V 
 
 LI£f>ARY 
 
 •■/WVEiiSlTY OF 
 CAilPORNIA 
 SAN DICdO
 
 PC
 
 lliat liave toeen referred to us: We flrntl tlie 
 author of The Hhavghraun was born -In Dublin, 
 Ireland, on tlie 2Ctli December, 1S22, and W. there- 
 tore 52 yeai-s old. In tS4l, when in his nineteenth 
 jear he published his first comedy, Loudon As- 
 surance, and its title page reads : 
 
 "LoKi'ON Assubance: A comedy in five acta, by 
 DionBoucicault. London, 1841." 
 
 He married, in 1852, Agnes Robertson, then an 
 obscure actress. They came to the United states 
 in 1S33, resided here for some years, returned to 
 England in I860 ; came back to this country in 
 18T2. During this period of thirty-four years, Mr. 
 Boucicault has beenSthe most laborious and 
 mcst successful of the literary men of the day. 
 He has written upwards of four hundred come- 
 dies and plays. Kecent law proceedings in Eug- 
 land revealed the fact that he settled in 1800, on 
 liis wife, an estate representing the amount of 
 her professional earnings. Colonel Forney has 
 described the mansion in London where Mrs. 
 Boucicault, sun-ounded by her family, dispenses 
 hospitality, while the busy B. buzzes I'ound the 
 United States, storing the hive at the Tate of 
 n50 000 a vear. Mr. Wallack is said to have paid 
 him $110,000 for a six months' engagement in ^'ew 
 York this year, and the Boston Theatre gave liloi 
 $29,0C0, for four weeks, according to the New York 
 Ilfrata. Mr. Boucicault is the author of Rij) \'an 
 Winlle, to which Mr. Jefferson OAves his large 
 fortune, and also of The streets of New Vork that 
 Frank Mavo calls his bmianza. Harper's U'eekhi 
 estimated the gross profits of Mr. Bouclcaulfs 
 four hundi-ed plays to have been nearly ten mill- 
 jons of dollars,
 
 FOUL "p L at: 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES READE 
 
 AND 
 
 DION BOUCICAULT, 
 
 HOUSEHOLD EDITION. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 FIELDS, OSGOOD, & CO., 
 
 SUCCESSORS TO TICKNOR AND FIELDS. 
 1869.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year i858, by 
 
 TICKNOR AND FIELDS, 
 
 in tlie Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 University Press : Welch, Bigelow, & Co., 
 Cambridge.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THERE are places which appear 
 at first sight inaccessible to ro- 
 mance; and such a place was Mr. 
 "Wardhxw's dining-room in Russell 
 Square. It was very large, had sickly 
 green walls, picked out with aldermen, 
 full length ; heavy maroon curtains; 
 mahogany chairs ; a turkey carpet an 
 inch thick : and was lighted with wax 
 candles only. 
 
 In the centre, bristling and gleam- 
 ing with silver and glass, was a round 
 table, at which fourteen could have 
 dined comfortably; and at opposite 
 sides of this table sat two gentlemen, 
 Avho looked as neat, grave, precise, 
 and unromantic, as the place ; Mer- 
 chant Wardlaw and his son. 
 
 Wardlaw senior was an elderly man, 
 tall, thin, iron-gray, with a round 
 head, a short, thick neck, a good, 
 brown eye, a square jowl that beto- 
 kened resolution, and a complexion so 
 sallow as to be almost cadaverous. 
 Hard as iron : but a certain stiff dig- 
 nit}' and respectability sat upon him, 
 and became him. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw resembled his 
 father in figure, but his mother in 
 face. He had, and has, hay-colored 
 hair, a forehead singularly white and 
 delicate, pale blue eyes, largish ears, 
 finely chiselled features, the under lip 
 much shorter than the upper ; his 
 chin oval .and pretty, but somewhat 
 receding ; his complexion beautiful. 
 In short, what nineteen people out of 
 twenty would call a handsome young- 
 man, and think they had described him. 
 
 Both the TVardlaws were in full 
 dress, according to the invariable cus- 
 tom of the house ; and sat in a dead 
 silence, that seemed natural to the 
 great, sober room. 
 
 This, however, was not for want of 
 a topic ; on the contrary, they had a 
 matter of great importance to discuss, 
 and in fact this was why they dined 
 tete-a-tete: but their tongues were tied 
 for the present ; in the first place, 
 there stood in the middle of the table 
 an epcrgne, the size of a Putney lau- 
 rel-tree ; neither Wardlaw could well 
 see the other, witliout craning out his 
 neck like a rifleman from behind his 
 tree ; and then there were three live 
 siippressors of confidential intercourse, 
 two gorgeous footmen, and a sombre, 
 sublime, and, in one word, episcopal, 
 butler ; all three went about as softly 
 as cats after a robin, and conjured one 
 plate away, and smoothly insinuated 
 another, and seemed models of grave 
 discretion : but were known to be all 
 ears, and bound by a secret oath to 
 carry down each crumb of dialogue to 
 the servants' hall, for curious dissec- 
 tion, and boisterous I'idicule. 
 
 At last, however, those three smug 
 hypocrites retired, and, by good luck, 
 transferred their suflrocating epcrgne 
 to the sideboard ; so then father and 
 son looked at one another with that 
 conscious air which naturally precedes 
 a tO|)ic of interest ; and Wardlaw 
 senior invited his son to try a certain 
 decanter of rare old port, by way of 
 preliminary. 
 
 While the young man fills his glass, 
 hurl we in his antecedents.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 At school till fifteen, and then clerk 
 in liis father's office till twenty-two, 
 and showed an aptitude so remarkable, 
 that John Wardlaw, who was getting 
 tired, determined, sooner or later, to 
 put the reins of government into his 
 hands. But he conceived a desire 
 that the future head of his office 
 should be an university man. So he 
 announced his resolution, and to Ox- 
 ford went young Wardlaw, though he 
 had not looked at Greek or Latin for 
 seven years. He was, however, fur- 
 nislied with a private tutor, under 
 whom he recovered lost ground rajjid- 
 ly. The Reverend Robert Penfold 
 was a first-class man, and had the 
 gift of teaching. The house of Ward- 
 law had jjecnliar claims on hhn, for 
 he was the son of old Michael Penfold, 
 AVardlaw's cashier ; he learned from 
 young Wardlaw the stake he was 
 playing for, and, instead of merely 
 giving him one hour's lecture ])er day, 
 as he did to his other pupils, he used 
 to come to his rooms at all hours, and 
 force him to read, by reading with 
 him. He also stood his friend in a 
 serious emergency. Young Wardlaw, 
 3'ou must know, was blessed or cursed 
 Avith Mimicry; his powers in that 
 way really seemed to have no limit, 
 for" he could imitate any sound you 
 liked with his A'oice, and any form 
 with his pen or pencil. Now, we 
 promise you, he was one man under 
 his father's eye, and another down at 
 Oxford ; so, one night, this gentle- 
 man, being warm with wine, opens 
 his window, and, seeing a group of 
 undergraduates chattering and smok- 
 ing in the quadrangle, imitates the 
 peculiar grating tones of Mr. Cham- 
 ])ion, vice-president of the college, and 
 gives them various reasons why they 
 ouirht to disperse to their rooms and 
 study. " But, perhaps," says he, in 
 conclusion, "you are too blind drunk 
 to read Bosh in crooked letters by 
 candle-light ? In that case — " And 
 he then gave them some very naughty 
 ailvice how to jmss tl>e evening ; still 
 in the exact tones of Mr. Champion, 
 who was a very, very strict moralist ; 
 
 and this unexpected sally of wit 
 caused shrieks of laughter, and might- 
 ily tickled all the hearers, except 
 Champion ipse, who was listening 
 and disapproving at another window. 
 He complained to the president. 
 Then the ingenious Wardlaw, not 
 having come down to us in a direct 
 line from Bayard, conmiitted a great 
 mistake, — he denied it. 
 
 It was brought home to him, and 
 the president, who had laughed in his 
 sleeve at the practical joke, looked 
 very grave at the falsehood ; Rustica- 
 tion was talked of and even Expul- 
 sion. Then ^^'ardlaw came sorrow- 
 fully to Penfold, aud said to him, " I 
 must have been awfulh' cut, for I 
 don't remember all that ; I had been 
 wining at Christchurch. I do re- 
 member slanging the fellows, but how 
 can I tell what I said ? I say, old 
 fellow, it will be a had job for me if 
 they expel me, or even rusticate me ; 
 my fi\ther will never forgive me ; I 
 shall be his clerk, but never his part- 
 ner ; and then he will find out what a 
 lot I owe down here. I 'm done for ! 
 I 'm done for ! " 
 
 Penfold uttered not a word, but 
 grasped his hand, and went off" to the 
 president, and said his pujiil had 
 wined at Christchurch, and ci)uld not 
 be expected to remember minutely. 
 Mimicry was, unfortunately, a habit 
 with him. He then pleaded for the 
 milder construction, with such zeal 
 and eloquence, that the high-minded 
 scholar he was addressing admitted 
 that construction was possible, and 
 therefore must be received. So the 
 affair ended in a written apology to 
 Mr. Champion, which had all the 
 smoothness and neatness of a mer- 
 chant's letter. Arthur Wardlaw was 
 already a master in that style. 
 
 Six months after this, and one fort- 
 night before the actual commence- 
 ment of our tale, Arthur Wardlaw, 
 well crammed by Pentbld, went up 
 for his final examination, throbbing 
 with anxiety. He passed; and was 
 so grateful to his tutor that, when the 
 advowsou of a small living near Ox-
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 foni came into the market, he asked 
 Wardlaw senior to lend Kobert Fcn- 
 fold a snm of money, mnch more than 
 Avas needed : and ^\'ardla^v senior de- 
 clined without a moment's hesitation. 
 This slight sketch will serve as a 
 key to the dialogue it has postponed, 
 and to subsequent incidents. 
 
 "Well, Arthur, and so you have 
 really taken your degree ? " 
 
 " No, sir ;' but I have passed my 
 examination : the degree follows as a 
 matter of course, — that is a mere 
 question of fees." 
 
 " Oh ! Then now I have some- 
 thing to say to you. Try one more 
 glass of the '47 'jiort. Stop ; you '11 
 excuse me ; I am a man of business ; 
 I don't doubt your word ; Heaven 
 forbid ! but, do you happen to have 
 any document you can produce in 
 further confirmation of what you 
 state ; namely, that you have passed 
 your final examination at the Univer- 
 sity ? " 
 
 "Certainly, sir"; replied young 
 Wardlaw. " My Testamur." 
 
 " What is that ? " 
 
 The young gentleman put his hand 
 in his pocket, and produced his Testa- 
 mur, or " We bear witness " ; a short 
 printed document in Latin, which 
 may be thus translated : — 
 
 " We bear ivitness that Arthur Ward- 
 law, of St. Luke's College, has answered 
 our questions in humane letters. 
 
 " George Richardson, 
 "Arthur Smythe, 
 " Edward Merivale, 
 
 " Examiners." 
 
 Wardlaw senior took it, laid it be- 
 side him on the table, inspected it 
 with his double eye-glass, and, not 
 knowing a word of Latin, was might- 
 ily impressed, and his respect for his 
 son rose 40 or 45 per cent. 
 
 " Very well, sir," said he. " Now 
 hsten to me. Perh.aps it was an old 
 man's fancj^ ; but I have often seen 
 in the world what a stamp these Uni- 
 versities put upon a man. To send 
 
 you back from commerce to Latin 
 and Greek, at two and-twenty, was 
 trying you rather hard ; it was trying 
 you doubly ; your obedience, and 
 your ability into the bargain. Well, 
 sir, you have stood the trial, and I am 
 proud of you. And so now it is my 
 turn : from this day and from this 
 hour, look on yourself as my partner 
 in the old-established house of Ward- 
 law. My balance-sheet shall be pre- 
 pared immediately, and the partuer- 
 siiip deed drawn. You will enter on 
 a flourishing concern, sir ; and you 
 will virtually conduct it, in written 
 communication with me ; for I have 
 had flve-and-forty years of it : and 
 then my liver, you know ! Watson 
 advises me strongly to leave my desk, 
 and try country air, and rest from 
 business and its cares." 
 
 He paused a moment ; and the 
 young man drew a long breath, like 
 one who was in the act of being re- 
 lieved of some terrible weight. 
 
 As for the old gentleman, he was 
 not observing his son just then, but 
 thinking of his own career ; a certain 
 expression of pain and regret came 
 over his features ; but he shook it off 
 with manly dignity. " Come, come," 
 said he, " this is the law of Nature, 
 and must be submitted to with a good 
 grace. Wardlaw junior, fill your 
 glass." At the same time he stood 
 up and said, stoutly, " The setting 
 sun drinks to the rising sun " ; but 
 could not maintain that artificial 
 style, and ended with, " God bless 
 you, my boy, and may you stick to 
 business ; avoid speculation, as I have 
 done ; and so hand the concern down 
 healthy to your son, as my father 
 there (pointing to a picture) handed 
 it down to me, and I to you." 
 
 His voice wavered slightly in utter- 
 ing this benediction ; but only for a 
 moment : he then sat quietly, down, 
 and sipped his wine composedly. 
 
 Not so the other : his color came 
 and went violently all the time his 
 father was speaking, and, when he 
 ceased, he sank into his cliair with 
 another sigh deeper than the last, and
 
 G 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 two half-hysterical tears came to his 
 pule cyus. 
 
 But presently, feeling he was ex- 
 pected to say something, he struggled 
 against all this mysterious emotion, 
 and faltered out that he should not 
 fear tiic responsibility, if he might 
 have constant recourse to his father 
 for advice. 
 
 " Wliy, of course," was the reply. 
 " My country house is hut a mile 
 from the station : you can telegraph 
 for me in any ease of imjiortance." 
 
 " When would you wish me to 
 commence my new duties i " 
 
 " Let me see, it will take six weeks 
 to prepare a balance-sheet, such as 
 I could be content to submit to 
 an incoming partner. Say two 
 months." 
 
 Young Wardlaw's countenance fell. 
 
 " Meantime you shall travel on the 
 Continent and enjoy yourself." 
 
 " Thank you," said young Ward- 
 law, mechanically, and fell into a 
 bi'own study. 
 
 The room now returned to what 
 seemed its natural state. And its 
 silence continued until it was broken 
 from without. 
 
 A sharp knocking was heard at the 
 street door, and resounded across the 
 marlile hall. 
 
 The Wardlaws looked at one anoth- 
 er in some little surprise. 
 
 " I have invited nobody," said the 
 elder. 
 
 Some time elapsed, and then a 
 footman made iiis appearance, and 
 brought in a card. 
 
 " Mr. Cln-istopher Adams." 
 
 Now that Mr. Christoplier Adams 
 should call on John Wardlaw, in his 
 private room, at nine o'clock in the 
 evening, seemed to that merchant 
 irregular, presumptuous, and mon- 
 strous. " Tell hiui he will find me 
 at my place of business to-morrow, as 
 usual," said he, knitting his brows. 
 
 The footman went off with this 
 message ; and, soon after, raised 
 voices were heard in the hall, and the 
 episcopal butler entered tlie I'oom 
 with an injured countenance. 
 
 " He says he must see you ; he is 
 in great anxiety." 
 
 " Yes, 1 an) in great anxiety," said 
 a (juavering voice at his elbow ; and 
 Mr. Adams actually pushed by the 
 butler, and stood, hat in hand, in 
 those sacred precincts. "Pray excuse 
 me, sir," said he, " but it is very se- 
 rious ; I can't be easy in my inind 
 till I have put you a question." 
 
 "This is very extraordinary con- 
 duct, sir," said Mr. Wardlaw. "Do 
 vou think I do business here, and at 
 all hours ? " 
 
 " no, sir : it is my own business. 
 I am come to ask j'ou a very serious 
 question. I could n't wait till morn- 
 ing with such a doubt on my mind." 
 
 " Well, sir, I repeat this is irreg- 
 ular and extraordinary ; but as you 
 are here, pray what is the matter?" 
 He then dismissed the lingering butler 
 with a look. Mr. Adams cast uneasy 
 glances on young Wardlaw. 
 
 " O," said the elder, " you can 
 speak before him. This is my part- 
 ner; that is to say, he will be as soon 
 as the balance-sheet can be prepared, 
 and the deed drawn. Wardlaw jun- 
 ior, this is Mr. Adams, a very re- 
 spectable bill discounter." 
 
 The two men bowed to each other, 
 and Arthur Wardlaw sat down mo- 
 tionless. 
 
 " Sir, did you draw a note of hand 
 to-day ■? " inquired Adams of the eld- 
 er merchant. 
 
 " I dare say I did. Did you dis- 
 coimt one signed by me 1 " 
 
 " Yes, sir, we did." 
 
 " W^ell, sir, you have only to pre- 
 sent it at maturity. Wardlaw and 
 Son will provide for it, I dare say." 
 This with the loft}' nonchalance of a 
 rich man, who had never broken an 
 engagement in his life. 
 
 " Ah, that I know they will if it 
 is all right ; but suppose it is nof " 
 " What d' ye mean 1 " asked Ward- 
 law, with some astonishment. 
 
 " O, nothing, sir ! It bears your 
 signature, tiiat is good for twenty 
 times the amount ; and it is indorsed 
 by your cashier. Only what makes
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 me a little uneasy, your bills used to 
 be ahvays on your own (brms, anil so 
 I told my partner ; he discounted it. 
 Gentlemen, I wish you would just 
 look at it." 
 
 " Of course we Avill look at it. 
 Show it Arthur first ; his eyes are 
 younger than mine." 
 
 Mr. Adams took out a large bill- 
 book, extracted the note of hand, 
 and passed it across the table to 
 Wardlaw junior. He took it up with 
 a sort of shiver, and bent his head 
 very low over it ; then handed it 
 back in silence. 
 
 Adams took it to Wardlaw senior, 
 and laid it before him, by the side of 
 Arthur's Testamur. 
 
 The merchant inspected it with his 
 glasses. 
 
 " The writing is mine, apparent- 
 ly." 
 
 " I am very glad of it," said the 
 bill-broker, eagerly. 
 
 " Stop a bit," 'said Mr. Wardlaw. 
 " Why, what is this 1 For two thou- 
 sand pounds ! and, as you say, not 
 my form. I have signed no note for 
 two thousand pounds this week. 
 Dated yesterday. You have not 
 cashed it, I hope 1 " 
 
 " I am sorry to say my partner 
 has." 
 
 " Well, sir, not to keep you in sus- 
 pense, the thing is not worth the 
 stamp it is written on." 
 
 " Mr. Wardlaw ! — Sir ! — Good 
 heavens ! Then it is as I feared. It 
 is a forgery." 
 
 " I should be puzzled to find any 
 other name for it. You need not 
 look so pale, Arthur. We can't 
 help some clever scoundrel imitating 
 our hands ; and as for you, Adams, 
 you ought to have been more cau- 
 tious." 
 
 " But, sir, your cashier's name is 
 Penfold," faltered the holder, cling- 
 ing to a straw. " May he not have 
 drawn — is the indorsement forged 
 as well 1 " 
 
 j\Ir. Wardlaw examined the back 
 of the bill, and looked puzzled. 
 " No," said he. " My cashier's name 
 
 is Michael Penfold, but this is in- 
 dorsed ' Robert Penfold.' Do you 
 hear, Arthur 1 Wiiy, what is the 
 matter with you 1 You look like a 
 ghost. I say there is your tutor's 
 name at the back of this forged note. 
 This is very strange. Just look, and 
 tell me who wrote these two words 
 ' Eobert Penfold ' ? " 
 
 Young Wardlaw took the docu- 
 ment, and tried to examine it calmh', 
 but it shook visibly in his hand, and 
 a cold moisture gathered on his brow. 
 His pale eyes roved to and fro in a 
 very remarkable way ; and he was so 
 long before he said anything, that 
 both the other persons present began 
 to eye him with wonder. 
 
 At last he faltered out, "This 
 ' Robert Penfold ' seems to me very 
 like his own handwriting. But then 
 the rest of the writing is equally like 
 yours, sir. I am sure Robert Pen- 
 fold never did anything wrong. Mr. 
 Adams, please oblige me. Let this 
 go no further till I have seen him, 
 and asked him whether he indorsed 
 it." 
 
 " Now don't you be in a hurry," 
 said the elder Wardlaw. " The first 
 question is, who received the mon- 
 ey ? " 
 
 Mr. Adams replied that it was a 
 respectable - looking man, a young 
 clergyman. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Wardlaw, with a 
 world of meaning. 
 
 "Father!" .said young Wardlaw, 
 imploringly, " for my sake, say no 
 more to-night. Robert Penfold is 
 incapable of a dishonest act." 
 
 " It becomes your years to think 
 so, young man. But I have lived 
 long enough to see what crimes re- 
 spectable men are betrayed into in 
 the hoitr of temptation. And, now I 
 think of it, this Robert Penfold is in 
 want of money. Did Ive not ask me 
 for a loan of two thousands pounds ? 
 Was not that the very sum? Can't 
 you answer me "? Why, the applica- 
 tion came tinough you." 
 
 Receiving no reply from his son, 
 but a sort of agonized stare, he took
 
 8 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 out his pencil and wrote down Robert 
 rLMifold's iuidress. This he handed 
 tlie bill-broker, and jjave him some 
 advice in a wliisper, which Mr. Cliris- 
 toptier Adams received with a pro- 
 fusion of tiianks, and liustlcd away, 
 leaving Wardhiw senior excited and 
 indignant, \Vardhvw junior ghastly 
 pale and almost stupetied. 
 
 Scarcely a word was spoken for 
 some minutes, and then the younger 
 man l)roke out suddenly : " Robert 
 Penfohl is the best friend I ever 
 had ; I should have been expelled 
 but for him, and I should never 
 have earned that Testamur but for 
 him." 
 
 The old merchant interrupted him. 
 " You exaggerate : but, to tell the 
 trutii, I am sorry now I did not lend 
 him the money you asked for. For, 
 mark my words, in a moment of 
 temptation, that miserable young 
 man has forged my name, and will be 
 convicted of the felony, and punished 
 accordingly." 
 
 " No, no : O, God forbid ! " shrieked 
 young Wai-dlaw. " I could n't bear 
 it. if he did, he must have intended 
 to replace it. I must sec him ; I will 
 see iiim directly." He got up all in 
 a hurry, and was going to Penfold to 
 warn liim, and get him out of the way 
 till the money should be replaced. 
 But his father started up at the same 
 moment and forbade him, in accents 
 that he had ne^•cr yet been able to 
 resist. 
 
 " Sit down, sir, this instant," said 
 the old man, with terrible sternness. 
 " Sit down, I say, or you will never 
 be a partner of mine. Justice must 
 take its course. What business and 
 what right have we to protect a felon 1 
 I would not take j/oiir part if you were 
 one. Indeed it is too late now, for 
 the detectives will be with him before 
 you could reach him. I gave Adams 
 his address." 
 
 At this last piece of information 
 AVardlaw junior leaned his head on the 
 table, and groaned aloud, and a cold 
 perspiration gathered in beads upon 
 his white forehead. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 That same evening sat over their 
 tea, in Norfolk Street, Strand, anoth- 
 er couple, wiio were also father and 
 son ; hut, in this pair, the Wardlaws 
 were reversed. Michael I'eufold was 
 a reverend, gentle creature, with 
 white hair, blue eyes, and great timid- 
 ity ; why, if a stranger put to him a 
 question, he used to look all round 
 the room before he ventured to an- 
 swer. 
 
 Robert, his son, was a young man, 
 with a large brown eye, a mellow 
 voice, square shoulders, and a prompt 
 and vigorous manner. Cricketer. 
 Scholar. Parson. 
 
 They were talking hopefully to- 
 gether over a living Robert was go- 
 ing to buy : it was near Oxford, he 
 said, and would not prevent his con- 
 tinning to take pupils. " But, fa- 
 ther," said he, " it will be a place to 
 take my wife to if I ever have one ; 
 and, meantime, I hope you will run 
 down now and then, Saturday to 
 Monday." 
 
 " That I will; Robert. Ah ! how 
 proud she would have been to hear 
 you preach ; it was always her dream, 
 poor thing." 
 
 " Let us think she can hear me," 
 said Robert. " And I have got you 
 still ; the proceeds of this living will 
 help me to lodge you more comforta- 
 bly." 
 
 " You are very good, Robert : I 
 would rather see you spend it upon 
 yourself; but, dear me, what a nnm- 
 agcr you must be to dress so beauti- 
 fully as you do, and send your old fa- 
 ther presents as you do, and yet put 
 by fourteen hundred pounds to buy 
 this living." 
 
 " You are mistaken, sir, I have 
 only saved four hundred ; the odd 
 thousand — But that is a secret for 
 the present." 
 
 " O, I am not inquisitive : I never 
 was." 
 
 They then chatted about things of 
 no im]>ortance whatever, and the old 
 gentleman was just lighting his candle
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 to go to bed, when a visitor was ush- 
 ered into the room. 
 
 The Peufolds looked a little sur- 
 prised, but not much. They hud no 
 street door all to themselves ; no 
 liveried dragons to interpose between 
 them and unseasonable or unwelcome 
 visitors. 
 
 The man was well dressed, with one 
 exception ; he wore a gold chain. 
 He had a hooked nose, and a black, 
 piercing eye. He stood at the door 
 and observed every person and thing 
 in the room minutely before he spoke 
 a word. 
 
 Then he said, quietly, "Mr. Mi- 
 chael Penfold, I believe." 
 
 " At your service, sir." 
 
 " And Mr. Robert Penfold." 
 
 "I am Robert Penfold. What is 
 your business ? " 
 
 "Pray is the ' Robert Penfold ' at 
 tlie back of this note your writing ? " 
 
 " Certainly it is ; they would not 
 cash it without that." 
 
 " 0, you got the money, then ? " 
 
 " Of course I did." 
 
 " You have not parted with it, have 
 you ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " All the better." He then turned 
 to Michael, and looked at him ear- 
 nestly a moment. " The fact is, sir," 
 said he, " there is a little irregularity 
 about this bill, which must be ex- 
 plained, or yoitr son might be called 
 on to refund the cash." 
 
 " Irregularity about — a bill ? " 
 cried Michael Penfold, in dismay. 
 " Who is the drawer 1 Let me see it. 
 O dear me, something wrong about a 
 bill indorsed by you, Robert 1 " and 
 the old man began to shake piteous- 
 
 ly- 
 
 " Why, father," said Robert, " what 
 are you afraid of? If the bill is ir- 
 regular, I can but return the money. 
 It is in the house." 
 
 " The best way will be for Mr." 
 Robert Penfold to go at once with me 
 to the bill-broker ; he lives but a few 
 doors off. And you, sir, must stay 
 here, and be responsible for the funds, 
 till we return." 
 
 Robert Penfold took his hat direct- 
 ly, and went off with this mysterious 
 visitor. 
 
 They had not gone many steps, 
 when Robert's companion stopped, 
 and, getting in front of him, said, 
 " We can settle this matter here." 
 At the same time a policeman crossed 
 the way, and joined them ; and an- 
 other man, who was in fact a police- 
 man in plain clothes, emerged from a 
 doorway, and stood at Robert Pen- 
 fold's back. 
 
 The Detective, having thus sur- 
 rounded him, threw off disguise. 
 " My man," said he, " I ought to have 
 done this job in your house. But I 
 looked at the worthy old gentleman, 
 and his gray hairs. I thought I 'd 
 spare him all I could. I have a war- 
 rant to arrest you for forgery ! " 
 
 " Forgery ! arrest me for forgery ! " 
 said Robert Penfold, with some 
 amazement, but little emotion ; for 
 he hardly seemed to take it in, in all 
 its horrible significance. 
 
 The next moment, however, he 
 turned pale, and almost staggered un- 
 der the blow. 
 
 " We had better go to Mr. Ward- 
 law," said he. " t entreat yon to go 
 to him with me." 
 
 " Can't be done," said the Detec- 
 tive. " Wardlaw has nothing to do 
 with it. The bill is stopped. You 
 are arrested by the gent that cashed 
 it. Here is the warrant ; will you go 
 quietly with us, or must I put the 
 darbies on ? " 
 
 Robert was violently agitated. 
 " There is no need to arrest me," he 
 cried ; " I shall not run from my ac- 
 cuser. Hands off, I say. I 'm a 
 clergyman of the Church of England, 
 and you shall not lay hands on me." 
 
 But one of the policemen did lay 
 hands on him. Then the Reverend 
 Robert Penfold shook him furiously 
 off, and, with one active bound, sprang 
 into the middle of the road. 
 
 The officers went at him incau- 
 tiously, and the head-detective, as he 
 rushed forward, received a heavy blow 
 on the neck and jaw, that sounded
 
 10 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 along the street, and sent him rolling 
 in the mud ; this was I'ollowcd hy a 
 quick sufcession of staggering facers, 
 administered light and Icfr, on the 
 eyes and noses of the subordinates. 
 These, however, tliough bruised and 
 bleeding, succeeded at las! in grappling 
 their man, and all came to the ground 
 together, and tiiere struggled furious- 
 ly ; every window in the street was 
 open by this time, and at one the 
 white hair and reverend face of 
 Michael Pcnfold looked out on this 
 desperate and unseemly struggle, 
 with hands that beat the air in help- 
 less agony, and inarticulate cries of 
 teri'or. 
 
 The Detective got up and sat upon 
 Robert Penfold's chest ; and at last 
 the three forced the handcufts upon 
 him, and took him in a cab to the 
 station-house. 
 
 Next day, before the magistrate, 
 Wardlaw senior proved the note was 
 a forgery, and Mr. Adams's partner 
 swore to the prisoner as the person 
 who had presented and indorsed the 
 note. The officers attended, two 
 with black eyes apiece, and one with 
 his jaw bound up, and two sound 
 teeth in his pocket, which had been 
 driven from their sockets by the pris- 
 oner in his desperate attempt to es- 
 cape. Their evidence hurt the prison- 
 er, and the magistrate refused bail. 
 
 The Reverend Robert Penfold was 
 committed to prison, to be tried at 
 the Central Criminal Court on a 
 charge of felony. 
 
 Wardlaw senior returned home, 
 and told Wardlaw junior, who said 
 not a word. He soon received a letter 
 from Robert Penlbld, which agitated 
 him greatly, and he promised to go 
 to the prison and see him. 
 
 But he never went. 
 
 He was very miserable, a prey to 
 an inward struggle. He dared not 
 offend his father on the eve of being 
 made partner. Yet his heart bled 
 for Eobcrt Penfold. 
 
 He did what might perhaps have 
 been expected from that pule eye and 
 receding chin, — he temporized. He I 
 
 said to himself, " Before that horrible 
 trial comes on, I shall be the house 
 of Wardlaw, and able to draw a check 
 for tliousands. I 'II buy off Adams 
 at any price, and hush up the whole 
 matter." 
 
 So he hoped, and hoped. But the 
 accountant was slow, the public pros- 
 ecutor unusually quick, and, to young 
 Wardlaw's agony, the partnership 
 deed was not ready when an implor- 
 ing letter was put into his hands, 
 urging him, by all that men hold sa- 
 cred, to attend at the court as the 
 prisoner's witness. 
 
 This letter almost drove young 
 Wardlaw mad. He went to Adams, 
 and entreated him not to carry the 
 matter into court. But Adams was 
 inexoiablc. He had got his money, 
 but would be revenged for the fright. 
 
 Baffled here, young Wardlaw went 
 down to Oxford and shut himself up 
 in his own room, a prey to fear and 
 remorse. He sported his oak, and 
 never went out. All his exercise was 
 that of a wild beast in its den, walk- 
 ing restlessly up and down. 
 
 But all his caution did not prevent 
 the prisoner's solicitor from getting to 
 him. One morning, at seven o'clock, 
 a clerk slipped in at the heels of his 
 scout, and, coming to young Ward- 
 law's bedside, awoke him out of an 
 uneasy slumber by serving him with 
 a subpoena to appear as Robert Pen- 
 fold's witness. 
 
 This last stroke finished him. His 
 bodily health gave way under his 
 mental distress. Gastric fever set in, 
 and he was lying tossing and raving 
 in delirium, while Robert Penfold was 
 being tried at the Central Criminal 
 Court. 
 
 The trial occupied six hours, and 
 could easily be made rather interest- 
 ing. But, for various reasons, with 
 which it would not be good taste to 
 trouble the reader, we decide to skim 
 it. 
 
 The indictment contained two 
 counts ; one for forging the note of 
 hand, the other for uttering it, know- 
 ing it to be forged.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 11 
 
 On the first count, the Crown was 
 weak, and liad to encounter the evi- 
 dence of Undercliff, the distinguished 
 Expert, who swore that the hand 
 which wrote "Robert Penfold" was 
 not, in his opinion, the hand that had 
 written tlie body of the instrument. 
 He gave many minute reasons, in 
 support of tills : and nothing of any 
 weight was advanced contra. The 
 judge directed the jury to acquit the 
 prisoner on that count. 
 
 But, on the charge of uttering, the 
 evidence was clear, and on the ques- 
 tion of knowledge, it was, perhaps, a 
 disadvantage to the prisoner that he 
 Avas tried in England, and could not 
 be heard in person, as he could have 
 been in a foreign coin-t ; above all, 
 his resistance to the officers eked out 
 tlie presumption that he knew the 
 note had been forged by some person 
 or other, who was probably his accom- 
 plice. 
 
 The absence of his witness. Ward- 
 law junior, was severely commented 
 on by his counsel ; indeed, he ap- 
 pealed to the judge to commit the 
 said Wardlaw for contempt of court. 
 But Wardlaw senior was recalled, and 
 swore that he had left his son in a 
 burning fever, not expected to live : 
 and declared, with genuine emotion, 
 that nothing but a high sense of pub- 
 lic duty had brought him hither from 
 his dying son's bedside. He also 
 told the court that Arthur's inabil- 
 ity to clear his friend had really 
 been the first cause of his illness, 
 from which he was not expected to 
 recover. 
 
 The jury consulted together a long 
 time; and, at last, brought in a ver- 
 dict of " Guilty " ; but recommend- 
 ed him to mercy, on grounds which 
 might fairly have been alleged in fa- 
 vor of his innocence ; but, if guilty, 
 ratlier aggravated his crime. 
 
 Then" an officer of the court in- 
 quired, in a sort of chant or recita- 
 tivo, whether the prisoner had any- 
 thmg to say why judgment should 
 not be given in accordance with the 
 verdict. 
 
 It is easy to divest words of their 
 meaning by false intonation ; and 
 ]irisoners in general receive this bit 
 of singsong in dead silence. For 
 why? the chant conveys no idea to 
 their ears, and they would as soou 
 think of replying to the notes of a 
 cuckoo. 
 
 But the Reverend Robert Penfold 
 was in a keen agony that sharpened 
 all his senses ; he caught the sense of 
 the words in spite of the speaker, and 
 clung wildly to tlie straw that monot- 
 onous machine held out. " My lord ! 
 my lord ! " he cried, " I '11 tell you 
 tlie real reason why young Wardlaw 
 is not here." 
 
 The judge put up his hand with a 
 gesture that enforced silence : " Pris- 
 oner," said he, " I cannot go back to 
 facts ; the jury have dealt with them. 
 Judgment can be arrested only ou 
 grounds of law. On these you can be 
 heard. But, if you have none to offer, 
 you must be silent, and submit to 
 your sentence." He tiien, without a 
 pause, proceeded to point out the hei- 
 nous character of the offence, but ad- 
 mitted there was one mitigating cir- 
 cumstance ; and, in conclusion, he 
 condemned the culprit to five years' 
 penal servitude. 
 
 At this the poor wretch uttered a 
 cry of anguish that was fearful, and 
 clutched the dock convulsively. 
 
 Now a prisoner rarely speaks to a 
 judge without revolting him by bad 
 law, or bad logic, or hot words. But 
 this wild cry was innocent of all these, 
 and went straight from the heart in 
 the dock to the heart on the judgment- 
 seat. And so his lordship's voice 
 trembled for a moment, and then be- 
 came firm again, but solemn and hu- 
 mane. " But," said he, " my experi- 
 ence tells me this is your first crime, 
 and may possibly be your last. I 
 shall therefore use my influence that 
 you may not be associated with more 
 liardened criminals, but may be sent 
 out of this country to another, where 
 you may begin life afresh, and, in the 
 course of years, efface this dreadful 
 stain. Give me hopes of you ; begin
 
 12 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 your repentance where now you stand, 
 by blaming yourself, and no otlier 
 man. No man constrained you to 
 utter a forged note, and to receive the 
 money ; it was found in your posses- 
 sion. For such an act there can be 
 no defence in law, morality, or relig- 
 ion." 
 
 These words overpowered the cul- 
 prit. He burst out crying with great 
 violence. 
 
 But it did not last long. He be- 
 came strangely composed all of a sud- 
 den ; and said, " God forgive all 
 concerned in this — but one — but 
 one." 
 
 He then bowed respectfully, and 
 like a gentleman, to the judge and 
 the jury, and walked out of the dock 
 with the air of a man who had parted 
 with emotion, and would march to 
 the gallows now without flinching. 
 
 The counsel for the Crown required 
 that the forged document should be 
 impounded. 
 
 " I was about to make the same 
 demand," said the prisoner's counsel. 
 
 The judge snubbed them both, and 
 said it was a matter of course. 
 
 Robert Penfold spent a year in sep- 
 arate confinement, and then, to cure 
 him of its salutary effect (if any), was 
 sent on board the hulk " Vengeance," 
 and was herded with the greatest mis- 
 creants in creation. They did not 
 reduce him to their level, but the}' in- 
 jured his mind . and, before half his 
 sentence had expired, he sailed for a 
 penal colony, a man with a hot coal 
 in his bosom, a creature imbittered, 
 poisoned ; hoping little, believing- lit- 
 tle, fearing little, and hating much. 
 
 He took with liim the prayer-book 
 his mother had given him when he 
 was ordained deacon. But he sehlom 
 read beyond the fly-leaf : there the 
 poor lady had written at large her 
 mother's heart, and her jjious soul as- 
 piring heavenwards for her darling 
 son. This, wlien all seemed darkest, 
 he would sometimes run to with moist 
 eyes : for be was sure of iiis mother's 
 love, but almost doubted the justice 
 of his God. 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 j\Ir. "Wardlaw went down to his 
 son, and nursed him. He kept the 
 newspapers from him, and, on his fe- 
 ver abating, had iiim conveyed by 
 easy stages to the seaside, and then 
 sent him abroad. 
 
 The young man obeyed in gloomy 
 silence. He never asked after Rob- 
 ert Penfold, now ; never mentioned 
 his name. He seemed, somehow, 
 thankful to be controlled mind and 
 body. 
 
 But, before he had been abroad a 
 month, he wrote for leave to return 
 iiome and to throw himself into busi- 
 ness. There was, for once, a nervous 
 impatience in his letters, and his fiither. 
 who pitied him deeply, and was more 
 than ever inclined to reward and in- 
 dulge him, yielded readily enough ; 
 and, on his arrival, signed the part- 
 nership deed, and, Polonius-like, gave 
 him much good counsel ; then retired 
 to his country scat. 
 
 At first he used to run up every 
 three days, and examine the day-book 
 and ledger, and advise his junior ; but 
 these visits soon became fewer, and at 
 last he did little more than correspond 
 occasionally. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw held the reins, and 
 easily paid his Oxford debts out of 
 the assets of the firm. Not being 
 happy in his mind, he threw himself 
 into commerce with feverish zeal, and 
 very soon extended the operations of 
 the house. 
 
 One of his first acts of authority 
 was to send for ISIichacl Penfold into 
 his room. Now poor old ^Michael, 
 ever since his son's misfortune, as he 
 called it, had crept to his desk like a 
 culprit, expecting every day to be dis- 
 charged. When he received this 
 summons he gave a sigh and went 
 slowly to the young merchant. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw looked up at his 
 entrance, then looked down again, and 
 said coldly, " ]Mr Penfold, you have 
 been a faithful servant to us many 
 years ; I raise your salary £ 50 a year, 
 and you will keep tlie ledger."
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 13 
 
 The old man was dumfoundered at 
 first, and then began to give vent to his 
 surprise and gratitude ; but Wardlaw 
 cut him short, ahnost fiereely. " There, 
 there, there," said he, without raising 
 his eyes, " let me hear no more about 
 it, and, above all, never speak to me of 
 that cursed bu^iness. It was no fault 
 of yours, nor mine neither. There — 
 go — I Avant no thanks. Do you 
 hear ? leave me, Mr. Tenfold, if you 
 please." 
 
 The okl man bowed low and re- 
 tired, wondering much at his employ- 
 er's goodness, and a little at his irri- 
 tability. 
 
 Wardlaw junior's whole soul was 
 given to business night and day, and 
 he soon became known for a very am- 
 bitious and rising merchant. But, by 
 and by, ambition had to encounter a 
 rival in his heart. He fell in love ; 
 deeply in love ; and witli a wortliy 
 object. 
 
 The young lady was the daughter 
 of a distinguished officer, whose merits 
 were universally recognized, but not 
 rewarded in proportion. Wardlaw's 
 suit was favorably received by the 
 father, and the daughter gradually 
 yielded to an attachment, the warmth, 
 sincerity, and singleness of which were 
 manifest : and the pair would have 
 been married, but for the circum- 
 stance that her father (partly through 
 "Wardlaw's influence, by the by) had 
 obtained a lucrative post abroad 
 which it suited his means to accept, 
 at all events for a time. He was a 
 widower, and iiis daughter could not 
 let him go alone. 
 
 This temporary separation, if it 
 postponed a marriage, led naturally 
 to a solemn engagement; and Arthur 
 Wardlaw enjoyed the happiness of 
 writing and receiving affectionate let- 
 ters by every foreign post. Love, 
 worthily bestowed, shed its balm up- 
 on his heart, and, under its soft but 
 powerful cliarm, lie grew tranquil and 
 complacent, and his character and 
 temper seemed to improve. Such 
 virtue is there in a pure attach- 
 ment. 
 
 Meanwhile the extent of his opera- 
 tions alarmed old Penfold ; but he 
 soon reasoned tliat worthy down with 
 overpowering conclusions and superior 
 smiles. 
 
 He had been three years the ruling 
 spirit of Wardlaw and Son, wlien 
 some curious events took place in 
 another hemisphere ; and in these 
 events, which we are now to relate, 
 Arthur Wardlaw was more nearly in- 
 terested than may appear at first 
 sight. 
 
 Eobert Penfold, in due course, ap- 
 plied to Lieutenant-General Rolleston 
 for a ticket of leave. That functiona- 
 ry thought the application premature, 
 the crime being so grave. He com- 
 plained that the system had become 
 too lax, and for his part he seldom 
 gave a ticket of leave until some suit- 
 able occupation was provided for the 
 applicant. " Will anybody take you 
 as a clerk ? If so, — I '11 see about 
 it." 
 
 Robert Penfold could find nobody 
 to take him into a post of confidence 
 all at once, and wrote the General an 
 eloquent letter, begging hard to be 
 allowed to labor with his hands. 
 
 Fortunately, General RoUeston's 
 gardener had just turned him ofl^; so 
 he otfered the post to his eloquent 
 correspondent, remarking that he did 
 not much mind employing a ticket-of- 
 leave man himself, though he was re- 
 solved to protect his neighbors from 
 their relapses. 
 
 The convict then came to General 
 Rolleston, and begged leave to enter 
 on his duties under, the name of 
 James Seaton. At that General Rol- 
 leston hem'd and haw'd, and took a 
 note. But his final decision was as 
 follows : " If you really mean to 
 change your character, why, the name 
 you have disgraced might hang roimd 
 your neck. Well, I '11 give you every 
 chance. But," said this old warrior, 
 suddenly compressing his resolute 
 lips just a little, " if you go a yard off 
 the straight path iww, look for no 
 mercy, — Jemmy Seaton."
 
 14 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 So the convict was re-christened at 
 the tail of a tlircat, and let loose 
 anion;;- tiic warrior's tuli|)s. 
 
 His Mppcaraiicc was changed as ef- 
 fectually as iiis name. Even before 
 he was Scatoned he had grown a silky 
 mustache and beard ol'siiigular length 
 and beauty ; and, what with these, 
 and his woikingman's clothes, and his 
 cheeks and neck tanned by the sun, 
 our readers would never have recog- 
 nized in this hale, bearded laborer the 
 pale prisoner that hail trembled, raged, 
 ■wept, and submitted in the dock of 
 the Central Criminal Court. 
 
 Our Universities cure men of doing 
 things by halves, be the things mental 
 or muscular; so Seaton gardened 
 much more zealously tiian his ple- 
 beian predecessor : up at live, and did 
 not leave till eight. 
 
 But he was unpojjular in the kitch- 
 en, — because he was always out of 
 it : taciturn and bitter, he shunned his 
 fellow- servants. 
 
 Yet woi king among the flowers did 
 him good ; these his pretty compan- 
 ions and nurshtigs had no vices. 
 
 One day, as he was rolling the 
 grass upon the lawn, he heard a soft 
 rustle at some distance, and, looking 
 round, saw a young ludy on the grav- 
 el path, whose calm but bright face, 
 coming so suddenly, literally dazzled 
 him. She had a clear cheek bloom- 
 ing with exercise, ricii brown hair, 
 smooth, glossy, and abundant, and a 
 very light hazel eye, of singular 
 beauty and serenity. She glided 
 along, tranquil as a goddess, smote 
 him with beauty and perfume, and 
 left him staring after her receding fig- 
 ure, which was, in its way, as capti- 
 vating as her face. 
 
 She was walking up and down for 
 exercise, briskly, but without effort. 
 Once she passed within a few yards 
 of him, and he touched his hat to her. 
 She inclined her head gently, but her 
 eyes did not rest an instant on her 
 gardener ; and so she passed and re- 
 passed, unconsciously sawing this soli- 
 tary heart with soft but penetrating 
 thrills. 
 
 At last she went in-doors to lunch- 
 eon, and the lawn seemed to iniss the 
 light music of her rustling dress, and 
 the sunshine of her presence, and 
 there was a painful void ; but that 
 passed, and a certain sense of hapjji- 
 ness stole over James Seaton, — an 
 iinreasonable joy, that often runs be- 
 fore folly and trouble. 
 
 The young lady was Helen Rolle- 
 ston, just returned home from a visit. 
 She walked in the garden every day, 
 and Seaton watched her, and peeped 
 at her, unseen, behind trees and bush- 
 es. He fed his eyes and his heart 
 upon her, and, l)y degrees, she became 
 the sun of his solitary existence. It 
 was madness; but its first effect was 
 not unwholesome. The daily study 
 of this creature, who, though by no 
 means the angel he took her for, was 
 at all events a pure and virtuous wo- 
 man, soothed his sore licart, and 
 counteracted the demoralizing influ- 
 ences of his late compainons. Every 
 day he drank deeper of an insane, but 
 purifying and elevating passion. 
 
 He avoided the kitchen still more ; 
 and that, by the by, was unlucky ; for 
 there he could have learned something 
 about Miss Helen Rolleston, that 
 would have warned him to keep at 
 the other end of the garden, whenever 
 that charming face and form glided to 
 and fro amongst the minor flowers. 
 
 A beautiful face fires our imagina- 
 tion, and we see higher virtue and 
 intelligence in it than we can detect 
 in its owner's head or heart when wo 
 descend to calm inspection. James 
 Seaton gazed on Miss Rolleston day 
 after day, at so respectful a distance, 
 that she became his goddess. If a 
 day passed without his seeing her, he 
 was dejected. When she was behind 
 her time, he was restless, anxious, and 
 his work distasteful ; and then, wlicn 
 she came out at last, he thrilled all 
 over, and the lawn, ay, the world it- 
 self, seemed to fill with sunshine. 
 His adoration, timid by its own na- 
 ture, was doubly so by reason of his 
 fallen and hopeless condition. He cut 
 aosegays for her; but gave them to
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 15 
 
 her maid "Wilson for her. He had 
 not the courage to otfer them lo her- 
 self. 
 
 One eveninr^, as he went home, a 
 man addressed him familiarly, but in 
 a low voice. Seaton looked at him 
 attentively, and recognized him at 
 last. It was a convict called Butt, 
 who had come over in the ship with 
 him. The manoftered him a glass of 
 ale ; Seaton declined it. Butt, a very 
 clever rogue, seemed hurt : so then 
 Seaton assented reluctantly. Butt 
 took him to a public house in a nar- 
 row street, and into a private room. 
 Seaton started as soon as he entered, 
 for there sat two repulsive ruffians, 
 and, by a look that passed rapidly 
 between them and Butt, he saw plain- 
 ly that they were waiting for him. lie 
 felt nervous ; the place was so uncouth 
 and dark the faces so villanous. 
 
 However, they invited him to sit 
 down, roughly, but with an air of 
 good fellowship ; and very soon 
 opened theii- business over their ale. 
 We are all bound to assist our fellow- 
 creatures, when it can be done with- 
 out trouble ; and what they asked 
 of him was a simple act of courtesy, 
 such as in their opinion no man wor- 
 thy of the name could deny to his 
 fellow. It was to give General Rol- 
 lestou's watch-dog a piece of prepared 
 meat upon a certain evening : and, in 
 return for this trifling civility, they 
 were generous enough to otler him 
 a full share of any light valuables 
 they might find in the General's 
 house. 
 
 Seaton trembled, and put his face 
 in his hands a moment. " I cannot 
 do it," said he. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " He has been too good to me." 
 
 A coarse laugh of derision greeted 
 this argument ; it seemed so irrelevant 
 to these pure egotists. Seaton, liow- 
 ever, persisted, and on that one of the 
 men got up and stood before the 
 door, and drew his knife gently. 
 
 Seaton glanced his eyes round in 
 search of a weapon, and turned pale. 
 
 "Do you mean to split on lis, 
 
 mate 1 " said one of the ruffians in 
 front of him. 
 
 " No, I don't. But I won't rob my 
 benefactor : you shall kill me first." 
 And with that he darted to the tire- 
 place, and in a moment the poker 
 was high in air, and the way he 
 squared his shoulders and stood ready 
 to hit to the on, or cut to the off, was 
 a caution. 
 
 " Come, drop that," said Butt, 
 grimly ; " and put up your knife, Bob. 
 Can't a pal be out of a job, and yet 
 not split on them that is in it ! " 
 
 " Why should I split ] " said Robert 
 Penfold. " Has the law been a friend 
 to me ? But I won't rob my benefac- 
 tor — and his daughter." 
 
 " That is square enough," said 
 Butt. " Why, pals, there arc other 
 cribs to be cracked besides that old 
 bloke's. Finish the ale, mate, and 
 part friends." 
 
 " If you will promise me to ' crack 
 some other crib,' and let that one 
 alone." 
 
 A sullen assent was given, and 
 Seaton drank their healths, and 
 walked away. Butt followed him 
 soon after, and affected to side with 
 him, and intimated that he himself 
 was capable of not robbing a man's 
 house who had been good to him, or 
 to a pal of his. Indeed this plausible 
 person said so much, and his sullen 
 comrades had said so little, that Sea- 
 ton, rendered keen and anxious by 
 love, invested his savings in a Colt's 
 revolver and ammunition. 
 
 He did not stop there ; after the 
 hint about the watch-dog, he would 
 not trust that faithful but too carniv- 
 orous animal ; he brought his blan- 
 kets into the little tool-house, and lay 
 there every night in a sort of dog's 
 sleep. This tool house was erected in 
 a little back garden, separated from 
 the lawn only by some young trees in 
 single file. Now Miss Rolleston's win- 
 dow looked out upon the lawn, so that 
 Seaton's watch-tower was not many 
 yards from it ; then, as the tool-house 
 was only lighted from above, he bored 
 a hole in the wooden structure, and
 
 16 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 throujjjh this he watched, and slept, 
 and watclied. lie used to sit study- 
 in}; theolofry by a farthing; rushlij^iit 
 till tlie hidy's bedtime, and then he 
 watehed fur her shadow. If it ap- 
 peared for a few moments on the 
 blind, he pive a sigh of content, and 
 went to sleej), but awaked every now 
 and tlien to see that all was well. 
 
 After a few nights, his alarms nat- 
 urally ceased, but his love increased, 
 fed now from this new source, the 
 sweet sense of being the secret pro- 
 tector of her he adored. 
 
 Meantime, Aliss KoUeston's lady's 
 maid, Wilson, fell in love with him 
 after her fashion; she had taken a 
 fancy, to his face at once, and he had 
 encouraged her a little, unintention- 
 ally ; for he brought tlie nosegays to 
 her, and listened comjjlacently to her 
 gossip, for the sake of the few words 
 she let fall now and then about her 
 young mistress. As he never ex- 
 changed two sentences at a time with 
 any other servant, this flattered Sarah 
 Wilson, and she soon began to meet 
 and accost him oftencr, and in cher- 
 rier-colored riblions, than he could 
 stand. So then he showed impa- 
 tience, and thcTi she, reading him by 
 herself, suspected some vulgar rival. 
 
 Susjjicion soon bred jealousy, 
 jealousy vigilance, and vigilance de- 
 tection. 
 
 Her first discovery was that, so 
 long as she talked of Miss Helen 
 Ilolleston, she was always welcome ; 
 her second was, that Seaton slept in 
 the tool-house. 
 
 She was not romantic enough to 
 connect her two discoveries together. 
 They lay apart in her mind, until 
 circumstances we arc .about to relate 
 supplied a connecting link. 
 
 One Thursday evening James 
 Seaton's goddess sat alone with her 
 pa})a, and, — being a young lady of 
 fair abilities, who had gone through 
 her course of music and other studies, 
 taught brainlessly, and who was now 
 going through a course of monoto- 
 nous ])leasures, and had not accumu- 
 lated any great store of mental re- 
 
 sources, — she was listless and lan- 
 guid, and would have yawned forty 
 times in Ihcr papa's face, only she was 
 too well-bred. She always turned 
 her head away when it came, and 
 either suppressed it, or else hid it with 
 a lovely white hand. At last, as she 
 was a good girl, she blushed at her 
 behavior, and roused herself up, and 
 said she, " Papa, shall I play you the 
 new quadrilles ? " 
 
 Papa gave a start and a shake, and 
 said, with well - feigned vehemence, 
 " Ay, do, my dear," and so composed 
 himself — to listen; and Helen sat 
 down and played the quadrilles. 
 
 The composer had taken immortal 
 melodies, some gay, some sad, and 
 had robbed them of their distinctive 
 character, and hashed them till they 
 Avei'e all one monotonous rattle. But 
 General KoUeston was little the worse 
 for all this. As Apollo saved Horace 
 from hearing a poetaster's rhymes, so 
 did Somnus, another beneficent little 
 deity, rescue our warrior from his 
 daughter's music. 
 
 She was neither angry nor surprised. 
 A delicious smile illumined her face 
 directly ; she crept to him on tiptoe, 
 and bestowed a kiss, light as a zephyr, 
 on his gray head. And, in truth, 
 the bending attitude of this su])ple 
 figure, clad in snowy muslin, the vir- 
 ginal face and light hazel eye beaming 
 love and reverence, and the airy kiss, 
 had something angelic. 
 
 She took her candle, and glided up 
 to her bedroom. And, the moment 
 she got there, and could gratify her 
 somnolence without oiieiice, need we 
 say she became wide-awake ? She sat 
 down, and wrote long letters to three 
 other young ladies, gushing affection, 
 asking questions of the kind nobody 
 replies to, painting, with a young 
 lady's colors, the male being to whom 
 she was shortly to be married, wisli- 
 ing her dear friends a like demigod, 
 if ])ereliance earth contained two ; 
 and so to the last new bonnet and 
 preacher. 
 
 She sat over her paper till one
 
 FOUL PLAY, 
 
 17 
 
 o'clock, and Seaton watched and 
 adored her shadow. 
 
 When she had done writing, she 
 opened her window and looked out 
 upon the night. She lifted those 
 wonderful hazel eyes towards the 
 stars, and her watcher might well be 
 pardoned if he saw in her a celestial 
 being looking up from an earthly 
 resting-place towards her native sky. 
 
 At two o'clock she was in bed, but 
 not asleep. She lay calmly gazing at 
 the Southern Cross, and other lovely 
 stars shining with vivid, but chaste, 
 fire in the purple vault of heaven. 
 
 While thus employed she heard a 
 slight sound outside that made her 
 turn her eyes towards a young tree 
 near her window. Its top branches 
 were waving a good deal, though 
 there was not a bi-eath stirring. This 
 struck her as curious, very curious. 
 
 Whilst she wondered, suddenly an 
 arm and a hand came in sight, and 
 after them the whole figure of a man, 
 going up the tree. 
 
 Helen sat up now, glaring with ter- 
 ror, and was so paralyzed, she did 
 not utter a sound. About a foot be- 
 low her window was a lead flat that 
 roofed the bay-window below. It 
 covered an area of several feet, and 
 the man sprang on to it with perfect 
 ease from the tree. Helen shrieked 
 with terror. At that very instant 
 there was a flash, a pistol-shot, and 
 the man's arms went whirling, and he 
 staggered and fell over the edge of the 
 flat, and struck the grass below with 
 a heavy thud. Shots and blows fol- 
 lowed, and all the sounds of a bloody 
 struggle rung in Helen's ears as she 
 flung herself sereaming from the bed 
 and darted to the door. She ran and 
 clung quivering to her sleepy maid, 
 Wilson. The liouse was alarmed, 
 lights flashed, footsteps pattered, 
 there was universal commotion. 
 
 General RoUeston soon learned his 
 daughter's story from Wilson, and 
 aroused his male servants, one of 
 whom was an old soldier. They 
 searched the house first ; but no en- 
 trance had been effected ; so they 
 2 
 
 went out on the lawn with blunder- 
 buss and pistol. 
 
 They found a man lying on his 
 back at the foot of the bay-window. 
 
 They pounced on him, and, to 
 their amazement, it was the gardener, 
 James Seaton. Insensible. 
 
 General RoUeston was quite taken 
 aback for a moment. Then he was 
 sorry. But, after a little reflection, 
 he said very sternly, " Carry the 
 blackguard in-doors ; and run for an 
 oflicer." 
 
 Seaton was taken into the hall, and 
 laid flat on the floor. 
 
 All the servants gathered about 
 him, brimful of curiosity, and the fe- 
 male ones began to speak all togeth- 
 er ; but General Rolleston told them 
 sharply to hold their tongues, and to 
 retire behind the man. " Somebody 
 sprinkle him with cold water," said 
 he ; " and be quiet, all of you, and 
 keep out of sight, while I examine 
 him." He stood before the insensi- 
 ble figure with his arms folded, 
 amidst a dead silence, broken only by 
 the stifled sobs of Sarah Wilson, and 
 of a sociable housemaid who cried 
 with her for company. 
 
 And now Seaton began to writhe 
 and show signs of returning sense. 
 
 Next he moaned piteously, and 
 sighed. But General Rolleston could 
 not pity him ; he waited grimly for re- 
 turning consciousness, to subject him 
 to a merciless interrogatory. 
 
 He waited just one second too long. 
 He had to answer a question instead 
 of putting one. 
 
 The judgment is the last faculty a 
 man recovers when emerging from 
 insensibility ; and Seaton, seeing the 
 General standing before him, stretched 
 out his hands, and said, in a faint, but 
 earnest voice, before eleven witnesses, 
 " Is she safe ? 0, is she safe ? " 
 
 -♦ 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Sarah Wilson left off crying, and 
 looked down on the ground with a
 
 18 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 very red face. General Rolleston 
 was amazed. " ' Is she safe ? ' Is 
 who safe ? " said he. " He means 
 my mistress," replied "Wilson, rather 
 brusquely ; and flounced out of the 
 hall. 
 
 " She is safe, no thanks to you," 
 said General Rolleston. " What were 
 you dointj under her v/indow at this 
 time of night ? " And the harsh tone 
 in wliich this question was put 
 showed Seaton he was suspected. 
 This wounded him, and he replied, 
 doggedly, " Lucky for you all I was 
 there." 
 
 " That is no answer to my ques- 
 tion," said the General, sternly. 
 
 " It is all the answer I shall eive 
 you." 
 
 " Then I shall hand you over to 
 the officer, without another word." 
 
 " Do, sir, do," said Seaton, bit- 
 terly ; but he added more gently, 
 " you will be sorry for it when you 
 come to your senses." 
 
 At this moment Wilson entered 
 with a message. " If you please, sir, 
 Miss Rolleston says the robber had 
 no beard. Miss have never noticed 
 Seaton's face, but his beard she have ; 
 and O, if you please, sir, she begged 
 me to ask him, — Was it you that 
 fired the pistol and shot the robber ? " 
 
 The delivery of this ungrammatical 
 message but rational query was like 
 a ray of light streaming into a dark 
 place : it changed the whole aspect of 
 things. As for Seaton, he received it 
 as if Heaven was speaking to him 
 through "Wilson. His sullen air re- 
 laxed, the water stood in his eyes, he 
 smiled affectionately, and said in a 
 low, tender voice, " Tell her I heard 
 some bad characters talking about 
 this house, — that was a month ago, 
 — so, ever since then, I have slept in 
 the tool-house to watch. Yes, I shot 
 the robber with my revolver, and I 
 marked one or two more ; but they 
 were three to one ; I think I must 
 have got a blow on the head ; for I 
 felt nothing — " 
 
 Here he was interrupted by a vio- 
 lent scream from "Wilson. She pointed i 
 
 downwards, with her eyes glaring: 
 and a little blood was seen to bd 
 trickling slowly over Seaton's stock- 
 ing and shoe. 
 
 '" Wounded," said the General's 
 servant, Tom, in the bnsiness-Iike 
 accent of one who had seen a thou- 
 sand wounds. 
 
 " O, never mind that," said Seaton. 
 "It can't be very deep, for I don't 
 feel it " ; then, fixing his eyes on 
 General Rolleston, he said, in a voice 
 that broke down suddenly, " There 
 stands the only man who has wounded 
 me to-night, to hurt me." 
 
 Tiie way General Rolleston re- 
 ceived this point-blank reproach sur- 
 prised some persons present, who had 
 observed only the imperious and iron 
 side of his character. He hung his 
 head in silence a moment ; then, being 
 discontented with himself, he went 
 into a passion witli his servants for 
 standing idle. " Run away, you wo- 
 men," said he, roughly. " Now, Tom, 
 if you are good for anything, strip the 
 man and stanch his wound. An- 
 drew, a bottle of port, quick ! " 
 
 Then, leaving him for a while in 
 friendly hands, he went to his daugh- 
 ter, and asked her if she saw any ob- 
 jection to a bed being made up in the 
 house for the wounded convict. 
 
 "O papa," said she, "why, of 
 course not. I am all gratitude. 
 What is he like, Wilson ? for it is a 
 most provoking thing, I never no- 
 ticed his fare, only his beautiful beard 
 glittering in the sunshine ever so far 
 off. Poor young man ! yes, pa- 
 pa ! send him to bed directly, and we 
 will all nurse him. I never did any 
 good in the world yet, and so why 
 not begin at once ? " 
 
 General Rolleston laughed at this 
 squirt of enthusiasm from his staid 
 daughter, and went off to give the 
 requisite orders. 
 
 But Wilson followed him imme- 
 diately and stopped him in the pas- 
 sage. 
 
 "If you please, sir, I think 3-on had 
 better not. I have something to tell 
 you." She then communicated to
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 19 
 
 him by degrees her suspicion that 
 James Seaton was in love with his 
 daughter. He treated this with due 
 ridicule at first ; but she gave him 
 one reason after another till she stag- 
 gered him, and he went down stairs 
 in a most mixed and puzzled frame 
 of mind, inclined to laugh, inclined 
 to be angry, inclined to be sorry. 
 
 The officer had just arrived, and 
 was looking over some photographs 
 to see if James Seaton was "one of 
 his birds." Such, alas ! was his ex- 
 pression. 
 
 At siglit of this Eolleston colored 
 up ; but extricated himself from tlie 
 double difficulty with some skill. 
 " Hexham," said he, " this poor fellow 
 has behaved like a man, and got him- 
 self wounded in my service. You 
 are to take him to the infirmary ; 
 but, mind, they must treat him like 
 my own son, and nothing he asks for 
 be denied him." 
 
 Seaton walked with feeble steps, 
 and leaning on two men, to tlie in- 
 firmary ; and General Rolleston or- 
 dered a cup of coffee, lighted a cigar, 
 and sat cogitating over this strange 
 business, and asking himself how he 
 could get rid of this young madman, 
 and yet befriend him. As for Sarah 
 Wilson, she went to bed discontented, 
 and wondering at her own bad judg- 
 ment. She saw, too late, that, if she 
 had held her tongue, Seaton would 
 have been her patient and her prison- 
 er ; and as for Miss Rolleston, when 
 it came to the point, why, she would 
 never have nursed him except by 
 proxy, and the proxy would have 
 been Sarah Wilson. 
 
 Howevei-, the blunder blind passion 
 had led her into was partially re- 
 paired by Miss Rolleston herself. 
 When she heard, next day, where 
 Seaton was gone, she lifted up her 
 hands in amazement. " What could 
 papa be thinking of to send our bene- 
 factor to a hospital ? " And, after 
 meditating awhile, she directed Wil- 
 son to cut a nosegay and carry it to 
 Seaton. " He is a gardener," said 
 she, innocently. " Of course he will 
 
 miss his flowers sadly in that miser- 
 able place." 
 
 And she gave the same order every 
 day, with a constancy that, you must 
 know, formed part of this young 
 lady's character. Soup, wine, and 
 jellies were sent from the kitchen 
 every other day with equal perti- 
 nacity. 
 
 Wilson concealed the true donor of 
 all those things, and took the credit 
 to herself. By this means she ob- 
 tained the patient's gratitude, and he 
 showed it so frankly, she hoped to 
 steal his love as well. 
 
 But no ! his fancy and his heart 
 remained true to the cold beauty he 
 had served so well, and she had for- 
 gotten him, apparently. 
 
 This irritated Wilson at last, and 
 she set to work to cure him with 
 wholesome, but bitter medicine. She 
 sat down beside him one day, and 
 said, cheerfully. "We are all 'on 
 the keyfeet ' just now. Miss Rolle- 
 ston's beau is come on a visit." 
 
 The patient opened his eyes with 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Miss Rolleston's bean ? " 
 
 " Ay, her intended. What, did n't 
 you know, she is engaged to be mar- 
 ried ? " 
 
 " She engaged to be married 1 " 
 gasped Seaton. 
 
 Wilson watched him with a re- 
 morseless eye. 
 
 " Why, James," said she, after a 
 while, " did you think the likes of 
 her would go through the world with- 
 out a mate ? " 
 
 Seaton made no reply but a moan, 
 and lay back like one dead, utterly 
 crushed by this cruel blow. 
 
 A buxom middle-aged nurse now 
 came up, and said, with a touch of 
 severity, " Come, my good girl, no 
 doubt you mean well, but you are 
 doing ill. You had better leave him 
 to us for the present." 
 
 On this hint Wilson bounced out, 
 and left the patient to his misery. 
 
 At her next visit she laid a nose- 
 gay on his bed, and gossiped away,
 
 20 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 talking of everythin;^ in the world 
 cxi-ept Miss Kollcstoii. 
 
 At last slie came to a pause, and 
 Seatou laid his hand on her arm di- 
 rectly, and looUini; i)ituously in her 
 face spoke liis first word. 
 
 " Does she love Iiim .' " 
 
 "What, still harping on her?" 
 said Wilson. "Well, she doesn't 
 hate liim, I suppose, or she would not 
 marry him." ^ 
 
 "l"or pity's sake don't trifle with 
 me ! Does she love him ? " 
 
 " La, James, how can I tell ? She 
 may n't love him quite as much as I 
 could love a man that took my fan- 
 cy " (here she cast a languishing 
 glance on Seaton) ; "but I see no 
 difference between her and other 
 young ladies. Miss is very fond of her 
 papa, for one thing ; and he favors 
 the match. Ay, and she likes her 
 partner well enough : she is brighter 
 like, now he is in the house, and 
 she reads all her friends' letters 
 to him ever so lovingly; and I do 
 notice she leans on him, out walking, 
 a trifle more than there is any need 
 for." 
 
 At this picture James Seaton 
 writhed in his bed like some agonized 
 creature under vivisection ; but the 
 woman, spurred by jealousy, and 
 also by egotistical passion, had no 
 mercy left for him. 
 
 " And why not 1 " continued she ; 
 " he is young, and handsome, and 
 rich, and he dotes on her. If you 
 are really her friend, you ought to 
 be glad she is so well suited." 
 
 At this admonition the tears stood 
 in Seaton's eyes, and after a while 
 he got strength to say, " I know I 
 ought, I know it. if he is only 
 worthv of her, as worthy as any man 
 could be." 
 
 " That he is, James. Why, I '11 
 be bound you have heard of him. 
 It is young Mr. Wardlaw." 
 
 Seaton started up in bed. " Who ? 
 Wardlaw ? what Wardlaw? " 
 
 " What Wardlaw ? why, the great 
 London merchant, his son. Least- 
 ways he manages the whole concern 
 
 now, I hear ; the old gentleman, he 
 is retired, by all accounts." 
 
 " CUKSE HIM ! CLKSi: IIIM ! CURSE 
 
 IIIM ! " yelled Jaines Seaton, with 
 his eyes glaring fearfully, and both 
 hands heating tlie air. 
 
 Sarah Wilson recoiled with alarm. 
 
 " That an^el marry him ! " shrieked 
 Seaton. "Never, while I live: I'll 
 throttle him with these hands first." 
 
 What more his nngovernahlc fury 
 would have uttered was interrupted 
 by a rush of nurses and attendants, 
 and Wilson was bundled out of the 
 place with little ceremony. 
 
 He contrived, however, to hurl a 
 word after her, accompanied with a 
 look of concentrated rage and resolu- 
 tion. 
 
 " Never, I tell tou, — while 
 
 I LIVE." 
 
 At her next visit to the hospital, 
 Wilson was refused admission by or- 
 der of the Head Surgeon. She left 
 her flowers daily all the same. 
 
 After a few days she thought the 
 matter might have cooled, and, having 
 a piece of news to communicate to 
 Seaton, with respect to Arthur Ward- 
 law, she asked to see that ])atient. 
 
 " Left the hospital this morning," 
 was the reply. 
 
 "What, cured?" 
 
 " Why not ? We have cured worse 
 cases than his." 
 
 " Where has he gone to ? Pray tell 
 me." 
 
 " O, certainly." And inquiry was 
 made. But the reply was, " Left no 
 address." 
 
 Sarah Wilson, like many other 
 women of high and low degree, had 
 swift misgivings of mi.^chief to come. 
 She was taken with a tit of tiembling, 
 and had to sit down in the hall. 
 
 And, to tell the truth, she had cause 
 to tremble ; for that tongue of hers 
 had launched two wild beasts, — Jeal- 
 ousy and Revenge. 
 
 When she got better she went home, 
 and, coward-like, said not a word to 
 living soul. 
 
 That day, Arthur Wardlaw dined
 
 FOUL PLAY, 
 
 21 
 
 with General Rolleston and Helen. 
 They were to be alone for a certain 
 reason ; and he came half an hour be- 
 fore dinner. Helen thought he would, 
 and was ready for him on the lawn. 
 
 They walked arm-in-arm, talking 
 of the' happiness before them, and re- 
 gretting a temporary separation that 
 was to intervene. He was her father's 
 choice, and she loved her father devot- 
 edly ; he was her male property ; 
 and young ladies like that sort of 
 property, especially when they see 
 nothing to dislike in it. He loved 
 her passionately, and that was her 
 due, and pleased her and drew a gentle 
 affection, if not a passion, from her in 
 return. Yes, that lovely forehead did 
 come very near young Wardlaw's 
 shoulder more than once or twice, as 
 they strolled slowly up and down on 
 the soft mossy turf. 
 
 And, on the other side of the hedge 
 that bounded the lawn, a man lay 
 crouched in the ditch, and saw it all 
 with gleaming eyes. 
 
 Just before the affianced ones went 
 in, Helen said, " I have a little favor 
 to ask you, dear. The poor man, 
 Seaton, who fought the robbers, and 
 was wounded, — papa says he is a 
 man of education, and wanted to be a 
 clerk or something. Could you find 
 him a place ? " 
 
 "I think I can," said Wardlaw; 
 " indeed, I am sure. A line to Wliite 
 and Co. will do it; they want a ship- 
 ping clerk." 
 
 " O how good you are ! " said Hel- 
 en ; and lifted her face all beaming 
 with thanks. 
 
 The opportunity was tempting ; 
 the lover fond : two flices met for a' 
 single moment, and one of the two 
 burned for five minutes after. 
 
 The basilisk eyes saw the soft col- 
 lision ; but the owner of those eyes 
 did not hear the words that earned 
 him tiiat torture. He lay still and 
 bided his time. 
 
 General Rolleston's house stood 
 clear of the town at the end of a 
 short, but narrow and tortuous lane. 
 
 This situation had tempted the bur- 
 glars whom Seaton baffled ; and now 
 it tempted Seaton. 
 
 Wardlaw must pass that way on 
 leaving General Rolleston's house. 
 
 At a bend of the lane two twin 
 elms stood out a foot or two from the 
 hedge. Seaton got behind these at 
 about ten o'clock, and watched for 
 him with a patience and immobility 
 that boded ill. 
 
 His preparations for this encounter 
 were singular. He had a close-shut- 
 ting inkstand and a pen, and one 
 sheet of paper, at the top of which he 
 had written " Sydney," and the day 
 of the month and year, leaving the 
 rest blank. And he had the revolver 
 with which he had shot the robber at 
 Helen Rolleston's window; and a 
 barrel of that arm was loaded with 
 swan shot. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The moon went down ; the stars 
 shone out clearer. 
 
 Eleven o'clock boomed from a 
 church clock in the town. 
 
 Wardlaw did not come, and Seaton 
 did not move from his ambush. 
 
 Twelve o'clock boomed, and Ward- 
 law never came, and Seaton never 
 moved. 
 
 Soon after midnight, General Rolle- 
 ston's hall door opened, and a fig- 
 ure appeared in a hood of light. Sea- 
 ton's eyes gleamed at the light, for 
 it was young Wardlaw, with a foot- 
 man at his back holding a lighted 
 lamp. 
 
 AVardlaw, however, seemed in no 
 hurry to leave the house, and the rea- 
 son soon appeared ; he was joined by 
 Helen Rolleston, and she was equipped 
 for walking. The watcher saw her 
 serene face shine in the light. The 
 General himself came next; and, as 
 they left the door, out came Tom with 
 a blunderbuss, and brought up the 
 rear. Seaton drew liehind the trees, 
 and postponed, but did not resign, his 
 purpose.
 
 23 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Steps and murmurinf^s came, and 
 passed him, and receded. 
 
 The only words lie caught distinct- 
 ly came from Wardlaw, as he passed. 
 " It is nearly high tide. I fear we 
 must make haste." 
 
 Seaton followed the whole ])arty at 
 a short distance, feeling sure they 
 woidd eventually separate and give 
 him his opportunity with "Wardlaw. 
 
 They went down to the harbor and 
 took a boat ; Seaton came nearer, 
 and learned they were going on board 
 the great steamer bound for England, 
 that loomed so black, with monstrous 
 eyes of fire. 
 
 They put off, and Seaton stood 
 baffled. 
 
 Presently the black monster, with 
 enormous eyes of lire, spouted her 
 steam like a Leviathan, and then was 
 still ; next the smoke puffed, the 
 heavy paddles revolved, and she 
 rushed out of the harbor ; and Seaton 
 sat down upon the ground, and all 
 seemed ended. Helen gone to Eng- 
 land ! Wardlaw gone with her ! Love 
 and revenge had alike eluded him. 
 He looked up at the sky, and played 
 with the pe'^bles at his feet, stupidly, 
 stupidly. He wondered why he was 
 born ; why he consented to live a sin- 
 gle minute after this. His angel and 
 his demon gone home together ! And 
 he left here ! 
 
 He wrote a few lines on the paper 
 lie had intended for Wardlaw, sprin- 
 kled them with sand, and put them in 
 his bosom, then stretched himself out 
 with a weary moan, like a dying dog, 
 to wait the flow of the tide, and, with 
 it, Death. Whether or not his reso- 
 lution or his madness could have car- 
 ried him so far cannot be. known, for 
 even as the water rippled in, and, 
 trickling under his back, chilled him 
 to the bone, a silvery sound struck his 
 ear. He .started to his feet, and life 
 and its joys rushed back upon liim. 
 It was the voice of the woman he 
 loved so madly. 
 
 Helen KoUeston was on the water, 
 coming ashore again in the little 
 boat. 
 
 He crawled, like a lizard, among 
 the boats ashore to catch a sight of 
 her : he did see her, was near her, un- 
 seen himself. She landed with her 
 father. So Wardlaw was gone to 
 England without her. Seaton trem- 
 bled with joy. Presently his goddess 
 began to lament in the prettiest way. 
 " Papa I Papa ! " she sighed, " why 
 must friends part in this sad world ? 
 Poor Arthur is gone from me ; and, 
 by and by, I shall go from you, my 
 own papa." And at that prospect 
 she wept gentlv. 
 
 " Why, you foolish child ! " said 
 the old General, tenderly, " what mat- 
 ters a little parting, when we are all 
 to meet again, in dear old England. 
 Well then, there, have a cry ; it will 
 do you good." He patted her head 
 tenderly, as she clung to his warlike 
 breast ; and she took him at his word ; 
 the tears ran swiftly and glistened la 
 the verv starlight. 
 
 But 0, how Seaton's heart yearned 
 at all this ! 
 
 AVliat ■? must n't lie say a word to 
 comfort her ; he who, at that moment, 
 would have thought no more of dying 
 to serve her, or to please her, than he 
 would of throwing one of those peb- 
 bles into that slimy water. 
 
 Well, her pure tears somehow cooled 
 his hot brain, and washed his soul, 
 and left him wondering at himself and 
 his misdeeds this night. His guar- 
 dian angel seemed to go by and wave 
 her dewy wings, and fan his hot pas- 
 sions as she passed. 
 
 He kneeled down and thanked God 
 he had not met Arthur Wardlaw in 
 that dark lane. 
 
 Then he went home to his humble 
 lodgings, and there buried himself; 
 and from that day seldom went out, 
 except to seek employment. He soon 
 obtained it as a copyist. 
 
 Jlcantime the police were on his 
 track, employed by a person with a 
 gentle disposition, but a tenacity of 
 purpose truly remarkable. 
 
 Great was Seaton's uneasiness when 
 one day he saw Hexham at the foot 
 of his stair; greater still, when tho
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 23 
 
 officer's quick eye caught sight of 
 him, and his li^rht foot ascended the 
 stairs directly. He felt sure Hexham 
 had heard of his lurking about Gen- 
 eral Rollestoii's premises. However, 
 he prepared to defend himself to the 
 uttermost. 
 
 Hexham came into his room with- 
 out ceremony, and looking mighty 
 grim. " Well, my lad, so we have 
 got you, after all." 
 
 " What is my crime now ? " asked 
 Seaton, sullenly. 
 
 " James," said the officer, very sol- 
 emnly, " it is an unheard-of crime this 
 time. You have been — running — 
 away — from a pretty girl. Now that 
 is a' mistake at all times ; but, when 
 she is as beautiful as a angel, and rich 
 enough to slip a fiver into Dick Hex- 
 ham's hands, and lay him on your 
 track, what is the use"? Letter for 
 you, my man." 
 
 Seaton took the letter, with a 
 puzzled air. It was written in a clear 
 but feminine hand, and slightly scent- 
 ed. 
 
 The writer, in a few polished lines, 
 excused herself for taking extraor- 
 dinary means to find jNIr. Seaton ; but 
 hoped he would consider that lie had 
 laid her under a deep obligation, and 
 that gratitude will sometimes be im- 
 portunate. She had the pleasure to 
 inform him that the office of shipping 
 clerk at Messrs. White & Co.'s was at 
 his service, and she hojied he would 
 take it without an hour's further delay, 
 for that she was assured that many per- 
 sons had risen to wealth and consid- 
 eration in the colony from such situa- 
 tions. 
 
 Then, as this wary but courteous 
 young lady had no wish to enter into 
 a correspondence with her ex-gar- 
 dener, she added, — 
 
 "Mr. Seaton need not trouble him- 
 self to reply to this note. A simple 
 ' yes ' to Mr. Hexham will be enough, 
 and will give sincere pleasure to Mr. 
 Seaton's 
 " Obedient servant and well-wisher, 
 " HjiLEN Anne Eolleston." 
 
 Seaton bowed his head over this 
 letter in silent but deep emotion. 
 
 Hexham respected that emotion, and 
 watched him with a sort of vague 
 sympathy. 
 
 Seaton lifted his head, and the tears 
 stood thick in his eyes. Said he, in 
 a voice of exquisite softness, scarce 
 above a whisper, " Tell her, ' yes ' and 
 ' God bless her.' Good by. I want 
 to go on my knees, and pray God to 
 bless her, as she deserves. Good 
 
 by." 
 
 Hexham took the hint, and retired 
 softly. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 White and Co. stumbled on a 
 treasure in James Seaton. Your 
 colonial clerk is not so narrow and 
 apathetic as your London clerk, whose 
 two objects seem to be, to learn one 
 department only, and not to do too 
 much in that ; but Seaton, a gentle- 
 man and a scholar, eclipsed even colo- 
 nial clerks in this, that he omitted no 
 opportunity of learning the whole 
 business of White and Co., and was 
 also animated by a feverish zeal, that 
 now and then provoked laughter from 
 clerks, but was agreeable, as well as 
 surprising, to White and Co. Of that 
 zeal, his incurable passion was partly 
 the cause. Fortunes had been made 
 with great rapidity in Sydney ; and 
 Seaton now conceived a wild hope of 
 acquiring one, by some lucky hit, be- 
 fore Wardlaw could return to Helen 
 RoUeston. And yet his common 
 sense said, if I was as rich as Croesus, 
 how could she ever mate with me, a 
 stained man. And yet his burning 
 heart said, don't listen to i-eason ; 
 listen only to me. Try. 
 
 And so he worked double tides ; 
 and, in virtue of his University educa- 
 tion, had no snobbish notions about 
 never putting his hand to manual 
 labor : he would lay down his pen at 
 any moment, and bear a hand to lift 
 a chest, or roll a cask. Old White 
 saw him thus multiply himself^ and
 
 24 
 
 rOUL PLAY. 
 
 was so pleased that he raised his 
 salary one third. 
 
 lie never saw Helen Rolleston, ex- 
 cept on Sunday. On that day he 
 went to her church, and sat half be- 
 hind a pillar, and feasted his eyes and 
 his heart upon her. lie lived spar- 
 ingly, saved money, houfrht a strip 
 of land by payment of £10 deposit, 
 and sold it in forty hours for £ 100 
 profit, and watched keenly for simi- 
 lar opportunities on a larmier scale ; 
 and all for her. Strugj^ling with 
 a mountain : hoping against reason, 
 and the world. 
 
 "White and Co. were employed to 
 ship a valuable cargo on board two 
 vessels chartered l)y Wardlaw and 
 Son ; the Shannon and Proserpine. 
 
 Both these ships lay in Sydney 
 harbor, and had taken in the bulk 
 of their cargoes ; but the supple- 
 ment was the cream ; for Wardlaw, 
 in person, had warehoused eighteen 
 cases of gold dust and ingots, and 
 fifty of lead and smelted copper. 
 They were all examined, and brand- 
 ed, by Mr. White, who had duplicate 
 keys of the gold cases. But the con- 
 tents as a matter of habit and pru- 
 dence were not described outside ; but 
 were marked Proserpine and Shan- 
 non, respectively; the mate of the 
 Proserpine, who was in Wardlaw's 
 confidence, had written instructions 
 to look carefully to the stowage of all 
 these cases, and was in and out of 
 the store one afternoon just before 
 closing, and measured the cubic con- 
 tents of the cases, with a view to 
 stowage in the respective vessels. 
 The last time he came he seemed 
 rather the worse for liquor ; and 
 Seaton, who accompanied him, hav- 
 ing stepped out for a minute for 
 something or other, was rather sur- 
 prised on his return to find the door 
 closed, and it struck him Mr. Wylie 
 (that was the mate's name) might be 
 inside ; the more so as the door 
 closed very easily with a spring bolt, 
 but it could only be opened by a key 
 of peculiar construction. Seaton took 
 
 out his key, opened the door, and 
 called to the mate : but received no 
 reply. However, he took the pre- 
 caution to go round the store, and 
 see whether Wylie, rendered somno- 
 lent by liquor, might not be lying 
 oblivious among the cases ; Wylie, 
 however, was not to be seen, and Sea- 
 ton finding iiimself alone did an un- 
 wise thing ; he came and contem- 
 plated Wardlaw's cases of metal and 
 specie. (Men will go too near the 
 thing that causes their pain.) He 
 eyed them with grief and with desire, 
 and could not restrain a sigh at these 
 material proofs of his rival's wealth : 
 the wealth that probably had smoothed 
 his way to General Kolleston's home, 
 and to ills daughter's heart ; for 
 wealth can pave the way to hearts, 
 ay, even to hearts that cannot bo 
 downright bouglit. This revery, no 
 doubt, Listed longer than he thought, 
 for presently he heard the loud rattle 
 of shutters going up below : it was 
 closing time ; he hastily closed and 
 locked the iron shutters, and then 
 went out and shut the door. 
 
 He had been gone about two hours, 
 and that part of the street, so noisy 
 in business hours, was hushed in 
 silence, all but an occasional footstep 
 on the flags outside, when something 
 mysterious occurred in the warehouse, 
 now as dark as pitch. 
 
 At an angle of the wall stood two 
 large cases in a vertical position, with 
 smaller cases lying at their feet : these 
 two cases were about eight feet high, 
 more or less. Well, behind these 
 cases suddenly flashed a feeble light, 
 and the next moment two brown and 
 sinewy hands appeared on the edge 
 of one of the cases, — the edge next 
 the wall ; the case vibrated and rocked 
 a little, and the next moment there 
 mounted on the top of it not a cat, 
 nor a monkey, as miglit have been 
 expected, but an animal that in truth 
 resembles botli these quadrupeds, viz. 
 a sailor ; and need we say that sailor 
 was the mate of the Proserpine ? He 
 descended lightly from the top of the 
 case behind whicli he had been
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 25 
 
 jammed for hours, and lighted a dark 
 lantern ; and went softly gi'oping 
 about the store witii it. 
 
 Tills was a niysterions act, and 
 would perhaps have puzzled the pro- 
 prietors of the store even more than it 
 would a stranger : for a stranger 
 would have said at once this is bur- 
 glary, or else arson ; but those ac- 
 quainted with the place would have 
 known that neither of those crimes 
 was very practicable. This enter- 
 prising sailor could not hura down 
 this particular store without roasting 
 himself the first thing ; and indeed he 
 could not burn it down at all ; for the 
 roof was flat, and was in fact one 
 gigantic iron tank, like the roof of 
 JNIr. Coding's brewery in London : 
 and, by a neat contrivance of Amer- 
 ican origin, the whole tank could be 
 turned in one moment to a shower- 
 bath, and drown a conflagration in 
 thirty seconds or thereabouts. Nor 
 could he rifle the place; the goods 
 were greatly protected by their weight, 
 and it was impossible to get out of the 
 store without raising au alarm, and 
 being searched. 
 
 But, not to fall into the error of 
 writers who underrate their readers' 
 curiosity and intelligence, and so del- 
 uge them with comments and explana- 
 tions, we will now simply relate what 
 Wylie did, leaving you to glean his 
 motives as this tale advances. His 
 jicket had large pockets, and he took 
 out of them a bunch of eighteen bright 
 steel keys, numbered, a set of new 
 screw-drivers, a flask of rum, and two 
 ship biscuits. 
 
 He unlocked the eighteen cases 
 marked Proserpine, &c., and, peering 
 in with his hintern, saw the gold dust 
 and small ingots packed in parcels, 
 and surrounded by Australian wool 
 of the highest possible quality. It 
 was a luscious sight. 
 
 He then proceeded to a heavier 
 task ; he unscrewed, one after another, 
 eighteen of the cases marked Shan- 
 non, and the eighteen so selected, 
 perha])s by private marks, proved to 
 be packed close, and on a different 
 
 system from the gold, viz. in pigs, or 
 square blocks, three, or in some cases 
 four, to each chest. Now, these two 
 ways of packing the specie and the 
 baser metal, respectively, had the 
 efl'ect of producing a certain imiform- 
 ity of weight in the thirty-six cases 
 Wylie was inspecting : otherwise the 
 gold cases would have been twice the 
 weight of those that contained the 
 baser metal ; for lead is proverbially 
 heavy, but under scientific tests is to 
 gold as five to twelve, or thereabouts. 
 
 In his secret and mysterious labor 
 Wylie was often interrupted. When- 
 ever he heard a step on the pavement 
 outside, he drew the slide of his lan- 
 tern and hid the light. If he had 
 examined the iron shutters, he would 
 have seen that his light could never 
 pierce through them into the street. 
 But he was not aware of this. Not- 
 withstanding these occasional inter- 
 ruptions, he worked so hard and 
 continuously, that the perspiration 
 poured down him ere he had un- 
 screwed those eighteen chests contain- 
 ing the pigs of lead. However, it 
 was done at last, and then he re- 
 freshed himself with a draught from 
 his flask. The next thing was, he 
 took the three pigs of lead out of one 
 of the cases marked Shannon, &c., 
 and numbered fifteen, and laid them 
 very gently on the floor. Then he 
 transferred to that empty case the 
 mixed contents of a case branded 
 Proserpine 1, &c., and this he did 
 with the utmost care and nicety, lest 
 gold dust spilled should tell tales. 
 And so he went on and amused him- 
 self by shifting the contents of the 
 whole eighteen cases marked Proser- 
 pine, &c., into eighteen cases marked 
 Shannon, &c., and refilling them with 
 the Shannon's lead. Frolicsome Mr. 
 Wylie ! Then he sat down on one 
 of the cases Proserpined, and ate a 
 biscuit and drank a little rum; not 
 much : for at this part of his career 
 he was a very sober man, though he 
 could feign drunkenness, or indeed 
 anything else. 
 
 The gold was all at his mercy, yet
 
 26 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 he did not pocket an ounce of it ; not 
 even a pcnnywei;^'ht to make a wed- 
 dinj^-riiii^; for Nancy liouse. Mr. 
 Wyiie had a conscience. And a very 
 orijjjinal one it was ; and, above all, 
 lie was very true to those he worked 
 with. He carefully locked tlie gold 
 cases up again, and resumed the 
 sci-ew-driver, for there was another 
 heavy stroke of work to be done ; and 
 he went at it like a man. He care- 
 fully screwed down again, one after 
 another, all those eighteen cases 
 marked Shannon, which he had filled 
 with gold dust, and then, heating a 
 sailor's needle red-hot over his burn- 
 ing wick, he put his own secret marks 
 on those eighteen cases, — marks that 
 no eye but his own could detect. By 
 this time, though a very powerful 
 man, he felt much exhausted, and 
 would gladly have snatched an hour's 
 repose. But, consulting his watch 
 by the light of his lantern, he found 
 the sun had just risen. He retired to 
 his place of concealment in the same 
 cat-like way he had come out of it, — 
 that is to say, he mounted on the 
 high cases, and then slipt down be- 
 hind them, into the angle of the wall. 
 
 As goon as the office opened, two 
 sailors, whom he had carefully in- 
 structed overnight, came with a boat 
 for the cases ; the warehouse was 
 opened in consequence, but they were 
 informed that Wylie must be present 
 at the delivery. 
 
 " 0, he won't be long," said tliey ; 
 " told us he would meet ns here." 
 
 There was a considerable delay, and 
 a good deal of talking, and presently 
 AVylie was at their backs, and put in 
 liis word. 
 
 Seaton was greatly surprised at 
 finding him there, and asked him 
 where he had sprung from. 
 
 " Me ! " said Wylie, jocosely, " why, 
 I hailed from L)avy Jones's locker 
 last." 
 
 " I never heard you come in," said 
 Seaton, thoughtfully. 
 
 " Well, sir," replied Wylie, civilly, 
 " a man docs learn to go like a cat on 
 board ship, that is the truth. I came 
 
 in at the door like my betters ; but I 
 thought I heard you mention my 
 name, so I made no noise. Well, 
 here I am, anyway, and — Jack, how 
 many trips can we take these thunder- 
 ing chests in ? Let us see, eighteen 
 for the Proserpine, and forty for the 
 Shannon. Is that correct, sir ? " 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 "Tlien, if you will deliver them, 
 I '11 check the delivery aboard the 
 lighter there ; and then we '11 tow her 
 alongside the ships." 
 
 Seaton called up two more clerks, 
 and sent one to the boat, and one on 
 board the barge. The barge was 
 within hail ; so the cases were cliecked 
 as they passed out of the store, and 
 cliecked again at the small boat, and 
 also on board the lighter. When 
 they were all cleared out, Wylie gave 
 Seaton his receijit for them, and, hav- 
 ing a steam-tug in attendance, towed 
 the lighter alongside the Shannon 
 first. 
 
 Seaton carried the receipt to his 
 employer. 
 
 " But, sir," said he, " is this regular 
 for an officer of the Proserpine to take 
 the Shannon's cargo from us ? " 
 
 " No, it is not regular," said the old 
 gentleman ; and he looked through a 
 window, and summoned Mr. Hard- 
 castle. 
 
 Hardcastle explained that the Pro- 
 serpine shipped the gold, which was 
 the more valuable consignment ; and 
 that he saw no harm in tlie oflicer who 
 was so highly trusted by the merchant 
 (on this and on former occasions) 
 taking out a few tons of lead and cop- 
 j)cr to the Shannon. 
 
 " Well, sir," said Seaton, "suppose 
 I was to go out and see the chests 
 stowed in those vessels 1 " 
 
 " I think you are making a fuss 
 about nothing," said Hardcastle. 
 
 Mr. White was of the same o])inion, 
 but, being too wise to check zeal and 
 caution, told Seaton he might go for 
 his own satisfaction. 
 
 Seaton, with some difficulty, got a 
 little boat and pulled across the har- 
 bor. He found the Shannon had
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 27 
 
 shipped all the chests marked with 
 her name ; and the captain and mate 
 of the Proserpine were beginning to 
 ship theirs. He paddled under the 
 Proserpine's stern. 
 
 Captain Hudson, a rougli salt, sang 
 out, and asked him roughly what he 
 wanted tliere. 
 
 " 0, it is all right," said the mate ; 
 " he is come for your receipt and 
 Hewitt's. Be smart now, men ; two 
 on board, sixteen to come." 
 
 Seaton saw the chests marked Pro- 
 serpine stowed in the Proserpine, and 
 went ashore with Captain Hewitt's 
 receipt of forty cases on board the 
 Shannon, and Captain Hudson's of 
 eighteen on board the Proserpine. 
 
 As he landed lie met Lloyd's agent, 
 and told him wliat a valuable freight 
 he had just shipped. Tliat gentleman 
 merely remarked that both ships were 
 underwritten in Sydney by the own- 
 ers ; but the freight was insured in 
 London, no doubt. 
 
 There was still something about 
 this business Seaton did not quite 
 like ; perhaps it was in the haste of 
 the shipments, or in the manner of 
 the mate. At all events, it was too 
 slight and subtle to be communicated 
 to others with any hope of convincing 
 them ; and, moreover, Seaton could 
 not but own to himself that he hated 
 Wardhiw, and was, perhaps, no fair 
 judge of his acts, and even of the acts 
 of his servants. 
 
 And soon a blow fell that drove the 
 matter out of his head and his heart. 
 Miss Helen Rolleston called at the 
 office, and, standing within a few feet 
 of him, handed Hardcastle a letter 
 from Arthur Wardlaw, directing that 
 the ladies' cabin on board the Shan- 
 non should be placed at her disposal. 
 
 Hai'dcastle bowed low to Beauty 
 and Station, and promised her the 
 best possible accommodation on board 
 the Shannon, bound for England next 
 week. 
 
 As she retired, she cast one quiet 
 glance round the office in search of 
 Seaton's beard. But he had reduced 
 its admired luxuriance, and trimmed 
 
 it to a narrow mercantile point. She 
 did not know his other features from 
 Adam, and little thought that young 
 man, bent double over his paper, was 
 her preserver and protege ; still less 
 that he was at this moment cold as 
 ice, and quivering witli misery from 
 head to foot, because her own lips had 
 just told him she was going to Eng- 
 land in the Shannon. 
 
 Heart-broken, but still loving nobly, 
 Seaton dragged himself down to the 
 harbor, and went slowly on board the 
 Shannon to secure Miss RoUestoa 
 every comfort. 
 
 Then, sick at heart as he was, he 
 made inquiries into the condition of 
 the vessel which was to be trusted 
 with so precious a freight ; and the 
 old boatman who was rowing him, 
 hearing him make these inquiries, 
 told him he himself was always about, 
 and had noticed the Shannon's pumps 
 were going every blessed night. 
 
 Seaton carried this intelligence di- 
 rectly to Lloyd's agent ; he over- 
 hauled the ship, and ordered her into 
 the graving dock for repairs. 
 
 Then Seaton, for White and Co., 
 wrote to Miss Rolleston that the 
 Sliannon was not sea-worthy and could 
 not sail for a month, at the least. 
 
 The lady simply acknowledged 
 Messrs. White's communication, and 
 Seaton breathed again. 
 
 Wardlaw had made Miss Rolles- 
 ton promise him faithfully to sail 
 that month in his ship the Shannon. 
 Now, she was a slave to her word, 
 and constant of purpose ; so when 
 she found she could not sail in the 
 Shannon, she called again on Messrs. 
 White, and took her passage in the 
 Proserpine. The essential thing to her 
 mind was to sail when she had prom- 
 ised, and to go in a ship that belonged 
 to her lover. 
 
 The Proserpine was to sail in ten 
 days. 
 
 Seaton inquired into the state of 
 the Proserpine. She was a good, 
 sound vessel, and therawas no excuse 
 for detaining her.
 
 28 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Then ho wrestled loiiij and hard 
 with the selfisli part of his great 
 love. Instead of turning sullen, he 
 set liiniself to carry out Helen Rol- 
 Icston's will. lie went on board 
 the Proserpine and chose her the best 
 stern-eal)in. 
 
 General Rolleston had ordered 
 Helen's cabin to be furnished, and 
 the agent had put in the usual things, 
 such as a standing bedstead with 
 drawers beneath, chest of drawers, 
 small table, two chairs, wash-stand, 
 looking-glass, and swinging lamp. 
 
 But Beaton nnide several visits to 
 the ship, and effected the following 
 arrangements at his own cost. He 
 provided a neat cocoa mat for iier 
 caliin deck, for comfort and foothold : 
 he unshijiped the regular six-pancd 
 stern windows, and])ut in single pane 
 plate glass ; he fitted Venetian blinds, 
 and hung two little rose-colored cur- 
 tains to each of the windows ; all so 
 arranged as to be easily removed in 
 case it should be necessary to ship 
 dead-lights in heavy weather. He 
 glazed the door leading to her bath- 
 room and quarter-gallery with ])latc 
 glass ; he provided a light easy-chair, 
 slung and fitted with grommets, to be 
 hung on hooks screwed into the 
 beams in the midship of the cabin. 
 On this Helen could sit and read, 
 and so become insensible to the mo- 
 tion of the ship. He fitted a small 
 bookcase, with a button, which could 
 be raised when a book might be want- 
 ed ; he fixed a strike-bell in her 
 maid's cabin, communicating with 
 two strikers in Helen's cal)in ; he 
 selected imoks, taking care that the 
 voyages and travels were ])rosperous 
 ones. No " Seaman's Kecordcr," 
 "Life-boat Journal," or" Shipwrecks 
 and Disasters in the British Navy%" 
 
 Her cabin was the after-cabin on 
 the starboard side, was entered 
 thiough the cuddy, had a door com- 
 municating witli ihc (piarter-gallery, 
 two stern windows, and a dead-eye 
 on deck. Tiie maid's cabin was tiie 
 port after-cabin ; doors opened into 
 cuddy and quarter-gallery. And a 
 
 fine trouble Miss Eolleston had to 
 get a maid to accompany her ; but 
 at last a young woman ott'ercil to go 
 with her for liigh wages, dennirely 
 siqjjjressing the fact that she had just 
 married one of tiie sailors, and would 
 have gladly gone fur noiliing. • Iler 
 name was Jane Holt, and her hus- 
 band's Michael Donovan. 
 
 In one of Seaton's visits to the 
 Proserpine he detected the mate and 
 the captain talking together, and 
 looking at him with unfriendly eyes, 
 — scowling at him would hardly be 
 too strong a word. 
 
 However, he was in no state of 
 mind to care much how two animals 
 in blue jackets received his acts of 
 self-martyrdom. He was there to do 
 the last kind offices of desjiairing 
 love for the angel that had crossed 
 his daik path, and illumined it for 
 a moment, to leave it now forever. 
 
 At last the fatal evening came; her 
 last in Sydney. 
 
 Then Seaton's fortitude, sustained 
 no longer by the feverish siimulus of 
 doing kindly acts for her, began to 
 give way, and he desponded deeply. 
 
 At nine in the evening he crept 
 upon General Kolleston's lawn, where 
 he had first seen her. He sat down in 
 sullen despair, ujion the very spot. 
 
 Then he came nearer the house. 
 There was a lamp in the dining-room; 
 he looked in and saw her. 
 
 She was seated at her father's knee, 
 looking up at him fondly ; her hand 
 was in his ; the tears were in their 
 eyes ; she had no mother; he no son ; 
 they loved one another devotedl^^ 
 This, their tender gesture, and their 
 sad silence, spoke volumes to any one 
 that had known sorrow. I'oor Sea- 
 ton sat down on the dewy grass out- 
 side, and wept, because she was weep- 
 ing. 
 
 Her father sent her to bed early. 
 Seaton watched, as he Inid ofren done 
 before, till her light went out; and 
 then he flung himself on the wet 
 grass, and stared at tlie sky in utter 
 misery.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 29 
 
 The mind is often clearest in the 
 middle of tlie night ; and all of a sud- 
 den, ho saw, as if written on the sky, 
 that she was going- to England ex- 
 pressly to marry Arthur Ward law. 
 
 At tliis revelation he started up, 
 stung with liate as well as love, and 
 his t'ortured mind rebelled furiously. 
 He repeated his vow that this siioukl 
 never be ; and soon a scheme came 
 into liis liead to prevent it ; but it was 
 a project so wild and dangerous, that, 
 even as his heated brain hatched it, 
 his cooler judgment said, "Fly, mad- 
 man, fly ! or this love will destroi/ 
 you ! " 
 
 lie listened to the voice of reason, 
 and in another minute he was out 
 of the premises. He fluttered to his 
 lodgings. 
 
 When he got there he could not go 
 in ; he turned and fluttered about the 
 streets, not knowing or caring whither; 
 his mind was in a whirl ; and, what 
 with his bodily fever and his boiling 
 heart, passion began to overpower 
 reason, that iiad held out so gallantly 
 till now. He found himself at liie 
 harbor, staring with wild and blood- 
 shot eyes at the Prosei'pine, he who, 
 an hour ago, had seen that he had but 
 one tiling to do, — to try and forget 
 young Wardlaw's bride. He groaned 
 aloud, and ran wildly back into the 
 town. He hurried up and down one 
 narrow street, raging inwardly, like 
 some wild beast in its den. 
 
 By and by his mood changed, and 
 he hung round a lamp-post, and fell 
 to moaning and lamenting his hard 
 fate, and hers. 
 
 A policeman came up, took him for 
 a maudlin drunkard, and half advised, 
 half admonished, hinr to go home. 
 
 At that he gave a sort of fierce, 
 despairing snarl, and ran into, the 
 next street, to be alone. 
 
 In this street he found a shop open, 
 and lighted, though it was but five 
 o'clock in the morning. It was a 
 barber's, whose customers were work- 
 ing people. Hair-cutting, six- 
 pence. Easy shaving, three- 
 pence. Hot coffee, fourfence 
 
 THE CUP. Seaton's eye fell upon this 
 shop. He looked at it fixedly a mo- 
 ment from the opposite side of the 
 way, and then hurried on. 
 
 ilc turned suddenly and came back. 
 He crossed the road and entered the 
 shop. The barber was leaning over 
 the stove, removing a can of boiling 
 water from the fire to the hob. He 
 turned at the sound of Seaton's step, 
 and revealed an ugly countenance, 
 rendered sinister by a squint. 
 
 Scaton dropped into a chair, and 
 said, " I want my beard taken off." 
 
 The man looked at him, if it could 
 be called looking at him, and said, 
 dryly, " 0, do ye ? How much am I 
 to "have for that job ? " 
 
 " You know your own charge." 
 " Of course I do : threepence a 
 chin." 
 
 " Very well. Be quick then." 
 " Stop a bit : that is my charge to 
 working folk. I must have some- 
 thing more off" you." 
 
 "Very well, man, I'll pay you 
 double." 
 
 " My price to vou is ten shillings." 
 
 "Why, what i6 that for?" asked 
 
 Seaton, in some alarm ; he thought, 
 
 in his confusion, the man must have 
 
 read his heart. 
 
 " I '11 tell ye why," said the squint- 
 ing barber. '" No, I won't : I '11 show 
 ye." He brought a small mirror, 
 and suddenly clapped it before Sea- 
 ton's eyes. Seaton started at his own 
 image ; wild, ghastly, and the eyes so 
 bloodshot. The barber chuckled. 
 This start was an extorted compli- 
 ment to his own sagacity. " Now 
 was n't I right '] " said he ; " did I 
 ought to take the beard off^ such a 
 mug as that — for less than ten shil- 
 lings ? " 
 
 "I see," groaned Seaton; "you 
 think I have committed some crime. 
 One man sees me weeping with mis- 
 ery ; he calls me a drunkard ; another 
 sees me pale with the anguish of my 
 breaking heart ; he calls me a felon : 
 may God's curse light on him and 
 you, and all mankind ! " 
 
 " All right," said the squinting
 
 30 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 barber, apathetically ; " my price is 
 ten bob, whether or no." 
 
 Scaton felt in his pockets. " I 
 have not got the money about mc," 
 said he. 
 
 " O, I 'ra not particular ; leave 
 your watch." 
 
 Seaton handed the squinting vam- 
 pire his watch without another word, 
 and let his head fall upon his breast. 
 
 The barber cut his beard close with 
 the scissors, and made trivial remarks 
 from time to time, but received no re- 
 ply. 
 
 At last, Extortion having put him 
 in a good humor, he said, " Don't be 
 go down-hearted, my lad. You are 
 not the first that has got into trouble, 
 and had to change faces." 
 
 Seaton vouchsafed no reply. 
 
 The barber shaved him clean, and 
 ■was astonished at. the change, and 
 congratulated him. " Nobody will 
 ever know you," said he ; " and I '11 
 tell you why ; your mouth, it is in- 
 clined to turn up a little ; now a mus- 
 tache it bends down, and that alters 
 such a mouth as yours entirely. But, 
 I'll tell you what, taking off this 
 beard sliows me something : you are 
 a (jentleman! ! Make it a sovereign, 
 sir." 
 
 Seaton staggered out of the place 
 without a word. 
 
 " Sulky, eh 1 " muttered the bar- 
 ber. He" gathered up some of the 
 long hair he had cut off Seaton's chin 
 with his scissors, admired it, and put 
 it away in paper. 
 
 While thus employed, a regular 
 customer looked in for his cup of cof- 
 fee. It was the policeman who had 
 taken Seaton for a convivial soul. 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 General Rolleston's servants 
 made several trips to the Proserpine, 
 carrving boxes, etc. 
 
 But Helen herself clung to the 
 house till the last moment. " O pa- 
 pa ! " she cried, " I need all ray res- 
 
 olution, all my good faith, to keep 
 my word with Arthur, and leave you. 
 Why, why did I promise f Why am 
 I such a slave to my word ? " 
 
 " Because," said the old General, 
 with a voice not so firm as usual, 
 " I have always told you that a lady 
 is not to be inferior to a gentleman in 
 any virtue except courage. I 've 
 heard my mother say so often ; and 
 I 've taught it to my Helen. And, 
 my girl, where would he the merit of 
 keeping our word, if we only kcjit it 
 when it cost us nothing ? " 
 
 He promised to come after, in three 
 months at furthest, and the brave girl 
 dried her tears as well as she could, 
 not to add to the sadness he fought 
 against as gallantly as he had often 
 fought the enemies of his country. 
 
 The Proserpine was to sail at two 
 o'clock : at a little before one, a gen- 
 tleman boarded lier, and informed the 
 captain that he was a missionary, the 
 Rev. John Hazel, returning home, 
 after a fever ; and wished to take a 
 berth in the Proserpine. 
 
 The mate looked him full in the 
 face ; and then told him there was 
 very little accommodation for pas- 
 sengers, and it had all been secured 
 by White and Co., for a young lady 
 and her servants. 
 
 Mr. Hazel replied that his means 
 were small, and moderate accommo- 
 dation would serve him ; but he must 
 go to England without delay. 
 
 Captain Hudson put in his gracious 
 word; " Then jump off the jetty at 
 high tide and swim there ; no room 
 for black coats in my ship." 
 
 Mr. Hazel looked from one to the 
 other pitcously. " Show me some 
 mercy, gentlemen ; my very life de- 
 pends on it." 
 
 " Very sorry, sir," said the mate ; 
 " but it is impossible. Tliere 's the 
 Shannon, you can go in her." 
 
 " But she is under repairs ; so I am 
 told." 
 
 " Well, there are a hundred and 
 fifty carpenters on to her; and she 
 will come out of port in our wake." 
 
 "Now, sir," said Hudson, roughly,
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 31 
 
 " bundle down the ship's side again 
 if yon jjlease ; this is a bus\' time. 
 Hy ! — rijr the whip ; here 's the hidy 
 coming off to iis." 
 
 The missionary heaved a deep 
 sigh, and went down into tlie boat 
 that had brought iiim. But he was 
 no sooner seated than he ordered tlie 
 boatmen, somewhat peremptorily, to 
 pull ashore as fast as they could row. 
 His boat met the KoUestons, father 
 and daughter, coming out, and he 
 turned his pale face and eyed them 
 as he passed. Helen RoUeston was 
 struck with that sorrowful counte- 
 nance, and whispered her father, " That 
 poor clergyman has just left the ship." 
 She made sure he had been taking 
 leave of some beloved one, bound for 
 England. General RoUeston looked 
 round, but the boats had passed each 
 other, and the wan face was no longer 
 visible. 
 
 They were soon on board, and re- 
 ceived with great obsequiousness. 
 Helen was shown her cabin, and, 
 observing the minute and zealous 
 care that had been taken of her com- 
 fort, she said, " Somebody who loves 
 me has been here," and turned her 
 brimming eyes on her father. He 
 looked cpiite puzzled ; but said noth- 
 ing. 
 
 Father and daughter were then left 
 alone in the cabin, till the ship began 
 to heave her anchor (she lay just at 
 the mouth of the harbor), and then 
 tlie boatswain was sent to give Gen- 
 eral RoUeston warning. Helen came 
 up with him, pale and distressed. 
 They exchanged a last embrace, and 
 General RoUesron went down the 
 ship's side. Helen hung over the bul- 
 warks and waved her last adieu, 
 though she could hardly see him for 
 her tears. 
 
 At this moment a four-oared boat 
 swept alongside ; and Mr. Hazel 
 came on board again. He presented 
 Hudson a written order to give the 
 Rev. John Hazel a passage in the 
 small berth abreast the main hatches. 
 It was signed " For White and Co., 
 James Seaton " ; and v/as indorsed 
 
 with a stamped acknowledgment of 
 the passage money, twenty-seven 
 pounds. 
 
 Hudson, and Wylie the mate, put 
 their heads together over this. The 
 missionary saw them consulting, and 
 told them he had mentioned their 
 mysterious conduct to Messrs. White 
 and Co., and that Mr. Seaton had 
 promised to stop the ship if their 
 authority was resisted. " And I 
 have paid my passage money, and 
 will not be turned out now except 
 by force," said the reverend gentle- 
 man, quietly. 
 
 Wylie's head was turned away from 
 Mr. Hazel's, and on its profile a most 
 gloom}', vindictive look, so much so, 
 that Mv. Hazel was startled when the 
 man turned his front fiice to him with 
 a jolly, genial air, and said, " Well, 
 sir, the truth is, we seamen don't 
 want passengers aboard ships of this 
 class ; they get in our way whenever 
 it blows a capful. However, since 
 you are here, make yourself as com- 
 fortable as you can." 
 
 " There, that is enough palaver," 
 said the captain, in his offensive way. 
 " Hoist the parson's traps aboard ; 
 and sheer off you. Anchor's apeak." 
 
 He then gave his orders in sten- 
 torian roars ; the anchor was hove up, 
 catted, and fished ; one sail went up 
 after another, the Proserpine's head 
 came round, and away she bore for 
 England with a fair wind. 
 
 General RoUeston went slowly and 
 heavily home, and often turned his 
 head and looked wistfully at the ship 
 putting out wing upon wing, and 
 carrying off his child like a tiny 
 prey. 
 
 To change the comparison, it was 
 only a tender vine detached from a 
 great sturdy elm : yet the tree, thus 
 relieved of its delicate encum- 
 brance, felt bare ; and a soft thing 
 was gone, that, seeking jn'otection, 
 had bestowed warmth ; had nestled 
 and curled between the world's cold 
 wind and that stalwart stem. 
 
 As soon as he got home he lighted
 
 32 
 
 rOUL PLAY. 
 
 a cigar, and set to work to console 
 himself by reflecting that it was but 
 a temporary parting, since he had 
 virtually resigned his post, and was 
 only waiting in Sydney till he should 
 have handed his papers in order over 
 to his successor, and settled one or 
 two private matters that could not 
 take three montiis. 
 
 When he had smoked his cigar, and 
 reasoned away his sense of desola- 
 tion, Nature put out her hand, and 
 tooi< him by the breast, and drew him 
 gently up stairs to take a look at his 
 beloved daughter's bedroom, by way 
 of seeing tlie last of ber. 
 
 The room had one window looking 
 south, and another west ; the latter 
 commanded a view of the sea. Gener- 
 al Kolleston looked down at the floor, 
 littered with odds and ends, — the 
 dead leaves of dress that fall about a 
 lady in the great process of packing, 
 — and then gazed tiu'ough the win- 
 dow at the flying Proserpine. 
 
 He sigiied and lighted another ci- 
 gar. Before he had half flnished it, 
 he stoojjed down and took up a little 
 bow of ribbon that lay on the ground, 
 and put it quietly in his bosom. In 
 this act he was surprised by Sarah 
 Wilson, who had come up to sweep 
 all such wails and strays into her own 
 box. 
 
 " La, sir," said she, rather crossly, 
 "why didn't you tell me, and I'd 
 have tidied the room : it is all hug- 
 germugger, Avith j\Iiss a leaving." 
 
 And with this she went to the wash- 
 hand-stand to begin. General llol- 
 leston's eye followed her movements, 
 and lie observed the water in one of 
 the basins was rather red. " What ! " 
 said he, " has she had an accident ; 
 cut her linger ? " 
 
 " No, sir," said Wilson. 
 
 " Her nose been bleeding, then ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 "Not from her finger, — nor — ? 
 Let me look." 
 
 He examined the basin narrowly, 
 and his counfcnanee fell. " (jood 
 Heavens ! " said he : " I wish I had 
 seen this before ; she should not have 
 
 gone to-day. Was it the agitation of 
 parting ? " 
 
 " O no, sir," said Wilson ; " don't 
 go to fancy that. Why, it is not the 
 first time by a many." 
 
 " Not the first ! ""faltered RoUeston. 
 " In Heaven's name, whv was I never 
 told of this ? " 
 
 " Indeed, sir," said Wilson, eager- 
 ly, " you must not blame me, sir. It 
 was as much as my place was worth 
 to tell you. Miss is a young lady that 
 will be obeyed ; and she give mo 
 strict orders not to let you know : but 
 she is gone now : and I always 
 tiiought it was a pity she kept it so 
 dark ; but, as I was saying, sir, she 
 would be obeyed." 
 
 " Kept wii"at so dark ? " 
 
 " Why, sir, her spitting of blood 
 at times : and turning so thiri by 
 what she used to be, poor dear young 
 lady." 
 
 General Rolleston groaned aloud. 
 " And this she hid from me ; from me ! " 
 He said no more, but kept looking be- 
 wildered and hel|)less, first at the 
 basin, discolored by his daughter's 
 blood, and then at the Proserpine, that 
 was carrying her away, perhaps for- 
 ever ; and, at the double siglit, iiis 
 iron features worked witii cruel dis- 
 tress; anguish so mute and male, that 
 the woman Wilson, tliougli not good 
 for much, sat down and shed genuine 
 tears of pity. 
 
