Chapter 11

Jim, however, did not heed his companion's advice; he undressed, jumped into bed, and was soon asleep. Shortlegs sat smoking his pipe for a while, then rose and commenced a survey of the room. He looked under the bed, into a cupboard, behind the curtains, and then sat down and pondered over their strange experience. At last he pulled his boots and coat off, and was preparing to get into bed, when it occurred to him that he had not examined the wardrobe; so he jumped up, opened the door, stood gazing at the inside, closed the door, went to the bed, shook his mate into consciousness, and speaking in a loud whisper, he said--

"Jim, for God's sake get up!"

"What for?" said Jim.

"Because there's a dead 'un in the wardrobe," replied Shortlegs.

"A what?" asked Mr. Leigh.

"A corpse," responded his companion.

"Go on, don't talk such rot!"

"Very well, look for yourself," said the boatswain, who again opened the door, and exposed the dead body to view. James Leigh turned pallid and almost inarticulate. He could only touch his friend on the shoulder, and utter--

"My God, where are we? What shall we do with the corpse?"

Visions of being had up for murder had seized him. But he was quickly pulled up by his more discreet shipmate, who told him to cease speaking, allow the dead 'un to remain where he was, keep their boots off, open the window quietly, see how far it was to drop or to lower themselves down with the bedclothes. This being done, they found the plan of escape impracticable without being "nabbed," so they took the bold resolve of going out as they had come in, with their boots on. Before they had got half-way down the stairs they heard suppressed conversation. It was evident they were detected.

"Use your knuckle-duster, Jim, if necessary, and charge them with murder," whispered Shortlegs.

"You leave that to me, Shorty; I'm going to get out of this."

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, the room door, which was ajar, opened, and the man who showed them upstairs stood before them. He was in his sleeping clothes. They requested him to open the outer door and let them out, as they did not desire to remain any longer in the house. He asked why they were leaving comfortable lodgings on such a night. Jim being the spokesman, said they didn't like sleeping with corpses, and raising his voice with nervous courage, declared that if the door was not immediately opened he would stand a good chance of being put in the wardrobe where the other poor devil was. The wretched bully, shivering with passion and sudden fear, made a grab at Jim, and in an instant he was lying on the floor, and the two sailors opened the door and stepped out into the cold fog.

"My God, what an experience!" said Shorty. "What a lucky thing I looked in the wardrobe. We might have been given up to the police as the murderers; and that lady, as we thought, what a demon she must be to be connected with such."

"My dear fellow," said the second mate, "don't say anything wrong against the lady. How do we know but she is a prisoner, or in some way beholden to the rascal. What a strange thing she never appeared. I wonder if she was there. She must have been, as we heard voices."

"That's right enough," said the boatswain; "but was it her voice?"

"I never thought of that, Shorty. What d'ye say if we go back and try and learn more about this mysterious affair?"

"Not me," said Shorty; "I've had enough of this kind of experience."

"But," remonstrated the officer, "suppose the lady is in captivity?"

"Never mind that, boss. I don't care if there were twenty blessed women in captivity. I'm not going back, because I thinks the lady is in the swim."

"Nonsense, Shorts. She is an educated woman!"

"Yes; and I've heard, boss, of educated women doin' funny things. How d'ye know but it's her husband that's in the wardrobe, gov'nor? No, no; I knows some of these 'ere ladies, and I'm not a-going to mix myself up with them. And if you takes my advice you'll stick to me and get aboard as soon as we can. And keep this 'ere affair mum, or we may have a visit from some of her Majesty's detectives."

"Well," ejaculated James Leigh, "it is a mystery, and must remain such so far as we are concerned. But I am tempted to tell the police, as I feel certain that woman cannot be there of her own free will."

"Woman be d----d, boss! How do you know, as I said before, that she's not at the bottom of it? You never knew an affair like this that a woman had not her hand in it; and if you are going to give information, don't introduce your humble servant, who has his own ideas of this 'ere person."

The young fellows had talked on ever since they left the tomb of the dead, unheeding the direction in which they were going. When the fog cleared they found themselves amidst the East End slums, environed by all that was villainous. They were not long in winding their way aboard the _Betty Sharp_. The night's exploits made a deep impression on James Leigh; it caused him to review the Bohemian career he had lived ever since he ran away from the _Pacific_ in Chili. He resolved to pay a visit to his home in Wales, as he was so near, and in spite of strong protestations on the part of the captain he resigned his post. There was great rejoicing in the little village when he unexpectedly made his appearance. The news of the mutiny aboard the _Pacific_, and the tragic end of the captain, officers, and part of the crew preceded him. His family had blamed him for leaving at Iquique. They now said he had been guided by a strange but merciful Providence to his old home. He told the eager listeners of the family circle many tales of daring adventure as they sat in the cosy room by the fire, but whenever the gruesome figure of the dead man in the wardrobe crossed his mind he became reticent and pensive. These lapses did not go unnoticed, and he was often pressed for the cause of so sudden a change from mirth to sullen silence.

