CORNELL 
 
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 BOUGHT WITH THE" INCOME 
 OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT 
 FUND GIVEN IN 1 89 1 BY 
 
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Cornell University Library 
 PR 5214.F7 1895 
 
 Foul play. 
 
 3 1924 013 538 644 * 
 
The original of tiiis book is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013538644 
 
THEY HAD.UjND^D IN PARADISE 
 
Xibrarig jebition 
 
 THE WORKS OF 
 
 CHARLES READE, D. C. L 
 
 FOUL PLAY 
 
 (§Jt 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 fiDetcopolitan JPuflfeDins Compsns 
 
 189S 
 
LIMITED TO ONE THOUSAND SETS, 
 
 of which this is 
 Number 
 
FQUL PLAT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 There are places whieli appear at first sight inaccessi- 
 ble to romance: and such a place was Mr. Wardlaw's 
 dining room in Eussell Square. It was very large, had 
 sickly green walls, picked out with aldermen, full length; 
 heavy maroon curtains ; mahogany chairs ; a turkey car- 
 pet an inch thick: and was lighted with wax candles 
 only. 
 
 In the centre, bristling and gleaming with silver and 
 glass, was a round table, at which fourteen could have 
 dined comfortably ; and at opposite sides of this table 
 sat two gentlemen, who looked as neat, grave, precise, 
 and unromantic, as the place : Merchant Wardlaw, and 
 his son. 
 
 Wardlaw senior was an elderly man, tall, thin, iron- 
 gray, with a round head, a short thick neck, a good 
 brown eye, a square jowl that betokened resolution, and 
 a complexion so sallow as to be almost cadaverous. Hard 
 as iron : but a certain stiff dignity and respectability sat 
 upon him, and became him. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw resembled his father in figure, but 
 his mother in face. He had, and has, hay-eclored hair, 
 a forehead singularly white and delicate, pale blue eyes, 
 largish ears, finely chiselled features, the under lip much 
 
4 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 shorter than the upper; his chin oval and pretty, but 
 somewhat receding ; his complexion beautiful. In short, 
 what nineteen people out of twenty would call a hand- 
 some young man, and think they had described him. 
 
 Both the Wardlaws were in full dress, according to 
 the invariable custom of the house ; and sat in a dead 
 silence, that seemed natural to the great, sober room. 
 
 This, however, was not for want of a topic; on the 
 contrary, they had a matter of great importance to dis- 
 cuss, and in fact this was why they dined tete-a-tete : but 
 their tongues were tied for the present ; in the first place, 
 there stood in the middle of the table an ^pergne, the size 
 of a Putney laurel tree ; neither Wardlaw could well see 
 the other, without craning out his neck like a rifleman 
 from behind his tree : and then there were three live 
 suppressors of confidential intercourse, two gorgeous 
 footmen, and a sombre, sublime, and, in one word, 
 episcopal butler ; all three went about as softly as cats 
 after a robin, and conjured one plate away, and smoothly 
 insinuated another, and seemed models of grave discre- 
 tion ; but were known to be all ears, and bound by a 
 secret oath to carry down each crumb of dialogue to 
 the servants' hall, for curious dissection, and boisterous 
 ridicule. 
 
 At last, however, those three smug hypocrites retired, 
 and, by good luck, transferred their suffocating dpergne 
 to the sideboard ; so then father and son looked at one 
 another with that conscious air which naturally precedes 
 a topic of interest ; and Wardlaw senior invited his son 
 to try a certain decanter of rare old port, by way of 
 preliminary. 
 
 While the young man fills his glass, hurl we in his 
 antecedents. 
 
 At school till fifteen, and then clerk in his father's 
 office till twenty-two, and showed an aptitude so 
 
FOUL PLAT. 5 
 
 remarkable, that John Wardlaw, who was getting tired, 
 determined, sooner or later, to put the reins of govern- 
 ment into his hands. But he conceived a desire that 
 the future head of his office should be a university man. 
 So he announced his resolution, and to Oxford went 
 young Wardlaw, though he had not looked at Greek or 
 Latin for seven years. He was, however, furnished with 
 a private tutor, under whom he recovered lost ground 
 rapidly. The Eeverend Eobert Penfold was a first- 
 class man, and had the gift of teaching. The house 
 of Wardlaw had peculiar claims on him, for he was the 
 son of old Michael Penfold, Wardlaw's cashier; he 
 learned from young Wardlaw the stake he was play- 
 ing for, and, instead of merely giving him one hour's 
 lecture per day, as he did to his other pupils, he used to 
 come to his rooms at all hours, and force him to read, by 
 reading with him. He also stood his friend in a serious 
 emergency. Young Wardlaw, you must know, was 
 blessed or cursed, with Mimicry; his powers in that 
 way really seemed to have no limit, for he could imitate 
 any sound you liked with his voice, and any form with 
 his pen or pencil. Now, we promise you, he was one 
 man under his father's eye, and another down at Oxford; 
 so, one night, this gentleman, being warm with wine, 
 opens his window, and, seeing a group of undergraduates 
 chattering and smoking in the quadrangle, imitates the 
 peculiar grating tones of Mr. Champion, vice-president 
 of the college, and gives them various reasons why they 
 ought to disperse to their rooms and study. "But, 
 perhaps," says he, in conclusion, "you are too blind 
 drunk to read Bosh in crooked letters by candle-light ? 
 
 In that ease " And he then gave them some very 
 
 naughty advice how to pass the evening, stiU in the 
 exact tones of Mr. Champion, who was a very, very 
 strict moralist ; and this unexpected sally of wit caused 
 
6 POTJL PLAY, 
 
 shrieks of laughter, and mightily tickled all the hearers, 
 except Champion ipse, who was listening, and disapprov- 
 ing, at another window. He complained to the president. 
 Then the ingenious Wardlaw, not having come down to 
 us in a direct line from Bayard, committed a great 
 mistake — he denied it. 
 
 It was brought home to him, and the president, who 
 had laughed in his sleeve at the practical joke, looked 
 very grave at the falsehood ; Eustication was talked of, 
 and even Expulsion. Then Wardlaw came sorrowfully 
 to Penfold, and said to him, " I must have been awfully 
 cut, for I don't remember all that ; I had been wining 
 at Christchurch. I do remember slanging the fellows, 
 but how can I tell what I said ? I say, old fellow, it 
 will be a bad job for me if they expel me, or even 
 rusticate me ; my father will never forgive me ; I shall 
 be his clerk, but never his partner ; and then he will find 
 out what a lot I owe down here. I'm done for ! I'm 
 done for ! " 
 
 Penfold uttered not a word, but grasped his hand, and 
 went off to the president, and said his pupil had wined 
 at Christchurch, and could not be expected to remember 
 minutely. Mimicry was, unfortunately, a habit with 
 him. He then pleaded for the milder construction, with 
 such zeal and eloquence, that the high-minded scholar 
 he was addressing admitted that construction was possible, 
 and therefore must be received. So the affair ended in 
 a written apology to Mr. Champion, which had all the 
 smoothness and neatness of a merchant's letter. Arthur 
 Wardlaw was already a master in that style. 
 
 Six months after this, and one fortnight before the 
 actual commencement of our tale, Arthur Wardlaw, well 
 crammed by Penfold, went up for his final examination, 
 throbbing with anxiety. He passed ; and was so grate- 
 ful to his tutor that, when the advowson of a small living 
 
VOVh PLAY. 7 
 
 near Oxford came into the market, he asked Wardlaw 
 senior to lend Robert Penfield a sum of money, much 
 more than was needed; and Wardlaw senior declined 
 without a moment's hesitation. 
 
 This slight sketch will ^rve as a key to the dialogue 
 it has postponed, and to subsequent incidents. 
 
 " Well, Arthur, and so you have really taken your 
 degree ? " 
 
 "No, sir; but I have passed my examination: the 
 degree follows as a matter of course — that is a mere 
 question of fees." 
 
 " Oh, then now I have something to say to you. Try 
 one more glass of the '47 port. Stop ; you'll excuse 
 me ; I am a man of business ; I don't doubt your word ; 
 Heaven forbid ! but, do you happen to have any docu- 
 ment you can produce, in further confirmation of what 
 you state; namely, that you have passed your final 
 examination at the University?" 
 
 " Certainly, sir ; " replied young Wardlaw. " My Tes- 
 tamur." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 The young gentleman put his hand in his pocket, 
 and produced his Testamur, or " We bear witness ; " a 
 short printed document in Latin, which may be thus 
 translated : — 
 
 We bear witness that Arthur Wardlaw, of St. Luke's 
 College, has answered our questions in humane letters. 
 
 George Richabdson, 
 Arthur Smtthe, 
 Edward Merfvale, 
 
 Examiners. 
 
 Wardlaw senior took it, laid it beside him on the 
 table, inspeeted it with his double eye-glass, and not 
 knowing a word of Latin, was mightily impressed, and 
 
8 FOTJL PLAT. 
 
 his respect for his son rose forty or fprty-five per 
 cent. 
 
 " Very well, sir ; " said he. " Now listen to me. Per- 
 haps it was an old man's fancy ; but I have often seen 
 in the world what a stamp these universities put upon a 
 man. To send you back from commerce to Latin and 
 Greek, at two-and-twenty, was trying you rather hard ; 
 it was trying you doubly; your obedience, and your 
 ability into the bargain. Well, sir, you have stood the 
 trial, and I am proud of you. And so now it is my 
 turn : from this day and from this hour, look on your- 
 self as my partner in the old established house of 
 Wardlaw. My balance-sheet shall be prepared immedi- 
 ately, and the partnership deed drawn. You will enter 
 on a flourishing concern, sir ; and you will virtually con- 
 duct it, in written communication with me ; for I have 
 had five-and-forty years of it: and then my liver, you 
 know ! Watson advises me strongly to leave my desk, 
 and try country air, and rest from business and its 
 cares." 
 
 He paused a moment ; and the young man drew a long 
 breath, like one who was in the act of being relieved of 
 some terrible weight. 
 
 As for the old gentleman, he was not observing his 
 son just then, but thinking of his own career : a certain 
 expression of pain and regret came over his features; 
 but he shook it off with manly dignity. " Come, come," 
 said he, "this is the law of Kature, and must be sub- 
 mitted to with a good grace. Wardlaw junior, fill your 
 glass." At the same time he stood up and said stoutly, 
 " The setting sun drinks to the rising sun ; " but could 
 not maintain that artificial style, and ended with " God 
 bless you, my boy, and may you stick to business; 
 avoid speculation, as I have done; and so hand the 
 concern down healthy to your son, as my father there 
 
FOTJIi PLAY. 9 
 
 (pointing to a picture) handed it down to me, and I to 
 yon." 
 
 His voice ■wavered sligMly in nttering this benedic- 
 tion ; but only for a moment : he then sat quietly down, 
 and sipped his wine composedly. 
 
 Not so the other : the color came and went violently 
 all the time his father was speaking, and, when he 
 ceased, he sank into his chair with another sigh deeper 
 than the last, and two half-hysterical tears came to his 
 pale eyes. 
 
 But presently, feeling he was expected to say some- 
 thing, he struggled against all this mysterious emotion, 
 and faltered out that he should not fear the responsi- 
 bility, if he might have constant recourse to his father 
 for advice. 
 
 "Why, of course," was the reply.. "My country 
 hotise is but a mile from the station : you can telegraph 
 for me in any case of importance." 
 
 "When would you wish me to commence my new 
 duties ? " 
 
 "Let me see; it will take six weeks to prepare a 
 balance-sheet, such as I could be content to submit to an 
 incoming partner. Say two months." 
 
 Young Wardlaw's countenance fell. 
 
 "Meantime you shall travel on the Continent, and 
 enjoy yourself." 
 
 " Thank you," said young Wardlaw, mechanically, and 
 fell into a brown study. 
 
 The room now returned to what seemed its natural 
 state. And its silence continued until it was broken 
 from without. 
 
 A sharp knocking was heard at the street-door, and 
 resounded across the marble hall. 
 
 The Wardlaws looked at one another in some little 
 surprise. 
 
10 FOTJL PLAY. 
 
 " I have invited nobody," said the elder. 
 
 Some time elapsed, and then a footman made his 
 appearance, and brought in a card. 
 
 " Mr. Christopher Adams." 
 
 Now that Mr. Christopher Adams should call on John 
 Wardlaw, in his private room, at nine o'clock in the 
 evening, seemed to that merchant irregular, presump- 
 tuous, and monstrous. " Tell him he -will find me at my 
 place of business to-morrow, as usual," said he, knitting 
 his brows. 
 
 The footman went off with this message; and, soon 
 after, raised voices were heard in the hall, and the 
 episcopal butler entered the room with an injured 
 countenance. 
 
 "He says he must see you; he is in great anx- 
 iety." 
 
 " Yes, I am in great anxiety," said a quavering voice 
 at his elbow; and Mr. Adams actually pushed by the 
 butler, and stood, hat in hand, in those sacred precincts. 
 " Pray excuse me, sir," said he, " but it is very serious ; 
 I can't be easy in my mind till I have put you to a 
 question." 
 
 "This is very extraordinary conduct, sir," said Mr. 
 Wardlaw. " Do you think I do business here, and at all 
 hours ? " 
 
 "Oh no, sir; it is my own business. I am come to 
 ask you a very serious question. I couldn't wait till 
 morning with such a doubt on my mind." 
 
 " Well, sir, I repeat this is irregular and extraordinary ; 
 but as you are here, pray what is the matter ? " He 
 then dismissed the lingering butler with a look. Mr. 
 Adams oast uneasy glances on young Wardlaw. 
 
 "Oh," said the elder, "you can speak before him. 
 This is my partner ; that is to say, he will be as soon 
 as the balance-sheet can be prepared, and the deed 
 
FOUL PLAT. 11 
 
 drawn. Wardlaw .junior, this is Mr. Adams, a very 
 respectable bill discounter." 
 
 The two men bowed to eacb other, and Arthur Wardlaw 
 sat down motionless. 
 
 " Sir, did you draw a note of hand to-day ? " inquired 
 Adams of the elder merchant. 
 
 " I dare say I did. Did you discount one signed by 
 me?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, we did." 
 
 " Well, sir, you have only to present it at maturity. 
 Wardlaw and Son will provide for it, I dare say." This 
 with the lofty nonchalance of a rich man, who had 
 never broken an engagement in his life. 
 
 "Ah, that I know they will if it is all right; but 
 suppose it is not?" 
 
 "What d'ye mean?" asked Wardlaw, with some 
 astonishment. 
 
 "Oh, nothing, sir. It bears your signature, that is 
 good for twenty times the amount; and it is indorsed 
 by your cashier. Only what makes me a little imeasy, 
 your bills used to be always on your own forms, and so 
 I told my partner: he discounted it. Gentlemen, I 
 wish you would just look at it." 
 
 " Of course we will look at it. Show it Arthur first ; 
 his eyes are younger than mine." 
 
 Mr. Adams took out a large bill-book, extracted the 
 note of hand, and passed it across the table to Wardlaw 
 junior. He took it up with a sort of shiver, and bent 
 his head very low over it; then handed it back in 
 silence. 
 
 Adams took it to Wardlaw senior, and laid it before 
 him by the side of Arthur's Testamur. 
 
 The merchant inspected it with his glasses. 
 
 " The writing is mine, apparently." 
 
 "I am very glad of it," said the bill-broker eagerly. 
 
12 FOtJL PLAY. 
 
 "Stop a bit," said Mr. Wardlaw. "Wliy, -what is 
 this ? Tor two thousand pounds ! and, as you say, not 
 my form. I have signed no note for two thousand 
 pounds this week. Dated yesterday. You have not 
 cashed it, I hope?" 
 
 " I am sorry to say my partner has." 
 
 " Well, sir, not to keep you in suspense, the thing is 
 not worth the stamp it is written on." 
 
 " Mr. Wardlaw ! — Sir ! — Good heavens ! Then it is 
 as I feared. It is a forgery." 
 
 "I should be puzzled to find any other name for it. 
 You need not look so pale, Arthur. We can't help some 
 clever scoundrel imitating our hands ; and as for you, 
 Adams, you ought to have been more cautious." 
 
 "But, sir, your cashier's name is Penfold," faltered 
 the holder, clinging to a straw. "May he not have 
 drawn — is the indorsement forged as well?" 
 
 Mr. Wardlaw examined the back of the bill, and 
 looked puzzled. " No," said he. " My cashier's name is 
 Michael Penfold, but this is indorsed ' Robert Penfold.' 
 Do you hear, Arthur ? Why, what is the matter with 
 you ? You look like a ghost. I say there is your tutor's 
 name at the back of this forged note. This is very 
 strange. Just look, and tell me who wrote these two 
 words ' Eobert Penfold.' " 
 
 Young Wardlaw took the document, and tried to 
 examine it calmly, but it shook visibly in his hand, and 
 a cold moisture gathered on his brow. His pale eyes 
 roved to and fro in a very remarkable way ; and he was 
 so long before he said anything, that both the other 
 pfersons present began to eye him with wonder. 
 
 At last he faltered out, " This ' Eobert Penfold ' seems 
 to me very like his own handwriting. But then the 
 rest of the writing is equally like yours, sir. I am sure 
 Robert Penfold never did anything wrong. Mr. Adams, 
 
rOTTL PI,AT. 13 
 
 pray oblige me. Let this go no fuither till I have seen 
 him, and asked him whether he indorsed it." 
 
 "Now don't you be in a hurry," said the elder Wardlaw. 
 "The first question is, who received the money ?" 
 
 Mr. Adams replied that it was a respectable looking 
 man, a young clergyman. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Wardlaw, with a world of meaning. 
 
 "Father!" said young Wardlaw, imploringly, "for my 
 sake, say no more to-night. Eobert Penfold is incapable 
 of a dishonest act." 
 
 " It becomes your years to think so, young man. But 
 I have lived long enough to see what crimes respectable 
 men are betrayed into in the hour of temptation. And, 
 now I think of it, this Eobert Penfold is in want of 
 money. Did he not ask me for a loan of two thousand 
 pounds ? Was not that the very sum ? Can't you 
 answer me ? Why, the application came through you." 
 
 Eeceiving no reply from his son, but a sort of agonized 
 stare, he took out his pencil and wrote down Eobert 
 Penf old's address. This he handed the bill-broker, and 
 gave him some advice in a whisper, which Mr. Christopher 
 Adams received with a profusion of thanks, and bustled 
 away, leaving Wardlaw senior excited and indignant, 
 Wardlaw junior ghastly pale, and almost stupefied. 
 
 Scarcely a word was spoken for some minutes, and 
 then the younger man broke out suddenly. "Eobert 
 Penfold is the best friend I ever had; I should have 
 been expelled but for him, and I should never have 
 earned that Testamur but for him." 
 
 The old merchant interrupted him. " You exaggerate; 
 but to tell you the truth, I am sorry now I did not lend 
 him the money you asked for. For, mark my words, in 
 a moment of temptation, that miserable young man has 
 forged my name, and will be convicted of the felony, and 
 punished accordingly." 
 
14 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 "No, no ; oil, God forbid ! " slirieked young Wardlaw. 
 "I coiddn't bear it. If lie did, he must have intended 
 to replace it. I must see him ; I will see him directly." 
 He got up all in a hurry, and was going to Penfold to 
 ■warn him, and get him out of the way till the money 
 should be replaced. But his father started up at the 
 same moment and forbade him, in accents that he had 
 never yet been able to resist. 
 
 " Sit down, sir, this instant," said the old man, with 
 terrible sternness. " Sit down, I say, or you will never 
 be a partner of mine. Justice must take its course. 
 What business and what right have we to protect a 
 felon? I would not take your part if you were one. 
 Indeed it is too late now, for the detectives will be with 
 him before you could reach.-, him. I gave Adams his 
 address." 
 
 At this last piece of information Wardlaw junior leaned 
 his head on the table, and groaned aloud, and a cold per- 
 spiration gathered in beads upon his white forehead. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 15 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 That same evening sat over their tea, in Norfolk 
 Street, Strand, another couple, who were also father and 
 son ; but, in this pair, the Wardlaws were reversed. 
 Michael Penfold was a reverend, gentle creature, with 
 white hair, blue eyes, and great timidity; why, if a 
 stranger put to him a question, he used to look all round 
 the room before he ventm'ed to answer. 
 
 Eobert, his son, was a young man, with a large brown 
 eye, a mellow voice, square shoulders, and a prompt and 
 vigorous manner. Crif^'eter. Scholar. Parson. 
 
 They were talking hopefully together over a living 
 Eobert was going to buy ; it was near Oxford, he said, 
 and would not prevent his continuing to take pupils. 
 
 " But, father," said he, " it will be a place to take my 
 wife to if I ever have one ; and, meantime, I hope you 
 will run down now and then, Saturday to Monday." 
 
 "That I will, Eobert. Ah! how proud she would have 
 been to hear you preach ; it was always her dream, poor 
 thing." 
 
 "Let us think she can hear me," said Eobert. "And 
 I have got you still ; the proceeds of this living will help 
 me to lodge you more comfortably." 
 
 " You are very good, Eobert ; I would rather see you 
 spend it upon yourself; but, dear me, what a manager 
 you must be to dress so beautifully as you do, and send 
 your old father presents as you do, and yet put by four- 
 teen hundred pounds to buy this living." 
 
 "You are mistaken, sir, I have only saved four hundred; 
 the rest — but that is a secret for the present." 
 
16 FOTJIi PLAT. 
 
 " Oh, I am not inquisitive ; I never was." 
 
 They then chatted about things of no importance 
 whatever, and the old gentleman was just lighting his 
 candle to go to bed, when a visitor was ushered into the 
 room. 
 
 The Penfolds looked a little surprised, but not much. 
 They had no street door all to themselves ; no liveried 
 dragons to interpose between them and unseasonable or 
 unwelcome visitors. 
 
 The man was well dressed, with one exception: he 
 wore a gold chain. He had a hooked nose, and a black 
 piercing eye. He stood at the door and observed every 
 person and thing in the room minutely, before he spoke 
 a word. 
 
 Then he said quietly, "Mr. Michael Penfold, I believe." 
 
 " At your service, sir." 
 
 "And Mr. Eobert Penfold." 
 
 " I am Eobert Penfold. What is your business ? " 
 
 "Pray is the 'Robert Penfold' at the back of this note 
 your writing ? " 
 
 "Certainly it is ; they would not cash it without that." 
 
 " Oh, you got the money, then ? " 
 
 "Of course I did." 
 
 "You have not parted with it, have you ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "All the better." He then turned to Michael and 
 looked at him earnestly a moment. " The fact is, sir," 
 said he, "there is a little irregularity about this bill, 
 which must be explained, or your son might be called on 
 to refund the cash." 
 
 " Irregularity about — a bill ? " cried Michael Penfold, 
 in dismay. " Who is the drawer ? Let me see it. Oh, 
 dear me, something wrong about a bill indorsed by you, 
 Robert ? " and the old man began to shake piteously. 
 
 "Why, father," said Robert, "what are you afraid of? 
 
FOTJli FJtAJ. 17 
 
 If the bill is irregular, I can but return the money. It 
 is in the house." 
 
 " The best way will be for Mr. Eobert Penfold to go 
 at once with me to the bill-broker ; he lives but a few 
 doors off. And you, sir, must stay here, and be respon- 
 sible for the funds, till we return." 
 
 Eobert Penfold took his hat directly, and went off with 
 this mysterious visitor. 
 
 They had not gone many steps, when Eobert's com- 
 panion stopped, and, getting in front of him, said, " We 
 can settle this matter here." At the same time a police- 
 man crossed the way, and joined them; and another 
 man, who was in fact a policeman in plain clothes, 
 emerged from a doorway and stood at Eobert Penfold's 
 back. 
 
 The detective, having thus surrounded him, threw off 
 disguise. "My man," said he, "I ought to have done 
 this job in your house. But I looked at the worthy 
 old gentleman, and his gray hairs. I thought I'd spare 
 him all I could. I have a warrant to arrest you for 
 forgery." 
 
 " Forgery ! arrest me for forgery ! " said Eobert Penfold, 
 with some amazement, but little emotion ; for he hardly 
 seemed to take it in, in all its horrible significance. 
 
 The next moment, however, he turned pale, and almost 
 staggered under the blow. 
 
 "We had better go to Mr. Wardlaw," said he. "I 
 entreat you to go to him with me." 
 
 "Can't be done," said the detective. "Wardlaw has 
 nothing to do with it. The biU is stopped. You are 
 arrested by the gent that cashed it.^ Here is the war- 
 rant: will you go quietly with us, or must I put the 
 darbies on ? " 
 
 Eobert was violently agitated. " There is no need to 
 arrest me," he cried : " I shall not run from my accuser. 
 2 
 
18 rOUL PLAT. 
 
 Hands off, I say. I'm a clergyman of the Church, of 
 England, and you shall not lay hands on me." 
 
 But one of the policemen did lay hands on him. Then 
 the Eev. Robert Penfold shook him furiously off, and 
 with one active bound^ sprang into the middle of the 
 road. 
 
 The officers went at him incautiously, and the head 
 detective, as he rushed forward, received a heavy blow 
 on the neck and jaw, that sounded along the street, and 
 sent him rolling in the mud; this was followed by a 
 quick succession of staggering facers, administered right 
 and left on the eyes and noses of the subordinates. 
 These, however, though bruised and bleeding, succeeded 
 at last in grappling their man, and all came to the ground 
 together, and there struggled furiously ; every window in 
 the street was open by this time, and at one the white 
 hair and reverend face of Michael Penfold looked out on 
 this desperate and unseemly struggle, with hands that 
 beat the air in helpless agony, and inarticulate cries of 
 terror. 
 
 T^he detective got up and sat upon Robert Penfold's 
 chest ; and at last the three forced the handcuffs upon 
 him, and took him in a cab to the station-house. 
 
 Next day, before the magistrate, Wardlaw senior 
 proved the note was a forgery, and Mr. Adams's part- 
 ner swore to the prisoner as the person who had pre- 
 sented and indorsed the note. The officers attended, 
 two with black eyes apiece, and one with his jaw bound 
 up, and two sound teeth in his pocket, which had been 
 driven from their sockets by the prisoner in his desperate 
 attempt to escape. Their evidence hurt the prisoner, 
 and the magistrate refused bail. 
 
 The Rev. Robert Penfold was committed to prison, to 
 be tried at the Central Criminal Court on a charge of 
 felony. 
 
POTJL PLAY. 19 
 
 Waxdlaw senior returned home, and told Wardlaw 
 junior, who said not a word. He soon received a letter 
 from Robert Penfold, which agitated him greatly, and 
 he promised to go to the prison and see him. 
 
 But he never went. 
 
 He was very miserable, a prey to an inward struggle. 
 He dared not offend his father on the eve of being made 
 partner. Yet his heart bled for Robert Penfold. 
 
 He did what might perhaps have been expected from 
 that pale eye and receding chin — he temporized. He 
 said to himself, "Before that horrible trial comes on, I 
 shall be the hoiase of Wardlaw, and able to draw a 
 check for thousands. I'll buy off Adams at any price, 
 and hush up the whole matter." 
 
 So he hoped, and hoped. But the accountant was 
 slow, the public prosecutor unusually quick, and, to 
 young Wardlaw's agony, the partnership deed was not 
 ready, when an imploring letter was put into his hands, 
 urging him, by all that men hold sacred, to attend at the 
 court as the prisoner's witness. 
 
 This letter almost drove young Wardlaw mad. He 
 went to Adams, and entreated him not to carry the mat- 
 ter into court. But Adams was inexorable. He had got 
 his money, but would be revenged for the fright. 
 
 Baffled here, joxmg Wardlaw went down to Oxford 
 and shut himseK up in his own room, a prey to fear and 
 remorse. He sported his oak, and never went out. All 
 his exercise was that of a wild beast in its den, walking 
 restlessly up and down. 
 
 But all his caution did not prevent the prisoner's solici- 
 tor from getting to him. One morning, at seven o'clock, 
 a clerk slipped in at the heels of his scout, and coming 
 to young Wardlaw's bedside, awoke him out of an uneasy 
 slumber by serving him with a subpoena to appear as 
 Robert Penfold's witness. 
 
20 POUIi PLAY. 
 
 This last stroke finished him. His bodily health gave 
 way under his mental distress. Gastric fever set in, and 
 he was lying tossing and raving in delirium, while Robert 
 Penfold was being tried at the Central Criminal Court. 
 
 The trial occupied six hours, and could easily be made 
 rather interesting. But, for various reasons, with which 
 it would not be good taste to trouble the reader, we 
 decide to skim it. 
 
 The indictment contaihed two counts ; one for forging 
 the note of hand, the other for uttering it knowing it to 
 be forged. 
 
 On the first count, the Crown was weak, and had to 
 encounter the evidence of Undercliff, the distinguished 
 expert, who swore that the hand which wrote " Robert 
 Penfold" was not, in his opinion, the hand that had 
 written the body of the instrument. He gave many 
 minute reasons, in support of this ; and nothing of any 
 weight was advanced contra. The judge directed the 
 jury to acquit the prisoner on that count. 
 
 But, on the charge of uttering, the evidence was clear, 
 and, on.the question of knowledge, it was, perhaps, a dis- 
 advantage to the prisoner that he was tried in England, 
 and could not be heard in person, as he could have been 
 in a foreign court ; above all, his resistance to the oificers 
 eked out the presumption that he knew the note had 
 been forged by some person or other, who was probably 
 his accomplice. 
 
