers, constructed to house those quick-firing guns. 
 The chambers are ready : the guns will arrive within a 
 week. It is not for them, however, that the Commandant 
 scans the horizon so intently. 
 
 Although it is holiday time, the bells in the town 
 
 319
 
 320 MAJOR VIGOUREUX 
 
 below are ringing to the schoolhouse ; but the school- 
 house is filled with flowers. Two years ago the Lord 
 Proprietor called his Islanders together, and explained 
 how he hoped to bring back prosperity to the Islands 
 by means of daffodil culture. For an experiment, he 
 offered to present a thousand Dutch bulbs to every 
 cottager who would give them soil and cultivation, and 
 to-day the Islanders celebrate their first daffodil show. 
 
 In years to come, as the trade increases, the market 
 will keep them too busy to waste time on exhibitions. 
 We see them, and we part with them, on the eve of 
 prosperity. So much, at any rate, has grown of the 
 few bulbs carried by Archelaus for a peace-offering. 
 
 The Commandant takes out his watch, discovers that 
 it is close upon time for the opening ceremony, and 
 descends the hill in a hurry. At the schoolhouse door 
 he meets the Lord Proprietor, and they shake hands as 
 they enter the building together. But after going the 
 round of the stalls, the Lord Proprietor looks up. 
 " She is coming this afternoon, is she not? " 
 " She is coming," says the Commandant, and looks 
 forth from the open window over the sea. 
 
 Printed by Mokkison & Gibb Limited, Edinburgh
 
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 women are well delineated and contrasted. Cynthia and Elizabeth,
 
 2 METHUEN'S POPULAR NOVELS 
 
 each in her own way, are so human ?\\d sympathetic that the reader 
 can hardly fail to endorse the quotation on the title-page, ' I do not 
 blame such women, but for love they pick much oakum.' The men 
 are drawn with no less strength and sincerity ; while Lady Juliet — the 
 brilliant, heartless, little mondaine who precipitates the tragedy of 
 tliree lives — is a thumb-nail sketch of a fascinating, if worthless, type. 
 
 HAUNTING SHADOWS ; or, The House 
 of Terror 
 
 By M. F. Hutchinson. Crown 8vo, 6s. [Augusf 
 
 An English girl, brought up under harsh surroundings, considers 
 that opportunity suddenly opens the doors of Life. But these doors 
 swing back to the accompaniment of sinister and terrible things. 
 The very threshold of the new life is a place of terror. A harsh and 
 inexorable fate forces her reluctant feet along a difficult way, where it 
 seems as if none of the joys of existence can lighten the darkness. 
 The story shows with what results to herself and others Elaine 
 Westcourt became an inmate of the ' House of Terror.' 
 
 A WILDERNESS WOOING 
 
 By W. Victor Cook, Author of ' Anton of the Alps.' 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. [Angus I 
 
 A thrilling story of the early French-Canadian pioneers, and the 
 romantic adventures of a young heir to an English earldom. The 
 novel, which is full of excitement and dramatic incident, presents a 
 series of vivid pictures of the days when the great pathfinder La Salle 
 was carrying the lilies of France at utmost hazard into the Western 
 wilds. The love interest is strong, and attractively handled, and even 
 such strange-seeming affairs as the ' Ship of Women ' and the marriage 
 market at Quebec have their historical sanction. 
 
 NANCE OF MANCHESTER 
 
 By Orme Agnus, Author of 'Sarah Fuldon's Lovers.' 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. [August 
 
 Dr. Anthony Belton called Nance ' the bravest girl in Manchester,' 
 and he was a good judge. She assumed maternal cares at an early 
 age, and she lived for her children. Later she took up her residence 
 in the South of England with Mrs. Nolliver, and there struck up a 
 friendship with Miss Denise Martayne, a lady whose gifts had put her 
 in an exalted if not a happy position. It was a friendship that dis- 
 pelled gloom and created happiness. ' Nance of Manchester ' is a 
 tribute to the omnipotence of love. 
 
