mr ,{? 
 
 z/i^z^;>rmi!Z^^ i/^ 
 
 ./v:5^ 
 
 >fe ,Ji 
 
 «#-■- 
 
 eAmif ^/i^^ue^ 
 
 c)fc/^/^^^'-'\
 
 n
 
 TOURMALIN'S 
 TIME CHEQUES 
 
 BY 
 
 F. ANSTEY 
 
 AUTHOR OP VICE VERSA, THE TINTED VENUS, 
 THE BLA.CK POODLE, ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
 
 1891
 
 Authonzed edition.
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNM 
 
 SANTA BARBARA 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 On Deck — Curry and Culture — Alternative Distrac- 
 tions — A Period of Probation — The Oath and 
 the Talisman — Wavering — A Chronological Er- 
 ror — The Time Bargain — Tourmalin Opens an 
 Account 7 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 tourmalin's first cheque and how he took it. 
 
 Fidelity Rewarded — Love's Catechism — Brain-fag : 
 a Timely Recollection — The Experiment, and 
 some Startling Results — Question Time — " Dear 
 Friends " — A Compromise 29 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 the second cheque. 
 
 Furnishing — A Cosy Corner — " Sitting Out " — Fresh 
 Discoveries — Twice a Hero — Bewilderment and 
 Bathos 48
 
 4 C0ntertt0. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE THIRD CHEQUE. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Good Resolutions — Casuistry — A Farewell Visit — 
 Small Profit and a Quick Return . . .63 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE FOURTH CHEQUE. 
 
 A Blue Moon— Felicity in a Flat— Practical Astron- 
 omy — Temptation and a Relapse — The Diflleul- 
 ties of being Completely Candid — A Slight Mis- 
 understanding — The Avenging Orange . . 78 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PERIODIC DRAWINGS. 
 
 A Series of Cheques — Their Advantages and Draw- 
 backs — An Unknown Factor — Uncom pleted 
 Confidences— Ibsen, with Intervals — A Disap- 
 pointment. — A "Search Question" from Sophia 
 — Confidence Restored 93 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FOIL AND COUNTERFOIL. 
 
 The Duties of Authorship— Peter's Continued Per- 
 versity and its Unforeseen Results — " Alfred " — 
 The Tragic Note — An Interrupted Crisis — A Do- 
 mestic Surprise 114
 
 Contcnt0. 5 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE CULMINATING CHEQUE. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Sophia Gives an Explanation, and Requests One — 
 Her Verdict — Peter Overruled .... 130 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PAID IN HIS OWN COIN. 
 
 In Suspense — A Gleam of Comfort — Darkness Re- 
 turns — The Rock Ahead — Sir William Lends his 
 Binocular — Reappearance of an Old Enemy — A 
 New Danger — Out of the Frying-pan . . 146 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 COMPOUND INTEREST. 
 
 Back to the Fire Again — A Magnanimous Return — 
 Catching at Straws — Two Total Strangers — 
 Purely a Question of Precedence — " Hemmed 
 in " and " Surrounded " — The Last Chance . 163 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Denouement 185 
 
 THE EPILOGUE 190
 
 TOURMALIN'S TIME CHEQUES. 
 
 THE PEOLOGUE. 
 
 On Deck. — Curry and Culture. — Alternative Distractions. 
 — A Period of Probation. — The Oath and the Talis- 
 man. — Wavering. — A Chronological Error. — The Time 
 Bargain. — Tourmalin Opens an Account. 
 
 Mr. Peter Tourmalin was sitting, or rather 
 lying, in a steamer-chair, on the first-class sa- 
 loon-deck of the P. and O. ship Boomerang, 
 which had not been many days as yet on the 
 voyage home from Sydney. He had been 
 trying to read ; but it was a hot morning, and 
 the curry, of which he had partaken freely 
 at breakfast, had made him feel a little heavy 
 and disinclined for mental exertion just then, 
 particularly as Buckle's History of Civiliza- 
 tion, the first volume of which he had brought
 
 8 ®ottrmalin'0 ®iine (i[II)cqne0. 
 
 up from the ship's library, is not exactly light 
 literature at any time. 
 
 He wanted distraction of some sort, but he 
 could not summon up sufficient energy to rise 
 and pace the deck, as his only acquaintance on 
 board, a Mr. Perkins, was doing with a breezy 
 vigor which Tourmalin found himseK feebly 
 resenting. 
 
 Another alternative was open to him, it is 
 true : not far away were other deck-chairs, in 
 which some of the lady passengers were read- 
 ing, writing, and chatting more or less lan- 
 guidly. There were not very many on board 
 — for it was autumn, a time at which home- 
 wardbound vessels are not apt to be crowded 
 — but even in that small group there were 
 one or two with whom it might have seemed 
 possible to pass a little time in a pleasant and 
 profitable manner. For instance, there was 
 that tall, graceful girl in the navy-blue skirt, 
 and the striped cotton blouse confined at her 
 slender waist by a leathern belt. (Tourmahn, 
 it should be mentioned, was in the habit of 
 noticing the details of feminine costume.) She 
 had regular features, gray eyes which lighted 
 up whenever she spoke, and an expression of
 
 Srije Probgnc. 
 
 siDgular nobility and sweetness ; her fair hair 
 was fastened up in loose gleaming masses un- 
 der her highly becoming straw hat, 
 
 Peter watched her surreptitiously, from time 
 to time, from behind the third page of Buckle. 
 She was attempting to read a novel ; but her 
 attention, like his own, wandered occasionally, 
 and he even fancied that he surprised her 
 now and then in the act of glancing at himself 
 with a certain interest. 
 
 Near her was another girl, not quite so tall, 
 and darker, but scarcely less pleasing in appear- 
 ance. She wore a cool-looking pink frock, 
 and her luxuriant bronze tresses were set off 
 by a simple white flannel cap. She held some 
 embroidery in her listless fingers, but was prin- 
 cipally occupied in gazing out to sea with a 
 wistful and almost melancholy expression. 
 Her eyes were soft and brown, and her feat- 
 ures piquantly irregular ; giving Peter, wlio 
 considered himself no mean judge of female 
 character, the impression of a highly emo- 
 tional and enthusiastic temperament. He 
 thought he saw signs that she also honored 
 him by her notice. 
 
 Peter was a flat-headed little man, with
 
 10 ©ourmalin's Qtimc (tl)cc\ncs. 
 
 weak eyes and flaxen hair ; but even fiat- 
 headed little men may indulge these fancies 
 at times, without grossly deceiving themselves. 
 He knew, as one does learn such things on 
 board ship, that the name of the first young 
 lady was Tyrrell, and that she was the daugh- 
 ter of a judge who had been spending the 
 Long Vacation in a voyage to recruit his 
 health. Of the other, he knew no more than 
 that she was a Miss Davenport. 
 
 At present, however, he had no personal 
 acquaintance with either of them, and, in fact, 
 as has already been said, knew nobody on 
 board to speak to, except the energetic Mr. 
 Perkins, a cheery man with a large fund of 
 general information, who was going home on 
 some business connected with a banking house 
 in Melbourne. 
 
 And yet it is not diflicult to make acquaint- 
 ances on board ship, if a man cares to do so ; 
 accident or design will provide opportunities 
 in plenty, and two or three days at sea are 
 equivalent to at least as many weeks on shore. 
 And Peter being quite aware of these facts, 
 and by no means indifferent to the society of 
 the other sex, which, indeed -he considered
 
 ®l)e Prologue. 11 
 
 more 'interesting than that of his own, it 
 would seem that he must have had some strong 
 reason for having kept studiously apart from 
 the social life on board the BoomeroMg. 
 
 He had a reason, and it was this : he was 
 an engaged man, and on his probation. A 
 bachelor, still under thirty, of desultory hab- 
 its which unfitted him to shine in any pro- 
 fession, he had a competency — that refuge of 
 the incompetent — which made him independ- 
 ent. 
 
 Some months previously he had had the 
 good fortune to meet with a lady somewhat 
 his junior in years, but endowed with charms 
 of mind and character which excited his ad- 
 miration and reverence. He recognized that 
 she supplied the qualities in which he felt him- 
 self deficient ; he was weary of the rather 
 purposeless life he had led. He wanted a wife 
 who would regulate and organize his exist- 
 ence ; and Miss Sophia Pinceney, with her 
 decision and her thoroughness, was eminently 
 the person to do it. So it was not long be- 
 fore he took courage and proposed to her. 
 
 Miss Pinceney, though she had been highly 
 educated, and possessed a considerable fortune
 
 12 Sonrmalin's ®ime (t\)cqnc5. 
 
 of lier own, was by no means inclined to look 
 unfavorably upon such a suitor. He might not 
 be quite her intellectual equal, but he was anx- 
 ious to improve his mind. He was amiable 
 and amenable, and altogether likely, under care- 
 ful guidance, to prove an excellent husband. 
 
 But she was prudent, and reason told her 
 that the suddenness of Peter's passion was no 
 guarantee of its enduring qualities. She had 
 heard and seen too much of a rather catholic 
 susceptibility in his nature, to feel it safe to in- 
 cur so grave a risk as marriage until she had 
 certain proof that his attachment to her was 
 robust enough to bear the severest test ; and 
 to that test she was determined to submit him. 
 
 She consented to an engagement on one 
 condition, that he was to take a long voyage. 
 If he returned in the same mind, she would 
 be sufficiently sure of his constancy to marry 
 liim as soon as he wished : if he did not, her 
 misgivings would be amply justified. There 
 was very little sentiment about Sophia; she 
 took a practical and philosophical view of 
 the marriage union, as became a disciple of 
 Ibsen. 
 
 " I like you, Peter," she told him frankly ;
 
 ®l)e Prologue. 13 
 
 " you have many qualities that endear you to 
 me, but I don't feel that I can depend upon 
 you at present. And from what I know of 
 you, I fear it is only too probable that ab- 
 sence and the attractive society of a passen- 
 ger-ship may lead you to discover that you 
 have mistaken the depth of the feeling you 
 entertain for me." 
 
 " But look here, Sophia," he had expostu- 
 lated ; " if you're afraid of that, why do you 
 make me go ? " 
 
 "Because," she had replied, with her ad- 
 mirable common sense, " because, if my fears 
 should prove to be unhappily only too well- 
 founded, I shall, at least, have made the dis- 
 covery before it is too late." 
 
 And, in spite of all his protests, Peter had 
 to go. Sophia sought to reconcile him to 
 this necessity by pointing out the advantages 
 of travel, the enlarffino; effect it would have 
 upon his mind, and the opportunities a long 
 sea-voyage afforded for regular and uninter- 
 rupted study on the lines she had already 
 mapped out for him ; but despite these con- 
 solations, he went away in low spirits. "When 
 the moment came for parting, even the strong-
 
 14 dTonrtttttlin's QTime (E\)cc\nes. 
 
 minded Sophia was seized with a kind of 
 compunction. 
 
 " Something tells me, Peter," she said, " that 
 the ordeal will prove too much for you : in 
 spite of your good resolutions, you will sooner 
 or later be drawn into some flirtation which 
 will make you forget me. I know you so well, 
 Peter ! " 
 
 " I wish you could show a little more confi- 
 dence in me," he had answered in a wounded 
 tone. " Since I met you, Sophia, I have 
 ceased to be the butterfly I was. But as you 
 seem to doubt me, it may relieve your mind 
 if I promise faithfully that, while I am away 
 from you, I will never, under any induce- 
 ment, allow myself to overstep the limits of 
 the most ordinary civility toward any Avoman 
 with whom I may be brought in contact. I 
 swear it, Sophia ! Are you satisfied now ? " 
 
 Perhaps he had a secret prevision that 
 a time might come when this oath would 
 prove a salutary restraint upon his straying 
 fancy, and it certainly had an immediate and 
 most reassuring effect upon Sophia. 
 
 Tourmalin had gone out to Australia, had 
 seen something of the country during his stay
 
 @;i)e Prologue. 15 
 
 in the colony, and was now, as we have seen, 
 on his return ; and during the whole time his 
 oath, to his great credit, had been literally and 
 faithfully kept. 
 
 During the voyage out, he had been too per- 
 sistently unwell to be inclined to dally with 
 sentiment ; but in his subsequent wanderings, 
 he had avoided, or rather escaped, all inter- 
 course with any Colonial ladies who might 
 by any possibility affect his allegiance to 
 • Sophia, whose image consequently still held 
 undisputed possession of his heart. 
 
 In case he should feel himself wavering at 
 any time, he had been careful to provide 
 himself with a talisman in the shape of a 
 photograph, the mere sight of which would 
 be instantly effectual. But somehow, since 
 he had been on board the Boomerang, the 
 occasions on which he had been driven to 
 refer to this photograph had been growing 
 more and more frequent ; while, at the same 
 time, he had a tormenting consciousness that 
 it took an increasingly longer time to work. 
 
 He brought it out now, and studied it at- 
 tentively. It was the likeness of a girl with- 
 out any great pretensions to beauty, with dark
 
 16 Sourmalin's Sime dicrjtte©. 
 
 hair rolled neatly back from a massive brow 
 that shone with intellectuality ; penetrating 
 eyes, whose keenness was generally tempered 
 by folding glasses ; a large, firm mouth, and 
 a square chin ; altogether, the face of a young 
 woman who would stand no trifling. 
 
 He put it back respectfully in his pocket ; 
 but the impulse to go across and drop, in an 
 accidental fashion, into a vacant seat near one 
 of those two girls was still unconquered. He 
 was feeling so dull ; he had got such a very 
 little way into the History of Civilization^ a 
 work which he was reading rather for Sophia's 
 satisfaction than his own, and there was such 
 a lot more of it ! Might he not allow him- 
 self a brief holiday, and beguile the long 
 weary morning with a little cheerful conver- 
 sation ? It was most unlikely, strict etiquette 
 being by general consent suspended on board 
 ship, that either young lady would resent a 
 hazarded remark — at all events, he could but 
 try. 
 
 But then his oath — his rash and voluntary 
 oath to Sophia — what of that ? He had not, 
 it was true, debarred himself from ordinary 
 civility ; but could he be sure of keeping
 
 ^\)c prologtjc. 17 
 
 always within those bounds if the acquaint- 
 anceship was once established ? He had rea- 
 sons for doubting this very seriously. And, be- 
 sides, had not Sophia more than hinted in her 
 last letter that, as a reward for his fidelity, 
 she might join the ship at Gibraltar with her 
 mother, and so put an earlier end to his term 
 of probation? He could not be too careful. 
 After holding out so long, it would be mad- 
 ness to relax his precautions now. No, he 
 would resist these Sirens, like a modern Ulysses ; 
 though, in the latter's case, the Sirens were not 
 actually on board, and, even then, the hero 
 had to be lashed to the mast. But Tourmalin 
 felt confident, notwithstanding, that he would 
 prove at least as obdurate as the wily Greek. 
 
 He was not a strong-minded man ; but he 
 had one quality which is almost as valuable 
 a safeguard against temptation as strength of 
 mind — namely, timidity. 
 
 His love for his betrothed was chastened 
 by a considerable dash of awe, and he was re- 
 solved not to compromise himself in her eyes 
 just for the sake of a little temporary distrac- 
 tion. 
 
 At this point of his deliberations he looked 
 2
 
 18 STourmalin's ®ime QTIjcqucs. 
 
 at his watch : it was close upon twelve ; only 
 one hour to be got through before tiflSn. 
 Why, an hour was nothing ; he could surely 
 contrive to kill it over Buckle ! A little 
 courage, a little concentration, and he would 
 certainly attain to an interest in " the laws 
 which govern human actions." 
 
 The ship's bells were just striking ; he 
 counted the strokes: one, two, three, four, 
 five — and no more ! There must be some 
 mistake ; it could not possibly be only half- 
 past ten. Why, it was hours since break- 
 fast ! 
 
 " Looking at your watch, eh 1 " said his 
 friend Perkins, as he reached Peter's chair 
 for about the hundredth time. " Ah ! you're 
 fast, I see. Haven't altered your watch yet ? 
 They've put the ship's clock back again this 
 morning ; nearly half an hour it was this 
 time — it was rather less yesterday and the day 
 before : we shall go on gaining so much extra 
 time a da}', I suppose, till we get to Gib." 
 
 " You don't mean to tell me that ! " ex- 
 claimed Peter, with a half-suppressed groan. 
 If the time had seemed tedious and inter- 
 minable enough before, how much more so
 
 ^[)c Prologue. 19 
 
 was it now ! How infinitely greater would the 
 effort be to fix his thoughts resolutely on 
 Buckle, and ignore the very existence of his 
 distracting neighbors, now that it was to be 
 daily prolonged in this exasperating manner ! 
 
 " You don't seem to appreciate the arrange- 
 ment ? " remarked the Manager, as he allowed 
 himself to drop cautiously — for he was a bulky 
 man — ^into a hammock-chair beside Tourmalin. 
 
 "Appreciate it!" said Peter, with strong 
 disgust, " Aren't there enough half-hours, 
 and confoundedly long ones, too, in the day as 
 it is, without having extra ones forced on you 
 like this ? And giving it to us in the day- 
 time, too ! They might at least put the clock 
 back at night, when it wouldn't so much mat- 
 ter. I do think it's very bad management, I 
 must say ! " 
 
 His companion began a long explanation 
 about the meridian, and sun's time, and ship's 
 time, and Greenwich time, to which Peter 
 gave but a very intermittent attention, so stu- 
 pefied did he feel at this unwelcome discovery. 
 
 "It's a curious thing to think of," the 
 other was saying thoughtfully, " that a man 
 by simply making a voyage like this, should
 
 20 QLonxmaiiri'Q QLimc (Il)cqttcs. 
 
 make a clear gain of several hours wliich he 
 would never have had at all if he had stayed 
 at home ! " 
 
 " I would much rather be without them," 
 said Peter. " I find it quite difficult enough 
 to spend the time as it is ; and how on earth 
 I can spend any more, I don't know ! " 
 
 " Why spend it, then ? " asked his friend 
 quietly. 
 
 " What else am I to do with it ? " 
 
 " What else ? See here, my friend ; when 
 you have an amount of spare cash that you've 
 no immediate use for, you don't let it lie idle 
 at home, do you ? You pay it in to your 
 credit at a bank, and let it remain on deposit 
 till you do want it — eh ? Well, then, why not 
 treat your spare time as you would your spare 
 cash. Do you see what I mean ? " 
 
 "Not altogether," confessed Peter, consid- 
 erably puzzled. 
 
 " It's simple enough nowadays. For in- 
 stance, the establishment I have the honor to 
 be connected with — the Anglo- Australian Joint 
 Stock Time Bank, Limited — confines itseK, as 
 you are doubtless aware, almost entirely to that 
 class of business."
 
 ©lie probgne. 21 
 
 " Ah ! " said Peter, no more enliglitened 
 than before, " does it indeed ? Would you 
 mind explaining what particular class of busi- 
 ness it carries on ? I don't quite under- 
 stand." 
 
 " Bless my soul, sir ! " said the Manager, 
 rather irritably, you must be uncommonly ig- 
 norant of financial matters not to have heard 
 of this before ! However, I will try to make 
 it clear to you. I dare say you have heard 
 that ' Time is money ? ' "Very well, all our 
 operations are conducted on that principle. 
 We are prepared to make advances, on good 
 security of course, of time to almost any 
 amount ; and we are «imply overwhelmed with 
 applications for loans. Business men, as you 
 may know, are perpetually pressed for time, 
 and mil consent to almost anything to obtain 
 it. Our transactions in time, sir, are immense. 
 Why, the amount of Time passing through our 
 books annually during the last ten years, aver- 
 ages — ah ! about sixty centuries ! That's pret- 
 ty well, I think, sir ? " 
 
 He was so perfectly business-like and seri- 
 ous that Peter almost forgot to see anything 
 preposterous in what he said.
 
 22 ^onrmoUn's Qimc (Kfjcques. 
 
 " It sounds magnificent," he said politely ; 
 "only you see, I don't want to borrow any 
 time myself. I've too much on my hands al- 
 ready." 
 
 " Just so," said the Manager ; " but if you 
 will kindly hear me out, I am coming to that. 
 Lending time is only one side of our business ; 
 we are also ready to accept the charge of any 
 spare time that customers may be willing to 
 deposit with us, and, with our experience and 
 facilities, I need hardly say that we are able to 
 employ it to the best advantage. Now, say, 
 for example, that you wish to open an account 
 with us. Well, we'll take these spare half- 
 hours of yours that are f»nly an encumbrance 
 to you at present, and if you choose to allow 
 them to remain on deposit, they will carry in- 
 terest at five per cent, per month ; that is, five 
 minutes on every hour and three quarters 
 roughly, for each month, until you withdraw 
 them. In that way alone, by merely leaving 
 your time with us for six months you will gain 
 — now, let me see — over tb.ree additional hours 
 in compound interest on your original capital 
 of ten hours or so. And no previous notice 
 required before withdrawal ! Let me tell you,
 
 ®l)e prologne. 23 
 
 sir, you will not find many banks do business 
 on such terms as that ! " 
 
 " No," said Peter, who could not follow all 
 this arithmetic, " so I should imagine. Only, 
 I don't quite see, if you will pardon my saying 
 so, what particular advantage I should gain if 
 I did open an account of this sort." 
 
 " You don't ? You surprise me, you really 
 do ! Here are you, with these additional hours 
 lying idle on your hands ; you didn't expect 
 'em, and don't want 'em. But how do you 
 know that you maynH be glad of 'em at some 
 time or other ? Just think how grateful you 
 might be hereafter, if you could get back a 
 single one of these half-hours which you find 
 so tedious now. Half an hour on board a fine 
 ship like this, splendid weather, bracing sea- 
 air, perfect rest, pleasant company, and so on 
 — why, you'd be willing to pay any money for 
 it ! Well, bank your extra time ; and you can 
 draw every individual hour in quarters, halves, 
 or wholes, when you please and as you please. 
 Thafs the advantage of it, sir ! " 
 
 " I think I see," said Peter ; " only how am 
 I to make the deposit in the first instance ? " 
 
 " That's easily arranged. The captain can't
 
 24 Sfonrmolin's Sitne €l)eqttcs. 
 
 compel you to accept the time now bj merely 
 putting back tlie hands of the clock, can he ? 
 So all you have to do is to abstain from alter- 
 ing your watch so long as you are on board, 
 and to fill up a little form ; after which I 
 shall be happy to supply you with a book 
 of Time Cheques, which you can fill up and 
 present whenever you wish to spend a given 
 number of minutes in the pleasantest possible 
 of ways." 
 
 " But where am I to present these cheques ? " 
 inquired Peter. 
 
 "Oh!" said the Manager, "there will be 
 no difiiculty whatever about that. Any clock 
 will cash it for you — provided, of course, that 
 it hasn't stopped. You merely have to slip 
 your cheque underneath or behind it, and you 
 will at once be paid whatever amount of time 
 the cheque is drawn for. I can show you one 
 of our forms if you like ? " 
 
 Here he brought out a bulky leather case, 
 from which he extracted a printed document, 
 which he handed to Peter. 
 
 Peter, however, being naturally cautious, 
 felt a hesitation which he scarcely liked to 
 confess.
 
 QL\]c IJJroloigu^. 25 
 
 " You see," he said, " the fact is, I should 
 like to know first . . . I've never been engaged 
 in a — a transaction of this kind before ; and, 
 well — what 1 mean is, do I incur any risk of 
 — er — a supernatural character? ... It isn't 
 like that business of Faust's, eh, don't you 
 know ? " 
 
 The Manager took back the paper with an 
 abruptness which showed that his temper was 
 ruffled by this suspicion. 
 
 " My good sir ! " he said, with a short 
 offended laugh, "don't, on any account, im- 
 agine that / care two pins whether you be- 
 come a depositor or not. I dare say our house 
 will continue to exist without your account. 
 As for liability, ours is a limited concern ; and, 
 besides, a deposit would not constitute you 
 a shareholder. If you meant anything more 
 — well, I have still to learn that there's any- 
 thing diabolical about me, sir! I simply 
 thought I was doing you a good turn by mak- 
 ing the suggestion ; and, besides, as a business 
 man, I never neglect any opportunity, how- 
 ever small. But it's entirely as you please, 
 I'm sure." 
 
 There was nothing in the least demoniacal,
 
 26 Sourmalin's QLimc (jll)equcs. 
 
 even in his annoyance, and Peter was moved 
 to contrition and apology. 
 
 " I — I really beg your pardon ! " lie said. 
 " I do hope I haven't offended you ; and, if 
 you will allow nie, I shall consider it a personal 
 favor to be allowed to open an account with 
 your bank. It would certainly be a great 
 convenience to draw some of this superfluous 
 time at some future day, instead of wasting it 
 now. Where do I sign the form ? " 
 
 The Manager was appeased ; and produced 
 the form once more, indicating the place for 
 the signature, and even providing a stylo- 
 graph-pen for the purpose. It was still some- 
 what of a relief to Peter's mind to find that 
 the ink it contained was of the ordinary black 
 hue. 
 
 " And now, about cheques," said his friend, 
 after the signature had been obtained. " How 
 many, do you think you would require ? I 
 should say that, as the deposit is rather small, 
 you Mall find fifty more than sufficient ? We 
 shall debit you with fifty seconds to cover 
 the cheque-book. And we always recommend 
 ' bearer ' cheques as, on the whole, more con- 
 venient."
 
 (l\)C Prologue. 27 
 
 Peter said he would have fifty bearer 
 cheques, and was accordingly given an oblong 
 gray-green book, which, except that it was a 
 trille smaller, was in nowise different, out- 
 wardly, from an ordinary cheque-book. Still, 
 his curiosity was not completely satisfied. 
 