 But he summoned all his fortitude, 
 told Wilson he could not say she was 
 to blame, she had but obeyed her 
 mistress's orders ; and wc must all 
 obey orders. " But now," said lie, " it 
 is me you ouglit to obey : tell mo, 
 does any doctor attend her ? " 
 
 " None ever comes here, sir. But, 
 one day, she let fall that she went to 
 Dr. Valentine, him that has the name 
 for disorders of the chest." 
 
 In a very few minutes General 
 BoUeston was at Dr. Valentine's 
 house, and asked him bluntly what 
 was the nmtter witli iiis daughter. 
 
 " Disease of tiic lungs," said the 
 doctor, sinijjly. 
 
 The unhappy father then begged
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 33 
 
 flie doctor to pive Iiim his real ojiin- 
 ion fis to the de;;ree of daiiLrfr ; and 
 Dr. Valentine told him, with some 
 feeling, that the case was not despe- 
 rate, but was certainly alarming. 
 
 Remonstrated with for letting the 
 girl undertake a sea voyage, he replied 
 ratlicr evasively at first ; that the air 
 of Sydney disagreed with his patient, 
 and a sea voyage was more likely to 
 do her good than harm, provided the 
 weather was not downright tempest- 
 uous. 
 
 " And who is to insure me against 
 that ■? " asked the afflicted father. 
 
 " Wiiy, it is a good time of year," 
 said Dr. Valentine ; " and delay 
 miglit have been fatal." Then, after 
 a slight hesitation, " Tiie fact is, sir," 
 said he, " I gathered from her servant 
 that a imsband awaits Miss Rolleston 
 in England ; and I must tell you, 
 what of course I did not tell her, that 
 the sooner she enters the married state 
 the better. In fict, it is iter one 
 chance, in my opinion." 
 
 General Kollcsion pressed the doc- 
 tor's hand, and went away without 
 another word. 
 
 Only he hurried his matters of bus- 
 iness ; and took his passage in the 
 Shannon. 
 
 It was in something of a warrior's 
 spirit that lie prepared to follow his 
 daughter and protect her; but often 
 he sighed at the invisible, insidious 
 nature of the foe, and wished it could 
 have been a fair fight of bullets and 
 baj'onets, and his own the life at stake. 
 
 The Shannon was soon ready for 
 sea. 
 
 But the gentleman who was to take 
 General l-ioUeston's post met with 
 something lietter, and declined it. 
 
 General Ilolleston, though chafing 
 with impatience, had to give up going 
 liome in the Shannon. But an influ- 
 ential friend, Mr. Afloi])lius Savage, 
 was infoi-ined of his (lilHcnlty, and 
 obtained a year's leave of al)sence for 
 him, and permission to put young 
 Savage in as liis locum tenens ; which, 
 by the by, is how politic men in gen- 
 eral serve their friends. 
 
 The Shannon sailed, but not until 
 an incident had occurred that must 
 not be entirely passed over. Old Mr. 
 White called on General Rolleston 
 with a long face, and told hira James 
 Seaton had disappeared. 
 
 " Stolen anything 1 " 
 
 "Not a shilling. Indeed the last 
 thing the poor fellow did was to give 
 us a proof of his honesty. It seems 
 a passenger paid him twenty-seven, 
 pounds for a berth in the Proserpine, 
 just before she sailed. Well, sir, he 
 might have put this in his pocket, and 
 nobody been the wiser : but no, he 
 entered the transaction, and the num- 
 bers of the notes, and left the notes 
 themselves in an envelope addressed 
 to me. What I am most afraid of is, 
 that some harm has come to him, poor 
 lad." 
 
 " Wiiat dav did he disappear? " 
 
 " The nth of November." 
 
 " The day my daughter sailed for 
 England," said General Rolleston, 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 " Was it, sir ? Yes, I remember. 
 She went in the Proserpine." 
 
 General Rolleston knitted his brows 
 in silence for some time ; then he said, 
 " I '11 set the Detectives on his track." 
 
 " Not to punish him. General. We 
 do not want him punished." 
 
 "To punish him, protect him, or 
 avenge him, as the case may re- 
 quire," was the reply, uttered very 
 gravely. 
 
 Mr. White took his leave. General 
 Rolleston rang the hell, .and directed 
 his servant to go for Hexham, the 
 Detective. 
 
 He then rang the bell again, and 
 sent for Sarah \yilson. He put some 
 searching questions to this woman; 
 and his interrogatory had hardly con- 
 cluded when Hexham was announced. 
 General Rolleston dismissed the girl, 
 and, looking now very grave indeed, 
 asked the Detective whether he re- 
 memliered James Seaton. 
 
 " Tliat I do, sir." 
 
 " He has levanted." 
 ^•" Taken much, sir 1 " 
 
 " Not a shilling."
 
 34 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 " Gone to the digp;inp:s ? " 
 
 " That you must hiid out." 
 
 " What day was he tirst missed, 
 sir ? " 
 
 " Eleventh of Novcmher. The very 
 day i\Iiss llolleston left." 
 
 Hexham took out a little greasy 
 note-book, and examined it. " Elev- 
 en tli of November," .said lie, " then 
 I almost think I liave got a clew, sir; 
 but I shall know more when I have 
 had a word with two parties." With 
 this he retired. 
 
 But he came again at night, and 
 brought General Rolleston some posi- 
 tive infornuition ; with this, however, 
 we shall not trouble the reader just 
 here : for General Rolleston himself 
 related it, and the person to whom he 
 did relate it, and the attendant circum- 
 stances, gave it a jieculiar interest. 
 
 Suffice it to say here, that General 
 Rolleston went on board the Shannon, 
 ciiarged with curious information 
 about James Seaton ; and sailed for 
 England in the wake of the Proserpine, 
 and about two thousand miles astern. 
 
 CHAPTER Vin. 
 
 W.VRDLAAV was at home before this 
 ■with his hands full of business ; and it 
 is time the reader should be let into 
 one secret at least, which this mer- 
 chant had contrived to conceal from 
 the City of London, and from his own 
 father, and from every human creature, 
 excej)t one poor, simple, devoted soul, 
 called Michael Penfold. 
 
 Tiicre are men, who seem stupid, 
 yet generally go right ; theie are also 
 clever men, who appear to have the 
 art of blundering wisely : " sapienter 
 descenduut in infernum," as the ancients 
 have it ; and some of these latter will 
 even lie on their backs, after a fall, 
 and lift up their voices, and prove to 
 you that in the nature of things they 
 ought to have gone up, and their being 
 down is monstrous; illnsory. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw was not quite so 
 clever as all that ; but still he mis- 
 
 conducted the business of the firm with 
 perfect ability from the first month he 
 entered on it. Like those ambitious 
 railways, which ruin a goodly trunk 
 with excess of branches, not to say 
 twigs, he set to work extending, and 
 extending, and sent the sap of the 
 healthy old concern a flj'ing to the 
 ends of the earth. 
 
 He was not only too ambitious, and 
 not cool enough ; he was also unlucky, 
 or under a curse, or something ; for 
 things well conceived broke down, 
 in his hands, under petty accidents. 
 And, besides, his new correspondents 
 and agents hit him cruelly hard. 
 Then what did he ? Why, shot good 
 money after bad, and lost both. He 
 could not retrench, for his game was 
 concealment ; his father was kept in 
 the dark, and drew his four thousand 
 a year, as usual, and, upon any hesi- 
 tation in that respect, would have 
 called in an accountant and wound up 
 the concern. But this tax upon the 
 receipts, though inconvenient, was a 
 trifle compared with the series of heavy 
 engagements that were impending. 
 The future was so black, that Ward- 
 law junior was sore tempted to realize 
 twenty thousand pounds, which a man 
 in his position could easily do, and fly 
 the country. But this would have 
 been to give up Helen Rolleston ; 
 and he loved her too well. His brain 
 was naturally subtle and feitile in ex- 
 pedients ; so he brought all its jjowers 
 to bear on a double problem, — how to 
 marry Helen, and restore the concern 
 he had mismanaged to its former state. 
 For this, a large sum of money Avas 
 needed, not less than £ 90,000. 
 
 The difficulties were great ; but he 
 entered on this project with two ad- 
 vantages. In the first place, he en- 
 joyed excellent credit ; in the second, 
 lie was not disposed to be scrupulous. 
 He had been cheated several times ; 
 and nothing undermines feeble recti- 
 tude more than that. Such a man as 
 Wardlaw is ajit to cstal)lish a sort of 
 account current with humanity. 
 
 " Several fellow-creatures have 
 cheated me. Well, I must get as
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 35 
 
 ini;ch back, by hook or by crook, 
 from several fellow-creatures." 
 
 After much hard thought, he con- 
 ceived his double master-stroke : and 
 it was to execute this he went out to 
 Australia. 
 
 We have seen that he persu.ided 
 Helen Kolleston to come to England 
 and be -married; but, as to the other 
 part of his project, that is a matter 
 for the reader to watch, as it develops 
 itself. 
 
 His first act of business, on reaching 
 England, was to insure the freights of 
 the Proserpine and the Shannon. 
 
 He sent JMichael Penfold to Lloyd's, 
 with the requisite vouchers, including 
 the receipts of the gold merchants. 
 Penfold easily insured the Shannon, 
 whoso freight was valued at only six 
 thousand pounds. The Proserpine, 
 witii her cargo, and a hundred and 
 thirty thovisand pounds of specie to 
 boot, was another matter. Some 
 underwriters had an objection to 
 specie, being subject to theft as well 
 as shipvi'reck ; other underwriters, ap- 
 plied toby Penfold, acquiesced ; others 
 called on Wardlaw himself, to ask a 
 few questions, and he replied to them 
 courteously, but with a certain non- 
 chalance, treating it as an afl^'air which 
 might be big to them, but was not of 
 particular importance to a merchant 
 doing business on his scale. 
 
 To one underwriter, Condell, with 
 whom he was on somewhat intimate 
 terms, he said, " I wish I could insure 
 the Shannon at her value ; but that 
 is impossible : the City of London 
 could not do it. The Proserpine 
 brings me some cases of specie, but 
 my true treasure is on board the 
 Shannon. She carries my bride, sir." 
 
 " O indeed ! Miss Rolleston ? " 
 
 " All, I remember ; you have seen 
 her. Then you will not be surprised 
 at a proposal I shall make you. 
 Underwiite the Shannon a million 
 pounds, to be paid by you if harm be- 
 falls my Helen. You need not look 
 so astonished; I was only joking; 
 you gentlemen deal with none but 
 substantial values ; and, as for me, a 
 
 million would no more compensate 
 mc for losing her, than for losing my 
 own life." 
 
 The tears were in his pale eyes as 
 he said these words ; and Mr. Condell 
 eyed him with sympathy. But he 
 soon recovered himself, and was the 
 man of business again. " 0, the spe- 
 cie on board the Proserpine? Well, 
 I was in Australia, you know, and 
 bought that specie myself of the mer- 
 chants whose names are attached to 
 the receipts. I deposited the cases 
 with White and Co., at Sydney. 
 Penfold will show you the receipt. I 
 instructed Joseph Wylie, mate of the 
 Proserpine, and a trustworthy person, 
 to see them stowed away in the Pro- 
 serpine, by White and Co. Hudson is 
 a good seaman ; and the Proserpine 
 a new ship, built by Mare. We 
 have nothing to fear but the ordinary 
 perils of the sea." 
 
 " So one would think," said Mr. 
 Condell, and took his leave ; but, at 
 the door, he hesitated, and then, look- 
 ing down a little sheepishly, said, 
 "Mr. Wardlaw, may I oifer you a 
 piece of advice ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Then, double the insurance on the 
 Shannon, if 3'ou can." 
 
 With these words he slipped out, 
 evidently to avoid questions he did not 
 intend to answer. 
 
 Wardlaw stared after him, stupidly 
 at first, and then stood up and put his 
 hand to his head in a sort of amaze- 
 ment. Then he sat down again, ashy 
 pale, and with the dew on his fore- 
 head, and muttered ftiintly, "Double 
 — the insurance — of the — Shan- 
 non ! " 
 
 Men who walk in crooked paths 
 are very subject to such surprises ; 
 doomed, like Ahab, to be pierced, 
 through the joints of their armor, by 
 random shafts ; by words uttered in 
 one sense, but conscience interprets 
 them in another. 
 
 It took a good many underwriters 
 to insure the Proserpine's freight ; 
 but the business was done at last.
 
 36 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Then Wardlaw, -who had feijrnod 
 insouciance so admiraldy in that j)art 
 of liis interview witli ConcUll, went, 
 without losing an hour, anil raised a 
 large sum of money on tlic insured 
 freiglit, to meet the bills that were 
 coming due for the gold (for he had 
 paid for most of it in paper at short 
 dates), and also otiier bills that were 
 approaching maturity. This done, 
 he hreatlu'd again, safe for a month or 
 two from everything short of a gen- 
 eral panic, and full of hope from 
 his coming master-stroke. But two 
 months soon pass when a man has 
 a flock of kites in the air. Pass ? 
 They fly. So now he looked out 
 anxiously for his Australian ships ; 
 and went to Lloyd's every day to 
 hear if eitlier had been seen, or heard 
 of by steamers, or by faster sailing 
 vessels than themselves. 
 
 And, though Condell had under- 
 written the Proserpine to the tunc of 
 eight thousand pounds, yet still his 
 m3'Sterious words rang strangely in 
 the merchant's cars, and made him 
 so uneasy, that he employed a discreet 
 person to sound Condell as to what 
 he meant by " double the insurance 
 of the Shannon." 
 
 It turned out to he the simplest af- 
 fair in the world ; Condell had seci-et 
 information that the Shannon was in 
 bad repairs, so he had advised his 
 friend to insure her heavily. For 
 the same reason, he declined to under- 
 write her freight himself. 
 
 "Witli respect to those ships, our 
 readers already know two things, of 
 which Wardlaw himself, nola bene, 
 had no ide;i ; namely that the Shan- 
 non had sailed last, instead of first, 
 and that Miss Rolleston was not on 
 board of her, but in the Proserpine, 
 two thousand miles ahead. 
 
 To that, your superior knowledge, 
 we, posters of the sea and hind, are 
 about to make a large addition, and 
 relate things strange, but true. While 
 that anxious and plotting merchant 
 strains his eyes seaward, trying hard 
 to read the future, we carry you, in a 
 moment of time, across the Pacific, 
 
 and board the leading vessel, the good 
 ship Proserpine, homeward hound. 
 
 The sliip left Sydney with a fair 
 wind, but soon cncountereil adverse 
 weather, and made slow piogress, be- 
 ing close-haided, which was lier worst 
 point of sailing. She pitched a good 
 deal, and that had a very ill eflfect on 
 Miss Rolleston. She was not sea- 
 sick, but thoroughly out of sorts : 
 and, in one week, became perceptibly 
 paler and thinner than when she 
 started. 
 
 The young clergyman, Mr. Hazel, 
 watched her with respectful anxiety, 
 and this did not escape her feminine 
 observation. She noted quietly that 
 those dark eyes of his followed her 
 with a mournful tenderness, but with- 
 drew their gaze when she looked at 
 him. Clearly, he was interested in 
 her, but had no desire to intrude upon 
 her attention. He would bring up 
 the squabs for her, and some of his 
 own wraps, when she stayed on deck, 
 and was prompt with his arm when 
 the vessel lurclied ; and showed her 
 those other little attentions which 
 are called for on board ship, but with- 
 out a word. Yet, when she thanked 
 him in the simplest and shortest way, 
 his great eyes flashed with plcasuic, 
 and the color mounted to his very 
 temples. 
 
 Engaged young ladies arc, for vari- 
 ous reasons, more sociable with the 
 other sex than those who are still on 
 the universal mock-defensive : a ship, 
 like a distant country, thaws even 
 English reserve, and women in gen- 
 eral are disposed to admit ecclesiastics 
 to certain privileges. No wonder then 
 that Miss llolleston, after a few days, 
 met Mr. Hazel half-way ; and they 
 made acquaintance on board the Pro- 
 serpine, in monosyllables at first; 
 but, tlie ice once fairly broken, the in- 
 tt'reourse of mind became rather raj)- 
 id. 
 
 At first it was a mere intellectual 
 exchange, but one very agreeable to 
 Miss Rolleston ; for a fine memory, 
 and omnivorous reading from his very 
 boyhood, with the habit of taking
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 37 
 
 notes, and reviewing them, had made 
 Mr. lluzel a walkinjj; dictionary, and a 
 walking essayist if required. 
 
 But when it came to something 
 which most of all the young lady had 
 hoped from tliis temporary acquaint- 
 ance, viz. religious instruction, she 
 fouml him indeed as learned on that 
 as on otiicr topics, but cold, and de- 
 void of unction : so much so, that one 
 dav she said to him, "I can hardly 
 believe von have ever been a mission- 
 ary." But at that he seemed so dis- 
 tressed, tliat she was sorry for him, 
 and said, sweetly, " Excuse me, JNIr. 
 Haz.'l, my remark was in rather bad 
 taste, I fear." 
 
 " Not at all," said he. " Of course 
 I am unfit for missionary work, or I 
 should ml be here." 
 
 jMiss Rolleston took a good look at 
 him, but said nothing. However, his 
 reply and her p;.'rusal of his counte- 
 nance satislied her thvt he was a man 
 with very little petty vanity and petty 
 irritabilit)^ 
 
 One day they were discoursing of 
 gratitude ; and Mr. Hazel said he had 
 a poor opinion of those persons who 
 speak of " the burdv^'n of gratitude," 
 and make a fuss about being " laid 
 under an obligation." 
 
 "As for me," said he, " I have owed 
 sueh a debt, and found the sense of it 
 very sweet." 
 
 " But perhaps you were always 
 hoping to make a return," said Helen. 
 " That I was : hoping against 
 hope." 
 
 " Do you think people are grateful, 
 in general 1 " 
 
 " No, Miss Rolleston, I do not." 
 " Well, 1 think they are. To me 
 at least. Why, I have experienced 
 gratitude even in a convict. It was a 
 poor man, who had been transported, 
 for something or other, and he begged 
 papa to take him for his gardcnei'. 
 Papa did, and he was so grateful that, 
 do j^ou know, he suspected our house 
 was to be robbed, and he actually 
 watched in the ganlen niiiht after 
 night: and, what do you think? the 
 house was attacked by a whole gang ; 
 
 but poor Mr. Seaton confronted tlieni 
 and shot one, and was wounded cru- 
 elly ; but he beat them off for us ; and 
 was not that gratitude '? " 
 
 While she was speaking so ear- 
 nestly, Mr. Hazel's blood seemed to 
 run "through his veins like heavenly 
 tire, but he said nothing, and the lady 
 resumed with gentle fervor, " Well, 
 we got him a clerk's place in a ship- 
 ping-office, and heard no more of 
 him ; but he did not forget us ; my 
 cabin here was fitted up with ev- 
 ery comfort, and every delicacy. I 
 tiianked papa for it ; but he looked so 
 blank I saw directly he knew noth- 
 ing about it; and, now I think of it, 
 it was Mr. Seaton. I am positive it 
 was. Poor fellow ! And I should not 
 even know him if I saw him." 
 
 Mr. Hazel observed, in a low voice, 
 that Mr. Seaton's conduct did not 
 seem wonderful to him. " Still," said 
 he, " one is glad to find there is some 
 good left even in a criminal." 
 
 " A criminal ! " cried Helen Rolles- 
 ton, firing up. "Pray, who says he 
 was a criminal ? Mr. Hazel, once for 
 all, no friend of mine ever deserves 
 such a name as that. A friend of 
 mine may commit some great error or 
 imprudence ; but that is all. The 
 poor grateful soul M'as never guilty 
 of any downright wickedness : that 
 standi to reason." 
 
 ]\Ir. Hazel did not encounter this 
 feminine logic with his usual al>ility; 
 he muttered something or other, with 
 a trembling lip, and left her so abrupt- 
 ly, that she asked herself whether she 
 had inadvertently said anything that 
 could have otfendcd him ; and await- 
 ed an ex])lanation. But none came. 
 The topic was never revived by Mr. 
 Hazel ; and his manner, at tlieir next 
 meeting, showed he liked her none 
 the worse that she stood up for her 
 friends. 
 
 The wind steady from the west for 
 two whole days, and the Proserpine 
 showed her best sailing qualities, and 
 ran four hundred and fifty miles in 
 that time.
 
 38 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Then came a dead calm, and tlie 
 sails llappetl lazily, and tlio masts de- 
 scribed ail arc ; and tlio sun broiled ; 
 and the sailors whistled ; and the 
 captain drank; and the mate encour- 
 aged him. 
 
 During this calm Miss Rolleston 
 fell downright ill, and quitted the 
 deck. Then Mr. Hazel was very sad : 
 borrowed all the hooks in the ship, 
 and read them, and took notes ; and, 
 when he had done this, he wa.s at lei- 
 sure to read men, and so began to 
 study Hiram Hudson, Joseph Wylie, 
 and others, and take a few notes about 
 them. 
 
 From these we select some that are 
 better worth the reader's attention 
 than anything we could relate in our 
 own persons at this stagnant part of 
 the story. 
 
 PASSAGES FROM ME. HA- 
 ZEL'S DIARY. 
 
 " Characters on board the 
 Proserpine. 
 
 " There are two sailors, messmates, 
 •n'ho have formed an antic|uc friend- 
 ship ; their names are John Welch 
 and Samuel Cooper. Welch is a very 
 able seaman and a chatterbox. Cooper 
 is a good sailor, but very silent ; only 
 what he does say is much to the pur- 
 pose. 
 
 " The gabble of Welch is agreeable 
 to the silent Cooper ; and Welch ad- 
 mires Cooper's taciturnity. 
 
 " I asked Welch what made him 
 like Cooper so much. And he said, 
 ' Why, you see, sir, he is my mess- 
 mate, for one thinjr, and a seaman 
 that knows his work ; and then he has 
 been well cddycated, and he knows 
 when to hold his tongue, does Sam.' 
 
 " I asked Cooper why he was so 
 fond of Welch. He only grunted in 
 an uneasy way at first ; hut, when I 
 pressed for a reply, he let out two 
 words, — ' Capital company ' ; and got 
 a\\ay from me. 
 
 " Their friendship, though often 
 roughly expressed, is really a tender 
 and touching sentiment I think ei- 
 
 ther of these sailors would bare his 
 back and take a dozen lashes in place 
 of his messmate. 1 too once thought 
 I iiad made such a friend. Eheu ! 
 
 " Both Cooper and Welch seem, by 
 their talk, to consider the ship a liv- 
 ing creature. Cooper chews. Welch 
 only smokes, and often lets his pipe 
 out : he is so voluble. 
 
 " Captain Hudson is quite a char- 
 acter : or, I might say two charac- 
 ters ; for he is one man when he is 
 sober, and another when he is the 
 worse for liquor : and that I am sorry 
 to see is very often. Captain Hudson, 
 sober, is a rough, bearish seaman, 
 with a quick, experienced eye, that 
 takes in every rope in the ship, as he 
 walks np and down his quarter-deck. 
 He either evades or bluntly declines 
 conversation, and gives his whole 
 mind to sailing his ship. 
 
 '■ Captain Hudson, drunk, is a gar- 
 i-nlous man, who seems to have drift- 
 ed back into the past. He comes up 
 to you and talks of his own accord, 
 and always about himself, and what 
 he did fifteen or twenty years since. 
 He forgets whatever has occurred half 
 an hour ago ; and his eye, which was 
 an eagle's, is now a mole's. He no 
 longer sees what his sailors are doing 
 alow or aloft; to be sure he no longer 
 caves ; his present ship may take care 
 of herself while he is talking of his 
 past ones. But the surest indicia of 
 inebriety in Hudson are these two. 
 First, his nose is red. Secondly, he 
 discourses npon a seaman' tiduti/ to his 
 cinploijfrs. Ebrius rings the changes 
 on his 'duty to his employers ' till 
 drowsiness attacks his hearers. Cicero 
 de officiis was all very well at a certain 
 period of one's life : but bibulus nauta 
 deofficiis is rather too much. 
 
 " N. B. Except when his nose is 
 red not a word about his ' duty to his 
 employers.' That pin-ase, like a fine 
 lady, never ventures into the morning 
 air. It is purely post-prandial, and 
 sacred to occasions when he is utterly 
 neglecting his duty to his employers, 
 and to everybody else. 
 
 "All this is ridiculous enough, but
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 39 
 
 somewhat alarming. To think that 
 her precious life should be intrusted 
 to the care and skill of so unreliable a 
 captain ! 
 
 "Joseph Wylie, the mate, is less 
 eccentric, but even more remarkaljlc. 
 He is one of those powerfully built 
 fellows whom Nature, one would 
 think, constructed to gain all their ends 
 by force and directness. But no such 
 thing ; he goes about as softly as a 
 cat ; is always popping out of holes 
 and corners ; and 1 can see he watches 
 me, and tries to hear what I say to 
 her. He is civil to me when I speak 
 to him ; yet I notice he avoids me 
 quietly. Altogether, there is some- 
 thing about* him that puzzles me. 
 Why was he so reluctant to let me on 
 board as a passenger 1 Why did he 
 tell a downright falsehood ? For he 
 said there was no room for me ; yet, 
 even now, there are two cabins va- 
 cant, and he has taken possession of 
 them. 
 
 " The mate of this ship has several 
 barrels of spirits in his cabin, or 
 rather, cabins, and it is he who makes 
 the captain drunk. I learned this 
 from one of the boys. This looks 
 ugly. I fear Wylie is a bad, design- 
 ing man, who wishes to ruin the cap- 
 tain, and so get his place. But, mean- 
 time, the ship might be endangered 
 by this drunkard's misconduct. I 
 shall watch Wylie closely, and per- 
 haps put the captain on his guard 
 against this false i'riend. 
 
 " Last night, a breeze got up about 
 sunset, and H. R. came on deck for 
 half an hour. I welcomed her as 
 calmly as I could ; but I felt my voice 
 tremble and my heart throb. She 
 told me the voyage tired her much ; 
 but it was the last she should have to 
 make. How strange, how hellish 
 (God forgive me for saying so!) it 
 seems that she should love him. But, 
 does she love him 1 Can she love 
 him ? Could she love him if she 
 knew all ? Know him she shall before 
 she marries him. For the present, be 
 still, my heart. 
 
 " She soon went below and left me 
 desolate. I wandered all about the 
 ship, and, at last, I came upon the 
 inseparables, Welch and Cooper. 
 Tliey were squatted on the deck, and 
 Welch's tongue was going as usual. 
 He was talking about this Wylie, and 
 saying that, in all his ships, he had 
 neVer known such a mate as this ; 
 why, the captain was under his thumb. 
 He then gave a string of captains, 
 each of whom would have given his 
 mate a round dozen at the gangway, 
 if he had taken so much on him as 
 this one does. 
 
 " ' Grog ! ' suggested Cooper, in ex- 
 tenuation. 
 
 " Welch admitted Wylie was lib- 
 eral with that, and friendly enough 
 with the men ; but, still, he preferred 
 to see a ship commanded by the 
 captain, and not by a lubber like 
 Wylie. 
 
 " I expressed some surprise at this 
 term, and said I had envied Wylie's 
 nerves in a gale of wind we encoun- 
 tered early in the voyage. 
 
 " The talking sailor explained, 'In 
 course, he has been to sea afore this, 
 and weathered many a gale. But so 
 has the cook. That don't make a 
 man a sailor. You ask him how to 
 send down a to'-gallant yard or gam- 
 mon a bowsprit, or even mark a lead 
 line, and he '11 stare at ye, like Old 
 Nick, when the angel caught him 
 with the red-hot tongs, and ques- 
 tioned him out of the Church Cate- 
 chism. Ask Sam there, if ye don't 
 believe me. Sam, what do you think 
 of this Wylie for a seaman 'i ' 
 
 " Cooper could not aflfbrd anything 
 so precious, in ids estimate of things, 
 as a word ; but he lifted a great 
 brawny hand, and gave a snap with 
 his finger and thumii, that disposed 
 of the mate's pretensions to seaman- 
 ship more expressively than words 
 could have done it. 
 
 " The breeze has freshened, and 
 the ship glides rapidly through the 
 water, bearing us all homeward. 
 Helen Rolleston has resumed her 
 place upon the deck ; and all seems
 
 40 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 bright again. I ask mysclfhowwc 
 
 existed without the siglit of lier. 
 
 " This moniiiig tlie wind shifted to 
 the soutliwest ; tlie captain sufprised 
 us by taking- in sail. But his sober 
 eye had seen something more than 
 ours ; i'or at noon it blew a gale, and 
 by sunset it was deemed prudent to 
 bring the shi])'s head to the wind, 
 and wc arc now lying to. The siiip 
 lurches, and the wind howls through 
 the bate rigging ; but she rides buoy- 
 antly, and no danger is apprehended. 
 
 "Last night, as I biy in my cabin, 
 unable to sleep, I heard some heavy 
 blows strike tlie ship's side repeatedly, 
 causing quite a vibration. I ielt 
 alarmed, and went out to tell the cap- 
 tain. But I was ol)liged to go on my 
 hands and knees, sueli was the force 
 of the wind. Passing the mate's cab- 
 in, 1 heard sounds that made me listen 
 acutely ; and I then found the blows 
 were being struck inside the ship. I 
 got to the captain and told him. ' O,' 
 said he, ' ten to one it 's the mate 
 nailing down his chests, or the like.' 
 But 1 assured him tlie blows struck 
 the side of the ship, and, at my car- 
 nest request, he came out and listened. 
 He swore a great oath, and said the 
 lubber would be through the ship's 
 side. He then tried the cabin door, 
 but it was locked. 
 
 " The sounds ceased directly. 
 
 " We called to the mate, "but i-c- 
 ccivcd no re])]y for a long time. At 
 last \Vylic came out of the gun-room, 
 looking rather pale, and asked what 
 was the mattei'. 
 
 " I told him he ought to know best, 
 for the blows were heard where he had 
 just come fiom. 
 
 " ' Blows ! ' said he ; ' I believe you. 
 Why, a tierce of butter had got adrift, 
 and was bumping up and down the 
 hold like thunder.' Ho then asked us 
 whether that was what we had dis- 
 ttirbed him for, entered his cabin, and 
 almost slammeil the door in our faces. 
 
 " I remarked to the captain on bis 
 disrespectful conduct. The captain 
 was civil, and said I was right ; he 
 
 was a cross-grained, unmanageable 
 brute, and he wished he was out of the 
 ship. ' But you see, sir, he has got the 
 ear of the merchant ashore ; and so I 
 am obliged to hold a candle to the 
 Devil, as the saying is.' He then (iicd 
 a volley of oaths and abuse at the of- 
 fender ; and, not to encourage ibul 
 language, I retired to my caliin. 
 
 " The wind declined towards day- 
 break, and the ship recommenced her 
 voyage at 8 A. M. ; but under treble- 
 reefed topsails and reefed courses. 
 
 " I caught the captain and mate 
 talking togeOicr in the; friendliest way 
 possible. That Hudson is a humbug ; 
 there is some mystery between him 
 and the mate. 
 
 " To-day H. R. was on deck, for 
 several hours, conversing sweetly, and 
 looking like the angel she is. But 
 happiness soon flies from me ; a 
 steamer came in sight, bound for Syd- 
 ney. She signalled us to heave to, 
 and send a boat. This was done, and 
 the boat brought back a letter for her. 
 It seems they took us for the Shan- 
 non, in which ship she was expected. 
 
 " 'i'he letter was from him. How 
 her cheek flushed and her eye beamed 
 as she took it. And O the sadness, 
 the agony, that stood beside her un- 
 heeded. 
 
 " I left the deck ; I could not have 
 contained myself What a thing is 
 wealth ! By wealth, that wretch can 
 stretch out his hand acro.^s the ocean, 
 and put a letter into her hand under 
 my very eye. Away goes all that I 
 have gained by being near her while 
 he is far away. He is not in England 
 now, — he is here. His odious ])ics- 
 cnce has driven me from her. O that 
 I could be a child again, or in my 
 grave, to get away from litis Hell of 
 Love and Hate." 
 
 At this ]ioint, we beg leave to take 
 the narrative into our own hands 
 again. 
 ' Mr. Hazel actually left the deck to 
 avoid the sight of Helen Holleston's 
 flushed dieek aiul l)eaming eyes, read- 
 ing Arthur Wardlaw's letter.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 41 
 
 And here we may as well observe 
 that he retired not merely because the 
 torture was hard to bear. He liad 
 some disclosures to make, on reacl)in<^ 
 England; but his good sense told him 
 this was not the time or the place to 
 make them, nor Helen Rollesion tlie 
 person to whom, in the tirst instance, 
 they ought to be made. 
 
 While he tries to relieve his swell- 
 ing heart by putting its throbs on 
 paper (and, in truth, this is some 
 faint relief, for want of which many 
 a less unhappy man than Hazel has 
 gone mad), let us stay by the lady's 
 side, and read her letter with her. 
 
 RcssELL Square, Dec. 15, 1S65. 
 
 " My dear Love : — Hearing that 
 the Antelope steam-packet was going 
 to Sydney, by way of Cape Horn, I 
 have begged the captain, who is un- 
 der some obligations to me, to keep a 
 good lookout for the Shannon, home- 
 Avard bound, and board her with these 
 lines, weather permitting. 
 
 " Of course the ciiances are yon 
 will not receive them at sea ; but still 
 you possibly may ; and m^' heart is so 
 full of you, I seize any excuse for 
 overflowing; and then I pictui'C to 
 myself that bright face reading an un- 
 expected letter in mid-ocean, and so I 
 taste beforehand the greatest pleasure 
 my mind can conceive, — the delight 
 of giving you pleasure, my own sweet 
 Helen. 
 
 " News, I have little. You know 
 how dee])ly and devotedly you are 
 beloved, — know it so well that I feel 
 ■words are almost wasted in repeating 
 it. Indeed, the time, I liope, is at 
 hand when the word ' love' will hardly 
 he mentioned between us. For my 
 part, I think it will be too visible in 
 every act, and look, and word of mine, 
 to need repctiiion. We do not speak 
 nuich aliout the air we live in. We 
 breathe it, and speak with it, not of it. 
 
 " I suppose all lovers are jealous. 
 I think 1 should go mad if 3-ou were 
 to give me a rival ; but then I do not 
 understand that ill-natured jealousy 
 whicli would rob the beloved object 
 
 of all aflfections but the one. I know 
 my Helen loves her father, — loves 
 him, perhaps, as well, or better, than 
 she does me. Well, in spite of that, 
 I love him too. Do you know, I 
 never see that erect form, that model 
 of courage and probity, come into a 
 room, but I say to myself, ' Here 
 comes my benefactor ; hut for this 
 man there would be no Helen in the 
 world.' Well, dearest, an unexpected 
 circumstance has given me a little 
 military influence (these things do 
 happen in the City) ; and I really be- 
 lieve that, what with his acknowl- 
 edged merits (I am secretly informed 
 a very high personage said, the other 
 day, he had not received justice), and 
 the influence I sr)eak of, a post will 
 shortly be oflTered to your father that 
 will enable him to live, henceforth, in 
 England, with comfort, I might say, 
 affluence. Perhaps he mi^ht live 
 with us. Tiiat depends upon him- 
 self. 
 
 " Looking forward to this, and my 
 own still greater happiness, diverts 
 my mind awhile from the one ever- 
 pressing anxiety. But, alas ! it will 
 return. By this time my Helen is 
 on the seas, — the terrible, the treach- 
 erous, the cruel seas, that spare 
 neither beauty nor virtue, nor the 
 longing hearts at home, I have con- 
 ducted this office for some years, and 
 thought I knew care and anxiety. 
 But i find I knew neither till now. 
 
 " I have two ships at se i, the Shan- 
 non and the Proserpine. The Proser- 
 pine carries eighteen chests of specie, 
 worth a hundred and thirty thousand 
 pounds. I don't care one straw wheth- 
 er she sinks or swims. But the Shan- 
 non carries my darling ; and every gust 
 at nii^ht awakens me, and every day I 
 go into the great room at Lloyd's 
 and watch the anemometer. O God ! 
 be merciful, and bring my angel safe 
 to me ! () God ! be just, and strike 
 her not for my offences ! 
 
 " Besides tiie direct perils of the 
 sea are some others you might escape 
 by prudence. Pray avoid the night 
 air, for my sake, who could not live
 
 42 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 if any evil befell you ; and be careful 
 in your diet. You were not looking 
 so well as usual when I left. AV^ould 
 I had words to make you know your 
 own value. Tlien you would feel it 
 a dutji to be prudent. 
 
 " But I must not sadden you with 
 my fears ; let me turn to my hopes. 
 How bright they are ! what joy, what 
 lia])i)ine.ss, is sailing towards me, 
 nearer and nearer ever}' day ! I ask 
 myself what am I that such paradise 
 should be mine. 
 
 " My love, when we are one, shall 
 we share every thought, or shall I 
 keep commei'ce, speculation, and its 
 temptations away from your pure 
 spirit ? Sometimes I think I should 
 like to have neither iliDugiit nor oc- 
 cupation unshared by you ; and that 
 you would purify trade itself by your 
 contact ; at other times I say to my- 
 self, ' 0, never soil that angel with 
 your miserable business ; but go 
 home to her as if you were going 
 from earth to heaven, for a few bliss- 
 ful hours.' But you shall decide this 
 question, and every other. 
 
 " IMust I close this letter ? Must I 
 say no more, though I have scarcely 
 begun 1 
 
 " Yes, I will end, since, perhaps, 
 you will never see it. 
 
 " When I have sealed it, I mean to 
 hold it in my clasped hands, and so 
 pray the Almighty to take it safe to 
 you, and to bring you safe to him 
 who can never know peace nor joy 
 till he sees you once more. 
 
 " Your devoted and anxious lover, 
 " Arthur Wakdlaw." 
 
 Helen Kolleston read this letter 
 more than once. She liked it none 
 the less for being disconnected and 
 unbusiness-like. She had seen her 
 Artiuir's business letters ; models of 
 courteous conciseness. She did not 
 value such comjiositions. This one 
 she did. She smiled over it, all beam- 
 ing and blushing ; she kissed it, and 
 read it again, and sat w^itli it in her 
 lap. 
 
 But by and by her mood changed, 
 
 and, when Mr. Hazel ventured upon 
 deck again, he found her with her 
 forehead sinking on her extended arm, 
 and the lax hand of that same arm 
 holding the letter. She was crying. 
 
 The whole drooping attitude was 
 so lovely, so feminine, yet so sad, 
 that Hazel stood irresolute, looking 
 wistfully at her. 
 
 She caught sight of him, and, by a 
 natural impulse, turned gently away, 
 as if to hide her tears. I3ut the next 
 moment she altered her mind, and 
 said, with a quiet dignity that came 
 naturally to her at times, " Why 
 should I hide my care from you, sir? 
 Mr. Hazel, may I speak to you as a 
 cler(j)jman ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said Mr. Hazel, in a 
 somewhat faint voice. 
 
 She pointed to a seat, and he sat 
 down near her. 
 
 She was silent for some time ; her 
 lip quivered a little ; she was strug- 
 gling inwardly for that decent com- 
 posure which on certain occasions 
 distinguishes tlie lady from the mere 
 woman ; and it was with a pretty 
 firm voice she said what follows : — 
 
 " I am going to tell you a little 
 secret : one I have kept from my 
 own father. It is, — that I have not 
 very long to live." 
 
 Her hazel eye rested calmly on his 
 face while she said these words 
 quietly. 
 
 He received them with amazement 
 at first ; ainazement, that soon deep- 
 ened into horror. " What do you 
 mean ? " he gasped. " What words 
 are these 1 " 
 
 " Thank you for minding so much," 
 said she, sweetly. " I will tell 
 you. I have fits of coughing, not 
 frequent, but violent ; and then blood 
 very often comes from my lungs. 
 That is a bad sign, you know. I 
 have been so for four months now, 
 and I am a good deal wasted ; my 
 hand used to be very plump, look at 
 it now. — Poor Arthur ! " 
 
 She turned away lier head to drop 
 a gentle, unselfish tear or two ; and 
 Hazel stared with increasing alarm at
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 43 
 
 the lovely but wasted hand she still 
 held out to him, and glanced, too, at 
 Arthur Wardlaw's letter, held slightly 
 bj' the beloved fingers. 
 
 He said nothing, and, when she 
 looked round again, he was pale and 
 trembling. The revelation was so 
 sudden. 
 
 " Pray be calm, sir," said she. 
 " We need speak of this no more. 
 But now, I think, you will not be 
 surprised that I come to you for re- 
 ligious advice and consolation, short 
 as our acquaintance is." 
 
 " I am in no condition to give 
 them," said Hazel, in great agitation. 
 " I can think of nothing but liow to 
 save you. IMay Heaven help me, and 
 give me wisdom for that." 
 
 " This is idle," said Helen Rolles- 
 ton, gently, hut firmly. " I have had 
 the best advice for months, and I get 
 worse ; and, Mr. Hazel, I shall never 
 be better. So aid me to bow to the 
 will of Heaven. Sir, I do not repine 
 at leaving the world ; but it does 
 grieve me to think how my departure 
 will affect those whose happiness is 
 very, very dear to me." 
 
 She then looked at the letter, 
 blushed, and hesitated a moment ; but 
 ended by giving it to him whom she 
 had applied to as her religious adviser. 
 
 " Oblige me by reading that. And, 
 when you have, I think you will grant 
 me a favor I wish to ask you. Poor 
 fellow ! so full of hopes that I am 
 doomed to disappoint." 
 
 She rose to hide her emotion, and 
 left Arthur Wardlaw's letter in the 
 hands of him who loved her, if pos- 
 silde, more devotedly than Arthur 
 Wardlaw did ; and she walked the 
 deck pensively, little dreaming how 
 strange a thing she had done. 
 
 As for Hazel, he was in a situation 
 poigiuint with agony ; only the heavy 
 blow that had just fallen had stunned 
 and benumbed him. He felt a natural 
 repugnance to read this letter. But 
 slie had given him no choice. He 
 read it. In reading it he felt a mortal 
 sickness come over him, but he per- 
 severed ; he read it carefully to the 
 
 end, and he was examining the sig- 
 nature keenly, when Miss Rolleston 
 rejoined him, and, taking the letter 
 from him, placed it iu her bosom be- 
 fore his eyes. 
 
 " He loves me ; does he not ? " said 
 she, wistfully. 
 
 Hazel looked half stupidly in her 
 face for a moment ; then, with a can- 
 dor which was part of his character, 
 replied, doggedly, " Yes, the man who 
 wrote that letter loves you." 
 
 " Then you can pity him, and I 
 may venture to ask you the favor 
 to — It will be a bitter grief and 
 disappointment to him. Will you 
 bi'cak it to him as gently as you can ; 
 will you say that his Helen — Will 
 you tell him what I have told you ] " 
 
 " I decline." 
 
 This point-blank refusal surprised 
 Helen Rolleston ; all the more that it 
 was uttered with a certain sullenness, 
 and even asperity, she had never seen 
 till then in this gentle clergyman. 
 
 It made her fear she had done wrong 
 in asking it ; and she looked ashamed 
 and distressed. 
 
 However, the explanation soon fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 "My business," said he, "is to pro- 
 long your precious life ; and, making 
 up your mind to die is not the way. 
 You shall have no encouragement in 
 such weakness from me. Pray let me 
 be your physician." 
 
 " Thank you," said Helen, coldly ; 
 " I have my own physician." 
 
 "No doubt: but he shows me his 
 incapacity, by allowing you to live on 
 pastry and sweets ; things that arc 
 utter poison to you. Disease of the 
 lungs is curable, but not by drugs and 
 unwholesome food." 
 
 " Mr. Hazel," said the lady, " we 
 will drop the subject, if you please. 
 It has taken an uninteresting turn." 
 
 " To you, perhaps ; but not to 
 me." 
 
 " Excuse me, sir ; if you took that 
 real friendly interest in me and my 
 condition I was vain enough to think 
 you might, you would hardl}^ have re- 
 fused me the first favor I ever asked
 
 44 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 you ; and," drawing herself up proud- 
 ly, " need I say the last f " 
 
 " You arc unjust," said Hazel, sad- 
 ly ; " unjust beyond endurance. I 
 refuse you anytliin<r that is for your 
 pood ? I, wlio would lay down my 
 life with unmixed jov for you 7 " 
 
 "Mr. Hazel!" And she drew back 
 from him with a luuiglity stare. 
 
 " Learn the truth why I cannot, 
 and will not, talk to Arthur Ward- 
 law about you. For one thing, he is 
 my enemy, and I am his." 
 
 " His enemy ? my Arthur's ! " 
 
 " His moital enemy. And I am 
 going to England to clear an inno- 
 cent man, and expose Arthur Ward- 
 law's guilt." 
 
 " Indeed," said Helen, with lofty 
 contempt. " And pray what has he 
 done to 1/011? " 
 
 " He had a benefoctor, a friend ; 
 he entrapped him into cashing a note 
 of hand, whicii he must have known 
 or suspccti'd to be forged ; then base- 
 ly deserted him at the trial, and blast- 
 ed liis friend's life forever." 
 
 " Arthur Wardlaw did that ? " 
 
 " He did ; and that very James 
 Seaton was his victim." 
 
 Her delicate nostrils were expanded 
 with wrath, and her e3'cs flashed fire. 
 " Mr. Hazel, you are a liar and a 
 slanderer." 
 
 The man gave a kind of shudder, 
 as if cold steel had passed through 
 his heart. But his fortitude was 
 great; he said, doggedly, " Time will 
 show. Time, and a jury of our coun- 
 trymen." 
 
 " I will be his witness. I will say, 
 this is the malice of a rival. Yes, sir, 
 you forget that you have let out the 
 motive of this wicked slander. You 
 love me yourself; Heaven forgive me 
 for profaning the name of love I " 
 
 " HcavcTi forgive you for blasphem- 
 ing the purest, f()ndcst love that ever 
 one creature laid at the feet of another. 
 Yes, Helen Kolleston, I love yon ; 
 and will save you from the grave and 
 from the villain Wardlaw ; both from 
 one and the other." 
 
 " O," said Helen, clenching her 
 
 teeth, " I hope this is true ; I hope 
 you do love me, you wretch ; then I 
 may find a way to punish you for be- 
 lying the absent, and stabbing me to 
 the heart, through him." 
 
 Her throat swelled with a violent 
 convulsion, and she could utter no 
 more for a moment ; and she put her 
 wiiite handkerchief to her lips, and 
 drew it away discolored slightly with 
 blood. 
 
 " Ah ! yoti love me," she cried ; 
 " then know, for your comfort, that 
 you have sliortened my short life a 
 day or two, by slandering liiin to my 
 face, 3'OU monster. Look there at 
 your love, and see what it has done 
 "for me." 
 
 She put the handkerchief under his 
 eyes, with hate gleaminj,'- in her own. 
 
 Mr. Hazel turned ashy pale, and 
 glared at it with horror; he could 
 have seen his own shed, with stoical 
 firmness ; but a mortal sickness struck 
 his heart at the sight of her blood. His 
 hands rose and quivered in a ])cculiar 
 way, his sight lel't him, and the strong 
 man, btit tender lover, staggered, and 
 fell heavily on the deck, in a dead 
 swoon, and lay at her feet pale and 
 motionless. 
 
 She uttered a scream, and sailors 
 came running. 
 
 They lifted him, with rough sym- 
 pathy ; and Helen Kollcston retiicd 
 to her cabin, panting with agitation. 
 But she had little or no pity for the 
 slanderer. She read Arthur Ward- 
 law's letter again, kissed it, wept over 
 it, reproached herself for not having 
 loved the writer enough; and vowed 
 to repair that fault. " Poor slandered 
 Arrhtir," said she ; " from this hour I 
 will love you as devotedly as you love 
 me." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 After this, Helen Eolleston and 
 Mr. Hazel never spoke. She \\aike(l 
 ]iast liini on the deck with cold and 
 haughty contempt. 
 
 He quietly submitted to it ; and
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 45 
 
 never presumed to say one word to 
 her again. Only, as his determination 
 was equal to liis delicacy, Miss Kol- 
 leston found, one day, a paper on her 
 table, containing advice as to the 
 treatment of disordered lungs, ex- 
 pressed with apparent coldness, and 
 backed by a string of medical author- 
 ities, quoted nicmoriler. 
 
 She sent this buck directly, in- 
 dorsed with a line, in pencil, that she 
 would try hard to live, now she had a 
 friend to protect from calumny; but 
 should use her own judgment as to 
 the means. 
 
 Yet women will be women. She 
 had carefully taken a copy of his 
 advice before she cast it out with 
 scorn. 
 
 He replied, " Live with whatever 
 motive you please ; only live." 
 
 To this she vouchsafed no answer; 
 nor did this unhappy man trouble 
 her a'.::ain, until an occasion of a very 
 dilfcrent kind arose. 
 
 One fine night he sat on the deck, 
 with his back against the main-mast, 
 in deep melancholy and listlessncss, 
 and fell, at last, into a doze, from 
 wiiich he was wakened by a peculiar 
 sound below. It was a beautiful and 
 stilly night; all sounds were magni- 
 fied ; and the father of all rats seemed 
 to be gnawing the ship down be- 
 low. 
 
 Hazel's curiosity was excited, and 
 he went softly down the ladder to see 
 what the sound really was. But that 
 was not so easy, for it proved to bo 
 below decks ; hut he saw a light 
 glimmering through a small scuttle 
 abaft the mate's cabin, and the sounds 
 were in the neighborhood of that 
 light. 
 
 It now flashed upon Mr. Hazel 
 that this was the very quarter where 
 he had heard that mysterious knock- 
 ing when the ship was lying to in the 
 gale. 
 
 U])on this a certain degree of vague 
 suspicion began to mingle with his 
 curiosity. 
 
 He stood still a moment, listening 
 acutely ; then took off his shoes very 
 
 quietly, and moved with noiseless foot 
 towarils the scuttle. 
 
 The gnaV'.'ing still continued. 
 
 He put his head thruugh the scut- 
 tle, and peered into a dark, dismal 
 ])lace, whose very existence was new 
 to him. It was, in fact, a vacant 
 space between the cargo and the 
 ship's run. This wooden cavern was 
 very narrow, but not less than fifteen 
 feet long. The candle was at the 
 farther end, and between it and Hazel 
 a man was working, with his flank 
 turned towards the spectator. This 
 partly intercepted the light ; but still 
 it revealed in a fitful way the huge 
 ribs of the ship, and her inner skin, 
 that formed the right-hand partition, 
 so to speak, of this black cavern ; and 
 close outside those gaunt timbers 
 was heard the wash of the sea. 
 
 There was something solemn in 
 the close proximity of that tremen- 
 dous element and the narrowness of 
 the wooden barrier. 
 
 The bare place, and the gentle, mo- 
 notonous wash of the li(piid monster, 
 on that calm night, conveyed to Mr. 
 Hazel's mind a thought akin to Da- 
 vid's. 
 
 " As the Lord liveth, and as thy 
 soul liveth, there is but a step between 
 me anil death." 
 
 Judge whether that thought grew 
 weaker or stronger, when, after strain- 
 ing his eyes for some time, to under- 
 stand what was going on at that mid- 
 night hour, in that hidden place, he 
 saw who was the workman, and what 
 was his occupation. 
 
 It was Joseph Wylie, the mate. 
 His profile was illuminated by the 
 candle, and looked ghastly. He had 
 in his hands an auger of enortnous 
 size, and with this he was drilling a 
 great hole through the ship's side, just 
 below the water-murk; an act, the 
 eflPect of which would be to let the sea 
 bodily into the s!ii])and sink her, with 
 every soul on board, to the bottom of 
 the Pacific Ocean. 
 
 " I was stupefied ; and my hairs 
 stood on end, and my tongue clove to 
 my jaws."
 
 46 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Thus does one of Viriril's charac- 
 ters describe tlie eifect his mind pro- 
 duced upon his body, in a terrible 
 situation. 
 
 Mr. Hazel had always ridiculed that 
 trite line as a pure cxaijrgeration ; but 
 he altered his opinion after that event- 
 ful night. 
 
 When he first saw what Wylie was 
 doing, ohstupuit, he was merely be- 
 numbed ; but, as his mind reahzed 
 the fiendish nature of the act, and its 
 tremendous consequences, his hair 
 actually bristled, and for a few min- 
 utes at least he could not utter a 
 word. 
 
 In that interval of stupor, matters 
 took another turn. The auger went 
 in up to the haft : then Wylie caught 
 up with ills left hand a wooden plug 
 he had got ready, jerked the auger 
 away, caught up a hammer, and swift- 
 ly inserted the plug. 
 
 Rapid as he was, a single jet of 
 water came squirting viciously in. 
 But Wylie lost no time ; he tapped 
 the plug smartly with his hammer 
 several times, and then, lifting a mal- 
 let with both hands, rained heavy 
 blows on it that drove it in, and shook 
 the ship's side. 
 
 Then Hazel found his voice, and 
 he uttered an ejaculation that made 
 the mate look round ; he glared at the 
 man who was glaring at him, and, 
 staggering backward, trod on tlie light, 
 and all was darkness and dead si- 
 lence. 
 
 All but the wash of the sea outside, 
 and that louder than ever. 
 
 But a short interval sufiiccd to re- 
 store one of the parties to his natural 
 self-possession. 
 
 "Lord, sir," said Wylie, "how 
 you startled me! You should not 
 come upon a man at his work like 
 that. We might have had an acci- 
 dent." 
 
 "What were you doing?" said 
 Hazel, in a voice that quavered in 
 spite of him. 
 
 " Repairing the ship. Found a 
 crack or two in her inner skin. There, 
 
 let me get a light, and I '11 explain it 
 to you, sir." 
 
 He groped his Avay out, and invited 
 Mr. Hazel into his cabin. There he 
 struck a light, and, with great civility, 
 tendered an explanation. The ship, 
 he said, had labored a good deal in 
 tiie last gale, and he had discovered 
 one or two flaws in her, whicii were 
 of no immediate importance ; but ex- 
 perience had taught him that in calm 
 weather a ship ought to be kept tight. 
 " As they say ashore, a stitch in time 
 saves nine." 
 
 " But drilling holes in her is not 
 the way," said Hazel, sternly. 
 
 The mate laughed. " Why, sir," 
 said he, "what other way is there? 
 We cannot stop an irregular crack ; 
 we can frame nothing to fit it. The 
 way is to get ready a plug measured 
 a trifle larger than the aperture you 
 are going to make ; then drill a round 
 hole, and force in the plug. I know 
 no other way than that ; and I was a 
 ship's carpenter for ten years before 
 I was a mate." 
 
 This explanation, and the manner 
 in whicli it was given, removed Mr. 
 Hazel's apprehensions for the time 
 being. " It was very alarming," said 
 he ; " but I suppose you know yonr 
 business." 
 
 " Nobody better, sir," said Wylie. 
 " Why, it is not one seaman in three 
 that would troul)le his head about a 
 flaw in a slii])'s inner skin; but I'm 
 a man that looks ahead. Will you 
 have a glass of grog, sir, now you are 
 here ? I keep that under my eye, 
 too ; between ourselves, if the skipper 
 had as much in his cabin as I have 
 here, that might be worse for us all 
 tlian a crack or two in the ship's in- 
 ner skin." 
 
 Mr. Hazel declined to drink grog 
 at that time in the morning, but 
 wished him good night, and left him 
 with a better opinion of him than he 
 had ever had till then. 
 
 Wylie, when he was gone, drew a 
 tumbler of neat spirits, drank half, 
 and carried the rest back to his work. 
 
 Yet Wylie was a very sober man in
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 47 
 
 a general way. Rum was his toor ; 
 not liis master. 
 
 When Hazel came to think of it 
 all next day, he did not feel quite so 
 easy as he had done. The inner 
 skill ! But, when Wylie witlidrew 
 his auger, the water had squirted in 
 furiously. He felt it hard to believe 
 that this keen jet of water could be 
 caused by a small quantity that had 
 found its way between the skin of the 
 ship and her copper, or her top boot- 
 ing ; it seemed rather to be due to the 
 direct pressure of the liquid monster 
 ouf^ide. 
 
 He went to the captain that after- 
 noon, and first told him what he had 
 seen, otfering no solution. The cap- 
 tain, on that occasion, was in an am- 
 phibious state ; neither wet nor dry ; 
 and his reply was altogether excep- 
 tional. He received the communica- 
 tion with pompous civility ; then 
 swore a great oath, and said he would 
 put the mate in irons : " Confound 
 the lubber ! he will be through the 
 ship's bottom." 
 
 " But, stop a moment," said Mr. 
 Hazel, " it is only fair you should 
 also hear how he accounts for his pro- 
 ceeding." 
 
 The captain listened attentively 
 to the explanation, and altered his 
 tone. " O, that is a different mat- 
 ter," said he. "You need be under 
 no alarm, sir; the thundering lubber 
 knows what he is about, at that work. 
 Why, he has been a ship's carpenter 
 all his life. Him a seaman ! If any- 
 thing ever happens to me, and Joe 
 Wylie is set to navigate this ship, 
 then you may say your prayers. He 
 is n't lit to sail a wash-tub across a 
 duck-pond. But I '11 you what it is," 
 added this worthy, with more pom- 
 posity than neatness of articulation, 
 " here 's respeckable passenger brought 
 me a report ; do my duty to m' em- 
 plovcrs, and — take a look at th-e 
 well" 
 
 He accordingly chalked a plumb- 
 line, and went and sounded the well." 
 
 There wee eight inches of water. 
 Hudson told him that was no more 
 
 than all ships contained from various 
 causes ; " In fact," said he, " our 
 pumps suck, and will not draw, at 
 eight inches." Then suddenly grasp- 
 ing Mr. Hazel's hand, he said, in 
 tearful accents, " Don't you trouble 
 your liead about Joe Wylie, or any 
 such scum. I 'm skipper of the Pro- 
 serpine, and a man that does his duty 
 to 'z employers. Mr. Hazel, sir, I 'd 
 come to my last anchor in that well 
 this moment, if my duty to m' em- 
 ployers required it. B — my eyes if I 
 would n't lie down there this minute, 
 and never move to all eternity and a 
 day after, if it was my duty to m' em- 
 ployers ! " 
 
 " No doubt," said Hazel, dryly. 
 " But I think you can serve your 
 employers better in other parts of the 
 ship." He then left him, with a 
 piece of advice ; " to keep his eye up- 
 on that Wylie." 
 
 Mr. Hazel kept his own eye on 
 Wylie so constantly, that at eleven 
 o'clock F. M. ho saw that worthy go 
 into the captain's cabin with a quart 
 bottle of rum. 
 
 The coast was clear; the tempta- 
 tion great. 
 
 These men then were still deceiv- 
 ing him with a feigned antagonism. 
 He listened at the keyhole, not with- 
 out some compunction ; which, how- 
 ever, became less and less as frag- 
 ments of the dialogue reached his ear. 
 For a long time the only speaker 
 was Hudson, and his discourse ran 
 upon his own exploits at sea. But 
 suddenly Wylie's voice broke in with 
 an unmistakable tone of sujieriority. 
 " Belay all that chat, and listen to 
 me. It is time we settled something. 
 I'll hear what you have got to 
 say ; and then you '11 do what / say. 
 Better keep your hands off the bot- 
 tle a minute ; you have had enough 
 for the present; this is business. I 
 know you are good for jaw ; but what 
 are you game to do for the gover- 
 nor's money 1 Anything 1 " 
 
 " More than you have ever seen or 
 heard tell of, ye lubber," replied the 
 irritated skipper. " Who has ever
 
 48 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 served his employers like Hiram 
 Hudson ? " 
 
 "Iveep that song for your quarter- 
 deck," retorted the mate, contt'm|)t- 
 uoui-ly. " No ; on second thoughts, 
 just tell nie how you have served 
 your employers, you old luimbug. 
 Give me duipter and verse to choose 
 from. Come now, the Neptune? " 
 
 " WcU, the Xcptune ; she caught 
 fire a hundred leagues from land." 
 
 " How came she to do that? " 
 
 " That is my business. Well, I 
 put her head before tiie wind, and 
 ran for the Azores ; and I stuck to 
 her, sir, till she was as black as a 
 coal, and we could n't stand on deck, 
 but kept hopping like parched peas ; 
 and tire belching out of her port- 
 holes forward : then we took to tlie 
 boats, and saved a few bales of silk 
 by way of sample of her cargo, and 
 got ashore ; and she 'd have come 
 ashore too next tide and told talcs, 
 but Somebody left a keg of gun- 
 powder in the cabin, with a long 
 fuse, and blew a hole in her old ribs, 
 that the water came in, and down she 
 ■went, iiissing like ten thousand sar- 
 pints, and nobody the wiser." 
 
 " Who lighted the fuse, I wonder ? " 
 said Wylie. 
 
 "Didn't I tell ye it was 'Some- 
 body ' ? " said Hudson. " Hand me 
 the stiff." He replenished his glass, 
 and, after taking a sip or two, asked 
 AVylie if he had ever had the luck to 
 be boarded by pirates. 
 
 " No," said Wylie. " Have you ? " 
 
 " Ay ; and they rescued me from 
 a watery grave, as the lubbers call 
 it. Ye see, I was employed by 
 Downes and Co., down at the Ha- 
 vanna, and cleared for Vera Cruz 
 with some boxes of old worn-out 
 printer's type." 
 
 "To i)rint psalm -hooks for the 
 darkies, no doubt," suggested Wy- 
 lie. 
 
 " Insured as specie," continued 
 Hudson, ignoring the interruption. 
 " Well, just at (laybreakone morning, 
 all of a sudden tlicre was a rakish- 
 looking craft on our weather-bow : 
 
 lets fly a nine-pounder across our 
 forefoot, and was alongside before 
 my men could tumble up from below. 
 I got knocked into the sea by the 
 boom and fell between the ships"; and 
 the pirate he got hold of me and 
 poured hot grog down my throat to 
 bring me to my senses." 
 
 " That is not what you use it for in 
 general," said Wylie. " Civil sort of 
 pirate, though." 
 
 " Pirate be d — d. That was my 
 consort rigged out with a black flag, 
 and mounted with four nine-pounders 
 on one side, and five dummies on the 
 other. He blustered a bit, and swore, 
 and took our type and our cabbages 
 (I complained to Downes ashore 
 about the vagabond taking the vege- 
 tables), and ordered us to leeward 
 under rdl canvas, and we never 
 saw him again, — not till he had 
 shaved off his mustaches, and called 
 on Downes to condole and say the 
 varmint had chased his ship fifty 
 leagues out of her course ; but he h;id 
 got clear of him. Downes compli- 
 mented me publicly. Says he, ' This 
 skipper boarded the pirate single- 
 hatuied ; only he jumped short, and 
 fell between the two ships ; and here 
 he is by a miracle.' Then he takes 
 out his handkerchief, and flops his 
 head on my shoulder. ' His merci- 
 ful preservation almost reconciles jne 
 to the loss of my gold,' says the thun- 
 dering crocodile." Cleared S 70,000, 
 he dill, out of the I\Iarhattan ^Marine, 
 and gave the pirate and me but 
 £ 200 between us both." 
 
 " The Rose ? " said Wylie. 
 
 " What a hurry you arc in ! Pass 
 the grog. Well, the Kose ; she lay 
 off Ushant. Wc canted hor to wash 
 the decks ; lucky she had a careful 
 commander ; not like Kempenfelt, 
 whose eye was in his pocket, antl his 
 fingers held the pen, so he went to 
 the bottom, with Lord knows how 
 many men. I noticed tlic squalls 
 came very sudden ; so I sent most of 
 my men ashore, and got the boats 
 ready in case of accident. A squall 
 did strike her, and she was on her
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 49 
 
 beam-ends in a moment : we pulled 
 ashore with two bales of silk by way 
 of salvage, and saiuple of what warn't 
 in her hold when she settled down. 
 We landed ; and the Frenchmen 
 were dancin^^ about with excitement. 
 ' Captain,' says one, ' you have much 
 sang fraw.' ' Insured, munseer,' says 
 I. ' Bone,' says he. 
 
 " Then there was the Antelope, lost 
 in charge of a pilot olF the Hooghly. 
 I knew the water as well as he did. 
 We were on the port tack, standing 
 towards the shoal. Weather it, as we 
 should have done next tack, and I 
 should have failed in my duty to my 
 employers. Anything but that ! 
 ' Look out ! ' said I. ' Pilot, she fore- 
 reaches in stays.' Pilot was smok- 
 ing ; those sandhead pilots smoke in 
 bed and asleep. He takes his cigar 
 out of his mouth for one moment. 
 ' Ready about,' says he. ' Hands 
 'bout ship. Helms a-lee. liaise 
 tacks and sheets.' Round she was 
 coming like a top. Pilot smoking. 
 Just as he was going to haul the 
 mainsel Somebody tripped against 
 him, and shoved the hot cigar in his 
 eye. He sung out and swore, and there 
 was no mainsel haul. Ship in irons, 
 tide running hard on to the siioal, 
 and before we could clear away for 
 anchoring, bump ! — there she was 
 hard and fast. A stiff breeze got up 
 at sunrise, and she broke up. Next 
 day I was sipping my grog and read- 
 ing the Bengal Courier, and it told 
 the disastrous wreck of the brig Ante- 
 lope, wrecked in charge of a pilot; 
 ' but no lives lost, and the owners 
 fully insured.' Then there was the 
 bark Sally. Why, you saw her your- 
 self distressed on a lee shore." 
 
 '• Yes," said Wylie. " I was in that 
 tub, the Grampus, ancj we contrived to 
 claw off the Scillies; yet you, in your 
 smart Sally, got ashore. What luck ! " 
 
 " Luck be blowed ! " cried Hudson, 
 angrily. " Somebody got into the 
 chains to sound; and cut the weather 
 halyards. Next tack the masts went 
 over the side; and I had done my 
 duty." 
 
 " Lives were lost that time, eh ? " 
 said Wylie, gravely. 
 
 " What is that to you 1 " replied 
 Hudson, with the sudden ire of a 
 drunken man. " Mind your own 
 business. Pass me the bottle." 
 
 "Yes, lives was lost: and always 
 will be lost in sea-going ships, where 
 the skipper does iiis duty. There was 
 a sight more lost at Trafalgar, owing 
 to every man doing his duty. Lives 
 lost, ye lubber ? And why not mine ? 
 Because their time was come and 
 mine was n't. For I '11 tell you one 
 thing, Joe Wylie, — if slie takes fire 
 and runs before the wind till she is as 
 black as a coal, and belching flame 
 through all her port-holes, and then 
 explodes, and goes aloft in ten thou- 
 sand pieces no bigger than mij hat, or 
 your knowledge of navigation, Hud- 
 son is the last man to leave her : 
 Duty! — If she goes on her beam- 
 ends and founders, Hudson sees the 
 last of her, and reports it to his em- 
 ployers : Duty ! — - If she goes grind- 
 ing on Scilly, Hudson is the last man 
 to leave her bones : liuty ! — - Some 
 day perhaps I shall be swamped my- 
 self along with the craft : I have es- 
 caped till now, owing to not being in- 
 sured ; but if ever my time should 
 come, and you should get clear, prom- 
 ise me, Joe, to see the owners, and 
 tell 'em Hudson did liis duty." 
 
 Here a few tears quenched liis noble 
 ardor for a moment. But he soon re- 
 covered, and said, with some little 
 heat, " You have got the bottle again. 
 I never saw such a fellow to get hold 
 of the bottle. Come, here 's ' Duty 
 to our employers ! ' And now I '11 
 tell you how we managed with the 
 Carysbrook, and the Amelia." 
 
 This promise was followed by fresh 
 narratives ; in particular, of a vessel 
 he had run upon the Florida reef at 
 night, where wreckers had been re- 
 tained in advance to look out for sig- 
 nals, and come on board and quarrel 
 on pretence and set fire to the vessel, 
 insured at thrice her value. 
 
 Hudson got quite excited with the
 
 50 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 memory of these exploits, and told 
 each successive feat louder and 
 louder. 
 
 But now it was Wylie's turn. 
 " Well," said he, very gravely, " all 
 this was child's play." 
 
 There was a pause that marked 
 Hudson's astonishment. Then he 
 broke out, " Child's play, ye lubber ! 
 If you had been there your gills would 
 have been as white as your Sunday 
 shirt ; and a d — d deal whiter." 
 
 " Come, be civil," said Wylic, " I 
 tell you, all the ways jou have told 
 me are too suspicious. Our governor 
 is a high-flier : he pays like a prince, 
 and, in return, he must not be blown 
 on, if it is ever so little. ' Wylic,' 
 says he, ' a breath of suspicion would 
 kill me.' ' Make it so much,' says I, 
 ' and that breath shall never blow on 
 you.' No, no, skipper ; none of those 
 ways will do for us ; they have all 
 been worked twice too often. It must 
 be done in fair weather, and in a 
 Avay — Fill your glass and I 'II fill 
 mine — Capital rum this. You talk 
 of my gills turning white ; before long 
 we shall see whose keeps their color 
 best, mine or yours, my Boy." 
 
 There was a silence, during which 
 Hudson was probably asking himself 
 what Wylie meant ; for presently he 
 broke out in a loud, but somewhat 
 quivering voice : " Why, you mad, 
 drunken devil of a ship's carpenter, 
 red-iiot from hell, I see what you are 
 at, now ; you are going — " 
 
 " Hush ! " cried Wylie, alarmed in 
 his turn. "Is this the sort of thing 
 to bellow out for the watch to hear ? 
 Wliisper, now." 
 
 This was followed by the earnest 
 muttcrings of two voices. In vain 
 did the listener send his very soul into 
 his ear to hear. He could catch no 
 single word. Yet he could tell, by 
 tlie very tones of the speakers, that 
 the dialogue was one of mystery and 
 importance. 
 
 Here was a situation at once irritat- 
 ing and alarming ; but there was no 
 help for it. The best tiling, now, 
 seemed to be to withdraw unobserved, 
 
 and wait for another opportunity. 
 He did so ; and he had not long re- 
 tired, when the mate came out stag- 
 gering, and flushed with liquor, and 
 that was a thing that had never oc- 
 curred before. lie left the cabin door 
 open, and went into his own room. 
 
 Soon after sounds issued from the 
 cabin, — peculiar sounds, something 
 between grunting and snoring. 
 
 Mr. Hazel came and entered the 
 cabin. There he found the captain 
 of the Proserpine in a position very 
 unfavorable to longevity. His legs 
 were crooked over the seat of his 
 chair, and his head was on the ground. 
 His handkerchief was tight rotmd his 
 neck, and the man himself dead drunk, 
 and purple in the face. 
 
 Mr. Hazel instantly undid his stock, 
 on which the gallant seaman muttered 
 inarticulately. He then took his feet 
 off the chair, and laid them on the 
 ground, and put the empty bottle un- 
 der the animal's neck 
 
 But he had no sooner done all this, 
 than ho had a serious misgiving. 
 Would not this man's death have 
 been a blessing ? Might not his life 
 prove fatal 1 
 
 The thought infuriated him, and he 
 gave the prostrate figure a heavy kick 
 that almost turned it over, and the 
 words, " Duty to employers," gurgled 
 out of its mouth directly. 
 
 It really seemed as if these sounds 
 were independent of the mind, and 
 resided at the tip of Hudson's tongue : 
 so that a thorough good kick could, 
 at any time, shake them out of his 
 inanimate body. 
 
 Thus do things ludicrous and 
 things terrible mingle in the real 
 world ; only to those who are in the 
 arena, the ludicrous passes unnoticed, 
 being overshadowed by its terrible 
 neighbor. 
 
 And so it was with Hazel. He saw 
 nothing absurd in all this ; and in 
 that prostrate, insensible hog, com- 
 manding the ship, forsooth, and car- 
 rying all their lives in his hands, ho 
 saw the mysterious and alarming only, 
 saw them so, and felt them, that he
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 51 
 
 lay awake all night thinking what he 
 should do, and early next day ho went 
 into the mate's cabin, and said to him : 
 " Mr. Wylie, in any other ship I 
 should spsak to the captain, and not 
 to the mate ; bnc here that would be 
 no use, for you are the master, and he 
 is your servant." 
 
 "Don't tell him so, sir, for he does 
 n't think small beer of himself." 
 
 " I shall waste no more words on 
 him. It is to you I speak, and you 
 know I speak the truth. Here is a 
 ship, in which, for certain reasons 
 known to yourself, the captain is 
 under the mate." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Wylie, good- 
 humoredly, "it is no use trying to 
 deceive a gentleman like you. Our 
 skipper is an excellent seaman, but 
 he has got a fault." Then Wylie 
 imitated, with his hand, the action of 
 a person filling his glass. 
 
 "And you are here to keep him 
 sober, eh 1 " 
 Wylie nodded. 
 
 " Then why do you ply him with 
 liquor ? " 
 
 " I don't, sir." 
 
 " You do. I have seen you do it a 
 dozen times : and last night you took 
 rum into his room, and made him so 
 drunk, he would have died where he 
 lay if I had not loosed his handker- 
 chief." 
 
 " I am sorry to hear that, sir ; but 
 he was sober when I left him. The 
 fool must have got to the bottle the 
 moment I was gone." 
 
 " But that bottle you put in his 
 way ; I saw you : and what was your 
 object ■? To deaden his conscience 
 with liquor, his and your own, while 
 you made him your fiendish proposal. 
 Man, man, do you believe in God, 
 and in a judgment to come for the 
 deeds done in the body, that you can 
 plan in cold blood to destroy a vessel 
 with nineteen souls on board, besides 
 the live stock, the innocent animals 
 that God pitied and spared when he 
 raised his hand in wrath over Nineveh 
 of old ? " 
 
 While the clergyman was speak- 
 
 ing, with flashing eyes and com- 
 manding voice, the seaman turned 
 ashy pale ; and drew his shoulders to- 
 gether like a cat preparing to defend 
 her life. 
 
 " I plan to destroy a vessel, sir ! 
 You never heard me say such a word ; 
 and don't you hint such a thing in the 
 ship, or you will get yourself into 
 trouble." " 
 
 " That depends on you." 
 " How so, sir?" 
 " I have long suspected you." 
 " You need not tell me that, sir." 
 " But I have not communicated my 
 suspicions. And now that they are 
 certainties, I come first to you. In 
 one word, will you forego your in- 
 tention, since it is found out ? " 
 
 " How can I forego what never was 
 in my head ? " said Wylie. " Cast 
 away the ship ! Why, there 's no land 
 within two thousand miles. Founder 
 a vessel in the Pacific ! Do you think 
 my life is not as sweet to me as yours 
 is to you ? " 
 
 Wylie eyed him keenly to see the 
 eflfect of these words, and, by a puz- 
 zled expression that came over his 
 face, saw at once he had assumed a 
 more exact knowledge than he really 
 possessed. 
 
 Hazel replied that he had said noth- 
 ing about foundering the ship ; but 
 there were many ways of destroying 
 one. " For instance," said he, " I 
 know how the Neptune was de- 
 stroyed, — and so do you : how the 
 Rose and the Antelope were cast 
 away, — and so do you." 
 
 At this enumeration, Wylie lost his 
 color and self-possession for a mo- 
 ment; he saw Hazel had been lis- 
 tening. Hazel followed up his blow. 
 " Promise me now, by all you hold 
 sacred, to forego this villany ; and I 
 hold my tongue. Attempt to defy 
 me, or to throw dust in my eyes, and 
 I go instantly among the crew, and 
 denounce both you and Hudson to 
 them." 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " cried Wylie, in 
 unfeigned terror. " Why, the men 
 would mutiny on the spot."
 
 52 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 "I can't help that," said Hazel, 
 firmly; and took a step towards the 
 door. 
 
 " Stop a bit," said the mate. 
 " Don't be in such a nation hurry : 
 for, if you do, it will be bad for me, 
 but worse for you." The above was 
 said so gravely, and with such evident 
 sincerity, that Mr. Hazel was struck, 
 and showed it. Wylie followed up 
 that trifling advantage. " Sit down a 
 minute, sir, if you please, and listen to 
 me. You never saw a mutiny on 
 board ship, I '11 be bound. It is a 
 worse thing than any gale that ever 
 blew : begins fair enough, sometimes ; 
 but how does it end '} In breaking 
 into the spirit-room, and drinking to 
 madness, plundering the ship, ravish- 
 ing the women, and cutting a throat 
 or so for certain. You don't seem so 
 fond of the picture as you was of the 
 idea. And then they might turn a 
 deaf ear to you after all. Ship is well 
 found in all stores ; provisions served 
 out freely; men in good humor; and 
 I have got their ear. And now I '11 
 tell you why it won't suit your little 
 game to blacken mc to the crew, upon 
 the bare chance of a mutiny." He 
 paused for a moment, then resumed 
 in a lower tone, and revealed himself 
 the extraordinary man he was. 
 
 " You see, sir," said he, " when a 
 man is very ready to suspect me, I al- 
 ways suspect him. Now you was 
 uncommon ready to suspect mc. 
 Y'ou did n't wait till you came on 
 board ; you began the game ashore. 
 O, what, that makes you open one 
 eye, docs it? You thought I did n't 
 know you again. Knew you, my 
 man, the moment you came aboard. 
 I never forget a face ; and disguises 
 don't pass on me." 
 
 It was now Hazel's turn to look 
 anxious and discomposed. 
 
 " So, then, the moment I saw you 
 suspected me I was down u])on you. 
 Well, you come aboard under false 
 colors. We did n't want a chap like 
 you in the ship ; but you would come. 
 ' What is the hloke after 'i ' says I, and 
 watches. Y'ou was so intent suspect- 
 
 ing me of this, that, and t' other, that 
 you unguarded yourself, and that is 
 common too. I 'm blowed if it is n't 
 the lady you are after. With all my 
 heart : only she might do better, apd 
 I don't see how she could do worse, 
 unless she went to Old Nick for a mate. 
 Now, I 'II tell you what it is, my man. 
 I 've been in tiouble myself, and don't 
 want to be hard on a poor devil, just 
 because he sails under an alias, and 
 lies as near the wind as he can, to 
 weather on the beaks and the bobbies. 
 But one good turn deserves another : 
 keep your dirty suspicions to yourself; 
 for if you dare to open your lips to 
 the men, in five minutes, or less than 
 that, you shall be in irons, and con- 
 fined to your cabin ; and we '11 put 
 you ashore at the first port that flies 
 tiie British flag, and hand you over to 
 the authorities, till one of her Ma- 
 jesty's cruisers sends in a boat for 
 
 you." 
 
 At this threat Mr. Hazel hung his 
 head in confusion and dismivy. 
 
 " Come, get out of my cabin. Par- 
 son Alias," shouted the mate ; " and 
 belay your foul tongue in this ship, 
 and don't make an enemy of Joe 
 Wylie, a man that will eat you up 
 else, and spit you out again, and never 
 brag. Sheer ofl', I say, and be d — d 
 to you." 
 
 Mr. Hazel, with a pale face and sick 
 heart, looked aghast at this dangerous 
 man, who could be fox or tiger, as 
 the occasion demanded. 
 
 Surprised, alarmed, outwitted, and 
 out-menaced, he retired with dis- 
 ordered countenance and uneven 
 steps, and hid himself in his own 
 cabin. 
 
 The more he weighed the whole 
 situation, the more clearly did he sec 
 that he was utterly powerless in the 
 liands of Wylie. 
 
 A skipjK'r is an emperor; and 
 Hudson iiad the power to iron him, 
 and set him on shore at the nearest 
 port. The right to do it was anoth- 
 er matter ; but even on that head 
 Wylie could furnish a jilausiblc ex- 
 cuse for the act. Ilctribution, if it
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 53 
 
 came at all, would not be severe, and 
 would be three or four years coming : 
 and who ft-ars it much, when it is so 
 dilatory, and so weak, and so doubt- 
 ful into the bargain ? 
 
 He succumbed in silence for two 
 days ; and then, in spite of Wylie's 
 threat, he made one timid attempt to 
 approach the subject with Welch and 
 Cooper, but a sailor came itp instant- 
 ly, and sent them forward to reef 
 topsails. And, whenever he tried to 
 enter into conversation with tiie pair, 
 some sailor or other was sure to come 
 up and listen. 
 
 Then he saw that he was spotted ; 
 or, as we say nowadays, picketed. 
 
 He was at his wit's end. 
 
 He tried his last throw. He wrote 
 a few lines to Miss Rolleston, request- 
 ing an interview. Aware of the 
 difficulties he had to encounter here, 
 he stilled his heart by main force, 
 and wrote in terms carefully meas- 
 ured. He begi^ed her to believe he 
 had no design to intrude upon her, 
 ■without absolute necessity, and for 
 her own good. Respect for her own 
 wishes forbade this, and also his self- 
 respect. 
 
 " But," said he, " I have made a 
 terrible discovery. The mate and the 
 captain certainly intend to cast away 
 this ship. No doubt they will try 
 and not sacrifice their own lives and 
 ours ; but risk them they must, in the 
 very nature of things. Before troub- 
 ling you, I have tried all I could, in 
 the way of persuasion and menace ; 
 but am defeated. So now it rests 
 with you. You, alone, can save us 
 all. I will tell you how, if you will 
 restrain your repugnance, and accord 
 me a short interview. Need I say 
 that no other sul)ject shall be intro- 
 duced by me? In England, should 
 we ever reach it, I may perhaps try 
 to take measures to regain your good 
 opinion ; but here, I am aware, that 
 is impossible ; and 1 shall make no 
 attempt in that direction, upon my 
 honor." 
 
 To this came a prompt and femi- 
 nine reply : — 
 
 " The ship is Ms. The captain 
 and the mate are able men, appointed 
 hy kiin. Your suspicions of these poor 
 men are calumnies, and of a piece 
 with your other monstrous slanders. 
 
 " I'really must insist on your hold- 
 ing no further comiuunications of 
 any sort with one to whom your 
 character is revealed and odious. 
 
 " H. R." 
 
 This letter benumbed his heart at 
 first. A letter? It was a blow; a 
 blow from her he loved, and she hated 
 him ! 
 
 His long-suffering love gave way 
 at last. What folly and cruelty com- 
 bined ! He could no longer make 
 allowances for the sjiite of a woman 
 whose lover had been traduced. Rage 
 and despair seized him ; he bit his 
 nails, and tore his hair with fury ; 
 and prayed Heaven to help him hate 
 her as she deserved, " the blind, in- 
 solent idiot ! " Yes, these bitter 
 words actually came out of his mouth, 
 in a torrent of fury. 
 
 But to note down all he said in 
 his rage, would be useless; and 
 might mislead, for this was a gust 
 of fury ; and, while it lasted, the 
 long-suffering man was no longer him- 
 self. 
 
 As a proof how little this state of 
 mind was natural to him, it stirred 
 up all the bile in his body, and 
 brought on a severe attack of yel- 
 low jaundice, accompanied by the 
 settled dejection that marks that dis- 
 order, 
 
 ^leantime the Proserpine glided on, 
 with a fair M'ind, and a contented 
 crew. She was well found in stores ; 
 and they were served out ungrij^g- 
 ingly. 
 
 Every face on board beamed with 
 jollity, except poor Hazel's. He crept 
 about, yellow as a guinea ; a very 
 scarecrow. 
 
 The surgeon, a humane man, urged 
 him to drink sherry, and take strong 
 exercise. 
 
 But persons afflicted with that dis- 
 tressing malady are obstinately set
 
 54 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 against those things which tend to 
 cure it ; this is a feature of the dis- 
 ease. Mr. Hazel was no exception. 
 And then liis heart had received so 
 many blows, it had no power left to 
 resist the depressing effect of his dis- 
 order. He took no exercise ; he ate 
 little food. He lay, listless and de- 
 jected, about the deck, and let disease 
 do what it pleased with him. 
 
 The surgeon shook his head, and 
 told Hudson the parson was booked. 
 
 " And good riddance of bad rub- 
 bish ! " was that worthy's gracious 
 comment. 
 
 The ship now encountered an ad- 
 verse gale, and, for three whole days, 
 was under close-reefed top-sails ; she 
 was always a wet ship under stress of 
 weather ; and she took in a good deal 
 of water on this occasion. On the 
 fourth day it fell calm, and Captain 
 Hudson, having examined the well, 
 and found three feet of water, ordered 
 the men to the pumps. 
 
 After working through one watch, 
 the well was sounded again, and the 
 water was so much reduced that the 
 gangs were taken off; and the ship 
 being now becalmed, and the weath- 
 er lovely, the men were allowed to 
 dance upon deck to the boatswain's 
 fiddle. 
 
 While this pastime went on, the 
 sun, lai-ge and red, reached the hori- 
 zon, and diffused a roseate light over 
 the entire ocean. 
 
 Not one of the current descriptions 
 of heaven approached the actual 
 grandeur and beauty of the blue sky, 
 flecked with rubj' and gold, and its 
 liquid mirror that lay below, calm, 
 dimpled, and glorified by that trans- 
 lucent, rosy tint. 
 
 While the eye was yet charmed 
 with this enchanting bridal of tlie sea 
 and sky, and the ear amused with the 
 merry fiddle and the nimble feet, that 
 tapped the sounding deck so deftly at 
 every note, Cooper, who had been 
 sounding the well, ran forward all of 
 a sudden, and flung a thunderbolt in 
 the midst. 
 
 " A LEAK ! " 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The fiddle ended in mid-tune, and 
 the men crowded aft with anxious 
 faces. 
 
 The captain sounded the well, and 
 found three feet and a half water in 
 it. He ordered all hands to the 
 pumps. 
 
 They turned to with a good heart, 
 and pumped watch and watch, till 
 daybreak. 
 
 Their exertions counteracted the 
 leak, but did no more ; tlie water in 
 the well was neither more nor less, 
 perceptibly. 
 
 This was a relief to their minds, so 
 far ; but the situation was a very se- 
 rious one. Suppose foul weather 
 should come, and the vessel ship 
 water from above as well ! 
 
 Now all those who were not on the 
 pumps set to work to find out the leak 
 and stop it if possible. With candles 
 in their hands, they crept about the 
 ribs of the ship, narrowly inspecting 
 ever)' corner, and applying their ears 
 to every suspected place, if haply they 
 might hear the water coming in. The 
 place where Hazel hnd found "Wylie 
 at work was examined, along with 
 the rest ; but neither there nor any- 
 where else could the leak be discov- 
 ered. Yet the water was still coming 
 in, and required unremitting labor to 
 keep it under. It was then suggested 
 by Wylie, and the opinion gradually 
 gained ground, that some of the seams 
 had opened in the late gale, and were 
 letting in the water by small but nu- 
 merous apertures. 
 
 Faces began to look cloud}' ; and 
 Hazel, throwing off his letliargy, took 
 his spell at the main pump with the 
 rest. 
 
 When his gang was relieved he 
 went away, bathed in perspiration, 
 and, leaning over the well, sounded 
 it. 
 
 While thus employed, the mate 
 came behind him, witli his cat-like 
 step, and said, " See what has come 
 on us with your forebodings ! It is 
 the unluckiest thing in the world to
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 55 
 
 talk about losing a ship when she is 
 at sea." 
 
 " You arc a more dangerous man 
 on board a ship tliau I am," was 
 Hazel's prompt reply. 
 
 The well gave an increase of three 
 inches. 
 
 Mr. Hazel now sliowed excellent 
 qualities. He worlced like a horse ; 
 and, finding the mate skulking, he 
 reproached him before the men, and, 
 stripping himself naked to the waist, 
 invited him to do a man's duty. The 
 mate, thus challenged, complied with 
 a scowl. 
 
 Tliey labored for their lives, and the 
 quantity of water they discharged 
 from the sliip was astonishing ; not 
 less than a hundred and ten tons every 
 hour. 
 
 They gained upon the leak — only 
 two inches ; but, in the struggle for 
 life, this was an immense victory. It 
 was the turn of tlie tide. 
 
 A slight breeze sprung up from the 
 southwest, and tiie captain ordered 
 the men from the buckets to make all 
 sail on the ship, the pumps still 
 going. 
 
 When this was done, he altered the 
 ship's course, and put her right before 
 tlie wind, steering for the island of 
 Juan Fernandez, distant eleven hun- 
 dred miles, or thereabouts. 
 
 Probably it was the best tiling he 
 could do, in that awful waste of water. 
 But its effect on the seamen was bad. 
 It was like giving in. They got a little 
 disheartened and flurried ; and the 
 cold, passionless water seized the ad- 
 vantage. It is possible, too, that the 
 motion of the ship through the sea 
 aided the leak. 
 
 The Proserpine glided through 
 the water all night, like some terror- 
 stricken creature, and the incessant 
 pumps seemed to be her poor heart, 
 beating loud with breathless fear. 
 
 At daybreak she had gone a httn- 
 dred and twenty miles. But this was 
 balanced by a new and alarming fea- 
 ture. Tbe water from the p\imps no 
 longer came up pure, but mixed with 
 what appeared to ba blood. 
 
 This got redder and redder, and 
 struck terror into the more supersti- 
 tious of the crew. 
 
 Even Cooper, whose heart was 
 stout, leaned over the bulwarks, and 
 eyed the red stream, gushing into the 
 sea from the lee scuppers, and said 
 aloud, " Ay, bleed to death, ye bitch. 
 We sha' n't be long behind ye." 
 
 Hazel inquired, and found the ship 
 had a quantity of dye-wood amongst 
 her cargo : he told the men this, and 
 tried to keep up their hearts by his 
 words and his example. 
 
 He succeeded with some ; but 
 others shook their heads. And by 
 and by, even while he was working 
 double tides for them as well as for 
 himself, ominous murmurs met his 
 ear. " Parson aboard ! " " Man 
 aboard, with t'other world in his 
 face ! " And there were sinister 
 glances to match. 
 
 •He told this, with some alarm, to 
 Welch and Cooper. They promised 
 to stand by him ; and Welch told him 
 it was all the mate's doings ; he had 
 gone amongst the men, and poisoned 
 them. 
 
 The wounded vessel, with her ever- 
 beating heart, had run three hundred 
 miles on the new tack. She had 
 almost ceased to bleed ; but what was 
 as bad, or worse, small fragments of 
 her cargo and stores came up with 
 the water, and their miscellaneous 
 character showed how deeply the sea 
 had now penetrated. 
 
 This, and their great fatigue, began 
 to demoralize the sailors. The pumps 
 and buckets were still plied, but it 
 was no longer with the uniform man- 
 ner of brave and hopeful men. Some 
 stuck dogged 13^ to their work, but 
 otlicrs got flurried, and ran from one 
 thing to another. Now and then a, 
 man would stop, and burst out cry- 
 ing ; then to work again in a des- 
 perate way. One or two lost heart 
 altogether, and had to be driven. 
 Finally, one or two succumbed un- 
 der the unremitting labor. Despair 
 crept over others : their features be- 
 gan to change, so much so that sev-
 
 56 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 eral countenances were hardly recog- 
 nizable, and each, looking in the 
 other's troubled face, saw his own fate 
 pictured there. 
 
 Six feet water in the hold ! 
 
 The captain, who had been sober 
 beyond his time, now got dead drunk. 
 
 The mate took the command. On 
 hearing this, Welch and Cooper left 
 the pumps. Wylie ordered them 
 back. They refused, and coolly 
 lighted their pipes. A violent alter- 
 cation took place, which was brought 
 to a close by Welch. 
 
 " It is no use pumping the ship," 
 said he. " She is doomed. D' ye 
 think we are blind, my mate and me 1 
 You got the long-boat ready for your- 
 self before ever the leak was sprung. 
 Now get the cutter ready for my mate 
 and me." 
 
 At these simple words Wylie lost 
 color, and walked aft without a word. 
 
 Next day there were seven feet 
 water in the hold, and quantities of 
 bread coming up through the pumps. 
 
 Wylie ordered tlie men from the 
 pumps to the boats. The jolly-boat 
 was provisioned and lowered. While 
 she was towing astern, the cutter was 
 prepared, and the ship left to fill. 
 
 All this time Miss Kolleston had 
 been kept in the dark, not as to the 
 danger, but as to its extent. Great 
 was her surprise when Mr. Hazel en- 
 tered her cabin, and cast an ineffable 
 look of pity on her. 
 
 She looked up surprised and then 
 angry. " How dare you ? " she be- 
 gan. 
 
 He waved his hand in a sorrowful 
 but commanding way. " O, this is 
 no time for prejudice or temper. The 
 ship is sinking : we are going into 
 the boats. Pray make preparations. 
 Here is a list I have written of the 
 things you ought to take : we may be 
 weeks at sea in an open boat " 
 
 Then, seeing her duiufoundcred, he 
 caught up her carpet-bag, and threw 
 her work-box into it for a beginning. 
 He then laid iiands upon some of her 
 preserved meats, and marmalade, and 
 carried them off to his own cabin. 
 
 His mind then flew back to his 
 reading, and passed in ra])id review 
 all the wants that men had endured 
 in open boats. 
 
 He got hold of Welch, and told 
 him to be sure and sec there was 
 plenty of spare canvas on board, and 
 sailing needles, scissors, etc. : al.so 
 three bags of biscuit, and, above all, 
 a cask of Avater. 
 
 He himself ran all about the sliip, 
 including the mate's caliin, in search 
 of certain tools he thought would be 
 wanted. 
 
 Then to his own cabin, to fill his 
 carpet-bag. 
 
 Tiiere was little time to spare ; the 
 ship was low in the water, and the 
 men abandoning her. He flung the 
 things into his bag, fastened and 
 locked it, strapped up his blankets 
 for her use, flung on his pea-jacket, 
 and turned the handle of his door to 
 run out. 
 
 The door did not open ! 
 
 He pushed it. It did not yield ! 
 
 He rushed at it. It was fast! 
 
 He uttered a cry of rage, and flung 
 himself at it. 
 
 Horror ! It was immovable ! 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 The fearful, the sickening truth 
 burst on him in all its awful signifi- 
 cance. 
 
 Some miscreant or madman had 
 locked the door, and so fastened hira 
 to the sinking ship, at a time when, 
 in the bustle, tiie alarm, the selfish- 
 ness, all would be apt to forget him, 
 and leave him to his death. 
 
 He tried tlie door in every way, he 
 hammered at it ; he shouted, he raged, 
 he screamed. In vain. Unfortunate- 
 ly the door of this caljin was of very 
 unusual strength and thickness. 
 
 Then he took up one of those great 
 augers he had found in the mate's 
 cabin, and bored a hole in the door ; 
 through this hole he fired his pistol, 
 and then screamed for help. " I am
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 57 
 
 shut up in the cabin. I shall be 
 drowned. 0, for Ciirist's sake, save 
 me ! save me ! " and a cold sweat of 
 terror pouied down his whole body. 
 
 What is that ? 
 
 The soft rustle of a woman's dress. 
 
 O how he thanked God for that 
 music, and the hope it gave him ! 
 
 It comes towards him ; it stops, the 
 key is turned, the dress rustles away, 
 swift as a winded bird ; he dashes at 
 the door ; it flies open. 
 
 Nobody was near. He recovered 
 his courage in part, fetched out his 
 bag and his tools, and ran across to 
 the starboard side. There he found 
 the captain lowering I\Iiss Rolleston, 
 with due care, into the cutter, and 
 tiic young lady crying ; not at being 
 shipwrecked, if you please, btit at 
 being deserted by her maid. Jane 
 Holt, at this trying moment, had de- 
 serted her mistress for her husband. 
 This was natural ; but, as is the rule 
 with persons of that class, she had 
 done this in the silliest and cruellest 
 way. Had she given half an hour's 
 notice of her intention, Donovan 
 might have been on board the cutter 
 wiih her and her mistress. But no; 
 being a liar and a fool, she must hide 
 her husband to the last moment, and 
 then desert her mistress. The ca|> 
 tain, then, was comforting Miss Rol- 
 leston, and telling her she should have 
 her maid with her eventually, when 
 Hazel came. He handed down his own 
 bagj and threw the blankets into the 
 stern-sheets. Then went down him- 
 self, and sat on the midship-thwart. 
 
 " Shove off," said the captain ; and 
 they fell astern. 
 
 But Cooper, with a boat-book, 
 hooked on to the long-boat ; and the 
 dying ship towed them both. 
 
 Five minutes more elapsed, and the 
 captain did not come down, so Wylie 
 hailed him. 
 
 There was no answer. Hudson 
 had gone into the mate's cabin. Wy- 
 lie waited a minute, then hailed again. 
 " Hy ! on deck there ! " 
 
 " Hullo 1 " cried the captain, at 
 hist. 
 
 " Why did n't you come in the cut- 
 ter ? " 
 
 The captain crossed his arms, and 
 leaned over tlie stern. 
 
 " Don't you know that Hiram 
 Hudson is always the last to leave 
 a sinking ship 1 " 
 
 " Well, you are the last,"said Wy- 
 lie. " So now come on board the 
 long-boat at once. I dare not tow in 
 her wake much longer, to be sucked 
 in when she goes down." 
 
 " Come on board your craft and 
 desert my own?" said Hudson, dis- 
 dainfully. " Know my duty to m' em- 
 ployers better." 
 
 These words alarmed the mate. 
 " Curse it all ! " he cried ; the fool 
 has been and got some more rum. 
 F'ifty guineas to the man that will 
 shin up the tow-rope, and throw that 
 madman into the sea; then we can 
 pick him up. He swims like a cork." 
 
 A sailor instantly darted forward 
 to the rope. But, unfortunately, 
 Hudson heard this proposal, and it 
 enraged him. He got to his cutlass. 
 The sailor drew the boat under the 
 ship's stern, but tlie drunken skipper 
 flourished his cutlass furiously over 
 his head. " Board me ! ye pirates ! 
 the first that lays a finger on my bul- 
 warks, off goes his hand at the 
 wrist." Suiting the action to the 
 word, he hacked at the tow-rope so 
 vigorously that it gave way, and the 
 boats fell astern. 
 
 Helen Rolleston uttered a shriek of 
 dismay and pity. " save him ! " 
 she cried. 
 
 " Make sail ! " cried Cooper ; and, 
 in a few seconds, they got all her 
 canvas set upon the cutter. 
 
 It seemed a hopeless chase for these 
 shells to sail after that dying monster 
 with her cloud of canvas all drawing, 
 alow and aloft. 
 
 " But it did not prove so. The 
 gentle breeze was an advantage to 
 light craft, and the dying Proserpine 
 was full of water, and could only 
 crawl. 
 
 After a few moments of great anx- 
 iety, the boats crept up, the cutter on
 
 58 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 her port, and the long-boat on her 
 starboard quarter. 
 
 Wylie ran forward, and, liailing 
 Hudson, implored him, in tlic friend- 
 liest tones, to give himself a ehance. 
 Then tried him by his vanity, " Come, 
 and command the boats, old fellow. 
 How can we navigate them on the 
 Pacific, without yon 1" 
 
 Hudson was now leaning over the 
 taffrail utterly drunk. He made no 
 reply to the mate, but merely waved 
 his cutlass feebly in one hand, and his 
 bottle in the other, and gurgled out, 
 " Duty to m' employers." 
 
 Then Cooper, without a Avord, 
 double-reefed the cutter's mainsail, 
 and told Welch to keep as close to 
 the ship's quarter as he dare. Wylie 
 instinctively did the same, and the 
 three craft crawled on in solemn and 
 deadly silence, for neai-ly twenty 
 minutes. 
 
 The wounded ship seemed to re- 
 ceive a death-l)low. She stopped 
 dead, and shook. 
 
 The next moment she pitched 
 gently forward, and her bows went 
 under the water, while her after-part 
 rose into the air, and revealed to 
 those in the cutter two splintered 
 holes in her run, just below the water- 
 line. 
 
 The next moment her stern settled 
 down; the sea yawned horribly, the 
 great waves of her own making 
 ruslied over her upper deck, and the 
 lofty masts and sails, remaining erect, 
 went down with sad majesty into the 
 deep : and nothing remained but the 
 bubbling and foaming of the vora- 
 cious water, that had swallowed up 
 the good ship, and her cargo, and her 
 drunken master. 
 
 All stood up in the boats, ready to 
 save him. But either his cutlass sunk 
 him, or the suction of so great a body 
 drew him down. He was seen no 
 more in this world. 
 
 A loud sigh broke from every living 
 bosom that witnessed that terrible 
 catastrophe. 
 
 It was beyond words : and none 
 were uttered, except by Cooper, who 
 
 spoke so seldom ; yet now three words 
 of terrible import burst from him, 
 and, uttered in his loud, deep voice, 
 rang like the sunk ship's knell over 
 the still bubbling water, — 
 " Scuttled, — uy God ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " Hold your tongue," said Welch, 
 with an oath. 
 
 Mr. Hazel looked at Miss Eolles- 
 ton, and she at him. It was a mo- 
 mentary glance, and her eyes sank 
 directly, and filled with patient tears. 
 
 For the first few minutes after the 
 Proserpine went down, the survivors 
 sat benumbed, as if awaiting their 
 turn to be ingulfed. 
 
 They seemed so little, and the Pro- 
 serpine so big ; yet she was swallowed 
 before their eyes, like a crumb. They 
 lost, for a few moments, all idea of 
 escaping. 
 
 But, true it is, that, "while there 's 
 life there 's hope " : and, as soon as 
 their hearts began to beat again, their 
 eyes i-oved round the horizon, and 
 their elastic minds recoiled against 
 despair. 
 
 I'his was rendered easier by the 
 wonderful beauty of the weather. 
 There were men there who had got 
 down from a sinking ship, into boats 
 heaving and tossing against her side 
 in a gale of wind, and yet been saved : 
 and here all was calm and delightful. 
 To be sure, in those other shipwrecks 
 land had been near, and their greatest 
 peril was over when once the boats 
 got clear of the distressed ship with- 
 out capsizing. Here was no imme- 
 diate peril ; but certain death men- 
 aced them, at an uncertain distance. 
 
 Their situation was briefly this. 
 Should it come on to blow a gale, 
 these open boats, small and loaded, 
 could not hope to live. Therefore 
 they had two chances for life, and no 
 more : they must either make land, — 
 or l)e picked up at sea, — before the 
 weather changed.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 59 
 
 But how? The nearest known 
 land was the group of islands called 
 Juan Fernandez, and they lay some- 
 where to leeward ; hut distant at 
 least nine hundred miles ; and, should 
 tlicy prefer the other chance, then 
 they must heat tliree hundred miles 
 and more to windward ; for Hudson 
 underrating the leak, as is supposed, 
 had run the Proserpine fully tliat dis- 
 tance out of the track of trade. 
 
 Now the ocean is a highway — in 
 law : but, in fact, it contains a few 
 highways, and millions of byways ; 
 and, once a cockle-shell gets into 
 those byways, small indeed is its 
 chance of being seen and picked up 
 by any sea-going vessel. 
 
 Wylie, who was leading, lowered 
 his sail, and hesitated between the 
 two courses we have indicated. How- 
 ever, on the cutter coming up with 
 him, he ordered Cooper to keep her 
 head northeast, and so run all night. 
 He then made all the sail he could, in 
 the same direction, and soon outsailed 
 the cutter. When the sun went down, 
 he was about a mile ahead of her. 
 
 Just beforc'sunset, Mr. Hazel made 
 a discovery that annoyed him very 
 much. He found that Welch iiad put 
 only one bag of biscuit, a ham, a keg 
 of spirit, and a small barrel of water, 
 on board the cutter. 
 
 He remonstrated with him sharply. 
 Welch replied that it was all right; 
 the cutter being small, he had put the 
 rest of her provisions on board the 
 long-boat. 
 
 " On board the long-boat ! " said 
 Hazel, with a look of wonder. " You 
 have actually made our lives depend 
 upon that scoundrel Wylie again. 
 You deserve to be flung into the sea. 
 You have no forethought yourself: 
 yet you will not bo guided by those 
 that" have it." 
 
 Welch hung his head a little at 
 these reproaches. However, he re- 
 plied, rather sullenly, that it was only 
 for one night ; they could signal the 
 long-boat in the morning, and get the 
 other bags, and the cask, out of her. 
 But Mr. Hazel was not to be ap- 
 
 peased. " The morning ! Why, she 
 sails three feet to our two. How do 
 you know he won't run away from 
 us ? I never expect to get within ten 
 miles of him again. We know him ; 
 and he knows we know him." 
 
 Cooper got up, and patted Mr. 
 Hazel on the shoulder, soothingly. 
 " Boat-hook aft," said he to Welch. 
 
 He then, by an ingenious use of the 
 boat-hook and some of the spare 
 canvas, contrived to set out a stud- 
 ding-sail on the other side of the 
 mast. 
 
 Hazel thanked him warmlv. "But 
 Cooper ! Cooper ! " said he, " I 'd 
 give all I have in the world if that 
 bread and water were on board the 
 cutter instead of the long-boat." 
 
 The cutter had now two wings, in- 
 stead of one ; the water bubbling loud 
 under her bows marked her increased 
 speed ; and all fear of being greatly 
 outsailed by her consort began to sub- 
 side. 
 
 A slight sea-fret came on, and ob- 
 scured the sea in part ; but they had 
 a good lantern and compass, and 
 steered the course exactly, all night, 
 according to Wylie's orders, changing 
 the helmsman every four hours. 
 
 Mr. Hazel, without a word, put a 
 rug round Miss Eolleston's shoulders, 
 and another round her feet. 
 
 " 0, not both, sir, please," said 
 she. 
 
 " Am I to he disobeyed by every- 
 body 1 " said he. 
 
 Then she submitted in silence, and 
 in a certain obsequious way that was 
 quite new, and well calculated to dis- 
 arm anger. 
 
 Sooner or later, all slept, except 
 the helmsman. 
 
 At daybreak, Mr. Hazel was 
 wakened by a loud hail from a man 
 in the bows. 
 
 All the sleepers started up. 
 
 " Long-boat not in sight ! " 
 
 It was too true. The ocean was 
 blank : not a sail, large or small, in 
 sight. 
 
 Many voices spoke at once.
 
 60 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 " He has carried on till he has cap- 
 sized lier." 
 
 " He has given us the slip." 
 
 Unwilling to believe so great a ca- 
 lamity, every eye peered and stared 
 all over the sea. In vain. Not a 
 streak that could be a boat's hull, not 
 a speck that could be a sail. 
 
 Tlic little cutter was alone upon 
 the ocean. Alone, w'ith scaiculy two 
 (lays' provisions, nine hundred miles 
 from land, and four hundred miles to 
 leeward of the nearest sea-road. 
 
 Hazel, seeing his worst forebodings 
 realized, sat down in moody, bitter, 
 and boding silence. 
 
 Of the other men some raged and 
 cursed. Some wept aloud. 
 
 The lady, more jjaticnt, put her 
 hands together, and prayed to Him 
 who made the sea and all that therein 
 is. Yet her case was the cruellest. 
 For she was by nature more tiinid 
 than the men, yet she must share 
 their desperate peril. And then to be 
 alone with all these men, and one of 
 them had told her he loved her, and 
 hated the man she was betrothed to ! 
 Shame tortured this delicate creature, 
 as well as fear. Happy for her, that 
 of late, and only of late, she had 
 learned to pray in earnest. " Qui 
 precari novit, premi potest, non potest 
 o])primi." 
 
 It w.is now a race -between starva- 
 tion and drowning, and either way 
 death stared them in the face. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The long-hoat was, at this moment, 
 a hundred miles to windward of the 
 cutter. 
 
 The fact is, that Wylie, the evening 
 before, had been secretly perplexed as 
 to the best course. lie? hail decided 
 to run for the island ; but he was not 
 easy under his own decision ; and, at 
 night, he got more and more discon- 
 tented with it. Finally, at nine o'clock, 
 1'. M., he suddenly gave the order to 
 lutf, and tack : and by daybreak he 
 
 was very near tlie place wlicrc the 
 Proserpine went down : whereas the 
 cutter, having run before the wind 
 all night was, at least, a hundred 
 miles to leeward of him. 
 
 Not to deceive the reader, or let 
 him, for a moment, think we do busi- 
 ness in monsters, we will weigh this 
 act of Wylie's justly. . 
 
 It was just a piece of iron egotism. 
 He preferred, for himself, the chance 
 of being picked up by a vessel. He 
 thought it was about a hair's breadth 
 better than running for an island, as 
 to whose bearing he was not very 
 clear, after all. 
 
 But he was not sure he was taking 
 the best or safest course. The cutter 
 might be saved, after all, and the long- 
 boat lost. 
 
 Meantime he was not sorry of 
 an excuse to shake off the cutter. 
 She contained one man at least who 
 knew he had scuttled the Proserpine; 
 and therefore it was all-important to 
 him to get to London before her, and 
 receive the three thousand ]iounds 
 which was to be his reward for that 
 abominable act. 
 
 But the Avay to get to London be- 
 fore Mr. Hazcf, or else to the bottom 
 of the Pacific before him, was to get 
 back into the sea-road, at all hazards. 
 
 He was not aware that the cutter's 
 water and biscuit were on board his 
 boat ; nor did he discover this till 
 noon next day. And, on making this 
 fearful discovery, he showed himself 
 human: he cried out, with an oath, 
 " What have I done 1 I have damned 
 myself to all eternity ! " 
 
 He then ordered the boat to be put- 
 beibre the wind again ; but the men 
 scowled, and not one stirred a finger; 
 and he saw the futility of this, and 
 did not persist : but groaned aloud : 
 and then sat, staring wildly : finally, 
 like a true sailor, he got to the rum, 
 and stujiehcd his agitated conscience 
 for a time. 
 
 While he lay drunk at the bottom 
 of the boat, his sailors carried out his 
 last instructions, beating southward 
 right ia the wiad's eye.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 ffl 
 
 Five days they beat to Avinchvard, 
 and never saw a sail. Then it fell 
 dead calm ; and so remained for three 
 days more. 
 
 Tlie men began to snffer greatly 
 from cramps, owing to their number 
 and confined position. During the 
 calm, they rowed all day, and with 
 this, and a light westerly breeze that 
 sprung up, they got into the sea-road 
 again : but, having now sailed three 
 hundred and hfty miles to the south- 
 ward, they found a great change in 
 the temperature: the nights were so 
 cold that tliey were fain to huddle 
 together, to keep a little warmth in 
 their bodies. 
 
 On the fifteenth day of their voyage 
 it began to rain and blow, and then 
 they were never a whole minute out 
 of peril. Hand forever on the sheet, 
 eye on the waves, to ease her at the 
 right moment: and, with all this care, 
 the spray eternally flying half-way 
 over her mast, and often a body of 
 water making a clean breach over her, 
 and the men bailing night and day 
 with their very hats, or she could not 
 have lived an hour. 
 
 At last, when they were almost 
 dead with wet, cold, fatigue, and 
 danger, a vessel came in sight, and 
 crept slowly up, about two miles to 
 windward of the distressed boat. 
 With the heave of the waters they 
 co'uld see little more than her sails ; 
 but they ran up a bright bandanna 
 handkerchief to their mast-head ; and 
 the ship made them out. She hoisted 
 Uutch colors, and — continued her 
 course. 
 
 Then the poor abandoned creatures 
 wept, and raved, and cursed, in their 
 frenzy, glaring after that cruel, shame- 
 less man, who could do such an act, 
 yet hoist a color, and show of what 
 nation he was the native — and the 
 disgrace. 
 
 But one of them said not a word. 
 This was Wylie. He sat shivering, 
 and remembered how he had aban- 
 doned the cutter, and all on board. 
 Loud sighs broke from his laboring 
 breast; but not a word. Yet one 
 
 word was ever present to his mind ; 
 and seemed written in fire on the 
 night of clouds, and howled in his 
 ears by the wind, — Retribution ! 
 
 And now came a dirty night — to 
 men on ships ; a fearful night to men 
 in boats. The sky black, the sea on 
 fire with crested billows, thi^t broke 
 over tbetn every minute; their light 
 was washed out ; their provisions 
 drenched and spoiled ; bail as they 
 woidd, the boat was always filling. 
 Up to their knees in water; cold as 
 ice, blinded with spray, deafened with 
 roaring billows, they tossed and tum- 
 bled in a fiery foaming hell of waters, 
 and still, though despairing, clung to 
 their lives, and bailed with their hats 
 unceasingly. 
 
 Day broke, and the first sight it 
 revealed to them was a brig to wind- 
 ward staggering along, and pitching 
 under close-reefed topsails. 
 
 They started np, and waved their 
 hats, and cried aloud. But the wind 
 carried their voices to leeward, and 
 the brig staggered on. 
 
 They ran up their little signal of 
 distress ; but still the ship staggered 
 on. 
 
 Then the miserable men shook 
 hands all round, and gave themselves 
 up for lost. 
 
 But, at this moment the brig hoist- 
 ed a vivid flag all stripes and stars, and 
 altered her course a point or two. 
 
 She crossed the boat's track a mile 
 ahead, and her people looked over the 
 bulwarks, and waved their hats to en- 
 courage those tossed and desperate 
 men. 
 
 Having thus given them the weath- 
 er-gage, the brig hove to for them. 
 
 They ran down to her, and crept 
 under her lee ; down came ropes to 
 them, held by friendly hands, and 
 friendly faces shone down at them : 
 eager grasps seized each as he went 
 up the ship's side, and so, in a very 
 short time, they sent the woman up, 
 and the rest being all sailors, and 
 clever as cats, they were safe onboard 
 the whaling brig RIaria, Captain Slo- 
 cum, of Nantucket, U. S.
 
 62 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Their lop:, compass, and instru- 
 ments were also saved. 
 
 Tlie boat was cast adrift, and was 
 soon after seen bottom upwards on 
 the crest of a wave. 
 
 The jiood Samaritan in command 
 of the jViaria supplied them with dry 
 clothes out of the ship's stores, jjood 
 food, and medical attendance, which 
 was much needed, their le<rs and feet 
 beini^ in a deplorable condition, and 
 their own surgeon crippled. 
 
 A southeasterly gale induced the 
 American sicipper to give Cape Horn 
 a wide berth, and the Maria soon 
 found iierself three degrees south of 
 that perilous coast. There she en- 
 countered lield-ice. In this labyrinth 
 they dodged and worried for eighteen 
 days, until a sudden cliop in the wind 
 gave the captain a chance, of which 
 he promptly availed himself; and in 
 forty hours they sighted Terra del 
 Fuego. 
 
 During this time, the rescued crew, 
 having recovered Irom the effects of 
 their hardsiiips, fell into the work of 
 the ship, and took their turns with the 
 Yankee seamen. The brig was short- 
 handed ; but now trimmed and han- 
 dled by a full crew and the Proser- 
 j)ine's men, who were first-class sea- 
 men, and worked with a will, because 
 work was no longer a duty, she ex- 
 hibited a speed tlie captain had al- 
 most forgotten was in the craft. Now 
 speed at sea means economy, for 
 every day added to a voyage is so 
 much off the profits. Slocum was 
 part owner of the vessel, and shrewd- 
 ly alive to the value of the seamen. 
 When about three hundred miles 
 south of Buenos Ayres, Wylie pro- 
 posed that they should be landed 
 there, from whence they might be 
 transshipped to a vessel bound for 
 liome. 
 
 This was objected to by Slocum, on 
 the ground that, by such a deviation 
 from his course, he must lose three 
 days, and the port-dues at liuenos 
 Ayres were heavy. 
 
 Wylie undertook that the house of 
 Wardiaw and Sou should indemnify 
 
 the brig for all expenses and losses 
 incurred. 
 
 Still the American hesitated ; at 
 last he honestly told Wylie he wished 
 to keep the men ; he liked them, they 
 liked him. He had sounded them, 
 and they had no objection to join his 
 ship, and sign articles for a three 
 years' whaling voyage, provided they 
 did not thcrel)v forfeit tlie wages to 
 which they would be entitled on 
 reaclung Liverpool. Wylie went fur- 
 ward and asked the men if they would 
 take service with the Yankee captain. 
 All but three expressed tlieir desire to 
 do so ; these three had families in 
 England, and refused. Tlie mate 
 gave the others a release, and an or- 
 der on Wardiaw and Co. for tlieir full 
 wages for the voyage ; then they 
 signed articles with Captain Slocum, 
 and entered the American Mercantile 
 Navy. 
 
 Two days after this they sighted 
 the high lands at the mouth of the 
 Rio de la Plata at 10 p. 3i., and lay to 
 for a pilot. After three hours' delay 
 they were boarded by a pilot-boat, 
 and then began to creep into the port. 
 The night was very dark, and a thin 
 white fog lay on the water. 
 
 Wylie was sitting on the talTrail, 
 and conversing with Slocum, ■when 
 the lookout forward sung out, " Sail 
 ho ! " 
 
 Another voice almost sim\dtaneous- 
 ly yelled out of the fog, " Port your 
 helm ! " 
 
 Suddenly out of the mist, and close 
 aboard tlie IMaria, appeared the hull 
 and canvas of a large ship. The brig 
 was crossing her course, and her great 
 bowsprit barely missed the brig's 
 mainsail. It stood for a moment over 
 Wylie's head. lie looked up, and 
 tlicre was the figure-head of the ship 
 looming almost within his reach. It 
 was a colossal green woman ; one arm 
 extended grasjicd a golden harp, the 
 other was pressed to her head in the 
 attitude of holding back her wild and 
 flowing hair. The face seemed to 
 glare down upon the two men : in 
 another moment the monster, gliding
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 63 
 
 on, just missing the brig, was lost in 
 the log. 
 