 The absence of his witness, Wardlaw junior, was se- 
 verely commented on by his counsel ; indeed, he appealed 
 to the judge to commit the said Wardlaw for contempt 
 of court. But Wardlaw senior was recalled, and swore 
 that he had left his son in a burning fever, not expected 
 to live ; and declared, with genuine emotion, that nothing 
 but a high sense of public duty had brought him hither 
 from his dying son's bedside. He also told the court 
 
FOXTL PLAT. 21 
 
 that Arthur's inability to clear his friend had really 
 been the first cause of his illness, from which he was 
 not expected to recover. 
 
 The jury consulted together a long time ; and, at last, 
 brought ia a verdict of "Guilty;" but recommended 
 him to mercy, on grounds which might fairly have been 
 alleged in favor of his innocence ; but, if guilty, rather 
 aggravated his crime. 
 
 Then an officer of the court inquired, in a sort of chant 
 or recitative, whether the prisoner had anything to say 
 why judgment should not be given in accordance with 
 the verdict. 
 
 It is easy to divest words of their meaning by false 
 intonation ; and prisoners in general receive this bit of 
 sing-song in dead silence. For why ? the chant conveys 
 no idea to their ears, and they would as soon think of 
 replying to the notes of a cuckoo. 
 
 But the Rev. Eobert Penf old was in a keen agony that 
 sharpened all his senses; he caught the sense of the 
 words in spite of the speaker, and clung wildly to the 
 straw that monotonous machine held out. " My Lord ! 
 my Lord ! " he cried, " I'll tell you the real reason why 
 ' young Wardlaw is not here." 
 
 The judge put up his hand with a gesture that enforced 
 silence : — " Prisoner," said he, " I cannot go back to 
 facts; the jury have dealt with them. Judgment can 
 be arrested only on grounds of law. On these you can 
 be heard. But, if you have none to offer, you must be 
 silent, and submit to your sentence." He then, after a 
 slight pause, proceeded to poiut out the heinous char- 
 acter of the offence, but admitted there was one mitigat- 
 ing circumstance : and in conclusion, he condemned the 
 culprit to five years' penal servitude. 
 
 At this the poor wretch uttered a cry of anguish that 
 was fearful, and clutched the dock convulsively. 
 
22 FOTTIi PLAY. 
 
 Now a prisoner rarely speaks to a judge without revolt- 
 ing him by bad law, or bad logic, or hot words. But this 
 wild cry was innocent of all these, and went straight 
 from the heart in the dock to the heart on the judgment 
 seat. And so his lordship's voice trembled for a moment, 
 and then became firm again, but solemn and humane. 
 "But," said he, "my experience tells me this is your 
 first crime, and may possibly be your last. I shall there- 
 fore use my influence that you may not be associated 
 with more hardened criminals, but may be sent out of 
 this country to another, where you may begin life afresh, 
 and, in the course of years, efface this dreadful stain. 
 Give me hopes of you; begin your repentance, where 
 now you stand, by blaming yourself, and no other man. 
 No man constrained you to utter a forged note, and to 
 receive the money; it was found in your possession. 
 For such an act there can be no defence in law, morality, 
 or religion." 
 
 These words overpowered the culprit. He burst out 
 crying with great violence. 
 
 But it did not last long. He became strangely com- 
 posed all of a sudden; and said, "God forgive all con- 
 cerned in this — but one — but one." 
 
 He then bowed respectfully, and like a gentleman, to 
 the judge, and the jury, and walked out of the dock with 
 the air of a man who had parted with emotion, and would 
 march to the gallows now without flinching. 
 
 The counsel for the Crown required that the forged 
 document should be impounded. 
 
 "I was about to make the same demand," said the 
 prisoner's counsel. 
 
 The judge snubbed them both, and said it was a matter 
 of course. 
 
 Eobert Penfold spent a year in separate confinement, 
 and then, to cure him of its salutary effect (if any) was 
 
FOUL PLAT. 23 
 
 sent on board the hulk "Vengeance," and was herded 
 with the greatest miscreants in creation. They did not 
 reduce him to their level, but they injured his mind; 
 and, before half his sentence had expired, he sailed for a 
 penal colony, a man with a hot coal in his bosom, a crea- 
 ture embittered, poisoned ; hoping little,' believing little, 
 fearing little, and hating much. 
 
 He took with him the prayerrbook his mother had 
 given him when he was ordained deacon. But he seldom 
 read beyond the fly-leaf : there the poor lady had writ- 
 ten at large her mother's heart, and her pious soul aspir- 
 ing heavenwards for her darling son. This, When all 
 seemed darkest, he would sometimes run to with moist 
 eyes ; for he was sure of his mother's love, but almost 
 doubted the justice of his God. 
 
24 FOUL PLATw 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 
 Me. Waedlaw went down to his son, and nursed him. 
 He kept the newspapers from him, and, on his fever 
 abating, had him conveyed by easy stages to the seaside, 
 and then sent him abroad. 
 
 The young man obeyed in gloomy silence. He never 
 asked after Eobert Penf old now — never mentioned his 
 name. He seemed, somehow, thankful to be controlled, 
 mind and body. 
 
 But, before he had been abroad a month, he wrote for 
 leave to return home, and to throw himself into busi- 
 ness. There was, for once, a nervous impatience in his 
 letters, and his father, who pitied him deeply, and was 
 more than ever inclined to reward and indulge him, 
 yielded readily enough, and, on his arrival, signed the 
 partnership deed, and Polonius-like, gave him much 
 good counsel, and then retired to his country-seat. 
 
 At first, he used to run up every three days, and 
 examine the day-book and ledger, and advise his junior ; 
 but these visits soon became fewer, and at last he did 
 little more than correspond occasionally. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw held the reins, and easily paid his 
 Oxford debts out of the assets of the firm. Not being 
 happy in his mind, he threw himself into commerce 
 with feverish zeal, and very soon extended the opera- 
 tions of the house. 
 
 One of his first acts of authority was to send for 
 Michael Penfold into his room. Now, poor old Michael, 
 ever since his son's misfortune, as he called it, had crept 
 to his desk like a culprit, expecting every day to be 
 
POtJL PLAT. 25 
 
 cBscharged. When he received the summons, he gave a, 
 sigh, and went slowly to the young merchant. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw looked up at his entrance, then 
 looked down again, and said coldly : 
 
 " Mr. Penf old, you have been a faithful servant to us 
 many years ; I raise your salary fifty pounds a year, and 
 you will keep the ledger." - 
 
 The old man was dumbfounded at first, and then 
 began to give vent to his surprise and gratitude; but 
 Wardlaw cut him short, almost fiercely. " There, there, 
 there," said he, without raising his eyes, " let me hear 
 no more about it, and, above all, never speak to me of 
 that cursed business. It was no fault of yours, nor mine 
 neither. There — go — I want no thanks. Do you hear ? 
 leave me, Mr. Penfold, if you please." 
 
 The old man bowed low and retired, wondering much 
 at his employer's goodness, and a little at his irritability. 
 
 Wardlaw junior's whole soul was given to business 
 night and day, and he soon became known for a very 
 ambitious and rising merchant. But, by-and-by, ambi- 
 tion had to encounter a rival in his heart. He fell in 
 love ; deeply in love ; and with a worthy object. 
 
 The young lady was the daughter of a distinguished 
 oifieer, whose merits were universally recognized, but 
 not rewarded in proportion. Wardlaw's suit was favor- 
 ably received by the father, and the daughter gradually 
 yielded to an attachment, the warmth, sincerity, and 
 singleness of which were manifest ; and the pair would 
 have been married, but for the circumstance that her 
 father (partly through Wardlaw's influence, by-the-by) 
 had obtained a lucrative post abroad, which it suited his 
 means to accept, at all events for a time. He was a 
 widower, and his daughter could not let him go alone. 
 
 This temporary separation, if it postponed a marriage, 
 led naturally to a solemn engagement; and Arthur 
 
26 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Wardlaw enjoyed the happiness of writing and receiv- 
 ing affectionate letters by every foreign post. Love, 
 worthily bestowed, shed its balm upon his heart, and 
 under its soft but powerful charm he grew tranquil and 
 complacent, and his character and temper seemed to 
 improve. Such virtue is there in a pure attachment. 
 
 Meanwhile the extent of his operations alarmed old 
 Penfold ; but he soon reasoned that worthy down with 
 overpowering conclusions and superior smiles. 
 
 He had been three years the ruling spirit of Wardlaw 
 and Son, when some curious events took place in another 
 hemisphere ; and in these events, which we are now to 
 relate, Arthur Wardlaw was more nearly interested than 
 may appear at first sight. 
 
 Eobert Penfold, in due course, applied to Lieutenant- 
 General EoUeston for a ticket of leave. That function- 
 ary thought the application premature, the crime being 
 so grave. He complained that the system had become 
 too lax, and for his part he seldom gave a ticket of leave 
 until some suitable occupation was provided for the 
 applicant. " Will anybody take you as a clerk ? If so 
 — I'll see about it." 
 
 Eobert Penfold could find nobody to take him into a 
 post of confidence all at once, and wrote the General an 
 eloquent letter, begging hard to be allowed to labor with 
 his hands. 
 
 Fortunately, General EoUeston's gardener had just 
 turned him off : so he offered the post to his eloquent 
 correspondent, remarking that he did not much mind 
 employing a ticket-of-leave man himself, though he waa 
 resolved to protect his neighbors from their relapses. 
 
 The convict then came to General EoUeston,' ^nd 
 begged leave to enter on his duties under the name of 
 James Seaton. At that General EoUeston hem'd and 
 
VOVh PLAY. 27 
 
 haw'd, and took a note. But his final decision was as 
 follows : "If you really mean to change your character, 
 why, the name you have disgraced might hang round 
 your neck. Well, I'll give you every chance. But," 
 said this old warrior, suddenly compressing his resolute 
 lips just a little, "if you go a yard off the straight path 
 now, look for no mercy — Jemmy Seaton." 
 
 So the convict was re-christened at the tail of a threat, 
 and let loose among the warrior's tulips. 
 
 His appearance was changed as effectually as his 
 name. Even before he was Seatoned he had grown a 
 silky mustache and beard of singular length and beauty; 
 and what with these, and his workingman's clothes, and 
 his cheeks and neck tanned by the sun, our readers would 
 never have recognized in this hale, bearded laborer, 
 the pale prisoner that had trembled, raged, wept, and 
 submitted in the dock of the Central Criminal Court. 
 
 Our universities cure men of doing things by halves, 
 be the things mental or muscular ; so Seaton gardened 
 much more zealously than his plebeian predecessor : up 
 at five, and did not leave till eight. 
 
 But he was unpopular in the kitchen — because he 
 was always out of it: taciturn and bitter, he shunned 
 his fellow-servants. 
 
 Yet working among the flowers did him good ; these 
 his pretty companions and nurslings had no vices. 
 
 One day, as he was rolling the grass upon the lawn, 
 he heard a soft rustle at some distance, and, looking 
 round, saw a young lady on the gravel path, whose calm 
 but bright face, coming so suddenly, literally dazzled 
 him. She had a clear cheek blooming with exercise, 
 rich brown hair, smooth, glossy, and abundant, and a 
 very light hazel eye, of singular beauty and serenity. 
 She glided along, tranquil as a goddess, smote him with 
 beauty and perfume, and left him staring after her reced- 
 
28 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 ing figute, whicli waSj in its way, as captivating as her 
 face. 
 
 She was walking up and down for exercise, briskly, 
 but without effort. Once she passed within a few yards 
 of him, but her eyes did not rest an instant on her gar- 
 dener; and so she passed and repassed, unconsciously 
 sawing this solitary heart with soft but penetrating 
 thrills. 
 
 At last she went indoors to luncheon, and the lawn 
 seemed to miss the light music of her rustling dress, and 
 the sunshine of her presence, and there was a painful 
 void ; but that passed, and a certain sense of happiness 
 stole over James Seaton, — an unreasonable joy, that 
 often runs before folly and trouble. 
 
 The young lady was Helen EoUeston, just returned 
 home from a visit. She walked in the garden every 
 day, and Seaton watched her, and peeped at her, unseen, 
 behind trees and bushes. He fed his eyes and his heart 
 upon her, and by degrees she became the sun of his 
 solitary existence. It was madness ; but its first effect 
 was not unwholesome. The daily study of this creature, 
 who, though by no means the angel he took her for, was 
 at all events a pure and virtuous woman, soothed his 
 sore heart, and counteracted the demoralizing influences 
 6f his late companions. Every day he drank deeper of 
 an insane, but purifying and elevating passion. 
 
 He avoided the kitchen still more ; and that, by-the- 
 by, was unlucky; for there he could have learned 
 something about Miss Helen EoUeston, that would 
 have warned him to keep at the other end of the garden, 
 whenever that charming face and form glided to and fro 
 amongst the minor flowers. 
 
 A beautiful face fires our imagination, and we see 
 higher virtue and intelligence in it, than we can detect 
 in its owner's head or heart when we descend to calm 
 
FOUIi PLAX. 20 
 
 inspeotion. James Seaton gazed on Miss EoUeston day 
 after day, at so respectful a distance, that she became 
 his goddess. If a day passed without his seeing her, he 
 was dejected. When she was behind her time, he wag 
 restless, anxious, and his work distasteful; and then, 
 when she came out at last, he thrilled all over, and the 
 lawn, ay, the world itself, seemed to fill with sunshine. 
 His adoration, timid by its own nature, was doubly so 
 by reason of his fallen and hopeless condition. He cut 
 nosegays for her; but gave them to her maid Wilson 
 for her. He had not the courage to offer them to her- 
 self. 
 
 One evening, as he went home, a man addressed him 
 familiarly, but in a low voice. Seaton looked at him 
 attentively, and recognized him at last. It was a convict 
 called Butt, who had come over in the ship with him. 
 The man offered him a glass of ale ; Seaton declined it. 
 Butt, a very clever rogue, seemed hurt : so then Seaton 
 assented reluctantly. Butt took him to a public-house 
 in a narrow street, and into a private room. Seaton 
 started as soon as he entered, for there sat two repulsive 
 ruffians, and, by a look that passed rapidly between them 
 and Butt, he saw plainly they were waiting for him. 
 He felt nervous; the place was so uncouth and dark, 
 the faces so villanous. 
 
 However, they invited him to sit down, roughly, but 
 with an air of good fellowship ; and very soon opened 
 their business over their ale. We are all bound to assist 
 our fellow-creatures, when it can be done without trouble ; 
 and what they asked of him was a simple act of courtesy, 
 such as in their opinion no man worthy of the name 
 could deny to his fellow. It was to give General 
 EoUeston's watch-dog a piece of prepared meat upon a 
 certain evening : and in return for this trifling civility, 
 they were generous enough to offer him a full share of 
 
30 FOUIi PLAT. 
 
 any light valuables they might find in the General's 
 house. 
 
 Seaton felt the danger of refusing, and put his face in 
 his hands a moment. " I cannot do it," said he. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "He has been too good to me." 
 
 A coarse laugh of derision greeted this argument ; it 
 seemed so irrelevant to these pure egotists. Seaton, 
 however, persisted, and on that one of the men got up 
 and stood before the door, and drew his knife gently. 
 
 Seaton glanced his eyes round in search of a weapon, 
 and turned pale. 
 
 "Do you mean to split on us, mate ? " said one of the 
 rufBans in front of him. 
 
 "No, I don't. But I won't rob my benefactor; you 
 shall kill me first." And with that he darted to the 
 fire-place, and in a moment the poker was high in air, 
 and the way he squared his shoulders and stood ready 
 to hit to the on, or cut to the off, was a caution. 
 
 " Come, drop that," said Butt, grimly ; " and put up 
 your knife, Bob. C an't a pal be out of a job, and yet 
 not split on them that is in it ? " 
 
 "Why should I split ? " said Kobert Penfold. "Has 
 the law been a friend to me? But I won't rob my 
 benefactor — and his daughter." 
 
 "That is square enough," said Butt. " Why, pals, there 
 are other cribs to be cracked beside that old bloke's. 
 Finish the ale, mate, and part friends." 
 
 " If you will promise me to ' crack some other crib,' 
 and let that alone." 
 
 A sullen assent was given, and Seaton drank their 
 healths, and walked away. Butt followed him soon 
 after, and affected to side with him, and intimated that 
 he himself was capable of not robbing a man's house 
 who had been good to him, or to a pal of his. Indeed, 
 
POUIi PLAY. 31 
 
 this plausible person said so much, and his sullen com- 
 rades had said so little, that Seaton, rendered keen and 
 anxious by lore, invested his savings in a Colt's revolver 
 and ammunition. 
 
 He did not stop there ; after the hint about the ■watch- 
 dog, he would not trust that faithful but too carnivorous 
 animal; he brought his blankets into the little tool- 
 house, and lay there every night in a sort of dog's sleep. 
 This tool-house was erected in a little back garden, sepa- 
 rated from the lawn only by some young trees in single 
 file. Now Miss EoUeston's window looked out upon 
 the lawn, so that Seaton's watch-tower was not many 
 yards from it ; then, as the tool-house was only lighted 
 from above, he bored a hole in the wooden structure, 
 and through this he watched, and slept, and watched. 
 He used to sit studying theology by a farthing rushlight 
 till the lady's bed-time, and then he watched for her 
 shadow. If it appeared for a few moments on the blind, 
 he gave a sigh of content, and went to sleep, but awaked 
 every now and then to see that all was well. 
 
 After a few nights, his alarms naturally ceased ; but 
 his love increased, fed now from this new source, the 
 sweet sense of being the secret protector of her he 
 adored. 
 
 Meantime, Miss Rolleston's lady's-maid, Wilson, fell 
 in love with him after her fashion; she had taken a 
 fancy to his face at once, and he had encouraged her a 
 little, unintentionally; for he brought the nosegays to 
 her, and listened complacently to her gossip, for the 
 sake of the few words she let fall now and then about 
 her young mistress. As he never exchanged two sen- 
 tences at a time with any other servant, this flattered 
 Sarah Wilson, and she soon began to meet and accost 
 him oftener, and in cherrier-colored ribbons, than he 
 could stand. So then he showed impatience, and then 
 
32 FOUL FhAY. 
 
 she, reading Hm by herself, suspected some vulgar rival. 
 Suspicion soon bred jealousy, jealousy vigilance, and 
 vigilance detection. 
 
 Her first discovery was, that, so long as she talked of 
 Miss Helen RoUeston, she was always welcome; her 
 second was, that Seaton slept in the tool-house. 
 
 She was not romantic enough to connect her two 
 discoveries together. They lay apart in her mind, 
 until circumstances we are about to relate supplied a 
 connecting link. 
 
 One Thursday evening James Seaton's goddess sat 
 alone with her papa, and — being a young lady of fair 
 abilities, who had gone through her course of music .and 
 other studies, taught brainlessly, and who was now 
 going through a course of monotonous pleasures, and 
 had not accumulated any great store of mental resources 
 — she was listless and languid, and would have yawned 
 forty times in her papa's face, only she was too well- 
 bred. She always turned her head away when it came, 
 and either suppressed it, or else hid it with a lovely 
 white hand. At last, as she was a good girl, she blushed 
 at her behavior, and roused herself up, and said she, 
 " Papa, shall I play you the new quadrilles ? " 
 
 Papa gave a start and a shake, and said, with well- 
 feigned vehemence, " Ay, do, my dear," and so composed 
 himself — to listen ; and Helen sat down and played the 
 quadrilles. 
 
 The composer had taken immortal melodies, some 
 gay, some sad, and had robbed them of their distinctive 
 character, and hashed them, till they were all one monoto- 
 nous rattle. But General KoUeston was little the worse 
 for all this. As Apollo saved Horace from hearing a 
 poetaster's rhymes, so did Somnus, another beneficent 
 little deity, rescue our warrior from his daughter's 
 music. 
 
FOTTL PLAY. 33 
 
 She was neitheT angry nor surprised. A delicious 
 smile illumined her face directly ; she crept to him on 
 tip-toe, and bestowed a kiss, light as a zephyr, on his 
 gray head. And, in truth, the bending attitude of this 
 supple figure, clad in snowy muslin, the virginal face 
 and light hazel eye beaming love and reverence, and the 
 airy kiss, had something angelic. 
 
 She took her candle, and glided up to her bedroom. 
 And, the moment she got there, and could gratify her 
 somnolence without offence, need we say she became 
 wide-awake ? She sat down and wrote long letters to 
 three other young ladies, gushing affection, asking ques- 
 tions of the kind nobody replies to, painting, with a 
 young lady's colors, the male being to whom she was 
 shortly to be married, wishing her dear friends a like 
 demi-god, if perchance earth contained two; and so to 
 the last new bonnet, and preacher. 
 
 She sat over her paper till one o'clock, and Seaton 
 watched and adored her shadow. 
 
 When she had done writing, she opened her window 
 and looked out upon the night. She lifted those won- 
 derful hazel eyes towards the stars, and her watcher 
 might well be pardoned if he saw in her a celestial being 
 looking up from an earthly resting-place towards her 
 native sky. 
 
 At two o'clock she was in bed, but not asleep. She 
 lay calmly gazing at the Southern Cross, and other 
 lovely stars shining with vivid, but chaste, fire in the 
 purple vault of heaven. 
 
 While thus employed she heard a slight sound outside 
 that made hex turn her eyes towards a young tree near 
 her window. Its top branches were waving a good deal, 
 though there was not a breath stirring. This struck her 
 as curious, very curious. 
 
 Whilst she wondered, suddenly an arm and a hand 
 3 
 
34 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 came in sight, and after them the whole figure of a man, 
 going up the tree. 
 
 Helen sat up no-w, glaring with terror, and was so 
 paralyzed she did not utter a sound. Ahout a foot 
 below her window was a lead flat that roofed the bay- 
 window below. It covered an area of several feet, and 
 the man sprung on to it with perfect ease from the tree. 
 Helen shrieked with terror. At that very instant there 
 was a flash, a pistol shot, and the man's arms went 
 whirling, and he staggered and fell over the edge of the 
 flat, and struck the grass below with a heavy thud. 
 Shots and blows foU'owed, and all the sounds of fierce 
 fighting rung in Helen's ears as she flung hersplf scream- 
 ing from the bed and darted to the door. She ran and 
 clung quivering to her sleepy maid Wilson. The house 
 was alarmed, lights flashed, footsteps pattered, there was 
 universal commotion. 
 
 General RoUeston soon learned his daughter's story 
 from Wilson, and aroused his male servants, one of whom 
 was an old soldier. They searched the house first ; but 
 no entrance had been effected ; so they went out on the 
 lawn with blunderbuss and pistol. 
 
 They found a man lying on his back at the foot of the 
 bay window. 
 
 They pounced on him, and, to their amazement, it was 
 the gardener, James Seaton. Insensible. 
 
 General EoUeston was quite taken aback for a moment. 
 Then he was sorry. But after a little reflection, he 
 said very sternly, " Carry the blackguard in-doors ; and 
 run for an officer." 
 
 Seaton was taken into the hall, and laid flat on the 
 floor. 
 
 All the servants gathered about him, brimful of curi- 
 osity, and the female ones began to speak all together ; 
 but General EoUeston told them sharply to hold their 
 
FOUIi PIiAY. 35 
 
 tongues, and to retire behind the man. "Somebody 
 sprinkle liini with cold water," said he ; " and be quiet, 
 all of you, and keep out of his sight, while I examine 
 him." He stood before the insensible figure with his 
 arms folded, amidst a dead silence, broken only by the 
 stifled sobs of Sarah Wilson, and of a sociable house- 
 maid who cried with her for company. 
 
 And now Seaton began to writhe and show signs of 
 returning sense. 
 
 Next he moaned piteously, and sighed. But General 
 Eolleston could not pity him; he waited grimly for 
 returning consciousness, to subject him to a merciless 
 interrogatory. 
 
 He waited just one second too long. He had to 
 answer a question instead of putting one. 
 
 The judgment is the last faculty a man recovers when 
 emerging from insensibility; and Seaton, seeing the 
 General standing before him, stretched out his hands, 
 and said, in a faint but earnest voice, before eleven 
 witnesses, "Is she safe? Oh, is she safe?" 
 
36 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEK IV. 
 
 Sarah Wilson left off crying, and looked down on 
 the ground with a very red face. General Rollestoa was 
 amazed. "Is she safe! Is who safe?" said he. "He 
 means my mistress,", replied Wilson, rather brusquely ; 
 and flounced out of the hall. 
 
 " She is safe, no thanks to you," said General RoUeston. 
 "What were you doing under her window at this time 
 of night ? " And the harsh tone in which this question 
 was put showed Seaton he was suspected. This wounded 
 him, and he replied doggedly, " Lucky for you all I was 
 there." 
 
 " That is no answer to my question," said the General, 
 sternly. 
 
 " It is all the answer I shall give you." 
 
 "Then I shall hand you over to the officer, without 
 another word." 
 
 "Do, sir, do," said Seaton, bitterly; but he added 
 more gently, " You will be sorry for it when you come 
 to your senses." 
 
 At this moment Wilson entered with a message. " If 
 you please, sir, Miss EoUeston says the robber had no 
 beard. Miss have never noticed Seaton's face, but his 
 beard she have ; and oh ! if you please, sir, she begged 
 me to ask him — Was it you that fired the pistol and 
 shot the robber?" 
 
 The delivery of this ungrammatical message, but 
 rational query, was like a ray of light streaming into a 
 dark place : it changed the whole aspect of things. As 
 for Seaton, he received it as if Heaven was speaking to 
 
FOUli PIjAS;; 37, 
 
 him through Wilson. His sullen air relaxed, the water 
 stood in his eyes, he smiled affectionately, and said in a 
 low tender voice, " Tell her I heard some bad characters 
 talking about this house — that was a month ago — so, 
 ever since then, I have slept in the tool-house to watch. 
 Yes, I shot the robber with my revolver, and I marked 
 one or two more ; but they were three to one ; I think 
 I must have got a blow on the head; for, I felt 
 nothing — " 
 
 Here he was interrupted by a violent scream from 
 Wilson. She pointed downwards, with her eyes glaring; 
 and a little blood was seen to be trickling slowly over 
 Seaton's stocking and shoe. 
 
 "Wounded," said the General's servant, Tom, in the 
 business-like accent of one who had seen a thousand 
 wounds. 
 
 "Oh! never mind thatj" said Seaton. "It can't be 
 very deep, for I, don't feel, it;" then fixing his eyes on 
 General RoUeston, he said, in a voice that broke down 
 suddenly, " There stands the only man who has wounded 
 me to-night, to hurt me." 
 
 The way General RoUeston received this point-blank 
 reproach surprised some persons present, who had ob- 
 served only the imperious and iron side of his character. 
 He hung his head in silence a moment; then, being 
 discontented with himself, he went into a passion 
 with his servants for standing idle. "Run away, you 
 women," said he, roughly. "Now, Tom, if you are 
 good for anything, strip the man and stanch his wound. 
 Andrew, a bottle of port, qnibk ! " 
 
 Then, leaving him for a while in friendly hands, he 
 went to his daughter, and asked her if she saw any 
 objection to a bed being made up in the house for the 
 wounded convict. 
 
 "Oh, papa," said she^ "why, of course nob. I am all 
 
38 pouIj plat. 
 
 gratitude. What is he like, Wilson? for it is a most 
 provoking thing, I never noticed his face, only his 
 beautiful beard glittering in the sunshine ever so far off. 
 Poor young man! Oh yes, papa! send him to bed 
 directly, and we ■will all nurse him. I never did any 
 good in the world yet, and so why not begin at once ? " 
 
 General RoUeston laughed at this squirt of enthusiasm 
 from his staid daughter, and went off to give the requi- 
 site orders. 
 
 But Wilson followed him immediately and stopped 
 him in the passage. "If you please, sir, I think you 
 had better not. I have something to tell you." She 
 then communicated to him by degrees her suspicion that 
 James Seaton was in love with his daughter. He treated 
 this with due ridicule at first; but she gave him one 
 reason after another till she staggered him, and he went 
 downstairs in a most mixed and puzzled frame of mind, 
 inclined to laugh, inclined to be angry, inclined to be 
 sorry. 
 
 The officer had just arrived, and was looking over 
 some photographs to see if James Seaton was " one of 
 his birds." Such, alas ! was his expression. 
 
 At sight of this, EoUeston colored up ; but extricated 
 himself from the double difficulty with some skill. 
 "Hexham," said he, "this poor fellow has behaved like 
 a man, and got himself wounded in my service. You 
 are to take him to the infirmary ; but mind, they must 
 treat him like my own son, and nothing he asks for 
 denied him." 
 
 Seaton walked with feeble steps, and leaning on two 
 men, to the infirmary ; and General Eolleston ordered a 
 cup of coffee, lighted a cigar, and sat cogitating over 
 this strange business, and asking himself how he could 
 get rid of this young madman, and yet befriend him. 
 As for Sarah Wilson, she went to bed discontented, and 
 
FOUL PLAT. 39 
 
 wondering at her own bad judgment. She saw, too late, 
 that, if she had held her tongue, Seaton would have 
 been her patient and her prisoner; and as for Miss 
 Kolleston, when it came to the point, why, she would 
 never have nursed him except by proxy, and the proxy 
 would have been Sarah Wilson. 
 
 However, the blunder, blind passion had led her into 
 was partially repaired by Miss EoUeston herself. Wlien 
 she heard next day where Seaton was gone, she lifted up 
 her hands in amazement. "What could papa be thinking 
 of to send our benefactor to a hospital?" And, after 
 meditating awhile, she directed Wilson to cut a nosegay 
 and carry it to Seaton. "He is a gardener," said she 
 innocently. "Of course he will miss his flowers sadly 
 in that miserable place." 
 
 And she gave the same order every day with a con- 
 stancy that, you must know, formed part of this young 
 lady's character. Soup, wine, and jellies were sent from 
 the kitchen every other day with equal pertinacity. 
 
