CHAPTER XCIX.
HOW CAPTAIN ROBINSON CAME TO APPLY HIS LEECH AGAIN--WHAT CAME OFIT--THE SEA GIVES UP ITS DEAD--A FEARSOME SIGHT--THE TRAITOR'STERROR--JOE DEERING WIPES OFF AN OLD SCORE.
Captain Robinson was more jovial than ever.
His honest-looking, ruddy face was beaming with smiles, and he appearedas hearty as the most honest, upright and plain-sailing fellow in theworld.
Captain Robinson was like most sailors in one respect; he wasremarkably superstitious.
Instinctive presage of good luck to-day put him in rare spirits, as hemade his customary call.
"I feel as if I was going to land him to-day," muttered the jovialcaptain to himself.
And his face was actually beaming with smiles, as his hand rested onthe knocker.
"Oh, good, morning, Mrs. Wilmot," he said, heartily; "how are you thisbright morning, Mrs. Wilmot?"
"Better, thank you, Captain Robinson," returned the housekeeper, givinghim an odd glance.
"That's hearty. Why, you are looking more yourself."
"Better in health, because better in spirits," said the housekeeper,insidiously.
The captain pricked up his ears at this.
"Any better news by chance, Mrs. Wilmot?" said he.
"Ah, that there is indeed," said she.
"About the master?" asked he.
"That's it," said she.
"You don't mean to say that he's coming home again?"
"I don't mean to say that he's coming," said the housekeeper, withwondrous significance.
"Why, whatever are you driving at?" he said.
"I'm not a-driving at nothing, Captain Robinson--leastways, not that Iam aware of. All I know is, that Mr. Murray ain't likely to be cominghome, for he ain't in a position to come home, seeing as----"
She paused.
"What?"
"Guess what."
"Hang it all, I can't."
"You must."
She laughed outright, and clapped her hands in regular kitten-like joy.
"What on earth do you mean, Mrs. Wilmot? I hate such palavering andbeating about the bush. If he's coming home, say so; if he ain't cominghome, tell me where I can see him, or where he's hiding."
"Why, he can't be coming home when----"
Here she stopped short in the most aggravating manner in the world.
The jovial captain grew black and threatening.
He was just going to burst out into a noisy fit of abusive language,when she stopped him short with a remark which quite startled him.
"There, there, what an impatient man you are, surely, Captain Robinson.Go up stairs and see for yourself why he ain't coming home."
The captain could only infer one thing from her words.
Murray was back.
Yes, he was not coming home, because he had already come.
This explained the housekeeper's joyous spirits, which seemed to bubbleover in her.
"She's a nice old gal," said Robinson to himself, as he mounted thestairs, "and I'll stand her a trifle after I have applied my leech toher master again. Ha, ha, ha!"
The jovial captain laughed at the quaint conceit.
He rarely enjoyed the prospect of once more gloating over the miserableMurray writhing under the moral pressure.
"I'll make him bleed handsome for keeping away so long," thought thisjovial mariner. "I wonder how he'll enjoy the leech after such a longwhile?"
His hand rested upon the handle of the door.
What a startler it would be for Mr. Murray.
"I'll knock," thought the jovial Captain Robinson; "he'll think it'sMother Wilmot again. Such larks!"
He knocked.
"Come in."
How changed the voice sounded.
"He's caught cold," thought the practical joker.
He opened the door.
Closed it carefully behind him to guard against intrusion.
Then he turn and faced--Joe Deering!
* * * *
Jovial Captain Robinson stood aghast.
The sight of his old friend literally petrified him.
Deering stood facing the jovial scoundrel, his hands leaning on thetable.
Not a muscle of his face moved.
A cold, settled expression was in his eyes.
So fixed, so steady, that they might have been set in the head of adead man.
The jovial Robinson was tongue-tied for a time.
* * * *
"Joe!"
This monosyllable he faltered after a long while, and after a very bigeffort.
But Joe Deering said never a word in reply, nor did he move a muscle.
"Joe."
Deering stared at him with the same fixed, glassy eyes, until JovialCaptain Robinson had a hideous idea flash across him.
Was it really a living man there?
