Part 11

"Came to me two years ago with a clean score," chimed in the captain of the _Elora_, "and I ain't had no fault to find with 'im since. 'Honest Daniel' he's called, too, by the crew."

"He has certainly shown the greatest attention to me during my illness; has been thoughtful and obliging in the extreme," said the supercargo. "Yet it seems to me, captain," he added, after a thoughtful pause, "that my memory is still better than yours. Don't you remember the conversation we had in your cabin in July on the subject of the thefts? or is it merely the fancy of a poor brain that has had much to bear these last three months?"

"Conversation in July, in my cabin, about thefts?" repeated the captain, slowly and thoughtfully. "Well, now you mention it, I do. But I fail to see its connection."

He stopped, deep in thought, his eyes fixed on the invalid's white face. A momentary pause ensued, then, recollecting himself, he gave his thigh a mighty smack with his horny hand, and exclaimed:--

"By Jove, but I do, though! You're right, sir, you're right! What a lubber I've been to forget that Daniel White said he'd known Jasper Ivory at Bristol, an' that he claimed a knowledge o' some o' his ships! The whole thing comes back to me now. White told one o' the sailors about his changin' the names of his ships fro' time to time; and Baines, who heard the yarn, told me. Mebbe we'd better hear it again from the second mate's own lips to be certain, though it strikes me circumstances are sufficiently suspicious to warrant our clapping Daniel White into irons at once."

"They are, indeed, captain," said the doctor, in his coolest professional manner; "but, by your leave--and you are, of course, master on board your own ship--we will do nothing in a hurry. We've got to prove our case beyond dispute by obtaining possession of some of the poison, which, if we take care not to arouse suspicion, will doubtless be again administered, probably in the drinking water, since Eserine, the noxious element of Calabar bean, is tasteless in solution. Then, we mustn't forget that there are two criminals who have had a hand in this affair, and that a too hasty action on our part might result in the principal one escaping. No; let us be content for the time being to keep an eye on this pretty steward of yours. And now, Mr. Lees," turning to the sick man, who, overcome with excitement, was lying in his berth with closed eyes, "I will leave you until to-morrow in the good hands of Captain Graham."

Almost on the very day predicted by the doctor Joseph Lees was able to put his feet to the ground and sit up for two or three hours in his chair. Dr. Maxwell and Captain Graham were once more with him, talking over the events of the past week and discussing future plans. For several unexpected things had happened since the day on which it was discovered that an attempt had been made on the supercargo's life, and one of these--the disappearance of Daniel White--had completely altered their plan of campaign. The steward, who had evidently taken alarm at the doctor's repeated visits, the presence of the _Thunderbolt_, and the guard that was placed upon Lees' food and drink, had escaped down a rope and, unperceived by the watch until it was too late to hope to be able to put a bullet through him, had swum out to one of Ivory's ships, one of which--the _Florentia_, in all probability, since it was no longer in the roadstead when morning came--had taken him on board.

"Fate has certainly been against us," said the doctor, "and I'm sorry, captain, that I didn't follow your suggestion to take the fellow into custody whilst we had the chance. From the point of view of a case against Jasper Ivory, my blunder, unfortunately, has had disastrous consequences. There's a moral certainty he was the instigator of the crime, but without our hands on Daniel White's collar we cannot bring forward anything that would lead to the conviction of the captain of the _Gurango_. With the plea of absolute ignorance as to the very existence of this steward, he would be acquitted without a doubt."

"You're the last man in the world, doctor, who needs to reproach himself," responded Captain Graham. "You did the main thing, after all, when you arrested the assassin's hand. But for you Mr. Lees would have been takin' a longer voyage than from 'ere to the old country. And we sha'n't be long now afore we sails, thank goodness."

"The sooner you wind up your affairs and get away from the stench of Ichaboe the better for both of you," said Dr. Maxwell. "I should strongly advise you, Mr. Lees, to touch at St. Helena on your way home. The air there is particularly bracing, and a fortnight's sojourn will put new life into you. Indeed, the climate is so favourable to convalescents that some of my patients----"

The doctor's sentence was at this moment broken off short by the appearance of the second mate in the open doorway.

"Beg pardon for interrupting you, gentlemen," he said, "but Captain Ivory is here and would like to speak with Mr. Lees for a few minutes."

Before either Captain Graham or the supercargo had time to protest against his impertinent intrusion, the captain of the _Gurango_, with all his old assurance, had brushed past Baines and was advancing into the cabin.

"Good morning, captain; good morning, gentlemen all," he said briskly, and with a nod to each. "Very glad to see, Mr. Chairman, that you are on the high road to recovery. Mackenzie told me yesterday that you'd been making great progress lately, so I thought I'd come round and have a chat with you before you sailed, which I gather from him you'll be doing very shortly. You're a lucky man to be able to get from this wretched place--with your fortune made, I warrant, but a very unpleasant recollection, withal, of the infernal climate."