 A KINGDOM DIVIDED 
 
 By David Lisle, Author of ' A Painter of Souls.' 
 Crown Svo, 6s. [At/gust 
 
 This new novel by the author of A Painter of Souls may be de- 
 scribed as actively controversial. It deals largely with poiijnant 
 chapters in the life of a young clergyman, and in its pages we find an 
 amazing array of startling facts connected with the march of Ritualism
 
 METHUEN'S POPULAR NOVELS 3 
 
 and the future of England. Side by side with the history of a tragic 
 struggle we find glowing descriptions of scenery and of brilliant social 
 life. The scene is laid in Devon, and, later on, at Biarritz, 
 
 A WOMAN IN THE LIMELIGHT 
 
 By Charles Gleig, Author of ' The Nancy Manoeuvres.' 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. [August 
 
 A Woman in the Limelight presents candidly a typical actress of 
 the Musical Comedy Stage, treating of her career and her love affairs 
 with a realism that is convincing, but free of offence. The heroine 
 allures and for a long time retains the devotion and affection of a 
 typical solitary Londoner, who is not less devoted to the bon motif \ 
 but the inevitable break occurs. There is plenty of humour and of 
 first-hand knowledge in this study of upper Bohemian life of to-day, 
 and the characters are vividly drawn. 
 
 BURIED ALIVE 
 
 By Arnold Bennett, Author of ' Clayhanger.' A New 
 
 Edition. Crown 8vo, 6s. [August 
 
 This is a reprint of one of Mr. Bennett's most delightful stories. It 
 has been out of print for some time. 
 
 THE STREET GALLED STRAIGHT 
 
 By the Author of ' The Wild Olive.' Crown 8vo, 6s. 
 
 [August 
 
 The anonymous author of those very interesting novels 77!e Inner 
 Shrine and The Wild Olive has in the new book dealt with a financial 
 man's case of conscience. The story, which is laid for the most part 
 in Boston, illustrates the New England proverb, * By the street called 
 straight' — should it not be strait? — 'we come to the house called 
 beautiful.' 
 
 IT HAPPENED IN SMYRNA 
 
 By Thomas Edgelow. Crown Svo, 6s. [August 
 
 A vivid record of Eastern travel and adventure by a new author, 
 who is introduced to the novel-reading public by no less a sponsor 
 than Baroness von Hutten — the authoress of Pam whose cheery 
 preface in the form of an open letter will be found in Mr. Edgelow's 
 first book. The story opens on a German liner off the East African 
 coast, and leads us via Port Said to Smyrna. There and in the 
 interior of Turkey-in-Asiaare laid the scenes of Tony I'aynter's adven- 
 tures. It is in the Smyrna bazaars that he and Sylvia Sayers first 
 encounter the Turk who is destined to play so important a role in 
 their two lives, and it is from Smyrna tliat, at last, they sail away 
 when all has happily ended. 
 
 DEVOTED SPARKES 
 
 By W. Pett Ridge, Author of ' Thanks to Sanderson.' 
 
 Crown Svo, 6s. [August 
 
 Mr. Pett Ridge's new novel, an animated story of London life, 
 
 concerns a girl sent out to service by her stepmother. Taking the
 
 4 METHUEN'S POPULAR NOVELS 
 
 management of her career into her own hands, and holding the 
 reins, goes first to a house on the north side of Regent's Park, 
 afterwards to the neighbourhood of Berkeley Square ; and her adven- 
 tures in both situations, her acquaintances, and the person to whom 
 she is devoted, are described in Mr. Pett Ridge's brightest manner. 
 
 THE ANGLO-INDIANS 
 
 By Alice Perrin, Author of ' The Charm.' Crown 
 8vo, 6s. [August 
 
 The background of this novel is the contrast between official life in 
 India and a pensioned existence in England. The theme of the story 
 is the affection, almost amounting to a passion, that the heroine feels 
 towards India, where she has spent part of her childhood and her early 
 girlhood ; it leads to a love adventure involving the chief problem 
 between the East and West. 
 
 THE HEATHER MOON 
 
 By C. N. and A. M. Williamson, Authors of 'The 
 
 Lightning Conductor.' Crown 8vo, 6s. [August 
 
 The story of a motor tour in Scotland and many quests. The drama 
 shows us a girl in search of her mother, who has her own reasons for 
 not wishing to be found by a pretty grown-up daughter. A man in 
 search of some lost illusions is also here, and the girl helps him to 
 discover that they are not illusions but splendid truths. Other seekers 
 are a woman in search of love, and her brother in search of materials 
 for a novel. In finding or failing to find these things a romance of a 
 very original kind with many conflicting interests has been evolved. 
 