 " That was a narrow squeak," said 
 Slocum. 
 
 Wylie made no answer, but looked 
 into the darkness after the vessel. 
 
 He had recognized her figure-head. 
 
 It was the Shannon ! 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Before the Maria sailed again, 
 with the men who formed a part of 
 Wylie's crew, he made them sign a 
 declaration before the Engliali Consul 
 at Buenos Ayres. This document set 
 forth the manner in which the Proser- 
 pine foundered ; it was artfully made 
 up of focts enough to deceive a care- 
 less listener ; but, when "Wylie read it 
 over to them, he slurred over certain 
 parts, which he took care, also, to ex- 
 press in language above the compre- 
 hension of such men. Of course 
 tliey assented eagerly to what they 
 did not understand, and signed the 
 statement conscientiously. 
 
 So Wylie and his three men were 
 shipped on board the Boadicea, bound 
 for Liverpool, in Old England, while 
 the others sailed with Captain Slocum 
 for Nantucket, in New England. 
 
 The Boadicea was a clipper laden 
 with hides and a miscellaneous cargo. 
 For seventeen days she flew before a 
 southerly gale, being on her best sail- 
 ing point, anil, after one of the shortest 
 passages she had ever m;ide, she lay 
 to, outside the bar, off the Mersey. It 
 wanted but one hour to daylight, the 
 tide was flowing; the pilot sprang 
 aboard. 
 
 " What do you draw 1 " he asked 
 of the master. 
 
 " Fifteen feet, barely," was the rc- 
 
 piy- 
 
 " That will do," and the vessel's 
 head was hud for the river. 
 
 They passed a large bark, with her 
 top-sails backed. 
 
 " Ay," remarked the pilot, " she 
 has waited since the half-ebb ; there 
 
 ain't more than four hours in the 
 twenty-four that such craft as that can 
 get in." 
 
 " What is she ? An American 
 liner ? " asked Wylie, peering through 
 the gloom. 
 
 " No," said the pilot ; " she 's an 
 Australian ship. She 's the Shannon, 
 from Sydney." 
 
 The mate started, looked at the 
 man, then at the vessel. Twice the 
 Shannon had thus met him, as if to 
 satisfy him that his object had been 
 attained, and each time she seemed to 
 him not an inanimate thing, but a si- 
 lent accomplice. A chill of fear struck 
 through the man's frame as he looked 
 at her. Yes, there she lay, and in her 
 hold were safely stowed £ 1G0,000 in 
 gold, marked lead and copper. 
 
 Wylie had no luggage nor effects 
 to detain him on board ; he landed, 
 and, having bestowed his three com- 
 panions in a sailors' boarding-house, 
 ho was hastening to the shipping 
 agents of Wardlaw and Son to an- 
 nounce his arrival and the fate of the 
 Proserpine. He had reached their 
 offices in Water Street before he 
 recollected that it was barely half past 
 five o'clock, and, though broad day- 
 light on that July morning, merchants' 
 offices are not open at that hour. 
 The sight of the Shannon had so 
 bewildered him that he had not 
 noticed that the shops were all shut, 
 the streets deserted. Then a thought 
 occurred to him, — why not he a 
 bearer of his own news 1 He did not 
 require to turn the idea twice over, 
 but resolved, for many reasons, to 
 adopt it. As he hurried to the rail- 
 way-station, he tried to recollect the 
 hour at which the early train started ; 
 but his confused and excited mind 
 refused to perform the function of 
 memory. The Shannon dazed him. 
 
 At the railway-station he found that 
 a train had started at 4 a. m., and 
 there was nothitig until 7.30. This 
 check sobered him a little, and he 
 went back to the docks ; he walked 
 out to the farther end of that noble 
 line of berths, and sat down on the
 
 G4 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 ver|2;e with his legs dangling over the 
 water, lie waiicd an hour ; it was 
 six o'clock hy the great dial at St. 
 George's Dock. His eyes were fixed 
 oil the Shannon, which was moving 
 slowly up the river ; she came abreast 
 to wiiere he sat. The few sails requi- 
 site to give her stceraj,fe fell. Her 
 anchor-chain rattled, and she swung 
 round with the tide. The clock 
 struck the half-liour ; a boat left the 
 side of the vessel and made straight 
 for the steps near where he was seated. 
 A tali, noble-looking man sat in the 
 stern-sheets beside the coxswain ; he 
 was put ashore, and, after exchanging 
 a few words with the boat's crew, he 
 mounted the steps which led him 
 to Wylie's side, followed by one of 
 the sailors, who carried a portman- 
 teau. 
 
 He stood for a single moment on 
 the quiiy, and stamjjed his foot on the 
 broad stones ; then, heaving a deep 
 siL'^h of satisfaction, he murmured, 
 "Thank God!" 
 
 He turned towards "\Yylie. 
 
 " Can you tell me, my man, at 
 what hour the first train starts for 
 London 1 " 
 
 " There is a slow train at 7.30 and 
 an express at 9." 
 
 " The ex])ress will serve me, and 
 give me time for breakfast at the 
 Adelphi. Tiiank you; good morn- 
 ing"; and the gentleman passed on, 
 followed by the sailor. 
 
 Wylie looked after him ; he noted 
 that erect military carriage and crisp, 
 gray hair and thick white mustache; 
 he had a vague idea that he had seen 
 that face before, and tlie memory 
 troubled him. 
 
 At 7.30 Wylie started for London ; 
 the military man followed him in the 
 express at 9, and caught him up at 
 Ku^by ; together they arrived at the 
 station at Euston Square ; it was a 
 quarter to three. Wylie hailed a cab, 
 but, before he could struggle through 
 the crowd to reach it, a railway jiorter 
 threw a ])ortmanteau on its roof, and 
 bis military acquaintance took posses- 
 sion of it. 
 
 "All right," said the porter. 
 "What address, sir?" 
 
 Wylie did not hear what the gentle- 
 man said, but the porter shoutecl it to 
 the cabmim, and then he did hear it. 
 
 " No. — Russell Square." 
 
 It was the house of Arthur Ward- 
 law ! 
 
 Wylie took off his hat, rubbed his 
 frowzy hair, and gaped after the cab. 
 
 He entered another cab, and told 
 the driver to go to "No. — Fen- 
 church Street." 
 
 It was the ofBce of Wardlaw and 
 Son. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Our scene now changes from the 
 wild ocean and its perils to a snug 
 room in Fencburch Street, the in- 
 ner office of Wardlaw and Sou : a 
 large apartment, panelled with fine 
 old mellow Spanish oak ; and all the 
 furniture in kecjiing ; the carpet, a 
 thick Axminster of sober colors ; the 
 chairs, of oak and morocco, very sub- 
 stantial ; a large otfice-table, with 
 oaken legs like very columns, sub- 
 stantial ; two Milner safes ; a globe of 
 unusual size, with a handsome tent 
 over it, made of roan leather, figured ; 
 the walls hung with long oak boxes, 
 about ciyht inches broad, containing 
 rolled maps of high quality and great 
 dimensions; to consult which, oaken 
 sceptres tipped with brass hooks stood 
 ready : with these, the great maps could 
 be drawn down and inspected ; and, 
 on being released, flew up into their 
 wooden boxes again. Besides these 
 were hung up a few drawings, repre- 
 senling outlines, and inner sections, of 
 vessels : and, on a smaller table, lay 
 models, almanacs, etc. The great 
 office-table was covered witli writing 
 materials and papers, all but a square 
 s])ace enclosed with a little silver rail, 
 and inside that s])ace lay a purple 
 morocco c;ise about ten inches square; 
 .it was locked, and cont;iined an ex- 
 quisite i^ortrait of Helen Rolleston. 
 
 This aijartmeut was so situated, and
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 G5 
 
 the frames of the plate-glass windows 
 so well made and substantial, that, let 
 a storm blow a thousand ships ashore, 
 it could not be felt, nor heard, in 
 "Wardiaw's inner otKee. 
 
 But appearances are deceitful ; and 
 who can wall out a sea of troubles, 
 and the tempests of the mind ? 
 
 The inmate of that office was bat- 
 tling for his commercial existence, 
 under accumulated difhculties and 
 dangers. Like those who sailed the 
 Proserpine's long-boat, upon that 
 dirty night, which so nearly swamped 
 her, his eye had now to be on every 
 wave, and the sheet forever in his 
 hand. 
 
 Llis measures had been ably taken ; 
 but, as will happen when clever men 
 are driven into a corner, he had 
 backed events rather too freely against 
 time ; had allowed too slight a margin 
 for unforeseen delays. For instance, 
 he had averaged the Shannon's pre- 
 vious performances, and had calculat- 
 ed on her arrival too nicely. She 
 M-as a fortnight overdue, and that de- 
 lay brought peril. 
 
 He had also counted upon getting 
 news of the Proserpine. But not a 
 word had reached Lloyd's as yet. 
 
 At this very crisis came the panic 
 of '66. Overend and Gurney broke ; 
 and Wardiaw's experience led him to 
 fear that, sooner or later, there would 
 be a run on every bank in London. 
 Now he had borrowed .£ 80,000 at one 
 bank, and J^ 35,000 at another: and, 
 without his ships, could not possibly 
 pay a quarter of the money. If the 
 banks in question Mere run upon, and 
 obliged to call in all their resources, 
 his credit must go ; and this, in his 
 precarious position, was ruin. 
 
 lie had concealed his whole condi- 
 tion from his father, by false book- 
 keeping. Indeed, he had only two 
 confidants in the world ; poor old 
 Michael Penfold, and Helen Eolles- 
 ton's portrait ; and even to these two 
 he made half confidences. He dared 
 not tell either of them all he had 
 done, and all he was going to do. 
 
 His redeeming feature was as brijrht 
 
 as ever. He still loved Helen Rolles- 
 ton with a chaste, constant, and 
 ardent affection that did him honor. 
 He loved money too well : but he 
 loved Helen better. In all his trou- 
 bles and worries, it was his one con- 
 solation to unlock her portrait, and 
 gaze on it, and purify his soul for a 
 few minutes. Sometimes he would 
 apologize to it for an act of doubtful 
 morality. " How can I risk the loss 
 of you 1 " was his favorite excuse. 
 No : he must have credit. He must 
 have money. She must not suffer 
 by his past imprudences. They must 
 be repaired at any cost — for her 
 sake. 
 
 It was ten o'clock in the morning : 
 Mr. Penfold was sorting the letters 
 for his employer, when a buxom 
 young woman rushed into the outer 
 office, crying, " Mr. Penfold ! " and 
 sank into a chair, breathless. 
 
 " Dear heart ! what is the matter 
 now ? " said the old gentleman. 
 
 " I have had a dream, sir : I 
 dreamed I saw Joe Wylie out on the 
 seas, in a boat ; and the wind it was 
 a blowing and the sea a roaring to 
 that degree as Joe looked at me, and 
 says he, 'Pray for me, Nancy Rouse.' 
 So I says, ' O dear, Joe, what is the 
 matter '{ and what ever is become of 
 the Proserpine 1 ' 
 
 " ' Gone to Hell ! ' says he : which 
 he knows I object to foul language. 
 ' Gone — there — ' says he, ' and I am 
 sailing in her wake. pray for me, 
 Nancy Rouse ! ' "With that, I tries 
 to pray in my dream, and screams in- 
 stead, and wakes myself. O Mr. 
 Penfold, do tell me, have you got any 
 news of the Proserpine this morn- 
 ing ? " 
 
 " What is that to you ? " inquired 
 Arthur Warlaw, who had entered 
 just in time to hear this last querj'. 
 
 " What is it to me ! " cried Nancy, 
 firing up ; " it is more to me, perhnps, 
 than it is to you, for th:it matter." 
 
 Penfold explained, timidly, " Sir, 
 ^Irs. Rouse is my landhidy." 
 
 " Which I have never been to 
 church with any man yet of the name
 
 66 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 of Rouse, leastways, not in my wak- 
 ing liours," cdyccl ill the lady. 
 
 " Miss Rouse, I should say," said ! 
 Pcnfold, apolo;.'izing. " I beg pardon, 
 but I thought Mrs. might sound bet- 
 ter ill a landlady. Please, sir, Mr. 
 Wylie, the mate of the Proserpine, 
 is her — her — sweetheart." 
 
 " Not he. Leastways, he is only 
 on trial, after a manner." 
 
 " Of course, sir — only after a 
 manner," added Penfold, sadly per- 
 plexed. " Miss Rouse is incapable 
 of anything else. But, if you please 
 m'm, 1 don't presume to know the 
 exact relation " ; and then with 
 great reserve, " but you know you 
 are an.xious about him." 
 
 Miss House sniffed, and threw her 
 nose in the air, — as if to throw a 
 doubt even on that view of the mat- 
 ter. 
 
 " Well, madam," says Wardlaw, 
 " I am sorry to say I can give you no 
 information. I share your anxiety, 
 for I have got £160,000 of gold in tiie 
 ship. You miiiht inquire at Lloyd's. 
 Direct her there, Mr. Pcnfold, and 
 bring me my letters." 
 
 With this he entered his inner of- 
 fice, sat down, took out a golden key, 
 opened the portrait of Helen, gazed 
 at it, kissed it, uttered a deep sigh, and 
 prepared to face the troubles of the day. 
 
 Penfold brought in a leathern case, 
 like an enormous bill-book : it had 
 thirty vertical compartments : and the 
 names of various cities and seaports, 
 with which Wardlaw and Son did 
 business, were printed in gold letters 
 on some of these compartments ; on 
 others, the names of persons ; and on 
 two compartments, the word " Mis- 
 cellaneous." Michael brought this 
 machine in, filled with a correspond- 
 ence enough to break a man's heart 
 to look at. 
 
 This was one of the consequences 
 of Wardlaw's position. He durst not 
 let his correspondence be read, and 
 filtered, in the outer office : he opened 
 the whole mass ; sent some back into 
 the outer office : then touched a hand- 
 bell, and a man emerged from the 
 
 small apartment adjoining his own. 
 This was Mr. Atkins, his short-hand 
 writer. He dictated to this man some 
 twenty letters, wiiicli were taken down 
 in short-hand ; the man retired to copy 
 tliem, and write them out in duplicate 
 from his own notes, and this reduced 
 the number to seven : these Wardlaw 
 sat down to write himself, and lock 
 up the copies. 
 
 While he was writing them, he re- 
 ceived a visitor or two, whom he de- 
 spatched as quickly as bis letters. 
 
 He was writing liis last letter, when 
 he heard in the outer office a voice ho 
 thought he knew. He got up and lis- 
 tened. It was so. Of all the voices 
 in the city, this was the one it most 
 dismayed him to hear in his office at 
 the present crisis. 
 
 He listened on, and satisfied himself 
 that a fatal blow was coming. He 
 then walked quietly to his table, seat- 
 ed himself, and prepared to receive 
 the stroke with external composure. 
 
 Penfold announced, "Mr. Burten- 
 shaw." 
 
 " Show him in," said Wardlaw, 
 quietly. 
 
 Mr. Burtenshaw, one of the mana- 
 gers of Morland's bank, came in, and 
 Wardlaw motioned him courteously 
 to a chair, while he finished his letter, 
 which took only a few moments. 
 
 While he was sealing it, he half 
 turned to his visitor, and said, " No 
 bad news ? Morland's is safe of 
 course." 
 
 " Well," said Burtenshaw, " there 
 is a run upon our bank, — a severe 
 one. We could not hope to escape 
 the efltects of the panic." 
 
 He then, after an uneasj' pause, and 
 with apparent reluctance, added, " I 
 am requested by the other directors to 
 assure you it is their present extremity 
 alone, that — In short, we are really 
 compelled to beg you to repay the 
 amount advanced to vou by the 
 bank." 
 
 Wardlaw showed no alarm, but 
 great surprise. This was clever ; for 
 lie felt great alarm, and no surprise. 
 
 " The £ 81,000," said he. " Why,
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 67 
 
 that advance was upon the freight of 
 the Proserpine. Forty-five tliousand 
 ounces of gold. She ought to be here 
 by tills time. Slie is in tiie Channel 
 at this moment, no doubt." 
 
 "Excuse me; she is overdue,- and 
 the underwriters uneasy. I have made 
 inquiries." 
 
 " At any rate, slie is fully insured, 
 and you hold the policies. Besides, 
 the name of Wardhiw on your books 
 should stand for bullion." 
 
 Burtenshaw shook his head. 
 "Names are at a discount to-day, sir. 
 "We can't pay you down on the coun- 
 ter. Why, our depositors look cross 
 at Bank of England notes." 
 
 To an inquiry, half ironical, wheth- 
 er the managers really exj)ected him 
 to find £ 81,000 cash, at a few hours' 
 notice, Burtenshaw replied, sorrow- 
 fully, that they felt for his difficulty 
 whilst deploring their own ; but that, 
 after all, it was a debt : and, in short, 
 if he could find no means of pay- 
 ing it, they must suspend payment 
 for a time, and issue a statement — 
 and — 
 
 He hesitated to complete his sen- 
 tence, and Wardlaw did it for him. 
 
 "And ascribe your suspension to 
 my inability to refund this advance 1 " 
 said he, bitterl3^ 
 
 " I am afraid that is the construc- 
 tion it will bear." 
 
 Wardlaw rose, to intimate he had 
 no more to say. 
 
 Burtenshaw, however, was not dis- 
 posed to go without some clear under- 
 standing. " May I say we shall hear 
 from you, sir? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 And so they wished each other good 
 morning; and Wardlaw sank into his 
 chair. 
 
 In that quiet dialogue, ruin had 
 been inflicted and received without 
 any apparent agitation ; ay, and worse 
 than ruin, — exposure. 
 
 Alorland's suspension, on account 
 of money lost by Wardhaw and Son, 
 would at once bring old Wardlaw to 
 London, and the affairs of the firm 
 would be investigated, and the son's 
 
 false system of book-keeping he dis- 
 covered. 
 
 He sat stupefied awhile, then put 
 on his hat, and rushed to his solicitor; 
 on the way, he fell in with a great 
 talker, who told him there was a ru- 
 mor the Shannon was lost in the Pa- 
 cific. 
 
 At this he nearly fainted in the 
 street; and his friend took him back 
 to his office in a deplorable condition. 
 All this time he had been feigning 
 anxiety about the Proserpine, and 
 concealing his real anxiety about the 
 Shannon. To do him justice, he lost 
 sight of everything in the world now 
 but Helen. He sent old Penfield in 
 hot haste to Lloyd's, to inquire for 
 news of the ship ; and then ho sat 
 down sick at heart ; and all he could 
 do now was to open her portrait, and 
 gaze at it througii eyes blinded with 
 tears. Even a vague rumor, which 
 he hoped might be false, had driven 
 all his commercial manoeuvres out of 
 him, and made all other- calamities 
 seem small. 
 
 And so they all are small, compared 
 with the death of the creature we love. 
 
 While he sat thus, in a stupor of 
 fear and grief, he heard a well-known 
 voice in the outer office ; and, next 
 after Burtenshaw's, it was the one 
 that caused him the most apprehen- 
 sion. It was his father's. 
 
 Wardlaw senior rarely visited the 
 office now ; and this was not his hour. 
 So Arthur knew something extraor- 
 dinary had brought him uj) to town. 
 And he could not doubt that it was 
 the panic, and that he had been to 
 Morland's, or would go there in 
 course of the day ; but, indeed, it 
 was more probable that he had al- 
 readj^ heard something, and was come 
 to investigate. 
 
 Wardlaw senior entered the room. 
 
 " Good morning, Arthur," said he. 
 " I 've got good news for you." 
 
 Arthur was quite startled by an an- 
 nouncement that accorded so little 
 with his expectations. 
 
 " Good news — for ?ne ? " said he, 
 in a faint, incredulous tone.
 
 68 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 " Ay, glorious news ! Have n't you 
 been anxious about t!ie Shannon 1 I 
 bave; more anxious than I would 
 own." 
 
 Arthur started up. " The Shannon ! 
 God bless you, father." 
 
 " She lies at anchor in the Mersey," 
 roared the old man, with all a father's 
 pride at bringing such good news. 
 " Why, the Kollestons will be in Lon- 
 don at 2.15. See, here is his tele- 
 gram." 
 
 At this moment in ran Penfold, to 
 tell them that the Shannon was up at 
 Lloyd's, had anchored off Liverpool 
 last night. 
 
 There was hearty shaking of iiands, 
 and Arthur Wardlaw was the hap- 
 piest man in London — for a little 
 while. 
 
 " Got the telegram at Elm-trees, 
 this morning, and came up by the 
 first express," said Wardlaw sen- 
 ior. 
 
 The telegram was from Sir Edward 
 RoUeston. " Reached Liverpool last 
 ni(jht ; loill be at Euston, two-fifieen." 
 
 " Not a word from her ! " 
 
 " O, there was no time to write ; 
 and ladies do not use the telegram." 
 He added, slyly, " Perhaps she thought 
 coming in person would do as well, or 
 better,' ch ! " 
 
 "But why does he telegraph you 
 instead of me ? " 
 
 " I am sure I don't know. What 
 does it matter '? Yes, I do know. It 
 was settled months ago that he and 
 Helen should come to me at Elm-trees, 
 so I was the proper person to tele- 
 graph. I '11 go and meet them at the 
 station; there is plenty of time. But, 
 I say, Arthur, have you seen the pa- 
 
 jjers 
 
 ? Bartlev Brothers oblijred to 
 
 wiml up. JMajile and Cox, of Liver- 
 pool, ^^one ; Atlantic trading. 'Jerry 
 and Brown suspended. International 
 credit gone. Old friends, some of 
 these. Hopley and Timms, railway 
 contractors, failed, sir ; liabilities, sev- 
 en hundred thousand pounds and 
 more." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Arthur, pompous- 
 ly : " 1866 will long be remembered 
 
 for its revelations of commercial mo- 
 rality." 
 
 The old gentleman, on this, asked 
 his son, with excusable vanity, wheth- 
 er he had done ill in steering clear of 
 speculation ; he then congratulated 
 him on having listened to good advice, 
 and stuck to legitimate business. " I 
 must say, Arthur," added he, " your 
 books are models for any trading 
 firm." 
 
 Arthur winced in secret under this 
 praise, for it occurred to him that in 
 a few days his father would discover 
 those books were all a sham, and the 
 accounts a fabrication. 
 
 However, the unpleasant topic was 
 soon interrupted, and effectually, too ; 
 for Michael looked in, with an air of 
 satisfaction on his benevolent counte- 
 nance, and said, " Gentlemen, such an 
 arrival ! Here is Miss Rouse's sweet- 
 heart, that she dreamed was drowned." 
 
 " What is the man to me ? " said 
 Arthur, peevishly. He did not recog- 
 nize Wylie under that title. 
 
 " La, Mr. Arthur ! why, he is the 
 mate of the Proserpine," said Pen- 
 fold. 
 
 " What ! Wylie ! Joseph Wy- 
 lie?" cried Arthur, in a sudden ex- 
 citement, that contrasted strangely 
 with his previous indifference. 
 
 " What is that ? " cried Wardlaw 
 senior ; " the Proserpine ; show him 
 in at once." 
 
 Now this caused Arthur Wardlaw 
 considerable anxiety ; for obvious 
 reasons he did not want his father 
 and this sailor to exchange a word 
 together. However, that was inev- 
 itable now : the door opened, and the 
 bronzed face and sturdy figure of 
 Wylie, clad in a rough pea-jacket, 
 came slouching in. 
 
 Arthur went hastily to meet him, 
 and gave him an expres>;ivc look of 
 warninir, even while he welcomed him 
 iu cordial accents. 
 
 " Glad to sec you safe home," said 
 Wardlaw senior. 
 
 " Thank ye, gnv'nor," said Wylie. 
 " Had a squeak for it, this time." 
 
 " Where is your ship i "
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 69 
 
 Wylie shook his head sorrowfuUy. 
 "Bottom of the Pacific." 
 
 " Good iieiivens ! What ! is she 
 lost ? " 
 
 "That she is, sir: foundered at 
 sea, 1,200 miles from the Horn, and 
 more." 
 
 " And the freight ? the gold '? " put 
 in Arthur, with well-feigned anxiety. 
 
 "Not an ounce saved," said Wylie, 
 disconsolately. " A liundred and 
 sixty thousand pounds gone to the 
 bottom." 
 
 " Good heavens ! " 
 
 "Ye see, sir," said Wylie,. "the 
 ship encountered one gale after 
 another, and labored a good deal, 
 first and last; and we all say her 
 seams must iiave opened ; for we 
 never could find the leak that sunk 
 her," and he cast a meaning glance at 
 Arthur Wardlaw. 
 
 " No matter how it happened," said 
 the old merchant : " are we insured to 
 the full ; that is the first question ■? " 
 
 " To the last shilling." 
 
 " Well done, Arthur." 
 
 "But still it is most unlucky. 
 Some weeks must elapse before the 
 insurances can be realized, and a por- 
 tion of the gold was paid for in bills at 
 short date." 
 
 " The rest in cash ? " 
 
 " Cash and merchandise." 
 
 " Tlien there is the proper margin. 
 Draw on my private account, at the 
 Bank of England." 
 
 These few simple words showed the 
 struggling young merchant a way out 
 of all his difficulties. 
 
 His heart leaped so, he dared not 
 reply, lest he should excite the old 
 gentleman's suspicions. 
 
 But ere he could well draw his 
 breath for joy, came a freezer. 
 
 " Mr. Burtenshaw, sir." 
 
 " Bid him wait," said Arthur, aloud, 
 and cast a look of great anxiety on 
 Penfold, which the poor old man, with 
 all his simplicity, comprehended well 
 enough. 
 
 " Ijurtcnshaw, from Morland's. 
 What docs he want of us ? " said 
 Wardlaw senior, knitting bis brows. 
 
 Arthur turned cold all over. " Per- 
 haps to ask me not to draw out my 
 balance. It is less than usual : but 
 they are run upon ; and, as you are 
 good enough to let me draw on you 
 — By the by, perhaps you will sign 
 a check before you go to the station." 
 
 " How much do you want? " 
 
 " I really don't know, till I have 
 consulted Penfold : the gold was a 
 large and advantageous purchase, 
 sir." 
 
 " No doubt ; no doubt. I '11 give 
 you my signature ; and you can fill 
 in the amount." 
 
 He drew a check in fiivor of Arthur 
 Wardlaw, signed it, and left him to 
 fill in the figures. 
 
 He then looked at his watch, and 
 remarked they would barely have 
 time to get to the station. 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " cried Arthur ; 
 "and I can't go. I must learn the 
 particulars of the loss of the Proser- 
 pine, and prepare the statement at 
 once for the underwriters." 
 
 " Well, never mind, /can go." 
 
 "But what will she think of mel 
 I ought to be the first to welcome 
 her." 
 
 " I '11 make your excuses." 
 
 " No, no ; say nothing : after all, it 
 was you who received the telegram : 
 so you naturally meet her ; but you 
 will bring her here, father : you won't 
 whisk my darling down to Elm-trees, 
 till vou have blest me with the sight 
 of lier." 
 
 " I will not be so cruel, fond lover," 
 said old Wardlaw, laughing, and took 
 up his hat and gloves to go. 
 
 Arthur went to the door with him, 
 in great anxiety, lest he should ques- 
 tion Burtenshaw : but, peering into 
 the outer office, he observed Biuten- 
 shaw was not there. Michael had 
 caught his emphiyer's anxious look, 
 and conveyed the Banker into the 
 small room where the short-hand 
 writer was at work. But Burten- 
 shaw was one of a struggling firm ; 
 to him every minute was an hour : he 
 had sat, fuming with impatience, so 
 long as he heard talkins: in the inner
 
 70 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 office ; and, the moment it ceased, he 
 took the liberty of coming in : so that 
 he opened the side door just as 
 "Wardlaw senior was passing through 
 the centre door. 
 
 Instantly Wardlaw junior whipped 
 before him, to hide his ligure from his 
 retreating father. 
 
 AVylic — who all this time had been 
 sitting silent, looking from one to the 
 other, and (juietly puzzling out the 
 game, as well as lie could — observed 
 this movement, and grinned. 
 
 As for Artiuir Wardlaw, he saw 
 his father safe out, then gave a sigh 
 of relief, and walked to his office 
 table, and sat down, and began to fdl 
 in the check. 
 
 Burtenshaw drew near, and said, 
 "I am instructed to say that fifty 
 thousand pounds on account will be 
 accepted." 
 
 Perhaps if this proposal had been 
 made a few seconds sooner, the in- 
 genious Arthur would have availed 
 himself of it : but, as it was, he pre- 
 ferred to take the high and mighty 
 tone. " I decline anv concession," 
 said he. "Mr. Pcnfohl, take this 
 check to the Bank of En;;land. ,£ 81 ,- 
 647 10s. that is the amount, capital 
 and interest, up to noon this day : 
 hand the sum to Jlr. Burtenshaw, 
 taking his receipt, or, if he prefers it, 
 pay it across his counter, to my 
 credit. That will perhaps arrest the 
 run." 
 
 Burtenshaw stammered out his 
 thanks. 
 
 Wardlaw cut him short. " Good 
 morning, sir," said he. " I have 
 business of importance. Good day," 
 and bowed him out. 
 
 " This is a High-flier," thought 
 Burtenshaw. 
 
 Wardlaw then opened the side door, 
 and called his short-hand writer. 
 
 " Mr. Atkins, ])Icase step into the 
 outer office, and don't let a soul come 
 in to me. Mind, I am out for the 
 dav. Except to Miss Rolleston and 
 hei- father." 
 
 He then closed all the doors, and 
 sunk exhausted into a chair, mutter- 
 
 it^, " Thank Heaven ! I have got 
 rid of them all for an hour or two. 
 Now, Wylie." 
 
 Wylie seemed in no hurry to enter 
 upon the required subject. 
 
 Said he, evasively, " Why, guv'nor, 
 it seems to me you are among the 
 breakers here yourself." 
 
 " Nothing of the sort, if you have 
 managed your work cleverly. Come, 
 tell me all, before we are interrupted 
 again." 
 
 " Tell ye all about it ! Why, there 's 
 part on 't I am afraid to think on; 
 let alone talk about it." 
 
 " Si)are me your scruples, and give 
 me your facts," said Wardlaw, coldly. 
 " First of all, did you succeed in shift- 
 ing the bullion as agreed 1 " 
 
 The sailor appeared relieved by this 
 question. 
 
 " 0, that is all right," said he. " I 
 got the bullion safe aboard the Shan- 
 non, marked for lead." 
 
 "And the lead on board the Pro- 
 serpine ^ " 
 
 " Ay, shipped as bullion." 
 
 " Without suspicion ? " 
 
 " Not quite." 
 
 " Great Heaven ! Wlio ? " 
 
 " One clerk at the shipping agent's 
 scented something; queer, I think. 
 James Seaton. That teas the name he 
 went ii/." 
 
 " Could he prove anything 1 " 
 
 " Nothing. He knew nothing for 
 certain ; and what he guessed won't 
 never be known in England now." 
 And Wylie fidgeted in his chair. 
 
 Notwithstanding this assurance 
 Wardlaw looked grave, and took a 
 note of that clerk's name. Then he 
 begged Wylie to go on. " Give me 
 all the details," said he. " Leave me 
 to judge their relative value. You 
 scuttled the ship 1 " 
 
 " Don't say that ! don't say that ! " 
 cried Wylie, in a low but eager voice. 
 " Stone walls have cars." Then 
 rather more loudly than was neces- 
 sary, " Ship sprung a leak, that nei- 
 ther the captain, nor I, nor anybody 
 could find, to stop. Me and my men, 
 we all think her seams opened, with
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 71 
 
 stress of weather." Then, lowering 
 his voice again, " Try and see it as 
 wc do ; and don't you ever use such a 
 word as tiiat what come out of your 
 hps just now. We pumped her hard ; 
 but 't warn't no use. She filled, and 
 we had to take to the boats." 
 
 " Stop a moment. Was, there any 
 suspicion excited ? " 
 
 " Not among the crew : and, sup- 
 pose there was, I could talk 'em all 
 over, or buy 'em all over, what few of 
 'em is left. I 've got 'em all with me 
 in one house : and they are all square, 
 don't you fear." 
 
 " Well, but you said ' among the 
 crew' ! Whom else can wc have to 
 fear 1 " 
 
 " Whj', nobody. To be sure, one 
 of the passengers was down on me ; 
 but what does that matter now ? " 
 
 " It matters greatly, — it matters 
 terribly. Who was this passenger ? " 
 
 " He called himself the Reverend 
 John Hazel. He suspected something 
 or other ; and what with listening 
 here, and watching there, he judged 
 the ship was never to see England, 
 and I always fancied he told the lady." 
 
 " What,"was there a lady there "? " 
 
 " Ay, worse luck, sir ; and a pretty 
 girl she was : coming home to Eng- 
 land to die of consumption; so our 
 surgeon told me." 
 
 " Well, never mind her. The 
 clergyman ! This fills me with anx- 
 iety. A clerk suspecting ns at Syd- 
 ney, and a passenger suspecting us in 
 the vessel. There are two witnesses 
 against us already." 
 
 " No ; only one." 
 
 " How do you make that out ? " 
 
 " Why, White's clerk and the par- 
 son, they was one man." 
 
 Wardlaw stared in utter amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 " Don't ye believe me ? " said 
 Wylie. "I tell ye that there clerk 
 boarded us under an alias. He 
 had shaved off' his beard ; but, bless 
 your heart, I knew him directly." 
 
 " He came to verify his suspi- 
 cions," suggested Wardlaw, in a faint 
 voice. 
 
 " Not he. He came for love of the 
 sick girl, and nothing else ; and 
 you '11 never see either him or her, if 
 that is any comfort to you." 
 
 " Be good enough to conceal noth- 
 ing. Facts must be faced." 
 
 " That is too true, sir. Well, we 
 abandoned her, and took to the boats. 
 I commanded one." 
 
 " And Hudson the other? " 
 
 "Hudson! No." 
 
 " Why, how was that 1 and what 
 has become of him ? " 
 
 " What has become of Hudson 1 " 
 said Wylie, with a start. "There's 
 a question ! And not a drop to wet 
 my lips, and warm my heart. Is this 
 a tale to tell dry 1 Can't ye spare a 
 drop of brandy to a poor devil that 
 has earned ye £ 150,000, and risked 
 his life, and wrecked his soul to do 
 it?" 
 
 Wardlaw cast a glance of con- 
 tempt on him, but got uj) and speed- 
 ily put a bottle of old brandy, a 
 tumbler, and a caraffe of water on 
 the table before him. 
 
 Wylie drank a wineglassful neat, 
 and gave a sortof sigh of satisfaction. 
 And then ensued a dialogue, in 
 which, curiously enough, the brave 
 man was agitated, and the timid man 
 was cool and collected. But one 
 reason was, the latter had not imagi- 
 nation enough to realize things un- 
 seen, though he had caused them. 
 
 Wylie told him how Hudson got 
 to the bottle, and would not leave 
 the ship. " I think I see him now, 
 with his cutlass in one hand, and his 
 rum bottle in the other, and the 
 waves running over his poor, silly 
 face, as she went down. Poor Hi- 
 ram ! he and I had made many a 
 trip together, before we took to 
 this." 
 
 And Wylie shuddered, and took 
 another gulp at the brandy. 
 
 While he was drinking to drown 
 the picture, Wardlaw was calmly re- 
 flecting on the bare fact. " Hum," 
 said he, "we must use that circum- 
 stance. I '11 get it into the journals. 
 Heroic captain. Went down with
 
 72 
 
 FOUL PLAY, 
 
 the ship. Who can suspect Hudson 
 in thelceth of such a fact ? Now pray 
 go on, iny j^ood VVylie. The boats ! " 
 
 " Well, sir, I had the surgeon, and 
 ten men, and the lady's maid, on 
 board the long-boat ; and there was 
 the parson, the sick lady, and five 
 sailors aboard the cutter. We sailed 
 together, till night, steering for Juan 
 Fernandez ; then a fog came on and 
 we lost siglit of the cutter, and I 
 altered my mind and judged it best 
 to beat to win'ard, and get into the 
 track of ships. Which we did, and 
 were nearly swamped in a sou'wester ; 
 but, by good luck, a Yankee whaler 
 picked us up, and took us to Buenos 
 Ayres, where we shipped for Eng- 
 land, what was left of us, only four, 
 besides myself; but I got the sig- 
 natures of the others to my talc of 
 the wreck. It is all as square as a 
 die, I tell you." 
 
 " Well done. Well done. But, 
 stop ! the other boat, with that sham 
 parson on board, who knows all. 
 She will be picked up, too, perhaps." 
 
 " There is no chance for that. She 
 was out of the tracks of trade ; and, 
 I'll tell ye the truth, sir." He 
 poured out half a tumbler of brandy, 
 and drank a part of it ; and, now, 
 for the iirst time, his hand trembled 
 as he lifted the glass. " Some fool 
 had put the main of her provisions 
 aboard the long-boat ; that is what 
 sticks to me, and won't let me sleep. 
 We took a chance, but we did n't 
 give one. I think I told you there 
 was a woman aboard the cutter, that 
 sick girl, sir. O, but it was hard 
 lines for lier, poor thing ! I see her 
 pale and cahn ; O Lord, so pale and 
 calm ; every' night of my life ; she 
 kneeled aboard the cutter with her 
 wliite hands a clasped together, pray- 
 ing." 
 
 " Certainly, it is all very shocking," 
 said Wardlaw ; "but then, you know, 
 if they had cscap''d, they would have 
 exposed us. Believe me, it is all for 
 the best." 
 
 Wylic looked at him with wonder. 
 " Ay," said he, after staring at him 
 
 in wonder ; " you can sit here at your 
 ease, and doom a ship and risk her 
 people's lives : but if you had to do 
 it, and see it, and then lie awake 
 thinking of it, you 'd wish all the gold 
 on earth had been in hell before you 
 put your hand to such a piece of 
 work." 
 
 Wardlaw smiled a ghastly smile. 
 "In short," said he, "you don't mean 
 to take the three thousand pounds I 
 pay you for this little job." 
 
 " O yes, I do ; but "for all the gold 
 in Victoria I would n't do such a job 
 again. And you mark ray words, 
 sir, we shall get the money, and no- 
 body will ever be the wiser." Ward- 
 law rubbed his hands complacently : 
 his egotism, coupled with his want of 
 imagination, nearly blinded him to 
 everything but the pecuniary feature 
 of the business. "But,", continued 
 Wylie, " we shall never thrive on it. 
 We have sunk a good ship, and we 
 have as good as murdered a poor dy- 
 ing girl." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, ye fool ! " 
 cried Wardlaw, losing his sang-froid 
 in a moment, for he heard somebody 
 at the door. 
 
 It opened, and there stood a mili- 
 tary figure in a travelling-cap, — Gen- 
 eral Rolleston. 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 As some eggs have actually two 
 yolks, so Arthur Wardlaw had two 
 liearts; and, at sight of Helen's father, 
 the baser one ceased to beat for a 
 while. 
 
 He ran to General Rollcston, shook 
 him warmly by the hand, and wel- 
 comed hiiu to England with sparkling 
 eyes. 
 
 It is pleasant to be so welcomed, 
 and tlic stately soldier returned his 
 grasp in kind. 
 
 "Is Helen with you, sir?" said 
 Wardlaw, making a movement to go 
 to the door : for he thought she must 
 be outside in the cab.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 73 
 
 " No, she is not," said General Rol- 
 leston. 
 
 " There, now," said Arthur, " that 
 cruel father of mine has broken his 
 promise, and carried her off to Elm- 
 trees ! " 
 
 At this moment "Wardlaw senior 
 returned, to tell Arthur he had been 
 just too late to meet the RoUestons. 
 " 0, here he is ! " said he ; and there 
 were fresh greetings. 
 
 " Well, but," said Arthur, " where 
 is Helen ! " 
 
 " I thinlv it is I who ought to ask 
 that question," said RoUeston, grave- 
 ly. " I telegraphed you at Elm-trees, 
 thinking of course she would come 
 with you to meet me at the station. 
 It docs not much matter, a few hours ; 
 hut her not coming makes me uneasy, 
 for her health was declining when she 
 left me. How is my child, Mr. Ward- 
 law 7 Pray tell me the truth." 
 
 Both the Wardlaws looked at one 
 another, and at General Rolleston, 
 and the elder Wardlaw said there 
 was certainly some misunderstanding 
 here. " We fully believed that your 
 daughter was coming home with you 
 in tlie Shannon." 
 
 " Come home with me ? Why, of 
 course not. She sailed three weeks 
 before me. Good Heavens I Has she 
 not arrived ? " 
 
 " No," replied old Wardlaw, " we 
 have neither seen nor heard of her." 
 
 " Why, what ship did she sail in 1 " 
 said Arthur. 
 
 " In the Proserpine." 
 
 CHAPTER XVn. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw fixed on the 
 speaker a gaze full of horror ; his jaw 
 fell ; a livid pallor spread over liis 
 features ; he echoed in a hoarse whis- 
 per, " The Proserpine ! " and turned 
 his scared eyes upon Wylie, who was 
 himself leaning against the wall, his 
 stalwart frame beginning to trem- 
 ble. 
 
 " The sick girl," murmured Wylie, 
 
 and a cold sweat gathered on his 
 brow. 
 
 General Rolleston looked from one 
 to another with strange misgivings, 
 which soon deepened into a sense of 
 some terrible calamity ; for now a 
 strong convulsion swelled Arthur 
 Wardlaw's heart ; his face worked 
 fearfully ; and, with a sharp and sud- 
 den cry, he fell forward on the table, 
 and his father's arm alone prevented 
 him from sinking like a dead man on 
 the floor. Yet, though crushed and 
 helpless, he was not insensible ; that 
 blessing was denied him. 
 
 General Rolleston implored an ex- 
 planation. 
 
 Wylie, with downcast and averted 
 face, began to stammer a few discon- 
 nected and unintelligible words ; but 
 old Wardlaw silenced him and said, 
 with much feeling, " Let none but a 
 father tell him. My poor, poor friend, 
 — The Proserpine ! How can I say 
 it ?" 
 
 " Lost at sea," groaned Wylie. 
 
 At these fatal words the old war- 
 rior's countenance grew rigid ; his 
 large, bony hands gripped the back 
 of the cliair on which he leaned, and 
 were white with their own convulsive 
 force ; and he bowed his head under 
 the blow, without one word. 
 
 His was an agony too great and 
 mute to be spoken to ; and there was 
 silence in the room, broken only by 
 the hj'sterical moans of the miserable 
 plotter, who had drawn down this 
 calamity on his own head. He was 
 in no state to be left alone ; and even 
 the bereaved father found pity in his 
 desolate heart for one who loved his 
 lost child so well ; and the two old 
 men took him home between them, in 
 a helpless and pitiable condition. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 But this utter prostration of his 
 confederate began to alarm Wylie, 
 and rouse him to exertion. Certainly, 
 he was very sorry for what he had
 
 74 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 done, and would have undone it and 
 forfeited liis £ 3,000 in a moment, 
 if lie could. But, as he could not 
 iindo the crime, he was all the more 
 determined to reap the reward. Why, 
 that £3,000, for aui;lit lie knew, was 
 the price of his soul ; and he was not 
 the man to let his soul go gratis. 
 
 He finished the rest of the brandy, 
 and went after his men, to Iceep them 
 true to him by promises ; l)ut tlie 
 next day he came to the office in 
 Fcnchurch Street, and asked anx- 
 iously for "Wardlaw. Wardlaw had 
 not arrived. He waited, but the mer- 
 chant never came ; and Miciiael told 
 him, witli considerable anxiety, that 
 this was the first time his young mas- 
 ter had missed coming this five years. 
 
 In course of the day, several under- 
 writers came in, with long faces, to 
 verify the report which had now 
 reached Lloyd's, that the Proserpine 
 had foundered at sea. 
 
 " It is too true," said Michael ; 
 " and poor Mr. Wylie here has barely 
 escaped with his life. He was mate of 
 the ship, gentlemen." 
 
 Upon tliis, each visitor questioned 
 Wylie, and Wylie returned the same 
 smooth answer to all inquiries : one 
 heavy gale after another had so tried 
 the ship that her seams had opened, 
 and let in more water than all the 
 exertions of the crew and passengers 
 could discharge ; at last, they had 
 taken to the boats ; the long-boat had 
 been picked up : the cutter had never 
 been heard of since. 
 
 They nearly all asked after the 
 ship's log. 
 
 " I iiave got it safe at home," said 
 he. It was in his pocket all the time. 
 
 Some asked him where the otlicr 
 survivors were. He told tliem five 
 had shipped on hoard the Maria, and 
 three were with him at Po])lar, one 
 disabled by the hardships they had all 
 endured. 
 
 One or two complained angrily of 
 Mr. Wardiaw's absence at such a time. 
 
 " Well, good gentlemen," said Wv- 
 lie, "I'll tell ye. Mr. Wardiaw's 
 sweetheart was aboard the ship. He 
 
 is a'most broken-hearted. He vallied 
 her more tiian all the gold, that you 
 may take your oath on." 
 
 This stroke, coming from a rough 
 fellow in a pea-jacket, who looked as 
 simi)le as he was cunning, silenced 
 remonstrance, and went far to disarm 
 suspicion; and so pleased Michael 
 Tenfold, that he said, " Mr. Wylie, 
 you are interested in this business, 
 would you mind going to Mr. Ward- 
 law's house, and asking what we are 
 to do next? I '11 give you his ad- 
 dress, and a line, begging him to make 
 an effort and see you. Business is 
 the heart's best ointment. Eh, dear 
 Mr. Wylie, I have known grief too ; 
 and I think I should have gone mad 
 when they sent ni}- poor son away, 
 but for business, especially the sum- 
 ming up of long columns, &c." 
 
 Wj'lic called at the house in Rus- 
 sell Square, and asked to see 2>lr. 
 Wardlaw. 
 
 The servant shook his head. " You 
 can't see him ; he is verv ill." 
 
 " Very ill ? " said Wylie. " I 'm 
 sorry fin* that. Well, but I sha' n't 
 make him any worse ; and Mr. Pen- 
 fold says I must see him. It is very 
 particular, I tell you. He won't 
 thank you for refusing me, when he 
 comes to hear of it." 
 
 He said this very seriously ; and 
 the servant, after a short hesitation, 
 begged him to sit down in the passage 
 a moment. He then went into the 
 dining-room, and shortly reappeared, 
 holding the door open. Out came, 
 not Wardlaw junior, but Wardlaw 
 senior. 
 
 " My son is in no condition to re- 
 ceive you," said he, gravely ; " but I 
 am at your service. What is your 
 business 1 " 
 
 Wylie was taken oft' his guard, and 
 stammered out something about the 
 Shannon. 
 
 " The Shannon ! What have you 
 to do with her ? You belong to the 
 Proserpine." 
 
 " Ay, sir ; but I had his orders to 
 ship forty chests of lead and smelted 
 copper on board the Shannon."
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 75 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " Ye see, sir," said "Wylie, " Mr. 
 "Wardlaw was particular about them, 
 and I feel responsible like, having 
 shipped them aboard another vessel." 
 
 " Have you not the captain's re- 
 ceipt ? " 
 
 " That I have, sir, at home. But 
 you could hardly read it for salt 
 water." 
 
 " ^Yell," said Wardlaw senior, " I 
 will direct our agent at Liverpool to 
 look after them, and send them up at 
 once to my cellars in Fenchurch 
 Street. Forty chests of lead and 
 copper, I think you said." And he 
 took a note of this directly. Wylie 
 was not a little discomfited at this im- 
 expected turn thin^-s had taken ; but he 
 held his tongue now, for fear of mak- 
 ing bad worse. Waidlaw senior went 
 on to say that he should have to con- 
 duct the business of the firm for a 
 time, in spite of his old ag^ and fail- 
 ing health. 
 
 This announcement made Wylie 
 perspire with anxiety, and his tliree 
 thousand pounds seemed to melt away 
 from liim. 
 
 " But never mind," said old Ward- 
 law ; " I am very glad you came. In 
 fact, you are the very man I wanted 
 to see. My poor atflicted friend has 
 asked after you several times. Be 
 good enough to follow me." 
 
 He led the way into the dining- 
 room, and there sat the sad father in 
 all the quiet dignity of calm, un- 
 fathomable sorrow. 
 
 Another gentleman stood vipon the 
 rug with his back to the fire, waiting 
 for Mr. Wardlaw ; this was the family 
 physician, who had just come down 
 from Arthur's bedroom, and had en- 
 tered by another door through the 
 drawing-room. 
 
 "Well, doctor," said Wardlaw, 
 anxiously, " what is your report ■? " 
 
 " Not so good as 1 could wish ; but 
 nothing to excite immediate alarm. 
 Overtaxed brain, sir, weakened and 
 unable to support tliis calamity. How- 
 ever, wc have reduced the fever ; the 
 symptoms of delirium have been 
 
 checked, and I think we shall escape 
 brain fever if he is kept quiet. I 
 could not have said as much this 
 morning." 
 
 Tlie doctor then took his leave, with 
 a promise to call next morning ; 
 and, as soon as lie was gone, Wardhiv/ 
 turned to General Kolleston, and said, 
 " Here is Wylie, sir. Come forward, 
 my man, and speak to the General. 
 He wants to know if you can point 
 out to him on the chart the very spot 
 where the Proserpine was lost ? " 
 
 " Well, sir," said Wylie, " I think 
 I could." 
 
 The great chart of the Pacific was 
 then spread out upon the table, and 
 rarely has a chart been examined as 
 this was, with the bleeding heart as 
 well as the straining eye. 
 
 The rough sailor became an oracle ; 
 the others hung upon his words, and 
 followed his brown finger on the chart 
 with fearful interest. 
 
 " Ye see, sir," said he, addressing 
 the old merchant, for there was some- 
 thing on his mind that made him 
 avoid speaking directly to General 
 Rolleston, " when we came out of 
 Sydney, the wind being south and by 
 west, Hudson took the northerly course 
 instead of running through Cook's 
 Straits. The weather freshened from 
 the same quarter, so that, with one 
 thing and another, by when we were a 
 month out, she was live hundred miles 
 or so nor'ard of her true course. But 
 that was n't all ; when the leak gained 
 on us, Hudson ran the ship three hun- 
 dred miles by my reckoning to the 
 nor'east ; and, I remember, the day 
 before she foundered, he told me she 
 was in latitude forty, and Easter Island 
 bearing due north." 
 
 " Here is the spot, then," said Gen- 
 eral Rolleston, and placed his finger 
 on the spot. 
 
 " Ay, sir," said Wylie, addressing 
 the merchant ; " but she ran about 
 eighty-five miles after that, on a north- 
 erly' course — no — wind on her star- 
 board quarter, — and, being deep in 
 the water, she 'd make lee way, — say 
 eighty-two miles, nor'east by east."
 
 7G 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 The General took eighty-two miles 
 off the scale, with ti pair of dividers, 
 and set out that distaiu-e on the chart, 
 lie held tlie instrument fixed on the 
 point thus obtained. 
 
 Wylie eyed tlie point, and, after a 
 moment's consideration, nodded his 
 head. 
 
 " There, or therealiouts," lie said, in 
 a low voice, and looking at the mer- 
 chant. 
 
 A pause ensued, and the two old 
 men examined the speck pricked on 
 the map, as if it were the waters cov- 
 ering tlie Proserpine. 
 
 " Now, sir," said Rolleston, " trace 
 the course of the boats " ; and he 
 handed Wylie a pencil. 
 
 The sailor slowly averted his head, 
 but stretched out his hand and took 
 it, and traced two lines, the one short 
 and straight, running nearly north- 
 east. " That 's the way the cutter 
 headed when we lost her in the 
 night." 
 
 The other line ran parallel to the 
 first for half an inch, then, turning, 
 bent backwards and ran due south. 
 
 " This was our course," said Wy- 
 lie. 
 
 General Rolleston looked up, and 
 said, " Why did you desert the cut- 
 ter 1 " 
 
 The mate looked at old Wardlaw, 
 and, after some hesitation, replied : 
 "After we lost sight of her, the men 
 "with me declared that we could not 
 reach either Juan Fernandez or Val- 
 paraiso with our stock of provisions, 
 and insisted on standing for tlie sea- 
 track of Australian liners between the 
 Horn and Sydney." 
 
 This explanation was received in 
 dead silence. Wylie fidgeted, and his 
 eye wandered round the room. 
 
 General Rolleston applied his com- 
 passes to the chart. " I hnd that the 
 Proserpine was not one thousand 
 miles from Easter Island. Why did 
 you not make for that land ? " 
 
 " We had no charts, sir," said 
 Wylie to the merchant, " and I 'm no 
 navigator." 
 
 " I see no land laid down hereaway, 
 
 northeast of the spot where the ship 
 went down." 
 
 " No," replied Wylie, " that's what 
 the men said when they made me 'bout 
 ship." 
 
 " Then why did you lead the way 
 northeast at all ? " 
 
 " I 'm no navigator," answered the 
 man, sullenly. 
 
 He then suddenly stammered out : 
 "Ask my men what «-ewent through. 
 Why, sir" (to Wardlaw), "lean 
 hardly believe that I am alive, and sit 
 here talking to you about this cursed 
 business. And nobody offers me a 
 drop of anything." 
 
 Wardlaw ]ioured him out a tumbler 
 of wine. His brown hand trembled a 
 little, and he gulped the wine down 
 like water. 
 
 General Rolleston gave Mr. Ward- 
 law a look, and Wylie was dismissed. 
 He slouched down the street all in a 
 cold perspiration; but still clinging to 
 his tlirce thousand pounds, though 
 small was now his hope of ever seeing 
 it. 
 
 When he was gone General Rolles- 
 ton paced that large and gloomy room 
 in silence.. Wardlaw eyed him with 
 the greatest interest, but avoided 
 speaking to him. At last he stopped 
 short, and stood erect, as veterans 
 halt, and pointed down at the chart. 
 
 " I '11 start at once for that spot," 
 said he. "I'll go in the next ship 
 bound to Valparaiso, there I '11 char- 
 ter a small vessel, and ransack those 
 waters for some trace of my poor losl 
 girl" 
 
 " Can you think of no better way 
 than that ? " said old Wardlaw, gen- 
 tly, and with a slight tone of re- 
 proach. 
 
 "No, — not at this moment. O 
 yes, by the by, the Greyhound and 
 Dreadnaught are going out to survey 
 the islands of the Pacilic. 1 have 
 interest enough to get a berth in the 
 Greyhound." 
 
 " What ! go in a government ship ! 
 under the orders of a man, under the 
 orders of another man, under the or- 
 ders of a Board. Why, if you heard
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 77 
 
 our poor girl was alive tipon a rock, 
 the 13readnauKlit would be sure to 
 ran up a bunch of red-tape to the 
 fore that moment to recall the Grey- 
 hound, and the Greyhound would ^o 
 back. No," said he, rising suddenly, 
 and confronting the General, and 
 witli the color mounting for once in 
 his sallow face, " you sail in no bot- 
 tom but one freighted by Wardlaw 
 and Son, and the captain shall be 
 under no orders but yours. We have 
 bouglit the steam-sloop Springbok, 
 seven hundred tons. I'll victual her 
 for a year, man her well, and you 
 shall go out in her in less than a 
 week. I give you my hand on 
 that." 
 
 They grasped hands. 
 
 But this sudden warmth and ten- 
 derness, coming from a man habitu- 
 ally cold, overpowered the stout 
 General. " What, sir," he faltered ; 
 " your own son lies in danger, yet 
 your heart goes so with me, — such 
 goodness, — it is too much for me." 
 
 " No, no," faltered the merchant, 
 affected in his turn ; " it is nothing. 
 Your poor girl was coming home in 
 that cursed ship to marry my son. 
 Yes, he lies ill for love of her ; God 
 help him and me too; but you most 
 of all. Don't, General ; doii't ! We 
 have got work to do ; we must be 
 brave, sir ; brave I say, and compose 
 ourselves. Ah, my friend, you and I 
 are of one age ; and this is a heavy 
 blow for us : and we are friends no 
 more ; it has made us brothers : she 
 was to be my child as well as yours ; 
 well, now she is my child, and our 
 hearts they bleed together." At this, 
 the truth must be told, the two stout 
 old men embraced one another like 
 two women, and cried together a 
 little. 
 
 But that was soon over with such 
 men as these. They sat together 
 and plunged into the details of the 
 expeilition, and they talked themselves 
 into hope. 
 
 In a week the Springbok steamed 
 down the Channel on an errand in- 
 
 spired by love, not reason ; to cross 
 one mighty ocean, and grope Ibr a 
 lost daujibter in another. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 We return to the cutter and her 
 living freis;ht. 
 
 After an anxious but brief consul- 
 tation, it was agreed that their best 
 chance was to traverse as many miles 
 of water as possible, while the wind 
 was fair ; by this means they would 
 increase their small chance of being 
 picked up, and also of falling in with 
 land, and would, at all events, sail 
 into a lovely climate, where intense 
 cold was unknown, and gales of wind 
 uncommon. Mr. Hazel advised them 
 to choose a skipper, and give him 
 absolute power, especially over the 
 provisions. They assented to this. 
 He tlien recommended Cooper for 
 that post. But they had not fathomed 
 the sterling virtues of that taciturn 
 seaman ; so they offered the command 
 to Welch, instead. 
 
 " Me put myself over Sam Cooper ! " 
 said he ; " not likely." 
 
 Then their choice fell upon Michael 
 Morgan. The other sailors' names 
 were Prince, Fenner, and Mackintosh. 
 
 Mr. Hazel urged Morgan to put the 
 crew and passengers on short allow- 
 ance at once, viz. two biscuits a day, 
 and four table-spoonfuls of water: but 
 Morgan was a common sailor ; he 
 could not see clearly very far ahead ; 
 and, moreover, his own appetite coun- 
 teracted this advice ; he dealt out a 
 pound of biscuit and an ounce of ham 
 to each person, night and morning, 
 and a pint of water in course of the 
 day. 
 
 Mr. Hazel declined his share of the 
 ham, and bciraed Miss Rolleston so 
 earnestly not to touch it, that she 
 yielded a silent compliance. 
 
 On the fourth day the sailors were 
 all in good spirits, though the provis- 
 ions were now very low. They even 
 sang, and spun yarns. This was part-
 
 73 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Ij owing to the benuty of the weath- 
 er. 
 
 On the fiftli (lay Morgan announced 
 that he could only serve out one bis- 
 cuit per day : and this sudden decline 
 caused some dissatisfaction and alarm. 
 
 Next day, the water ran so low, 
 that only a teaspoonful was served out 
 niglit and morning. 
 
 There were murmurs and forebod- 
 ings. 
 
 In all heavy trials and extremi- 
 ties some man or other reveals great 
 qualities, that were latent in him, ay, 
 hidden from himself. And this gen- 
 eral observation was verified on the 
 f resent occasion, as it had been in the 
 ndian mutiny, and many other crises. 
 Hazel came out. 
 
 He encouraged the men, out of his 
 multifarious stores of learning. He 
 related at length stories of wrecks and 
 sufferings at sea ; which, though they 
 had long been in print, were most of 
 them new to these poor fellows. He 
 told them, among the rest, what the 
 men of the Bona Dea, waterlogged at 
 sea, liad suffered, — twelve days with- 
 out any food but a rat and a kitten, — 
 yet had all survived. He gave them 
 some details of tlie Wager, tlic Grosve- 
 nor,the Corbin,tho Medusa ; but, above 
 all, a most minute account of the 
 Bounty, and Bligh's wonderful voy- 
 age in an open boat, short of pro- 
 visions. He moralized on this, and 
 showed his fellow-sufferers it was dis- 
 cipline and self-denial from the first 
 that had enabled those hungry spec- 
 tres to survive, and to traverse two 
 thousand eight hundred miles of water, 
 in those very seas ; and that in spite 
 of hunger, thirst, disease, and rough 
 weather. 
 
 By these means lie diverted their 
 minds in some degree from their own 
 calamity, and taught them the lesson 
 they most needed. 
 
 The poor fellows listened with more 
 inteicst than you could have thought 
 possible under the pressure of l)odily 
 distress. And Helen Kollestoii's ha- 
 zel eye dwelled on the narrator with 
 unceasing wonder. 
 
 Yes, learning and fortitude, strength- 
 ened by those great examples learning 
 furnishes, maintained a superiority, 
 even in the mi(klle of the Pacihc ; and 
 not the rough sailors only, Imt tiie lady 
 who had rejected and scorned his love, 
 hung upon the brave student's words : 
 she was compelled to look up, with 
 wonder, to the man she liad hated and 
 despised in her hours of case. 
 
 On the sixth day the provisions 
 failed entirely. Not a crust of bread : 
 not a drop of water. 
 
 At 4 p. M. several flying-fish, driven 
 into the air by the dolpiiins and cat- 
 fish, fell into the sea again near the 
 boat, and one struck the sail sharply, 
 and fell into the boat. It was divided, 
 and devoured raw, in a moment. 
 
 The next morning the wind fell, 
 and, by noon, the ocean became like 
 glass. 
 
 The horrors of a storm have been 
 often painted ; but who has described, 
 or can describe, the horrors of a calm, 
 to a boat-load of hungry, thirsty crea- 
 tures, whose only chances of salvation 
 or relief are wind and rain 1 
 
 The beautiful, remorseless sky was 
 one vault of purple, with a great 
 flaming jewel in the centre, whose 
 vertical rays struck, and parched, and 
 scorched the living sufferers ; and 
 blistered and baked the boat itself, so 
 that it hurt their hot hands to touch 
 it : the beautiful, remorseless ocean 
 was one sheet of glass, that glared in 
 their bloodshot eyes, and reflected 
 the intolerable heat of heaven upon 
 these poor wretches, who were gnawed 
 to death with hunger ; and their rag- 
 ing thirst was fiercer still. 
 
 Towards afternoon of the eighth 
 day, Mackintosh dipped a vessel in 
 the sea, with the manifest intention of 
 drinking the salt water. 
 
 " Stop him ! " cried Hazel, in great 
 agitation ; and the others seized him, 
 and ovei-powered him : he cursed 
 tliem with such horrible curses, that 
 Miss liolleston put her fingers in her 
 cars, and shuddered from head to foot. 
 Even this was new to her, to hear 
 foul language.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 79 
 
 A calm voice rose in the midst, and 
 said : " Let us pray." 
 
 Tlicre was a dead silence, and Mr. 
 Hazel kneeled down and prayed loud 
 and fervently; and, while he prayed, 
 the furious cries subsided for a while, 
 and deep groans only were heard. 
 He prayed lor food, for rain, for wind, 
 for Patience. 
 
 The men were not so far gone but 
 they could just manage to say 
 " Amen." 
 
 He rose from his knees, and gath- 
 ered the pale faces of the men to- 
 gether in one glance; and saw that 
 intense expression of agony wliich 
 physical pain can mould with men's 
 features : and then he strained iiis 
 eyes over the brassy horizon ; but no 
 cloud, no veil of vapor was visible. 
 
 " Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to 
 driuk."' 
 
 " We must be mad," he cried, " to 
 die of thirst with all this water roimd 
 us." 
 
 His invention being stimulated by 
 this idea, and his own dire need, he 
 eagerly scanned everything in the 
 boat, and his eyes soon lighted on 
 two objects disconnected in them- 
 selves, but it struck him he could use 
 them in combination. These were a 
 common glass bottle, and Miss Rol- 
 leston's life-preserving jacket, that 
 served her for a couch. He drew this 
 garment over his knees, and con- 
 sidered it attentively ; then untwisted 
 the brass nozzle through wiiich the 
 jacket was inflated, and so left a tube, 
 some nine inches in length, hanging 
 down from the neck of the garment. 
 
 He now applied his breath to the 
 tube, and the jacket swelling rapidly 
 proved that the whole receptacle was 
 air-tight. 
 
 He then allowed the air to escape. 
 Next, he took the botile and filled it 
 with water from the sea ; then he in- 
 serted, with some difficulty, and great 
 care, the neck of the bottle into the 
 orifice of the tube : tliis done, he de- 
 tached the wire of the bniss nozzle, 
 and whipped the tube firmly round 
 the neck of the bottle. 
 
 " Now, light a fire," he cried ; " no 
 matter what it costs." 
 
 The foie thwart was chopped up, 
 and a fire soon spluttered and sparkled, 
 for ten eager hands were feeding it : 
 the bottle was then suspended over it, 
 and, in due course, the salt water 
 boiled and threw off vapor, and the 
 belly of the jacket began to heave and 
 stir. Hazel then threw cold water 
 upon the outside, to keep it cool, and, 
 while the men eagerly watched the 
 bubbling bottle and swelling bag, his 
 spirits rose, and he took occasion to 
 explain that what was now going on 
 under their eyes was, after all, only 
 one of the great processes of Nature, 
 done upon a small scale. " The 
 clouds," said he, "are but vapors 
 drawn from the s^a, by the heat of 
 the sun : tiiese clouds are composed 
 of fresli water, and so the steam we 
 are now raising from salt water will 
 be fresh. We can't make whiskey, or 
 brew beer, lads ; but, thank Heaven, 
 we can brew water ; and it is worth 
 all other liquors ten times told." 
 
 A wild "Hurrah!" greeted these 
 words. 
 
 But every novel experiment seems 
 doomed to fail, or meet with some 
 disaster. The water in the bottle had 
 been reduced too low, by vaporism, 
 and the bottle burst suddenly, with a 
 loud report. That report was fol- 
 lowed by a piteous wail. 
 
 Hazel turned pale at this fatal 
 blow : hut, recovering himself, he 
 said, " That is unfortunate ; but it 
 was a good servant while it lasted : 
 give me the baler; and. Miss Rol- 
 leston, can you lend me a thim- 
 ble 1 " 
 
 The tube of the life-preserver was 
 held over the baler, and out trickled a 
 small quantity of pure water, two 
 thiinblefuls apiece. Even that, as it 
 passed over their swelling tongues and 
 parched swallows, was a heavenly 
 relief: but, alas, the supply was then 
 exhausted. 
 
 Next day hunger seemed uppermost, 
 and the men gnawed and chewed their 
 tobacco-pouches : and two caps, that
 
 80 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 had been dressed with the hair on, 
 were divided for food. 
 
 JNone was given to Mr. Hazel or 
 Miss Kolieston ; and this, to do the 
 poor creatures justice, was the first 
 instance of injustice or partiality the 
 sailors had !<lio\vii. 
 
 Tlie lady, though tormented with 
 hunger, was more magnanimous ; sjie 
 offered to divide the contents of her 
 little medicine chest ; and the globules 
 were all devoured in a moment. 
 
 And now their tortures were aggra- 
 vated by the sight of abundance. 
 They drifted over coral rocks, at a 
 considerable depth, but the water was 
 so exquisitely clear tliat they sa\\ five 
 fathoms down. They discerned small 
 fish drifting over the bottom ; they 
 looked like a driving cloud, so vas"t 
 was their number ; and every now 
 and then there was a scurry among 
 them, and porpoises and dog-fish 
 broke in and feasted on them. All 
 this they saw, yet could not catch 
 one of those billions for their lives. 
 Thus they were tantalized as well as 
 starved. 
 
 The next day was like the last, with 
 this difference, that the sufferers could 
 no longer endure their torments in 
 silence. 
 
 The lady moaned constantly : the 
 sailors groaned, lamented, and cursed. 
 
 The sun baked and blistered, and 
 the water glared. 
 
 The sails being useless, the sailors 
 rigged them as an awning, and salt 
 water was constantly thrown over 
 them. 
 
 Mr. Hazel took a baler and drenched 
 his own clothes and Miss Rolleston's 
 upon their bodies. This relieved the 
 hell of thirst in some degree : but the 
 sailors could not be persuaded to prac- 
 tise it. 
 
 In the afternoon Hazel took Miss 
 Rolleston's Bible from her wasted 
 hands, and read aloud the fortv-second 
 Psalm. 
 
 "When he had done, one of the 
 sailors asked him to pass the ]51ble 
 forward. Ho did so ; and in half an 
 hour the leaves were returned him; 
 
 the vellum binding had been cut off, 
 divided, and eaten. 
 
 He looked piteously at the leaves, 
 and, after a while, fell upon his knees 
 and prayed silently. 
 
 He rose, and, with Miss Rolleston's 
 consent, offered the men the leaves as 
 well. " It is the Bread of Life for 
 men's souls, not their bodies," said 
 he. " But God is merciful ; I think 
 he will forgive you ; for your need is 
 bitter." 
 
 Cooper replied that the binding 
 was man's, but the pages were God's ; 
 and, either for this or another more 
 obvious reason, the leaves were de- 
 clined for food. 
 
 All that afternoon Hazel was mak- 
 ing a sort of rough spoon out of a 
 fragment of wood. 
 
 The night that followed was darker 
 than usual, and, about midnight, a 
 hand was laid on Helen Rolleston's 
 shoulder, and a voice whispered, 
 "Hush! say nothing. I have got 
 something for you." 
 
 At the same time, something sweet 
 and deliciously fragiant was put to 
 her lips ; she opened her mouth, and 
 received a spoonful of maimalade. 
 Never did marmalade taste like tliat 
 before. It dissolved itself like Am- 
 brosia over her palate, and even re- 
 lieved her parched throat in some 
 slight degree by the saliva it excited. 
 
 Nature could not be resisted ; her 
 body took whatever he gave. But 
 her high mind rebelled. 
 
 " O how base I am," said she, and 
 wept. 
 
 " Why, it is your own," said he, 
 soothingly; "I took it out of your 
 cabin expressly for you." 
 
 "At least oblige me b}' eating 
 some yourself, sir," said Helen, "or" 
 (with a sudden burst) " 1 will die ere I 
 touch another morsel." 
 
 " I feel the threat. Miss RoUeston ; 
 but I do not need it, for I am very, 
 very hungry. But no ; if / take any, 
 I must divide it all with them. But 
 if you Avill help me unrip the jacket, I 
 will suck the inside — after you." 
 Helen gazed at him, and wondered
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 81 
 
 at the man, and at the strange love 
 ^vhich had so bitterl_y offended her 
 when slie was surrounded by com- 
 forts ; but now it extorted her re- 
 spect. 
 
 They unripped tlie jacket, and 
 found some moisture left. They 
 sucked it, and it was a wonderful, 
 and incredible relief to their parched 
 gullets. 
 
 The next day was a fearful one. 
 Not a cloud in the sky to give hope 
 of rain ; the air so light, it only 
 just moved them along ; and the sea 
 glared, and the sun beat on tlie poor 
 wretches, now tortured into madness 
 with hunger and thirst. 
 
 The body of man, in this dire ex- 
 tremity, can suffer internal agony as 
 acute as any that can be inflicted on 
 its surface by the knife ; and the 
 cries, the screams, the groans, the 
 prayers, the curses, intermingled, that 
 issued from the boat, were not to be 
 distinguished from the cries of men 
 horribly wounded in battle, or writh- 
 ing under some terrible operation in 
 hospitals. 
 
 0, it was terrible and piteous to see 
 and hear the boat-load of ghastly vic- 
 tims, with hollow cheeks, and wild- 
 beast eyes, go groaning, cursing, and 
 shrieking loud, upon that fair glassy 
 sea, below that purple vault and 
 glorious sun. 
 
 Towards afternoon, tlie sailors got 
 together, forward, and left Hazel and 
 Miss KoUeston alone in the stern. 
 This gave him an opportunity of 
 speaking to her confidentially. He 
 took advantage of it, and said, " Miss 
 Eollcston, I wish to consult you. 
 Am I justified in secreting the mar- 
 malade any longer 1 There is nearly 
 a spoonful apiece." 
 
 "No," said Helen, "divide it 
 amongst them all. 0, if I had only 
 a woman beside me, to pray with, and 
 cry with, and die with : for die we 
 must." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that," said 
 
 Hazel, faintly, but with a cool fortitude 
 
 all his own. " Experience proves 
 
 that the human body can subsist a 
 
 6 
 
 prodigious time on very little food: 
 and saturating the clothes with water 
 is, I know, the best way to allay thirst. 
 And women, thank Heaven, last 
 longer than men, under privations." 
 
 " I shall not last long, sir," said 
 Helen. " Look at their eyes." 
 
 " What do you mean 1 " 
 
 " I mean that those men there are 
 goinji to kill me." 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Hazel thought her reason was 
 going; and, instead of looking at the 
 men's eyes, it was hers he examined. 
 But no ; the sweet cheek was white, 
 the eyes had a fearful hollow all round 
 them, but, out of that cave, the light 
 hazel eye, preternaturally large, but 
 calm as ever, looked out, full of forti- 
 tude, resignation, and reason. 
 
 " Don't look at me," said she, quiet- 
 ly ; " but take an opportunity and 
 look at t/iejii. They mean to kill 
 me." 
 
 Hazel looked furtively round ; and, 
 being enlightened in part by the 
 w^onian's intelligence, he observed 
 that some of the men were actually 
 glaring at himself and Helen Rolles- 
 ton, in a dreadful way. There was a 
 remarkable change in their eyes since 
 he looked last. The pupils seemed 
 diminished, the whites enlarged ; and, 
 in a word, the characteristics of hu- 
 manity had, somehow, died out of those 
 bloodshot orbs, and the animal alone 
 shone in them now ; the wild beast, 
 driven desperate by hunger. 
 
 What he saw, coupled with Helen's 
 positive interpretation of it, was truly 
 sickening. 
 
 These men were six, and he but 
 one. They had all clasp-knives ; and 
 he had only an old penknife that 
 would be sure to double up, or break 
 off, if a blow were dealt with it. 
 
 He asked himself, in utter terror, 
 what on earth he should do. 
 
 The first thing seemed to be to join 
 the men, and learn their minds : it
 
 82 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 mii;ht also be as well to pvcvcnt this 
 secret fonfercuce from froiiij^- further. 
 
 lie went forward IjoUII}-, ihoiigli siek 
 at heart, and said, " Well, my lads, 
 what is it ? " 
 
 The men were silent directly, and 
 looked sullenly down, avoiding his 
 eye ; yet not ashamed. 
 
 In a situation so terrible, the senses 
 are sharpened ; and Hazel dissected, in 
 his mind, this sinister look, and saw 
 that IMorpan, Prince, and Mackintosh 
 were hostile to him. 
 
 But Welch and Cooper he hoped 
 were still friendly. 
 
 " Sir," said Fcnner, civilly but 
 doggedly, " we are come to this now, 
 that one must die, for the others to 
 live : and the greater part of ns arc 
 for casting lots all round, and let 
 every man, and every woman too, 
 take their chance. That is fair, Sam, 
 is n't it?" 
 
 "It is fair," said Cooper, with a 
 terrible doggedncss. " But it is hard," 
 he added. 
 
 " Harder that seven should die for 
 one," said Mackintosh. "No, no; 
 one must die for the seven." 
 
 Hazel represented, with all the force 
 language possesses, that what they 
 meditated was a crime, the fatal re- 
 sult of which was known by experi- 
 ence. 
 
 But they heard in ominous silence. 
 
 Hazel went back to Helen Rolles- 
 ton, and sat down right before her. 
 
 "Well!" said she, with supernat- 
 ural calmness. 
 
 " You were mistaken," said he. 
 
 " Then why have you placed your- 
 self between them and me. No, no ; 
 their eyes have told me they have 
 singled me out. But what does it 
 matter f We poor creatures are all 
 to die ; and that one is the hap])iest 
 that dies first, and dies unstained by 
 such a crime. 1 heard every word you 
 snUI, sir." 
 
 Hazel cast a piteous look on her, 
 and, liiiding he could no longer de- 
 ceive her as to their danger, and be- 
 ing weakened by famine, fell to trem- 
 bling and crying. 
 
 Helen Rolleston looked at him with 
 calm and gentle pity. For a moment, 
 the patient fortitude of a woman made 
 her a brave man's sujicrior. 
 
 Night came, and, lor the first time. 
 Hazel claimed two portions of the 
 rum ; one for himself and cue for 
 Miss Rolleston. 
 
 He then returned aft, and took the 
 helm. He loosened it, so as to be 
 ready to unship it in a moment, and 
 use it as a weapon. 
 
 The men huchlled together forward ; 
 and it was easy to see that the boat was 
 now divided into two hostile camps. 
 
 Hazel sat (juaking, with his hand 
 on the helm, fearing an attack every 
 moment. 
 
 Both he and Helen listened acutely, 
 and about three o'clock in the morn- 
 ing a new incident occurred, of a ter- 
 rible nature. 
 
 Mackintosh was heard to say, 
 " Serve out the rum, no allowance," 
 and the demand was instantly com- 
 plied with by Morgan. 
 
 Then Hazel touched Miss Eolles- 
 ton on the shoulder, and insisted on 
 her taking half what was left of the 
 marmalade, and he took the other 
 half. The time was gone by for econ- 
 omy ; what they wanted now was 
 strength, in ease the wild beasts, mad- 
 dened by drink as well as hunger, 
 should attack them. 
 
 Already the licpior had begun to 
 tell, and wild hallos and yells, and 
 even fragments of ghastly songs min- 
 gled with the groans of misery, in the 
 doomed boat. 
 
 At sunrise there was a great swell 
 upon the water, and sharp gusts at 
 intervals ; and on the horizon, to 
 windward, might be observed a black 
 s]M)t in the sky, no higi^cr tliaii a (ly. 
 But none saw that ; IlMzel's eye never 
 left the raving wretches in the fore- 
 part of the boat ; Cooper and AVelch 
 sat in gloomy despair amidships ; and 
 the others were iiuddled together for- 
 ward, encouraging each other to a 
 desperate act. 
 
 It was about eight o'clock in the 
 morning Helen Roilcston awoke from
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 83 
 
 a brief doze, tind said, " Mr. Hazel, I 
 have had a straii^^e dream. I dreamed 
 there was food, and plenty of it, on 
 the outside of this boat." 
 
 Wiiile tliese siraii;^e words were yet 
 in her mouth, three of the sailors sud- 
 denly rose up wiiii their knives 
 drawn, and eyes full of murder, and 
 sta.ugcied aft as fast as their enfeebled 
 bodies could. 
 
 Hazel uttered a loud cry, " Welch ! 
 Cooper ! will you see us butchered ? " 
 and, unshippinj,^ the helm, rose to his 
 feet. 
 
 Cooper put out his arm to stop 
 Mackintosh, but was too late. He 
 did stop Morgan, however, and said, 
 " Conic, none of that ; no foul play ! " 
 
 Irritatctl by this unexpected resist- 
 ance, and maddened by driidv, Mor- 
 gan turned on Cooper and stal)bcd 
 him ; ho saidc down with a >iroan ; 
 on this Welch gave Morgan a fearful 
 gash, dividing his jugidar, and was 
 stabbed, in return, by rrincc, but not 
 severely : these two grappled and 
 rolled over one another, stabl)ing and 
 cursing at the bottom of the boat; 
 meantime. Mackintosh was received 
 by Hazel witii a point-blank thrust in 
 the face from the iiclm, that staggered 
 him, though a very powerful man, 
 and drove him backwards against the 
 mast; but, in delivering this thrust, 
 Hazel's foot slipjied, and he fell with 
 great violence on his head and arm ; 
 Mackintosh recovered himself, and 
 sprang u])on the stern thwart with 
 his knife up and gleaming over Helen 
 Rolleston. Hazel writlied round 
 where he lay, and struck him desper- 
 ately on the knee with the helm. 
 The poor woman knew only how to 
 suffer; she cowered a little, and put 
 up two feeble hands. 
 
 The knife descended. 
 
 But not upon that cowering figure. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A PURPLE ripi)ling line upon the 
 water had for some little time been 
 
 coming down upon them witli great ra- 
 pidity; but, bent on bloody work, they 
 iiad not observed it. The boat heeled 
 over under the sudden gust ; but the 
 rullian had already lost his footing 
 under Hazel's blow, and, the boom 
 striking liim almost at the same mo- 
 ment, he went clean over the gunwale 
 into the sea ; he struck it with his 
 knife first. 
 
 All their lives were now gone if 
 Cooper, who had already recovered 
 his feet, had not immediately cut the 
 sheet with his knife ; there was no 
 time to slack it; and, even as it was, 
 the lower part of the sail was drenched, 
 and the boat full of water. " Ship 
 the helm ! " he roared. 
 
 The boat righted directly the sheet 
 was cut, the wet sail fiappcd furiously, 
 and the boat having way on her yield- 
 ed to the helm and wriggled slowly 
 away before the whistling wind. 
 
 Mackintosh rose a few yards 
 astern, and swam after the boat, with 
 great glaring eyes ; the loose sail 
 was not drawing, but the wind moved 
 tlie boat onward. However, Mackin- 
 tosh gained slowly, and Hazel held 
 up an oar like a sjjcar, and shouted 
 to him that he must promise solemnly 
 to forego all violence, or he should 
 never come on board alive. 
 
 Mackintosh opened his mouth to 
 re])ly ; but, at the same moment, his 
 eyes suddenly dilated in a fearl'ul 
 way, and he went under water, with 
 a gurgling cry. Yet not like ono 
 drowning, but with a jerk. 
 
 The next moment there was a 
 great bubbling of the water, as if 
 displaced by some large creatures 
 struggling below, and then the surface 
 was stained with blood. 
 
 And, lest there should be any 
 doubt as to the wretched man's fate, 
 the huge back fin of a monstrous 
 shark came soon after, gliding round 
 and round the rolling boat, awaiting 
 the next victim. 
 
 Now, while the water was yet 
 stained with his life-blood, who, hur- 
 rying to kill, had met with a violent 
 death, the unwouuded sailor, Fenner,
 
 84 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 excited by the fracas, broke forth in- 
 to singing, and so completed tlic hor- 
 ror of a wild and awful scene ; for 
 still, while he shouted, laughed, and 
 sang, the shark swam calmly round 
 and round, and the boat crept on, her 
 white sail l)espattcred witli blood, — 
 which was not so before, — and in her 
 bottom lay one man dead as a stone ; 
 and two poor wretches, Prince and 
 Welch, their short-lived feud com- 
 posed forever, sat openly sucking 
 their bleeding wounds, to quench for 
 a moment their intolerable thirst. 
 
 O, little do we, who never pass a sin- 
 gle day without bite or sup, know the 
 animal man, in these dire extremities. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 At last Cooper ordered Fenner to 
 hold his jaw, and come aft, and help 
 sail the boat. 
 
 But the man, being now stark mad, 
 took no notice of the order. His mad- 
 ness grew on him, and took a turn by 
 no means uncommon in tiiese cases. 
 He saw before him sumptuous feasts, 
 and streams of fresh water ilowing. 
 These he began to describe with great 
 volubility and rapture, smacking his 
 lips, and exulting : and so he went on 
 tantalizing them till noon. 
 
 Meantime, Cooper asked Mr. Ha- 
 zel if he could sail the boat. 
 
 " I can steer," said he, " but that is 
 all. My right arm is bi'numl)ed." 
 
 The silvery voice of Helen Kollcs- 
 ton then uttered brave and welcome 
 •words. " I will do whatever you tell 
 me, Mr. Cooper." 
 
 " Long life to you, miss ! " said the 
 wounded seaman. He then directed 
 lier how to reef tlie sail, anil splice the 
 sheet winch he had been oliliged to 
 cut ; and, in a word, to sail the boat ; 
 wliich she did with some little assist- 
 ance from Hazel. 
 
 And so tliey ail depended upon her, 
 whom some of them liad been lor kill- 
 ing : and the blood-stained boat glid- 
 ed before the wind. 
 
 At two p. M. Fenner jumped sud- 
 denly up, and, looking at the sea with 
 rapture, cried out, " Aha ! my boys, 
 here 's a beautiful green meadow ; 
 and there 's a sweet brook widi bul- 
 rushes : green, green, green ! Let 's 
 have a roll among the daisies." And, 
 in a moment, ere any of his stiff and 
 wounded shipmates coidd ])ut out a 
 hand, he threw himself (ju his back 
 upon the water, and sunk forever, 
 with inexpressible rapture on his 
 corpse-like face. 
 
 A feeble groan was the only tribute 
 those who remained behind could af- 
 ford him. 
 
 At three p. m. Mr. Hazel happened 
 to look over the weather-side of the 
 boat, as she heeled to leeward under 
 a smart breeze, and he saw a shell or 
 two fastened to her side, about eleven 
 inches above keel. He looked again, 
 and gave a loud iuirrah. " Barna- 
 cles ! barnacles ! " he cried. " I see 
 them sticking." 
 
 He leaned over, and, with some 
 difficulty, detached one, and held it 
 up. 
 
 It was not a barnacle, but a curious 
 oblong shell-fish, open at one end. 
 
 At sight of this, the wounded for- 
 got their wounds, and leaned over 
 the boat's side, detaching the shell-lish 
 with their knives. They broke them 
 with the handles of their knives, and 
 devoured the fish. They were as 
 thick as a man's finger, and about an 
 inch long, and as sweet as a nut. It 
 seems that in the long calm these 
 shell-fish had fiistened on the boat. 
 More than a hundred of them were 
 taken off her weather-side, and evenly 
 divided. 
 
 Miss RoUeston, at Hazel's earnest 
 request, ate only si.x, and these very 
 slowly, and laid the rest by. But 
 the sailors could not restrain them- 
 selves ; and Prince, in particular, 
 gorged himself so fiercely that he 
 turned purple in the face, and began 
 to breathe very hard. 
 
 That black speck on the horizon 
 had grown by noon to a beetle, and 
 by three o'clock to something more
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 85 
 
 like an elephant, and it now diffused 
 itself into a huge black cloud, that 
 gradually overspiead the heavens ; 
 and at "last, aliout half an hour be- 
 fore sunset, came a peculiar chill, 
 and tlien, in due course, a drop or 
 two fell upon the parched wretches. 
 They sat, less like animals than like 
 plants, all stretching towards their 
 preserver. 
 
 Their eyes were turned up to the 
 clouds, so were their open months, 
 and their arms and hands held up 
 towards it. 
 
 The drops increased in number, 
 and praise went up to heaven in re- 
 turn. 
 
 Patter, patter, patter ; down came 
 a shower, a rain, — a heavy, steady 
 rain. 
 
 With cries of joy, they put out 
 every vessel to catch it ; they low- 
 ered" the sail, and, putting ballast in 
 the centre, bellied it into a great ves- 
 sel to catch it. They used all their 
 spare canvas to catch it. They 
 filled the water-cask with it ; they 
 filled the keg that had held the fatal 
 spirit ; and all the time they were 
 sucking the wet canvas, and their 
 own clothes, and their very hands 
 and garments on which the life-giv- 
 ing drops kept falling. 
 
 Then they set their little sail 
 again, and prayed for land to Him 
 who had sent them wind and rain. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIIL 
 
 The breeze declined at sunset ; 
 but it rained at intervals during tlie 
 night ; and by the morning they were 
 somewhat chilled. 
 
 Death had visited them again 
 during the night. Prince was dis- 
 covered dead and cold ; his wounds 
 were mere scratches, and there seems 
 to be no doubt that he died by gorg- 
 ing himself with more food than his 
 enfeebled system could possibly di- 
 gest. 
 
 Thus dismally began a day of 
 
 comparative bodily comfort, but men- 
 tal distress, especially to Miss lloUes- 
 ton and Mr. Hazel. 
 
 Now that this lady and gentleman 
 were no longer goaded to madness 
 by physical suffering, their higiier 
 sensibilities resumed their natural 
 force, and the miserable contents of 
 the blood-stained boat shocked them 
 terribly. Two corpses and two 
 wounded men. 
 
 JMr. Hazel, however, soon came to 
 one resolution, and that was to read 
 the funeral service over the dead, 
 and then commit them to the deep. 
 He declared this intention, and Coop- 
 er, who, though wounded, and appar- 
 ently sinking, was still skijjper of 
 the boat, acquiesced readily. 
 
 Mr. Hazel then took the dead 
 men's knives and their money out 
 of their pockets, and read the burial- 
 service over them ; they were then 
 committed to the deep. Tiiis sad 
 ceremony performed, he addressed a 
 few words to the survivors. 
 
 " My friends, and brothers in af- 
 fliction, we ought not to hope too 
 much from Divine mercy for our- 
 selves ; or we should come soon to 
 forget Divine justice. But we are 
 not forbidden to hope for others. 
 Those who are now gone were guilty 
 of a terrible crime ; but then they 
 were tempted more than their flesh 
 could bear ; and they received their 
 punishment here on earth : we may 
 therefore hope they will escape pun- 
 ishment hereafter. And it is for us 
 to profit by their fate, and bow to 
 Heaven's will : even when they drew 
 their knives, food in plenty was 
 within their reach, and the signs of 
 wind were on the sea, and of rain in 
 the sky. Let ns be more patient than 
 they were, and place our trust — 
 What is that upon the water to lee- 
 ward ? A piece of wood floating ? " 
 
 Welch stood up and looked. " Can't; 
 make it out. Steer alongside it, miss, 
 if you please." And he crept for- 
 ward. 
 
 Presently he became excited, and 
 directed those in the stern how to
 
 86 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 steer the boat close to the object with- 
 out froin^ over it. He bc.L'fied them 
 all to be silent. He leaned over tlie 
 bo:U-si<le as they neured it. He clutched 
 it suildcniy with botii hand.s and thuiL,' 
 it into the bout with a shout of tri- 
 umph, but sank exhausted by the ef- 
 fort. 
 
 It was a youno; turtle ; and being 
 aslec)) on the water, or inexperienced, 
 had allowed them to capture it. 
 
 This was indeed a godsend : twelve 
 pounds of succulent meat. It was 
 instantly divided, and Mr. Hazel con- 
 trived, witii some ditiiculty, to boil a 
 portion of it. Ho enjoyed it greatly ; 
 but i\li>s Rollcston showed a curious 
 and violent antipathy to it, scarcely 
 credilile under iIk; circumstances. Not 
 so the sailors. They devoured it raw, 
 what they could get at all. Coo])er 
 could only get down a mouthful or 
 two: lie had received his death-wound, 
 and was manifestly sinking. 
 
 He revived, however, from time to 
 time, and s])oke cheerfully, whenever 
 he s])oke at all. Welcli infurmed him 
 of every incident that took place, 
 however minute. Then he would nod, 
 or utter a syllable or two. 
 
 On being told that they were pass- 
 ing through seaweed, he e.xpressed a 
 wish to see some of it, and when he 
 liad examined it, he said to Hazel, 
 "Keep up your hcnrt, sir; you are 
 ' not a hundred miles from land." He 
 added gently, after a pause, " But 1 
 am bound for another port." 
 
 About five in the afternoon, Welch 
 came aft, with tiie tears in his eyes, to 
 say that Sam was just going to slip 
 his cnble, and had something to say 
 to them. 
 
 They went to hitn directly, and 
 Hazel took his hand, and exhorted 
 him to forgive all his enemies. 
 
 '• Hain't a got none," was the re- 
 ply. 
 
 Hazel then, after a few words of re- 
 liLcious exhort ition and comfort, asked 
 him if lie could do anything for him. 
 
 " Ay," said Cooper, solemnly. 
 " Got pen and ink aboard, any of 
 ye ? " 
 
 " I have a pencil," said Helen, 
 earnestly; then, tearfully, "0 dear! 
 it is to make his will." She opened 
 her prayer-l)ook which had two blank 
 leaves under each cover. 
 
 The dying man saw them, and rose 
 into that remarkable energy which 
 sometimes precedes the departure of 
 the soul. 
 
 " Write ! " said he in his deep, full 
 tones. 
 
 " I, Samuel Cooper, able seaman, 
 am going to slip my cable, and sail 
 into the presence of my Maker." 
 
 He waited till this was written. 
 
 " And so I speak the truth. 
 
 " The ship Proserpine was destroyed 
 wilful. 
 
 " The men had more allowance 
 than they signed for. 
 
 " The mate was always plying the 
 captain with liquor. 
 
 " Two da}-s before ever the ship 
 leaked, the mate got the long-boat 
 ready. 
 
 " When the Proserpine sank, wc 
 was on her port quarter, aboard the 
 cutter, was me and my messmate 
 Tom Welch. 
 
 " Wc saw two auger-holes in her 
 stern, about two inches diameter. 
 
 " Them two holes was made from 
 within, for the splinters showed out- 
 side. 
 
 " She was a good ship, and met 
 with no stress of weather to speak 
 of, on that voyage. 
 
 "Joe Wylie scuttled her and de- 
 stroyed her people. 
 
 " D— n his eves ! " 
 
 Mr. Hazel was shocked at this
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 87 
 
 finale ; but he knew what sailors are, 
 and how little naeaning there is in 
 their set phrases. However, as a 
 clergyman, he could not allow these 
 to be' Cooper's last words ; so he said 
 earnestly, " Yes, but, my poor t'lUow, 
 you said you forgave all your enemies. 
 We all need forgiveness, you know." 
 
 " That is true, sir." 
 
 " And you forgive this Wylie, do 
 you not ? " 
 
 " O, Lord, yes," said Cooper, faint- 
 ly. " I forgive the lubber ; d — n 
 him ! " 
 
 Having said these words with some 
 difficulty, he became lethargic, and 
 so remained for two hours. Indeed 
 he spoke but once more, and that 
 was to Welch ; though they were all 
 about him then. " Messmate," said 
 he, in a voice that was now faint 
 and broken, " you and I must sail to- 
 gether on this new voyage. I 'm 
 going out of port first; but" (in a 
 whisper of inconceivable tenderness 
 and simple cunning) " I '11 lie to out- 
 side the harbor till you come out, my 
 boy." Then he paused a moment. 
 Then he added, softly, "For I love 
 you, Tom." 
 
 These sweet words were the last of 
 that rugged, silent sailor, who never 
 threw a word away, and whose rough 
 breast enclosed a friendship as of the 
 ancient world, tender, true, and ever- 
 lasting : that sweetened his life and 
 ennobled his death. As he deserved 
 mourners, so he had true ones. His 
 last woi'ds went home to the afflicted 
 hearts that heard them, and the lady 
 and gentleman, whose lives he had 
 saved at cost of his own, wejjt aloud 
 over their departed friend. But his 
 messmate's eye was dry. When all 
 was over, he just turned to the mourn- 
 ers, and said, gravely, " Thank ye, 
 sir : thank ye kindly, ma'am." And 
 then he covered the body decently 
 with the spare canvas, and lay quietly 
 down with his own head pillowed 
 upon those loved remains. 
 
 Towards afternoon, seals were ob- 
 served sporting on the waters ; but no 
 attempt was made to capture them. 
 
 Indeed, Miss Rolleston had quite 
 enough to do to sail the boat with 
 Mr. Hazel's assistance. 
 
 The night passed, and the morning 
 brought nothing new ; except that 
 they fell in with sea-weed in such 
 quantities the boat could hardly get 
 througii it." 
 
 Mr. Hazel examined this sea-weed 
 carefully, and brought several kinds 
 upon deck. Amongst the varieties, 
 was one like thin green strips of 
 spinach, very tender and succulent. 
 His botanical researches included sea- 
 weed, and he recognized this as one 
 of the edible rock-weeds. 
 
 There was very little of it compara- 
 tively, but he took great pains, and, 
 in two hours' time, had gathered as 
 much as might fill a good slop-basin. 
 
 He washed it in fresh water, and 
 then asked Miss Rolleston for a pocket- 
 handkerchief This he tied so as to 
 make a bag, and contrived to boil it 
 with the few chips of fuel that re- 
 mained on board. 
 
 After he had boiled it ten minutes, 
 there was no more fuel, except a bowl 
 or two, and the boar-hook, one pair 
 of oars, and the midship and stern 
 thwarts. 
 
 He tasted it, and found it glutinous 
 and delicious ; he gave Miss Rolles- 
 ton some, and then fed Welcli with 
 the rest. He, poor fellow, enjoyed 
 this sea spinach greatly ; he could no 
 longer swallow meat. 
 
 While Hazel was feeding him, a 
 flight of ducks passed over their heads, 
 high in the air. 
 
 Welch pointed up at them. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Helen, " if we had but 
 their wings ! " 
 
 Presently a bird was seen coming 
 in the same direction, but flying very 
 low ; it wabbled along towards them 
 very slowly, and at last, to their great 
 surprise, came flapping and tried to 
 settle on the gunwale of the boat. 
 Welch, with that instinct of slaughter 
 which belongs to men, struck the 
 boat-hook into the bird's back, and it 
 was soon despatched. It proved to be 
 one of that very flock of ducks that
 
 88 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 had passed over tlieir heads, and a 
 crab was found lastened to its le<f. It 
 is supposed that the bird, to break its 
 Ioiil; lliiiht, luid rested on some reef, 
 and, perbaps, bi-en too busy fishing; 
 and oaujibt tbis Tartar. 
 
 Hazel pouneed upon it. " Heaven 
 has sent this for you, because you 
 cannot eat turtle." But the next mo- 
 ment he blushed and recovered his 
 reason. " See," said he, referring to 
 lier own words, " this poor bird had 
 wings, yet death overtook her." 
 
 He sacritieed a bowl for fuel, and 
 boiled the duck and the crab in one 
 pot, and Miss liollestou ate demurely 
 but plentifully of both. Of the crab's 
 shell he m;ide a little drinking-vessel 
 for Miss Kolleston. 
 
 Cooper lemained without funeral 
 rites ad this time ; the reason was 
 that Welch lay with his head pillowed 
 upon his dead friend, and Hazel had 
 not the heart to disturb him. 
 
 But it was the snrvivors' duty to 
 commit him to the deep, and so Hazel 
 sat down by Welch, and asked him 
 kindly whether he would not wish the 
 services of the Church to be read over 
 his departed friend. 
 
 " In course, sir," said Welch. But 
 the next moment he took Hazel's 
 meaning, and said hurriedly, "No, 
 no; I can't let Sam be buried in the 
 sea. Ye sec, sir, Sam and I, we are 
 used to one another, and I can't abide 
 to part with him, alive or dead." 
 
 "Ah!" said Hazel, "the best 
 friends must part when death takes 
 one." 
 
 " Ay, ay, when t' other lives. But, 
 Lord bless you, sir ! I sha' n't be long 
 astarn of my messmate here ; can't 
 you see that ! " 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! " said Hazel, sur- 
 prised and alarmed. " Why, you are 
 not wounded mortally, as Cooper was. 
 Have ii good la-art, man, and we three 
 will all see old EnL'iand vet." 
 
 " Well, sir," s*id W'L'lch, coolly, 
 " I '11 tell ye : me and my shipmate. 
 Prince, was a cutting at one another 
 with our knives a smart time (and I 
 do properly wonder, when I think of 
 
 that day's work, for I liked the man 
 well enough, but rum atop of starva- 
 tion ])lays hell with seafaring men), 
 well, sir, as I was a saying, he let 
 more blood out of me than I could 
 alford to lose under the circumstances. 
 And, ye see, I can't make fresh 
 blood, because my throat is so swelled 
 by the drought, I can't swallow 
 much meat, so 1 'm safe to lose the 
 number of my mess ; and, another 
 thing, my heart is n't altogether set 
 towards living. Sam, here, he give 
 me an order ; what, did n't ye hear 
 him 1 ' I '11 lie to outside the bar,' 
 says he, ' till you come out.' He 
 expects me to come out in his wake. 
 Don't ye, Sam, — that was ? " and he 
 laid his hand gently on the remains. 
 " Now, sir, I hhall ax the lady and 
 you a favor. I want to lie alongside 
 Sam. But if you bury him in the 
 sea, and me ashore, why, d — n my 
 eyes if I sha' n't be a thousand years 
 or so before I can find my own mess- 
 mate. Etarnity is a 'nation big place, 
 I 'm told, a hundred times as big as 
 both oceans. No, sir ; you '11 make 
 land, by Sam's reckoning, to morrow 
 or next day, wind and tide permit- 
 ting. I '11 take care of Sam's Indl 
 till then, and we '11 lie together till 
 the angel blows that there trumpet; 
 and then we '11 go aloft together, and, 
 as soon as ever we have made our 
 scrape to our betters, we '11 both 
 speak a good word for you and the 
 lady, a very pretty lady she is, and a 
 good-hearted, and the best plucked 
 one I ever did see in any distressed 
 craft; now don't ye cry, miss, don't 
 ye cry, your trouble is ])rctty near 
 over ; he said ynu was not a hundred 
 miles from land : I don't know how 
 he knew that, he was always a better 
 seaman than I be ; hut say it he did, 
 and that is enough, for he was a man 
 as never told a lie, nor wasted a 
 word." 
 
 Welch could utter no more just 
 then ; for the glands of his throat 
 were swollen, and he spoke with con- 
 siderable difficultv. 
 
 What could Hazel reply? The
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 89 
 
 judgment is sometimes asliamed to 
 contradict the lieart with cold rea- 
 sons. 
 
 He only said, with a sigh, that he 
 saw no signs of land, and believed 
 they had gone on a wrong course, 
 and were in the heart of the Facitie. 
 
 Welch made no answer, but a look 
 of good-natured contempt. The idea 
 of this parson contradicting Sam 
 Cooper ! 
 
 The sun broke, and revealed the 
 illimitable ocean ; themselves a tiny 
 speck on it. 
 
 Mr. Hazel whispered Miss Rol- 
 leston that Cooper 7nust be buried 
 to-day. 
 
 At ten p. M. they passed through 
 more sea-weed ; but this time they 
 had to eat the sea spinach raw, and 
 there was very little of it 
 
 At noon, the sea was green 
 
 }n 
 
 places. 
 
 Welch told them this was a sign 
 they were nearing land. 
 
 At four p. M. a Inrd, about the size 
 and color of a woodpecker, settled on 
 the boat's mast. 
 
 Their glittering eyes fastened on 
 it; and Welch said, " Come, there 's 
 a supper for you as can eat it." 
 
 " No, poor thing ! " said Helen 
 EoUeston. 
 
 " You are right," said Hazel, with 
 a certain effort of self-restraint. " Let 
 our sufferings make us gentle, not 
 savage : that poor bird is lost like us 
 upon this ocean. It is a land-bird." 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " Water-birds have webbed feet, — 
 to swim with." The bird, having 
 rested, flew to the northwest. 
 
 Helen, by one of those inspired 
 impulses her sex have, altered the 
 boat's course directly, and followed 
 the bird. 
 
 Half an hour before sunset, Helen 
 Rolleston, whose vision was very 
 keen, said she saw something at the 
 verge of the horizon, like a hair stand- 
 ing upright. 
 
 Hazel looked, but could not see 
 anything. 
 
 In ten minutes more, Helen Rolles- 
 ton pointed it out again ; and then 
 Hazel did see a vertical line, more 
 like a sbip's mast than anything else 
 one could expect to see there. 
 
 Their eyes were now strained to 
 make it out, and, as the boat ad- 
 vanced, it became more and more 
 palpable, thougii it was hard to say 
 exactly what it was. 
 
 Five mitiutes before the sun set, the 
 air being clearer than ever, it stood 
 out clean against the sky. A tree, — 
 a lofty, solitary tree; witti a tall stem, 
 like a column, and branches only at 
 the top. 
 
 A palm-tree — in the middle of the 
 Pacific. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 And but for the land-bird which 
 rested on their mast, and for their 
 own mercy in sparing it, they would 
 have passed to the eastward, and 
 never seen that giant palm-tree in 
 mid-ocean. 
 
 " let us put out all our sails, 
 and fly to it ! " cried Helen. 
 
 Welch smiled and said, "No, miss, 
 ye must n't. Lord love ye ; what ! 
 run on to a land ye don't know, 
 happy go lucky, in the dark, like 
 that ? Lay her head for the tree, and 
 welcome, but you must lower the 
 mainsel, and treble-reef the foresel ; 
 and so creep on a couple of knots au 
 hour, and, by daybreak, you '11 find 
 the island close under your lee. Tiiea 
 you can look out for a safe landing- 
 place." 
 
 "The island, Mr. Welch!" said 
 Helen. " There is no island, or I 
 should have seen it." 
 
 " O, the island was hull down. 
 Why, you don't think as palm-trees 
 grow in the water ? You do as I 
 .'iay, or you '11 get wrecked on some 
 thundering reef or other." 
 
 Upon this Mr. Hazel and Miss Rol- 
 leston set to work, and, with consider- 
 able difficulty lowered the mainsail, 
 and treble-reefed the foresail.
 
 90 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 " That is riRht," said Welcli. " To- 
 morrow you '11 land in safety, and 
 bury my messmate and me." 
 
 "O no ! " cried Helen Rolleston. 
 " We must bury him, but we mean 
 to cure you." They obeyed Welch's 
 instructions, and so crept on all night ; 
 and, so well had this able seaman 
 calculated distance and rate of sail- 
 ing, that, when the sun rose, sure 
 enough there was an island under 
 tlieir lee, distant about a league, 
 though it looked much less. But the 
 palm-tree was more than twice that 
 distance. Owing to wind and current 
 they had made lee-way all night, and 
 that tree stood on the most westerly 
 point of the island. 
 
 Hazel and Miss Rolleston stood up 
 and hurrahed for joy ; then fell on 
 their kncis in silent gratitude. Welch 
 only smiled. 
 
 But the breeze had freshened, and, 
 though there were no great waves at 
 sea, yet breakers, formidable to such 
 a craft as theirs, were seen foaming 
 over long disjointed reefs ahead, that 
 grinned black and -dangerous here 
 and there. 
 
 They then consulted Welch, and 
 be told them they must tack directly, 
 and make a cu-cuit of the island ; he 
 had to show them how to tack ; and, I 
 the sea rising, ihcy got tiioroughly I 
 wetted, and Miss Rolleston rather 
 frigiitened; for here was a peril they 
 had wonderful!}' escaped hitherto. 
 
 However, before eleven o'clock, 
 they had stood out to sea, and coasted 
 the whole south side of the island : i 
 they then put the boat before the 1 
 wind, and soon ran past the east 
 coast, which was very narrow, — in j 
 fact, a sort of blurt'-liead, — and got 
 on tlie north side of the island. Here 
 the water was comparatively smooth, 
 and the air warm and balmy. They i 
 ranged along the coast at about a ! 
 mile's distance, looking out for a good i 
 landing. 
 
 Here was no longer an unbroken 
 line of cliffs, but an undulating coast, ; 
 with bulging rocks, and lines of reef, j 
 After a mile or two of that the coast 
 
 ran out seaward, and they passed close 
 to a most extraordinary phenomenou 
 of vegetation. Great tangled woods 
 crowned the shore and the landward 
 slopes, and their grand foliage seemed 
 to flow over into the sea • fur here was 
 a broad rocky flat, intersected with a 
 thousand little channels of the sea ; 
 and the thousand little islets so 
 formed were crowded, covered, and 
 hidden with luxuriant vegetation. 
 Huge succulent leaves of the richest 
 hue hung over the water, and some 
 of the most adventurous showed, by 
 the crystals that sparkled on their 
 green surface, tiiat the waves had act- 
 ually been kissing them at high tide. 
 This ceased, and they passed under a 
 cliff, wooded nearly to the point. 
 
 This cliff' was broad and irregular, 
 and in one of its cavities a cascade of 
 pure fresh water came sjjarkling, 
 leaping, and tumbling down to. the 
 foot of the rock. There it had formed 
 a great basin of water, cool, deep, 
 transparent, which trickled over on to 
 a tongue of pink sand, and went in 
 two crystal gutters to the sea. 
 
 Great and keen was the rapture 
 this sight caused our poor parched 
 voyagers ; and eager their desire to 
 land at once, if jiossible, and plunge 
 their burning lips, and swelling 
 throats, and levered hands, into that 
 heavenly liquid ; but the next mo- 
 ment they were diverted from that pur- 
 pose by the scene that hurst on them. 
 
 This wooded cliff", with its wonder- 
 ful cascade, was the very gate of par- 
 adise. They passed it, and in one 
 moment were in a bay, — a sudden 
 bay, wonderfully deep for its extent, 
 and sheltered on three sides. Broad 
 sands with rainbow tints, all spar- 
 kling, and dotted with birds, some 
 white as snow, some gorgeous. A 
 peaceful sea of excpiisite blue kissing 
 these lovely sands with myriad dim- 
 ples ; and, from the land side, soft 
 emerald slopes, cnibroiilered with sil- 
 ver threads of water, came to the very 
 edjrc of the sands : so that, from all 
 those glorious hues, that flecked the 
 prismatic and sparkhng sands, the eye
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 91 
 
 of the voyagers passed at once to the 
 vivid, yet sweet and soothing, green 
 of Nature ; and over this paradise 
 the breeze they could no longer feel 
 wafted spicy but delicate odors from 
 unseen trees. 
 
 Even Welch raised liimself in the 
 boat, and sniffed the heavenly air, 
 and smiled at the heavenly spot. 
 " Here 's a blessed haven ! " said he. 
 " Down sail, and row her ashore." 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 They rowed more than a mile, so 
 deep was the glorious bay ; and then 
 their oars struck the ground. But 
 Hazel with the boat-hook propelled 
 the boat gently over the pellucid water, 
 that now seemed too shallow to float 
 a canoe : and at last looked like the 
 mere varnish of that pictui'e, the pris- 
 matic sands below; yet still the little 
 craft glided over it, till it gently 
 grazed the soft sand, and was station- 
 aiy. So placidly ended that terrible 
 voyage. 
 
 Mr. Hazel and IMiss RoUeston were 
 on shore in a moment, and it was 
 all they could do not to fall upon the 
 land and kiss it. 
 
 Never had the sea disgorged upon 
 that foiry isle such ghastly spectres. 
 They looked, not like people about 
 to die, but that had died, sAd been 
 buried, and just come out of their 
 graves to land on that blissful shore. 
 We should have started back with 
 horror ; but the birds of that virgin 
 isle merely stepped out of their way, 
 and did not fly. 
 
 They had landed in paradise. 
 
 Even Welch yielded to that univer- 
 sal longing men have to embrace the 
 land after perils at sea, and was put- 
 ting his leg slowly over the gunwale, 
 when Hazel came back to his assist- 
 ance. He got ashore, but was con- 
 tented to sit down with his eyes on the 
 dimpled sea and the boat, waiting 
 quietly till the tide should float his 
 friend to his feet again. 
 
 The sea-birds walked quietly about 
 him, and minded him not. 
 
 Miss Rolleston ascended a green 
 slope very slowly, for her limbs were 
 cramped, and was lost to view. 
 
 Hazel now went up the beach, and 
 took a more minute survey of the 
 neighborhood. 
 
 The west sideof thebay was varied. 
 Half of it presented the soft charac- 
 ter that marked the bay in general ; 
 but a portion of it was rocky, though 
 streaked with vegetation, and this part 
 was intersected by narrow clefts, into 
 which, in some rare tempests and high 
 tides combined, tongues of the sea had 
 entered, licking the sides of the gullies 
 smooth ; and these occasional visits 
 were marked bj- the sand and broken 
 shells and other debris the tempestuous 
 and encroaching sea had left behind. 
 
 The true high-water mark was sev- 
 eral feet lower than these debris, and 
 was clearly marked. On the land 
 above the cliffs he found a tangled 
 jungle of tropical shrubs, into which 
 he did not penetrate, but skirted it, 
 and, walking eastward, came out u])on 
 a delicious down or grassy slope, that 
 faced the centre of the bay. It was a 
 gentleman's lawn of a thousand acres, 
 with an extremely gentle slope from 
 the centre of the island down to the 
 sea. 
 
 A river flowing from some distant 
 source ran eastward through this down, 
 but at its verge, and almost encircled 
 it. Hazel traversed the lawn until 
 this river, taking a sudden turn 
 towards the sea, intercepted him at a 
 spot which he immediately fixed on 
 as Helen Rolleston's future residence. 
 
 Four short, thick, umbrageoits trees 
 stood close to the stream on this side, 
 and on the eastern side was a grove of 
 gigantic palin-trecs, at whose very 
 ankles the river ran. Indeed, it had 
 undermined one of these palm-trees, 
 and that giant at this moment lay all 
 across the stream, leaving a gap 
 through which Hazel's ej'e could 
 pierce to a great depth among those 
 grand columns ; for they stood wide 
 apart, and there was not a vestige of
 
 92 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 brushwood, jangle, or even grass, 
 below their enormous crowns. He 
 christened the place St. Helen's on 
 tiie spot. 
 
 He now dipped his baler into the 
 stream, and found it pure and tolerably 
 cool. 
 
 He Followed the bend of the stream ; 
 it evaded tiie slope and took him by 
 its own mikler descent to the sands : 
 over tliose it flowed smooth as glass 
 into the sea. 
 
 Hazel ran to Welch to tell him all 
 he had discovered, and to give him 
 his first water from the island. 
 
 He found a roancolored pigeon, 
 with a ])iirplish neck, perched on the 
 sick man's foot. The bird shone like 
 a rainlww, and cocked a saucy eye at 
 Hazel, and flew u]) into the air a few 
 yards, but it soon appeared that fear 
 bad little to do with this movement ; 
 for, after an airy circle or two, he 
 fanned Hazel's cheek with his fast- 
 flapping wings, and lighted on the 
 very edge of the baler, and was for 
 sipping. 
 
 " 0, look here, Welch ! "' cried 
 Hazel, in an ecstasy of delight. 
 
 " Ay, sir," said he. " Poor things, 
 they hain't a found us out yet." 
 
 The t:dking puzzled the bird, if it 
 did not alarm him, and he flew up to 
 the nearest tree, and, perching there, 
 inspected these new and noisy bipeds 
 at his leisure. 
 
 Hazel now laid his hand on Welch's 
 shoulder and reminded him gently 
 they had a sad duty to perform, which 
 could not be postponed. 
 
 " Right you are, sir," said Welch, 
 "and very kind of you to let me have 
 my way with him. Poor Sam ! " 
 
 " I liave found a place," said Ha- 
 zel, in a low voice. " We can take 
 the boat close to it. But where is 
 Miss Rolleston ? " 
 
 "0, she is not far off; she was 
 here just now, and brought me this 
 here little cocoa-nut, and ])attcd me 
 on the back, she did, then off again 
 on a cruise. Bless her little heart ! " 
 
 Hazel and Welch then got into the 
 boat, and pushed off without much 
 
 difficulty, and punted across the bay 
 to one of those clefts we have indi- 
 cated. It was now nearly higli water, 
 and they moored the boat close under 
 the cleft Hazel iiad selected. 
 
 Then they both got out and went 
 up to the extremity of the cleft, and 
 tiiere, with the axe and with pieces 
 of wood, they scraped out a resting- 
 place for Cooper. Tiiis was light 
 work ; for it was all stones, shells, 
 fragments of coral, and dried sea- 
 weed, lying looselv together. But 
 now came a hard task in which Welch 
 could not assist. Hazel unshipped a 
 thwart, and laid the body on it : then 
 by a great eflbrt staggered with the 
 bnrdeti up to the grave and deposited 
 it. He was exhausted by the exer- 
 tion, and had to sit down i>anting for 
 some time. As soon as he was re- 
 covered, he told Welch to stand at 
 the head of the grave, and he stood 
 at the foot, bareheaded, and then, 
 from memory, he repeated the service 
 of our Ciiureii, hardly missing or dis- 
 placing a word. 
 
 This was no tame recital ; the 
 scene, the circumstances, the very ab- 
 sence of the book, made it tender and 
 solemn. And then Welch repeated 
 those beautiful words after Hazel, 
 and Hazel let him. And how did he 
 rejjeat them ? In sucii a hearty, lov- 
 ing tone, as became one who was 
 al)0ut to follow, and all this but a 
 short leave-taking. So uttered, for 
 the living as well as the dead, those 
 immortal words had a strange signifi- 
 cance and beauty. 
 
 And presently a tender, silvery 
 voice came down to mingle with the 
 deep and solemn tones of the male 
 mourners. It was Helen Rolleston. 
 Siic had watched most of their move- 
 ments unseen herself, and now, stand- 
 ing at the edge of the ravine, and 
 looking down on them, uttered a soft 
 hut thrilling amen to every prayer. 
 When it was over, and tiie men pre- 
 pared to fill in the grave, she spoke 
 to Welch in an undertone, and begged 
 leave to pay her tribute first ; and, 
 with this, she detached her apron.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 93 
 
 and held it out to them. Hazel ea- 
 sily climbed up to her, and found her 
 apron was full of sweet-smelling bark 
 and aromatic leaves, whose fragrance 
 filled the air. 
 
 " I want you to strew these over 
 his poor remains," she said. " O, 
 not common earth ! lie saved our 
 lives. And his last words were, ' I 
 love you, Tom.' O dear, dear, O 
 dear ! " And with that she gave him 
 the apron, and turned her head away 
 to hide her tears. 
 
 Hazel blessed her for the thought, 
 which, indeed, none but a lady would 
 have had ; and Welch and he, with 
 the tears in their eyes, strewed the 
 spicy leaves first; and soon a ridge of 
 shingle neatly bound with sea-weed 
 marked the sailor's grave. 
 