For several moments, which seemed an eternity of time, so dead was the silence, no one replied. The three men--a little taken aback at Ivory's audacity--gazed at him with frankly hostile eyes. The first to speak was Dr. Maxwell, in slowly pronounced phrases, as keen as a lancet:--

"In saying that my patient is a lucky man in being able to get away from Ichaboe, you never spoke truer words in your life, Jasper Ivory. But you are wrong if you imagine that we are such ignoramuses as to attribute his illness to what you are pleased to call the infernal climate. Infernal climate, forsooth! But I am forgetting that you are a layman, liable, now and then, to express yourself inaccurately, and, of course, totally ignorant in the matter of diseases or drugs--particularly poisons. I may tell you, therefore, that the initial cause of Mr. Lees' malady has been traced to one of the precious pack of rascals whom he had to keep in order here. I suppose a simple seaman like you has never seen any seeds like these before? I found them in the locker of Daniel White, late steward of the _Elora_--a man who, curiously enough, was an old friend of yours."

The doctor, as he said these words, took a number of claret-coloured seeds out of his waist-coat pocket and held them out on the palm of his hand for Captain Ivory's inspection, closely watching his face the while. But not a muscle moved; and it was with absolute control over both voice and features that Jasper replied, nonchalantly:--

"What a beautiful colour! And what may be the name of those pretty things, doctor? I rely on your superior knowledge, which appears to cover a wider field than science, since you've just made me the friend of a man of whom I've never heard in my life."

"We scientists call them the seeds of _Physostigma venenosum_; but they are known amongst you sailors as Calabar beans. Considering that there isn't a mariner cruising on the West Coast of Africa who doesn't know them, your education appears to have been singularly neglected. However, Daniel White will be able to complete it for you when the _Gurango_ rejoins the _Florentia_, on which ship--for the time being, at any rate--he escaped from justice."

At this Captain Jasper could preserve his self-possession no longer.

"So you persist in coupling your confounded steward with me and my ships, do you?" he said, hotly. "Then let me tell you that you can talk enigmas and concoct your inventions until you are black in the face. I don't care _that_ for them," snapping his fingers; "and I'll see you all three in Hades before you'll get another civil word from me!"

In a flash he had left them and was out on deck, where he continued to vent his anger by a torrent of oaths. Dr. Maxwell and the captain of the _Elora_ watched him with aggravating coolness as he was being rowed away, a sullen, malicious look in his eyes. "His face was a study for a criminologist," was the doctor's pregnant comment on returning to the cabin.

Lees saw no more of Ivory before the _Elora_ set sail for St. Helena, but he had not yet finished with that remarkable man; and so dramatic and unexpected was his next meeting with his enemy to be, that its every circumstance remained fresh in his mind to the day of his death.

The ill wrought on Joseph Lees' constitution was more deep seated than even so astute a man as Dr. Alexander Maxwell could foresee. After his departure from Ichaboe, which he devoutly hoped he would never set eyes on again, he had a serious relapse--so serious that, on the third day of the voyage to St. Helena, he gave up all his papers to Captain Graham, believing that he would not reach his destination alive. However, on New Year's morning, 1845, the first perspiration that he had had for nine months brought relief, and from that day progress towards recovery, though slow, was sure.

As the _Elora_ came within sight of St. Helena, which from the sea looks like a bare and arid rock, the supercargo, who was sitting on deck in a despondent mood, found himself likening it to an immense tomb. Would it be his? Almost inclined at that moment to abandon all hope and answer in the affirmative, he fell to musing, his eyes fixed on the island. Black thoughts gave place to more cheerful ones, however, as the ship drew near to land, for its aspect gradually changed from the forbidding to the inviting. The verdure-covered mountains of the interior, their rounded summits reaching to the clouds, became more and more distinct; and though these disappeared when the _Elora_ got within shorter range of the perpendicular rocky cliffs, the watcher had soon the great satisfaction of once more setting eyes on human habitations--the houses and buildings of James Town, crowded within the narrow ravine formed by the almost vertical sides of Rupert's Hill and Ladder Hill. His sense of joy on returning to the haunts of men and civilization became still keener when he had actually landed and was being carried through the main street of the town--a street of solidly built houses, many with stone steps and iron railings leading up to the front doors, some with bow-windows and others with verandas.