 " There is just one question more," he said. 
 "When I draw this time, where will it be 
 spent ? " 
 
 " Wliy, naturally, on board this ship," ex- 
 plained the Manager. " You see that the time 
 yon will get must necessarily be the extra 
 time to which you are entitled by virtue of 
 your passage, and which you would have 
 spent as it accrued if you had not chosen to 
 deposit it with us. By the way, when you are 
 filling up cheques, we much prefer not to be 
 called upon to honor drafts for less than fifteen 
 minutes ; as much more as you like, but not 
 less. Well, then, we may consider that settled. 
 I am extremely glad to have had the oppor- 
 tunity of obliging you ; and I think I can 
 promise that you will have no reason to re- 
 pent of having made such a use of your time. 
 I'll wish you good-by for the present, sir ! " 
 
 The Manager resmned his hygienic tramp
 
 28 ^Tourmalin's STime €l)eqijes. 
 
 round the deck, leaving Peter with the cheque- 
 book in his liand. He was no longer sur- 
 prised : now that he was more familiar with 
 the idea, it seemed a perfectly natural and 
 matter-of-fact arrangement ; he only wondered 
 that he had never thought of so obvious a 
 plan before. And it was an immense relief 
 to know that he had got rid of his extra hours 
 for the present, at all events, and that he could 
 now postpone them to a period at which they 
 would be a boon rather than a burden. 
 
 And very soon he put the cheque-book 
 away, and forgot all about it.
 
 THE STORY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 tourmalin's first cheque, and how he 
 
 TOOK IT. 
 
 Fidelity Rewarded. — Love's Catechism. — Bram-fag. — 
 A Timely Recollection. — The Experiment, and some 
 {Startling Residts, — Question Time. — '■^ Dear Friends.'^ 
 — A Compromise. 
 
 Peter Tourmalin's probation was at an end, 
 and, what was more, he had come through 
 the ordeal triumphantly. How he managed 
 this, he scarcely knew ; no doubt he was aided 
 by the consciousness that the extra hours which 
 he felt hmiselt most liable to mis-spend had 
 been placed beyond his disposal. At all events, 
 when he met Sophia again, he had been able 
 to convince her that her doubts of his con-
 
 30 ©onrtnaUn's Qlimc (t\}e(\ncs. 
 
 stancj, even under the most trying conditions, 
 were entirely undeserved, Now lie was re- 
 ceiving his recompense : his engagement to 
 Sophia was no longer conditional, but a recog- 
 nized and irrevocable fact. It is superfluous 
 to say that he was happy. Sophia had set her- 
 self to repair the deficiencies in his education 
 and culture ; she took him to scientific lectures 
 and classical concerts, and made him read 
 standard authors without skipping. He felt 
 himself daily acquiring balance and serious- 
 ness, and an accurate habit of thought, and 
 all the other qualities which Sophia wished i 
 him to cultivate. 
 
 Still, there were moments when he felt the 
 need of halting and recovering his wind, so 
 to speak, in the steep and toilsome climb to 
 her superior mental level — times when he felt 
 that his overtaxed bram absolutely required 
 relaxation of some sort. 
 
 He felt this particularly one dreary morn- 
 ing, late in November, as he sat in his London 
 chambers, staring with lack -luster eyes at the 
 letter he had that day received from his be- 
 trothed. For, although they met nearly every 
 day, she never allowed one to pass without a
 
 dTourmalin's i^irst €l)cque. 31 
 
 letter — no fond and foolish effusion, be it un- 
 derstood, but a kind of epistolary examination 
 paper, to test the progress he was making. 
 This one contained some searching questions 
 on Buckle's History of Civilization, which he 
 was expected to answer by return of jDOst. He 
 was not supposed to look at the book, though 
 he had ; and even then he felt himself scarcely 
 better fitted to floor the tremendous posers de- 
 vised by Sophia's unwearying care. 
 
 The day before, he had had " search-ques- 
 tions" in English poetry from Chaucer to 
 Mr. Lewis Morris, which had thinned and 
 whitened his hair ; but this was, if possible, 
 even worse. 
 
 He wished now that he had got up his 
 Buckle more thoroughly during his voyage on 
 the Boomerang — and, with the name, his ar- 
 rangement with the manager suddenly rose to 
 his recollection. What had he done with that 
 book of Time Cheques? If he could only 
 get away, if but for a quarter of an hour — 
 away from those somber rooms, with their 
 outlook on dingy house-tops and a murky, 
 rhubarb-colored sky — if he could really ex- 
 change all that for the sunniness and warmth
 
 32 ®ottrmolin'0 ®ime (!ri)equc0. 
 
 and delicious idleness which had once seemed 
 so tedious, what a rest it would be ! And 
 would he not return after such an interlude 
 with all his faculties invigorated, and better 
 able to cope with the task he now found almost 
 insuperable ? 
 
 The first thing was to find the cheque-book, 
 which did not take him long ; though when he 
 had found it, something made him pause be- 
 fore filling up a cheque. What if he had 
 been made a fool of — if the Anglo- Australian 
 Time Cheque Bank never existed, or had sus- 
 pended payment ? But that was easily settled 
 by presenting a cheque. Why should he not, 
 just by way of experiment ? His balance was 
 intact as yet ; he was never likely to need a 
 little ready time more than he did just then. 
 He would draw the minimum amount, fifteen 
 minutes, and see how the system worked. 
 
 So, although he had little real confidence 
 that anything would happen at all, he drew a 
 cheque, and slipped it behind the frivolous and 
 rather incorrect little ormolu clock upon his 
 chimey-piece. 
 
 The result was instantaneous, and altogether 
 beyond his expectations ! The four walls of
 
 STourmalin'a iTirst (t\)cc\ne. 33 
 
 his room assumed the transparency of gauze 
 for a second, before fading entirely away ; the 
 olive fog changed to translucent blue ; there 
 was a briny breath in the air, and he himself 
 was leaning upon the rail at the forward end 
 of the hurricane-deck of the Boomerang^ which 
 was riding with a slow and stately rise and fall 
 over the heaving swell. 
 
 That was surprising enough ; but more sur- 
 prising still was the discovery that he was ap- 
 parently engaged in close and confidential con- 
 versation with a lovely person in whom he 
 distinctly recognized Miss Tyrrell. 
 
 " Yes, I forgive you, Mr. Tourmalin," she 
 was saying, with an evident effort to suppress 
 a certain agitation ; but indeed, indeed^ you 
 must never speak to me like that again ! " 
 
 Now, as Peter was certainly not conscious 
 of ever having spoken to her at all in his life, 
 this was naturally a startling and even embar- 
 assing beginning. 
 
 But he had presence of mind enough to 
 take in the position of affairs, and adapt him- 
 self to them. This was one of the quarters of 
 an hour he ivonld have had, and it was clear 
 that in some portion or other of his spare 
 
 3
 
 34 2rourmalin'0 dCime (SHjequea. 
 
 time he would have made Miss Tyrrell's ac- 
 quaintance in some Avay. Of course he ought 
 to have been paid that particular time first ; 
 but he could easily see from her manner, and 
 the almost tender friendliness which shone in 
 her moistened eyes, that at this period they 
 had advanced considerably beyond mere ac- 
 quaintanceship. There had been some little 
 mistake probably ; the cheques had been 
 wrongly numbered perhaps, or else they were 
 honored without regard to chronological se- 
 quence, which was most confusing. 
 
 Still, he had nothing to do but conceal his 
 ignorance as well as he could, and pick up the 
 loose threads as he went along. He was able, 
 at all events, to assure her that he would not, 
 if he could help it, incur her displeasure by 
 speaking to her " like that " in future. 
 
 " Thanks," she said. " I know it was only 
 a temporary forgetfulness ; and — and if what 
 you suspect should prove to be really true — 
 why, then, Mr. Tourmalin, then, of course, you 
 may come and tell me so." 
 
 " I will," he said. " I shall make a point 
 of it. Only," he thought to himself, " she 
 will have to tell me first what I'm to tell her."
 
 ®0nrmahn'3 i^irst Qri)cqnc. 35 
 
 " And in the mean time," she said, " let us 
 go on as before, as if you had never brought 
 yourself to confide your sad story to me." 
 
 So he had told a sad story, had he? he 
 thought, much bewildered ; for, as he had no 
 story belonging to him of that character, he 
 was afraid he must have invented one, while, 
 of course, he could not ask for information. 
 
 " Yes," he said, with great presence of 
 mind, " forget my unhappy story — let it never 
 be mentioned between us again. We will go 
 on as before — exactly as before." 
 
 " It is our only course," she agreed. " And 
 now," she added, with a cheerfulness that 
 struck him as a little forced, " suppose we 
 talk of something else." 
 
 Peter considered this a good suggestion, pro- 
 vided it was a subject he knew a little more 
 about ; which, unhappily, it was not. 
 
 " You never answered my question," she 
 reminded him. 
 
 He would have liked, as Ministers say in the 
 House, " previous notice of that question ; " 
 but he could hardly say so in so many words. 
 
 " No," he said. " Forgive me if I say that 
 it is a — a painful subject to me."
 
 36 SCotirmohn's ®itne ^l)cqijes. 
 
 " I understand that," she said gently (it 
 was more than he did) ; " but tell me only 
 this : was it that that made you behave as 
 you did ? You are sure you had no other 
 reason ? " 
 
 [" If I said I had," thought Peter, " she will 
 ask me what it was."] " I will be as frank 
 as possible, Miss Tyrrell," he replied. " I 
 had no other reason. "Wliat other reason 
 could I have had ? " 
 
 " I half fancied — but I ought to have seen 
 from the first that, whatever it was, it was not 
 that. And now you have made everything 
 quite clear." 
 
 " I am glad you find it so," said Peter, with 
 a touch of envy. 
 
 " But I might have gone on misunderstand- 
 ing and misjudging, putting you down as 
 proud and cold and misociable, or prejudiced, 
 but for the accident which brought us togeth- 
 er, in spite of your determination that we 
 should remain total strangers." 
 
 It was an accident which had made them 
 acquainted, then. He would draw the cheque 
 which contained that episode of his extra 
 time sooner or later ; but it was distinctly in-
 
 ®ourmoiin'0 i^irst (jri)cquc. 37 
 
 convenient not to have at least some idea of 
 what had happened. 
 
 " A fortunate accident for me, at all events," 
 he said with a judicious recourse to compli- 
 ment, 
 
 " It might have been a very unfortunate 
 one for poor papa," she said, " but for you. 
 I do believe he would have been quite incon- 
 solable." 
 
 Peter felt an agreeable shock. Had he 
 really been fortunate enough to distinguish 
 himself by rescuing the Judge's fair daughter 
 from some deadly peril ? It looked very like 
 it. He had often suspected himself of a latent 
 heroism which had never had an oj^portunity 
 of being displayed. This opportunity must 
 have occurred, and he have proved equal to 
 the occasion, in one of those extra hours ! 
 
 " I can quite imagine that he would be in- 
 consolable indeed ! " he said gallantly. " For- 
 tunately, I was privileged to prevent such a 
 calamity." 
 
 " Tell me again exactly how you did it," 
 she said. " I never quite understood." 
 
 Peter again took refuge in a discreet vague- 
 ness.
 
 38 tourmalin's Stinte (t\)eqnes. 
 
 " Oh," he replied, modestly, " there is not 
 much to tell. I saw the — er — danger, and 
 knew there wasn't a moment to lose ; and 
 then I sprang forward, and — well, you know 
 the rest as well as I do ! " 
 
 " You only just caught him as he was going 
 up the rigging, didn't you ? " she asked. 
 
 So it was the Judge he had saved — not liis 
 daughter ! Peter felt a natural disappoint- 
 ment. But he saw the state of the case now : 
 a powerful judicial intellect over-strained, mel- 
 anchoha, suicidal impulses — it Avas all very 
 sad ; but haj^pily he had succeeded in saving 
 this man to his country. 
 
 " I — ventured to detain him," he said, con- 
 siderately, " seeing that he was — er — rather 
 excited." 
 
 " But weren't you afraid he would bite you ? " 
 
 " No," said Peter, pained at this revelation 
 of the Judge's condition, " that possibility did 
 not occur to me. In fact I am sure that — er 
 — thouo;h the strono;est intellects are occasion- 
 ally subject to attacks of this sort, he would 
 never so far forgot himself as to — er — bite a 
 complete stranger." 
 
 " All ! " she said, " you don't know what a
 
 STottrmalin's i^irst (dbcquc. 39 
 
 savage old creature he can be sometimes. He 
 never ought to be let loose ; I'm sure he's 
 dangerous ! " 
 
 " Oh ! but think, Miss Tyrrell," remonstrated 
 Peter, unmistakably shocked at this unfilial 
 attitude toward a distinguished parent ; " if 
 he was — er — dangerous, he would not be upon 
 the Bench now, surely ! " 
 
 She glanced over her shoulder with evident 
 apprehension. 
 
 " How you frightened me ! " she said. " I 
 thought he was really there ! But I hoj)e 
 they'll shut him up in future, so that he won't 
 be able to do any more mischief. You didn't 
 tell me how you got hold of him. "Was it by 
 his chain or his tail ? " 
 
 Peter did not know ; and, besides, it was as 
 difficult for him to picture himself in the act 
 of seizing a hypochondriacal judge by his 
 watch-chain or coat-tail, as it was for him to 
 comprehend the utter want of feeling that 
 could jDrompt such a question from the suffer- 
 er's own daughter. 
 
 " I hope," he said, with a gravity which he 
 intended as a rebuke—" I hope I treated him 
 with all the respect and consideration possible
 
 40 STourmalin's SCime (Il)cques. 
 
 under the — er — circumstances. ... I am sorry 
 that that remark appears to amuse you ! " 
 
 For Miss Tyrrell was actually laughing, with 
 a merriment in which there was nothing 
 forced. 
 
 " How can I help it ? " she said, as soon 
 as she could speak. " It is too funny to hear 
 you talking of being regretful and considerate 
 to a horrid monkey ! " 
 
 " A tnonkey ! " he repeated involuntarily. 
 
 So it was a monkey that was under restraint 
 and not a Judge of her Majesty's Supreme 
 Court of Judicature ; a discovery wfiicli left 
 him as much in the dark as to what particular 
 service he had rendered as ever, and made 
 him tremble to think what he might have 
 said. But apparently, by singular good for- 
 tune, he had not committed himself beyond 
 recovery ; for Miss Tyrrell only said : 
 
 " I thought you were speaking of the monk- 
 ey, the little wretch that came up behind papa 
 and snatched away all his notes — the notes 
 he had made for the great case he tried last 
 term, and has to deliver judgment upon when 
 the Courts sit again. Surely he told you how 
 important they were, and how awkward it
 
 tourmalin's i'irst Qllicquc. 41 
 
 would have been if the monkey had escaped 
 with them, and torn them into pieces or dropped 
 them into the sea ? — as he probably would liave 
 done but for you ! " 
 
 " Oh, ah, yes ! " said Peter, feeling slightly 
 crest-fallen, for he had hoped he had per- 
 formed a more dashing deed than catching a 
 loose monkey. " I believe your father — Sir 
 John ? " he hazarded ... " Sir William, of 
 course, thank you . . . did mention the fact. 
 But it really was such a trifling thing to do." 
 
 " Papa didn't think so," she said. " He de- 
 clares he 'can never be grateful enough to you. 
 And, whatever it was," she added softly, and 
 even shjdy, " I, at least, can never think lightly 
 of a service which has — has made us what we 
 are to one another." 
 
 What they were to one another ! And 
 what was that? A dreadful uncertainty 
 seized upon Peter. "Was it possil^le that, in 
 some way he did not understand, he was en- 
 gaged to this very charming girl, who Avas 
 almost a stranger to him? The mere idea 
 froze his blood ; for if that was so, how did 
 it affect his position toward Sophia ? At all 
 hazards, he must know the worst at once !
 
 42 (Jourmalin'a QLime (Hljcqtice. 
 
 " Tell me," lie said witli trembling accents, — 
 " I know you have told me already, but tell me 
 once more — precisely what we are to one an- 
 other at present. It would be so much more 
 satisfactory to my mind," he added, in a de- 
 precatory tone, "to have that clearly under- 
 stood." 
 
 "I thought I had made it quite clear al- 
 ready," she said, with the least suspicion of 
 coldness, " that we can be nothing more to one 
 another than friends." 
 
 The relief was almost too much for him. 
 What a dear, good, sensible girl she was ! 
 How perfectly she appreciated the facts ! 
 
 " Friends ! " he cried. " Is that all f Do 
 you really mean we are nothing more than 
 friends ? " 
 
 He caught her hand, in the fervor of his 
 gratitude, and she allowed it to remain in his 
 grasp ; which in the altered state of things, 
 he found rather pleasant than otherwise. 
 
 " Ah ! " she murmured, " don't ask me for 
 more than I have said — more than I can ever 
 say, perhaps ! Let us be content with remain- 
 ing friends — dear friends, if you like — but no 
 more ! "
 
 (Sourmolm 6 i^irst €Iicqnc. 43 
 
 " I will," said Peter promptly, " I will be con- 
 tent. Dear friends, by all means ; but no more ! " 
 
 " No," she assented ; " miless a time should 
 come when — " 
 
 "Yes," said Peter, encouragingly, as she 
 hesitated. " You were about to say, a time 
 when — ? " 
 
 Her lips moved, a faint flush stole into her 
 cheeks ; she was about to complete her sen- 
 tence, when her hand seemed to melt away in 
 his own, and he stood, grasping the empty air, 
 by his own mantelpiece. The upper deck, 
 the heaving bows, the blue seaboard, Miss Tyr- 
 rell herself, all had vanished ; and in their 
 stead were the familiar surroundings of his 
 chamber, the grimy London housefronts, and 
 Sophia's list of questions lying still unanswered 
 upon his writing-table ! His fifteen minutes 
 had come to an end ; the cheque was nowhere 
 to be seen. The minute-hand of his clock had 
 not moved since he last saw it ; but this last 
 circumstance, as he saw on reflection, was only 
 natural, for otherwise the Time Deposit would 
 have conferred no real advantage, as he would 
 never have regained the hours he had tempo- 
 rarily foregone.
 
 44 ®0urmaUn's QLime QTlieqnce. 
 
 For some time Peter sat perfectly still, with 
 his head between his hands, occupied in a men- 
 tal review of this his initial experience of the 
 cheque-book system. It was as different as 
 possible from the spell of perfect rest he had 
 anticipated ; but had it been unpleasant on 
 that account ? In spite of an element of mys- 
 tification at starting, which was inevitable, he 
 was obliged to admit to himself that he had 
 enjoyed this little adventure more than per- 
 haps he should have done. With all his 
 attachment to Sophia, he could hardly be in- 
 sensible to the privilege of suddenly finding 
 himself the friend — and more than that, the 
 dear friend — of so delightful a girl as this 
 Miss Tyrrell. 
 
 There was a strange charm, a peculiar and 
 quite platonic tenderness about an intimacy of 
 this peculiar and unprecedented nature, which 
 increased at every fresh recollection of it. It 
 increased so rapidly indeed, that almost uncon- 
 sciously he drew the cheque-book toward him, 
 and began to fill up another cheque with a 
 view to an immediate return to the Boomer- 
 ang. 
 
 But when he had torn the cheque out, he
 
 9Cottrmalin'0 i^irst (Hljcqnc. 45 
 
 hesitated. It was all quite harmless : the most 
 severe moralist could not convict him of even 
 the most shadowy infidelity toward In&Jlancee, 
 if he chose to go back and follow up a purely 
 retrospective episode like this — an episode 
 which interested and fascinated him so strongly 
 — only, what would Sophia say to it? In- 
 stinctively he felt that the situation, innocent 
 as it was, would fail to commend itself to her. 
 He had no intention of informing her, it was 
 true ; but he knew that he was a poor dis- 
 sembler — he might easily betray himself in 
 some unguarded moment, and then — ]^o ! 
 it was vexing, no doubt ; but upon the whole, 
 it was wiser and better to renounce those addi- 
 tional hours on board the Boomerang alto- 
 gether — to allow this past, that never had, but 
 only might have been, to remain unsummoned 
 and unknown forever. Otherwise, who could 
 tell that, by gradual assaults, even such an af- 
 fection as he had for Sophia might not be 
 eventually undermined. 
 
 But this fear, as he saw the next moment, 
 was almost too extravagant to be seriously 
 taken into account. He felt notliing, and 
 never could feel anything, but warm and sin-
 
 46 STonrmalin's (ZTime Ctl)eques. 
 
 cere friendship for Miss Tyrrell'; and it was 
 satisfactory to know that she was in no danger 
 of mistaking his sentiments. Still, of course 
 there was always a certain risk, particularly 
 when he was necessarily in ignorance of all 
 that had preceded and followed the only col- 
 loquy they had had as yet. At last he decided 
 upon a compromise : he would not cash that 
 second cheque for the present, at all events ; 
 he would reserve it for an emergency, and 
 only use it if he was absolutely driven to do so 
 as a mental tonic. Perhaps Soj)hia would not 
 compel him to such a necessity again ; he 
 hoped — at least he tlioiiglit she would not. 
 
 So he put the unpresented cheque in an in- 
 ner pocket, and set to work with desperate 
 energy at his examination-paper ; although 
 his recent change must have proved less stimu- 
 lating to his jaded faculties than he had hoped, 
 since Sophia, after reading his answers, made 
 the cutting remark that she scarcely knew 
 which he had more completely failed to 
 apprehend — the purport of his author, or 
 that of the very simple questions she had 
 set him. 
 
 Peter could not help thinking, rather rue-
 
 dottrmalin's i^irst dieqne. 47 
 
 fully, that Miss Tyrrell Avould never have 
 been capable of such severity as that ; but, 
 then, Miss Tyrrell was not his fiancee^ only 
 a very dear friend, whom he would, most proba- 
 bly, never meet again.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE SECOND CHEQUE. 
 
 Furnishing. — A Cosy Corner. — ^'■Sitting Out." — Fresh 
 Discoveries. — Twice a Hero. — Bewilderment and 
 Bathos. 
 
 The knowledge tliat one has a remedy witli- 
 in reach is often as effectual as the remedy it- 
 self, if Hot more so ; which may account for 
 the fact that, although a considerable number 
 of weeks had elapsed since Peter Tourmalin 
 had dra^vn his second cheque on the Anglo- 
 Australian Joint Stock Time Bank, that cheque 
 still remained unpresented. 
 
 The day fixed for his wedding with Sophia 
 was drawing near ; the flat in the Marylebone 
 Road, which was to be the scene of their joint 
 fehcity, had to be furnished, and this occupied 
 most of his time. Sophia took the entire busi- 
 ness upon herself, for she had scientific theo-
 
 (S;i]C Seconb €l)cque. 49 
 
 ries on the subject of decoration and color liar- 
 monies which Peter could only accept with 
 admiring awe ; but, nevertheless, she required 
 him to be constantly at hand, so that she could 
 consult him after her own mind had been ir- 
 revocably made up. 
 
 One February afternoon he was wandering 
 rather disconsolately about the labyrinthine 
 passages of one of the monster upholstery es- 
 tablishments in the Tottenham Court Road, his 
 chief object being to evade the courtesies of 
 the numerous assistants as they anxiously in- 
 quired what they might have the pleasure of 
 showing him. He and Sophia had been there 
 since midday; and she had sat in judgment 
 upon carpets which were brought out, plung- 
 ing like unbroken colts, by panting foremen, 
 and unrolled before her in a blinding riot of 
 color, Peter had only to express the mildest 
 commendation of any carpet to seal that car- 
 pet's doom instantly ; so that he soon abstained 
 from personal interference. 
 
 ISTow Sophia was in the ironmongery de- 
 partment, choosing kitchen utensils, and his 
 opinion being naturally of no value on such 
 matters, he was free to roam wherever he 
 4
 
 50 ©ourmalin's (J^imc €l)cqnes. 
 
 pleased within the hinits of the building. He 
 felt tired and rather faint, for he had had no 
 lunch ; and presently he came to a series of 
 show-rooms fitted up as rooms in various styles : 
 there was one inviting-looking interior, with 
 an elaborate chimneypiece which had cosy 
 cushioned nooks on either side of the fireplace, 
 and into one of these corners he sank with 
 heartfelt gratitude ; for it was a comfortable 
 seat, and he had not sat down for hours. But 
 as his weariness wore away, he felt the wa7it 
 of something to occupy his mind, and searched 
 in his pockets to see if he had any letters 
 there — even notes of congratulation upon his 
 approaching marriage would be better than 
 nothing in his present reduced condition. But 
 he had left all his correspondence at his cham- 
 bers. The only document he came upon was 
 the identical time cheque he had drawn long 
 ago : it was creased and rumpled ; but none the 
 less negotiable, if he could find a clock. And 
 on the built-up chimneypiece there was a clock, 
 a small Juience affair surmounted by a Japanese 
 monster in peacock-blue. Moreover, by some 
 chance, this clock was actually going — he could 
 hear it ticking as he sat there. Should he pre-
 
 Ql\)C Scconb €l)cqnc. 51 
 
 sent his cheque or not ; lie was feeling a little 
 aggrieved at Sophia's treatment of him, she had 
 snubbed him so unmercifully over the carpets ; 
 it was pleasant to think that, if he chose, he 
 could transport himself that very instant to 
 the society of a sweet and appreciative com- 
 panion from whom snubbing was the last 
 thing to be apprehended. 
 
 Yes ; Sophia's treatment quite justified him 
 in making an exception to the rule he had laid 
 down for himself — he would present that 
 cheque. And he rose softly from his seat and 
 pushed the cheque under the little time- 
 piece. . . . 
 