 Hazel's next anxiety, and that a 
 pressing one, was to provide shelter 
 for the delicate girl and the sick man, 
 whom circumstances had placed under 
 his care. He told Miss Rolleston 
 Welcii and he were going to cross the 
 bay again, and would she he good 
 enough to meet them at the bend of 
 the river where she would find four 
 trees ? She nodded her head and 
 took that road accordingly. Hazel 
 rowed eastward across the bay, and, 
 it being now high water, he got the 
 boat into the river itself near the edge 
 of the shore, and, as this river had 
 worn a channel, he contrived with 
 the boat-hook to propel the boat up 
 the stream, to an angle in the bank 
 within forty j'ards of the four trees. 
 He could get no farther, the stream 
 being now not only shallow, but 
 blocked here and there with great 
 and rough fragments of stone. Hazel 
 pushed the boat into the angle out of 
 the current, and moored her fast. He 
 and Welch then got ashore, and Miss 
 Rolleston was standing at the four 
 trees. He went to her and said en- 
 thusiastically, " This is to be your 
 house. Is it not a beautiful site f " 
 
 " Yes, it is a beautiful site, but — 
 forgive me — I really don't see the 
 house," was her reply. 
 
 " But you see the frame-work." 
 
 Helen looked all about, and then 
 said, ruefully, " I suppose I am blind, 
 sir, or else you are dreaming, for I see 
 nothing at all." 
 
 " Why, here 's a roof ready made, 
 and the frame of a wall. \Ve have 
 only to wattle- a screen between these 
 four uprights." 
 
 " Only to wattle a screen ! But I 
 don't know what wattling a screen is. 
 Who does 1 " 
 
 " Why, you get some of the canes 
 that grow a little farther up the river, 
 and a certain long wiry grass I have 
 marked down, and then you fix and 
 weave till you make a screen from 
 tree to tree ; this could be patched 
 with wet clay ; I know where there is 
 plenty of that. Meantime see what is 
 done to our hands. The crown of 
 this great palm-tree lies at the south- 
 ern aperture of your house, and blocks 
 it entirely up : that will keep off the 
 only cold wind, the south wind, from 
 you to-night. Then look at these 
 long, spiky leaves interlaced over your 
 head. (These trees are screw-pines.) 
 There is a roof ready made. You 
 must have another roof underneath 
 that, but it will do for a day or two." 
 
 " But you will wattle the screen 
 directly," said Helen. " Begin at 
 once, please. I am anxious to see a 
 screen wattled." 
 
 "Well," said Welch, who had 
 joined them, " landsmen are queer 
 folk, the best of 'em. Why, miss, it 
 would take him a week to screen you 
 with rushes and reeds, and them sort 
 of weeds ; and I 'd do it in half an 
 hour, if I was the Tom Welch I used 
 to be. Why, there 's spare canvas 
 enough in the boat to go between 
 these four trees breast high, and then 
 there 's the foresel besides ; the main- 
 sel is all you and me shall want, sir." 
 
 " O, excuse me," said Miss Eolles- 
 ton, " 1 will not be sheltered at the 
 expense of my friends." 
 
 " Welch, you are a trump," said 
 Hazel, and ran off for the spare can- 
 vas. He brought it and the carpen- 
 ter's basket of tools. They went to
 
 94 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 work, and Miss Rollcston insisted on 
 taking; part in it. Finding- her so dis- 
 posed, Hazel said that they liad hotter 
 divide their labors, since the time was 
 short. Accordingly he took the axe 
 and chopped off a "great many scales 
 of the palm-tree, and li^ditcd a great 
 fire between the trees, while the other 
 two worked on the canvas. 
 
 " This is to dry the soil as well as 
 cook our provisions," said he ; " and 
 now I must go and find food. Is 
 there anything you fancy ? " He 
 turned his head from the tire he was 
 lighting and addressed this question 
 both to Welch and Miss Rollosion. 
 
 INIiss KoUeston stared at this ques- 
 tion, then smiled, and, in the true 
 spirit of a lady, said, " I think I 
 should like a good large cocoa-nut, if 
 you can find one." She felt sure there 
 was no other eatable thing in the 
 whole island. 
 
 " I wants a cabbage," said Welch, 
 in a loud voice. 
 
 " Mr. Welch, we are not at 
 home," said Miss Rolleston, blushing 
 at the preposterous demand. 
 
 " No, miss, in Capericorn. Where- 
 by we sha' n't have to pay nothing for 
 tins here cabbage. I '11 tell ye, miss : 
 when a sailor comes ashore he always 
 goes in for green vegetables, for why, 
 he has eaten so much junk and bis- 
 cuit, nature sings out for greens. Me 
 and my shipmates was paid off at 
 Portsmouth last year, and six of us 
 agreed to dine together and cnoh or- 
 der his dish. Blest if six boiled legs 
 of mutton did not come up smoking 
 hot : three was with cabbage, and 
 three with turmots. Mine was with 
 turmots. But then I don't ask, so 
 nigh the Line : don't ye go to think, 
 because I 'm sick, and tiie lady and 
 you is so kind to mc, and to him that 
 IS a waiting outside them there siioals 
 for me, as I 'm onreasonable ; turmots 
 I wish you both, and plenty of 'em, 
 wiien some whaler gets driven out of 
 her course and picks you up, and car- 
 ries you into nortiiern latitudes where 
 turmots grow ; but cabbage is my 
 right, cabbage is my due, being paid 
 
 off in a manner ; for the ship is foun- 
 dered and I 'm ashore : cabbage I ask 
 for, as a seaman that has done his 
 duty, and a man thatwon'i live to eat 
 many more of 'em ; and " (losing his 
 temper), " if you are the man I 
 take you for, you '11 run and fetch me 
 a cabbagefrcsli from the tree" (recov- 
 ering ids temper). " I know I did n't 
 ought to ax a ])arson to shin up a tree 
 for me : but, Lord bless you, there ain't 
 no sarcy little boys a looking on, and 
 here 's a poor fellow mostly dying for 
 it." 
 
 Miss Rolleston looked at Mr. Ha- 
 zel with alarm in every feature ; and 
 whimpered, " Cabbage from the tree. 
 Is he wandering ! " 
 
 Hazel smiled. "No," said he. 
 " He has picked up a fable of these 
 seas, that there is a tree which grows 
 cabl)ages." 
 
 Welch heard him and said, with due 
 warmth, " Of course there is a tree 
 on all these islands that grows cab- 
 bages ; that Avas known a hundred 
 years before you was born, arid ship- 
 mates of mine have eaten tliem." 
 
 " Excuse me, what those old Ad- 
 mirals and Buccaneers, that set the 
 legend afloat, were so absurd as to 
 call a cabbage, and your shipmates 
 may have eaten for one, is nothing on 
 earth but the last year's growtii of the 
 palm-tree." 
 
 " Palm-tree be " said Welch ; 
 
 and thereupon ensued a hot argu- 
 ment, which Helen's good sense cut 
 short. 
 
 " Mr. Hazel," said she, " can you 
 by any possibility get our poor friend 
 the thing he wants ? " 
 
 " O, that is quite within the bounds 
 of possil)ility," said Hazel, dryly. 
 
 " Well, then, suppose you begin by- 
 getting him the thinr/. Then I will 
 boil the thing, and he will eat the thinrj; 
 and after all that it will be time to 
 argue about the name we shall give to 
 the thing." 
 
 The good sense of this struck Mr. 
 
 Hazel forcibly. He started off at 
 
 once, armed with the axe, and a net 
 
 I bag Welch had made since he became
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 95 
 
 unfit for heavy labor : he called back 
 to them as he went to put the pots on. 
 Welch and Miss KoUeston com- 
 plied ; and then the sailor showed the 
 lady how to sew sailor-wise, driving 
 the large needle with the palm of the 
 hand, guarded by a piece of leather. 
 They had nailed two breadths of can- 
 vas to the trees on the north and west 
 sides, and run the breadths rapidly 
 together; and the water was boiling 
 and bubbling in the balers, when Miss 
 EoUeston uttered a scream,, for Hazel 
 came running over the prostrate palm- 
 tree as if it was a proper bridge, and 
 lighted in the midst of them. 
 
 " Lot one," said he clieerfully, and 
 produced from his net some limes, 
 two cocoa-nuts, and a land-turtle ; 
 from this last esculent Miss Rolleston 
 withdrew with undisguised horror, 
 and it was in vain he assured her it 
 was a great delicacy. 
 
 " No matter : it is a reptile. O 
 please send it away." 
 
 " The Queen of the Island reprieves 
 you," said he, and put down the terra- 
 pin, which went oft" very leisurely for 
 a reprieved reptile. 
 
 Then Hazel produced a fine bream, 
 which he had found struggling in a 
 rock-pool, the tide having turned, and 
 three sea crayfish, bigger than any 
 lobster. He chopped tlieir heads off 
 outside, and threw their tails into the 
 pots ; he stuck a piece of pointed 
 wood through the bream, and gave it 
 to Welch to toast ; but Welch waved 
 it aside. 
 
 " I see no cabbage," said he, grimly. 
 " O, I forgot : but that is soon 
 found," said Hazel. "Here, give me 
 the fisl), and you take the saw, and ex- 
 amine the head of this palm-tree, which 
 lies at Miss Rolleston's door. Saw 
 away tlie succulent part of last year's 
 growth, and bring it here." 
 Welch got up slowly. 
 " I '11 go with you, Mr. Welch," 
 said Miss Rolleston. 
 
 She will not be alone with me for a 
 moment, if she can help it, thought 
 Hazel, and sat moody by the fire. But 
 he shook off his sadness, and forced 
 
 on a cheerful look the moment they 
 came back. They brought with them 
 a vegetable very like the heart of a 
 cabbage, only longer and whiter. 
 
 " There," said Welch, " what d'ye 
 call that?" 
 
 " The last year's growth of the 
 palm," said Hazel, calmly. 
 
 This vegetable was cut in two and 
 put into the pots. 
 
 " There, take the toasting-fork 
 again," said Hazel to Welch, and 
 drew out from his net three huge 
 scallop-shells. " Soup-plates," said 
 he, and washed them in the running 
 stream : then put thein before the fire 
 to dry. 
 
 While the fish and vegetable were 
 cooking, he went and cut off some of 
 the leafy, pinnated branches of tlie 
 palm tree, and fastened them horizon- 
 tally above the strips of canvas. Each 
 palm-branch traversed a whole side of 
 the bower. This closed the northern 
 and western sides. 
 
 On the southern side, the prostrate 
 palm-tree, on striking the ground, had 
 so crushed its boughs and leaves to- 
 gether as to make a thick wall of 
 foliage. 
 
 Then he took to making forks ; and 
 primitive ones they were. He selected 
 a bough the size of a thick walking- 
 stick ; sawed it off the tree : sawed a 
 piece six inches long off it, peeled that, 
 split it in four, and, with his knife, 
 gave each piece three points, by merely 
 tapering off and serrating one end ; 
 and so he made a fork a minute. Then 
 he brouglit all the rugs and things 
 from the boat, and, the ground being 
 now thoroughly dried by the fire, 
 placed them for seats; gave each per- 
 son a large leaf for a plate, besides a 
 scallop-shell ; and served out supper. 
 It was eaten with rare appetite ; the 
 palm-tree vegetable in particular was 
 delicious, tasting between a cabbage 
 and a cocoa-nut. 
 
 When they had supped. Hazel re- 
 moved the plates and went to the boat. 
 He returned, drasrging the fore-mast 
 and foi'csail, which were small, and 
 called Welch out. They agreed to
 
 96 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 rig the mainsail tarpanlin-wisc and 
 sleep in the boat. Accordingly they 
 made tlK-niselves very busy screeniiij,^ 
 tlie cast side of Miss KoUeston's new 
 abode wiih the foresail, and fastened 
 a h)op and drove a nail into the tree, 
 and loo])ed tiie sail to it, then sudden- 
 ly bade her good night in cheerful 
 tones, and were gone in a moment, 
 leaving her to iicr repose, as they im- 
 agined. ILizel, in particnlar, having 
 used all his ingenuity to secure her 
 personal comfort, was now too bent 
 on sliowing her the most delicate 
 respect and forbearance to think of 
 anything else. But, justly counting 
 on the delicaCT, he had forgotten tlie 
 timidity, of her sex, and her first 
 night in the island was a terribly try- 
 ing one. 
 
 Thrice she opened her mouth to 
 call Welch and Hazel back, but could 
 not. Yet, when their footsteps were 
 out of hearing, she would have given 
 tiie world to have them Ijetween her 
 and tlie perils with which she felt her- 
 self surrounded. 
 
 Tigers ; Snakes ; Scorpions ; Sav- 
 ages ! what would become of her 
 during the long night? 
 
 She sat and cowered before the 
 hot embers. She listened to what 
 seemed the angry roar of the sea. 
 What with the stillness of the night 
 and her sharpened senses she heard it 
 all round the island. She seemed 
 environed with peril, and yet sur- 
 rounded by desolation. No one at 
 hand to save her in time from a wild 
 beast. No one anywhere near except 
 a sick sailor and one she would al- 
 most rather die than call singly to her 
 aid, for he had once told her he loved 
 her. 
 
 "O papa! O Arthur!" she cried, 
 " arc you praying for your poor 
 Helen t " Then she wept ami ])raycd ; 
 and half nerved herself to bear the 
 worst. Finally, her vague fears com- 
 pletely overmastered her. Then she 
 liad recour.se to a stratagem that be- 
 longs to her sex, — she hid herself 
 from the danger, and the danger from 
 her : she covered herself face and all, 
 
 and so lay trembling, and longing for 
 the day. 
 
 At the first streak of dawn she fled 
 from her place of torture, and after 
 plunging her face and hands in the 
 river, which did her a world of good, 
 she went off, and entered the jungle, 
 and sear(}hed it closely, so far as she 
 could penetrate it. Soon she heard 
 " Miss Rolleston ' calle<l in anxious 
 tones. But she tossed her little head, 
 and revenged herself for her night of 
 agony by not replying. 
 
 However, Nature took her in hand ; 
 imperious hunger drew her back to 
 her late place of torture ; and there 
 she found a fire, and Hazel cooking 
 cray-fish. She ate the cray-tish heart- 
 ily, and drank cocoa-nut milk out of 
 half a cocoa-nut, which the ingenious 
 Hazel had already sawn, polished, and 
 mounted for her. 
 
 After that. Hazel's whole day was 
 occupied in stripping a tree th:it stood 
 on the high western promontory of 
 the bay, and building u]) the materials 
 of a bonfire a few yards from it, that, 
 if any whaler should stray that way, 
 they might not be at a loss for means 
 to attract her attention. 
 
 Welch was very ill all day, and 
 Miss Rolleston nursed him. He got 
 about towards evening, and Miss 
 Rolleston asked him, rather timidly, 
 if he could put hemp a bell-rope. 
 
 " Wiiy, yes, miss," said Welch, 
 " that is easy enough ; but I don't see 
 no bell." 
 
 O, she did not want a bell, — she 
 only wanted a bell-rope. 
 
 Hazel came up during this conver- 
 sation, and she then gave her reason. 
 
 " Because, then, if Mr. Welch is 
 ill in the night, and wants me, I could 
 come to him. Or — " finding herself 
 getting near the real reason she 
 Slopped short. 
 
 "Or what?" inquired Hazel, ea- 
 gerly. 
 
 She replied to Welch. "When 
 tigers and Things come to me, I can 
 let you know, Mr. Welch, if you have 
 any curiosity about the result of their 
 visit."
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 97 
 
 "Tigers ! " said Hazel, in ansv.'crto 
 this side slap ; " tliere are no tigers 
 here ; no large animals of prey exist 
 in the Pacitic." 
 
 " What makes you think that? " 
 
 " It is notorious : naturalists are 
 agreed." 
 
 " But 1 am not. I heard noises all 
 night. And little I expected that 
 anything of me would be left this 
 morning, except, perhaps, my back 
 hair. Mr. Welch, you are clever at 
 rigging things, — tiiat is what you 
 call it, — and so please rig me a bell- 
 rope, then I shall not be eaten alive 
 without creating some little disturb- 
 ance." 
 
 "I'll do it, miss," said Welch, 
 " this very night." 
 
 Hazel said nothing, but pondered. 
 Accordingly, tiiat very evening a piece 
 of stout twine, with a stone at the end 
 of it, hung down from the roof of 
 Helen's house ; and this twine clove 
 the air, until it reached a ring upon 
 the mainmast of the cutter ; thence it 
 descended, and was to be made fast 
 to something or somebody. The 
 young lady inquired no further. The 
 very si^litof t!iis bell-rope was a great 
 comfort to her ; it reunited her to civ- 
 ilized life. 
 
 That night she lay down, and 
 quaked considerably less. Yet she 
 woke several times ; and an hour be- 
 fore daylight she heard distinctly a 
 noise that made her flesh creep. It 
 was like the snoring of some great 
 animals. This horrible sound was 
 foint and distant ; but she heard it 
 between tiie roll of the waves, and that 
 showed it was not the sea roaring ; 
 she hid herself in her imgs, and cow- 
 ered till daybreak. A score of times 
 .she was minded to pull her bell-rope ; 
 but always a womanly feeling, strong 
 as her love of life, withheld her. 
 '" Time to pull that bell-rope when 
 the danger was present or imminent," 
 she thought to herself. " The Thing 
 will come smelling about before it at- 
 tacks me, and then I will pull the 
 bell " ; and so she passed an hour of 
 agony. 
 
 Next morning, at daybreak, Hazel 
 met her just issuing from her iuit, and 
 pointing to his net told her he was 
 going to forage ; and would she be 
 good enough to make the Are and have 
 boiling water ready 1 he was sorry to 
 trouble her ; but poor Welch was 
 worse this morning. Miss Ilollcston 
 cut short his excuses. " Pray do not 
 take me for a child ; of course I will 
 light the fire, and boil the water. 
 Only I have no lucifer matches." 
 
 "Here are two," said he. " I car- 
 ry the box, wrapped in oil-skin : for 
 if anything happen to them, Heaven 
 help us." 
 
 He crossed the prostrate palm-tree, 
 and dived into the wood. It was a 
 large beautiful wood, and, except at 
 the western edge, the trees were all of 
 the palm-tree genus, but contained 
 several species, including the cocoa- 
 nut tree. The turf ran under these 
 trees for about forty yards and then 
 died gradually away under the same 
 thick shade which destroyed all other 
 vegetation in this wood, and made it 
 so easy to see and travel. 
 
 He gathered a few cocoa-nuts that 
 had burst out of their ripe pods and 
 fallen to the ground ; and ran on till 
 he reached a belt of trees and shrubs, 
 that bounded the palm forest. Here 
 his progress was no longer easy : but ho 
 found trees covered with a small fruit 
 resembling quinces in every jjarticular, 
 of look, taste, and smell, and that 
 made liim persevere, since it was most 
 important to learn the useful products 
 of the island. Presently he burst 
 through some brushwood into a 
 swampy bottom surrounded by low 
 trees, and instantly a dozen large 
 birds of the Osprey kind rose flapping 
 into the air like windmills rising. He 
 was quite startled bj^ the whirring and 
 flap2:iing, and not a little amazed at 
 the appearance of the place. Here 
 was a very charnel-house ; so thick 
 lay the shells, skeletons, and loose 
 bones of fish. Here too he found 
 three terrapin killed but not eaten : 
 and also some fish, more or less 
 Decked. " Aha ! my worthy execu-
 
 98 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 tioncrs, muchoblifjcd/'saidhe : "j-ou 
 have saved me that jol) " : and into 
 the ba<r went the terrapin, and two 
 plump fish, but sliyhtly mutilated. 
 Before he had gone many yards, baclc 
 came the suihn<j wings, and the birds 
 settled again before bis eyes. The 
 rest of the low wood was liut thin, 
 and he soon emerged upon the open 
 country ; but it was most unpromis- 
 ing; and fitter for geese than men : a 
 vast sedgy swamp with water in the 
 middle, thin fringes of great fern- 
 trees, and here and there a disconso- 
 late tree like a weeijing-willow, and at 
 the end of tliis lake and swamp, 
 which all together formed a triangle, 
 was a barren hill without a blade of 
 vegetation on it, and a sort of jagged 
 summit, volcanic ! Hazel did not at 
 all like the look of. 
 
 Somewiiat dismayed at finding so 
 large a slice of the island worthless, 
 he returned through the wood, guid- 
 ing himself due west by his pocket- 
 compass, and so got down to the 
 shore, where he found scallops and 
 crayfish in incredible abundance. Lit- 
 erally, he had only to go into the wa- 
 ter and gather them. But " enough" 
 is as good as " a feast." lie ran to the 
 pots with his miscellaneous bag, and 
 was not received according to his de- 
 serts. Miss TioUeston told him, a lit- 
 tle severely, the water had been boil- 
 ing a long time. Then he produced 
 his provender, by way of excuse. 
 
 " Tortoises again ! " said she, and 
 shuddered visibly. 
 
 But the quinces and cocoa-nuts 
 were graciously received. Welch, 
 however, cried out for cabbage. 
 
 " What am I to do ? " said Hazel. 
 " For every such cabbage a king- 
 must die." 
 
 " Goodness mc ! " 
 
 " A monarch of the grove." 
 
 " O, a King Log. Why, then 
 down with them all, of course ; sooner 
 than dear Mr. Welch shall go with- 
 out his cabbage." 
 
 He cast a look of admiration on 
 her, which she avoided, aii<l very soon 
 his axe was heard ringing in the 
 
 wood hard by. Then came a loud 
 crash. Then another. Hazel came 
 running with the cabbaue, and a 
 cocoa-pod. " There," said he, " and 
 there are a hundred more about. 
 Whilst you cook that for Welch, I 
 will stoi-c them." Accordingly he 
 returned to the wood with his net, 
 and soon came back with live ])ods in 
 it, each as big as a large pumpkin. 
 
 He chucked these one at a time 
 across the river, and then went for 
 more. It took him all the afternoon 
 to get all the pods across the river. 
 He was obliged to sit down and 
 rest. 
 
 But a suggestion of Helen's soon 
 set him to work again. 
 
 " You were kind enough to say you 
 would store these for me. Could you 
 not store them so as to wall out those 
 terrible beasts with them ? " 
 
 " What terrible beasts 1 " 
 
 " That roar so all night, and don't 
 eat us, only because they have not 
 found out we are here yet. But they 
 will." 
 
 " I deny their existence," said 
 Hazel. ""But I '11 wall them out 
 all the same," said he. 
 
 "Pray do," said Helen. "Wall 
 them out first, and disprove them 
 afterwards ; I shall be better able to 
 believe they don't exist, wiien they 
 are well walled out, — much." 
 
 Hazel went to work, and with her 
 assistance laid cocoa-pods two wide 
 and three deep, outside the northern 
 and western sides of her leafy bower, 
 and he promised to coinjjlcte the walls 
 by the same means in two days 
 more. 
 
 They all then supped together, and, 
 to oblige him, she ate a little of the 
 terrajiin, and, when they parted for 
 the night, she thanked him, and said,' 
 with a deep blush, " You have been a 
 good friend to me — of late." 
 
 He colored high, and his eyes 
 sparkled with delight ; and she no- 
 ticed, and almost wished she had kept 
 her irraiitude to herself. 
 
 That night, what with her bell-ro])e 
 and her little bit of a Avail, she was
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 99 
 
 somewhat less timorous, and went to 
 sleep early. 
 
 But even in sleep she was watch- 
 ful, and she was awakened by a slight 
 sound in the neigliborhood of the 
 boat. 
 
 She lay watching, but did not stir. 
 
 Piesently she heard a footstep. 
 
 With a stifled cry she bounded up, 
 and her fii'st impulse was to rusli out 
 of the tent. But she conquered this, 
 and, gliding to the south side of her 
 bower, she peered through the palm- 
 leaves, and the first tiling she saw 
 was the figure of a man standing be- 
 tween her ami the boat. 
 
 She drew her breath hard. The 
 outline of the man was somewhat in- 
 distinct. But it was not a savage : the 
 man was clothed ; and his stature be- 
 trayed him. 
 
 He stood still for some time. " He 
 is listening to see if I am awake," 
 said Helen to herself 
 
 The figure moved towards her 
 bower. 
 
 Then all in a moment she became 
 another woman. She did not rely 
 on her bell-rope; she felt it was fast 
 to nothing that could help her. She 
 lookeil round for no weapon ; she 
 trusted to herself She drew herself 
 hastily up, and folded her arms ; her 
 bosom panted, but her cheek never 
 paled. Her modesty was alarmed ; 
 her blood was up, and life or death 
 were nothing to her. 
 
 The footsteps came nearer ; they 
 stopped at her door ,- they went north ; 
 they came back south. The}' kept 
 her in this high-wrought attitude for 
 half an hour. Then they retired 
 softly ; and, when they were gone, she 
 gave way, and fell on her knees, and 
 began to cry hysterically. Then she 
 got calmer, and then she wondered 
 and puzzled herself; but she slept no 
 more that night. 
 
 In the morning she found that the 
 fire was lighted on a sort of shelf 
 close to the boat. Mr. Hazel had cut 
 the shelf and lighted the fire there for 
 Welch's sake, who had complained 
 of cold ia the nitrht. 
 
 Whilst Hazel was gone for the 
 crayfish, Welch asked Helen to go 
 for her prayer-book. She brought it 
 directly, and turned the leaves to lind 
 the prayers for the sick. But she was 
 soon undeceived as to his intention. 
 
 "Sam" had it wrote down how 
 the Proserpine was foundered, and I 
 should like to lie alongside my mess- 
 mate on that there paper, as well as 
 in t' other place" (meaning the 
 grave). "Begin as Sam did, that 
 this is my last word." 
 
 "0, I hope not. O Mr. Welch, 
 pray do not leave me ! " 
 
 " Well, well then, never mind that; 
 but just put down as I heard Sam; 
 and his dying words, that the parson 
 took down, were the truth." 
 
 " I have written that." 
 
 " And that the two holes was on 
 her port-side, and seven foot from her 
 starn-post ; and / say them very 
 augers that is in our cutter made 
 them holes. Set down that." 
 
 " It is down." 
 
 " Then I '11 put my mark imder it ; 
 and you are my witness." 
 
 Helen, anxious to please him in 
 everything, showed him where to put 
 his mark. He did so ; and she signed 
 her name as his witness. 
 
 " And now, Mr. Welch," said she, 
 " do not you fret about the loss of the 
 ship ; you should rather think how 
 good Providence has been to us in 
 saving us three out of so many that 
 sailed in that poor ship. That 
 Wylie was a wicked man ; but he 
 is drowned, or starved, no doul)t, 
 and there is an end of him. You 
 are alive, and we are all three to see 
 Old England again. But to live, 
 you must eat ; and so now do pray 
 make a good breakfast to-day. Tell 
 me what you can fancy. A cab- 
 bage ? " 
 
 " What, you own it is a cabbage 1 " 
 
 " Of course I do," said Helen, 
 coaxing. " You must excuse Mr. 
 Hazel ; these learned men are so 
 crotchety in some things, and go by 
 books ; but you and I go by our 
 senses, and to us a cabbage is a cab-
 
 100 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 bape, jjrow where it will. Will you 
 have one '? " 
 
 " No, miss, not this morning. 
 What I wants this morning very 
 bad, indi'cil, it is, — I wants a drink 
 made of the swect-snielling leaves, 
 like as yon stiewed over my mess- 
 mate, — the Lord in heaven bless vou 
 for it." 
 
 " O Mr. Welch, that is a curious 
 fancy; hut you shall not ask me 
 twice for anything; the jungle is full 
 of them, and I '11 fetch you some in 
 five minutes. So you must boil the 
 water." 
 
 She scudded away to the jungle, 
 and soon returned with some aromatic 
 leaves. Whilst they were infusing, 
 Hazel came up, and, on being in- 
 foi'med of Welch's fancy, nuide no 
 opposition ; but, on the contrary, said 
 that sucii men had sometimes very 
 happy inspirations. He tasted it, 
 however, and said the smell was the 
 best part of it in his opinion. He 
 then put it aside to cool for the sick 
 man's use. 
 
 They ate their usual breakfast, and 
 then Welch sipped his spiced tea, as 
 he called it. Morning and afternoon 
 he drank copious draughts of it, and 
 seemed to get suddenly better, and 
 told them not to hang almut him any 
 longer ; but go to their work : he was 
 all right now. 
 
 To humor him they went off in 
 ditliirent directions ; Hazel with his 
 axe to level cocoa-nut trees : and 
 Helen to search for fruits in the 
 jungle. 
 
 She came back in about an hour, 
 very proud of some pods she iuirl 
 found witii nutmegs inside them. 
 She ran to Welch. He was not in 
 the boat. She saw his waistcoat, 
 however, folded and lying on the 
 thwart : so she knew he could not he 
 far off, and concluded he was in her 
 bower. But be was not there ; and 
 she called to Mr. Hazel. He came to 
 the side of the river laden with cocoa- 
 nuts. 
 
 " Is he with vou ? " said Helen. 
 
 "Who? Welch? No." 
 
 "Well, then, he is not here. O 
 dear ! something is the matter." 
 
 Hazel came across directly. And 
 they both began to run anxiously to 
 every part whence they could com- 
 mand a view to any distance. 
 
 Tiiey could not see kim anywhere, 
 and met with blank faces at the 
 bower. 
 
 Then Helen made a discovery. 
 
 This very day, while hanging about 
 the place. Hazel hud torn up from 
 the edge of the river an old trutd<, 
 wliose roots had been loosened by the 
 water washing away the caith that 
 held them, and this stump he had set 
 up in her bower for a tahle, after saw- 
 ing the roots down into legs. Well, 
 on the smooth part of this table lay a 
 little ])ilc of money, a ring with a large 
 |)earl in it, and two gold ear-rings, Hel- 
 en had oltcn noticed in Welch's ears. 
 
 She pointed at these and turned 
 pale. Then, suddenly waving her 
 hand to Hazel to follow her, she darted 
 out of the bower, and, in a moment, 
 she was at the boat. 
 
 There she found, beside his waist- 
 coat, his knitc, and a liitle pile of 
 money, placed carefully on the thwart; 
 and, underneath it, his jacket rolled 
 up, and his shoes and sailor's cap, all 
 put neatly and in order. 
 
 Hazel found her looking at them. 
 He began to have vague misgivings. 
 '' Wiiat does this mean i " he said, 
 faintly. 
 
 " ' What does it mean ! ' " cried 
 Helen, in acony. " Hon't you see? 
 A Legacy ! The poor thing has 
 divided liis little all. O my heart! 
 What has become of him ! Tlien, 
 wiih one of those inspirations her sex 
 have, she cried, " Ah ! Cooper's 
 grave ! " 
 
 Hazel, though not so quick as she 
 was, caught her meaning at a word, 
 and flew down tiie slope to the sea- 
 shore. The tide was out : a long 
 irregular track of footsteps indented 
 the saiul. He stojjjjcd a moment and 
 looked at them. Tiiey pointed to- 
 wards that cleft where the grave was. 
 He followed them all across the saud.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 101 
 
 They entered the cleft, and did not 
 return. Full of lieavv foruboduig he 
 ruslicd into the cleft. 
 
 Yes ; his arms hanging on each 
 side of the grave, and iiis choei< laid 
 gently on it, there lay Tom Welch, 
 with a loving smile on his dead face. 
 Only a man ; yet faithful as a dog. 
 
 Hazel went back slowly, and cry 
 ing. Of all mtm living, he could 
 best appreciate Eidelity, and mourn : 
 its fate. j 
 
 But, as he drew near Helen, he 
 dried his eyes ; for it was his duty to i 
 comfort her. 
 
 She had at first endeavored to 
 follow him ; but after a few steps her 
 knees smote together, and she was 
 fain to sit down on the grassy slojjo 
 tint overlooked the sea. 
 
 The sun was setting huge and 
 red over that vast and peaceful sea. 
 
 She put her hands to her head, 
 and, sick at heart, looked heavily at 
 that glorious and peaceful sight. 
 Plazel came up to her. She looked 
 at his face, and that look was enough 
 for her. She rocked herself gently to 
 and fro. 
 
 " Yes," said he, in a broken voice : 
 " he was there, — quite dead." 
 
 He sat gently down by her side, 
 and looked at that setting sun and 
 illimitable ocean, and his heart felt 
 deadly sad. "He is gone, — and 
 we are alone, — on this island." 
 
 The man said this in one .sense 
 only : but the woman heard it in 
 more than one. 
 
 Alone ! 
 
 She glanced timidly round at him, i 
 and, without risinij, edged a little j 
 away from him, and wept in silence. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 After a long silence. Hazel 
 asked her in a low voice if she could 
 be there in half an hour. She said 
 yes, in the same tone, but without 
 turning her head. On reaching the 
 graves, she found that Hazel had 
 
 spared her a sad sight ; nothing re- 
 mained but to perform the service. 
 When it was over she went slowly away 
 in deep distress on more accounts than 
 one. In due course Hazel came to her 
 bower, hut she was not there Tiien 
 he lighted the tire, and prepared 
 everything for supper ; and he was 
 so busy, and her foot so light, he did 
 not hear her come. But by and hy, 
 lifting his head, he saw her looking 
 wistfully at him, as if she would 
 read his soul in his minutest actions. 
 He started and brightened all over 
 with pleasure at the sudden sight of 
 her, and said eagerly, " Your supper 
 is quite ready." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said she, sadly 
 and coldly (she had noted that ex- 
 pression of joy), " I have no appe- 
 tite ; do not wait for me." And 
 soon after strolled away again. 
 
 Hazel was dumfoundered. There 
 was no mistaking her manner; it 
 was chilly and reserved all of a sud- 
 den. It wounded him ; but he be- 
 haved like a man. What! I keep 
 her out of her own house, do I ] said 
 he to him'^elf. He started up, took a 
 fish out of the pot, wrapped it in a 
 leaf, and stalked off to his boat. 
 Then he ate a little of the fish, threw 
 the rest away, and went down upon 
 the sands, and paced them in a sad 
 and hitter mood. 
 
 But the night calmed him, and 
 some hours of tranquil thouiiht 
 brought him fortitude, patience, and 
 a clear understanding. Pie went to 
 his boat, elevated by generous and 
 delicate resolutions. Now worthy re- 
 solves are tranquillizing, and he slept 
 profoundly. 
 
 Not so she, whose sudden but very 
 natural chiuige of demeanor had hurt 
 him. When she returned and found 
 he was gone for the night, she began 
 to be alarmed at having offended him. 
 
 For this and other reasons she 
 passed the night in sore perplexity, 
 and did not sleep till morning ; and so 
 sl'.e overslept her usual tim.e How- 
 ever, when she was up, she determined 
 to find her own breakfast ; she felt it
 
 102 
 
 FOUL TLAY. 
 
 would not do to be too dependent, 
 and on a person of unccitaiii liunior; 
 such for tlic moment slie chose to 
 pretend to herself was Hazel. Ac- 
 cordingly she went down to the sea 
 to look for crayfish. She found 
 abundance. There they lay in the 
 water ; you had but to stoop and 
 pick tlieui up. 
 
 But alas ! they were black, lively, 
 vipcrish ; she went witli no great 
 relish for the task to take one up ; it 
 wngiilcd maliciously ; she dro|iped it, 
 and at that very moment, by a curi- 
 ous coincidence, reuiembjred she was 
 sick and tireil of crayfish ; she would 
 breakfast on fruits. Siie crossed the 
 sand, took off her shoes, and paddled 
 through the river, and, having put on 
 her shoes again, was about to walk 
 up througli some rank grass to the 
 big wood, when she heard a voice 
 behind her, and it was Mr. Hazel. 
 She bit her lip (it was broad daylight 
 now), and prepared quietly to dis- 
 courage tliis excessive assiduity, lie 
 came up to her panting a Utile, and, 
 taking otf his hat, said, with marked 
 respect, " I l>eg your pardon, Miss 
 llolleston, but I know you liate rep- 
 tiles ; now there are a few snakes in 
 that long grass ; not poisonous ones." 
 
 " Snakes ! " cried Helen ; " let me 
 get home ; there, — 1 '11 go without 
 my breakfast." 
 
 " O, 1 hope not," said ILizcl, rue- 
 fully ; " why, I have been rather for- 
 tunate this morning, and it is all 
 ready." 
 
 " That is a different thing," said 
 Helen, graciously ; " you must not 
 have your trouble for notliing, I sup- 
 pose." 
 
 Directly after breakfast, Hazel took 
 his axe and some rope from the 
 boat, and went off' in a great hurry to 
 the jungle. In half an hour or so 
 he returned, dra^-^ging a large conical 
 shrub, armed with spikes for leaves, 
 incieflil)ly dense and prickly. 
 
 " There," .said he, " there's a vege- 
 fc^ble porcupine for you. This is 
 your best defence against that I'oaring 
 Bugbear." 
 
 ! " That little tree ! " said Helen ; 
 " the tiger would soon jump over 
 that." 
 
 " Ay, but not over this and sixty 
 more; a wall of stilettos. Don't 
 touch it, ])lcase." 
 
 He worked very hard all day, and 
 
 brought twelve of these jiiickly trees 
 
 to the bower i)y sunset. He was very 
 
 dissatisfied with his day's work ; 
 
 j seemed quite mortified. 
 
 " This comes of begiiming at the 
 I wrong end," he said; "I went to 
 [ work like a fool. I should have be- 
 gun by mnking a cart." 
 
 "But you can't do tl)at," said 
 Helen, soothingly ; " no gentleman 
 can make a cart." 
 
 '• O, surely anybody can make a 
 cart, by a little thinking," said he. 
 
 "I "wish," said Helen, listlessly, 
 "you would think of something for 
 7ne to do ; I begin to be ashamed of 
 not helping." 
 
 " Hum ! you can plait '^ " 
 
 " Yes, as far as seven strands." 
 
 " Then j-ou need never be unem- 
 ployed. We want ropes, and sh;dl 
 want larce mats for the rainy weather." 
 
 He went to the place wiiere he had 
 warned her of the snakes, and cut a 
 great bundle of long silky grass, sur- 
 prisingly tough, yet neither harsh nor 
 juicy ; he brought it her, and said he 
 s!)ould be very glad of a hundred 
 yards of light coid, three ply and five 
 
 ply- 
 
 tShe was charmed with the grass, 
 and the very next morning she came 
 to breakfast with it nicely prepared, 
 and a good deal of cord made and 
 hanging round her neck. She found 
 some preparations for carjienter's 
 work lying about. 
 
 " Is "that great log for the cart?" 
 said she. 
 
 " Yes ! it is a section of a sago- 
 tree." 
 
 " What, our sago ? " 
 
 " The basis. See, in the centre it 
 is all soft pith." He got from the 
 boat one of the augers that had scut- 
 tled the Proserpine, and soon turned 
 the pith out. " They pound that pith
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 103 
 
 in water, and run it through linen ; 
 then set the wiiter in the sun to evap- 
 orate. The sediment is the sago 
 of commerce, and sad insipid stuff it 
 is." 
 
 " please don't call anythiutj 
 names one has eaten in England," 
 said Helen, sorrow!\illy. 
 
 After a hasty meal, she and Mr. 
 Hazel worked for a wager. Her taper 
 fingers went like the wind, and though 
 she watclied liim, and asked ques- 
 tions, she never stopped plaiting. 
 Mr. Hazel was no carpenter, he was 
 merely Brains spurred by Necessity. 
 He went to work and sawed ofi' four 
 short disks of the sago-log. 
 
 "Now what arc those, prayl" 
 asked Helen. 
 
 " The wheels : primeval wheels. 
 And here are the linchpins, made of 
 hard wood ; I wattled them at odd 
 times." 
 
 He then produced two young lime- 
 trees he had rooted up that morning, 
 and sawfd them into poles in a min- 
 ute. Then he bored two holes in each 
 pole, about four inches from either 
 extremity, and fitted his linchpins ; 
 then he drew out his linchpins, passed 
 each pole first through one disk, and 
 then through another, and fastened 
 his linchpins. Then he ran to the 
 boat, and came back with the stern 
 and midship thwarts. He drilled with 
 his centre-bit three rows of holes in 
 these, two inches from the ed-^e : and 
 now Helen's work came in ; her grass 
 rope bound the thwarts tight to the 
 horizontal poles, leaving tlie disks 
 room to play easily between the 
 thwarts and the linclipins ; but there 
 was an open space thirteen inches 
 broad between the thwarts ; this space 
 Hazel herring-boned over with some 
 of Helen's rope drawn as tight as 
 possible. The cart was now made. 
 Time occupied in its production, three 
 hours and forty minutes. 
 
 The coachmaker was very hot : and 
 Helen asked him timidly whether he 
 had not better rest and eat, " No time 
 for that," said he. " The day is not 
 half long enough for what I have to 
 
 do." He drank copiously from the 
 stream ; put the carpenter's basket 
 into the cart : got the tow-rope from 
 die boat and fastened it to tlie cart in 
 this shape /\, putting himself in the 
 centre. So now the coachmaker was 
 the horse, and oft' they went, rattling 
 and creaking, to the jungle. 
 
 Helen turned her stool and watched 
 this pageant enter the jungle. She 
 plaited on, but not so merrily. Ha- 
 zel's companionship and bustling way 
 somehow kept her spirits up. 
 
 But, whenever she was left alone, 
 she gazed on the blank ocean, and her 
 heart died within her. At last she 
 strolled pensively towards the jungle, 
 |)laiting busily as she went, and hang- 
 ing the rope round her neck as fast as 
 she made it. 
 
 At the edge of the jungle she found 
 Hazel in a difficulty. He had cut 
 down a wagon-load of prickly trees, 
 and wanted to get all this mass of 
 noli vie tangere on to that wretched 
 little cart, but had not rope enough 
 to keep it together : she gave him 
 plent\' of new line, and partly by fast- 
 ening a small rope to the big rope 
 and so making the big rope a re- 
 ceptacle, partly by artful tying, they 
 dragged home an incredible load. To 
 be sure some of it draggled half along 
 the ground : and came after, like a 
 peacock's tail. 
 
 He made six trips, and then the 
 sun was low ; so he began to binld. 
 He raised a rampart of these prickly 
 trees, a rampart three feet wide and 
 eight feet high ; but it only went 
 round two sides and a half of the 
 bower. So then he said he had 
 failed again ; and lay down worn out 
 by fatigue. 
 
 'Helen RoUeston, though dejected 
 herself, could not help pitying him 
 for his exhaustion in her service, and 
 for his bleeding hands : she undertook 
 the cooking, and urged him kindly to 
 eat of every dish ; and, when he rose 
 to go, she thanked him with as much 
 feeling as modesty for the great pains 
 he had taken to lessen those fears of 
 hers which she saw he did not share.
 
 104 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 These kimls words more than re- 
 paid liini. He went to his little den 
 ill :v <;low of spirits ; and tiie next 
 morning went oft" in a violent hurry, 
 and, for onee, seemed ylad to got 
 away i'roin her. 
 
 " I'oor Mr. Hazel," said she, softly, 
 and waiehcd him out of sight. Then 
 she got her plait, and went to the 
 liigli jioint where he had barked a 
 tree; and looked far and wide for a 
 sail. The air was M-onderfiilJy elear ; 
 the whole ocean seemed in sight ; but 
 all was blank. 
 
 A great awe fell n])on her, and 
 sickness of heart ; and tiien lirst siie 
 began to fear she was out of the 
 known world, and might die on that 
 island ; or never be found i)y the pres- 
 ent generation : an 1 this sickening 
 fear lurked in her from that hour, luni 
 led to eonseciuenccs that will be re- 
 lated shortly. 
 
 She did not return for a long while, 
 and, when she did, she found Ha- 
 zel had completed her fortifications. 
 He invited her to explore the west- 
 ern ]iart of the island, but she de- 
 clined. 
 
 " Thank you," said she ; " not to- 
 day ; there is something to be done 
 at home. I have been comparing my 
 abode with yours, and the contrast 
 makes me uncomfortable, if it doesn't 
 you. Oblige me by building yourself 
 a house." 
 
 " Wiiat, in an afternoon ? " 
 
 " Why not ? you made a cart in a 
 forenoon. How can I tell your limits ? 
 you are quite out of my poor little 
 dejith. Well, at all events, you must 
 roof the boat, or something. Come, 
 be good for onee, and think a little 
 of yourself. There, I '11 sit by and — 
 what shall I do whilst you are work- 
 ing to oblige me '. " 
 
 " Make a fishing-net of cocoa-nut 
 fibre, four feet deep. Here 's jilenty 
 of material all prepared." 
 
 " Why, .Mr. Hazel, you must work 
 in your sleep." 
 
 " No ; but of cour.se I am not idle 
 when I am alone ; and luckily 1 have 
 made a spade out of hard wood at 
 
 odd hours, or all the afternoon would 
 go ill making that." 
 
 " A spade ! You arc going to dig 
 a hole in the ground and call it a 
 house. That will not do for me." 
 
 " You will see," said Hazel. 
 
 The boat lay in a little iriangnlar 
 creek ; the surrounding earth was 
 alluvial clay ; a .«ort of black cheesy 
 mould, stiff, but kindly to work with 
 the spade. Hazel cut -and chiselled 
 it out at a grand rate, and, throwing 
 it to the sides, raised by ilegrees two 
 mud banks, one on each side the 
 boat ; and at last he dug so deep that 
 lie was enabled to draw the boat an- 
 other yard inland. 
 
 As Helen sat by netting and for- 
 cing a smile now and tlicn, though sad 
 at heart, he was on his mettle, and 
 the mud walls he raist'd in four hours 
 were really wonderful. He s(piared 
 their inner sides with the. spade. 
 When he had tione, the boat lay in a 
 hollow, the walls of which, half nat- 
 ural, half artificial, were five feet 
 above her gunwale, and, of course, 
 ci;;ht feet above her bottom, in which 
 Hazel used to lie at night. He then 
 niatle anoiher little wall at the boat's 
 stern, and laid palm-branches over all, 
 and a few huge banana-leaves fioin 
 the jungle ; got a dozen largo stones 
 out of the river, tied four yard's- 
 lengths of Helen's grass-rope from 
 stone to stone, and so, pa^sing the 
 ropes over the roof, confine<l it, oth- 
 erwise a sudden gust of wind might 
 lift it. 
 
 " There," said he ; " am I not as 
 well off as you ? — I, a great tough 
 man. Abominable waste of lime, I 
 call it." 
 
 " Hum ! " said Helen, doubtfully. 
 " All this is very clever; but I doubt 
 whether it will keep out much rain." 
 
 " More than yours will," said Ha- 
 zel, " and that is a very serious thing. 
 I am afraid you little know how seri- 
 ous. But, to-morrow, if you jilcase, I 
 will examine our resources, and lay 
 our whole siaiation before you. and 
 ask your advice. As to your Bug- 
 bear, let him roar his heart out, his
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 105 
 
 rcifrn is over. Will you not come 
 and sec yriur wooden walls 1 " 
 
 He then took Helen and showed 
 her the tremendous nature of her for- 
 tification, and assured her tliat no 
 bea>t of [jrey could face it, nor even 
 smell at it, with impunity. And as 
 to the door, here the defence was 
 double and treble ; but attached to four 
 grass cords ; two passed into the abode 
 round each of the screw pine-trees at 
 the cast side, and were kept in their 
 places by pegs driven into the trees. 
 
 " VViien you are up," said Hazel, 
 " you pull these four cords steadily, 
 and your four guards will draw back 
 right and left, with all their bayonets, 
 and you can come out." 
 
 Helen was very much pleased with 
 this arrauLremcnt, and did not disguise 
 her gratitude. She slept in peace and 
 comfort that night. Hazel, too, prof- 
 ited by the mud walls and leafy roof 
 she had compelled him to rear ; for 
 this night was colder, as it happened, 
 than any preceding- night since they 
 came ashore. In the morning, Hazel 
 saw a-green turtle onthesliore, which 
 was unusual at that time of year. 
 He ran and turned her, with some 
 difficulty ; then brought down his 
 cart, cut off her head with a blow, 
 and, in due course, dragged her up 
 the slope. Siie weighed two hundred 
 pound-j. He showed Miss Rolleston 
 the enormous shell, gave her a lecture 
 on turtles, and especially on the four 
 species known to South Sea navi- 
 gators, — the trunk turtle, the logger- 
 bend, the green turtle, and the hawk*- 
 bill, from which last, and not from 
 any tortoise, he assured her came the 
 tortoise-shell of commerce. 
 
 •' And now," said he, " will you 
 not give up or suspend your Reptile 
 theory, and eat a little green turtle, 
 the king of tlicm all ? " 
 
 " I think I must, after all that," said 
 she ; and rather relished it. 
 
 That morning he kept his word, 
 and laid their case before her. 
 
 He said : " We are here on an 
 island that has probably been seen 
 and disregarded by a few whalers, but 
 
 is not kno^^Ti to navigators nor down 
 on any chart. There is a wide range 
 of vegetation, proving a delightful cli- 
 mate on the whole, and one particu- 
 larly suited to you, whose lungs are 
 delicate. But 'then, comparing the 
 beds of the rivers with the banks, a 
 tremendous fall of rain is indicated. 
 The rainy months (in these latitudes) 
 are at liand, and if these rains catch 
 us in our present condition, it will be 
 a calamity. You have walls, but no 
 roof to keep it out. I tremble whea 
 I think of it. Tiiis is my main anx- 
 iety. My next is about our sustc- 
 nincc during the rains ; we have no 
 stores under cover ; no fuel ; no pro- 
 visions but a few cocoa-nuts. We 
 use two lucifer matches a day; and 
 what is to become of us at that rate 1 
 In theory, fire can be got by rul)bing 
 two pieces of wood together ; Selkirk 
 is said to have so obtained it from pi- 
 mento wood on Juan Fernandez; 
 but, in fact, I believe the art is con- 
 fined to savages.- I never met a civil- 
 ized man who could do it, and I have 
 questioned scores of voyagers. As 
 for my weapons, they consist of a 
 boat-hook and an axe ; no gun, no 
 harpoon, no bow, no lance. My tools 
 are a blunt saw, a l)luntcr axe, a 
 wooden spade, two great augers, that 
 I believe had a hand in bringing us 
 here, but have not been any use to us 
 since, a centre-bit, two planes, a ham- 
 mer, a pair of pincers, two brad-awls, 
 three gimlets, two scrapers, a plumb- 
 lead and line, a large pair of scissors, 
 and you have a small pair, two gauges, 
 a screw-driver, five clasp-knives, a few 
 screws and nails of various sizes, two 
 small barrels, two bags, two tin bowls, 
 two wooden bowls, and the shell of 
 this turtle, and that is a very good 
 soup-tureen, only we have no meat to 
 make soup with." 
 
 "Well, sir," said ^Miss "Rolleston, 
 resi'i-nedly, "we can but kneel down 
 and die." 
 
 " That would be cutting the gor- 
 dian knot, indeed," said Hazel. 
 " What, die to shirk a few difficulties ? 
 No. 1 propose an amendment to
 
 106 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 that. After the worJs 'kneel down/ 
 insert the words, ' and <ret np again, 
 trusting; in th.it mercii'ul Providence 
 which has saved us so far, but ex])ects 
 us to exert ourselves too. ' " 
 
 "It is good and jjious advice," 
 said Helen, " and let us follow it this 
 moment." 
 
 " Now, said Hazel, " I have three 
 propositions to lay before you. 1st, 
 That 1 heieby give up walking and 
 take to running ; time is so precious. 
 2d, That we both work by night as 
 well as day. 3d, Tliat we each tell 
 tlie other onr princip;d wants, so that 
 there may be four eyes on the lookout, 
 as we go, instead of two." 
 
 "I consent," said Helen; "pray 
 what are your wants ? " 
 
 " Iron, oil, salt, tar, a bellows, a 
 pickaxe, planks, thread, nets, light 
 matting for roofs, bricks, chimney- 
 pots, jars, glass, animal food, some 
 variety of vegetable food, and so on. 
 I'll write down the entire list for 
 
 you." 
 
 " You will be puzzled to do that 
 without ink or paper." 
 
 " Not in the least. I shall engrave 
 it in alto-ri/ievo, make the words with 
 pebbles on the turf just above high- 
 water mark. Now tell me your 
 wants." 
 
 " Well, I want — impossibilities." 
 
 " Enumerate them." 
 
 " What is the use ? " 
 
 " It is the method we liave agreed 
 upon." 
 
 "0, very well, then. I want — a 
 sponge." 
 
 " Good. What next ? " 
 
 " I iiave broken my comb." 
 
 "Good." 
 
 " I 'm glad you think so. I want — 
 Mr. Hazel, wliat is the use? — 
 well, I should like a mattress to lie on." 
 
 " Hair or wool ? " 
 
 " I don't care which. And it is a 
 shame to ask you for eitlier." 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " I want a looking-glass." 
 
 " Great Heaven ! What for ? " 
 
 " O, never mind : I want one ; and 
 
 some more towels, and some soap, 
 and a few hair-pins ; and some clastic 
 l)ands ; and some ])en, ink, and paper, 
 to write my ferlings down in this isl- 
 and for nobody ever to see." 
 
 When she began Hazel looked 
 bright, but tlie li>t was like a wasp, its 
 sting lay in its tail. However, he put 
 a good face on it. " I 'II try and get 
 you all those things: only' give me 
 time. Do you know I am writing a 
 dictionary on a novel method." 
 
 " That means on the sand." 
 
 " No ; the work is suspended for 
 the present. But two of the defini- 
 tions in it are, — Difficulties, — 
 things to be subdued ; Impossibih- 
 TiKS, — tilings to be trampled on." 
 
 " Well, subdue mine. Trample oa 
 — a sponge for me." 
 
 " That is just wliat I M'as going to 
 do." said he : opened a clasp-knife 
 and jumped coolly into the river. 
 
 Helen screamed faintly, but after all 
 the water was only up to his knees. 
 
 He soon cut a large sponge off a 
 piece of slimy rock, and hchl it np to 
 her. " There," said he, " why, there 
 are a score of them at your very door, 
 and you never saw them ? " 
 
 " O. excuse me, I did see them, and 
 shuddered ; I thought they were rep- 
 tiles ; dormant, and biding their time." 
 
 When be was out of the river again, 
 she tlioui:bt a little, and asked liim 
 wheilier old iron would be of any use 
 to him. 
 
 " O, certainly," said he ; " what do 
 you know of any ? " 
 
 " I think I saw some one day. I '11 
 go and look for it." 
 
 She took the way of the shore ; 
 and he got his cart and spade, and 
 went post-haste to his clay-])it. 
 
 He made a quantity of bricks, and 
 brought them home, and put them 
 to dry in the sun. He also cut 
 grc.it pieces of the turtle, and wrapped 
 them in fresh iianana-leaves, and en- 
 closed them in clay. He then tried to 
 make a large narrow-necked vessel, 
 and failed utterly ; so he made the 
 clay into a great rude platter like a 
 shallow milk-pan. Then he peeled
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 107 
 
 the sago-loo;, off which he had cut his 
 whtels, and rubbed it with turtle-fat, 
 and, using it as a form, produced two 
 clay cylinders. Tbese he set in the 
 sun, with bricks round them to keep 
 them from falling. Leaving all these 
 to dry and set before he baked tliem, 
 he went otf to tlie marsh for fern- 
 leaves. The soil being so damp, the 
 trees were covered with a brownish- 
 red-substance, scarce distinguishable 
 from wool. This he had counted on. 
 But he also found in the same neigh- 
 borhood a long cypress-haired moss 
 that seemed to him very promising, 
 lie made several trips, and raised quite 
 a stack of fern-leaves. By this time 
 the sun had operated on his thinner 
 pottery ; so he laid down six of his 
 large thick tiles, and lighted a fire on 
 them with dry banana-leaves, and 
 cocoa-nut, etc., and such light com- 
 bustii)les, until he had heated and 
 hardened the clay ; thi'n he put the 
 ashes on one side, and swept the clay 
 clean ; then he put the tire on again, 
 and made it hotter and hotter, till the 
 clay began to redden. 
 
 While he was thus occupied, Miss 
 Rolleston came from the jungle ra- 
 diant, carrying vegetable treasures in 
 her apron. First she produced some 
 golden apples with reddish leaves. 
 
 " There," said she ; " and they 
 smell delicious." 
 
 Hazel eyed them keenly. 
 
 " You have not eaten any of them 1 " 
 
 "What! by myself?" said Helen. 
 
 "Thank Heaven!" said Hazel, 
 turning pale. " These are the man- 
 chanilla, the poison apple of the Pa- 
 citic." 
 
 " Poison ! " said Helen, alarmed in 
 her turn. 
 
 " Well, I don't know that they are 
 poison ; but travellers give them a 
 very bad name. The birds never peck 
 them ; and I have read that even the 
 leaves falling into still water have 
 killed the fisli. You will not eat any- 
 thing here till yon have shown it me, 
 will yoa 1 " said he, imploringly. 
 
 " No, no," said Helen ; and sat 
 down with her hand to her heart a 
 
 minute. " And I was so pleased 
 when I found them," she said ; " they 
 reminded me of home. I wonder 
 whether these are poison, too ? " and 
 she opened her apron wide, and 
 showed him some long yellow pods, 
 with red specks, something like a 
 very Inrge banana. 
 
 " Ah, that is a very different affair," 
 said Hazel, delighted ; " these are 
 plantains, and the greatest find we 
 have made yet. The fruit is meat, 
 the wood is thread, and the leaf is 
 shelter and clothes. The fruit is good 
 raw, and better baked, as yon shall 
 see, and I believe this is the first time 
 the dinner and the dish were both 
 baked together." 
 
 He cleared the now heated hearth, 
 put the meat and fruit on it, then 
 placed his great platter over it, and 
 heaped fire round the platter, and light 
 combustibles over it. Whilst this was 
 going on, Helen took him to her bower, 
 and showed him three rusty iron 
 hoops, and a piece of rotten wood 
 with a rusty nail, and the marks where 
 others had been. " There," said she ; 
 " that is all I could find." 
 
 " Why, it is a treasure," cried he ; 
 "you will see. I have found some- 
 thing, too." 
 
 He then showed her the vegetable 
 wool and vegetable hair he had col- 
 lected, and told her where they grew. 
 She owned they were wonderful imi- 
 tations, and would do as well as the 
 real things ; and, ere they had done 
 comparing notes, the platter and the 
 dinner under it were both baked. 
 Hazel removed the ])latter or milk- 
 pan, and served the dinner in it. 
 
 If Hazel was inventive, Helen was 
 skilful and quick at any kind of wo- 
 man's work ; and the following is the 
 result of the three weeks' work under 
 his direction. She had made as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 I. Thick mattress, stuffed with the 
 vegetable hair and wool described 
 above. The mattress was only two 
 feet six inches wide ; for Helen found 
 that she never turned in bed now. 
 She slept as she had never slept be-
 
 108 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 fore. This mattress was made with 
 plaintain-icavcs sewed toj.'Cther with 
 tlie tliread furnislied by the tiee itself, 
 and doubled at the ed^es. 
 
 2. A loii^^ .siialiow net four feet 
 deep, — eoeoa fibre. 
 
 3. A great quantity of stout grass- 
 rope, and light but close matting for 
 tlie roof, and some cocoa-nut nuitting 
 fur the ground, and to go under the 
 mattress. Eut Hazel, instructed by her, 
 had learned to plait, — ratherclunisily, 
 — and lie had a hand in the matting. 
 
 Hazel in the mean time heightened 
 his own mud banks in tlie centre, and 
 set up brick tirephues witii heartii and 
 ciiimney, one on each side ; and now 
 did all tlie cooking ; for he found the 
 smoke from wood made Miss Kolles- 
 ton cough. lie also made a number 
 of pigeon-holes in his mud walls and 
 lined them with clay. One of these 
 he dried with tire, and made a jiottery 
 door to it, and there kept the lucifer- 
 box. He made a vast number of 
 hricks, but did nothing with them. 
 After several failures lie made two 
 large pots, and two great pans, that 
 would all four bear fire under them, 
 and in the pans he boiled sea-water 
 till it all eva])Orated and left him a 
 sediment of salt. This was a great 
 addition to their food, and he managed 
 also to put by a little. But it was a 
 slow process. 
 
 lie made a hu£:e pair of bellows, 
 with a little assistance from Miss Ilol- 
 leston ; the spout was a sago stick, 
 with the pith driven out, and the sub- 
 stitute for leather was the skin of a 
 huge eel he found stranded at the east 
 point. 
 
 Having got his bellows and fixed 
 them to a post he drove into the 
 ground, he took for his anvil a huge 
 flint stone, and a smaller one for ham- 
 mer : iicated his old iron to a white 
 heat, and hammered it with a world 
 of trouble into straight lengths ; and 
 at last with a portion of it produccil a 
 long saw without tecih, but one side 
 sharper than the other. This, by re- 
 peated exprrimcnts of heating and 
 immersing iu water, lie at last an- 
 
 nealed ; and when he wanted to saw, 
 he blew his embers to a white heat 
 (he kept the tire alive now idgbt and 
 day) ; heated his original saw red-hot, 
 and soon sawed through the oleagi- 
 nous woods of that island. If he want- 
 ed to cut down a tree in the jungle, 
 he put the bellows and a pot of em- 
 bers on his cart with other fuel, and 
 came and lighted the (ire under the 
 tree and soon had it down. He made 
 his pickaxe in half an hour, but with 
 his eyes rather than his hands. He 
 found a young tree growing on the 
 rock, or at least on soil so shallow 
 that the root was half above ground 
 and at right angles to the stem. He 
 got this tree u|), shortened the stem, 
 shaped the root, shod the point with 
 some of his late old iron ; and with 
 this primitive tool, and a thick stake 
 baked at the point, he opened the 
 ground to receive twelve stout up- 
 rijihts, and he drove them with a tre- 
 mendous mallet inade upon what 
 might be called the compendious or 
 Hazelian method ; it was a section of 
 a hard tree with a thick shoot grow- 
 ing out of it, which shoot, being short- 
 ened, served for the handle. By these 
 arts he at last saw a goal to his la- 
 bors. Animal food, oil, pitch, ink, 
 pa]jer, were still wanting ; but fish 
 were abundant, and jdantains and 
 cocoa-nuts stored. Above all, Helen's 
 hut was now weather-tight. Stout 
 horizontal bars were let into the trees, 
 and, being bound to the uprights, 
 they mntnally sn))poricd each other; 
 smaller horizontal bars at intervals 
 kept the prickly ranqiarts from being 
 driven in by a sudden gust. The can- 
 vas walls were removed, and the nails 
 stored in a pigeon-hole, and a stout 
 network substituted, to which huge 
 ]ilantain-leaves were cunningly fas- 
 tened with ])lantain-tlirciid. The roof 
 was double : <irst, that extraordinary 
 mass of spiked leaves which the four 
 trees threw out, then several feet un- 
 der that the huge piece of matting the 
 pair had made. This was strength- 
 ened by double strips of canvas at the 
 edges and iu the centre, and by singlo
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 109 
 
 strips in other parts. A great in any 
 cords ami strinjis made of that won- 
 derful grass were sewn to the canvas- 
 strengtliened edges, and so it was fast- 
 ened to tlie trees, and fastened to the 
 horizontal bars. 
 
 When this work drew close to its 
 conijdetion, Hazel could not disguise 
 his satisfaction. 
 
 But he very soon had the mortifi 
 cation of seeing that she for whom it 
 was all done did -not share his toin- 
 phicency. 
 ^ A change took place in her; site 
 
 often let lier work fall, and brooded. 
 She spoke sometimes sh;M'ply to Mr. 
 Hazel, and somL'times with strained 
 civility. S!ie wandered away from 
 him, and from his labors for her com- 
 fort, and pa-ised hours at Telegraph 
 Point, eying the illimitable ocean. 
 She was a Riddle. All sweetness at 
 times, but at others irritable, moody, 
 and scarce mistress of herself. Hazel 
 was sorry and perplexed, and often 
 c.x])rossed a fear she was ill. The 
 answer was always in the negative. 
 He did not press her, but worked on 
 for her, hoping the mood would pass. 
 And so it would, no doubt, if the 
 cause had not remained. 
 
 Matters were still in this uncomfort- 
 able and mysterious state wh^n Hazel 
 put his finishing stroke to lier abode. 
 
 He was in liiuli spirits that even- 
 ing : for he had made a discovery ; 
 he had at last found time for a walk, 
 and followed the river to its source, a 
 very remarkable lake in a hilly 
 basin. Near this was a pond, the 
 water of which he had tasted ami 
 found it highly bituminous ; and, 
 making further researches, he had 
 found at the bottom of a rocky ravine 
 a very wonderful thing, — a dark 
 resinous fluid bui)bling up in quite a 
 fountain, which, however, fell down 
 attain as it rose, and iiardly any over- 
 flowed. It was like thin jMtch. 
 
 Of course, in another hour he was 
 back there witli a great pot, and half 
 filled it. It was not lilce water : it 
 did not bubble so high when some 
 had been taken: so he just took what 
 
 he could get. Pursuing his re- 
 searches a little farther he found a 
 range of rocks with snowy summits 
 apparently; but the snow was the 
 guano of centuries. He got to the 
 western extremity of the island, saw 
 another deep bay or rather branch of 
 the sea, and on the other side of it a 
 tongue of high land running out to 
 sea: on that promoiitory stood a 
 gigantic palm-tree. He recognized 
 that with a certain thrill, but was in a 
 great hurry to get home with his pot 
 of pitch ; for it was in truth a very 
 reinarkable discovery, though not 
 without a parallel. He could not 
 wait till morning, so with embei'S and 
 cocoa-nut lie made a fire in the bower, 
 and melted his pitch which had be- 
 come nearly solid, and proceeded to 
 smear the inside of the matting in 
 places, to make it thoroughly water- 
 tight. 
 
 Helen treated the discovery at first 
 with mortif3"ing inditi'erence : but he 
 hoped she would apjjreciate Nature's 
 bounty more when she saw the prac- 
 tical use of this extraordinary pro- 
 duction. He endeavored to lead her 
 to that view. She shook her head sor- 
 rowfully. He persisted. She met 
 him with silence. He thought this 
 peevish, and ungrateful to Heaven ; 
 we have all different measures of the 
 wonderful ; and to him a fountain of 
 pitch was a thing to admire greatly 
 and thank God for: he said as much. 
 
 To Helen it was nasty stutt", and 
 who cares where it came from ? She 
 conveyed as much by a shrug of the 
 shoulders, and then gave a sigh that 
 told her mind was far away. 
 
 He was a little mortified, and 
 showed it. 
 
 One word led to another, and at 
 last what had been long fermenting 
 came out. 
 
 " Mr. Hazel," said she, " you and I 
 are at cross purposes. You mean to 
 live here. I do not." 
 
 Hazel left off working and looked 
 greatly perplexed, the attack was so 
 sudden in its form, though it had been 
 a long time threatening. He found
 
 no 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 nothing to say, and she was impatient 
 now to .si)(";ik. her mind, so she replied 
 to iiis look. 
 
 " You are making j'oui-sclf at 
 home here. You are contented. 
 Contented? You are happy in tliis 
 horrihle prison." 
 
 "And why not?" said Hnzel. 
 But he looke<l rather guiliy. " Here 
 are no traitors ; no murderers. The 
 animals arc my friends, and tiio one 
 human being I see makes me better 
 to look at her." 
 
 " iVIr. Hazel, I am in a state of 
 mind, that romantic nonsense jars on 
 me. Be honest with me, and talk 
 to me like a man. I say that you 
 heam all over with happiness and 
 content, and that you — Wow answer 
 me one question ; why have you nev- 
 er liiihted tlie bonfire on Telegraph 
 Point?" 
 
 " Indeed I don't know," said he, 
 submissively. " 1 have been so oc- 
 cupied." 
 
 " You have : and how ? Not in 
 trying to deliver us both from this 
 dreadful situation, but to reconcile 
 me to it. Yes, sir, under pretence 
 (that is a hiirsh word, but I can't 
 help it) of kee[)ing out tlie rain. 
 Your rain is a bugbear; it never 
 rains, it never will rain. You are 
 killing yourself almost to make me 
 comfortable in this place. Comfort- 
 able ? " She began to tremble all 
 over with excitement long restrained. 
 " And do }'ou really su]3posc you 
 can make me live on like this, by 
 building me a nice hut. Do you 
 think I. am all body and no soul, that 
 shelter aiul warmth and enough to 
 cat can keep my heart from breaking, 
 and my cheeks from blushing night 
 and day ? When I wake in the morn- 
 ing I find myself blushing ta my 
 iingers' ends." Then she walked 
 away from him. Then she walked 
 back. " O my dear father, why did 
 I ever leave you ! Keep me here ? 
 make mo live months and years on 
 this island ? Have you sisters ? 
 Have you a mother? Ask yourself, 
 is it likely ? iio ; if you will not 
 
 help me, and tliey don't love mo 
 enough to come and find me and 
 take me home, I '11 go to another 
 home without your help or any 
 man's." Then she rose suddenly to 
 her feet. " I '11 tie my clothes tight 
 round me, and fling myself down 
 from that point on to the sharp rocks 
 below. I '11 find a way from this 
 place to heaven, if there 's no way 
 from it to those I love on earth." 
 
 Then she sank down and rocked 
 herself and sobbed hard. 
 
 The strong passion of this hitherto 
 gentle creature quite frightened her 
 unhappy friend, who knew more of 
 books than women. He lonired to 
 soothe her and comfort her ; but 
 what could he say ? He cried out in 
 ilespair, " My God, can I do nothing 
 for her ? " 
 
 She turned on him like lightning. 
 " You can do anythin!.c : everytliing. 
 You can restore us both to our friends. 
 You can save my life, my reason. 
 For that will go first, I think. What 
 had I done? what had 1 ever done 
 since I was born, to be so brought 
 down ? Was ever an English lady — ? 
 And then I have such an irritation 
 on my skin, all over me. I sometimes 
 wish the tiger would come and tear 
 me all to f)ieccs ; yes, all to pieces." 
 And with that her white tcetli clicked 
 tojicther convulsively. "Do?" said 
 she, darting hack to the point as swift- 
 ly as she had rushed away from it. 
 '"' Why, put down that nasty stuff; 
 and leave off inventing filty Httle 
 trumpery things for me, and do one 
 great thing instead. O, do not fritter 
 that great mind of yours away in 
 painting and patching my ])rison ; 
 but bring it all to bear on getting mc 
 out of my ])rison. Call sea and land 
 to our rescue. Let them know a jjoor 
 girl is here in unheard-of, nnfatiiom- 
 able misery : here, in the middle of 
 this awful ocean." 
 
 Hazel sighed deeply. " No ships 
 seem to ])ass within sight of us," he 
 mutt'red. 
 
 " What does that matter to i/ou? 
 Y^ou arc not a coiumou man ; you are
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Ill 
 
 an inventor. Eoiisc all the powers 
 of your mind. There must be some 
 way. Think for me. Think ! 
 THINK ! or my blood will be on your 
 head." 
 
 Hazel turned pale and put his head 
 in his iiands, and tried to think. 
 
 She leaned tow;wds him with great 
 flashing eyes of purest hazel. 
 
 The problem dropped from his lips 
 a syllable at a time. " To diifuse — 
 intelligence — a hundred leagues from 
 a fixed point — an island ? " 
 
 She leaned towards him with flash- 
 ing expectant eyes. 
 
 But he groaned, and said : " That 
 seems impossible." 
 
 " Then trample on it," said she, 
 bringing his own words against him ; 
 for siie used to remember all he said 
 to her in the day, and ponder it at 
 night, — " trample on it, subdue it, or 
 never speak to me again. Ah, I am 
 an ungrateful wretch to speak so 
 harshly to you. It is my misery, not 
 me. Good, kind Mr. Hazel, pray, 
 pray, pray bring all the powers of that 
 great mind to bear on this one thing, 
 and save a poor girl, to whom you 
 have been so kind, so considerate, so 
 noble, so delicate, so forbearing ; now 
 save me from despair." 
 
 Hysterical sobs cut her short here, 
 and Hazel, whose loving heart she 
 had almost torn out of liis body, could 
 only falter out in a broken voice, that 
 he would oliey her. " I '11 work no 
 more for you at present," said he, 
 "sweet as it has been. I will think 
 instead. I will go this moment be- 
 neath the stars and think all night." 
 
 The young woman was now lean- 
 ing her head languidly back against 
 one of the trees, weak as water after 
 her passion. He cast a look of inef- 
 fable love and pity on lier, and with- 
 drew slowly to think beneath the tran- 
 quil stars. 
 
 Love has set men hard tasks in his 
 time. Whether this was a light one, 
 our reader siiall decide. 
 
 To DIFFUSE INTELLIGENCE FROM 
 A FIXED ISLAND OVER A HUNDRED 
 LEAGUES OF OCEAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 The perplexity into which Hazel 
 was thrown by the outburst of his 
 companion rendered him unable to 
 reduce her demand at once to an in- 
 telligible form. For some moments 
 he seriously employed his mind on the 
 proliiern until it assumed this shape. 
 
 Firstly : I do not know where this 
 ishmd is, having no means of ascer- 
 taining either its latitude or longi- 
 tude. 
 
 Secondly : If I had such a descrip- 
 tion of its locality, how might tiie news 
 be conveyed beyond the limits of the 
 place ? 
 
 As the wildness of Helen's demand 
 broke upon his mind, he smiled sadly, 
 and sat down upon the bank of the 
 little river, near his boat-house, and 
 buried Ids head in his hands. A deep 
 groan burst from Idin, and the tears 
 at last came through his fingers, as in 
 despair he tliought liow vain must be 
 any efi^'ort to content or to conciliate 
 her. Impatient with his own weak- 
 ness he started to his feet, when a 
 hand was laid gently upon his arm. 
 She stood beside him. 
 
 " Mr. Hazel," she said, hurriedly, — 
 her voice was husky, — " do not mind 
 what I have said. I am unreason- 
 able ; and I am sure I ought to feel 
 obliged to you for all the — " 
 
 Hazel tiirned his face towards her, 
 and the moon glistened on the tears 
 that still flowed down his cheeks. He 
 tried to check the utterance of her 
 apology ; but, ere he could master his 
 voice, the girl's cold and constrained 
 features seemed to melt. She turned 
 away, wrung her hands, and, with 
 a sharp quivering cry, she broke 
 forth, — 
 
 " sir ! O Mr. Hazel ! do forgive 
 me. I am not ungrateful, indeed, in- 
 deed, I am not ; but I am mad witii 
 despair. Judge me with compassion. 
 At this moment, those who are very, 
 very dear to me are awaiting my ar- 
 rival in London ; and, when they learn 
 the loss of the Proserpine, how great 
 will be their miserv ! Well, that
 
 112 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 misery is added to mine. Then my 
 poor papa : he will never know how 
 much lie loved me until this news 
 leaehes him. And to think that I 
 am dead to tliem, yet livinj^! livinjij 
 here helplessly, helplessly. Dear, 
 dear Arthur, liow you will suffer for 
 my sake ! O [lapa, jiapa ! shall I never 
 see you again ? " and she wept bit- 
 terly. 
 
 " 1 am helpless citlier to aid or to 
 console vou, xVIiss Kolieston. By the 
 aet of a Divine Providence you were 
 cast upon tliis desolate shore, and hy 
 tlic same Will I was apiiointed to 
 serve and to provide for your welfare. 
 I pray God that he will <::ive ine 
 health and strength to assist you. 
 Good niirht." 
 
 yhe looked timidly at him for a 
 moment, then slowly regained her 
 hut. He had s|;oken coldly, and wiih 
 dignity. She felt humhled, tiie more 
 so that he had only bowed his ac- 
 knowledgment to her apology. 
 
 i'or more than an hour she watclied 
 him, as he paced up and down be- 
 tween the boat-house and the sliore ; 
 then be advanced a little towards her 
 shelter, and she shrank into her bed, 
 after gently closing the door. In a 
 few moments she crept again to j)eep 
 forth, and to see if he were still there, 
 but he had disappeared. 
 
 The following morning Helen was 
 surprised to see the boat riding at 
 anchor in the surf, and Hazel busily 
 engaged on her trim. He was soon 
 on shore, and by her side. 
 
 " I am afraid I must leave you for 
 a day. Miss Kolleston," he said. " I 
 wish to make a circuit of the island ; 
 indeed I ought to have done so many 
 days ago." 
 
 " Is such an expedition necessary ? 
 Surely vou have had enough of the 
 sea." 
 
 " It is very necessary. You have 
 urged me to undertake this enter|)rise. 
 You see, it is the first step towards 
 announcing to all passing vessels our 
 ])resen<-e in this place. I have com- 
 menced o])erations already. See on 
 youder bluff, which I have called 
 
 Telegraph Point, I liave mounted the 
 boat's ensign, and now it floats from 
 the top of the tree beside the bonfire. 
 I carried it there at sunri-iC. Do you 
 see that pole I liave shipped on board 
 the boat ? That is intended as a signal, 
 which shall be exhibited on your great 
 palm-tree. Tlie flag will then stand 
 i'or a signal on the northern coast, and 
 the palm-tree, thus accoutred, will 
 serve for a similar purpose on the 
 western extremity of the island. As 
 I pass along the southern and eastern 
 shores, I propose to select spots where 
 some mark can be erected, stich as 
 may be visible to ships at sea." 
 
 " But will thev remark such sig- 
 nals ? " 
 
 " Be assured they will, if they come 
 within sight of the place." 
 
 Hazel knew that there w;is little 
 chance of such an event; but it was 
 something not to be neglected. He 
 also explained that it was necessary 
 he should arrive at a knowledge of the 
 island, the character of its shores ; 
 and from the sea he could rapidly ob- 
 tain a plan of the place, ascertain 
 wlnit small rivers there might be, and, 
 indeed, see much of its interior; for 
 he judged it to lie not more than ten 
 miles in length, and scarce three in 
 width. 
 
 Helen felt rather disapjiointed that 
 no trace of the emotion he dis])l;iyed 
 on the previous night remained in his 
 manner, or in the ex])ression of his 
 face. She boM'ed her ]icrmi-sion to 
 him rather haughtily, and sat down 
 10 breakfast on some baked yams, and 
 some rough oysters, which he had 
 raked up from the hay while bathing 
 that mortiing. The young man had 
 regained an elasticity of bearing, an 
 independence of tone, to which she 
 was not at all accustomed ; his man- 
 ners were always soft and dei'erential ; 
 but his expression was more firm, and 
 she felt that the reins had been gently 
 removed from her jiossession, and 
 there was a will to guide her which 
 she was bound to acknowledge and 
 obey. 
 
 She did not argue iu tliis wise, for
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 113 
 
 it is not human to reason and to feel 
 at tlie same moment. She felt then 
 instinctively that the man was quietly 
 asserting his superiority, and the child 
 pouted. 
 
 Hazel went ahout his work briskly ; 
 the boat was soon laden with every 
 requisite. Helen watched these prep- 
 arations askance, vexed with the ex- 
 pedition which she had urged liira to 
 make. Then she fell to reflecting on 
 the change that seemed to have taken 
 place in her character ; she, who was 
 once so womanly, so firm, so reason- 
 able, — why had she become so petu- 
 lant, childish, and capricious 1 
 
 The sail was set, and all ready to 
 run the cutter into the surf of the ris- 
 ing tide, when, taking a sudden reso- 
 lution, as it were, Helen came rapidly 
 down, and said, " I will go with you, 
 if you please," half in command and 
 half in doubt. Hazel looked a little 
 surprised, but very pleased ; and then 
 she added, " I hope I shall not be in 
 your way." 
 
 He assured her, on the contrary, 
 that she might be of great assistance 
 to him ; and now with doubled alac- 
 rity he ran out the little vessel and 
 leaped into the prow as she danced 
 over the w.aves. He taught her how 
 to bring the boat's iieacl round with 
 the help of an oar, and, when all was 
 snug, left her at the helm. On reach- 
 ing the mouth of the bay, if it could 
 so be called, he made her remark that 
 it was closed by reefs, except to the 
 north and to the west. The wind be- 
 ing southerly, he had decided to pass 
 to the west, and so they opened the 
 sea ahout half a mile from the shore. 
 
 For about three miles they perceived 
 it consisted of a line of hluffs, cleft at 
 intervals by small narrow bays, the 
 precipitous sides of which were lined 
 with dense foliage. Into these tissures 
 the sea entered with a mournful sound, 
 that died away as it crept up the yel- 
 low sands with which th'se nooks 
 were carpeted. An exclamation from 
 Helen attracted his attention to the 
 horizon on the northwest, where a 
 long Hue of breakers glittered in the 
 8 
 
 sun. A reef or low sandy bay ap- 
 peared to exist in that direction, about 
 tifteen miles away, and something 
 more than a mile in length. As they 
 jn-oceeded, he marked roughly on the 
 side of his tin baler, with the point 
 of a pin borrowed from Helen, the 
 form of the coast line. 
 
 An hour and a half brought them 
 to the northwestern extremity of the 
 island. As they cleared the shelter 
 of the land, the southerly breeze 
 coming with some force across the 
 open sea caught the cutter, and she 
 lay over in a way to inspire Helen 
 Avith alarm ; she was about to let go 
 the tiller, when Hazel seized it, acci- 
 dentally enclosing her hand under the 
 grasp of his own, as he pressed the 
 tiller hard to port. 
 
 " Steady, please ; don't relinquish 
 your hold ; it is all right, — no fear," 
 he cried, as he kept his eye on their 
 sail. 
 
 He held this course for a mile or 
 more, and then, judging with a long 
 tack he could weatlier the southerly 
 side of the island, he put the boat 
 ahout. He took occasion to explain 
 to Helen how this operation was 
 necessary, and she learned the al- 
 phabet of navigation. The western 
 end of their little land now lay before 
 them ; it was about three miles in 
 breadth. For two miles the blutf 
 coast line continued unbroken ; then 
 a deep bay, a mile in width and two 
 miles in depth, was made by a long 
 tongue of sand projecting westerly ; 
 on its extremity grew the gigantic 
 palm, well recognized as Helen's land- 
 mark. Hazel stood up in the boat to 
 reconnoitre the coast. He perceived 
 the sandy shore was dotted with mul- 
 titudes of dark objects. Erelong, 
 these objects were seen to be in mo- 
 tion, and, pointing ihem out to Helen, 
 with a smile, he said, — 
 
 Beware, Miss Kolleston, yonder are 
 your bugbears, — and in some force, 
 too. Tiiose dark masses, moving 
 upon the hillocks of sand, or rolling 
 on the surf, are sea-lions, — the p/ioca 
 leonina, or lion-seal."
 
 114 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Helen strained her eves to dis- 
 tinj;iiish the forms, but only de- 
 scried the dingy objeets. While 
 thus entrained, she allowed the cutter 
 to fall off a little, and, ere Hazel had 
 resumed his hold upon the tiller, they 
 were fairly in the bay ; the great 
 palm-tree on their starl)oard-bow. 
 
 " You seem determined to make 
 the aequaiiitance of your nitrht- 
 mares," he remarked ; " you perceive 
 that we arc embayed." 
 
 Her consternation amused him ; 
 she saw that, if they held tlicir present 
 course, the cutter would take the 
 beach about a mile ahead, where 
 these animals were densely crowded. 
 
 At this moment, something dark 
 bulged up close beside her in the sea, 
 and the rounded back of a monster 
 rolled over and disappeared. ILizel 
 let drop tiie sail, for they were now 
 fairly in the smooth water of the 
 bay, and close to the sandy spit ; the 
 gigantic stem of the palm-tree was on 
 tiieir quarter, about half a mile off. 
 
 He took to the oars, and rowed 
 slowly towards the shore. A sm;dl 
 seal rose behind the boat and fol- 
 lowed them, playing with the blade, 
 its gambols resembling that of a kit- 
 ten. He pointed out to Helen the 
 mild expression of the creature's face, 
 and assured her tiiat all this trii)e were 
 harmless animals, and susceptible of 
 domestication. The cub swam up to 
 tlie boat quite fearlessly, and he 
 touched its head gently ; he encour- 
 aged her to do the like, but she 
 shrank from its contact. They were 
 now close ashore, and Hazel, throwing 
 out his anchor in two feet of water, 
 prepared to land the beam of wood he 
 had brought to decorate the palm- 
 tree as a signal. 
 
 The huge stick was soon heaved 
 overboard, and he leaped after it. 
 He towed it to the nearest landing to 
 the tree, and dragged it high up on 
 shore. Scarcely had he disposed it 
 conveniently, intending to rotm'n in a 
 day or two, with the means of alhxing 
 it in a ])rominent and remarkable 
 niauDcr, in the form of a spar across 
 
 the trunk of the palm, when a cry 
 from Helen recalled him. A large 
 number of the sea-lions were coasting 
 quietly down the surf towards the 
 boat ; indeed, a dozen of them had 
 made their appearance around it. 
 
 Hazel sbouied to her not to fear, 
 and, desiiing tiiat her alarm shoidd 
 not spread to the swarm, he passed 
 back quietly but rapidly. When he 
 reached the water, three or four of the 
 animals were already floundering be- 
 tween him and the boat. He waded 
 slowly towards one of them, and 
 stood beside it. The man and the 
 creature looked quietly at each other, 
 and then the seal rolled over, \vith a 
 snuffling, self-satisfied air, winking its 
 soft eyes with immense complacency. 
 
 Helen, in her alarm, could not re- 
 sist a smile at tins conclusion of so 
 terrible a demonstration ; for, with 
 all their gentle exprcssicni, the tusks 
 of the brute looked tbrniidabie. But, 
 when she saw Hazel pushing them 
 aside, and patting a very small cub on 
 the back, she recovered lier courage 
 completely. 
 
 Then he took to bis oars again ; 
 and, aided by the tide, which was now 
 on the ebb, he rowed round the south- 
 western extremity of the island. He 
 found the water here, as he antici- 
 pated, very shallow. 
 
 It was midday when they were 
 fairly on the southern coast ; and 
 now, sailing with the wind aft, the 
 cutler ran through the water at racing 
 speed. Fearing that some reefs or 
 rocky formations migb.t exist in their 
 course, he reduced sail, and kept away 
 from the shore, about a mile. At this 
 distance he was better able to see in- 
 land, and mark down the accidence 
 of its formation. 
 
 The southern coast was uniform, 
 and Helen said it resembled the cliffs 
 of the Kentish or Sussex coast of 
 England, oid}' the Englisli white was 
 here replaced by the pale volcanic 
 gray. By one o'clock they came 
 abreast the very spot whei'e they had 
 first made land ; and, as they judged, 
 due south of their residence. Had
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 115 
 
 they lanfled here, a walk of three 
 miles across tlie centre of the ishuid 
 wouUl have brought tliem home. 
 
 For a!)out a sitiiihir distance the 
 coast exhibited njonotonous clitfe un- 
 brol^en even bj^ a rilL It was pUiin 
 that the water-shed of the isUuid was 
 all northward. They now approached 
 the eastern end, wiicre rose the circu- 
 lar mountain of which mention has 
 been aheady made. This eminence 
 had evidently at one time been de- 
 tached from the rest of the land, to 
 which it was now joined by a neck of 
 swamp about a mile and a half in 
 breadtli, and two miles in length. 
 
 Hazel proposed to reconnoitre this 
 part of the shore nearly, and ran the 
 boat close in to land. The reeds or 
 canes with which this bog was densely 
 clothed grew in a dark spongy soil. 
 Here and there this waste was dotted 
 with ragged trees which he recog- 
 nized as the cypress : from its gaunt 
 branches hung a black, funeral kind 
 of wxe])er, a kind of moss resembling 
 iron-gray horse-hair both in texture 
 and uses, though not so long in the 
 staple. 
 
 This parasite, Hazel explained to 
 Helen, was very common in such 
 marshy ground, and was the death- 
 flag hung out by Nature to warn man 
 that malaria and fever were the in- 
 visible and inalit-nable inhabitants of 
 that ftual neighljorliood. 
 
 Looking narrowly along the low 
 sliore for some uood landing, where 
 under shelter of a tree they might re- 
 pose for an hour, and spread their 
 midday repast, they discovered an 
 opening in the reeds, a kind of lagoon 
 or bayou, extending into the morass 
 between the highlands of the island 
 and the circular mountain, but close 
 under the base of the latter. This 
 inlet he proposed to explore, and ac- 
 cordingly the snil was taken down, and 
 the cutter was poled into the narrow 
 creek. The w iter here was so shal- 
 low ihit the keel slid over the quick- 
 sand into which the oar sank freely. 
 The creek soon became narrow, the 
 water deeper, and of a blacker color. 
 
 and the banks more densely covered 
 wiih canes. These grew to the height 
 of ten and twelve feet, and as close as 
 wheat in a thick crop. The air felt dank 
 and heavy, and hummed with myriads 
 of insects. The black water became 
 so deep and the bottom so sticky that 
 Hazel took to the oars again. The 
 creek narrowed as they proceeded, un- 
 til it proved scarcely wide enough to 
 admit of his working the boat. The 
 height of the reeds hindered the view 
 on either side. Suddenly, however, 
 and after proceeding very slowly 
 through the bends of the canal, they 
 decreased in height and density, and 
 they emerged into an open space of 
 about live acres in extent, a kind of 
 oasis in this reedy desert, created by a 
 mossy mound which arose amidst the 
 morass, and aflbrd d firm footing, of 
 which a grove of trees and innumer- 
 able shrubs availed themselves. Helen 
 uttered an exclamation of delight as 
 this island of foliage in a sea of 
 reeds met her eyes, that had been fam- 
 ished with the arid monotony of the 
 brake. 
 
 They soon landed. 
 Helen insisted on the preparations 
 for their meal being left to her, and, 
 having selected a sheltered spot, she 
 was soon busy with their frugal food. 
 Hazel surveyed the spot, and, selecting 
 a red cedar, was soon seated forty feet 
 above her liead ; making a topograph- 
 ical survey of the neighborhood. 
 He found that the bayou by which 
 they had entered continued its course 
 to the northern shore, thus cutting off 
 the mountain or easterly end, and 
 forming of it a separate island. He 
 saw that a quarter of a mile farther 
 on the bayou or canal parted, forming 
 two streams, of which that to the left 
 seemed the main channel. This he 
 determined to follow. Turning to 
 the west, that is, towards their home, 
 he saw at a distance of two miles a 
 crest of hills brokm into cliffs, which 
 defined the limit of the main-land. 
 The sea had at one time occupied the 
 site where the morass now stood. 
 These cliffs formed a range, extending
 
 116 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 from nortli to south : tlicir precipitous 
 sides, clothed here and there with trees, 
 marked where the descent was broken 
 by platforms. Between him and this 
 raIl^c the morass extended. Hazel 
 took note of three places where the 
 descent from these hills into the 
 marsh could, he believed, most readily 
 be made. 
 
 On the eastern side and close above 
 liim arose the peculiar mountain. Its 
 form was that of a truncated cone, 
 and its sides densely covered with 
 trees of some size. 
 
 The voice of Helen called him from 
 his perch, and he descended quickly, 
 leapinj^ into a mass of brushwood 
 growintr at the foot of his tree. Helen 
 stiiodaf'ew yards from him, in admira- 
 tion, before a lary-e shrub 
 
 " Look, Mr. Hazel, what a singular 
 production," said the girl, as she 
 stooped to examine the plant. It bore 
 a number of red flowers, each grow- 
 in<; out of a fruit like a prickly pear. 
 These flowers were in various stages ; 
 some were just opening like tulips, 
 others, more advanced, had expanded 
 like umbrellas, and quite overlapped 
 the fruit, keeping it from stin and 
 dew ; others bad served their turn in 
 that way, and been withered by the 
 sun's rays. But, wherever this was 
 the case, the fruit liad also burst open 
 and displayed or discharged its con- 
 tents, and those contents looked like 
 seeds; but on narrowrr inspection 
 proved to be little insects with pink 
 transparent wings, and bodies of in- 
 credibly vivid crimson. 
 
 Hazel examined the fruit and flow- 
 ers very carefiUly, and stood rapt, 
 transli.xed. 
 
 "It must be! — and it is !" said 
 he. at last. " Well, I 'm glad I 'vc 
 not dii'd without seeing it." 
 
 " What is it .'" said she. 
 
 " One of the most valuable produc- 
 tions of the earth. It is cochineal. 
 This is the Tunal-tree." 
 
 ■ (), indeed," said Helen, indilTer- 
 enily: " cocliineal is used for a dye; 
 but as it is not prubahle we shall re- 
 quire to dye anything, the discovery 
 
 seems to me more curious than use- 
 ful." 
 
 " You wanted some ink. This pig- 
 ment, mixed with lime-juice, will form 
 a beautiful red ink. Will yon lend 
 me your handkerchief and permit me 
 to try if I have forgotten the niethoj 
 by which these little insects are ob- 
 tained '? " He asked her to liold her 
 handkerchief under a bough of the 
 Tunal-tree, where the fruit was ripe. 
 He then shook the bough. Some in- 
 sects fell at once into the cloth. A 
 great number rose and buzzed a little 
 in the sun not a yard from where they 
 were born ; but the sun dried their 
 hlood so promjjtly tliat they soon fell 
 dead in the handkeichief. Those that 
 the sun so killed went through three 
 phases of color before their eyes. They 
 fell down black or nearly. They whit- 
 ened on the cloth : and after that camo 
 gradually to their final color, a flam- 
 ing crimson. The insect thus treated 
 appeared the most vivid of all. 
 
 They soon secured about half a tea- 
 cupful ; they were rolled up and put 
 away, then they sat down and made 
 a very hearty meal, for it was now 
 jiast two o'clock. 'I'hey reentered 
 the boat, and, ])assing once more into 
 the morass, tiiey found the channel of 
 the bayou as it approached the north- 
 ern shore less difficult of navigation. 
 The bottom became sandy and hard, 
 and the presence of trees in the swamp 
 proved that spots of term Jinna were 
 more freciuent. But the water shal- 
 lowed,, ami, as they opened the shore, 
 he saw with great vexation that the 
 tide in receding had left the bar at 
 the mouth of the canal visible in some 
 I)arts. He ])ushed on, however, until 
 the boat grounded. This was a sad 
 affair. There lay the sea not fifty 
 yards ahead. Hazel leaped out, and 
 examined and ibi'ded the channel, 
 W'hich at this place was about two 
 liundred feet wide. He found a nar- 
 row passage near the eastern side, and 
 to this he towrd the boat. 'J'hen ho 
 begged Miss Kollcston to land, and 
 relieved tiie boat of the mast, sail, and 
 oars. Thus lightened, ho dragged
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 317 
 
 her into the passage; but the time 
 oL-eupicd in these preparations had 
 been also oeeupied by Nature, — the 
 tide had receded, and the eutter sluciv 
 immovably in the water-way, about 
 six t';itl)onis short of deuper water. 
 
 " What is to be done now i " in- 
 quired Helen, when Hazel returned 
 to her side, panting, but eheerful. 
 
 " We must await the rising of the 
 tide. I fear we are imprisoned here 
 for three hours at least." 
 
 There was no help for it. Helen 
 m:Kle light of the misfortune. The 
 spot where they iiad landed was en- 
 closed between the two issues of the 
 higoon. They walked along the shore 
 to the more easterly, and the narrower 
 canal, and, on arriving, Hazel found 
 to his great annoyance that there was 
 ample water to have floated the cut- 
 ter had lie selected tiiat, tiie least 
 promising road. He suggested a re- 
 turn by the road they came, and, 
 passing into the other canal, by that 
 to reach the sea. They harried back, 
 but found by this time the tide had left 
 the cutter high and diy on the sand. 
 So thoy had no choice but to wait. 
 
 Having tln-ee hours to spare, Hazel 
 asked Miss Uolleston's permission to 
 ascend the mountain. She assented 
 to remain near the boat while he was 
 engaged in this expedition. The 
 ascent was too rugged and steep for 
 her powers, and the sea-shore and 
 adjacent groves would find her ample 
 amusement during his absence. She 
 accompanied him to tiie hank of the 
 smaller lagoon, which he forded, and 
 waving an adieu to her he plunged 
 into the dense wood with whi<di the 
 sides of the mountain were clothed. 
 
 She waited some time, and then 
 she heard his voice shouting to her 
 from the heights aljove. The moun- 
 tain-top was about three quarters of a 
 mile from where she stood, but seemed 
 much nearer. She turned bick to- 
 wards the boat, walking slowly, but 
 paused as a faint and di-tant cry 
 again reached her ear. It was not 
 repeated, and then she entered the 
 
 The ground beneath her feet was 
 sofc with velvety moss, and the dark 
 foliage of the trees rendered the air 
 cool and deliciously fragiant. After 
 wandering for some time, she regained 
 the edge of the grove near the boat, 
 and selecting a spot at the foot of an 
 aged cypress, she sat down with her 
 back against its trunk. Then she 
 took out Arthur's letter, and began 
 to read those impassioned sentences ; 
 as she read she sighed deeply, as 
 earnestly she found herself jiitying 
 Arthur's condition moie than slie re- 
 gretted her own. She fell into rcvery, 
 and from revery into a drowsy lan- 
 guor. How long she remained in 
 this state she could not remember, but 
 a slight rustle overhead recalled her 
 senses. Believing it to be a bird 
 moving in the branches, she was re- 
 signing herself again to rest, when she 
 became sensible of a strange emotion, 
 — a conviction that something was 
 watching her with a fixed gaze. She 
 cast her eyes around, but saw nothing. 
 She looked u])wards. From the tree 
 immediately above her lap depended 
 a snake, its tail coiled arountl a dead 
 branch. The reptile hiuig straight, 
 its eyes fixed like two rubies upon 
 Helen's, as very slowly it let itself 
 down by its uncoiling tail. Now its 
 head was on a level with hers ; in 
 another moment it must drop into her 
 lap. 
 
 She was paralyzed. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIIL 
 
 After toiling up a rugged and 
 steep ascent, encumbered with blocks 
 of gray stone, of which the island 
 seemed to be formed, forcing his way 
 over fallen trees and through the 
 tangled undergrowth of a S|)ecies of 
 wild vine, which abounded on the 
 mountain -side, Hazel stopped to 
 breathe, and peer around as well as 
 the dense foliage permitted. He was 
 up to his waist in scrub, and the stiff 
 leaves of the bayonet plant rendered
 
 118 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 caution necessnry in walkinj^. At 
 raotnonts, throui^li the dense foliage, 
 he eauglit a j^listcn of the sea. The 
 sun was in the north behind him, and 
 by tills alone lie <;uided his road due 
 southerly and upward. Once only 
 he i'uund a small cleared space about 
 an acre in extent, and licre it was he 
 uttered the cry Helen heard. He 
 waited a few moments in the hope to 
 hear her voice in reply, but it did not 
 reach him. Again he plunged up- 
 ward, and now the ascent became at 
 times so arduous that more than once 
 lie ahnost resolved to reliiH|uish, or, 
 at least, to defer his task ; but a mo- 
 ment's rest recalled him to himself, 
 and he was one not easily battled by 
 difficulty or labor, .so he toiled on 
 until he judged the summit ou<rht to 
 have been rea<licd. After pausing 
 to take breath and counsel, he fancied 
 that he had borne too much to the 
 left, the ground to his right appeared 
 to rise more than the path that he 
 was pursuing, which had become 
 level, and he concluded, that, instead 
 of ascending, he was circling the 
 mountain-top. Ho turned aside, there- 
 fore, and after ten minutes' hard 
 climbing he was pusliing through a 
 thick and high scrub, when the earth 
 seemed to give way beneath him, and 
 he fell — into an abyss. 
 
 He was ingulfed. He fell from bush 
 to bush — down — down — scratch — 
 rip — plump! until he lodged in a 
 prickly bush more winded than hurt. 
 Out of this he crawled, only to dis- 
 cover himself thus landed in a great 
 and perfectly circular plain of about 
 thirty acres in extent, or about 3.')0 
 yards in diameter. In the centre was 
 a lake, also circular. The broad belt 
 of shore around this lake was covered 
 with rich grass, level as a bowling- 
 green, and all this again was sur- 
 rounded by a nearly pcr|)cndicular 
 cliff, down which indeed he had fallen : 
 this cliff was thickly clothed with 
 shrubs and trees. 
 
 Hazel recognized the crater of an 
 extinct volcano. 
 
 On examining the lake he found 
 
 the waters impregnated with volcanic 
 products. Its bottom was formed of 
 as|)lialtum. Having made a circuit of 
 the shores, he ])erceived on the westerly 
 side — that next the island — a break 
 in the cliff; and on a narrow exami- 
 nation he discovered an outlet. It 
 ajipeared to him that the lake at one 
 time bad emptied its waters through 
 this ancient water-course. The de- 
 scent here was not only gradual, but 
 the old river-bed was tolerably free 
 from obstructions, especially of the 
 vegetable kind. 
 
 He made his way rapidly down- 
 wards, anil in half an hour reached 
 marshy ground. The cane-brake now 
 lay before him. On his left be saw 
 the sea on the south, about a third of 
 a mile. He knew that to the right 
 must be the sea on the north, about 
 half a mile or so. He bent his way 
 thither. The edge of the swamp was 
 very clear, and, though somewhat 
 spongy, afforded good walking uiiiin- 
 peded. As he approaihcd tlie spot 
 where he judged the boat to be, the 
 underwood thickened, the trees again 
 interlaced their arms, and he had to 
 struv'gle through the foliage. At 
 Icngtii he struck the smaller lagoon, 
 and, as he was not certain whether it 
 was fordable, he lollowed its course to 
 the shore, where he had previously 
 crossed. In a few moments lie reached 
 the boat, and was pleased to find her 
 afloat. The rising tide had even 
 moved her a few feet back into the 
 canal. 
 
 Hazel shouted to apprise Miss Rol- 
 Icstoii of his return, and then i)ro- 
 cecded to restore the mast to its phice, 
 and replace the rigtring and the oars. 
 This occupied some little time. He 
 felt surprised that she had not ap- 
 peared. He shouted again. No 
 reply. 
 
 ♦ — 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Hazel advanced hurriedly into the 
 crove, which he hunted thoroughly, 
 but without effect. He satisfied him-
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 119 
 
 self that slie could not have quitted 
 the spot, since the marsh enclosed it 
 oil one side, the canals on the second 
 and third, the sea on the fourth. He 
 returned to tiie iioat more surprised 
 than anxious. He waited awiiile, and 
 again shouted her name, — stopped, 
 — listened, — no answer. 
 
 Yet surely Helen could not have 
 been more than a hundred yards from 
 where he stood. His heart heat with 
 a stran:re sense of appreiiension. He 
 lieard nothing; hut the rustlinj,^ of the 
 foliage and tlic soj) of the waves on 
 the shore, as the tide crept up the 
 shingle. As his eyes roved in every 
 direction, he caught sight of some- 
 thing wliite near the foot of a with- 
 ered cypress-tree, not fifty yards from 
 where he stood. He ajiproached the 
 bushes in which the tree was partially 
 concealed on that side, and quickly 
 recognized a portion of Helen's dress. 
 He ran towards her, — burst through 
 the underwood, and gained the en- 
 closure. She was sitting there, asleep, 
 as he conjectured, her back leaning 
 against the trunk. He contemplated 
 her thus for one moment, and then he 
 advanced, about to awaken her ; but 
 was struck speechless. Pier face was 
 ashy pale, her eyes open and widely 
 distended; her bosom heaved slowly. 
 Hazel approached rapidly, and called 
 to her. 
 
 Her eyes never moved, not a limb 
 stirred. She sat glaring forward. On 
 her lap was coiled a snake, — gray, 
 mottled with muddy green. 
 
 Hazel looked round and selected a 
 branch of the dead tree, about three 
 feet in length. Armed with this, he 
 advanced slowly to the reptile. It 
 was very quiet, thanks to the warmth 
 of her lap Ho pointed the stick at 
 it ; the vermin lifted its head, and its 
 tail began to quiver ; then it dart- 
 ed at the stick, throwing itself its 
 entire length. Hazel retreated, the 
 snake coiled again, and again dart- 
 ed. By repeating this process four 
 or five times, he enticed the crea- 
 ture away ; and then, availing him- 
 self of a moment before it could re- 
 
 coil, ho struck it a smart blow on tho 
 neck. 
 
 When Hazel turned to Miss Rolles- 
 ton, he found her still fixed in the 
 attitude into wliich terror had trans- 
 fixed her. The poor girl luid re- 
 mained motionless ibr an hour, under 
 the terrible fascination of the reptile, 
 comatized. He spoke to her, but a 
 quick spasmodic action of her throat 
 and a quivering of her hands alone 
 responded. The sight of her suffer- 
 ing agonized him beyond expression, 
 but he took her hands, — he pressed 
 them, for they were icy cold, — he 
 called piteously on her name. But 
 she seemed incapable of effort. Then 
 stooping he raised her tenderly in his 
 arms, and carried her to the boat, 
 where he laid her still unresisting 
 and incapable. 
 
 With tremliling limbs and weak 
 hands, he launched tiie cutter, and 
 they were once more afloat and bound 
 homeward. 
 
 He dipped the baler into the fresh 
 water he had brought with him for 
 their daily supply, and dashed it on 
 her forehead. This he repeated uiuil 
 he perceived her breathing became 
 less painful and more rapid. Then 
 he raised her a little, and her head 
 rested upon his arm. When they 
 reached the entrance of the bay he 
 was obliged to pass it, for, the wind 
 being still southerly, he could not 
 enter by the north gate, but came 
 round and ran in by the western pas- 
 sage, the same by which they hud left 
 the same morning. 
 
 Hazel bent over Helen, and whis- 
 pered tenderly that they were at home. 
 Slie answered by a sob. In half an 
 hour the keel grated on the sand 
 near the boat-house. Then he asked 
 her if she were strong enough to 
 reach her hut. She raised her liead, 
 but she felt dizzy ; he helped her to 
 land ; all power had forsaken her 
 limbs ; her head sank on his shoulder, 
 and his arm, wound round her lithe 
 figure, alone prevented her falling 
 helplessly at his feet. Again he raised 
 her in his arms and bore her to the
 
 120 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 hut. Here he laid her down on her 
 bed, and stood for a moment beside 
 her, unable to restrain his tears. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 It was a wretched and anxious 
 nifzlit for Hazel. He watciied the liut, 
 witliout the courage to ajiproach it. 
 Tliat one moment of weakness which 
 occurred to him on board tlie Proser- 
 pine, when he had allowed Helen to 
 perceive the nature of his fcelintrs to- 
 wards her, had rendei'cd all his actions 
 o])en to suspicion. He dared not ex- 
 hibit towards her any syin]iathy, — 
 he mii^ht not extend to her the most 
 ordinary civility If she fell ill, if 
 fever su]iervened ! how could he nurse 
 her, attend upon her 1 His touch 
 must have a signiticance, he knew 
 thai;; for, as he bore her insensible 
 form, he embraced rather than car- 
 ried the precious hurdcn. Could he 
 look upon her In her suffering; without 
 betraying his forbidden love ? And 
 then would not his attentions afflict 
 more than console ? 
 
 Chewing the cud of such Inttcr 
 thoughts, lie passed the night with- 
 out noticing the change which was 
 taking place over the island. The 
 sun rose ; and this awakened him 
 from his revery, whicdi had replaced 
 sleep ; he looked around, and then 
 became sensible of the warnings in tlie 
 air. 
 
 The sea-birds flew about vaguely 
 and absurdly, and seemed sporting in 
 currents of wind ; yet there was but 
 little wind down below. Presently 
 cloiuls came flying over the sky, and 
 blacker m;)sses gathered on the hori- 
 zon. The sea changed color. 
 
 Hazel knew the weather was break- 
 ing. The wet season was at hand, 
 — the moment when fever, if such an 
 invisible iidiabitant there was on that 
 island, would visit them. In a few 
 lioin-s the rain would be upon them, 
 and lie reproached himself with want 
 of care iu the coustruction of the hut. 
 
 For some hours he hovered around it, 
 before he ventured to approach the 
 door, and call to Helen. He thought 
 he heard her voice faintly, and he en- 
 tered. She lay there as he had ])laced 
 her. He knelt beside her, and was 
 appalled at the change in her appear- 
 ance. 
 
 The poor girl's .system had received 
 a shock for which it was unprepared. 
 Her severe sufti^rings at sea had, 
 strange to say, reduced her in appear- 
 ance less than could have been be- 
 lieved ; for her physical endurance 
 proved greater than that of the strong 
 men around her. But the food which 
 the island supplied was not suited to 
 restore her strength, and the nervous 
 shock to which she had been suhjccted 
 was followed by complete prostration. 
 
 Hazel took her unresisting hand, 
 which he would have given a world 
 to press. He felt her pulse ; it was 
 weak, but slow. Her cheeks were 
 hollow, her eyes sunken ; her hand 
 dropped helplessly when he released 
 it. 
 
 Leaving the hut quietly, but hastily, 
 he descended the hill to the rivulet, 
 which he crossed. About half a mile 
 above the boat-house the stream 
 forked, one of its branches coming 
 from the west, the other from the east. 
 Between this latter branch and Ter- 
 rapin Wood, was a stony hill; to this 
 spot Hazel went, and full to gathering 
 a handful of ])0])pies. When he had 
 obtained a sufficient quantity he re- 
 turned to the boat-house, made a 
 small fire of chips, and, filling his tin 
 baler with water, he set down the pop- 
 pies to boil. When the liquor was 
 cool, he measured out a jiortion and 
 drank it. In about twenty minutes 
 his tcm[)les began to throb, a sensation 
 which was rapidly followed by nau- 
 sea. 
 
 It was middaj' before he recovered 
 from the effects of his experiment 
 sufHcicntly to take food. Then he 
 waited for two hours, and felt much 
 restored. He stole to the hut and 
 looked in. Helen lay there as he had 
 left her. He stooped over her : her
 
 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 121 
 
 eyes were half closed, and she turned 
 them slowly upon him ; her lips moved 
 a little, — that was all. He felt lier 
 pulse again ; it was still weaker, and 
 slower. He rose and went away, and, 
 regaining the boat-house, he measured 
 out a portion of the poppy liquor, one 
 third of the dose he had previously 
 taken, and drank it. No headache or 
 nausea succeeded ; he felt his pulse ; 
 it became quick and violent, while a 
 sense of numbness overcame him, and 
 he slept. It was but for a few min- 
 utes. He awoke with a tln-obbing 
 brow, and some sickness ; but with a 
 sense of delight at the heart, for he 
 had found an opiate, and prescribed 
 its quantity. 
 
 He drained the liquor away from the 
 poj)]iy leaves, and carried it to the hut. 
 Measuring witli great cai'e a small 
 quantity, he lifted the girl's head and 
 placed it to her lips. She drank it 
 mechanically. Then he watched be- 
 side her, until her breathing and her 
 pulse changed in cliaracter. Slie 
 slept. He turned aside then, and bur- 
 ied his face in his hands and prayed 
 fervently for her life, — prayed as we 
 pray for the daily bread of the heart. 
 He prayed and waited. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 The next morning, when Helen 
 awoke, she was very weak ; her head 
 ached, but she was herself. Hazel had 
 nmde a liroth for her from the fleshy 
 part of a turtle ; this greatly revived 
 her, and by midday she was able to 
 sit up. Having seen that her wants 
 were within her reach, he left her ; but 
 in a few moments she heard him 
 busily engaged on the roof of her 
 hut. 
 
 On his return, he explained to her 
 his fears that the structure was scarce- 
 ly as weather-proof as he desired ; and 
 he anticipated hourly the commence- 
 ment of the rainy season. Helen 
 STnile<l and pointed "to the sky, which 
 here was clear and bright. But Ha- 
 
 zel shook his head doubtingly. The 
 wet season would commence probably 
 with an atmospheric convulsion, and 
 then settle down to uninterrupted 
 rain. Helen refused obstinately to 
 lielieve in more rain than they had ex- 
 perienced on board the boat, — a ge- 
 nial shower. 
 
 " You will see," replied Hazel. " If 
 you do not change your views within 
 the next three days, then call me a 
 false prophet." 
 
 The following day passed, and Hel- 
 en recovered more strength, but still 
 was too weak to walk ; but she em- 
 ployed herself, at Hazel's request, in 
 making a rope of cocoa-nut fibre, some 
 forty yards long. This he required 
 to fish up the spar to a sufficient 
 height on the great palm-tree, and 
 bind it firmly in its place. While she 
 worked nimbly, he employed himself 
 in gathering a store of such things as 
 they would require during the .coming 
 wintry season. She watched him 
 with a smile, but he persevered. So 
 that day passed. The next morning 
 the rope was finished. Helen was not 
 so well, and was about to help herself 
 to the popi)y liquor, when Hazel 
 happily stopped hei'hand in time : he 
 showed her t!ie exact dose necessary, 
 and explained minutely the effects of 
 a larger draught. Then he shouldered 
 the rope, and set out for Palm-tree 
 Point. 
 
 He was absent aliout six hours, of 
 which Helen slept four. And for two, 
 which seemed very long, she ruminat- 
 ed. What was she thinking of that 
 made her smile and weep at the same 
 moment? and she looked so impa- 
 tiently towards tiie door. 
 
 He entered at last, veiy fatigued. 
 It was eleven miles to the Point and 
 back. While eating his friigal supper, 
 he gave her a detail of his day's ad- 
 ventures. Strange to say, he had not 
 seen a single seal on the sands. He 
 described how he had tied one end of 
 her rope to the middle of the spar, and, 
 with the other between his teeth, he 
 climbed the great palm. For more 
 thau an hour he toiled ; he gained its
 
 122 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 top, passed the rope over one of 
 its brnnches, and hauled up tlic sjjar 
 to about (Mi;;hty feet above the ground : 
 then, descending with the other end, 
 he wound the rope spirally round and 
 round the tree, thus binditig to its 
 trunk the first twenty feet by whieh 
 the spar hung from the branch. 
 
 Siie hstcned very carelessly, he 
 thought, and betrayed little interest 
 in this enterprise which had cost him 
 so much labor and fatigue. 
 
 When he had concluded, she was 
 silent awhile, and then, looking up 
 quickly, said, to his great surprise, — 
 
 " I "think I may increase the dose of 
 your medicine there. You are mis- 
 taken in its power. I am sure I can 
 take four times what you gave me." 
 
 " Indeed you are mistaken," he an- 
 swered, quickly. " I gave you the 
 extreme measure you can take with 
 safety." 
 
 " How do you know that ? You can 
 only guess at its effects. At any rate, 
 I shall try it." 
 
 Hazel hesitated, and then confessed 
 that he had made a little experiment 
 on himself before risking its effects 
 upon her. 
 
 Helen looked u\i at him as he said 
 this so simply and quietly. Her great 
 eyes filled with an angelic light. Was 
 it admiration ? Was it thankfulness ? 
 Her bosom heaved, and her lips 
 quivered. It was but a moment, and 
 she felt glad that Hazel had turned 
 away from her and saw nothing. 
 
 A long silence followed this little 
 episode, when she was aroused from 
 her revery. 
 
 Patter — pat — pat — patter. 
 
 She looked up. 
 
 Pat — patter — patter. 
 
 Their eyes met. It was the rain. 
 Hazel only ,smiled a little, and then 
 ran down to his boat-house, to see that 
 all was right there, and then returned 
 with a large bundle of cliijjs, with 
 which he made a tire, for the sky Irid 
 darkened overhead. Gusts of wind 
 ran along the water ; it had become 
 suddenly chilly. They had almost 
 forgotten the feel of wet weather. 
 
 Ere the fire had kindled, the rain 
 came down in torrents, and, the mat- 
 ted roof being resonant, they heard 
 it strike here and there above their 
 heads. 
 
 Helen sat down on her little stool 
 and reflected. 
 
 In that hut were two persons. One 
 had foretold this, and feared it, and 
 provided against it. The other had 
 said petulantly it was a bugbear. 
 
 And now the rain was pattering, 
 and the Prophet was on his knees 
 making her as comfortable as he 
 could in spite of all, and was not the 
 man to remind her he had foretold 
 it. 
 
 She pondered his character while 
 she watched his movements. He put 
 down his embers, then he took a 
 cocoapod out from the wall, cut it in 
 slices with his knife, and made a fine 
 clear fire; then he ran out again, in 
 spite of Helen's remonstrance, and 
 brought a dozen large scales of the 
 palm-tree. It was all the more cheer- 
 ing for the dismal scene without and 
 the pattering of the rain on the re- 
 sounding roof. 
 
 But, thanks to Hazel's precau- 
 tion, the hut proved weather-tight ; 
 of which fact having satisfied him- 
 self, he bade her good night. He was 
 at the door when her voice recalled 
 him. 
 
 " Mr. Hazel, I cannot rest this 
 night without asking your pardon for 
 all the unkind things I may have 
 done and said; without thanking you 
 humbly for your great forbearance 
 and your — respect for the unhap — 
 I me.an the unfortunate girl thus cast 
 upon your mercy." 
 
 She held outlier hand ; he took it 
 between his own, and faintly expressed 
 his gratitude for her kindness ; and so 
 she sent him away brimful of happi- 
 ness. 
 