 THE QUEST OF THE GOLDEN ROSE 
 
 By John Oxenham, Author of ' The Long Road.' 
 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. [August 
 
 By ' The Golden Rose ' the author means the Spirit of Romance — 
 Love— and all that pertains thereto. The story tells how three very 
 typical Englishmen — surgeon — artist — barrister — encounter it in odd 
 fashion while tramping the High Alps, and follow it up each in his 
 own peculiar way to his destined end. Their various testings, mental, 
 moral, and physical, make the story, which is replete with the joy, 
 the sorrow, and the tragedy of life. 
 
 OLIVIA MARY 
 
 By E. Maria Albanesi, Author of * The Glad Heart' 
 Crown Svo, 6s. [August 
 
 In this, her first i>ew novel to be published since The Glad Heart, 
 Madame Alb:,nesi strikes new ground. Although full of able and 
 sympathetic characterization and that elusive charm which belongs to 
 all her books, this story is unlike any that she has yet written. The 
 author deals with a problem which is the outcome of emot'ons at once 
 simple, even ordinary, and yet at the same time profound and most 
 touching. 
 
 SALLY 
 
 By Dorothea Conyers, Author of ' Two Impostors 
 and Tinker.' Crown Svo, 6s. [August
 
 METHUEN'S POPULAR NOVELS 5 
 
 A hunting novel of Irish life. The scene is laid in the wilds of 
 Connemara, where a man suffering from melancholia starts hunting 
 over the mountains and the bogs. A seaside lodge close to him is 
 taken by some strangers, and the plot of the book then turns on the 
 lonely man, who has not spoken for years save when obliged to, being 
 charmed from his lonehness by Sally Stannard, and the subsequent 
 complications which ensue betwixt her and her various lovers. 
 
 LAMORNA 
 
 By Mrs. A. Sidgwick, Author of 'The Severins.' 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. [Augt^sl 
 
 The story of two girls united by kinship and affection, but divided 
 by character and temperament. Lamorna, the elder one, has to look 
 on while her cousin makes a tragedy of her life and successively 
 becomes the victim of a rou6 and a mischief-monger. Lamorna's own 
 fate is at one time so enmeshed with her cousin's that she requires all 
 her sense and strength to escape from the toils set by a man who 
 would override all scruple and all honour to win her. 
 
 THE HAPPY FAMILY 
 
 By Frank Swinnerton, Author of ' The Young Idea.' 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. [Ai/gtesf 
 
 The Happy Family is a realistic comedy of life in London suburbs. 
 The scenes are laid principally in Kentish Town, with excursions to 
 Hampstead, Highgate, and Gospel Oak ; while unusual pictures of 
 the publishing trade form a setting to the highly-important office-life 
 of the chief male characters. The interplay of diverse temperaments, 
 the conflict between the ideal and the actual, are the basis of the story, 
 which, however, is concerned with people rather than problems. 
 
 DARNELEY PLACE 
 
 By Richard Bagot, Author of * Donna Diana.' Crown 
 8vo, 6s. \^September 
 
 The scene of Mr. Richard Bagot's new novel is laid partly in 
 England and partly in Italy. The story turns upon the double life 
 led by a wealthy English landowner in consequence of the abduction 
 in his more youthful days of the daughter of an old Italian house at 
 a period when he had no prospect of succeeding to the position he 
 subsequently attained. Incidentally, the novel deals with certain 
 phases of Italian Spiritualism, and Mr. Bagot's readers will again 
 resume their acquaintance with some of the most sympathetic 
 characters described in his previous work Ths Passport. 
 