 As before, his draft was honored immedi- 
 ately ; he found himself on a steamer-chair in 
 a sheltered passage between two of the deck- 
 cabins. It was night, and he could not clearly 
 distinguish any objects around him for some 
 little time, owing to the darkness ; but from a 
 glimmer of white drapery that was faintly 
 visible close by, he easily inferred that there 
 was another chair adjoining his, which could 
 only be occupied by Miss Tyrrell. He could 
 just hear the ship's band playing a waltz at 
 the further end of the ship ; it was one of the
 
 52 STourmalin's STimc (fHiequcs. 
 
 evenings when there had been dancing, and he 
 and Miss Tyrrell were sitting out together. 
 
 All this he realized instantly, and not with- 
 out a thrill of interest and expectation, which, 
 however, the first words she uttered were suffi- 
 cient to reduce to the most prosaic perplexity. 
 
 " What have I said ? " she was moaning, in 
 a voice hardly recognizable from emotion and 
 the fleecy wrap in which her face was muffled 
 — " oh ! what have I said ? " 
 
 Peter was naturally powerless to afford her 
 any information on tliis point, even if she 
 really required it; he made a rapid mental 
 note to the effect that their intimacy had e\'i- 
 dently made great progress since their last in- 
 terview. 
 
 " I'm afraid," he said, deciding that candor 
 was his only course, " I can't exactly tell you 
 what you did say ; for, as a matter of fact, I 
 didn't quite catch it." 
 
 " Ah ! you say that to spare me," she mur- 
 mured ; " you must have heard ; but, promise 
 me you will forget it ? " 
 
 "Willingly," said Peter, with the greatest 
 readiness to oblige ; " I will consider it forgot- 
 ten."
 
 a;i)e Bcconb (!ri)cqne. 53 
 
 " If I conld but hope tliat ! " she said. 
 " And, yet," she added recklessly, " why should 
 I care what I say ? " 
 
 " To be sure," agreed Tourmalin at random, 
 "why should you, you know?" 
 
 " You must have seen from the first that I 
 was very far from being happy ? " 
 
 " I must confess," said Peter, with the air of 
 a man whom nothing escaped, " that I did ob- 
 serve that." 
 
 " And you were right ! Was it unnatural 
 that I should be nothing but grateful to the 
 chance which first brought us together ? " 
 
 " Not at all," said Peter, delighted to feel 
 himself on solid ground again ; " indeed, if I 
 may speak for myself, I have even greater 
 reason to feel grateful to that monkey." 
 
 " To ^vhat monkey ? " she exclaimed. 
 
 " Why, naturally, my dear Miss Tyrrell, to 
 the animal which was the unconscious instru- 
 ment in making us acquainted. You surely 
 can not have forgotten already that it was a 
 monkey ? " 
 
 She half rose with an impetuous movement, 
 the mantilla fell from her face, and even in 
 the faint starlight, he could perceive that, beau-
 
 54 Scurmalin's (ZCimc (!ll)eque0. 
 
 tiful as that face nndouljtedly was, it was as 
 certainly not the face of Miss Tyrrell ! 
 
 " T^ou seem to have forgotten a great deal," 
 she retorted, with a suppressed sob in her 
 voice, " or you would at least remember that 
 my name is Davenport. Why you should 
 choose to call me Miss Tyrrell, whom I don't 
 even know by sight, I can't conceive ! " 
 
 Here was a discovery, and a startling one ! 
 It appeared that he had not merely one, but 
 two dear friends on board this P. and O. 
 steamer ; and the second seemed, if possible, 
 even dearer than the first! He must have 
 made the very most of those extra hours ! 
 
 There was one comfort, however. Miss Dav- 
 enport did not, contrary to his impression, 
 know Miss Tyrrell ; so that they need not 
 necessarily clash — still, it was undeniably awk- 
 ward. He had to get out of his mistake as 
 well as he could, which was but lamely. 
 
 " "Why, of course,^'' he protested, " I know 
 you are Miss Davenport. Most stupid of me 
 to address you as Miss Tyrrell ! The — the 
 only explanation I can offer is, that before I 
 had the pleasure of speaking to you, I was 
 under the impression that your proper name
 
 ®l)e Scconb (Eljcque. 55 
 
 was Tyrrell, and so it slipped out again just 
 then from habit." 
 
 This — though the literal, if not the moral, 
 truth — did not seem to satisfy her entirely. 
 
 " That may be so," she said, curtly ; " still 
 it does not explain why you should address 
 me as Miss Anybody, after asking and re- 
 ceiving permission, only last night, to call me 
 by my Christian name ! " 
 
 Obviously their relations were even closer 
 than he had imagined. He had no idea they 
 had got as far as Christian names already, 
 any more than he had of what hers might hap- 
 pen to be. 
 
 There was a painful want of method in the 
 manner this Time Bank conducted its business, 
 as he could not help remarking to himself ; 
 however, Peter, perhaps, from the very ti- 
 midity in his character, developed unexpected 
 adroitness in a situation of some difficulty. 
 
 " So you did ! " he said. " You allowed 
 me to call you by your — er — Christian name ; 
 but I value such a privilege too highly to use 
 it — er — indiscriminately." 
 
 " You are very strange to-night ! " she said, 
 with a plaintive and almost childish quiver of
 
 56 Stourmalin's ®imc dlimncs. 
 
 the lip. " First you call me ' Miss Tyrrell ' 
 and then ' Miss Davenport,' and then you will 
 have it that we were introduced by a monkey ! 
 As if I should ever allow a monkey to intro- 
 duce anybody to me ! Is saving a girl's life 
 such an ordinary event with you, that you 
 forget all about such a trifle % " 
 
 This last sentence compensated Peter for all 
 that had gone before. Here was a peison 
 whose life he really had saved ; and his heart 
 warmed to her from that moment. Rescuins: 
 a girl from imminent bodily peril was a more 
 heroic achievement than capturing the most 
 mischievous of monkeys ; and, besides, he felt 
 it was far more in his style. So it was in 
 his best manner he repHed to her question : 
 
 '' It would be strange, indeed," he said re- 
 proachfully, " If I could ever f oi*get that I was 
 the hmnble means of preserving you from — 
 from a watery grave " — (he risked the epithet, 
 concluding that on a voyage it could hardly be 
 any other descriiDtion of grave ; and she did 
 not challenge it, so he continued) — " a watery 
 grave ; but I had hoped you would appreciate 
 the motive which restrained me from — er — 
 seeming to dwell upon such a circumstance."
 
 ®l)e Scconb (tljcqnc. 57 
 
 This appeal, unprincipled as it was, subdued 
 her instantly. 
 
 " Oh, forgive me ! " she said, putting out her 
 hand with the prettiest penitence. " I might 
 have known you better than that. I didn't 
 mean it. Please say you forgive me, and — and 
 call me Maud again ! " 
 
 Relief at being supplied with a missing 
 clew made Peter reckless ; indeed, it is to be 
 feared that demoralization had already set in ; 
 he took the hand she gave him, and it did 
 not occur to him to let it go immediately. 
 
 " Maud, then," he said obediently ; " I for- 
 give you, Maud." 
 
 It was a prettier name to pronounce than 
 Sophia. 
 
 " How curious it is," she was saying, dream- 
 ily, as she nestled comfortably in her chair be- 
 side him, " that, up to the very moment when 
 yon rushed forward that day, I scarcely gave 
 your existence a thought! And now — how 
 little we ever know what is going to happen to 
 us, do we ? " 
 
 [" Or what has happened, for that mat- 
 ter ! " he thought.] This time he would not 
 commit himself to details until he could learn
 
 58 StoitrntflUn's ®imc €l)eqttC6. 
 
 more about the precise nature of his dauntless 
 act, which he at once proceeded to do. 
 
 "I should very much like to know," he 
 suggested, " what your sensations were at that 
 critical moment." 
 
 " My sensations ? I hardly know," she said, 
 "I remember leaning over the — bulwarks, is 
 it ? " (Peter said it was bulwarks) — " the bul- 
 warks, watching a sailor in a little balcony be- 
 low, who was doing something with a long 
 line—" 
 
 " Heaving the lead," said Peter ; " so he 
 was — go on ! " 
 
 He was intensely excited ; it was all plain 
 enough : she had lost her balance and fallen 
 overboard ; he had plunged in, and gallantly 
 kept her above water till help arrived. He 
 had always known he was capable of this sort 
 of thing ; now he had proved it, 
 
 " — When all at once," she continued, "I 
 felt myself roughly dragged back by somebody 
 — that was you ! I was rather angry for the 
 moment, for it did seem quite a liberty for a 
 total stranger to take,— when, that very in- 
 stant, I saw the line with a great heavy lump 
 of lead at the end of it whirled round exactly
 
 ®l)c Scronb Qllicqnc. 59 
 
 where my head had been, and then I knew 
 that I owed my life to your j)i'Gsence of 
 mind ! " 
 
 Peter was more than disappointed — he was 
 positively disgusted at this exceedingly tame 
 conclusion ; it did seem hard that, even under 
 conditions when any act of daring might have 
 been possible to him, he could do nothing 
 more brilliant than this. It was really worse 
 than the monkey business ! 
 
 " I'm afraid you make too much of the 
 very little I did," he said. 
 
 "Do I? Perhaps that is because if you 
 had not done it, we should never come to know 
 one another as we do ! " (So far, it was a very 
 one-sided sort of knowledge, Peter thought.) 
 "And yet," she added, with a long-drawn 
 sigh, " I sometimes think that we should 
 both be happier if we never had known one 
 another ; if you had stood aside, and the lead 
 had struck me and I had died ! " 
 
 " ISTo, no ! " said Peter, unfeignedly alarmed 
 at this morbid reflection, " you mustn't take 
 such a gloomy view of it as all that, you 
 know! " 
 
 "Why not?" she said, in a somber tone.
 
 60 STourtnalin's ©ime Clieques. 
 
 " It is gloomy — how gloomy I know better 
 than you ! " (" She might well do that," 
 thought Tourmalin.) "Why did I not see 
 that I was slowly, imperceptibly drifting — 
 drifting ? " 
 
 " Well," said Peter, with a levity he was far 
 from feeling, " if the drifting was impercepti- 
 ble, you naturally woiddnH see it, you know ! " 
 
 " You might have spared a joke at such a 
 time as this ! " she cried, indignantly. 
 
 " I — I wasn't aware there was a close time for 
 jokes," he said, humbly ; " not that it was 
 much of a joke ! " 
 
 " Indeed it was not," she replied. " But 
 oh, Peter, now we have both drifted ! " " Have 
 we ? " he exclaimed, blankly. " I — I mean — 
 haveiiH we ! " 
 
 "I was so blind — so willfully, foolishly 
 blind ! I told myself we were friends ! " 
 
 " Surely Ave are ? " he said retaking posses- 
 sion of her hand ; he had entirely forgotten 
 Sophia in the ironmongery department, at 
 Tottenham Court Road. " I — I understood we 
 were on that footing ? " 
 
 " ]^o," she said, " let us have no subterfuges 
 any more — we must look facts in the face.
 
 ®l)e Seconb (fll)cquc. Gl 
 
 After what we have both said to-night, we 
 can no longer deceiv^e ourselves by words. 
 . . . Peter," she broke off suddenly, " I am 
 going to ask you a question, and on your an- 
 swer my fate — and yours too, perhaps — will 
 depend ! Tell me truthfully . . ." Her voice 
 failed her for the moment, as she bent over 
 toward him, and clutched his arm tightly in 
 her excitement; her eyes shone with a wild, 
 intense eagerness for his reply. ..." Would 
 you — " she repeated . . . 
 
 " Would you have the bottle-jack all brass, 
 or japanned ? The brass ones are a shilling 
 more." 
 
 Peter gave a violent start, for the voice in 
 which this most incongruous and irrelevant 
 question was put was that of Sophia ! 
 
 Miss Davenport with her hysterical appeal, 
 the steamer-chairs, and the starlight, all had 
 fled, and he stood, supporting himself limply 
 by the arm of the chimney-nook in the uphol- 
 sterer's showroom, staring at Sophia, who 
 stood there, sedate and practical, inviting his 
 attention to a couple of bottle-jacks which an 
 assistant was displaying with an obsequious 
 smile : the transition was rather an abrupt one.
 
 62 ©ourmaiin's ®ime €l)cqites. 
 
 " Oil, I tliink the brass one is very nice," 
 lie stammered, feebly enoiigli. 
 
 " Then that settles it," remarked Sophia ; 
 "we'll take the ja_panned one, please," she said 
 to the assistant. 
 
 " Aren't you feeling well, Peter dear ? " 
 she asked presently, in an undertone. " You 
 look so odd ! " 
 
 " Quite well," he said ; " I — ah ! — was think- 
 ing of something else for the moment, and 
 you startled me, that's all." 
 
 "You had such a far-away expression in 
 your eyes," said Sophia, " and you did jump 
 so when I spoke to you ; you should really 
 try to conquer that tendency to let yourself 
 wander, Peter." 
 
 " I will, my love," he said ; and he meant 
 it, for he had let himseK wander farther than 
 he quite intended.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE THIRD CHEQUE. 
 
 Good Resolutions. — Casuistry. — A Farewell Visit. — 
 Small Profit and a Quick Return. 
 
 As tlie reader may imagine, this second ex- 
 perience had an effect upon Peter that was 
 rather deterrent than encouraging. 
 
 It was a painful piece of self-revelation to 
 find that, had he chosen to avail himself of 
 the extra hours on board the Boomerang as 
 they occurred, he would have so employed them 
 as to place himself in relations of considerable 
 ambiguity toward two distinct young ladies. 
 How far he was committed to either, or both, 
 he could not tell ; but he had an uneasy sus- 
 picion that neither of them would have been 
 quite so emotional had he conducted himself 
 with the same prudence that had marked his
 
 64 STottrmalin's Simc dTlieqnes. 
 
 behavior tlirouglioiit the time which he was 
 able to account for. 
 
 And yet his conscience acquitted him of 
 any actual default ; if he had ever really had 
 any passages at all approaching the sentimental 
 with either Miss Tyrrell or Miss Davenport, 
 his mind could hardly be so utterly blank on 
 the subject as it certainly was. No ; at the 
 worst, Ins failings were only potential pecca- 
 dilloes, the kind of weaknesses he might have 
 given way to if he had not wisely postjjoned 
 the hours in which the occasions were afforded. 
 
 lie had had a warning, a practical moral les- 
 son which had merely arrived, as such things 
 often do, ratlier after date. 
 
 But, so far as it was possible to profit by it, 
 he would : at least, he would abstain from 
 making any further inroads upon the balance 
 of extra time which still remained to his credit 
 at the bank ; he would draw no further cheques ; 
 he would return to that P. and O. steamer no 
 more. For an engaged man whose wedding- 
 day was approaching by leaps and bounds, it 
 was, however innocent, too disturbing and ex- 
 citing a form of distraction to be quite safely 
 indulged in.
 
 ®l)c Sliirb €\)C(\nc. 65 
 
 The resolution cost liim something, never- 
 theless. Peter was not a man who had hither- 
 to been spoiled by feminine adoration. Sophia 
 was fond of him, but she never affected to 
 place him upon any sort of pinnacle ; on the 
 contrary, she looked down npon him protect- 
 inglj and indulgently from a moral and intel- 
 lectual pedestal of her own. He had not ob- 
 jected to this, in fact he rather liked it, but 
 it was less gratifying and stimulating to his 
 self-esteem than the romantic and idealizing 
 sentiments which he had seemingly inspired 
 in two exceedingly bewitching young persons 
 with whom he felt so much in sympathy. It 
 was an agreeable return from the bread-and- 
 butter of engaged life to the petUs fours of 
 semi-flirtation. After all, Peter was but hu- 
 man, and a man is seldom esteemed for being 
 otherwise. He could not help a natural regret 
 at having to abandon experiences which, judg- 
 ing from the fragmentary samples he had ob- 
 tained, promised so much and such varied in- 
 terest. That the interest was not consecutive, 
 only made it the more amusing — it was a living 
 puzzle-picture, the pieces of which he could fit 
 together as he received them. It was tantaliz- 
 6
 
 66 S^ourntfllin's ®imc djerjues. 
 
 ing to look at his cheque-book and feel that 
 upon its leaves the rest of the story was writ- 
 ten, but that he must never seek to decipher 
 it : it became so tantalizing, that he locked 
 the cheque-book up at last. 
 
 But already some of the edge had worn off 
 his resolution, and he had begun to see only 
 the more seductive side of interviews which 
 at the time, had not been free from difficulty 
 and embarrassment. Having put himself be- 
 yond the reach of temptation, he naturally 
 began to cast about for some excuse for again 
 exposing himself to it. 
 
 It was the eve of his wedding-day ; he was 
 in his chambers for the last time and alone, 
 for he would not see Sophia again until he met 
 her in bridal array at the church door, and he 
 had no bachelor friends whom he cared to in- 
 vite to help him to keep up his spirits. 
 
 Peter was horribly restless and nervous ; he 
 needed a sedative of some kind, and even try- 
 ing on his wedding garments failed to soothe 
 him, as he felt almost certain there was a 
 wrinkle between the shoulders, and it was too 
 late to have it altered. 
 
 The idea of one more visit to the Boomer-
 
 ®l)e a:i)iri> €l)eqtte. 67 
 
 ang — one more interview, the last, with one 
 or other of his amiable and fascinating friends 
 — it did not matter very much which — pre- 
 sented itself in a more and more attractive 
 light. If it did nothing else, it would provide 
 him with something to think about for the 
 rest of the evening. 
 
 "Was it courteous, was it even right, to drop 
 his friends without the slightest apology or 
 explanation? Ought he not, as a gentleman 
 and a man of honor, to go back and bid them 
 " Good-by % " Peter, after carefully consider- 
 ing the point, discovered that it was clearly 
 his duty to perform this trifling act of civihty. 
 
 As soon as he had settled that, he got out 
 his cheque-book from the dispatch-box, in which 
 he had placed it for his own security, and, sit- 
 ting down just as he was, drew another fifteen 
 minutes, and cashed them, like the first, at the 
 ormolu clock. . . . 
 
 This time he found himself sitting on a 
 cushioned bench in the music-room of the 
 Boomerang. It was shortly after sunset, as 
 he could tell from the bar of dusky crimson 
 against the violet sea, which, framed in the 
 ports opposite, rose and sank with each roll of
 
 68 ®0urmaUn's ®ime QIl)cqucs. 
 
 tlie ship. There was a swell on, and she 
 rolled more than he conld have wished. 
 
 As he expected, he was not alone ; but, as 
 he had not expected, his companion was neither 
 Miss Tyrrell nor Miss Davenport, but a grim 
 and portly matron, who was eyeing him with 
 a look of strong disfavor, which made Peter 
 wish he had not come. " What," he won- 
 dered, " was he in for now ? " His uneasiness 
 was increased as he glanced down upon his 
 trousers, which, being new and of a delicate 
 lavender tint, reminded him that in his impa- 
 tience he had come away in his wedding gar- 
 ments. He feared that he must present rather 
 an odd appearance on board ship in this festal 
 attire ; but there he would have to stay for 
 the next quarter of an hour, and he must make 
 the best of it. 
 
 " I repeat, Mr. Tourmahn," said the matron, 
 "you are doubtless not unprepared for the 
 fact that I have requested a few minutes' 
 private conversation with you ? " 
 
 "Pardon me," said Peter, quaking already 
 at this alarming opening, " but I am — very 
 much unprepared." " Surely," he thought, 
 " this could not be another dear friend ? No,
 
 that was too absurd — he must have drawn the 
 line somewhere ! " 
 
 " Then permit me to enhghten you," she 
 said raspingly. " I sent for you at a time 
 when we are least likely to be interrupted, to 
 demand an explanation from you upon a very 
 delicate and painful matter which has recently 
 come to my knowledge." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Peter — and nothing more. He 
 guessed her purpose at once ; she was going to 
 ask him his intentions with regard to her 
 daughter ! He could have wished for some 
 indication as to whether she was Lady Tyrrell 
 or Mrs. Davenport; but, as he had none at 
 present, " Oh " seemed the safest remark to 
 make. 
 
 " Life on board a large passenger-ship, Mr. 
 Tourmalin," she went on to observe, " though 
 relaxed in some respects, is still not without 
 decencies which a gentleman is bound to re- 
 spect." 
 
 " Quite so," said Peter, unable to discover 
 the bearings which lay in the application of 
 this particular observation. 
 
 " You say ' Quite so ' ; but what has your 
 hehavior been, sir ? "
 
 70 Sourmaiin's SCimc €l)cqtic0. 
 
 " That," said Peter, " is exactly wliat I 
 sliould like to know myself ! " 
 
 " A true gentleman would have considered 
 the responsibility he incurred by giving cur- 
 rency to idle and malicious gossip ! " 
 
 His apprehensions were correct then : it was 
 one of the young ladies' mothers — but which f 
 
 " I can only assure you, madam," he began, 
 " that if unhappily I have — er — been the means 
 of furnishing gossip, it has been entirely unin- 
 tentional." 
 
 She seemed so much molhfied by this, that 
 he proceeded with more confidence : 
 
 " As to anything I may have said to your 
 daughter — " when she almost bounded from 
 her seat with fury. 
 
 " My daughter^ sir ! Do you mean to sit 
 there and tell me that you had the audacity to 
 so much as hint of such a thing to my daugh- 
 ter, of all people % " 
 
 " So — so much depends on who your daugh- 
 ter is ! " said Peter, comj)letely losing his 
 head. 
 
 " You dared to strike this cruel and un- 
 manly blow at the self-respect of a sensitive 
 girl — to poison her defenseless ears with your
 
 ®l)e ^[)ixh ari)cqtie. 71 
 
 false, dastardly insinuations — and you can actu- 
 ally admit it ? " 
 
 " I don't know whether I can admit it 
 or not yet," he replied. " And — and you do 
 put things so very strongly ! It is like this : 
 if you are referring to any conversation I may 
 have had with Miss Tyrrell — " 
 
 " Miss Tyrrell ? You have told her too ! " 
 exclaimed this terrible old matron, thereby 
 demonstrating that, at least, she was not Lady 
 Tyrrell. 
 
 "T — I should have said Miss Davenport," 
 said Peter, correcting himself precipitately. 
 
 " Miss Davenport as well ? Upon my word ! 
 And pray, sir, may I ask liow many other 
 ladies on board this ship are in possession of 
 your amiable confidences ? " 
 
 He raised his hands in utter despair. 
 
 " I can't say," he groaned. " I don't really 
 know what I may have said, or whom I may 
 have said it to ! I — I seem to have done so 
 much in my spare time, but I never meant 
 anything ! " 
 
 " It may be so," she said ; " indeed, you 
 hardly seem to me accountable for your ac- 
 tions, or you would not appear in such a ridicu-
 
 72 dCottrmalin'o (Z^ime (!ri)equcs. 
 
 lous costume as that, witli a sprig of orange- 
 blossom in your button-liole and a high hat, 
 too ! " 
 
 " I quite feel," said Peter, blushing, " that 
 such a costume must strike you as inappropri- 
 ate ; but — but I happened to be trying them 
 on, and — rather than keep you waiting — " 
 
 " Well, well, sir, never mind your costume 
 — the question is, if you are genuinely anxious 
 to repair the wrong you have done, what 
 course do you propose to take ? " 
 
 " I will be perfectly frank with you, mad- 
 am," said Peter : " I am not in a position to 
 repair any wrong I have done — if I have done 
 any -wrong (which I don't admit) — by taking 
 any course whatever ! " 
 
 " You are not ! " she cried. " And you tell 
 me so to my face % " 
 
 After all, reflected Peter, why should he be 
 afraid of this old lady? In a few more min- 
 utes he would be many hundreds of miles 
 away, and he would take very good care not 
 to come back again. He felt master of the 
 situation, and determined to brazen it out. 
 
 " I do, madam ! " he said, crossing his legs 
 in an easy fashion. " Look at it from a rea-
 
 ai;i)c a:i)irb €l)cquc. 73 
 
 sonable point of view. There is safety iu num- 
 bers ; and if I have been so unfortunate as to 
 give several young ladies here an entirely er- 
 roneous impression, I must leave it to you to 
 undeceive them as considerately but distinctly 
 as you can. For me to make any selection 
 would only create ill-feeling among the rest ; 
 and their own good sense will show them 
 that I am forbidden by the laws of my coun- 
 try, which I am the last person to set at defi- 
 ance — ^that I am forbidden (even if I were 
 free in other respects, which I am not) to 
 marry them all ! " 
 
 " The only possible explanation of your con- 
 duct is, that you are not in your right mind ! " 
 she said. " Who in the world spoke or dreamed 
 of your marrying any one of them ? Certainly 
 not/./" 
 
 " Oh ! " said Peter, hopelessly fogged once 
 more. " I thought I might unintentionally 
 have given them grounds for some such ex- 
 pectation. I'm very glad I was mistaken. 
 You see, you must really make allowances for 
 my utter ignorance." 
 
 " If this idiotic behavior is not a mere feint, 
 sir, I can make allowances for much ; but,
 
 74 Stourmalin's QLimc €l)cquc0. 
 
 surely, you are at least sufficiently in your 
 proper senses to see how abominably you have 
 behaved?" 
 
 " Have I ? " said Peter, submissively. " I 
 don't wish to contradict you, if you say so, 
 I'm sure. And, as I have some reason to 
 believe that my stay on board this ship 
 will not last very much longer, I should 
 like before I go to express my very sincere 
 regret." 
 