"I will tell you what it is," said he; "a corpse is the cause."

And then he told them all about it. James Leigh's change of life, manner, and habits dated from the dreaded night when he saw with his own eyes the ghastly figure of what he believed to be a murdered man. From being a roving, reckless, devil-may-care sailor, he settled into a steady, ambitious, capable man. He married a Welsh girl after his own heart, and forgot all about the daughter of the old Spaniard, who, if subsequent accounts were correct, pined for his return to Chili. Mrs. Leigh resented any allusion to the Spanish maiden. She always reminded her husband that people should marry their own countrywomen, and that instead of thinking of her he should be using his mind in attaining that knowledge that would enable him to reach the height of his profession. He was not long in satisfying the lady's ambition and his own. In less than five years from leaving the Yankee ship he was in command of a smart, up-to-date English steamer, trading between Mozambique and Zanzibar, trafficking in slaves and other merchandise. He made heaps of money for his owners, and was gifted with an aptitude for never neglecting himself in matters of finance. In due course the trade collapsed, and he was ordered to bring his vessel home. By this time his savings from several sources had accumulated to a decent little fortune, and with it he resolved to start business on his own account. He sought the aid of a few friends, and was enabled to purchase a small steamer. It was while he was on a visit to this much-boasted-of craft that he came across Shorty at a fair outside Cardiff. The rugged ex-boatswain had a machine for trying strength, and asked him to have a go. Captain Leigh recognized his old shipmate by a defect in his speech, and made himself known. Shorty was filled with delight, and would have given him the whole show. He rushed off, called out to a lady who was attending to the machine, and brought her to be introduced.

"This is my bit o' cracklen, Jim. She's a good 'un, she is. Now, don't ye be a-fallin' in love with her, James, as you used to with the other girls out in Chili, ancetera, ancetera. Don't ye reckonize her? Don't ye remember that fine hotel we landed in, and the wardrobe and one or two other incidents?"

"I do," said Captain James Leigh; "but surely this is not?"

"Yes, it is," said the proud husband. "It's she, isn't it, chubby?"

The lady merely nodded her head and smiled.

"Then what have you been doing, Shorty, all these years?"

"This," said he, pointing to the show. "I never got over the 'orror of that night, so I made my mind up not to go a rovin' agen; and this 'ere girl, that I thought so badly of, 'as helped me to make a livin' ever since I came across her. Very queer, you was right; she was sort o' confined to the 'ouse, but had nothin' to do with the corpse. She didn't know of it until I told her."

"My God! don't talk of it, Shorts. I cannot bear to think of it even now. But how did you pick her up?"

"At the docks," said John Shorts. "She came to look for us, and I took on with her and got married."

"You must have had a strong belief in her."

"Yes; and so would you if you knew her as I do. I'd trust my money, and my life, and everything with her. D'ye see that waggon of mats and baskets? That's her department; started on her own 'ook. My word, she's a daisy."

"Well, Shorty, I'm delighted to see you. And now I must be going. You seem quite happy."

"Happy," said the boatswain, "that's not a name for it. It's 'eaven on earth this 'ere thing," looking and pointing at his wife. Breaking off quickly, he said, "'Ave ye ever heard from Chili, Jim?"

"Oh yes," said he; "I had a letter only the other day from Dutchy. The old owner died, and left all his money to his two daughters and Dutchy, who married the eldest."

"That's a bit thick, isn't it, Jim--for that fat Dutchman to go wandering about the Spanish Main doin' all sorts of things, and then fall on his feet like this?"

"Well," said Jim, "you have fallen on your feet, so you say; and I'm sure I have."

"That's right," said Shorts. "I wasn't thinken' that the wife was standin' by."

The lady quietly smiled, shook hands with her husband's late chum, and walked off towards her caravan. Captain Leigh endeavoured to draw Shorty to tell him about his wife, but the old sailor evaded all his questions.

"Well," said Leigh, "this has been a joyful meeting to me, and if we never met again, God bless you!"

"The same to you, Jim," said Shorts. "Good-bye, old chap."

The two men never did meet again. James Leigh is now a prosperous merchant, and may be seen any day in a smart-cut "frocker" and silk hat, having his lunch at a bar, surrounded with kindred spirits, telling his wonderful tales--some truthful, others well padded, but all interesting.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 3: It may be said in passing that America at that period, and for some years later, supplied Great Britain and other nations with the finest and fastest ships afloat, large and small. The Americans have always had a reputation of doing things on a large scale. Unmistakably their vessels were bad to beat. Their crews were well paid and well fed. They had the best cooks and stewards in the world; but the inadequacy of their manning, and the cruel treatment of the poor wretches who composed the crew, was a national disgrace. An American vessel with a mediocre crew aboard was nothing short of a hell afloat, and even with an average lot of men it was little better, unless they had the courage and the capacity to straighten the officers out, which was sometimes done with salutary effect.]