 A KNIGHT OF SPAIN 
 
 By Marjorie Bowen, Author of ' I Will Maintain.' 
 Crown Svo, 6s. {September 
 
 This story is laid in the stormy and sombre last half of the six- 
 teenth century, and deals with the fortunes of the Royal House of 
 Spain, the most powerful, cruel, and tragic dynasty of modern Europe. 
 The hero is Charles V's son, the gay, beautiful, and heroic Don Juan 
 of Austria, who rose to an unparalleled renown in Christendom as 
 the victor of Lepanto, intoxicated himself with visions of a crown and 
 the rank of ' Infant ' of Spain, and from the moment of his apogee
 
 6 METHUEN'S POPULAR NOVELS 
 
 was swiftly cast down by his brother, Philip II, sent to undertake 
 the impossible task of ruling the Low Countries, and left to die, 
 forsaken, of a mysterious illness, at the age of twenty-eight, in a camn 
 outside Namur. The story embraces the greater part of this Prince s 
 short life, which was one glowing romance of love and war, played 
 in the various splendours of Spain, Genoa, Venice, Naples, Sicily, 
 Africa, Paris, and Brussels. 
 
 REMITTANCE BILLY 
 
 By AsHTON HiLLiERS, Author of ' Memoirs of a 
 Person of Quality.' Crown 8vo, 6s. [September 
 
 In this book Mr. Ashton Hilliers, again finding his material in the 
 world we live in, tells of the quite excusable muddling of a straight, 
 but rather stupid young gentleman, whose ignorance of ' business ' is 
 too severely punished by ' business-like relations,' who regard him as 
 hopeless, until he, saved by his love of nature, and befriended by out- 
 siders who see stuff in the fellow, muddles through, to the surprise of 
 his family and himself. There is a nice girl in it, and a militant 
 sufiragette, but only two unfortunate marriages, and one of these 
 comes right at last. 
 
 HONOURS EASY 
 
 By Mrs. J. O. Arnold, Author of 'The Fiddler.' 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. [September 
 
 The interest of this stor}' centres in the will of a Professor Clifibrd, 
 in which a large sum of money is left to the scientist who shall within 
 a specified time finish the testator's life research. Failing its comple- 
 tion the money is to revert to his stepdaughter. Humphrey Wyatt 
 undertakes the task, incidentally falling in love with the stepdaughter, 
 of whose relationship to the Professor he is unaware. What happens 
 before and after he discovers her identity makes a charming romantic 
 ending to the book, 
 
 LONDON LAVENDER : An Entertainment 
 
 By E. V. Lucas, Author of ' Mr. Ingleside.' Crown 
 8vo, 6s. [September 
 
 This will make Mr. Lucas's fourth novel, or 'Entertainment' as he 
 prefers to call his stories ; and readers of the preceding three may 
 find some old acquaintances. The scene is again laid principally in 
 London, and again an odd company of types converse and have 
 urbane adventures. 
 
 THE HOLIDAY ROUND 
 
 By A. A. Milne, Author of 'The Day's Play.' Crown 
 
 Svo, 6s. [September 
 
 Among our younger humorists none has so quickly found his way 
 to the hearts of readers as 'A. A. M.' of Punch, whose special gift 
 and privilege it is to touch Wednesdays with irresponsibility and fun. 
 He has now brought together a further collection of his contributions 
 to Punch, similar in character to The Day's Play published two years 
 ago. The history of the Rabbits is continued, and is supplemented 
 by 'Little Plays for Amateurs,' 'Stories of Successful Lives,' and 
 many other of his recent dialogues and sketches.
 
 METHUEN'S POPULAR NOVELS 7 
 
 THE ROYAL ROAD : Being the Story of 
 the Life, Death, and Resurrection 
 of Edward Hankey of London 
 
 By Alfred Ollivant, Author of 'Owd Bob.' Crown 
 8vo, 6s. S^Septeniber 
 
 In the pages of this book the reader follows the courageous spirit of 
 a working man down the alley of life. We hear his laughter ; share 
 his joys ; and watch the heroic struggle of his soul against the circum- 
 stance that is oppressing him. The book, remorseless in its representa- 
 tion of things as they are, is strong in hope : for it finds its inspiration 
 in the Love that shall some day conquer the world. It is a story for 
 all who seek to succour our England in her distress. To read it is to 
 understand something of her troubles of this present time, and to have 
 a glimpse of the glory that shall be revealed in her. A stern book, it 
 is to those who read aright a joyful one. For it is a prophecy of dawn. 
 