 " There is an easy way of proving your 
 sincerity, sir, if you choose to avail yourself of 
 it," she said. " I find it very difficult to be- 
 lieve, from the evident feebleness of your in- 
 tellect, that you can be the person chielly 
 responsible for this scandal. Am I correct in 
 my supposition ? " 
 
 " You are, madam," said Peter. " I should 
 never have got myself into such a tangle as 
 this, if I had not been talked over by Mr. 
 Perkins. I don't know if I can succeed in 
 making myself clear, for the whole business 
 is rather complicated ; but I can try to ex- 
 plain it, if you will only have a little pa- 
 tience." 
 
 " You have said quite enough," she said.
 
 " I know all I wish to know now. So it was 
 Mr. Perkins who has been using you as his in- 
 strument, was it ? " 
 
 "Certainly," said Peter ; " but for him, 
 nothing of this would have happened." 
 
 " You will have no objection to repeating 
 that statement, should I call upon you to 
 do so ? " 
 
 " No," said Peter, who observed with pleas- 
 ure that her wrath ag-ainst himself was almost 
 entirely moderated ; " but you will have to 
 call soon^ or I shall have gone. I — I don't 
 know if I shall have another opportunity of 
 meeting Mr. Perkins ; but if I did, I should 
 certainly tell him that I do not consider he has 
 treated me quite fairly. He has put me in 
 what I may call a false position, in several 
 false positions ; and if I had had the knowl- 
 edge I have now, I should have had nothing 
 to do with him from the first. He entirely 
 misled me over this business ! " 
 
 " Yery well, sir," she said ; " you have 
 shown a more gentlemanly spirit, on the whole, 
 than I expected. I am glad to find that your 
 evil has been wrought more by want of thought 
 than heart. It will be for you to complete
 
 76 Sourmalin's dCime €l)cqties. 
 
 your reparation when the proper time arrives. 
 In the mean time, let tliis be a warning to you, 
 sir, never to — " . . . 
 
 But here Peter made the sudden discovery 
 that he was no longer in the music-room of 
 the Boomerang, but at home in his old easy- 
 chair by his bachelor fireside. 
 
 " Phew ! " he muttered to himself, " that 
 was a bad quarter of an hour while it lasted ! 
 What an old she-dragon it was! But she's 
 right — it is a warning to me. I mustn't — I 
 really must not draw any more of these con- 
 founded time cheques. I've made that ship 
 too hot to hold me already ! I'd better remain 
 forever in contented ignorance of how I spent 
 that extra time, than to go on getting into one 
 mess after another like this ! It was a wonder 
 I got out of this one as well as I did ; but evi- 
 dently that old woman knew what Perkins is, 
 and saw / wasn't to blame. IS'ow she'll ex- 
 plain the whole affair to all those girls (who- 
 ever they may be), and pitch into Perkins — 
 and serve him right ! Prn out of it, at any 
 rate ; and now, thank goodness, after to-morrow 
 I shall have nothing to do but live contentedly 
 and happily with dearest Sophia ! I'd better
 
 ®l)e ®l)irb €:l)cqtic. 
 
 burn this beastly clieque-book — I sliall never 
 want it again ! " 
 
 It would have been well for Peter if he had 
 burned that cheque-book ; but when it came to 
 the point, he could not bring himself to destroy 
 it. After all, it was an interesting soxwenir 
 of some very curious, if not unique, experi- 
 ences ; and, as such, he decided to preserve it.
 
 CHAPTER lY. 
 
 THE FOURTH CHEQUE. 
 
 A Blue Moon. — Felicity in a Flat. — Practical Astrono- 
 my. — Temptation and a Relapse. — The Difficulties of 
 being Completely Candid. — A Slight Misunderstand- 
 ing. — The Avenging Orange. 
 
 Peter Tourmalin enjoyed liis lioneymoon 
 extremely, in a calm, sober, and rational man- 
 ner. Sophia discouraged rapture ; but, on the 
 other hand, no one was better fitted to inspire 
 and sustain an intelligent interest in the won- 
 ders of Geology ; and, catching her scientific 
 enthusiasm, Peter spent many happy hours 
 with her along the cliffs, searching for fossil 
 remains. In fact, the only cloud that threat- 
 ened to mar their felicity at all was an unfortu- 
 nate tendency on his part to confuse a trilobite 
 with a graptolite, a blunder for which Sophia 
 had no tolerance. He was hazy about his
 
 a;i)e i^ourtl) (iL\)cqnc. 79 
 
 periods, too, until she sent up to town for 
 Lyell's great work on the subject as a birth- 
 day surprise for him, and he read it aloud to 
 her on the sands. Altogether, it was a peace- 
 ful, happy time. 
 
 And never once in the whole course of his 
 honeymoon did he seriously entertain the pos- 
 sibility of making any further use of his book 
 of blank Time Cheques. If he had contem- 
 plated it, no harm would have been done, how- 
 ever, as the book was lying among his neglected 
 papers at his former chambers. 
 
 He felt no poignant regret when the month 
 came to an end, and they returned to town to 
 take possession of their Marylebone flat: for 
 what was it but shifting the scene of their 
 happiness? And after this had taken place, 
 Peter was still too much occupied to have leis- 
 ure for idle and mischievous thoughts. Mar- 
 rying Soj)hia was, indeed, like loving Sir Eich- 
 ard Steele's fair lady, " a liberal education ; " 
 and Peter enjoyed the undivided benefit of her 
 rare talent for instruction. 
 
 He had been giving his attention to As- 
 tronomy of late, an unguarded remark of his 
 having betrayed to Sopliia the extreme crudity
 
 80 STottrmalin's ®imc €l)cqncs. 
 
 of his ideas respecting that science, and she 
 had insisted upon his getting a popular primer, 
 with diagrams, and mastering it as a prehmi- 
 nary to deeper study. 
 
 One evening he was in the smaller room of 
 the two that, divided by an arch, served for 
 study and drawing-room combined; and he 
 was busily engaged in working out a simple 
 practical illustration, by the aid of one of the 
 aforesaid diagrams. The experiment required 
 a lamp, a ball of cotton, and an orange trans- 
 fixed by a knitting-needle, and it had some- 
 thing to do with the succession of the seasons, 
 solar and lunar eclipses, and the varying lengths 
 of day and night on different portions of our 
 globe, though he was not very clear what. 
 
 " Don't you find you understand the inclina- 
 tion of the moon's orbit to the plane of the 
 ecliptic better now ? " said Sophia, as she came 
 through the arch. 
 
 " I think I shall, as soon as I can get the 
 moon to keep steadier," he said, with more 
 hope than he felt ; " and it's rather hard to re- 
 member whereabouts I am supposed to be on 
 this orange." 
 
 " I must get you some tiling to make that
 
 a:i)c iTonrtl) (illjcquc. 81 
 
 clearer," she said ; " and you haven't tilted 
 the orange nearly enough. But leave it for a 
 moment; I've brought you in this packet of 
 letters and things the people at your old rooms 
 have just sent down. I wish, while I am 
 away — I shall be back in a minute — you would 
 just run over them, and tell me if there are 
 any papers you want kept, or if they may all be 
 burned." 
 
 While she was gone, he undid the string 
 which fastened the packet, and found, at the 
 bottom of a mass of bills and documents of no 
 value, the small oblong cheque-book which he 
 had vowed never to see again. Somehow, as 
 liis eyes rested on its green cover, the old long- 
 ing came upon him for a comi^lete change of 
 air and scene. He felt as if he must get away 
 from that orange : there were no lamps but 
 electric lights, and no oranges, on board the 
 Boomerang. 
 
 But then, his last visit had not turned out a 
 success : what if he were to find he had drawn 
 another quarter of an hour with that irate ma- 
 tron of the music-room ? 
 
 However, he had left her, as he remembered, 
 in a comparatively pacific mood. She under-
 
 82 (JTonrmalin's ©imc Cl)eqne0. 
 
 stood liini better now ; and besides, thanks to 
 the highly erratic system (if there was any sys- 
 tem) on which the payments were made, the 
 chances were immensely against his coming 
 across the same old lady twice running. He 
 thought he would risk that. 
 
 It was much more likely that he would 
 meet Miss Tyrrell or Miss Davenport, or it 
 might even be another person to whom he was 
 unconsciously allied by the bond of dear friend- 
 ship. The only question was, how far he 
 could trust himself in such companionship. 
 But here he felt himself guilty of a self -distrust 
 that was unworthy of him. If, on the two 
 previous occasions, he could not call to mind 
 that he had entertained any deeper sentiment 
 for either young lady than a cordial and 
 sympathetic interest, was it likely that, now he 
 was a married man, he would be more suscepti- 
 ble ? He was as devoted to his Sophia as ever, 
 but the wear and tear of several successive 
 evenings spent in elementary Astronomy were 
 telling upon his constitution. Such high think- 
 ing did not agree with him ; he wanted a 
 plainer mental diet for a change. Fifteen min- 
 utes spent in the society of some one with a
 
 ®1)C iTourtli Cheque. 83 
 
 mind rather less cultivated than his wife's 
 would be very restful. Then, when he came 
 back, he would give his whole mind to the 
 orange again. 
 
 In short, all Peter's good resolutions were 
 thrown overboard once more, and he wrote 
 out a cheque for the usual amount in desperate 
 fear lest Sophia might return before he could 
 get it honored. He felt a certain compunc- 
 tion, even then, in presenting it to the severe 
 and intensely respectable black marble time- 
 piece which recorded the flying hours of his 
 domestic bliss. He almost doubted whether it 
 would countenance so irregular a proceeding ; 
 but, although it was on the verge of striking 
 nine, it cashed the cheque without hesita- 
 tion. . . . 
 
 It was midday : Peter was sitting on a fold- 
 ing seat, protected from the scorching sun by 
 the awning which was stretched above and 
 along the exposed side of the deck ; and, to his 
 great satisfaction, he found Miss Tyrrell re- 
 clining in a deck chair between himself and the 
 railing, and a pleasant picture of fresh and 
 graceful girlhood she presented. 
 
 As usual, he was not in time for the begin-
 
 84 QTourmalin's QLimc QII)eqncs. 
 
 ning of the conversation, for she was evidently 
 commenting upon something he had said. 
 
 " How delightful it sounds," she was saying, 
 " and what a free, unfettered kind of life 
 yours must be, Mr. Tourmalin, from your de- 
 scription ! " 
 
 Now, this was awkward ; because he must 
 have been giving her an airy description of 
 his existence as the bachelor and butterfly he 
 had ceased to be. He answered guardedly, 
 awaiting his opportunity to lead up to a dis- 
 closure of the change in his circumstances since 
 they had last met. 
 
 " It is pleasant enough," he said. " A little 
 dull at times, perhaps," he added, thinking of 
 the orange. 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Oh, you mustn't expect me to pity you ! " 
 she said. " I don't believe you need ever be 
 dull, unless you choose. There must always 
 be friends who are glad to see you." 
 
 "I am glad to think," said Peter, "that, 
 when I do feel dull, I have at least one friend 
 — one dear friend — from whom I may count 
 ui^on a welcome ! " 
 
 He accompanied this speech with such a
 
 tl\)c f^onrtl) (fll}cqne. 85 
 
 look, that she could not well pretend to mis- 
 take his meaning ; and the next moment he re- 
 gretted it, for he saw he had gone too far. 
 
 " That is a very pretty speech," she said, with 
 a faint flush ; " but isn't it a little premature, 
 Mr. Tourmalin, considering that we have scarce- 
 ly known one another two days ! " 
 
 For the moment, Peter had forgotten the 
 want of consecutiveness in these eccentric 
 Time-Cheques. This interview should by rights 
 have preceded the first he had had with her. 
 He felt annoyed with himself, and still more 
 with the un business-like behavior of the Bank. 
 
 " I — I was anticipating, perhaps," he said. 
 " But I assure you that we shall certainly he 
 friends — I may even go so far as to say, dear 
 friends — sooner or later. You see if I am not 
 right ! " 
 
 Miss Tyrrell smiled. 
 
 " Are yoii sure," she said, with her eyes 
 denmrely lowered — are you sure that there is 
 nobody who might object to our being on 
 quite such intimate terms as that ? " 
 
 Peter started. Could she possibly have 
 guessed, and how much did she know ? 
 
 " There could be nothing for anybody to ob-
 
 86 Sonrmfllin's ®ime ^Ijeqnes. 
 
 ject to," he said. " Are you — er — referring 
 to any person in particular ? " 
 
 She still kept her eyes down, but then she 
 was occupied just at the moment in removing 
 a loose splinter of bamboo from the arm of her 
 chair. 
 
 " You mustn't think me curious or — or in- 
 discreet, if I tell you," she said ; " but before 
 I knew you to speak to, I — I couldn't help 
 noticing how often, as you sat on deck, you 
 used to pull something out of your pocket 
 and look at it." 
 
 " My watch ? " suggested Peter, feeling un- 
 comfortable. 
 
 " No, not your watch ; it looked more like 
 — well, like a photograph." 
 
 " It may have been a photograph, now you 
 mention it," he admitted. " Wellj Miss Tyr- 
 rell?" 
 
 " Well," she said, " I often amuse myself 
 by making up stories about people I meet — 
 quite strangers, I mean. And, do you know, 
 I made up my mind that that photograph was 
 the portrait of some one — some lady you are 
 eng-ased to. I should so much like to know 
 if I was right or not ? "
 
 )e lonxtl) €l)cqnc. 87 
 
 Here was Peter's opportunity of revealing 
 his real status, and preventing all chance of 
 future misunderstanding. It was not too late ; 
 but still it might be best and kindest to break 
 the news gradually. 
 
 " You were partly right and partly wrong," 
 he said : " that was the portrait of a lady I 
 was — er — o?ice engaged to." 
 
 Unless Peter was very much mistaken, there 
 was a new light in her face, an added bright, 
 ness in her soft gray eyes as she raised them 
 for an instant before resuming her labors 
 upon the wicker-chair. 
 
 " Then you mean," she said softly, " that the 
 engagement is broken oft'?" 
 
 Peter began to recognize that explanation 
 was a less simple affair than it had seemed. If 
 he said that he was no longer engaged but 
 married to the original of that photograph, 
 she would naturally want to know why he had 
 just led her to believe, as he must have done, 
 that he was still a careless and unattached 
 bachelor ; she would ask when and where he 
 was married ; and how could he give a straight- 
 forward and satisfactory answer to such ques- 
 tions ?
 
 Sourmalin's ®imc Clieqnes. 
 
 And then another side of the case struck 
 him. As a matter of fact he was undeniably 
 married ; but would he be strictly correct in 
 describing himself as being so in this particu- 
 lar interview f It belonged properly to the 
 time he had made the voyage home, and he 
 was certainly not married then. 
 
 In the difficulty he was in he thought it 
 best to go on telling the truth until it became 
 absolutely impossible, and then fall back on 
 invention. 
 
 " The fact is, Miss Tyrrell," he said, " that 
 I can't be absolutely certain whether the en- 
 gagement is ended or not at this precise mo- 
 ment." 
 
 Her face was alive with the sweetest sympa- 
 thy. 
 
 " Poor Mr. Tourmalin ! " she said, " how 
 horribly anxious you must be to get back and 
 know ! " 
 
 " Ah ! " said Peter, " yes, I — I shall know 
 ■when I get home, I suppose." 
 
 And he sighed ; for the orange recurred 
 once more to his reluctant memory. 
 
 " Don't tell me if it pains you too much," 
 she said gently. " I only ask because I do feel
 
 Q[\)e iFourtI) €lKqtie. 89 
 
 so sorry for you. Do you tliink that, when 
 you do get home, you will find her married ? " 
 
 " I have every reason for believing so," he 
 said. 
 
 " That will be a terrible blow for you, of 
 course ? " 
 
 " A blow ? " said Peter, forgetting himself. 
 " Good gracious me, no ! "Wliy should it be ? 
 I — I mean, I shall be prepared for it, don't 
 you know ? " 
 
 " Then it's not so bad, after all ? " she said. 
 
 " It's not at all bad ! " said Peter, with a 
 vague intention of loyalty to Sophia. " I like 
 it!" 
 
 " I think I understand," she said slowly : 
 " you will not be sorry to find she has mar- 
 ried ; but she may tell you that she never had 
 the least intention of letting you go so easily ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Peter, " she may tell me that, 
 certainly — (" if she finds out where I've been," 
 he added, mentally.) 
 
 " And," she continued, " what would you do 
 then?" 
 
 " I suppose," he said — " I suppose I should 
 have to do whatever she wished." 
 
 " Yes ! " she agreed warmly, " you ivill do
 
 90 dTottrmalin's Sime (iri)cq«e0. 
 
 that, even if it costs you something, won't 
 you? Because it will be the only right, the 
 only honorable course to take — you will be the 
 happier for it in the end, Mr. Tourmalin, I 
 am sure you will ! " 
 
 After all, it seemed to him that she must 
 understand about the Time Cheques — or, why 
 should she urge him to give them up if Sophia 
 demanded such a sacrifice ? 
 
 " No, I shall not," he said ; " I shall miss 
 these times terribly. You don't know what 
 they are to me, or you wouldn't speak like 
 that!" 
 
 " Mr. Tourmalin ! " she cried, " I — I must 
 not listen to you ! You can't possibly mean 
 what you seem to mean. It is wrong — wrong 
 to me, and wrong to her — to say things that — 
 that, for all you know, you are not free to say ! 
 Don't let me think badly of you ! " 
 
 Peter was absolutely horrified ! Wliat had 
 he said to agitate her like that? He had 
 merely meant to express the pleasure he found 
 in these brief and stolen visits to the Boom- 
 erang ', and she had misconstrued him like 
 this ! At all hazards, he must explain now, if 
 it took him days to make it clear.
 
 ®l)e i^ourtl) (tijcque. 91 
 
 " My dear Miss Tyrrell," lie protested earn- 
 estly, " you quite misunderstood me — you did 
 indeed ! Pray be calm, and I will endeavor 
 to make my position a little clearer than I'm 
 afraid I have done. The worst of it is," he 
 added, " that the whole thing has got into 
 such a muddle that, for the life of me, I can't 
 exactly make out what my position is at the 
 present moment ! " 
 
 " You can if you will only recollect that you 
 are this mourning-pin," said a familiar voice ; 
 and, "with the abruptness characteristic of the 
 Time Cheque system, he was back in his study, 
 staring at the ground glass globe of the lamp 
 and the transfixed orange. The clock behind 
 him was striking nine, and Sophia was offer- 
 ing him a pin Avith a big black head. 
 
 " Oh ! am I the mourning-pin ? " he re- 
 peated, helplessly. 
 
 " Keally, Peter," said Sophia, " I think the 
 pin just at this moment, has the more intelli- 
 gent expression of the two. Do try to look 
 a little less idiotic ! ISTow, see ; you stick the 
 pin into the orange to represent your point 
 of view, and then keep on twirling it slowly 
 round."
 
 92 STourmalin's STime (!II)cqttes. 
 
 So Peter twirled the orange slowly round 
 for the remainder of the evening, though his 
 thoughts were far away with Miss Tyrrell. 
 He w^as wondering what she could have thought 
 of him, and, worse still, what she would think 
 if she could see him as he was employed at that 
 moment ? 
 
 " I tell you what we must do, Peter — 
 when you get a little more advanced," said 
 Sophia, enthusiastically, that evening, "we 
 must see if we can't pick up a small second- 
 hand orrery somewhere — it would be so nice 
 to have one ! " 
 
 " Oh, delightful ! " he said absently. 
 
 He was not very clear as to what an orrery 
 was, unless it was the dusty machine that was 
 worked with handles at sundry Assembly- 
 room lectures he had attended in early youth. 
 But of one thing he felt grimly certain — that 
 it was something which would render it neces- 
 sary to draw more Time Cheques !
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PERIODIC DRAWINGS. 
 
 A Series of Cheques: their Advantages and Drawbacks. 
 — All Unknown Factor. — Uncompleted Confidences. — 
 Ibsen, u'ith Intervals. — A Disappointment. — A ^'^ Search 
 Question''' from Sophia. — Confidence restored. 
 
 Whether it was natural sin on Peter's part, 
 or an excusable spirit of revolt against the oj)- 
 pression of an orrery wliicli Sophia succeeded 
 in picking up a great bargain at an auction 
 somewhere, liis drafts on the Anglo-Austra- 
 lian Time Bank did not end with the one re- 
 corded in the preceding chapter. 
 
 And, which was more discredital:»le still, he 
 no longer pretended to himself that he meant 
 to stop until his balance was completely ex- 
 hausted. His only care now was to economize, 
 to regulate his expenditure by spreading his 
 drawings over as long a period as possi-
 
 94 Sonrmalin's ®imc (Elieqncs. 
 
 ble. With this object he made a careful 
 calculation, and found there were still sev- 
 eral hours to his credit; whereupon, lest he 
 should yield to the temptation of drawing 
 too much at any one time, he made out a num- 
 ber of cheques for fifteen minutes apiece, and 
 limited himself to one a week — an allowance 
 which, even under the severest provocation, 
 he rarely permitted himself to exceed. 
 
 These weekly excursions, short as they were, 
 were a source of the greatest comfort to him, 
 especially now that he had thro\vTi off any idea 
 of moral responsibility. 
 
 By degrees he possessed himseK of most of 
 the back-numbers, if they may be so termed, 
 of his dual romance. At one time, he found 
 himself being presented by the grateful Sir 
 "William to his daughter ; and now that he 
 knew what service he had rendered the Judge, 
 he was less at sea than he would certainly have 
 been otherwise. Another time, he discovered 
 himself in tlie act of dragging Miss Davenport 
 unceremoniously back from the bulwarks ; iDut 
 here again his memory furnished him with the 
 proper excuse for conduct which, considering 
 that he was not supposed to be acquainted with
 
 IJeriobic IDratDinge. 95 
 
 her, he might have found it difficult to account 
 for satisfactorily. So, after all, there did seem 
 to be a sort of method in the operation of the 
 Time Cheques, arbitrary as it appeared. 
 
 One fact that went far to reconcile him to 
 his own conscience was the circumstance that, 
 though the relations he stood in toward both 
 young ladies varied at each interview with the 
 most bewildering uncertainty, so that one week 
 he would be upon the closest and most confi- 
 dential terms, and the next be thrown back 
 into the conventional formality of a first in- 
 troduction — these relations never again ap- 
 proached the dangerous level of sentiment 
 which had so alarmed him. 
 
 He flattered himself that the judicious atti- 
 tude he was adopting to both was correcting 
 the false impressions which might have — and 
 for that matter actually had — been given. 
 
 He was always pleased to see them again, 
 whichever one it was ; they were simply 
 charming friends — frank, natural, unaffected 
 girls — and not too clever. Sometimes, indeed, 
 he recognized, and did his best to discourage, 
 symptoms of a dawning tenderness on their part 
 which it was not in his power to reciprocate.
 
 96 ®onrmalin's ®imc (E\i)cc\ncs. 
 
 Peter was in no danger of losing his heart to 
 either ; possibly the attractions of each serv^ed 
 as a conductor to protect him from the influ- 
 ence of the other. He enjoyed their society, 
 their evident appreciation of all he said and 
 did, but that was all ; and as they recognized 
 that there could be no closer bond than that of 
 cordial friendship between them, he was re- 
 lieved of all misgi^angs. 
 
 Surely it was a blameless and legitimate 
 manner, even for a married man, of spending 
 the idle moments which belonged properly to 
 the days of his bachelorhood ! Still, he did 
 not confide this harmless secret of his to So- 
 phia ; he might tell her when it was all over, 
 but not so long as her disapproval could affect 
 his plans. And he had an instinct that such 
 a story as he had to tell would fail to appeal 
 to a person of her accurately logical habit of 
 mind. 
 
 So, on one occasion when he discovered 
 that he had lost one of the loose cheques he 
 now carried constantly about with him, it was 
 with a feeling very like panic that he reflected 
 that he might have dropped it about the house, 
 where its unusual form would inevitably pro-
 
 Pcriobic lUratDinjgs. 97 
 
 vote Sophia's ciiriositj ; and he was much re- 
 assured when he was able to conclude, from the 
 fact that she made no reference to it, that he 
 must have lost it out of doors. 
 
 It must have been some time after this before 
 his serenity again met with a slight shock : he 
 was walking up and down the deck with Miss 
 Davenport — it happened to be one of the days 
 when he knew her very well indeed. 
 
 " Sometimes," she was saying, " I feel as if I 
 Tnust speak to somebody ! " 
 
 " You know where you will always find a 
 very willing listener ! " he said, with a kind of 
 fatherly floweriness that he felt sat well upon 
 him. 
 
 "I didn't mean you," she said — "to some 
 girl of my own age, I meant." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Peter, " well, that's a very natural 
 feeling, I'm sure. I can quite understand it ! " 
 
 " Then you wouldn't mind — you wouldn't 
 be angry if I did ? " she said, looking up at 
 him with her great childishly serious eyes. 
 
 " My dear child," said Peter, getting more 
 fatherly every moment, " how could I possibly 
 object to your speaking to any lady on board 
 if you want to ? " 
 1
 
 98 Sottrtnalin's ®ime €l)cqtic0. 
 
 He would have liked to make one or two 
 exceptions perhaps ; but he thought he had 
 better not. 
 
 " I am so glad," she said, " because I did — 
 this very morning. I did so want some one 
 to advise me — to tell me what a girl ought to 
 do, what she would do herself in my place." 
 
 " Ah ! " said Peter, sympathetically, " it is — 
 er — a difficult position for you, no doubt." 
 