Recommended to put up at "the first house in the island," Lees was taken to the Rose and Crown, kept by Charles Fuller, an old-established resident. The letter from which I have already quoted was written from that hotel, three days after his arrival, and in it he says to his son: "I have two of the first doctors on the island, who are altering my treatment; and what effect it may have God alone knows. They are, too, for changing my residence from town to the very house and room where Napoleon lived until Longwood was made ready, and my nurse is the same person who nursed Mme. Bertrand.[6] Things are very dear here, and for all this I have to pay well; but whatever will contribute to my comfort and recovery I will have and pay for cheerfully. Thank God, I can afford it."

[6] The Mme. Bertrand here referred to was the wife of Count Henri Gratien de Bertrand, the faithful general who followed Napoleon into exile.

This nurse, Mme. MacDonald, _née_ Valadon, had a Frenchwoman's admiration for the great captive and everything connected with him; she bitterly hated the British Government and Sir Hudson Lowe; she was fond of acrimoniously expressing her views on events long since past, and she delighted in telling her patients anecdote after anecdote from her vast store of information respecting Napoleon. Certain it is, too, that her reputation as a nurse was considerable, especially among the few French inhabitants that remained, otherwise the supercargo's doctors would never have strongly advised him, as they did, to continue to employ her when he removed from the Rose and Crown to the Briars, that little estate on which Bonaparte resided, in company with Mr. Balcombe and his family, while Longwood Old House was being prepared for his reception.

The Briars consisted--and still consists, I believe--of two houses, one called the Pavilion, where Napoleon lived, and another building to the left, both situated on a plateau at the foot of hills and buried in trees. A fine garden and grass fields adjoined, and the surrounding country was then, as now, precipitous and wildly picturesque. This beautiful little estate was some mile and a half from James Town, and access was gained to it by a road winding up the side of the rugged hill. Both houses, comfortably furnished, chancing to be let (owing to the owner's temporary absence in England) when Joseph Lees arrived in St. Helena, he rented the smaller for two months, at the end of which time, said the doctors, he ought to have sufficiently recovered his health and strength to be able to proceed home.

One bright morning about the middle of January, four sturdy "yamstalks," or inhabitants of composite origin, laboriously mounted the hillside above the town, carrying the invalid on a _chaise à porteurs_ extemporized out of an arm-chair and a couple of poles. Nurse MacDonald walked by his side, chattering vivaciously.

"Never before or since have I heard such vivid narratives as those of Nurse MacDonald," said Joseph Lees in after years when relating his adventures. "She was certainly a very remarkable woman. But with all her cleverness, there was something about her that made me distrust her from the very beginning. She was given to falling into periods of morose silence, and on more than one occasion, during my first fortnight's residence at the Briars, she struck me as being a woman whom it would be better to have as a friend than as an enemy. In short, the longer I was acquainted with her, the more uncomfortable did I feel. At first I attributed my feelings to prejudice, to the morbid effects of my illness; but as I got to know her better, and as my bodily health rapidly returned, I had finally to confess that I could not be altogether mistaken, and that the sooner I brought my sojourn in the hills of St. Helena to an end the better it would be for my peace of mind. After events proved that I was right, and that our first impressions of a person are sometimes to be trusted."

The dread--and there is no other word to express the feeling--that Joseph Lees finally came to have for the Briars was first awakened by an incident that occurred there after his first month's residence. As near as possible, I will describe it in his own words.

* * * * *

"I shall remember the night of that incident," he would begin, "as long as I live. The impression that it made at the time appeared to be slight, but in the light of after events it became indelible. It was midnight, and I was perusing a letter which I had just written to my son in the dim light of a candle placed on a little table near my bed on which I was stretched. The captain of one of the vessels which I myself had chartered had brought me that day fresh information from Ichaboe, and, as he was to sail on the following morning, I was anxious that he should take my epistle with him. After giving certain instructions in regard to the sale of the cargo, I proceeded to speak of my health and of the renewal of the troubles on the island. 'I have now some hopes of returning home, as I am much better,' I wrote. 'We have suffered greatly by robberies of guano, even to the tune of thousands. Disturbances and battles are frequent between the soldiers and the crews, who want and will have cargo. There are yet three hundred and fifty ships in the roadstead of Ichaboe, though there are not twenty cargoes on the island, and these are all expecting to beat the authorities and take it from the owners. Three hundred men made an attack the other day, and got from the chairman's pit as many tons before the soldiers proved masters. In consequence of all these things we shall not be able to fill all the ships named in the list, and there are six more to come that will not get more than half a ----'

"I had reached this part of my letter when I broke off, my attention being attracted by the sound of voices. At first I imagined that it was Mme. MacDonald talking to herself, as she was in the habit of doing, but on listening I could distinguish another voice. A feeling of alarm suddenly came over me and impelled me to blow out the candle.