 Wilson concealed the true donor of all those things, 
 and took the credit to herself. By this means she 
 obtained the patient's gratitude, and he showed it so 
 frankly, she hoped to steal his love as well. , 
 
 But no ! his fancy and his heart remained true to the 
 cold beauty he had served so well, and she had forgotten 
 him, apparently. 
 
 This irritated Wilson at last, and she set to work to 
 cure him with wholesome but bitter medicine. She sat 
 down beside him one day, and said cheerfully, "We are 
 all ' on the key-feet ' just now. Miss EoUeston's beau is 
 come on a visit." 
 
 The patient opened his eyes with astonishment. 
 
 "Miss EoUeston's beau ?" 
 
 "Ay, her intended. What, didn't you know she la 
 engaged to be married ? " 
 
40 FOUIi PLAY. 
 
 « She engaged to be married ? " gasped Seaton. 
 
 Wilson watched him with a remorseless eye. 
 
 "Why, James," said she after awhile, "did you think 
 the likes of her would go through the world without a 
 mate ? " 
 
 Seaton made no reply but a moan, and lay back like 
 one dead, utterly crushed by this cruel blow. 
 
 A buxom middle-aged nurse now came up, and said, 
 with a touch of severity, " Come, my good girl, no doubt 
 you mean well, but you are doing ill. You had better 
 leave him to us for the present." 
 
 On this hint Wilson bounced out, and left the patient 
 to his misery. 
 
 At her next visit she laid a nosegay on his bed, and 
 gossiped away, talking of every thing in the world except 
 Miss Eolleston. 
 
 At last she came to a pause, and Seaton laid his hand 
 on her arm directly, and looking piteously in her face, 
 spoke his first word. 
 
 " Does she love him ? " 
 
 "What, still harping on her?" said Wilson; "well, 
 she doesn't hate him, I suppose, or she would not marry 
 him." 
 
 " For pity's sake don't trifle with me ! Does she love 
 him ? " 
 
 "La, James, how can I tell? She mayn't love him 
 quite as much as I could love a man, that took my 
 fancy " (here she cast a languishing glance on Seaton) ; 
 "but I see no difference between her and other young 
 ladies. Miss is very fond of her papa, for one thing; 
 and he favors the match. Ay, and she likes her partner 
 well enough : she is brighter like now he is in the house, 
 and she reads all her friends' letters to him ever so lov- 
 ingly ; and I do notice she leans on him out walking, a 
 trifle more than there is any need for." 
 
F0T7L PLAY. 41 
 
 At this pioture James Seaton writhed in his bed like 
 some agonized creature under vivisection ; but the woman, 
 spurred by jealousy, and also by egotistical passion, had 
 no mercy left for Mm, 
 
 " And why not ? " continued she ; " he is young, and 
 handsome, and rich, and he dotes on her. If you are 
 really her friend, you ought to be glad she is so well 
 suited." 
 
 At this admonition the tears stood in Seaton's eyes, 
 and, after a while, he got strength to say, "I know I 
 ought, I know it. If he is only worthy of her : as worthy 
 as any man could be." 
 
 "That he is, James. Why, I'll be bound you have 
 heard of him. It is young Mr. Wardlaw." 
 
 Seaton started up in bed. " Who ? Wardlaw ? what 
 Wardlaw ? " 
 
 "What Wardlaw? why the great London merchant, 
 his son. Leastways he manages the whole concern now, 
 I hear ; the old gentleman, he is retired by all accounts." 
 
 " Arthur Wardlaw ! He is a villain ! " yelled James 
 Seaton, with his eyes glaring fearfully, and both hands 
 beating the air. 
 
 Sarah Wilson recoiled with alarm. 
 
 " That angel marry him ! " shrieked Seaton. " Never, 
 while I live : I'll throttle him with these hands first." 
 
 What more his ungovernable fury would have uttered 
 was interrupted by a rush of nurses and attendants, and 
 Wilson was bundled out of the place with little ceremony. 
 
 He contrived however to hurl a word after her, accom- 
 panied with a look of concentrated rage and resolution 
 that haunted her for years. 
 
 "Never, I tell you — while I live," 
 
 At her next visit to the hospital, Wilson was refused, 
 admission, by order of the head surgeon. She left her;' 
 flowers daily all the same. 
 
42 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 t 
 
 After a few days, she thought the matter might have 
 cooled, and, having a piece of news to communicate to 
 Seaton, with respect to Arthur Wardlaw, she asked to see 
 that patient. 
 
 " Left the hospital this morning," was the reply. 
 
 "What, cured?" 
 
 " Why not ? We have cured worse cases than his." 
 
 " Where has he gone to ? Pray tell me." 
 
 "Oh, certainly." And inquiry was made. But the 
 reply was, " Left no address." 
 
 Sarah Wilson, like many other women of high and low 
 degree, had swift misgivings of mischief to come. She 
 was taken with a fit of trembling, and had to sit down in 
 the hall. 
 
 And, to tell the truth, she had cause to tremble ; for 
 that tongue of hers had launched two wild beasts — 
 Jealousy and Eevenge. 
 
 When she got better she went home, and, cowardlike, 
 said not a word to living soul. 
 
 That day, Arthur Wardlaw dined with General Eolles- 
 ton and Helen. They were to be alone for a certain 
 reason ; and he came half an hour before dinner. Helen 
 thought he would, and was ready for him on the lawn. 
 
 They walked arm-in-arm, talking of the happiness 
 before them, and regretting a temporary separation that 
 was to intervene. He was her father's choice, and she 
 loved her father devotedly ; he was her male property ; 
 and young ladies like that sort of property, especially 
 when they see nothing to dislike in it. He loved her 
 passionately, and that was her due, and pleased her, and 
 drew a gentle affection, if not a passion, from her in 
 return. Yes, that lovely forehead did come very near 
 young Wardlaw's shoulder, more than once or twice as 
 they strolled slowly up and down on the soft mossy turf. 
 
 And, on the other side of the hedge that bounded the 
 
POtTL PLAY. 43 
 
 lawn, a man lay croucheii in the ditch, and saw it all 
 ■with gleaming eyes. 
 
 Just before the aflBanced ones went in, Helen said, " I 
 have a little favor to ask you, dear. The poor man, 
 Seaton, who fought the robbers, and was wounded — 
 papa says he is a man of education, and wanted to be a 
 clerk or something. Could you find him a place ? " 
 
 " I think I can," said Wardlaw ; " indeed, I am sure. 
 A line to White and Co. will do it ; they want a shipping 
 clerk." 
 
 " Oh, how good you are ! " said IJelen ; and lifted her 
 face all beaming with thanks. 
 
 The opportunity was tempting; the lover fond': two 
 faces met for a single moment, and one of the two burned 
 for five minutes after. 
 
 The basilisk eyes saw the soft collision ; but the owner 
 of those eyes did not hear the words that earned him 
 that torture. He lay still and bided his time. 
 
 General EoUeston's house stood clear of the town, at 
 the end of a short but narrow and tortuous lane. This 
 situation had tempted the burglars whom Seaton bailed ; 
 and now it tempted Seaton. 
 
 Wardlaw must pass that way on leaving General 
 EoUeston's house. 
 
 At a bend of the lane two twin elms stood out a 
 foot or two from the hedge. Seaton got behind these at 
 about ten o'clock, and watched for him with a patience 
 and immobility that boded ill. 
 
 His preparations for this encounter were singular. He 
 had a close-shutting inkstand and a pen, and one sheet 
 of paper, at the top of which he had written "Sydney," 
 and the day of the month and year, leaving the rest 
 blank. And he had the revolver with which he had shot 
 the robber at Helen EoUeston's window. 
 
44 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The moon went down ; the stars shone out clearer. 
 
 Eleven o'clock boomed from a cliurcli clock in the 
 town. 
 
 Wardlaw did not come, and Seaton did not move from 
 his ambush. 
 
 Twelve o'clock boomed, and Wardlaw never came, and 
 Seaton never moved. 
 
 Soon after midnight, General Kolleston's hall-door 
 opened, and a figure appeared in a flood of light. 
 Seaton's eyes gleamed at the sight, for it was young 
 Wardlaw, with a footman at his back holding a lighted 
 lamp. 
 
 Wardlaw, however, seemed in no hurry to leave the 
 house, and the reason soon appeared ; he was joined by 
 Helen RoUeston, and she was equipped for walking. 
 The watcher saw her serene face shine in the light. 
 The general came next ; and, as they left the door, out 
 came Tom with a blunderbuss, and brought up the rear. 
 Seaton drew behind the trees, and postponed, but did 
 not resign, his purpose. 
 
 Steps and murmurings came, and passed him, and 
 receded. 
 
 The only words he caught distinctly came from Ward- 
 l&w, as he passed. " It is nearly high tide. I fear we 
 must make haste." 
 
 Seaton followed the whole party at a short distance, 
 feeling' sure they would eventually separate, and give 
 him his opportunity with Wardlaw. 
 
 They went down to the harbor and took a boat ; Seaton 
 
FOTJL PLAT. 45 
 
 came nearer, and learned they were going on board the 
 great steamer bound for England that loomed so black, 
 with monstrous eyes of J&re. 
 
 They put off, and Seaton stood baffled. 
 
 Presently the black monster, with enormous eyes of 
 fire, spouted her steam like a leviathan, and then was 
 still ; next the smoke puffed, the heavy paddles revolved, 
 and she rushed out of the harbor ; and Seaton sat down 
 upon the ground, and all seemed ended. Helen gone to 
 England ! Wardlaw gone with her ! Love and revenge 
 had alike eluded him. He looked up at the sky, and 
 played with the pebbles at his feet, stupidly, stupidly. 
 He wondered why he was ever born ; why he consented 
 to live a single minute after this. His angel and his 
 demon gone home together, and he left here ! 
 
 He wrote a few lines on the paper he had intended 
 for Wardlaw, sprinkled them with sand, and put them 
 in his bosom, then stretched himself out with a weary 
 moan, like a dying dog, to wait the flow of the tide and, 
 with it, Death. Whether or not his resolution or his 
 madness would have carried him so far cannot be knownj 
 for even as the water rippled in and, trickling under his 
 back, chilled him to the bone, a silvery sound struck his 
 ear. He started to his feet, and life and its joys rushed 
 back upon him. * It was the voice of the woman he loved 
 so madly. 
 
 Helen Eolleston was on the water, coming ashore 
 a^ain in the little boat. 
 
 He crawled, like a lizard, among the boats ashore to 
 catch a sight of her: he did see her, and was near 
 her, unseen himself. She landed with her father. So 
 Wardlaw was gone to England , without her. Seaton 
 trembled with joy. Presently his goddess ■, began to 
 lament in the prettiest way. "Papa ! papa ! " she sighed, 
 " why must friends part, in this sad world ? Poor 
 
46 FOXTL PLAY. 
 
 Arthur is gone from me : and by and by I shall go from 
 you, my own papa." At that prospect she wept gently. 
 
 " Why, you foolish child ! " said the old general, ten- 
 derly, "what matters a little parting, when we are all 
 to meet again in dear old England ? Well then, there, 
 have a cry; it will do you good." He patted her head 
 tenderly, as she clung to his warlike breast; and she 
 took him at his word ; the tears ran swiftly and glistened 
 in the very starlight. 
 
 Seaton's heart yearned at all this. 
 
 What ! mustn't he say a word to comfort her ; he, 
 who at that moment, would have thought no more of 
 dying to serve her, or to please her, than he would 
 of throwing one of those pebbles into that slimy water ? 
 
 Well, her pure tears somehow cooled his hot brain, 
 and washed his soul, and left him wondering at himself 
 and his misdeeds this night. His guardian angel seemed 
 to go by and wave her dewy wings, and fan his hot 
 passions as she passed. 
 
 He kneeled down and thanked God he had not met 
 Arthur Wardlaw in that dark lane. 
 
 Then he went home to his humble lodgings, and there 
 buried himself; and from that day seldom went out, 
 except to seek employment. He soon obtained it as a 
 copyist. 
 
 Meantime the police were on his track, employed 
 by a person with a gentle disposition, but a tenacity of 
 purpose truly remarkable. 
 
 Great was Seaton's uneasiness when one day he saw 
 Hexham at the foot of his stair ; greater still, when the 
 officer's quick eye caught sight of him, and his light 
 foot ascended the stairs directly. He felt sure Hexham 
 had heard of his lurking about General EoUeston's 
 premises. However, he prepared to defend himself to 
 the uttermost. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 47 
 
 Hexham came into his room without ceremony, and 
 looking mighty grim. " Well, my lad, so we have got 
 you after all." 
 
 " What is my crime, now ? " asked Seaton, sullenly. 
 
 "James," said the officer, very solemnly, "it is an 
 unheard-of crime this time. You have been running 
 away from a pretty girl. Now that is a mistake at all 
 times ; but when she is as beautiful as a angel, and rich 
 enough to slip a fiver into Dick Hexham's hands, and 
 lay him on your track, what is the use ? Letter for you, 
 my man." 
 
 Seaton took the letter with a puzzled air. It was 
 written in a clear but feminine hand, and slightly 
 scented. 
 
 The writer, in a few polished lines, excused herself 
 for taking extraordinary means to find Mr. Seaton ; but 
 hoped he would consider that he had laid her under a 
 deep obligation, and that gratitude will sometimes be 
 importunate. She had the pleasure to inform him that 
 the office of shipping clerk, at Messrs. White and Co.'s, 
 was at his service, and she hoped he would take it with- 
 out an hour's further delay, for she was assured that 
 many persons had risen to wealth and consideration in 
 the colony from such situations. 
 
 Then, as this wary but courteous young lady had no 
 wish to enter, into a correspondence with her ex-gardener, 
 she added, — 
 
 "Mr. Seaton need not trouble himself to reply to this note. 
 A simple ' yes ' to Mr. Hexham will be enough, and will give 
 sincere pleasure to Mr. Seaton's 
 
 " Obedient servant and well-wisher, 
 
 "Helen Anne Rolleston." 
 
 Seaton bowed his head over this letter in silent but 
 deep emotion. 
 
48 FOTTL PLAT. 
 
 Hexham respected that emotion and watched him with 
 a sort of vague sympathy. 
 
 Seaton lifted his head, and the tears stood thick in his 
 eyes. Said he, in a voice of exquisite softness, scarce 
 above a whisper, " Tell her ' yes,' and ' God bless her.' 
 Good-by. I want to go on my knees, and pray God to 
 bless her as she deserves." 
 
 Hexham took the hint, and retired softly. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 49 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 White and Co. stumbled on a treasure in James 
 Seaton. Your colonial clerk is not so narrow and 
 apathetic as your London clerk, whose two objects seem 
 to be, to learn one department only, and not to do too 
 much in that; but Seaton, a gentleman and a scholar, 
 eclipsed even colonial clerks in this, that he omitted no 
 opportunity of learning the whole business of White 
 and Co., and was also animated by a feverish zeal, that 
 now and then provoked laughter from clerks, but was 
 agreeable, as well as surprising, to White and Co. Of 
 that zeal, his incurable passion was partly the cause. 
 Fortunes had been made with great rapidity in Sydney ; 
 and Seaton now conceived a wild hope of acquiring one, 
 by some lucky hit, before Wardlaw could return to 
 Helen RoUeston. And yet his common sense said, If 
 I was as rich as Crcesus, how could she ever mate with 
 me, a stained man? And yet his burning heart said, 
 Don't listen to reason ; listen only to me. Try. 
 
 And so he worked double tides; and, in virtue of 
 his university education, had no snobbish notions about 
 never putting his hand to manual labor ; he would lay 
 down his pen at any moment, and bear a hand to lift a 
 chest, or roU a cask. Old White saw him thus multiply 
 himself, and was so pleased that he raised his salary 
 one-third. 
 
 He never saw Helen Rolleston, except on Sunday. 
 
 On that day he went to her church, and sat half behind 
 
 a pillar, and feasted his eyes and his heart upon her. 
 
 He lived sparingly, saved money, bought a strip of land, 
 
 4 
 
50 FOtrii PLAY. 
 
 by payment of ten pounds deposit, and sold it in forty 
 hours for one hundred pounds profit, and watched keenly 
 for similar opportunities on a larger scale ; and all for 
 her. Struggling with a mountain: hoping against rea- 
 son, and the world. 
 
 "White and Co. were employed to ship a valuable cargo 
 on board two vessels chartered by Wardlaw and Son, the 
 Shannon, and the Proserpine. 
 
 Both these ships lay in Sydney harbor, and had taken 
 in the bulk of their cargoes ; but the supplement was the 
 cream. For Wardlaw, in person, had warehoused eigh- 
 teen cases of gold dust and ingots, and forty of lead and 
 smelted copper. They were all examined and branded 
 by Mr. White, who had duplicate keys of the gold cases. 
 But the contents, as a matter of habit and prudence, 
 were not described outside ; but were marked Proserpine 
 and Shannon, respectively ; the mate of the Proserpine, 
 who was in Wardlaw's confidence, had written instruc- 
 tions to look carefully to the stowage of all these cases, 
 and was in and out of the store one afternoon just before 
 closing, and measured the cubic contents of. the cases, 
 with a view to stowage in the respective vessels. The 
 last time he came he seemed rather the worse for liquor ; 
 and Seaton, who accompanied him, having stepped out a 
 minute for something or other, was rather surprised on 
 his return to find the door closed, and it struck him Mr. 
 Wylie (that was the mate's name) might be inside ; the 
 more so as the door closed very easily with a spring bolt, 
 but could only be opened by a key of peculiar construc- 
 tion. Seaton took out his key, opened the door, and 
 called to the mate, but received no reply. However, 
 he took the precaution to go round the store, and see 
 whether Wylie, rendered somnolent by liquor, might not 
 be lying oblivious among the cases : Wylie, however, was 
 
FOXTIi PLAY. 61 
 
 not to be seen, and Seaton, finding himself alone, did 
 an unwise thing ; he came and contesmplated Wardlaw's 
 cases of metal and specie. (Men will go too near the 
 thing that causes their pain.) He eyed them with grief 
 and with desire, and could not restrain a sigh at these 
 material proofs of his rival's wealth: the wealth that 
 probably had smoothed his way to General KoUeston's 
 home, and to his daughter's heart; for wealth can pave 
 the way to hearts, ay even to hearts that cannot be 
 downright bought. This reverie no doubt lasted longer 
 than he thought, for presently he heard the loud rattle 
 of shutters going up below ; it was closing time ; he 
 hastily closed and locked the iron shutters, and then 
 went out and shut the door. 
 
 He had been gone about two hours, and that part of 
 the street, so noisy in business hours, was hushed in 
 silence, all but an occasional footstep on the flags outside, 
 when something mysterious occurred in the warehouse, 
 now as dark as pitch. 
 
 At an angle of the wall stood two large cases in a 
 vertical position, with smaller cases lying at their feet ; 
 these two cases were about eight feet high, more or less. 
 Well, behind these cases suddenly flashed a feeble light, 
 and the next moment two brown and sinewy hands ap- 
 peared on the edge of one of the cases — the edge next 
 the wall ; the case vibrated and rocked a little, and the 
 next moment there mounted on the top of it, not a cat, 
 nor a monkey, as might have been expected, but an ani- 
 mal that in truth resembles both those cLuadrupeds, viz., 
 a sailor ; and need we say that sailor was the mate of the 
 Proserpine ? He descended lightly from the top of the 
 case, behind which he had been jammed for hours, and 
 lighted a dark lantern; and went softly groping about 
 the store with it. This was a mysterious act, and would 
 perhaps have puzzled the proprietors of the store even 
 
62 FOUL PliAT. 
 
 more than it would a stranger: for a stranger would 
 have said at once this is burglary, or else arson; but 
 those acquainted with the place would have known that 
 neither of those crimes was very practicable. The enter- 
 prising sailor could not burn down this particular store 
 without roasting himself the first thing ; and indeed he 
 could not burn it down at all : for the roof was flat, and 
 was in fact one gigantic iron tank, like the roof of Mr. 
 Goding's brewery in London : and by a neat contrivance 
 of American origin, the whole tank could be turned in 
 one moment to a shower bath, and drown a conflagration 
 in thirty seconds or thereabouts;, nor could he rifle the 
 place ; the goods were greatly protected by their weight, 
 and it was impossible to get out of the store without 
 raising an alarm and being searched. 
 
 But, not to fall into the error of writers who underrate 
 their readers' curiosity and intelligence, and so deluge 
 them with comments and explanations, we will now 
 simply relate what Wylie did, leaving you to glean his 
 motives as this tale advances. 
 
 His jacket had large pockets, and he took out of them 
 a bunch of eighteen bright steel keys numbered, a set of 
 new screw-drivers, a flask of rum, and two ship biscuits. 
 
 He unlocked the eighteen cases marked Proserpine, 
 etc., and, peering in with his lantern, saw the gold dust 
 and small ingots packed in parcels and surrounded by 
 Australian wool of the highest possible quality. It was 
 a luscious sight. He then proceeded to a heavier task ; 
 he unscrewed, one after another, eighteen of the cases 
 marked Shannon, and the eighteen so selected, perhaps 
 by private marks, proved to be packed close, and on a 
 different system from the gold, viz., in pigs or square 
 blocks, three, or in some cases four, to each chest. Now, 
 these two ways of packing the specie and the baser metal 
 respectively, had the effect of producing a certain uni- 
 
FOOT. PLAT. 53 
 
 foimity of weight in the thirty-six cases Wylie was 
 inspecting; otherwise the gold cases would have been 
 twice the weight of those that contained the baser 
 metal : for lead is proverbially heavy, but under scien- 
 tific tests is to gold as five to twelve, or thereabouts. 
 
 In his secret and mysterious labor Wylie was often 
 interrupted. Whenever he heard a step on the pave- 
 ment outside, he drew the slide of his lantern and hid 
 the light. If he had examined the iron shutters, he 
 would have seen that his light could never pierce 
 through them into the street. But he was not aware 
 of this. Notwithstanding these occasional interruptions, 
 he worked so hard and continuously, that the perspirar 
 tion poured down him ere he had iinscrewed those eigh- 
 teen chests containing the pigs of lead. However, it was 
 done at last, and then he refreshed himself with a draught 
 from his flask. The next thing was, he took the three 
 pigs of lead out of one of the cases marked Shannon, 
 etc., and numbered fifteen, and laid them very gently on 
 the floor. Then he transferred to that empty case the 
 mixed contents of a case branded Proserpine 1, etc., and 
 this he did with the utmost care and nicety, lest gold 
 dust spilled should tell tales. And so he went on and 
 shifted the contents of the whole eighteen cases marked 
 Proserpine, etc., into eighteen cases marked Shannon, 
 etc., and refilled them with the Shannon's lead. Frolic- 
 some Mr. Wylie! Then he sat down on one of the 
 cases Proserpine, and ate a biscuit and drank a little 
 rum : not much : for at this part of his career he was a 
 very sober man, though he could feign drunkenness, or 
 anything else. 
 
 The gold was all at his mercy, yet he did not pocket 
 an ounce of it ; not even a penny-weight to make a wed- 
 ding-ring for Nancy Eouse. Mr. Wylie had a conscience, 
 and a very original one it was ; and, above all, he was 
 
54 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 very true to those he worked with. He carefully locked 
 the gold cases up again, and resumed the screw-driver, 
 for there was another heavy stroke of work to be done ; 
 and he went at it like a man. He carefully screwed 
 down again, one after another, all those eighteen cases 
 marked Shannon, which he had filled with gold-dust, and 
 then, heating a sailor's needle red hot over his burning 
 wick, he put his own secret marks on those eighteen 
 cases — marks that no eye but his own could detect. 
 By this time, though a very powerful man, he felt much 
 exhausted, and would gladly have snatched an hour's 
 repose. But consulting his watch by the light of his 
 lantern, he found the sun had just risen. He retired to 
 his place of concealment in the same cat-like way he 
 had come out of it — that is to say, he mounted on the 
 high cases, and then slipped down behind them, into the 
 angle of the wall. 
 
 As soon as the office opened, two sailors, whom he had 
 carefully instructed over night, came with a boat for the 
 cases; the warehouse was opened in consequence, but 
 they were informed that Wylie must be present at the 
 delivery. 
 
 " Oh, he won't be long," said they ; " told us he would 
 meet us here." 
 
 There was a considerable delay, and a good deal of 
 talking, and presently Wylie was at their backs, and put 
 in his word. 
 
 Seaton was greatly surprised at finding him there, and 
 asked him where he had sprung from. 
 _ " Me ! " said Wylie, jocosely, "why, I hailed from Davy 
 Jones's locker last." 
 
 "I never heard you come in," said Seaton, thought- 
 fully. 
 
 " Well, sir," replied Wylie, civilly, " a man does learn 
 to go like a cat on board ship, that is the truth. I came 
 
POUIi PLAY. 55 
 
 in at tlie door like my betters ; but I tbougbt I heard 
 you mention my name, so I made no noise. Well, here 
 I am, any way, and — Jack, how many trips can we 
 take these thundering chests in ? Let us see, eighteen 
 for the Proserpine, and forty for the Shannon. Is that 
 correct, sir?" 
 
 "Perfectly." 
 
 " Then, if you will deliver them, I'll check the deliv- 
 ery aboard the lighter there; and then we'll tow her 
 alongside the ships." 
 
 Seaton called up two more clerks, and sent one to the 
 boat, and one on board the barge. The barge was within 
 hail ; so the cases were checked as they passed out of the 
 store, and checked again at the small boat, and also on 
 board the lighter. When they were all cleared out, 
 Wylie gave Seaton his receipt for them, and, having a 
 steam-tug in attendance, towed the lighter alongside the 
 Shannon first. 
 
 Seaton carried the receipt to his employer. 
 
 " But, sir," said he, " is this regular for an officer of 
 the Proserpine to take the Shannon's cargo from us ? " 
 
 "No, it is not regular," said the old gentleman; and 
 he looked through a window, and summoned Mr. Hard- 
 castle. 
 
 Hardcastle explained that the Proserpine shipped the 
 gold, which was the more valuable consignment; and 
 that he saw no harm in the officer, who was so highly 
 trusted by the merchant (on this and on former occa- 
 sions), taking out a few tons of lead and copper to the 
 Shannon. 
 
 " Well, sir," said Seaton, " suppose I was to go out 
 and see the chests stowed in those vessels ? " 
 
 " I think you are making a fuss about nothing," said 
 Hardcastle. 
 
 Mr. White was of the same opinion, but, being too 
 
56 FOUL PI^T. 
 
 wise to check zeal and caution, told Seaton lie might go 
 for his own satisfaction. 
 
 Seaton, with some difficulty, got a little hoat and 
 pulled across the harbor. He found the Shannon had 
 shipped all the chests marked with her name ; and the 
 captain and mate of the Proserpine were beginning to 
 ship theirs. He paddled under the Proserpine's stern. 
 
 Captain Hudson, a rough salt, sang out, and asked him 
 roughly what he wanted there. 
 
 " Oh, it is all right," said the mate ; " he is come for 
 your receipt and Hewitt's. Be smart, now, men ; two on 
 board, sixteen to come." 
 
 Seaton saw the chests marked Proserpine stowed in 
 the Proserpine, and went ashore with Captain Hewitt's 
 receipt for forty cases on board the Shannon, and Cap- 
 tain Hudson's of eighteen on board the Proserpine. 
 
 As he landed he met Lloyds' agent, and told him what 
 a valuable freight he had just shipped. That gentleman 
 merely remarked that both ships were underwritten in 
 Sydney by the owners ; but the freight was insured in 
 London, no doubt. 
 
 There was still something about this business Seaton 
 did not quite like ; perhaps it was in the haste of the 
 shipments, or in the manner of the mate. At all events, 
 it was too slight and subtle to be communicated to others 
 with any hope of convincing them ; and, moreover, Sea- 
 ton could not but own to himself that he hated Wardlaw, 
 and was, perhaps, no fair judge of his acts, and even of 
 the acts of his servants. 
 
 And soon a blow fell that drove the matter out of his 
 head and his heart. Miss Helen EoUeston called at the 
 office, and, standing within a few feet of him, handed 
 Hardcastle a letter from Arthur Wardlaw, directing that 
 the ladies' cabin on board the Shannon should be placed 
 at her disposal. 
 
FOUL PLAT. 57 
 
 Hardcastle bowed low to Beauty and Station, and 
 promised her the best possible accommodation on board 
 the Shannon, bound for England next week. 
 
 As she retired, she cast one quiet glance round the 
 office in search of Seaton's beard. But he had reduced 
 its admired luxuriance, and trimmed it to a narrow mer- 
 cantile point. She did not know his other features from 
 Adam, and little thought that young man, bent double 
 over his paper, was her preserver and prot&g^; still less 
 that he was at this moment cold as ice, and quivering 
 with misery from head to foot, because her own lips had 
 just told him she was going to England in the Shannon. 
 
 Heart-broken, but still loving nobly, Seaton dragged 
 himself down to the harbor, and went slowly on board 
 the Shannon to secure Miss Kolleston every comfort. 
 
 Then, sick at heart as he was, he made inquiries into 
 the condition of the vessel which was to be trusted with 
 so precious a freight ; and the old boatman who was row- 
 ing him, hearing him make these inquiries, told him he 
 himself was always about, and had noticed the Shannon's 
 pumps were going every blessed night. 
 
 Seaton carried this intelligence directly to Lloyds' 
 agent ; he overhauled the ship, and ordered her into the 
 graving dock for repairs. 
 
 Then Seaton, for White and Co., wrote to Miss EoUes- 
 ton that the Shannon was not seaworthy, and could not 
 sail for a month, at the least. 
 
 The lady simply acknowledged Messrs. White's com- 
 mimication, and Seaton breathed again. 
 