 The rain was descending in to.rents. 
 She heard it, but he did not feel it; 
 for she had s])read her angel's wings 
 over his existence, and he regained 
 his sheltered boat-house ho knew not 
 how.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 123 
 
 CHAPTER XXXTL 
 
 The next day was Sunday. Hazel 
 had kept a calendar of the week, and 
 every seventh day was hiid aside with 
 jealousy, to be devoted to such simple 
 reliyious exercises as he could invent. 
 The rain still continued, with less 
 violence indeed, but without an hour's 
 intermission. After breakfast he read 
 to her the exodus of the Israelites, 
 and their sufferintrs during that desert 
 life. He compared those hardships 
 with their own troubles, and pointed 
 out to her how their condition pi-e- 
 sented many things to be thankful for. 
 The island was fruitful, the climate 
 healthy. They might have been cast 
 away on a sandy key or reef, where 
 they would have perished slowly and 
 miserably of hunger and exposure. 
 Then they were spared to each other. 
 Had she been alone there, she could 
 not have provided for herself; had he 
 been cast away a solitary man, the 
 island would have been to him an in- 
 tolerable prison. 
 
 In all these reflections Hazel was 
 very guarded that no expression 
 should escape him to arouse her ap- 
 prehension. He was so careful of this, 
 that she observed his caution and 
 watched his restraint. And Helen 
 was thinking more of this than of the 
 holy subject on which he was dis- 
 coursing. The disguise he tlirew over 
 his heart was penetrable to the girl's 
 eye. She saw his love in every care- 
 ful word, and employed herself in de- 
 tecting it under his rigid maTiuer. 
 Secure in her own position, she could 
 examine his from tiie loop-holes of her 
 soul, and take a pleasure in witnessing 
 the suppressed happiness she could 
 bestow with a word. She did not 
 wonder at her power. The best of 
 women have the natural vanity to take 
 for granted the sway they assume 
 over the existence which submits to 
 them. 
 
 A week passed thus, and Hazel 
 blessed the rain that drove them to 
 this sociability. He had prepared the 
 bladder of a young seal which had 
 
 drifted ashore dead. This membrane, 
 dried in the sun, formed a piece of 
 excellent parchment, and he desired 
 to draw upon it a map of the island. 
 To accomplish this, the first thing 
 was to obtain a good red ink from the 
 cochineal, which is crimson. He did 
 according to his means. He got one 
 of the tilt vessels, and filed it till he 
 had obtained a considerable quantity 
 of the metal. This he subjected for 
 forty hours to the action of lime-juice. 
 He then added the cociiineal, and 
 mixed till he obtained a fine scarlet. 
 In using it he added a small quantity 
 of a hard and pure gum, — he had 
 found gum abounded in the island. 
 His pen was made from an osprey's 
 feathejfc hundreds of which were 
 strewnabout the cliflTs, and some of 
 these he had already secured and 
 dried. 
 
 Placing his tin baler before him, on 
 which he had scratched iiis notes, he 
 drew a map of the island. 
 
 " What shall we call it ? " said he. 
 
 Helen paused, and tlien replied, 
 " Call it ' Godsend ' Island." 
 
 " So I will," he said, and wrote it 
 down. 
 
 Then they named the places they 
 had seen. The reef Helen had dis- 
 covered off the nortliwest coast they 
 called "White Water Island," be- 
 cause of the breakers. Then came 
 " Seal Bay," Palm-tree Point," 
 " Mount Lookout " (this was the hill 
 due south of where they lived). They 
 called the cane-brake " Wild Duck 
 Swamp," and the spot where they 
 lunched " Cochineal Cleai'ing." The 
 mountain was named " Mount CavL- 
 
 " But what shall we call the capital 
 of the kingdom — this hut 1 " said 
 Miss Rolleston, as she leaned over 
 him and pointed to the spot. 
 
 " Saint Helen's," said Hazel, look- 
 ing up ; and he wrote it down ere she 
 could object. 
 
 Then there was a little awkward 
 pause, while he was busily occupied 
 in filling up some topographical de- 
 tails. She turned it off gayly.
 
 124 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 " What are those caterpillars that 
 you have drawn there, sprawling over 
 ray kingdom f " she aslvcd. 
 
 " Cator|jillai-s ! you are complimen- 
 tary, IMiss Kolleston. Tliose are 
 mountains." 
 
 " O, indeed ; and those lines you 
 are now drawing are rivers, I pre- 
 sume." 
 
 " Yes ; let us call tiiis branch of 
 our solitar3- estuary, which runs west- 
 ward, the river Lee, and this, to tiie 
 east, the river Medway. Is such 
 your Miijesty's pleasure ? " 
 
 " La Heine le veiit," replied Helen, 
 smiling. " But, Master Geographer, 
 it seems to me that you are putting 
 in mountains and rivers which you 
 have never explored : how (k| j'ou 
 know that these turns and nnsts in 
 tlie stream exist as you represent 
 them ? and those spurs, which look 
 so real, have you not added them 
 only to disguise the caterpillar charac- 
 ter of your ran<re of hills ! " 
 
 Hazel laughed as he confessed to 
 drawing on his (iincy for some little 
 details. But pleaded that all geog- 
 raphers, when they drew maps, were 
 licensed to (ill in a few such touches, 
 ■where discovery had (ailed to supply 
 particulars. 
 
 Helen had always believed religious- 
 ly in maps, and was amused when she 
 reflected on her former credulity. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Helen's strength was coming back 
 to her but slowly; she complained of 
 great lassitude and want of appetite. 
 But, the following day having cleared 
 up, the sun shone out with jjreat 
 power and brilliancy. She gladly 
 welcomed the return of the fine weath- 
 er, but Hazel shook his head ; ten 
 days' rain was not their portion, — 
 the bad weather would return, and 
 complete the month or six weeks' 
 winter to which Nature was entitled. 
 The next evening the appearance of 
 the sky conlirmed his opinion. The 
 
 snn set like a crimson sliield ; gory, 
 and double its usual size. It entered 
 into a thick bank of dark violet cloud 
 that lay on the horizon, and seemed 
 to split the vapor into rays, but of a 
 dusky kind ; immediately above this 
 crimson, the clouds were of a lirllliant 
 gold, but higher they were the color 
 of rubies, and went gradually off to 
 gray. 
 
 But as the orb dipped to the hori- 
 zon a solid pile of unearthly clouds 
 came up from the southeast ; their 
 liodics were singularly and unnaturally 
 black, and mottled with co])])er-c()lor, 
 and hemmed with a fiery yellow : and 
 tiiese internal clouds towered up their 
 heads, pressing forward as if they all 
 strove for precedency ; it was like Mil- 
 ton's fiends attacking the sky. The 
 rate at which they climbed was won- 
 derful. The sun set and the moon 
 rose full, and showed those angry 
 masses surging upwards and jostling 
 each other as they flew. 
 
 Yet below it was dead calm. 
 
 Having admired the sublimity of the 
 scene, and seen the full moon rise, but 
 speedily lose her light in a brassy halo, 
 they entered the hut, which was now 
 the head-quarters, and they supped to- 
 gether there. 
 
 While they were eating their little 
 meal the tops of the trees were heard 
 to sigh, so still was everything else. 
 None the less did those strange clouds 
 fly northward, eight}' miles an hour. 
 After supper, Helen sat busy over the 
 fire, where some gum, collected by 
 Hazel, resembling India-rubber, M'as 
 boiling ; she was preparing to cover a 
 pair of poor Welcii's shoes, inside and 
 out, with a coat of tliis material, which 
 Hazel believed to be water-proof. She 
 sat in such a position that he could 
 watch her. It was a happy evening. 
 She seemed content. She had got 
 over her fear of him ; they were good 
 comrades if they were nothing more. 
 It was happiness to him to he by her 
 side even on those terms. He thought 
 of it all as he looked at her. How dis- 
 tant she had seemed once to him; 
 what au unapproachable goddess.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 125 
 
 Yet there she was by his side in a liut 
 he hail made for lier. 
 
 He could not help sipping the soft 
 intoxicatinL^ draught her mere pres- 
 ence offered him. 13ut by and by lie 
 felt his heart was dissolving within 
 him, and he was trifling with danger. 
 He must not look on her too long, 
 seated by the fire like a wife. The 
 much-enduring man rose, and turned 
 his back upon the sight he loved so 
 dearly : he went out at the open door 
 intending to close it and bid her good 
 ni^ht. But lie did not do so, just 
 tlien ; for his attention as an observer 
 of nature was arrested by the unusual 
 conduct of certain animals. Gannets 
 and otiier sea-birds were running 
 about the opposite wood and craning 
 their necks in a strange way. He had 
 never seen one enter that wood be- 
 fore. 
 
 Seals and sea-lions were surround- 
 ing the slope, and crawling about, 
 and now and then plunging into the 
 river, which they crossed with infinite 
 difficuby, for it wns running very high 
 and strong. Tlie trees also sighed 
 louder than ever. Hazel turned back 
 to tell Miss Rolleston something ex- 
 traordinary was going on. She sat 
 in sight from the river, and, as he 
 came towards the hut, he saw her sit- 
 ting by the tire reading. 
 
 He stopped short. Her work lay 
 at her feet : she had taken out a let- 
 ter, and she was reading it by the 
 fire. 
 
 As she read it her face was a puz- 
 zle. But Hazel saw the act alone ; 
 and a d irt of ice seemed to go through 
 and through him. 
 
 This, then, was her true source of 
 consolation. He thought it was so 
 before. He had even reason to think 
 so. But, never seeing any palpable 
 proofs, he bad almost been happy. 
 He turned sick with jealous misery, 
 and stood there rooted and frozen. 
 
 Then came a fierce impulse to shut 
 the sight out that caused this pain. 
 
 He almost flung her portcullis to, 
 and made his hands bleed. But a 
 bleeding heart does not feel scratches. 
 
 " Good night," said he, hoarsely. 
 
 " Good night," said she, kindly. 
 
 And why should she not read his 
 letter? She was his affianced bride, 
 bound to him by honor as well as in- 
 clination. This was the reflection to 
 wliich, after a sore battle witli his 
 loving heart, the much-emluring man 
 had to come at last ; and he had come 
 to it, and was getting back ins peace 
 of mind, though not his late com- 
 placency, and about to seek repose in 
 sleep, when suddenly a clap of wind 
 came down like thunder, and thrashed 
 the island and everything in it. 
 
 Everything animate and inanimate 
 seemed to cry out as the blow passed. 
 
 Another soon followed, and an- 
 other, — intermittent gusts at pres- 
 ent, but of such severity that not one 
 came witiiout making its mark. 
 
 Birds were driven away like paper; 
 the sea-lions whimpered, and crouched 
 into corners, and huddled together, 
 and held each other, whining. 
 
 Hazel saw but one thing ; the frail 
 edifice he had built for the creature he 
 adored. He looked out of his boat, 
 and fixed his horror-stricken eyes on 
 it ; he saw it waving to and fro, yet 
 still firm. But he could not stay 
 there. If not in danger she must be 
 terrified. He must go and support 
 her. He left his shelter, and ran to- 
 wards her hut. With a whoop and a 
 scream another blast tore through the 
 wood, and caught him. He fell, dug 
 his hands into the soil, and clutched 
 the earth. While he was in that 
 position, he heard a sharp crack ; he 
 looked up in dismay, and saw that 
 one of Helen's trees had broken like 
 a carrot, and the head was on the 
 ground leaning about ; while a suc- 
 cession of horrible sounds of crashing, 
 and rendiuLS and tearing, showed the 
 frail hut %yas giving way on every 
 side ; racked and riven, and torn to 
 pieces. Plazel, though a stout man, 
 uttered cries of terror death would 
 never have drawn from him ; and, 
 with a desperate headlong rush, he 
 got to the place where the bower had 
 been ; but now it was a prostrate
 
 126 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 skeleton, with the mat roof flapping 
 like a loose sail above it, and Helen 
 below. 
 
 As he reached the hut, the wind got 
 hold of the liL-it of the four shruhs, 
 that did duty for a dour, and tore it 
 from tlie cord that held it, and whirled 
 it into the air ; it went past Hazel's 
 face like a bird flying. 
 
 Though staggered himself by the 
 same blow of wind, he clutched the 
 tree and got into the hut. 
 
 He found her directly. She was 
 kneeling beneath the mat that a few 
 minutes ago had been her roof. He 
 extricated her in a moment, uttering 
 inarticulate eries of j)ity and fear. 
 
 " Don't be frightened," said she. 
 "I am not hurt." 
 
 But he felt her quiver from head to 
 foot. He wrapped her in all her 
 rugs, and, thinking of nothing but 
 her safety, lifted iier in his strong 
 arms to take her to his own place, 
 which was safe from wind at least 
 
 But this was no light work. To 
 go there erect was impossible. 
 
 Holding tight by the tree, he got 
 her to the lee of the tent and waited 
 for a hill. He went rajiidly down the 
 hill, but, ere he reached the river, a 
 gust came careering over the sea. A 
 sturdy young tree was near him. He 
 placed her against it, and wound his 
 arms round her and its trunk. The 
 blast came : the tree bent down al- 
 most to the ground, then whirled 
 round, recovered, shivered ; but he 
 held firmly. It passed. Acrain he 
 lifted her, and bore her to the boat- 
 house. As he went, the wind almost 
 choked her, and her long hair lashed 
 his face like a whip. But he got iier 
 in, and then sat ])anting and crouch- 
 ing, but safe. They were none too 
 soon ; the tempest increased in vio- 
 lence, and became more continuous. 
 No clouds, but a ghastly glare all 
 over the sky. No rebellious waves, 
 but a sea hissing and foaming under 
 its master's lash. The river ran roar- 
 ing and foaming by, and made the 
 boat heaye even in its little creek. 
 The wiad, though it could no longer 
 
 shake them, went screaming terribly 
 close over their heads, — no longer 
 like air in motion, but, solid and keen, 
 it seemeil the Almighty's scytlie mow- 
 ing down Nature; and soon it be- 
 came, like tuibid water, bhickened 
 with the leaves, liranclies, and frag- 
 ments of all kinds it whirled along 
 with it. The trees fell crashing on 
 all sides, and tlie remains passed over 
 their heads into the sea. 
 
 Helen behaved admirably. Speech 
 was impossible, but she thanked hint 
 without it, — eloquently; she nestled 
 her little hand into Hazel's, and, to 
 Hazel that night, with all its awful 
 sights and sounds, was a blissful one. 
 She had l)een in danger, but now was 
 safe by his side. She had ])ressed his 
 hand to thank him, and now she was 
 cowering a little towards him in a 
 way that elaitned him as her protect- 
 or. Her glorious hair blew over hitn 
 and seemed to net him : and now and 
 then, as they heard some crash nearer 
 and more av\(ful than another, she 
 clutched him quickly though liglitly ; 
 for, in danger, her sex love to feel a 
 friend ; it is not enough to see hira 
 near : and once, when a great dusky 
 ' form of a sea-lion came crawling over 
 I the mound, and whimpering peeped 
 into the boat-house, she even fled to 
 liis shoulder with both hands for a 
 moment, and was there, light as a 
 feather, till the creature had passed 
 on. And his soul was full of peace, 
 and a great tranquillity overcame it. 
 He heard nothing of the wrack, knew 
 nothing of the danger. 
 
 O mighty Love ! The tempest 
 might blow, and fill the air and earth 
 with ruin, so that it spared her. The 
 wind was kind, and gentle the niglit, 
 which brought that hair round his 
 face, and that head so near his shoul- 
 der, and gave him the ludy joy of pro- 
 tecting under his wing the soft crea- 
 ture he adored. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Om the morning that followed this 
 memorable night, our personages
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 127 
 
 seemed to change characters. Hazel 
 sat down before the relics of the hut, 
 — three or four strings dangling, and 
 a piece of network waving, — and 
 eyed them with shame, regret, and 
 humiliation. He was so absorbed 
 in his self-reproaches that he did not 
 hear a liglit footstep, and Helen Rol- 
 leston stood near him a moment or 
 two, and watched the play of his 
 countenance with a very inquisitive 
 and kindly light in her own eyes. 
 
 " Never mind," said she, soothing- 
 ly. 
 
 Hazel started at the music. 
 " Never mind your house being 
 blown to atoms, and mine has 
 stood 1 " said he, half reproach- 
 fully. 
 
 ^ " You took too much pains with 
 mine." 
 
 " I will take a great deal more with 
 the next." 
 
 " I hope not. But I want you to 
 come and look at the havoc. It is 
 terrible ; and yet so grand." And 
 thus she drew him away from the 
 sight thar cuised his pain. 
 
 They entered the wood by a path 
 Hazel had cut from the sea-shore, and 
 viewed the devastation in Terrapin 
 Wood. Prostrate trees lay across 
 one another in astonishing numbers, 
 and in the strangest positions; and 
 their glorious plumes swept the earth. 
 " Come," said she, " it is a bad thing 
 for the poor trees, but not for us. 
 See, the place is strewed with treas- 
 ures. Here is a tree full of fans all 
 ready made. And what is that 1 A 
 horse's tail growing on a cocoa-tree ! 
 and a long one too ! that will make 
 ropes for you, and thread for me. 
 Ah, and here is a cabbage. Poor 
 JNIr. Welch ! Well, for one thing, 
 you need never saw nor climb any 
 more. See the advantages of a hur- 
 ricane." 
 
 From the wood she took him to the 
 shore, and there they found many 
 birds lying dead ; and Hazel picked 
 up several that he had read of as good 
 to eat. For certain signs had con- 
 vinced him his fair and delicate com- 
 
 panion was carnivora, and must be 
 nourished accordingly. Seeing him 
 so employed, she asked hiiu archly 
 whether he was beginning to see the 
 comforts of a hurricane. " Not yet," 
 said he ; " the account is far from 
 even." 
 
 " Then come to where the rock 
 was blown down." She led the 
 way gayly across the sands to a point 
 where an overhanging crag had fall- 
 en, with two trees and a quantity of 
 earth and plants that grew above it. 
 But, when they got nearer, she be- 
 came suddenly grave, and stood still. 
 The mass had fallen upon a shel- 
 tered place, where seals where hiding 
 from the wind, and had buried sever- 
 al ; for two or three limljs were stick- 
 ing out, of victims overwhelmed in 
 the ruin ; and a magnificent sea-lion 
 lay clear of the smaller rubbish, but 
 quite dead. The cause was not far 
 to seek : a ton of hard rock had struck 
 him, and then ploughed up the sand 
 in a deep furrow, and now rested 
 within a yai'd or two of the animal, 
 whose back it had broken. Hazel 
 went up to the creature and looked at 
 it : then he came to Helen ; she 
 was standing aloof " Poor bug- 
 bear," said he. " Come away : it is 
 an ugly sight for you." 
 
 " O yes," said Helen. Then, as 
 they returned, " Does not that recon- 
 cile you to the loss of a hut? We 
 are not blown away nor crushed." 
 
 " That is true," said Hazel; "but 
 suppose your health should suffer 
 from the exposure to such fearful 
 weather. So unlucky ! so cruel ! 
 just as you were beginning to get 
 stronger." 
 
 " I am all the better for it. Shall 
 I tell j'ou "? excitement is a good 
 thing ; not too often, of course ; but 
 now and then ; and, when we are in 
 the humor for it, it is meat and drink 
 and medicine to us." 
 
 " What ! to a delicate young la- 
 dy ? " 
 
 " A}', ' to a delicate young lady.' 
 Last night has done me a world of 
 good. It has shaken me out of my-
 
 128 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 self. I am in better health and spir- 
 its. Of course I am very sorry the 
 hut is blown down, — because 3'ou 
 took so nuicli trouble to build it : but, 
 on my own account, 1 really don't 
 care a straw, i'ind me some corner 
 to nestle in at night, and all day I 
 mean to be about, and busy as a bee, 
 hcljjingvou, and — Breakfast! break- 
 fast ! () how hungry I am." And 
 this s])irited girl led the way to the 
 boat with a briskness and a vigor that 
 charmed and astonished him. 
 
 Souvent ferume varie. 
 
 This gracious behavior did not blind 
 Hazel to the serious character of the 
 situation, and all breakfast time he 
 was thinking and thinking, and oftei"i 
 kept a morsel in liis month, and for- 
 got to eat it for several seconds, he 
 was so anxious and puzzled. At last 
 he said, " I know a large hollow tree 
 with apertures. If I were to dose 
 tliem all but one, and keep that for 
 the door 1 No : trees have betrayed 
 nie; I '11 never trust another tree with 
 you. Stay; I know — I know — a 
 cavern. He nttered the verb rather 
 loudly, but the substantive with a 
 sudden feebleness of intonation that 
 was amusing. His timidity was su- 
 perfluous ; if he had said he knew "a 
 bank whereon the wild thyme grows," 
 the suggestion would have been well 
 received that morning. 
 
 " A cavern ! " cried Helen. " It 
 has always been the dream of my life 
 to live in a cavern." 
 
 Hazel brightened up. But the next 
 moment he clouded again. " But I 
 forgot. It will not do; there is a 
 spring running right through it ; it 
 comes down nearly perpendicular 
 through a channel it lias bored, or 
 enlarged ; and splashes on the floor." 
 
 " How convenient ! " said Helen ; 
 "now I shall have a bath in my room, 
 instead of having to go miles for it. 
 By the by, now you have invented the 
 showcr-batii, please discover Soap. 
 Kot that one really wants any in this 
 island ; for tliere is no dust, and the 
 very air seems purifying. But who 
 
 can shake off the prejudices of early 
 education ? " 
 
 Hazel said, "Now I'll laugh as 
 much as you hke, when once this care 
 is ofl'my mind." 
 
 He ran otfto the cavern, and found 
 it spacious and safe ; hut the spring 
 was fdling in great force, and the roof 
 of the cave glisteiung with moisture. 
 It looked a hopeless case. But if 
 Necessity is the mother of Invention, 
 surely Love is the father. He mounted 
 to the rock above, and found the spot 
 where the s])ring suddenly descended 
 into the earth with the loudest gurgle 
 he had ever lieard ; a gurgle of defi- 
 ance. Nothing was to be done there. 
 But he traced it upwards a little way, 
 and found a place where it ran beside 
 a deep decline. "Aha, my friend!" 
 said he. He got Ids spade, and with 
 some hours' hard work dug it a fresh 
 channel, and carried it away entirely 
 from its course. He returned to tlie 
 cavern. Water Avas dripping very 
 fast ; but, on looking up, he could see 
 the light of day twinkling at tlie top 
 of the spiral watcicourse he had robbed 
 of its supply. Then he conceived a 
 trul}' original idea : why not turn his 
 empty watercourse into a chimney, 
 and so give to one element what he 
 had taken from another? He liad no 
 time to execute this just then, for the 
 tiile w'as coming in, and lie could not 
 afford to lose any one of those dead 
 animals. So he left the funnel to drip, 
 that Ijcing a process he had no means 
 of expediting, and moored the sea- 
 lion to the very rock that had killed 
 him, and w-as proceeding to dig out 
 the seals, when a voice he never could 
 hear without a thrill summoned him 
 to dinner. 
 
 It was a plentiful rcjiast, and in- 
 cluded roast pintado and cabbage- 
 palm. Helen Rollcston informed 
 liiin during dinner that he would 
 no longer be allowed to monopolize 
 the labor attendant upon their condi- 
 tion. 
 
 " No," said slie, "you are always 
 working for me, and I shall work for 
 you. Cooking and washing are a
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 129 
 
 woman's work, not a man's ; and so 
 arc ])laitinir and netting-." 
 
 Thid hcaliliy resolution once formed 
 was adhered to with a constancy that 
 belonged to the girl's character. The 
 roof of the ruined hut came ashore 
 in the bay that eveninji, and was 
 fastened over the boat. Ilazel lighted 
 a l)onfiro in the cavern, and had 
 the satisfaction of seeing some of 
 the smoke issue above. But he 
 would not let Miss Kolleston occupy 
 it yet. He shifted her things to the 
 boot, and slept in the cave himself. 
 However, he lost no time in laying 
 down a great hearth, and built a fire- 
 place and chimney in the cave. The 
 chimney went up to the hole in the 
 arch of the cave ; then came the 
 stone funnel, stolen from Nature ; and 
 above, on the upper surface of the 
 clitF, came the chimney-pot. Thus 
 the chimney acted like a German 
 stove : it stood in the centre, and 
 soon made the cavern very dry and 
 warm, and a fine retreat during the 
 rains. When it was ready for oc- 
 cupation, Helen said she would sail 
 to it : she would not go by land ; 
 that was too tame for her. Hazel 
 had only to comply with iier humor, 
 and at high water they got into the 
 boat, and went down tiie river into 
 the sea with a rush that made Helen 
 wince. He soon rowed her across 
 the bay to a point distant not more 
 than fifty yards from the cavern, and 
 installed her. But he never returned 
 to the river ; it was an inconvenient 
 place to make excursions from ; and, 
 besides, all his work was now either 
 in or about the cavern ; and that 
 convenient hurricane, as Helen called 
 it, not only made him a builder 
 again ; it also made him a currier, a 
 soap-boiler, and a Salter. So they 
 drew the boat just above hi^h-water 
 mark in a sheltered nook, and he 
 set up his arsenal ashore. 
 
 In this situation, day glided by 
 after day, and week after week, in 
 vigorous occupations, brightened by 
 social intercourse, and in some de- 
 gree by the beauty and the friendship 
 9 
 
 of, the animals. Of all this industry 
 we can only afford a brief summary. 
 Hazel fixed two uprights at each 
 side of the cavern's mouth, and con- 
 nected each pair by a beam ; a netting 
 laid on these, and covered with gi- 
 gantic leaves from the prostrate 
 palms, made a sufficient roof in this 
 sheltered spot. On this terrace they 
 could sit even in the rain, and view 
 the sea. Helen cooked in the cave, 
 but served dinner up on this beauti- 
 ful terrace. So now she had a But 
 and a Ben, as the Scotch say. He 
 got a hogshead of oil from the sea- 
 lion ; and so the cave was always 
 lighted now, and that was a great 
 comfort, and gave them more hours 
 of in - door employment and con- 
 versation. The poor bugbear really 
 brightened their existence. Of the 
 same oil, boiled down and mixed 
 with wood-ashes, he made soap, to 
 Helen's great delight. The hide of 
 tliis animal was so thick he could do 
 nothing with it but cut off pieces to 
 make the soles of shoes if required, 
 But the seals were miscellaneous 
 treasures ; he contrived with guano 
 and aromatics to curry their skins ; 
 of their bladders he made vile parch- 
 ment, and of their entrails gut, cat- 
 gut, and twine, beyond compare. He 
 salted two cubs, and laid up the rest 
 in store, by enclosing large pieces in 
 clay. When these were to he used, 
 the clay was just put into hot em- 
 bers for some hours, then broken, and 
 the meat eaten with all its juices 
 preserved. 
 
 Helen cooked and washed, and 
 manufactured salt ; and collected 
 quite a stoie of wild cotton, though 
 it grew verj' sparingl_y, and it cost her 
 hours to find a fe\v pods. But in 
 hunting for it she found other things, 
 — health for one. After sunset she was 
 generally employed a couple of hours 
 on matters which occupy the fair in 
 every situation of life. She made 
 herself a sealskin jacket and pork- 
 pie hat. She made Mr. Hazel a 
 man's cap of seal skin with a point. 
 But her great work was with the
 
 130 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 cotton, which will be described her,e- 
 aftcr. 
 
 However, for two hours after sun- 
 set, no more (they rose at peep of 
 day), her physiciati allowed lier to sit 
 and work ; which she did, and often 
 smiled, while he sat by and dis- 
 coursed to her of all the tliin<rs he 
 had read, and surprised himself by 
 the strength and activity of his mem- 
 ory. He attributed it partly to the 
 air of the island. Nor were his 
 fingers idle even at night. He had 
 tools to sharpen for the morrow, glass 
 to make and polish out of a laminated 
 crystal he had found. And then the 
 hurricane had blown away, amongst 
 many properties, his map ; so he liad 
 to make anotlicr with similar mare- 
 I'ials. He completed the map in due 
 course, and gave it to Helen. It was 
 open to the same strictures she had 
 passed on the other. Hazel was no 
 chartographer. Yet this time she had 
 nothing but praise for it. How was 
 that? 
 
 To the reader it is now presented, 
 not as a specimen of chartographic 
 art, but as a little curiosity in its way, 
 being a fac-simile of the map John 
 Hazel drew for Helen Kolleston with 
 such out-of-the-way materials as that 
 out-of-the-way island afibrded. Above 
 all, it will enable the reader to follow 
 our personages in their little excur- 
 sions past and future, and also to 
 trace the course of a mysterious event 
 we have to record. 
 
 Relieved of other immediate cares. 
 Hazel's mind had time to dwell upon 
 the problem Helen had set him ; and 
 one fine dny a conviction struck him 
 tliat he had taken a narrow and 
 puerile view of it, and tliat, after all, 
 there must be in the nature of things 
 some way to attract ships from a dis- 
 tance. Possessed with this thought, 
 he went up to Telegraph Point, ab- 
 stracted liis mind from all external 
 olijects, and li.xcd it on this idea, — 
 but came down as lie went. He de- 
 scended by some steps he had cut zig- 
 
 zag for Helen's use, and as he put his 
 foot on the fifth step, — whoo — 
 whir — whiz — came nine ducks, 
 cooling his head, they whizzed so 
 close ; and made right for the la- 
 goons. 
 
 " Hum ! " thought Hazel ; " I never 
 see you ducks fly in any other direc- 
 tion but that." 
 
 This speculation rankled in him 
 all night, and he told Helen he should 
 reconnoitre at daybreak, but should 
 not take her, as there might he snakes. 
 He made the boat ready at daybreak, 
 and certain gannets, pintadoes, boo- 
 bies, and noddies, and divers with 
 eyes in their heads like fiery jewels, 
 — birds whose greedy maws lie had 
 often gratified, — chose to fancy he 
 must be going a fishing, and were on 
 the alert, and rather troublesome. 
 However, he got adrift, and ran out 
 through North Gate, with a light 
 westerly breeze, followed by a whole 
 fleet of birds. These were joined in 
 due course by another of his satellites, 
 a young seal he called Tommy, also 
 fond of fishing. 
 
 The feathered convoy soon tailed 
 oflp; but Tommy stuck to liini for 
 about eight miles. He ran that dis- 
 tance to have a nearer look at a small 
 island wliich lay due north of Tel- 
 egraph Point. He satisfied himself 
 it was little more than a very long, 
 large reef, the neighboihaod of which 
 ougiit to be avoided by ships of bur- 
 den, and, resolving to set some beacon 
 or other on it erelong, he christened 
 it White Water Island, on account of 
 the surf : he came about and headed 
 for the East Bluff. 
 
 Then Tommy gave him up in dis- 
 gust ; perhaj)S thought his conduct 
 vacillating. Animals all despise that. 
 
 He soon landed almost under tho 
 volcano, and moored his boat not far 
 fiom a cliff peaked with guano. Ex- 
 ercising due caution this time, he got 
 up to th(! lairoons, and found a great 
 many ducks swimming about. Ho 
 approached little jiarties to examine 
 their varieties. They all swam out 
 of his way ; some of them even flew
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 131 
 
 1 
 
 SCALE OF, MILES 
 
 2 3 

 
 132 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 a few yards, and then settled. Not 
 one would U't him come within forty 
 yards. This convinced Hazel tiie 
 ducks were not natives of the island, 
 but strani^ers, who were not much 
 afraid, because they had never been 
 molested on this particular island; 
 but still distrusted man. 
 
 While he pondered thus, there was 
 a great noise of wings, and about a 
 dozen ducks flew over his head on the 
 rise, and passed westward still rising 
 till they got into the high currents, 
 and away upon the wings of the wind 
 for distant lands. 
 
 The grand rush of their wings, 
 and the olf-haud way in which they 
 spurned, abandoned, and disappeared 
 from an island that held him tight, 
 made Hazel feci very small. His 
 thoughts took the form of Satire. 
 " Lords of the citation, are we ? We 
 sink in water ; in air we tumble ; on 
 earth we stumble." 
 
 These pleasing reflections did not 
 prevent his taking their exact line of 
 flight, and barking a tree to mark it. 
 He was about to leave the place, when 
 he heard a splashing not far from 
 him, and there was a duck jumping 
 at)out on the water in a strange way 
 Hazel thought a snake had got hold 
 of her, and ran to her assistance. He 
 took her out of the water and soon 
 foutid what was the matter ; her bill 
 was open, and a fish's tail was sticking 
 out. Hazel inserted his Hnger and 
 dragged out a small fish which had 
 erected the spines on its back so op- 
 portuiudy as nearly to kill its destroy- 
 er. The durk recovered enough to 
 quack in a feeljle and dul)ious manner. 
 Hazel kept her for Helen, because she 
 was a plain brown duck. With some 
 little reluctance he slightly shortened 
 one wing, and stowed away his cap- 
 tive in the hold of the bout. 
 
 He happened to have a great stock 
 of jiitch in the boat, so he employed 
 a few hours in writing upon the guano 
 rocks. On one he wrote in huge let- 
 ters : — 
 
 AN ENGLISH LADY WRECKED UEUE. 
 HASTE TO IIER RESCUE. 
 
 On another ho wrote in small let- 
 ters : — 
 
 BEWARE TJIE REEFS .ON TIIE NORTH 
 HIDE. 
 
 LIE OFF FOR SIGNALS. 
 
 Then he came home and beached 
 the boat, and brought Helen his cap- 
 tive. 
 
 "Why, it is an English duck!" 
 she cried, and was enraptured. 
 
 By this visit to the lagoons. Hazel 
 gathered that this island was a half- 
 way house for migrating birds, espe- 
 cially ducks ; and he inferred that the 
 line tiiose vagrants had taken was the 
 shortest way from this island to the 
 nearest land. This was worth know- 
 ing, and set his brain working. He 
 begged Helen to watch for the return 
 of the turtle-doves (ihey had all left 
 the island just before the rain) and 
 learn, if possible, from what point of 
 the com])ass they arrived. 
 
 The next expedition was under- 
 taken to please Helen ; she wished to 
 examine the beautiful creeks and 
 caves on the north side, which they 
 had seen from a distance when they 
 sailed round the island. 
 
 They started on foot one delight- 
 ful day, and walked briskly, for the 
 air, though balmy, was exhilarating. 
 They followed the course of the river 
 till they came to the lake that fed it, 
 and was fed itself by hundreds of lit- 
 tle natural gutters down which the 
 hills discharged the rains. This was 
 new to Helen, though not to HmzcI : 
 she produced the mnp, and told the 
 lake slyly that it was incorrect, a lit- 
 tle too big. She took some of the 
 water iti her hand, sprinkled the lake 
 with it, and called it Hazelnicre. 
 They bore a little to the right, and 
 proceeded till they found a creek 
 shaped like a wedge, at whose broad 
 end shone an arch of foliage studded 
 witii tlowcrs, and the sparkling blue 
 water ])eeped behind. This was 
 tcm|)ting, but the descent was rather 
 hazardous at first ; great square blocks 
 of rock, one below another, and these 
 rude steps were coated with mosses 
 of rich hue, but wet and slippery;
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 133 
 
 Hazel began to be alarmed for his 
 companion. However, after one or 
 two difhculties, the fissure opened 
 wider to the sun, and they descended 
 from the slimy rocks into a sloping 
 hot-bed of exotic flowers, and those 
 huge sui'culent leaves that are the 
 glory of the tropics. The ground 
 was carpeted a yard deep with their 
 luxuriance, and others, more aspiring, 
 climbed the warm sides of the diverg- 
 ing cliffs, just as creepers go up a 
 wall, lining every crevice as they rose. 
 In this blessed spot, warmed, yet not 
 scorched, by the tropical sun, and 
 fed with trickling waters, was seen 
 what marvels " boon Nature " can do. 
 Here our vegetable dwarfs were giants, 
 and our flowers were trees. One 
 lovely giantess of the jasmine tribe, 
 but with flowers shaped like a tnari- 
 gold, and scented like a tuberose, had 
 a stem as thick as a poplar, and carried 
 its thousand buds and amber-colored 
 flowers up ei};hty feet of broken rock, 
 and ]ilanted on every ledge suckers, 
 tliat flowered again, and tilled the air 
 witii perfume. Another tree about 
 half as hitih was covered with a cas- 
 cade of snow-white tulips, each as big 
 as a small flower-pot, and scented like 
 honeysuckle. An aloe, ten feet hi;;h, 
 blossomed in a corner, unheeded 
 among loftier beaitties. And at the 
 very mouth of the fissure a huge ba- 
 nana leaned across, and flung out its 
 vast leaves, that seemed translucent 
 gold against the sun; under it shone 
 a monstrous cactus in all her pink and 
 crimson glory, and through the maze 
 of color streamed tlie deep blue of the 
 peaceful ocean, laughing, and catch- 
 ing sunbeams. 
 
 Helen leaned against the cliffy and 
 quivered with deliuht, and that deep 
 sense of flowers that belongs to your 
 true woman. 
 
 Hazel feared she was ill. 
 
 " 111 1 " said she. " Who couM be 
 ill here ? It is heaven upon earth. 
 you dears ! O you loves ! And 
 they all seemed growing on the sea, 
 and floating in the sun." 
 
 "And it is only one of a dozen 
 
 such," said Hazel. "If you would 
 like to inspect them at your leisure, 
 I'll just run to Palm-tree Point; for 
 my signal is all askew. I saw that 
 as we came along. 
 
 Helen assenteil readily, and he ran 
 off; but left her the provisions. She 
 was not to wait dinner for him. 
 
 Helen examined two or three of the 
 flowery fissures, and found fresh beau- 
 ties in each, and also some English 
 leaves, that gave her pleasure of 
 another kind ; and, after she had rev- 
 elled in the flowers, she examined 
 the shore, and soon discovered that 
 the rocks which abounded here 
 (thoui;h there were also large patches 
 of clear sand) were nearly all pure 
 coral, i.i great variety. Red coral was 
 abundant; and even the pink coral, 
 to which fasliion was just then giving 
 a fictitious value, was there b}' the 
 ton. This interested her, and so did 
 some beautiful shells that lay spar- 
 kling. The time passed swiftly ; and 
 she was still busy in her researches, 
 when suddenly it darkened a little, 
 and, looking back, she saw a white 
 vapor stealing over the cliff, and curl- 
 ing down. 
 
 Upon this she thought it prudent 
 to return to the place where Hazel 
 had left her; the more so as it was 
 near sunset. 
 
 Tlie va]jor descended and spread 
 and covered sea and land. Then the 
 sun set : and it was darkness visible. 
 Coming from the south, the sea-fret 
 caught Hazel sooner and in a less 
 favorable situation. Returning from 
 the palm-tree, he had taken the short- 
 est cut through a small jungle, and 
 been so impeded by the scrub, that, 
 when he got clear, the fog was upon 
 him. Between that and the river he 
 lost his way several times, and did 
 not hit the river till near midnight. 
 He followed the river to the lake, and 
 coasted the lake, and then oroped his 
 way towards the creek. But, after a 
 while, every step lie took was fraught 
 with danjrer ; and the night was far 
 advanced when he at last hit off the 
 creek, as he thought. He halloed ;
 
 134 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 but there was no reply ; halloed again, 
 and, to his jay, her voice replied ; but 
 ai a distance. He had come to the 
 ■vvroni; creek. She was farther west- 
 ward. He groped his way westward, 
 and came to another creek. lie hal- 
 loed to iier, and she answered him. 
 But to attt.mi>t tlie descent would have 
 been mere siiicide. She felt that her- 
 self, and almost ordered him to stay 
 where he was. 
 
 " Why, we can talk all the same," 
 said she; "and it is not for long." 
 
 It was a curious position, and one 
 typical of the relation between them. 
 •So near together, yet the barrier so 
 strong. 
 
 " I am afraid you must be very 
 cold," said he. 
 
 " no ; I have my sealskin jacket 
 on ; and it is so slieltercd here. I 
 wish you were as well otl^'." 
 
 " You are not afraid to be alone 
 down there 1 " 
 
 " 1 am not alone when your voice 
 is near me. Now don't you fidget 
 yourself, dear friend. I like these 
 little excitements. I have told you so 
 before. Listen : how calm and silent 
 it all is; the jilacc ; the night ! 'Ihe 
 mind seems to fill with great ideas, 
 and to feel its immortality." 
 
 She spoke with solemnity, and he 
 heard in silence. 
 
 Indeed it was a reverend time and 
 place : the sea, whose loud and pene- 
 trating tongue had, in some former 
 age, created the gully where they 
 both sat apart, had of late years re- 
 ceded, and kissed the sands gently 
 that calm night : so gently, that its 
 long, low murmur seemed but the 
 echo of tranquillity. 
 
 The voices of that pair sounded 
 superniitural, one speakinir up, and 
 the other down, the speakers (piite in- 
 visible. 
 
 "Mr. Hazel," said Helen, in alow, 
 earnest voice ; " they say that Night 
 gives wisdom even to the wi.se ; think 
 now, and tell me your true thoughts. 
 Has the foot of man ever trod npon 
 this island before ! " 
 
 There was a silence due to a ques- 
 
 tion so grave, and put with solemnity, 
 at a solemn time, in a solemn place. 
 
 At last Hazel's thoughtful voice 
 came down. " The world is very, 
 very, very old. So old, that the 
 words ' Ancient History ' are a false- 
 hood, and Moses wrote but as yester- 
 ilay. And man is a very old animal 
 upon this old, old planet; and has 
 been everywhere. I cannot doubt he 
 has been here." 
 
 Her voice went up. " But have 
 you seen any signs ? " 
 
 His voice came down. " I have 
 not looked for them. The bones and 
 the weapons of primeval man are all 
 below earth's surface at this time of 
 day." 
 
 There was a dead silence. Then 
 Helen's voice went up again. " But 
 in modern times 1 Has no man land- 
 ed here from far-otf places, since ships 
 were built "? " 
 
 The voice came sadly down. " I 
 do not know." 
 
 The voice went up. " But think ! " 
 
 The voice came down. " What 
 calamity can he new in a world so 
 old as this ? Everything we can do, 
 and suffer, others of our race have 
 done, and suffered." 
 
 The voice went up. " Hush ! 
 there 's something moving on the 
 sand." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Hazel waited and listened. So 
 did Helen, and her breath came fast; 
 for in the stilly night she heard light 
 but mysterious sounds. Something 
 was moving on the sand very slowly 
 and softly, but nearer and nearer. 
 Her heart began to leap. She put 
 out her hand instinctively to clutch 
 Mr. Hazel ; but he was too far off. 
 She had tlie presence of mind and 
 the self-denial to disguise her fears; 
 for she knew he woulil cqme headlong 
 to her assistance. 
 
 Slie said in a quivering whisper, 
 "I'm not frightened; only v — very 
 c — curious."
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 135 
 
 And now she became conscious 
 that not only one but several things 
 were creeping about. 
 
 Presently the creeping ceased, and 
 was followed by a louder and more 
 my-;terious noise. In that silent night 
 it sounded like raking and digging. 
 Three or four mysterious visitants 
 seemed to be making graves. 
 
 This was too much ; especially 
 coming as it did after talk about the 
 primeval dead. Her desire to scream 
 was so strong, and she was so afraid 
 Hazel would break his neck, if she 
 relieved her mind in that way, that 
 she actually took her handkerchief 
 and bit it hard. 
 
 But this situation was cut short b}' 
 a beneficent luminary. The sun rose 
 with a magnitieent bound, — it was 
 his way in that latitude, — and every- 
 thing unpleasant winced that moment; 
 the fog shivered in its turn, and ap- 
 peared to Ojjen in furrows as great 
 javelins of golden light shot through 
 it from the swiftly rising orb. Soon 
 those golden darts increased to streams 
 of ])ortal)le fire, that burst the fog and 
 illumined the wet sands ; and Helen 
 burst out laughing like chanticleer, 
 for this first bre ik of day revealed the 
 se.xtons that had scared her, — three 
 ponderous turtles, crawluisj;, slow and 
 clumsy, back to sea. Hazel joined 
 her, and they soon found what these 
 evil spirits of the island had been at, 
 poor wretches. They had each bin-ied 
 a dozen eggs in the sand : one dozen 
 of which were very soon set boiling. 
 At first, indeed, Helen olijected that 
 they had no sheJls, but Hazel told her 
 she might as well complain of a rose 
 without a thorn. He assured her 
 turtles' eggs were a known delicacy, 
 ami very superior to birds' eggs; and 
 so she found them : they were eaten 
 with the ke.-nest relish. 
 
 " And now," said Helen, " for my 
 discoveries. First, here are my Eng- 
 lish leaves, only bigger. I found them 
 on a large tree." 
 
 " English leaves ! " cried Hazel, 
 with rapture. " Why, it is the caout- 
 chouc ! " 
 
 " O dear," said Helen, disappoint- 
 ed ; "I took it lor the India-rubber 
 tree." 
 
 " It is the India-rubber tree ; and I 
 have been hunting for it all over the 
 island in vain, atid using wretchedly 
 inferior gums for want of it." 
 
 " I 'm so glad," said Helen. " And 
 now I have something else to show 
 you : something that curdled my 
 "blood ; but I dare say I was very 
 foolish." She then took him half 
 across the sand and pointed out to 
 him a numlrer of stones dotted over 
 the sand in a sort of oval. These 
 stones, streaked with sea grass, and 
 incrusted with small shells, were not 
 at equal distances, but yet, allowing 
 for gaps, they formed a decided figure. 
 Their outline resembled a great fish, 
 wanting the tail. 
 
 " Can this be chance 1 " asked 
 Helen ; " 0, if it should be what I 
 fear, and that is — Savages ! " 
 
 Hazel considered it attentively a 
 long time. " Too far at sea for living 
 savages," said he. " And yet it can- 
 not be chance. What on earth is it? 
 It looks Druidical. But how can 
 that be ? The island was smaller 
 when these were placed here than it 
 is now." He went nearer and ex- 
 amined one of the stones ; then he 
 scraped away the sand from its base, 
 and found it was not shaped like a 
 stone, but more like a whale's rib. 
 He became excited ; went on his 
 knees, and tore the sand up with his 
 hands. Then he rose up agitated, and 
 traced the outline again. " Great 
 Heaven ! " said he, " why, it is a 
 ship." 
 
 " A ship ! " 
 
 " Ay," said he, standing in the 
 middle of it ; " here, beneath our feet,
 
 136 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 lies man ; with his work, and his 
 treasures. This carcass has been 
 here for many a lonp: year ; not so 
 very loni^, neither ; she is too big for 
 the 16th century, and yet she must 
 have been sunk when the ishmd was 
 smaller. I lake it to be sr Spuni-sh or 
 Portuguese ship : ])robab]y one of 
 those treasure-ships our commodores, 
 and chartered pirates, and the Ameri- 
 can buccaneers, used to ciiase about 
 these seas. Here lie her bones, and 
 the bones of her crew. Your ques- 
 tion was soon answered. All that we 
 can say has been said ; can do lias 
 been done ; can suffer has been suf- 
 fered." 
 
 They were silent, and the sunk 
 ship's bones moved them strangely. 
 In their deep isolation from the human 
 race, even the presence of the dead 
 brought humanity somehow nearer 
 to them. 
 
 They walked thoughtfully away, 
 and made across the sands for Tele- 
 gniph Point. 
 
 Before they got home, Helen sug- 
 gested that perhaps, if he were to dig 
 in the ship, he migiit find something 
 useful. 
 
 He shook his head. " Impossible ! 
 The iron has all tnelted away like 
 sugar long before this. Nothing can 
 have survived but gold and silver, 
 and they are not worth picking up, 
 much less digging for ; my time is 
 too j)recious. No, you have found 
 two buried trea-uies to-day, — turtles' 
 CfTgs, and a ship, freighted, as I 
 think, with what men call tlie pre- 
 cious metals. AVell, the eggs are 
 gold, and the gold is a drug, — there 
 it will lie for me." 
 
 Both discoveries bore fruits. The 
 ship : Hazel made a vow that never 
 again should any poor ship lay lier 
 ribs on this island for want of warn- 
 ing. He buoyed the reefs. He ran 
 out to White Water Island, and 
 wrote an earnest warning on the 
 biark reef, and, this time, he wrote 
 with white on black. He wrote a 
 similar warning, with black on white, 
 
 at the western extremity of Godsend 
 Island. 
 
 The eggs : Hazel watched for the 
 turtles at daybreak ; turned one now 
 and then ; and fed Helen on tiie meat 
 or its eggs, morn, noon, and night. 
 
 For some time she iiad been advan- 
 cing in health and strength. But, 
 when the rains declined considerably, 
 and she was all day in the air, she got 
 the fidl benefit of the wonderful cli- 
 mate, and her health, appetite, and 
 muscular vigor became truly aston- 
 ishing; especially under what Hazel 
 called the turtle cure ; though, indeed, 
 she was cured before. She ate three 
 good meals a day, and needed them ; 
 for she was up with the sun, and her 
 hands and feet never idle till he set. 
 
 Four months on the island had done 
 this. But four months had not shown 
 those straining eyes the white sjieck 
 on the horizon; the sail, so looked 
 and longed for. 
 
 Hazel often walked the island by 
 himself; not to explore, for he knew 
 the place well by this time, but he 
 went his rounds to see that all his 
 signals were in working order. 
 
 He went to Mount Lookout one 
 day with this view. It was about an 
 hour before noon. Long before he 
 got to the mountain he had scanned 
 the horizon carefully, as a matter of 
 course ; but not a speck. • So, when 
 he got there, he did not look seaward, 
 but just saw that his flagstaff was all 
 right and was about to turn away 
 and go iiomc, when he happened to 
 glance at the water; and there, under- 
 neath him, he saw — a ship; standing 
 towards the island. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVL 
 
 He started, and rubbed his eyes, 
 and looked again. It was no delu- 
 sion. Things never did come as they 
 are expected to come. There was 
 still no doubtful speck on the horizon ; 
 but within eight miles of the island.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 137 
 
 — nnd in this lorely air that looked 
 nci.rlv close, — was a ship, under can- 
 vas. " She bore S. E. liora Mount 
 Loolvout, and S. S. E. from the East 
 Blutf of the island, towards which 
 her course was apparently directed. 
 She had a fiiir wind, but was not 
 going fast; being heavily laden, and 
 under no press of sail. A keen thrill 
 went through him ; and his mind was 
 a whirl. He ran home with the great 
 news. 
 
 But, even as he ran, a cold sickly 
 fueling crawled over him. 
 
 " That ship parts her and me." 
 He resisted the feeling as a thing 
 too monstrous and selfish, and resist- 
 ed it so fiercely, that, when he got to 
 the slopes and saw Helen busy at her 
 work, he waved his hat and hurralied 
 again and again, and seemed almost 
 mad with triumph. 
 
 Helen stood transfixed, she had 
 never seen him in such a state. 
 
 " Good news ! " ho cried ; " great 
 news ! A ship in sight ! You are 
 rescued ! " 
 
 Her heart leaped into her mouth. 
 " A ship ! " she screamed. " Where ? 
 Where 1 " 
 
 He came up to her, panting. 
 " Close under the island. Hid by 
 the blutf ; but you will see her in half 
 an hour. God be praised ! Get ev- 
 erything ready to go. Hurrah ! This 
 is our last day on the island." 
 
 The words were brave, and loud, 
 and boisterous, but the face was pale 
 and drawn, and Helen saw it, and, 
 though she bustled and got ready to 
 leave, the tears were in liereyes. But 
 the event was too great to be resisted. 
 A wild excitement grew on them both. 
 They ran about like persons crazed, 
 and took things up, and laid them 
 down again, scarcely knowing what 
 they were doing. But pi'esently they 
 were sobered a little, for the ship did 
 not appear. Tiiey ran across the 
 sands, where they could see the bluif; 
 she ought to have passed that half 
 an hour ago. 
 
 Hazel thought she must have an- 
 chored. 
 
 Helen looked at him steadily. 
 
 " Dear friend," said she, " are you 
 sure there is a ship at all ? Aie 
 you not under a delusion 1 Tiiis 
 island fills the mind with fancies. 
 One day 1 thought I saw a ship sail- 
 ing in the sky. Ah ! " She uttered 
 a faint scream, for while she was 
 speaking the bowsprit ami jib of a ves- 
 sel glided past the bluff so closely 
 they seemed to scrape it, and a ship 
 emerged grandly, and glided along 
 the cliff. 
 
 " Are they mad," cried Hazel, " to 
 hug the shore hke thaf? Ah! they 
 have seen my warning." 
 
 And it appeared so, for the ship just 
 then came up in the wind several 
 points, and left the bluff' dead astern. 
 
 Slie sailed a little way on that 
 course, and then paid off" again, and 
 seemed inclined to range along the 
 coast. But presently she was up in 
 the wind again, and made a greater 
 offing. She was sailed in a strange, 
 vacillating way ; but Hazel ascribed 
 this to her people's fear of the reefs he 
 had indicated to all comers. The 
 better to watch her manoeuvres, and 
 signal her if necessar}-, they botli went 
 up to Telegraph Point. They could 
 not go out to her, being low water. 
 Seen from this height, the working of 
 this vessel was unaccountable. She 
 was to and off' the wind as often as if 
 she was drunk herself, or command- 
 ed by a drunken skipper. However, 
 she was kept well clear of the home 
 reefs, and made a good offing, and 
 so at last she opened the bay head- 
 ing N. W., and distant four miles, or 
 thereabouts. Now was the time to 
 drop her anchor. So Hazel worked 
 the telegraph to draw her attention, 
 and waved his hat and hand to her. 
 But the ship sailed on. She yawed 
 immensely, but she kept her course ; 
 and, when she had gone a mile or 
 two more, the sickening truth forced 
 itself at last upon those eayer watch- 
 ers. She had decided not to tou<h 
 at the island. In vain their jovial 
 signals. In vain the telegraph. In 
 vaia that cry for help upon the eastern
 
 138 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 cliff: it had saved her, but not pleaded 
 for tliem. TIil- riioiisters saw tln-in on 
 the lieiuht, — tliuir hope, tlieir joy, — 
 saw ami ali;iiidoiied tiicin. 
 
 They looked at one another with 
 dihitini:: eyes, to read in a liunian face 
 wliether sueh a deed as this eould 
 really be done by man upon his fel 
 low. Then they uttered wild eries to 
 the receding vessel. 
 
 Vain, vain, all was in vain. 
 Then they sat down stupefied, but 
 still ghirin<; at the ship, and eaeh at 
 the same moment held out a hand to 
 the other, and they sat hand in hand ; 
 all the world to each other just then, 
 for there was the world in sight aban- 
 doning them in cold blood. 
 
 " Be calm, dear friend," said 
 Helen, patiently. " O my poor fa- 
 ther ! " And her other hand threw her 
 apron over her head, and tiien came a 
 burst of anguish that no words could 
 utter. 
 
 At this Hazel started to his feet in 
 fury. 
 
 '"' Now may the God that made 
 sea and land judge between those 
 miscreants there and you ! " 
 
 "Be patient," said Helen, sobbing. 
 " O be patient." 
 
 "No! I will not be patient," 
 roared Hazel. " Judge thou her cause, 
 O God; each of these tears against a 
 reptile's soul." 
 
 And so he stood glaring, and his 
 hair blowing wildly to the breeze ; 
 while she sighed patiently at his knee. 
 Presently he began to watch tiie 
 vessel with a grini and bitter eye. 
 Anon he burst out suddenly, " Aha ! 
 that is right. Well steered. Don't 
 cry, sweet one ; our cause is heard. 
 Are they blind ? Arc they drunk '! 
 Are they sick t I see nobody on 
 deck ! Perhaps I have been too — 
 God forgive me, the ship 's ashore ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIL 
 
 Helen looked up ; and there was 
 the ship fast, and on her side. She 
 
 was on the White Water Reef. Not 
 upon the black rocks themselves, but 
 on a part of them that was under 
 water. 
 
 Hazel ran down to the beach ; and 
 there Plelen found him greatly agi- 
 tated. All his anger was gone ; he 
 had but one thougiit now, — to go 
 out to her assistance. But it still 
 wanted an hour to high water, and it 
 was blowing smartly, and there was 
 nearly always a surf upon that reef 
 What if the vessel should break up, 
 and lives be lost ? 
 
 He paced the sands like a wild 
 beast in its cage, in an agony of pity, 
 remorse, and burning impatience. 
 His feelings became intolerable; he 
 set his l)ack to the boat, and with her- 
 culean strength forced it down a little 
 way to meet the tide. He got logs 
 and put them down for rollers. Ho 
 strove, he strained, he struggled, till 
 his face and hands were' purple. And 
 at last he met the flowing tide, and in 
 a moment jumped into the boat, and 
 pushed off. Helen begged with spar- 
 kling eyes to be allowed to accom- 
 pany him. 
 
 " What, to a ship smitten with 
 scurvy or Heaven knows what? Cer- 
 tainly not. Besides, you would be 
 wet through ; it is blowing rather 
 fresh, and I shall carry on. l^ray 
 for the poor souls I go to help ; 
 and for me, who have siimed in my 
 anger." 
 
 He hoisted his sail, and ran out. 
 Helen stood on the bank, and 
 watched him with tender admiration. 
 How good and brave he was ! And 
 he could go into a passion too, when 
 she was wronged, or when he thought 
 she was. 'WcW ! she admired him 
 none the less for that. She watched 
 him at first with admiration, but soon 
 with anxiety ; for he had no sooner 
 passed North Gate, than the cutter, 
 having both sails set, though reefed, 
 lay down very much, and her hull 
 kept disappearing. Helen felt anx- 
 ious, and would have been dt)wnright 
 frightened, but for her confideuee iu 
 his prowess.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 139 
 
 By and by only her staggering sails 
 were visible ; and the sun set ere slic 
 readied the creek. Tliewiiul decUned 
 with the sun, and Helen made two 
 great tires, and prepared food for the 
 suffei'ers ; for she made sure Hazel 
 would bring them off in a few hours 
 more. She promised herself the liap- 
 piness of relieving the distressed. 
 But to her infinite surprise she found 
 lierself almost regretting that the 
 island was likely to be peopled with 
 strangers. No matter, she should sit 
 up for them all night, and be very 
 kind to them, poor things; thougli 
 they had not been very kind to her. 
 
 About midnight, the wind shifted 
 to the northwest, and blew hard. 
 
 Helen ran down to the shore, and 
 looked seawiird. This was a fair 
 wind for Hazel's return; and she 
 began to expect him every hour. But 
 no ; he delayed unaccountably. 
 
 And the worst of it was, it began to 
 blow a gale; and this wind sent the 
 sea rolling into the bay in a manner 
 that alarmed her seriously. 
 
 The nii^ht wore on ; no signs of 
 the boat ; and now there was a heavy 
 gale outside, and a great sea rolling 
 in, brown and foaming. 
 
 Day broke, and showed the sea for 
 a mile or two ; the rest was hidden by 
 driving rain. 
 
 Helen kneeled on the shore and 
 prayed for him. 
 
 Dire misgivings oppressed her. 
 And soon these were heightened to 
 terror; for the sea began to disgorge 
 things of a kind that had never come 
 ashore before. A great ship's mast 
 came tossing:- huge as it was, the 
 waves handled it like a toy. Then 
 came a barrel ; then a broken spar. 
 These were but the forerunners of 
 more feartui havoc. 
 
 The sea became strewed and liter- 
 ally blackened with fragments; part 
 wreck, part cargo, of a broken vessel. 
 
 But what was all this compared 
 with the horror that followed ? 
 
 A black object cau;;ht her eye; 
 driven in upon the crest of a wave. 
 
 She looked, with her hair flying 
 
 straight back, and her eyes almost 
 starting from her liead. 
 
 It was a boat, bottom up ; driven on, 
 and tossed like a cork. 
 
 It came nearer, nearer, nearer. 
 
 She dashed into the water with a 
 wild scream, but a wave beat her 
 backward on the sand, and, as she 
 rose, an enormous roller lifted the 
 boat upright into the air, and, break- 
 ing, dashed it keel uppermost on the 
 beach at her side — empty ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIIL 
 
 Helen uttered a shriek of agony, 
 and her knees smote together, and she 
 would have swooned on the spot but 
 for the wind and the spray that beat 
 against her. 
 
 To the fearful stun succeeded the 
 wildest distress. She ran to and fro 
 like some wild animal bereaved ; she 
 kept wringing her hands and uttering 
 cries of pity and despair, and went 
 back to the boat a hundred times ; it 
 held her by a spell. 
 
 It was long before she could think 
 connectedly, and, even then, it was 
 not of herself, nor of her lonely state, 
 but only. Why did not she die with 
 him ? Why did she not die instead of 
 himi 
 
 He had been all the world to her; 
 and now she knew it. O what a 
 friend, what a champion, what a lover, 
 these cruel waves had destroyed ! 
 
 The morning broke, and still she 
 hovered and hovered about the fatal 
 boat, with great horror-stricken eyes, 
 and hair flying to the breeze ; and 
 not a tear. If she could only have 
 smoothed his last moments, have 
 spoken one word into his dying ear ! 
 But no ! Her jjoor hero had died in 
 going to save oihers ; died thinking 
 her as cold as the waters that had 
 destroyed him. 
 
 Dead or alive he was all the world 
 to her now. She went, wailing 
 piteously, and imploring the waves to 
 give her at least his dead body to
 
 140 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 speak to, and mourn over. But the 
 sea denied her even that dismal con- 
 solatiuii. 
 
 The next tide brought in a few 
 more fragments of tlie wreek, but no 
 corpse floated asliore. 
 
 Tiieu, at last, as tlie waves once 
 more retired, leaviiiij, this lime, only 
 petty fragments of wreck on tlie 
 beacli, she hfied up her voiee, and al- 
 most wept her heart out of her body. 
 
 buch tears as these are seldom 
 without effect on the mind : and Helen 
 now began to rebel, thougli faintly, 
 against despair. She had been fjuite 
 crushed, at first, under the material 
 evidence, — tlie boat driven empty by 
 the very wind and waves that liad done 
 the cruel deed. But the heart is 
 averse to believe calamity and especial- 
 ly bereavement ; and very ingenious 
 in arguing against that bitterest of 
 all woes. So she now sat down and 
 brooded, and lier mind fastened with 
 pathetic ingenuity on every circum- 
 stance that could bear a favorable con- 
 struction^ The mast had not been 
 bruken ; how, then, had it been lost? 
 The body had not come ashore. He 
 had had time to get to the wreck before 
 the gale from tlie north came on at 
 all : and why should a fair wind, 
 thougii powerful, upset the boat? 
 On these slender things she began to 
 build a superstructure of hope ; but 
 soon her heart interrupted the reason- 
 ing. " What would he do in my 
 place ? would he sit guessing while 
 hope had a hair to hang by ? " 
 That thought struck her like a spur: 
 and in a moment she bounded into 
 action, erect, her lips fixed, and her 
 eye on fire, though her cheek was 
 very pale. She went swiftly to Ha- 
 zel's store, and searched it; there 
 she found the jib-sail, a boat-hook, 
 some rope, and one little oar, that 
 Hazel was making for her, and had 
 not quite completed. The sight 
 of this, his last work, overpowered 
 h vT again ; and she sat down and 
 took it on her knees, and kissed it, 
 and cried over it. And these tears 
 weakened her for a time. She felt 
 
 it, and had the resolution to leave the 
 oar behind. A single oar was of no 
 use to row with. She rigged the boat- 
 hook as a mast ; and fastened tiie sail 
 to ic ; and, with this poor equipment, 
 she actually resolved to put out to sea. 
 
 The wind still blew smartly, and 
 there was no blue sky visible. 
 
 And now she remembered she had 
 eaten nothing ; tiiat would not do. 
 Her strength might fail her. She 
 made ready a meal, and ate it almost 
 fiercely, and by a pure etlbrt of resolu- 
 tion ; as she was doing all the rest. 
 
 By this time, it was nearly high 
 tide. She watched the water creeping 
 up. Will it float the boat ? It rises 
 over the keel ; two inches, three 
 inches. Five inches water ! Now 
 she pushes with all her strength. 
 No ; the boat has water in it she had 
 forgotten to bale out. She straiucd 
 every nerve, but could not move it. 
 She stopped to take breath, and hus- 
 band her strength. But, when she re- 
 newed her efturts, the five inches were 
 four, and she had the misery of seeing 
 the water crawl away by degrees, and 
 leave the boat high and dry. 
 
 She sighed, heart-broken, awhile ; 
 then went home and prayed. 
 
 When she had prayed a long time for 
 strength and wisdom, she lay down for 
 an hour, and tried to slee}), but failed. 
 Then she prepared for a more serious 
 struggle with the many difficulties she 
 had to encounter. Now she thanked 
 God more than ever for the health and 
 rare strength she had aciiuired in this 
 island : without them she could have 
 done nothing now. She got a clay 
 platter, and baled th» vessel nearly 
 dry. She left a little water for ballast. 
 She fortilied herself with food, and 
 put provisions and water on board the 
 boat. In imitation of Hazel, she went 
 and got two round logs, and, as soon 
 as the tide crawled u]) to four inches, 
 she lifted the bow a little, and got a 
 roller under. Then she went to the 
 boat's stern, set her teeth, an<l puslied 
 with a rush of excitement that gave 
 her almost a man's strengtii. 
 1 The stubborn boat seemed elastic.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 141 
 
 and all but moved. Then instinct | 
 taught Iier wliere her true strength 
 lav. She got to the stern of the boat, 
 and, settinfx the small of her back un- 
 der the projecting gunwale, she gath- 
 ered herself togetiier and gave a su- 
 perb heave, that moved the boat a 
 foot. She followed it up, and heaved 
 again with like effect. Then, with a 
 cry of joy, she ran and put down an- 
 other roller forward. The boat was 
 now on two rollers : one more mag- 
 niticent heave with all her zeal, and 
 strength, and youth, and the boat 
 glided forward' She turned and 
 rushed at it as it went, and the water 
 deepening, and a gust catching the 
 Siiil, it went out to sea, and she had 
 only just time to throw herself across 
 the gunwale, panting. She was 
 afloat. The wind was S. W., and, 
 before she knew where she was, 
 tlie boat headed towards the home 
 reefs, and slipped through the water 
 pretty fast considering how small a 
 sail "she carried. She ran to the 
 hchn. Alas I the rudder was broken 
 off above the water line. The helm 
 was a mockery, and the boat running 
 for the reefs. She slacked the sheet, 
 and the boat lost her way, and began 
 to drift with the tide, which luckily 
 had not yet turned. It carried her in 
 shore. 
 
 Helen cast her eyes around her for 
 an expedient, and slie unshipped one 
 of the transoms, and by trailing over 
 the side, and alternately slacking and 
 hauling the sheet, she contrived to 
 make the boat crawl like a winged 
 bird through the western passage. 
 Afier that it soon got becalmed un- 
 der the cliff, and drifted into two feet 
 water. 
 
 Instantly she tied a rope to the 
 mast, got out into the water, and 
 took the rope ashore. She tied it 
 round a heavy barrel she found there, 
 and set the barrel up, and heaped 
 stones round it and on it, whi( h, un- 
 fortunately, was a long job, though 
 she worked with feverish haste ; then 
 she went round the point, sometimes 
 wet and sometimes dry, for the little 
 
 oar she had left behind because it 
 broke her heart to look at. Away 
 with such weakness now ! VVitIa 
 that oar, his last work, she might 
 steer if she could not row. Slie got 
 it. She came back to the boat to re- 
 comrnence her voyage. 
 
 She found the boat all safe, but in 
 six inches of water, and the tide going 
 out. So ended her voyage ; four 
 hundred yards at most, and then to 
 wait another twelve hours for the 
 tide. 
 
 It was too cruel : and every hour 
 so precious : for, even if Hazel was 
 alive, he would die of cold and hun- 
 ger ere she could get to him. She 
 cried like any woman. 
 
 She persisted like a man. 
 
 She made several trips, and put 
 away things in the boat that could 
 possibly be of use, — abundant pro- 
 vision, and a keg of water; Hazel's 
 wooden spade to paddle or steer with ; 
 his basket of tools, &c. Then she 
 snatched some sleep ; but it was bro- 
 ken by sad and terrible dreams : then 
 she waited in an agony of impatience 
 for high w.iter. 
 
 We are not always the best judges 
 of what is good for us. Probably 
 these delays saved her own life. She 
 went out at last under far more fa- 
 vorable circumstances, — a light west- 
 erly breeze, and no reefs to pass 
 through. She was, liowever, severely 
 incommoded with a ground-swell. 
 
 At first she steered with the spade 
 as well as she could ; but she found 
 this was not sufficient. The current 
 ran westerly, and she was drifting out 
 of her course. Then she rememl)cred 
 Hazel's lessjy^ and made shift to 
 fasten the spj^to the helm, and then 
 lashed the helm. Even this did not 
 quite do; so she took her little oar, 
 kissed it, cried over it a little, and 
 then pulled manfully with it so as 
 to keep the true course. It was a 
 muggy day, neither wet nor dry. 
 White Water Island was not in sight 
 from Godsend Island ; but, as soon as 
 she lost the latter, the former became 
 visible, — an ugly grinning reef, with
 
 142 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 an eternal surf on the south and 
 western sides. 
 
 Oiten .slie left off rowing, and turned 
 to look at it. It was all black and 
 blank, except the white and fatal 
 surf. 
 
 When she was about four* miles 
 from the nearest part of the reef, 
 there was a rush and bubble in the 
 water, and a j^reat shark came after 
 the boat. Helen screamed, and turned 
 very cold. She dreaded the monster, 
 not for what he could do now, but for 
 what he m i^^ht ha ve done. He seemed 
 to know the boat, he swam so vigi- 
 lantly behind it. Was he there when 
 the boat upset with Hazel in it? Was 
 it in his greedy maw the remains of 
 her best friend must be sought ? Her 
 lips opened, but no sound. She 
 shud<iered and hid her face at this aw- 
 ful tliouglit. 
 
 Tiie shark followed steadily. 
 
 She got to the reef, but did not hit 
 it olFas she intended. She ran under 
 its lee, lowered the little snil, and 
 steered the boat into a nick where the 
 shark could hardly follow her. 
 
 But he moved to and fro like a sen- 
 tinel, while she landed in trepidation 
 and secured the boat to the branches 
 of a white coral rock. 
 
 She found the place much larger 
 than it looked from Telegraph Point. 
 It was an archii)elago of coral reef in- 
 crusted here and there with shells. 
 She could not see all over it, where 
 she was, so she made for what seemed 
 the highest part, a bleak, sea-weedy 
 mound, with some sandy hillocks 
 about it. She went up to this, and 
 looked eagerly all round. 
 
 Not a soul. ^ 
 
 She called as loud m her sinking 
 heart would let her. 
 
 Not a sound. 
 
 Siie felt very sick, and sat down 
 upon the mound. 
 
 When she had yielded awhile to 
 the weakness of lier .sex, she got up, 
 and was her father's daughter again. 
 Slie set to work to examine every foot 
 of the reef. 
 
 It was no easy task. The rocks 
 
 were rugged and sharp in places, slip- 
 pery in otliers ; often she had to go 
 about, and once she fell and luiit her 
 pretty hands and made them bleed; 
 she never looked at them, nor heeded, 
 but got up and sigiied at the inierrup- 
 tion : then patiently persisted. It 
 took her two hours to examine thus, 
 in detail, one half the island : but at 
 last she discovered something. She 
 saw at the eastern side of the reef a 
 wooden figure of a woman, and, mak- 
 ing her way to it, found the figure- 
 head and a piece of the bow of the 
 ship, with a sail on it, and a yard on 
 that. This fragment was wedged into 
 an angle of the reef, and tiie seaward 
 edge of it shattered in a way that 
 struck terror to Helen, for it showed 
 her how omnipotent the sea had been. 
 On the reef itself she found a cask 
 with its head stove in, also a little keg 
 and two wooden chests or cases. But 
 what was all this to her ? 
 
 She sat down again, for her knees 
 failed her. Prcsenily there was a sort 
 of moan near her, and a seal splashed 
 into the water and dived out of her 
 sight. Slie put her hands on her 
 heart, and bowed her head down, ut- 
 terly desolate. She sat thus for a long 
 time indeed, until she was interrupted 
 by a most unexpected visitor. 
 
 Something came .sniffing up to her 
 and put a cold nose to her hand. 
 She started violently, and both her 
 hands were in the air in a moment. 
 
 It was a dog, a pointer. He whim- 
 pered and tried to gambol, but could 
 not manage it ; he was too weak. 
 However, he contrived to let her see, 
 with the wagging of his tail and a 
 certain contemporaneous twist of his 
 emaciated body, that she was wel- 
 come. But, having performed this 
 ceremony, he trotted feebly away, 
 leaving her very much startled, and 
 not knowing what to tliink ; indeed, 
 this incident set her trembhng all 
 over. 
 
 A dog saved from the wreck ! Then 
 why not a man ? And why not that 
 life 1 O, thought she, would God
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 143 
 
 save that creature, and not pity my 
 poor anjjel and me 1 
 
 She pot up animated with hope, 
 and recommenced her researches. She 
 now l\ept at the outward edge of the 
 ishind, and so went all round till she 
 reached her boat again. The shark 
 was swimming to and fro, waiting for 
 her with horrible pertinacity. She 
 tried to eat a mouthful, but, though 
 she was faint, she could not eat. She 
 drank a moutliful of water, and then 
 went to search the very small portion 
 that remained of the reef, and to take 
 the poor dog home with her, because 
 he she had lost was so good to ani- 
 mals. Only his example is left me, 
 she said ; and with that came another 
 burst of sorrow. But she got up and 
 did the rest of her work, crying as she 
 went. After some severe travelling 
 she got near the northeast limit, and 
 in a sort of gully she saw the don;, 
 quietly seated high on his tail. She 
 called him ; but he never moved. So 
 then she went to iiim, and, when she 
 got near him, she saw why he would 
 not come. He was watching. Close 
 by him lay tlie form of a man nearly 
 covered with sea-weed. The feet were 
 visible, and so was the face, the latter 
 deadly pale. It was he. In a mo- 
 ment siie was by him, and leaning 
 over him with both hands quivering. 
 Was he dead 1 No ; his eyes were 
 closed ; he was fast asleep. 
 
 Her hands flew to his face to feel 
 him alive, and then grasped both his 
 hands and drew them up towards her 
 panting bosom : and the tears of joy 
 streamed from her eyes, as she sobbed 
 and murmured over him, she knew 
 not what. At that he avyoke and 
 stared at her. He uttered a loud 
 ejaculation of joy and wonder, then, 
 taking it all in, burst into tears him- 
 self and fell to kissing her hands and 
 blessing Iter. The poor soul had al- 
 most given himself up for lost. And 
 to be saved, all in a moment, and by 
 her ! 
 
 They could neither of them speak, 
 but only mingled tears of joy and 
 gratitude. 
 
 Hazel recovered himself first ; and, 
 rising somewhat stiffly, lent her his 
 arm. Her father's spirit went out of 
 her in the moment of victory, and she 
 was all W'Oman, — sweet, loving, cling- 
 ing woman. She got hold of his hand 
 as well as his arm, and ckitchud it so 
 tight, her little grasp seemed velvet 
 and steel. 
 
 " Let me feel you," said she : " but 
 no words ! no words ! " 
 
 He supported his preserver ten- 
 derly to the boat, then, hoisting the 
 sail, he fetched the east side in two 
 tacks, shipped the sail and yard, and 
 also the cask, keg, and boxes. He 
 then put a great quantity of loose oys- 
 ters on board, each as large as a plate. 
 She looked at him with amazement. 
 
 " What," said she, when he had 
 quite loaded the boat, "only just out 
 of the jaws of death, and yet you can 
 trouble your head about oysters and 
 things." 
 
 " Wait till you see what I shall do 
 with them," said he. " These are 
 pearl oysters. I gathered them for 
 you, when I had little hope I should 
 ever see you again to give them you." 
 
 This was an unlucky speech. The 
 act, that seemed so small and natural 
 a thing to him, the woman's heart 
 measured more correctly. Something 
 rose in her throat ; she tried to laugh 
 instead of crying, and so she did both, 
 and went into a violent fit of hysterics 
 that showed how thoroughly her na- 
 ture had been stirred to its depths. 
 She quite frightened Hazel ^ and, in- 
 deed, the strength of an excited wo- 
 man's weakness is sometimes alarm- 
 ing to manly natures. 
 
 He did all he could to soothe her; 
 without much success. As soon as 
 she was better he set sail, thinking 
 home was the best place for her. She 
 leant back exhausted, and, after a 
 while, seemed to be asleep. We don't 
 believe she was, but Hazel did ; and 
 sat, cold and aching in body, but 
 warm at heart, worshipping her with 
 all his eyes. 
 
 At last they got ashore ; and he sat 
 by her fire and told her all, while she
 
 144 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 cooked his supper and warmed clothes 
 at the fire for him. 
 
 " The sliip/' siiiil ho, " was aDutch 
 vessel, houiul (Vom Butavia to Caliao, 
 that IukI probably L;one on lier l)cam 
 ends, for she was full of water. Her 
 crew had abandoned her ; I think 
 they underrated the buoyancy of the 
 ship and cargo. They left tiic poor 
 do;^ on board. Her helm was lashed 
 a-\veather a couple of turns, but wliy 
 that was done I cannot tell lor tlie 
 life of me. I boarded lier ; unshipped 
 my mast, and moored tiie boat to the 
 ship ; fed the poor do}^ ; rummaged 
 in the hold, and contrived to hoist up 
 a small cask of sailed beef, and a keg 
 of rum, and some cases of grain and 
 seeds. I managed to slide these on 
 to the reef by means of the mast and 
 oar lashed together. But a roller 
 ground the wreck farther on to the 
 reef, and the sudden snap broke the 
 rope, as I suppose, and the boat went 
 to sea. I never knew the misfortune 
 till I saw her adrift. I couhl have 
 got over that by making a raft ; but 
 the gale from tlie north hiought such 
 a sea on us. I saw she must break 
 up, so I got ashore how I could. Ah, 
 I little thought to see your face again, 
 still less that I should owe my life to 
 you." 
 
 " Spare me," said Helen, faintly. 
 
 " What, must not I thank you even 
 for my life 1 " 
 
 " No. Tlie account is far from even 
 
 yet." 
 
 " You *re no arithmetician to say 
 so. What astonishes me most is, that 
 you have never once scolded me for 
 all the troul>le and anxiety — " 
 
 " I am too happy to see you sitting 
 there, to scold you. But still I do 
 ask you to leave the sea alone after 
 this. The treacherous monster ! O, 
 think what you and I have suffered 
 on it." 
 
 She seemed quite worn out. He 
 saw that, and rutired for tlie night, | 
 casting one more wistful glance on \ 
 her. But at that moment she was 
 afraid to look at him. Her heart 
 was welling over with tenderness for 
 
 the dear friend whose life she had 
 saved. 
 
 Next morning Hazel rose at day- 
 break as nsual, but found himself stiff 
 in the joints, and witli a pain in his 
 back. The mat that imng at the open- 
 ing of Helen's cave was not removed 
 as usual. She was on her bed with 
 a violent headache. 
 
 Hazel fed Ponto, and corrected 
 him. He was at present a civilized 
 dog ; so he made a weak rush at the 
 boobies and noddies directly. 
 
 He also smelt Tommy inquisitively, 
 to learn was he an eatahle. Tommy 
 somehow divined the end of this sin- 
 ister curiositv, and showed his teeth. 
 
 Then Hazel got a rope, and tied 
 one end round his own waist, and one 
 round Ponto 's neck, and, at every out- 
 tneak of civilization, jerked him sharp- 
 ly on to his hack. Tlie effect of this 
 discipline was rapid ; Ponto soon 
 found that he must not make war on 
 the inhabitants of the island. He was 
 a docile animal, and in a very short 
 time consented to make one of " the 
 ha]ipy family," as Hazel called the 
 miscellaneous crew that beset him. 
 
 Helen and Hazel did not meet till 
 past noon ; and when they did meet 
 it was plain she had heen thinking 
 a great deal, for her greeting was so 
 shy and restrained as to ajipear cold 
 and distant to Hazel. He thought to 
 liimself, I was too hapj)y yesterday, 
 and she too kind. Of course it could 
 not last. 
 
 This change in her seemed to grow, 
 rather than diminish. She carried it 
 so far as to go and almost hide during 
 the working hours. She made off to 
 the jungle, and spent an unreasonable 
 time there. She ]irofessed to he col- 
 lecting cotton, and it must be admit- 
 ted she brought a good deal home 
 with her. But Hazel couhl not ac- 
 cept cotton as the only motive for this 
 sudden separation. 
 
 He lost the light of her face till the 
 evening. Then matters took another 
 turn : she was too polite. Ceremony 
 and courtesy appeared to be gradually
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 145 
 
 encroaching upon tender friendship 
 and familiarity : yet, now and then, 
 her soft hazel eyes seemed to turn on 
 him in silence, and say, forgive me all 
 this. Tlien, at those sweet looks, love 
 and forgiveness poured out of his eyes. 
 And tiien hers sought the groiuid. 
 And this was generally followed hy a 
 certain mixture of stilfnes^, timidity, 
 and formality, too subtle to describe. 
 
 The much-enduring man began to 
 lose patience. 
 
 " This is caprice," said he. " Cruel 
 caprice." 
 
 Our female readers will probably 
 take a deeper view of it than that. 
 Whatever it was, another change was 
 at hand. Since he was so exposed to 
 the weather on the reef, Hazel had 
 never been free from pain ; but he had 
 done his best to work it off. He had 
 collected all the valuables from the 
 wreck, made a new mast, set up a 
 rude capstan to draw the boat ashore, 
 and cut a little dock for her at low 
 water, and clayed it in the full heat of 
 the sun ; and, having accomplished 
 this drudgery, he got at last to his 
 labor of love; he opened a quantity 
 of pearl oysters, fed Tommy and the 
 duck with tliem, and began the great 
 work of lining the cavern with them. 
 The said cavern was somewhat shell- 
 shaped, and his idea was to make it 
 out of a gloomy cavern into a va'^t 
 shell, lined entirely, roof and sides, 
 with glorious, sweet, prismatic moth- 
 er-of-pearl, fresh from ocean. Well, 
 one morning while Helen was in the 
 jungle, he made a cement of guano, 
 sand, clay, and water, nipped some 
 shells to a shape with the pincers, and 
 cemented them neatly, like mosaic 
 almost ; but in the middle of his work 
 he was cut down by the disorder he 
 had combated so stoutly. He fairly 
 gave in, and sat down groaning with 
 pain. And in this state Helen found 
 him. 
 
 " what is the matter ? " said 
 she. 
 
 He told her the truth, and said he 
 had violent pains in the back and 
 head. She did not say much, but she 
 10 
 
 turned pale. She bustled and lighted 
 a great tire, and made him lie down 
 by it. She propped his head up ; she 
 set water on to boil for him, and would 
 not let him move for anything ; and 
 all the time her features were brimful 
 of the loveliest concern. He could 
 not help thinking how much better it 
 was to be ill and in pain, and have her 
 so kind, than to be well, and see her 
 cold and distant. Towards evening 
 he got better, or rather he mistook an 
 intermission for cure, and retired to 
 his boat ; but she made him take her 
 rug with him ; and, when he was 
 gone, she could not sleep for anxiety ; 
 and it cut her to the heart to think 
 how poorly he was lodged compared 
 with her. 
 
 Of all the changes fate could bring, 
 this she had never dreamed of that 
 she should be so robust, and he should 
 be sick and in pain. 
 
 She passed an uneasy, restless 
 night, and long before morning she 
 awoke for the sixth or seventh time, 
 and she awoke with a misgiving in 
 her mind, and some sound ringing in 
 her ears. She listened and heard 
 nothing ; but in a few moments it 
 began a2:ain. 
 
 It was Hazel talking, — talking in 
 a manner so fist, so strange, so loud, 
 that it made her blood run cold. It was 
 the voice of Hazel, but not his mind. 
 
 She drew near, and, to her dismay, 
 found him fever-stricken, and pouring 
 out words with little sequence. She 
 came close to him and tried to soothe 
 hiin, but he answered her quite at 
 random, and went on flinging out the 
 strangest things in stranger order. 
 She trembled and waited for a lull, 
 hoping then to soothe him with soft 
 words and tones of tender pity. 
 
 " Dens and caves ! " he roared, 
 answering an imaginary detractor. 
 " Well, never mind, love shall make 
 that hole in the rock a palace for a 
 queen ; for a queen 1 For the queen. 
 Here he suddenly changed characters 
 and fancied he was interpreting the 
 discourse of another. " He means the 
 Queen of the Fairies," said he, patron-
 
 146 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 izingly : then, resuming his own char- 
 acter with loud (Ictiaiice, " I say her 
 chamber .sliiiU out>hine the gh)ries 
 of the Aliiainbra, as far as the lilies 
 outshone the artificial glories of King 
 Solomon. O mighty Nature, let oth- 
 ers rely on the painter, the gold-beater, 
 the carver of marble, come you and 
 help me adorn the temple of my be- 
 loved. Amen." 
 
 (The poor soul thought, by the 
 sound of his own words, it must be a 
 prayer he uttered.) 
 
 And now Helen, with streaming 
 eyes, tried to put in a word, but he 
 stopped her with a wild hush ! and 
 went off into a scries of mysterious 
 whisiierings. " Make no noise, please, 
 or we shall frighten her. There — 
 that is her window — no noise, please ! 
 I've watched and waited four hours, 
 just to see her sweet, darling shadow 
 on the blinds, and shall I lose it for 
 your small talk ? all paradoxes and 
 platitudes ! excuse my plain speaking 
 
 — hush ! here it comes, — her shadow 
 
 — hush! — how my heart beats. It 
 is gone. So now" (speaking out), 
 " good night, base world ! Do you 
 hear ? you company of liars, thieves, 
 and traitors, called the world, go and 
 sleep if you can. I shall sleep : be- 
 cause my conscience is clear. False. 
 accusalio)is ! Who can help them ? 
 They are the act of otiiers. Read of 
 Job, and Paul, and Joan of Arc. No, 
 no, no, no; I did n't say read 'cm out 
 with those stentorian lungs. I must 
 be allowed a little sleep, a man that 
 wastes tiie midnight oil, yet brushes 
 the early dew. Good night." 
 
 He turned round and slept for 
 several hours as he supposed ; but 
 in reality he was silent for just three 
 seconds. " Weil," said he, " and is a 
 gardener a man to be looked down 
 upon by upstarts ] When Adam 
 delved and Eve span, where was then 
 the gentleman i Why, where the 
 spade was. Yet I went through the 
 Herald's College, and not one of our 
 mushroom aristocracy ('bloated' I 
 object to ; tiicy don't cat half as 
 much as their footmen) had a spade 
 
 for a crest. There 's nothing ancient 
 west of the Caspian. Well, all the 
 better. For there 's no fool like an 
 old fool. A spade 's a spade for a 
 that, an a that, an a that, an a that, 
 — an a that, — an a that. Hallo! 
 Stop that man ; he 's gone off on his 
 cork leg, of a that, ou a that, — and 
 it is my wish to be cpiict. Allow me 
 rcspectiully to observe," said he, 
 striking off suddenly into an air of 
 vast politeness, " that man requires 
 change. I 've done a jolly good day's 
 work with the spade for this old 
 Buffer, and now the intellect claims 
 its turn. The mind retires above the 
 noisy world to its Acropolis, and 
 there discusses the great problem of 
 the day; tiie Insular Enigma. To 
 be or not to be, that is the question, I 
 believe. No it is not. That is fully 
 discussed elsewhere. Hum ! To dif- 
 fuse — intelligence — from a tixed 
 island — over one hundred leagues of 
 water. 
 
 " It 's a stinger. But I can't com- 
 plain. I had read Lcnijjricre, and 
 Smith and Bryant, and mythology in 
 general : yet I must go and fall in 
 love with the Sphinx. Men are so 
 vain. Vanity whispered she will set 
 you a light one ; why is a cobbler 
 like a king, for instance ? She is in 
 love with you, ye fool, if you arc with 
 her. The harder the riddle the higher 
 the compliment the Sphinx pays you. 
 That is the way all sensible men look 
 at it. She is not the Sphinx : she is 
 an angel, and I call her ifly Lady 
 Cajii'icc. Hate Iter for heiiu/ Caprice ! 
 You incorrigible muddle head. Wiiy, 
 I love Caprice for being her shadow. 
 Poor, impotent love that can't solve a 
 problem. The only one she ever set 
 me. I 've gone about it like a fool. 
 What is the use putting up little bits 
 of telegraphs on the island ? I '11 make 
 a kite a hundred feet high, get five 
 miles of rope ready against the next 
 hurricane ; and then I '11 rub it with 
 pho-iphorus and lly it. But what can 
 I fasten it tol No tree would hold it. 
 Dunce ! To the island itself, of course. 
 And now go to Stuntle, INLagg, JMcl-
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 147 
 
 ton, and Copestake for one thousand 
 yards of silk, — Monei/ ! Alonei/ 1 
 Moneji ! Well, j;ive them a mortgage 
 on the island, and a draft on the gal- 
 leon. Now stoj) the pitch-fountain, 
 and bore a hole near it ; fill filty bal- 
 loons with gas, inscribe tliem with the 
 latitude and longitude, fly them, and 
 bring all the world about our ears. 
 The problem is solved. It is solved, 
 and I am destroyed. She leaves me ; 
 she thinks no more of me. Her heart 
 is in England." 
 
 Then he muttered for a long time 
 unintelligibly ; and Helen ventured 
 near, and actually laid her hand on 
 his brow to sootlie him. But sud- 
 denly his muttering ceased, and he 
 seemed to be puzzling hard over some- 
 thing. 
 
 The result came out in a clear artic- 
 ulate sentence, that made Helen re- 
 coil, and, holding by the mast, cast an 
 indescribable look of wonder and dis- 
 may on the speaker. 
 
 The words that so staggered her 
 were these to the letter. 
 
 " She says she hates reptiles. Yet 
 she marries Arthur Wardlaw." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 The very name of Arthur Ward- 
 law startled Helen, and made her 
 realize how completely her thoughts 
 had been occupied with another. 
 
 But add to that the strange and 
 bitter epigram ! Or was it a mere 
 fortuitous concourse of words "? 
 
 Slie was startled, amazed, con- 
 founded, puzzled. And, ere she could 
 recover her composure. Hazel was 
 back to his problem again : but no 
 longer with the same energy. 
 
 He said in a faint and sleepy voice : 
 " ' He maketh the winds His mes- 
 sengers, and flames of tire His min- 
 isters.' Ah ! if I could do that ! 
 Well, why nof? I can do anything 
 she bids me, — 
 
 Qraeculus esuriens coelum jusseris ibit." 
 
 And soon after this doughty declara- 
 tion he dozed off, and forgot all his 
 trouble for a while. 
 
 The sun rose, and still he slept, 
 and Helen watched him with undis- 
 guised tenderness in her face ; undis- 
 guised now that he could not see it. 
 
 Erelong she had companions in her 
 care. Ponto came out of his den, 
 and sniffed about the l)oat; and then 
 began to scratch it, and whimper for 
 his friend. Tommy swam out of the 
 sea, came to the boat, discovered, 
 Heaven knows how, that his friend 
 was there, and, in the way of noises, 
 did everything but speak. The sea- 
 birds followed and fluttered here and 
 there in an erratic way, with now 
 and then a peck at each other. All 
 animated nature seemed to be uneasy 
 at this eclipse of their Hazel. 
 
 At last Tommy raised himself quite 
 perpendicular, in a vain endeavor to 
 look into tlie boat, and invented a 
 whine in tiie minor key, which tells 
 on dogs : it set Ponto off in a mo- 
 ment; he sat upon his tail, and de- 
 livered a long and most deplorable 
 howl. 
 
 " Everything loves him," thought 
 Helen. 
 
 With Ponto's music Hazel awoke, 
 and found her watching him, with 
 tears in her eyes ; he said softly : 
 " Miss Rolieston ! There is nothing 
 the matter, I hope. Why am I not 
 up getting things for your break- 
 fast 1 " 
 
 " Dear friend," said she, " why you 
 are not doing things for me and for- 
 getting yourself is because you have 
 been very ill. And I am your nurse. 
 Now tell me what I shall get you. 
 Is there nothing you could fancy "? " 
 
 No ; he had no appetite ; she was 
 not to trouble about him. And then 
 he tried to get up ; but that gave him 
 such a pain in his loins, he was fain 
 to lie down again. So then he felt 
 that he had got rheumatic fever. He 
 told her so ; but, seeing her sweet 
 anxious face, begged her not to be 
 alarmed, — he knew what to take for 
 it. Would she be kind enough to go
 
 148 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 to his arsenal and fetch some speci- 
 mens of hark she would find there, 
 and also tlie kefj of rum 1 
 
 yhe flew at the word, and soon 
 made him an infusicm of the harks in 
 boiliny water; to which the rum was 
 added. 
 
 His sweet nurse administered this 
 from time to time. The harks used 
 were of the cassia-tree, and a wild 
 citron-tree. Cinchona did not exist 
 in this island, unfortunately. Perhaps 
 there was no soil for it at a sufHcient 
 elevation ahove the sea. 
 
 Nevertheless with these inferior 
 harks they held the fever in check. 
 But the pain was obstinate, and cost 
 Helen many a sijrh ; lor, if she came 
 softly, she could often hear him moan ; 
 and, the moment he heard her foot, 
 he set to and whistled, for a blind ; 
 with what success maj' be imacined. 
 She would have bought those pains, 
 or a portion of them ; ay, and paid 
 a heavy price for them. 
 
 But pain, like everything, intermits, 
 and in those blessed intervals his 
 mind was more active than ever, and 
 ran a great deal upon what he called 
 the Problem. 
 
 But she, who had set it him, gave 
 him little encouragement now to 
 puzzle over it. 
 
 The following may serve as a 
 specimen of their conversation on 
 that head. 
 
 " The air of this island," said he, 
 " gives one a sort of vague sense of 
 mental power. It leads to no result 
 in my case: still, it is an agreeable 
 sensation to have it floating across 
 my mind that some day I shall solve 
 the Great Problem. Ah ! if I was 
 only an inventor ! " 
 
 " And so you are." 
 
 "No, no," said Hazel, disclaiming 
 as earnestly as some people claim ; 
 " I do things that look like acts of 
 invention, but they are acts of mem- 
 ory. I could show you plates and 
 engravings of all the things I have 
 seemed to invent. A man who 
 studies books instead of skimming 
 them can cut a dash in a desert isl- 
 
 and, until the fatal word goes forth, 
 — invent; and then you find him 
 out." 
 
 " I am sure I wish I had never 
 said the fatal word. You will never 
 get well if you puzzle your brain over 
 impossibilities." 
 
 " Ini])Ossil)ilities! But is not that 
 begging the question ? The measure 
 of impossibilities is lost in the pres- 
 ent age. I propose a test. Let us 
 go back a centur}', and suppose that 
 three problems were laid before the 
 men of that day, and they were 
 asked to decide which is the most 
 impossible: 1st, to diffuse intelli- 
 gence from a fixed island over a 
 iinndrcd leagues of water: 2d, to 
 make ihe sun take in thirty seconds 
 likenesses more exact than any por- 
 trait-painter ever took, — likenesses 
 that can be sold for a shilling at 
 fifty per cent profit : 3d, for New 
 York and London to exchange words 
 by wire so much faster than the 
 earth can turn, that London shall 
 tell New Y'ork at ten on Monday 
 morning what was the price of con- 
 sols at two o'clock Monday after- 
 noon." 
 
 " That is a story," said Helen, 
 with a look of angelic reproach. 
 
 " I accept that reply," said Hazel. 
 " As for me, I have got a smattering 
 of so many subjects, all full of in- 
 credible truths, that my faith in 
 the impossibility of anything is gone. 
 Ah ! if Janies Watt was only here 
 instead of John Hazel, — James 
 Watt from the Abbey with a head as 
 big as a pumpkin, — he would not 
 have gone groping about the island, 
 writing on rocks, and erecting sig- 
 nals. No ; he would have had some 
 grand and bold idea worthy of the 
 proposition." 
 
 " Well, so I think," said Helen, 
 archly; "that great man with the 
 great head would have begun by 
 making a kite a hundred yards 
 high." 
 
 " Would he ? Well, he was quite 
 capable of it." 
 
 " Y'es ; and rubbed it with phos-
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 149 
 
 phoras, and flown it the first tempest, 
 and made the string fast to — tlie 
 island itself." 
 
 " Well, that is an idea," said 
 Hazel, stariiier ; " rather hyperboli- 
 cal, I fear. But, after all, it is an 
 idea." 
 
 "Or else," continued Helen, " he 
 would weave a thousand yards of 
 some light fabric, and make balloons ; 
 then ho would stop the pitch-foun- 
 tain, bore a hole in the rock near it, 
 and so get the gas, fill the balloons, 
 inscrilie them with our sad story and 
 our latitude and longitude, and send 
 them flying all over the ocean, — 
 there ! " 
 
 Hazel was amazed. 
 
 "I resign my functions to yon," 
 said he. " What imagination ! What 
 invention ! " 
 
 " O dear, no," said Helen, slyly ; 
 " acts of memory sometimes pass for 
 invention, you know. Shall I tell 
 you ? when" first you fell ill, you were 
 rather lightheaded, and uttered the 
 strangest things. They would have 
 made me laugh heartily, only I 
 could n't, — for crying. And you said 
 that about kites and balloons, every 
 word." 
 
 " Did I ? then I have most brains 
 when I have least reason, that 's 
 all." 
 
 "Ay," said Helen, "and other 
 strange things, — very strange and 
 bitter things. One 1 should like to 
 ask you about, what on earth you 
 could mean by it; but perhaps you 
 meant nothing, after all." 
 
 " I 'U soon tell you," said Hazel ; 
 but he took the precaution to add, 
 " provided I know what it means 
 my-elf." 
 
 She looked at him steadily, and 
 was on the point of seeking the ex- 
 planation so boldly offered ; but her 
 own courage failed her. She colored 
 and hcsitMted. 
 
 " I shall wait," said she, " till you 
 are quite, quite well. That will bo 
 soon, I hope ; only you must be good, 
 and obey my prescriptions. Cultivate 
 patience ; it is a wholesome plant ; 
 
 bow the pride of that intellect which 
 you see a fever can lay low in an hour : 
 aspire no more beyond the powers of 
 man. Plere we shall stay unless 
 Providence sends us a ship. I have 
 ceased to repine : and don't you be- 
 gin. Dismiss that problem altogeth- 
 er; see how hot it has made your 
 poor brow. Be good now, and dis- 
 miss it ; or else do as I do, — fold it 
 up, put it quietly away in a corner of 
 your mind, and, when you least ex- 
 pect, it will pop out solved." 
 
 [O, comfortable doctrine ! But how 
 about Jamie Watt's headaches 1 And 
 why are the signs of hard thoughts 
 so much stronger in his brow and face 
 than in Shakespeare's ? Mercy on us, 
 there is another problem.] 
 
 Hazel smiled, well pleased, and 
 leaned back, soothed, silenced, sub- 
 dued, by her soft voice, and the ex- 
 quisite touch of her velvet hand on 
 his hot brow ; for, woman-like, she 
 laid her hand like down on that burn- 
 ing brow to aid her words in soothing 
 it. Nor did it occur to him just then 
 that this admonition delivered with a 
 kind maternal hand, maternal voice, 
 came from the same young lady who 
 had flown at him like a wild-cat with 
 this very problem in her mouth. She 
 mesmerized him, problem and all ; 
 he subsided into a complacent lan- 
 guor, and at last went to sleep, think- 
 ing only of her. But the topic had 
 entered his mind too deeply to be 
 finally dismissed. It returned next 
 day, though in a different form. You 
 must know that Hazel, as he lay on 
 his back in the boat, had often, in 
 a half-drowsy way, watched the etfect 
 of the sun upon the boat's mast; it 
 now stood, a hare pole, and at certain 
 hours acted like the needle of a dial 
 by casting a shadow on the sands. 
 Above all, he could see pretty well by 
 means of this pole and its shadow 
 when the sun attained its greatest ele- 
 vation. He now asked Miss Rolles- 
 ton to assist him in making this ob- 
 servation exactly. 
 
 She obeyed his instructions, and 
 the moment the shadow reached its
 
 150 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 highest anrrle, and showed the minut- 
 est syniptom of defle'Tisioii, she said, 
 " Now," and Hazel called out in a 
 loud voice : — 
 
 " Noon ! " 
 
 "And forty-nine minutes past eight 
 at Sydney," said Helen, holding out 
 her cluononietcr ; for siie had been 
 sharp enough to get it ready of her 
 own accord. 
 
 Hazel looked at her and at the 
 watch with amazement and incredu- 
 lity. 
 
 "What?" said he. "Impossible. 
 You can't have kept Sydney time all 
 this while." 
 
 " And pray why not ? " said Helen. 
 " Have you forgotten that once some- 
 body praised me for keeping Sydney 
 time ; it helped you, somehow or oth- 
 er, to know where we were." 
 
 " And so it will now," cried Hazel, 
 exultingly. " But no ! it is impossi- 
 ble. We have gone through scenes 
 that, — you can't have wound that 
 watch up without missing a day." 
 
 " Indeed but I have," said Helen. 
 "Not wind my watch up ! Why, if I 
 was dying I sliould wind my watch 
 up. See, it requires no key ; a touch 
 or two of the fingers and it is done. O, 
 I am remarkal)ly constant in all my 
 habits ; and this is an old fiicnd I 
 never neirlect. Do you remember 
 that terrible night in the boat, when 
 neither of us expected to see the 
 morning, — 0, how good and brave 
 you were ! — well, I remember wind- 
 ing it up that night. I kissed it, and 
 bade it good b^^ : l)ut I never dreamed 
 of not winding it up tieeause I was 
 going to be killed. What ! am I not 
 to be praised again, as I was on board 
 ship? Stingy! can't atlbrd to praise 
 one twice for the same thing." 
 
 " Prni^ed ! " cried Hazel, excitedly ; 
 " worshipped, yon mean Why, we 
 have got the longitude by means of 
 your chronometer. It is wonderful! 
 It is providential ! It is the finger of 
 Heaven ! Pen and ink, and let me 
 work it out." 
 
 In his excitement he got up with- 
 out assistance, and was soon busy cal- 
 
 culating the longitude of Godsend 
 Isle. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 " There," said he. " Now the 
 latitude I must guess at by certain 
 coml)inations. In the fir>t jjlace tlie 
 slight vai iation in the length of the 
 days. Then I must try and make a 
 rough calculation of the sun's paral- 
 lax. And then my botany will help 
 me a little ; spices furnish a clew ; 
 there are one or two that will not 
 grow outside the tropic. It was the 
 longitude that beat me, and now we 
 have conquered ir. Hturah ! Now I 
 know what to dift'nse, and in what di- 
 rection ; east, southeast ; the ducks 
 have shown me that much. So 
 there 's tiie first step towards the im- 
 possible problem." 
 
 " Very well," said Helen ; " and I 
 am sure one step is enough for one 
 day. I forbid you the toi^ic for 
 twelve hours at least. I detest it be- 
 cause it always makes your poor head 
 so hot." 
 
 " What on earth does that mat- 
 ter ? " said Hazel, imj)etuously, and 
 almost crossly. 
 
 " Come, come, come, sir," said Hel- 
 en, authoritatively ; " it matters to me." 
 
 But when she saw that he could 
 think of nothing else, and that opposi- 
 tion irritated him, she had the tact 
 and good sense not to strain her au- 
 thority, nor to irritate her subject. 
 
 Hazel spliced a long, fine-pointed 
 stick to the mast-head, and set a 
 plank painted white with guano at 
 right angles to the base of the mast ; 
 and so, whenever the sun attained his 
 meridian altitude, went into adifheult 
 and subtle calculation to arrive at the 
 latitude, or as near it as he could 
 without projier instrmnents : and ho 
 brooded and brooded over liis discov- 
 ery of tlie longitude, but unfortunately 
 he could not advance. In some prob- 
 lems the first step once gained leads, 
 or at least points, to the next ; but to
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 151 
 
 know whereabouts tliey were, and to 
 let others know it, were two diffieul- 
 ties heterogeneous and distinct. 
 
 Having iliought and thought till his 
 head was dizzy, at last he took Helen's 
 advice and put it by for a while. He 
 set himself to fit and number a quan- 
 tity of pearl-oyster shells, so that he 
 might be able to place them at once, 
 when he should be able to recom- 
 mence his labor of love in the cavern. 
 
 One day Helen had left him so em- 
 ployed, and was busy cooking the 
 dinner at her own place, but, mind 
 you, with one eye on the dinner and 
 anotiier on her patient, when suddenly 
 she heard him shouting very loud, and 
 ran out to see what was the matter. 
 
 He was roaring like mad, and 
 whirling his arms over his head like 
 a demented windmill. 
 
 She ran to him. 
 
 " Eureka ! Eureka ! " he shouted, 
 in furious excitement. 
 
 " dear ! " cried Helen ; " never 
 mind." She was all against her 
 patient exciting himself. 
 
 But he was exalted bej-ond even 
 her control. " Crown me with laurel," 
 he cried ; " I have solved the prob- 
 lem " : and up went his arms. 
 
 " O, is that all ? " said she, calmly. 
 
 " Get me two squares of my parch- 
 ment," cried he ; " and some of the 
 finest gut." 
 
 " Will not after dinner do ? " 
 
 " No ; certainly not," said Hazel, 
 in a voice of command. " I would n't 
 wait a moment for all the flesh-pots 
 of Egypt." 
 
 Tlien she went like the wind and 
 fetched them. 
 
 " O, thank you ! thank you ! Now 
 I want, — let me see, — ah, there 's 
 an old rusty hoop that was washed 
 asliore, on one of that ship's casks. I 
 put it carefully away ; how the un- 
 likeliest tilings come in useful«Boon 
 or late ! " 
 
 She went for the hoop, but not so 
 rapiill^', for here it was that the first 
 faint doubt of his sanity came in. 
 Ho\\«ever, she brought it, and he 
 thanked her. 
 
 " And now," said he, " while I 
 prepare the intelligence, will you be 
 so kind as to fetch me the rushes ? " 
 
 " The what 1 " said Helen, in grow- 
 ing dismay. 
 
 "Tiie rushes! I'll tell you where 
 to find some." 
 
 Helen thought the best thing was to 
 temporize. Perhaps he would be bet- 
 ter after eating some wholesome food. 
 " I '11 fetch them directly after din- 
 ner," said she. " But it will be 
 spoiled if I leave it for long ; and I 
 do so want it to be nice for you to- 
 day." 
 
 " Dinner ? " cried Hazel. " What 
 do I care for dinner now 1 I am solv- 
 ing my problem. I 'd rather go with- 
 out dinner for years than interrupt a 
 great idea. Pray let dinner take its 
 chance, and obey me for once." 
 
 " For once ! " said Helen, and 
 turned her mild hazel eyes on him 
 with sucli a look of gentle reproach. 
 
 " Forgive me ! But don't take me 
 for a child, asking you for a toy ; I 'ra 
 a poor crippled inventor, who sees 
 daylight at last. 0, I am on fire ; 
 and, if you want me not to go into a 
 fever, why, get me my ruslies." 
 
 " Where shall I find tliem ? " said 
 Helen, catching fire at iiim. 
 
 " Go to where your old hut stood, 
 and follow the river about a fuilong : 
 you will find a bed of high rushes : 
 cut me a good bundle, cut them below 
 the water, choose the stoutest. Here 
 is a pair of shears I found in the 
 ship." 
 
 She took the shears and went swift- 
 ly across the sands and up the slope. 
 He watched her with an admiring 
 eye; and well he might, for it was 
 the very poetry of motion. Hazel in 
 his hours of health had almost given 
 up walking ; he ran from point to 
 point, without fatigue or shortness of 
 breath. Helen, equally pressed for 
 time, did not run ; but she went al- 
 most as fast. By rising with the 
 dawn, by three meals a day of animal 
 food, by constant work, and heavenly 
 air, she was in a condition women 
 rarely attain to. She was trained.
 
 152 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Ten miles was no more to her than 
 ten j'aids. And, when she was in a 
 hurrv, she got over the ^'roaiul by a 
 grand but feminine motion not easy 
 to describe. It was a series of smooth 
 unduhitions, not vulgar strides, but 
 swift ruslies, in which the loins seemed 
 to propel the whole body, and the feet 
 scarcely to toucli the ground : it was 
 the vigor and freedom of a savage, 
 with the grace of a lady. 
 
 And so it was she swept across the 
 sands and up the slope, 
 
 Bt vera incessu patuit Dea. 
 
 While she was gone, Hnzel cut two 
 little squares of seals' bladder, one 
 larger tlian the other. On the smaller 
 he wrote : " An English lady wrecked 
 on an island. Longitude , S., 
 latitude between the and paral- 
 lels. Haste to her rescue." Then 
 he folded this small, and enclosed it 
 in the larger slip, which he made into 
 a little bag, and tied the neck ex- 
 tremely tight with fine gut, leaving a 
 long piece of the gut free. 
 
 And now Helen came gliding back, 
 as she went, and brought him a large 
 bundle of rushes. 
 
 Then he asked her to help him 
 fasten these rushes round the iron 
 hoop. 
 
 " It must not be done too regular- 
 ly," said he ; " but so as to look as 
 much like a little bed of rushes as 
 possible." 
 
 Helen was puzzled still, but inter- 
 ested. So she set to work, and, be- 
 tween them, they fastened rushes all 
 round the hoop, although it was a 
 large one. 
 
 But, when it was done, Hazel said 
 they were too bare. 
 
 " Then we will fasten another row," 
 said Helen, good-humorcdly. And, 
 without more ado, she was off to the 
 river again. 
 
 When she came back, she found 
 him up, and he saiil the great excite- 
 ment had cured him, — such power 
 has the brain over the body. This 
 convinced her he had really hit ujjon 
 some great idea. And, when she had 
 
 made him eat his dinner by her fire, 
 she asked him to tell her all about it. 
 But, by a natural reaction, the 
 glorious and glow'ing excitement of 
 mind that had battled his very rlieu- 
 matic pains was now followed by 
 doubt and dejection. 
 
 " Don't ask me yet," he sighed. 
 " Theory is one thing ; practice is 
 anotiicr. We count without our an- 
 tagonists. I forgot they will set 
 their wits against mine : and they are 
 many, I am but one. And 1 have 
 been so often defeated. And, do you 
 know, I have observed that whenever 
 I say beforehand. Now I am going to 
 do something clever, I am always 
 defeated. Pride really goes before 
 destruction, and vanity before a fall." 
 
 The female mind, rejecting all else, 
 went like a needle's point atone thing 
 in this explanation. " Our antago- 
 nists ■? " said Helen, looking sadly 
 puzzled. "Why, what antagonists 
 have we?" 
 
 " The messengers," said Hazel, 
 with a groan. " The aerial messen- 
 gers." 
 
 That did the business. Helen 
 dropped the subject with almost ludi- 
 crous haste ; and, after a few common- 
 place observations, made a nice com- 
 fortable dose of grog and bark for him. 
 This she administered as an indepen- 
 dent transaction, and not at all by way 
 of comment on his antagonists, the 
 aerial messengers. 
 
 It operated unkindly for her pur- 
 pose ; it did him so much good, that 
 he lifred up his dejected head, and his 
 eyes sjjarkled again, and he set to 
 work, and, by sunset, prepared two 
 more bags of bladder with inscriptions 
 inside, and long tails of fine gut liaiig- 
 ing. He then .set to woik, and, with 
 fingers far less adroit than hers, fas- 
 tened another set of rushes round the 
 hoop* He set them less evenly, and 
 some of them not quite perpendicular; 
 and, while he was fumbling over this, 
 and examining the efi'ect with paternal 
 glances, Helen's hazel eye dwelt on 
 him with furtive pity; for, to her,. this 
 girdle of rushes was now an instru-
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 153 
 
 ment that bore an ugly likeness to 
 the sceptre of straw, with which van- 
 ity run to seed sways imag-iiiary 
 kin;^doms in Bedlam or Bicetre. 
 
 And yet he was better. He walked 
 about the cavern and conversed 
 charmingly ; he was dictionary, essay- 
 ist, raconteur, anything she liked ; 
 and, as she prudently avoided and 
 ignored the one fatal topic, it was a 
 delightful evening : her fingers were 
 as busy as his tongue : and, when he 
 retired, she presented him with the 
 fraits of a fortnight's work, a glorious 
 wrapper made of fleecy cotton en- 
 closed in a plaited web of flexible 
 and silky grasses. He thanked her, 
 and blessed her, and retired for the 
 night. 
 
 About midnight she awoke and 
 felt uneasy : so she did what since his 
 illness she had done a score of times 
 without his knowledge, — she stole 
 from her lair to watch him. 
 
 She found him wrapped in her 
 present, which gave her great pleas- 
 ure ; and sleeping like an infant, 
 ■which gave her joy. She eyed him 
 eloquently for a long time ; and then 
 very timidly put out. her hand, and, 
 in her quality of nurse, laid it lighter 
 than down upon his brow. 
 
 The brow was cool, and a very 
 slight moisture on it showed the fever 
 Was going or gone. 
 
 She folded her arms and stood look- 
 ing at him ; and she thought of all 
 they two had done and suffered to- 
 gether. Her eyes absorbed him, de- 
 voured him. The time flew by un- 
 heeded. It was so sweet to be able to 
 set her face free from its restraint, and 
 let all its sunsliii\e beam on him ; and, 
 even when she retired at last, those 
 light hazel eyes, that could flash fire 
 at times, but were all dove-like now, 
 hung and lingered on him as if they 
 could never look at him enough. 
 
 Half an hour before daybreak she 
 was awakened by the dog howling 
 piteuusly. She felt a little uneasy at 
 that : not much. However, she got 
 up, and issued from her cavern, just 
 
 as the sun showed his red eye above 
 the horizon. She went towards the 
 boat as a matter of course. She found 
 Ponto tied to the helm : the boat was 
 empty, and Hazel nowhere to be seen. 
 
 She uttered a scream of dismay. 
 
 The dog howled and whined louder 
 than ever. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 Wardlaw senior was not what you 
 would call a tender-hearted man ; but 
 he was thoroughly moved by Gener- 
 al Rolleston's distress, and by his for- 
 titude. The gallant old man ! Land- 
 ing in England one week and going 
 back to the Pacific the next ! Like 
 goes with like ; and Wardlaw senior, 
 energetic and resolute himself, though 
 he felt for his son, stricken down by 
 grief, gave his heart to the more val- 
 iant distress of his contemporary. 
 He manned and victualled tiie Spring- 
 bok for a long voyage, ordered her to 
 Plymouth, and took his friend down 
 to her by train. 
 
 They went out to her in a boat. 
 She was a screw steamer, that could 
 sail nine knots an hour without burn- 
 ing a coal. As she came down the 
 Channel, the General's trouble got to 
 be well known on board her, and, 
 when he came out of the harbor, the 
 sailors by an honest, hearty impulse, 
 that did them credit, waited for no 
 orders, but manned the yards to re- 
 ceive him with the respect due to his 
 services and his sacred calamity. 
 
 On getting on board, he saluted the 
 ca])tain and the ship's company with 
 sad dignity, and retired to his cabia 
 with Mr. Wardlaw. There the old mer- 
 cliant forced on him by loan seven 
 hundred pounds, chiefly in gold and 
 silver, telling him there was nothing 
 like money, go where you will. He 
 tlien gave him a number of notices 
 he had printed, and a paper of ad- 
 vice and instructions : it was writ- 
 ten in his own large, clear, formal 
 hand. 
 
 General Rolleston tried to falter
 
 154 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 out his thanks. John Wardlaw inter- 
 rupted him. 
 
 " Next to you I am her father ; am 
 I not?" 
 
 " You have proved it." 
 
 " ^\'ell, then. However, if you do 
 find her, as I pray to God you may, I 
 daim the second i^iss, mind that: not 
 for myself, tiiough : for my poor Ar- 
 thur, that lies on a sick-bed for her." 
 
 General RoUeston assented to tliat 
 in a broken voice. He could hardly 
 speak. 
 
 And so they parted : and that sad 
 parent went out to the Pacific. 
 
 To him it was indeed a sad and 
 gloomy voyage; and the hope witli 
 which he went on board oozed gradual- 
 ly away as the ship travei'sed the vast 
 tracks of ocean. One immensity of 
 water to be passed before that other 
 immensity could be reached, on whose 
 vast, uniform surface the search was 
 to be made. 
 