"'Who could my nurse's visitor be?' I asked myself, as I jumped off the bed and approached the long French windows that opened on to a little veranda. To find anyone calling upon her at such an hour was, to say the least, strange. Stranger still, I seemed to know the voice of the person who was talking with her, but where I had heard it before I could not for the life of me tell. There was no doubt, however, that it was that of a man, and that the language in which he was conversing was French, of which I knew sufficient to seize a phrase now and then. From the words 'arrivé aujourd'hui,' 'voyage,' 'fatigue,' I came to the conclusion that the speaker must be a sailor who had arrived at the port of James Town after a long and fatiguing voyage; and on hearing him addressed as 'mon fils,' my mind immediately began to weave a story around the mother and the son. Their relationship thus established, I felt much less alarmed than I had been at first; so I refrained from further eavesdropping and retired to rest. But, though I tried my hardest, I could not get to sleep for hours. Again and again I found myself dwelling on the question: 'Where have I heard that voice before?'

"On the following morning, much to my surprise, the visitor was nowhere to be seen. Having fully expected to meet this sailor son of hers, I expressed my regret that he had gone so early.

"'A visitor, monsieur?' she replied, with well-feigned astonishment. 'Since no one has come here during the last twenty-four hours, no one can have departed. You have been dreaming, monsieur--one of the consequences, no doubt, of your illness. I hope not a nightmare? Monsieur must not sit up so late at night. It is an imprudence when still so weak.'

"I had not been dreaming, but I did not contradict her. She evidently had reasons for concealing from me the fact that her son had paid her a nocturnal visit; and as I could conceive these reasons to be of such a nature as to warrant her little subterfuge, I decided to poke my nose no further into her affairs. What business was it of mine if she cared to receive her son in secret? Why should I trouble my head over the question as to whether she had or had not--as, indeed, she affirmed--a sailor son? Nevertheless, the old question recurred as regards the disconcerting resemblance of his voice to that of someone whom I had once met--but where I could not recall.

"The mystery, as you will soon hear, was to be unveiled three days later. I had gone to bed about ten o'clock, but, being unable to sleep, had arisen at midnight, intending to dress myself and spend a few hours over my accounts. About to strike a light, the creaking of the veranda under someone's footsteps attracted my attention and drew me to the window. Fortunate it was that I had done so before lighting the candle, for, on looking out into the darkness, I was just in time to catch sight of the dim figure of a man creeping stealthily along in the direction of the entrance to Mme. MacDonald's room. After proceeding a couple of yards or so he stopped, gave a low whistle, and at the same time so turned his head that, in the light of the moon, which up to then had been obscured, I could see his face in profile. One glance was enough. It was Jasper Ivory--the last man in the world whom I should have expected to be my nurse's son! Suddenly awakened to a sense of my danger--for I knew that this ruffian had vowed vengeance upon me, and in my weakened state I was no match for him--I sprang back into the room, huddled on my clothes with the greatest rapidity, and after stowing away my money and as many of my papers as I could get together in the dark, once more crept to the window. Ivory had disappeared into the old woman's room, whence, amidst the dead stillness of the night, came the hum of their voices. Were they plotting my destruction? I wondered.

"Having opened the long window, I noiselessly slipped out on to the veranda, turned to the left, in the opposite direction to where they were in consultation, and rapidly passed down a small flight of steps into the garden. What a relief it was to feel that I was free! I lost no time, I can tell you, in making my way as best I could to the limit of the grounds, where there was a pathway that would lead me to the main road and James Town. But before I had reached the fence that enclosed the Briars a cry from the house told me that my escape had been discovered, and somehow or other I failed to find the path I was seeking. There was nothing to be done, therefore, but to push on in the darkness at hazard. Stumbling over rocks and shrubs, my progress was exceedingly slow. My weakness, too, hindered me considerably, and I was more than once forced to stop and rest. On one of these occasions I turned round and saw that the search for me was continuing. Two lights were moving about among the shrubberies. Suddenly one of them stopped; there was a cry from the holder of the lantern--cry that I could easily recognise as coming from Ivory, and the next moment he was rapidly moving forward in my direction. He had found my track at last!

"Through the rocky, hilly country surrounding the Briars he pursued me, tenacious as a bloodhound. Owing to the fact that he had a lantern, and was thus able to avoid the obstacles which frequently impeded my progress, he covered the ground much quicker than I did. He also had an advantage in being in a perfect state of health. On the other hand, he had this against him--I was better able to follow his movements, thanks to his light, than he mine. Quick to see that I might turn this to profit, I decided, since it was inevitable he would overtake me, to lie in wait for him behind some convenient boulder, to attack him unawares, to disarm him if he carried a weapon, and then to render him harmless by methods which--as an old North-country wrestler--I felt were still within the range of my powers.