 Wardlaw had made Miss EoUeston promise him faith- 
 fully to sail that month in his ship the Shannon. Now 
 she was a slave to her word, and constant of purpose ; 
 so, when she found she could not sail in the Shannon, 
 she called again on Messrs. White, and took her passage 
 
58 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 in the Proserpine. The essential thing to her mind was 
 to sail when she had promised, and to go in a ship that 
 belonged to her lover. 
 
 The Proserpine was to sail in ten days. 
 
 Seaton inquired into the state of the Proserpine. She 
 was a good, sound vessel, and there was no excuse for 
 detaining her. 
 
 Then he wrestled long and hard with the selfish part 
 of his great love. Instead of tiiming sullen, he set 
 himself to carry out Helen EoUeston's wilL He went 
 on board the Proserpine and chose her the best stem 
 cabin. 
 
 General Eolleston had ordered Helen's cabin to be 
 furnished, and the agent had put in the usual things, 
 such as standing bedstead with drawers beneath, chest of 
 drawers, small table, two chairs, wash-stand, looking- 
 glass, and swinging lamp. 
 
 But Seaton made several visits to the ship, and effected 
 the following arrangements at his own cost. He pro- 
 vided a neat cocoarmat for her cabin deck for comfort 
 and foot-hold ; he unshipped the regular six-paned stern 
 windows, and put in single-pane plate glass ; he fitted 
 Venetian blinds, and hung two little rose-colored curtains 
 to each of the windows ; all so arranged as to be easily 
 removed in case it should be necessary to ship dead 
 lights in heavy weather. He glazed the door leading to 
 her bath-room and quarter gallery with plate glass ; he 
 provided a light, easy chair, slung and fitted with grum- 
 mets, to be hung on hooks screwed into the beams in the 
 midship of the cabin. On this Helen could sit and read, 
 and so become insensible to the motion of the ship. He 
 fitted a small case of books, having a batten, secured 
 from falling out by a button, which could be raised when 
 a book might be wanted ; he fixed a strike-bell in her 
 maid's cabin, communicating with two strikers in Helen's 
 
FOtJIi PLAY. 69 
 
 cabin ; he selected books, taking care that the voyages 
 and travels were prosperous ones. No " Seaman's Re- 
 corder," "Life-boat Journal," or "Shipwrecks and Dis- 
 asters in the British Navy." 
 
 Her cabin was the after-cabin on the starboard side : 
 was entered through the cuddy; had a door communi- 
 cating with the quarter gallery ; two stern windows, and 
 a dead-eye on deck. The maid's cabin was the port 
 after-cabin ; doors opened into cuddy and quarter gal- 
 lery. And a fine trouble Miss Eolleston had to get a 
 maid to accompany her; but at last a young woman 
 offered to go with her for high wages, demurely suppress- 
 ing the fact that she had just married one of the sailors, 
 and would have gladly gone for nothing. Her name was 
 Jane Holt, and her husband's Michael Donovan. 
 
 In one of Seaton's visits to the Proserpine he detected 
 the mate and the captain talking together, and looking 
 at him with unfriendly eyes — scowling at him would 
 hardly be too strong a word. 
 
 However, he was in no state of mind to care much 
 how two animals in blue jackets received his acts of self- 
 martyrdom. He was there to do the last kind ofGLces of 
 despairing love for the angel that had crossed his dark path, 
 and illumined it for a moment, to leave it now forever. 
 
 At last the fatal evening came ; her last in Sydney. 
 
 Then Seaton's fortitude, sustained no longer by the 
 feverish stimulus of doing kindly acts for her, began to 
 give way, and he desponded deeply. 
 
 At nine in the evening he crept upon General RoUes- 
 ton's lawn, where he had first seen her. He sat down in 
 sullen despair, upon the very spot. 
 
 Then he came nearer the house. There was a lamp in 
 the dining-room ; he looked in and saw her. 
 
 She was seated at her father's knee, looking up at him 
 fondly ; her hand was in his. The tears were in their 
 
60 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 eyes : she had no mother ; he no son ; they loved one 
 another devotedly. This, their tender gesture, and their 
 sad silence, spoke volumes to any one that had known 
 sorrow. Poor Seaton sat down on the dewy grass out- 
 side, and wept, because she was weeping. 
 
 Her father sent her to bed early. Seaton watched, as 
 he had often done before, till her light went out ; and 
 then he flung himself on the wet grass, and stared at the 
 sky in utter misery. 
 
 The mind is often clearest in the middle of the night ; 
 and all of a sudden he saw, as if written on the -sky, 
 that she was going to England expressly to marry Arthur 
 Wardlaw. 
 
 At this revelation he started up, stung with hate as 
 well as love, and his tortured mind rebelled furiously. 
 He repeated his vow that this should never be ; and soon 
 a scheme came into his head to prevent it ; but it was a 
 project so wild and dangerous, that, even as his heated 
 brain hatched it, his cooler judgment said, "^^Ji niad- 
 man, fly ! or this love will destroy you ! " 
 
 He listened to the voice of reason, and in another 
 minute he was out of the premises. He fluttered to his 
 lodgings. 
 
 When he got there he could not go in; he turned 
 and fluttered about the streets, not knowing or caring 
 whither ; his mind was in a whirl ; and, what with his 
 bodily fever, and his boiling heart, passion began to 
 overpower reason, that had held out so gallantly till 
 now. He found himself at the harbor, staring with 
 wild and bloodshot eyes at the Proserpine, he, who an 
 hour ago, had seen that he had but one thing to do — to 
 try and forget young Wardlaw's bride. He groaned 
 aloud and ran wildly back into the town. He hurried 
 up and down one narrow street, raging inwardly, like 
 some wild beast in its den. 
 
FOUL PLAT. 61 
 
 By and by his mood changed, and he hung round a 
 lamp-post, and fell to moaning and lamenting his hard 
 fate, and hers. 
 
 A policeman came up, took him for a maudlin drunkard, 
 and half-advised, half-admonished him, to go home. 
 
 At that he gave a sort of fierce, despairing snarl, and 
 ran into the next street, to be alone. 
 
 In this street he found a shop open, and lighted, 
 though it was but five o'clock in the morning. It was a 
 barber's, whose customers were working-people. Haib- 
 
 CUTTING, SIXPENCE. EaST SHAVING, THREEPENCE. HoT 
 COFFEE, FOUKPENCE THE CUP. Scatou's CyC fcU UpOn 
 
 this shop. He looked at it fixedly a moment from the 
 opposite side of the way, and then hurried on. 
 
 He turned suddenly and came back. He crossed the 
 road and entered the shop. The barber was leaning 
 over the stove, removing a can of boiling water from 
 the fire to the hob. He turned at the sound of Seaton's 
 step, and revealed an ugly countenance, rendered sinister 
 by a squint. 
 
 Seaton dropped into a chair, and said, "I want my 
 beard taken off." 
 
 The man looked at him, if it could be called looking 
 at him, and said dryly, " Oh, do ye ? How much am I 
 to have for that job ? " 
 
 " You know your own charge." 
 
 " Of course I do ; threepence a chin." 
 
 " Very welL Be quick, then." 
 
 "Stop a bit: that is my charge to working folk. I 
 must have something more off you." 
 
 " Very weU, man, FU pay you double." 
 
 " My price to you is ten shillings." 
 
 "Why, what is that for?" asked Seaton, in some 
 alarm ; he thought, in his confusion, the man must have 
 read his heart. 
 
62 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 "I'll tell ye why," said the squinting barber. "No, I 
 won't ; I'll show ye." He brought a small mirror, and 
 suddenly clapped it before Seaton's eyes. Seaton started 
 at his own image ; wild, ghastly, and the eyes so blood- 
 shot. The barber chuckled. This start was an extorted 
 compliment to his own sagacity. " Wow wasn't I right ?" 
 said he ; " did I ought to take the beard off such a mug 
 as that — for less than ten shillings ? " 
 
 " I see," groaned Seaton ; " you think I have committed 
 some crime. One man sees me weeping with misery; 
 he calls me a drunkard : another sees me pale with the 
 anguish of my breaking heart; he calls me a felon. 
 May God's curse light on him and you, and all man- 
 kind ! " 
 
 " All right," said the squinting barber, apathetically ; 
 " my price is ten bob, whether or no." 
 
 Seaton felt in his pockets. " I have not got the money 
 about me," said he. 
 
 " Oh, I'm not particular ; leave your watch." 
 
 Seaton handed this squinting vampire his watch 
 without another word, and let his head fall upon his 
 breast. 
 
 The barber cut his beard close with the scissors, and 
 made trivial remarks from time to time ; but received no 
 reply. 
 
 At last, extortion having put him in a good humor, he 
 said, " Don't be so down-hearted, my lad. You are not 
 the first that has got into trouble, and had to change 
 faces." 
 
 Seaton vouchsafed no reply. 
 
 The barber shaved him clean, and was astonished at 
 the change, and congratulated him. " Nobody will ever 
 know you," said he ; " and I'll tell you why ; your mouth 
 it is inclined to turn up a little; now a mustache it 
 bends down, and that alters such a mouth as yours 
 
FOTTL PLAY. 63 
 
 entirely. But, I'll tell you what, taking off this beard 
 shows me something : you are a gentleman. Make it a 
 sovereign, sir." 
 
 Seaton staggered out of the place without a word. 
 
 " Sulky, eh ? " muttered the barber. He gathered up 
 some of the long hair he had cut off Seaton's chin with 
 his scissors, admired it, and put it away in paper. 
 
 While thus employed, a regular customer looked in 
 for his cup of coffee. It was the policeman who had 
 taken Seaton for a convivial soul. 
 
64 FOUL PliAY. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Gbnebai. Eolleston's seryants made several trips to 
 the Proserpine, carrying boxes, etc. 
 
 But Helen herself clung to the house till the last 
 moment. " Oh, papa ! " she cried, " I need all my reso- 
 lution, all my good faith, to keep my word with Arthur, 
 and leave you. Why, why did I promise ? Why am I 
 such a slave to my word ? " 
 
 " Because," said the old General, with a voice not so 
 firm as usual, " I have always told you that a lady is not 
 to be inferior to a gentleman in any virtue, except 
 courage. I've heard my mother say so often ; and I've 
 taught it to my Helen. And, my girl, where would be 
 the merit of keeping our word, if we only kept it when 
 it cost us nothing ! " 
 
 He promised to come after, in three months at far- 
 thest; and the brave girl dried her tears, as well as 
 she could, not to add to the sadness he fought against 
 as gallantly as he had often fought the enemies of his 
 coimtry. 
 
 The Proserpine was to sail at two o'clock ; at a little 
 before one, a gentleman boarded her, and informed the 
 captain that he was a missionary, the Rev. John Hazel, 
 returning home, after a fever; and wished to take a 
 berth in the Proserpine. 
 
 The mate looked him full in the face ; and then told 
 him there was very little accommodation for passengers, 
 and it had all been secured by White and Co., for a 
 young lady and her servants. 
 
 Mr. Hazel replied that his means were small, and 
 
FOUL PLAY. 65 
 
 moderate accommodation would serve him ; but he must 
 go to England without delay. 
 
 Captain Hudson put in his gracious word : " Then jump 
 off the jetty at high tide and swim there ; no room for 
 black coats in my ship." 
 
 Mr. Hazel looked from one to the other piteously. 
 " Show me some mercy, gentlemen ; my very life depends 
 on it." 
 
 "Very sorry, sir," said the mate ; "but it is impossible. 
 There's the Shannon, you can go in her." 
 
 " But she is under repairs ; so I am told." 
 
 " Well, there are a hundred and fifty carpenters on to 
 her ; and she will come out of port in our wake." 
 
 "Now, sir," said Hudson, roughly; "bundle down the 
 ship's side again, if you please ; this is a busy time. 
 Hy ! — rig the whip ; here's the lady coming off to us." 
 
 The missionary heaved a deep sigh, and went down 
 into the boat that had brought him. But he was no 
 sooner seated than he ordered the boatmen, somewhat 
 peremptorily, to pull ashore as fast as they could row. 
 His boat met the Eollestons, father and daughter, coming 
 out, and he turned his pale face, and eyed them as he 
 passed. Helen EoUeston was struck with that sorrowful 
 countenance, and, when the boats had passed each other, 
 she whispered her father, "That poor clergyman has 
 just left the ship." She made sure he had been taking 
 leave of some beloved one, bound for England. General 
 Eolleston looked round, but the wan face was no longer 
 visible. 
 
 They were soon on board, and received with great 
 obsequiousness. Helen was shown her cabin, and, 
 observing the minute and zealous care that had been 
 taken of her comfort, she said, "Somebody who loves 
 me has been here," and turned her brimming eyes on 
 her father. He looked a little puzzled, and said nothing. 
 
66 FOUL PLAY, 
 
 Father and daughter were then left alone in the cabin, 
 till the ship began to heave her anchor (she lay just at 
 the mouth of the harbor), and then the boatswain was 
 sent to give General EoUeston warning. Helen came 
 up with him, pale and distressed. They exchanged a 
 last embrace, and General EoUeston went down the 
 ship's side. Helen hung over the bulwarks and waved 
 her last adieu, though she could hardly see him for her 
 tears. 
 
 At this moment a four-oared boat swept alongside ; 
 and Mr. Hazel Came on board again. He presented 
 Hudson a written order to give the Rev. John Hazel 
 a passage in the small berth abreast the main hatches. 
 It was signed for "White and Co., James Seaton;" 
 and was indorsed with a stamped acknowledgment of 
 the passage money, twenty-seven pounds. 
 
 Hudson and Wylie, the mate, put their heads together 
 over this. The missionary saw them consulting, and 
 told them he had mentioned their mysterious conduct 
 to Messrs. White and Co., and that Mr. Seaton had 
 promised to stop the ship if their authority was resisted. 
 "And I have paid my passage money, and will not be 
 turned out now except by force," said the reverend 
 gentleman, quietly. 
 
 Wylie's head was turned away from Mr. Hazel's, and 
 on its profile a most gloomy, vindictive look, so much 
 so, that Mr. Hazel was startled when the man turned 
 his front face to him with a jolly, genial air, and said, 
 " Well, sir, the truth is, we seamen don't want passengers 
 aboard ships of this class : they get in our way whenever 
 it blows a capful. However, since you are here, make 
 yourself as comfortable as you can." 
 
 " There, that is enough palaver," said the captain, in 
 his offensive way. "Hoist the parson's traps aboard, 
 and sheer off, you shore boat ! Anchor's apeak." 
 
FOTTL PLAT. 67 
 
 H6 then gave Ms orders in stentorian roars; the 
 anchor was hove up, catted, and fished; one sail went 
 up after another, the Proserpine's head came round, and 
 away she bore for England with a fair wind. 
 
 General EoUeston went slowly and heavily home, and 
 often turned his head and looked wistfully at the ship, 
 putting out wing upon wing, and carrying off his child 
 like a tiny prey. 
 
 To change the comparison, it was only a tender vine 
 detached from a great sturdy elm: yet the tree, thus 
 relieved of its delicate encumbrance, felt bare; and a 
 soft thing was gone, that, seeking protection, had be- 
 stowed warmth; had nestled and curled between the 
 world's cold wind and that stalwart stem. 
 
 As soon as he got home he lighted a cigar, and set to 
 work to console himself by reflecting that it was but a 
 temporary parting, since he had virtually resigned his 
 post, and was only waiting in Sydney till he should have 
 handed his papers in order over to his successor, and 
 settled one or two private matters that could not take 
 three months. 
 
 When he had smoked his cigar, and reasoned away his 
 sense of desolation. Nature put out her hand, and took 
 him by the breast, and drew him gently up-stairs to take 
 a look at his beloved daughter's bedroom, by way of 
 seeing the last of her. 
 
 The room had one window looking north, and another 
 west : the latter commanded a view of the bay. General 
 EoUeston looked down at the floor, littered with odds 
 and ends — the dead leaves of dress that fall about a 
 lady in the great process of packing — and then gazed 
 through the window at the flying Proserpine. 
 
 He sighed, and lighted another cigar. Before he had 
 half finished it, he stooped down and took up a little 
 
68 FOTJL PLAY. 
 
 bow of ribbon that lay on the ground, and put it quietly 
 in his bosom. In this act he was surprised by Sarah 
 Wilson, who had come up to sweep all such waifs and 
 strays into her own box. "La, sir," said she, rather 
 crossly, " why didn't you tell me, and I'd have tidied the 
 room : it is all hugger-mugger, with miss arleaving." 
 
 And with this she went to tidying the room. General 
 EoUeston's eye followed her movements, and he observed 
 amongst the litter a white handkerchief stained with 
 blood. "What!" said he, "has she had an accident; 
 cut her finger ? " 
 
 "No, sir," said Wilson, and with a certain air of 
 restraint that made him uneasy. 
 
 He examined the girl's face narrowly, and then the 
 handkerchief; the blood was of a pale red color. 
 EoUeston had seen a similarly stained handkerchief 
 fifteen years before, in the hands of his young wife a 
 few months before she died of consumption. 
 
 "Sarah," faltered Rolleston, "in God's name, why was 
 I never told of this ? " 
 
 "Indeed, sir," said Wilson, eagerly, "you must not 
 blame me, sir. It was as much as my place was worth 
 to tell you. Miss is a young lady that will be obeyed ; 
 and she give me strict orders not to let you know : but 
 she is gone now ; and I always thought it was a pity she 
 kept it so dark ; but as I was saying, sir, she would be 
 obeyed." 
 
 "Kept what so dark?" 
 
 "Why, sir, her spitting of blood at times : and turning 
 so thin by what she used to be, poor dear young lady." 
 
 General EoUeston groaned aloud. He said no more, 
 but kept looking bewildered and helpless, first at the 
 handkerchief and then at the Proserpine that was carry- 
 ing Helen away, perhaps forever : and his iron features 
 worked with cruel distress ; anguish so mute and male, 
 
FOTJIi PLAT. 69 
 
 that the woman Wilson, though not good for much, sat 
 down and shed genuine tears of pity. 
 
 But he summoned all his fortitude, told Wilson he 
 could not say she was to blame, she had but obeyed her 
 mistress's orders; and we must all obey orders. "But 
 now," said he, " it is me you ought to obey : tell me, 
 does any doctor attend her ? " 
 
 " None ever comes here, sir. But, one day, she let 
 fall that she went to Dr. Valentine, him that has the 
 name for disorders of the chest." 
 
 In a very few minutes General Rolleston was at Dr. 
 Valentine's house, and asked him bluntly what was the 
 matter with his daughter. 
 
 " Disease of the lungs," said the doctor simply. 
 
 The unhappy father then begged the doctor to give 
 him his real opinion as to the degree of danger; and 
 Dr. Valentine told him, with some feeling, that the case 
 was not desperate, but was certainly alarming. 
 
 Remonstrated with for letting the girl undertake a 
 sea-voyage, he replied rather evasively at first ; that the 
 air of Australia disagreed with his patient, and a sea- 
 voyage was more likely to do her good than harm. 
 
 General Rolleston pressed the doctor's hand, and went 
 away without another word. 
 
 Only he hurried his matters of business ; and took his 
 passage in the Shannon. 
 
 It was in something of a warrior's spirit that he pre- 
 pared to follow his daughter and protect her ; but often 
 he sighed at the invisible, insidious nature of the foe, 
 and wished it could have been a fair fight of bullets and 
 bayonets, and his own the life at stake. 
 
 The Shannon was soon ready for sea. 
 
 Wardlaw was at home before this, with his hands full 
 of business ; and it is time the reader should be let into 
 
70 FOUIi PLAT. 
 
 one secret at least, which this merchant had contrived to 
 conceal from the City of London, and from his own 
 father, and from every human creature, except one poor, 
 simple, devoted soul, called Michael Penfold. 
 
 There are men, who seem stupid, yet generally go 
 right; there are also clever men, who appear to have 
 the art of blundering wisely : " sapienter descendunt in 
 inf ernum," as the ancients have it ; and some of these 
 latter will even lie on their backs, after a fall, and lift 
 up their voices, and prove to you that in the nature of 
 things they ought to have gone up, and their being 
 down is monstrous ; illusory. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw was not quite so clever as all that ; 
 but still he misconducted the business of the firm with 
 perfect ability from the first month he entered on it. 
 Like those ambitious railways, which ruin a goodly 
 trunk with excess of branches, not to say twigs, he set 
 to work extending, and extending, and sent the sap of 
 the healthy old concern a-fiying to the ends of the 
 earth. 
 
 He was not only too ambitious, and not cool enough ; 
 he was also unlucky, or under a curse, or something; 
 for things, well conceived, broke down, in his hands, 
 under petty accidents. And, besides, his new corre- 
 spondents and agents hit him cruelly hard. Then what 
 did he? Why shot good money after bad, and lost 
 both. He could not retrench, for his game was conceal- 
 ment; his father was kept in the dark, and drew his 
 four thousand a year, as usual, and, upon any hesitation 
 in that respect, would have called in an accountant and 
 wound up the concern. But this tax upon the receipts, 
 though inconvenient, was a trifle compared with the 
 series of heavy engagements that were impending. The 
 future was so black, that Wardlaw junior was sore 
 tempted to realize twenty thousand pounds, which a 
 
FOTTIi PLAY. 71 
 
 man in his position could easily do, and fly the country. 
 But this would have been to give up Helen RoUeston ; 
 and he loved her too well. His brain was naturally 
 subtle and fertile in expedients; so he brought all its 
 powers to bear on a double problem: how to marry 
 Helen ; and restore the concern he had mismanaged to 
 its former state. For this a large sum of money was 
 needed, not less than ninety thousand pounds. 
 
 The difficulties were great; but he entered on this 
 project with two advantages. In the first place, he 
 enjoyed excellent credit; in the second, he was not 
 disposed to be scrupulous. He had been cheated several 
 times; and nothing undermines feeble rectitude more 
 than that. Such a man as Wardlaw is apt to establish a 
 sort of account current with humanity. 
 
 "Several fellow-creatures have cheated me. Well, I 
 must get as much back, by hook or by crook, from 
 several fellow-creatures." 
 
 After much hard thought, he conceived his double 
 master-stroke : and it was to execute this he went out to 
 Australia. 
 
 We have seen that he persuaded Helen RoUeston to 
 come to England and be married; but, as to the other 
 part of his project, that is a matter for the reader to 
 watch, as it develops itself. 
 
 His first act of business, on reaching England, was to 
 insure the freights of the Proserpine and the Shannon. 
 
 He sent Michael Penfold to Lloyds', with the requisite 
 vouchers, including the receipts of the gold merchants. 
 Penfold easily insured the Shannon, whose freight was 
 valued at only six thousand pounds. The Proserpine, 
 with her cargo, and a hundred and thirty thousand 
 pounds of specie to boot, was another matter. Some 
 underwriters had an objection to specie, being subject to 
 theft as well as shipwreck ; other underwriters, applied 
 
72 fouij play. 
 
 to by Penfold, acquiesced; others called on Wardlaw 
 himself, to ask a few questions, and lie replied to them 
 courteously, but with a certain nonchalance, treating it 
 as an affair which might be big to them, but was not of 
 particular importance to a merchant doing business on 
 his scale. 
 
 To one underwriter, Condell, with whom he was on 
 somewhat intimate terms, he said, "I wish I could 
 insure the Shannon, at her value; but that is impossi- 
 ble : the City of London could not do it. The Proserpine 
 brings me some cases of specie, but my true treasure is 
 on board the Shannon. She carries my bride, sir." 
 
 " Oh, indeed. Miss EoUeston ? " 
 
 " Ah, I remember ; you have seen her. Then you will 
 not be surprised at a proposal I shall make you. Under- 
 write the Shannon a million pounds, to be paid by you 
 if harm befalls my Helen. You need not look so 
 astonished ; I was only joking ; you gentlemen deal with 
 none but substantial values ; and, as for me, a million 
 would no more compensate me for losing her, than for 
 losing my own life." 
 
 The tears were in his pale eyes as he said these words ; 
 and Mr. Condell eyed him with sympathy. But he soon 
 recovered himself, and was the man of business again. 
 " Oh, the specie on board the Proserpine ? Well, I was 
 in Australia, you know, and bought that specie myself 
 of the merchants whose names are attached to the 
 receipts. I deposited the cases with White and Co., 
 at Sydney. Penfold will show you the receipt. I 
 instructed Joseph Wylie, mate of the Proserpine, and a 
 trustworthy person, to see them stowed away in the 
 Proserpine, by White and Co. Hudson is a good sea- 
 man; and the Proserpine, a new ship, built by Mare. 
 We have nothing to fear but the ordinary perils of the 
 sea." 
 
FOirii PLAT. 73 
 
 " So one would think," said Mr. Condell, and took his 
 leave ; but, at the door, he hesitated, and then, looking 
 down a little sheepishly, said, "Mr. Wardlaw, may I 
 offer you a piece of advice ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Then, double the insurance on the Shannon, if you 
 can." 
 
 With these words he slipped out, evidently to avoid 
 questions he did not intend to answer. 
 
 Wardlaw stared after him, stupidly at first, and then 
 stood up and put his hand to his head in a sort of amaze- 
 ment. Then he sat down again, ashy pale, and with the 
 dew on his forehead, and muttered faintly, " Double — 
 the insurance — of the — Shannon ! " 
 
 Men who walked in crooked paths are very subject to 
 such surprises ; doomed, like Ahab, to be pierced, through 
 the joints of their armor, by random shafts ; by words 
 uttered in one sense, but conscience interprets them in 
 another. 
 
 It took a good many underwriters to insure the 
 Proserpine's freight; but the business was done at 
 last. 
 
 Then Wardlaw, who had feigned insouciance so admir- 
 ably in that part of his interview with Condell, went, 
 without losing an hour, and raised a large sum of money 
 on the insured freight, to meet the bills that were coming 
 due for the gold (for he had paid for most of it in paper 
 at short dates), and also other bills that were approach- 
 ing maturity. This done, he breathed again, safe for a 
 month or two from everything short of a general panic, 
 and full of hope from his coming master-stroke. But 
 two months soon pass when a man has a flock of kites 
 in the air. Pass ? They fly. So now he looked out 
 anxiously for his Australian ships ; and went to Lloyds' 
 
74 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 every day to hear if either had been seen, or heard of 
 by steamers, or by faster sailing vessels than themselves. 
 
 And, though Condell had underwritten the Proserpine 
 to the tune of eight thousand pounds, yet still his myste- 
 rious words rang strangely in the merchant's ears and 
 made him so uneasy, that he employed a discreet person 
 to sound Condell as to what he meant by " double the 
 insurance of the Shannon." 
 
 It turned out to be the simplest affair in the world ; 
 Condell had secret information that the Shannon was in 
 bad repair ; so he had advised his friend to insure her 
 heavily. For the same reason, he declined to underwrite 
 her freight himself. 
 
 With respect to those ships, our readers already know 
 two things, of which Wardlaw himself, nota bene, had 
 no idea; namely, that the Shannon had sailed last, 
 instead of first, and that Miss EoUeston was not on 
 board of her, but in the Proserpine, two thousand miles 
 ahead. 
 
 To that, your superior knowledge, we, posters of the 
 sea and land, are about to make a large addition, and 
 relate things strange, but true. While that anxious and 
 plotting merchant strains his eyes seaward, trying hard 
 to read the future, we carry you, in a moment of time, 
 across the Pacific, and board the leading vessel, the good 
 ship Proserpine, homeward bound. 
 
 The ship left Sydney with a fair wind, but soon 
 encountered adverse weather, and made slow progress, 
 being close hauled, which was her worst point oi sailing. 
 She pitched a good deal, and that had a very ill effect 
 on Miss Rolleston. She was not searsick, but thoroughly 
 out of sorts ; and, in one week, became perceptibly paler 
 and thinner than when she started. 
 
 The young clergyman, Mr. Hazel, watched her with 
 respectful anxiety, and this did not escape her feminine 
 
FOXTL PIAY. 76 
 
 observation. She noted quietly that those dark eyes of 
 his followed her with a mournful tenderness, but with- 
 drew their gaze when she looked at him. Clearly, he 
 was interested in her, but had no desire to intrude upon 
 her attention. He would bring up the squabs for her, 
 and some of his own wraps, when she stayed on deck, and 
 was prompt with his arm when the vessel lurched ; and 
 showed her those other little attentions, which are called 
 for on board ship ; but without a word. Yet, when she 
 thanked him in the simplest and shortest way, his great 
 eyes flashed with pleasure, and the color mounted to his 
 very temples. 
 
 Engaged young ladies are, for various reasons, more 
 sociable with the other sex, than those who are still on 
 the universal mock-defensive; a ship, like a distant 
 country, thaws even English reserve, and women in 
 general are disposed to admit ecclesiastics to certain 
 privileges. No wonder then that Miss RoUeston, after 
 a few days, met Mr. Hazel half-way; and they made 
 acquaintance on board the Proserpine ; in monosyllables 
 at first ; but, the ice once fairly broken, the intercourse 
 of mind became rather rapid. 
 
 At first it was a mere intellectual exchange, but one 
 very agreeable to Miss Eolleston; for a fine memory, 
 and omnivorous reading from his very boyhood, with 
 the habit of taking notes, and reviewing them, had 
 made Mr. Hazel a walking dictionary, and a walking 
 essayist if required. 
 
 But, when it came to something, which most of all the 
 young lady had hoped from this temporary acquaintance, 
 viz., religious instruction, she found him indeed as learned 
 on that as on otb6r topics, but cold, and devoid of unction ; 
 so much so, that one day she said to him, " I can hardly 
 believe you have ever been a missionary." But at that 
 he seemed so distressed, that she was sorry for him, and 
 
76 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 said, sweetly, "Excuse me, Mr. Hazel, my remark was 
 in rather bad taste, I fear." 
 
 "Not at all," said he. "Of course I am unfit for 
 missionary work, or I should not be here." 
 