 MARY PECHELL 
 
 By Mrs. Belloc Lowndes, Author of ' The Uttermost 
 Farthing,' etc. Crown 8vo, 6s. \September 
 
 In her new novel Mrs. Belloc Lowndes returns to the manner of 
 Barbara Kebell. It is an ample, spacious tale of English country- 
 house life, laid in a quiet Sussex village, dominated by the ruins of an 
 ancient castle, the scene of the last Lord Wolferstan's lawless but not 
 ignoble passion. The writer shows all her old power of presenting the 
 passion of love in each of its Protean phases. Mary Pechell herself is 
 a lovely, gracious figure, whose compelling charm the reader feels from 
 the first. In half-humorous, half-pathetic contrast is the middle-aged 
 romance of Miss Rose Charnwood, touched with the tenderest senti- 
 ment, and not belied by the happiness in store both for her and for 
 Mary Pechell herself. 
 
 THE SILVER DRESS 
 
 By Mrs. George Norman, Author of 'Lady Fanny.' 
 Crown 8vo, 6s. \_September 
 
 A novel describing the life of an attractive and still young woman 
 whose circumstances are those of so many others of her type in 
 England, for she has no acquaintances but women, is approaching 
 ' the youth of middle age ' without yet knowing love or any vital 
 interest. Then, quite unexpectedly, adventure, and, subsequently, 
 love coming to her, she lives for the first time. 
 
 THE SUBURBAN 
 
 By H. C. Bailey, Author of ' Storm and Treasure.* 
 Crown Svo, 6s. {^September 
 
 In this novel Mr. H. C. Bailey, who is best known by his spirited 
 historical romances, has deserted the past for the present. He tells a 
 story of modern London. The scenes are laid in poor middle-class 
 life, in the worlds of journalism and theoretical revolutionaries and 
 business. His hero is one of the most ordinary of men, fighting his 
 way up from the borders of poverty to respectable suburban comfort. 
 With him is contrasted a much more brilliant creature, an apostle of
 
 8 METHUEN'S POPULAR NOVELS 
 
 the newest creeds of revolt. Both have to do with the master of one 
 of the great modern organizations of finance and industry. In the 
 heroine Mr. Bailey has given us a study of one of the newest types of 
 young women of the middle class. 
 
 BETTY HARRIS 
 
 By Jennette Lee, Author of 'Uncle William' and 
 * Happy Island.' Crown 8vo, 3s. 6d. \Septe7nber 
 
 Betty Harris, the only child of an American millionaire, strays one 
 day into the shop of a Greek fruit-dealer, Achilles Alexandrakis, 
 and watches the flight of a butterfly that the Greek liberates from its 
 grey cocoon. The story is of the friendship that grew out of this 
 meeting, and a rescue that grew out of the friendship. This blend of 
 the spirit of the old world and the new, meeting in the grimy Chicago 
 shop and finding out their need of each other, gives the book a 
 piquancy. 
 
 THE FOOL IN CHRIST 
 
 By Gerhart Hauptmann. Crown 8vo, 6s. {September 
 
 A translation of Hauptmann's most wonderful novel — a work that 
 attempts to place the living human Christ before sop .listicated twentieth- 
 century eyes. Whatever other eff"ect it may have, the book cannot 
 fail to cause discussion. In Quint, a figure at once pathetic and inspir- 
 ing, the author has drawn a character whose divine charm should 
 be felt by every reader. 
 
 CHARLES THE GREAT 
 
 By Mrs. H. H. Penrose, Author of 'The Sheltered 
 
 Woman,' etc. Crown 8vo, 6s. [September 
 
 Charles the Great is a very light comedy, and it therefore counts 
 as a new departure for Mrs. H. H. Penrose. Those who like their 
 fiction to provide them with ' a good laugh ' will doubtless prefer this 
 book, which is packed from cover to cover with mirth-provoking 
 material, to those other books by the same author, in which humour 
 acts chiefly as train-bearer to tragedy. The determination of Charles 
 to invent for himself a greatness which he is incapable of otherwise 
 achieving, and its effect on his circle of intimates, are set forth in an 
 exceedingly lively story, the plot of which it would be unfair to give 
 away. 
 