 " And for you, too ! " she said quickly ; "re- 
 member that," 
 
 " And for me, too^ of course," said Peter, as- 
 senting, as he always did now from habit, to 
 anything he did not understand at the mo- 
 ment. " My position might be described as 
 one of — er — difficulty, certainly. And so you 
 asked advice about yours, eh ? " 
 
 " I couldn't very well help myself," she said. 
 " There was a girl, a little older than I am, per- 
 haps, sitting next to me on deck, and she men- 
 tioned your name, and somehow — I hardly 
 know how it came about — but she seemed so 
 kind, and so interested in it all, that — that I 
 believe I told her everything. . . . You 
 aren't angry with me, are you, Peter % " 
 
 She had been making a confidante of Miss
 
 periodic JDrawinga. 99 
 
 Tyrrell ! It was awkward, extremely awkward 
 and annoying, if, as he began to fear, her con- 
 lidences were of a tender character. 
 
 " I — I am not exactly angry," he said ; " but 
 I do think you might be more careful whom 
 you speak to. What did you tell her ? " 
 
 '"All ! " she said, with the same little quiver 
 in her underlip he had noticed before. 
 
 " That is no answer," said Peter (it certainly 
 was none for him). " Tell me what you said 1 " 
 
 " I — I told her about you, and about me . . . 
 and — and about him ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " said Peter, " about me, and you, and 
 him ? Well, and — and how did she take it ? " 
 
 " She didn't say very much ; she turned very 
 pale. It was rather rough at the time, and I 
 don't think she can be a very good sailor ; for 
 before I had even finished she got up and went 
 below, and I haven't seen her since." 
 
 " But you told her about ' him ' ? " he per- 
 sisted ; " and when you say ' him,' I presume 
 you refer to — " ? 
 
 Here he paused expectantly. 
 
 " Of course ! " she answered, with a touch of 
 impatience. "Whom else should I be likely 
 to refer to ? "
 
 100 SCottrmalin's STimc ®l)cqnc0. 
 
 " It's excessively absurd ! " said Peter, driven 
 to candor at last. "■ I — I remember perfectly 
 that you did mention all the circumstances at 
 the time ; but I've a shocking memory for 
 names, and, just for the minute, I — I find it 
 difficult to recall where ' he ' comes in exactly. 
 Curious, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Curious ? " she said, passionately ; " it's 
 ahominable ! " 
 
 " It is," agreed Peter ; " I quite admit that 
 I ought to know — only, 1 donH.''^ 
 
 " This is cruel, unmanly ! " she said, broken- 
 ly. " How could you forget — how can you 
 insult me hy pr'etending that you could forget 
 such a tiling as that ? It is odious of you to 
 make a — a joke of it all, when you know per- 
 fectly well that—" 
 
 " My — my dear young lady ! " he declared, 
 as she left her speech unfinished, " I am as far 
 from any disposition to be jocular as ever I 
 was in my life. Let me beg you to be a little 
 more explicit. "We seem to have got into a 
 trifling misunderstanding, which, I am sure, a 
 little patience will easily put right." . . . 
 
 " Put right ? " said Sophia, behind him. 
 " I was not aware, Peter, that the clock
 
 |)criobic tUratnings. 101 
 
 was out of order. What is tlie matter with 
 it ? " 
 
 He almost staggered back from the chimney- 
 piece, upon which he had found himself lean- 
 ing in an attitude of earnest persuasion. 
 
 " I — I was only thinking, my love," he said, 
 " that it wanted regulating." 
 
 " If it does," said Sopliia, " you are hardly 
 the proper person to do it Peter. The less 
 you meddle with it the better, I should 
 think ! " 
 
 " Perhaps so, my dear Sophia, perhaps so ! " 
 said Peter, sitting down Avith the utmost do- 
 cility. 
 
 He had narrowly escaped exciting suspicion. 
 It was fortunate that there was nothing com- 
 promising in the few words she had overheard, 
 but he must not allow himself to be caught so 
 near the clock again. 
 
 He was not a little disturbed by the tenor of 
 this last interview. It was bad enough that in 
 some way he seemed to have seriously dis- 
 pleased Miss Davenport ; but, besides that, he 
 could not contemplate without uneasiness the 
 probable effect which her confidences, what- 
 ever their exact purport, might have upon
 
 102 STottrtnolin's (Jinte (Iljcqtjes. 
 
 Miss Tjrrell. For liitlierto he had seen no 
 necessity to mention to one young lady that he 
 was even distantly acquainted with the other. 
 As he never by any chance drew them both to- 
 gether, there seemed no object in volunteering 
 such information. 
 
 But this only made him more apprehensive 
 of a scene when his next turn with Miss Tyr- 
 rell arrived. Perhaps, he thought, it would be 
 wiser to keep away from the Boomerang for a 
 week or two, and give them all time to calm 
 down a little. 
 
 However, he had the moral, or rather the 
 immoral, courage to present a check as usual 
 at the end of the next week, with results that 
 were even less in accordance with his anticipa- 
 tions than before. 
 
 It came about in this way. He was com- 
 fortably seated by the fireplace opposite Sophia 
 in a cosy, domesticated fashion, and was read- 
 ing to her aloud ; for he had been let off the 
 orrery that evening. The book he was reading 
 by Sophia's particular request was Ibsen's 
 DoWs House, and it was not the fault of the 
 subject (which interested her deeply), but of 
 Peter's elocution, which was poor, that, on
 
 Periobic lUratDings. 103 
 
 glancing from the text, he found that she 
 had sunk into a profound and peaceful slum- 
 ber. 
 
 It was a chance he had been waiting for all 
 day. He was rather tired of Nora, with her 
 innocence and her macaroons, her tarantella 
 and her taradiddles, her forgery and her fancy 
 dress, and he had the cheque by him in readi- 
 ness ; so he stole on tiptoe to the mantelpiece, 
 slipped the paper under the clock, and was just 
 in time to sink back into his easy-chair before 
 it turned out to be one of the revolving-seats 
 in the dining-saloon on the Boomerang. 
 
 There was a tumbler of whisky-and-seltzer 
 on the table in front of him, and he was sitting 
 in close confabulation with his former acquaint- 
 ance, Mr. Perkins, the bank manager. 
 
 " That's precisely what I don't know, sir, 
 and what I'm determined to find out ! " were 
 the first words he heard from the latter gentle- 
 man, who looked flushed and angry. " But 
 it's a scandalous thing, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Yery," said Peter, rather bored and deeply 
 disappointed ; for the manager was but an in- 
 different substitute for the companion he had 
 been counting upon. " Oh, very ! "
 
 104 gTcnrmaiin's ®imc Cljequcs. 
 
 " Have you liappened to hear anything said 
 about it yourself ? " inquired his friend. 
 
 " ISTot a word ! " said Peter, with the veracity 
 he always endeavored to maintain on these oc- 
 casions. 
 
 " To go and shift a statement of that kind 
 on to my shoulders like that, it's like the fel- 
 low's confounded impudence ! " 
 
 For the moment Peter felt a twinge ; could 
 the other be referring to anything he had said 
 himself in the music-room ? But the manager 
 was evidently not angry with Jiim, so it must 
 be some other fellow. Only Peter decided not 
 to allude to the faulty working of the time 
 cheques, as he had half intended to do. Perkins 
 was not in the mood for remonstrances just then. 
 
 " Most impudent, I must say," he replied. 
 " By the way," he added carelessly, " what was 
 the statement exactly ? " 
 
 " Why, God bless my soul, sir ! " cried the 
 manager, with unnecessary vehemence," haven't 
 I been telling you the whole story? Didn't 
 you just ask me who the fellow was who has 
 brought me into this business ? " 
 
 " So I did," said Peter, " and — and who was 
 he?"
 
 |)erioMc UDratDings. 105 
 
 " Your attention seems very wandering this 
 evening! Why, I told you the old woman 
 wouldn't give me bis name." 
 
 Peter's alarm returned at this allusion to an 
 old woman ; what old woman could it be but 
 the terrible matron whom he had encountered 
 in the music-room ? However, it was fortunate 
 that she had not mentioned any names ; if Per- 
 kins knew that he had put all the blame of his 
 entanglements upon the manager's broad shoul- 
 ders, he would certainly consider it an ungrate- 
 ful return for what was intended as a kindness. 
 
 " So you said before," he remarked ; " some 
 old women are so obstinate ! " 
 
 " Obstinate ? That's the first sensible remark 
 you've made for a long while ! " said his candid 
 friend. " I should think she was obstinate ! 
 "Wliy, I talked myself hoarse trying to make 
 that old harridan believe that I was as innocent 
 as an unborn babe of any responsibility for this 
 precious scandal — that I'd never so much as 
 heard it breathed till she told me of it ; but it 
 wasn't any good, sir ; she would have it that I 
 was the originator ! " 
 
 (" So you were ! " thought Peter, though he 
 prudently refrained from saying so.)
 
 106 STourmolin's ®imc <tl)eqnes. 
 
 " She's going to kick up the dooce's own 
 dehght as soon as she meets her brother ; and 
 all I could get her to say was that then, and 
 not till then, she would give me an opportunity 
 of having it out with the cowardly villain, 
 whoever he may he, that has dared to lay all 
 this gossip at my door ! " 
 
 Peter did not quarrel with this arrange- 
 ment of the old lady's, for he would certainly 
 not be on board the Boomerang when she ar- 
 rived at Plymouth, 
 
 " Ah ! " he said, with as much interest as 
 he could display in a subject that did not con- 
 cern him, " he'll find that unpleasant, I dare 
 say." 
 
 " I think he will ! " said Mr. Perkins, em- 
 phatically. " Unless he retracts his infamous 
 calumny. I — I'll kick him from one end of 
 the ship to the other ! " 
 
 Involuntarily Peter's eyes sought his 
 friend's boots, which, as he sat in a corner 
 seat with his feet extended, were much in evi- 
 dence ; they were strong, suitable boots, stouter 
 than those generally worn on a sea-voyage, 
 and Peter could not repress a slight shudder. 
 
 " From one end of the ship to the other,"
 
 periodic iDramngs. 107 
 
 he repeated ; " that — that's rather a long 
 way ! " 
 
 " Quite long enough for hhn , though not 
 nearly long enough for me ! " said the JMana- 
 ger. " I'll teach him to mix me up in these 
 squabbles, when I find him, sir — when I find 
 him! Here, steward, bring some more of 
 these dry biscuits ; you'll have some more, 
 won't you ? " 
 
 But Peter was not in the vein for dry 
 biscuits at that moment, and the Manager con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " By-the-by, you might help me in this if 
 you only will. I want to find out if I can 
 before we reach Gib, who this fellow is, but 
 the less I talk about the affair the better." 
 
 "Oh! yes," said Peter. " I— I wouldn't 
 talk about it at all, if I were you." 
 
 " No. I dare say you're right — can't be 
 too careful with an old cat like that. Well, 
 what I want you to do is to try and find out 
 — quietly, you know — who this infernal fellow 
 is!" 
 
 " Well, I dare say I could do that," said 
 Peter. 
 
 "No one would think a mild, innocent-
 
 108 STonrmalin's ®imc (iL\)eqncB. 
 
 looking little cliap like you had any particular 
 motive for asking : you might ask some of 
 the men in the smoking-room, and pick up 
 some clew or other." 
 
 " So I might," said Peter, — " good idea ! " 
 
 " Or, I'll tell you what — you might pump 
 the old lady for me, eh ? " 
 
 " I don't think I quite care about pumping 
 the old lady," said Peter, " but anything else 
 I'll do with pleasure." 
 
 " Thanks," said the Manager, " that's a 
 good fellow. I knew I could depend upon 
 you ! " 
 
 " Ton can," replied Peter, " though, I 
 fancy," he added, soothingly — " indeed, I am 
 sure you will find that the old woman has 
 made a good deal out of nothing at all." . . . 
 
 " W7iat old woman, Peter ? " asked Sophia 
 whith drowsy asperity. " Not Mrs. Linden, 
 surely ! " 
 
 Mrs. Linden ! "Was that the name of the 
 old she-dragon of the music-room ? Why, of 
 course not; he was in his arm-chair by his 
 own fire, reading Ibsen to his wife ! 
 
 " I don't know, indeed, my love — it may 
 be Mrs. Linden," he answered cautiously.
 
 Pcriobic IJUrowings. 109 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said Sophia, crossly. " She's 
 not meant to be old in the play, and who says 
 ' the old woman has made a good deal ont of 
 nothing % ' Helmer, or Doctor Rank, or Krog- 
 stad, or who ? You do read so badly, it's 
 quite impossible to make out ! " 
 
 " No one says it, my dear Sophia ; at least, 
 it's not in my edition of the text. You — you 
 must have imagined it, I think ! " 
 
 "I certainly thought I heard you read it 
 out," she replied ; " but your voice is so mo- 
 notonous, that it's just possible I dropped off 
 for a minute or two." 
 
 " I dropped off myself about the same 
 time," he confessed hypocritically. 
 
 " You wouldn't drop off, or allow me to 
 drop off either, Peter," said Sophia, who was 
 now thoroughly awake again, "if you felt a 
 more intelligent interest in the tremendous 
 problem Ibsen has set in this play. I don't 
 believe you realize in the least M'hat the les- 
 son is that he means to teach ; now do you, 
 Peter?" 
 
 " Well, I'm not sure that I do altogether, my 
 love," he admitted. 
 
 "I thought as much! "What Ibsen insists
 
 110 Sonrmalin's ®inte Cljeqties. 
 
 upon is, the absolute necessity of one-ness be- 
 tween man and wife, Peter. They must belong 
 to each other, complete each other — they must 
 be Twin Souls. Are you a Twin Soul, Peter ? " 
 
 " Upon my word, my dear, I can't say ! " he 
 repHed, in some perplexity. In the present 
 very divided state of his sympathies, he could 
 not help thinking that his Soul was more like 
 a Triplet. 
 
 " But think," persisted Sophia, earnestly : 
 " have you shared all your Past with me ? Is 
 there nothing you have kept back — no feel- 
 ings, no experiences, which you confine to 
 your own bosom ? When you left me to take 
 that voyage, you promised that nothing should 
 induce you to be more than civil to any woman, 
 however young and attractive, with whom Fate 
 might bring you in contact. I want you to tell 
 me, Peter, whether, when you were returning 
 home on board the Boomerang, you kept that 
 promise or not ? " 
 
 Fortunately for him, she put her question 
 in a form which made it easy to give a satis- 
 factory and a truthful answer. 
 
 " When I was returning home on board the 
 Boomerang,^'' he said, " I did not, to the best of
 
 IPcriobic SIlratDings. Ill 
 
 my recollection and belief, exchange two words 
 with any female whatever, attractive or other- 
 wise — until," he added, with a timely recollec- 
 tion that she had come on board at Gibraltar — 
 "until I met you. You pain me with these 
 suspicions, Sophia — you do, indeed ! " 
 
 " I believe you, Peter," she said, moved by 
 his sincerity, which, paradoxical as it may 
 sound, was quite real ; for his intentions had 
 been so excellent throughout, that he felt in- 
 jured by her doubts. " You have never told 
 me a falsehood yet ; but for some time I have 
 been tormented by a fancy that you were con- 
 cealing something from me. I can hardly say 
 what gave me such an im^^ression — a glance, 
 a tone, trifles which, I am glad to think now, 
 had not the importance I invested them with. 
 Ah, Peter, never treat me as Helmer did Nora ! 
 Never shut me out from the serious side of 
 your life, and think to make amends by calling 
 me your ' little lark,' or your ' squirrel ; ' you 
 nmst not look upon me as a mere doll ! " 
 
 " My dear Sophia ! " he exclaimed, " I should 
 never think of addressing you as either a squirrel 
 or a lark ; and any one less like a doll in every 
 respect I never met ! "
 
 113 Sonrmalin's ®ime dljeqnes. 
 
 " I hope you will always think so, Peter," 
 she said ; " for I tell you frankly, that if I 
 once discovered that you had ceased to trust 
 me, that you lived in a world apart into which 
 I was not admitted, that very moment, Pe- 
 ter, I should act just as I^ora did — I should 
 leave you ; for our marriage would have 
 ceased to be one in any true sense of the 
 word ! " 
 
 The mere idea of being abandoned by So- 
 phia made him shiver. What a risk he had 
 been running, after all 1 Was it worth while 
 to peril his domestic happiness for the sake 
 of a few more conversations with two young 
 ladies, whose remarks were mostly enigmatic, 
 and for whom he was conscious in his heart 
 of hearts of not caring two straws ? 
 
 " Sophia," he said plaintively, " don't talk 
 of lea\dng me! What should I do without 
 you? Who would teach me Astronomy and 
 things ? You knoio I don't care for anybody 
 but you! Why will you dwell on such un- 
 pleasant subjects ? " 
 
 " I was wrong, Peter," she confessed — " in- 
 deed, I doubt you no longer. It was all my 
 morbid imagination that led me to do you
 
 Periobic tUrntxiinigs. 113 
 
 such injustice. Forgive me, and let us t^aj no 
 more about it ! " 
 
 " I do forgive you," was his generous reply 
 to this appeal, which, coming from Soj)hia, 
 was a very handsome apology, " and we will 
 say no more about it." 
 
 And, upon the whole, Peter thought he had 
 got out of a particularly tight place with more 
 credit than he had any reason to expect — a con- 
 clusion in which the reader, however much he 
 or she may disapprove of his conduct on moral 
 grounds, \vill probably be inclined to agree with 
 him.
 
 CHAPTER YL 
 
 FOIL AND COUNTERFOIL. 
 
 The Duties of Authorship, — Peter's Continued Perversity 
 and its Unforeseen Results. — ^^ Alfred.'''' — The Tragic 
 Note. — An Interrupted Crisis. — A Domestic Surprise. 
 
 It Avould be more satisfactory to an author's 
 feelings, especially when he is aware that he 
 will be held accountable by an indignant pub- 
 lic for the slightest deviation on his hero's part 
 from the narrow path of ideal rectitude — it 
 would be more satisfactory to be able to record 
 that this latest warning had a permanent effect 
 upon Peter Tourmalin's rather shifty disposi- 
 tion. 
 
 But an author, even of a modest perform- 
 ance such as this, can not but feel himself in a 
 position of grave responsibility. He must re- 
 late such facts as he has been able to collect, 
 without suppression on the one side or distor-
 
 Soil arib (Jlountcrfoil. 115 
 
 tion on tlie other. It is a duty lie can not and 
 dare not evade, under penalty of forfeiting the 
 confidence of his readers. 
 
 Peter Tourmalin did draw more Time 
 Cheques, he did go back to the Boomerang^ 
 and it would be useless to assert the contrary. 
 "We may be able to rehabilitate him to some 
 extent before this story concludes ; at present, 
 we can only follow his career with pain and 
 disapproval. 
 
 Some allowances must be made for the pe- 
 culiar nature of the case. To a person of Pe- 
 ter's natural inclination to the study of j^sy- 
 chology, there was a strong fascination in 
 watching the gradual unfolding and revelation 
 of two characters so opposite and so interest- 
 ing as those of Miss Tyrrell and Miss Daven- 
 port. That was the point of view he took 
 himself, and it is difficult to say that such a 
 plea is wholly without plausibility. 
 
 Then, too, he was intensely curious to know 
 how it would all end, and he might ascertain 
 that in the very next quarter of an horn* he 
 drew ; there was absolutely no telling. 
 
 As for Sophia's threat, that soon lost all 
 terrors for him. She would abandon him, no
 
 116 STottrmalin's ®imc (El)equc0. 
 
 doubt, if she ever knew ; but who was going 
 to tell her, and how could she possibly discover 
 the truth unaided, especially now that her 
 awakening suspicions had been lulled? His 
 secret was perfectly safe, and he could unravel 
 the tangled thread of the history of his remain- 
 ing extra hours on board the Boomerang with- 
 out any other hindrance than that of his own 
 scruples — which practically amounted to no 
 hindrance at all. 
 
 So Peter continued to be the slave of his 
 clock and his cheque-book, from the counter- 
 foils of which he was disagreeably surprised to 
 discover that he had drawn more frequently, 
 and in consequence had an even smaller balance 
 left to his credit than he had supposed. 
 
 However, he consoled himself by concluding 
 that one or two cheques had probably been 
 mislaid, and were still unpresented, while he 
 was entitled to some additional time in respect 
 of compound interest ; so that he need not 
 stint himself at present. Fifteen minutes a 
 week was not an extravagant allowance ; and 
 sooner or later, even with the utmost economy, 
 a day would come when his balance would be 
 exhausted, and his cheques returned from the
 
 i^oil an& Olcuntcrfoii. 117 
 
 clock marked " IS'o effects — refer to drawer," 
 or some equivalent intimation. 
 
 But that day was still distant, and in the mean 
 time he went on drawing with a light heart. 
 
 It was a Saturday evening, the day on which 
 Peter generally presented his weekly cheque ; 
 but, although it was nearly half-past ten, he 
 had had no opportunity of doing so as yet. 
 He was in the drawing-room, and Sophia was 
 readmg aloud to him this time, an article on 
 " Bi-metalism " from one of the reviews ; for she 
 had been an ardent bi-metalist from early girl- 
 hood, and she naturally wished to win Peter 
 from his Laodicean apathy on so momentous a 
 subject. He listened with surface resignation, 
 although inwardly he was in a fever of impa- 
 tience to get back upon the Boomerang, where 
 Miss Davenport had been more interesting than 
 usual on his last visit. But he could hardly 
 rise and slip a cheque under the clock before 
 Sophia's very eyes without inventing some 
 decent pretext for such an action, and bi-metal- 
 ism had reduced him to a mental condition 
 which was no longer fertile in expedients. 
 
 Suddenly Sophia stopped reading and re- 
 marked :
 
 118 STonrmalin's Sintc ClicqttCB. 
 
 " If I remember right, Professor Dibbs 
 has stated the argument more correctly in his 
 httle book on Currency. It would be inter- 
 esting to compare the two ; I'll get it." 
 
 As Professor Dibbs's work was apparently 
 on a shelf in the study, Sophia took the lamp 
 into the further room. 
 
 '• Now's my time ! " thought Peter, as he 
 brought out the cheque from his waistcoat- 
 pocket. " I mayn't get such another chance 
 this evening." 
 
 Even if Sophia could lay her hand on the 
 volume at once, he would have had his quar- 
 ter of an hour and be comfortably back long 
 before she could pass the arch which sepa- 
 rated the two rooms ; for, as we have seen, this 
 instantaneous action was one of the chief rec- 
 ommendations of the Time Cheques, 
 
 So he cashed his cheque, and was at once 
 transported to the secluded passage between 
 the deck-cabins, the identical place where he 
 had first conversed with Miss Davenport. He 
 was on the same steamer-chair, too, and she 
 was at his side ; the wind carried the faint 
 strains of a set of " Lancers " to them ; from 
 aU of which circumstances he drew the infer-
 
 i^oil anb (Honntcrfoil. 119 
 
 ence tliat he was going to be favored with the 
 sequel to the conversation that had been so 
 incongruously broken in upon by Sophia's 
 question respecting the comparative merits of 
 bottle-jacks in the Tottenham Court Road 
 warehouse. This was so far satisfactory, in- 
 dicating as it did that he was at last, after 
 so much trying back, to make some real 
 progress. 
 
 " What I want to know first," Miss Daven- 
 port was saying, " is whether you are capable 
 of facing danger for my sake ? " 
 
 " I thought," he remonstrated mildly, " that 
 I had already given proof of that ! " 
 
 "The danger you faced then threatened 
 only me. But, supposing you had to meet a 
 danger to yourself, could you be firm and 
 cool ? Much will depend on that." 
 
 " I — I think," he answered frankly, " that 
 perhaps you had better not count upon me. 
 I have never been a man to court danger ; it 
 might find me equal to it if it came — or it 
 might not." 
 
 He did not mean to give it the oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 " Then we are lost, that is all ! " she said,
 
 120 ®0itrmalin'0 ®ime Qri)eqtics. 
 
 with gloom J conviction. " Lost, both of 
 us ! " 
 
 Peter certainly intended to be lost if the 
 moment of trial ever arrived. Even now he 
 was resohang, for about the twentieth time 
 that this positively should be his very last 
 cheque ; for he by no means liked the man- 
 ner in which the situation seemed to be de- 
 veloping. 
 
 But, seeing that the danger, whatever it 
 might be, was still far enough off, he thought, 
 very sensibly, that it would be a pity to cloud 
 this last interview by any confession of pusilla- 
 nimity. Knowing that he would return no 
 more, he could surely afford to treat with 
 contempt any consequences his imprudence 
 might have entailed. 
 
 So he laughed, as he said : 
 
 " You musn't conclude that I'm a coward 
 because I don't care to boast. On the con- 
 trary, I believe I am not exactly deficient in 
 physical courage." 
 
 " You are not ? " she cried, relieved. " Then 
 — then you would not be afraid to face a des- 
 perate man ? " 
 
 " Not a dozen desperate men, if it comes to
 
 iToil arib OTountcrfoil. 121 
 
 tliat ! " said Peter, supported by tlie certainty 
 that it would not come to so much as half a 
 desperate man. 
 
 " Then I can tell you nozv what I have 
 scarcely dared to think of before. Peter, you 
 will have to reckon with Alfred ! " 
 
 " Well, I'm not much alarmed at anything 
 Alfred may do ! " said Peter, wondering who 
 the deuce Alfred was. 
 
 " He will come on board ; he will demand 
 an explanation ; he will insist on seeing you ! " 
 she cried. 
 
 "Z<?^ him ! " said Peter. 
 
 " You are brave — braver even than I thought ; 
 but, ah ! Peter, you don't know what Alfred 
 is!" 
 
 Peter did not even know who Alfred was, 
 but he was unmoved. 
 