 Miss RoUeston took a good look at him, but said 
 nothing. Howevei", his reply, and her perusal of his 
 countenance, satisfied her that he was a man with very 
 little petty vanity and petty irritability. 
 
 Day succeeded day, with a monotony which had been 
 unendurable to Helen but for the variety she found in 
 her fellow-passenger. The true modesty of learning 
 made his mind, like a library, mute until consulted. 
 Shallow streams are garrulous. She had studied botany ; 
 she observed that he was studious to conceal that he was 
 her master in that science. A conversation between him 
 and the ship's surgeon, drew from the latter an expres- 
 sion of surprise to find the clergyman's knowledge of 
 chemistry exceeded his own. Helen did not understand 
 a word of the discussion, but she read the faces of the 
 two men, and saw which was out of his depth. 
 
 One morning, after ten days' murky weather, the sky 
 suddenly cleared, and a rare opportunity occurred to 
 take an observation. Hazel suggested to Wylie, the 
 mate, the propriety of taking advantage of the moment, 
 as the fog-bank, out of which they had just emerged, 
 would soon envelop them again, and they had not more 
 than an hour or so of such weather available. The man 
 gave a shuffling answer. So Hazel sought the captain 
 in his cabin. He found him in bed. He was dead 
 drunk. 
 
 On a shelf lay the instruments. These Hazel took, 
 and then looked round for the chronometers. They 
 were safely locked in their cases. 
 
 He carried the instruments on deck, together with a 
 book of tables^ and quietly began to make preparations, 
 
FOUL PLAY. 77 
 
 at which Wylie, arresting his walk, gazed with utter 
 astonishment. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Wylie, I want the key of the chronometer 
 cases." 
 
 " Here is a chronometer, Mr. Hazel," said Helen, very 
 innocently, " if that is all you want." 
 
 Hazel smiled, and explained that a ship's clock is 
 made to keep the most exact time; that he did not 
 require the time of the spot where they were, but Green- 
 wich time. 
 
 He took the watch, however. It was a large one for a 
 lady to carry; but it was one of Frodsham's master- 
 pieces — for was it not Arthur Wardlaw's gift ? 
 
 " "Why, Miss Eolleston," said he, " this watch must be 
 two hours slow. It marks ten o'clock ; it is now nearly 
 midday. Ah, I see," he' added, with a smile, "you have 
 wound it regularly every day ; but you have forgotten to 
 set it daily. Indeed, you may be right ; it would be a 
 useless trouble, since we change our longitude hourly. 
 Well, let us presume that this watch shows the exact 
 time at Sydney, as I presume it does ; I can work the 
 ship's reckoning from that meridian, instead of that of 
 Greenwich." 
 
 And he set about doing it. He looked up, and saw 
 that the crew were assembling as near the quarter-deck 
 as discipline permitted. 
 
 "Mr. Wylie, would you kindly obtain a chart for 
 me?" 
 
 The mate betrayed some curiosity at first; but now, 
 when he perceived that the crew had become witnesses 
 of the captain's incapacity to fulfil this important duty, 
 he answered doggedly, — 
 
 " I think, sir, you took a great liberty ia overhauling 
 the skipper's books and tackle." 
 
 "We have not had an observation for ten days. 
 
78 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Surely, it is necessary to find tlie position of the ship," 
 remonstrated Hazel. 
 
 " He'll make you find yours, when he comes on deck," 
 muttered the man. 
 
 Hazel stepped up to him, and whispered, — 
 
 "The captain is drunk, senselessly drunk. Do not 
 compel me to remember the fact, and report it at Lloyds', 
 and to the owners, when we arrive in England." 
 
 Wylie gazed stupidly for a moment into Hazel's face, 
 and then shufled off, and disappeared into the captain's 
 cabin. In a few moments he emerged with the chro- 
 nometers and the charts, bearing also the thanks of 
 Captain Hudson, who was down with bilious fever. 
 Hazel received the message and the instruments without 
 remark. He verified Miss RoUeston's chronometer, and, 
 allowing for difference of time, found it to be accurate. 
 He returned it to her, and proceeded to work on the 
 chart. The men looked on ; so did Wylie. After a few 
 moments Hazel read as follows: West longitude, 146° 
 63' 18". South latitude, 35° 24'. The Island of Oparo 
 and the Four Crowns, distant 420 miles on the N.N.E. 
 The white banks of fog prevailing on the south seem to 
 indicate ice-floes in that quarter ; Barometer ; Ther- 
 mometer in the sea as compared with yesterday, . 
 
 " There," said he, handing the paper to Wylie, " I leave 
 these to be filled in by the captain. I presume he keeps 
 some such record in his log." 
 
 Wylie removed the instruments, the men retired to the 
 forecastle, and Miss Eolleston fixed her large soft eyes on 
 the young clergyman with the undisguised admiration a 
 woman is apt to feel for what she does not understand. 
 
 One day they were discoursing of gratitude ; and Mr. 
 Hazel said he had a poor opinion of those persons, who 
 speak of "the burden of gratitude," and make a fuss 
 about being " laid under an obligation." 
 
FOTJL PLAY. 79 
 
 " As for me," said he, " I have owed Sucli a debt, and 
 found the sense of it very sweet." 
 
 "But perhaps you were always hoping to make a 
 return," said Helen. 
 
 " That I was : hoping against hope." 
 
 " Do you think people are grateful, in general ? " 
 
 "No, Miss EoUeston, I do not." 
 
 "Well, I think they are. To me, at least. Why, I 
 have experienced gratitude, even in a convict. It was a 
 poor man, who had been transported, for something or 
 other, and he begged papa to take him for his gardener. 
 Papa did, and he was so grateful that, do you know, he 
 suspected our house was to be robbed, and he actually 
 watched in the garden night after night : and, what do 
 you think ? the house was attacked by a whole gang ; 
 but poor Mr. Seaton confronted them and shot one, and 
 was wounded cruelly ; but he beat them off for us ; and 
 was not that gratitude ? " 
 
 While she was speaking so earnestly Mr. Hazel's 
 blood seemed to run through his veins like heavenly 
 fire, but he said nothing, and the lady resumed, with 
 gentle fervor: "Well, we got him a clerk's place in a 
 shipping-of&ce, and heard no more of him; but he did 
 not forget us : my cabin here was fitted up with every 
 comfort and every delicacy. I thanked papa for it ; but 
 he looked so blank, I saw directly he knew nothing 
 about it ; and now, I think of it, it was Mr. Seaton. I 
 am positive it was. Poor fellow! And I should not 
 even know him if I saw him." 
 
 Mr. Hazel observed, in a low voice, that Mr. Seaton's 
 conduct did not seem wonderful to him. " Still," said 
 he, " one is glad to find there is some good left even in a 
 criminal." 
 
 " A criminal ! " cried Helen EoUeston, firing up. 
 "Pray, who says he was a criminal? Mr. Hazel, once 
 
80 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 for all, no friend of mine ever deserves such a name as 
 that. A friend of mine may commit some great error or 
 imprudence ; but that is all. The poor grateful soul was 
 never guilty of any downright wickedness : that stands 
 to reason." 
 
 Mr. Hazel did not encounter this feminine logic with 
 his usual ability ; he muttered something or other, with 
 a trembling lip, and left her so abruptly, that she asked 
 herself whether she had inadvertently said anything 
 that could have ofEended him ; and awaited an explana- 
 tion. But none came. The topic was never revived by 
 Mr. Hazel; and his manner, at their next meeting, 
 showed he liked her none the worse that she stood up 
 for her friends. 
 
 The wind steady from the west for two whole days, 
 and the Proserpine showed her best sailing qualities, and 
 ran four hundred and fifty miles in that time. 
 
 Then came a dead calm, and the sails flapped lazily, 
 and the masts described an arc; and the sun broiled; 
 and the sailors whistled ; and the captain drank ; and 
 the mate encouraged him. 
 
 During this calm. Miss Kolleston fell downright ill, and 
 quitted the deck. Then Mr. Hazel was very sad : bor- 
 rowed all the books in the ship, and read them, and 
 took notes ; and when he had done this, he was at leisure 
 to read men, and so began to study Hiram Hudson, 
 Joseph Wylie, and others, and take a few notes about 
 them. 
 
 From these we select some that are better worth the 
 reader's attention, than anything we could relate in our 
 own persons at this stagnant part of the story. 
 
FOUL PLAT. 81 
 
 PASSAGES FROM ME. HAZEL's DIART. 
 
 " Characters on board the Proserpine. 
 
 "There are two sailors, messmates, who have formed 
 an antique friendship ; their names are John Welch, and 
 Samuel Cooper. Welch is a very able seaman and a 
 chatterbox. Cooper is a good sailor, but very silent; 
 only what he does say is much to the purpose. 
 
 " The gabble of Welch is agreeable to the silent 
 Cooper ; and Welch admires Cooper's taciturnity. 
 
 " I asked Welch what made him like Cooper so much. 
 And he "said, ' Why, you see, sir, he is my messmate, for 
 one thing, and a seaman that knows his work ; and then 
 he has been well eddycated, and he knows when to hold 
 his tongue, does Sam.' 
 
 "I asked Cooper why he was so fond of Welch. He 
 only grunted in an uneasy way at first ; but when I 
 pressed for a reply, he let out two words — * Capital com- 
 pany.' And got away from me. 
 
 " Their friendship, though often roughly expressed, is 
 really a tender and touching sentiment. I think either 
 of these sailors would bare his back and take a dozen 
 lashes in place of his messmate. I too once thought I 
 had made such a friend. Eheu ! 
 
 " Both Cooper and Welch seem, by their talk, to con- 
 sider the ship a living creature. Cooper chews. Welch 
 only smokes, and often lets his pipe out: he is so 
 voluble. 
 
 " Captain Hudson is quite a character : or, I might say, 
 two characters ; for he is one man when he is sober, and 
 another when he is the worse for liquor : and that I am 
 sorry to see is very often. Captain Hudson, sober, is a 
 rough, bearish seaman, with a quick, experienced eye, 
 that tates in every rope in the ship, as he walks up and 
 down his quarter-deck. He either evades, or bluntly 
 6 
 
82 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 declines conversation, and gives his whole mind to sail- 
 ing his ship. 
 
 "Captain Hudson, drunk, is a garrulous man, who 
 seems to have drifted back into the past. He comes up 
 to you and talks of his own accord, and always about 
 himself, and what he did fifteen or twenty years since. 
 He forgets whatever has occurred half an hour ago ; and 
 his eye, which was an eagle's, is now a mole's. He no 
 longer sees what his sailors are doing alow or aloft ; to 
 be sure he no longer cares ; his present ship may take 
 care of herself while he is talking of his past ones. But 
 the surest indicia of inebriety in Hudson are these two. 
 Pirst, his nose is red. Secondly, he discourses upon a 
 seaman's duty to his employers. Ebrius rings the changes 
 on his ' duty to his employers ' till drowsiness attacks his 
 hearers. Cicero de Officiis was all very well at a certain 
 period of one's life: but 'bibulus nauta de oflSciis' is 
 rather too much. 
 
 "N.B. Except when his nose is red, not a word about 
 his 'duty to his employers.' That phrase, like a fine 
 lady, never ventures into the morning air. It is purely 
 post-prandial, and sacred to occasions when he is utterly 
 neglecting his duty to his employers and to everybody 
 else. 
 
 " All this is ridiculous enough, but somewhat alarm- 
 ing. To think that her precious life should be intrusted 
 to the care and skill of so imreliable a captain ! 
 
 "Joseph Wylie, the mate, is less eccentric, but even 
 more remarkable. He is one of those powerfully built 
 fellows, whom Nature, one would think, constructed to 
 gain aU their ends by force and directness. But no such 
 thing ; he goes about as softly as a cat ; is always pop- 
 ping up out of holes and corners ; and I can see he 
 watches me, and tries to hear what I say to her. He is 
 civil to me when I speak to him ; yet, I notice, he avoids 
 
FOTJL PLAY. 83 
 
 me qviietly. Altogether, there is something about him 
 that puzzles me. Why was he so reluctant to let me on 
 board as a passenger? Why did he tell a downright 
 falsehood ? For he said there was no room for me ; yet, 
 even now, there are two cabins vacant, and he has taken 
 possession of them. 
 
 " The mate of this ship has several barrels of spirits 
 in his cabin, or rather cabins, and it is he who makes the 
 captain drunk. I learned this from one of the boys. 
 This looks ugly. I fear Wylie is a bad, designing man, 
 who wishes to ruin the captain, and so get his place. 
 But, meantime, the ship might be endangered by this 
 drunkard's misconduct. I shall watch Wylie closely, 
 and perhaps put the captain on his guard against this 
 false friend. 
 
 " Last night, a breeze got up about sunset, and H 
 
 E came on deck for half an hour. I welcomed her 
 
 as calmly as I could ; but I felt my voice tremble, and 
 my heart throb. She told me the voyage tired her 
 much; but it was the last she should have to make. 
 How strange, how hellish (God forgive me for saying so !) 
 it seems that she should love him. But, does she love 
 him ? Can she love him ? Could she love him if she 
 knew all ? Know him she shall before she marries him. 
 For the present, be still, my heart. 
 
 " She soon went below and left me desolate. I wan- 
 dered all about the ship, and, at last, I came upon the 
 inseparables, Welch and Cooper. They were squatted 
 on the deck, and Welch's tongue was going as usual. 
 He was talking about this Wylie, and saying that, in all 
 his ships, he had never known such a mate as this ; why, 
 the captain was under his thumb. He then gave a string 
 of captains, each of whom would have given his mate a 
 round dozen at the gangway, if he had taken so much 
 on him, as this one does. 
 
84 FOUL PIJk.Y. 
 
 " ' Grog ! ' suggested Cooper, in extenuation. 
 
 "Welch admitted Wylie was liberal with that, and 
 friendly enough with the men ; but, still, he preferred 
 to see a ship commanded by the captain, and not by a 
 lubber like Wylie. 
 
 " I expressed some surprise at this term, and said I 
 had envied Wylie's nerves in a gale of wind we encoun- 
 tered early in the voyage. 
 
 " The talking sailor explained, ' In course, he has been 
 to sea afore this, and weathered many a gale. But so 
 has the cook. That don't make a man a sailor. You ask 
 him how to send down a to'-gallant yard, or gammon a 
 bowsprit, or even mark a lead line, and he'U stare at 
 ye, like Old Nick, when the angel caught him with the 
 red-hot tongs, and questioned him out of the Church 
 Catechism. Ask Sam there, if ye don't believe me. 
 Sam, what do you think of this Wylie for a seaman ? ' 
 
 " Cooper could not afford anything so precious, in his 
 estimate of things, as a word; but he lifted a great 
 brawny hand, and gave a snap with his finger and thumb, 
 that disposed of the mate's pretensions to seamanship 
 more expressively than words could have done it. 
 
 " The breeze has freshened, and the ship glides rapidly 
 
 through the water, bearing us all homeward. H 
 
 E has resumed her place upon the deck ; and all 
 
 seems bright again. I ask myself how we existed with- 
 out the sight of her. 
 
 "This morning the wind shifted to the south-west; the 
 captain surprised us by taking in sail. But his sober 
 eye had seen something more than ours ; for at noon it 
 blew a gale, and by sunset it was deemed prudent to 
 bring the ship's head to the wind, and we are now lying- 
 to. The ship lurches, and the wind howls through the 
 bare rigging ; but she rides buoyantly, and no danger is 
 apprehended. 
 
POUIi PliAT. 85 
 
 " Last night, as I lay in my cabin, unable to sleep, I 
 heard some heavy blows strike the ship's side repeatedly, 
 causing quite a vibration. I felt alarmed, and went out 
 to tell the captain. But I was obliged to go on my 
 hands and knees, such was the force of the wind. 
 Passing the mate's cabin, I heard sounds that made me 
 listen acutely ; and I then found the blows were being 
 struck inside the ship. I got to the captain and told 
 him. 'Oh,' said he, 'ten to one it's the mate nailing 
 down his chests, or the like.' But I assured him the 
 blows struck the side of the ship, and, at my earnest 
 request, he came out and listened. He swore a great 
 oath, and said the lubber would be through the ship's 
 side. He then tried the cabin door, but it was locked. 
 
 " The sounds ceased directly. 
 
 " We called to the mate, but received no reply for a 
 long time. At last WyUe came out of the gun-room, 
 looking rather pale, and asked what was the matter. 
 
 " I told him he ought to know best, for the blows were 
 heard where he had just come from. 
 
 '"Blows ! ' said he ; ' I believe you. Why, a tierce of 
 butter had got adrift, and was bumping up and down the 
 hold like thunder.' He then asked us whether that was 
 what we had disturbed him for, entered his cabin, and 
 almost slammed the door in our faces. 
 
 " I remarked to the captain on his disrespectful con- 
 duct. The captain was civil, and said I was right ; he 
 was a cross-grained, unmanageable brute, and he wished 
 he was. out of the ship. ' But you see, sir, he has got 
 the ear of the merchant ashore ; and so I am obliged to 
 hold a candle to the devil, as the saying is.' He then 
 fired a volley of oaths and abuse at the offender ; and, 
 not to encourage foul language, I retired to my 
 cabin. 
 
 " The wind declined towards day-break, and the ship 
 
86 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 re-commeiiced her voyage at eiglit a.m. ; but iinder treble 
 reefed topsails, and reefed courses. 
 
 " I caugEt the captain and mate talking together in 
 the friendliest way possible. That Hudson is a hum- 
 bug; there is some mystery between him and the 
 mate. 
 
 " To-day H E was on deck for several hours, 
 
 conversing sweetly, and looking like the angel she is. 
 But happiness soon flies from me : a steamer came in 
 sight, bound for Sydney. She signalled us to heave-to, 
 and send a boat. This was done, and the boat brought 
 back a letter for her. It seems they took us for the 
 Shannon, in which ship she was expected. 
 
 " The letter was from him. How her cheek flushed 
 and her eye beamed as she took it ! And oh, the sadness, 
 the agony that stood beside her unheeded ! 
 
 " I left the deck ; I could not have contained myself. 
 "What a thing is wealth ! By wealth, that wretch can 
 stretch out his hand across the ocean, and put a letter 
 into her hand under my very eye. Away goes all that 
 I have gained by being near her, while he is far away. 
 He is not ill England now — he is here. His odious 
 presence has driven me from her. Oh, that I could be a 
 child again, or in my grave, to get away from this Hell 
 of Love and Hate." 
 
 At this point, we beg leave to take the narrative into 
 our own hands again. 
 
 Mr. Hazel actually left the deck to avoid the sight of 
 Helen EoUeston's flushed cheek and beaming eyes, read- 
 ing Arthur Wardlaw's letter. 
 
 And here we might as well observe that he retired not 
 merely because the torture was hard to bear. He had 
 some disclosures to make, on reaching England ; but his 
 good sense told him this was not the time, or the place, 
 
FOUL PLAT. 87 
 
 to make them, nor Helen Eolleston the person to whom, 
 in the first instance, they ought to be made. 
 
 While he tries to relieve his swelling heart by putting 
 its throbs on paper (and, in truth, this is some faint 
 relief, for want of which many a less unhappy man than 
 Hazel has gone mad), let us stay by the lady's side, and 
 read her letter with her. 
 
 KnssEiiL Square, Dec. 15, 1864. 
 
 My Deas Love, — Hearing that the Antelope steam- 
 packet was going to Sydney, by way of Cape Horn, I have 
 begged the captain, who is mider some obligations to me, to 
 keep a good lookout for the Shannon, homeward bound, and 
 board her with these lines, weather permitting. 
 
 Of course, the chances are you will not receive them at 
 sea; but still you possibly may; and my heart is so full of 
 you, I seize any excuse for overflowing ; and then I picture to 
 myself that bright face reading an unexpected letter in mid 
 ocean, and so I taste beforehand the greatest pleasure my 
 mind can conceive — the delight of giving you pleasure, my 
 own sweet Helen. 
 
 News, I have very little. You know how deeply and 
 devotedly you are beloved — know it so well that I feel words 
 are almost wasted in repeating it. Indeed, the time, I hope, 
 is at hand when the word love will hardly be mentioned be- 
 tween us. For my part, I think it will be too visible in evei-y 
 act, and look, and word of mine, to need repetition. We do 
 not speak much about the air we live in. We breathe it, and 
 speak with it, not of it. 
 
 I suppose all lovers are jealous. I think I should go mad 
 if you were to give me a rival ; but then I do not imderstand 
 that ill-natured jealousy which would rob the beloved object 
 of all affections but the one. I know my Helen loves her 
 father — loves him, perhaps, as well or better than she does 
 me. Well, in spite of that, I love him, too. Do you know, 
 I never see that erect form, that model of courage and probity 
 come into a room, but I say to myself, ' Here comes my bene- 
 factor; but for this man there would be no Helen in the 
 
88 FOUli PLAT. 
 
 world.' Well, dearest, an unexpected circumstance has given 
 me a little military influence (these things do happen in the 
 City) ; and I really believe that, what with his acknowledged 
 merits (I am secretly informed that a very high personage 
 said, the other day, he had not received justice), and the 
 influence I speak of, a post will shortly be offered to your 
 father, that will enable him to live, henceforth, in England, 
 with comfort, I might say affluence. Perhaps he might live 
 with us. That depends upon himself. 
 
 Looking forward to this, and my own still greater happi- 
 ness, diverts my mind awhile from the one ever-pressing 
 anxiety. But, alas ! it will return. By this time my Helen 
 is on the seas, the terrible, the treacherous, the cruel seas, 
 that spare neither beauty nor virtue, nor the longing hearts at 
 home. I have conducted this office for some years, and thought 
 I knew care and anxiety ; but I find I knew neither till now. 
 
 I have two ships at sea, the Shannon and the Proserpine. 
 The Proserpine carries eighteen chests of specie, worth a 
 hundred and sixty thousand pounds. I don't care one straw 
 whether she sinks or swims. But the Shannon carries my 
 darling : and every gust at night awakens me, and every day 
 I go into the great room at Lloyds', and watch the anemometer. 
 Oh, God ! be merciful, and bring my angel safe to me ! Oh, 
 God ! be just, and strike her not for my offences ! 
 
 Besides the direct perils of the sea are some others you 
 might escape by prudence. Pray avoid the night air, for my 
 sake, who could not live if any evil befell you ; and be careful 
 in your diet. You were not looking so well as usual, when I 
 left. Would I had words to make you know your own value. 
 Then you would feel it a duty to be prudent. 
 
 But I must not sadden you with my fears ; let me turn to 
 my hopes. How bright they are ; what joy, what happiness, 
 is sailing towards me, nearer and neai-er every day. I ask 
 myself, what am I that such paradise should be mine P 
 
 My love, when we are one, shall we share every thought, 
 or shall I keep commerce, speculation, and its temptations 
 away from your pure spirit? Sometimes I think I should 
 like to have neither thought nor occupation unshared by you ; 
 and that you would purify trade itself by your contact; at 
 
F0X7L PLAT. 89 
 
 other times I say to myself, ' Oh, never soil that angel with 
 your miserable business : but go home to her as if you were 
 going from earth to heaven, for a few blissful hours.' But 
 you shall decide this question, and every other. 
 
 Must I close this letter? Must I say no more, though I 
 have scarcely begun P 
 
 Yes, I will end it, since, perhaps, you will never see it. 
 
 When I have sealed it, I mean to hold it in my clasped 
 hands, and so pray the Almighty to take it safe to you, and 
 to bring you safe to him who can never know peace nor joy 
 till he sees you once more. 
 
 Your devoted and anxious lover, 
 
 Akthuk Waedlaw. 
 
 Helen Eolleston read this letter more than once. She 
 liked it none the less for being disconnected and unbusi- 
 ness-like. She had seen her Arthur's business letters ; 
 models of courteous conciseness. She did not value such 
 compositions. This one she did. She smiled over it, all 
 beaming and blushing ; she kissed it, and read it again, 
 and sat with it in her lap. 
 
 But, by and by, her mood changed, and, when Mr. 
 Hazel ventured upon deck again, he found her with her 
 forehead sinking on her extended arm, and the lax hand 
 of that same arm holding the letter. She was crying. 
 
 The whole drooping attitude was so lovely, so femi- 
 nine, yet so sad, that Hazel stood irresolute, looking 
 ■wistfully at her. 
 
 She caught sight of him, and, by a natural impxdse, 
 turned gently away, as if to hide her tears. But, the 
 next moment, she altered her mind, and said, with a quiet 
 dignity that came naturally to her at times, "Why 
 should I hide my care from you, sir ? Mr. Hazel, may I 
 speak to you as a clergyman ? " 
 
 "Certainly," said Mr. Hazel, in a somewhat faint 
 voice. 
 
90 FOTTIi PLAY. 
 
 She pointed to a seat, and he sat down near her. 
 
 She was silent for some time ; her lip quivered a little ; 
 she was struggling inwardly for that decent composure, 
 which, on certain occasions, distinguishes the lady from 
 the mere woman ; and it was with a pretty firm voice 
 she said what follows : — 
 
 " I am going to tell you a little secret, one I have kept 
 from my own father. It is — that I have not very long 
 to live." 
 
 Her hazel eye rested calmly on his face while she said 
 these words quietly. 
 
 He received them with amazement, at first; amaze- 
 ment, that soon deepened into horror. " What do you 
 mean ? " he gasped. " What words are these ? " 
 
 " Thank you for minding so much," said she, sweetly. 
 " I will tell you. I have fits of coughing, not frequent, 
 but violent ; and then blood very often comes from my 
 lungs. That is a bad sign, you know. I have been so 
 for four months now, and I am a good deal wasted ; my 
 hand used to be very plump, look at it now. Poor 
 Arthur!" 
 
 She turned away her head to drop a gentle unselfish 
 tear or two ; and Hazel stared with increasing alarm at 
 the lovely, but wasted hand she still held out to him, 
 and glanced, too, at Arthur Wardlaw's letter, held slightly 
 by the beloved fingers. 
 
 He said nothing, and, when she looked round again, he 
 was pale and trembling. The revelation was so sudden. 
 
 "Pray be calm, sir," said she. "We need speak of 
 this no more. But now, I think, you will not be sur- 
 prised that I come to you for religious advice and conso- 
 lation, short as our acquaintance is." 
 
 "I am in no condition to give them," said Hazel, in 
 great agitation. "I can think of nothing but how to 
 save you. May Heaven help me and give me wisdom for 
 that." 
 
POTTL PLAT. 91 
 
 "This is idle," said Helen EoUeston, gently, but 
 firmly. " I have had the best advice for months, and I 
 get worse ; and, Mr. Hazel, I shall never be better. My 
 mother died at my age, and of the same fatal disorder. 
 So aid me to bow to the will of Heaven. Sir, I do not 
 repine at leaving the world ; but it does grieve me to 
 think how my departure will affect those whose happi- 
 ness is very, very dear to me. Especially it will affect 
 one who now is awaiting my arrival in England. But I 
 feel I shall never reach home. Well, you will see him 
 when he comes on board this ship only to hear — to 
 find — " She stopped — her face fell until it touched 
 the paper. 
 
 She then looked at the letter, blushed, and hesitated a 
 moment ; but ended by giving it to him whom she had 
 applied to as her religious adviser. It was wet with 
 tears. 
 
 " Oblige me by reading that. And when you have, I 
 think you will grant me a favor I wish to ask you. Poor 
 fellow ! so full of hopes that I am doomed to disappoint." 
 
 She rose to hide her emotion, and left Arthur Ward- 
 law's letter in the hands of him who loved her, if possi- 
 ble, more devotedly than Arthur Wardlaw did ; and she 
 walked the deck pensively, little dreaming how strange 
 a thing she had done. 
 
 As for Hazel, he was in a situation poignant with 
 agony; only the heavy blow that had just fallen had 
 stunned and benumbed him. He felt a natural repug- 
 nance to read this letter. But she had given him no 
 choice. He read it. In reading it he felt a mortal 
 sickness come over him, but he persevered ; he read it 
 carefully to the end, and, he was examining the signa- 
 ture keenly, when Miss EoUeston rejoined him. 
 
 " He loves me ; does he not ? " said she, wistfully. 
 
 Hazel looked haK-stupidly in her face for a moment ; 
 
92 FOTJL PLAT. 
 
 then, with a candor ■which was part of his character, 
 replied, doggedly, " Yes, the man who wrote this letter 
 loves you." 
 
 " Then you can pity him, and I may venture to ask 
 you the favor to — It will be a bitter grief and disap- 
 pointment to him. Will you break it to him as gently 
 as you can ; will you say that his Helen — ? " 
 
 He handed her the letter, almost thrusting it upon 
 her, and turned away. 
 
 " Mr. Hazel ! will you not grant me so small a favor ? " 
 
 The man faced her, his features convulsed with pas- 
 sion. He covered them for a moment with his trembling 
 hands, then, with unutterable love in the gaze he fixed 
 upon her, he answered her pleading with one word : 
 
 "No." 
 
FOUL PLAY. 93 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 This point-blank refusal surprised Helen RoUeston; 
 all the more that it was uttered with a certaia suUenness, 
 and even asperity, she had never seen till then in this 
 gentle clergyman. 
 
 It made her fear she had done wrong in asking it ; 
 and she looked ashamed and distressed. 
 
 However, the explanation soon followed. 
 
 " My business," said he, " is to prolong your precious 
 life ; and making up your mind to die is not the way. 
 You shall have no encouragement in such weakness from 
 me. Pray let me be your physician." 
 
 " Thank you," said Helen, coldly ; " I have my own 
 physician." 
 
 " No doubt ; but he shows me his incapacity, by allow- 
 ing you to live on pastry and sweets ; things that are 
 utter poison to you. Disease of the lungs is curable, but 
 not by drugs and unwholesome food." 
 
