CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
OTHER THINGS BESIDES MURDER "WILL OUT."
Meanwhile Davy Spink, with his heart full, returned slowly to the shore.
He was long of reaching it, the boat being very heavy for one man topull. On landing he hurried up to his poor little cottage, which was ina very low part of the town, and in a rather out-of-the-way corner ofthat part.
"Janet," said he, flinging himself into a rickety old armchair thatstood by the fireplace, "the press-gang has catched us at last, andthey've took Big Swankie away, and, worse than that--"
"Oh!" cried Janet, unable to wait for more, "that's the best news I'veheard for mony a day. Ye're sure they have him safe?"
"Ay, sure enough," said Spink dryly; "but ye needna be sae glad abootit, for. Swankie was aye good to _you_."
"Ay, Davy," cried Janet, putting her arm round her husband's neck, andkissing him, "but he wasna good to _you_. He led ye into evil ways monya time when ye would rather hae keepit oot o' them. Na, na, Davy, yeneedna shake yer heed; I ken'd fine."
"Weel, weel, hae'd yer ain way, lass, but Swankie's awa' to the wars,and so's Ruby Brand, for they've gotten him as weel."
"Ruby Brand!" exclaimed the woman.
"Ay, Ruby Brand; and this is the way they did it."
Here Spink detailed to his helpmate, who sat with folded hands andstaring eyes opposite to her husband, all that had happened. When hehad concluded, they discussed the subject together. Presently thelittle girl came bouncing into the room, with rosy cheeks, sparklingeyes, a dirty face, and fair ringlets very much dishevelled, and with apitcher of hot soup in her hands.
Davy caught her up, and kissing her, said abruptly, "Maggie, BigSwankie's awa' to the wars."
The child looked enquiringly in her father's face, and he had to repeathis words twice before she quite realised the import of them.
"Are ye jokin', daddy?"
"No, Maggie; it's true. The press-gang got him and took him awa', an' Idoot we'll never see him again."
The little girl's expression changed while he spoke, then her liptrembled, and she burst into tears.
"See there, Janet," said Spink, pointing to Maggie, and lookingearnestly at his wife.
"Weel-a-weel," replied Janet, somewhat softened, yet with much firmness,"I'll no deny that the man was fond o' the bairn, and it liked him weelenough; but, my certes! he wad hae made a bad man o' you if he could.But I'm real sorry for Ruby Brand; and what'll the puir lassie Gray do?Ye'll hae to gang up an' gie them the message."
"So I will; but that's like somethin' to eat, I think?"
Spink pointed to the soup.
"Ay, it's a' we've got, so let's fa' to; and haste ye, lad. It's a sairheart she'll hae this night--wae's me!"
While Spink and his wife were thus employed, Widow Brand, Minnie Gray,and Captain Ogilvy were seated at tea, round the little table in thesnug kitchen of the widow's cottage.
It might have been observed that there were two teapots on the table, alarge one and a small, and that the captain helped himself out of thesmall one, and did not take either milk or sugar. But the captain'steapot did not necessarily imply tea. In fact, since the death of thecaptain's mother, that small teapot had been accustomed to strong drinkonly. It never tasted tea.
"I wonder if Ruby will get leave of absence," said the captain, throwinghimself back in his armchair, in order to be able to admire, withgreater ease, the smoke, as it curled towards the ceiling from his mouthand pipe.
"I do hope so," said Mrs Brand, looking up from her knitting, with alittle sigh. Mrs Brand usually followed up all her remarks with alittle sigh. Sometimes the sigh was _very_ little. It depended a gooddeal on the nature of her remark whether the sigh was of the little,less, or least description; but it never failed, in one or other degree,to close her every observation.
"I _think_ he will," said Minnie, as she poured a second cup of tea forthe widow.
"Ay, that's right, lass," observed the captain; "there's nothin' likehope--
"`The pleasures of hope told a flatterin' tale Regardin' the fleet when Lord Nelson set sail.'
"Fill me out another cup of tea, Hebe."
It was a pleasant little fiction with the captain to call his beverage"tea". Minnie filled out a small cupful of the contents of the littleteapot, which did, indeed, resemble tea, but which smelt marvellouslylike hot rum and water.
"Enough, enough. Come on, Macduff! Ah! Minnie, this is prime Jamaica;it's got such a--but I forgot; you don't understand nothin' about nectarof this sort."
The captain smoked in silence for a few minutes, and then said, with asudden chuckle--
"Wasn't it odd, sister, that we should have found it all out in such aneasy sort o' way? If criminals would always tell on themselves asplainly as Big Swankie did, there would be no use for lawyers."
"Swankie would not have spoken so freely," said Minnie, with a laugh,"if he had known that we were listening."