 " You leave Alfred to me," he said, confi- 
 dently, " I'll settle him I " 
 
 " But I must tell you all. I — I led you to 
 believe that Alfred would raise no objections ; 
 that he would quietly accept facts which it is 
 useless to contend against. He will do nothing 
 of the sort ! He is a man of violent passions 
 — fierce and relentless when wronged. In the
 
 122 dCourmalin s ®ime QIt)eques. 
 
 first burst of fuiy at meeting you, when lie 
 comes on board, he is capable of some terrible 
 vengeance, which nothing but perfect coolness 
 on your part — perhaps not even that — will be 
 able to avert. And I — I have brought this 
 upon you ! " 
 
 " Don't cry," said Peter. " You see, I'm 
 perfectly calm. / don't mind it. If Alfred 
 considers himself wronged by me — though, 
 what I have ever done to give him any reason 
 for revenging himself by personal violence, I 
 must say I can't conceive — " 
 
 She stopped him. 
 
 " Ah ! you have given him cause enough ! " 
 she cried. "What is the use of taking that 
 tone to me ? " 
 
 " I want to see Alfred's point of view, that's 
 all," said Peter. " What does he complain 
 of?" 
 
 " ~Wliat does lie comjylain off Tou ask me 
 that, when — Peter," she broke off suddenly, 
 " there is somebody round the corner Hstening 
 to us — a woman, I'm sure of it. I heard the 
 rustle of a dress. . . . Go and see if there is 
 not!" 
 
 Go and see, and find himself face to face
 
 iToil arib (jlountcrfoil. 123 
 
 with Miss Tyrrell, who might faint or go into 
 hysterics. Peter knew better than that. 
 
 " It's merely your fancy," he said, soothing- 
 ly. " Who can be there ? They are all at the 
 other end of the ship, dancing. Go on telling 
 me about Alfred. I don't yet understand how 
 I have managed to offend him." 
 
 " Are you really so dull," she said, mth a 
 slight touch of temper, " that you can't see 
 that a man who thought he was going to meet 
 the woman he was engaged to, and finds she 
 has learned to care for — for somebody else, is 
 likely, even if he was the mildest man in the 
 world — which Alfred is far from being — to 
 betray some annoyance ? " 
 
 " No, I see that," said Peter ; " but — but he 
 can't blame me. / couldn't help it ! " 
 
 He said this, although her last speech had 
 opened his eyes considerably. He knew now 
 who AKred was, and also that, in some moment 
 of madness which was in one of the quarters 
 of an hour he had not yet drawn, he must have 
 placed himself in the position of Alfred's rival. 
 
 What was he to do ? He could not, without 
 brutality, tell this poor girl that he had not the 
 smallest intention of depriving Alfred of her
 
 124 (ZTonrmaiin's ®ime (E:l)cqttes. 
 
 affections ; it was better, and easier too, to 
 humor her for the sliort time that remained. 
 
 " Alfred will not take that as an excuse," 
 she said. "It is true we could neither of us 
 help what has happened, but that will not alter 
 the fact that he is quite capable of shooting us 
 both the instant he comes on deck. Alfred is 
 like that ! " 
 
 " Well," said Peter, unable to abstain from 
 a little more of such very cheap heroism, " I 
 do not fear death — with you ! " 
 
 " Saj that once more," she said ; which Peter 
 very obligingly did. " Oh, Peter, how I ad- 
 mire you now ! How little I knew you were 
 capable of going so calmly to your doom ! 
 You give me courage. I feel that I, too, can 
 face death ; only not that death — it is so horrid 
 to be shot ! " 
 
 " It would be unpleasant," said Peter, placid- 
 ly, " but soon over." 
 
 " No," she said, " I couldn't bear it. I can 
 see him pointing his revolver — for he always 
 carries one, even at a picnic — first at yotir 
 head, then mine ! !N"o, Peter ; since we must 
 die, I prefer at least to do so without blood- 
 shed!"
 
 i^oil arib (irottntcrfoil. 125 
 
 " So do I," he agreed, " very much." 
 
 " You do ? " she cried. " Then, oh, Peter ! 
 why should we wait any longer for a fate that 
 is inevitable ? Let us do it now, together ! " 
 
 " Do what ? " said Peter. 
 
 " Slip over the side together ; it would be 
 quite easy, no one will see us. Let us plunge 
 arm-in-arm into the merciful sea ! A little 
 struggle — a moment's battle for breath — then 
 all will be over ! " 
 
 " Yes, I suppose it ivoidd be over then " ; 
 he said ; " but we should have to swallow such 
 a lot of salt water first ! " 
 
 He reflected that, even if he emerged from 
 the agonies of drowning, to find himself bi- 
 metalizing with Sophia, the experience would 
 be none the less unpleasant while it lasted. 
 There really must be some limit to his com- 
 plaisance, and he set it at suicide. 
 
 " JS'o," he said ; " I have always held that to 
 escape a difficulty by putting an end to one's 
 own life is a cowardly proceeding.'^ 
 
 " I am a coward," she said ; " but oh, Peter, 
 be a coward with me for once ! " 
 
 " Ask me anything else ! " he said firmly, 
 but not stoop to cowardice. There is really
 
 126 ©onrmalin's Sitne ©Ijcques. 
 
 no necessity for it, you see," lie added, feeling 
 that he had better speak out plainly. " I have 
 no doubt that Alfred will listen to reason ; and 
 when he is told that, although, as is excusable 
 enough witli two natures that have much in 
 common, we — we have found a mutual pleas- 
 ure in each other's society — there has been 
 nothing on either side inconsistent with the — 
 the mo^ ordinary friendship ; when he hears 
 that . . . Wliere are you going ? " for she was 
 rising from her chair. 
 
 " Where am I going ? " she replied, mth an 
 unsteady lawgh. "Why, overboard, if you 
 care to know ! " 
 
 " But you mustn't ! " he cried, scarcely know- 
 ing what he said. " The — the captain wouldn't 
 like it. There's a penalty, I'm sure, for leav- 
 ing the ship while it's in motion — I've seen it 
 on a notice ! " 
 
 " There is a penalty for having believed in 
 you," she replied bitterly, " and I am going to 
 pay it ! " 
 
 She broke away and rushed out upon the 
 deck into the starlight, with Peter in pursuit. 
 Here was a nice result of his philandering, he 
 thought bitterly. And yet, what had he done ?
 
 -foil arib Qlonnterfoil. 127 
 
 How could he help the consequences of follies 
 committed in time he had not even spent yet ? 
 However, what he had to do now was to pre- 
 vent Miss Davenport from leaping overboard 
 at any cost. He would even promise to jump 
 over with her, if that would soothe her, and of 
 course he could appoint some time next day — 
 say, after breakfast for the performance. 
 
 He ran down the shadowy deck until he 
 overtook a fl^'ing female form, whose hand 
 he seized as she crouched against the bul- 
 warks. 
 
 "Miss Davenport, if you will only just 
 ..." he began, when, without warning, he 
 found himself back upon his own hearth-rug, 
 holding Sophia firmly by the wrist ! 
 
 He felt confused, as well he *iight, but he 
 tried to pass it oft". 
 
 " Did you find Dibbs on Currency^ my dear ? " 
 he inquired, with a ghastly smile, as he dro]3ped 
 her hand. 
 
 " I did not," said Sophia, gravely ; " I was 
 otherwise engaged. Peter, what have you been 
 doing ? " 
 
 " What have I been doing ? " he said. 
 " Why, it's not a minute since you went into
 
 128 (ZTourmalin's Sime (fri)equcs. 
 
 the study to get that book ; look at the clock 
 and see ! " 
 
 " Don't appeal to the clock, Peter — answer 
 my question. How have you been occupied ? " 
 
 "I've been waiting for you to finish that 
 article on bi-metalism," he had the hardihood 
 to say. " Deuced well-written article it is, too ; 
 so clear ! " 
 
 " I don't refer to what you were doing here," 
 said Sophia. " What were you doing on board 
 the Boomerang f " 
 
 " It — it's so long ago that I really forget," 
 he said. " I — I read Buckle on deck, and I 
 talked Math a man named Perkins — nice fellow 
 he was — manager of a bank out in Australia." 
 
 " It's useless to prevaricate, Peter ! " she 
 said. " "What I w^ant to know is, who was that 
 girl, and why should she attempt to destroy 
 herself?" 
 
 He could hardly believe his ears. 
 
 " Girl ! " he stammered. " How do you 
 know that any girl attemj)ted anything of that 
 sort ? " 
 
 " How do I know, Peter ? " said Sophia. " I 
 will tell you how I know. / was on hoard the 
 Boomerang too I "
 
 iToil anb Qlounterfoil. 129 
 
 At this awful piece of intelligence, Peter 
 dropped into liis arm-chair, speechless and 
 quaking. What would come next he could 
 not tell ; but anytliing seemed possible, and 
 even probable, after that !
 
 CHAPTER yil. 
 
 THE CULMINATING CHEQUE. 
 
 Sophia gives an Explanation and Requests one. — Her 
 Verdict. — Peter Overruled, 
 
 " Before I say anything else," said Sophia, 
 who was still standing npon the hearth-rug, 
 gazing down upon the wretched Peter as he sat 
 huddled up in his chair, " you would probably 
 like to know how I came to follow you to that 
 ship. It is a long story, but I will tell you if 
 you wish to hear ? " 
 
 Peter's lips moved without producing any 
 articulate sounds, and Sophia proceeded : 
 
 " Some weeks ago," she said, " one afternoon 
 when you had gone out for a walk, I found 
 what seemed to be a loose cheque on the carpet. 
 I knew how carelessly you leave things about, 
 and I picked it up and found that, though it 
 was like a cheque in other respects, it was
 
 ®l]e Cnlminating €l)cque. 131 
 
 rather curiously worded. I could not under- 
 stand it at all, but it seemed to have something 
 to do with the ship you came home from Aus- 
 tralia in ; so, intending to ask you for an ex- 
 planation when you came in, I thought in the 
 mean time I would put it in some safe place 
 where I should be sure to see it, and I put it 
 behind the clock ; and then — oh, Peter ! — " 
 
 Peter understood. The cheques were all 
 payable to " self or bearer." Sophia had inno- 
 cently presented one, and it had been paid. 
 If he had only taken " order " cheques, this 
 would not have happened, but it was too late 
 now ! He continued to imitate the tactics of 
 that eminent strategist. Brer Eabbit ; in other 
 words, he "lay low and said nuffin," while 
 Sophia continued : 
 
 " Then, without in the least knowing how I 
 came there, I found I was on a big steamer, 
 and as I walked along, perfectly bewildered, I 
 saw the name BooTnerang painted on some 
 fire-buckets, and of course I knew then that 
 that was your ship. I fancied that perhaps, 
 in some way, you might be on board too, and 
 would explain how this had happened to me. 
 At all events, I decided to find out if you were ;
 
 133 ®onrmalin's STimc Cl)cqties. 
 
 and, seeing a girl reading on deck, I took a 
 chair near her, and after a few introductory 
 remarks I mentioned your name. The effect 
 upon her was such as to convince me that she 
 felt more than an ordinary interest in you. By 
 degrees I drew from her the whole story of 
 her relations with you : she even asked me — 
 me — for advice ! " 
 
 So Miss Davenport's confidante had not 
 been Miss Tyrrell after all — but Sophia ! If 
 he had only known that before ! 
 
 " I could not speak to her," continued So- 
 phia, " I felt stifled, stupefied by what I had 
 heard ! I could bear no more ; and so I rose 
 and left her, and walked down some stairs, 
 and somehow found myself back in our own 
 room ao;ain ! I was more bewildered than 
 ever. I looked for the cheque, but there was 
 nothing, and soon I was forced to believe that 
 the whole thing was imaginary. Still, I was 
 not wholly satisfied. You may remember 
 how I questioned you one evening when you 
 were reading the DoWs House to me ; well, 
 your answers quite reassured me for the time. 
 I told myself that my suspicions were too 
 wildly improbable not to have been a delusion.
 
 ®l)c (Culminating (El}cquc. 133 
 
 I was even afraid that my brain must be 
 slightly affected, for I had always prided my- 
 self upon having my imagination under thor- 
 ough control. But by degrees, Peter — by de- 
 grees I began to doubt again whether it was 
 really nothing but fancy on my part. I noticed 
 that your manner was suspiciously odd at 
 times. I discovered that there was one draw- 
 er in your secretary that you kept carefully 
 locked. I caught your eye wandering toward 
 the clock from time to time. What I sus- 
 pected I hardly know ; but I felt certain that 
 I should find the explanation of that mystery 
 in the locked drawer. I tried key after key, 
 until I found one that fitted. Oh, I am not 
 at all ashamed of it ! Had I not a right to 
 know? There were no letters, nothing but a 
 cheque-book ; but that cheque-book proved to 
 me that, after all, I had imagined nothing : 
 all the cheques were the same as the one I 
 found on the carpet ! I tore one out and 
 kept it by me, and from that time I watched 
 you closely. I saw how restless and impa- 
 tient }'ou were this evening, and I was cer- 
 tain that you were intending to use a cheque 
 from that book. You were bent on getting
 
 134 tourmalin's ®ime Cll)equc0. 
 
 back to the Boomerang^ and I was equally 
 determined that, if I could help it, you 
 should not go alone. Only I could not be 
 quite sure how you managed to get there, and 
 at last I hit upon a little device for finding 
 out. There is no such person as Professor 
 Dibbs, Peter ; I invented him to put you off 
 your guard. As I passed into the other room 
 with the lamp, I saw you, reflected in the mir- 
 ror over the study chimneypiece, rise and go 
 to the drawing-room mantel j^iece : you had a 
 slip of paper in your hand — a cheque, of 
 course. I had the cheque I tore out hidden 
 in the waistband of my dress ; and so, as soon 
 as I saw you slip your cheque behind the clock 
 in the drawing-room, I put my cheque behind 
 the one in the study. I was on the deck at 
 once, and it was dark, but I could hear your 
 voice and another's — round a corner. I held 
 my breath and listened. What I heard, you 
 know ! " 
 
 Peter shrank up in his chair, utterly con- 
 founded by this last vagary on the part of the 
 Time Cheques. He certainly would not have 
 supposed that the mere presentation even of a 
 " bearer " cheque by Sophia would entitle her
 
 ®l)c Ctilminoting €l)cqtte. 135 
 
 to the same fifteen minutes he was receiving 
 himself. He could only account for it by the 
 fact that the two cheques were cashed simul- 
 taneously at two separate clocks ; but even this 
 explanation was not wholly satisfactory. 
 
 He found his voice at last : 
 
 " Well," he said, " now that you know all, 
 what are you going to do about it, Sophia ? I 
 — would rather know the worst ! " 
 
 " I will tell you that in good time," she re- 
 plied ; " but, first of all, I want you to tell me 
 exactly hoM^ you came to have these cheques, 
 and what use you made of them on previous 
 occasions ? " 
 
 So, slightly reassured by her manner, which 
 was composed, Peter gave her a plain, un- 
 varnished account of the way in which he had 
 been led to deposit his extra time, and the 
 whole story of his interviews with Miss Daven- 
 port. He did not mention any others, because 
 he felt that the affair was quite complicated 
 enough without dragging in extraneous and 
 irrelevant matter. 
 
 " I may have been imprudent," he con- 
 cluded ; " but I do assure you, Sophia, that in 
 all the quarters of an hour I have had as yet.
 
 136 STourmalin ®ime Cl)cqttes. 
 
 I never once behaved to that young lady in 
 any capacity but that of a friend. I only went 
 on drawing the cheques because I wanted a 
 little change of air and scene now and then. 
 You have no idea how it picked me up ! " 
 
 " I saw in what society it set you down, 
 Peter," was Sophia's chilling answer. 
 
 " You — you musn't think she is always 
 like that," he urged. " It took me quite by 
 surjjrise — it was a most painful position for 
 me. I think, Sophia, your own sense of fair- 
 ness will acknowledge that, considering the 
 awkwardness of my situation, I — I behaved as 
 well as could be expected. You do admit that, 
 don't you ? " 
 
 Sophia was silent for a minute or so before 
 she spoke again. 
 
 "I must have time to think, Peter," she 
 said : " it is all so strange, so contrary to all 
 my experience, that I can hardly see things as 
 yet in their proper light. But I may tell you 
 at once that, from what I was able to observe, 
 and from all you have just told me, I am in- 
 clined to think that you are free from actual 
 culpability in the matter. It was quite clear 
 that that very forward girl was the principal
 
 ®l)e €nlminating (»ri)eqtie. 137 
 
 throughout, and tliat you "were nothing more 
 than an unwilhng and most embarrassed ac- 
 cessory." 
 
 This was so much more lenient a view than 
 he had dared to expect that Peter recovered 
 his ordinary equanimity. 
 
 " That was all," he said. " I am very glad 
 you saw it, my dear. I was perfectly help- 
 less ! " 
 
 " And then," said Sophia, " I was more than 
 pleased by your firm refusal to commit suicide. 
 What you said was so very sound and true, 
 Peter." 
 
 " I hope so, said Peter, with much com- 
 placency. " Yes, I was pretty firm with her ! 
 By the way," he added, " you — you didn't hap- 
 pen to see whether she really did jump over- 
 board, I suppose ? " 
 
 " I came away just at the crisis," she said. 
 " I thought you would tell me ! " 
 
 "/came away, too," said Peter. " It doesn't 
 matter, of course; but still I should have 
 rather liked to know whether she meant it 
 or not." 
 
 " How can you speak of it so heartlessly, 
 Peter ? She may have been trying to frighten
 
 138 tourmalin's STiittc Qri)eqnc0. 
 
 yon ; she is just the kind of girl who wonld. 
 But she may have been in earnest after all ! " 
 
 " You see, Sophia," said Peter, " it doesn't 
 matter whether she was or not — it isn't as if 
 it had ever really happened." 
 
 "Not really happened ? But I was there; 
 I heard, I saw it — nothing could be more 
 real ! " 
 
 " At any rate," he said, " it only happens 
 when I use those cheques ; and she can't pos- 
 sibly carry out her rash intention until I 
 draw another — which I promise you faithfully 
 I will never do. If you doubt me, I will 
 burn the book now before your eyes ! " 
 
 With these words he went to the drawer and 
 took out the cheque-book. 
 
 " IS"©," said Sophia, " you must not do that, 
 Peter. There is much about this Time Bank 
 that I don't pretend to understand, that I can 
 not account for by any known natural law ; 
 but I may not disbelieve my own eyes and 
 ears ! These events that have happened in 
 the extra time you chose to defer till now are 
 just as real as any other events. You have 
 made this girl's acquaintance ; you have — I 
 don't say through any fault of your own, but
 
 a:i)e QlulmimUing (!ri)cqne. 139 
 
 still you lian^e — caused her to transfer her 
 affections from the man she was engaged to, 
 and, being a creature of ill-regulated mind and 
 no strength of character, she has resolved to 
 put an end to her life rather than meet his 
 just indignation. She is now on the very 
 point of accomplishing this folly. Well, badly 
 as she has behaved, you can not possibly leave 
 the wretched girl there ! You must go back 
 at once, restrain her by main force, and not 
 leave her until you have argued her into a 
 rational frame of mind." 
 
 Peter was by no means anxious to go back 
 at first. 
 
 " It's not at all necessary," he said ; " and 
 besides, I don't know if you're aware of it, 
 but with the way these cheques are worked, 
 it's ten chances to one against my hitting off 
 the right fifteen minutes ! Still," he added, 
 with an afterthought, " I can try^ of course, if 
 you insist upon it. I can take my chance 
 wath another fifteen minutes, but that must be 
 the last. I am sick and tired of this Boom- 
 erang business, I am indeed ! " 
 
 Shameful as it is to state, he had altered 
 his mind from a sudden recollection that he
 
 140 ©ourmalin's ®ime (JIl)ci]ucs. 
 
 would not mind seeing Miss Tyrrell for just 
 once more. He had not drawn her for several 
 weeks. 
 
 " J^o," said Sophia, thoughtfully ; " I see 
 your objection — fifteen minutes is not enough, 
 unless you could be sure of getting the suc- 
 cessors to the last. But I have an idea, Peter 
 — if you draw out the whole balance of your 
 time, you can't possibly help getting the right 
 fifteen minutes somewhere or other. I think 
 that's logical ? " 
 
 " Oh, devilish logical ! " muttered Peter to 
 himself, who had reasons, which he could not 
 divulge to her, for strongly disapproving of 
 such a plan. 
 
 " The fact is, my dear," he said, " it — it's 
 rather late this evening to go away for any 
 time ! " 
 
 " You forget," she said, " that, however 
 long you are away, you will come back at 
 exactly the same time you start. But you 
 have some other reason, Peter — you had better 
 tell me ! " 
 
 " Well," he owned, " I might come across 
 some one I'd rather not meet." 
 
 " You are thinking of the man that girl
 
 8ri)« Culminating OTlicque. 141 
 
 said she had been engaged to — Alfred, wasn't 
 it?" 
 
 Peter had forgotten Alfred for the moment ; 
 and besides, he was not likely to turn up till 
 the Boomerang got to Plymouth, and he knew 
 his extra hours stopped before that. Still, 
 Alfred did very well as an excuse. 
 
 " Ah ! " he said, " Alfred. You lieard what 
 she said about hini ? A violent character — 
 with a revolver, Sophia ! " 
 
 " But you told her you were not afraid of 
 him. I felt so proud of you when you said 
 it. And think, you may be able to bring 
 them together — to heal the breach between 
 them ! " 
 
 " He's more likely to make a breach in me 
 that won't heal ! " said Peter. 
 
 " Still, as you said yourself, it isn't as if it 
 was all actually existing. Wliat does it matter, 
 even if he should shoot you ? " 
 
 " I don't see any advantage in exposing my- 
 self to any such unpleasant experiences, even 
 if they are only temporary," he said. 
 
 " It is not a question of advantage, Peter," 
 rejoined Sophia ; " it is a simple duty, and I'm 
 surprised that you don't see it as such. What-
 
 142 Sonrmalin's Sinte €l)cqties. 
 
 ever the consequences of your conduct may 
 be, you can not evade them like this ; you 
 have chosen to begin, and you must go on ! 
 I am quite clear about that. Let me see " — 
 (here she took the cheque-book, and made 
 some rapid calculations from the counterfoils) 
 — " yes, you have two hours and three-quarters 
 at least still standing to your credit ; and then 
 there's the compound interest. I will tear out 
 all these small cheques and burn them." "Which 
 she did as she spoke. " And now, Peter, sit 
 down and fill up one of the blank ones at the 
 end for the whole amount." 
 
 " Do you know, Sophia," said Peter, " it 
 occurs to me that this is just one of those 
 matters which can only be satisfactorily ar- 
 ranged by — er — a woman's tact. Suppose I 
 make the cheque payable to you now — eh ? " 
 
 " You mean, that you want me to go instead 
 of you ? " she asked. 
 
 "Well," said Peter, "if it wouldn't be 
 bothering you, my dear, I think perhaps it 
 would be — " 
 
 " Don't say another word," she interrupted, 
 " or I shall begin to despise you, Peter ! If I 
 thought you meant it seriously, I would go up-
 
 ®l)e Culminating C^l^equc. 143 
 
 stairs, put on my bonnet, and go back to mam- 
 ma forever. I could not bear to be the wife 
 of a coward ! " 
 
 " Oh, I'll go ! " said Peter, in much alarm. 
 " I said what I did out of consideration, not 
 cowardice. But wouldn't to-morrow do just 
 as well, Sophia ? It is late to turn out ! " 
 
 " To-morrow will not do as well," she said : 
 " fill up that cheque to-night or you will lose 
 me forever ! " 
 
 " There ! " said Peter, as he scrawled off the 
 cheque. " Are you satisfied noxo^ Sophia ? " 
 
 " I shall be when I see you present it." 
 
 " Er — yes," he said ; " oh ! I mean to pre- 
 sent it — presently. I — I think I'll take a small 
 glass of brandy before 1 go, my dear, to keep 
 the cold out." 
 
 - " As you will certainly be in a summer, if 
 not tropical, temperature the next moment," 
 she said, " I should advise you to take nothing 
 of the kind." 
 
 " I say," he suggested, " suppose I find she 
 has jumped overboard — what shall I do then ? " 
 
 " Do ! Can you possibly ask ? You will 
 jump after her, of course ! " 
 
 " It's easy to say ' of course,' " he said ;
 
 144 STourmalin'a 2[itne CCl)erjues. 
 
 " but I never could swim more than twenty 
 strokes ! " 
 
 " Swim those twenty then, and let come 
 what will ; you will be back all the sooner. 
 But don't stand there talking about it, Peter — 
 go!" 
 
 " I'm going," he said meekly. " You'll sit 
 np for me, Sophia, if — if I'm late, won't 
 you ? " 
 
 " Don't be absurd ! " she said. " You know 
 perfectly well that, as I said before, you won't 
 be away a second." 
 
 " It won't be a second for you," he said, 
 " but it will be several hours for me ; and 
 goodness only knows what I may have to go 
 through in the time ! However," he added, 
 ^vlth an attempt to be cheerful, " it may all 
 pass off quite pleasantly — don't you think it 
 may, Sophia ? " 
 
 " How can I tell ? You will only find out 
 by going." 
 
 " I'm going, my dear — I'm going at once ! 
 . . . You'll give me just one kiss before I 
 start, won't you ? " 
 
 " I will give you no kiss till you come back 
 and I hear what you have done," said Sophia.
 
 ®!)e Cttlminnting (Ulicque. 145 
 
 " Very well," he retorted ; " you may be 
 sorry you refused when it's too late ! I may 
 never come back at all, for anything I can 
 tell ! " 
 
 And, little as he knew it, he spoke with an 
 almost prophetic anticipation of what was to 
 come. Never again was he destined to stand 
 on that hearth-rug ! 
 