He fastened a fixed, fascinating look upon the figure of the friend hehad so villainously betrayed, and retreating a step, groped aboutbehind him, for the handle of the door.
At last he got hold of it, and turned it.
"Stop!"
Deering had spoken, and with a jerk the jovial Captain Robinson turnedround.
"Joe!" he gasped, again, "did you speak?"
Now Joe Deering saw by the traitor's pallid cheeks, and frightenedlook, what was passing in his mind.
So he was at no pains to destroy the illusion.
"I did. Your ears did not deceive you."
"I thought not," faltered Captain Robinson, plucking up in a faintdegree, however.
"You marvel to see the ocean give up its dead," began Joe Deering, in ahollow voice.
Jovial Captain Robinson sank against the door for support, while adelicate green tint spread itself over his face.
We have said that he was a superstitious man.
This huge lump of humanity--nay, rather of inhumanity--was worse than aschoolgirl in point of courage.
The very word ghost frightened him, if he saw it in print.
He was sure that Joe Deering was dead.
Certain was he that Joe Deering had been decoyed into that floatingcoffin, and sent to a watery grave by himself.
Here then was the betrayed man's ghost come to reproach him with hiscrime.
The strong man turned heart-sick, and was like to faint.
Joe Deering looked at the fear-stricken traitor in silence.
He enjoyed his terror keenly indeed.
No feeling of pity at the abject terror of the wretched man crossedhim.
For his thoughts went back to those fearful days and nights they passedon board the doomed "Albatross."
Jovial Captain Robinson had been pitiless before, and the sufferingsgone through in that terrible time had hardened Joe Deering's kindheart.
A genial, generous and soft-hearted fellow as a rule, he could notpardon this infamous wretch who had lured him into such a trap, evenwhile professing the most affectionate friendship for him.
No!
This was Joe Deering's chance--his long looked-for opportunity, and noweak emotion should spoil the revenge which he had waited for sopatiently.
* * * *
Jovial Captain Robinson essayed to speak.
In a faint, faltering voice, he managed to pronounce Joe Deering'sname.
"Well, murderer!" returned Joe Deering; "what is it you want?"
"I want you to shake hands with me, Joe," responded the other, almostinaudibly.
"Assassin!"
"I--I--I don't mean you any harm," gasped jovial Captain Robinson.
"Liar!" thundered Joe Deering; "you dare make that statement, hoveringas you do, between life and death!"
"No, no, no, no!" shrieked the jovial captain; "not that, Joe, notthat."
"Yes, I say; for you are not long for this world."
"You are not sent to tell me that, Joe," said Robinson, his voice dyingaway in spite of a
desperate effort to make it audible.
"I am."
"Ugh!"
And with a half groan, half grunt, he sank upon the ground prostrate.
Before his senses had fairly fled, Joe Deering strode over to him, anddelivered him a heavy kick behind.
This brought him round in a wonderful way.
He knew that it was a material foot that had given that kick, and theconviction was a marvellous relief to him.
He scrambled up.
As he got to his feet, Joe Deering fixed him by the throat, and shookhim.
"You plotted to accomplish my murder," he said, "but now my turn'scome, Robinson, and I mean to punish you."
Jovial Captain Robinson was a coward, an arrant cur, yet he infinitelypreferred having to tackle flesh and blood, to battling with a ghost.
He turned upon his assailant.
But Deering was not to be denied.
Before the jovial captain could do any thing to help himself, JoeDeering hammered his face into a jelly.
Half dazed, stunned, and blinded, Robinson fought it out, andstruggling fiercely, he shook himself free.
And then he fled like a beaten cur from the house.
Joe Deering did not attempt to follow him.
"There," he said, calmly enough, considering what had gone before,"that's done. Thank goodness it's off my mind. Mr. Murray must have mynext attention."
He little thought that the wretched shipowner had already paid thepenalty of his crimes.
* * * *
Jovial Captain Robinson was never the same man again.
Whether it was the physical or the mental punishment he had had, wecannot possibly determine, but certain it is that something broke himup from that day, and he lingered on a miserable life of two years ormore, and died in abject want.
Jack Harkaway's Boy Tinker Among The Turks Page 41