 THE ACE OF HEARTS 
 
 By C. Thomas-Stanford. Crown Svo, 6s. [September 
 
 An English Member of Parliament, spending a holiday in the 
 Portuguese island of Madeira in January 1912, becomes unwittingly 
 privy to a plot against the Republican Government. The conspirators, 
 fearful that he will betray their secrets, make him prisoner ; but he 
 escapes to experience a series of adventures on the rugged coast, and 
 amid the wild mountains of the island. Through the tangled web of 
 plot and counter-plot runs the thread of a love slor}'. 
 
 METHUEN & CO. LTD., 36 ESSEX STREET, LONDON, W.C.
 
 A SELECTION OF BOOKS 
 
 PUBLISHED BY METHUEN 
 
 AND CO. LTD., LONDON 
 
 36 ESSEX STREET 
 
 W.C. 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Qencral Literature . . > 
 
 Ancient Cities. ... la 
 
 Antiquary's Books. . . i« 
 
 Arden Shakespeare . . X3 
 
 ClanicB of Art . ' . 13 
 
 "Complete" Seriei . . 13 
 
 Connoisseur's Library . . 14 
 Handbooks of English Church 
 
 History 14 
 
 Handbooks of Theology . 14 
 
 *' Home Life" Series . . 14 
 Illustrated Pocket Library of 
 
 Plain and Coloured Booka 15 
 
 Leaders of Keligion . . 15 
 
 Library of Devotion . . 16 
 
 Little Books on Art . . x6 
 
 Little Galleries ... 17 
 
 Little Guides , . , , 17 
 
 Little Library .... 18 
 
 Little Quarto Shakespeare 
 
 Miniaturs Library 
 New Library of Medicine 
 New Library «f Music 
 ©xfurd Siojraphies 
 Three Flays 
 States of Italy 
 Westminster Commentaries 
 "Young" Scries . 
 Shilling Library 
 
 Books for Travellers 
 Some Books on Art . • 
 Some Books on Italy . 
 
 Fiction .... 
 
 Two-Shilling Novels . 
 Books for Boys and Giria 
 Shilling Novels 
 Novels of Alexandre Dumas 
 Sixpenny Books 
 
 ig 
 19 
 19 
 19 
 19 
 
 30 
 
 20 
 
 ao 
 
 30 
 31 
 
 31 
 
 31 
 S3 
 
 93 
 27 
 
 27 
 28 
 
 a8 
 29 
 
 JULY 1912
 
 A SELECTION OF 
 
 MESSRS. METHUEN'S 
 
 PUBLICATIONS 
 
 Tn this Catalogue the order is according to authors. An asterisk denotei 
 that the booW is in the press. , „ ,, ,, . xt i • j, 
 
 Colonial Editions are published of all Messrs. Methukn s Novels issued 
 at a price abo\e 2i. td., and similar editions are published of some works of 
 General Literature. Colonial editions are only for circulation in the British 
 Colonies and India. 
 
 All books marked net are not subject to discount, and cannot be bought 
 at less than the published price. Books not marked net are subject to the 
 discount which the bookseller allows. , ,, . ,_ , n rr 
 
 Messrs. Methukn's books are kept in stock by all good booksellers. II 
 there is any difficulty in seeing copies, Messrs. Methuen will be very glad to 
 have e.-irly information, and specimen copies of any books will be sent on 
 receipt of the published price plus postage for net books, and of the published 
 price for ordinary books. . 
 
 This Catalogue contains only a selection of the more important books 
 published by Messrs. Methuen. A complete and illustrated catalogue of their 
 publications may be obtained on application. 
 
 Andrewes (Lancelot). PRECES PRI- 
 VATAE. Translated and edited, with 
 Notes, by F. E. Erightman. Cr. Sve. 6s. 
 
 Aristotle. THE ETHICS. Edited, with 
 an Introduction and Notes, by John 
 BuRNBT. Demy ivo. lor. €d, net. 
 
 Atkinson CC T.). A HISTORY OF GER- 
 MANY, 1715-1815. Dtmy ivo. 12s. td. net. 
 
 Atkinson (T. D."). ENGLISH ARCHI- 
 TECTURE. Illustrated. Fcap.ivo. 2S.6d. 
 net. 
 
