Foul Play

by Charles Reade

  CHAPTER XVIII.

  BUT this utter prostration of his confederate began to alarm Wylie, androuse him to exertion. Certainly, he was very sorry for what he had done,and would have undone it and forfeited his three thousand pounds in amoment, if he could. But, as he could not undo the crime, he was all themore determined to reap the reward. Why, that three thousand pounds, foraught he knew, was the price of his soul; and he was not the man to lethis soul go gratis.

  He finished the rest of the brandy, and went after his men, to keep themtrue to him by promises; but the next day he came to the office inFenchurch Street, and asked anxiously for Wardlaw. Wardlaw had notarrived. He waited, but the merchant never came; and Michael told himwith considerable anxiety that this was the first time his young masterhad missed coming this five years.

  In course of the day, several underwriters came in, with long faces, toverify 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 barelyescaped with his life. He was mate of the ship, gentlemen."

  Upon this, each visitor questioned Wylie, and Wylie returned the samesmooth answer to all inquiries. One heavy gale after another had so triedthe ship that her seams had opened, and let in more water than all theexertions of the crew and passengers could discharge; at last, they hadtaken to the boats; the long-boat had been picked up; the cutter hadnever been heard of since.

  They nearly all asked after the ship's log.

  "I have got it safe at home," said he.

  It was in his pocket all the time.

  Some asked him where the other survivors were. He told them five hadshipped on board the _Maria,_ and three were with him at Poplar, onedisabled by the hardships they had all endured.

  One or two complained angrily of Mr. Wardlaw's absence at such a time.

  "Well, good gentlemen," said Wylie, "I'll tell ye. Mr. Wardlaw'ssweetheart was aboard the ship. He is a'most broken-hearted. He valliedher more than all the gold, that you may take your oath on."

  This stroke, coming from a rough fellow in a pea-jacket, who looked assimple as he was cunning, silenced remonstrance, and went far to disarmsuspicion; and so pleased Michael Penfold that he said, "Mr. Wylie, youare interested in this business, would you mind going to Mr. Wardlaw'shouse and asking what we are to do next? I'll give you his address and aline begging him to make an effort and see you. Business is the heart'sbest ointment. Eh, dear Mr. Wylie, I have known grief, too; and I think Ishould have gone mad when they sent my poor son away, but for business,especially the summing up of long columns, etc."

  Wylie called at the house in Russell Square, and asked to see Mr.Wardlaw.

  The servant shook his head. "You can't see him; he is very ill."

  "Very ill?" said Wylie. "I'm sorry for that. Well, but I shan't make himany worse; and Mr. Penfold says I must see him. It is very particular, Itell you. He won't thank you for refusing me, when he comes to hear ofit."

  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 thedining-room, and shortly reappeared, holding the door open. Out came, notWardlaw junior, but Wardlaw senior.

  "My son is in no condition to receive you," said he, gravely; "but I amat your service. What is your business?"

  Wylie was taken off 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 smeltedcopper on board the _Shannon."_

  "Well?"

  "Ye see, sir," said Wylie, "Mr. Wardlaw was particular about them, and Ifeel responsible like, having shipped them aboard another vessel."

  "Have you not the captain's receipt?"

  "That I have, sir, at home. But you could hardly read it for salt water."

  "Well," said Wardlaw senior, "I will direct our agent at Liverpool tolook after them, and send them up at once to my cellars in FenchurchStreet. Forty chests of lead and copper, I think you said." And he took anote of this directly. Wylie was not a little discomfited at thisunexpected turn things had taken; but he held his tongue now, for fear ofmaking bad worse. Wardlaw senior went on to say that he should have toconduct the business of the firm for a time, in spite of his old age andfailing health.

  This announcement made Wylie perspire with anxiety, and his threethousand pounds seemed to melt away from him.

  "But never mind," said old Wardlaw; "I am very glad you came. In fact,you are the very man I wanted to see. My poor afflicted friend has askedafter you several times. Be good enough to follow me."

  He led the way into the dining-room, and there sat the sad father in allthe quiet dignity of calm, unfathomable sorrow.

  Another gentleman stood upon the rug with his back to the fire, waitingfor Mr. Wardlaw; this was the family physician, who had just come downfrom Arthur's bedroom, and had entered by another door through thedrawing-room.

  "Well, doctor," said Wardlaw, anxiously, "what is your report?"

  "Not so good as I could wish; but nothing to excite immediate alarm.Overtaxed brain, sir, weakened and unable to support this calamity.However, we have reduced the fever; the symptoms of delirium have beenchecked, and I think we shall escape brain fever if he is kept quiet. Icould not have said as much this morning."

  The doctor then took his leave, with a promise to call next morning; and,as soon as he was gone, Wardlaw turned to General Rolleston, and said,"Here _is_ Wylie, sir. Come forward, my man, and speak to the general. Hewants to know if you can point out to him on the chart the very spotwhere 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, andrarely has a chart been examined as this was, with the bleeding heart aswell as the straining eye.

  The rough sailor became an oracle; the others hung upon his words, andfollowed his brown finger on the chart with fearful interest.