 "Mr. Hazel," said the lady, "we will drop the subject, 
 if you please. It has taken an uninteresting turn." 
 
 " To you, perhaps ; but not to me." 
 
 " Excuse me, sir, if you took that real friendly interest 
 in me and my condition I was vain enough to think you 
 might, you would hardly have refused me the first favor 
 I ever asked you ; and," drawing herself up proudly, 
 "need I say the last ? " 
 
 "You are unjust," said Hazel, sadly ; "unjust beyond 
 endurance. I refuse you anything that is for your good ? 
 I, who would lay down my life with unmixed joy for 
 you ! " 
 
94 FOtTL PLAT. 
 
 " Mr. Hazel ! " And she drew back from him with a 
 haughty stare. Then she trembled violently ; but soon 
 recovering herself, she said, with overpowering spirit 
 and dignity, "Sir, you have taught me a lesson — a 
 bitter one. You have abused your position, and the con- 
 fidence it gave me ; from this moment, of course we are 
 strangers." 
 
 After this, Helen Eolleston and Mr. Hazel never 
 spoke. She walked past him on the deck with cold and 
 haughty contempt. 
 
 He quietly submitted to it ; and never presumed to say 
 one word to her again. Only, as his determination was 
 equal to his delicacy. Miss Eolleston found, one day, a 
 paper on her table, containing advice as to the treatment 
 of disordered lungs, expressed with apparent coldness, 
 and backed by a string of medical authorities, quoted 
 memoriter. 
 
 She sent this back directly, indorsed with a line, in 
 pencil, that she would try hard to live, but should use 
 her own judgment as to the means. 
 
 He replied, " Live, with whatever motive you please ; 
 only live." 
 
 To this she vouchsafed no answer ; nor did this 
 unhappy man trouble her again, until an occasion of a 
 very different kind arose. 
 
 One fine night he sat on the deck, with his back against 
 the mainmast, in deep melancholy and listlessness, and 
 fell, at last, into a doze, from which he was awakened by 
 a peculiar sound below. It was a "beautiful and stilly 
 night ; all sounds were magnified ; and the father of all 
 rats seemed to be gnawing the ship down below. 
 
 Hazel's curiosity was excited, and he went softly down 
 the ladder to see what the sound really was. But that 
 was not so easy, for it proved to be below decks ; but he 
 
FOtTL PLAY. 95 
 
 saw a light glimmering through a small scuttle abaft the 
 mate's cabin, and the sounds were in the neighborhood 
 of that light. 
 
 It now flashed upon Mr. Hazel that this was the very 
 quarter where he had heard that mysterious knockiug 
 when the ship was lying-to in the gale. 
 
 Upon this, a certain degree of vague suspicion began 
 to mingle with his curiosity. 
 
 He stood still a moment, listening acutely ; then took 
 off his shoes very quietly, and moved with noiseless foot 
 towards the scuttle. 
 
 The gnawing still continued. 
 
 He put his head through the scuttle, and peered into 
 a dark, dismal place, whose very existence was new to 
 him. It was, in fact, a vacant space between the cargo 
 and the ship's run. This wooden cavern was very narrow, 
 but not less than fifteen feet long. The candle was at 
 the farther end, and between it and Hazel, a man was 
 working, with his flank turned towards the spectator. 
 This partly intercepted the light ; but still it revealed 
 in a fitful way the huge ribs of the ship, and her inner 
 skin, that formed the right hand partition, so to speak, 
 of this black cavern; and close outside those gaunt 
 timbers was heard the wash of the sea. 
 
 There was something solemn in the close proximity of 
 that tremendous element, and the narrowness of the 
 wooden barrier. 
 
 The bare place, and the gentle, monotonous wash of 
 the liquid monster, on that calm night, conveyed to 
 Mr. Hazel's mind a thought akin to David's. 
 
 "As the Lord liveth, and as thy soul Uveth, there is 
 but a step between me and death." 
 
 Judge whether that thought grew weaker or stronger, 
 when, after straining his eyes for some time, to under- 
 stand what was going on at that midnight hour, in that 
 
96 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 hidden plsuje, he saw who was the workman, and what 
 was his occupation. It was Joseph Wylie, the mate. 
 His profile was illuminated by the candle, and looked 
 ghastly. He had in his hands an auger of enormous 
 size, and with this he was drilling a great hole through 
 the ship's side, just helow the water mark ; an act, the 
 effect of which would be to let the sea bodily into the 
 ship, and sink her, with every soul on board, to the bot- 
 tom of the Pacific Ocean. 
 
 " I was stupefied ; and my hairs stood on end, and my 
 tongue clove to my jaws." 
 
 Thus does one of ViTgil's characters describe the 
 effect his mind produced on his body, in a terrible 
 situation. 
 
 Mr. Hazel had always ridiculed that trite line as a 
 pure exaggeration ; but he altered his opinion after that 
 eventful night. 
 
 When he first saw what Wylie was doing — obstupuit; 
 he was merely benumbed ; but, as his mind realized the 
 fiendish nature of the act, and its tremendous conse- 
 quences, his hair actually bristled, and, for a few minutes 
 at least, he could not utter a word. 
 
 In that interval of stupor, matters took another turn. 
 The auger went in up to the haft : then Wylie caught 
 up with his left hand a wooden plug he had got ready, 
 jerked the auger away, caught up a hammer, and swiftly 
 inserted the plug. 
 
 Bapid as he was, a single jet of water came squirting 
 viciously in. But Wylie lost no time, he tapped the 
 plug smartly with his hammer several times, and then, 
 lifting a mallet with both hands, rained heavy blows on 
 it that drove it in, and shook the ship's side. 
 
 Then Hazel found his voice, and he uttered an ejacu- 
 lation that made the mate look round; he glared at the 
 
TOtTL PLAY. 97 
 
 man, who was glaring at him, and, staggering back- 
 ward, trod on the light, and all was darkness and dead 
 silence. 
 
 All but the wash of the sea outside, and that louder 
 than ever. 
 
98 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 But a short interval sufficed to restore one of tte 
 parties to his natural self-possession. 
 
 " Lord, sir," said Wylie, " how you startled me ! You 
 should not come upon a man at his work like that. We 
 might have had an accident." 
 
 " What were you doing ? " said Hazel, in a voice that 
 quivered in spite of him. 
 
 "Repairing the ship. Pound a crack or two in her 
 inner skin. There, let me get a light, and I'll explain it 
 to you, sir." 
 
 He groped his way out, and invited Mr. Hazel into 
 his cabin. There he struck a light, and, with great 
 civility, tendered an explanation. The ship, he said, 
 had labored a good deal in the last gale, and he had 
 discovered one or two flaws in her, which were of no 
 immediate importance : but experience had taught him 
 that in calm weather a ship ought to be kept tight. 
 " As they say ashore, a stitch in time saves nine." 
 
 "But drilling holes in her is not the way," said Hazel, 
 sternly. 
 
 The mate laughed. " Why, sir," said he, " what other 
 way is there ? We cannot stop an irregular crack ; we 
 can frame nothing to fit it. The way is to get ready a 
 plug, measured a trifle larger than the aperture you are 
 going to make ; then drill a round hole, and force in the 
 plug. I know no other way than that; and I was a 
 ship's carpenter for ten years before I was a mate." 
 
 This explanation, and the manner in which it was 
 given, removed Mr. Hazel's apprehensions for the time 
 
FOUL PLAY. 99 
 
 being. "It was very alarming," said he; "but I suppose 
 you know your business." 
 
 " Kobody better, sir," said Wylie. " Wby, it is not 
 one seaman in three that would trouble his head about a 
 flaw in a ship's inner skin ; but I'm a man that looks 
 ahead. Will you have a glass of grog, sir, now you are 
 here? I keep that under my eye, too: between our- 
 selves, if the skipper had as much in his cabin, as I have 
 here, that might be worse for us all than a crack or two 
 in the ship's inner skin." 
 
 Mr. Hazel declined to drink grog at that time in the 
 morning, but wished him good-night, and left him with 
 a better opinion of him than he ever had till then. 
 
 Wylie, when he was gone, drew a tumbler of neat 
 spirits, drank half, and carried the rest back to his work. 
 
 Yet WyHe was a very sober man in a general way. 
 Rum was his tool ; not his master. 
 
 When Hazel came to think of it all next day, he did 
 not feel quite so easy as he had done. The inner skin ! 
 But, when Wylie withdrew his auger, the water had 
 squirted in furiously. He felt it hard to believe that 
 this keen jet of water could be caused by a small quan- 
 tity that had found its way between the skin of the 
 ship and her copper, or her top booting ; it seemed rather 
 to be due to the direct pressure of the liquid monster 
 outside. 
 
 He went to the captain that afternoon, and first told 
 him what he had seen, offering no solution. The captain, 
 on that occasion, was in an amphibious state ; neither 
 wet nor dry ; and his reply was altogether exceptional. 
 He received the communication with pompous civility ; 
 then swore a great oath, and said he would put the mate 
 in irons ; " Confound the lubber ! he will be through the 
 ship's bottom." 
 
 "But, stop a moment," said Mr. Hazel, " it is only fair 
 
100 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 you should also heat holur he accounts for his proceed- 
 ing." 
 
 The captain listened attentively to the explanation, 
 and altered his tone. "Oh, that is a different matter," 
 said he. " You need be under no alarm, sir ; the thunder- 
 ing lubber knows what he is about at that work. Why, 
 he has been a ship's carpenter all his life. Htm a sear 
 man ! If anything ever happens to me, and Joe Wylie 
 is set to navigate this ship, then you may say your 
 prayers. He isn't fit to sail a wash-tub across a duck- 
 pond. But I'U tell you what it is," added this worthy, 
 with more pomposity than neatness of articulation, 
 "here's a respeokable passenger brought me a report; 
 do my duty m'employers, and — take a look at the well." 
 
 He accordingly chalked a plumb-liue, and went and 
 sounded the well. 
 
 There were eight inches of water. Hudson told him 
 that was no more than all ships contained from various 
 causes ; "in fact," said he, "our pumps suck, and will not 
 draw, at eight inches." Then suddenly grasping Mr. 
 Hazel's hand, he said, in tearful accents, "Don't you 
 trouble your head about Joe Wylie, or any such scum. 
 I'm skipper of the Proserpine, and a man that does his 
 duty to z'employers. Mr. Hazel, sir, I'd come to my last 
 anchor in that well this moment, if my duty to m'em- 
 ployers required it. I'd lie down there this minute, and 
 never move to all eternity, and a day after, if it was my 
 duty to m'employers." 
 
 "No doubt," said Hazel, dryly. "But I think you can 
 serve your employers better in other parts of the ship." 
 He then left him, with a piece of advice ; " to keep his 
 eye upon that Wylie." 
 
 Mr. Hazel kept his own eye on Wylie so constantly, 
 that at eleven o'clock p.m., he saw that worthy go into 
 the captain's cabin with a quart bottle of rum. 
 
FOtTL PLAY. 101 
 
 The coast was clear ; the temptation great ; these men 
 were still deceiTing him with a feigned antagonism ; he 
 listened at the keyhole, not without some compunction ; 
 which, however, became less and less as fragments of 
 the dialogue reached his ear. 
 
 For a long time the only speaker was Hudson, and his 
 discourse ran upon his own exploits at sea. But suddenly 
 Wylie's voice broke in with an unmistakable tone of supe- 
 riority. "Belay all that chat, and listen to me. It is 
 time we settled something. "I'll hear what you have 
 got to say : and then you'll do what I say. Better keep 
 your hands off the bottle a minute ; you have had-enough 
 for the present ; this is business. I know you are good 
 for jaw ; but what are you game to do for the governor's 
 money ? Anything ? " 
 
 "More than you have ever seen or heard tell of, ye 
 lubber," replied the irritated skipper. "Who has ever 
 served his employers like Hiram Hudson ? " 
 
 " Keep that song for your quarter deck," retorted the 
 mate, contemptuously. " No ; on second thoughts, just 
 tell me how you have served your employers, you old 
 humbug. Give me -chapter and verse to choose from. 
 Come now, the Neptune ? " 
 
 , " Well, the Neptune ; she caught fire a hundred leagues 
 from land. Somebody set a lighted candle on a gallon of 
 turpentine. Well, I put her head before the wind, and 
 ran for the Azores ; and I stuck to her, sir, till she was 
 as black as a coal, and we couldn't stand on deck, but 
 kept hopping like parched peas; and fire belching out 
 of her port-holes forward: then we took to the boats, 
 and saved a few bales of silk by way of sample of her 
 cargo, and got ashore ; and she'd have come ashore too 
 next tide and told tales; but somebody left a keg of 
 gunpowder in the cabin, with a long fuse, and blew a 
 hole in herald ribs^ that the water came in, and down 
 
102 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 she went, hissing like ten thousand serpents, and nobody 
 the wiser." 
 
 "Who lighted the fuse, I wonder ? " said Wylie. 
 
 "Didn't I tell ye it was Somebody?" said Hudson. 
 "Hand me the stiff." He replenished his glass, and 
 after taking a sip or two, asked Wylie if he had ever 
 had the luck to be boarded by pirates. 
 
 " No," said Wylie. " Have you ? " 
 
 "Ay; and they rescued me from a watery grave, as 
 the lubbers call it. Ye see, I was employed by Downes 
 and Co., down at the Havannah, and cleared' for Vera 
 Cruz with some boxes of old worn-out printers' type." 
 
 " To print psalm-books for the darkies, no doubt," sug- 
 gested Wylie. 
 
 "Insured as specie," continued Hudson, ignoring the 
 interruption. "Well, just at day-break one morning, all 
 of a sudden there was a rakish-looking craft on our 
 weather-bow: lets fly a nine-pounder across our fore- 
 foot, and was alongside before my men could tumble up 
 from below. I got knocked into the sea by the boom, 
 and fell between the ships ; and the pirate he got hold 
 of me, and poured hot grog down my throat to bring me 
 to my senses." 
 
 "That is not what you use it for in general," said 
 Wylie. " Civil sort of pirate, though." 
 
 "Pirate be blow;ed. That was my consort, rigged out 
 with a black flag, and mounted with four nine-pounders 
 on one side, and five dummies on the other. He blus- 
 tered a bit, and swore, and took our type and our cab- 
 bages (I complained to Downes ashore about the vagabond 
 taking the vegetables), and ordered us to leeward under 
 all canvas, and we never saw him again — not till he had 
 shaved off his mustaches, and called on Downes to con- 
 dole, and say the varmint had chased his ship fifty leagues 
 out of her course ; but he had got clear of him, Downes 
 
FOUL PLAY. 103 
 
 complimented me publicly. Says he, 'This skipper 
 boarded the pirate single-handed ; only he jumped short, 
 and fell between the two ships ; and here he is by a mira- 
 cle.' Then he takes out his handkerchief, and flops his 
 head on my shoulder. ' His merciful preservation almost 
 reconciles me to the loss of my gold,' says the thunder- 
 ing crocodile. Cleared seventy thousand dollars he did 
 out of the Manhattan Marine, and gave the pirate and 
 me but two hundred pounds between us both." 
 
 " The Eose ? " said Wylie. 
 
 "What a hurry you are in ! Pass the grog. Well, the 
 Eose ; she lay off Ushant. We canted her to wash the 
 decks ; lucky she had a careful commander ; not like 
 Kempenfelt, whose eye was in his pocket, and his fingers 
 held the pen, so he went to the bottom, with Lord knows 
 how many men. I noticed the squalls came very sudden ; 
 so I sent most of my men ashore, and got the boats ready 
 in case of accident. A squall did strike her, and she was 
 on her beam-ends in a moment : we pulled ashore with 
 two bales of silk by way of salvage, and sample of what 
 wasn't in her hold when she settled down. We landed ; 
 and the Frenchmen were dancing about with excitement. 
 'Captain,' says one, 'you have much sang fraw.' 'Insured, 
 mounseer,' says I. 'Bone,' says he. 
 
 " Then there was the Antelope, lost in charge of a pilot 
 off the Hooghly. I knew the water as well as he did. 
 We were on the port tack, standing towards the shoal. 
 Weather it, as we should have done next tack, and I 
 should have failed in my duty to my employers. Any- 
 thing but that. 'Look out!' said L 'Pilot, she fore- 
 reaches in stays.' Pilot was smoking : those Sandhead 
 pilots smoke in bed and asleep. He takes his cigar out 
 of his mouth for one moment. ' Eeady about,' says he. 
 'Hands 'bout ship. Helm's a^lee. Eaise tacks and 
 sheets.' Eound she was coming like a top. Pilot smok- 
 
10^ FOUL PLA.1^ 
 
 ing. Just as he was going to haul the mainsail, Some- 
 body tripped against him, and shoved the hot cigar in 
 his eye. He sung out and swore, and there was no 
 mainsail haul. Ship in irons, tide running hard on to 
 the shoal, and before we could clear away for anchoring, 
 bump! — there she was hard and fast. A stiff breeze 
 got up at sunrise, and she broke up. Next day I was 
 sipping my grog and reading the 'Bengal Courier,' and 
 it told the disastrous wreck of the brig Antelope, wrecked 
 in charge of a pilot; 'but no lives lost, and the owners 
 fully insured.' Then there was the bark Sally. Why, 
 you saw her yourself distressed, on a lee shore." 
 
 "Yes," said Wylie. "I was in that tub, the Grampus, 
 and we contrived to claw off the Scillies, yet you in your 
 smart Sally got ashore. What luck ! " 
 
 " Luck be blowed ! " cried Hudson, angrily. " Some- 
 body got into the chains to sound ; and cut the lee hal- 
 yards. Next tack the masts went over the side ; and I 
 had done my duty." 
 
 " Lives were lost that time, eh ? " said Wylie, gravely. 
 
 "What is that to you?" replied Hudson, with the 
 sudden ire of a drunken man. " Mind your own business. 
 Pass the bottle. 
 
 " Yes, lives was lost : and always will be lost in sea- 
 going ships, where the skipper does his duty. There 
 was a sight more lost at Trafalgar, owing to every man 
 doing his duty. Lives lost, ye lubber! And why not 
 mine ? Because their time was come, and mine wasn't. 
 For I'll tell you one thing. Joe Wylie, — if she takes 
 fire and runs before the wind till she is as black as a 
 coal, and belching flame through all her port holes, and 
 then explodes, and goes aloft in ten thousand pieces no 
 bigger than my hat, or your knowledge of navigation, 
 Hudson is the last man to leave her: Duty! — If she 
 goes on her beam ends and founders, Hudson sees the 
 
FOTJI. PLAY. 105 
 
 last qf her^ and reports it to his employers : Duty ! — If 
 she goes grinding on Scilly, Hudson is the last man to 
 leave her bones : Duty ! — Some day perhaps I shall be 
 s-wamped myself along with the craft: I have escaped 
 till now, all owing to not being insured ; but if ever, my 
 time should come, and you should get clear, promise me, 
 Joe, to see the owners, and tell 'em Hudson did his duty." 
 
 Here a few tears quenched hiS: noble ardor for a 
 moment. But he soon recovered, and s^id, with some 
 little heat, "You have got the bottle again. I never 
 saw such a fellow to get hold of the bottle. Come, 
 here's ' Duty to our employers ! ' And ^o^ I'U tell you 
 how we managed with the Carysbrook and, the Amelia." 
 
 This promise was followed by fresh narratives: in 
 particular, of, a vessel he had run upon the Elorida reef 
 at night, where wreckers had been retained in advance 
 to look out for signals, and come on board and quarrel in 
 pretence and set fire to the vessel, insured at thrice her 
 value. 
 
 Hudson got quite excited with the memory of these 
 exploits, and told each successive feat louder and louder. 
 
 But now it was Wylie's turn. "Well," said he, gravely, 
 "all this was child's play." 
 
 There was a pause that marked Hudson's, astonishment. 
 Then he broke out, " Child's play, ye lubber ! If you had 
 been there your gills would have been as white as your 
 Sunday shirt." 
 
 " Come, be civil," said Wylie. " I tell you all the ways 
 you. have told me are too suspicious. Our governor is a 
 highflyer ; he pays like a prince, and, in return, he must 
 not be blown on, if it is ever so little. 'Wylie,' says 
 he, ' a breath of suspicion would kill me.' ' Make it so 
 much,' says I, ' and that breath shall never blow on you.' 
 No, no, skipper; none of those ways will do for us: they 
 haye all been worked twice too often. It must be. done 
 
106 POTJIi PLAY. 
 
 in fair weatter, and in a way — fill your glass, and I'll 
 fill mine — capital rum this. You talk of my gills turn- 
 ing white ; before long, we shall see whose keeps their 
 color best, mine or yours, my Bo." 
 
 There was a silence, during which Hudson was prob- 
 ably asking himself what Wylie meant ; for, presently, 
 he broke out into a loud, but somewhat unsteady voice, 
 "Why, you mad, drunken devil of a ship's carpenter, 
 red-hot from hell, I see what you are at, now ; you are 
 going — " 
 
 " Hush ! " cried Wylie, alarmed in his turn. " Is this 
 the sort of thing to bellow out for the watch to hear ? 
 Whisper, now." 
 
 -This was followed by the earnest mutterings of two 
 voices. In vain did the listener send his very soul into 
 his ear to hear. He could catch no single word. Yet 
 he could tell, by the very tones of the speakers, that the 
 dialogue was one of mystery and importance. 
 
 Here was a situation at once irritating and alarming ; 
 but there was no help for it. The best thing, now, 
 seemed to be to withdraw unobserved, and wait for 
 another opportunity. He did so : and he had not long 
 retired, when the mate came out staggering, and flushed 
 with liquor, and that was a thing that had never occurred 
 before. He left the cabin door open, aiid went into his 
 own room. 
 
 'Soon after, sounds issued from the cabin, — peculiar 
 sounds, something between grunting and snoring. 
 
 Mr. Hazel came and entered the cabin. There he 
 found the captain of the Proserpine in a position very 
 unfavorable to longevity. His legs were crooked over 
 the seat of his chair, and his head was on the ground. 
 His handkerchief was tight round his neck, and the 
 man himself dead drunk, and purple in the face. 
 
 Mr. Hazel instantly undid his stock; on which the 
 
FOUL PLAT. 107 
 
 gallant seaman muttered inarticulately. He then took 
 his feet off the chair, and laid them on the ground, and 
 put the empty bottle under the animal's neck. He gave 
 the prostrate figure a heavy kick that almost turned it 
 over, and the words, "Duty to m'employers," gurgled out 
 of its mouth directly. 
 
 It really seemed as if these sounds were independent 
 of the mind, and resided at the tip of Hudson's tongue ; 
 so that a thorough good kick could, at any time, shake 
 them out of his inanimate body. 
 
 Thus do things ludicrous, and things terrible, mingle 
 in the real world ; only, to those who are in the arena, 
 the ludicrous passes unnoticed, being overshadowed by 
 its terrible neighbor. 
 
 And so it was with Hazel. He saw nothing absurd in 
 all this ; and in that prostrate, insensible hog, command- 
 ing the ship, forsooth, and carrying all their lives in his 
 hands, he saw the mysterious and alarming only; saw 
 them so, and felt them, that he lay awake all night 
 thinking what he should do, and early next day he went 
 into the mate's cabin, and said to him, "Mr. Wylie, in 
 any other ship I should speak to the captain, and not to 
 the mate ; but here that would be no use, for you are the 
 master, and he is your servant." 
 
 "Don't tell him so, sir, for he doesn't think small beer 
 of himself." 
 
 " I shall waste no more words on him. It is to you I 
 speak, and you know I speak the truth. Here is a ship, 
 in which, for certain reasons known to yourself, the 
 captain is under the mate." 
 
 "Well, sir," said Wylie good humoredly, "it is of no 
 use trying to deceive a gentleman like you. Our skipper 
 is an excellent seaman, but he has got a fault." Then 
 Wylie imitated, with his hand, the action of a person 
 filling Ms glass. 
 
108 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 " And you are here to keep him sober, eh ? " 
 
 Wylie nodded. 
 
 " Then why do you ply him with liquor ? " 
 
 « I don't, sir." 
 
 " You do. I have seen you do it a dozen times : and 
 last night you took rum into his room, and made him so 
 drunk, he would have died where he lay if I had not 
 loosed his handkerchief." 
 
 " I am sorry to hear that, sir ; but he was sober when 
 I left him. The fool must have got to the bottle the 
 moment I was gone." 
 
 " But that bottle you put in his way ; I saw you : and 
 what was your object? to deaden his conscience with 
 liquor, his and your own, while you made him your 
 fiendish proposal. Man, man! do you believe in God, 
 and in a judgment to come for the deeds done in the 
 body, that you can plan in cold blood to destroy a vessel 
 with nineteen souls on board, besides the live stock, the 
 innocent animals that God pitied and spared when He 
 raised His hand in wrath over Nineveh of old ? " 
 
 While the clergyman was speaking, with flashing eyes 
 and commanding voice, the seaman turned ashy pale; 
 and drew his shoulders together like a cat preparing to 
 defend her life. 
 
 " I plan to destroy a vessel, sir ! You never heard me 
 say such a word ; and don't you hint such a thing iu the 
 ship, or you will get yourself into trouble." 
 
 " That depends on you." 
 
 " How so, sir ? " 
 
 " I have long suspected you." 
 
 "You need not tell me that, sir." 
 
 "But I have not communicated my suspicions. And 
 now that they are certainties, I come first to you. In 
 one word, will you forego your intention, since it is 
 found out?" 
 
FOUL PLAY. 109 
 
 "^'Sow can I forego what never was in mf Head?" 
 said Wylie. " Cast away the ship ! Why, there's no 
 land within three thousand miles. Founder a vessel in 
 the Pacific ! Do you think my life is not as sweet to me 
 as yours is to you ? " 
 
 Wylie eyed him keenly to see the effect of these words, 
 and by a puzzled expression that came over his face, saw 
 at once he had assumed a more exact knowledge than he 
 really possessed. 
 
 Hazel replied that he had said nothing about founder- 
 ing the ship ; but there were many ways of destroying 
 one. "For instance," said he, "I know how the Neptune 
 was destroyed — and so do you ; how the Eose and the 
 Antelope were cast away — and so do you." 
 
 At this enumeration, Wylie lost his color and self- 
 possession for a moment ; he saw Hazel had been listening. 
 Hazel followed up his blow. " Promise me now, by all 
 you hold sacred, to forego this villany ; and I hold my 
 tongue. Attempt to defy me, or to throw dust in my 
 eyes, and I go instantly among the crew, and denounce 
 both you and Hudson to them." 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " cried Wylie, in unfeigned terror. 
 " Why, the men would mutiny on the spot." 
 
 " I can't help that," said Hazel firmly ; and took a step 
 towards the door. 
 
 " Stop a bit," said the mate, and, springing before the 
 clergyman, he set his back against the door. " Don't be 
 in such a nation hurry ; for, if you do, it will be bad for 
 me, but worse for you." The above was said so gravely, 
 and with such evident sincerity, that Mr. Hazel was 
 struck, and showed it. Wylie followed up that trifling 
 advantage. " Sit down a minute, sir, if you please, and 
 listen to me. You never saw a mutiny on board ship, 
 I'll be bound. It is a worse thing than any gale that 
 ever blew : begins fair enough, sometimes ; but how does 
 
110 FOUL PI/AT. 
 
 it end ? In breaking into the spirit-room, and drinking 
 to madness, plundering the ship, ravishing the women, 
 and cutting a throat or so for certain. You don't seem 
 so fond of the picture, as you was of the idea. And 
 then they might turn a deaf ear to you, after all. Ship 
 is well found in all stores; provisions served out freely; 
 men in good humor; and I have got their ear. And 
 now I'll tell you why it won't suit your little game to 
 blacken me to the crew, upon the bare chance of a 
 mutiny." He paused for a moment, then resumed in 
 a lower tone, " You see, sir, when a man is very ready 
 to suspect me, I always suspect him. Now you was 
 imcommon ready to suspect me. You didn't wait till 
 you came on board ; you began the game ashore. Oh ! 
 that makes you open one eye, does it ? You thought I 
 didn't know you again. Knew you, my man, the moment 
 you came aboard. I never forget a face ; and disguises 
 don't pass on me." 
 
 It was now Hazel's turn to look anxious and dis- 
 composed. 
 
 "Well, then, the moment I saw you suspected me I 
 was down upon you. You come aboard under false 
 colors. We didn't want a chap like you in the ship; but 
 you would come. 'What is the bloke after?' says I, 
 and watches. You was so intent suspecting me of this, 
 that and t'other, that you unguarded yourself : and that 
 is common too. ' I'm blowed if it isn't the lady he is 
 after,' says I. With all my heart : only she might do 
 better, and I don't see how she could do worse, unless 
 she went to Old Nick for a mate. Now, I'll tell you 
 what it is, my Ticket o' Leave. I've been in trouble 
 myself, and don't want to be hard on a poor devil, just 
 because he. sails under an alias, and lies as near the wind 
 as he can, to weather on the beaks and the bobbies. But 
 one good turn deserves another: keep your dirty sus- 
 
FOUL PLAY. Ill 
 
 picions to yourself ; for if you dare to open your lips to 
 the men, in five minutes, or less than that, you shall be 
 in irons, and confined to your cabin ; and we'll put you 
 ashore at the first port that flies a British flag, and hand 
 you over to the authorities, till one of Her Majesty's 
 cruisers sends in a boat for you." 
 
 At this threat Mr. Hazel hung his head in confusion 
 and dismay, 
 
 "Come, get out of my cabin, Parson Alias," shouted 
 the mate ; " and belay your foul tongue in this ship, and 
 don't make an enemy of Joe Wylie, a man that can eat 
 you up and spit you out again, and never brag. Sheer 
 off, I say, and be d d to you." 
 