 But he dared not linger longer, as he could 
 see from her expression that she would suffer 
 no further trilling ; and he slipped his last 
 cheque under the clock, — with consequences 
 that must be reserved for the next chapter. 
 
 10
 
 CHAPTER YIIL 
 
 PAID IN HIS OWN COIN. 
 
 In Sus])ense : a Oleam of Comfort. — Darkness Returns, 
 — The Rock Ahead. — Sir William Lends His Binocu- 
 lar. — Reappearance of an Old Enemy, — A New Ban- 
 ger. — Out of the Frying-pan. 
 
 Peter found himself below this time, in the 
 broad passage, furnislied with seats and tables 
 for writing, and which divided the passengers' 
 cabins. Above, he heard a confused stir and 
 bustle of excitement, the trampHng of feet, the 
 creaking and rattle of chains, orders shouted 
 in English and Hindustani. From the absence 
 of all vibration, in the vessel, it was evident 
 that she had been brought to. Why f 
 
 Peter guessed the cause only too easily : the 
 unhappy Miss Davenport had indeed suc- 
 ceeded in carrying out her rash design. She
 
 Poib in l)is ovm Coin. 147 
 
 had jumped overboard, and the captain had 
 stopped the engines and lowered a boat in the 
 hope of picking her up before she sank ! And 
 he himself — why was he skulking below like 
 this ? He had only too much reason to fear 
 that he must have been a witness of the fatal 
 leap ; and, instead of plunging overboard to the 
 rescue as a hero ought, had rushed down here 
 ignomiuiously. 
 
 Had he been observed? Was his connec- 
 tion with the tragedy suspected? Could he 
 venture up on deck and inform himself ? He 
 tried, but his nerve failed him, and he sank 
 into one of the chairs in a state of almost un- 
 bearable suspense. 
 
 Just at this moment, he saw the skirts of a 
 muslin gown appear at the head of the broad 
 companion which led to the dining-saloon. 
 Some one, a girl evident!}', was descending. 
 Presently, he saw her fully revealed— it was 
 Miss Tyrrell. 
 
 Perhaps he had never been so glad to see 
 her before. She was a friend, a dear friend 
 She, at least, would sympathize with him, 
 would understand that it was not his fault if 
 he had been too late to avert a catastrophe.
 
 148 Sonrmalin's SCime (fHieques. 
 
 She was coming to him. Her eyes were friend- 
 ly and pitiful as they sought his. She, at 
 least, did not turn from him ! 
 
 " How pale, how terribly pale you look ! " 
 she said. " You must nerve yourself to see 
 her — it can not be long now ! " 
 
 " Has she been brought on board yet ? " he 
 gasped. " Is — is there any hope ? " 
 
 " We shall know very soon. It is possible 
 you may find that all is at an end." 
 
 " Ah ! you think so ? But — but no one 
 will say it was my fault, will they ? I — I was 
 ready to make any sacrifice — only somehow, 
 when the moment comes, I am apt to lose my 
 presence of mind." 
 
 " Yes, I know," she said feelingly ; " you 
 are not quite yourself yet, but I know you 
 would make the sacrifice if your duty demand- 
 ed it. But she may have taken advantage of 
 your absence to free herself and you from all 
 obligation, may she not ? " 
 
 This suggestion comforted Peter. 
 
 " She must have done ! " he said. " Yes, of 
 course. I could not be expected to prevent it, 
 if I wasn't there ; and I wasn't, when it came 
 to the point. But, Miss Tyrrell, do you think
 
 Paib in l)is oron €oin. 149 
 
 that it is really all over ? She — she may come 
 round after all ! " 
 
 " She may — but of course, if it is true that 
 she is engaged to another, she can have no 
 possible claim on yoit^'' 
 
 What a sensible right-minded way this gii'l 
 had of looking at things ! thought Peter, not 
 for the first time. 
 
 " Wh}^, of course she can't ! " he cried, 
 " And it is true. She is engaged — to a fellow 
 of the name of Alfred." 
 
 " You know that as a fact ? " she exclaimed. 
 
 " I know it from her own lips, and I need 
 not say that I should be the last person to wish 
 to — er — upset so desirable an arrangement." 
 
 " Why — why didn't you tell me all this be- 
 fore ? " she inquired. 
 
 " I — I didn't think it would interest you," 
 he replied. 
 
 Here, to Peter's utter astonishment, she 
 covered her face with her hands. 
 
 " Not interest me ! " she murmured at last. 
 " Oh, how could you — how could you keep 
 this from me ? Can't you see — can't you 
 guess what a difference it has made in my feel- 
 ings ? "
 
 150 QTotirmalin's STitnc (El)cqnes. 
 
 It might be very dull of him, but he could 
 not perceive why the fact of Miss Davenport's 
 engagement to Alfred should affect ]\Iiss Tyr- 
 rell so strangely as this ! 
 
 "I may call you 'Peter' now," she said. 
 " Oh, Peter, how happy you have made me ! 
 "Wliy did you keep silence so long ? It was too 
 quixotic ! Don't you understand even yet ? " 
 
 "No," said Peter, blankly, "I'm afraid I 
 don't." 
 
 " Then, if you are really so diffident, I — I 
 must tell you that if you were to ask a certain 
 question once more, I might — I don't say I 
 should, but I might — meet it with a different 
 answer ! " 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " he ejaculated, involun- 
 tarily. 
 
 " But you must not ask me yet — not just yet. 
 I must have time to consider. I must tell papa 
 before I decide anything. You will wait a 
 little longer, won't you, Peter ? " 
 
 " Yes," he said, feeling limp, " I'll wait. I'd 
 rather ! " 
 
 She smiled radiantly upon him, and then fled 
 lightly up the companion, leaving him with 
 fresh cause for uneasiness. He could no longer
 
 Paib in l)is own (JToin. 151 
 
 doubt that, for some reason, she expected him 
 to propose to her, which it seemed he had al- 
 ready, in one of those confounded extra min- 
 utes, been unprincipled enough to do ! Now 
 she had gone to inform her father, the judge, 
 and he would have the disagreeable task of 
 disabusing them before long ! 
 
 At this point he started, believing that he 
 was visited by an apparition ; for a cabin-door 
 opened, and Miss Davenport came out and 
 stood before him. 
 
 But she was so obviously flesh and blood 
 — and so dry — that he soon saw that all 
 his anxiety on her account had been super- 
 fluous. 
 
 " Then you — you didn't jump overboard 
 after all ? " he faltered, divided between relief 
 and annoyance at having been made to come 
 back, as it were, on false pretenses. 
 
 " You know who prevented me, and by what 
 arguments ! " she said, in a low strained voice. 
 
 ''Do I ? " he said, helplessly. 
 
 " "Who should, if you do not ? Did not you 
 implore me not to leave you, and declare that, 
 if I would only have courage and wait, we 
 should be happy even yet ? And I did wait.
 
 152 Sourmaiin'o STime QTIjeque©. 
 
 For what, I ask you, Peter Tourmalin — for 
 what f " 
 
 " It's really no use asking me," he said, " for 
 I've no idea ! " 
 
 " I waited — to discover that all this time you 
 have had a secret understanding with another ; 
 that you are about to transfer your tickle affec- 
 tions to — to that fair girl ! Don't deny it, 
 Peter ! I was listening. I see it all — all ! " 
 
 " I wish to goodness / did ! " he said. " I 
 never was in such a muddle as this in my life. 
 I can only assure you that if that young lady 
 really imagines that I am, or can be, anything 
 more to her than a friend, she is entirely mis- 
 taken. I was just about to go up and explain 
 as much to her father ! " 
 
 " You are not deceiving me ? " she asked, 
 earnestly. " You are sure f " 
 
 " I will swear it, if you wish ! " he replied. 
 
 " No," she said, relenting visibly, " your 
 word is enough. I do beheve you, and I am 
 almost happy again. So long as you do not 
 desert me, even Alfred loses half liis terrors ! " 
 
 " Exactly," he said ; " and now, if yon will 
 excuse me, I'll just run up on deck and settle 
 this other business."
 
 Paib in l)is otun CToin. 153 
 
 He went up to the hurricane-deck, and found 
 the ship had anchored. In front was a huge 
 barren rock, with Hues of forts, walls, and tele- 
 graph poles ; and at its base a small white town 
 huddled. Thej had arrived at Gibraltar, which 
 accounted for the absence of motion. 
 
 As he stood there, taking this in, he was ac- 
 costed by Sir "William Tyrrell, who thrust his 
 arm through Peter's in a friendly manner. 
 
 " My dear boy," said the judge, heartily, 
 " Yiolet has just told me the good news. I can 
 only say that I am delighted — most delighted ! 
 I have always felt a warm interest in you, ever 
 since that affair of — " 
 
 " Of the monkey," said Peter. " I am very 
 glad to hear it. Sir William ; but — but I ought 
 to tell you that I am afraid Miss Tyrrell was 
 — a Httle premature. She misinterpreted a re- 
 mark of mine, which, in point of fact, referred 
 to somebody else altogether." 
 
 " Then you have no more reason than before 
 for assuming that jonr JiajicSe has thrown you 
 over. Am I to understand that ? " 
 
 "No more reason than before," admitted 
 Peter. 
 
 " And your uncertainty still continues ? Very
 
 154 Sourmalin'a ^imc Clljcqtic©. 
 
 unsatisfactory, I must say ! I do think, my dear 
 fellow, that, in your position, you should have 
 been more careful to refrain from betraying any 
 interest in Violet until you knew that you were 
 free to speak. As it is, you may have cast a 
 shadow upon her young life that it may take 
 years to dispel ! " 
 
 Peter's heart sank into his boots for very 
 shame at this gentle and almost paternal re- 
 proof. 
 
 " Yes," continued the worthy judge, " Vio- 
 let is a high-minded girl, scrupulously sensitive 
 on points of honor ; and, unless the young lady 
 you are under a semi-engagement to should re- 
 lease you of her own free will, I know my daugh- 
 ter too well to doubt that she will counsel you 
 to fulfill your contract and renounce all hope 
 so far as she is concerned." 
 
 Peter felt a little easier. 
 
 " I — I am prepared to do that," he said. 
 
 " Well, I don't say myself that I go quite so 
 far as she does ; but strictly, no doubt, a prom- 
 ise is a promise, and should be kept at all haz- 
 ards. You have done all that a man can hon- 
 orably do to put himself right. You have 
 written to this young lady, so I understand,
 
 |)aib in l)is otnn Coin. 155 
 
 informing her of the change in yonr senti- 
 ments, and offering, nevertheless, to redeem 
 your promise if she insisted upon it. I tliink 
 that was the general purport of your letter." 
 
 Here was one more evil fruit of his extra 
 time ! What would Sophia think, or say, or 
 do, if such a letter as that ever came to her 
 knowledge ? Fortunately, that at least was 
 impossible ! 
 
 " You have some grounds," the judge went 
 on, "for assuming that the lady has already 
 treated the contract as non-existent — a person 
 called Alfred, I think my daugliter said ? " 
 
 " No, that was a mistake," explained Peter. 
 "Alfred is engaged to quite a different person." 
 
 " Well, in any case, it is quite possible that 
 you may obtain your release when you meet 
 her ; and your suspense will soon be over now. 
 Miss — er — Pincher, is it? — will probably be 
 on board the ship before many minutes. I 
 see the boats are putting out from the harbor 
 already." 
 
 " What I " cried Peter, with the terrible con- 
 viction darting through his mind that Sir Will- 
 iam spoke the bare truth. 
 
 Sophia had said something about meeting
 
 156 ®ottrmaUn'0 ®imc dTljeqttes. 
 
 him at Gibraltar ; but if she had done so dur- 
 ing the real voyage, how could he have the 
 meeting all over again, with this ghastly vari- 
 ation? If he could only remember whether 
 she had come out, or not ! It was singular, 
 incomprehensible ! But his memory was a 
 blank on such a vital fact as this ! 
 
 " Would you like to have my field-glass for a 
 moment ? " said Sir "VYilliam, considerately. 
 
 Peter took them, and the next moment the 
 binocular fell from his nerveless hands. He 
 had seen only too clearly the familiar form of 
 Sophia seated in the peaked stern of a small 
 craft which a Spanish boatman was " scissoring " 
 through the waves toward the Boomerang, 
 
 " Come, courage ! " said the Judge kindly, 
 as he picked up his glass and wiped the lenses. 
 " Don't be nervous, my boy. You don't know 
 what she may have to say to you yet, you know ! " 
 
 " No, I don't ! " he groaned. " I— I think 
 I ought to go down to the gangway and meet 
 her," he added, tremulously — not that he had 
 any intention of doing so, but he wanted to be 
 alone. 
 
 Before the Judge could even express his 
 approbation of Peter's course. Tourmalin was
 
 |)oib in 1)10 own (Coin. 157 
 
 down on the saloon-deck seeking a quiet spot 
 wherein to collect his thoughts. 
 
 Before he could find the quiet spot, how- 
 ever, he almost ran into tlie arms of the ma- 
 tron from Melbourne, whom he had not seen 
 since the episode of the music-room. 
 
 " A word with you, Mr. Tourmalin ! " she 
 said. 
 
 " I — I really can't stop now," stammered 
 Peter. " I — I'm expecting friends ! " 
 
 " I, too," she said, " am expecting a relation, 
 and it is for that reason that I wish to speak 
 to you now. My brother, who has been stay- 
 ing at Gibraltar on account of his health, will 
 be as determined as I am to trace and punish 
 the infamous calumny upon the name and 
 career of our honored parent." 
 
 " I dare say, madam," said Peter—" I dare 
 say. Yery creditable to you both — but I really 
 can't stop just now ! " 
 
 " You appear to forget, sir, that, unless you 
 can satisfactorily establish your innocence, my 
 brother will certainly treat you as the person 
 primarily responsible for an atrocious slan- 
 der!" 
 
 " A slander — upon your father ! . . . Me f "
 
 158 Sourmaiin's STimc €l)cqucs. 
 
 said the indignant Peter. " Why, I never 
 heard of the gentleman ! " 
 
 " Denial will not serve yon now," she said. 
 " I have not only your own admissions in the 
 music-room, but the evidence of more than 
 one trustworthy witness, to prove that you 
 circulated a report that my dear father — one 
 of the most honored and respected citizens of 
 Melbourne — began his Colonial career as — as 
 a transported convict ! " 
 
 After all, as the hapless Peter instantly saw, 
 he might have said so, for anything he knew, 
 in one of those still unexhausted extra quarters 
 of an hour ! 
 
 " If I said so, I was misinformed," he 
 said. 
 
 " Just so ; and in our conversation on the 
 subject, you mentioned the name of the per- 
 son who used you as his mouthpiece to dis- 
 seminate his malicious venom. What I wish 
 to know now is, whether you are prepared or 
 not to repeat that statement ? " 
 
 Peter recollected now that he had used ex- 
 pressions implicating Mr. Perkins although 
 merely as the origin of totally different com- 
 plications.
 
 |Joib in \)\s omn QToin. 159 
 
 " I can't positively go so far as tliat," he 
 said. " I — I made the statement generally." 
 
 " As you please," she said. " I can merely 
 say that my brother, whom I expect moment- 
 arily, is, although an invalid in some respects, 
 a powerful and determined man ; and unless 
 you repeat in his presence the sole excuse you 
 have to offer, he will certainly horsewhip you 
 in the presence of the other passengers. That 
 is all, sir ! " 
 
 " Thank you — it's quite enough ! " mur- 
 mured Peter, thinking that Alfred himself 
 could hardly be much more formidable ; and 
 he slipped down the companion to the cabin- 
 saloon, where he found Miss Davenport anx- 
 iously expecting him. 
 
 " He is here," she whispered. " I have just 
 seen him through the port-hole." 
 
 " What — the old lady's brother ! " he replied. 
 
 " He has no sister who is an old lady. I 
 mean Alfred." 
 
 '' Alfred f" he almost yelped. "Alfred 
 here / " 
 
 " Of course he is here. Is not his battalion 
 stationed at Gibraltar ? You knew it, we were 
 to meet him here ! "
 
 160 ®0ttrmalin's STime €l)eqncs. 
 
 " I didn't, indeed — or I sliould never liave 
 come ! " lie protested. 
 
 "Don't let us waste words now. He is 
 here ; lie will demand an explanation from 
 jou. lie lias liis j)istol with him — I could 
 tell by the bulge under his coat. We must 
 both face him ; and the question is, What are 
 you going to say ? " 
 
 Peter thrust his hands through his carefully 
 parted hair : 
 
 " Say ! " he repeated. " I shall tell him the 
 simple, straightforward truth. I shall frankly 
 admit that we have walked, and sat, and talked 
 together ; but I shall assure him, as I can hon- 
 estly, that during the whole course of our ac- 
 quaintance I have never once regarded you in 
 any other light but that of a friend." 
 
 "And you suppose that, knowing how I 
 have changed, he will believe that ! " she cried. 
 " He will fire long before you can finish one of 
 those fine sentences ! " 
 
 " In that case," suggested Peter, " why tell 
 him anything at all ? Why not spare him, 
 poor fellow, at all events for the time ? It 
 will only upset him just now. Let him sup- 
 pose that we are strangers to one another ; and
 
 Paib in his oton (Eoin. 161 
 
 you can break the truth to him gently \vlien 
 you reach England, you know. I'm sure that's 
 much the more sensible plan ! " 
 
 She broke into strange mirthless laughter. 
 
 " Your prudence comes too late," she said. 
 " You forget that the truth was broken to him 
 some days ago, in the letter I wrote from Brin- 
 disi." 
 
 " You wrote and broke it to him at Brin- 
 disi ! " cried Peter. " What induced you to do 
 
 " Why, you ! " she retorted. " You insisted 
 that it was due to him ; and though I knew 
 better than you what the effect would be, I 
 dared not tell you the whole truth. I wanted 
 to end the engagement, too ; and I scarcely 
 cared then what consequences might follow. 
 Now they are upon us, and it is useless to try 
 to escape them. Since we must die, let us go 
 up on deck and get it over ! " 
 
 " One moment," he said ; " Alfred can wait 
 a little. I — I must go to my cabin first, and 
 put on a clean collar." 
 
 And ■\;\'ith this rather flimsy pretext, he 
 again made his escape. He made up his mind 
 what to do as he rushed toward his cabin. He 
 11
 
 163 Sottrmalin's QLimc (!Li)cqms. 
 
 could hardly have been anything like an hour 
 on board the Boomerang as yet ; he had to get 
 through at least another three before he could 
 hope for deliverance. His only chance was to 
 barricade himself inside his cabin, and stead- 
 fastly refuse to come out, upon any considera- 
 tion whatever, until he was released by the 
 natural expiration of time. 
 
 He sped down the passage, and found, to his 
 horror, that he had forgotten the number of 
 his berth. However, he knew where it ought 
 to be, and darted into an open door, which he 
 fastened securely with hook and bolt, and 
 sank breathless on one of the lower berths. 
 
 " You seem in a hurry, my friend ! " said a 
 voice opposite; and Peter's eyes, unused at 
 first to the comparative dinmess, perceived 
 that a big man was sitting on the opposite 
 berth, engaged in putting on a pair of spiked 
 cricket-shoes. He had bolted himself inside 
 the cabin with Mr. Perkins !
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 COMPOUND INTEREST. 
 
 Bach to the Fire Again. — A Magnanimous Return. — 
 Catching at Straws. — Tivo Total Strangers. — Purely 
 a Question of Precedence. — " Hemmed in " and " Sur- 
 rounded." — T/ie Last Chance. 
 
 % 
 The Bank Manager looked across at Peter 
 with an amused smile ; he seemed quite friend- 
 ly. Whether he was in Peter's cabin, or Peter 
 in his, did not appear ; and perhaps it was 
 not of much consequence either way. If the 
 cabin belonged to Mr, Perkins, he did not, at 
 all events, appear to resent the intrusion. 
 
 " You seem rather put out about something," 
 he said again, as Peter was still too short of 
 breath for words. 
 
 " Oh, no," panted Peter, " it's nothing. 
 There was so much bustle going on above that 
 I thought I'd come in here for a little quiet ; 
 that's all."
 
 164 dourmalin'a ®;ime (JTtjeqtxcs. 
 
 " Well," said the manager, " I'm glad you 
 looked in ; for, as it happens, you're the very 
 man I wanted to see. I dare say you're won- 
 dering why I'm putting on these things ? " 
 
 Peter nodded his head, which was all he felt 
 equal to. 
 
 " Why, I've just been having a talk with 
 that old she-griffin from Melbourne. Perhaps 
 you don't know that her brother is coming on 
 board directly ? " 
 
 " O yes, I do f " said Peter. 
 
 " Well, it seems she means to denounce me 
 to him as the slanderer of her father. She 
 may, if she chooses ; my conscience is perfectly 
 clear on that score. No one can bring any- 
 thing of the sort home to me; and I've no 
 doubt I shall soon satisfy him that I'm as inno- 
 cent as an unborn babe. Still, I want you, as 
 a respectable man and the only real friend I 
 have on board, to come with me and be my 
 witness that you never heard such a rumor 
 from my lips ; and besides, sir, we shall have 
 an opportunity at last of seeing the unutterable 
 scamp who has had the barefaced impudence 
 to say I told him this precious story ! She's 
 going to produce him, sir ; and if he dares to
 
 Componnb Jfnterest. 165 
 
 stand me out to my face — well, A<g'll know why 
 I've put on these shoes ! Come along ; I can't 
 let you olf." 
 
 Peter dared not refuse, for fear of attracting 
 his friend's suspicions. He could only trust 
 to slipping away in the confusion ; and so, un- 
 fastening the cabin-door, the manager caught 
 the unresisting Tourmalin tightly by the arm, 
 and hurried him along the central passage and 
 up the companion. 
 
 Even Miss Davenport would have been a 
 welcome diversion at that moment; but she 
 was not there to intercept him, and he reached 
 the upper deck more dead than alive. 
 
 " "Where's that old vixen now ? " exclaimed 
 the Manager, dropping Peter's arm. " Here, 
 just stay where you are a minute, till I find her 
 and her confounded brother ! " 
 
 He bustled ofl", leaving Tourmalin by the 
 davits, quite incapable of action of any kind in 
 the presence of this new and awful dilemma. 
 He had been spreading a cruel and unjustifia- 
 ble slander against an irreproachable colonial 
 magnate, whose son was now at hand to de- 
 mand reparation with a horsewhip. He could 
 only propitiate him by denouncing Perkins as
 
 166 (Jonrmalin's STime Cliques. 
 
 his informant, and if he did that he would be 
 kicked from one end of the ship to the other 
 with a spiked boot ! This was IS^emesis indeed, 
 and it was Sophia who had insisted upon his 
 exposing himself to it. "What a fool he was 
 not to fly back to that cabin while he could ! 
 
 He turned to flee, and as he did so a hand 
 was passed softly through his arm. 
 
 " Not that way, Peter ! " said Miss Tyrrell's 
 voice. 
 
 A wild, faint hope came to him that he 
 might be going to receive one of the back 
 quarters of an hour. The caprices of the Time 
 Cheques were such that it was quite possible 
 he would be thrown back into an earlier inter- 
 view. Little as he felt inclined for any social 
 intercourse just then, he felt that it would 
 afford him a brief interlude — would at least 
 give him breathing-time before his troubles 
 beo^an ao-ain. 
 
 " I will go wherever you choose," he said ; 
 " I am in your hands," 
 
 "I came," she said, "to take you to her. 
 She is asking for you." 
 
 " She % " said Peter. " For heaven's sake, 
 who % "
 
 QTotnpoitnb interest. 167 
 
 " Why, Miss Pineeney, of course. I knew 
 who it was directly I saw her face. Peter, is 
 it true, as papa tells me, that I misunderstood 
 you just now — that she is not engaged to Al- 
 fred?" 
 
 " AKred ? ISTo ! " he replied. " If she is en- 
 gaged to any one at all, I have strong grounds 
 for supposing it's to me ! " 
 
 " Then we must submit, that is all," said 
 Miss Tyrrell. " But we do not know her de- 
 cision yet ; there is still hope ! " 
 
 " Yes," he said, " there is hope still. Let us 
 go to her ; make haste ! " 
 
 He meant what he said. Sophia could at 
 least extricate him from a portion of his diffi- 
 culties. Miss Tyrrell — magnanimous and un- 
 selfish girl that she was, in spite of her talent 
 for misapprehension — was ready to resign him 
 to a prior claim, if one was made. And 
 Sophia was bound to claim him ; for if the en- 
 gagement between them had been broken off, 
 he could not now be her husband, as he was. 
 Even Time Cheques must recognize accom- 
 plished facts. 
 
 He followed her across the ship, turning 
 down the very passage in which he had sat
 
 168 ®0nrmalin's STitnc Qlljeques. 
 
 through more than one cheque with Miss 
 Davenport ; and on the opposite side he found 
 Sophia standing, with her usual composure, 
 waiting for his arrival. 
 
 She was so identically the same Sophia that 
 he had left so lately, that he felt reassured. 
 She, at least, could not be the dupe of all this. 
 She had come — how, he did not trouble him- 
 self to think, — but she had come with the 
 benevolent intention of savino; him ! 
 
 " How do you do, my love ? " he began. " I 
 — I thought I should see you here." 
 
 " You only see me here, Peter," she replied, 
 in a voice that trembled slightly, in spite of 
 her efforts to command it, " because I felt 
 very strongly that it was my duty to put an end 
 at the earliest moment to a situation which has 
 become impossible ! " 
 
 " I'm sure," said Peter, " it is quite time it 
 was put an end to — it couldn't go on like this 
 much longer." 
 