  "Ye see, sir," said he, addressing the old merchant--for there wassomething on his mind that made him avoid speaking directly to GeneralRolleston--"when we came out of Sydney, the wind being south and bywest, Hudson took the northerly course instead of running through Cook'sStraits. The weather freshened from the same quarter, so that, with onething and another, by when we were a month out, she was five hundredmiles or so nor'ard of her true course. But that wasn't all; when theleak gained on us, Hudson ran the ship three hundred miles by myreckoning to the nor'east; and, I remember, the day before she foundered,he told me she was in latitude forty, and Easter Island bearing duenorth."

  "Here is the spot, then," said General Rolleston, and placed his fingeron the spot.

  "Ay, sir," said Wylie, addressing the merchant; "but she ran abouteighty-five miles after that, on a northerly course--no--wind on herstarboard quarter--and, being deep in the water, she'd make lee way--sayeighty-two miles, nor'east by east." The general took eighty-two milesoff the scale, with a pair of dividers, and set out that distance on thechart. He held the instrument fixed on the point thus obtained.

  Wylie eyed the point, and, after a moment's consideration, nodded hishead.

  "There, or thereabouts," he said, in a low voice, and looking at themerchant.

  A pause ensued, and the two old men examined the speck pricked on themap, as if it were the waters covering the _Proserpine._

  "Now, sir," said Rolleston, "trace the course of the boats;" and hehanded Wylie a pencil.

  The sailor slowly averted his head, but stretched out his hand and tookit, and traced two lines, the one short and straight, running nearlynortheast. "That's the way the cutter headed when we lost her in thenight."

  The other line ran parallel to the first for half an inch, then, turning,bent backward and ran due south.

  "This was our course," said Wylie.

  General Rolleston looked up, and said, "Why did you d
esert the cutter?"

  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 notreach either Juan Fernandez or Valparaiso with our stock of provisions,and insisted on standing for the sea-track of Australian liners betweenthe Horn and Sydney."

  This explanation was received in dead silence. Wylie fidgeted, and hiseye wandered round the room.

  General Rolleston applied his compasses to the chart. "I find that the_Proserpine_ was not one thousand miles from Easter Island. Why did younot make for that land?"

  "We had no charts, sir," said Wylie to the merchant, "and I'm nonavigator."

  "I see no land laid down hereaway, northeast of the spot where the shipwent down."

  "No," replied Wylie, "that's what the men said when they made me 'boutship."

  "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 we went through. Why,sir" (to Wardlaw), "I can hardly believe that I am alive, and sit heretalking to you about this cursed business. And nobody offers me a drop ofanything."

  Wardlaw poured him out a tumbler of wine. His brown hand trembled alittle, and he gulped the wine down like water.

  General Rolleston gave Mr. Wardlaw a look, and Wylie was dismissed. Heslouched down the street all in a cold perspiration; but still clingingto his three thousand pounds, though small was now his hope of everseeing it.

  When he was gone General Rolleston paced that large and gloomy room insilence. Wardlaw eyed him with the greatest interest, but avoidedspeaking to him. At last he stopped short, and stood erect, as veteranshalt, and pointed down at the chart.

  "I'll start at once for that spot," said he. "I'll go in the next shipbound to Valparaiso: there I'll charter a small vessel, and ransack thosewaters for some trace of my poor lost girl."

  "Can you think of no better way than that?" said old Wardlaw, gently, andwith a slight tone of reproach.

  "No--not at this moment. Oh, yes, by the by, the _Greyhound_ and_Dreadnaught_ are going out to survey the islands of the Pacific. I haveinterest enough to get a berth in the _Greyhound."_

  "What! go in a government ship! under the orders of a man, under theorders of another man, under the orders of a board. Why, if you heard ourpoor girl was alive upon a rock, the _Dreadnaught_ would be sure to runup a bunch of red-tape to the fore that moment to recall the _Greyhound,_and the _Greyhound_ would go back. No," said he, rising suddenly, andconfronting the general, and with the color mounting for once in hissallow face, "you sail in no bottom but one freighted by Wardlaw & Son,and the captain shall be under no orders but yours. We have bought thesteam-sloop _Springbok_, seven hundred tons. I'll victual her for ayear, man her well, and you shall go out in her in less than a week. Igive you my hand on that."

  They grasped hands.

  But this sudden warmth and tenderness, coming from a man habitually cold,overpowered the stout general. "What, sir," he faltered; "your own sonlies in danger, yet your heart goes so with me--such goodness--it is toomuch 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 ofall. Don't, general; don'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 ofone age; and this is a heavy blow for us. And we are friends no more; ithas made us brothers. She was to be my child as well as yours; well, nowshe _is_ my child, and our hearts they bleed together." At this, thetruth must be told, the two stout old men embraced one another like twowomen, and cried together a little.

  But that was soon over with such men as these. They sat together andplunged into the details of the expedition, and they talked themselvesinto hope.

  In a week the _Springbok_ steamed down the Channel on an errand inspiredby love, not reason; to cross one mighty ocean, and grope for a lostdaughter in another.