 Mr. Hazel, with a pale face, and sick heart, looked 
 aghast at this dangerous man, who could be fox, or tiger, 
 as the occasion demanded. 
 
 Surprised, alarmed, outwitted, and out-menaced, he 
 retired with disordered countenance and uneven steps, 
 and hid himself in his own cabin. 
 
 The more he weighed the whole situation, the more 
 clearly did he see that he w.as utterly powerless in the 
 hands of Wylie. A skipper is an emperor ; and Hudson 
 had the power to iron him, and set him on shore at the 
 nearest port. The right to do it was another matter; 
 but even on that head, Wylie could furnish a plausible 
 excuse for the act. Retribution, if it came at all, would 
 not be severe, and would be three or four years coming : 
 and who fears it much, when it is so dilatory, and so 
 weak, and doubtful into the bargain ? 
 
 He succumbed in silence for two days ; and then, in 
 spite of Wylie's threat, he made one timid attempt to 
 approach the subject with Welch and Cooper, but a sailor 
 came up instantly, and sent them forward to reef top- 
 sails. And whenever he tried to enter into conversation 
 with the pair, some sailor or other was sure to come up 
 and listen. 
 
112 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Then he saw that he was spotted ; or, as we s^y now- 
 a-days, picketed. 
 
 He was at his wit's end. 
 
 He tried his last throw. He wrote a few lines to Miss 
 Eolleston, requesting an interview. Aware of the diffi- 
 culties he had to encounter here, he stilled his heart by 
 main force, aind wrote in terms carefully measured. He 
 begged her to believe he had no design to intrude upon 
 her, without absolute necessity, and for her own good. 
 Respect for her own wishes forbade this, and also his 
 ^elf-respect. 
 
 "But," said he, "I have made a terrible discovery. 
 The mate and the captain certainly intend to cast away 
 this ship. No doubt they will try and not sacrifice their 
 own lives and ours ; but risk them they must, in the 
 very nature of things. Before troubling you, I have 
 tried all I could, in the way of persuasion and menace ; 
 but am defeated. So now it rests with you. You, alone, 
 can save us all. I will tell you how, if you will restrain 
 your repugnance, and accord me a short interview. Need 
 I say that no other subject shall be introduced by me ? 
 In England, should we ever reach it, I may perhaps try 
 to take measures to regain your good opinion ; but here, 
 I am aware, that is impossible; and I shall make no 
 attempt in that direction, upon my honor." 
 
 To this there came a prompt and feminine reply. 
 
 The ship is Mr. Arthur Wardlaw's. The captain and the 
 mate are able men appointed by him ; I shall hand them your 
 letter ; and I request, sir, this may be your last communication 
 of any kind with 
 
 Helen Anne Rolleston. 
 
 That night Wylie came to his cabin and laid on the 
 table before him his letter to Miss Eolleston. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 113 
 
 " Now, lookye here, mate," said tte man, " what's to 
 be the game between you and me ? Has love for this 
 gal druT you off your head ? Take warning, and a last 
 one, mind ye ! If you stir your eye to cross my business, 
 I blow the gaff. I'll introduce you to the lady under 
 your true colors, and introduce your reverend ankles to 
 the irons atween decks ! What's got into ye ? " hissed 
 the mate, advancing his face close to Hazel's. And the 
 rogue looked down the honest man's eye that quailed 
 before him. When Hazel looked up, he was gone. 
 The poor fellow gazed on the letter, which Helen had 
 handed to the captain ; he saw that resistance was use- 
 less ; his eyes wandered about in despair ; his arms hung 
 listlessly by his sides. He was beaten. 
 
 His mental distress brought on an attack of that 
 terrible malady, jaundice. 
 
 He crept about, yellow as a guinea ; a very scarecrow. 
 
 He took no exercise; he ate little food. He lay, 
 listless and dejected, about the deck. 
 
 The ship now encountered an adverse gale, and, for 
 three whole days, was under close-reefed topsails; she 
 was always a wet ship under stress of weather ; and she 
 took in a good deal of water on this occasion. On the 
 fourth day it feU calm, and Captain Hudson, having 
 examined the well, and found three feet of water, 
 ordered the men to the pumps. 
 
 After working through one watch, the well was sounded 
 again, and the water was so much reduced that the 
 gangs were taken off ; and the ship being now becalmed, 
 and the weather lovely, the men were allowed to dance 
 upon deck to the boatswain's fiddle. 
 
 While this pastime went on, the sun, large and red, 
 reached the horizon, and diffused a roseate light over the 
 entire ocean. 
 
 U"ot one of the current descriptions of heaven approach 
 8 
 
114 FOTJIi PLAY. 
 
 the actual grandeur and beauty of the blue sky flecked 
 with ruby and gold, and its liquid mirror that lay below, 
 calm, dimpled, and glorified by that translucent, rosy 
 tint. 
 
 While the eyes were yet charmed with this enchanting 
 bridal of the sea and sky, and the ear amused with the 
 merry fiddle and the nimble feet that tapped the sound- 
 ing deck so deftly at every note, Cooper, who had been 
 sounding the well, ran forward all of a sudden, and flung 
 a thunderbolt in the midst. 
 
 "A Leak I" 
 
FOUL PLAY. 115 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The fiddle ended in mid-tune, and the men crowded 
 aft with anxious faces. 
 
 The captain sounded the well, and found three feet 
 and a half water in it. He ordered all hands to the 
 pumps. 
 
 They turned to with a good heart, and pumped, watch 
 and watch, till daybreak. 
 
 Their exertions counteracted the leak, but did no 
 more ; the water in the well was neither more nor less 
 perceptibly. This was a relief to their miuds, so far; 
 but the situation was a yery serious one. Suppose foul 
 weather should come, and the vessel ship water from 
 above as well. 
 
 Now all those who were not on the pumps, set to work 
 to find out the leak and stop it if possible. "With candles 
 in their hands, they crept about the ribs of the ship, 
 narrowly inspecting every comer, and applying their 
 ears to every suspected place, if haply they might hear 
 the water coming in. The place where Hazel had found 
 Wylie at work was examined, along with the rest ; but 
 neither there nor anywhere else could the leak be dis- 
 covered. Yet the water was still coming in, and required 
 unremitting labor to keep it under. It was then suggested 
 hy Wylie, and the opinion gradually gained ground, that 
 some of the seams had opened in the late gale, and were 
 letting in the water by small but numerous apertures. 
 
 Paces began to look cloudy ; and Hazel, throwing off 
 his lethargy, took his spell at the main pump with the 
 rest. 
 
116 FOUIi PLAT. 
 
 When his gang was relieved he went away, bathed in 
 perspiration, and, leaning over the well, sounded it. 
 
 While thus employed, the mate came behind him, with 
 his cat-like step, and said, "See what has come on us 
 with your forebodings'! It is the unluckiest thing in 
 the world to talk about losing a ship when she is at sea." 
 
 "You are a more dangerous man on board a ship than 
 I am," was Hazel's prompt reply. 
 
 The well gave an increase of three inches. 
 
 Mr. Hazel now showed excellent qualities. He worked 
 like a horse ; and, finding the mate skulking, he reproached 
 him before the men, and, stripping himself naked to the 
 waist, invited him to do a man's duty. The mate, thus 
 challenged, complied with a scowl. 
 
 They labored for their lives, and the quantity of water 
 they discharged from the ship was astonishing ; not less 
 than a hundred and ten tons every hour. 
 
 They gained upon the leak — only two inches ; but, in 
 the struggle for life, this was an immense victory. It 
 was the turn of the tide. 
 
 A light breeze sprung up from the southwest, and the 
 captain ordered the men from the buckets to make all 
 sail on the ship, the pumps still going. 
 
 When this was done, he altered the ship's course, and 
 put her right before the wind, steering for the island of 
 Juan Fernandez, which, though distant, was the nearest 
 known land. 
 
 Probably it was the best thing he could do, in that 
 awful waste of water. But its effect on the seamen was 
 bad. It was like giving in. They got a little disheart- 
 ened and flurried ; and the cold, passionless water seized 
 the advantage. It is possible, too, that the motion of the 
 ship through the sea aided the leak. 
 
 The Proserpine glided through the water all night, like 
 some terror-stricken creature, and the incessant pumps 
 
FOXTL PLAY. .117 
 
 seemed to be her poor heart beating loudly with breath- 
 less fear. 
 
 At daybreak she had gone a hundred and twenty 
 miles. But this was balanced by a new and alarming 
 feature. The water from the pumps no longer came up 
 pure, but mixed with what appeared to be blood. 
 
 This got redder and redder, and struck terror into the 
 more superstitious of the crew. 
 
 Even Cooper, whose heart was stout, leaned over the 
 bulwarks, and eyed the red stream, gushing into the sea 
 from the lee scuppers, and said aloud, "Ay, bleed to 
 death, ye bitch ! We shan't be long behind ye." 
 
 Hazel inquired, and found the ship had a quantity of 
 dyewood amongst her cargo ; he told the men this, and 
 tried to keep up their hearts by his words and his 
 example. 
 
 He succeeded with some : but others shook their 
 heads. And by and by, even while he was working 
 double tides, for them as well as for himself, ominous 
 murmurs met his ear. "Parson aboard !" "Man aboard, 
 with t'other world in his face ! " And there were sinister 
 glances to match. 
 
 He told this, with some alarm, to Welch and Cooper. 
 They promised to stand by him ; and Welch told him it 
 was all the mate's doing ; he had gone amongst the men, 
 and poisoned them. 
 
 The wounded vessel, with her ever-beating heart, had 
 run three hundred miles on the new tack. She had 
 almost ceased to bleed ; but what was as bad, or worse, 
 small fragments of her cargo and stores came up with 
 the water, and their miscellaneous character showed how 
 deeply the sea had now penetrated. 
 
 This, and their great fatigue, began to demoralize the 
 sailors. The pumps and buckets were stiU plied, but it 
 was no longer with -the ujnfprm manner of brave and 
 
118 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 hopeful men. Some stuck doggedly to their ■work, but 
 others got flurried, and ran from one thing to another. 
 Now and then a man would stop, and burst out crying ; 
 then to work again in a desperate way. One or two lost 
 heart altogether, and had to be driven. Finally, one or 
 two succumbed under ±he unremitting labor. Despair 
 crept over others : their features began to change, so 
 much so, that several countenances were hardly recogniz- 
 able, and each, looking in the other's troubled face, saw 
 his own fate pictured there. 
 
 Six feet water in the hold ! 
 
 The captain, who had been sober beyond his time, now 
 got dead drunk. 
 
 The mate took the command. On hearing this, Welch 
 and Cooper left the pumps. Wylie ordered them back. 
 They refused, and coolly lighted their pipes. A violent 
 altercation .took place, which was brought to a close by 
 Welch. 
 
 " It is no use pumping the ship," said he. " She is 
 doomed. D'ye think we are blind, my mate and me ? 
 You got the long-boat ready for yourself before ever the 
 leak was sprung. Now get the cutter ready for my mate 
 and me." 
 
 At these simple words Wylie lost color, and walked 
 aft without a word. 
 
 Next day there were seven feet water in the hold, and 
 quantities of bread coming up through the pumps. 
 
 Wylie ordered the men from the pumps to the boats. 
 The long-boat was provisioned and lowered. While she 
 was towing astern, the cutter was prepared, and the ship 
 left to fill. 
 
 All this time Miss EoUeston had been kept in the 
 dark, pot as to the danger, but as to its extent. Great 
 was her surprise when Mr. Hazel entered her cabin, and 
 cast an ineffable look of pity on her. 
 
POUL PLAT. 119 
 
 She looked up surprised, and then angry. " How dare 
 you ? " she began. 
 
 He waved his hand in a sorrowful but commanding 
 way. "Oh, this is no time for prejudice or temper. 
 The ship is sinking : we are going into the boats. Pray 
 make your preparations. Here is a list I have written 
 of the things you ought to take : we may be weeks at 
 sea, in an open boat." 
 
 Then, seeing her dumfounded, he caught up her carpet- 
 bag, and threw her workbox into it for a beginning. He 
 then laid hands upon some of her preserved meats, and 
 marmalade, and carried them off to his own cabin. 
 
 His mind then flew back to his reading, and passed in 
 rapid review all the wants that men had endured in open 
 boats. 
 
 He got hold of Welch, and told him to be sure and see 
 there was plenty of spare canvas on board, and sailing 
 needles, scissors, etc. : also three bags of biscuit, and, 
 above all, a cask of water. 
 
 He himself ran all about the ship, including the mate's 
 cabin, in search of certain tools he thought would be 
 wanted. 
 
 Then to his own cabin, to fill his carpet-bag. 
 
 There was little time to spare ; the ship was low in 
 the water, and the men abandoning her. He flung the 
 things into his bag, fastened and locked it, strapped up 
 his blankets for her use, flung on his pea-jacket, and ran 
 across to the starboard side. There he found the captain 
 lowering Miss Eolleston, ^ith due care, into the cutter, 
 and the young lady crying; not at being shipwrecked, 
 but at being deserted by her maid. Jane Holt, at this 
 trying moment, had deserted her mistress for her hus- 
 band. This was natural ; but, as is the rule with persons 
 of that class, she had done it in the silliest and cruellest 
 way. Had she given half-an-hour's notice of her inten- 
 
120 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 tion, Donovan miglit have been on board the cutter with 
 her and her mistress. But no ; being a liar and a fool, 
 she must hide her husband to the last moment, and then 
 desert her mistress. The captain, then, was comforting 
 Miss EoUeston, and telling her she should have her maid 
 with her eventually, when Hazel came ; he handed down 
 his own bag, and threw the blankets into the stem- 
 sheets ; then went down himself, and sat on the midship 
 thwart. 
 
 " Shove off," said the captain ; and they fell astern. 
 
 But Cooper, with a boat-hook, hooked on to the long- 
 boat ; and the dying ship towed them both. 
 
 Five minutes more elapsed, and the captain did not 
 come down, so Wylie hailed him. 
 
 There was no answer. Hudson had gone into the 
 mate's cabin. Wylie waited a minute, then hailed again. 
 " Hy ! on deck there ! " 
 
 " Hullo ! " cried the captain, at last. 
 
 " Why didn't you come in the cutter ? " 
 
 The captain crossed his arms, and leaned over the 
 stern. 
 
 " Don't you know that Hiram Hudson is always the 
 last to leave a sinking ship ? " 
 
 " Well, you are the last," said Wylie. " So now come 
 on board the long-boat at once. I dare not tow in her 
 wake much longer, to be sucked in when she goes down." 
 
 " Come on board your craft, and desert my own ? " said 
 Hudson, disdainfully. " Know my duty to m'employers 
 better." 
 
 These words alarmed the mate. "Curse it all!" he 
 cried, "the fool has been and got some more rum. Fifty 
 guineas to the man that will shin up the tow-rope, and 
 throw that madman- into the sea ; then we can pick him 
 up. He swims like a cork." 
 
 A sailor instantly darted forward to the rope. But, 
 
POTJL PLAY. 121 
 
 unfortunately, Hudson heard this proposal, and it enraged 
 him. He got to his cutlass. The sailor drew the boat 
 under the ship's stem, but the drunken skipper flourished 
 his cutlass furiously over his head. "Board me? ye 
 pirates ! the first that lays a finger on my bulwarks, off 
 goes his hand at the wrist." Suiting the action to the 
 word, he hacked at the tow-rope so vigorously that it 
 gave way, and the boats fell astern. 
 
 Helen RoUeston uttered a shriek of dismay and pity. 
 " Oh, save him ! " she cried. 
 
 "Make sail!" cried Cooper; and, in a few seconds, 
 they got all her canvas set upon the cutter. 
 
 It seemed a hopeless chase for these shells to sail after 
 that dying monster with her cloud of canvas all drawing, 
 alow and aloft. 
 
 But it did not prove so. The gentle breeze was an 
 advantage to light craft, and the dying Proserpine was 
 full of water, and could only crawl. 
 
 After a few moments of great anxiety, the boats crept 
 up, the cutter on her port, and the long-boat on her star- 
 board quarter. 
 
 Wylie ran forward, and, hailing Hudson, implored him, 
 in the friendliest tones, to give himself a chance. Then 
 tried him by his vanity, "Come, and command the boats, 
 old fellow. How can we navigate them on the Pacific, 
 without you ? " 
 
 Hudson was now leaning over the taffrail utterly drunk. 
 He made no reply to the mate, but merely waved his cut- 
 lass feebly in one hand, and his bottle in the other, and 
 gurgled out, " Duty to m'employers." 
 
 Then Cooper, without a word, double reefed the cutter's 
 mainsail, and ordered Welch to keep as close to the ship's 
 quarter as he dare. Wylie instinctively did the same, 
 and the three craft crawled on, in solemn and deadly 
 silence, for nearly twenty minutes. 
 
122 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 The •wounded ship seemed to receive a death-blow. 
 She stopped dead, and shook. 
 
 The next moment she pitched gently forward, and her 
 bows went under the water, while her after-part rose into 
 the air, and revealed to those in the cutter two splintered 
 holes in her run, just below the water-line. 
 
 Welch started up and gripped Cooper by the shoulder ; 
 he pointed to the holes, from which the water was pour- 
 ing in jets. 
 
 The next moment her stern settled down; the sea 
 yawned horribly; the great waves of her own making 
 rushed over her upper deck ; and the lofty masts and 
 sails, remaining erect, went down with sad majesty into 
 the deep: and nothing remained but the bubbling and 
 foaming of the voracious water, that had swallowed up 
 the good ship and her cargo, and her drunken master. 
 
 All stood up in the boats, ready to save him. But the 
 suction of the timber leviathan drew him down. He 
 was seen no more in this world. 
 
 A loud sigh broke from every living bosom that wit- 
 nessed that terrible catastrophe. 
 
 It was beyond words : and none were uttered, except 
 by Cooper, who spoke so seldom ; yet now three words 
 of terrible import burst from him, and, uttered in his 
 loud deep voice, rang like the sunk ship's knell over the 
 still bubbling water, — 
 
 " Scuttled — by G-od ! " 
 
FOUL PLAY. 123 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 " Hold your tongue," said Weleh, with an oath, 
 
 Mr. Hazel looked at Miss RoUeston, and she at him. 
 It was a momentary glance, and her eyes sank directly, 
 and filled with patient tears. For the first few minutes 
 after the Proserpine went down, the survivors sat 
 benumbed, as if awaiting their turn to be ingulfed. 
 
 They seemed so little, and the Proserpine so big ; yet 
 she was swallowed before their eyes, like a crumb. 
 They lost, for a few moments, all idea of escaping. 
 
 But, true it is, that, " while there's life there's hope : " 
 and, as soon as their hearts began to beat again, their 
 eyes roved round the horizon, and their elastic minds 
 recoiled against despair. 
 
 This was rendered easier by the wonderful beauty of 
 the weather. There were men there, who had got down 
 from a sinking ship, into boats heaving and tossing 
 against her side in a gale of wind, and yet been saved : 
 and here all was calm and delightful. To be sure, in 
 those other shipwrecks, land had been near, and their 
 greatest peril was over when once the boats got clear of 
 the distressed ship without capsizing. Here was no 
 immediate peril ; but certain death menaced them, at an 
 uncertain distance. 
 
 Their situation was briefly this. Should it come on to 
 blow a gale, these open boats, small and loaded, could 
 not hope to live. Therefore they had two chances for 
 life, and no more : they must either make land, — or be 
 picked up at sea, — before the weather changed. 
 
 But how ? The nearest known land was the group of 
 
124 FOUIi PLAY. 
 
 islands called Juan Fernandez, and they lay somewhere 
 to leeward ; but distant more than one thousand miles : 
 and should they prefer the other chance, then they must 
 beat three hundred miles and more, to windward; for 
 Hudson, underrating the leak, as is supposed, had run 
 the Proserpine fully that distance out of the track of 
 trade. 
 
 Now the ocean is a highway — in law: but, in fact, it 
 contains a few highways, and millions of byways ; and 
 once a cockle-shell gets into those byways, small indeed 
 is its chance of being seen and picked up by any sea- 
 going vessel. 
 
 Wylie, who was leading, lowered his sail, and hesitated 
 between the two courses we have indicated. However, 
 on the cutter coming up with him, he ordered Cooper to 
 keep her head north-east, and so run all night. He then 
 made all the sail he could in the same direction, and soon 
 outsailed the cutter. When the sun went down, he was 
 about a mile ahead of her. 
 
 Just before sunset, Mr. Hazel made a discovery that 
 annoyed him very much. He found that Welch had put 
 only one bag of biscuit, a ham, a keg of spirit, and a 
 small barrel of water, on board the cutter. 
 
 He remonstrated with him sharply. Welch replied 
 that it was all right ; the cutter being small, he had put 
 the rest of her provisions on board the long-boat. 
 
 " On board the long-boat ! " said Hazel, with a look of 
 wonder. "You have actually made oui- lives depend 
 upon that scoundrel Wylie again. You deserve to be 
 flung into the sea. You have no forethought yourself.* 
 yet you will not be guided by those that have it." 
 
 Welch hung his head a little at these reproaches. 
 ( However, he replied, rather sullenly, that it was only for 
 one night ; they could signal the long-boat in the morn- 
 ing, and get the other bags, and the cask, out of Jier. 
 
EOXrii PLAY. 126 
 
 But Mr. Hazel was not to be appeased. "The morning! 
 Why, she sails three feet to our two. How do you know 
 he won't run away from us ? I never expect to get within 
 ten miles of him again. We know him ; and he knows 
 we know him." 
 
 Cooper got up, and patted Mr. Hazel on the shoulder 
 soothingly. " Boat-hook aft," said he to Welch. 
 
 He then, by an ingenious use of the boat-hook, and 
 some of the spare canvas, contrived to set out a studding- 
 sail on the other side of the mast. 
 
 Hazel thanked him warmly. "But, oh, Cooper! 
 Cooper ! " said he, " I'd give all I have in the world if 
 that bread and water were on board the cutter instead of 
 the long-boat." 
 
 The cutter had now two wings, instead of one ; the 
 water bubbling loud under her bows marked her increased 
 speed, and all fear of being greatly outsailed by her con- 
 sort began to subside. 
 
 A slight sea-fret came on, and obscured the sea in part; 
 but they had a good lantern and compass, and steered the 
 course exactly, all night, according to Wylie's orders, 
 changing the helmsman every four hours. 
 
 Mr. Hazel, without a word, put a rug round Miss 
 Eolleston's shoulders, and another roimd her feet. 
 
 " Oh, not both, sir, please," said she. 
 
 " Am I to be disobeyed by everybody ? " said he. 
 
 Then she submitted in silence, and in a certain obse- 
 quious way that was quite new, and well calculated to 
 disarm anger. 
 
 Sooner or later, aU slept, except the helmsman. 
 
 At daybreak, Mr. Hazel was wakened by a loud hail 
 from a man in the bows. 
 
 All the sleepers started up. 
 
 " Long-boat not in sight ! " 
 
 It was too true. The ocean was blank: not a sail, 
 large or small, in sight. 
 
126 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Many voices spoke at once. 
 
 " He has carried on till lie has capsized her." 
 
 «He has given us the slip." 
 
 Unwilling to believe so great a calamity, every eye 
 peered and stared all over the sea. In vain. Not a 
 streak that could be a boat's hull, not a speck that could 
 be a sail. 
 
 The little cutter was alone upon the ocean. Alone, 
 with scarcely two days' provisions, one thousand miles 
 from land, and four hundred miles to leeward of the 
 nearest sea-road. 
 
 Hazel, seeing his worst forebodings realized, sat down 
 in moody, bitter, and boding silence. 
 
 Of the other men some raged, and cursed. Some wept 
 aloud. 
 
 The lady, more patient, put her hands together, and 
 prayed to Him who made the sea, and all that therein 
 is. Yet her case was the cruellest. For she was by 
 nature more timid than the men, yet she must share 
 their desperate peril. And then to be alone with all 
 these men, and one of them had told her he loved her ! 
 Shame tortured this delicate creature, as well as fear. 
 Happy for her, that of late, and only of late, she had 
 learned to pray in earnest. " Qui precari novit, premi 
 potest, non potest opprimi." 
 
 It was now a race between starvation and drowning, 
 and either way death stared them in the face. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 127 
 
 CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 The long-boat was, at this moment, a hundred miles to 
 windward of the cutter. 
 
 The fact is, that Wylie, the evening before, had been 
 secretly perplexed as to the best course. He had decided 
 to run for the island ; but he was not easy under his own 
 decision; and, at night, he got more and more discon- 
 tented with it. Finally, at nine o'clock p.m., he suddenly 
 gave the order to luff, and tack ; and by daybreak he was 
 very near the place where the Proserpine went down : 
 whereas the cutter, having run before the wind all night, 
 was, at least, a hundred miles to leeward of him. 
 
 Not to deceive the reader, or let him, for a moment, 
 think we do business iu monsters, we will weigh this act 
 of Wylie's justly. 
 
 It was a piece of iron egotism. He preferred, for him- 
 self the chance of being picked up by a vessel. He 
 thought it was about a hair's-breadth better than running 
 for an island, as to whose bearing he was not very clear, 
 after aU. 
 
 But he was not sure he was taking the best or safest 
 course. The cutter might be saved, after all, and the 
 long-boat lost. 
 
 Meantime he was not sorry of an excuse to shake off 
 the cutter. She contained one man at least who knew 
 he had scuttled the Proserpine ; and therefore it was all 
 important to him to get to London before her, and receive 
 the two thousand pounds which w.as to be his reward 
 for that abominable act. 
 
 But the way to get to London before Mr. Hazel, or 
 
128 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 else to the bottom of the Pacific before him, was to get 
 back into the sea-road at all hazards. 
 
 He was not aware that the cutter's water and biscuit 
 were on board his boat ; nor did he discover this till noon 
 next day. And on making this fearful discovery, he 
 showed himself human: he cried out with an oath, 
 " What have I done ? I have damned myself to all 
 eternity ! " 
 
 He then ordered the boat to be put before the wind 
 again ; but the men scowled, and not one stirred a finger ; 
 and he saw the futility of this, and did not persist, but 
 groaned aloud : and then sat, staring wildly : finally, like 
 a true sailor, he got to the rum, and stupefied his agi- 
 tated conscience for a time. 
 
 While he lay drunk, at the bottom of the boat, his 
 sailors carried out his first instructions, beating south- 
 ward right in the wind's eye. 
 
 Five days they beat to windward, and never saw a 
 sail. Then it fell dead calm ; and so remained for three 
 days more. 
 
 The men began to suffer greatly from cramps, owing 
 to their number and confined position. During the calm, 
 they rowed all day, and with this, and a light westerly 
 breeze that sprung up, they got into the sea-road again : 
 but having now sailed three hundred and fifty miles to 
 the southward, they found a great change in the tem- 
 perature: the nights were so cold they were fain to 
 huddle together, to keep a little warmth in their 
 bodies. 
 
 On the fifteenth day of their voyage it began to rain 
 and blow, and then they were never a whole minute out 
 of peril. Hand forever on the sheet, eye on the waves, 
 to ease her at the right moment : and, with all this care, 
 the spray eternally flying half way over her mast, and 
 often a body of water making a clean breach over her, 
 
FOTJIi PLAY. 129 
 
 and the men baling night and day with their very hats, 
 or she could not have lived an hour. 
 
 At last, -when they were almost dead with wet, cold, 
 fatigue, and danger, a ship came in sight, and crept 
 slowly up, about two miles to windward of the distressed 
 boat. "With the heave of the waters they could see 
 little more than her sails ; but they ran up a bright ban- 
 danna handkerchief to their masthead ; and the ship made 
 them out. She hoisted Dutch colors, and — continued 
 her course. 
 
 Then the poor abandoned creatures wept, and raved, 
 and cursed, in their frenzy, glaring after that cruel, 
 shameless man, who could do such an act, yet hoist a 
 color, and show of what nation he was the native — and 
 the disgrace. 
 
 But one of them said not a word. This was Wylie. He 
 sat shivering, and remembered how he had abandoned 
 the cutter, and all on board. Loud sighs broke from his 
 laboring breast ; but not a word. Yet one word was ever 
 present to his mind ; and seemed written in fire on the 
 night of clouds, and howled in his ears by the wind — 
 Retribution ! 
 
 And now came a dirty night — to men in ships ; a fear- 
 ful night to men in boats. The sky black, the sea on 
 fire with crested billows, that broke over them every 
 minute; their light was washed out; their provisions 
 drenched and spoiled : bale as they would, the boat was 
 always filling. Up to their knees in water ; cold as ice, 
 bUuded with spray, deafened with roaring billows, they 
 tossed and tumbled in a fiery foaming heU of waters, 
 and still, though despairing, clung to their lives, and 
 baled with their hats unceasingly. 
 
 Day broke, and the first sight it revealed to them was 
 a brig to windward staggering along, and pitching under 
 close-reefed topsails. 
 9 
 
130 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 They started up, and waved their hats, and cried aloud. 
 But the wind carried their voices to leeward, and the 
 brig staggered on. 
 
 They ran up their little signal of distress ; hut still 
 the vessel staggered on. 
 
 Then the miserable men shook hands all round, and 
 gave themselves up for lost. 
 
 But, at this moment, the brig hoisted a vivid flag all 
 stripes and stars, and altered her course a point or two. 
 
 She crossed the boat's track a mile ahead, and her peo- 
 ple looked over the bulwarks, and waved their hats to 
 encourage those tossed and desperate men. 
 
 Having thus given them the weather gage, she hove-to 
 for them. 
 