 " It shall not, if I can help it," she said. 
 " Miss Tyrrell, pray don't go away ; what I 
 have to say concerns you too." 
 
 "No; don't go away, Miss Tyrrell," added 
 Peter, who felt the most perfect confidence in
 
 Compotinb Interest. 169 
 
 Sophia's superior wisdom, and was now per- 
 suaded that somehow it was all going to be ex- 
 plained. " Sir William, will you kindly step this 
 way too ? Sir William Tyrrell — Miss Pinceney. 
 Miss Pinceney has something to tell you which 
 will make my position thoroughly clear." 
 
 " I have only to say," she said, " that your 
 honorable and straightforward conduct, Peter, 
 has touched me to the very heart. I feel that 
 I am the only person to blame, for it was I 
 who insisted upon you subjecting yourself to 
 this test." 
 
 " It was," said Peter. " I told you some- 
 thing would haj)pen — and it has ! " 
 
 " I would never hold you to a union from 
 which all love on your side had fled ; do not 
 think so, Peter. And now that I see my — my 
 rival, I confess that I could expect no other 
 result. So, dear Miss Tyrrell, I resign him 
 to you freely — yes, cheerfully — for, by your 
 womanly self-abnegation you have proved 
 yourself the worthier. Take her, Peter ; you 
 have my full consent ! " 
 
 " My dear young lady," said the Judge, 
 deeply affected, " this is most noble of you ! 
 Allow me to shake you by the hand."
 
 170 Sotirmalin's ®;itne (t\)e(\ne8. 
 
 " I can't thank yon, dear, dear, Miss Pin- 
 ceney ! " sobbed his daughter. " Peter, tell 
 her for me how we shall both bless and love 
 her all our lives for this ! " 
 
 Peter's brain reeled. Was this Sophia's 
 notion of getting him out of a difficulty ? 
 
 As he gazed distractedly around, his eyes 
 became fixed and glazed with a new terror. A 
 stalwart stranger, with a bushy red beard, was 
 coming toward him, with a stout riding-whip 
 in his right hand. By his side walked the 
 Manager, from whose face all vestige of friend- 
 liness had vanished. 
 
 "As soon as you have quite finished your 
 conversation with these ladies," said the Man- 
 ager, with iron politeness, " this gentleman 
 would be glad of a few moments with you ; 
 after which I shall request your attention to a 
 little personal affair of my own.- Don't let us 
 hur^'y you, you know ! " 
 
 " I — I won't," returned Peter, flurriedly ; 
 " but I'm rather busy just now : a little later, 
 I— I shall be delighted." 
 
 As he stood there, he was aware that they 
 had withdrawn to a bench some distance away, 
 where they conferred with the elderly lady
 
 Compound Interest. 171 
 
 from Melbourne. He could feel their an- 
 gry glare upon him, and it contributed to 
 rob him of the little self-possession he had 
 left. 
 
 " Sophia," he faltered piteously, " I say this 
 is too bad — it is, really ! You canH mean to 
 leave me in such a hole as this — do let's get 
 home at once ! " 
 
 Before she could make any reply to an ap- 
 peal which seemed to astonish her considerably, 
 a thin, bilious-looking man, with a face twitch- 
 ing with nervous excitement, a heavy black 
 mustache, and haggard eyes, in which a red 
 fire smoldered, appeared at the gangway and 
 joined the group. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said, lifting his 
 hat ; " forgive me if I interrupt you, but my 
 business is urgent — most urgent ! Perhaps 
 you could kindly inform me if there is a — a 
 gentleman " (the word cost him a manifest 
 struggle to pronounce) — " a gentleman on board 
 of the name of Tourmalin ? I have a little 
 matter of business " (here his right hand stole 
 to his breast-pocket) " to transact with him," he 
 explained, with a sinister smile that caused 
 Peter to give suddenly at the knees.
 
 172 (Jonrmalin's QLimc (!Il)eqncs. 
 
 " It's that infernal Alfred ! " he thought. 
 " Now I am done for ! " 
 
 " Why," said Miss Tjrrell, who was clinging 
 affectionately to Peter's arm, " this is Mr. Tour- 
 malin ! You can speak to him now — here, if 
 you choose. We have no secrets from one an- 
 other — have we, Peter ? " 
 
 " I have lately learned," said the gloomy 
 man, " that a certain Mr. Tourmalin has stolen 
 from me the affection of one who was all heaven 
 and earth to me ! " 
 
 " Then it must be another Mr. Tourmalin," 
 said Miss Tyrrell, " not this one ; because — 
 surely you do not need to be told that you 
 have no rivalry to fear from him ? " she broke 
 off, with a blush of charming embarrassment. 
 
 Alfred's scowl distinctly relaxed, and Peter 
 felt that, after all, this unfortunate misunder- 
 standing on Miss Tyrrell's part might prove 
 serviceable to him. Since Sophia, for reasons 
 of her own, refused to assist him, he must ac- 
 cept any other help that offered itself. 
 
 " The best proof I can give you of my inno- 
 cence," he said, " is to mention that I have the 
 honor to be engaged to this lady." 
 
 He heard a stifled shriek from behind him
 
 €ompotinb Interest. 173 
 
 as he made this assertion, and the next moment 
 Miss Davenport, who must have come up in 
 time to catch the last words, had burst into the 
 center of the group. 
 
 " It is not true ! " she cried. " Alfred, you 
 must not believe him ! " 
 
 " Not true f " exclaimed Alfred, Sophia, Miss 
 T^Trell, and Sir William, in the same breath. 
 
 " No ! " said Miss Davenport ; " at least, if 
 he has really engaged himself, it is within the 
 last few minutes, and with the chivalrous in- 
 tention of shielding one ! Peter, I will not be 
 shielded by such means. Our love is too pre- 
 cious to be publicly denied. I can not suffer 
 it ; I will acknowledge it, though it costs me 
 my life ! You," she added, turning to Sophia 
 — " you can prove that I speak the truth. It 
 was to you that I confided, that day we met on 
 deck, the story of our fatal attachment." 
 
 " I really think you must be mistaken," 
 said Sophia coldly. " If you confided such a 
 story to anybody, it could not have been to 
 me ; for, until a few minutes ago, I had never 
 set foot upon this ship." 
 
 How Sophia could stand there and, remem- 
 bering, as she must do, her recent appropri-
 
 174 ©ourmalin's ®imc (S.\)cqneQ. 
 
 ation of the Time CheqiTe, tell such a down- 
 right fib as this, passed Peter's comprehension. 
 But, as her statement was in his favor so far 
 as it went, he knew better than to contradict 
 it. 
 
 " Whether it was you or not," insisted Miss 
 Davenport, " it is he and no one else who 
 rendered my engagement to Alfred utterly 
 repugnant to me ! Can you look at him now, 
 and doubt me longer ? " 
 
 " So, Peter," said Sophia severely, " you 
 could not even be faithful to your unfaithful- 
 ness ! " 
 
 Miss Tyrrell made no comment, but she 
 dropped his arm as if it had scorched her 
 fingers, whereupon Miss Davenport clung to it 
 in her stead, to Peter's infinite dismay and con- 
 fusion. 
 
 " He is faithful ! " she cried. " It is only 
 a mistaken sense of honor that made him ap- 
 parently false. Yes, Alfred, what I wrote to 
 you, and the postscript he added, is the sim- 
 ple truth. We can not command our own 
 hearts. Such love as I once had for you is 
 dead — it died on the fatal day which brought 
 him across my path. We met — we love ; deal
 
 domponnb Interest. 175 
 
 with us as you will ! I would rather, ever so 
 much rather, die with him than lose him 
 now ! " 
 
 Alfred was already beginning to fumble 
 fiercely in his breast-pocket. Peter felt the 
 time had arrived for plain speaking ; he could 
 not submit to be butchered under a ridiculous 
 misapprehension of this kind. 
 
 " Listen to me ! " he said eagerly, " before 
 you do anything rash, or you may bitterly re- 
 gret it afterward. I do assure you that I am 
 the victim — we are all the victims of a series 
 of unfortunate cheques — I should say, mis- 
 takes. It's absurd to make me responsible for 
 the irregular proceedings of a nonsensical 
 Bank. If I had spent my time as I ought to 
 have done at the time, instead of putting it 
 out on deposit I should never have dreamed 
 of employing it in any kind of philander- 
 ing ! " 
 
 " That," said Sophia, " is undeniable ; but 
 you spent it as you ought not to have done ! " 
 
 " Such a speech comes ill from you," he 
 said, reproachfully, " after having expressly 
 condoned the past ; and, however I may have 
 appeared to philander, I can conscientiously
 
 176 ^ourmoUn'e ®ime dL^mnts. 
 
 declare that my sentiments toward both of 
 these young ladies — both, you understand — 
 have been restricted to a respectful and — and 
 merely friendly esteem, . . . Don't shoot, 
 Alfred ! . . . I thought that was quite under- 
 stood on all sides. Only have a little more 
 patience, Alfred, and I will undertake to con- 
 vince even you that I could not for a moment 
 have contemplated depriving you of the hand 
 of this extremely charming and attractive 
 lady, who \vi\\ not let go my arm. . . . I — I 
 am a married man 1 " 
 
 " Married ! " shrieked Miss Davenport, 
 cowering back. 
 
 " Married ! " exclaimed Miss Tyrrell, as she 
 hid her face upon her father's shoulder. 
 
 " Marled ! " shouted the Judge. " By heav- 
 ens, sir, you shall account to me for this ! " 
 
 " Married ! " cried Sophia.. " Oh, Peter, I 
 was 7iot prepared for this ! AVhen ? Where ? " 
 
 ''WTienf Where f' he echoed. "You 
 were not prepared for it ? Perhaps you will 
 ask me next who my wife is ! " 
 
 " I shall not indeed," said Sophia, " for I 
 have no longer the slightest curiosity on such 
 a subject ! "
 
 Compounb Interest. 177 
 
 Peter collapsed upon the nearest bench. 
 
 " Sophia ? " he cried hoarsely, " why keep 
 this lip any longer? Surely it is gone far 
 enough — you canH pretend you don't know ! " 
 
 But while he spoke the words, he saw sud- 
 denly that his attempt to force her hand was 
 hopeless : she was quite sincere in her surprise ; 
 she was the Sophia of six moiitlis ago^ and no 
 amount of explanation could ever make her 
 comprehend what had happened since that time ! 
 
 And here Alfred broke his silence. 
 
 "What you have just confessed," he said, 
 " removes my last scruple. I might, for all 1 
 can tell, have stayed my hand and spared your 
 life upon your promise to make Maud happy ; 
 for, in spite of her treatment of me, her happi- 
 ness is still my first consideration. But now 
 you have declared that impossible, — why, as 
 soon as I can get this revolver out of my 
 pocket — for it has stuck in the confounded 
 lining — I will shoot you like a rabbit ! " 
 
 " Sir William," cried Peter, " I appeal to 
 you ! You are the representative of Law and 
 Order here. He is threatening a breach of 
 the Peace — the Queeii's Peace ! I call upon 
 you to interfere ! " 
 
 12
 
 178 (JTontmalin'© ®ime €l)cqties. 
 
 " I am no advocate," said Sir William, with 
 judicial calm, " for taking the law into one'& 
 own hands. I even express a hope that this 
 gentleman will not carry out his avowed inten- 
 tion, at least until I have had time to with- 
 draw, and I must not be understood to approve 
 his action in any way. At the same time, I 
 am distinctly of opinion that he has received 
 sufficient provocation to excuse even such ex- 
 treme measures, and that the fate he threatens 
 will, if summary, at least be richly deserved." 
 
 " I think so too," said Sophia, " though it 
 would be painful to be compelled to witness 
 it!" 
 
 " Terrible ! " agreed Miss Tyrrell. " Let us 
 hide our eyes, dear ! " 
 
 " Stay, Alfred ! " Miss Davenport implored, 
 " have some pity ! Think — with all your 
 faults, you are a keen sj^ortsman — you would 
 not shoot even a rabbit sitting ! Give Mr. 
 Tourmalin a start of a few seconds — let him 
 liave a run before you fire ! " 
 
 All this time Alfred was still fumbling for 
 and execrating the obstinate weapon. 
 
 " I decline to run ! " Peter cried from liis 
 seat ; he k.new too well that he could not stir a
 
 CompottniJ Interest. 179 
 
 limb. " Slioot me sitting, or not at all, but 
 don't keep me waiting any longer ! " 
 
 His prayer seemed likely to be granted, for 
 Alfred had at last succeeded in extricating the 
 revolver; but before he could take aim, the 
 Bank Manager and the Melbourne man ran in 
 and interposed. 
 
 " Hold on one minute, sir," they said ; " we, 
 too, have business with the gentleman on the 
 seat there, and you will admit that it must be 
 concluded before yours, if it is to be settled at 
 all. "We must really ask you to postpone your 
 little affair until we have finished. "We will 
 not keep you waiting any longer than we can 
 help." 
 
 The Judge, with an ostentatious indiffer- 
 ence, had strolled away to the smoking-room, 
 probably to avoid being called upon to decide 
 so nice a point as this disputed precedence ; 
 his daughter. Miss Davenport, and Sophia, 
 had turned their backs, and, stopping their 
 ears, were begging to be told when all was 
 over. 
 
 Alfred was struggling to free his pistol-arm, 
 which was firmly held by the other two men, 
 and all three were talking at once in hot and
 
 180 QTourmalin's ®imc Cheques. 
 
 argumentative support of their claims. As 
 for Peter, he sat and looked on, glued to his 
 seat by terror : if he had any preference among 
 the disputants, he rather hoped that Alfred 
 would be the person to gain his point. 
 
 All at once he saw Sophia turn round and, 
 with her fingers still pressed to her ears, make 
 energetic contortions of her lips, evidently for 
 his benefit. After one or two repetitions, he 
 made out the words she was voicelessly fram- 
 ing. 
 
 " Run for it 1 " he interpreted. " Quick 
 . . . while you can ! " 
 
 With his habitual respect for her advice, he 
 rose and, finding that the power of motion had 
 suddenly returned, he did run for it; he 
 slipped quietly round the corner and down the 
 passage to the other side of the ship, where he 
 hoped to reach the saloon-entrance, and eventu- 
 ally regain his cabin. 
 
 Unhappily for him, the grim lady from Mel- 
 bourne had noted his flight and anticipated its 
 object. Long before he got to the open doors, 
 he saw her step out and bar the way ; she had 
 an open sunshade in her hand, which she was 
 preparing to use as a butterfly net.
 
 Compounb Jntcrcat. 181 
 
 lie turned and fled abruptly in the opposite 
 direction, intending to cross the bridge which 
 led aft to the second-class saloon deck, where 
 he might find cover ; but as he saw, on turning 
 the corner, the Manager had already occupied 
 the passage, Peter turned again and doubled 
 back across the ship, making for the forecastle ; 
 but he was too late, for the Melbourne man 
 was there before him, and cut off all hope of 
 retreat in that quarter. 
 
 There was only one thing left now ; he must 
 take to the rigging, and accordingly the next 
 moment, scarcely knowing how he came there, 
 he was clambering up the shrouds for dear 
 Hfe! 
 
 . Higher and higher he climbed, slipping and 
 stumbling, and catching liis unaccustomed feet 
 in the rathns at every step ; and all the way he 
 had a dismal conviction that as yet he had not 
 nearly exhausted the check he had dra-\vn. He 
 must have at least another couple of hours to 
 get through, not to mention the compound in- 
 terest, which the bank seemed characteristically 
 enough to be paying first. 
 
 Still, if he could only stay quietly up aloft 
 till his time was up, he might escape tlie worst
 
 182 tourmalin's ®ime €l)cqttc0. 
 
 yet. Surely it was a sufficient penalty for his 
 folly to have embroiled himself with every 
 creature he knew ; to have been chivied about 
 the deck of an ocean steamer by three violent 
 men, each thirsting for. his blood ; and to be 
 reduced to mount the rigging Kke an escaped 
 monkey ! 
 
 A few more steps and he was safe at last ! 
 Just above was a huge yard, flattened on the 
 upper surface, with a partially furled sail, be- 
 hind which he could crouch unseen ; his hands 
 were almost upon it, when a bronzed and 
 bearded face appeared above the canvas — it 
 was one of the English crew. 
 
 " Beg your pardon, sir," said the man, civilly 
 enough, " but I shall 'ave fur to trouble you to 
 go down agin, please. Capt'in's strick orders, 
 sir. Passengers ain't allowed to amuse their- 
 selves climbing the rigging ! " 
 
 " My good man ! " said Peter, between his 
 pants, " do I look as if I was amusing myself ? 
 I am pursued, I tell you. As an honest, good- 
 hearted British seaman — which I am sure you 
 are — I entreat you to give me a hand up, and 
 hide me ; it — it may be life or death for 
 me ! "
 
 (Compound Jntcrcst. 183 
 
 The man wavered ; the desperate plight 
 Peter was in seemed to arouse liis compassion, 
 as it well might. 
 
 " I could 'ide yer, I suppose, come to that," 
 he said slowly ; " but it's too late to think o' 
 that now. Look below, sir ! " 
 
 Peter glanced down between his feet, and 
 saw two swarthy Lascars climbing the rigging 
 like cats. Lower still, he had a bird's-eye view 
 of the deck, about which his enemies were 
 posted in readiness for his arrival : the Manager 
 exhibiting his spiked boots to Sir "William, who 
 shook his head in mild deprecation ; the old 
 lady shaking her sunshade in angry denuncia- 
 tion, while her brother flourished his horse- 
 whip ; and Alfred stood covering him with his 
 revolver, pre]3ared to pick him off the instant 
 he came within range ! 
 
 And Peter hung there by his hands — for his 
 feet had slipped out of the ratlins — as helpless 
 a target as any innocent bottle in a shooting- 
 gallery, and the Lascars were getting nearer 
 and nearer ! 
 
 He could see their bilious eyeballs, and their 
 teeth gleaming in their dusky faces. He felt 
 a bony hand reaching for his ankles, and then
 
 184 S^ourmalin'a ®itnc Qri)cqttcs. 
 
 a dizziness came over liim ; liis grip upon tlie 
 coarse, tarry cordage relaxed, and, shutting his 
 eyes, he fell — down — down — down. "Would 
 the fall never come to an end? Would he 
 never arrive ? . . .
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 DENOUEMENT. 
 
 At last ! The shock was over ; and he 
 feebly opened his eyes once more, to find that 
 he was undoubtedly on the deck ; and, yes, the 
 Bank Manager was standing over hhn with a 
 kind of triumphant grin ! 
 
 " Mercy ! " Peter murmured faintly. " You 
 — you surely wouldn't kick a man when he's 
 down ! " 
 
 " My dear sir ! " protested the Manager, 
 " why should I wish to kick you in any posi- 
 tion ? " 
 
 He must be fatally injured, if even the 
 Manager had relented ! 
 
 " Is — is Alfred there ? " asked Tourmalin, 
 anxiously. " Keep him away, if you can ! " 
 
 " Certainly ! " said Mr. Perkins. " Who is 
 Alfred ? "
 
 186 ©onrmalin's ®ime €:l)eqnes. 
 
 " Why, the — man with the revolver. I 
 thought you knew ! " 
 
 " Come, come," said the Manager, " there's 
 no man of that kind here, I assure you. Pull 
 yourself together, sir ; you're on board the 
 JBoomerang now ! " 
 
 " I know," said Peter, dolefully, — " I know 
 I am ! " 
 
 ■ He shut his eyes resignedly. He was about 
 to receive some other portion of his time-bal- 
 ance. If he could only hope that no fresh 
 complications would arise ! Would he meet 
 Miss Tyrrell or Miss Davenport next, he won- 
 dered, and how would they behave ? 
 
 " Haven't you had sleep enough yet ? " said 
 the Manager. " You're not more than half- 
 awake even now ! " 
 
 " Sleep ? " exclaimed Tourmalin, sitting up 
 and rubbing his eyes. " Why, you don't mean 
 to tell me I've been dreaming aU this time ? " 
 
 " I don't know about dreaming ; but I can 
 answer for your snoring. Why, you almost 
 droAvned the ship's band ! I knew what would 
 happen when you loould have two helpings of 
 curry at breakfast. Worst thing to take in the 
 world, especially if you don't walk it off !
 
 ®l)e ©cnottcmcnt. 187 
 
 Why, you've been the joke of the whole ship 
 for the last half-hour. I wish you could have 
 seen yourself, with your head hanging over 
 tlie arm of your chair and your mouth wide 
 open ! I thought at last it was only kind to 
 wake you up. Those two young ladies over 
 there have been in fits of laughter ! " 
 
 Peter picked up Buckle, which was lying 
 face downward on the deck. His own face 
 was very red, possibly from stooping, as he in- 
 quired : 
 
 " Er — which two young ladies ? " 
 
 " Can't tell you their names ; but those two 
 uncommonly nice-looking girls — one in white 
 and navy-blue, and the darker one in pink. 
 Dear me, I thought they would have died ! " 
 
 Even now they seemed to have the greatest 
 difficulty in controlling their countenances, for 
 happening just then to look round and catch 
 Peter's glance of confused and still somnolent 
 suspicion, they buried their faces in their hand- 
 kerchiefs once more, in agonies of suppressed 
 mirth. 
 
 And these were the two whom his dreaming 
 fancies had pictured as tenderly, desperately, 
 madly devoted to him ! The reality was de-
 
 188 ®0urmalin's ®ime (i.\)t(\ncs. 
 
 cidedlj disenchanting: tliey were very ordi- 
 nary girls, lie saw, after all. 
 
 "Well," said Mr. Perkins, "it's not far off 
 tiffin time now ; so, you see, you managed to 
 get through your extra time after all ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Peter, with a httle natural em- 
 barrassment ; " but I think, do you know, that, 
 on reflection, I — I woii^t deposit the extra 
 hours after all ! If you will kindly take back 
 the — the check-book," he added, feehng in his 
 pockets, " and give me the form I signed, we 
 will consider the arrangement canceled — eh ? " 
 
 " It's my belief," said the Manager, " that 
 your head isn't quite clear yet ; for, hang me 
 if I know what you're talking about! De- 
 posit ? check-book % form % What is it all 
 about?" 
 
 Peter colored more furiously than before. 
 
 " It was the curry," he said. " I wasn't 
 quite sure whether — but it's really too absurd 
 to explain. I am wide-awake now, at all 
 events ! " 
 
 He was awake now, and knew that no time- 
 bargain of this monstrous kind had ever been 
 actually effected, and all the wild events which 
 seemed to have taken whole months to accom-
 
 ®l)c CDcnottcmcnt. 189 
 
 plish themselves, were the work of a single 
 hour's indigestion! He was still a bachelor; 
 still engaged to Sophia : he had still to make 
 the acquaintance of Miss Tyrrell and Miss Dav- 
 enport, and endure the ordeal of remaining for 
 some weeks to come — to say nothing of the 
 extra hours — exposed to the peril of their fas- 
 cinations ! 
 
 But whatever happened now, it could not be 
 said, at least, that he had not received abun- 
 dant warning of the consequences which might 
 ensue from any yielding, however blameless or 
 defensible, on his part. 
 
 And Peter Tourmalin resolved that hence- 
 forth Buckle should monopolize liis attention.
 
 THE EPILOGUE. 
 
 Theke are always a few inquiring persons 
 who, at the conclusion of any story, insist 
 upon being told " what happened after that." 
 And if such a question is ever justified, it is 
 so in the case of a narrative that, as in the 
 present instance, ends almost at the precise 
 moment at which it began. 
 
 So it is not impossible that some readers 
 may be sufficiently interested to wish to know 
 the particular effect produced upon Peter Tour- 
 malin's subsequent conduct by a vision more 
 than usually complicated and connected. 
 
 Did he receive it, for example, as a solemnly 
 prophetic warning, and forswear all female 
 society while on the Boomerang ? or was he 
 rather prompted to prove its fallibility by 
 actual experience? 
 
 As to the motives which guided him, we are
 
 ®l)e aEpiloguc. 191 
 
 unable to speak with confidence, and they nmst 
 be left to be accounted for by the reader's 
 knowledge of human nature in general, and 
 Peter's, so far as it has been self-revealed by 
 his unconscious imagination in these pages, in 
 particular. 
 
 But the author is in a position to state with 
 certainty that, when Sophia and her mother 
 met the ship, as they duly did at Gibraltar, 
 nothing on Peter's part gave them the slight- 
 est ground for suspecting that he was on terms 
 of even the most distant acquaintanceslii|) with 
 either Miss Tyrrell or Miss Davenport, and 
 that the fact of his being far advanced in the 
 third volume of Buckle's History of Civilisa- 
 tion seemed to guarantee that he had employed 
 his syjare time on board the vessel both wisely 
 and well, 
 
 Nor did he get into any diihculties by circu- 
 lating gossip concerning any matron from Mel- 
 bourne, owing to the circumstance that there 
 was no lady passenger who at all answered the 
 description. She, like much else in his expe- 
 riences, was purely a creation of the curry. 
 
 Lastly, it may be added that Peter is now 
 married to his Sophia, and is far happier than
 
 192 SCourmalin's ®ime €l)cqiic6. 
 
 even lie could have expected. She tempers 
 her intellectuality out of consideration for his 
 mental barrenness ; and as yet he has never 
 found her society in the least oppressive, nor 
 has his errant fancy wandered back in any per- 
 fidious sense to the time he spent, when freed 
 from her supervision, on board the Boomer(Mig. 
 
 THE END.
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 
 STACK COLLECTION 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW. 
 
 A1J7J68 
 
 Ku
 
 UC SOUTHERN |Glg^^^^^^^^ 
 
 A A 001 424 186 3