"That's true, girl," said the captain, with sudden gravity; "and I don'tfeel quite easy in my mind about that same eavesdropping. It's a dirtything to do--especially for an old sailor, who likes everything to befair and above-board; but then, you see, the natur' o' the words wecouldn't help hearin' justified us in waitin' to hear more. Yes, it wasquite right, as it turned out. A little more tea, Minnie. Thank'ee,lass. Now go, get the case, and let us look over it again."
The girl rose, and, going to a drawer, quickly returned with a small redleather case in her hand. It was the identical jewel-case that Swankiehad found on the dead body at the Bell Rock!
"Ah! that's it; now, let us see; let us see." He laid aside his pipe,and for some time felt all his pockets, and looked round the room, as ifin search of something.
"What are you looking for, uncle?"
"The specs, lass; these specs'll be the death o' me."
Minnie laughed. "They're on your brow, uncle!"
"So they are! Well, well--"
The captain smiled deprecatingly, and, drawing his chair close to thetable, began to examine the box.
Its contents were a strange mixture, and it was evident that the casehad not been made to hold them.
There was a lady's gold watch, of very small size, and beautifullyformed; a set of ornaments, consisting of necklace, bracelets, ring, andear-rings of turquoise and pearls set in gold, of the most delicate andexquisite chasing; also, an antique diamond cross of great beauty,besides a number of rings and bracelets of considerable value.
As the captain took these out one by one, and commented on them, he madeuse of Minnie's pretty hand and arm to try the effect of each, and trulythe ornaments could not have found a more appropriate resting-placeamong the fairest ladies of the land.
Minnie submitted to be made use of in this way with a pleased and amusedexpression; for, while she greatly admired the costly gems, she couldnot help smiling at the awkwardness of the captain in putting them on.
"Read the paper again," said Minnie, after the contents of the box hadbeen examined.
The captain took up a small parcel covered with oiled cloth, whichcontained a letter. Opening it, he began to read, but was interruptedby Mrs Brand, who had paid little attention to the jewels.
"Read it out loud, brother," said she, "I don't hear you well. Read itout; I love to hear of my darling's gallant deeds."
The captain cleared his throat, raised his voice, and read slowly:--
"`Lisbon, 10th March, 1808.
"`Dear Captain Brand,--I am about to quit this place for the East in a few days, and shall probably never see you again. Pray accept the accompanying case of jewels as a small token of the love and esteem in which you are held by a heart-broken father. I feel assured that if it had been in the power of man to have saved my drowning child your gallant efforts would have been successful. It was ordained otherwise; and I now pray that I may be enabled to say "God's will be done." But I cannot bear the sight of these ornaments. I have no relatives--none a
t least who deserve them half so well as yourself. Do not pain me by refusing them. They may be of use to you if you are ever in want of money, being worth, I believe, between three and four hundred pounds. Of course, you cannot misunderstand my motive in mentioning this. No amount of money could in any measure represent the gratitude I owe to the man who risked his life to save my child. May God bless you, sir.'"
The letter ended thus, without signature; and the captain ceased to readaloud. But there was an addition to the letter written in pencil, inthe hand of the late Captain Brand, which neither he nor Minnie had yetfound courage to read to the poor widow. It ran thus:--
"Our doom is sealed. My schooner is on the Bell Rock. It is blowing a gale from the North East, and she is going to pieces fast. We are all standing under the lee of a ledge of rock--six of us. In half an hour the tide will be roaring over the spot. God in Christ help us! It is an awful end. If this letter and box is ever found, I ask the finder to send it, with my blessing, to Mrs Brand, my beloved wife, in Arbroath."
The writing was tremulous, and the paper bore the marks of having beensoiled with seaweed. It was unsigned. The writer had evidently beenobliged to close it hastily.
After reading this in silence the captain refolded the letter.
"No wonder, Minnie, that Swankie did not dare to offer such things forsale. He would certainly have been found out. Wasn't it lucky that weheard him tell Spink the spot under his floor where he had hidden them?"
At that moment there came a low knock to the door. Minnie opened it,and admitted Davy Spink, who stood in the middle of the room twitchinghis cap nervously, and glancing uneasily from one to another of theparty.
"Hallo, Spink!" cried the captain, pushing his spectacles up on hisforehead, and gazing at the fisherman in surprise, "you don't seem to bequite easy in your mind. Hope your fortunes have not sprung a leak!"
"Weel, Captain Ogilvy, they just have; gone to the bottom, I mighta'most say. I've come to tell ye--that--the fact is, that thepress-gang have catched us at last, and ta'en awa' my mate, JockSwankie, better kenn'd as Big Swankie."
"Hem--well, my lad, in so far as that does damage to you, I'm sorry forit; but as regards society at large, I rather think that Swankie havin'tripped his anchor is a decided advantage. If you lose by this in oneway, you gain much in another; for your mate's companionship did ye nogood. Birds of a feather should flock together. You're better apart,for I believe you to be an honest man, Spink."
Davy looked at the captain in unfeigned astonishment.