 To abridge this gloomy and monoto- 
 nous i)art of our tale, suffice it to say 
 that he endured two months of water 
 and infinity ere the vessel, fast as slie 
 was, i-cached Valparaiso. Their prog- 
 ress, however, had been more than once 
 interrupted to carry out Wardlaw's in- 
 structions. The poor General him- 
 self had but one idea; to go and 
 search the Pacific with his own eyes ; 
 but Wardlaw, more experienced, di 
 rccted him to overhaul every whaler 
 and coasting vessel he could, and de- 
 liver i)rintcd notices ; telling the s;ul 
 story, and offering a reward for any 
 positive information, good or bad, 
 that should be brought in to his agent 
 at Valparaiso. Acting on these in- 
 structions tliey had overhauled two or 
 three coasting vessels as they steamed 
 up from the Horn. They now pla- 
 carded the port of Valparaiso, and jMit 
 the notices on lioard all vessels bound 
 westward ; and the captain of the 
 Springbok spoke to the skippers in the 
 jiort. But they all shook their heads, 
 and could hardly be got to give their 
 minds seriously to the inciuiry, wiien 
 they heard in what water the cutter 
 was last seen aud on what course. 
 
 One old skipper said, "Look on 
 Juan Fernandez, and then at the bot- 
 tom of the Pacific ; but the sooner 
 you look there the less time you will 
 lose." 
 
 From Valparaiso they ran to Juan 
 Fernandez, which indeed seemed the 
 likeliest place ; if she was alive. 
 
 When the larger ishiiid of that 
 group, the island dear alike to you 
 who read, and to us who write, this 
 tale, came in sight, the lather's heart 
 began to beat higher. 
 
 The ship anchored and took in 
 coal, which was furnished at a wick- 
 edly higii ])rice by Mr. Joshua FuUa- 
 love, who had virtually purchased the 
 island from Chili, having got it on 
 lease for longer than the earth itself 
 is to last, we hear. 
 
 And now Rolleston found tlie value 
 of Wardlaw's loan ; it enabled him to 
 prosecute his search tlu"ough the whole 
 group of islands ; and he did hear at 
 last of three persons wlio had been 
 wrecked on Masa Fucro ; one of them 
 a female. He followed this up, and at 
 last discovered the parties. He found 
 them to be Spaniards, and the woman 
 smoking a pipe. 
 
 After this bitter disappointment he 
 went back to the ship, and she was to 
 weigh her anchor next moridng. 
 
 But, while General Rolleston was at 
 Masa Fuero, a small coasting vessel 
 had come in, and brought a strange 
 report at second-hand, that in some 
 degree unsettled Captain Moreland's 
 mind ; and, being hotly discussed on 
 the forecastle, set the ship's company 
 in a ferment. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 II.vzKL, had risen an hour before 
 dawn for reasons well known to him- 
 self. He put on his worst clothes, 
 and a leathern belt, his little bags 
 round his neck, and took his bundle 
 of rushes in his hand. He also pro- 
 vided himself with some pieces of 
 raw fish and fresh oyster ; and, thus 
 equipped, went up through Terrapin
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 loo 
 
 "Wood, and got to the neighborhood 
 of the higoons before daybreak. 
 
 There was a heavy steam on the 
 water, and nothing else to be seen. 
 He put the hoop over liis head, and 
 walked into the water, not without an 
 internal shudder, it looked so cold. 
 
 But, instead of that, it was very 
 warm, unaceountably warm. He 
 walked in up to his middle, and tied 
 his iron hoop to his belt, so as to 
 prevent it sinking too deep. This 
 done, he waited motionless, and 
 seemed a little bed of rushes. The 
 sun rose, and the steam gradually 
 cleared away, and Hazel, peering 
 through a hole or two he had made 
 expressly in his bed of rushes, saw 
 several ducks floating about, and one 
 in particular, all purple, without a 
 speck but his amber eye. He con- 
 trived to detach a piece of fish, that 
 soon floated to the surface near him. 
 But no duck moved towards it. He 
 tried another, and another ; then a 
 mallard he had not observed swam 
 up from behind him, and was soon 
 busy pecking at it within a yard of 
 him. His heart beat ; he glided slowly 
 and cautiously forward till the bird 
 was close to the rushes. 
 
 Hazel stretched out his hand with 
 the utmost care, caught hold of the 
 bird's feet, and dragged him sharply 
 under the water, and brought him up 
 within the circle of the rushes. He 
 quacked and struggled. Hazel soused 
 him under directly, and so quenched 
 the sound ; then he glided slowly to 
 the bank, so slowly that the rushes 
 merely seemed to drift ashore. This 
 he did not to create suspicion, and so 
 spoil the next attempt. As he glided, 
 he gave his duck air every now and 
 then, and soon got on terra fir/na. 
 By this time he had taught the duck 
 not to quack, or he would get soused 
 and held under. He now took the 
 long gut-end and tied it tight round 
 the bird's leg, and so fastened the bag 
 to him. Even while he was cflTecting 
 this, a posse of ducks rose at the west 
 end of the marsh, and took their fligiit 
 from the island. As they passed, 
 
 Hazel threw his captive up in the air ; 
 and such was the force of example, 
 aided, perhaps, by the fright the cap- 
 tive had received, that Hazel's bird 
 instantly joined these travellers, rose 
 with them into the high currents, and 
 away, bearing the news eastward up- 
 on the wings of the wind. Then 
 Hazel returned to the pool, and twice 
 more he was so fortunate as to sectire 
 a bird, and launch him into space. 
 
 So hard is it to measure the wit of 
 man, and to define his resources. The 
 problem was solved ; the aerial mes- 
 sengers were on the wing, diffusing 
 over hundreds of leagues of water the 
 intelligence that an English lady had 
 been wrecked on an unknown island, 
 in longitude 103 deg 30 min., and be- 
 tween the 32d and 25th parallels of 
 south latitude ; and calling good mea 
 and ships to her rescue for the love of 
 God. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 And now for the strange report 
 that landed at Juan Fernandez while 
 General KoUeston was searching Masa 
 Fuero. 
 
 The coaster who brought it ashore 
 had been in company, at Valparaiso, 
 with a whaler from Nantucket, who 
 told him he had fallen in with a 
 Dutch whaler out at sea, and distressed 
 for water : he had supplied the said 
 Dutchman, who had thanked him, 
 and given him a runlet of Hollands, 
 and had told him in conversation that 
 he had seen land and a river reflected 
 on the sky, in waters where no land 
 was marked in the chart ; namely, 
 somewhere between Juan Fernandez 
 and Norfolk Island; and that, believ- 
 ing this to be the reflection of a part 
 of some island near at hand, and his 
 water being low, though not at that 
 time run out, he had gone considera- 
 bly out of his course in hopes of find- 
 ing this watered island, but could see 
 nothing of it. Nevertheless, as his 
 grandfather, who had been sixty
 
 156 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 years at sea, and logf^cd many won- 
 derful thinfrs, had told him the sky 
 had bucn known to reflect lioth ships 
 and land at a great distance, he fully 
 believed there was an island somewhere 
 in that longitude, not down on any 
 chart : an island wooded and watered. 
 
 This tale soon boarded tlic Spring- 
 bok, and was hotly discussed on tlie 
 forecastle. It came to Captain More- 
 land's ears, and he examined tiie 
 skipper of tlic coasting-smack. But 
 this examination elicited nothing new, 
 inasmuch as the skipper had the tale 
 only at third hand. Captain More- 
 land, however, communicated it to 
 General Roileston on his arrival, and 
 asked him whether he thought it 
 wortii while to deviate from their in- 
 structions upon information of such a 
 character. Roileston shook his head. 
 "An island reflected in the sky! " 
 
 " No, sir : a portion of an island 
 containing a river." 
 
 " It is clearly a fable," said Roiles- 
 ton, with a sigh. 
 
 " What is a fable, General ? " 
 
 " That the sky can reflect terrestrial 
 objects." 
 
 " O, there I can't go with you. 
 The phenomenon is rare, but it is 
 well established. I never saw it my- 
 self, but I have come across those that 
 have. Suppose we catechise the fore- 
 castle. Hy ! Fok'sel ! " 
 
 " Sir ! " 
 
 " Send a man aft : the oldest sea- 
 man aboard." 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir." 
 
 There was some little delay : and 
 then a sailor of about sixty slouched 
 aft, made a sea scrape, and, removing 
 his cap entirely, awaited the captain's 
 commands. 
 
 " My man," said the captain, " I 
 ■want you to answer a question. Do 
 you believe land and ships have ever 
 been seen in the sky, reflected ? " 
 
 " A many good seamen holds to 
 that, sir," said the sailor, cautiously. 
 
 " Is it the general opinion of sea- 
 men before the mast ? Come, tell us. 
 Jack 's as good as his master in these 
 matters." 
 
 " Could n't say for boys and lubbers, 
 sir. But I never met a full-grown sea- 
 man as denied that there. Sartainly 
 few has seen it : but all of 'em has 
 seen them as has seen it ; ships, and 
 land, too ; but mostly ships, llows'- 
 ever, I had a messmate once as was 
 sailing past a rock they call Ailsa 
 Craig, and saw a regiment of soldier.s 
 marching in the sky. Logged it, did 
 the mate ; and them soldiers was a 
 marching between two towns in Ire- 
 land at that very time." 
 
 " There, you see, General," said 
 Captain Moreland. 
 
 " But this is all second-hand," said 
 General Roileston, with a sigh ; " and 
 I have learned how everything gets 
 distorted in passing from one to an- 
 other." 
 
 " Ah," said the captain, " we can't 
 help that ; the thing is rare. I never 
 saw it for one ; and I su])pose you 
 never saw a phenomenon of the kind, 
 Isaac ? " 
 
 " Hain't I ! " said Isaac, grimly. 
 Then, with sudden and not very rea- 
 sonable heat, " D my eyes and 
 
 limbs if I hain't seen the Peak o' 
 Teneriffe in the sky topsy-turvy, and 
 as i)lain as I see that there cloud 
 there" (pointing upwards). 
 
 " Come," said Moreland ; " now 
 we are getting to it. Tell us all 
 about that." 
 
 " Well, sir," said the seaman, " I 
 don't care to larn them as laughs at 
 everything they hain't seen in maybe 
 a dozen voyages at most; but 30U 
 know me, and I knows you ; thou'j;h 
 you command the shi]), and I work 
 before the mast. Novv I axes you, sir, 
 should you say Isaac Aiken was the 
 man to take a sugar-loaf, or a cocked 
 hat, for the Peak o' Teneriftl- '< " 
 
 " As likely as I am myself, Isaac." 
 
 " No commander can say fairer nor 
 that," said Isaac, with dignity. 
 " Well, then, jour honor, I '11 tell ye 
 the truth, and no lie : We was bound 
 for Teneriffe with a fair wind, though 
 not so much of it as we wanted, by 
 reason she was a good sea-boat, but 
 broad in the bows. The Peak hove
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 157 
 
 in sight in the sky, and all the glasses 
 was at her. Shu lay a jjoiiit or two 
 on our weatlier-quarter like, full two 
 hours, and then slie just melted away 
 like a lump o' sugar. We kept on 
 our course a day and a half, and at 
 last we sighted the real Peak, am! 
 anehored off the port ; wiiereby, wlien 
 we saw Teneriffe Peak in the sky to 
 wiunard, she hiy a iiuudred leagues to 
 looard, s' help me God ! " 
 
 " That is wonderful," said General 
 Rollcston. 
 
 " That will do, Isaac," said the 
 captain. " Mr. Butt, double his grog 
 for a week, for having seen more than 
 I liave." 
 
 The captain and General Rolleston 
 had a long discussion ; but tlie result 
 was, tliey determined to go to Easter 
 Island first, for General Rolleston was 
 a soldier, and had learned to obey as 
 well as command. He saw no suffi- 
 cient ground for deviating from Ward- 
 law's positive instructions. 
 
 This decision soon became known 
 throughout the ship ; and she was to 
 weiuh anchor at 11a. m. next day, by 
 high water. 
 
 At eight next morning, Captain 
 Moreland and General Rolleston 
 being on deck, one of the ship's boys, 
 a regular pet, with rosy cheeks and 
 black eyes, comes up to the gentle- 
 men, takes off his cap, and, panting 
 audibly at his own audacity, shoves a 
 paper into General Rolleston's hand, 
 and sends away for his life. 
 
 " This won't do," said the captain, 
 sternly. 
 
 The high-bred soldier handed the 
 paper to him unopened. 
 
 The captnin opened it, looked a 
 little vexed, but more amused, and 
 handed it back to the General. 
 
 It was a Round Robin. 
 
 Round Robins are not ingratiating 
 as a rnle. But this one came from 
 some rough but honest fellows, who 
 bad already shown that kindliness and 
 tact may reside in a coarse envelope. 
 The sailors of the Springbok, when 
 they first boarded her in the Thames, 
 
 looked on themselves as men bound 
 on an empty cruise ; and nothing but 
 the pay, which was five shillings per 
 month above the average, reconciled 
 them to it ; for a sailor does not like 
 going to sea for nothing, any more 
 than a true sportsman likes to ride to 
 hounds that are hunting a red herring 
 trailed. 
 
 But the sight of the General had 
 touched them afar off. His gray hair 
 and pale face, seen as he rowed out 
 of Plymouth Harbor, had sent them 
 to tiie yjirds by a gallant impulse; 
 and all through the voyage the game 
 had been to put on an air of alacrity 
 and hope, whenever they passed the 
 General or came under his eye. 
 
 If hypocrisy is always a crime, this 
 was a very criminal ship ; for the 
 men, and even the boys, were hypo- 
 crites, who, feeling quite sure that the 
 daughter was dead at sea months ago, 
 did, nevertlieless, make up their faces 
 to encourage the father into thinking 
 she was alive and he was going to 
 find her. But people who pursue this 
 game too long, and keep up the hopes 
 of another, get infected at last them- 
 selves; and the crew of the Spring- 
 bok arrived at Valparaiso infected 
 with a little hope. Then came the 
 Dutchmun's tale, and the discussion, 
 which ended adversely to their views ; 
 and this elicited the circular we have 
 now the honor to lay before our read- 
 ers. 
 
 General Rolleston and Captain 
 Moreland returned to the cabin and 
 discussed this document. They came 
 on deck again, and the men were 
 piped aft. General Rolleston touched 
 his cap, and, with the Round Robin in 
 his hand, addressed them thus: — 
 
 "My men, I thank you for taking 
 my trouble to heart as you do. But 
 it would be a bad return to send any 
 of you to Easter Island in that cut- 
 ter ; for she is not sea-worthy : so the 
 captain tells me. I will not consent 
 to throw away your lives in trying to 
 save a life that is dear to me : but, as 
 to the Dutchman's story about an 
 unknown island, our captaia seems
 
 153 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 ]Ve icho si(jn 
 About this line, 
 hope none offtnce and mean none. 
 >, We think Easter Island is out of her course. vil\ 
 
 '^Such of vs as can be spared are ready and (C\f(^ 
 willing to take the old cutter, that lies for sale, 
 to Easter Island if needs be; but to waste the 
 ^^Vldijiy r Steamer it is n Pity. We are all agreed the Dutch Wv\ Jem 
 
 skipper saw land and water aloft sailing bettveen ^ \ 
 
 Juan Fernandez and Norfolk Isle, and what a 
 Dutchman can see on the sky we think an Eng- 
 
 •jlOl 
 
 6a-i£> 
 
 Qfty^lishman can find it in the sea, God icilling. ^ 
 
 Whereby we pray our good Captain to ' 
 
 follow the Dutchman's course with a 
 good heart and a icilling crew. ^ 
 And so say ice 
 Whose names here be. 
 
 s. 
 
 ^ 
 
 w 
 
 5' ^ 
 
 
 ^^-%^^ 
 
 <^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 «*fc 
 
 o_. 
 
 re 
 
 s" 
 
 ** 
 
 
 .<>' 
 
 
 ve 
 
 
 to think that is possible ; and you tell 
 us ycm arc of the same opiiiion. 
 VVeli, tlien, I i:ive up my own juilj:;- 
 ment, and yield to yours. Yes, we 
 will go westward with a good heart 
 (he sighed), and a willing erew." 
 
 The men ciiecred. The boatswain 
 piped ; the anchor was heaved, and 
 the Sprinizhok went out on a course 
 that hade fair to carry her within a 
 hundred miles of Godsend Island. 
 
 Mount Lookout ; but never saw 
 Godsend Island ; and so pursued her 
 way to the Society Islands ; sent out 
 her boats ; made every inquiry around 
 about the islands, but with no suc- 
 cess ; and, at last, after losing a 
 couple of months there, brought the 
 heart-sick father back on mucii tiie 
 same course, but rather more north- 
 erly. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 She ran fast. On the second day 
 some ducks passed over her head, one 
 of which was observed to have some- Hazel returned homewards in a 
 tiiin_' atiaclied to its leg. ' glow of triumph, and for once felt 
 
 She passed within sixty miles of i disposed to brag to Helen of his vie-
 
 FOUL FLAY. 
 
 159 
 
 tory, — a victory by which she was 
 to profit; not he. 
 
 They met in the wood ; for she had 
 tracked him by his footsteps. She 
 seemed pale and disturbed, and 
 speedily interrupted his exehimations 
 of triumph by one of delight, which 
 was soon, however, followed by one 
 of distress. 
 
 " O, look at you ! " she said. 
 " You have been in the water: it is 
 wicked ; wicked." 
 
 " But I have solved the problem. 
 I caught three ducks one after the 
 other, and tied the intelligence to 
 their legs : they are at this moment 
 careering over the ocean, with our 
 story and our longitude, and a guess 
 at our latitude. Crown me with 
 bays." 
 
 " With foolscap, more likely," said 
 Helen : " only just getting well of 
 rheumatic fever, and to go and stand 
 in water up to the middle." 
 
 " Why, you don't listen to me ! " 
 cried Hazel, in amazement. " I 
 tell you I have solved the prob- 
 lem." 
 
 " It is you that don't listen to com- 
 mon sense," retorted Helen. "If you 
 go and make yourself ill, all the 
 problems in the world will not com- 
 pensate me. And I must say I think 
 it was not very kind of you to run off so 
 without warning : why give me hours 
 of anxiety for want of a word ? But 
 there, it is useless to argue with a 
 boy : yes, sir, a boy. The fact is, I 
 have been too easy with you of late. 
 One indulges sick children. But 
 then they must not slip away and 
 stand in the water, or there is an end 
 of indulgence ; and one is driven to 
 severity. You must be ruled with a 
 rod of iron. Go home this moment, 
 sir, and change your clothes ; and 
 don't you presume to come into the 
 presence of the nurse you have of- 
 fended, till there 's not a wet thread 
 about you." 
 
 And so she ordered him off. The 
 inventor in his moment of victory 
 slunk away crestfallen to change his 
 clothes. 
 
 So far Helen Rolleston was a type 
 of her sex in its treatment of in- 
 ventors. At breakfast she became a 
 brilliant exception. The moment she 
 saw Hazel seated by her fire in dry 
 clothes she changed her key, and 
 made him relate the whole business, 
 and expressed the warmest admii'a- 
 tion and sympathy. 
 
 "But," said she, "I do ask you 
 not to repeat this exploit too often ; 
 now don't do it again for a fortnight. 
 The island will not run away. Ducks 
 come and go every day, and your 
 health is very, very precious." 
 
 He colored with pleasure, and made 
 the promise at once. But during 
 this fortnight events occurred. In 
 the first place, he improved his in- 
 vention. He remembered how a duck, 
 over-weighted by a crab, which was 
 fast to her leg, had come on board the 
 boat. Memory dwelling on this, and 
 invention digesting it, he resolved to 
 weight his next batch of clucks ; for 
 he argued thus : " Probably our ducks 
 go straight from this to the great 
 American Continent. Then it may 
 be long ere one of them falls into the 
 hands of a man ; and perhaps that 
 man will not know English. But, if 
 I could impede the flight of my ducks, 
 they might alight on ships : and three 
 ships out of four know English." 
 
 Accordingly, he now inserted stones 
 of various sizes into the little bags. It 
 was a matter of nice calculation : the 
 problem was to weight the birds just so 
 much that they might be able to fly 
 three or four hundred miles, or about 
 half as far as their unencumbered 
 companions. 
 
 But in the midst of all this a cir- 
 cumstance occurred that would have 
 made a vain man, or indeed most 
 men, fling the whole thing away. 
 Helen and he came to a rupture. It 
 began by her fiiult, and continued by 
 his. She did not choose to know her 
 own mind, and, in spite of secret 
 warnings from her better judgment, 
 she was driven by curiosity, or by the 
 unhappy restlessness to which her sex 
 are peculiarly subject at odd times, to
 
 IGO 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 sound TIazcl as to the meaning of a 
 certain e|jijzram tliat rauklcd in her. 
 And she did it in the most feminine 
 way, iliat is to say, in the least direet : 
 whereas the safest way would liave 
 been to grasp the nettle, if she eould 
 not let it alone. 
 
 Said she one day, quietly, though 
 with a deep blush : " Do you know 
 Mr. Arthur Wardlaw 1 " 
 
 ILizel gave a shiver, and said, " I 
 do." 
 
 " Do you know anything about 
 him 1 " 
 
 "I do." 
 
 " Nothing to his discredit, I am 
 sure." 
 
 "If you are sure, why ask me? 
 Do I ever mention his name ? " 
 
 " Perhaps you do, sometimes, with- 
 out intending it." 
 
 " You are mistaken : he is in your 
 thoughts, no doulit ; bat not in mine." 
 
 " Ought I to forget jieople entirely, 
 and what I owe them i " 
 
 " That is a question I decline to go 
 into." 
 
 " How harshly you speak to me. 
 Is that fair? You know my engage- 
 ment, and that honor and duty draw 
 me to England ; yet I am ha])py here. 
 Y'ou, who are so good and strong, 
 might pity me at least ; for I am torn 
 this way and that": and here the 
 voice ceased, and the tears began to 
 flow. 
 
 " I do pity you," said Hazel : " I 
 must pity any one who is obliged to 
 mention honor and duty in the same 
 breath as Arthur Wardlaw." 
 
 At this time Helen drew back, of- 
 fended bitterly. " That pity I reject 
 and scorn," said she. " No, I plight- 
 ed my faith with my eyes open, and 
 to a worthy object. I never knew 
 him blacken any person who was not 
 there to speak for himself, and that 
 is a very worthy trait, in my opin- 
 ion. The al)sent are like children ; 
 they are hel])lcss to defend them- 
 selves." 
 
 Hazel racki'd with jealousy, and ir- 
 ritated at this galling comparison, 
 lost his temper for once, and said 
 
 those who lay traps must not com- 
 plain if others fall into them. 
 
 " Traps ! Who lay them ? " 
 
 " You did. Miss Kolleston. Did I 
 ever condescend to mention that man's 
 name since we have been on the isl- 
 and ? It is you make me talk of 
 him." 
 
 " Condescend ? " 
 
 " That is the word. Nor will I 
 ever deign to mention him again. If 
 my love had touched your heart, I 
 should have been obliged to memion 
 him, for then I should have been 
 bound to tell you a story in which he 
 is mixed, niy own miserable story, — 
 my blood boils against the iiuman 
 race when I think of it. But no, I 
 see I am nothing to you ; and I will 
 be silent." 
 
 " It is very cruel of you to say 
 that," replied Helen, with tears in her 
 eyes ; " tell me your story, and yoa 
 will see whether you are nothing to 
 me." 
 
 " Not one word of it," said Hazel, 
 slowly, " until you have forgotten 
 that man exists." 
 
 " Oh ! thank you, sir, this is plain 
 speaking. I am to forget honor and 
 ]j!ighted faith ; and then you will trust 
 jne with j'our secrets, when I have 
 shown myself imwnrthy to be trusted 
 with anything. Keep your secrets, 
 and I '11 try and keep faith ; ay, and 
 I shall kec[) it, too, as long as there 's 
 life in my body." 
 
 " Can't you keep faith without tor- 
 turing me, who love you ? " 
 
 Helen's bosom began to heave at 
 this, but she foujiht bravely. "Love 
 me less, and respect me more," said 
 she, panting ; " you affront me, you 
 frighten me. I looked on you as a 
 brother, a dear brother. But now I 
 am afraid of you — I am afraid — " 
 
 He was so injudicious as to inter- 
 rupt her, instead of giving her time 
 to contradict herself. " You have 
 fiothing to fear," said he; " keep this 
 side of the inland, and I '11 live on the 
 other, rather than hear the ntime of 
 Arthur AVardlaw." 
 
 Helen's courage failed her at that
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 161 
 
 spirited proposal, and she made no 
 reply at all, but turned lier hack 
 haughtily, and went away from him, 
 only, when she liad got a little way, 
 her pioud head drooped, and she went 
 crying. 
 
 A coolness sprang up between them, 
 and neither of them knew how to end 
 it. Hazel saw no way to serve her 
 now, except by flying weighted ducks, 
 and he gave his mind so to this that 
 one day he told her he had twenty- 
 seven ducks in the air, all charged, 
 and two thirds of them weighted. He 
 thought that must please her now. To 
 his surprise and annoyance, she re- 
 ceived the intelligence coldly, and 
 asked him whether it was not cruel 
 to the birds. 
 
 Hazel colored with mortification at 
 his great act of self-denial being so 
 received. 
 
 He said, " I don't think my worst 
 enemy can say I am wantonly cruel 
 to God's creatures." 
 
 Helen threw in, deftly, " And I am 
 not your worst enemy." 
 
 " But what other way is there to 
 liberate you from this island, where 
 you have nobody to speak to but 
 me ? Well, selfishness is the best 
 course. Think only of others, and 
 you are sure not to please them." 
 
 " If you want to please people, you 
 must begin bj^ understanding them," 
 said the lady, not ill-naturedly. 
 
 " But if they don't understand 
 themselves ? " 
 
 " Then pity them ; you can, for 
 )ou are a man." 
 
 " What hurts me," said Hazel, " is 
 that you really seem to think I fly 
 these ducks for my pleasure. Why, 
 if I had my wish, you and I should 
 never leave this island, nor any other 
 person set a foot on it. I am frank, 
 you see." 
 
 " Rather too frank." 
 
 " What does it matter, since I do 
 my duty all the same, and fly the 
 ducks? But sometimes I do yearn 
 for a woi-d of praise for it; and that 
 word never comes." 
 
 " It is a praiseworthy act," said 
 11 
 
 Helen, but so icily that it is a wonder 
 he ever flew another duck after that. 
 
 " No matter," said he, and his 
 hand involuntarily sought his heart ; 
 " you read me a sharp but wholesome 
 lesson, that we should do our duty 
 for our duty's sake. And as I am 
 quite sure it is my duty to liberate 
 you and restore 3'ou to those you — 
 I '11 fly three ducks to-morrow morn- 
 ing instead of two." 
 
 " It is not done by my advice," said 
 Helen. " You will certainly make 
 youi'self ill." 
 
 " O, that is all nonsense ! " said 
 Hazel. 
 
 " You are rude to me," said Helen, 
 " and I am not aware that I deserve 
 it." 
 
 " Rude, am I ? Then I '11 say no 
 more," said Hazel, half humbly, half 
 doggedly. 
 
 His parchment was exhausted, and 
 he was driven to another expedient. 
 He obtained alcohol by distillation from 
 rum, and having found dragon's blood 
 in its pure state, little ruby drops, 
 made a deep red varnish that defied 
 water ; he got slips of bark, white in- 
 side, cut his inscription deep on the 
 inner side, and filled the incised let- 
 ters with this red varnish. He had 
 forty-eight ducks in the air, and was 
 rising before daybreak to catch anoth- 
 er couple, when he was seized with a 
 pain in the right hip and knee, and 
 found he could hardly walk, so he 
 gave in that morning, and kept about 
 the premises. But he got worse, and 
 he had hardly any use in his right 
 side, from the waist downwards, and 
 was in great pain. 
 
 As the day wore on, the pain and 
 loss of power increased, and resisted 
 all his remedies ; there was no fever 
 to speak of; but Nature was grimly 
 revenging herself for many a gentler 
 warning neglected. When he real- 
 ized his condition, he was terribly cut 
 up, and sat on the sand with his head 
 in his hands for nearly two hours. 
 But, after that period of despondency, 
 he got up, took his boat-hook, and,
 
 162 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 usinf^ it as a staff, hobbled to his ar- 
 senal, and set to work. 
 
 Amoiifjst ills materials was a young 
 tree he had pulled up; the roots ran 
 at ri^lit aii;4les to the stem. He just 
 sawed off the ends of the roots, and 
 then procce(le<l to shorten the stem. 
 
 But meantime Helen, who had 
 always a secret eye on him and his 
 movements, had seen there was some- 
 tliiiifr wronjr, and came timidly and 
 asked what was the matter. 
 
 " Nothing," said he, dogj^edly. 
 
 " Then wliy did you sit so long on 
 the sand 1 I never saw you like 
 that." 
 
 " I was ruminating." 
 
 " What upon ? Not tliat I have 
 any right to ask." 
 
 " On the arrogance and folly of 
 men; they attempt more than tiiey 
 can do, and despise the petty pru- 
 dence and common sense of women, 
 and smart for it; as I am smarting 
 now for being wiser than you." 
 
 "O," said Helen; "why, what is 
 the matter ? and what is that you 
 have maiiel It looks like — Odear!" 
 
 "It is a crutch," said Hazel, with 
 forced calmness ; " and I am a crip- 
 ple." 
 
 Helen clasped her hands, and stood 
 trembling. 
 
 Hazel lost his self-control for a 
 moment, and cried out in a voice of 
 agony, " A useless cripple. I wish I 
 was dead and out of the way." 
 
 Then, ashamed of having given 
 way before her, he seized his crutch, 
 placed the crook under his arm, and 
 turned sullenly away fronr her. 
 
 Four steps he took with his crutch. 
 
 She caught him with two move- 
 ments of her supple and vigorous 
 frame. 
 
 She just laid her left hand gently 
 on his shoulder, and with her right 
 she stole the crutch softly away, and 
 let it fall upon the sand. She took 
 his right hand, and put it to her lips 
 like a subject paying homage to her 
 sovereign ; and tiien she juit her 
 strong arm under his shoulder, still 
 holding his right hand in hers, and 
 
 looked in his fiice. "No wooden 
 crutches when I am by," said she, 
 in a low voice, full of devotion. 
 
 He stood surprised, and his eyes 
 began to fdl. 
 
 " Come," said she, in a voice of 
 music. And, thus aided, he went 
 with her to her cavern. As they 
 went, she asked him tenderly where 
 the pain was. 
 
 " It was in my hip and knee," he 
 said : " but now it is nowhere ; for 
 joy has come back to my heart." 
 
 "" And to mine too," said Helen ; 
 "except for this." 
 
 The quarrel dispersed like a cloud, 
 under this calamity. There was no 
 formal reconciliation ; no discussion : 
 and this was the wisest course : for 
 the unhappy situation remained un- 
 changed ; and the friendliest discus- 
 sion could only fan the embers of dis- 
 cord aud misery gently, instead of 
 fiercely. 
 
 The pair so strangely thrown to- 
 gether commenced a new chapter of 
 their existence. It was not patient 
 and nurse over again ; Hazel, though 
 very lame, had too much spirit left to 
 accept that position. But still the 
 sexes became in a measure reversed, 
 — Helen the fisherman and forager. 
 Hazel the cook and domestic. 
 
 He was as busy as ever, but in a 
 narrow circle ; he found pearl oysters 
 near the sunk galleon, and, ere he 
 had been lame many weeks, he had 
 entirely lined the sides of the cavern 
 witli mother-of-pearl set in cement, 
 and close as mosaic. 
 
 Every day he passed an hour in 
 Paradise; for his living crutch made 
 him take a little walk with her; her 
 hand held his ; her arm supported his 
 shoulder; her sweet face was near 
 bis, full of tender solicitude; they 
 seemed to be one ; and spoke in 
 whispers to each other, like thinking 
 aloud. The causes of happiness were 
 ever present ; the causes of unhap- 
 |)incss were out of sight, and showed 
 no signs of approach. 
 
 And, of the two, Helen was the
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 163 
 
 happiest. Before a creature so pure 
 as this marries and lias cliiliiren, the 
 great maternal instinct is still there, 
 hut feeds on what it can get, — tirst a 
 doll, and then some helpless creature 
 or other. Too often she wastes her 
 heart's milk on something grown up, 
 but as selHsh as a child. Helen was 
 more fortunate ; her child was her 
 hero, now so lame that he must lean 
 on her to walk. The days passed by, 
 and the island was fast becoming the 
 world to those two, and as bright a 
 ■world as ever shone on two mortal 
 creatures. 
 
 It was a happy dream. 
 
 What a pity that dreams dissolve 
 so soon ! This had lasted for nearly 
 two months, and Hazel was getting 
 better, though still not well enough, 
 or not fool enough, to dismiss his live 
 crutch, when one afternoon Helen, 
 who had been up on the heights, 
 observed a dark cloud in the blue sky 
 towards the west. Tkcre was not an- 
 other cloud visible, and the air mar- 
 vellously clear ; time, about three 
 quarters of an hour before sunset. 
 She told Hazel about this solitary 
 cloud, and asked him, with some 
 anxiety, if it portended anotlier storm. 
 He told her to be under no alarm, — 
 there were no tempests in that latitude 
 except at the coming in and going out 
 of the rains, — hut he should like to 
 go round the Point and look at her 
 cloud. 
 
 She lent him her arm, and they 
 went round the Point; and there they 
 saw a cloud entirely different from 
 anything they had ever seen since 
 they were on the island. It was like 
 an enormous dark ribbon stretched 
 along the sky, at some little height 
 above the horizon. Notwithstanding 
 its prodigious length it got larger be- 
 fore their very eyes. 
 
 Hazel started. 
 
 Helen felt him start, and asked him, 
 with some surprise, what was the 
 matter. 
 
 "Cloud!" said he; "that is no 
 cloud. That is smoke." 
 
 " Smoke ! " echoed Helen, becom- 
 ing ai:itated in her turn. 
 
 " Yes ; the breeze is northerly, and 
 carries the smoke nearer to us ; it is 
 the smoke of a steamboat." 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 Both were greatly moved ; and 
 after one swift glance Helen stole at 
 him, neither looked at the other. 
 They spoke in flurried whispers. 
 
 " Can they see the island ? " 
 
 " I don't know ; it depends on how 
 far the boat is to windward of her 
 smoke." 
 
 " How-shall we know ? " 
 
 " If she sees the island, she will 
 make for it that moment." 
 
 " Why ? do ships never pass an un- 
 known island 1 " 
 
 " Yes. But that steamer will not 
 pass us." 
 
 " But why ? " 
 
 At this question Hazel hung his 
 head, and his lip quivered. He an- 
 swered her at last. "Because she is 
 looking for you." 
 
 Helen was struck dumb at this. 
 
 He gave his reasons. " Steamers 
 never visit these waters. Love has 
 brought that steamer out ; love that 
 will not go unrewarded. Arthur 
 Wardlaw is on board that ship." 
 
 " Have they seen us yet ? " 
 
 Hazel forced on a kind of dogged 
 fortitude. He said, " When the smoke 
 ceases to elongate, you will know 
 they have changed their course, and 
 they will change their course the mo- 
 ment the man at the mast-head sees 
 us." 
 
 " Oh ! But how do you know they 
 have a man at the mast-head "? " 
 
 " I know by myself. I should have 
 a man at the mast-head night and 
 day." 
 
 And now the situation was beyond 
 words. They both watched, and 
 watched, to see the line of smoke 
 cea?&.
 
 164 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 It continued to increase, and spread 
 eastward ; iiinl that ])rovcd the steamer 
 was coiitinuiiifj: her course. 
 
 The sun drew close to tlie horizon. 
 
 " 'I'hey don't see us,'' said Helen, 
 faintlv. 
 
 " No," said Hazel ; " not yet." 
 
 "And tlie sun is just setting;. It is 
 all over." She put her iiandkerciiief 
 to iier eyes a moment, and then, after 
 a sol) or two, she said almost cheerful- 
 ly, " Well, dear friend, we were hajjpy 
 till that smoke came to disturb us : let 
 lis try and bo as happy now it is 
 gone. Don't smile like that, it makes 
 me shudder." 
 
 '' Did I smile 1 It must have been 
 at your simplicity in thinkintr we have 
 seen ilis last of that steamer." 
 
 " And so we have." 
 
 " Not so. In tiiree hours she will 
 be at anchor in tliat hay." 
 
 " Whv, what will bring her? " 
 
 " I shall brins,^ her." 
 
 " You ? How ? " 
 
 " By lighting my bonfire." 
 
 CHAPTER XL VI. 
 
 Helen had forgotten all about the 
 bonfire. She now a^ked whether he 
 was sure those on lioard the steamer 
 could see the bonfire. Then Hazel 
 told her that it was now of prodigious 
 size and height. Some six months 
 before he was crippled he had added 
 and added to it. 
 
 "That bonfire," said he, "will 
 throw a ruddy glare over the heavens, 
 that ihey can't help seeing on board 
 the steamer. Then, as they are not 
 on a course, but on a search, they will 
 certainly nm a few miles southward to 
 see what it is. Thev will say it is 
 either a beacon or a ship on fire ; and, 
 in either case, ttiey will turn the boat's 
 head this way. Well, before they 
 iia\e run southward half a dozen 
 miles, their lookout will see the bon- 
 fire, and tin- island in its liglit. Let 
 us get to the bout, my lucilcrs arc 
 there." ^ 
 
 She lent him her arm to the boat, 
 and stood by while he made his prep- 
 arations. They were very simple. 
 He took a pine torch and smeared it 
 all over with jHtch ; then put his luci- 
 fer-box in his bosom, and took his 
 crutch. His face was drawn j)iiia- 
 bly, but his closed lips betrayed unsha- 
 ken and unshakable resolution. He 
 shouldered his crutch, and hobbled 
 up as far as the cavern. Here Helen 
 interposed. 
 
 " Don't you go toiling up the hill," 
 said she. " Give me the lucifers and 
 the torch, and let me light the beacon. 
 I shall be there in half the time j'ou 
 will." 
 
 " Thijnk you ! thank you ! " said 
 Hazel, eagerly, not to say violently. 
 
 He wanted it done ; but it killed 
 him to do it. He then gave her his 
 instructions. 
 
 " It is as big as a haystack," said 
 he, "and as dry as a chip ; and there 
 are eight bundles of straw placed ex- 
 pressly. Light^thc butidles to wind- 
 ward first, then the others; it will 
 soon be all in a blaze." 
 
 "Meanwhile," said Helen, "you 
 prepare our supper. I i'cel quite faint 
 — for want of it." 
 
 Hazel assented. 
 
 " It is the last we shall — " he wag 
 going to say it was the last they 
 would eat together ; but his voice 
 failed him, anil he hoi)bled into the 
 cavern, and tried to smother his emo- 
 tion in work. He lighted the fire, and 
 blew it into a flame with a palmetto- 
 leaf, and then he sat down awhile, 
 vciy sick at heart ; then he got up and 
 dill the cooking, sighing all the time; 
 and, just when he was beginning to 
 wonder why Helen was so long light- 
 ing eight bundles of straw, she came 
 in, looking pale. 
 
 " Is it all right ? " said he. 
 
 " Go and look," said she. " No, 
 let us have our su])per first." 
 
 Neither had any appetite : they sat 
 and kept casting strange looks at one 
 another. 
 
 To divert this anyhow, Hazel looked 
 up at the roof, and said faintly, " If I
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 165 
 
 had known, I would have made more 
 
 Iiaste, find set pearl tlure as well." 
 
 " What does that matter ? " said 
 Helen, looking down. 
 
 " Not mueh, indeed," replied he, 
 sadly. " I am a fool to utter such 
 childish ret,n'ots ; and, more than that, 
 I am a mean selfish cur to have a re- 
 gret. Come, come, we can't eat; let 
 us go round the Point and see the 
 waves redilened by the beacon that 
 gives you hack to the world you were 
 born to eml)ellish." 
 
 Helen said she would go directly. 
 And her languid reply contrasted 
 strangely with his excitement. She 
 played with her supper, and wasteil 
 time in a very nnu-<u;il way, until he 
 told her plump she was not really 
 eating, and he could wait no longer, 
 he must sio and see how the beacon 
 Avas burning. 
 
 "O, very well," said she; and they 
 went down to the beach. 
 
 She took his crutch and gave it to 
 him. Tins little thing cut him to 
 the heart. It was the first time she 
 hail accompanied him so far as that 
 without offering herself to be his 
 crutch. He sighed deeply, as he put 
 the crutch under his arm ; but he 
 was too proud to complain, only he 
 laid it all on the approaciiing steam- 
 boat. 
 
 The subtle creature by his side 
 heard the sigh, and smiled sadly at 
 being misunderstood, — but what man 
 could understand her 1 They hardly 
 spoke till they reached the Point. 
 The waves glittered in the moonlight; 
 there was no red light on the water. 
 
 " Why, what is this 1 " said Hazel. 
 " You can't have lighted the bonfire 
 in eiudit places, as I told you." 
 
 She folded her arms and stood be- 
 fore him in an attitude of defiance ; 
 all but her melting eye. 
 
 " I have not lighted" it at all," said 
 she. 
 
 Hazel stood aghast. " What have I 
 done ? " he cried. " Duty, manhood, 
 everything demanded that I should 
 light that beacon, and I trusted it to 
 you." 
 
 Helen's attitude of defiance melted 
 away : she began to cower, and hid 
 her blushing face in her hands. Then 
 she looked up implorinirly. Then she 
 uttered a wild and eloquent cry, and 
 tied from him like the wind. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIL 
 
 That cloud was really the smoke 
 of the Springbok, which had mounted 
 into air so thin that it could rise 
 no higher. The boat herself was 
 many miles to the northward, return- 
 ing full of heavy hearts from a fruit- 
 less search. She came back in a 
 higher parallel of latitude, intending 
 afterwards to steer N.W. to Easter 
 Island. The life was gone out of the 
 ship ; the father was deeply dejected, 
 and the crew could no longer feign 
 the hope they did not feel. Having 
 pursued the above course to within 
 four hundred miles of Juan Fernanilcz, 
 General Rolleston begged the captain 
 to make a bold deviation to the S. W., 
 and then see if they could find noth- 
 ing there before going to Easter Isl- 
 and. 
 
 Captain Morel and was very unwill- 
 ing to go to the S.W., the more so 
 as coal was getting short. However, 
 he had not the heart to refuse General 
 Rolleston anything. There was a 
 northerly breeze. He had the fires 
 put out, and, covering the ship with 
 canvas, sailed three hundred miles 
 S.W. But found nothing. Then he 
 took in sail, got up steam ay:ain, and 
 away for Easter Island. The ship ran 
 so fast that she had got into latitude 
 thirty-two hy ten a. m. next morning. 
 
 At lOh. 15m. the dreary monotony 
 of this cruise was broken by the man 
 at the mast-head. 
 
 " On deck there ! " 
 
 " Hullo ! " 
 
 " The schooner on our weather- 
 bow ! " 
 
 "Well, what of her?" 
 
 " She has luffed." 
 
 " Well, what o' that 1 "
 
 166 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 " She has altered her course." 
 
 " How many points? " 
 
 " She was sailing S. E., and now 
 her head is N. E." 
 
 " That is curious." 
 
 General Kollcston, who had come 
 and listened with a grain of hope, 
 now sighed, and turned away. 
 
 Tlie captain explained kindly that 
 the man was (juite right to draw his 
 captain's attention to the fact of a 
 trading-vessel altering iier course. 
 " There is a sea-grammar, General," 
 said he ; " and, wiien one seaman sees 
 another violate it, he concludes there 
 is some reason or other. Now, Jack, 
 what d' ye make of her ? " 
 
 " I can't make much of her ; she 
 don't seem to know her own mind, 
 that is all. At ten o'clock she was 
 bound for Valparaiso or the Island. 
 But now she has come about and 
 beating to windward." 
 
 " Bound for Easter Island ? " 
 
 " I danno." 
 
 " Keep your ej^e on her." 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir." 
 
 Captain Moreland told General 
 Eolleston that very few ships went to 
 Easter Island, which lies in a lovely 
 climate, hut is a miserable place ; and 
 he was telling the General that it is 
 inhabited by savages of a low order, 
 who half worship the relics of mason- 
 ry left by their more civilized prede- 
 cessors, when Jack liailed the deck 
 again. 
 
 " Well," said the captain. 
 
 " I tliink she is bound for the 
 Springbok." 
 
 The soldier received this conjecture 
 with astonishment and incredulity, 
 not to he wondered at. The steam- 
 boat headed N. W., right in the wind's 
 eye. Sixteen miles oft', at least, a 
 ship was sailing N. E. So that the 
 two courses might be represented 
 thus: — 
 
 And there hung in the air, like a black 
 mark against the blue sky, a fellow, 
 whose oracular voice came down and 
 said B was endeavoring to intercept A. 
 
 Nevertheless, time confirmed the 
 conjecture ; the schooner, having made 
 a short board to the N. E., came about, 
 and made a long board due west, 
 which was as near as she could lie to 
 the wind. On this Captain Moreland 
 laid the steamboat's head due north. 
 This brought the vessels rapidly to- 
 gether. 
 
 When they were about two miles 
 distant, the stranger slackened sail 
 and hove to, hoisting stars and stripes 
 at her mi/.zen. The union jack went 
 up the shrouds of the Springbok di- 
 rectly, and she pursued her course, 
 hut gradually slackened her steam. 
 
 General RoUeston walked the deck 
 in great agitation, and now indulged 
 in wild hopes, which Captain More- 
 land thought it best to discourage at 
 once. 
 
 " Ah, sir," he said ; " don't you 
 run into the other extreme, and im- 
 agine he has come on our business. 
 It is at sea as it is ashore : if a man 
 goes out of his course to speak to you, 
 it is for his own sake, not yours. This 
 Yankee has got men sick with scurvy, 
 and is come for lime-juice. Or his 
 water is out. Or — hallo, savages 
 aboard." 
 
 It was too true. The .schooner had 
 a cargo of savages, male and female ; 
 the males were nearly naked, hut the 
 females, strange to say, were dressed 
 to the throat in ample robes, with 
 broad and flowing skirts, and had lit- 
 tle coronets on their heads. As soon 
 as the schooner hove to, the fiddle had 
 struck up, and the savages were now 
 dancing in parties of four ; the men 
 doing a sort of monkey hornpipe in 
 quick pace, with their hands nearly 
 touching the ground ; the women, on 
 the contrary, erect and cjueenly, swept 
 about in slow rhythm, with most 
 graceful and coquettish movements 
 of the arms and hands, and bewitch- 
 ing smiles. 
 
 The steamboat came alongside, but
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 167 
 
 at a certain distance, to avoid all 
 chance of collision ; and the crew 
 clustered at the side and cheered the 
 savajjes dancing. The poor General 
 was forgotten at the merry sight. 
 
 Presently a negro in white cotton, 
 with a face blacker than the savages, 
 stepped forward and hoisted a board, 
 on wiiich was printed very large. 
 Are you 
 
 Having allowed this a moment to 
 sink into the mind, he reversed the 
 board, and showed these words, 
 also printed large, The Spring- 
 bok 1 
 
 There was a thrilling murmur on 
 board ; and, after a pause of sur- 
 prise, the OjUestion was answered by 
 a loud cheer and waving of hats. 
 
 The reply was perfectly under- 
 stood ; almost immediately a boat 
 was lowered by some novel machin- 
 ery, and pulled towards the steamer. 
 There were two men in it : the skip- 
 per and the negro. The skipper 
 came up the side of the Springbok. 
 He was loosely dressed in some light 
 drab-colored stuff and a huge straw 
 hat ; a man with a long Puritanical 
 head, a nose inclined to be aquiline, a 
 face bronzed by weather and heat, 
 thin, resolute lips, and a square chin. 
 But for a certain breadth between 
 his keen gray eyes, which revealed 
 more intellect than Cromwell's Iron- 
 sides were encumbered with, he 
 might have passed for one of that 
 hard-praying, harder-hitting frater- 
 nity. 
 
 He came on deck, just touched his 
 hat, as if to brush away a fly, and, 
 removing an enormous cigar from 
 his mouth, said, " WaJ, and so this 
 is the Springbok. Spry little boat 
 she is ; how many knots can ye get 
 out of her now? Not that I am 
 cnrious." 
 
 " About twelve knots." 
 
 " And when the steam 's off the 
 bile, how many can you sail ? Not 
 that it is my business." 
 
 " Eight or nine. What is your 
 business f " 
 
 " Hum ! You have been over 
 
 some water looking for that gal. 
 Where do ye hail from last?" 
 
 " The Society Islands. Did you 
 board me to hear me my cate- 
 chism 1 " 
 
 " No, I am not one of your pry- 
 ing sort. Where are ye bound for 
 now ? " 
 
 " I am bound for Easter Island." 
 " Have you heard anything of the 
 gal ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " And when do ye expec' to go 
 back to England as wise as ye 
 came 1 " 
 
 " Never while the ship can swim," 
 cried Moi'eland, angrily, to hide his 
 despondency from this stranger. 
 " And now it is my turn, I think. 
 What schooner is this ? by whom 
 commanded, and whither bound 1 " 
 
 " The Julia Dodd ; Joshua Fulla- 
 love ; bound for Juan Fernandez 
 with the raw material of civilization 
 — look at the varmint skippin' — 
 and a printing-press ; an' that 's the 
 instrument of civilization, I ratther 
 think." 
 
 " Well, sir ; and why in Heaven's 
 name did yon change your course ? " 
 
 " Wal, I reckon I changed it — to 
 tell you a lie." 
 
 "To tell us a lie?" 
 
 "Ay; the darnedest etamal lie 
 that ever came out of a man's mouth. 
 Fust, there 's an unknown island 
 somewheres about. That 's a kinder 
 flourish beforehand. On that island 
 there 's an English gal wrecked." 
 
 Exclamations burst forth on every 
 side at this. 
 
 " And she is so tarnation 'cute, she 
 is flying ducks all over creation with 
 a writing tied to their legs, telling 
 the tale, and setting down the lon- 
 gitude. There, if that isn't a buster, 
 I hope I may never live to tell an- 
 other." 
 
 " God bless you, sir," cried the 
 General. " Where is the island"? " 
 
 " What island ? " 
 
 " The island where my child is 
 wrecked." 
 
 " What, are you the gal's father 1 "
 
 168 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 said Joshua, with a sudden touch of 
 feeling'. 
 
 " 1 am, sir. Pray withhold noth- 
 iiifi' from me you know." 
 
 " Wliy, Cuiiiile," said the Yanlcee, 
 soothingly; "don't I tell you it 's a 
 buster? However, the lie i? none o' 
 mine. It 's that old cuss Skinflint 
 set it afioiit ; he is always pisoning 
 these peaceful waters." 
 
 Uulleston asked eagerly who Skin- 
 flint was, and where he could be 
 found. 
 
 " Wal, he is a sorter sea Jack-of- 
 all-trades, etarnally cruising about to 
 buy gratis, — those he buys of call it 
 stealing. Got a rotten old cutter, 
 manned by his wife and f imily. They 
 get coal out of me for fur, and sell 
 the coal at double my price ; they kill 
 seals and dress the skins aboard ; kill 
 fish and salt 'em aboard. Ye know 
 when tliat fam'iy is at sea by the 
 smell that pervades the briny deep 
 an' heralds their approach. Yester- 
 day the air smelt awful : so I said to 
 Vespasian here, 'I think that sea- 
 skunk is out, for there's something a 
 pisoning the cerulean waves an' sue- 
 cun".ambient air.' We hadn't sailed 
 not fifty miles more before we run 
 agin him. Their clothes trere dryimj 
 all afiottt the rif/fiinfj. Hails me, the 
 varmint does. Vesp and I, we work 
 the printing-press together, an' so or- 
 der him to looward, not to taint our 
 Otaheitans, that stink of ile at home, 
 but 1 had 'em bilcd before I 'd buy 
 'em, an' now they 're vilets. ' Wal 
 now. Skinflint,' says I ; 'I reckon 
 you 're come to bring me that har- 
 poon o' mine you stole last time you 
 was at my island ? ' 'I never saw 
 your harpoon,' says he, ' I want to 
 know have you come across the 
 Springbok?' 'Mebbe I have,' says 
 I ; ' why do you ask ? ' ' Got news 
 for lier,' says he ; ' and can't find her 
 nowheres.' So then we set to and 
 fenced a bit ; and this old varmint, 
 to put me oft' the truth, told me the 
 buster. A month ago or mote he 
 was boarded — by a duck. And this 
 yar duck had a writing tied to his 
 
 leg, and this yar writing said an Tilng- 
 lish gal was wrecked on an island, 
 and put down the very longitude. 
 ' Show me that duck,' says I, iron- 
 ical. ' D' ye take iis for fools ? ' savs 
 he; 'we ate the duck for supper.' 
 ' That was like ye,' says I ; 'if an 
 angel brought your pardon down 
 from heights celestial, you 'd roast 
 him, and sell his feathers for swan's- 
 down ; mebbe ye ate the writing? I 
 know y' are a hungry lot.' ' The 
 writing is in my cabin,' says he. 
 ' Show it me,' says I, ' an' mebbe 
 I '11 believe ye.' No, the cuss would 
 only show it to the Springbok ; 
 ' There 's a reward,' says he. ' What 's 
 the price of a soul aboard your cut- 
 ter ? ' I asked him. ' Have you part- 
 ed with yours, as you want to buy 
 one ? ' says he. ' Not one as would 
 carry me right slick away to ever- 
 lasting blazes,' says I. So then we 
 said good morning, and he bore away 
 for Valparaiso. Pi'esently I saw 
 your smoke, and that you would nev- 
 er overhaul old Stinkamalec on that 
 track ; so I came about. Now I tell 
 ye that old cuss knows where the gal 
 is, and mebbe got her tied hand and 
 fut in his cabin. An' I 'm kinder sot 
 on English gals ; they put me in 
 mind of butter and honey. Why, 
 my schooner is named after one. So 
 now, Cunnle, clap on steam for Val- 
 paraiso, and you '11 soon overhaul the 
 old stink-pot : you may know him by 
 the brown patch in his jib-sail, the 
 ontidy varmint. Pull out your purso 
 and bind him to drop lying about 
 ducks and geese, and tell you the 
 truth ; he knows where your gal is, I 
 swan. Wal, ye need n't smother 
 me." For by this time he was the 
 centre of a throng, all pushing and 
 driving to catch his words. 
 
 Ca|)tain Moreland begged him to 
 step down into his cabin, and there 
 the General thanked him with great 
 warmth and agitation for his human- 
 ity. " AVc will follow your advice at 
 once," he said. " Is there anything 
 I can offer vou, without offence ? " 
 
 " Wal," "drawled the Yankee, " I
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 169 
 
 guess not. Business an' sentiment 
 won't mix nohow. Business took 
 me to the island, sentiment brouglit 
 me here. I '11 take a shake-hand all 
 round : and if y' have got live fowls 
 to spare, I '11 be obliged to 3'ou for a 
 couple. Ye see I 'm colonizing that 
 darned island : an' sowinj;- in with 
 crain, an' Otaheitans, an' niggers, an' 
 irishmen, an' all the cream o' crea- 
 tion ; an' I 'd be glad of a couple o' 
 Dorkins to crow the lazy varmint 
 up." 
 
 This very mockrate request was 
 heartily complied with, and the accla- 
 mation and cheers of the crew followed 
 this strange character to his schooner, 
 at which his eye glistened and twinkled 
 with quiet satisfaction, but he made it 
 a point of honor not to move a muscle. 
 
 Before he could get under way, the 
 Sin'ingbok took a circuit, and, passing 
 within a hundred yards of him, tired 
 a gun to leeward by way of coinpli- 
 ment, set a cloud of canvas, and tore 
 through the water at her highest 
 speed. Outside the port of Valparaiso 
 she fell in with Skinflint, and found 
 him not quite so black as he was 
 painted. The old fellow showed some 
 parental feeling, j^roduced the bag at 
 once to General Rolleston, and assured 
 him " a wearied duck had come on 
 board, and his wife had detached the 
 writing. 
 
 They took in coal : and then ran 
 westward once more, every heart 
 beating high with confident hope. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIIL 
 
 Helen's act was strange, and de- 
 mands a word of explanation. If she 
 had thought the steamboat was a 
 strange vessel, she would have lighted 
 the bonfire : if she had known her 
 father was on board, she would have 
 liuhted it with joy. But Hazel, whose 
 every word now was gospel, had said 
 it was Arthur Wardlaw in that boat, 
 searching for her. 
 
 Still, so strong is the impulse in all 
 
 civilized beings to get back to civiliza- 
 tion, that she went up that lull as 
 honestly intending to light the bonfire 
 as Hazel intended it to be lighted. 
 But, as she went, her courage cooled, 
 and her feet began to go slowly, as 
 her mind ran swiftly forward to con- 
 sequence upon consequence. To li«iht 
 that bonfire was to bring Arthur 
 Wardlaw down upon herself and Ha- 
 zel living alone and on intimate terms. 
 Arthur would come and claim her 
 to his face. Could she disallow his 
 claim ■? Gratitude would now be oia 
 his side as well as good faith. 
 What a shock to Arthur ! What 
 torture for Hazel ! torture that he 
 foresaw, or why the face of anguish, 
 that dragged even now at her heart- 
 strings ? And then it could end only 
 in one way ; she and Hazel would 
 leave the island in Arthur's ship. 
 What a voyage for all three ! She 
 stood transfixed by shame ; her whole 
 body blushed at what she saw coming. 
 Then once more Hazel's face rose 
 before her ; poor crippled Hazel ! her 
 hero and her patient. She sat down 
 and sighed, and could no more light 
 the fire than she could have put it out 
 if another had lighted it- 
 She was a girl tliat could show you 
 at times she had a father as well as a 
 mother : but that evening she was all 
 woman. 
 
 They met no more that night. 
 In the morning his face was hag- 
 gard, and showed a mental struggle ; 
 but hers placid and quietly beaming, 
 for the very reason that she had made 
 a great sacrifice. She was one of that 
 sort. 
 
 And this difference between them 
 was a foretaste. 
 
 His tender conscience pricked him 
 sore. To see her sit beaming there, 
 when, if he had done his own duty 
 with liis own hands she would be on 
 her way to England ! Yet his remorse 
 was dumb ; for, if he gave it vent, 
 then he must seem ungrateful to her 
 for her sacrifice. 
 
 She saw his deep and silent com- 
 punction, approved it secretly; said
 
 170 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 nothinfj, but smiled, and beamed, and 
 soothed. He could not resist this : 
 and wild thrills of joy and hope passed 
 throufi'h him, visions of unbroken bliss 
 far from the world. 
 
 But this sweet delirium was fol- 
 lowed by niisf^ivings of another kind. 
 And here she was at fault. What 
 could they be ? 
 
 It was the voice of conscience tell- 
 ing him that he was really winning 
 her love, once inaccessible ; and, if so, 
 was liound to tell her his whole story, 
 and let her judf;c between him and the 
 world, before slie made any more sacri- 
 fices for him. But it is hard to stop 
 great happiness : harder to stop it and 
 ruin it. Every night, as he lay alone, 
 he said, " To-morrow I will tell her 
 all, and make her the judge." But 
 in the morning her bright face crushed 
 his purjiose by the fear of clouding it. 
 His limbs got strong and his heart got 
 weak : and they used to take walks, 
 and her head came near his shoulder : 
 and the path of duty began to be set 
 thicker than ever with thorns ; and the 
 path of love with primroses. One day 
 she made him sit to her for his por- 
 trait ; and, under cover of artistic en- 
 thusiasm, told him his beard was god- 
 like, and nothing in the world could 
 ecjual it for beauty. She never saw 
 but one at all like it, poor Mr. Sea- 
 ton's ; but even that was very inferior 
 to his : and then she dismissed the 
 sitter : " Poor thing," said she, " you 
 are pale and tired." And she began 
 to use ornaments : took her bracelets 
 out of her bag, and picked pearls out 
 of her walls, and made a coronet, un- 
 der which her eyes flashed at night 
 with su])Ciiative beauty, — conscious 
 beauty brightened by the sense of 
 being admired and looked at by the 
 eye she desired to please. 
 
 She revered him. He had improved 
 her character, and she knew it, and 
 often told him so. " Call me llazc- 
 lia," she said; "make me likcr you, 
 still." 
 
 One day, he came suddenly through 
 the jungle, and found her reading her 
 prayer-book. 
 
 He took it from her, not meaning 
 to be rude, neither, but inquisitive. 
 
 It was open at the marriage-service, 
 and her cheeks were dyed scarlet. 
 
 His heart panted. He was a clergy- 
 man ; he could read that service over 
 them both. 
 
 Would it 1)0 a marriage ? 
 
 Not in England : but in some coun- 
 tries it would. Why not in this ? 
 This was not England. 
 
 He looked up. Her head was 
 averted ; she was downright distressed. 
 
 He was sorry to have made her 
 blush : so he took her hand and kissed 
 it tenderly, so tenderly that his heart 
 seemed to go into his lips. She thrilled 
 under it, and her white brow sank 
 upon his shoulder. 
 
 The sk}' Avas a vault of purple with 
 a flaming topaz in the centre ; the sea, 
 a heavenly blue ; the warm air breathed 
 heavenly odors ; flaming macaws 
 wheeled overhead ; humming-birds, 
 more gorgeous than any flower, 
 buzzed round their heads, and amazed 
 the eye with delight, then cooled it 
 with the deep green of the jungle into 
 which they dived. 
 
 It was a Paradise with the sun 
 smiling down on it, and the ocean 
 smiling up, and the air impregnated 
 with love. Here they were both con- 
 tent now to spend the rest of their 
 days — 
 " The world forgetting ; by the world forgot." 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 The Springbok arrived in due 
 course at longitude 103 deg. .31 min., 
 but saw no island. This was dis- 
 piriting ; but still Captain Moreland 
 did not despair. 
 
 He aske(l General Eolleston to ex- 
 amine the writing carefully, and tell 
 him was that Miss KoUeston's hand- 
 writing. 
 
 The General shook his head sor- 
 rowfully. 
 
 " No," said he ; " it is nothing like 
 my child's hand."
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 171 
 
 "Wliy, all the better," said Cap- 
 tain Morelivnd ; " the lady has got 
 somebody about her who knows a 
 thing or two. The man that could 
 catch wild ducks and turn 'em into 
 postmen could hit on the longitude 
 somehow ; and he docs n't pretend to 
 be exact in the latitude." 
 
 Upon this he ran northward 400 
 miles ; which took him three days ; 
 for they stopped at night. 
 
 No island. 
 
 He then ran south 500 miles ; stop- 
 ping at night. 
 
 No island. 
 
 Then he took the vessel zigzag. 
 
 Just before sunset, one lovely day, 
 the man at the mast-head sang out : — 
 
 " On deck there ! " 
 
 " Hullo ! " 
 
 " Something in sight ; on our 
 weather-bow." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " Looks like a mast. No. Don't 
 know what it is." 
 
 " Point." 
 
 The sailor pointed with his finger. 
 
 Captain Moreland ordered the ship's 
 course to be altered accordingly. By 
 this time General Rolleston was on 
 deck. The ship ran two miles on the 
 new course ; and all this time the 
 topman's glass was levelled, and the 
 crew climbed about the rigging all 
 eyes and ears. 
 
 At last the clear hail came down. 
 
 " I can make it out now, sir." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " It is a palm-tree." 
 
 The captain jumped on a gun, and 
 waved his hat grandly, and instantly 
 the vessel* rang with a lusty cheer ; 
 and, for once, sailors gabbled like 
 washerwomen. 
 
 They ran till they saw the island 
 in the moonlight, and the giant Palm, 
 black, and sculptured out of the violet 
 sky ; then they set the lead going, 
 and it warned them not to come too 
 close. They anchored oiF the west 
 coast. 
 
 At daybreak they moved slowly on, 
 still sounding as they went ; and, 
 
 rounding the West Point, General 
 Rolleston saw written on the guanoed 
 rocks in large letters : — 
 
 AN ENGLISH LADY WRECKED HERE. 
 HASTE TO HER RESCUE. 
 
 He and Moreland shook hands ; 
 and how their eyes glistened ! 
 
 Presently there was a stranger in- 
 scription still upon the rocks, — a 
 rough outline of the island on au 
 enormous scale, showing the coast- 
 line, the reefs, the shallow water, and 
 the deep water. 
 
 " Ease her ! Stop her ! " 
 
 The captain studied this original 
 chart witli his glass, and crept slowly 
 on for the west passage. 
 
 But, warned by the soundings 
 marked on the rock, he did not at- 
 tempt to go through the passage, but 
 came to an anchor, and lowered his 
 boat. 
 
 The sailors were all on the qui vive 
 to land, but the captain, to their infi- 
 nite surprise, told them only three 
 persons would land that morning, — 
 himself, his son, and General Rolles- 
 ton. 
 
 The fact is, this honest captain had 
 got a misgiving, founded on a general 
 view of human nature. He expected 
 to find the girl with two or three sail- 
 ors, one of tiiem united to her by 
 some nautical ceremony, duly wit- 
 nessed, but such as a military officer 
 of distinction could hardly be expected 
 to approve. He got into the boat in 
 a curious state of delight, dashed with 
 uncomfortable suspense ; and they 
 rowed gently for the west passage. 
 
 As for General Rolleston, now it 
 was he needed all his fortitude. Sup- 
 pose the lady was not Helen ! After 
 all, the chances were against her being 
 there. Suppose she was dead and 
 buried in that island ! Suppose that 
 fatal disease, with whicii she had 
 sailed, had been accelerated by hard- 
 ships, and Providence permitted him 
 only to receive her last sigh. All 
 these misgivings crowded on him the 
 moment he drew so near the oliject 
 which had looked all brightness so
 
 172 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 lon<^ as it wns tmnttainaWe. ITc sat 
 jiale and hravi', in tlie lioat; l)ut his 
 doul)ts and ttars were greater than 
 Ills hope. 
 
 Tiiey rounded Telcjjraph Point, 
 and in a moment Paradise Ba)- burst 
 on thctn, and Hazel's boat within a 
 hiuiilred yards of them. It was lialt- 
 tide. They beached the boat, and 
 General KoUeston landed. Cajjtain 
 Moreland grasped his hand, and said, 
 " Call us if it is all right." 
 
 General Kollcston returned the 
 pressure of that honest hand, and 
 marched up the beach just as if he 
 was going into action. 
 
 He came to the boat. It had an 
 awning over the stern, and was clearly 
 used as a sleeping-j)lace. A series of 
 ■wooden pipes standing on uprights 
 led from this up to the cliff. The 
 pipes were in foct mere sections of the 
 sago-tree with the soft pith driven 
 out. As this was manifestly a tube 
 of communication, General KoUeston 
 followed it until he came to a sort of 
 veranda with a cave opening on it ; 
 he entered the cave, and was dazzled 
 by its most unexpected beauty. He 
 seemed to be in a gigantic nautilus. 
 Eoofand sides, and the very chimney, 
 were one blaze of mother-of-pearl. 
 But, alter the first start, brighter to 
 him was an old shawl he saw on a 
 nail ; for that showed it was a wo- 
 man's abode. He tore down the old 
 shawl, and carried it to the light. He 
 recognized it as Helen's. Her rugs 
 were in a corner ; he rushed in, and 
 felt them all over with trembling 
 hands. They were still warm, though 
 she had left her bed some time. He 
 came out wild with joy, and shouted 
 to Moreland, "She is alive! She is 
 alive ! She is alive ! " Then fell on 
 his knees and thanked God. 
 
 A cry came down to him from 
 above: he looked up as he knelt, and 
 there was a female figure dressed in 
 white, stretching out its hands as if it 
 would fly down to him. Its eyes 
 gleamed ; he knew them all that way 
 off. He stretched out his hands as 
 eloquently, and then he got up to 
 
 meet her ; htit the stout soldier's limbs 
 were stifi'er than of old ; and he got 
 up so slowly, tliat, ere he could take 
 a step, theixi came flying to hin>, with 
 little screams and inariiciilate cries, 
 no living skeleton, nor consumptive 
 young lady, but a grand creature, 
 tanned here and there, rosy as the 
 morn, and full of lu-ty vigor ; a body 
 all health, strength, and beauty, a 
 soul all love. She flung herself all 
 over him, in a moment, with cries of 
 love unspeakable ; and then it was, 
 "O my darling, my darling! O my 
 own, own ! Ha, ha, ha, ha! 0,0, 
 O, O! Is it you? is it? can it? 
 Pajja ! Papa ! " then little convulsive 
 hands patting him, and feelinir his 
 beard and shoulders; then a sudden 
 hail of violent kisses on his head, his 
 eyes, his arms, his hands, his knees. 
 Then a stout soldier, broken down by 
 this, and sobbing for jov. " my 
 child! My flesh and blood ! O, O, 
 O ! " Then all manhood melted away 
 except paternity ; and a father turned 
 mother, and clinging, kissing, and 
 rocking to and fro with his child, and 
 both crying for joy as if their hearts 
 would burst. 
 
 A sight for angels to look down at 
 and rejoice. 
 
 But what mortal pen could paint 
 it? 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 TnEY gave a long time to pure joy 
 before cither of tiiein cared to put 
 questions or compare notes. But at 
 last he asked her, " Who was on the 
 island besides her ? " 
 
 " O," said she, "only my guardian 
 angel. PoorJNIr. Welch died the first 
 week we were here." 
 
 He ))arted the hair on her brow, and 
 kissed it tenderly. " And who is your 
 guardian angel ? " 
 
 " Why, you are now, my own papa : 
 and well you have proved it. To 
 think of your being the one to come, 
 at your age ! " 
 
 " Well, never mind me. Who has
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 173 
 
 taken such care of my child ? — this 
 the sick girl they frightened me 
 about ! " 
 
 "Indeed, papa, I icas a dying girl. 
 My very iiand was wasted. Look at 
 it now ; brown as a berry, but so 
 plump; you owe that to him: and, 
 papa, I can walk twenty miles with- 
 out fatigue : and so strong ; I could 
 take you up in my arms and carry, I 
 know. But I am content to cat you." 
 (A shower of kisses.) '" I hope you 
 will like him." 
 
 " My own Helen. Ah ! I am a hap- 
 py old man this day. What is his 
 name ? " 
 
 " Mr. Hazel. He is a clergyman. 
 O papj, I hope you ici/l like him, for 
 he has saved my life more tiian once : 
 and then he has been so generous, so 
 delicate, so patient ; for I used him 
 very ill at first ; and you will find my 
 character as much improved as my 
 health : and all owing to Mr. Hazel. 
 He is a clergyman ; and 0, so good, 
 so humble, so clever, so self-denying ! 
 Ah ! how can I ever repay Iiim 7 " 
 
 "Well, I shall be glad to see this 
 paragon, and shake him l)v the hand. 
 You may imagine what I feel to any 
 one that is kind to my darling. An 
 old gentleman 1 about my age ? " 
 
 " O no, papa." 
 
 " Hum ! " 
 
 " If he had been old I should not be 
 here ; for he has had to fight for me 
 against cruel men with knives : and 
 work like a horse. He built me a 
 hut, and made me this cave, and al- 
 most killed himself in my service. 
 Poor Mr. Hazel ! " 
 
 " How old is he ? " 
 
 " Dearest papa, I never asked him 
 that : but I think he is four or five 
 years older than me, and a hundred 
 years better than I shall ever be, lam 
 afraid. What is the matter, dar- 
 ling?" 
 
 " Nothing, child, nothing." 
 
 " Don't tell me. Can't I read your 
 dear fai-e ? " 
 
 " Come, let me read yours. Look 
 me in the face, now : full." 
 
 He took her by the shoulders, firm- 
 
 ly, hut not tlie least roughly, and 
 looked straight into her hazel eyes. 
 She blushed at this ordeal, — blushed 
 scarlet ; but her eyes, pure as Heaven, 
 faced his fairly, though with a puz- 
 zled look. 
 
 He concluded this paternal inspec- 
 tion by kissing her on the brow. " I 
 was an old fool," he muttered. 
 
 " What do you say, dear papa ? " 
 
 " Nothing, nothing. Kiss me again. 
 Well, love, you had better find this 
 guardian angel of yours, that I may 
 take him by the hand and give him a 
 father's blessing, and make him some 
 little return by carrying him home to 
 England along with my darling." 
 
 " I '11 call him, papa. Where can 
 he be gone, I wonder." 
 
 She ran out to the terrace, and 
 called, — 
 
 "Mr. Hazel! Mr. Hazel! I don't 
 see him ; but he can't be far off. Mr. 
 Hazel ! " 
 
 Then she came back and made her 
 father sit down : and she sat at his 
 knee, beaming with delight. 
 
 " Ah, papa," said she, " it was you 
 who loved me best in England. It 
 was you that came to look for 
 me." 
 
 " No," said he " there are others 
 there that love you as well in their 
 way. Poor Wardlaw ! on his sick- 
 bed for you, cut down like a flower 
 the moment he heard you were lost 
 in the Proserpine. Ah, and I have 
 broken faith." 
 
 " That is a story," said Helen ; 
 "you could n't." 
 
 " For a moment, I mean ; I prom- 
 ised the dear old man — he furnished 
 the ship, the men, and the money to 
 find you. He says you are as much 
 his daughter as mine." 
 
 " Well, but what did you promise 
 him 1 " said Helen, blushing and in- 
 terrupting hastily, for she could not 
 bear the turn matters were taking. 
 
 " O, only to give you the second 
 kiss from Arthur. Come, better late 
 than never." She knelt before him, 
 and put out her forehead instead of her 
 lips. " There," said the General,
 
 174 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 " that kiss is from Arthur Wardlaw, 
 your intended. Wliv, who the deuce 
 is this 1 " 
 
 A young man was standing won- 
 der-struck at the entrance, and had 
 heard tlie General's hist words ; they 
 Avent tlirougli liim lilic a knife. Gen- 
 eral KoUcston stared at him. 
 
 Helen uttered an ejaculation of 
 pleasure, and said, " This is my dear 
 lather, and he wants to thank 
 you-" 
 
 " I don't understand this," said the 
 General. " I thought you told me there 
 was nobody on the island but you and 
 your guardian angel. Did you count 
 this i)oor fellow for nobody ? Why, 
 he did you a good turn once." 
 
 " (J paj)ii ! " said Helen, rcproach- 
 fullv. " Why, this is my guardian 
 angel. This is Mr. Hazek" 
 
 The General looked from one to 
 another in amazement, then he said 
 to Helen, " This your Mr. Hazel 1" 
 
 " Yes, papa." 
 
 " Why, you don't mean to tell me 
 you don't know this man "'. " 
 
 " Know him, papa ! why, of course 
 I know Mr. Hazel ; know him and 
 revere him, beyond all the world, ex- 
 cept you." 
 
 The General lost patience. "Arc 
 you out of your senses?" said he; 
 " this man here is no Hazel. Why, 
 this is James Scaton — our gardener 
 — a ticket-of-leave man." 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 At this fearful insult Helen drew 
 back from her father with a cry of 
 dismay, and then moved towards Hazel 
 with her hands extended, as if to 
 guard him from another blow, and at 
 the same time de|)recato his resent- 
 ment. But then she saw his dejected 
 attitude ; and she stood confounded, 
 looking from one to the otiicr. 
 
 " I knew him in a moment l)y his 
 beard," said the General, coolly. 
 
 " Ah ! " cried Helen, and stood 
 transiixed. She glared at Hazel and 
 
 his beard with dilating eyes, and be- 
 gan to tremble. 
 
 Then she crept 1)aek to her father 
 and held him tight; but still looked 
 over her shoulder at Hazel with dilat- 
 ing eyes and paling cheek. 
 
 As for Hazel, his deportment all 
 this time went far towards convicting 
 him ; he leaned against the side of 
 the cave, and hung his head in silence : 
 and his face was ashy jialc. When 
 General Rolleston saw his deep dis- 
 tress, and the sudden terror and re- 
 pugnance the revelation seemed to 
 create in his daughter's mind, he felt 
 sorry he had gone so far, and said : 
 " Well, well ; it is not for me to judge 
 you liarshl}' ; for you have Jaid mo 
 unrlcr a deep obligation : and, after 
 all, I can see good reasons why you 
 should conceal your name from other 
 people. But you ought to have told 
 my daughter the truth." 
 
 Helen interrupted him ; or, rather, 
 she seemed unconscious he was sjieak- 
 ing. She had never for an instant 
 taken her eye off the culprit: and 
 now she spoke to him : — 
 
 "Who, and what, are you, sir? " 
 
 " Mv name is Robert Penfold." 
 
 " Penfokl ! Seaton ! " cried Helen. 
 "Alias upon alias ! " And she turned 
 to her father in despair. Then to 
 Hazel again. "Are you what papa 
 says ? " 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " papa ! papa ! " cried Helen, 
 " then there is no truth nor honesty 
 in all the world ! " And she turned 
 her back on Robert Penfold, and cried 
 and sobbed u]>on her father's breast. 
 
 the amazement and anguish of 
 that hour ! The pure atleelion and 
 reverence that would have blest a 
 worthy man, wasted on a convict ! 
 Her heart's best treasures flung on a 
 dunghill ! This is a woman's great- 
 est loss on earth. And Helen sank, 
 and sobbed under it. 
 
 General Rolleston, whose own heart 
 was fortified, took a shallow view of 
 the situation ; and, moreover, Helen's 
 face was hidden on his bosom ; and 
 what ho saw was Hazel's manly
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 175 
 
 and intelligent countenance pale and 
 dnxirsed with agony and shame. 
 
 " Come, come," he said, gently, 
 "don't cry about it; it is not your 
 fault : and don't be too hard on the 
 man. You told me he had saved 
 your life." 
 
 " ^yould he had not!" said the 
 sobbing- girl. 
 
 " There, Seaton," said the General. 
 " Now you see the consequences of 
 deceit ; it wipes out the deepest obli- 
 gations." He resumed, in a different 
 tone, " But not with me. This is a 
 woman : but I am a man, and know 
 how a bad man could have abused 
 the situation in which I found you 
 two." 
 
 " Not worse than he has done," 
 cried Helen. 
 
 " \yiiat do you tell mo, girl ! " 
 said General RoUeston, beginning to 
 tremble in his turn. 
 
 " What could he do worse than 
 steal my esteem and veneration, and 
 drag my heart's best feelings in the 
 dirt? 0, wiiere — where can I ever 
 look for a guide, instructor, and faith- 
 ful friend, after this 1 He seemed all 
 truth ; and "lie is all a lie : tlie world 
 is all a lie : would I could leave it 
 this moment ! " 
 
 " This is all romantic nonsense," 
 said General Rolleston, beginning to 
 be angry. " You are a little fool, and 
 in your ignorance and innocence have 
 no idea how well this young fellow 
 has behaved on the whole. I tell you 
 what ; — in spite of this one fault, I 
 should like to shake him by the hand. 
 I will too ; and then admonish him 
 afterwards." 
 
 " You shall not. You shall not," 
 cried Helen, seizing him almost vio- 
 lently by the arm. " You take him 
 by the hand ! A monster ! How 
 dare you steal into my esteem 1 How 
 dare you be a miracle of goodness, 
 self-denial, learning, and every virtue 
 that a lady might worship and thank 
 God for, when all the time you are a 
 vile, convicted — " 
 
 " I '11 thank you not to say that 
 word," said Hazel, firmly. 
 
 " I '11 call you what you are, if I 
 choose," said Helen, defiantly. But 
 for all that bhe did not do it. She 
 said piteously, " Wiiat offence had I 
 ever given you 1 What crime had I 
 ever committed, that you must make 
 me the victim of this diabolical de- 
 ceit"? O sir, what powers of mind 
 you have wasted to achieve this vic- 
 tory over a poor irnoffending girl ! 
 What was your motive? What good 
 could come of it to you ? He won't 
 speak to me. He is not even penitent. 
 Sullen and obstinate ! He shall be 
 taken to England, and well punished 
 for it. Papa, it is your duty." 
 
 " Helen," said the General, " you 
 ladies are rather too fond of hitting 
 a man when he is down. And you 
 speak daggers, as the saying is ; and 
 then wish you had bitten your tongue 
 off sooner. You are my child, but 
 you are also a British subject ; and, 
 if you charge me on my duty to take 
 this man to England and have him 
 imprisoned, I must. But, before you 
 go that length, you had better hear 
 the whole story." 
 
 " Sir," said Robert Penfold, quietly, 
 " I will go back to prison this minute, 
 if she wishes it." 
 
 " How dare you interrupt papa," 
 said Helen, haughtily, but with a 
 great sob. 
 
 " Come, come," said the General, 
 " be quiet, botii of vou, and let me say 
 my say." (To Robert.) " You had 
 better turn your head away, for I am 
 a straight-forward man, and I'm going 
 to show her you are not a villain, but 
 a madman. This Robert Penfold 
 wrote me a letter, imploring me to 
 find him some honest employment, 
 however menial. That looked well, 
 and I made him my gardener. He 
 was a capital gardener ; but one fine 
 day he caught sight of you. You are 
 a very lovely girl, though you don't 
 seem to know it ; and lie is a madman ; 
 and he fell in love with you." Helen 
 uttered an ejaculation of great sur- 
 prise. The General resumed : " Pie 
 can only have seen you at a distance, 
 or you would recognize him; but
 
 176 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 (really it is laup:hablc) he saw you 
 somehow, tlioufih you did not see 
 him, and — ^^'ell, his insanity hurt 
 himself, and did not hurt you. You 
 rememlicr how he suspected burglars, 
 and watched niglit after night under 
 your window. That was out of 
 love for you. His insanity took the 
 form of lidelity and humble devotion. 
 lie got a wound for his pains, poor 
 fellow ! and you made Arthur Ward- 
 law get him a clerk's i)laee." 
 
 " Arthur Wardlaw ! " cried Seaton. 
 " Was it to liim I owed it ? " and he 
 groaned aloud. 
 
 Said Helen : " He hates poor Ar- 
 tluir, his benefactor." Then to Pen- 
 fold : " If you are that James Seaton, 
 you received a letter from me." 
 
 " I did," said Penfokl ; and, put- 
 ting iiis hand in iiis bosom, he drew out 
 a letter and showed it her. 
 
 " Let me sec it," said Helen. 
 
 " O no ! don't take this from me, 
 too," said he, piteously. 
 
 General Rolleston continued. "The 
 5ay you sailed he disajipeared ; and 
 I am afraid not without some wild 
 idea of being in the same ship with 
 you. Tiiis was very reprehensible. 
 5)o you hear, young man 1 But 
 what is the consc([uencc ? You get 
 shipwrecked together, and the young 
 madman takes such care of you that 
 I find you well and hearty, and call- 
 ing him your guardian anyel. And 
 — another thing to his credit — he 
 has set his wits to work to restore 
 you to the world. These ducks, one 
 of which brings me here 1 Of course 
 it was he who contrived that, not 
 you. Young man, yon must learn to 
 look things in the face ; this young 
 lady is not of your sphere, to begin ; 
 and, in the next place, she is engaged 
 to Mr. Arthur Wardhiw ; and I am 
 come out in his steamboat to take her 
 to him. And as for you, Helen, take 
 my advice ; think what most convicts 
 arc, compared to this one. Shut your 
 eyes eniirely to his folly as I shall ; 
 and let you and I think only of his 
 good deeds, and so make him all the 
 return we can. Y"ou and I will go on 
 
 board the steamboat directly ; and, 
 when we are there, we can tell More- 
 land tliere is somebody else on the 
 island." He then lurticd to Tenfold, 
 and said : " My daughter anil I will 
 keep in the after-part of the vessel, 
 and anybody that likes can leave the 
 ship at Valparaiso. Helen, I know 
 it is wrong ; but what can I do ? — I 
 am so happy. Y'ou are alive and 
 well ; how can I punish or aflilict a hu- 
 man creature to-day ? and, above all, 
 how can I crush this unhappy young 
 man, without whom I should never 
 have seen you again in this world ? 
 My daughter ! my dear lost child!" 
 And he held her at arm's length and 
 gazed at her, and then drew her to his 
 bosom ; and for him Robert Penfold 
 ceased to exist, except as a man tluit 
 had saved his daughter. 
 
 " Papa," said Helen, after a long 
 pause, "just make him tell why he 
 could not trust to me. Why he 
 passed himself off to me for a clergy- 
 man." 
 
 " I am a clergyman," said Robert 
 Penfold. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Helen, shocked to find 
 him so hardened, as she thought. 
 She lifted her hands to heaven, and 
 the tears streamed from her eyes. 
 "Well, sir," said she, faintly, "I see 
 I cannot reach your conscience. One 
 question more and then I have done 
 with you forever. Why in all these 
 nuuiths that we have been alone, and 
 that you have shown me the nature, 
 I don't say of an honest man, but of 
 an angel, — yes, papa, of an angel, — 
 why could you not show me one 
 humble virtue, sincerity 1 It be- 
 longs to a man. Why could yon not 
 say, ' I have committed one crime in 
 my life, but rejjcntcd foievcr ; judge 
 by this confession, and by what you 
 have seen of me, whether I shall ever 
 commit another. Take mc as I am, 
 and esteem me as a penitent and 
 more wortliy man ; but I will not de- 
 ceive you and pass for a paragon ' 
 AYhy could you not say as much as 
 this to me ? If you loved me, why 
 deceive me so cruelly ? "
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 177 
 
 These words, uttered no longer 
 harshly, but in a mournful, faint, de- 
 spairino: voice, produced an ctfect tlie 
 speaker little ex])eeted. Rol)ert Fen- 
 fold made two attempts to speak, but 
 though he opened ids moutii, and his 
 lips quivered, lie could get no word 
 out. He began to choke with emo- 
 tion ; and, though he shed no tears, 
 the convulsion that goes with weeping- 
 in weaker natures overpowered him in 
 a way that was almost terrible. 
 
 " Confound it ! " said General 
 Rolleston, " this is monstrous of you, 
 Helen ; it is barbarous. You are not 
 like your poor mother." 
 
 She was pale and trembling, and 
 the tears flowing ; but she showed her 
 native obstinacy. She said hoarsely : 
 "Papa, you are blind. He must an- 
 swer me. He knows he must ! " 
 
 " I must," said Robert Penfold, 
 gasping still. Then he manned him- 
 self by a mighty effort, and repeated 
 with dignity, " I will." There was 
 a pause while the young man still 
 struggled for composure and self- 
 command. 
 
 " Was I not often on the point of 
 telling you my sad story '? Then is it 
 fair to say that I should never have 
 told it you ? But, O iMiss RoUes- 
 ton, you don't know what agony it 
 may be to an unfortunate man to tell 
 the truth. There are accusations so 
 terrible, so dejl'iinj, that, when a man 
 has proved them false, they still stick 
 to him and soil him. Such an accu- 
 sation I labor under, and a judge and 
 a jury have branded me. If they had 
 called me a murderer, I would have 
 told you ; but that is such a dirty 
 crime. I feared the prejudices of the 
 world. I dreaded to see your face al- 
 ter to me. Yes, I trembled, and hesi- 
 tated, and asked myself whether a 
 man is bound to repeat a foul slander 
 against himself, even when thirteen 
 shallow men have said it, and made 
 the lie law." 
 
 " There," said General Rolleston, 
 " I thought how it would be, Helen ; 
 you have tormented him into defend- 
 12 
 
 ing liimself, tooth and nail ; so now 
 we shall have the old story ; he is in- 
 nocent ; I never knew a convict that 
 was n't, if he found a fool to listen to 
 him. I decline to hear another word. 
 You need n't excuse yourself for 
 changing your name ; I excuse it, 
 and that is enough. But the boat is 
 waiting, and we can't stay to hear you 
 justify a felony." 
 
 " 1 AM NOT A FELON. I AM A 
 MARTYK." 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 Robert Penfold drew himself up 
 to his full height, and uttered these 
 strange words with a sad majesty that 
 was very imposing. But General 
 Rolleston, steeled by experience of 
 convicts, their plausibility, and their 
 histrionic powers, was staggered only 
 for a moment. He deigned no reply ; 
 but told Helen Captain Moreland was 
 waiting for her, and she had better go 
 on board at once. 
 
 She stood like a statue. 
 
 " No, papa, I '11 not turn my back 
 on liim till I know whether he is a fel- 
 on or a martyr." 
 
 " My poor child, has he caught you 
 at once with a clever phrase ■? A 
 judge and a jury have settled that." 
 
 " They settled it as you would set- 
 tle it, by refusing to hear me." 
 
 " Have I rcfificd to hear you ? " 
 said Helen. " What do I care for steam- 
 boats and captains '? If I stay here to 
 all eternity, I '11 know from your own 
 lips and your own face whether you 
 are a felon or a martyr. It is no 
 phrase, papa. He is a felon or a mar- 
 tyr ; and I am a inost unfortunate 
 girl, or else a base, disloyal one." 
 
 " Piddle-dee," said General Rolles- 
 ton, angrily. Then, looking at his 
 watch : " I give you live minutes to 
 humbug us in — if you can." 
 
 Robert Penfold sighed patiently. 
 But from that moment he ignored 
 General Rolleston, and looked to 
 Helen only. And she fixed her eyes 
 upon his face with a tenacity and an
 
 178 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 intensity of observation that surpassed 
 anytliinir he had overseen in his life. 
 It dazzled him ; but it did not dismay 
 him. 
 
 " Miss Rolleston," said he, " my 
 history can lie tuid in the time my 
 prejiulieed judi^e allows me. I am a 
 clergyman, and a private tutor at Ox- 
 ford. One of my ]iupils was — Ar- 
 thur Wardlaw. I took an interest in 
 him because my i'ather, Michael Pen- 
 fold, was in Wardlaw's em])loy. This 
 Arthur Wardlaw had a talent for niim- 
 iciy ; he mimicked one of the collej^e 
 oflieers publicly and ofK'iisively, and 
 •was about to be expelled, and that 
 would have ruined his immediate 
 prospects : for his father is just, but 
 stern. I fouj^ht hard for him, and, 
 l)ein<^ myself ]io])ular with the author- 
 ities, I got him oft'. He was <j;rafeful, 
 or seemed to be, and we became 
 greater friends than ever. We con- 
 fided in each other. He told me he 
 was in debt in Oxford, and much 
 alarmed lest it should reach his 
 father's ears, and lose him the prom- 
 ised ])artnership. I told him I was 
 desirous to buy a small living near 
 Oxford, which was then vacant ; luit 
 I had only saved £ 400, and the price 
 was .£ 1 ,000 ; I had no means of rais- 
 ing the l)alance. Then he said, 'Bor- 
 row .£ 2,000 of my father ; give me 
 fourteen hundred of it, and take your 
 own time to repay the .£ 000. I shall 
 he my father's partner in a month or 
 two,' said he; 'you can pay us back 
 by instalments.' I thought this very 
 kind of him. I did not want the liv- 
 ing for myself, but to give my dear 
 father certaiu comf)rts and country 
 air every week ; he needed it : he was 
 horn in the country. Well, I came to 
 London about this business ; and a 
 stranger called on me, and said he 
 came from Mr. Arthur Wardlaw, who 
 was not well enough to come himself 
 He ])roduced a note of hand for 
 £ 2,000, signed John WardJaw. and 
 made me indorse it, and told me 
 wliere to tret it cashed ; he would come 
 next day for Arthur Wardlaw's share j 
 of the money. Well, I suspected no 1 
 
 ill ; would you ? I went and got the 
 note discounted, and locked the mon- 
 ey up. It was not my money : 
 the greater part was Arthur Ward- 
 law's. That same evening a police- 
 man called, and asked several ques- 
 tions, which of course I answered, 
 lie then got me out of the house on 
 some pretence, and arrested me as a 
 forger." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Helen. 
 
 " I forgot the clergyman ; I was a 
 gentleman, and a man, insulted, and 
 I knocked the officer down directly. 
 But his myrmidons overpowered me. 
 I was tried at the Central Criminal 
 Court on two charges. First, the 
 Crown (as they call the attorney that 
 draws the indictment) charged mo 
 witli forging the note of hand ; and 
 then with not forging it, but jja^sing 
 it, well knowing that somebody else 
 had forged it. AVell, UnderclilY, the 
 Expert, swore positively that the 
 forged note was not written by me; 
 and the Crown, as they call it, was 
 defeated on that charge ; but lieing 
 proved a liar in a court of justice did 
 not abash my accuser ; the second 
 charge was pressed with equal confi- 
 dence. The note, yon are to under- 
 stand, was forged : that admits of no 
 doubt ; and I passed it ; the question 
 was whether I passed it knowing it to 
 be forged. How was that to be de- 
 termined '? And here it was that my 
 own familiar friend, in whom I trust- 
 ed, destroyed me. Of course, as soon 
 as I was j)ut in prison, I wrote and 
 sent to Arthur Wardlaw. Would 
 you believe it ? he would not come to 
 me. He would not even write. Then, 
 as the time drew near, I feared he was 
 a traitor. I treated him like one. I 
 tohl my solicitor to drag him into 
 court as my witness, and make him 
 tell the truth. The cleik went down 
 accordingly, and found he kept Ids 
 door always locked ; but the clerk 
 outwitted him, and served him with 
 the sid)])(ena in his bedroom, bclbre he 
 could crawl under the i)cd. But he 
 liatilecl us at last ; he never a])peared 
 in the witness-box ; and when my
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 179 
 
 counsel asked the court to imprison 
 him, his father swore he could not 
 come : he was dying, and all out of 
 sympathy with mc. Fine sympatliy ! 
 tliat closed the li]5s, and concealed tlic 
 trutli ; one syllable of which would 
 have saved his friend and benefactor 
 from a calamity worse than death. Is 
 the truth poison, that to tell it makes 
 a sick man die? Is the truth hell, 
 that a dyinsj man refuses to speak it ? 
 How can a man die better than speak- 
 ing tiie truth ? How can lie diewor.se 
 than withholding it ? I believe his 
 sickness and his death were lies like 
 himself For want of one word from 
 Arthur Wardlaw to explain that I had 
 every reason to expect a note of hand 
 from him, the jury condemned mc. 
 They were twelve honest bat shallow 
 men — invited to go inside anotiier 
 man's bosom, and guess what was 
 there. Tiiey guessed that I knew and 
 understood a thing which to this hour 
 I neither know nor understand, by 
 God 1 " 
 
 He paused a moment, then re- 
 sumed : — 
 
 "I believe tliey fninded their con- 
 jecture on ray knocking down the offi- 
 cer. There was a reason for you ! 
 Wliy, forgers and tlieir confederates 
 are reptiles, and have no fight in them. 
 Experience proves this. But these 
 twelve men did not go by experience ; 
 they guessed, like bal)ies, and, after 
 much hesitation, condemned me ; but 
 recommended me to mercy. Mercy ! 
 What mercy did I deserve 1 Eitlier I 
 was innocent, or hanging was too 
 good for me. No ; in their he;n-ts 
 they doubted my guilt ; and their 
 doubt took that timid form instead of 
 acquitting mc. I was amazed at the 
 verdiet, and asked leave to tell the 
 judge why Arthur Wardlaw had defied 
 the court, and absented himself as ni}' 
 witness. Had the judge listened for 
 one minute, he would have seen I was 
 innocent. But no. I was in Eng- 
 land where the month of the accused 
 is stopped, if he is fool enough to 
 employ counsel. Tlie judge stopjied 
 my mouth, as your father just now 
 
 tried to stop it ; and they branded 
 me as a felon. 
 
 " Up to that moment my life was 
 honorable and worthy. Since that 
 moment I have never wronged a 
 human creature. Men pass from vir- 
 tue to vice, from vice to crime ; this 
 is the ladder a soul goes down ; but 
 you are invited to believe that I 
 jumped from iimocence into a filthy 
 felony, and then jumped back again 
 none the worse, ami was a gardener 
 that fought for his employer, and a 
 lover that controlled his passion. It 
 is a lie, — a lie that ouiiht not to take 
 in a child. But prejudice degrades a 
 man below the level of a child. I 'II 
 say no more ; my patience is exhaust- 
 ed by wrongs and insults. I am as 
 honest a man as ever breathed ; and 
 the place where we stand is mine, for 
 I made it. Leave it and me this mo- 
 ment. Go to England, and leave me 
 where the animals, more reasonable 
 than you, have the sense to sec my real 
 character. I'll not sail in the same 
 ship with any man, nor any woman. 
 either, who can look me in the face, 
 and take me lor a felon." 
 
 He swelled and cowered with the 
 just wrath of an honest man driven 
 to bay ; and his eye shot black light- 
 ning. He was sublime. 
 
 Heleir cowered ; but her spirited old 
 father turned red, and said, haughtily : 
 " We take you at j-our word, and 
 leave you, you insolent vagabond ! 
 Follow me this instant, Helen ! " 
 
 And he marched out of tlie cavern 
 in a fury. 
 
 But, instead of following liim, 
 Helen stood stock-still, and cowered, 
 and cowered till she seemed sinking- 
 forward to the ground, and she got 
 hold of Robert Penfold's hand, and 
 kisseil it, and moaned over it. 
 
 " Martyr ! Martyr ! " she whispered, 
 and still kissed his hand, like a slave 
 offering her master pity, and asking 
 pardon. 
 
 "i\Iartyr! Martyr! Every word is 
 true, — true as my love." 
 
 In this attitude, and with these 
 words on her lips, they were surprised
 
 180 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 by General Rollcston, wlio came back, 
 astonished at liis daiiLilitcr not follow- 
 ing him. Judge of his amazement 
 now. 
 
 " What doe- this mean ? " he cried, 
 turning ]ja]e with anger. 
 
 " It means that he has spoken the 
 truth, and that I shall imitate him. 
 He is my martyr, and my love. When 
 others cast siuune on you, tiien it is 
 time for me to .-^how my heart. James 
 Seaton, I love you for your madness 
 and your devotion to her whom you 
 had only seen at a distance. Aii ! 
 that was love ! John Hazel, I love 
 you for all that has passed between 
 us. What can any other man be to 
 me? — or woman to you ? But, most 
 of ail, 1 love (/«)(, Robert Penfold, — 
 my hero and my marlyr. Wiien I 
 am told to your face that you arc a 
 felon, then to your face I say you arc 
 my idol, my iiero, and my martyr. 
 Love ! tlie word is too tame, too 
 common. I worship you, I adore 
 you ! How beautiful you are when 
 you are angry ! How noble you are 
 now you foriiive me ! for you do for- 
 give me, Kohert ; yon must, you 
 shall. No ; you will not send your 
 Helen away from you for her one 
 fiiuit so soon lepeiited ! Show me 
 you forgive me ; show me you love 
 me still, almost as much as I love 
 you. He is crying. O my darling, 
 my darling, my darling!" And she 
 "was round his neck in a moment, with 
 tears and tender kisses, the first she 
 luid ever given him. 
 
 Ask yourself whether they were re- 
 turned. 
 
 A groan, or rather, we might say, a 
 snort of fury, interrupted the most 
 blissful moment either of these yount; 
 creatures had ever known. It came 
 from General Kolleston, now white 
 with wratli and horror. 
 
 " You villain ! " he cried. 
 
 Helen threw herself upon him, and 
 put her hand before his month. 
 
 " Not a word more, or I shall for- 
 get I am your daughter. No one is 
 to blame but I. I love him. I nuule 
 him love me. He has been trying 
 
 hard not to love me so much. But I 
 am a woman ; and coidd not deny 
 myself the glory and the joy of bein"' 
 loved better than woman was ever 
 loved before. And so I am ; I am. 
 Kill me, if you like ; insult me, if you 
 will : but not a word against him, or 
 I give him my hand, and we live and 
 die together on this island. O papa ! 
 he has often saved that life you value 
 so ; and I have saved his. He is all 
 the world to me. Have pity on your 
 child. Have pity on him who carries 
 my heart in his bosom." 
 
 She flung herself on her knees, and 
 strained him tight, and implored him, 
 with head thiown back, and little 
 elutehinf; hands, and eloquent eyes. 
 
 All ! it is hard to resist the voice 
 and look and clinging of a man's own 
 flesh and blood. Children are so 
 strong — upon their knees : their dear 
 faces, bright copies of our own, are 
 just the blight of our hearts then. 
 
 The old man was staggered, was 
 almost melted. " Give me a mo- 
 ment to think," said he, in a broken 
 voice. " This blow takes my breath 
 away." 
 
 Helen rose, and laid her head upon 
 her father's shoulder, and still |ilcaded 
 for her love by her soft touch and her 
 tears that now flowed freely. 
 
 He turned to Tenfold with all the 
 dignity of age and station. " Mr. 
 Penfold," said he, with grave polite- 
 ness, "after what my daughter lias 
 said, I must treat you as a man of 
 honor, or I must insult her. Well, 
 then, I expect you to show me you 
 are what she thinks you, and are not 
 what a court of justice has proclaimed 
 you. Sir, this young lady is cn^raged 
 with her own free will lo a gentieman 
 who is universally esteemed, anil has 
 never been accused io his f'dce of any 
 unworthy act. Relying on her })li^dit- 
 ed word, the Wardlaws have fitted out 
 a steamer and searched the I'acifir, and 
 found her. Can you, as a man of hon- 
 or, advise her to stay here and com- 
 promise her own honor in cverv way 1 
 Ought she to break faith with her be-
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 181 
 
 trothcd on account of vajrue accusa- 
 tions made behind liis back? " 
 
 " It was only in self-defence I ac- 
 cused Mr. Arthur Wurdlaw," said 
 Robert Tenfold. 
 
 General Rolle^ton resumed : — 
 
 "You said just now there are ac- 
 cusations which soil a man. If you 
 were in my place, would you let your 
 daughter marry a man of honor, who 
 had unfortunately been found guilty 
 of a felony?" 
 
 Robert groaned and hesitated, but 
 he said, "No." 
 
 " Then what is to be done ? She 
 must either keep her plighted word, or 
 else break it. For whom ? For a gen- 
 tleman she esteems and loves, but can- 
 not marry. A leper may be a saint ; 
 but I would rather bury my child than 
 marry her to a leper. A convict may 
 be a saint ; but I '11 kill her with my 
 o\."n hand sooner than she shall marry 
 a convict : and in your heart and con- 
 science you caimot blame me. Were 
 you a father, j'ou would do the same. 
 What then remains for her and me but 
 to keep faith ? and what can you do 
 better than leave her, and carry away 
 her everlasting esteem and her father's 
 gratitude ? It is no use being good by 
 iialves, or bad by halves. You must 
 cither he a selfish villain, and urge her 
 to abandon all shame, and live here on 
 this island with you forever, or you 
 must be a brave and honest man, and 
 bow to a parting that is inevitable. 
 Consider, sir ; your eloquence and her 
 pity have betrayed this young lady into 
 a confession that separates you. Her 
 enforced residence here with you has 
 been innocent. It would be innocent 
 no longer, now she has been so mad 
 as lo own she loves you. And I tell 
 you frankly, if, after that confession, 
 you insist on going on board the 
 steamer with her, I must take you; 
 humanity requires it ; but, if I do, I 
 sliall hand you over to the law as a 
 convict escaped before his time. Per- 
 haj)S I oujiht to do so as it is ; but that 
 is not certain ; I don't know to what 
 country this island belongs. I may 
 have no right to capture you in 
 
 strange dominions ; but an English 
 ship is En^^land, — and if you set foot 
 on the Springbok you are lost. Now, 
 then, you are a man of honor ; you 
 love my child truly, and not selfishly : 
 — you have behaved nobly until to- 
 day ; go one step further on the right 
 road ; call worldly honor and the God 
 whose vows you have taken, sir, to 
 your aid, and do your duty." 
 
 " O man, man ! " cried Robert Pen- 
 fold, " you ask more of me than flesh 
 and blood can bear. What shall I 
 say? What shall I do? " 
 
 Helen replied, calmly : " Take my 
 hand, and let us die tojrether, since we 
 cannot live together with honor." 
 
 General Rollcston groaned. " For 
 this, then, I have traversed one ocean, 
 and searched another, and found my 
 child. I am nothing to her, — noth- 
 ing. 0, who would l)e a father ! " He 
 sat down oppressed with shame and 
 grief, and bowed his stately head in 
 manly but pathetic silence. 
 
 "0 papa, papa!" cried Helen, 
 " forgive your ungrateful child ! " 
 And she kneeled and sobbed, with her 
 foreliead on his knees. 
 
 Then Robert Penfold, in the midst 
 of his own agony, found room in that 
 great suffering heart of his for pity. 
 He knelt down himself, and prayed for 
 help in this bitter trial. He rose hag- 
 gard with the struggle, but languid 
 and resigned, like one whose death- 
 warrant has becTi read. 
 
 " Sir," said he, " there is but one 
 w\iy. You must take her home ; and 
 I shall stay here." 
 
 " Leave you all alone on this isl- 
 and ! " said Helen " Never ! If 
 vou stay here, I shall stay to comfort 
 ■you." 
 
 " I decline that offer. I am beyond 
 the reach of comfort." 
 
 " Think what you do, Robert," 
 said Helen, with unnatural calmness. 
 " If you have no pity on yourself, 
 have pity on us. Would you rob me 
 of the very life you have taken such 
 pains to save ? My poor father will 
 carry nothing to England but my 
 dead body. Long before we I'each
 
 182 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 that country I loved so well, anrl now 
 hate it fur its stupidity and cnielty to 
 you, my soul will luive Hown iiaek to 
 tiiis ishind to watch over you, Kohert. 
 You bid me to abandon you to soh- 
 tude and despair. Neither of you two 
 love nic half as much as I love you 
 both." 
 
 General Rollcston sio;hed deeply. 
 " If I tliou<:lit that — " said he. Then, 
 in a faint voice, "My own courai^e 
 fails me now. I look into my heart, 
 and I see that my child's life is dearer 
 to me than all the world. She was 
 dyint;, they saj'. Suppose I send 
 ]\Ioreland to tlie Continent for a cler- 
 gyman, and marry you. Then you 
 can live on this island forever. Only 
 you must let me live hero too ; for I 
 could never sliow my face af::ain in 
 Eni^land after acting sodivhonorahly. 
 It will be a miseralile end of a life 
 passed in honor ; hut I suppose it 
 will not be for long. Sliame can kill 
 as (jiiickly as disappointed love." 
 
 " Robert, Robert ! " cried Helen, in 
 agony. 
 
 The martyr saw that he was mas- 
 ter of the situation, and must be either 
 base or very noble, — there was no 
 middle way. lie leaned his head on 
 his hands, and thought with all his 
 might. 
 
 " Hush ! " said Helen : "he is wis- 
 er than we are. Let him speak." 
 
 " If I thought you would pine and 
 die upon the voyage, no power should 
 ])art us. But you arc not such a cow- 
 ard. If my life dej)ended on yours, 
 would you not live ? " 
 
 " You know I would." 
 
 " When I was wrecked on White 
 Walter Island, you played the man. 
 Not one woTuan in a thousand could 
 luive launched a boat, and sailed it 
 with a l)Oat-hook for a mast, and — " 
 
 Helen interrupted him. "It was 
 nothing ; I loved you. I love you 
 better now." 
 
 " I believe it, and therefore I ask 
 you to rise above your sex once more, 
 and play the man for mc. This time 
 it is not my life you arc to rescue, but 
 
 that which is more precious still : my 
 good name." 
 
 " Ah ! that would be worth living 
 for ! " cried Helen. 
 
 " You will tind it very hard to do ; 
 but not harder for a woman than to 
 launch a boat, and sail her without a 
 mast. See my father, Michael Pen- 
 fold. See Undeicliff, the expert. 
 See the solicitor, the counsel. Sift 
 the whole story ; and, above all, find 
 out why Arthur Wardlaw dared not 
 enter the witness-box. Be oijstinate 
 as a man ; be supple as a woman ; and 
 don't talk of dying when there is a 
 friend to be rescued from dishonor by 
 living and woiking." 
 
 " Die ! while I can rescue you from 
 death or di.-honor ! I will not be so 
 base. Ah, Robert, Robert, how well 
 you know me ! " 
 
 " Yes, I do know you, Helen. I 
 believe that great soul of yours will 
 keep your body strong to do this brave 
 work for him you love, and who loves 
 you. And as for me, I am man 
 enough to live for years upon this 
 island, if you will only promise me 
 two things." 
 
 "I promise, then." 
 
 " Never to die, and never to marry 
 Arthur Wardlaw, until you have re- 
 versed that lying sentence which has 
 blasted me. Lay your hand on your 
 father's head, and promise me that." 
 
 Helen laid her hand upon her fa- 
 ther's head, and said: "I ])ledge my 
 honor not to die, if life is jjossible, and 
 never to many any man, iniiil I have 
 reversed that lying sentence which has 
 blasted the angel 1 love." 
 
 " And I pledge myself to help her," 
 said General RoUeston, warmly, " for 
 now I know you arc a man of honor. 
 I have too often been deceived by elo- 
 quence to listen much to that. But 
 now you have proved by your actions 
 what you are. You ])ass a forged 
 check, knowing it to be forged ! I 'd 
 stake my salvation it 's a lie. There 's 
 my hand. God comfort you ! God 
 reward you, my noble fellow ! " 
 
 " I hope he will, sir," sobbed Rob- 
 ert Tenfold. "You are her father; 
 
 J
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 183 
 
 and you take my hand ; perhaps that 
 will be sweet to think of by and by ; 
 but no joy can enter my heart now ; 
 it is broken. Take her away at once, 
 sir. Flesh is weak. My jjowers of 
 endurance are exhausted." 
 
 General Rolleston acted promptly 
 on this advice. He rolled up her rugs, 
 and the things she had made, and 
 Robert had the courage to take them 
 down to the boat. Then he came 
 back, and the General took her bag 
 to the boat. 
 
 All this time the girl herself sat 
 MTinging her hands in anguish, and 
 not a tear. It was beyond that 
 now. 
 
 As he passed Robert, the General 
 said : " Take leave of her alone. I will 
 come for her in five minutes. You 
 see how sure I feel you are a man of 
 honor." 
 
 When Robert went in, she rose and 
 tottered to him, and fell on his neck. 
 She saw it was the death-bed of their 
 love, and she kissed his eyes, and 
 clung to him. They moaned over 
 each other, and clung to each other in 
 mute despair. 
 
 The General came back, and he 
 and Robert took Helen, shivering 
 and fainting, to the boat. As the 
 boat put off, she awoke from her 
 stupor, and put out her hands to 
 Robert with one piercing cry. 
 
 They were parted. 
 
 CHAPTER LIIL 
 
 In that curious compound the 
 human heart, a resjiectable motive is 
 sometimes connected with a criminal 
 act. And it was so with Joseph 
 Wylie : he had formed an attachment 
 to Nancy Rouse, and her price was 
 two thousand pounds. 
 
 This Nancy Rouse was a charac- 
 ter. She was General Rolleston's 
 servant for many years ; her place 
 was the kitchen : but she was a wo- 
 man of such restless activity, and so 
 wanting in the proper pride of a 
 
 servant, that she would help a house- 
 maid, or a lady's maid, or do any- 
 thing almost, except be idle : to use 
 her own words, she was one as 
 could n't abide to sit mumchance. 
 That fatal ibe to domestic industry, 
 the London Journal, Huttered in 
 vain down her area, for she could 
 not read. She supported a sick 
 mother out of her wages, aided by a 
 few presents of money and clothes 
 from Helen Rolleston, who had a 
 great regard for Nancy, and knew 
 what a hard fight she had to keep a 
 sick woman out of her twenty pounds 
 a year. 
 
 In love, Nancy was unfortunate; 
 her buxom looks and sterling virtues 
 were balanced by a provoking saga- 
 city, and an irritating habit of speak- 
 ing her mind. She humbled her 
 lovers' vanity, one after another, and 
 they fled. Her heart smarted more 
 than once. 
 
 Nancy was ambitious ; and her 
 first rise in life took place as follows : 
 When the RoUestons went to Aus- 
 tralia, slie haJ a good cry at parting 
 with Helen ; but there was no help 
 for it : she coulJ not leave her moth- 
 er. However, she told Helen she 
 could not stomach any other service, 
 and, since she must be parted, was 
 resolved to better herself. This 
 phrase is sometimes dioUy applied by 
 servants, because they throw Inde- 
 pendence into the scale. In Nancy's 
 case it meant setting up as a washer- 
 woman. Helen opened her hazel 
 eyes with astonishment at this, the 
 first round in the ladder of Nancy's 
 ambition ; however, she gave her ten 
 pounds, and thirty introductions, 
 twenty-five of which missed fire, and 
 witli the odd five Nancy set up her 
 tub in the suburbs, and by her in- 
 dustry, geniality, and frugality, got 
 on tolerably well. In due course she 
 rented a small iiouse backed by a 
 small green, and advertised for a 
 gentleman lodger. She soon got 
 one ; and soon got rid of him. 
 However, she was never long without 
 one.
 
 184 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Nancy met Joseph Wylie in com- 
 pany : and, as sailors arc bri^k woo- 
 ers, lie soitn became her ackuuwl- 
 edj^ed suitor, and made some inroad 
 into lier heart, though slie kept on 
 the defensive, warned by past ex- 
 perience. 
 
 Wyhc's love-making liad a droll 
 feature about it, it was most of it 
 carried on in the presence of tliree 
 washerwomen, l)ecause Naney had no 
 time to spare from her work, and 
 Wylie had no time to lose in his 
 wooing, being on shore for a limited 
 period. And this absence of super- 
 fluous delicacy on his part gave iiim 
 an unfair advantage over the tallow- 
 chandler's foreman, his only riv.il at 
 present. iMany a sly tiirust, and 
 many a hearty laugh, from his fe- 
 male auditors, greeted his amorous 
 eloquence: but, for all that, tliey 
 sided with him, and Nancy felt her 
 im])ortanee, and brightened along 
 with her mates at the sailor's ap- 
 proach, whicii was generally an- 
 nounced by a cheerful hail. He was 
 good company, to use Nancy's own 
 phrase, and she accepted him as a 
 sweetheart on probation. But, when 
 Mr. Wylie urged her to marry hi in, 
 she demurred, and gave a stt"ing of 
 reasons, all of whieh the sailor and 
 his allies, the subordinate wash- 
 erwomen, comh.ated in full conclave. 
 
 Then she spoke out : " My lad, the 
 wash-tub is a saddle as won't carry 
 doul>le. I 've seen poverty enough in 
 my mother's house, it sha' n't come 
 in at my door to drive love out »' 
 window. Two comes tot:ether with 
 just enough for two ; next year in- 
 stead of two they arc three, and one 
 of the three can't work and wants a 
 servant extra, and by and by there is 
 half a dozen, and the money coming 
 in at the s))igot and going out at the 
 bungliole." 
 
 One day, in the middle of his 
 wooing, she laid down her iron, and 
 said : " You come along with me. 
 And I wonder how much work will 
 be done whilst my back is turneil, for 
 you three gabbling and wondering 
 
 what ever I 'm a going to do with 
 this here sailor." 
 
 She took Wylie a few yards down 
 the street, anil showed him a large 
 house with most of the windows 
 broken. " There," said she, " there 's 
 a sight for a seafaring man. That's 
 in (^lianeery." 
 
 " Well, it 's better to be there than 
 
 in II ," said Wylie, meaning to 
 
 be sharper. 
 
 " Wait till you 've tried 'em both," 
 said Nancy. 
 
 Then she took him to the back of 
 the house, and showed him a large 
 garden attaehed to it. 
 
 "Now, Joseph," said she, "I've 
 showed you a lodging-house and a 
 drying-ground ; and I 'm a cook 
 and a clearstarcher, and I 'm wild 
 to keep lodgers and do for 'em, 
 washing and all. Tlien, if their 
 foul linen goes out, they follows it : 
 the same if they has their meat 
 from the cook-shop. Four hundred 
 pounds a year lies there a waiting for 
 me. I've been at them often to let 
 me them premises : but they says no, 
 we have got no border from the court 
 to let. Which the court would rather 
 see 'em go to rack an' ruin for noth- 
 ing, than let 'em to an honest wo- 
 man as would pay the rent punctual, 
 and make her [lenny out of 'em, and 
 nohoily none the worse. And to sell 
 them, the price is two thousand 
 l>ounds, and if I had it I 'd give it 
 this ininit : but where arc the likes of 
 you and me to get two thousaml 
 l)ounds ? But the lawyer he says, 
 ' Miss Rouse, from jion one thousand 
 down, and the rest on murtgige at 
 £ 4.5 the year,' which it is dirt cheap, 
 I say. So now, my man, when that 
 house is mine, I 'm yours. I 'm i>ut- 
 ting by for it o' my side. If you 
 means all you say, why not save a bit 
 o' yours ? Once I get that hou-se and 
 garden, you need n't go to sea no 
 more : nor you sha' n't. If I am to 
 be bothered with a man, let me know 
 where to put my finjrer on him at all 
 hours, and not lie shivering and shak- 
 ing at every window as crealvs, aud
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 185 
 
 him out at sea. And if you are too 
 proud to drive the linen in a light 
 cart, why, I could pay a man." In 
 short, she told him plainly she would 
 not marry till she was above the 
 world ; anil the road to above t!ic 
 world was throu<;h that great battefed 
 iiouse and seed}' garden in Chancery. 
 
 Now it may appear a strange coin- 
 cidence that Nancy's price to Wylie 
 was two thousand pounds, and Wy- 
 lie's to Wardlaw was two thousand 
 pounds : but the fact is it was a forced 
 coincidence. Wylie, bargaining with 
 Wardlaw, stood out for two thousand 
 pounds, because that was the price 
 of the house and garden and Nancy. 
 