 A GLOSSARY OF TERMS USED IN 
 ENGLISH ARCHITECTURE. Illus- 
 trated. Second Edition. Fcap. %vo. 3^ . id. 
 net. 
 
 ENGLISH AND WELSH CATHEDRALS. 
 Illustrated. Demy %vo. los. td. net. 
 
 Bain (F. W.). A DIGIT OF THE 
 
 MOON : A Hindoo Love Story. Ninth 
 
 Edition. Fcap. Zvo. 3J. td. net. 
 THE DESCENT OF THE SUN : A Cvclb 
 
 OF Birth. Fi/th Edition. Fcap. Svo. 
 
 V. 6d. net. 
 A HEIFER OF THE DAWN. Seventh 
 
 Edition. Fcap. %vo. is. 6d. net. 
 IN THE GREAT GOD'S HAIR. Fi/th 
 
 Edition. Fcap. Svo. is. td. net. 
 A DRAUGHT OF THE BLUE. Fourth 
 
 Edition. Fcap. ivo. is. (td. net. 
 
 AN ESSENCE OF THE DUSK. Third 
 
 Edition. Fcap. Zzio. zs. 6d. net. 
 AN INCARNATION OF THE SNOW. 
 
 Second Edition. Fcap. Svo. y. td. net. 
 A MINE OF FAULTS. Sec»nd Edition. 
 
 Fcap. Svo. 3J. 6d. net. 
 THE ASHES OF A GOD. Fcap. Zve. 
 
 3^. td. net. 
 •BUBBLES OF THE FOAM. Fcap ^to. 
 
 5 J. net. Also Fcap. Svo. 2s. td. net. 
 
 Balfoup (Graham). THE LIFE OF 
 ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. lUus. 
 trated. Fifth Edition in one Volume. 
 Cr. Zvo. Buckram, 6s. Also Fcap. &vo. 
 IS. net. 
 
 Baring (Hon. Maurice). A YEAR IN 
 RUSSIA. Second Edition. Demy ivo. 
 10s. td. net. 
 
 LANDMARKS IN RUSSIAN LITERA- 
 TURE. Second Edition. Crown Sva 
 6s. net. 
 
 RUSSIAN ESSAYS AND STORIES. 
 Second Edition. Crown Svo. $3. net. 
 
 THE RUSSIAN PEOPLE. Demy 6va. 
 15J. net. 
 
 Baring-Gould (S.). THE LIFE OF 
 NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. Illustrated. 
 Second Edition. Royal Sve. lot. td. n*t.
 
 General Literature 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF THE C/ESARS : 
 
 A Study of the Characters ok thb 
 
 C^SARS or THE Julian and Claudian 
 
 Houses. Illustrated. Seventh Edition. 
 
 Royal ivo. loj. 6'. net, 
 THE VICAR OF MliRWENSTOW. With 
 
 a Portrait. Third Edition. Cr. Zvo. -^s. 6d. 
 
 *Also Fcap. ivo. is. net. 
 OLD COUNTRY LIFE. Illustrated. i^i/VA 
 
 Edition. Large Cr. ivo. 6s. 
 A BOOK OF CORNWALL. Illustrated. 
 
 Third Edition. Cr. Ivo. ts. 
 A BOOK OF DARTMOOR. Illustrated. 
 
 Second Edition, Cr. %vo. ts. 
 A BOOK OF DEVON. Illustrated. Third 
 
 Edition. Cr. ivo. ts. 
 
 Baring-Gould CS. ) and Sheppard (H. 
 Fleetwood). A GARLAND OF 
 COUNTRY SONG. English Folk Songs 
 with their I'raditional Melodies. Demy ^to. 
 6x. 
 
 SONGS OF THE WEST: Folk Songs of 
 Devon and Cornwall. Collected from the 
 Mouths of the People. New and Rtvi-ed 
 Edition, under the musical editorship of 
 Cecil J. Sharp. Large Imperial 8vo. 
 SS. net. 
 
 Barker (E.). THE POLITICAL 
 THOUGHT OF PLATO AND ARIS- 
 TOTLE. Demy Zvo. los. 6d. net. 
 
 Bastable (C. F.). THE COMMERCE 
 
 OF iNATlONS. Fi/th Edition. Cr. Sva. 
 as. 6d. 
 