"Weel, ye're the first man that iver said that, an' I thank 'ee, sir,but you're wrang, though I wush ye was right. But that's no' what Icam' to tell ye."
Here the fisherman's indecision of manner returned.
"Come, make a clean breast of it, lad. There are none here butfriends."
"Weel, sir, Ruby Brand--"
He paused, and Minnie turned deadly pale, for she jumped at once to theright conclusion. The widow, on the other hand, listened for more withdeep anxiety, but did not guess the truth.
"The fact is, Ruby's catched too, an' he's awa' to the wars, and he sentme to--ech, sirs! the auld wuman's fentit."
Poor Widow Brand had indeed fallen back in her chair in a statebordering on insensibility. Minnie was able to restrain her feelings soas to attend to her. She and the captain raised her gently, and led herinto her own room, from whence the captain returned, and shut the doorbehind him.
"Now, Spink," said he, "tell me all about it, an' be partic'lar."
Davy at once complied, and related all that the reader already knows, ina deep, serious tone of voice, for he felt that in the captain he had asympathetic listener.
When he had concluded, Captain Ogilvy heaved a sigh so deep that itmight have been almost considered a groan, then he sat down on hisarmchair, and, pointing to the chair from which the widow had recentlyrisen, said, "Sit down, lad."
As he advanced to comply, Spink's eyes for the first time fell on thecase of jewels. He started, paused, and looked with a troubled air atthe captain.
"Ha!" exclaimed the latter with a grin; "you seem to know these things;old acquaintances, eh?"
"It wasna' me that stole them," said Spink hastily.
"I did not say that anyone stole them."
"Weel, I mean that--that--"
He stopped abruptly, for he felt that in whatever way he might attemptto clear himself, he would unavoidably criminate, by implication, hisabsent mate.
"I know what you mean, my lad; sit down."
Spink sat down on the edge of the chair, and looked at the otheruneasily.
"Have a cup of tea?" said the captain abruptly, seizing the small potand pouring out a cupful.
"Thank 'ee--I--I niver tak' tea."
"Take it to-night, then. It will do you good."
Spink put the cup to his lips, and a look of deep surprise overspreadhis rugged countenance as he sipped the contents. The captain nodded.Spink's look of surprise changed into a confidential smile; he alsonodded, winked, and drained the cup to the bottom.
"Yes," resumed the captain; "you mean that you did not take the case ofjewels from old Brand's pocket on that day when you found his body onthe Bell Rock, though you were present, and saw your comrade pocket thebooty. You see I know all about it, Davy, an' your only fault lay inconcealing the matter, and in keepin' company with that scoundrel."
The gaze of surprise with which Spink listened to the first part of thisspeech changed to a look of sadness towards the end of it.
"Captain Ogilvy," said he, in a tone of solemnity that was a strongcontrast to his usual easy, careless manner of speaking, "you ca'd me anhonest man, an' ye think I'm clear o' guilt in this matter, but ye'remista'en. Hoo ye cam' to find oot a' this I canna divine, but I cantell ye somethin' mair than ye ken. D'ye see that bag?"
He pulled a small leather purse out of his coat pocket, and laid it witha little bang on the table.
The captain nodded.
"Weel, sir, that was _my_ share o' the plunder, thretty gooldensovereigns. We tossed which o' us was to hae them, an' the siller fellto me. But I've niver spent a boddle o't. Mony a time have I beentempit, an' mony a time wad I hae gi'en in to the temptation, but for acertain lass ca'd Janet, that's been an angel, it's my belief, sent doonfrae heeven to keep me frae gawin to the deevil a'thegither. But bethat as it may, I've brought the siller to them that owns it by right,an' so my conscience is clear o't at lang last."
The sigh of relief with which Davy Spink pushed the bag of gold towardshis companion, showed that the poor man's mind was in truth releasedfrom a heavy load that had crushed it for years.
The captain, who had lit his pipe, stared at the fisherman through thesmoke for some time in silence; then he began to untie the purse, andsaid slowly, "Spink, I said you were an honest man, an' I see no causeto alter my opinion."
He counted out the thirty gold pieces, put them back into the bag, andthe bag into his pocket. Then he continued, "Spink, if this gold wasmine I would--but no matter, it's not mine, it belongs to Widow Brand,to whom I shall deliver it up. Meantime, I'll bid you good night. Allthese things require reflection. Call back here to-morrow, my finefellow, and I'll have something to say to you. Another cup of tea?"
"Weel, I'll no objec'."
Davy Spink rose, swallowed the beverage, and left the cottage. Thecaptain returned, and stood for some time irresolute with his hand onthe handle of the door of his sister's room. As he listened, he heard asob, and the tones of Minnie's voice as if in prayer. Changing hismind, he walked softly across the kitchen into his own room, where,having trimmed the candle, refilled and lit his pipe, he sat down at thetable, and, resting his arms thereon, began to meditate.
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