 Now, when Wylie returned to Eng- 
 land safe after his crime and his per- 
 ils, he comforted himself with the re- 
 flection that Nancy would have her 
 house and garden, and he should have 
 Nancy. 
 
 But young Wardlaw lay on his sick- 
 bed ; his father was about to return 
 to the office, and the gold di-^guised 
 as copper was ordered up to the cel- 
 hirs in Fcnclnirch Street. There, in 
 all probability, the contents would be 
 examined erelong, the fraud exposed, 
 and other unpleasant consequences 
 might follow over and above the loss 
 of the promised £2,000. 
 
 Wylie felt very disconsolate, and 
 went down to Nancy Rouse depressed 
 in spirits. To his surprise siie re- 
 ceived him with more affection than 
 ever, and, rending his face in a mo- 
 ment, told him not to fret. 
 
 " It will be so in your way of life," 
 said this homely comforter ; " your 
 sort comes home empty-handed one 
 day, and money in both pockets the 
 next. I 'm glad to see you home at 
 all, for I 've been in care about you. 
 You 're very welcome, Joe. If you 
 are come home honest and sober, whv, 
 th.it is the next best thing to coming 
 home rich." 
 
 Wylie hung his head and pondered 
 these words; and well he might, for 
 he had not come home either so sober 
 or so honest as he went out, but quite 
 as poor. 
 
 However, his clastic spirits soon 
 revived in Nancy's sunshine, and he 
 became more in love with her than 
 ever. 
 
 But when, presuming upon her af- 
 fection, he urged her to marry him 
 and trust to Providence, she laughed 
 in his face. 
 
 " Trust to himprovidence, you 
 mean," said she; "no, no, Joseph. 
 If you are unlucky, I must be lucky, 
 before you and me can come to- 
 gether." 
 
 Then Wylie resolved to have his 
 £ 2,000 at all risks. He had one great 
 advantage over a landsman who has 
 committed a crime. He could always 
 go to sea and find employment, first 
 in one ship, and then in another. 
 Terra firma was not one of the neces- 
 saries of life to him. 
 
 He came to Wardlaw's office to feel 
 his way, and talked guardedly to Mi- 
 chael Penfold about the loss of the 
 Proserpine. His apparent object was 
 to give information ; his real object 
 was to gather it. He learned that old 
 Wardlaw was very much occupied 
 with fitting out a steamer; that the 
 forty chests of copper had actually 
 come up from the Shannon and were 
 under their feet at thnt moment, and 
 that young Wardlaw was desperately 
 ill and never came to the office. Mi- 
 chael had not at that time learned the 
 true cause of young Wardlaw's ill- 
 ness. Yet Wylie detected rhat young 
 Wardlaw's continued absence from 
 the office gave Michael singular un- 
 easiness. The old man fidgeted, and 
 washed the air with his hands, and 
 with simple cunning urged Wylie to 
 go and see him about the Pioserpine, 
 and get him to the office, if it was 
 only for an hour or two. " Tell him 
 we are all at sixes and sevens, Mr. 
 Wylie ; all at sixes and sevens." 
 
 " Well," said Wylie, affecting a de- 
 sire to oblige, " give me a line to him ; 
 for I 've been twice, and could never 
 get in." 
 
 Michael wrote an earnest line to say 
 that Wardlaw senior had been hither- 
 to much occupied in fitting out the
 
 186 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Springbok, but that he was going into 
 the hooks next week. What was to 
 be dune ? 
 
 The note was received ; but Arthur 
 declined to see the bearer. Then 
 Wyhe told the servant it was Joseph 
 Wylie, on a matter of life and death. 
 " Tell him I must stand at the stair- 
 foot and hallo it out, if he won't hear 
 it anv other way." 
 
 This threat 'obtained his admis- 
 sion to Arthur Wardlaw. The sailor 
 found him on a sofa, in a darkened 
 room, pale and worn to a shadow. 
 
 " Mr. Wardlaw," said Wylie, firm- 
 ly, "you mustn't think I don't feel 
 for you ; but, sir, we arc gone too far 
 to b'top, you and me. There is two 
 sides to this business; it is £150,000 
 for you, and £2,000 for me, or it 
 is — " " What do I care for money 
 now?" groaned Wardlaw. "Let it 
 all go to the Devil, who tempted me 
 to destroy her I loved better than 
 money, better than all the world." 
 " Weil, but hear me out," said Wylie. 
 "I say it is £150,000 to you and 
 £2,000 to mc, or else it is twenty 
 years' penal servitude to both on 
 us." 
 
 " Penal servitude ! " And the words 
 roused the merchant from his lethargy 
 like a shower-bath. 
 
 " You know that well enough," 
 said Wylie. " Why, 't was a hang- 
 ing matter a few years ago. Come, 
 come, there arc no two ways ; you 
 must be a man, or we are undone." 
 
 Fear prevailed in that timorous 
 breast, which even love of money had 
 failed to rouse. Wardlaw sat up, 
 staring wildly, and asked Wylie what 
 he was to do. 
 
 " First, let me ring for a bottle of 
 that old brandy of yours." 
 
 Tiie brandy was got. Wylie in- 
 duced him to drink a wineglassful 
 neat, and then to sit at the table and 
 examine the sailors' declaration and 
 tlie logs. " I 'm no great .scholard," 
 said he. " 1 warn't a going to lay 
 these l)cfore the underwriters till you 
 had overiiauled them. There, take 
 another drop now, — 'twill do you 
 
 good, — while I draw up this thun- 
 dering blind." 
 
 Thus encouraged and urged, the 
 broken-hearted schemer languidly 
 compared the seamen's declaration 
 with the logs ; and, even in his feeble 
 state ofmuid and body, made an awk- 
 ward discovery at once. 
 
 " Why, they don't correspond ! " 
 said he. 
 
 " What don't correspond ? " 
 " Your men's statement and the 
 ship's log. The men speak of one 
 heavy gale after another, in January, 
 and the pumps going ; but the log 
 says, ' A puff of wind from the N. E.' 
 And here, again, the entry exposes 
 your exaggeration : one branch of 
 our evidence contradicts tlie other ; 
 this comes of trying to prove too 
 much. You must say the log was 
 lost, went down with the ship." 
 
 " How can I ? " cried Wylie. " I 
 have told too many I had got it safe 
 at home." 
 
 "Why did you say thati What 
 madness ! " 
 
 " Why were you away from your 
 office at such a" time 1 How can I 
 know everything and do everything'? 
 I counted on you for the head-work 
 ashore. Can't ye think of any way 
 to square the log to that part of our 
 tale? might paste in a leaf. or two, 
 eh?" 
 
 " That would be discovered at once. 
 Y'ou have committed an irremedia- 
 ble error. What broad strokes this 
 Hudson makes. He must have writ- 
 ten with the stump of a quill." 
 
 Wylie received tiiis last observa- 
 tion with a look of contempt for the 
 mind that could jnit so trivial a ques- 
 tion in so great an emergency. 
 
 " Are you quite sure poor Hud- 
 son is dead ? " asked Wardlaw, in a 
 low voice. 
 
 " Dead ! Don't I tell you I saw 
 liim die ! " said AYylie, trembling all 
 of a sudden. 
 
 He took a glass of brandy, and 
 sent it Hying down his tluoat. 
 
 " Leave the jjaper with me," said 
 Arthur, languidly, aud tell PenfolU
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 187 
 
 I '11 crawl to the office to-morrow. 
 You can meet me there ; I sliall see 
 nobody else." 
 
 Wyiie called next day at the office, 
 and was received by Penfold, who 
 had now learned the cause of Arthur's 
 grief, and ushered the visitor in to 
 him with looks of benevolent concern. 
 Arthur was seated like a lunatic, pale 
 and motionless ; on the table before 
 him was a roast fowl and a salad, 
 which he had forgotten to eat. His 
 mind appeared to alternate between 
 love and fraud ; for, as soon as he 
 saw Wylie, he gave himself a sort of 
 shake, and handed Wylie the log and 
 the papers. 
 
 " Examine them ; they agree bet- 
 ter with each other now." 
 
 Wylie examined the log, and started 
 with surprise and superstitious terror. 
 " Why, Hiram's ghost has been here 
 at work ! " said he. " It is his very 
 handwriting." 
 
 " Hush ! " said Wardlaw ; " not so 
 loud. Will it do ? " 
 
 " The writing will do first-rate ; 
 but any one can see this log has never 
 been to sea." 
 
 Inspired by the other's ingenuity, 
 he then, after a moment's reflection, 
 emptied the salt-cellur into a plate, 
 and poured a little water over it. He 
 wetted the leaves of the log with this 
 salt water, and dog's-eared the whole 
 book. 
 
 Wardlaw sighed. " See what ex- 
 pedients we are driven to," said he. 
 He then took a little soot from the 
 chimney, and mixed it with salad oil. 
 He applied some of this mixture to 
 the parchment cover, rubbed it oflp, 
 and by such manipulation gave it a 
 certain mellow look, as if it had been 
 used by working hands. 
 
 Wylie was armed with these mate- 
 rials, and furnished with money, to 
 keep his sailors to their tale, in case 
 of their being examined. 
 
 Arthur begged, in his present affiic- 
 tion, to be excused from going per- 
 sonally into the matter of the Proser- 
 pine ; and said that Penfold had the 
 ship's log, and the declaration of the 
 
 survivors, which the insurers could 
 inspect, previously to tTieir being de- 
 posited at Lloyd's. 
 
 The whole thing wore an excellent 
 face, and nobody found a peg to hang 
 suspicion on so far. 
 
 After this preliminary, and the de- 
 posit of the papers, nothing was hur- 
 ried ; the merchant, absorbed in his 
 grief, seemed to be forgetting to ask 
 for his money. Wylie remonstrated ; 
 but Arthur convinced him they were 
 still on too ticklish ground to show 
 any hurry without exciting suspi- 
 cion. 
 
 And so passed two weary months, 
 during which Wylie fell out of Xancy 
 Rouse's good graces, for idling about 
 doing nothing. 
 
 " Be you a waiting for the plum to 
 fall into your mouth, young man? " 
 said she. 
 
 The demand was made on the 
 underwriters, and Arthur contrived 
 that it should come from his fatlier. 
 The firm was of excellent repute, and 
 had paid hundreds of insurances, 
 witliout a loss to the underwriters. 
 The Proserpine had foundered at sea; 
 several lives had been lost, and of the 
 survivors one had since died, owing 
 to the hardsliips he had endured. All 
 this betokened a genuine calamity. 
 Nevertheless, one ray of suspicion 
 rested on the case, at first. The cap- 
 tain of the Proserpine had lost a great 
 many ships ; and, on the first an- 
 nouncement, one or two were resolved 
 to sift the matter on that ground 
 alone. But when five eye-witnesses, 
 suppressing all mention of the word 
 " drink," declared that Captain Hud- 
 son had refused to leave the vessel, 
 and described his going down with 
 the ship, from an obstinate and too 
 exalted sense of duty, every chink 
 was closed ; and, to cut the matter 
 short, the insurance monev was paid 
 to the last shilling, and Benson, one 
 of the small underwriters, ruined. 
 Nancy Rouse, who worked for Mrs. 
 Benson, lost eighteen shillings and 
 sixpence, and was dreadfully put out 
 about it.
 
 188 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 "Wylie heard her lamentations, and 
 grinned; for now liis £2,000 was as 
 good as in his ])ocket, ho tliouglit. 
 Great was liis con.'-tfrnation wlien Ar- 
 thur told liini that every shiUing of 
 tile money was forestalled, and tliat 
 the entire profit of tlie transaction 
 was yet to eoine, viz. by the sale of 
 tiie gold dust. 
 
 " Then sell it," said Wylie. 
 
 "I dare not. The affair must cool 
 down before I can apjjcar as a seller 
 of gold ; and even then 1 must dribble 
 it out with great caution. Thatdc 
 Heaven, it is no longer in those cel- 
 lars." 
 
 " Where is it, then ? " 
 
 " That is my secret. You will get 
 your two thousand all in good time; 
 and, if it makes you one tenth part as 
 wretched as it has made me, you will 
 thank me for all these delays." 
 
 At last Wylie lost all pa"tience, and 
 began to show his teeth ; and then 
 Arthur Wardlaw paid him his two 
 thousand pounds in forty crisp notes. 
 
 He crammed them into a side pock- 
 et, and went do\vn triumphant to 
 Nancy Rouse. Throuj^di her parlor 
 window he saw the benign counte- 
 nance of Michael Penfbld'. He then 
 remembered that Tenfold had told 
 him some time before that he Avas go- 
 ing to lodge ;vith her as soon as the 
 present lodger should go. 
 
 This, however, rather interrupted 
 Wylie's design of walking in and 
 chucking the two thousand pounds 
 into Nancy's lap. On the contrary, 
 he shoved them deeper down in his 
 pocket, and re-<()lvc<l to see the old 
 gentleman to bed, and then produce 
 his pelf, and fix tlie wedding-day with 
 Nancy. 
 
 He came in and found her crying, 
 and Penfold making weak efforts to 
 console her. The tea-things were on 
 the table, and Nancy's cup half emp- 
 tied. 
 
 Wylie came in, and said, " Why, 
 what is the matter now '( " 
 
 He said this miyhty cheerfully, as 
 one who carried the panacea for all 
 ills in his pocket, and a medicine pe- 1 
 
 culiarly suited to Nancy Rouse's con- 
 stitution. But he had not quite fath- 
 omed her yet. 
 
 As soon as ever she saw him she 
 wiped her eyes, and asked him, grim- 
 ly, what he wanted there. Wylie 
 stared at the reception ; init reidicd 
 stoutly, that it was pretty \vell known 
 by this time what he wanted in that 
 quarter. 
 
 " Well, then," said Nancy, "Want 
 will be your master. Why did you 
 never tell me Miss Helen "was in that 
 ship? my sweet, dear mistress as was, 
 that I feel for like a mother. You 
 left her to drown, and saved your own 
 great useless carcass, and drow-ned 
 she is, poor dear. Get out o' my 
 sight, do." 
 
 " It was n't my fault, Nancy," said 
 Wylie, earnestly. "I didn't know' 
 who she was, and I advised her to 
 come with us ; but she would go with 
 that parson chap." 
 
 '• What parson chap ? What a 
 liar you be ! She is Wardlaw's sweet- 
 heart, and don't care for no parsons. 
 If you did n't know you was to blame, 
 why did n't you tell me a word of 
 your own accord ? You kep' dark. 
 Do you call yourself a man, to leave 
 mv poor young lady to shift for her- 
 self '^ ■' 
 
 " She had as good a chance to live 
 as I had," said Wyhe, sullenly. 
 
 " No, she had n't'; you took care o' 
 yourself. Well, since you are so fond 
 of yourself, keep yourself to yourself, 
 and don't come ln-re no more. After 
 this, I hate the sight on ye. You are 
 like the black dog in. my eyes, and 
 always will be. Poor, dear Miss 
 Helen ! Ah, I cried when she left, — 
 my mind misgave me; but little I 
 thotiulit she would perish in the salt 
 seas, and all for want of a man in the 
 ship. If you had gone out a^iain after 
 in the steamboat, — Mr. Penlold have 
 told me all abotit it, — I'd believe 
 you weren't so much to Idame. But 
 no; lolloping and looking about all 
 day for mouths. Tliere 's my door, 
 Joe Wylie; I can't cry cominrtuble 
 before you as had a baud iu drowu-
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 189 
 
 ing of Iier. You and me is parted 
 forever. I'll die as I am, or I'll 
 marry a man ; which you ain't one, 
 nor notliiiig like one. Is he waitiiiy; 
 for you to hold the door open, i\Ir. 
 Penfold ? or don't I speak plain 
 enough ? Them as I gave the saek 
 to afore you did n't want so much 
 telling." 
 
 " Well, I 'm going," said Wylie, 
 sullenly ; then, with considerable feel- 
 ing, " This is hard lines." 
 
 But Nancy was inexorable, and 
 turned him out, with the £2,000 in 
 his pocket. 
 
 He took the notes out of his pocket, 
 and fliyjg them furiously down in the 
 dirt. 
 
 Then ho did wliat everybody does 
 under similar circumstances, he picked 
 tliL'ni up again, and pocketed them, 
 along with the other dirt they had 
 gathered. 
 
 Next day he went down to the 
 docks, and looked out for a ship ; he 
 soon got one, and signed as second 
 mate. She was to sail in a fort- 
 night. 
 
 But, before a week was out, the 
 bank-notes had told so upon liim, that 
 he was no lonirer frame to so to sea. 
 But the captain he had signed witli 
 was a Tartar, and not to be trifled 
 with. He consulted a knowing friend, 
 and that friend advised him to dis- 
 guise himself till the ship had sailed. 
 Accordingly he rigged himself out 
 with a long coat, and a beard, and 
 spectacles, and hid his sea-slouch as 
 well as he could, and changed his 
 lodgings. Finding he succeeded so 
 well, he thought he might as well 
 have the pleasure of looking at Nancy 
 Kouse, if he could not talk to her. 
 So he actually had the hardihood to 
 take the parlor next door ; and by 
 this means he heard her move about 
 in her room, and caught a sight of 
 her at work on her little green ; and 
 he was shrewd enough to observe she 
 did not sing and whistle as she used 
 to do. The dog chuckled at that. 
 
 His bank-notes worried him night 
 and day. He was afraid to put them 
 
 in a bank ; afraid to take them about 
 with him into his haunts ; afraid to 
 leave them at home ; and out of this 
 his perplexity arose some incidents 
 worth relating in their proper order. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw returned to busi- 
 ness ; but he was a changed man. 
 All zest in the thing was gone. His 
 fraud set him above the world ; and 
 that was now enough for him, in 
 whom ambition was dead, and, in- 
 deed, nothing left alive in him but 
 deep regrets. 
 
 He drew in the horns of specula- 
 tion, and went on in the old safe 
 routine ; and to the restless activity 
 that had jeopardized the rtrm succeed- 
 ed a strange torpidity. He wore 
 black for Helen, and sorrowed with- 
 out hope. He felt he had offended 
 Heaven, and had met his punishment 
 in Helen's death. Wardlaw senior 
 retired to Elm-trees, and seldom 
 saw his son. When they did meet, 
 the old man sometimes wiiispered 
 hope, but the whisper was faint and 
 unheeded. 
 
 One day Wardlaw senior came up 
 express, to communicate to Arthin- a 
 letter from General Rolleston, written 
 at Valparaiso. In this letter, General 
 Rolleston deplored his unsuccessful 
 search : but said he was going west- 
 ward, upon the report of a Dutch 
 whaler, who had seen an island re- 
 flected in the sky, while sailing be- 
 tween Juan Fernandez and Norfolk 
 Isle. 
 
 Arthur only shook his head with a 
 ghastly smile. " She is in heaven," 
 said he, " and I shall never see her 
 again, not here or hereafter." 
 
 Wardlaw senior was shocked at this 
 speech ; but he made no reply. Ho 
 pitied his son too much to criticise the 
 expressions into which his bitter grief 
 betrayed him. He was old, and had 
 seen the triumphs of time over all 
 things human, sorrow included. 
 These, however, as 3'et, had done 
 nothing for Arthur Wardlaw. At the 
 end of six months, his grief was as
 
 190 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 sombre and as deadly as the first 
 week. 
 
 But one day, as this pale figure in 
 deep mourning sat at his table, going 
 listlessly and mechanically through 
 the business of scraping money to- 
 gether for others to enjoy, whose 
 hearts, unlike his, might not be in the 
 grave, his father burst in upon him, 
 with a telegram in his hand, and 
 waved it over his head in triumph. 
 " She is found ! she is found ! " he 
 roared : " read that ! " and thrust the 
 telegram into his hands. 
 
 'J'hose hands trembled, and the lan- 
 guid voice rose into shrieks of aston- 
 ishment and delight, as Arthur read 
 the words, " We have got her, alive 
 and well : shall be at Charing Cross 
 Hotel, 8 p. M." 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 Whilst the boat was going to the 
 Springbok, General Rolleston whis- 
 pered to Captain IMorehuid ; and 
 what he said may be almost guessed 
 from what occurred on board the 
 steamer soon afterwards. Helen was 
 carried treml)ling to the cabin, and tbe 
 order was given to heave the anchor 
 and get under way. A groan of dis- 
 appointment ran through the ship; 
 Captain Moreland expressed the Gen- 
 eral's regret to the men, and divided 
 £ 200 upon the capstan ; and the groan 
 ended in a cheer. 
 
 As for Helen's condition, that was 
 at first mistaken for ill health. She 
 buried lierself for two whole days in 
 her cabin ; and from that jilace faint 
 moans were heard now and then. The 
 sailors called her the sick lady. 
 
 Heaven knows what she went 
 through in that forty-eight hours. 
 
 She came upon deck at last in a 
 strange state of mind and body : rest- 
 less, strung up, absorbed. The rare 
 vigor she luid acquired on the island 
 came out now with a vengeance. She 
 walked the deck with briskness, and a 
 pertinacity that awakened admiration 
 
 in the crew at first, but by and by su- 
 perstitious awe. For, while the untir- 
 ing feet went briskly to and fro over 
 leagues and leagues of plank every 
 day, the great hazel eyes were turned 
 inwards, and the mind, absorbed with' 
 one idea, skimmed the men and things 
 about her listlessly. 
 
 She had a mission to fulfil, and her 
 whole nature was stringing itself up 
 to do tlie work. 
 
 She walked so many miles a day, 
 partly from excitement, j)artly with a 
 deliberate resolve to cherish lier health 
 and strength; "I may want theni 
 both," said she, " to clear Robert Pen- 
 fold." Tlioiight and high purpose 
 shone through her so, that after a 
 wiiile nobody dared trouble her much 
 with commonplaces. To her father, 
 she was always sweet and filial, but 
 sadly cold compared witli what she 
 had always been hitherto. He was 
 taking her body to England, but her 
 heart stayed behind upon that island : 
 he saw this, and said it. 
 
 " Forgive me," said she, coldly ; 
 and that was all her reply. 
 
 Sometimes she had violent passions 
 of weeping; and then he would en- 
 deavor to console her ; but in vain. 
 They ran their course, and were suc- 
 ceeded by the bodily activity and 
 concentration of jjurpose they had in- 
 terrupted for a little while. 
 
 At last, after a rapid voyage, they 
 drew near the English coast ; and 
 then General Rolleston, who had 
 hitherto spared her feelings, and been 
 most indulgent and considerate, felt it 
 was high time to come to an under- 
 standing with iier as to the course 
 they should both pursue. 
 
 " Now Helen," said he, " about the 
 Wardlaws ! " 
 
 Helen gave a slight shudder. But 
 she said, after a slight hesitation, 
 " Let me know your wishes." 
 
 " 0, mine are, not to be too un- 
 grateful to the father, and not to de- 
 ceive the son." 
 
 " I will not be ungrateful to the 
 father, nor deceive the son," said 
 Helen, firmly.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 191 
 
 The General kissed her on the 
 brow, and called her his brave girl. 
 " But," said he, " on the other hand, 
 it must not be published that you 
 have been for eight months on an 
 island alone with a convict. Any- 
 thing sooner than that. You know 
 the malice of your own sex; if one 
 woman gets hold of that, you will be 
 an outcast from society." 
 
 Helen blushed and trembled. " No- 
 body need be told that but Arthur ; 
 and I am sure he loves me well enough 
 not to injure mo with the world." 
 
 " But he would be justified in de- 
 clining your hand, after such a revela- 
 tion." 
 
 " Quite. And I hope he will de- 
 cline it when he knows I love another, 
 however hopelessly." 
 
 " You are going to tell Arthur 
 Wardlaw all that 1 " 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " Then all I can say is, you are not 
 like other women." 
 
 " I have been brought up by a 
 man." 
 
 " If I was Arthur Wardlaw, it 
 would be the last word you»should 
 ever speak to me." 
 
 " If you were Arthur Wardlaw, I 
 should l)e on that dear island now." 
 
 " Well, suppose his love should be 
 greater than his spirit, and — " 
 
 " If he does not go back when he 
 hears of my hopeless love, I don't see 
 how I can. I shall marry him: and 
 try with all my soul to love him. I '11 
 open every door in London to Robert 
 Penfold ; except one ; my husband's. 
 And that door, while I live, he shall 
 never enter. my heart ; my 
 heart 1 " She burst out sobbing des- 
 perately : and her father laid her head 
 upon his bosom, and sighed deeply, 
 and asked himself how all this would 
 end. 
 
 Before the)' landed, her fortitude 
 seemed to return ; and of her own 
 accord she begged her father to tele- 
 graph to the Wardlaws. 
 
 " Would you not like a day to 
 compose yourself, and prepare for this 
 trying interview 1 " said he. 
 
 " I should : but it is mere weak- 
 ness. And 1 must cure myself of 
 my weakness, or I shall never clear 
 Robert Penfold. And then, papa, I 
 think of you. If old Mr. Wardlaw 
 heard you had been a day in town, 
 you might sutier in his good opinion. 
 We shall be in London at seven. Ask 
 them at eight. That will be one 
 hour's respite. God heljj me, and 
 strengthen poor Arthur to bear the 
 blow I bring him ! " 
 
 Long before eight o'clock that day, 
 Arthur Wardlaw had passed from a 
 state of sombre misery and remorse 
 to one of joy, exultation, and unmixed 
 happiness. He no longer regretted 
 his crime, nor the loss of the Proser- 
 pine : Helen was alive and well, and 
 attributed not her danger, but oirly 
 her preservation, to the Wardlaws. 
 
 Wardlaw senior kept his carriage in 
 town, and precisely at eight o'clock 
 they drove up to the door of the 
 hotel. 
 
 They followed the servant with 
 bounding hearts, and rushed into the 
 room where the General and Helen 
 stood ready to receive them. Old 
 Wardlaw went to the General with 
 both hands out, and so the General 
 met him, and between these two it 
 was almost an embrace. Arthur ran 
 to Helen with cries of joy and admira- 
 tion, and kissed her hands again and 
 again, and shed such genuine tears of 
 joy over them that she trembled all 
 over, and was obliged to sit down. 
 He kneeled at her feet, and still im- 
 prisoned one hand, and mumbled it, 
 while she turned her head away and 
 held her other hand before her face to 
 hide its real expression, which was a 
 mixture of pity and repugnance. But, 
 as her face was hidden, and her elo- 
 quent body quivered, and her hand 
 was not withdrawn, it seemed a sweet 
 picture of feminine affection to those 
 who h;vl not the key. 
 
 At last she was relieved from a 
 most embarrassing situation by old 
 Wardlaw ; he cried out on this monop- 
 oly, and Helen instantly darted out 
 of her chair, and went to him, and put
 
 192 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 up her check to'him, which he kissed ; 
 and then she thiuiked him warmly for 
 his couia)j:c in not despairing of her 
 life, and his goodness in sending out 
 a ship for lier. 
 
 Now, the fact is, she conld not feci 
 gratefnl ; hut siie knew slie ouglit to 
 be grateful, and siie was ashamed to 
 show no feeling at all in return for so 
 much ; so she was eloquent, and the 
 old gentleman was initurally very 
 much pleased at first ; hut he caught 
 an expression of pain on Arthur's 
 face, and then he stopped her. " My 
 dear," said he, "you ought to thank 
 Arthur, not me ; it is his love for you 
 which was the cause of my zeal. If 
 jou owe me anytiiing, pay it to him, 
 for he deserves it best. He nearly 
 died for you, my sweet girl. No, no, 
 you must n 't hang your head for 
 that, neither. What a fool I am to 
 revive old sorrows ! Here we aie, the 
 happiest four in England." Then he 
 whispered to her, " Be kind to poor 
 Arthur, tiuit is all I ask. His very 
 life dcfiends on you." 
 
 Helen obeyed this order, and went 
 slowly back to Artiiur ; she sat, cold 
 as ice, on the sofa beside him, and he 
 made love to her. She scarcely heard 
 what lie said; she was asking herself 
 how she could end tliis intolerable in- 
 terview, and escape her father's looks, 
 who knew the real state of her heart. 
 
 At last she rose, and went and 
 whis|)ered to him : " My courage has 
 failed me. Have pit^^on me, and get me 
 away. It is the old man ; he kills me." 
 General Rolleston took the hint, and 
 acted vvith more tact than one would 
 have given him credit for. He got up 
 and rang the bell for tea : then he 
 said to Helen, " You don't drink tea 
 now, and I see you are excited more 
 than is good for you. You had better 
 go to bed." 
 
 " Yes, papa," said Helen. 
 She took her candle, and, as she 
 passed young Wardlaw, she told him, 
 in a low voice, she would be glad to 
 speak to him alone to-morrow. 
 
 " At what hour ? " said he, eagerly. 
 " When you like. At one." 
 
 And so she retired, leaving him in 
 ecstasies. This was the first down- 
 right assignation she had ever made 
 with him. 
 
 They met at one o'clock ; he radiant 
 as the .^un, and a rose in his button- 
 hole ; she sad and sombre, and with 
 her very skin twitching at the thought 
 of the explanation she had to go 
 through. 
 
 He began with amorous common- 
 places ; she stoi>ped him, gravely. 
 " Arthur," ^aid she, " you and I are 
 ahine now, and I have a confession to 
 make. Unforiunately, I must cause 
 you pain, — terrible pain. O, my heart 
 flinches at the wound I am going to 
 give you ; hut it is my fate either to 
 wound you or to deceive you." 
 
 Duritig this preamble,'Arthur sat 
 amazed, rather than alarmed. He did 
 not interrupt iicr, though she paused, 
 and would gladly have been inter- 
 rupted, since an interruption is an as- 
 sistance in perplexities. 
 
 " Arthur, we suH'cred great hard- 
 ships on the boat, and you would have 
 lost m« but for one per,-on. He saved 
 my lite again and again ; I saved his 
 upon the island. My constancy was 
 subject to trials, — 0, such trials ! 
 So great an example of every manly 
 virtue forever before my eyes ! My 
 gratitude and my pity eteinally plead- 
 ing ! England and you seemed gone 
 forever. l\Iake excuses for me if you 
 can. Arthur — I — I have formed 
 an attachment." 
 
 In making this strange avowal she 
 hung her head and blushed, and the 
 tears ran down her clucks. But we 
 susj)ect they ran for Itim, and not for 
 Arthur. 
 
 Arthur turned deadly sick at this 
 tremendous blow, dealt with so soft a 
 hand. At last he gasped out, " If you 
 marry him, you will bury me." 
 
 " No, Arthur," said Helen, gently; 
 "I cm\h\ not niiirrv him, even if you 
 were to permit inc. When you know 
 more, you will see that, of us three un- 
 hapjiy ones, you are the least unhap- 
 py. But, since this is so, am I wrong
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 193 
 
 to tell you the truth, and leave you to 
 decide whether our engagement ought 
 to continue 1 Of course, what I have 
 owned to you releases you." 
 
 " Eeleases me ! but it does not un- 
 bind my heart from yours," cried 
 Arthur, in despair. 
 
 Then his hysterical nature came 
 out, and he was so near fainting away 
 that Helen sprinkled water on his 
 temples, and applied eau-de-cologne 
 to his nostrils, and murmured, " Poor, 
 poor Arthur ! O, was I bora only to 
 afflict those I esteem "? " 
 
 He saw her with the tears of pity 
 in her eyes, and he caught her hand, 
 and said, " You were always the soul 
 of honor ; keep faith with me, and I 
 will cure you of that unhappy attach- 
 ment." 
 
 " What ! Do you hold me to my en- 
 gagement after what I have told you 1 " 
 
 " Cruel Helen ! you know I have 
 not the power to hold you." 
 
 " I am not cruel ; and you have the 
 power. But 0, think ! For your 
 own sake, not mine." 
 
 " I have thought ; and this attach- 
 ment to a man you cannot marry is a 
 mere misfortune, — yours as well as 
 mine. Give me your esteem until 
 your love comes back, and let our en- 
 gagement continue." 
 
 " It was for you to decide," said 
 Helen, coldly, "and you have decided. 
 There is one condition I must ask 
 you to submit to." 
 
 "I submit to it." 
 
 " What, before you hear it ? " 
 
 " Helen, you don't know what a 
 year of misery I have endured, ever 
 since the report came of your death. 
 My happiness is cruelly dashed now, 
 but still it is great happiness by 
 comparison. Make your conditions. 
 You are my queen, as well as my love 
 and my lil'e." 
 
 Helen hesitated. It shocked her 
 delicacy to lower the man she had con- 
 sented to marr}^. 
 
 " Helen," said Arthur, " any- 
 thing but secrets between you and me. 
 Go on as you have begun, and let me 
 know the worst at once." 
 13 
 
 " Can you be very generous, Ar- 
 thur 1 — generous to him who has 
 caused you so much pain i " 
 
 " 1 '11 try," said Arthur, with a 
 groan. 
 
 " I would not marry him, unless you 
 gave me up : for I am your betrothed, 
 and you are true to me. I could not 
 marry him, even if I were not pledged 
 to you ; but it so happens, I can do 
 him one great service without injustice 
 to you ; and this service I have vowed 
 to do before I marry. I shall keep that 
 vow, as I keep faith with you. He 
 has been driven from society by a foul 
 slander ; that slander 1 am to sift and 
 confute. It will be long and difficult ; 
 but I shall do it; and you could help 
 me if you chose. But that I will not 
 be so cruel as to ask." 
 
 Arthur bit his lip with jealous rage ; 
 but he was naturally cunning, and his 
 cunning showed him there was at 
 present but one road to Helen's heart. 
 He quelled his torture as well as he 
 could, and resolved to take that road. 
 He reflected a moment, and then he 
 said, — 
 
 " If you succeed in that, will you 
 marry me next day ? " 
 
 " 1 will, upon mv honor." 
 
 " Then I will he'lp you." 
 
 " Arthur, think what you say. 
 Women have loved as unselfishly as 
 this ; but no man, that ever I heard 
 of." 
 
 " No man ever did love a woman as 
 I love you. Yes, I would rather help 
 you, though with a sore heart, than 
 hold aloof from you. What have we 
 to do together ? " 
 
 " Did I not tell you ? — to clear his 
 character of a foul stigma, and restore 
 him to England, and to the world 
 which he is so fitted to adorn." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Arthur ; " but 
 who is it 1 Why do I ask, though 1 
 He must be a stranger to me." 
 
 " No stranger at all," said Helen ; 
 " but one wlio is almost as unjust to 
 you as the world has been to him " ; 
 then, fixing her eyes full on him, she 
 said, " Arthur, it is your old friend 
 and tutor, Robert Penfold."
 
 194 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEK LV. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaav was thunder- 
 struck ; and for some time sat stupid- 
 ly staring at licr. And to this blank 
 gaze succeeded a look of abject terror, 
 Avhich seemed to her stran;;e and be- 
 yond the occasion. But this was not 
 all ; for, after "glaring at her with 
 scared eyes and asliy cliecks a moment 
 or two, he got up and literally stag- 
 gered out of the room witiiout a word. 
 
 lie had been taken by surprise, and, 
 for once, all his arts had failed him. 
 
 Helen, whose eyes had never left 
 his face, and had followed his retiring 
 figure, was iVightened at the weight 
 of the blow siie liad struck ; and 
 strange thoughts and conjectures 
 filled her mind. Hitherto, she had 
 felt sure Robert Tenfold was under a 
 delusion as to Arthur Wardlaw, and 
 that his suspicions were as unjust as 
 tiicy certainly were vague. Yet now, 
 at the name of Robert Tenfold, Ar- 
 thur turned pale, and fled like a guilty 
 tiling. This was a coincidence that 
 conlirmed her good opinion of Kobert 
 Tenfold, and gave her ugly thoughts 
 of Arthur. Still, she was one very 
 slow to condemn a friend, and too 
 generous and candid to condemn on 
 suspicion ; so she resolved as fiir as 
 possible to suspend her unfavorable 
 judgment of Arthur, until she should 
 have asked him why this great emo- 
 tion, and heard his reply. 
 
 Moreover, she was no female de- 
 tective, hut a pure creature bent on 
 clearing innocence. The object of 
 her life was, not to discover tlie faults 
 of Arthur Wardlaw, or any other per- 
 son, but to clear Robert Tenfold of a 
 crime. Yet Arthur's strange be- 
 havior was a great shock to her; for 
 liere, at the very outset, he had some- 
 how made her feel she must hope for 
 no assistance from him. She sigiied 
 at this check, and asked herself to 
 whom slic should apply first for aid. 
 Robert had told her to sec his coun- 
 sel, his solicitor, his father, and ^Ir. ! 
 Underclilf, an expert, and to sift the 
 whule matter. 
 
 Not knowing exactly where to he- 
 gin, she thougbt she would, after all, 
 wait a day or two to give Arthur 
 time to recover himself, and decide 
 calmly whether he would co-operate 
 with her or not. 
 
 In this trying interval, she set up a 
 diary, — for the first time in her life ; 
 for she was no egotist : and she noted 
 down wliat we have just related, only 
 in a very condensed form, and wrote 
 at the margin : Mi/stermis. 
 
 Arthur never came near her for 
 two whole days. This looked grave. 
 On the third day she said to General 
 Rollcston : — 
 
 " Tapa, you will help me in the 
 good cause, — will you not ? " 
 
 He replied that he would do what 
 he could, but feared that would be 
 little. 
 
 " AVill you take me down to Elm- 
 trees, this morning''" 
 
 " With all my heart." 
 
 He took her down to Elm-trccs. 
 On the way she said : " Tapa, you 
 must let me get a word with Mr. 
 Wardlaw alone." 
 
 " O, certainly. But, of course, 
 you will not say a word to -hurt his 
 i'eelinijfs." 
 
 " 6 papa ! " 
 
 " Excuse me : liut, when a person ' 
 of your age is absorbed with one idea, 
 she sometimes forgets that other peo- 
 ple have any feelings at all." ' 
 
 Helen kissed him meekly, and said 
 that was too true ; and she would be 
 upon her guard. 
 
 To Gcneial Rolleston's surprise, 
 his daughter no sooner saw old Ward- 
 law than she went — or seemed to go 
 — into high spirits, and was infinitely 
 agreeable. 
 
 But at last she got him all to her- 
 self, and then she turned suddenly 
 grave, and said : — 
 
 " Mr. Wardlaw, I want to ask you 
 a question. It is something about 
 Rol)ert Tenfold." 
 
 Wardlaw shook his head. "That 
 is a ])ainfiil subject, my dear. But 
 what do you wish to know about that 
 unhaj)py young nuui ? "
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 195 
 
 " Can you tell me the name of the 
 counsel who defended liim at the 
 trial ? " 
 
 " No, indeed, I cannot." 
 
 " But perhaps you can tell mc where 
 I could learn that." 
 
 "His father is in our office still; 
 no doubt he could tell you." 
 
 Now, for obvious reasons, Helen 
 did not like to go to the office ; so 
 she asked faintly if there was nobody 
 else who could tell her. 
 
 " I suppose the solicitor could." 
 
 " But I don't know who was the 
 solicitor," said Helen, with a sigh. 
 
 " Hum ! " said the merchant. " Try 
 the bill-broker. I '11 give you his 
 address " ; and he wrote it down for 
 her. 
 
 Helen did not like to be too import- 
 unate, and she could not bear to let 
 Wardlaw senior know she loved any- 
 body better than his son; and yet 
 some explanation was necessary : so 
 she told him, as calmly as she could, 
 that her father and herself were both 
 well acquainted with Robert Penfold, 
 and knew many things to his credit. 
 
 " I am glad to hear tliat," said 
 "Wardlaw ; " and I can believe it. He 
 bore an excellent character here, till, 
 in an evil hour, a strong temptation 
 came, and he fell." 
 
 " What ! You think he was guil- 
 ty?" 
 
 " I do. Arthur, I believe, has his 
 doubts still. But ho is naturally prej- 
 udiced in his friend's favor : and, be- 
 sides, he was not at tiie trial ; I was." 
 ■ " Thank you, Mr. Wardlaw," said 
 Helen, coldly; and witiiin five min- 
 utes she was on iier way home. 
 
 " Arthur prejudiced in Robert Pen- 
 fold's favor ! " That puzzled her ex- 
 tremely. 
 
 She put down the whole conversa- 
 tion while her memory was fresh. She 
 added this comment : " What dark- 
 ness I am groping in ! " 
 
 Next day she went to the bill-bro- 
 ker, and told him Mr. Wardlaw senior 
 had referred her to him for certain 
 information. Wardlaw's name was 
 evidently a passport. Mr. Adams 
 
 said obsequiously, " Anything in tho 
 world I can do, madam." 
 
 " It is about jNlr. Robert Penfold. 
 I wish to know the name of the coun- 
 sel he had at his trial." 
 
 " Robert Penfold ! "What, the 
 forgei- ? " 
 
 " He was accused of that crime," 
 said Helen, turning red. 
 
 " Accused, madam ! He was con- 
 victed. I ought to know ; for it was 
 my partner he tried the game on. But 
 I was too sharp for him. I had him 
 arrested before ho had time to melt 
 the notes ; indicted him, and sent him 
 across the herring pond, in spite of his 
 parson's coat, tlie rascal ! " 
 
 Helen drew back as if a serpent 
 had stung her. 
 
 " It was you who had him trans- 
 ported ! " cried she, turning her eyes 
 on him with horror. 
 
 " Of course it was me," said Mr. 
 Adams, tiring up ; " atid I did the 
 country good service. I look upon a 
 forger as worse than a murderer. 
 What is the matter? You are ill." 
 
 Tho poor girl was half fainting at 
 the sight of the man who iiad de- 
 stroyed her Robert, and owned it. 
 
 " No, no," she cried, hastily; "let 
 me get away, — let me get away from 
 here, — you cruel, cruel man ! " 
 
 She tottered to tlie door, and got to 
 her carriage, she scarcely knew how, 
 without the information she went for. 
 
 The bill-broker was no fool ; he saw 
 now how the land lay ; lie followed 
 her down the stairs, and tried to stam- 
 mer excuses. 
 
 " Charing Cross Hotel," said she, 
 faintly, and laid her face against the 
 cushion to avoid the sight of him. 
 
 When she got home, she cried bit- 
 terly at her feminine weakness and 
 her incapacity ; and she entered this 
 pitiable failure in her journal with a 
 severity our male readers will hardly, 
 we think, be disposed to imitate; and 
 she added, by way of comment : " Is 
 this how I carry out my poor Robert's 
 precept : Be obstinate as a man ; be 
 supple as a woman 1 " 
 
 That night she consulted her father
 
 196 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 on this difficulty, so slight to any but 
 an incx])crlcnccd girl. lie told her 
 there must Ijc a report of tlic trial in 
 the newspapers, and the report would 
 probably mention the counsel ; she 
 had butter consult a tile. 
 
 Then the thing was where to find 
 a file. After one or two failures, 
 the British Museum was suggested. 
 She went thither, and could not get 
 in to read without certain formalities. 
 While these were being complied 
 with, she was at a stand-still. 
 
 That same evening came a line 
 from Arthur Wardlaw : — 
 
 " Dearest Helejj : — I hear from 
 Mr. Adams that you desire to know 
 the name of the counsel who defended 
 Robert Penfold. It was Mr. Tolle- 
 mache. He has chambers in Lin- 
 coln's Inn. 
 
 " Ever devotedly yours, 
 "Aetiiuk Wardlaw." 
 
 Helen was touched with this let- 
 ter, and put it away indorsed with 
 a few words of gratitude and es- 
 teem ; and copied it into her diary, 
 and remarked : " This is one more 
 warning not to judge hastily. Ar- 
 thur's agitation was probably only 
 great emotion at the sudden mention 
 of one whose innocence he believes, 
 and whose sad fate distresses him." 
 She wrote back and thanked him 
 sweetly, and in terms that encouraged 
 a visit. Next day she went to Mr. 
 ToUemache. A seedy man followed 
 her at a distance. Mr. Tollemachc 
 was not at bis chambers, nor expected 
 till four o'clock. He was in court. 
 She left her card, and wrote on it in 
 pencil tiiat she would call at four. 
 
 She went at ten minutes after four. 
 Mr. ToUemache declined through his 
 clerk to see her if slie was a client ; 
 he could only be approached by her 
 solicitor. She felt inclined to go 
 away and cry ; but this time she re- 
 membered she was to be obstinate as 
 a man and supple as a woman. She 
 wrote on a card : " I am not a client 
 of Mr. ToUemache, but a lady deeply 
 interested in obtaining sonic infurma- 
 
 tion, which Mr. Tollemachc can with 
 perfect iiropriety give mc. I trust 
 to his courtesy as a gentleman not to 
 refuse me a short interview." 
 
 " Admit the lady," said a sharp 
 little voice. 
 
 Slie was ushered in, and found Mr. 
 ToUemache standing before the fire. 
 
 " Now, madam, what can I do for 
 you ? " 
 
 " Some years ago you defended Mr. 
 Robert Penfold ; he was accused of 
 forgery." 
 
 " O, was he ? I think I remember 
 something about it. A banker's clerk, 
 — was n't he 7 " ' 
 
 " no, sir. A clergyman." 
 
 "A clergyman? 1 remember it 
 perfectly, lie was convicted." 
 
 " Do you think he was guilty, 
 sir ? " 
 
 " There was a strong case against 
 him." 
 
 " I wish to sift that case." 
 
 " Indeed. And you want to go 
 through the papers." 
 
 " What pajicrs, sir ? " 
 
 " The brief for the defence." 
 
 " Yes," said Helen, boldly, "would 
 you trust me w iih that, sir ? O, if 
 you knew how deeply I am interest- 
 ed ! " Tiie tears were in lier lovely 
 eyes. 
 
 " The brief has gone back to the 
 solicitor, of course. 1 dare say he 
 will let you read it upon a proper rep- 
 resentation." 
 
 " Thank you, sir. Will you tell 
 me who is the solicitor, and where he 
 lives ? " 
 
 " O, I can't remember who was the 
 solicitor. That is the very first thing 
 you ought to have ascertained. It 
 was no use coming to me." 
 
 " Forgive mc for troiii)ling you, 
 sir," said Helen, with a deep sigh. 
 
 " Not at all, ma<lam ; 1 am only 
 sorry I caifnot be of more service. 
 Butdo let mc advise you to employ 
 your solicitor to make these prelimi- 
 nary inquiries. Happy to consult 
 with him, and reopen the matter, 
 should he di-;cover any fresh evi- 
 dence." He bowed her out, and sat
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 197 
 
 down to a brief while she was yet in 
 sight. 
 
 She turned away heart-sick. The 
 advice she had received was good ; but 
 she shrank from baring her heart to 
 her father's solicitor. 
 
 Slie sat disconsolate awhile, then 
 ordered another cab, and drove to 
 Wardlaw's office. It was late, and 
 Arthur was gone home ; so, indeed, 
 was everybody, except one young 
 subordinate, who was putting up the 
 shutters. " Sir," said she, " can you 
 tell me where old Mr. Tenfold lives ? " 
 
 " Somewhere in the subbubs, 
 miss." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but where ■? " 
 
 " I think it is out Pimlico way." 
 
 " Could you not give me the 
 street ? I would beg you to accept a 
 present if you could." 
 
 This sharpened the young gentle- 
 man's wits ; he went in, and groped 
 here and there till he found the ad- 
 dress, and gave it her : No. 3, 
 Fairfield Cottages, Primi-ose Lane, 
 Pimlico. Slie gave him a sovereign, 
 to his infinite surprise and delight, 
 and told the cabman to drive to the 
 hotel. 
 
 The next moment the man who 
 had followed her was chatting fa- 
 miliarly with the subordinate, and 
 helping him to put up the shutters. 
 
 " I say, Dick," said the youngster, 
 " Penfolds is up in the market ; a 
 duchess was here just now, and gave 
 me a sov. to tell her where he lived. 
 Wait a moment till I spit on it for 
 luck." 
 
 The agent, however, did not wait 
 to witness that interesting ceremony. 
 He went back to his hansom round 
 the corner, and drove at once to Ar- 
 thur Wardlaw's house with the infor- 
 mation. 
 
 Helen noted down Michael Pen- 
 fold's address in her diary, and would 
 have gone to him tliat evening, but 
 she was to dine tete-a-tete with her 
 father. 
 
 Next day she went down to 3 
 Fairfield Cottages at half past four. 
 On the way her heart palpitated, for 
 
 this was a very important interview. 
 Here at least she might hope to find 
 some clew, by following out which 
 she would sooner or later establish 
 Robert's innocence. But then came 
 a fearful thought : " Why had not his 
 father done this already, if it was 
 possible to do it ? His father must 
 love him. His father must have heard 
 his own story, and tested it in every 
 way. Yet his father remained the 
 servant of a firm, the senior partner 
 of which had told her to her face 
 Robert was guilty." 
 
 It was a strange and terrible 
 enigma. Yet she clung to the belief 
 that some new light would come to 
 her from Michael Penfold. Then 
 came bashful fears. " How should 
 she account to Mr. Penfold for the 
 interest she took in his own son, she 
 who was affianced to Mr. Penfold's 
 employer." Slie arrived at 3 Fair- 
 field Cottages with her cheeks burn- 
 ing, and repeating to herself : " Now 
 is the time to be supple as a woman 
 but obstinate as a man." 
 
 She sent the cabman in to inquire 
 for Mr. Penfold ; a sharp girl of about 
 thirteen came out to her, and told her 
 Mr. Penfold was not at home. 
 
 " Can you tell me when he will be 
 at home 1 " 
 
 " No, miss. He have gone to 
 Scotland. A telegraphum came 
 from Wardlaws' last night, as he was 
 to go to Scotland first thing this 
 morning ; and he went at six 
 o'clock." 
 
 " O dear ! How unfortunate ! " 
 
 " Who shall I say called, miss ? " 
 
 " Thank you, I will write. What 
 time did the telegram come ? " 
 
 " Between five and six last evening, 
 miss." 
 
 She returned to the hotel. Fate 
 seemed to be against her. Baffled at 
 the very threshold ! • At the hotel she 
 found Arthur Wardlaw's card and a 
 beautiful bouquet. 
 
 She sat down directly, and wrote 
 to him affectionately, and asked him 
 in the postscript if he could send her 
 a report of the triaL She received a
 
 198 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 reply directly, that he had inquired 
 in tlie ofhcc, Vur one of the clerks had 
 reports of it ; hut this clerk was un- 
 fortunately out, and had locked up his 
 desk. 
 
 Helen sighed. Her feet seemed to 
 be clogged at every step in this in- 
 quiry. 
 
 Next morning, however, a large en- 
 velope came for her, and a Mr. Hand 
 wrote to her thus : — 
 
 " Madam : — 
 
 " Having hcen requested by Mr. 
 Arthur Wardlaw to send you my ex- 
 tracts of a trial, the Queen v. Pen- 
 fold, I herewith forward the same, 
 and would feel obliged by your re- 
 tm'ning them at your convenience. 
 " Your obedient servant, 
 
 " James Hand." 
 
 Helen took the enclosed extracts to 
 her bedroom, and there read them 
 both over many times. 
 
 In both these reports the case for the 
 Crown was neat, clear, cogent, straight- 
 forward, and supported by evidence. 
 The defence was chiefly argument of 
 counsel to prove the improbability of 
 a clergyman and a man of good 
 character passing a forged note. One 
 of the reports stated that Mr. Artliur 
 Wardlaw, a son of the principal 
 witness, had taken the accusation so 
 much to heart that he was now 
 dangerously ill at Oxford. The other 
 report did not contain this, but, on 
 the other hand, it stated that the pris- 
 oner, after conviction, had endeavored 
 to lay the blame on Mr. Arthur 
 Wardlaw, but that the juilge had 
 stopjjcd him, and said he could only 
 aggravate his.oirence by endeavoring 
 to cast a slur uj)t)n the Wardlaws, 
 who had both shown a manifest desire 
 to shield him, but were powerless for 
 want of evidence. 
 
 In both reports the summing up of 
 the judge was moderate in expression, 
 but leaned against the prisoner on 
 every point, and corrected the sophis- 
 tical reasoning of Ins counsel very 
 sensibly. Both reports said an ex- 
 
 pert was called for the prisoner, whoso 
 ingenuity made the court smile, but 
 did not counterbalance the evidence. 
 Helen sat cold as ice with the extracts 
 in her hand. 
 
 Not that her sublime faith was sha- 
 ken, but that poor Robert appeared to 
 have been so calmly and lairly dealt 
 with by everybody. Even ^Mr. Hen- 
 nessy, the counsel for the Crown, had 
 opened the case with humane regret, 
 and conhned himself to facts, and said 
 nobody would be more pleased than 
 he would, if this evidence could ho 
 contradicted, or explained in a man- 
 ner consistent with the prisoner's in- 
 nocence. 
 
 W^hat a stone she had undertaken 
 to roll — up what a hill ! 
 
 W^hat was to be her next step? Go 
 to the Museum, which was now open to 
 her, and read more reports ? She 
 shrank from that. 
 
 " The newspapers are all against 
 him," said she ; " and I don't want to 
 be told he is guilty, when I know he 
 is innocent." 
 
 She now re-examined the extracts 
 with a view to names, and found the 
 only names mentioned were those of 
 thecounsel. The expert's name was 
 not given in either. However, she 
 knew that from Robert. She resolved 
 to speak to ]Mr. Hennessy first, and 
 try and get at the defendant's solicitor 
 through him. 
 
 She found him out by the Law 
 Directory, and called at a few minutes 
 past four. 
 
 Hennessy was almost the opposite 
 to ToUem'ache. He was about the 
 size of a gentleman's wardrobe ; and, 
 like most enormous men, good-na- 
 tured. He received her, saw witii his 
 practised eye that she was no common 
 person, and, after a slight hesitation 
 on professional grounds, heard her 
 request. He sent for his note-book, 
 found the case in one moment, re- 
 mastered it in another, and told her 
 the solicitor for the Crown in that 
 case was Freshfield. 
 
 "Now," said he, "you want to 
 know who was the defendant's solici-
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 199 
 
 tor? Jenkins, a stamped envelope. 
 Write your name and address on 
 that." 
 
 While she was doing it, he scratclied 
 a line to Mr. Freshrield, asking him 
 to send the required information to 
 the enclosed address. 
 
 She thanlced Mr. Hennessy with 
 the tears in her eyes. 
 
 "I dare not ask you whether you 
 think him guilty," she said. 
 
 Hennessy shook his head with an 
 air of good-natured rebuke. 
 
 " You must not cross-examine 
 counsel," said he : " but, if it will be 
 any comfort to you, 1 '11 say this 
 much, there was just a shadow of 
 doubt, and Tollemache certainly let a 
 chance slip. If I had defended your 
 friend, I would have insisted on a 
 postponement of the trial until this 
 Arthur Wardlaw" (looking at his 
 note-book) " could be examined, 
 either in court or otherwise, if lie 
 was really dying. Is he dead, do you 
 know 1 " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "I thought not. Sick witnesses 
 are often at death's door ; but I never 
 knew one pass the threshold. Ha ! 
 ha ! The trial ought to have been 
 postponed till he got well. If a judge 
 refused me a postponement in such a 
 case, I would make him so odious to 
 the jury, that the prisoner would get 
 a verdict in spite of ids teeth." 
 
 " Then you think he was badly de- 
 fended ? " 
 
 "No; that is saying a great deal 
 more than I could justify. But there 
 are counsel who trust too much to 
 their powers of reasoning, and under- 
 rate a chink in the evidence pro or 
 con. Practice, and a few back-falls, 
 cure them of that. 
 
 Mr. Hennessy uttered this general 
 observaiion with a certain change of 
 tone, which showed he thought he 
 had said as much or more than his 
 visitor had any right to expect from 
 him ; and she therefore left him, re- 
 peating her thanks. She went home, 
 pondering on every word he had said, 
 and entered it all in her journal, with 
 
 the remark : "How strange ! the first 
 doubt of Robert's guilt comes to me 
 from the lawyer who caused him 
 to be found guilty. He calls it the 
 shadow of a doubt." 
 
 That very evening, Mr. Frcshfield 
 had the courtesy to send her by mes- 
 senger the name and address of the 
 solicitor who had defended Robert 
 Penfold, Lovejoy and James, Lin- 
 coln's Inn Fields. She called on them, 
 and sent in her card. She was kept 
 waiting a long time in the outer office, 
 and felt ashamed, and sick at heart, 
 seated among yourg clerks. At last 
 she was admitted, and told Mr. Love- 
 joy she and her lather. General Rol- 
 leston were much interested in a late 
 client of his, Mr. Robert Penfold ; 
 and would he be kind enough to let 
 her see the brief for the defence ■? 
 
 " Are you a relation of the Pen- 
 folds, madam 1 " 
 
 " No, sir," said Helen, blushing. 
 
 " Humph ! " said Lovejoy. 
 
 He touched a hand-beU. A clerk 
 appeared. 
 
 "Ask Mr. Upton to come to me." 
 
 Mr. Upton, the managing clerk, 
 came in due course, and Mr. Lovejoy 
 asked him : — 
 
 " Who instructed us in the Queen 
 V. Penfold 1 " 
 
 "It was Mr. Michael Penfold, 
 sir." 
 
 Mr. Lovejoy then told Helen that 
 she must just get a lino from Mr. 
 Michael Penfold, and then the papers 
 should be submitted to her. 
 
 " Yes; but, sir," said Helen, "Mr. 
 Penfold is in Scotland." 
 
 " Well, but you can write to him." 
 
 "No; I don't know in what part 
 of Scotland he is." 
 
 " Then you are not very intimate 
 with him ?'" 
 
 "No, sir; my acquaintance is with 
 Mr. Robert Penfold." 
 
 " Have you a line from him ? " 
 
 "I have no written authority from 
 him; but will you not take my word 
 that I act by his desire ? " 
 
 " My dear madam," said the law- 
 yer, " we go by rule. There are cer-
 
 200 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 tain forms to be observed in these 
 things. I am sure your own good 
 sense will tell you itwould be cruel 
 and improper of me to submit those 
 pa])ers without an order from Robert 
 or xMic'hacl IVnfold. Pray consider 
 this as a delay, not a refusal." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Helen; "but I 
 meet with nothing but delays, and 
 my heart is breaking under them." 
 
 The sohcitor looked sorry, but 
 would not act irregularly. Sli'e went 
 home sighing, and condemned to wait 
 the return of IMiehael Tenfold. 
 
 The cab door was opened for her 
 by a seedy man she fancied she had 
 seen before. 
 
 Baffled thus, and crippled in every 
 movement she made, however slight, 
 in favor of Kol)ert Tenfold, she was 
 seduced on the other hand into all the 
 innocent pleasures of the town. Her 
 adventure had transpired somehow or 
 other, and all General Rolleston's 
 acquaintances hunted him up; and 
 both father and daughter were courted 
 by people of ton as lions. A ship- 
 wrecked beauty is not offered to so- 
 ciety every day. Even her own sex 
 raved about her, and about the chain 
 of beautiful pearls she had picked up 
 somehow on licr desolate island. She 
 always wore them ; they linked her to 
 that sacred purpose she seemed to be 
 forgetting. Her fiither drew her with 
 him into the vortex, hiding from her 
 that he embarked in it jjrincipally for 
 her sake, and she went down the cur- 
 rent with him out of filial duty. Thus 
 unfathomalde difficulties thrust her 
 back from her up-hill task : and the 
 worki, with soft but powerful hand, 
 drew her away to it. Arthur brought 
 her a choice bouquet, or sent her a 
 choice bouquet, every evening, but 
 otherwise did not intrude much upon 
 her; and though she was sure he 
 would assist her, if she asked him, 
 gratitude and delicacy forl)ade her 
 to call liim again to her assistance. 
 She ]jrcfcrred to await the retm-n of 
 INIicliael Tenfold. She had written to 
 Jiim at the office to tell him she had 
 news of his son, and begged him to 
 
 give her instant notice of his return 
 from Scotland. 
 
 Day after day passed, and he did 
 not write to iicr. She began to chafe, 
 and then to pine. Her father saw' 
 and came to a conclusion that her 
 marriage with Arthur ought to be 
 hastened. He resolved to act quietly 
 but firmly towards that end. 
 
 CHAPTER LVL 
 
 Up to this time Helen's sex, and its 
 attributes, had been a great disadvan- 
 tage to her. She had been stopped 
 on the very threshold of lier inquiry 
 by petty difficulties which a man 
 would have soon surmounted. But 
 one fine day the scale gave a little 
 turn, and she made a little discovery, 
 thanks to her sex. Women, whether 
 it is that they are born to be followed, 
 or are accustomed to l)e followed, 
 seem to have eyes in tlic backs of 
 their heads, and instinct to divine 
 when somebody is after them. Tliis 
 inexperienced girl, who had missed 
 seeing many things our readers have 
 seen, observed in merely passing her 
 winclow a seedy man in the court-yard 
 of the hotel. "Would you believe it, 
 she instantly recognized the man who 
 had opened "her cab door for her in Lin- 
 coln's Inn Fields. Quick as lightning 
 it passed through her mind, " Why do 
 I see the same figure at Lincoln's Inn 
 Fields and at Charing Cross ? " At 
 various intervals she passed the win- 
 dow ; and twice she saw the man 
 again. She pondered, and determined 
 to try a little experiment. Robert 
 Tenfold, it may be remembered, had 
 mentioned an expert as one of the 
 persons she was to see. She had 
 looked for his name in the Directory; 
 but experts Avere not down in the 
 book. Another fatality ! But at last 
 she had found Undercliff, a lithog- 
 rapher, and she fancied that must be 
 the same person. She did not hope 
 to learn much from him; the news- 
 paj^ers said his evidence had caused
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 201 
 
 a smile. She had a distinct object in 
 visiting him, the nature of which will 
 appear. She ordered a cab, and 
 dressed herself. She came down, 
 and entered the cab ; but, instead of 
 telling the man where to drive, she 
 gave him a slip of paper, contain- 
 ing the address of the lithographer. 
 " Drive there," said she, a little mys- 
 teriously. The cabman winked, sus- 
 pecting an intrigue, and went off to 
 the place. There she learned Mr. 
 UnderclifFhad moved to Frith Street, 
 Soho, number not known. She told 
 the cabman to drive slowly up and 
 down the street, but could not find 
 the name. At last she observed some 
 lithographs in a window. She let the 
 cabman go all down the street, then 
 stopped him, and paid him off. She 
 had no sooner done this than she 
 walked very briskly back, and entered 
 the little shop, and inquired for Mr. 
 Undercliff. He was out, and not ex- 
 pected back for an hour. "I will 
 wait," said Helen ; and she sat down 
 with her head upon her white hand. 
 A seedy man passed the window rap- 
 idly with a busy air : and, if his eye 
 shot a glance into the shop, it was so 
 slight and careless nobody could sus- 
 pect he was a spy and had done his 
 work effectually as he flashed by. In 
 that moment the young lady, through 
 the chink of her fingers, which she 
 had opened for that purpose, not only 
 recognized the man, but noticed his 
 face, his hat, his waistcoat, his dirty 
 linen, and the pin in his neck-tie. 
 
 " Ah ! " said she, and flushed to 
 the brow. 
 
 She lifted up her head and became 
 conscious of a formidable old woman, 
 who was standing behind the counter 
 at a side door, eying her with the 
 severest scrutiny. This old woman 
 was tall and thin, and had a fine face, 
 the lower part of which was feminine 
 enough ; but the forehead and brows 
 were alarming. Though her hair was 
 silvery, the brows were black and 
 shaggy, and the forehead was divided 
 by a vertical furrow into two temples. 
 Under those shaggy eyebrows shone 
 
 dark gray eyes, that passed for black 
 with most people; and those eyes 
 were fixed on Helen, reading her. 
 Helen's light hazel eyes returned their 
 gaze. She blushed, and, still looking, 
 said, " Pray, madam, can 1 see Mr. 
 Undercliff? " 
 
 " My son is out for the day, miss," 
 said the old lady, civilly. 
 
 " O dear I how unfortunate I am ! " 
 said Helen, with a sigh. 
 
 " He comes back to-night. You 
 can see him to-morrow at ten o'clock. 
 A question of handwriting '? " 
 
 " Not exactly," said Helen ; " but 
 he was witness in favor of a person I 
 know was innocent." 
 
 "But he was found guilty," said the 
 other, with cool keenness. 
 
 " Yes, madam : and he has no 
 friend to clear him but me : a poor 
 weak girl, baflled and defeated which- 
 ever way I turn." She began to cry. 
 
 The old woman looked at her cry- 
 ing, with that steady composure which 
 marks her sex on these occasions ; 
 and, when she was better, said quietly, 
 " You are not so weak as you think." 
 She added, after a while, " If you 
 wish to retain my son, you had better 
 leave a fee." 
 
 " With pleasure, madam. What 
 is the fee ■? " 
 
 " One guinea. Of course, there is 
 a separate charge for any work he 
 may do for you." 
 
 " That is but reasonable, madam." 
 And with this she paid the fee, and 
 rose to go. 
 
 " Shall I send any one home with 
 you 1 " 
 
 " No, thank you," said Helen. 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Because you are followed, and 
 because you are not used to be fol- 
 lowed." 
 
 " Why, how did you find that out ? " 
 
 " By your face, when a man passed 
 the window, — a shabby-genteel fel- 
 low ; he was employed by some 
 gentleman, no doubt. Such faces as 
 yours will be followed in London. 
 If j'ou feel uneasy, miss, I will put 
 on my bonnet and see you home."
 
 202 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Helen was surprised at this act of 
 substantial civilitv from the Gor<:on. 
 " O. thank you/ Mrs. UndcrclifF," 
 said she. " No, I am not the least 
 afraid. Let tliem follow me, I am 
 doing nothing that I am ashamed of. 
 Indeed, I am glad I am thought 
 worth the trouble of following. It 
 shows nie I am not so thoroughly 
 contemptible. Good by, and many 
 thanks. Ten o'clock to-morrow." 
 
 And she walked home without 
 looking once behind her till tlie Hotel 
 was in siglit ; then she stopped at a 
 shop window, and in a moment her 
 swift eye embraced the whole land- 
 scape. But the shabby-genteel man 
 was nowhere in sight. 
 
 CHAPTER LVIL 
 
 "Wnicx Joseph Wylie disappeared 
 from tiie scene, Nancy Rouse made a 
 discovery whicii very often follows tlic 
 dismissal of a suitor, — that she was 
 considerably more attached to him 
 than she had thouL;ht. The house 
 became dull, the suliordinatc washer- 
 women languid; their taciturnity irri- 
 tated and depressed Nancy by turns. 
 
 Li the midst of this, Michael Pen- 
 fold discovered that Helen had come 
 back safe. He canic into her ])arlor, 
 beaming with satisfaction, and told 
 her of the good news. It gave her 
 immense delight at tirst. But, when 
 she had got used to her joy on that 
 score, she began to think she had 
 used Joe Wylie very ill. Now that 
 Helen was saved, she could no longer 
 i-ealize that Wylie was so very much 
 to blame. 
 
 She even persuaded herself that 
 his disappearance was the act of a 
 justly often ded man ; and, as he be- 
 longed to a class of whose good sense 
 she had a poor opinion, she was tor- 
 mented with fears that lie would do 
 some desperate act, — drown himself, 
 or go to sea ; or, worst of all, marry 
 some trollop. She became very anx- 
 ious and unhappy. Before this mis- 
 
 fortune she used to go about singing 
 the first verse of a song, and whis- 
 tling tlie next, like any plouL;hboy ; 
 an eccentric performance, but it made 
 the house gay. Now botli song and 
 whistle were suspended ! ami, instead, 
 it was all hard work and hard cry- 
 ing ; turn about. 
 
 She attached herself to Michael 
 Penfold because he had known trou- 
 ble, and was sym]jatlietic : and these 
 two opened their hearts to oi:e anotli- 
 cr, and formed a fiiendsiiip tiiat was 
 very honest and touching. 
 
 Tiie scene of their conversation and 
 mutual consolation was Nancy's par- 
 lor; a little mite of a room she had 
 jjartitioned off from her business. 
 " For," said she " a lady I '11 be, — 
 after my work is done, — if it is only 
 in a cupboard." The room iiad a 
 remarkably large fireplace, which had 
 ori^rinally warmed the whole floor, 
 but now was used as a ventilator 
 only. The gas would have been sti- 
 fling without it. As for lighting a 
 fire in it, that was out of the ques- 
 tion. . 
 
 On a certain evening, soon after 
 Mr. Penfold 's return from Scotland, 
 the pair sat over their tea, and the 
 conversation fell on the missing 
 sweetheart. Michael had been think- 
 ing it over, and was full of encour- 
 agement. He said : — 
 
 " Miss Rouse, something tells me 
 that, if poor Mr. Wylie could only 
 know your heart, he would turn up 
 again directly. What we ought to 
 do is to send somebody to look for 
 him in all the sailors' haunts : some 
 shaip fellow — Hear me, what a 
 knocking they keep up next door! " 
 
 " O, that is always the way when 
 one wants a cjuiet chat. Drat the 
 woman ! I '11 have her indicted." 
 
 " No, you won't. Miss Rouse : she 
 is a poor soul, and has got no busi- 
 ness except letting lodgings ; she is 
 not like you. But I do iiopc she 
 will be so kind as not to come quite 
 thnnigh the wall." 
 
 " Dear heart ! " said Nancy, " go 
 on, and never mind her noise, which
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 203 
 
 it is worse than a horgan - grind- 
 er." 
 
 " Well, then, if yon can't find him 
 that way, I say — Advertise." 
 
 " Me ! " cried Nancy, tnrning very 
 red. " Do I look like a woman as 
 wonld advertise for a man f " 
 
 " No ma'am : quite the reverse. 
 But what I mean is, you might put 
 in something not too plain. For in- 
 stance : If J. W. will return to N. R., 
 all will be forgotten and forgiven." 
 
 " He 'd have the upper hand of me 
 for life," said Nancy. " No, no ; I 
 won't advertise for the fool. What 
 right had he to run off at the first 
 word ? He ought to know niy bark 
 is worse than my bite by this time." 
 You can, though." 
 
 " Me bite, ma'am 1 " said the old 
 gentleman. 
 
 " Bite 1 no : advertise, since you 're 
 so fond of it. Come, you sit down 
 and write one ; and I 'II pay for it, for 
 that matter." 
 
 Michael sat down, and drew up the 
 following : " If Mr. Joseph AYylie will 
 call on Michael Penfold, at No. 3 
 E. C, he will hear of something to 
 his advantage." 
 
 " To his advantage t " said Nancy, 
 doubtfully. " Why not tell him the 
 truth 1 " 
 
 " Why, that is the truth, ma'am. 
 Is n't it to his advantage to be recon- 
 ciled to an honest, virtuous, painstak- 
 ing lady, that honors him with her 
 affection — and me with her friend- 
 ship 1 Besides, it is the common 
 form ; and there is nothing like stick- 
 ing to form." 
 
 " Mr. Penfold," said Nancy, " any 
 one can see you was born a gentleman ; 
 and I am a deal prouder to have you 
 and your washing than 1 should him 
 as pays you your wages : pale eyes, — 
 pale hair, — pale eyebrows, — I would 
 n't trust him to mangle a duster." 
 
 " Miss Rouse ! Pray don't dis- 
 parage my good master to me." 
 
 " I can't help it, sir : thought is 
 free, especially in this here coni]Kxrt- 
 nient. Better speak one's mind than 
 die o' the sulks. So shut your ear 
 
 when my music jars. But one every 
 other day is enough : if he won't come 
 back for that, wliy, he must go, and I 
 must look out for another ; tliere 's as 
 good iish in the sea as ever came out 
 of it. Still, I '11 not deny I have a 
 great respect for poor Joe. Mr. 
 Penfold, what shall I do ! Oh, oh, 
 oh ! " 
 
 " There, there," said Michael, " I '11 
 put this into the Times every day." 
 
 " You are a good soul, Mr. Penfold. 
 Oh — oh, oh ! " 
 
 When he had finished the advei'- 
 tisement in a clerkly hand, and she 
 had finished her cry, she felt compara- 
 tively comfortable, and favored Mr. 
 Penfold with some reflections. 
 
 " Dear heart, Mr. Penfold, how you 
 and I do take to one another, to be 
 sure. But so we ought : for we are 
 honest folk, the pair, and has had a 
 hard time. Don't it never strike you 
 rather curious that two thousand 
 pounds was at the bottom of both our 
 troubles, yourn and mine 1 I might 
 have married Joe, and been a happy 
 woman with him ; but the Devil puts 
 in my head — There you go again 
 hammering ! Life ain't worth having 
 next door to that lodging-house. 
 Drat the woman, if she must peck, 
 why don't she go in the churchyard 
 and peck her own grave ; which we 
 shall never be quiet till she is there : 
 and these here gimcrack houses, they 
 won't stand no more pecking at than, 
 a soap-sud. — Ay, tliat's what hurts 
 me, Mr. Penfold : the Lord had giv- 
 en him and me health and strength 
 and honesty ; our betters had wed for 
 love and wrought for money, as the 
 saying is ; but I must go again Na- 
 ture, that cried ' Come couple ' ; and 
 must bargain for two thousand pounds. 
 So now I 've lost the man, and not 
 got the monev, nor never shall : and, 
 if I had, I 'd burn — Ah — ah — ah 
 — ah — ah ! " 
 
 This tirade ended in stifled sci-eams 
 of terror, caused by the sudden ap- 
 pearance of a human hand, in a place 
 and in a manner well adapted to shake 
 the stoutest laundress's nerves.
 
 204 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 This hand came through the brick- 
 tt'oik of the chiiiiney-place, and there 
 remained a inoineiit or two : then 
 slowly retired, and, as it retired, sonie- 
 tiiin<,' was heard to fall upon the shav- 
 injrs and tinsel of the fireplace. 
 
 Naney, by a feminine iinjnilse, put 
 her hands before her face, to hide this 
 supernatural hand ; and, when she 
 found eouraj^e to withdraw them, and 
 (,'lare at the place, there was no aper- 
 ture whatever in the brick-work ; and, 
 consequently, the hand appeared to 
 have traversed the solid material, both 
 cominj^ andgoin;;. 
 
 " O Mr. Tenfolds," cried Nancy ; 
 "I'm a sinful woman. This comes 
 of talking of the Devil arter sunset " ; 
 and she sat trembling so that the very 
 floor shook. 
 
 JMr. Penfold's nerves -were not 
 strong. He and Nancy botli huddled 
 together for mutual protection, and 
 their faces had not a vestige of color 
 left in them. 
 
 However, after a period of general 
 paralysis, Penfold whispered : — 
 
 " 1 heard it drop soiiiething on tlie 
 shavinp;s." 
 
 " Then we shall be all in a blaze o' 
 brimstone," shrieked Nancy, wringing 
 her hands. 
 
 And they waited to see. 
 
 Then, as no conflagration took 
 place, Mr. Penfold got up, and said he 
 must go and sec what it was the hand 
 had dropped. 
 
 Nancy, in whom curiosity was be- 
 ginning to battle with terror, let him 
 go to the Hreplacc without a word of 
 objection, and then cried out, — 
 
 " Don't go anigh it, sir ; it will do 
 you a miselnef ; don't touch it what- 
 ever. Take the toiu/s." 
 
 He took the tongs, and presently 
 flung into the middle of the room a 
 small oil-skin ])acket. This, as it lay 
 on the ground, they both eyed like two 
 deer glow-ering at a piece of red cloth, 
 and ready to leap back over the moon 
 if it should show signs of biting. But 
 oilskin is not preternatural, nor has 
 tradition connected it, however i^e- 
 motely, with the Enemy of man. 
 
 Consequently, a great revulsion 
 took place in Nancy, and she passed 
 from fear to indignation at having 
 been frightened so. 
 
 yhe ran to the fireplace, and, putting 
 iter head up the chimney, screamed, 
 " Heave your dirt where you heave 
 your love, ye Brazen ! " 
 
 While she was objurgating her 
 neighbor, whom, with feminine jus- 
 tice, she held responsible for every act 
 done in her house, Penfold undid the 
 packet, and Nancy returned to her 
 seat, with her mind more at ease, to 
 examine the contents. 
 
 "Bank-notes ! " cried Penfold. 
 
 " Ay," said Nancy, incredulously, 
 "they do look like' bank-notes, and 
 feel like 'em ; but they ain't wrote like 
 them. Bank-notes ain't wrote black 
 like that in the left-hand corner." 
 
 Penfold explained. 
 
 " Ten-pound notes arc not, nor 
 fives ; but large notes are. These are 
 all fifties." 
 
 " Fifty whats ? " 
 
 "Fifty pounds." 
 
 " What, each of them bits of paper 
 worth fifty pounds ? " 
 
 "Yes. Let us count them ; 1,2,3, 
 4, .5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 1.3, 14, 15, 
 16, 17, 18,-0 Lord! — 20. Why, 
 it is two thousand pounds, — just two 
 thousand pounds. It is the very sum 
 that ruined me ; it did not belong to 
 me, and it's being in the house ruined 
 my poor Robert. And this does not 
 belong to you. Lock all the doors, 
 bar all the windows, and burn them 
 before the j)olice come." 
 
 " Wait a bit," said Nancy, — " wait 
 a bit." 
 
 They sat on each side of the notes ; 
 Penfolil ai,ntated and terrified, Nancy 
 confounded and perplexed. 
 
 CHAPTER LVIIL 
 
 PuxcTUALLY at ten o'clock Helen 
 returned to Frith Street, and found 
 Mr. Underdid' behind a sort of coun- 
 ter, employed in tracing ; a workman
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 205 
 
 was seated at some little distance from 
 him ; both bent on their woik. 
 
 " Mr. Undercliff 1 " said Helen. 
 
 He rose, and tnrned towards her 
 politely, — a pule, fair man, with a 
 keen gray eye and a pleasant voice 
 and manner : " I am Edward Under- 
 cliff. You come by appointment 1 " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " A question of handwriting ? " 
 
 "Not entirely, sir. Do you remem- 
 ber giving witness in favor of a young 
 clergyman, Mr. Robert Penfold, who 
 was accused of forgery 1 " 
 
 " I remember the circumstance, but 
 not the details." 
 
 " dear ! that is unfortunate," said 
 Helen, with a deep sigh ; she often 
 had to sigh now. 
 
 " Why, you see," said the Expert, 
 " I am called on such a multitude of 
 trials. However, I take notes of the 
 principal ones. What year was it in 1 " 
 
 "In 1864." 
 
 Mr. Undercliff went to a set of 
 drawers arranged chronologically, 
 and found his notes directly. " It 
 was a forged bill, madam, indorsed 
 and presented by Penfold. I was 
 called to prove that the bill was not 
 in the handwriting of Penfold. Here 
 is my facsimile of the Robert Penfold 
 indorsed upon the bill by the prison- 
 er." He handed it her, and she ex- 
 amined it with interest. " And here 
 are fac-similes of genuine writing by 
 John Wardlaw ; and here is a copy of 
 the forged note." 
 
 He laid it on the table before her. 
 She started, and eyed it with horror. 
 It was a long time before she could 
 speak. At length she said, " And 
 that wicked piece of paper destroyed 
 Robert Penfold." 
 
 " Not that piece of paper, but the 
 original ; this is a fac-simile, so far as 
 the writing is concerned. It was not 
 necessary in this case to imitate paper 
 and color. Stay, here is a sheet on 
 which I have lithographed the three 
 styles ; that will enable you to follow 
 my comparison. But perhaps that 
 would not interest you." Helen had 
 the tact to say it would. Thus en- 
 
 couraged, the Expert showed her that 
 Robert Penfold's writing had nothing 
 in common with the forged note. He 
 added : " I also detected in the forged 
 note habits which were entirely absent 
 from tlie true writing of John Ward- 
 law. You will understand there were 
 plenty of undoubted specimens in 
 court to go by." 
 
 '• Then, O sir," said Helen, " Rob- 
 ert Penfold was not guilty." 
 
 " Certainly not of writing the 
 forged note. I swore that, and I '11 
 swear it again. But when it came to 
 questions whether he had passed the 
 note, and whether he knew it was 
 forged, that was quite out of my 
 province." 
 
 "I can understand that," said 
 Helen ; " but you beard the trial ; 
 you are very intelligent, sir, you 
 must have formed some opinion as 
 to whether he was guilty or not." 
 
 The Expert shook his head. " Mad- 
 am," said he, " mine is a profound and 
 difficult art, which aims at certainties. 
 Very early in my career I found that 
 to master that art I must be sin- 
 gle-minded, and not allow my car to 
 influence my eye. By purposely avoid- 
 ing all reasoning from external cir- 
 cumstances, I have distanced my com- 
 petitors in expertise ; but I sometimes 
 think I have rather weakened my 
 powers of conjecture through disuse. 
 Now, if my mother had been at the 
 trial, she would give you an opinion 
 of some value on the outside facts. 
 But that is not my line. If you 
 feel sure he was innocent, and want 
 me to aid you, you must get hold of 
 the handwriting of every person who 
 was likely to know old Ward law's 
 handwriting, and so might have im- 
 itated it ; all the clerks in his office; 
 to begin with. Nail tlie forger; that 
 is vour only chance." 
 
 '' What," sir!" said Helen, with 
 surprise, " if you saw the true hand- 
 writing of the person who wrote that 
 forged note, should you recognize 
 it i" 
 
 " Why not 1 It is difficult ; but I 
 have done it hundreds of times."
 
 206 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 " Oh ! Is for<;crv so common ? " 
 
 " No : hut I am in all tlic cases ; 
 and, hesides, I do a great deal in a 
 business that requires the same kintl 
 of expertise, — anonj'moiis letters. I 
 detect assassins of that kind by the 
 score. A gentleman or lady, down 
 in tlie country, gets a poisoned arrow 
 by the post, or perhaps a shower of 
 them. They are always in disguised 
 handwriting ; those who receive them 
 send them up to me, with writings of 
 all the people they suspect. The dis- 
 guise is generally more or less super- 
 ficial ; five or six unconscious habits 
 remaiu below it, and often these un- 
 disguised habits arc the true charac- 
 teristics of the writer. And 1 '11 tell 
 you something curious, madam ; it is 
 quite common for all the suspected 
 people to be innocent; and tiien I 
 write back, ' Send me the handwriting 
 of the people you suspect the least ' ; 
 and amongst them I often find the as- 
 sassin." 
 
 "O Mr. Undcrcliff," said Helen, 
 "you make my heart sick." 
 
 " 0, it is a vile world, for that mat- 
 ter," said the Expert; "and the 
 country no better than the town, for 
 all it looks so sweet with its green 
 fields and purling rills. There they 
 sow anonymous letters like barley : 
 the very girls write anonymous let- 
 ters that make my hair stand on end. 
 Yes, it is a vile world." 
 
 " Don't yon believe him, miss," 
 said Mrs. Underclilf, appearing sud- 
 denly. Then, turning to her son, 
 " How can you measure the world 1 
 You live in a little one of your own, 
 — a world of forgers and anony- 
 mous writers ; you sec so many of 
 these, yon fancy they are common 
 as dirt; but they are only common 
 to vou because they all come vour 
 wav." 
 
 '"' O, that is it, is it? " said the Ex- 
 pert, doubtfully. 
 
 " Yes, that is it, Ned," said the old 
 lady, (piietly ; tlien after a pause she 
 said, " I want you to do your very 
 best for tiiis young lady." 
 
 " I always do," said the Artist. 
 
 " But liow can I judge without mate- 
 rials ? And she brings me none." 
 
 Mrs. Undcrcliff turned to Helen, 
 and said : " Have you brought him 
 nothing at all, no handwritings — in 
 your bag? " 
 
 Then Helen sighed again. " I 
 have no handwriting except Mr. Pen- 
 fold's ; but I have two printed reports 
 of the trial." 
 
 " Printed reports," said the Expert, 
 " they are no use to me. Ah ! here 
 is an outline I took of the prisoner 
 during the trial. You can read faces : 
 tell the lady whether he was guilty or 
 not," and he handed the profile to his 
 mother with an ironical look ; not 
 that he doubted her proficiency in the 
 rival art of reading faces, but that he 
 doubted the existence of the art. 
 
 Mrs. Undcrcliff took the profile, 
 and, coloring slightly, said to Miss 
 Rolleston : " It is living faces I profess 
 to read : there I can see the move- 
 ment of the eyes and other things 
 that my son here has not studied." 
 Then she scrutinized the profile. " It 
 is a very handsome face," said she. 
 
 The Expert chuckled. " There 's a 
 woman's judgment," said he. " Hand- 
 some ! the fellow I got transported 
 for life down at Exeter was an Ado- 
 nis, and forged wills, bonds, and pow- 
 ers of attorney by the dozen." 
 
 " There 's something noble about 
 this face," said Mrs. Undcrcliff, ig- 
 noring the interruption, " and yet 
 somctiiing simj)le. ' I think him more 
 likely to be a cat's-paw than a felon." 
 Having delivered this -with a certain 
 modest dignity, she laid the profile on 
 the counter before Helen. 
 
 The E.Kjjert had a wonderful cyo 
 and hand ; it was a good tiling for 
 society he had elected to be game- 
 keeper instead of poacher, detector of 
 forgery instead of forger. No j)hoto- 
 graph was ever truer tlian this outline. 
 Helen started, and bowed her head 
 over the sketch to conceal the strong 
 and various emotions that swelled at 
 si<xht of the portrait of her martyr. In 
 vain ; if the eyes were hidden, the ten- 
 der bosom heaved, the graceful body
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 207 
 
 quivered, and the tears fell fast upon 
 the counter. 
 
 Mrs. Undercliff was womanly 
 enough, tliou<ili she looked like the 
 lute Lord Tluulow in petticoats ; and 
 slie instantly aided the girl to hide 
 her heating- heart from the man, 
 thougli that man was her son. She 
 distracted his attention. " Give me 
 all your notes, Ned," said she, " and 
 let me see whether I can make'some- 
 thing of them ; hut first perhaps jNIiss 
 liolleston will empty her bag on the 
 counter. Go back to your work a 
 moment, for I know you have enough 
 to do." 
 
 The Expert was secretly glad to be 
 released I'rom a case in which there 
 were no materials ; and so Helen 
 escaped unobserved except by one of 
 her own sex. She saw directly what 
 lilrs. L^ndercliff had done for her, 
 and lil'ted her sweet eyes, thick with 
 tears, to thank her. Mrs. Undercliff 
 smiled muernally, and next these two 
 ladies did a stroke of business in the 
 twinkling of an eye, and without a 
 word spoken, whereof anon. Helen 
 being once more composed, Mrs. Un- 
 dercliff took up the prayer-book, and 
 asked her with some curiosity what 
 could 1)0 in that. 
 
 " 0," said Helen, "only some writ- 
 ing of Mr. Penfold. Mr. Undercliff 
 does not want to see that ; he is 
 already sure Robert Penfold never 
 wrote that wicked thing." 
 
 " Yes, but I should like to see some 
 more of his handwriting, for all that," 
 said ihe Expert, looking suddenly up. 
 
 " But it is only in pencil." 
 
 " Never mind ; you need not fear I 
 shall alter my opinion." 
 
 Helen colored high. " You are 
 right; and I should disgrace my good 
 cause by withholding anything from 
 your inspection. There, sir." And 
 she opened the prayer-book, and laid 
 Cooper's dying words before the Ex- 
 pert ; he glanced over them with an 
 eye like a bird, and compared them 
 with his notes. 
 
 '•'Yes," said he, "that is Robert 
 Penfold's writing ; and I say again 
 
 that hand never wrote the forged 
 note." 
 
 " Let me see that," said Mrs. Un- 
 dercliff. 
 
 " O yes," said Helen, rather irres- 
 olutely ; " but you look into the 
 things as well as the writing, and I 
 promised papa — " 
 
 " Can't you trust me ? " said Mrs. 
 Undercliff, turning suddenly cold and 
 a little suspicious. 
 
 " O yes, madam ; and indeed I 
 have nothing to reproach myself with. 
 But my papa is anxious. However, 
 I am sure you are my friend ; and all 
 I ask is that you will never mention to 
 a soul what you read there." 
 
 " I promise that," said the elder 
 lady, and instantly bent her black 
 brows upon the writing. And, as she 
 did so, Helen observed her counte- 
 nance rise, as a face is very apt to do 
 when its owner enters on congenial 
 work. 
 
 " You would have made a gi-eat 
 mistake to keep this from me" said 
 slie, gravely. Then she pondered 
 profoundly; then she turned to her 
 son and said, " Why, Edward, this is 
 the very young lady who was Avrecked 
 in the Pacific Ocean, and cast on a 
 desolate island. We have all read 
 about you in the papers, miss ; and I 
 felt for )'ou, for one, but, of course, 
 not as I do now I have seen you. 
 You must let me go into this with 
 you." 
 
 " Ah, if you would ! " said Helen. 
 " madam, I have gone through tor- 
 tures already for want of somebody 
 of my own sex to keep me in counte- 
 nance ! O, if you could have seen 
 how I have been received, with what 
 cold looks, and sometimes with im- 
 pertinent stares, before I could even 
 penetrate into the region of those cold 
 looks and petty formalities ! Any mis- 
 erable straw was excuse enough to 
 stop me on my errand of justice and 
 mercy and gratitude." 
 
 " Gratitude % " 
 
 " O yes, madam. The papers have 
 only told you that I was shipwrecked 
 and cast away. They don't tell -you
 
 208 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 that Eobert Pcnfold warned mc the 
 ship was to he destroyed, and I dishe- 
 licved and artVontcd him in return, and 
 he never reproaehed me, not even by 
 a look. And we were in a boat with 
 the sailors all starved — not hunj^ry : 
 starved — and mad with thirst, and 
 j'ct in his own a;^ony he hid some- 
 thing forme to eat. All his thouj^ht, 
 all his fear, was for mc. Sueh thinj^s 
 are not done in those great extremi- 
 ties of the poor, vulgar, sutJering body, 
 except by angels in whom the soul 
 rises above the flesh. And he is such 
 an angel. I have had a knife lifted 
 over me to kill mc, madam, — yes: 
 and again it was he who saved mc. 
 I owe my life to him on the island 
 over and over again ; and in return I 
 have promised to give him back his 
 honor, that lie values far more than 
 life, as all such nol)lc spirits do. Ah, 
 my poor martyr, how feebly I plead 
 your cause ! (3 help mc ! pray, pray, 
 help me ! All is so dark, and I so 
 weak, so weak." Again the loving 
 eyes streamed ; and this time not an 
 eye was dry in the little shop. 
 
 The Expert flung down his tracing 
 with something between a groan and 
 a curse. " Who can do that drudg- 
 ery," he cried, " whilst the poor young 
 lady — IMother, you take it in hand ; 
 find me some material, though it is no 
 bigger than a fly's foot, give me but a 
 clew no thicker than a spider's web, 
 and I '11 follow it through the whole 
 lahyrinth. But you see I 'm impo- 
 tent ; there 's no basis for mc. It is a 
 case for you. It wants a shrewd, sa- 
 gacious hody that can read facts and 
 faces ; and — I won't jest any more. 
 Miss RoUeston, for you are deeply in 
 earnest. Well, then, she really is a 
 woman with a wonderful insight into 
 facts and faces. She has got a way 
 of reading them as I read handwrit- 
 ing ; and she must have taken a great 
 fancy to you, for as a rule she never 
 docs us the honor to meddle." 
 
 " Have you taken a fancy to mc, 
 madam 1 " said Helen, modestly and 
 tenderly, yet half archly. 
 
 "That" I have," said the other. 
 
 " Those eyes of yours went straight 
 into my heart last night, or I should 
 not be here this morning. That is 
 partly owing to my own eyes being 
 so dark and yours the loveliest hazel. 
 It is twenty years since eyes like yours 
 have gazed into mine. Diamonds are 
 not half so rare, nor a tenth part so 
 lovely, to my fancy." She turned her 
 head away, melted probably by some 
 tender reminiscence. It was only for 
 a moment. She turned round again, 
 and said quietly : " Yes, Ned, I should 
 like to try what I can do ; I think you 
 said these arc reports of his trial. I '11 
 begin by reading them." 
 
 She read them both very slowly and 
 carefully, and her face grew like a 
 judge's, and Helen watched each shade 
 of expression with deep anxiety. 
 
 That powerful countenance showed 
 alacrity and hope at first : then doubt 
 and difficulty, and at last dejection. 
 Helen's heart turned cold, and for the 
 first time she began to despair. For 
 now a shrewd person, with a plain 
 prejudice in her favor and Robert's, 
 was staggered by the simple facts of 
 the trial. 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 Mrs. Undercliff, having read the 
 reports, avoided Helen's eye (another 
 bad sign). She turned to IMr. Under- 
 cliff, and, probably because the perusal 
 of the reports had disappointed her, 
 said, almost angrily : " Edward, what 
 did you say to make them laugh at 
 that trial ? Both these papers say that 
 ' an Expert was called, whose inge- 
 nuity made the court smile, but did 
 not counterbalance the evidence.' " 
 
 " Why, that is a falsehood on the 
 face of it," said the Expert, turning 
 red. "I was called simply and solely 
 to prove Tenfold did not write the 
 forged note ; I proved it to the judge's 
 satisfaction, and be directed the pris- 
 oner to be acfiuittcd on that count. 
 Miss Rollcston, the lawyers often do 
 sneer at experts ; but then four ex- 
 perts out of five are rank impostors,
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 209 
 
 a set of theorists, who go by arbitrary 
 rules framed in the closet, and not by 
 lar<i^e and laborious compiirison with 
 indis]nitable documents. These char- 
 latans are not aware that five tliousand 
 cramped and tremulous, but genuine, 
 signatures are written every day by 
 honest men, and so they denounce 
 every cramped or tremulous writing 
 as a forgery. The varieties in a man's 
 writing, caused by his writing with his 
 glove on or off, with a quill or a bad 
 steel pen, drunk or sober, calm or 
 agitated, in full daylight or dusk, 
 etc., etc., all this is a dead letter to 
 them, and they have a bias towards 
 suspicion of forgery ; and a banker's 
 clerk, with his mere general impres- 
 sion, is better evidence than they are. 
 But I am an artist of a very different 
 stamp. I never reason a priori. I 
 compare ; and I have no bias. I never 
 will have. Tiie judges know this and 
 the pains and labor 1 take to be right, 
 and they treat me with courtesy. At 
 Penfold's trial tlie matter was easy ; 
 I showed the court he had not written 
 the note, and my evidence crushed the 
 indictment so far. How could they 
 have laughed at my testimony ? Why, 
 they acted upon it. Those reports are 
 not worth a straw. What journals 
 Avere they cut out of? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Helen. 
 
 "Is there nothing oa the upper 
 marijin to show T " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " What, not on either of them ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Show them me, please. This is 
 a respectable paper too : the Daily 
 News. 
 
 " O Mr. Undercliff, how can you 
 know that 1 " 
 
 " I don't know it ; but I think so, 
 because the type and paper are like 
 that journal ; the conductors are fond 
 of clean type ; so am I. Why, here 
 is another misstatement; the judge 
 never said he aggravated his offence 
 by trying to cast a slur upon the 
 Wardlaws. I'll swear the judge 
 never said a syllable of the kind. 
 What he said was, ' You can speak in 
 14 
 
 arrest of judgment on grounds of law, 
 but you must not impugn the verdict 
 witli facts.' That w;is tlie only time 
 he spoke to the prisoner at all. These 
 reports are not worth a button." 
 
 Helen lifted up her hands and eyes 
 in despair. " Where shall I find the 
 truth ■? " said she. " The world is a 
 quicksand." 
 
 " My dear young lady," said Mrs, 
 Undercliff, " don't you be discoui'- 
 aged : there must be a correct report 
 in some paper or other." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that," said Un- 
 dercliff. " I believe the reporters 
 trundle off to the nearest public-house 
 together, and light their pipes with 
 their notes, and settle something or 
 other by memory. Indeed they liave 
 reached a pitch of inaccuracy that 
 could not be attained without co- 
 operation. Independent liars contra- 
 dict each other : but these chaps 
 follow one another in falsehood, like 
 geese toddling after one another 
 across a common." 
 
 " Come, come," said Mrs. Under- 
 cliff', " if you can't help us, don't hurt 
 us. We don't want a man to talk 
 yellow jaundice to us. Miss RoUes- 
 ton must employ somebody to read 
 all the other papers, and compare the 
 reports with these." 
 
 " I '11 employ nobody but myself," 
 said Helen " I '11 go to the British 
 Museum directly." 
 
 " The Museum ! " cried Mr. Un- 
 dercliff, looking with surprise. " Why, 
 they will be half an hour groping for 
 a copy of the Times. No, no ; go to 
 Peele's Coffee-House. He directed her 
 where to find that place ; and she was 
 so eager to do something for Robert, 
 however small, that she took up her 
 bag directly, and put up the prayer- 
 book, and was going to ask for her 
 extracts, when she observed Mr. Un- 
 dercliff was scrutinizing them with 
 great interest, so she thought she 
 would leave them with him ; but, on 
 looking more closely, she found that 
 he was examining, not the reports, 
 but the advertisements and miscel- 
 lanea on the reverse side.
 
 210 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 She waited out of politeness, but 
 she coloreil and hit licr lip. Slie 
 could not help fcelinj; hurt and in- 
 di;xnant. " Any trash is more inter- 
 esting: to people tiian poor Robert's 
 case," she thought. And at last she 
 said l)itterly : — 
 
 " Those advertisements seem to in- 
 terest you, sir ; shall I leave them 
 with you 1 " 
 
 " If you please," said the Expert, 
 over whose head, bent in do<^<red 
 scrutiny, this small thunderbolt of 
 feminine wrath passed unconscious. 
 
 Helen drove away to Pccle's Coffee- 
 IIousc. 
 
 Jilrs. Undcrcliff pondered over the 
 facts that had been elicited in this 
 conversation ; the Expert remained 
 absorbed in tiic advertisements at the 
 back of Helen's reports. 
 
 Wlicn he had examined every one 
 of theni minutely, he held the entire 
 extracts up to the light, and loolced 
 through tlicm ; tiicn he stuck ii double 
 niagnilier in his eye, and looked 
 through them with that. Then he 
 took two ])ieccs of card, wrote on 
 them lie Tenfold, and looked about 
 for his other materials, to put them 
 all neatly together. Lo ! the profile 
 of Robert Penfold was gone. 
 
 " Now that is too bad," said he. 
 " So much for her (If)velike eyes, that 
 you admired so. Miss Innocence has 
 stolen that profile." 
 
 " Stolen ! she bought it — of me." 
 " Why, she never said a word." 
 " No ;' but she looked a look. She 
 asked me, with those sweet imploring 
 eyes, might she have it ; and I looked 
 yes : then she glanced towards you, 
 and put down a note. Here it is." 
 
 " Why, you beat the telegraph, 
 you two! Ten pounds for that thing ! 
 i must make it up to her some- 
 how." 
 
 " I wish you could. Toor girl, 
 she is a lady every inch. But she is 
 in love with that Penfold. I'm afraid 
 it is a hopeless case." 
 
 " I have seen a plainer. But hope- 
 less it is not. However, you work 
 your way, and I '11 work mine." 
 
 "But you can't; you have no 
 materials." 
 
 " No ; but I have found a door that 
 may lead to materials." 
 
 Having delivered himself thus mys- 
 teriously, he shut himself up in obsti- 
 nate silence until Helen Kollcston 
 called again, two days afterwards. 
 She brought a bag full of manuscript 
 this time : to wit, copies in her own 
 handwriting of eight reports, the 
 Queen r. Penfold. She was in good 
 spirits, and told j\Irs. Underclitf that 
 all the reports were somewhat more 
 favorable than the two she had left ; 
 and she was beginning to tell Mr. 
 Undcrcliff he was quite right in his 
 recollection, when he intcrruiited her, 
 and said, "All that is secondary now. 
 Have you any objection to answer me 
 a ciuestion ? " 
 
 She colored ; but said, " no. 
 Ask me anything you like " ; then 
 she blushed deeper. 
 
 " How did you become possessed 
 of those two reports you left with me 
 the other day ? " 
 
 At this question, so different 
 from what she feared, Helen cleared 
 up and smiled, and said, " From a 
 ilr. Hand, a clerk in Mr. "Wardlaw's 
 office ; they were sent me at my re- 
 quest." 
 
 The Ex]iert seemed pleased at this 
 rejdy ; his brow cleared, and he said : 
 " Then I don't mind telling you that 
 those two reports will bring Penfold's 
 case within my province. To speak 
 plainly, Miss 'Eollcston, your news- 
 paperextracts — are Forgeries." 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 " Forgeries ! " cried Helen, with 
 innocent horror. 
 
 " Rank Forgeries," repeated the 
 Expert, coollv. 
 
 " Forseries ! " cried Helen. " Why, 
 how can printed things be that f " 
 
 " That is what I should like to 
 know," said the old lady. 
 
 " Why, what else can you call
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 211 
 
 them?" said the Expert. "They 
 are got up to look like extracts from 
 newspapers. But they were printed 
 as they are, and were never in any 
 journal. Shall I tell you how I found 
 that out 1 " 
 
 " If you please, sir," said Helen. 
 
 " Well, then, I looked at the re- 
 verse side, and I found seven mis- 
 prints in one slip, and live in the 
 other. That was a great number to 
 creep into printed slips of that length. 
 The trial part did not show a single 
 erratum. ' Hullo ! ' said I to my- 
 self ; ' why, one side is printed more 
 carefully than the other.' And 
 that was not natural. The printing 
 of advertisements is looked after 
 quite as sharply as any other part 
 in a journal. Why, the advertisers 
 themselves cry out if they are mis- 
 printed ! " 
 
 " 0, how shrewd ! " cried Helen. 
 
 " Child's play," said the Expert. 
 " "Well, from tliat blot I went on. I 
 looked at the edges, and they were 
 cut too clean. A gentleman with a 
 pair of scissors can't cut slips out of 
 a paper like this. They were cut in 
 the printer's office. Lasth^, on holding 
 them to the light, I found they had 
 not been machined upon the plan 
 now adopted by all newspapers ; but 
 worked by hand. In one word — 
 forgeries ! " 
 
 " 0," said Helen, " to think I should 
 have handled foi'geries, and shown 
 them to yo'i for real. Ah ! I 'm so 
 glad ; for now I have committed the 
 same crime as Robert Penfold ; I 
 have uttered a forged document. 
 Take me up, and have me put in 
 prison, for I am as guilty as ever he 
 was." Her face shone with rapture at 
 sharing Robert's guilt. 
 
 The Expert was a little puzzled by 
 sentiments so high-flowu aud un- 
 practical. 
 
 "I thhik," said he, "yoxi ai'c 
 hardly aware what a valuable discov- 
 ery this may prove to you. Howev- 
 er, the next step is to get me a speci- 
 men of the person's handwriting who 
 furnished you Avith these. The 
 
 chances are he is the writer of the 
 forged note." 
 
 Helen uttered an exclamation that 
 was almost a scream. The inference 
 took her quite by surprise. She 
 looked at Mrs. UnderclitF. 
 
 " He is right, I think," said the 
 old lady. 
 
 " Right or wrong," said the Ex- 
 pert, " the next step in the inquiry is 
 to do what I said. But that demands 
 great caution. You must write a short 
 civil note to Mr. Hand, and just 
 ask him some question. Let me see : 
 ask him what newspapers his extracts 
 are from, and whether he has got any 
 more. He will not tell you the truth ; 
 but no matter, Ave shall get hold of 
 his handwriting." 
 
 " But, sir," said Helen, " there is 
 no need for that. Mr. Hand sent me 
 a note along with the extracts." 
 
 " The deuce he did. All the better. 
 Any words in it that are in the forged 
 note ? Is Penfold in it, or Ward- 
 law i " 
 
 Helen reflected a moment, and 
 then said she thought both those 
 names Avere in it. 
 
 " Fetch me that note," said Under- 
 cliff, and his eyes sparkled. He Avas 
 on a hot scent now. 
 
 " And let me study the genuine 
 reports, and compare Avhat they say 
 Avith the forged ones," said Mrs. 
 UnderclitF. 
 
 " O Avhat friends I have found at 
 last ! " cried Helen. 
 
 She thanked them both Avarmly, 
 and hurried home, for it Avas getting 
 late. 
 
 Next day she brought Hand's let- 
 ter to Mr. Undercliff, and devoured 
 his countenance Avhile he inspected 
 it keenly, and compared it Avith the 
 forged note. 
 
 The comparison Avas long and 
 careful, but unsatisfactory. Mr. Un- 
 derclilf could not conscientiously su}' 
 Avhether Hand had Avritten the forged 
 note or not. There Avere pros and 
 cons. 
 
 " We are in deeper water than I 
 thought," said he. " The compaii-
 
 212 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 son must be enlarged. You must 
 ■write as I suggested, and get another 
 note out of Mr. Hand." 
 
 "And leave tlie prayer-book with 
 me," said ]\Irs. Underclitf. 
 
 Helen complied with these instruc- 
 tions, and in due course received a 
 civil line from Mr. Hand, to say tliat 
 the extracts had been sent him from 
 the country by one of his fellow-clerks, 
 and he had locked them uj), lest Mr. 
 JNIichacl Pcnfold, who was much 
 respected in the office, should see 
 them. He could not say wliere they 
 came from ; perhaps from some pro- 
 vincial paper. If of any value to 
 Miss KoUeston, she was quite at lib- 
 erty to kee]) them. He added there 
 was a coffee-house in the city where 
 she could read all the London papers 
 of that date. This letter, which con- 
 tained a great many more words than 
 the other, was submitted to Under- 
 clitf. It puzzled liim so that he set 
 to work, and dissected every curve 
 the writer's pen had made ; but he 
 could come to no positive conclusion, 
 and he refused to utter his conjec- 
 tures. 
 
 " We are in a deep water," said 
 he. 
 
 Finally, he told his mother he was 
 at a stand still for the present. 
 
 " But I am not," said Mrs. Undcr- 
 cliff. She added, after a while, " I 
 think there 's felony at the bottom of 
 this." 
 
 " Smells like it to me," said the 
 Expert. 
 
 " Then I want vou to do something 
 very clever for me." 
 
 " What is that 1 " 
 
 " I want you to forge something." 
 
 " Come ! I say." 
 
 " Quite innocent, I assure you." 
 
 " Well, but it is a bad habit to 
 commence." 
 
 " All depends on the o1)ject. This 
 is to take in a forger, that is all." 
 
 The Expert's eyes sparkled. He 
 had always been sadly discontented 
 with the ertbrts of forgers, and thought 
 he could do better. 
 
 " I '11 do it," said he, gayly. 
 
 CHAPTER LXL 
 
 General Rolleston and his 
 daughter sat at breakfast in the hotel. 
 General Kolleston was reading the 
 Times, and his eye lighted on some- 
 thing that made bini start. He 
 looked towards Helen, and his first 
 impulse was to communicate it to 
 her : but, on second thoughts, he pre- 
 ferred to put a question to her first. 
 
 " You have never told the Ward- 
 laws Avhat those sailors said ? " 
 
 " No, papa. I still think they 
 ought to have been told ; but you 
 know vou positivelv forbade me." 
 
 " Of course I did. Why afflict the 
 old gentleman with such a tale? A 
 coujde of common sailors ! who chose 
 to fancy the ship was destroyed." 
 
 " Who are better judges of such a 
 thing than sailors ? " 
 
 " Well, my child, if you think so, 
 I can't help it. All 1 say is, spare 
 the old gentleman such a report. As 
 for Arthur, to tell you the truth, I 
 have mentioned the nuattcr to him." 
 
 " O pajia ! Then why forbid me 
 to tell him ? What did he say ? " 
 
 " He was very much distressed. 
 'Destroy the ship my Helen was in,' 
 said he : ' if I thought Wylie had 
 done that, I 'd kill him with my own 
 hand, though I was hanged for it 
 next minute.' I never saw the young 
 fellow fire up so before. But Mhen he 
 came to think calmly over it a little 
 while, he said : ' I hope this slander 
 will never reach my father's ears ; it 
 would grieve him deeply. I only 
 laugh at it.' " 
 
 " Laugh at it ! and yet talk of 
 killing?" 
 
 " O, people say they laugh at a 
 thing when they are very angry all 
 the time. However, as you are a 
 f;'ood girl, and mind what you are 
 told, 1 '11 read you an advertisement 
 that will make you stare. Here is 
 Josej)h Wylie, who, }-ou say, wrecked 
 the Proserpine, actually invited by 
 Michael Pcnfold to call on him, and 
 hear of something to his advantage." 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Helen, " how
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 213 
 
 strange ! Surely Mr. Penfold cannot 
 know the character of that man. Stop 
 a minute ! Advertise for him ? Then 
 nobody knows where he lives ? There, 
 papa : joxi see he is afraid to go near 
 Arthur Wardlaw; he knows he de- 
 stroyed the ship. What a mystery it 
 all is ! And so Mr. Penfold is at 
 home, after all : and not to send me 
 a single line. I never met with so 
 much unkindness and discourtesy in 
 all ray life." 
 
 " Ah, my dear," said the General, 
 " you never defied the world before, as 
 you are doing now." 
 
 Helen sighed ; but, presently recov- 
 ering her spirit, said she had done 
 without the world on her dear island, 
 and she would not be its slave now. 
 
 As she was always as good as her 
 word, she declined an invitation to 
 play the lion, and, dressing herself in 
 plain merino, went down that very 
 evening to Michael Penfold's cottage. 
 
 We run thither a little before her, 
 to relate briefly what had taken place 
 there. 
 
 Nancy Rouse, as may well be im- 
 agined, was not the woman to burn 
 two thousand pounds. She locked 
 the notes up ; and after that night 
 became very reserved on that head, so 
 much so that, at last, Mr. Penfold 
 saw it was an interdicted topic, and 
 dropped it in much wonder. 
 
 When Nancy came to think of it in 
 daylight, she could not help suspect- 
 ing Wylie had some hand in it ; and 
 it occurred to her that the old gentle- 
 man, who lodged next door, might be 
 an agent of Wylie's, and a spy on her. 
 AVylie must have told him to push the 
 £ 2,000 into her room ; but what a 
 strange thing to do ! To be sure, he 
 was a sailor, and sailors had been 
 known to make sandwiches of bank- 
 notes and cat them. Still, her good 
 sense revolted against this theory, and 
 she was sore puzzled; for, after all, 
 there was the money, and she had 
 seen it come through the wall. One 
 thing appeared certain, Joe had not 
 forgotten her ; he was thinking of her 
 as much as ever, or more than ever ; 
 
 so her spirits rose, she began singing 
 and whistling again, and waited cun- 
 ningly till Joe should reappear and 
 explain his conduct. Hostage for his 
 reappearance she held the £2,000. 
 She felt so strong and saucy she was 
 half sorry she had allowed Mr. Pen- 
 fold to advertise ; but, after all, it did 
 not much matter ; she could always 
 declare to Joe she had never missed 
 him, for her part, and the, advertising 
 was a folly of poor Mr. Penfold's. 
 
 Matters were in this condition when 
 the little servant came up one evening 
 to Mr. Penfold and said there was a 
 young lady to see him. 
 
 " A young lady for me ? " said he. 
 
 " AViiich she won't eat you, while I 
 am by," said the sharp little girl. 
 " It is a lady, and the same what 
 come before." 
 
 " Perhaps she will oblige me with 
 her name," said Michael, timidly. 
 
 " I won't show her up till she do," 
 said this mite of a servant, who had 
 been scolded by Nancy for not ex- 
 tracting that information on Helen's 
 last visit. 
 
 " Of course, I must receive her," 
 said Michael, half consulting the 
 mite ; it belonged to a sex which 
 promptly assumes the control of such 
 gentle creatures as he was. 
 
 " Is Miss Rouse in the way ? " said 
 he. 
 
 The mite laughed, and said : — 
 
 " She is only gone down the street. 
 I '11 send her in to take care on you." 
 
 With this she went off, and iti due 
 coui-se led Helen up the stairs. She 
 ran in, and whispered in Michael's 
 ears, — 
 
 " It is Miss Helen Rolleston." 
 
 Thus they announced a lady at 
 No. 3. 
 
 Michael stared with wonder at so 
 great a personage visiting him ; and 
 tiie next moment Helen glided into 
 the room, blushing a little, and even 
 panting inaudibly, but all on her 
 guard. She saw before her a rather 
 stately figure, and a face truly vener- 
 able, ijenignant, and beautiful, tliough 
 deficient iu strength. She cast a de-
 
 214 
 
 FOT'L PLAY, 
 
 Touring glance on liim as she courte- 
 sicd to him ; and it instantly flashed 
 across her, " But for you there would 
 be no IJobert renfold." There was 
 an unconscious tenderness in her voice 
 as she sjiokc to him, for she had to 
 open the inter^•icw. 
 
 "Mr. Tenfold, I fear my visit may 
 surprise you, as you did not write to 
 me. But,'when you hear what 1 am 
 come about, I think you will not be 
 displeased with me for coming." 
 
 " Displeased, madam ! I am highly 
 honored by your visit, — a lady who, 
 I understand, is to be married to my 
 worthy employer, Mr. Arthur. Pray 
 be seated, madam." 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 Helen began in a low, thrilling 
 voice, to which, however, she gave 
 firmness by a resolute effort of her 
 will. 
 
 " I am come to speak to you of one 
 who is very dear to you, and to all 
 who really know him." 
 
 " Dear to me ? It is my son. The 
 rest are gone. It is Kobert." 
 
 And he began to tremble. 
 
 " Yes, it is Robert," said she, very 
 softly ; then turning her eyes away 
 from him, lest his emotion should 
 overcome her, she said, — 
 
 " He has laid me and my father 
 under deep obligations." 
 
 She dragged her father in ; for it 
 was essential not to show Mr. Penfold 
 she was in love with Kobcrt. 
 
 " Obligations to my Robert ? Ah, 
 madam, it is very kind of you to say 
 that, and cheer a desolate father's 
 heart with praise of his lost son ! 
 But how could a ])Oor unfortunate 
 man in his position serve a ladv like 
 you ? " 
 
 " He defended me against robbers, 
 single-handed." 
 
 "Ah," said the old man, glowing 
 with pride, and looking more beauti- 
 ful than ever, " he was always as 
 brave as a lion." 
 
 " That is nothing ; he saved my 
 life again, and again, and again." 
 
 " God bless him for it ! and God 
 
 bless you for coming and telling me 
 of it ! madam, he was always 
 brave, and gentle, and just, and 
 good ; so noble, so unfortunate." 
 
 And the old man began to cry. 
 
 Helen's Ixisom heaved, and it cost 
 her a bitter struggle not to throw her 
 arms around tlie dear old man's neck 
 and cry with him. But she came pre- 
 pared for a sore trial of her feelings, 
 and she clenched her hands and teeth, 
 and would not give way an inch. 
 
 " Tell me how he saved your life, 
 madam." 
 
 "He was in the ship, and in the 
 boat, with me." 
 
 " Ah, madam," said Michael, " that 
 must have been some other Robert 
 Penfold ; not my son. He could not 
 come home. His time was not up, 
 you know." 
 
 " It was Robert Penfold, son of 
 Michael Penfold." 
 
 " Excuse me a moment," said Mi- 
 chael ; and he went to a drawer, and 
 bronij-ht her a ])liotoi;Taph of Robert. 
 " Was it this liobcrt Penfold ?" 
 
 The girl took the photograph, and 
 eyed it, and lowered her head over 
 it. 
 
 " Y^es," she murmured. 
 
 " And he was coming home in the 
 ship with you. Is he mad 1 More 
 trouble ! more trouble ! " 
 
 " Do not alarm yourself," said 
 Helen ; " he will not land in England 
 for years," — here she stifled a sob, 
 — " and long ere that we shall have 
 restored him to society." 
 
 IVIichael stared at that, and shook 
 his head. 
 
 " Never," said he ; " that is impos- 
 sible" 
 
 " Whv impossible ? " 
 
 " They all say he is a felon." 
 
 " They all shall say that he is a 
 martyr." 
 
 "And so he is; but how can that 
 ever be ]iroved ? " 
 
 "I don't know. But I am suro 
 the truth can always be proved, if 
 people have patience and persever- 
 ance."
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 215 
 
 •' My sweet young lady," said Mi- 
 cliael, sadly, " you don't know the 
 world." 
 
 " I am learning: it fast, though. It 
 may take me a few years, perhaps, to 
 make powerful friends, to grope my 
 way amongst forgers, and spies, and 
 wicked, dishonest people of all sorts, 
 but so surely as you sit there I '11 
 clear Robert Penfold before I die." 
 
 The good feeble old man gazed on 
 her with admiration and astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 She subdued her flashing eye, and 
 said with a smile : " And you shall 
 help me. Mr. Tenfold, let me ask 
 you a question. I called here before ; 
 but you were gone to Edinburgh. 
 Then I wrote to you at the office, 
 begging you to let me know the mo- 
 ment you returned Now, do not 
 think I am angry ; but pray tell me 
 why you would not answer my let- 
 ter!" 
 