 Beekfopd (Peter). THOUGHTS ON 
 HUNTING. Edited by J. Otho Paget. 
 Illustrated. Third Edition. Demy Zvo. ts. 
 
 Belloe (H.). PARIS. Illustrated. Second 
 
 Edition, Revised. Cr. Zvo. ts. 
 HILLS AND '1 HE SEA. Fourth Edition. 
 
 Fcafi. Zvo. ss. 
 ON NOTHING AND KINDRED SUB- 
 JECTS. Third Edition. Fcap. Zvo. ^s. 
 ON EVERYTHING. Third Edition. Fcap. 
 
 Zvo. is. 
 ON SOMETHING. Second Edition. Fcap. 
 
 6vo. 5^. 
 FIRST AND LAST. Second Edition. 
 
 Fcap. Zvo. 5J. 
 MARIE ANTOINETTE. Illustrated. 
 
 Third Edition. Demy Zvo. 15J. nez. 
 THE PYRENEES. Illustrated. Second 
 
 Edition. Demy Zvo. ys. td. net. 
 
 Bennett (W. H.). A PRIMER OF THE 
 BIBLE. Fi/th Edition. Cr. Zvo. 2S. td. 
 
 Bennett (W, H.) and Adeney (W. P.). A 
 BIBLICAL INTRODUCTION. With a 
 concise Bibliograpiiy. Sixth Edition. Cr. 
 Zvo, TS, td, A Iso in Two Volumes. Cr. 
 ^vo. Each 2,s. td. net. 
 
 Benson (Archbishop). 
 
 Comraunion Addresses, 
 jffa/. ivo. V. td. n*t. 
 
 GOD'S BOARD. 
 Second Edition. 
 
 Bicknell (Ethel E.). PARIS AND HER 
 TREASURES. Illustrated. Fcap. Zvo. 
 Round comers, ss. net. 
 
 Blake (Vt^llliam). ILLUSTRATIONS OF 
 
 THE BOOK. OF JOB. With a (icuen.l In- 
 troduction by Laurence Binyon. Illus- 
 trated Quarto. 2is. net. 
 
 Bloemfonteln (Bishop of). ARA CtELI: 
 An Essay i.n iMysiical Theology. 
 Fifth Edition. Cr. Zvo. ^s. td. net. 
 
 FAITH AND EXPERIENCE. Second 
 Edition. Cr. Zvo, 3J. td. net. 
 
 Bowden (E. M.\ THE IMITATION OF 
 BUDDHA: Quotations from Buddhist 
 Literature for each Day in the Year. Sixth 
 Edition. Cr. itmo. 2S. td. 
 
 Brabant (F. G.). RAMBLES IN SUSSEX. 
 
 Illustrated. Cr. Zvo. 6s. 
 
 Bradley (A. G.). ROUND ABOUT WILT- 
 SHI RE. Illustrated. Second Edition. Cr. 
 Zvo. ts. 
 
 THE ROMANCE OF NORTHUMBER- 
 LAND. Illustrated. Second Edition. Demy 
 Zvo. TS. td. net. 
 
 Braid (James). ADVANCED GOLF, 
 
 Illustrated. Seventh Edition. Demy Zvo. 
 10s. td. net. 
 
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 29 
 
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 Albanesl (E. Maria). LOVE AND 
 
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 I KNOW A MAIDEN. 
 THE BLUNDER OF AN INNOCENT. 
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 Austen (J.). PRIDE AND PREJUDICE. 
 Bagot (Richard). A ROMAN MYSTERY. 
 CASTING OF NETS. 
 DONNA DIANA. 
 
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 SWORD. 
 
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 CHEAP JACK ZITA. 
 
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 IN THE ROAR OF THE SEA. 
 
 NOEML 
 
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 IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS. 
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 A FLASH OF 
 
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 A STATE SECRET. 
 
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 BUSINESS IN 
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 TREASURE. 
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 BUNTER'S CRUISE. 
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 ANTONIO. 
 
 PHROSO. 
 
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 NO TALES. 
 
 DEAD MEN TELL 
 
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 DAVID. 
 
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 GEORGE and THE GENERAL. 
 
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 TROUBLESOME DAUGHTERS. 
 
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