 Michael Penfold was not burdened 
 with amour propre, but who has not 
 got a little of it in some corner of his 
 heart? "Miss Rolleston," said he, 
 " I was born a gentleman, and was a 
 man of fortune once, till false friends 
 ruined me. I am in business now, 
 but still a gentleman ; and neither as 
 a gentleman nor as a man of business 
 could I leave a lady's letter unan- 
 swered. I never did such a thing in 
 all my life. I never got your letter," 
 he said, quite put out ; and his wrath 
 was so like a dove's that Helen smiled 
 and said, " But I posted it myself. 
 And my address was in it ; yet it was 
 not returned." 
 
 " Well, madam, it was not deliv- 
 ered, I assure you." 
 
 " It was intercepted, then." 
 
 He looked at her. She blushed, 
 and said : " Yes, I am getting suspi- 
 cious, ever since I found I was followed 
 and watched. Excuse me a mo- 
 ment." She went to the window and 
 peered through the curtains. She 
 saw a man walking slowly by ; he 
 quickened his pace the moment she 
 opened the curtain. 
 
 " Y'es," said she, "it was intercept- 
 
 ed, and I am watched wherever I 
 go." 
 
 Before she could say any more a 
 bustle was heard on the stairs, and in 
 bounced Nancy Rouse, talking as she 
 came. " Excuse me, Mr. Penfokls, 
 but I can't wait no longer with my 
 heart a bursting ; it is ! it is ! my 
 dear, sweet young lady ; the Lord be 
 praised ! You really are here alive 
 and well. Kiss you I must and shall ; 
 come back from the dead ; there — 
 there — there ! " 
 
 " Nancy ! my good, kind Nancy," 
 cried Helen, and returned her em- 
 brace warmly. 
 
 Then followed a burst of broken 
 explanations ; and at last Helen made 
 out that Nancy was the landlady, and 
 had left Lambeth long ago. 
 
 " But, dear heart ! " said she, " ]Mr. 
 Penfokls, I 'm properly jealous of you. 
 To think of her coming here to see 
 you, and not me ! " 
 
 " But I did n't know you were here, 
 Nancy." Then followed a stream 
 of inquiries, and such warm-hearted 
 sympathy with all her dangers and 
 troubles, that Helen was led into re- 
 vealing the cause of it all. 
 
 "Nancy," said she, solemnly, " the 
 ship was wilfully cast away ; there 
 was a villain on board that made 
 holes in her on pui-pose, and sunk 
 her." 
 
 Nanc}" lifted up her hands in as- 
 tonishment. But JNIr. Penfold was 
 far more surprised and agitated. 
 
 "For Heaven's sake, don't say 
 that ! " he cried. 
 
 " Why not, sir ? " said Helen ; " it 
 is the truth ; and I have got the tes- 
 timony of dying men to prove it." 
 
 "I am sorry for it. Pray don't 
 let anybody knoAV. Why, Ward- 
 laws would lose the insurance of 
 £150,000." 
 
 "Arthur Wardlaw knows it: my 
 father told him." 
 
 " And he never told me," said Pen- 
 fold, with growing surorise. 
 
 "Goodness me! what a world it 
 is ! " cried Nancy. " Why, that was 
 murder, and no less. It is a wonder
 
 216 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 sTie was n't drownded, and another 
 friend into the bar^'-ain tliat I liad in 
 that very shij). U, 1 wish I had the 
 vilhiin liere that done it, I 'd tear his 
 eyes out ! " 
 
 Here the mite of a servant bounded 
 in, radiant and g'ifrgling, gave Nancy 
 a triu^i]>luint {ilancc, and popped out 
 again, liohling the door open, througli 
 ■which in slouclied a seafaring man, 
 drawn by Tenfold's advertisement, 
 and decoyed into Nancy's presence 
 by the imp of a girl, who thought to 
 please her mistress. 
 
 Nancy, who for some days had se- 
 cretly exjjccted this visit, merely gave 
 a little squeak ; but Helen ixttered a 
 violent scream ; and, upon that, 
 Wylie recognized her, and literally 
 staggered back a step or two, and 
 these words fell out of his mouth : — 
 
 " The sick girl ! " 
 
 Helen caught them. 
 
 Ay! 
 
 I " 
 
 cri 
 
 edsl 
 
 le; 
 
 ' but she is alive 
 
 in spite of you : alive to denounce you 
 and to punish you." 
 
 She darted forward, and her eyes 
 flashed lightning. 
 
 "Look at this man, all of you," 
 she cried. " Look at him well : 
 
 THIS IS THE WRETCH THAT SCUT- 
 TLED THE Proserpine ! " 
 
 CHAPTER LXH. 
 
 " O Miss Helen, how can you 
 say that ? " cried Nancy, in utter 
 dismay. " I '11 lay my life poor Joe 
 never did no such wickedness." 
 
 But Helen waved her otf without 
 looking at her, and pointed at Wylie. 
 
 " Are you blind ? Why does he 
 cringe and cower at sight of me 1 I 
 tell you he scuttled tlie Proserpine, 
 and the great auger he did it with I 
 have seen and handled. Yes, sir, you 
 destroyed a ship, and the lives of 
 many innocent ])crsons, whose blood 
 nowcries to Heaven against you ; and 
 if 7 am alive to tell the cruel talc, it is 
 no thanks to you ; for you did your 
 best to kill me, and, what is worse, to 
 
 kill Robert Pcnfold, this gentleman's 
 son ; for he was on board the ship. 
 You are no better than an assassin. 
 
 " I am a man that 's down," said 
 Wylie, in a low and broken voice, 
 hanging his head. " Don't hit me 
 any more. I did n't mean to take 
 anybody's life : I took my chance 
 with tlie rest, lady, as I 'm a man. I 
 have lain in my l)cd many 's the night, 
 crying like a child, with thinking you 
 wei'e dead. And now 1 am glad you 
 are alive to be revenged on me. Well, 
 you see, it is your turn now ; you 
 have lost me my sweetheart, there ; 
 she '11 never speak to me again, after 
 this. Ah, the poor man gets all tlie 
 blame ! You don't ask who temjjted 
 nie ; and, if I was to tell you, you 'd 
 hate me worse than ever ; so I '11 
 belay. If I 'm a sinner, I 'm a suffer- 
 er. England 's too hot to hold me. 
 I 've only to go to sea, and get 
 drowned the quickest way." And 
 with this he vented a deep sigh, and 
 slouched out of the room. 
 
 Nancy sank into a seat, and threw 
 her apron over her head, and rocked 
 and sobbed as if her heart would 
 break. 
 
 As for Helen Rolleston, she still 
 stood in the middle of the room, 
 burning with excitement. 
 
 Then ])oor old Michael came to 
 her, and said, almost in a Miiisper, — 
 
 " It is a bad business ; he is her 
 sweetheart, and she had the highest 
 opinion of him." 
 
 This softened Helen in a great 
 measure. Siie turned aud looked at 
 Nancy, and said, — 
 
 " (J deal", what a miserable thing ! 
 But I couldn't know that." 
 
 After a while, she drew a chair, and 
 sat down by Nancy, and said, — 
 
 " I won't />i(n/.s7i him, Nancy." 
 
 Nancy burst out sobbing afresh. 
 
 " You liai-i' punished him," said 
 she, brusquely, " and me too, as never 
 did you no harm. You have driven 
 him out of the country, you have." 
 
 At this piece of feminine justice 
 Helen's anger revived. " So, then," 
 said she, " ships are to be destroyed,
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 217 
 
 and ladies and gentlemen murdered, 
 and nobody is to complain, or say an 
 angry ^yol•d, if the wretch happens to 
 be paying his addresses to you. That 
 makes up for all the crimes in the 
 world. What ! Can an honest wo- 
 man like you lose all sense of right 
 and wrong for a man 1 And such a 
 man ! " 
 
 " Why, he is as well-made a fellow 
 as ever 1 saw," sobbed Nancy. 
 
 " 0, is he ■? " said Helen, ironically, 
 — her views of manly beauty were 
 different, and black eyes a sine qua non 
 with her, — " then it is a pity his 
 soul is not made to cori-espond. I 
 hope b}^ my next visit you will have 
 learned to despise him as you ought. 
 Why, if I loved a man ever so, 
 I 'd tear him out of my heart if 
 he committed a crime ; ay, though 
 I tore my soul out of my body to do 
 it." 
 
 " No, you would n't," said Nancy, 
 recovering some of her natural pug- 
 nacity ; " for we are all tarred with 
 the same stick, gentle or siuiple." 
 
 "But I assure you I would," cried 
 Helen ; " and so ought you." 
 
 " Well, miss, you begin," cried 
 Nancy, suddenly firing up through 
 her tears. " If the Proserpine was 
 scuttled, which I 've your word for it, 
 Miss Helen, and I never knew you tell 
 a lie, why, your sweetheart is more to 
 blame for it than mine." 
 
 Helen rose with dignity. 
 
 " You are in grief," said she. "I 
 leave you to consider whether you 
 ■ have done well to affront me in your 
 own house." And she was moving 
 to the door with great dignity, when 
 Nancy ran and stopped her. 
 
 " (3, don't leave me so, Miss 
 Helen," she cried ; " don't you go 
 to quarrel with me for speaking the 
 tiiith too plain and rude, as is a plain- 
 spoken body at the best ; and in such 
 grief myself I scarce know what to 
 say. But indeed, and in truth, you 
 must n't go and put it abroad that the 
 ship was scuttled ; if you do, you 
 won't hurt Joe Wjdie ; he '11 get a 
 ship and fly the country. Who you '11 
 
 hurl will be your own husband as is 
 to be, — Wardlaws." 
 
 "Shall I, Mr. Penfold ? " asked 
 Helen, disdainfully. 
 
 " Well, madam, certainly it might 
 create some unworthy suspicion." 
 
 " Suspicion ? " cried Nancy. " Don't 
 you think to throw dust in my eyes. 
 What had poor Joe to gain by de- 
 stroying that there ship ? you know 
 very well he was bribed to do it ; and 
 risk his own life. And who bribed 
 him ? Who should bribe him, but 
 the man as owned the ship 1 " 
 
 " Miss Rouse," said Mr. PenfoJd, 
 "I sympathize with your grief, and 
 make great allowance ; but I will not 
 sit here and hear my worthy employ- 
 ers blackened with such terrible in- 
 sinuations. The great house of Ward- 
 law bribe a sailor to scuttle their own 
 ship, with Miss Rolleston and one 
 hundred and sixty thousand pounds' 
 worth of gold on board ! Monstrous ! 
 monstrous ! " 
 
 " Then what did Joe Wylie mean 1 " 
 replied Nancy. " Says he, ' The poor 
 man gets all the blame. If I was to 
 tell you who tempted me,' says he, 
 'you'd hate me worse.' Then I say, 
 why should she hate him worse ? Be- 
 cause it 's her sweetheart tempted 
 mine. I stands to that." 
 
 This inference, thus worded, struck 
 Helen as so droll that she turned her 
 head aside to giggle a little. But old 
 Penfold replied loftily, — 
 
 " Who cares what a Wylie says 
 against a great old mercantile house 
 of London City ? " 
 
 "Very well,' Mr. Penfolds," said 
 Nancy, with one great final sob, and 
 dried her eyes with her apron ; and 
 she did it with such an air, they both 
 saw she was not going to shed another 
 tear about the matter. Very well ; 
 yoir are both against me ; then I '11 
 say no more. But I know what I 
 know." 
 
 " And what do you know 1 " in- 
 quired Helen. 
 
 " Time will show," said Nancy, 
 turning suddenly very dogged, — 
 " time will show."
 
 218 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Nothing more was to be got out of 
 her after that ; and Helen, soon after, 
 made her a eivil, tliough stiff, little 
 speech ; regretted the pain she had 
 madvertently eaused her, and went 
 away, leaving Mr. Pcnfold her ad- 
 dress. 
 
 On her return home, .she entered 
 the whole adventure in lier diary. 
 She made a separate entry to this 
 effect : — 
 
 ^fl/sterious. — My letter to Mr. Pen- 
 fold at tlie office intercei)tcd. 
 
 VV^ylie hints that he was bribed by 
 Messrs. Wardlaw. 
 
 Nancy Kouse suspects that it was 
 Arthur, and says time will show. 
 
 As for me, I can neither sec Avhy 
 Wylie should scuttle the ship unless 
 he was bribed by somebody, nor what 
 Arthur or bis fatlier could gain by 
 destroying that ship. This is all as 
 dark as is that more cruel mystery 
 which alone I care to solve. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIII. 
 
 Next morning, after a .sleepless 
 night, Nancy Rouse said to Mr. Pen- 
 fold, " Have n't I heard you say as 
 bank-notes could be traced to folk ? " 
 
 " Certainly, madam," said Michael : 
 "but it is necessary to take the num- 
 bers of them." 
 
 " Ob ! And how do voii do 
 that?" 
 
 " "Wliy, every note has its own 
 number." 
 
 " La ! ye don't say so ; then them 
 fifties are all numbered, belike." 
 
 " Certainly, and if you wish me to 
 take down the numbers, I will do 
 so." 
 
 "Well, sir, some other day you 
 shall. I could not bear the sight of 
 them just yet; for it is them as has 
 been the ruin of poor Joe Wvlie, I do 
 think." 
 
 Michael could not follow this ; but, 
 the question having been raised, be 
 advised her, on grounds of common 
 prudence, not to keep them in the 
 
 house without taking down theu: 
 numbers. 
 
 " We will talk about that in the 
 evening," said Nancy. 
 
 Accordingly, at night, Nancy pro- 
 duced the notes, and Michael" took 
 down the numbers and descriptions in 
 his pocket-book. Thev ran from 
 1C,444 to 16,463. And 'be ])romised 
 her to try and ascertain through what 
 hands they bad ])asscd. He said he 
 had a frieiul in the Bank of England, 
 who might pcrhajjs be able to discover 
 to what jtrivate bank they had been 
 issued in the first instance, and then 
 those bankers, on a strong represen- 
 tation, might perhaps examine their 
 books, and say to whom they had 
 paid them. He told her the notes 
 were (juite new, and evidently had 
 not been separated since their first 
 issue. 
 
 " Nancy caught a glimpse of his 
 meaning, and set herself doggedly to 
 watch until the jjerson who had 
 passed the notes through the chfmney 
 should come for them. " He will miss 
 them," said she, " you nuirk my 
 words." 
 
 Thus Helen, though reduced to a 
 stand-still herself, had set an inquiry 
 on foot which was alive and rami- 
 fying. 
 
 In the course of a few days she re- 
 ceived a visit from Mrs. Undercliff. 
 That lady canu' in, and laid a prayer- 
 book on the table, saying, " I have 
 brought it you back, miss ; and I 
 want you to do something for my 
 satisfaction." 
 
 " O, certainly," said Helen. " What 
 is it ? " 
 
 " Well, miss, first examine the book 
 and the writing. Is it all right? " 
 
 Helen examined it, and said it was : 
 " Indeed," said she. " the binding 
 looks fresher, if any tiling." 
 
 " You have a good eve," said Mrs. 
 Undercliff. " Well, wliat I want you 
 to do is — Of course JMr. Wardlaw 
 is a [;C)od deal about vou ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Docs he go to church with you 
 ever ? "
 
 FOUL PLAY, 
 
 219 
 
 " No." 
 
 " But he would, if you were to ask 
 him." 
 
 " I have no doubt he would ; but 
 why ? " 
 
 '' Manage matters so that he shall 
 go to church with you, and then put 
 the book down for him to see the 
 writint;, all in a moment. Watch his 
 face and tell me." 
 
 Helen colored up and said : " No ; 
 I can't do that. Wliy, it would be 
 turning God's temple into a trap ! 
 Besides — " 
 
 " The real reason first, if you 
 please," said this horribly shrewd 
 old woman. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Arthur Wardlaw is the 
 gentleman I am going to murry." 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " cried Mrs. Un- 
 dercliff, taken utterly aback by this 
 most unexpected turn. " Why, you 
 never told me that ! " 
 
 "No," said Helen, blushing. "I 
 did not think it necessary to go into 
 that. Well, of course, it is not in 
 human nature that Mr. Wardlaw 
 should be zealous in my good work, 
 or put himself forward; but he has 
 never refused to lend me any help 
 that was in his power; and it is 
 repugnant to my nature to suspect 
 him of a harm, and to my feelings to 
 lay a trap for him." 
 
 '" Quite right," said Mrs. Under- 
 cliff ; " of course I had no idea you 
 were going to marry Mr. Wardlaw. 
 I made sure Mr. Penfold was the 
 man." 
 
 Helen blushed higher still, but made 
 no reply. 
 
 Mrs. UnderclifF turned the conver- 
 sation directly. " My son has given 
 many hours to Mr. Hand's two let- 
 ters, and he told me to tell you he is 
 Ijeginning to doubt whether Mr. Hand 
 is a real person, with a real hand- 
 writing, at all." 
 
 "0 Mrs. Undercliff! Why, he 
 wrote me two letters! However, I 
 will ask Mr. Penfold whether Mr. 
 Hand exists or not. When shall 
 I have the pleasure of seeing you 
 again ? " 
 
 " ^'\^lenever you like, my dear 
 young lady ; but not upon this busi- 
 ness of Penfold and Wardlaw. I have 
 done with it forever ; and my advice 
 to you, miss, is not to stir the mud 
 any more." And with these mys- 
 terious words the old lady retired, 
 leaving Helen deeply discouraged at 
 her desertion. 
 
 However, she noted down the con- 
 versation in her diary, and made 
 this comment : People tind no pleas- 
 ure in jiroving an accused person 
 innocent; the charm is to detect 
 guilt. This day a good, kind friend 
 abandons me because I will not 
 turn aside from my charitable mis- 
 sion to suspect another person as 
 wrongfully as he I love has been sus- 
 pected. 
 
 Mem: To see, or make inquiries 
 about, Mr. Hand. 
 
 General RoUeston had taken a fur- 
 nished house in Hanover Square. He 
 now moved into it, and Helen was 
 compelled to busy herself in house- 
 hold aiTangements. 
 
 She made the house charming ; but 
 unfortvinately stood in a draught 
 whilst heated, and caught a chill, 
 which a year ago would very likely 
 have gone to her lungs and killed her, 
 but now settled on her limbs in vio- 
 lent neuralgic pains, and confined her 
 to her bed for a fortnight. 
 
 She suffered severely, but had the 
 consolation of finding she was ten- 
 derly beloved. Arthur sent flowers 
 every day, and affectionate notes twice 
 a day. And her father was constantly 
 by her bedside. 
 
 At last she came down to the 
 drawing-room, but lay on the sofa 
 well wrapped up, and received only 
 her most intimate friends. The neu- 
 ralgia had now settled on her right 
 arm and hand, so that she could not 
 write a letter ; and she said to herself 
 with a sigh, "O how imfit a girl is 
 to do anything great ! We always fall 
 ill just when health and strength are 
 most needed." 
 
 Nevertheless, during this period of
 
 220 
 
 FOUL PLAY, 
 
 illness and inaction, circumstances oc- 
 cuned that <rave her joy. 
 
 Old Wanllaw had long been ex- 
 erting Iiiniself in iuHueiitial channels 
 to ohtain what he called justice for 
 his tViciid Kolleston, and had received 
 some very encouraging promises ; for 
 the General's services were indispu- 
 table ; and, while he was stirring the 
 matter, Helen was unconsciously co- 
 operating by her beauty, and the 
 noise her adventure made in society. 
 At last a gentleman whose wife was 
 about the queen ])romised old Ward- 
 law one day, that, if a fair oj)i)ortu- 
 nity should occur, that lady should tell 
 Helen's adventure, and how the gal- 
 lant old General, when everybody 
 else despaired, had gone out to the 
 Pacific, and found his daughter, and 
 brought her home. This lady was a 
 courtier of ten years' standing, and 
 waited her opportunity ; but when it 
 did come, she took it, and she soon 
 found that no great tact or skill was 
 necessary on such an occasion as this. 
 She was listened to with ready sym- 
 pathy, and the very next day some 
 incpiirics were made, the result of 
 which was that the Horse Guards of- 
 fered Lieutenant - General Rolleston 
 the command of a crack regiment 
 and a full generalship. At the same 
 time, it was intinuited to him from 
 anotlier oflicial (piarter, that a baron- 
 etcy was at his service, if he felt 
 disposed to accept it. The tears 
 came into the stout old warrior's ej-es 
 at this sudden sunshine of roval fa- 
 vor, and Helen kissed old Wardlaw 
 of her own accord ; and the star of 
 the Wardlaws rose into the ascendant, 
 and for a time Hobcrt Penfold seemed 
 to be fpiitc forgotten. 
 
 The very day General Ilollcston 
 became 8ir Edward, a man and a 
 woman called at the Charing Cross 
 Hotel, and asked for Miss Helen 
 Kolleston. 
 
 The answer was, she had left the 
 hotel about ten days. 
 
 " Where is she gone, if you 
 please 1 " 
 
 " We don't know." 
 
 " Why, has n't she left her new 
 address "? " 
 
 " No. The footman came for 
 letters several times." 
 
 No information was to be got here, 
 and Mr. Tenfold and Nancy House 
 went home greatly disappointed, and 
 puzzled what to do. 
 
 At first sight it might appear easy 
 for Wr. Penfold to learn the new 
 address of iMiss Rolleston. He had 
 only to ask Arthur Wardlaw. But, 
 to tell the truth, during the last fort- 
 night Nancy House had impressed 
 her views steadily and persistently on 
 his mind, and he had also made a dis- 
 covery that co-operaied with her in- 
 fluence and arguments to undermine 
 his confidence in his employer. What 
 that discovery was we must leave him 
 to relate. 
 
 Looking, then, at matters with a 
 less unsuspicious eye than heretofore, 
 he could not help observing that 
 Arthur Wardlaw never put into the 
 office letter-box a single letter for his 
 sweetheart. He must write to her, 
 thought Michael ; but I am not to 
 know her address. Sup])Osc, after 
 all, he did intercejit that letter. 
 
 And now, like other simple, credu- 
 lous men wdiose confidence has been 
 shaken, he was literally brimful of 
 sus])icions, some of them reasonable, 
 some of them rather absurd. 
 
 He had too little art to conceal his 
 change of mind ; and so, very .soon 
 after his vain attenijit to see Helen 
 Holleston at the inn, he was bundled 
 off to Scotland on business of the of- 
 fice. 
 
 Nancy missed him sorely. She felt 
 quite alone in the woi Id. She nian- 
 a^icd to get through the day, — work 
 helped her ; but at night she sat 
 disconsolate and i)cwildcrcd, and she 
 was now beginning to doid)t her own 
 tlieory. For certainly, if all that 
 moiu-y had been Joe Wylie's, ho 
 would iuirdly have left the country 
 without it. 
 
 Now, the second evening after 
 Michael's departure, she was seated
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 221 
 
 in his room, brooding, when suddenly 
 she heard a peculiar knocking next 
 door. 
 
 She listened a little while, and then 
 stole softly down stairs to her own 
 little room. 
 
 Her suspicions were correct. It was 
 the same sort of knocking that had 
 preceded the phenomenon of the hand 
 and bank-notes. She peeped into the 
 kitchen and whispered, "Jenny — 
 Polly — come here." 
 
 A stout washerwoman and the mite 
 of a servant came, wondering. 
 
 " Now you stand there," said Nan- 
 cy, " and do as I bid you. Hold your 
 tongues, now. I know all about 
 it." 
 
 The myrmidons stood silent, but 
 with ]ianting bosoms ; for the mys- 
 terious knocking now concluded, and 
 a brick in the chimney began to 
 move. 
 
 It came out, and immediately a 
 hand with a ring on it came through 
 the aperture, and felt about. 
 
 The mite stood firm, but the big 
 washerwoman gave signs of agitation 
 that promised to end in a scream. 
 
 Nancy put her hand roughly before 
 the woman's mouth. " Hold your 
 tongue, ye great soft — " And, 
 without finishing her sentence, she 
 darted to the chimney and seized the 
 hand with both her own and pulled it 
 Avith such violence that the wrist fol- 
 lowed it through the masonry, and a 
 roar was heard. 
 
 " Hold on to my waist, Polly," she 
 cried. "Jenny, take the poker, and 
 that string, and tie his hand to it 
 while we hold on. Quick ! quick ! 
 Are ye asleep ? " 
 
 Thus adjured, the mite got the 
 poker against the wall, and tried to 
 tie the wrist to it. 
 
 This, however, was not easy, the 
 hand struggled so desperately. 
 
 However, pulling is a matter of 
 weight rather tlian muscle : and the 
 weight of the two women pulling 
 downwards overpowered the violent 
 struggles of the man ; and the mite 
 contrived to tie the poker to the wrist, 
 
 and repeat the ligatures a dozen times 
 in a figure of eight. 
 
 Then the owner of the hand, who 
 had hitherto shown violent strength, 
 taken at a disadvantage, now showed 
 intelligence. Convinced that skill as 
 well as force were against him, he 
 ceased to struggle, and became quite 
 quiet. 
 
 The women contemplated their 
 ft-at with flushed cheeks and spar- 
 kling eyes. 
 
 When they had feasted a reasonable 
 time on the imprisoned hand, and two 
 of them, true to their sex, had scru- 
 tinized a green stone upon one of the 
 fingers, to see whether it was real 
 or false, Nancy took them by the 
 shoulders, and bundled them good- 
 humorcdly out of the room. 
 
 She then lowered the gas and came 
 out, and locked the room up, and put 
 the key in her pocket. 
 
 " I '11 have my supper with you," 
 said she. " Come, Jenny, I 'm cook ; 
 and you make the kitchen as a body 
 could cat off it, for I expect visitors." 
 
 "La, ma'am," said the mite; "he 
 can't get out of the cbimbly to visit 
 hus through the street door." 
 
 " No, girl," said Nancy. " But he 
 can send a hambassador ; so Show 
 her heyes and plague her art, as the 
 play says, for of all the dirty kitchens 
 give me hers. I never was there but 
 once, and my slipper come off for the 
 muck, a sticking to a body like bird- 
 lime." 
 
 There was a knock at Nancy's 
 street door ; the little servant, full of 
 curiosity, was for running to it on the 
 instant. But Nancy checked her. 
 
 " Take your time," said she. " It 
 is only a lodging-house-keeper." 
 
 CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 Sir Edward Rolleston could 
 not but feel his obligations to the 
 Wardlaws, and, when his daughter 
 got better, he spoke warmly on the
 
 222 
 
 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 subject, and asked her to consider 
 seriously wlietlier slie liad not tried 
 Arthur's art'ection sufficiently. 
 
 " He does not complain to you, I 
 know," said he ; " liut he feels it very 
 hard that you should jninish him for 
 an act of injustice that has already so 
 deeply artiicted him. He says he be- 
 lieves some fool or villain heard him 
 say that two thousand pounds was to 
 be borrowed between them, and went 
 aiul imposed on Robert Penfold's 
 credulity ; meaning, jierhajjS, to call 
 again after the note had been cashed, 
 and get Arthur's share of the mou- 
 
 "But why did he not come for- 
 ward ? " 
 
 " He declares he did not know when 
 the trial was till a month after : and his 
 father bears him out ; says he was 
 actually delirious, and bis life in dan- 
 ger. I myself can testify that he was 
 cut down just in this way when he 
 heard the I'roserpine was lost, and 
 j-ou on board her. Why not give 
 him credit for the same genuine dis- 
 tress at young Pcnfold's misfortune ? 
 Come, Helen, is it fair to afflict and 
 punish this gentleman for the mis- 
 fortune of another, whom he never 
 speaks of but with affection and pity'' 
 He says that if you would marry him 
 at once, he thinks he should feel 
 strong cnougli to throw himself into 
 the case with you, anil would sjiare 
 neither money nor labor to clear Rob- 
 ert Penfold ; but, as it is, he says he 
 feels so wretched, and so tortured with 
 jealousy, that he can't co-operate 
 warmly witli you, though his con- 
 science reproaches him every day. 
 Poor young man ! His is really a 
 very hard case. For you i)romised 
 him vour hand before vou ever saw 
 Kobert Penfold." 
 
 " I did," said Helen ; " but I did 
 not say when. Let me have one year 
 to my good work, before I devote my 
 whole life to Arthur." 
 
 " Well, it will be a year wasted. 
 Why postj)onc your maiTiage for 
 that"?" 
 
 "I promised." 
 
 " Yes, but he chose to f^mcy young 
 "Wardlaw is his enemy. You might 
 relax that, now he tells you he will 
 co-0])eratc with you as your husband. 
 Now, Helen, tell the truth, — is it a 
 woman's work '. Have you found it 
 so ? Will not Arthur do it better 
 than you ? " 
 
 Helen, weakened already by days 
 of suiFcring, began to crv, and say, 
 "What shall I do? what shall" I 
 do?" 
 
 " If you have any doubt, mv dear," 
 said »Sir Edward, " then tliiuk of 
 what / owe to these Wardlaws." 
 
 And with that he kissed her, and 
 left her in tears ; and, soon after, sent 
 Arthur himself up to plead his own 
 cause. 
 
 It was a fine summer afternoon ; 
 the long French ca'<ements, looking 
 on the garden of the Sipiare, were 
 open, and the balmy air came in and 
 wooed the beautiful girl's cheek, and 
 just stirred her hair at times. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw came softly in, 
 and gazed at her as she lay ; her love- 
 liness tilled his heart and soul ; he 
 came and knelt by her sofa, and 
 took her biuul, aiul kissed it, and his 
 own eyes glistened with tenderness. 
 
 He had one thing in his favor. lie 
 loved her. 
 
 Her knowledge of this had more 
 than once befriended him, and made 
 her refuse to sus])eethim of any great 
 ill ; it befriended him now. She 
 turned a look of angelic pity on 
 him. 
 
 " Poor Arthur ! " she said. " You 
 and I are both nnhapi)y." 
 
 " But we shall lie happy, erelong, 
 I ho])e," said Arthur. 
 
 Helen shook her head. 
 
 Then he patted her, and coaxed her, 
 and said he would be her servant, as 
 well as a husband, and no wish other 
 heart should go ungratified. 
 
 " None 1 " said she, fixing her eyes 
 on him. 
 
 " Not one," said he ; " upon my 
 honor." 
 
 Then lie was-so soft and persuasive, 
 and alluded so delicately to her plight-
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 223 
 
 ed faith, that she felt like a poor bird 
 caught in a silken net. 
 
 " Sir Edward is very good," said 
 he ; " he feels for me." 
 
 At that moment, a note was sent up. 
 
 " Mr. Wardlaw is here, and has 
 asked mc when the marriage is to be. 
 I can't tell him ; I look like a fool." 
 
 Helen sighed deeply and had begun 
 to gather those tears that weaken a 
 woman. She glanced despairingly to 
 and fio : and saw no escape. Then, 
 Heaven knows why or wherefore, — 
 probably with no clear design at all 
 but a woman's weak desire to cause a 
 momentary diversion, to put off the 
 inevitable for five minutes, — she said 
 to Arthur : " Please give me that 
 prayer-book. Thank you. It is right 
 you should know this." And she put 
 Cooper's deposition, and Welch's, into 
 his hands. 
 
 He devoured them, and started up 
 in great indignation. " It is an 
 abominable slander," said he. " We 
 have lost ten thousand pounds by the 
 wreck of that ship, and Wylie's life 
 was saved by a miracle as well as 
 your own. It is a foul slander. I 
 hurl it from me." And he made his 
 words good by whirling the prayer- 
 book out of window. 
 
 Helen uttered a scream. " My 
 mother's prayer-book ! " she cried. 
 
 " Oh ! I beg pardon," said he. 
 
 "As well you may," said she. 
 " Run and send George after it." 
 
 " No, I '11 go myself," said he. 
 " Pray forgive me : you don't know 
 what a teiTible slander they have 
 desecrated your prayer-book with." 
 
 He ran out and was a long time 
 gone. He came back at last, looking 
 terrified. 
 
 " I can't find it," said he : " some- 
 body has carried it off. how un- 
 fortunate I am ! " 
 
 " Not find it ! " said Helen. " But 
 it must be found." 
 
 " Of course it must be found," 
 said Arthur. " A pretty scandal to 
 go into the hands of Heaven knows 
 who. I shall offer twenty guineas 
 reward for it at once. I '11 n:o down 
 
 to the Times this moment. Was ever 
 anything so unlucky 1 " 
 
 "Yes, go at once," said Helen; 
 " and I '11 send the servants into the 
 Squai'e. I don't want to say any- 
 thing unkind, Arthur, but you ought 
 not to have thrown my prayer-book 
 into the public street." 
 
 " I know I ought not. I am ashamed 
 of it myself" 
 
 " Well, let me see the advertise- 
 ment." 
 
 " You shall. I have no doubt we 
 shall recover it." 
 
 Next morning the Times contained 
 an advertisement offering twenty 
 guineas for a prayer-book lost in 
 Hanover Square, and valuable, not in 
 itself, but as a relic of a deceased 
 parent. 
 
 In the afternoon Arthur called to 
 know if anybody had brought the 
 prayer-book back. 
 
 Helen shook her head sadly, and 
 said, " No." 
 
 He seemed very sorry and so peni- 
 tent, that Helen said, — 
 
 "Do not despair. And if it is 
 gone, why, I must remember you 
 have forgiven me something, and I 
 must forgive you." 
 
 The footman came in. 
 
 " If you please, miss, here is a 
 woman wishes to speak to yon ; says 
 she has brought a prayer-book." 
 
 " O, show her tip at once," cried 
 Helen. 
 
 Arthur turned awaj^ his head to 
 hide a cynical smile. He had good 
 reasons for thinking it was not the 
 one he had flung out of the window 
 yesterday. 
 
 A tall woman came in, w^caring a 
 thick veil, that concealed her fea- 
 tures. 
 
 She entered on her business at 
 once. 
 
 " Y^ou lost a prayer-book in this 
 Square vestei'day, madam." 
 
 " YW." 
 
 "You offer twenty guineas reward 
 for it." 
 
 " Y'es." 
 
 " Please to look at this one."
 
 224 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Helen examined it, and said with 
 joy it was hers. 
 
 Artliur was thunder-struck. He 
 could not believe his senses. 
 
 " Let me look at it," said he. 
 
 His eyes went at once to the writ- 
 ing. He turned as pale as death, and 
 stood jjc trilled. 
 
 The woman took the prayer-book 
 out of his unresisting hand, and 
 said, — 
 
 " You '11 excuse me, sir ; hut it is 
 a large reward, .and gentlefolks some- 
 times go from their word when the 
 article is found." 
 
 Helen, who was delighted at get- 
 ting back her book, and rather tickled 
 at Arthur having to pay twenty 
 guineas for losing it, burst out laugh- 
 ing, and said, — 
 
 " Give her the reward, Arthur ; I 
 am not going to pay for your mis- 
 deeds." 
 
 " With all my heart," said Arthur, 
 struggling for composure. 
 
 He sat down to draw a check, 
 
 " What name shall I put 1 " 
 
 " Hum ! Edith Hesket." 
 
 " Two t's ? " 
 
 " No, only one." 
 
 "There." 
 
 " Thank yon, sir. 
 
 She put the check into her purse, 
 and brought the prayer-book to 
 Helen. 
 
 " Lock it up at once," said she, in 
 a voice so low that Arthur heard her 
 murmur, but not the -vvords : and she 
 retired, leaving Helen staring with 
 amazement, and Arthur in a cold 
 perspiration. 
 
 CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 WiiE>f the Springbok weighed an- 
 chor and left the island, a solitary 
 form was seen on Tclegraj)!! Hill. 
 
 When she passed eastward, out of 
 sight of that point, a solitary figure 
 was seen on the cliffs. 
 
 When her course brought the island 
 dead astern of her, a solitary figure 
 stood on the east bluff of the" island, 
 
 and was the last object seen from 
 the boat as she left those waters for- 
 ever. 
 
 What words can tell the sickening 
 sorrow and utter desolation that pos- 
 sessed that yearning bosom ! 
 
 When tlic boat that had carried 
 Helen away was out of sight, he 
 came back with uneven steps to the 
 cave, and looked at all the familiar 
 olyects with stony eyes, and scarce 
 recognized them, for the sunshine 
 of her presence was there no more. 
 He wandered to and fro in a heavy 
 stupor, broken every now and then 
 by sharp pangs of agony that almost 
 made him scream. And so the poor 
 bereaved creature wandered about all 
 day. He could not eat, he could not 
 sleep, his misery was more than he 
 could bear. One'day of desolation suc- 
 ceeded another. And what men say 
 so hastily was true for once. " His 
 life was a burden." He dragged it 
 about with him he scarce "knew 
 how. 
 
 He begiin to hate all the things he 
 had loved whilst she was there. The 
 beautiful cave, all glorious with pearl, 
 that he had made for her, he could 
 not enter it, the sight killed him, and 
 she not there. 
 
 Lie left Paradise Bay altogether at 
 last, and anchored his boat in a nook 
 of Seal B.ay. And there he slept in 
 general. But sometimes he would 
 lie down, wherever he happened to 
 be, and sleep as long as he could. 
 
 To him to wake was a calamity. 
 And, when he did wake, it was always 
 with a dire sense of reviving misery, 
 and a deep sigh at the dark day he 
 knew awaited him. 
 
 His flesh wasted on his bones, and 
 his clothes hung loosely about him. 
 The sorrow of the mind reduced him 
 almost to that miserable condition in 
 which he had landed on the island. 
 
 The dog and the seal were faithful 
 to him ; used to lie i)esi<le bini, and 
 often whimpered ; their minds, accus- 
 tomed to CDiiinuiiiicate without the aid 
 of speech, found out. Heaven knows
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 225 
 
 how ! that he was in grief or in sick- 
 ness. 
 
 These two creatures, perhaps, 
 saved his hfe or his reason. They 
 came between his bereaved heart and 
 utter solitude. 
 
 Thus passed a month of wretched- 
 ness unspeakal)le. 
 
 Then his grief took a less sullen 
 form. 
 
 .He came back to Paradise Bay, 
 and at sight of it burst into a passion 
 of weeping. 
 
 These were his first tears, and in- 
 augurated a grief more tender than 
 ever, but less akin to madness and 
 despair. 
 
 Now he used to go about and cry 
 her name aloud, passionately, by 
 niglit and dav. 
 
 " O Helen f Helen ! " 
 
 And next his mind changed in one 
 respect, and he clung to every re- 
 miniscence of her. Every morning 
 he went round her haunts, and kissed 
 every place where he had seen her put 
 her hand. 
 
 Only the cave he could not yet 
 face. 
 
 He tried, too. He went to the 
 mouth of it again and again, and 
 looked in ; but go into it and face 
 it, empty of her, — he could not. 
 
 He pra^^ed often. 
 
 One night he saw her in a dream. 
 
 She bent a look of angelic pity on 
 him, and said but these words, " Live 
 in my cave," then vanished. 
 
 Alone on an island in the vast 
 Pacific, who can escape superstition ? 
 It fills the air. He took this com- 
 munication as a command, and the 
 next night he slept in the cave. 
 
 But he entered it in the dark, and 
 left it before dawn. 
 
 By degrees, however, he j^lueked up 
 courage and faced it in daylight. But 
 it was a sad trial : he came out crying 
 bitterly after a few minutes. 
 
 Still he persevered, because her 
 
 image had bade liim ; nnd at la>t, 
 
 one evening, he even lighted the 
 
 lamp, and sat there looking at the 
 
 15 
 
 glorious walls and roof his hapless 
 love had made. 
 
 Getting stronger by degrees, he 
 searched about, and found little relics 
 of her, — a glove, a needle, a great 
 hat she had nmde out of some large 
 leaves. All these he wept over and 
 cherished. 
 
 But one day he found at the very 
 back of the cave a relic that made him 
 start as if a viper had stung his loving 
 heart. It was a letter. 
 
 He knew it in a moment. It had 
 already caused him many a pang ; 
 but now it almost drove him mad. 
 Arthur Wardlaw's letter. 
 
 He recoiled from it, and let it lie. 
 He went out of the cave, and cursed 
 his hard fate. But he came back. 
 It was one of those horrible things a 
 man abhors, yet cannot keep away 
 from. He took it up and dashed it 
 down with rage many times ; but it 
 all ended in his lighting t'.ic lamp at 
 night, and torturing himself with 
 every word of ihat loving letter. 
 
 And she was going home to the 
 writer of that letter, and he was left 
 prisoner on the island. He cursed his 
 generous lolly, and writhed in agony 
 at the thought. He raged wiih jeal- 
 ousy, so that his very grief was 
 blunted for a time. 
 
 He felt as if he must go mad. 
 
 Then he j)rayed, — prayed fervent- 
 ly. And at last, worn out with such 
 fierce and contending emotions, he fell 
 into a deep sleep, and did not wake till 
 the sun was high in heaven. 
 
 He woke ; and ihe first thing he saw 
 was the fatal letter lying at his feet in 
 a narrow stream of sunshine that 
 came peering in. 
 
 He eyed it with horror. This was 
 then to haunt him by night and day. 
 
 He eyed it and eyed it. Then 
 turned his face from it ; but could 
 not help ejnng it again. 
 
 And at last certain words in this 
 letter seemed to him to bear an 
 affinity to another ])iece of writing 
 that had also caused him a great woe. 
 Memory bj^ its subtle links connect- 
 ed these two enemies of his together.
 
 226 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 He eyed it still more keenly, and that 
 iiii])rcs.sion bcciune strfnpthened. He 
 took the letter and looked at it close, 
 and lielil it at arm's lens'ih, and de- 
 voured it ; and the eftect of tiiis keen 
 examination was very remarkable. 
 It seemed to restore the man to en- 
 ergy and to something like hope. 
 His eyes sparkled, antl a triumphant 
 "Ah!" burst from his bosom. 
 
 lie beeame once more a man of 
 action. He rose, and bathed, and 
 walked rapidly to and fro upon the 
 sands, working liiniself up tea daring 
 enterprise. He took liis saw itito the 
 jungle, and cut down a tree of a kind 
 common enough there. It was won- 
 derfully soft, and almost as light as 
 cork. The wood of this was literally 
 useless for any other purpose than 
 that to which Penfold destined it. 
 He cut a great many blocks of this 
 wood, and drilled holes in them, and, 
 having hundreds of yards of good line, 
 attached these qiuisi corks to the gun- 
 wale, so as to make a life-boat. This 
 work took him several days, during 
 which time an event occurred that en- 
 couraged him. 
 
 One morning he saw about a mil- 
 lion birds very Itusy in the bay, and 
 it ])roved to be a spermaceti whale 
 come ashore. 
 
 He went out to her directly with all 
 his tools, for he wanted oil for his en- 
 ter jirise, and the seal oil was exhaust- 
 ed. 
 
 When he got near the whale in his 
 boat, he oliserved a harpoon sticking 
 in the animal's l)ack. He cut steps 
 with his axe in the slippery carcass, 
 and got up to it as well as he could, 
 extracted it by cutting and i)ulling, 
 and threw it down into his boat, but 
 not till he had taken the precaution 
 to stick a great jnecc of blubber on 
 the barbed point. He then sawed 
 and harked under difficulties, being 
 butfeted and bothered with thousands 
 of birds, so eager for slices, that it 
 was as much as lie coidd do to avoid 
 the making of minced fowl ; hut, true 
 to his gentle creed, he contrived to 
 get three hundred-weight of blubber 
 
 without downright killing any of 
 these greedy competitors, though he 
 buffeted some of them, and nearly 
 knocked out what little sense they 
 had. He came ashore with his blub- 
 ber and har])Oon, and when lie came 
 to examine the latter, he found that 
 the name of the owner was cut deep- 
 ly in the steel, — Josh. Fullalove, J. 
 Fernandez. This inscrijiticm had a 
 great etiect on Hobert reni'old's mind. 
 It seemed to bring the island of Juan 
 Fernandez, and humanity in general, 
 nearer to him. 
 
 He boiled down the blubber, and 
 put a barrel of oil on board his life- 
 boat. He had a ship's lantern to burn 
 it in. He also pitched her bottom as 
 far as he could get at it, and provis- 
 ioned her for a long voyage ; taking 
 care to lash the water-cask and beef- 
 cask to the fore-thwart and foremast, 
 ill case of rough weather. 
 
 When he had dijue all this, it oc- 
 curred to him suddenly, that, should 
 he ever eseajie the winds and waves, 
 and get to England, he would then 
 have to encounter difficulties and dan- 
 gers of another class, and lose the bat- 
 tle by his jjoverty. 
 
 " I play my last stake now," said 
 he. " I will throw no chance away." 
 
 He reflected, with great bitterness, 
 on the misery that want of money had 
 already brought on him ; and he vowed 
 to reach England rich, or go to the 
 bottom of the Pacitic. 
 
 This may seem a strange vow for a 
 man to make on an unknown island ; 
 but Kobert Penfold had a jiowerful 
 understanding, sharpened by adversi- 
 tv, and his judgment told him truly 
 that he possessed wealth on this 
 island, both directly and indirectly. 
 In the first place, knowledge is some- 
 times wealth, and the knowledge of 
 this island was a thing he could sell 
 to the American merchants on the 
 coast of Chili ; and, with this vicAv, he 
 ]nit on board his l)oat specimens of the 
 cassia and other Moods, fruit, spices, 
 pitch, guano, ]iink and red coral, 
 ])earl oysters, shells, cochineal, quartz, 
 cotton, &c., &c.
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 227 
 
 Then he took his chisel, and struck 
 all the larger pearls off the shells that 
 lined Helen's cave. The walls and 
 roof yielded nine enormous jjearls, 
 thirty large ones, and a great many 
 of the usual size. 
 
 He made a pocket inside his waist- 
 coat to hold the pearls safe. 
 
 Then he took his spade and dug 
 into the Spanish ship for treasure. 
 But this was terrible work. The 
 sand returned upon the spade and 
 trebled his labor. 
 
 The condition to which time and 
 long submersion had i-educed this 
 shi]) and cargo was truly remarkable. 
 Nothing to be seen of the deck but a 
 thin brown streak that mingled with 
 the sand in patches ; of the timbers 
 nothing but the uprights, and of those 
 the larger half eaten and dissolved. 
 
 He dug five days, and found noth- 
 ing solid. 
 
 On the sixth, being now at tlie bot- 
 tom of the ship, he struck his spade 
 against something hard and heav}'. 
 
 On inspection it looked like ore, 
 but of what metal he could not tell ; 
 it was as black as a coal. He threw 
 this on one side, and found nothing 
 more ; but the next day he turned up 
 a smaller fragment, whicii he took 
 home and cleaned with lime-juice. 
 It came out bright in places like 
 silver. 
 
 This discovery threw litrht on the 
 other. The piece of black ore, weigh- 
 ing about seven pounds, was in reality 
 silver coin, that a century of submer- 
 sion had reduced to the very appear- 
 ance it wore before it ever went into 
 the furnace. 
 
 He dug with fresh energy on this 
 discovery, but found nothing more in 
 the ship that day. 
 
 Then it occurred to him to carry 
 off a few hundred-weight of pink 
 coral. 
 
 He got some fine specimens ; and, 
 while he was at that work, he fell in 
 with a piece that looked very solid at 
 the root and unnaturally heavy. On 
 a nearer examination this jtroved to 
 be a foreign substance incrusted with 
 
 coral. It had twined and twisted and 
 curled over the thing in a most un- 
 heard-of way. Robert took it home, 
 and, by rubbing here and there with 
 lemon-juice, at last satisfied himself 
 that this object was a silver box about 
 the size of an octavo volume. 
 
 It had no keyhole, had evidently 
 been soldered up for greater security, 
 and Robert was left to conjecture how 
 it had come there. 
 
 Ho connected it at once with the 
 ship, and felt assured that some at- 
 tempt had been made to save it. 
 There it had lain by the side of the 
 vessel all these years, but, falling 
 clear of the sand, had been embraced 
 by the growing coral, and was now a 
 curiosity, if not a treasure. 
 
 He would not break the coral, but 
 put it on board his life-boat just as it 
 was. 
 
 And now he dug no more. He 
 thought he could sell the galleon as 
 well as the island, by sample, and he 
 was impatient to be gone. 
 
 He reproached himself, a little un- 
 justly, for allowing a woman to un- 
 dertake the task of clearing him. 
 
 " To what annoj'anccs, and perhaps 
 affronts, have I exposed her," said he. 
 " No, it is a mair's business to defend, 
 not to be defended." 
 
 To conclude : At high tide one 
 fine afternoon he went on board with 
 Ponto, and, hoisting his foresail only, 
 crossed the bay, ranging along the 
 island till he reached the bluff. He 
 got under this, and, by means of his 
 compass and previous observations, 
 set the boat's head exactly on the line 
 the ducks used to take. Then he set 
 his mainsail too, and stretched boldly 
 out across the great Pacific Ocean. 
 
 Time seems to wear out everything, 
 even bad luck. It ran strong against 
 Robert Penfold for years : but, when 
 it had struck its worst blow, and 
 parted him and Helen Rolleston, it 
 relaxed, and a tide of good luck set 
 in, which, unfortunately, the broken- 
 hearted man could not appreciate at 
 the time. Howevei', so it was. He
 
 228 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 r 
 
 wanted oil ; ami a whale came ashore. 
 IIo waiitL'd trcasuiv, and the sea <;avc 
 him a liltle l)ac-k of all it had .swal- 
 loweil ; and now he wanted fine 
 weather ; and the oeean for days and 
 nights wa.-j like peaeh-colored glass, 
 dim])led here and there; and soft 
 westerly airs fanned him along by 
 night aiul day. 
 
 To be sure, he was on the true 
 Pacitie Oeean, at a period when it is 
 really free from storms. Still, even 
 lor that latitude, he had wonderful 
 weather for six days ; and on the 
 seventh he fell in with a schooner, 
 the ski])per and crew of which looked 
 over the bulwarks at him with won- 
 der and cordiality, and, casting out a 
 rope astern, took him in tow. 
 
 The skipper had been eying him 
 with amazement for some hours 
 through his telescope; but he was a 
 man that had seen a great many 
 strange things, and it was also a 
 point of honor with him never to al- 
 low that he was astonished, or taken 
 by surprise, or greatly moved. 
 
 "Wul, stranger," "said he, "what 
 craft is that ? " 
 
 " The Helen." 
 
 " Where d' ye hail from ? not that 
 I am curious." 
 
 " From an unknown island." 
 
 "Do tell. AVhat, another! Is it 
 anyways nigh ? " 
 
 " Not within .seven hundred miles." 
 
 "Je — rusalem ! Have you sailed 
 all that in a cockle-shell 1 " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Why, Avhat arc ye ? the Wander- 
 ing Jew afloat, or the Ancient Mari- 
 ner % or only a kinder nautilus ? " 
 
 " I 'm a landsman." 
 
 " A landsman ! then so is Neptune. 
 "What is your name when you are 
 ashore ? " 
 
 " Robert Penfold. The Reverend 
 Robert Penfold." 
 
 "The Reverend — Je — rusa- 
 lem ! " 
 
 " May I ask what is vour name, 
 sir ? " 
 
 " Wal, I reckon j-ou may, stranger. 
 I 'm Joshua FuUalovc from the States, 
 
 at present located on the island of 
 Juan Fernandez ! " 
 
 " Joshua FuUalove ! That is lucky. 
 I 've got something that belongs to 
 you." 
 
 He looked about, and found the 
 harpoon, and handed it uj) in a mighty 
 straightforward simple way. 
 
 Joshua stared at him incredulously 
 at lirst, but afterwards with amaze- 
 ment. He handled the harpoon, and 
 inquired where Robert had fallen in 
 with it. Robert told him. 
 
 " You 're an honest man," said 
 Fnllalove, " you air. Come aboard." 
 He was then pleased to congratulate 
 himself on his strange luck in having 
 drifted across an honest man in the 
 middle of the ocean. " I 've hcerd," 
 said he, " of an old cha]) as groped 
 about all his life with a lantern, and 
 could n't find one. Let 's liquor." 
 
 He had some celestial mixture or 
 other made, including rum, mint, and 
 snow from the Andes, and then be- 
 gan his interrogatories, again dis- 
 claiming curiosity at set intervals. 
 
 " Whither bound, honest man 1 " 
 
 " The coast of Chili." 
 
 "Wliat for?" 
 
 " Trade." 
 
 " D' ye buy or sell ? Not that it is 
 my business." 
 
 "" I wish to sell." 
 
 " Wliat 's the merchandise? " 
 
 " Knowledge, and treasure." 
 
 Fnllalove scratclied his head. 
 " Hain't ye got a few conundrums 
 to swap for gold dust as well ? " 
 
 Robett smiled faintly : the first 
 time this six weeks. 
 
 " I have to sell the knowledge of 
 an island with rich products : and I 
 have to sell the contents of a Spanish 
 treasure-ship that I found buried in 
 the sand of that island. 
 
 The Yaid-;ee's eyes glistened. 
 
 " Wal," said he, " I do business in 
 islands myself. I 've leased this Juan 
 Fernandez. But one of them is 
 enough at a time. I 'm monarch of 
 all I survey : but then what I survey 
 is a mixallancous bilin' of Irish and 
 Otaheitans, that it 's pizen to be mon-
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 229 
 
 arcli of. And now them darned Irish 
 has taken to converting the heathens 
 to superstition and the worship of im- 
 ages, and breaks their heads if tliey 
 won't; and the heathens arc all smiles 
 and sweetness and immorality. No, 
 islands is no bait to me." 
 
 " I never asked you," said Robert. 
 " Wiiat I do ask you is to land me at 
 Valparaiso. There I'll find a pur- 
 chaser, and will pay you handsomely 
 for your kindness." ♦ 
 
 "That is fair," said Fullalove, dry- 
 ly. " What will you pay mo 1 " 
 
 " I '11 show you," said Robert. He 
 took out of his pocket the smaller 
 conglomeration of Spanisli coin, and 
 put it into Fullalove's liand. " That," 
 said liL^, "is silver coin I dug out of 
 the galleon." 
 
 Fullalove inspected it keenly, and 
 trembled slighth. Robert then went 
 lightl}' over the taffrail, and slid down 
 the low rope into his boat. He held 
 up the black mass we have described. 
 
 " This is solid silver. I will give 
 it you, and my best thanks, to land 
 me at Valparaiso." 
 
 " Heave it aboard," said the Yankee. 
 
 Robert steadied himself, and hove 
 it on board. The Yankee caught it, 
 heavy as it was, and subjected it to 
 some chemical test directly. 
 
 " Wal," said he, " that is a bargain. 
 I '11 land ye at Valparaiso for this. 
 Jack, lay her head S. S. E. and 
 by E." 
 
 Having given this order, he leaned 
 over the taffrail and asked for more 
 samples. Robert showed him the 
 fruits, woods, and shells, and the pink 
 coral, and bade him observe that the 
 boat was ballasted with pearl oysters. 
 He threw him up one, and a bunch of 
 pink coral. He then shinned up the 
 rope again, and the interrogatories 
 recommenced. But this time he was 
 questioned closely as to who he was, 
 and how he came on the island '? and 
 the questions Avero so shrewd and 
 pr^nstrating that his fortitude gave 
 v/ay, and he cried out in anguish, 
 "Man, man! do not torture me so. 
 do not make me talk of my grief 
 
 and my wrongs ! they are more than 
 I can bear." 
 
 i'ullalove forbore directly, and of- 
 fered him a cigar. He took it, and 
 it soothed him a little ; it was long 
 since he had smoked one. His agita- 
 tion subsided, and a quiet tear or two 
 rolled down his haggard cheek. 
 
 The Yankee saw, and kept silence. 
 
 But, when the cigar was nearly 
 smoked out, he said he was afraid 
 Robert would not find a customer for 
 his island, and what a pity Joshua 
 Fullalove was cool on islands just 
 now. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Robert, " I know- 
 there are enterprising Americans on 
 the coast who will give me mouey 
 for what I have to sell." 
 
 Fullalove was silent a minute, then 
 he got a piece of wood and a knife, 
 and said, with an air of resignation, 
 " I reckon we '11 have to deal." 
 
 Need we say that to deal had been 
 his eager desire from the first ? 
 
 He now began to whittle a peg, 
 and awaited the attack. 
 
 " What will you give me, sir 1 " 
 
 " What, money down 1 And you 
 got nothing to sell but chances. 
 Why, there 's an old cuss about that 
 knows where the island is as well as 
 you do." 
 
 " Then of course you will treat 
 with him," said Robert, sadly. 
 
 " Darned if I do," said the Yan- 
 kee. " You arc in trouble, and he is 
 not, nor never will be till he dies, and 
 then he '11 get it hot, I calc'late. He 
 is a thief and stole my harpoon : you 
 are an honest man and brought it 
 back. I reckon I '11 deal with you 
 and not with that old cuss ; not by a 
 jugful ! But it must be on a per- 
 centage. You tell me the bearings 
 of that there island, and I '11 woi'k it 
 and pay five per cent on the gross." 
 
 " Would you mind throwing that 
 piece of wood into the sea, Mr. Fulla- 
 love "? " said Robert. 
 
 " Caen't be done, nohow. I caen't 
 deal without whittlin'." 
 
 " You mean you can't take an un- 
 fair advantage without it. Come,
 
 230 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Mr. Fullalove, let us cut this short. I 
 am, as you say, an honest and most 
 unfortunate man. Sir, I was falsely 
 accused of a crime and banished my 
 country. I can prove my innocence 
 now if I can but get liomc with a 
 great deal of money. So much for 
 7ne. You arc a member of the vain- 
 est and most generous nation in the 
 world." 
 
 " Wal, now that 's kinder honey 
 and vinegar mixed," said Fullalove ; 
 " pretty good for a Britisher, 
 though." 
 
 " You arc a man of that nation 
 which in ail the agonies and un])aral- 
 li'led expenses of civil war, smarting, 
 too, under anonymous taunts from 
 England, did yet send over a large 
 stim to relieve the distresses of cer- 
 tain poor Englishmen who M-cre in- 
 direct victims of that same calamity. 
 The act, the time, the misery relieved, 
 the taunts overlooked, prove your 
 nation superior to all others in gener- 
 osity. At least my reading, which is 
 very large, affords no parallel to it, 
 either in ancient or modern history. 
 Mr. Fullalove, please to recollect that 
 you are a member of that nation, 
 and that I am verv unhappy and 
 heljiless, and want money to undo 
 cruel wrongs, but have no heart to 
 chaffer nluch. Take the island and 
 the treasures, and give me half the 
 profits you make. Is not that fair ? " 
 Fullalove wore a rueful counte- 
 nance. 
 
 " Darn the critter," said he, " he '11 
 take skin off my bones if I don't 
 mind. Fust Britisher ever I met as 
 had the sense to see tliat. 'T was 
 ratthcr handsome, warn't it ? Wal, 
 human nature is deep ; every man 
 you tackle in business larns ye some- 
 thing. What with jticking ye out o' 
 the sea, and you giving me back the 
 harpoon the cuss stole, and your face 
 like a young calf, when you are the 
 'cutest fox out, and you giving the 
 great L^nited States their due, I 'm 
 no more tit to deal than mashed po- 
 tatoes. Now I cave ; it is only for 
 once. Next time, don't you tvy to 
 
 palaver mc. Draw me a map of our 
 island, Britisher, and mark where the 
 Sj)aniard lies : I tell you I know her 
 name, and the year she was lost in : 
 larned that at Lima one day. Kinder 
 startled me, you did, when you 
 showed me the coin out of her. Wal, 
 there 's my hand on haelf profits, 
 and, if I'm keen, I'm squar'." 
 
 Soon after this he led Robert to his 
 cabin, and Robert drew a large map 
 from his models ; and Fullalove, be- 
 ing himself an excellent draughts- 
 man, and i)rovi(led with proper in- 
 struments, aided him to finish it. 
 
 Next day they sighted Valparaiso, 
 and hove to outside the port. 
 
 All the specimens of insular wealth 
 were put on board the schooner and 
 secreted ; for Fullalove's first move 
 was to get a lease of the island from 
 the Chilian government, and it was 
 no part of his plan to trumpet the 
 article he was going to buy. 
 
 After a moment's hesitation, he 
 declined to take the seven pounds of 
 silver. He gave as a reason, that, 
 having made a bargain which com- 
 pelled him to go to Valjtaraiso at once, 
 he did not feel like charging his part- 
 ner a fancy price for towing his boat 
 thither. At the same time he hinted 
 that, after all this, the next customer 
 would find him a very difficult Yan- 
 kee to get the better of. 
 
 With this understanding, he gave 
 Robert a draft for £80 on account of 
 l)r<ifits ; and this enal)led him to take 
 a jiassage for England with all his 
 belongings. 
 
 He arrived at Southampton very 
 soon after the events last related, anil 
 thence went to London, fully alive to 
 the danger of his ])(jsition. 
 
 He had a friend in his long beard, 
 but he dared iu)t rely on that alone. 
 Like a mole, he worked at night. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVL 
 
 Helen asked Arthur Wardlaw 
 why he was so surprised at the
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 231 
 
 praycv-book being brougli t back. Was 
 it worth twenty ponuds to any one 
 except herself? 
 
 Arthur looked keenl\- at her to see 
 whether slie intended more than met 
 the ear, and then said that he was 
 surprised at the rapid effect of his 
 advertisement, that was all. 
 
 " Now you have got the book," 
 said he, " I do hope you will erase 
 that cruel slander on one whom you 
 me:in to honor with your liand." 
 
 This proposal made Helen blush, 
 and feel very miserable. Of the ob- 
 noxious lines some were written by 
 Rohert Penfold, and she had so little 
 of his dear handwriting. " I feel you 
 are right, Arthur," said she; "but 
 you must give me time. Then, they 
 shall meet no eye but mine ; and on 
 our wedding-day — of course — all 
 memorials of one — " Tears com- 
 pleted the sentence. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw, raging with 
 jealousy at the absent Penfold, as 
 hererofore Penfold had raged at him, 
 heaved a deep sigh and hurried away, 
 while flelen was locking up the 
 prayer-book in licr desk. By this 
 means he retained Helen's pity. 
 
 He went home directly, mounted to 
 his bedroom, unlocked a safe, and 
 plunged his hand into it. His hand 
 encountered a book ; he drew it out 
 with a shiver, and gazed at it with 
 terror and amazement. 
 
 It was the prayer-book he had 
 picked up in the Square and locked 
 uj) in that safe. Yet that very prayer- 
 book had been restored to Helen be- 
 fore his eyes, and was now locked up 
 in her desk. He sat down with the 
 book in his hand, and a great dread 
 came over him. 
 
 Hitherto Candor and Credulity 
 only had been opposed to him, but 
 now Cunning had entered the field 
 against him ; a master-hand was co- 
 operating with Helen. 
 
 Yet, strange to say, she seemed un- 
 conscious of that co-operation. Had 
 Robert Penfold found his way home 
 by some strange means ? Was he 
 watching over her in secret 1 
 
 He had the woman he loved 
 watched night and day, but no 
 Robert Penfold was detected. 
 
 He jjuzzlcd his brain night and day, 
 and at last he conceived a plan of de- 
 ceit which is common enough in the 
 East, where Lying is one of the fine 
 arts, but was new in this country, we 
 believe, and we hope to Heaven we 
 shall not be the means of import- 
 ing it. 
 
 An old clerk of his father's, now 
 superannuated and pensioned off, had 
 a son upon the stage, in a very mean 
 position. Once a year, however, and 
 of course in the dog-days, he had 
 a kind of benefit at his suburban 
 theatre ; that is to say, the manager 
 allowed him to sell tickets, and take 
 half the price of them. He persuaded 
 Arthur to take some, and even to go 
 to the theatre for an hour. The man 
 played a little part, of a pompous 
 sneak, with some approach to Nature. 
 He seemed at home. 
 
 Arthur found this man out; visited 
 him at his own place. He was very 
 poor, and mingled pomposity with 
 obsequiousness, so that Arthur felt 
 convinced he was to be bought, body 
 and soul, what there was of him. 
 
 He sounded him accordingly, and 
 the result was that the man agreed to 
 perform a part for hini. 
 
 Arthur wrote it, and they rehearsed 
 it together. As to the dialogue, that 
 was so constructed that it could be 
 varied considerably according to the 
 cues, which could be foreseen to a 
 certain extent; .but not precisely, 
 since they were to be given by Helen 
 Rolleston, who was not in the se- 
 cret. 
 
 But whilst this plot was fermenting, 
 other events happened, with rather a 
 contrary tendency ; and these will be 
 more intelligible if we go back to 
 Nancy Rouse's cottage, where indeed 
 wc have kept Joseph Wylie in an 
 uncomfortable position a very long 
 time. 
 
 Mrs. James, from next door, was at 
 last admitted into Nancy's kitchen, 
 and her first word was, " I suppose
 
 232 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 you kncnv what I 'm come about, 
 ma'am." 
 
 " Which it is to return me the sass- 
 pan you borrowed, uo doubt," was 
 Naucy'tj in;^cnuous re])ly. 
 
 " No ma'am. But I '11 send my 
 girl in with it, as soon as she have 
 cleaned it, you may depend." 
 
 " Thank yc, I shall be glad to see 
 it again." 
 
 " You 're not afcard I shall steal it, 
 I hope;" 
 
 " La, bless the woman ! don't fly 
 out at a body like that. I can't 
 artbrd to give away my sass-pan." 
 
 " Sa.ss-pans is not in my head." 
 
 " Nor in your hand neither." 
 
 " I 'm come about my lodger ; a 
 most respectable gentleman, which 
 he have met with an accident. He 
 did Imt go to ])ut something away in 
 the cliimblcy, which he is a curious 
 gent, and has travelled a good deal, 
 and learned the foreign customs, 
 when his hand was caught in the 
 brick-work, somchows, and there he 
 is hard and fast." 
 
 " Do you know anything about 
 this 1 " said Nancy to the mite, se- 
 verely. 
 
 " No," said the mite, with a coun- 
 tenance of polished granite. 
 
 " La, bless me ! " said Nancy, with 
 a sudden start. " Why, is slie talking 
 about tlie thief as yon aiul I catchcd 
 ]iutting his hand tlirougli the wall 
 into my room, and made him fast 
 again the policeman comes round ? " 
 
 " Thief! " cried Mrs. James : " no 
 more a thief than I am. Why, sure 
 you would n't ever be so cruel ! 
 O dear ! dear ! Spite goes a far 
 Icnj^th. There, take an' kill me, do, 
 and then you '11 be easy in your mind. 
 Ah, little my poor father thought as 
 ever I should come down to letting 
 lodgings, and being maltreated this 
 
 way 
 
 I am — " 
 
 Who is a maltreating of yc ? 
 Why, you 're dreaming. Have a 
 drop o' gin ? " 
 
 " With them as takes the police 
 to my lodger? It would choke 
 me!" 
 
 " Well, have a drop, and we '11 see 
 about it." 
 
 " You 're very kin<l, ma'am, I 'm 
 sure. Heaven knows I need it ! 
 Here 's wishing you a good husband ; 
 and towards burying all unkindness." 
 
 " Wliich you means drounding of 
 it." 
 
 " Ah, you 're never at a loss for a 
 W'Ord, ma'am, and always in good 
 spirits. But your troubles is to 
 come, / 'm a widdy. You will let 
 me see Avhat is the matter with my 
 lodger, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Why not 1 We '11 go and have a 
 look at him." 
 
 Accordingly, the three women and 
 the mite proceeded to the little room ; 
 Nancy turned the gas on, and then 
 they inspected the inijjrisoncd hand. 
 i\Irs. .James screamed with dismay, 
 and Nancy asked her drylv wliethcr 
 she was to blame for seizing a hand 
 which had committed a manifest 
 tres])ass. 
 
 '• You have got the rest of his 
 body," said she, " but this here 
 hand belongs to me." 
 
 " Lord, ma'am, what could he take 
 out of your chimbley, without 't was 
 a handful of soot ? Do, pray, let me 
 loose him." 
 
 " Not till I have said two words to 
 him." 
 
 can 
 
 to,- 
 
 vou 1 
 
 ■oniv 
 
 lie is n't 
 
 a morsel of 
 
 vour house and 
 
 " But how 
 here to speak 
 him." 
 
 " I can go into 
 speak to him." 
 
 Mrs. James demurred to that ; but 
 Nancy stood firm ; Mrs. James 
 yielded. Nancy whispered her myr- 
 midons, and, in a few minutes, was 
 standing by the jirisoner. a reverend 
 person in dark sjjcctac'lcs, and a gray 
 Ix'ard, that created commiseration, or 
 would have done so, but that this 
 stroke of ill-fortune had ap])arcntly 
 fallen njion a great ])liiIc)soplicr. He 
 had contrived to get a seat under him, 
 and was smoking a pijjc with admi- 
 rable sciiifj f'loid. 
 
 At sigjit of Nancy, however, he 
 made a slight motion, as if he would
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 233 
 
 not object to follow his imprisoned 
 hand tlirough the party wall. It was 
 only for a moment ; the next, he 
 smoked imperturbably. 
 
 " Well, sir," said Nancy, " I hopes 
 you are comforiable ? " 
 
 " Thank ye, miss ; yes. I 'm at a 
 double sheet-anchor." 
 
 " Why do you call me miss 1 " 
 
 " I don't know. Because you are 
 so young and pretty." 
 
 " That will do. I only wanted to 
 hear the sound of your voice, Joe 
 Wylie." And with the word she 
 snatched his wig off with one hand, 
 and his beard with the other, and re- 
 vealed his true features to his aston- 
 ished landlady. 
 
 " There, mum," said she, " I wish 
 you joy of your lodger." She tapped 
 the chimney three times with the 
 poker, and, telling Sir. Wylie she had 
 a few words to say to him in private, 
 retired for the present. Mrs. James 
 sat down and mourned the wicked- 
 ness of mankintl, the loss of her 
 lodger (who would now go bodily next 
 door instead of sending his hand), 
 and the better days she had by it- 
 eration brought herself to believe 
 she had seen. 
 
 Wylie soon entered Nancy's house, 
 and her first question was, " The 
 £ 2,000, how did you get them ? " 
 
 " No matter how I got them," said 
 Wylie, sulkily. " What have you 
 done with them ? " 
 
 " Put them away." 
 
 " That is all right. I 'm blest if I 
 did n't think they were gone forever." 
 
 " I wish they had never come. Ill- 
 gotten money is a curse." Then she 
 taxed him with scuttling the Proser- 
 ])ine, and asked him whether that 
 money had not been the bribe. But 
 Joe was obdurate. " I never split on 
 a friend," said he. " And you have 
 nobody to blame but yourself, you 
 would n't splice without £ 2,000. I 
 loved you, and I got it how I could. 
 D' ye think a poor fellow like me can 
 make .£2,000 in a voyage by hauling 
 in ropes, and tying true-lovers' knots 
 in the foretop ? " 
 
 Nancy had her answer ready ; but 
 this remembrance pricked her own 
 conscience and ])aved the way to a 
 reconciliation. Nancy had no high- 
 flown notions. She loved money, but 
 it must be got without palpable dis- 
 honesty ; per contra, she was not going 
 to denounce her sweetheart, but then 
 again she would not many him so 
 long as he differed with her about the 
 meaning of the eighth commandment. 
 
 This led to many arguments, some 
 of them warm, some affectionate ; and 
 so we leave Mr. Wylie under the slow 
 but salutary influence of love and un- 
 pretending probity. He continued to 
 lodge next door. Nancy would only 
 receive him as a visitor. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVII. 
 
 Helex had complained to Arthur, 
 of all people, that she was watched 
 and followed; she even asked him 
 whether that was not the act of some 
 enemy. Arthur smiled, and said: 
 " Take my word for it, it is onlj' some 
 foolish admirer of your beauty; he 
 wants to know your habits, in hopes 
 of falling in with you ; you had bet- 
 ter let me go out with you for the 
 next month or so ; that sort of thing 
 will soon die away." 
 
 As a necessary consequence of 
 this injudicious revelation, Helen was 
 watched with greater skill and sub- 
 tlety, and upon a plan weil calcu- 
 lated to disarm sus]jicion ; a spy 
 watched the door, and by a signal 
 unintelligible to any but his confed- 
 erate, whom Helen could not possibly 
 see, set the latter on her track. They 
 kept this game up unobserved for sev- 
 eral days, but learned nothing, for 
 Helen was at a stand-still. At last 
 they got caught, and by a truly fem- 
 inine stroke of observation. A show- 
 ily dressed man peeped into a shop 
 where Helen was buying gloves. 
 
 With one glance of her woman's 
 eye she recognized a large breastjiin 
 in the worst possible taste; thence
 
 234 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 her eye went up and recognized the 
 features of her seedy follower, though 
 he was now dressed up to the nine. 
 She withdrew her eye directly, com- 
 pleted her purchase, and went home, 
 brooding defence and vengeance. 
 
 That evening she dined with a lady 
 who had a large acquaintance with 
 lawyers, and it so hajjpened that Mr. 
 Tollcmache and 3Ir. llennessy were 
 both of the party. Now, when these 
 gentlemen saw Helen in full costume, 
 a c]uecn in form as well as face, coro- 
 nctcd with her island pearls, environed 
 witii a halo of romance, and courted 
 by women as well as men, they looked 
 up to her with astonishment, and 
 made up to her in a very different 
 style from that in which tliey had re- 
 ceived her visit. Tollcmache she re- 
 ceived coldly ; he had defended Rob- 
 ert I'enfold feelily, and she hated him 
 for it. Hennessy she received gra- 
 ciously, and, remembering Eobert's 
 precept to be supple as a woman, 
 bewitched him. He was good- 
 natured, able, and vain. By eleven 
 o'clock she had enlisted him in her 
 service. When she had conquered 
 him, she said, slyly, " But I ought 
 not to speak of these things to you 
 except through a solicitor." 
 
 " That is the general rule," said 
 the learned counsel ; ■" but in this 
 case no dark body must come between 
 me and the sun." 
 
 In short he entered into Pcnfold's 
 case with such well-feigned warmth, 
 to please the beauteous girl, that at 
 last she took him by the horns and 
 consulted. 
 
 " I am followed," said she. 
 
 " I have no doubt you are ; and on 
 a large scale ; if there is room for 
 another, I should be glad to join the 
 train." 
 
 "Ha! ha! I'll save you the 
 trouble. I '11 meet you half-way. 
 But, to be serious, I am watched, 
 spied, and followed by some enemy 
 to that good friend whose sacred 
 cause we have undertaken. Forgive 
 me for saying ' we.' " 
 
 " 1 am too ])roud of the compan- 
 
 ionship to let you off. * Wc ' is the 
 word." 
 
 " Then advise me what to do. I 
 want to retaliate. I want to discover 
 who is watching me, and why. Can 
 you advise me ? Will you ? " 
 
 The counsel reflected a moment, 
 and Helen, who watched him, re- 
 marked the power tiiat suddenly came 
 into his countenance and brow. 
 
 " You must watch the s])ies. I 
 have influence in Scotland Yard, and 
 will get it done for you. If you went 
 there yourself, they would cross-ex- 
 amine you and decline to interfere. 
 I '11 go myself for you and put it in 
 a certain light. An able detective 
 will call on you : give him ten guineas, 
 and let him into your views in con- 
 fidence ; then he will work the public 
 machinery for you." 
 
 " O ]\ir. Hennessv, how can I 
 thank you 1 " 
 
 " By succeeding. I hate to fail : 
 and now your cause is mine." 
 
 Next day a man with a hooked 
 nose, a keen black eye, and a solitary 
 foible (Mosaic), called 05 Helen 
 Eollcston, and told her he was to take 
 her instructions. She told him she 
 was watched, and thought it was 
 done to baffle a mission she had un- 
 dertaken ; but, having got so far, she 
 blushed and hesitated. 
 
 " The more you tell me, miss, the 
 more use I can be," said Mr. Burt. 
 
 Thus encouraged, and also remem- 
 bering ]\Ir. Ilennessy's advice, she 
 gave ^Ir. Burt, as coldly as she could, 
 an outline of Robert Pcnfold's case, 
 and of the exertions she had made, 
 and the small result. 
 
 Burt listened keenly, and took a 
 note or two ; and, when she had done, 
 he told her something in return. 
 
 "Miss Rolleston," said he, "I am 
 the oflicer that arrested JJobert Pen- 
 fold. It cost me a grinder that he 
 knocked out." 
 
 " dear ! " said Helen, " how un- 
 fortunate ! Then I fear I cannot 
 reckon on your services." 
 
 " Why not, miss ? What, do you 
 think I hold spite against a poor fel-
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 235 
 
 low for defending himself? Besides, 
 Mr. Penfold wrote me a very proper 
 note. Certiiinly for a parson the gent 
 is a very quick l>ittcr ; but he wrote 
 very square ; said he lioped I would 
 allow for the surprise and the agita- 
 tion of an innocent man ; sent me 
 two guineas too, and said he would 
 make it twenty but he was poor as 
 well as unfortunate ; that letter has 
 stuck in my gizzard ever since ; can't 
 see the color of felony in it. Your 
 felon is never in a fault ; and, if he 
 M'cars a good coat, he is n't given to 
 show fight.'' 
 
 " It was very improper of him to 
 strike you," said Helen, " and very 
 noble of you to forgive it. Make him 
 still more ashamed of it ; lay him un- 
 der a deep obligation." 
 
 " If he is innocent, I '11 try and 
 prove it," said the Detective. He 
 then asked her if she had taken notes. 
 She said she had a diary. He begged 
 to see it. Siie felt inclined to with- 
 hold it, because of the comments ; 
 but, remembering that this was wo- 
 manish, and that Robert's orders to 
 her were to be manly on such occa- 
 sions, she produced her diary. Mr. 
 Burt read it very carefully, and told 
 her it was a very promising case. 
 " You have done a great deal more 
 than you thought," he said. " You 
 have netted thejish." 
 
 CHAPTER LXVIII. 
 
 " I ! NETTED the fish ! what fish ? " 
 
 " The man who forged the promis- 
 sory note." 
 
 " O Mr. Burt ! " 
 
 " The same man that forged the 
 newspaper extracts to deceive you 
 forgeil the promissoj-y note years ago, 
 and the man who is setting spies on 
 you is the man who forged those ex- 
 tracts ; .so we are sure to nail him. 
 He is in the net ; and very much to 
 your credit. Leave the rest to me, 
 I '11 tell you more about it to-morrow. 
 You must order your carriage at one 
 o'clock to-morrow and drive down to 
 
 Scotland Yard ; go into the yard, and 
 3-ou will see me ; follow me without 
 a word. When you go back, the 
 other sjjies will be so frightened, they 
 will go otf to their employer, and so 
 we shall nail him." 
 
 Helen com])lied with these instruc- 
 tions strictly, and then returned home, 
 leaving Mr. Burt to work. She had 
 been home about half an hour, when 
 the servant brought her up a message 
 saying that a man wanted to speak to 
 her. " Admit him," said Helen. 
 " He is dressed very poor, miss." 
 "Never mind; send him to me." 
 She was afraid to reject anybody now, 
 lest she might turn her back on infor- 
 mation. 
 
 A man presented himself in well- 
 worn clothes, with a wash-leather 
 fiice and close-shaven chiii ; a little 
 of his forehead was also shaven. 
 " Madam, my name is Hand." Hel- 
 en started. " I have already had the 
 honor of writing to you." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Helen, eying him 
 with fear and aversion. 
 
 " Madam, I am come " — (he hesi- 
 tated) — "I am an unfortunate man. 
 Weighed down by remorse for a 
 thoughtless act that has ruined an 
 innocent man, and nearly cost my 
 worthy emplo)'er his life, I come to 
 expiate as far as in me lies. But let 
 me be brief, and hurry over the tale 
 of shame. I was a clerk at Wardlaw's 
 office. A bill-broker called Adams 
 was talking to me and my fellow- 
 clerks, and boasting that nobody 
 could take him in with a feigned sig- 
 nature. Bets were laid ; our vanity 
 was irritated by his pretension. It 
 was my fortune to overhear my young 
 master and his friend Robert Penfold 
 speak about a loan of two thovisand 
 poimds. In an evil hour I listened 
 to the tem])ter, and wrote a forged 
 note for that amount. I took it to 
 Mr. Penfold ; he presented it to 
 Adams, and it was cashed. I intend- 
 ed, of course, to call next dav, and 
 tell Mr. Penfold, and take him to 
 Adams, and restore the money, and 
 get back the note. It was not due for
 
 236 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 three months. Alas! that very day 
 it fell under suspicion. Mr. Pcnfold 
 was arrested. J\ly youn<r master was 
 siruek down with illness at his friend's 
 guilt, tliou;;h lie never could be quite 
 got to believe it; and I — miserable 
 coward! — dared not tell the truth. 
 Ever since that day I have been a 
 miserable man. The other day I 
 came into money, and left Wardlaw's 
 service. But I carry my remorse 
 with me. Madam, I am come to tell 
 the truth. I dare not tell it to Mr. 
 AVardlaw ; I think he would kill me. 
 But I will tell it to yon, and you can 
 tell it to him; ay," tell it to' all the 
 Avorld. Let iny shame be as public 
 as his whom I liave injured so deeply, 
 but, Heaven knows, unintentionallv. 
 I— I — I — " 
 
 Mr. Hand sank all in a heap where 
 he sat, and could say no more. 
 
 Helen's ilesh crawled at this con- 
 fession, and at the sight of this reptile 
 who O'ivned that he had destroyed 
 Robert Penfold in fear and cowardice. 
 For a long time her wrath so over- 
 powered all sense of pity, that she sat 
 trembling ; and, if eyes could kill, 
 Mr. Hand would not have outlived 
 his confession. 
 
 At last she contrived to speak. 
 She turned her iiead away not to 
 see the wretch, and said, sternly, — 
 
 " Are 3'ou jjreparcd to make this 
 statement on paper, if called on ? " 
 
 Mr. Hand hesitated, but said, 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then write down that Robert 
 Penfold was innocent, and vou are 
 ready to prove it whenever you may 
 be called upon." 
 
 " Write that down ? " said Hand. 
 
 " Unless your penitence is feigned, 
 you will." 
 
 " Sooner than that should be added 
 to my crime I will avow all." He 
 wrote the few lines she required. 
 
 " Now your address, that I may 
 know where to find you at a mo- 
 ment's notice." He wrote, "J. Hand, 
 11 Warwick Street, Pimlico." 
 
 Helen then dismissed him, and 
 wept bitterly. In that condition she 
 
 was found by Arthur Wardlaw, who 
 comforted her, and, on hearing her 
 re])ort of Hand's confession, burst out 
 into triumph, and reminded her he 
 had always said Robert Penfold was 
 innocent. "My father," said he, 
 " must yield to this evidence, and wc 
 will lay it before the Secretary of 
 State, and get his pardon." 
 
 " His pardon ! when he is in- 
 nocent ! " 
 
 " O, that is the form, — the only 
 form. The rest must he done by the 
 warm reception of his friends. I, for 
 one, who all these years have main- 
 tained his innocence, will be the first 
 to welcome him to my hou.se an hon- 
 ored guest. What am I saying ? 
 Can I ? dare I ? ought I ? when my 
 wife — Ah ! I am more to be pitied 
 than my poor friend is : my friend, 
 my rival. Well, I leave it to you 
 whether he can come into your hus- 
 band's house." 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " But, at least, I can send the 
 Sj)ringlK)k out, and bring him home ; 
 and that I will do without one day's 
 delay." 
 
 " O Arthur ! " cried Helen, " you 
 set me an cxamjde of unselfishness." 
 
 " I do wiiat I can," said Arthur. 
 " I am no saint. I hope for a reward." 
 
 Helen sighed. " What shall I do ? " 
 
 "Have pity on me! your faithful 
 lover, and to whom your faith was 
 plighted before ever you saw or knew 
 my unhappy friend. A\'hat can I do 
 or sufll'r more than I have done and 
 suffered for you ? My sweet Helen, 
 have pitv on me, and be my wife." 
 
 " I win ; some day." 
 
 " Bless you : bless you. One effort 
 more : wliat day f " 
 
 " I can't. I can't. Mv heart is 
 dead." 
 
 " This day fortnight. Let me 
 speak to your father : let him name 
 the day." 
 
 As she made no reply, he kissed 
 her hand devotedly, and did speak to 
 her father. Sir Edward, meaning all 
 for the best, said, " This day fort- 
 night."
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 237 
 
 CHAPTER LXIX. 
 
 The next morning came the first 
 wedding presents from the jubilant 
 bridegroom, who was determined to 
 advance step by step, and give no 
 breathing time. When Helen saw 
 them laid out by her maid, she trem- 
 bled at the consequences of not 
 giving a plump negative to so brisk a 
 wooer. 
 
 The second post brought two 
 letters ; one of them from Mrs. 
 Undercliff. The other contained no 
 words, but only a pearl of uncommon 
 size, and pear-shaped. Helen received 
 this at first as another wedding pres- 
 ent, and an attempt on Arthur's part 
 to give her a pearl as large as those 
 she had gathered on her dear island. 
 But, looking narrowly at the address, 
 she saw it was not written by Arthur ; 
 and, presently, she was struck b}^ the 
 likeness of this pearl in shape to some 
 of her own. She got out her pearls, 
 laid them side by side, and began to 
 be moved exceedingly. She had one 
 of her instincts, and it set every fibre 
 quivering with excitement. It was 
 some time before she could take her 
 eyes off the pearls, and it was with a 
 trembling hand she opened Mrs. 
 Underclifl"s letter. That missive was 
 not calculated to calm her. It ran 
 thus : — 
 
 " My dear Yottxg Ladt : — A 
 person called here last night and sup- 
 plied the clew. If you have the 
 courage to know the truth, j^ou have 
 only to come here, and to bring your 
 diary, and all the letters you have 
 received from any person or persons 
 since you landed in England. I am 
 yours obediently, 
 
 "Jane Undercliff." 
 
 The courage to know the truth ! 
 
 This mysterious sentence affected 
 Helen considerably. But her faith 
 in Robert was too great to be shaken. 
 She would not wait for the canonical 
 hour at which young ladies go out, 
 but put on her bonnet directly after 
 
 breakfast. Early as she was, a 
 visitor came before she could start, — 
 Mr. Burt, the Detective. She received 
 him in the library. 
 
 Mr. Burt looked at her dress and 
 her little bag, and said, " I 'm very 
 glad I made bold to call so early." 
 
 " You have got information of 
 importance to communicate to 
 me?" 
 
 " I think so, miss " ; and he took 
 out his note-book. " The person you 
 are watched by is Mr. Arthur Ward- 
 law." The girl stared at him. 
 " Both spies report to him twice a 
 day at his house in Russell Square." 
 
 "Be careful, Mr. Burt; this is a 
 serious thing to say, and may have 
 serious consequences." 
 
 " Well, miss, you told me you 
 wanted to know the truth." 
 
 "Of course I want to know the 
 truth." 
 
 " Then the truth is that you arc 
 watched by order of Mr. Wardlaw." 
 
 Burt continued his report. 
 
 " A shabby-like man called on you 
 yesterday." 
 
 " Yes"; it was Mr. Hand, Mr. 
 Wardlaw's clerk. And Mr. Burt, 
 that wretched creature came and 
 confessed the truth. It was he who 
 forged the note, out of sport, and for 
 a bet, and then was too cowardly to 
 own it." She then detailed Hand's 
 confession. 
 
 " His penitence comes too late," 
 said she, with a deep sigh. 
 
 " It has n't come yet," said Burt, 
 di'vly. " Of course my lambs fol- 
 lowed the man. He went first to his 
 cmjiloyer, and then he went home. 
 Ilis name is not Hand He is not a 
 clerk at all, but a little actor at the 
 Corinthian Saloon. Hand is in 
 America ; went three months ago. 
 I ascertained that from another c^uar- 
 ter." 
 
 " goodness ! " cried Helen, 
 " what a wretched world ! I can't 
 see my way a yard for stories." 
 
 " How should you, miss ? It is 
 clear enough, for all that. Mr. 
 Wardlaw liired this actor to pass for
 
 238 
 
 FOUL PLAY, 
 
 Hand, and tell you a lie that he 
 thoiiglit would jjleasc you." 
 
 Helen put her hand to her brow, 
 and tliou^ht ; but her candid soul got 
 sadly in tbe way of her brain. " ^Ir. 
 Burt," said slie, " will you po with 
 me to Mr. Underelitl' the" Expert ? " 
 
 " With ]>leasure, ma'am ; but let 
 me tinuh my report, Last night 
 there was something new. Your 
 house was watched by six persons. 
 Two were Wardlaw's, three were 
 Burt's ; but the odd num was there 
 on his own hook ; and my men could 
 not make him out at all ; but they 
 think one of Wardlaw's men knew 
 him ; for he went off to Russell 
 Square like the wind, and brought 
 Mr. Wardlaw here in disguise. Now, 
 miss, that is all ; and shall I call a 
 cab, and we '11 hear Underclilfs tale ? " 
 
 The cab was called, and they went 
 to Undcrcliff. On the way Helen 
 brooded ; but the Detective eyed 
 every man and everything on the 
 road with the utmost keenness. 
 
 I-xlward Undercliff was at Avork at 
 lithographing. He received Helen 
 cordiallv, nodded to Burt, and said 
 she couhl not have a better assistant. 
 
 He then laid his flic-simile of the 
 forged note on the table, with John 
 Wardlaw's genuine writing and Pen- 
 fold's indorsement. " Look at that, 
 Mr. Burt." 
 
 Burt inspected the papers keenly. 
 
 " You know, Burt, I swore at Rob- 
 ert Penfold's trial that he never wrote 
 that forged note." 
 
 " I remember," said Burt. 
 
 " The other day this lady instruct- 
 ed me to discover, if I could, who did 
 write the forged note. But, unfortu- 
 nately, the materials she gave me 
 were not sufficient. But, last night, 
 a young man dro]i])ed from the clouds, 
 tliat I made sure was an agent of 
 yours, ^liss Rolleston. Under that 
 im))rpssion I was rather unguarded, 
 and I let him know how far we had 
 got, and could get no further. ' I 
 think I can help Vfni,' says this young 
 man, and puts a letter on the table. 
 Well, Mr. Burt, a glance at that 
 
 letter was enough for mc. It was 
 written by the man who forged the 
 note." 
 
 "A letter!" said Helen. 
 
 "Yes. I'll put the letter by the 
 side of the forged note ; and, if you 
 have any eye for writing at all, yoii '11 
 see at once that one hand wrote the 
 forged note and this letter. I am 
 also prepared to swear that the letters 
 signed Hand are forgeries by the same 
 person." He then coolly "put ujwn 
 the table the letter from Arthur 
 Wiirdlaw that Helen had received on 
 board the Proserpine, and was pro- 
 ceeding to point out the many points 
 of resemblance between the letter and 
 the document, when he was interrupt- 
 ed by a scream from Helen. 
 
 " Ah ! " she cried, " he is here. 
 Only one man in the world could 
 have brought that letter. I left it on 
 the island. Roliert is here : he gave 
 you that letter." 
 
 " You are right," said the Expert, 
 " and what a fool I must be ! I have 
 no eye except for handwriting. He 
 had a beard : and such a beard ! " 
 
 " It is Robert ! " cried Helen, in 
 raptures. " He is come just in time." 
 
 " In time to be arrested," said Burt. 
 " Why, his time is not out. He '11 
 get into trouble again." 
 
 " 0, Heaven forbid ! " cried Helen, 
 and turned so faint she had to be laid 
 back on a chair, and salts applied to 
 her nostrils. 
 
 She soon came to, and cried and 
 tremhled, but prepared to defend her 
 Robert with all a wonnm's wit. Burt 
 and L^ndtrclitrwerc conversing in a 
 low voice, and Burt was saying he felt 
 sure Wardlaw's spies had detected 
 Robert Penfold, and that Robert 
 would be arrested and put into prison 
 as a runaway convict. " Go to Scot- 
 land Yard this minute, Mr. Burt." 
 said Helen, eagerlv. 
 
 "What fori" 
 
 " Why, you must take the com- 
 missirm to arrest him. You arc our 
 friend." 
 
 Burt slapped his thigh with delight. 
 
 " That is first-rate, miss," said he :
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 239 
 
 " I '11 take the real felon, first, yon 
 may depend. Now, Mr Undcreliff, 
 write your report, and hand it to Miss 
 Helen" with fac-similes. It will do no 
 harm if you make a declaration to the 
 same effect before a magistrate. Yon, 
 Miss Kolleston, keep yourself dis- 
 engaged, and please don't go out. 
 You will very likely hear from me 
 again to-day." 
 
 He drove off, and Helen, though 
 still greatly agitated by Robert's 
 danger and the sense of his presence, 
 now sat down, trembling a little, and 
 compared Arthur's letter with the 
 forged document. The effect of this 
 comparison was irresistible. The 
 Expert, however, asked her for some 
 letter of Arthur's that had never 
 passed through Robert Penfold's 
 hands. She gave him the short 
 note in which he used the very words, 
 Robert Penfold. He said he would 
 make that note the basis of his re- 
 port. 
 
 While he was writing it, Mrs. Un- 
 derclirt' came in, and Helen told her 
 all. She said, " I came to the same 
 conclusion long ago ; but when you 
 said he was to be your husband — " 
 "Ah," said Helen, "we women are 
 poor creatures ; we can always find 
 some reason for running away from 
 the truth. Now explain about the 
 prayer-book." 
 
 " Well, miss, I felt sure he would 
 steal it, so I made Ned produce a fac- 
 simile. And he did steal it. What 
 you got back was your mother's 
 pra3'er-book. Of coui'se I took care 
 of that." 
 
 " Mrs. Undercliff," cried Helen, 
 " do let me kiss you." 
 
 Then they had a nice little cry 
 together, and, by the time they had 
 dune, the report was ready in du- 
 plicate. 
 
 "I'll declare this before a magis- 
 trate," said the Expert, "and then 
 I '11 send it }'0u." 
 
 At four o'clock of this eventful day, 
 Helen got a message from Burt to say 
 that he had orders to arrest Robert 
 Penfold, and that she must wear a 
 
 mask, and ask Mr. Wardlaw to meet 
 her at old Mr. Penfold's at nine 
 o'clock. But she herself must be 
 there at half past eight, without fail, 
 and bring Undercliff's declaration and 
 report with her, and the prayer-book, 
 etc. 
 
 Accordingly Helen went down to 
 old Mr. Penfold's at half past eight, 
 and was received by Nancy Rouse, 
 and ushered into Mr. Penfold's 
 room; that is to say, Nancy held 
 the door open, and, on her entering 
 the room, shut it sharply and ran 
 down stairs. 
 
 Helen entered the room ; a man 
 rose directly, and came to her; but 
 it was not Michael Penfold, — it was 
 Robert. A iaint scream, a heaven- 
 ly sigh, and her head was on his 
 shoulder, and her arm round his 
 neck, and both their hearts panting 
 as they gazed, and then clung to 
 each other, and then gazed again 
 with love unutterable. After a wliile 
 they got suthcient composure to sit 
 down hand in hand and compare 
 notes. And Helen showed him their 
 weapons of defence, the prayer-book, 
 the Expert's report, etc. 
 
 A discreet tap was heard at the 
 door. It was Nancy Rouse. On 
 being invited to enter, she came in 
 and said, " Miss Helen, I 've got a 
 penitent outside, which he done it for 
 love of me, and now he'll make a 
 clean breast, and the fault was partly 
 mine. Come in, Joe, and speak for 
 yourself." 
 
 On this, Joe Wylie came in, hang- 
 ing his head piteously. 
 
 " She is right, sir," said he ; "I 'm 
 come to ask your pardon and the 
 lady's. Not as I ever meant you any 
 harm ; but to destroy the ship, it was 
 a bad act, and I 've never throve 
 since. Nance, she have got the 
 money. I '11 give it back to the un- 
 derwriters ; and, if you and the lady 
 will forgive a poor fellow that was 
 tempted with love and money, why, 
 I '11 stand to the truth for you, 
 though it's a bitter pill." 
 
 " i forgive you," said Robert ;
 
 240 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 " and I accept yonr offer to serve 
 me." 
 
 " And so do I," said Helen. " In- 
 deed, it is not us you have wronged. 
 But O, I am glad, for Nancy's sake, 
 that you repent." 
 
 " Miss, 1 '11 go through fire and 
 water for you," said Wylie, lifting up 
 Ills head. 
 
 Here old Michael came in to say 
 that Arthur Wardlaw was at the 
 door, with a policeman. 
 
 " Show him in," said Robert. 
 
 " O no, Robert ! " said Helen. 
 " He fills me with horror." 
 
 " Show him in," said Robert, gen- 
 tly. " Sit down, all of you." 
 
 Now Burt had not told Arthur who 
 was in the house, so he came, rather 
 uneasy in his mind, but still expect- 
 ing only to see Helen. 
 
 Robert Peufold told Helen to face 
 the door, and the rest to sit back ; 
 and this arrangement had not been 
 effected one second, when Arthur 
 came in, with a lover's look, and, 
 taking two steps into the room, saw 
 the three men waiting to receive him. 
 At sight of Penfold, he started, and 
 turned pale as ashes ; but, recovering 
 himself, said : " My dearest Helen, 
 this is indeed an unex])ected pleasure. 
 You will reconcile me to one whose 
 worth and innocence I never doubted, 
 and tell him I have had some little 
 hand in clearing him." His effront- 
 ery was received in dead silence. 
 This struck cold to his bones, and, 
 being naturally weak, he got violent. 
 He said, " Allow me to send a mes- 
 sage to my servant." 
 
 He then tore a leaf out of his mem- 
 orandum-book, wrote on it : " Rob- 
 ert Penfold is here ; arrest him direct- 
 ly, and take him away " ; and, enclos- 
 ing this in an envelope, sent it out to 
 Burt by Nancy. 
 
 Helen seated herself quietly, and 
 said, " Mr. ^Vardlaw, when did Mr. 
 Hand go to America ? " 
 
 Arthur stammered out, "I don't 
 know the exaet dare" 
 
 " Two or three mouths ago ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then the person yon sent to me 
 to tell me that falsehood was not Mr. 
 Hand ? " 
 
 " I sent nobody." 
 
 " O, for shame! — for shame! 
 Why have you set spies 1 Why did 
 you make away with my prayer- 
 book; — or what you thought "was 
 my prayer-book ? Here is my jirayer- 
 book, that proves you had the Pro- 
 scqnne destroyed ; "and I should have 
 lost my life but for another, whom 
 you had done your best to destroy. 
 Look Robert Penfold in the face, if 
 you can." 
 
 Arthur's eyes began to waver. " I 
 can," said he. " I never wronged 
 him. I always lamented his mis- 
 fortune." 
 
 " You were not the cause ? " 
 
 " Never ! — so help me Heaven ! " 
 
 "Monster!" said Helen, turning 
 away in contempt and horror. 
 
 "O, that is it, — is it?" said Ar- 
 thur, wildly. " You break fiiith with 
 me for fiim ? You insult me for him ? 
 I must bear anything from you, for I 
 love you; but, at least, I will sweep 
 him out of the path." 
 
 He ran to the door, opened it, and 
 there was Burt, listening. " Are you 
 an officer ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then arrest that man this mo- 
 ment : he is Robert Penfold, a con- 
 vict returned before his time." 
 
 Burt came into the room, locked 
 the door, and put the key in his 
 pocket. " Well, sir," said he to Rob- 
 ert Penfold, " I know you are a (piick 
 hitter. Don't let us have a row over 
 it this time. If you have got any- 
 thing to sav, say it quiet and com- 
 fortable." 
 
 " I will go with you on one con- 
 dition," said Robert. " You must 
 take the fVlon as well as the martyr. 
 This is the felon," and he laid his 
 hand on Arthur's shoulder, who 
 cowered under the touch at first, but 
 soon began to act violent indigna- 
 tion. 
 
 " Take the ruffian away at once," 
 he cried-
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 241 
 
 "What, before I hear what he has 
 got to say 1 " 
 
 " Would you listen to him against 
 a merchant of the city of London, a 
 man of unblemished reputation 1 " 
 
 " Well, sir, you see we have got a 
 hint that you were concerned in scut- 
 tling a ship ; and that is a felony. So 
 I think I '11 just hear what he has got 
 to say. You need not Jlur any man's 
 tongue if you are innocent." 
 
 " Sit down, if you please, and ex- 
 amine these documents," said llobert 
 Penfold. " As to the scuttling of the 
 ship; here is the deposition of two 
 seamen, taken on their death-bed, and 
 witnessed by Miss RoUeston and my- 
 self" 
 
 " And that book he tried to steal," 
 said Helen. 
 
 Robert continued : " And here is 
 Uuderclitf 's fac-simile of the forged 
 note. Here are specimens of Arthur 
 Wardlaw's handwriting, and here is 
 Undercliff 's report." 
 
 The Detective ran his eye hastily 
 over the report, which we slightly 
 condense. 
 
 On comparing the forged note with 
 genuine specimens of John AYard- 
 law's handwriting, no less than twelve 
 deviations from his habits of writing 
 strike the eye ; and every one of these 
 twelve deviations is a deviation into 
 a habit of Arthur Wardlaw, which is 
 an amount of demonstration rarely 
 attained in cases of forgery. 
 
 1. The capital L. — Compare in 
 London (forged note) with the same 
 letter in London in Wardlaw's letter. 
 
 2. Thk capital D. — Compare 
 this letter in " Date " with the same 
 letter in " Dearest." 
 
 3. The capital T. — Compare it 
 in " Two" and " ToUemache." 
 
 4. The word " To "; see " To pay," 
 in forged note and third line of letter. 
 
 5. Small "o" formed with a loop 
 in the up-stroke. 
 
 6. The manner of finishing the 
 letter "v." 
 
 7. Ditto the letter " w." 
 
 8. The imperfect formation of the 
 small "a." This and the looped 
 
 16 
 
 " o " run through the forged note 
 and Arthur Wardlaw's letter, and 
 are habits entirely foreign to the style 
 of John Wardlaw. 
 
 9. See the '• th " in connection. 
 
 10. Ditto the "of" in connection. 
 
 1 1 . The incautious use of the Greek 
 e. John Wardlaw never uses this e. 
 Arthur Wardlaw never uses any 
 other, apparently. The writer of the 
 forged note began right, but, at the 
 word Robert Penfold, glided insen- 
 sibly into his Greek e, and main- 
 tained it to the end of the forgery. 
 This looks as if he was in the habit 
 of writing those two words. 
 
 12. Compare the words "Robei't 
 Penfold" in the forged document 
 with the same words in the letter. 
 The similarity is so striking, that, on 
 these two words alone, the writer 
 could be identified beyond a doubt. 
 
 13. Great pains were taken with 
 the signature, and it is like John 
 Wardlaw's writing on the surfoce ; 
 but go below the surface, and it is all 
 Arthur Wardlaw. 
 
 The looped o, the small r, the 1 
 dropping below the d, the open a, are 
 all Arthur AYardlaw's. The open 
 loop of the final w is a still bolder de- 
 viation into A. W.'s own hand. The 
 final flourish is a curious mistake. 
 It is executed with skill and freedom ; 
 but the writer has made the lower line 
 the thick one. Yet John Wardlaw 
 never does this. 
 
 How was the deviation caused? 
 Examine the final flourish in Arthur 
 Wardlaw's signature. It contains one 
 stroke only, but then that stroke is a 
 thick one. He thought he had only 
 to prolong his own stroke and bring 
 it round. He did this extremely well, 
 but missed the deeper cliaracteristic, 
 — the thick upper stroke. This is 
 proof of a high character : and al- 
 together I am quite prepared to 
 testify upon oath that the writer of 
 the letter to Miss RoUeston, who 
 signs himself Arthur Wardlaw, is 
 the person who forged the promis- 
 sory note. 
 
 To these twelve proofs one more
 
 242 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 was now added. Arthur TVardlaw 
 i;ose, and, with his knees knocking 
 togetiicr, said, " Don't arrest him, 
 Burt ; let liini go." 
 
 " Jion't let liim go," cried oUl I'en- 
 fold. "A villain! I have got the 
 number of the notes from Benson. 
 I can prove he bribed this poor man 
 to destroy the shi]). Don't let him 
 go. lie has ruined my ])0or boy." 
 
 At this Artliur Wardlaw began to 
 shriek for mercy. " Mr. Tenfold," 
 said he, " you arc a father, and hate 
 me. But think of my father. 1 '11 
 say anything, do anything. . '. '11 
 clear Kobert Tenfold at my own ex- 
 pense. I have lost her. She loathes 
 me now. Have mercy on mc, and let 
 me leave the country ! " lie cringed 
 and crawled so that he disarmed an- 
 ger, and substituted contemj)t. 
 
 "Ay," said Burt. " He don't hit 
 like you, Mr. Tenfold ; this is a cha]) 
 that ought to have been in Kewgatc 
 long ago. But take my advice ; make 
 him clear you on paper, and then let 
 liim go. I'll go down stairs awhile. 
 I must n't take part in compounding 
 a felony." 
 
 " O yes, Robert," said Helen, " for 
 his father's sake." 
 
 " Very well," said Robert. " Now 
 then, reptile, take the pen, and write 
 in your own hand, if you can." 
 
 Ho took the pen, and wrote to 
 dictation : — 
 
 " I, Arthur Wardlaw, confess that 
 I forged the promissory note for 
 .£2,000, and sent it to Robert Ten- 
 fold, and that £ 1,400 of it was to be 
 for my own use, and to pay my Ox- 
 ford debts. And I confess that I 
 bribed Wylie to scuttle the ship Tro- 
 serpine in order to cheat the under- 
 writers." 
 
 Tenfold then turned to Wylie, and 
 asked him the true motive of this 
 fraud. 
 
 " Whv, the gold was aboard the 
 Shannon," said Wylie ; " I ])layed 
 liniiky-panky with the metals in 
 While's store." 
 
 " Tut that down," said Tenfold. 
 "Now go on." 
 
 " ^fake a clean breast," said Wylie. 
 " I have. Say as how you cooked the 
 Troserpine's log, and forged Hiram 
 Hudson's writing." 
 
 " And the newspaper extracts you 
 sent me," said Helen, " and the let- 
 ters from I\lr. Hand." 
 
 Arthur groaned. " Must I tell all 
 that 7 "' said he. 
 
 " Every word, or be indicted," said 
 Robert Tenfold, sternly. 
 
 He wrote it all down, and then sat 
 staring stupidly. And the next thing 
 was, he gave a loud shriek, and fell 
 on the floor in a lit. They sprinkled 
 water over him, and Burt conveyed 
 him home in a cab, advising him to 
 leave the country, but at the same 
 time promising him not to exasperate 
 those he had wronged so deeply, but 
 rather to moderate them, if required. 
 Then he gave Burt fifty guineas. 
 
 Robert Tenfold, at Ilelen's request, 
 went with her to ilr. Hennessy, and 
 with the jiroofs of Arthur's guilt and 
 Robert's innocence ; and he undertook 
 that the matter should go in proper 
 form before the Secretary of State. 
 Hut, somehow, it transpired that the 
 Troserpine had been scuttled, and 
 several of the underwriters wrote to 
 the Wardlaws to threaten proceedings. 
 Wardlaw senior returned but one 
 answer to these gentlemen : " Bring 
 your proofs to mc at my place of 
 business next Monday at twelve, and 
 let me judge the case, hclbre you go 
 elsewhere." 
 
 " That is high and mighty," said 
 one or two ; but they conferred, and 
 agreed to these terms, so high stood 
 the old merchant's name. 
 
 They came ; they were received 
 with stiff courtesy. The deposition 
 of Cooper and Welch was jjroduced, 
 and Wylie, kept up to the mark by 
 Nancy, told the truth, and laid his 
 two thousand pounds intact down on 
 the table. " Now that is off my 
 stomach," said he, " and I 'm a man 
 again." 
 
 " Ay, and I '11 marry you next 
 week," said Nancy. 
 
 " Well, gentlemen," said old Ward-
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 243 
 
 law, " my course seems very clear. I 
 will undo the whole transaction, and 
 return you your money less the pre- 
 miums, but plus five per cent interest." 
 And this he did on the spot, for the 
 firm was richer than ever. 
 
 When they were gone, Robert Pen- 
 fold came in, and said, " I hear, sir, 
 you devote this day to repairing the 
 wrongs done by your firm : what can 
 you do for me ) " He laid a copy of 
 Arthur's confession before him. 
 
 The old man winced a moment 
 where he sat, and the iron passed 
 through his soul. It was a long time 
 before he could speak. At last he 
 said, " This wrong is irreparable, I 
 fear." 
 
 Robert said nothing. Sore as his 
 own heart was, he was not the one to 
 strike a grand old man, struggling so 
 bravely against dishonor. 
 
 Wardlaw senior touched his hand- 
 bell. 
 
 " Request Mr. Penfold to step tliis 
 way." 
 
 Michael Penfold came. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said tlie old mer- 
 chant, " the house of Wardlaw exists 
 no more. It was built on honesty, 
 and cannot survive a fraud. Ward- 
 law and Son were partners at will. I 
 had decided to dissolve that partner- 
 ship, wind up the accounts, and put 
 up tlie shutters. But now, if you like, 
 I will value the eifects, and hand the 
 business over to Penfold and Son on 
 easy terms. Robert Penfold has been 
 accused of forging John Wardlaw's 
 name ; to prove this was a calumny, I 
 put Penfold over my door instead of 
 Wardlaw. The city of London will un- 
 derstand that, gentlemen, believe me." 
 
 " Mr. Wardlaw," said Robert, " you 
 are a just, a noble — " He could say 
 no more. 
 
 " Ah, sir," said Michael, " if the 
 young gentleman had only been like 
 you ! " 
 
 " Mention his name no more to me. 
 His crime and his punishment have 
 killed me." 
 
 " O," said Robert, hastily, " he 
 shall not be punished for your sake." 
 
 "Not be punished? It is not in 
 your hands to decide. God has pun- 
 ished him He is insane." 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " 
 
 " Quite mad ; — quite mad. Gen- 
 tlemen, I can no longer support this 
 interview. Send me your solicitor's 
 address ; the deeds shall be prepared. 
 I wish the new firm success. Probity 
 is the road to it. Good day." 
 
 He wound up the affairs, had his 
 name and Arthur's painted out at his 
 own expense, and directed the paint- 
 ers to paint the Penfolds' in at theirs ; 
 went home to Elm-trees, and died in 
 three days. He died lamented and 
 honored, and Robert Penfold was 
 much afi'ectcd. He got it into his 
 head that he had killed him with Ar- 
 thur's confession, putting it before 
 him so suddenly. " I have forgotten 
 who said ' Vengeance is mine,' " said 
 Robert Penfold. 
 
 The merchant priest left the oflSce 
 to be conducted by his father ; he 
 used the credit of the new firm to 
 purchase a living in the Vale of Kent ; 
 and thither he retired, grateful to 
 Providence, but not easy in his con- 
 science. He now accused himself of 
 having often distrusted God, and seen 
 his fellow-creatures in too dark a light. 
 He turned towards i-eligion and the 
 care of souls. 
 
 Past suffering enlightens a man, 
 and makes him tender ; and people 
 soon began to walk and drive con- 
 siderable distances to hear the new 
 vicar. He had a lake with a pe- 
 ninsula, the shape of which he altered, 
 at a great expense, as soon as he 
 came there. He wrote to Helen 
 every day, and she to him. Neither 
 could do anything con amore till the 
 post came in. 
 
 One afternoon as he was preaching 
 with great unction, he saw a long 
 puritanical face looking up at him 
 with a droll expression of amazement 
 and half-irony. The stranger called 
 on him, and began at once. " Wal, 
 parson, you are a buster, you air. 
 You ginn it us hot, — you did. I 'm 
 darned if I ain't kinder ashamed to
 
 244 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 talk of this world's goods to a saint 
 upon airtli like you. But I nevei' 
 knowcd a parson yet as couldn't col- 
 lar the doHars." 
 
 After this preamble he announced 
 that he had s^t a lease of tlie island 
 from Ciiili, dii;j; a lot of silver plate 
 out of the fjallcon, sold ten tons of 
 choice coral, and a sliip-load of cassia 
 and cocoa-nuts. He had then dis- 
 posed of his lease to a Californian 
 company for a lar<i;e sum. And his 
 partner's sliare of net profits came to 
 XI 7,247 13s. 3.^f/. wliich sum lie had 
 paid to Michael, for Robert, Penfold 
 in drafts on Baring, at thirty days 
 after sight. 
 
 Robert shook his hand, and thanked 
 him sincerely for his abiHty and 
 probity. He stayed that night' at the 
 Vicarage, and by that means fell in 
 with another acquaintance. General 
 Rolleston and his daughter drove 
 down to see the Parsonage. Helen 
 wanted to surprise Robert ; and, as 
 often happens, she surprised herself. 
 She made him show her everything ; 
 and so he took her on to his peninsula. 
 Lo ! the edges of it had been cut and 
 altered, so tliat it presented a minia- 
 ture copy of Godsend Island. 
 
 As soon as she saw this, Helen 
 turned round with a sudden cry of 
 love, " O Robert ! " and the lovers 
 were in each otiicr's arms. 
 
 " What could any other man ever 
 be to me ? " 
 
 " And what could any other woman 
 ever be to me 1 " 
 
 They knew that before. But this 
 miniature island made them speak 
 out and say it. The wedding-day 
 was fixed before she left. 
 
 Her Majesty pardoned this scholar, 
 hero, and worthy, the crime he had 
 never committed. 
 
 Nancy Rouse took the penitent 
 Wylie without the .£ 2,000. But old 
 Penfold, who knew the wliole story, 
 lent tlie money at three per cent ; so 
 the Wylies pay a ground-rent of ,£ 60 
 a year for a property which, by ]\Irs. 
 WyJie's industry and Judgment, is 
 worth at least £400. She pays this 
 
 very cheerfully, and appeals to Joe 
 whether that is not better than the 
 other way. 
 
 " Why, Joe," says she, " to a wo- 
 man like me, that 's afoot all day, 't is 
 worth sixty pounds a year to be a 
 good slecjjcr ; and I should n't be 
 that if I had wronged my neiirh- 
 bor. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw is in a private lu- 
 natic asylum, and is taken great care of. 
 In his lucid intervals he suffers hor- 
 ril)le distress of mind ; but, though 
 sad to see, these agonies furnish the 
 one hope of his ultinuite recovery. 
 When not troubled by these returns 
 of reason, he is contented enough. 
 His favorite employment is to get Mr. 
 Undcrcliff 's f'ac-similes, and to write 
 love-letters to Helen Rolleston which 
 are duly deposited in the post-ofhce q/" 
 ilie estublishinoit. These letters are in 
 the handwriting of Charles I., Parli, 
 Lord Bacon, Alexander Pope, Lord 
 Chesterfield, Nelson, Lord Shaftes- 
 bury, Addison, the late Duke of 
 Wellington, and so on. And, strange 
 to say, tlie (xrcck e never a])pears in 
 any of them. They are admirably 
 like, though, of course, the matter is 
 not always equally consistent with the 
 characters of those personages. 
 
 Helen Rolleston married Robert 
 Penfold. On the wedding-day, the 
 presents were laid out, and amongst 
 tliem there was a silver box incrusted 
 with coral. Female curiosity de- 
 manded that this box should be 
 opened. Helen objected, but her 
 bridesmaids rebelled ; the wliole com- 
 pany sided with them, and Robert 
 smiled a careless assent. A black- 
 smith and carpenter were both en- 
 listed, and with infinite difficulty the 
 poor box was riven oj^en. 
 
 Inside was another box, locked, but 
 with no key. That was opened with 
 comparative ease, and then handed to 
 the bride. It conUiined nolbing l)ut 
 Papal itidiilgences and rough stones, 
 and fair throats were opened in some 
 disappointment. 
 
 A lady, however, of more expe- 
 rience, examined the contents, and
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 245 
 
 said, that, in her opinion, many of ' 
 them were uncut gems of great price ; 
 there were certainly a quantity of jas- 
 pers and bloodstones, and others of 
 no value at all. "But look at these 
 two pearl-shaped diamonds," said she ; 
 " why, they are a little fortune ! and 
 Oh!" The stone that struck this 
 fair creature dumb was a rough ruby 
 as big as a blackbird's egg, and of 
 amazing depth and fire. " No lady in 
 England," said she, " has a ruby to 
 compare with this." 
 
 The information proved correct. 
 The box furnislied Helen with dia- 
 monds and emeralds of great thickness 
 
 and quality. But the huge ruby 
 placed her on a level with sovereigns. 
 She wears it now and then in Lon- 
 don, but not often. It attracts too 
 much attention, blazing on her fair 
 Ibrehead like a star, and eclipses ev- 
 erything. 
 
 Well, what her ruby is amongst 
 stones she is amongst wives. And he 
 is worthy of her. Through much in- 
 justice, suftering, danger, and trouble, 
 they have passed to health, happiness, 
 and peace, and that entire union of 
 two noble hearts, in loyal friendship 
 and wedded love, which is the truest 
 bliss this earth aifords. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Cambridge : Electrotj'ped and Printed by Welch, Bigelow, & Co.