 They ran down to her, and crept under her lee ; down 
 came ropes to them, held by friendly hands, and friendly 
 faces shone down at them : eager grasps seized each as 
 he went up the ship's side, and so, in a very short time, 
 they sent the woman up, and the rest being all sailors, 
 and clever as cats, they were safe on board the whaling 
 brig Maria, Captain Slocum, of Nantucket, U. S. 
 
 Their log, compass, and instruments were also saved. 
 
 The boat was cast adrift, and was soon after seen 
 bottom upwards on the crest of a wave. 
 
 The good Samaritan in command of the Maria supplied 
 them with dry clothes out of the ship's stores, good food, 
 and medical attendance, which was much needed, their 
 legs and feet being in a deplorable condition, and their 
 own surgeon crippled. 
 
 A south-easterly gale induced the American skipper 
 to give Cape Horn a wide berth, and the Maria soon 
 found herself three degrees south of that perilous coast. 
 There she encountered field-ice. In this labyrinth they 
 dodged and worried for eighteen days, until a sudden 
 chop in the wind gave the captain a chance of which he 
 
FOTTL PLAY. 131 
 
 promptly availed himself, and in forty hours sighted 
 Terra del Fuego. 
 
 During this time, the rescued crew, having recovered 
 from the effects of their hardships, fell in to the work 
 of the ship, and took their turns with the Yankee sea- 
 men. The brig was short-handed; but trimmed and 
 handled by a full crew, — and the Proserpine's men, 
 who were first-class seamen, worked with a will because 
 work was no longer a duty, — she exhibited a speed the 
 captain had almost forgotten was in the craft. Now 
 speed at sea means economy, for every day added to a 
 voyage is so much off the profits. Slocimi was part 
 owner of the boat, and shrewdly alive to the value of 
 the seamen. When about three hundred miles south of 
 Buenos Ayres, Wylie proposed that they should be landed 
 there, from whence they might be transhipped to a vessel 
 boimd for home. This was objected to by Slocimi, on 
 the ground that by such a deviation from his course he 
 must lose three days, and the port dues at Buenos Ayres 
 were heavy. 
 
 Wylie undertook that the house of Wardlaw and Son 
 should indemnify the brig for all expenses and losses 
 incurred. 
 
 Still the American hesitated ; at last he honestly told 
 Wylie he wished to keep the men ; he liked them, they 
 liked him. He had sounded them, and they had no 
 objection to join his ship, and sign articles for a three 
 years' whaling voyage, provided they did not thereby 
 forfeit the wages to which they would be entitled on 
 reaching Liverpool. Wylie went forward and asked the 
 men if they would take service with the Yankee captain. 
 All but three expressed their desire to do so ; these three 
 had families in England, and refused. The mate gave 
 the others a release, and an order on Wardlaw and Co. 
 for their full wages for the voyage; then they signed 
 
132 FOTJIi PLAY. 
 
 articles with Captain Slocum, and entered the American 
 Mercantile Navy. 
 
 Two days after this they sighted the high lands at the 
 mouth of the Eio de la Plata at ten p.m., and lay-to for 
 a pilot. After three hours' delay they were boarded by 
 a pilot-boat, and then began to creep into the port. The 
 night was very dark, and a thin white fog lay on the 
 water. 
 
 Wylie was sitting on the taffrail, and conversing with 
 Slocum, when the look-out forward sung out, " Sail ho ! " 
 
 Another voice almost simultaneously yelled out of the 
 fog, " Port your helm ! " 
 
 Suddenly, out of the mist, and close aboard the Maria, 
 appeared the hull and canvas of a very large ship. The 
 brig was crossing her course, and the ship's great bow- 
 sprit barely missed the brig's mainsail. It stood for a 
 moment over Wylie's head. He looked up, and there 
 was the figure-head of the ship looming almost within 
 his reach. It was a colossal green woman; one arm 
 extended grasped a golden harp, the other was pressed 
 to her head in the attitude of holding back her wild and 
 flowing hair. The face seemed to glare down upon the 
 two men: in another moment the monster, gliding on, 
 just missing the brig, was lost in the fog. 
 
 "That was a narrow squeak," said Slocum. 
 
 Wylie made no answer, but looked into the darkness 
 after the vessel. 
 
 He had recognized her figure-head. 
 
 It was the Shannon. 
 
FOUIi PLAY. 133 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Before the Maria sailed again with, the men who 
 formed a part of Wylie's crew, he made them sign a 
 declaration before the English Consul at Buenos Ayres. 
 This document set forth the manner in which the Proser- 
 pine foundered ; it was artfully made up of facts, enough 
 to deceive a careless listener ; but when Wylie read it 
 over to them, he slurred over certain parts, which he 
 took care, also, to express in language above the compre- 
 hension of such men. Of course, they assented eagerly 
 to what they did not understand, and signed the state- 
 ment conscientiously. 
 
 So Wylie and his three men were shipped on board 
 the Boadicea, bound for Liverpool, in Old England, while 
 the others sailed with Captain Slocum, for Nantucket, in 
 New England. 
 
 The Boadicea was a clipper, laden with hides and a 
 miscellaneous cargo. Eor seventeen days she flew before a 
 southerly gale, being on her best sailing point, and after 
 one of the shortest passages she had ever made, she lay-to 
 outside the bar, off the Mersey. It wanted but one hour 
 to daylight, the tide was flowing ; the pilot sprang aboard. 
 
 "What do -you draw ? " he asked of the master. 
 
 " Fifteen feet, barely," was the reply. 
 
 " That will do," and the vessel's head was laid for the 
 river. 
 
 They passed a large barque, with her top-sails backed. 
 
 "Ay," remarked the pilot, "she has waited since the 
 half-ebb ; there ain't more than four hours in the twenty- 
 four that such craft as that can get in." 
 
134 FOUIi PLAY. 
 
 " What is she ? An American liner ? " aske4 Wylie, 
 peering through the gloom. 
 
 " No," said the pilot ; " she's an Australian ship. The 
 Shannon, from Sydney." 
 
 The mate started, looked at the man, then at the 
 vessel. Twice the Shannon had thus met him, as if to 
 satisfy him that his object had been attained, and each 
 time she seemed to him not an inanimate thing, but a 
 silent accomplice. A chill of fear struck through the 
 man's frame as he looked at her. Yes, there she lay, 
 and in her hold were safely stowed a hundred and sixty 
 thousand pounds in gold, marked lead and copper. 
 
 Wylie had no luggage nor effects to detain him on 
 board ; he landed, and having bestowed his three com- 
 panions in a sailors' boarding-house, he was hastening to 
 the shipping agents of Wardlaw and Son to announce 
 his arrival and the fate of the Proserpine. He had 
 reached their of&ces in Water Street before he recollected 
 that it was barely half-past five o'clock, and though 
 broad daylight on that July morning, merchants' offices 
 are not open at that hour. The sight of the Shannon 
 had so bewildered him that he had not noticed that the 
 shops were all shut, the streets deserted. Then a thought 
 occurred to him — why not be the bearer of his own 
 news ? He did not require to turn the idea twice over, 
 but resolved for many reasons to adopt it. As he hurried 
 to the railway station, he tried to recollect the hour at 
 which the early train started; but his confused and 
 excited mind refused to perform this function of 
 memory. The Shannon dazed him. 
 
 At the railway-station he found that a train had started 
 at four A.M., and there was nothing until seven-thirty. 
 This check sobered him a little, and he went back to the 
 docks : he walked out to the further end of that noble 
 line of berths, and sat down on the verge with his legs 
 
FOUL PLAT. 135 
 
 dangling over the water. He waited an hour: it was 
 six o'clock by the great dial at St. George's Dock. His 
 eyes were fixed on the Shannon, which was moving 
 slowly up the river ; she came abreast to where he sat. 
 The few sails requisite to give her steerage, fell. Her 
 anchor-chain rattled, and she swung rouud with the tide. 
 The clock struck the half-hour : a boat left the side of 
 the vessel, and made straight for the steps near where 
 he was seated. A tall, noble looking man sat in the 
 stern sheets, beside the coxswain ; he was put ashore, 
 and, after exchanging a few words with the boat's crew, 
 he mounted the steps which led him to Wylie's side, 
 followed by one of the sailors, who carried a portmanteau. 
 
 He stood for a single moment on the quay, and stamped 
 his foot on the broad stones ; then heaving a deep sigh 
 of satisfaction, he murmured, — " Thank God ! " 
 
 He turned towards Wylie. 
 
 " Can you tell me, my man, at what hour the first train 
 starts for London ? " 
 
 " There is a slow train at seven-thirty, and an express 
 at nine." 
 
 " The express will serve me, and give me time for 
 breakfast at the Adelphi. Thank you — good morn- 
 ing;" and the gentleman passed on, followed by the 
 sailbr. 
 
 Wylie looked after him ; he noted that erect military 
 carriage, and crisp, gray hair, and thick white mus- 
 tache : he had a vague idea that he had seen that face 
 before, and the memory troubled him. 
 
 At seven-thirty Wylie started for London ; the military 
 man followed him in the express at nine, and caught Mm 
 up at Watford ; together they arrived at the station at 
 Euston Square ; it wanted a quarter to three. Wylie 
 hailed a cab, but, before he could struggle through the 
 crowd to reach it, a railway porter threw a portmanteau 
 
136 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 on its roof, and his military acquaintance took posses- 
 sion of it. 
 
 " All right," said the porter. " What address, sir ? " 
 
 Wylie did not hear what the gentleman said, but the 
 porter shouted it to the cabman, and then he did hear it. 
 
 " No. — , Russell Square." 
 
 It was the house of Arthur Wardlaw ! 
 
 Wylie took off his hat, rubbed his frouzy hair, and 
 gaped after the cab. 
 
 He entered another cab and told the driver to go to 
 "No. — , Feuchurch Street." 
 
 It was the office of Wardlaw and Son. 
 
FOUL PLAT. 137 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 OuB scene now changes from the wild ocean and its 
 perils, to a snug room in Fenchurch Street; the inner 
 office of Wardlaw and Son: a large apartment, panelled 
 with fine old mellow Spanish oak ; and all the furniture 
 in keeping: the carpet, a thick Axminster of sober 
 colors ; the chairs, of oak and morocco, very substan- 
 tial; a large office table, with oaken legs like very 
 columns, substantial ; two Mihier safes ; a globe of un- 
 usual size, with a handsome tent over it, made of roan 
 leather, figured; the walls hung with long oak boxes, 
 about eight inches broad, containing rolled maps of 
 high quality, and great dimensions; to consult which, 
 oaken sceptres tipped with brass hooks stood ready: 
 with these, the great maps could be drawn down and 
 inspected; and, on being released, flew up into their 
 wooden boxes again. Besides these were hung up a few 
 drawings, representing outlines, and inner sections, of 
 vessels : and on a smaller table, lay models, almanacs, 
 etc. The great office-table was covered with writing 
 materials and papers^ all but a square space enclosed 
 with a little silver rail, and inside that space lay a pur- 
 ple morocco case about ten inches square : it was locked, 
 and contained an exquisite portrait of Helen EoUeston. 
 
 This apartment was so situated, and the frames of the 
 plate glass windows so well made and substantial, that, 
 let a storm blow a thousand ships ashore, it could not be 
 felt, nor heard, in Wardlaw's inner office. 
 
 But appearances are deceitful ; and who can wall out 
 a sea of troubles, and the tempests of the mind? 
 
138 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 The inmate of that ofBce was battling for his com- 
 mercial existence, under accumulated difficulties and 
 dangers. Like those who sailed the Proserpine's long- 
 boat upon that dirty night, which so nearly swamped 
 her, his eye had now to be on every wave, and the sheet 
 forever in his hand. 
 
 His measures had been ably taken ; but, as will hap- 
 pen when clever men are driven into a corner, he had 
 backed events rather too freely against time; had 
 allowed too slight a margin for unforeseen delays. For 
 instance, he had averaged the Shannon's previous per- 
 formances, and had calculated on her arrival too nicely. 
 She was a fortnight overdue, and that delay brought 
 peril. 
 
 He had also counted upon getting news of the Proser- 
 pine. But not a word had reached Lloyds' as yet. 
 
 At this very crisis came the panic of '66. Overend 
 and Gurney broke ; and Wardlaw's experience led him 
 to fear that, sooner or later, there would be a run on 
 every bank in London. Now he had borrowed eighty 
 thousand pounds at one bank, and thirty-five thousand 
 pounds at another: and, without his ships, could not 
 possibly pay a quarter of the money. If the banks in 
 question were run upon, and obliged to call in all their 
 resources, his credit must go ; and this, in his precarious 
 position, was ruin. 
 
 He had concealed his whole condition from his father, 
 by false book-keeping. Indeed, he had only two confi- 
 dants in the world; poor old Michael Penfold, and 
 Helen KoUeston's portrait ; and even to these two he 
 made half confidences. He dared not tell either of 
 them all he had done, and all he was going to do. 
 
 His redeeming feature was as bright as ever. He 
 still loved Helen EoUeston with a chaste, constant, and 
 ardent affection, that did him honor. He loved money 
 
FOUL PLAY. 139 
 
 too well : but lie loved Helen better. In all his troubles 
 and worries, it was his one consolation, to unlock her 
 portrait, and gaze on it, and purify his soul for a few 
 minutes. Sometimes he would apologize to it, for an 
 act of doubtful morality. " How can I risk the loss of 
 you ? " was his favorite excuse. No : he must have 
 credit. He must have money. She must not suffer by 
 his past imprudences. They must be repaired, at any 
 cost — for her sake. 
 
 It was ten o'clock in the morning : Mr. Penfold was 
 sorting the letters for his employer, when a buxom 
 young woman rushed into the outer office, crying " Oh, 
 Mr. Penfolds ! " and sank into a chair breathless. 
 
 " Dear heart ! what is the matter now ? said the old 
 gentleman. 
 
 "I have had a dream, sir: I dreamed I saw Joe 
 Wylie out on the seas, in a boat ; and the wind it was 
 a-blowing and the sea a-roaring to that degree as Joe 
 looked at me, and says he, ' Pray for me, Nancy Rouse.' 
 
 " So I says, ' Oh dear, Joe, what is the matter ? and 
 whatever is become of the Proserpines ? ' 
 
 " Says he again, ' Pray for me, Nancy Rouse ! ' With 
 that, I tries to pray in my dream, and screams instead, 
 and wakes myself. Mr. Penfolds, do tell me, have 
 you got any news of the Proserpines this morning ? " 
 
 " What is that to you ? " inquired Arthur Wardlaw, 
 who had entered just in time to hear this last query. 
 
 " What is it to me ! " cried Nancy, firing up ; " it 
 is more to me, perhaps, than it is to you, for that 
 matter." 
 
 Penfold explained timidly, "Sir, Mrs. Rouse is my 
 landlady." 
 
 " Which I have never been to church with any man 
 yet of the name of Rouse, leastways, not in my waking 
 hours," edged in the lady. 
 
140 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 " Miss Eouse, I sliould say," said Penf old, apologiz- 
 ing. "I beg pardon, but I thought Mrs. might sound 
 better in a landlady. Please, sir, Mr. Wylie the mate of 
 the Proserpine is her — her — sweetheart." 
 
 "Not he. Leastways, he is only on trial, after a 
 manner." 
 
 " Of course, sir — only after a manner," added Penf old, 
 sadly perplexed. " Miss Eouse is incapable of anything 
 else. But, if you please, m'm, I don't presume to know 
 the exact relation : " — and then with great reserve — 
 " but, you know you are anxious about him." 
 
 Miss Eouse sniffed, and threw her nose in tlie air — 
 as if to throw a doubt even on that view of the matter. 
 
 " Well, madam," said Wardlaw, " I am sorry to say I 
 can give you no information. I share your anxiety, for 
 I have got a hundred and sixty thousand pounds of gold 
 in the ship. You might inquire at Lloyds'. Direct her 
 there, Mr. Penfold, and bring me my letters." 
 
 With this he entered his inner office, sat down, took 
 out a golden key, opened the portrait of Helen, gazed at 
 it, kissed it, uttered a deep sigh, and prepared to face 
 the troubles of the day. 
 
 Penfold brought in a leathern case, like an enor- 
 mous bill-book : it had thirty vertical compartments : 
 and the names of various cities and sea-ports, with 
 which Wardlaw and Son did business, were printed in 
 gold letters on some of these compartments ; on others, 
 the names of persons ; and on two compartments, the 
 word "Miscellaneous." Michael brought this machine 
 in, filled with a correspondence, enough to break a man's 
 heart to look at. 
 
 This was one of the consequences of Wardlaw's posi- 
 tion. He durst not let his correspondence be read, and 
 filtered, in the outer office : he opened the whole mass ; 
 sent some back into the outer office: then touched a 
 
FOUL PLAY. 141 
 
 hand-bell, and a man emerged from the small apartment 
 adjoining his own. This was Mr. Atkins, his short-hand 
 ■writer. He dictated to this man some twenty letters, 
 which were taken down in short-hand ; the man retired 
 to copy them, and write them out in duplicate from his 
 own notes, and this reduced the number to seven : these 
 Wardlaw sat down to write, himself, and lock up the 
 copies. 
 
 While he was writing them, he received a visitor or 
 two, whom he despatched as quickly as his letters. 
 
 He was writing his last letter, when he heard in the 
 outer office a voice he thought he knew. He got up and 
 listened. It was so. Of all the voices in the city, this 
 was the one it most dismayed him to hear, in his office, 
 at the present crisis. 
 
 He listened on, and satisfied himself that a fatal blow 
 was coming. He then walked quietly to his table, seated 
 himself, and prepared to receive the stroke with external 
 composure. 
 
 Penf old announced, " Mr. Burtenshaw." 
 
 " Show him in," said Wardlaw quietly. 
 
 Mr. Burtenshaw, one of the managers of Morland's 
 bank, came in, and Wardlaw motioned him courteously 
 to a chair, while he finished his letter, which took only 
 a few moments. 
 
 While he was sealing it, he half turned to his visitor, 
 and said, " No bad news ? Morland's is safe, of course." 
 
 "Well," said Burtenshaw, "we could not hope to escape 
 the effects of the panic. There is a run upon our bank 
 — a severe one." 
 
 He then, after an uneasy pause, and with apparent 
 reluctance, added, "I am requested by the other directors 
 to assure you it is their present extremity alone, that — 
 in short, we are really compelled to beg you to repay the 
 amount advanced to you by the bank." 
 
142 EOUL PLAY. 
 
 Wardlaw slio-wed no alarm, but great surprise. This 
 was clever ; for lie felt great alarm, and no surprise. 
 
 " The eighty thousand pounds," said he. " Why, that 
 advance was upon the freight of the Proserpine. Torty- 
 five thousand ounces of gold. She ought to be here by this 
 time. She is in the Channel at this moment, no doubt." 
 
 "Excuse me; she is overdue, and the underwriters 
 uneasy. I have made inquiries." 
 
 " At any rate, she is fully insured, and you hold the 
 policies. Besides, the name of Wardlaw on your books 
 should stand for bullion." 
 
 Burtenshaw shook his head. " Names are at a discount 
 to-day, sir. We can't pay them across our counter. Why, 
 our depositors look cross at Bank of England notes." 
 
 To an inquiry, haK ironical, whether the managers 
 really expected him to find eighty thousand pounds cash, 
 at a few hours' notice, Burtenshaw replied, sorrowfully, 
 that they felt for his di£B.culty whilst deploring their 
 own ; but that, after all, it was a debt : and, in short, if 
 he could find no means of paying it they must suspend 
 payment for a time, and issue a statement — and — 
 
 He hesitated to complete his sentence, and. Wardlaw 
 did it for him. "And ascribe your suspension to my 
 inability to refund this advance ? " said he bitterly. 
 
 "I am afraid that is the construction it will bear." 
 
 Wardlaw rose, to intimate he had no more to say. 
 
 Burtenshaw, however, was not disposed to go without 
 some clear understanding. "May I say we shall hear 
 from you, sir?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 And so they wished each other good-morning; and 
 Wardlaw sank into his chair. 
 
 In that quiet dialogue, ruin had been inflicted and 
 received without any apparent agitation ; ay, and worse 
 than ruin — exposure. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 143 
 
 Morland's suspension, on account of money lost by 
 Wardlaw and Son, would at once bring old Wardlaw to 
 London, and tbe affairs of the firm would be investigated, 
 and the son's false system of bookkeeping be discov- 
 ered. 
 
 He sat stupefied awhile, then put on his hat, and rushed 
 to his solicitor ; on the way, he fell in with a great talker, 
 who told him there was a rumor the Shannon was lost in 
 the Pacific. 
 
 At this he nearly fainted in the street ; and his friend 
 took him back to his oflce in a deplorable condition. 
 All this time he had been feigning anxiety about the 
 Proserpine, and concealing his real anxiety about the 
 Shannon. To do him justice, he lost sight of every- 
 thing in the world now but Helen. He sent old Penfold 
 in hot haste to Lloyds', to inquire for news of the ship ; 
 and then he sat down sick at heart ; and all he could do 
 now was to open her portrait, and gaze at it through eyes 
 blinded with tears. Even a vague rumor, which he hoped 
 might be false, had driven all his commercial manoeuvres 
 out of him, and made all other calamities seem small. 
 
 And so they all are small, compared with the death of 
 the creature we love. 
 
 While he sat thus in a stupor of fear and grief, he 
 heard a well-known voice in the outer oflBice ; and, next 
 after Burtenshaw's, it was the one that caused him the 
 most apprehension. It was his father's. 
 
 Wardlaw senior rarely visited the oflce now ; and this 
 was not his hour. So Arthur knew something extraordi- 
 nary had brought him up to town. And he could not 
 doubt that it was the panic, and that he had been to 
 Morland's, or would go there in the course of the day ; 
 but, indeed, it was more probable that he had already 
 heard something, and was come to investigate. 
 
 Wardlaw senior entered the room. 
 
144 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 " Good-morning, Arthur," said he. " I've got good news 
 for you." 
 
 Arthur was quite startled by an announcement that 
 accorded so little with his expectations. 
 
 " Good news — for me ? " said he, in a faint, incredulous 
 tone. 
 
 " Ay, glorious news ! Haven't you been anxious about 
 the Shannon ? I have ; more anxious than I would 
 own." 
 
 Arthur started up. " The Shannon ! God bless you, 
 father." 
 
 " She lies at anchor in the Mersey," roared the old 
 man, with all a father's pride at bringing such good 
 news. " Why, the EoUestons will be in London at two- 
 thirty. See, here is his telegram." 
 
 There was hearty shaking of hands, and Arthur Ward- 
 law was the happiest man in London. 
 
 " Got the telegram at Elmtrees, this morning, and came 
 up by the first express." 
 
 The telegram was from Sir Edward RoUeston, 
 "Beached Liverpool last night, will be at Huston, two- 
 thirty." 
 
 "Not a word from her! " said Arthur. 
 
 " Oh, there was no time to write ; and ladies do not use 
 the telegram." He added slyly, " Perhaps she thought 
 coming in person would do as well, or, better, eh ? " 
 
 " But why does he telegraph you instead of me ? " 
 
 " I am sure I don't know. What does it matter ? Yes, 
 I do know. It is settled he and Helen are to come to 
 me at Elmtrees, so I was the proper person to telegraph. 
 I'll go and meet them at the station ; there is plenty of 
 time. But, I say, Arthur, have you seen the papers ? 
 Bartley Brothers obliged to wind up. Maple and Cox 
 of Liverpool gone, — Atlantic trading. Terry and Brown 
 suspended, — international credit gone. Old friends somQ 
 
FOUL PLAY. 145 
 
 of these. Hopley and Timms, railway contractors, failed, 
 sir; liabilities, seven hundred thousand pounds and more." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Arthur pompously; "1866 will long be 
 remembered for its revelations of commercial morality." 
 
 The old gentleman, on this, asked his son, with excus- 
 able vanity, whether he had done ill in steering clear of 
 speculation ; he then congratulated him on having listened 
 to good advice, and stuck to legitimate business. "I 
 must say, Arthur," added he, "your books are models for 
 any trading firm." 
 
 Arthur winced in secret under this praise, for it 
 occurred to him, that in a few days his father would 
 discover those books were all a sham, and the accounts 
 a fabrication. 
 
 However, the unpleasant topic was soon interrupted, 
 and effectually, too ; for Michael looked in with an air 
 of satisfaction on his benevolent countenance, and said, 
 "Gentlemen, such an arrival! Here is Nancy Eouse's 
 sweetheart that she dreamed was drowned." 
 
 " What is the man to me ? " said Arthur peevishly. 
 He did not recognize Wylie under that title. 
 
 " La, Mr. Arthur ! why, he is the mate of the Proser- 
 pine," said Penfold. 
 
 "What ! Wylie ! Joseph Wylie?" cried Arthur in a 
 sudden excitement that contrasted strangely with his 
 previous indifference. 
 
 "What is that ? " cried Wardlaw senior; "the Proser- 
 pine ! Show him in at once." 
 
 Now this caused Arthur Wardlaw considerable anxiety ; 
 for obvious reasons, he did not want his father and this 
 sailor to exchange a word together. However, that was 
 inevitable now : the door opened, and the bronzed face 
 and sturdy figure of Wylie, clad in a rough pearjacket, 
 came slouching in. 
 
 Arthur went hastily to meet him, and gave him an 
 10 
 
146 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 expressive look of warning, even while lie welcomed him 
 in cordial accents. 
 
 " Glad to see you safe home," said Wardlaw senior. 
 
 " Thank ye, guv'nor," said Wylie. " Had a squeak for 
 it, this time." 
 
 " Where is your ship ? " 
 
 Wylie shook his head sorrowfully. "Bottom of the 
 Pacific." 
 
 " Good heavens ! What ! is she lost ? " 
 
 "That she is, sir: foundered at sea, twelve hundred 
 miles from the Horn, and more." 
 
 " And the freight ? the gold ? " put in Arthur, with 
 well-feigned anxiety. 
 
 "Not an ounce saved," said Wylie, disconsolately. 
 "A hundred and sixty thousand pounds gone to the 
 bottom." 
 
 " Good heavens ! " 
 
 " Ye see, sir," said Wylie, " the ship encountered one 
 gale after another, and labored a good deal, first and last ; 
 and we all say her seams must have opened; for we 
 never could find the leak that sunk -her," and he cast a 
 meaning glance at Arthur Wardlaw. 
 
 " No matter how it happened," said the old merchant : 
 " are we insured to the full ? that is the first question." 
 
 "To the last shilling." 
 
 "Well done, Arthur." 
 
 "But, still, it is most unlucky. Some weeks must 
 elapse before the insurances can be realized, and a por- 
 tion of the gold was paid for in bills at short date." 
 
 " The rest in cash ? " 
 
 " Cash and merchandise." 
 
 " Then there is the proper margin. Draw on my pri- 
 vate account, at the Bank of England." 
 
 These few simple words showed the struggling young 
 merchalnt a way out of all his difficulties. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 147 
 
 His heart leaped so, he dared not reply, lest he should 
 excite the old gentleman's suspicions. 
 
 But, ere he had well drawn his breath for joy, came a 
 freezer. 
 
 "Mr. Burtenshaw, sir." 
 
 " Bid him wait," said Arthur aloud, and cast a look of 
 great anxiety on Penfold, which the poor old man, with 
 all his simplicity, comprehended well enough. 
 
 " Burtenshaw, from Morland's. What does he want 
 of us ? " said Wardlaw senior, knitting his brows. 
 
 Arthur turned cold all over. " Perhaps to ask me not 
 to draw out my balance. It is less than usual : but they 
 are run upon ; and, as you are good enough to let me 
 draw on you — by the by, perhaps you will sign a check 
 before you go to the station." 
 
 " How much do you want ? " 
 
 " I really don't know, till I have consulted Penfold : 
 the gold was a large and advantageous purchase, sir." 
 
 "No doubt; no doubt. I'll give you my signature; 
 and you can fill in the amount." 
 
 He drew a check in favor of Arthur Wardlaw, signed 
 it, and left him to fill in the figures. 
 
 He then looked at his watch, and remarked they would 
 only just have time to get to the station. 
 
 " Good heavens ! " cried Arthur ; " and I can't go. I 
 must learn the particulars of the loss of the Proserpine, 
 and prepare the statement at once for the underwriters." 
 
 "Well, never mind, /can go." 
 
 " But what will she think of me ? I ought to be the 
 first to welcome her." 
 
 " I'll make your excuses." 
 
 "No, no; say nothing: after all, it was you who 
 received the telegram : so you naturally meet her : but 
 you will bring her here, father: you won't whisk my 
 darling down to Elmtrees, till you have blessed me with 
 the sight of her ? " 
 
148 POUL PLAY. 
 
 " I -will not be so cruel, fond lover," said old Wardlaw, 
 laughing, and took up his hat and gloves to go. 
 
 Arthur went to the door with him, in great anxiety, 
 lest he should question Burtenshaw : but, peering into 
 the outer office, he observed Burtenshaw was not there. 
 Michael had caught his employer's anxious look, and 
 conveyed the banker Into the small room, where the 
 shorthand writer was at work. But Burtenshaw was 
 one of a struggling firm ; to him every minute was an 
 hour : he had sat, fuming with impatience, so long as he 
 heard talking in the inner office; and, the moment it 
 ceased, he took the liberty of coming in : so that he 
 opened the side door, just as Wardlaw senior was passing 
 through the centre door. 
 
 Instantly, Wardlaw junior whipped before him, to 
 hide his figure from his retreating father. 
 
 Wylie, who all this time had been sitting silent, 
 looking from one to the other, and quietly puzzling out 
 the game, as well as he could, observed this movement, 
 and grinned. 
 
 As for Arthur Wardlaw, he saw his father safe out, 
 then gave a sigh of relief, and walked to his office-table, 
 and sat down, and began to fill in the check. 
 
 Burtenshaw drew near, and said, " I am instructed to 
 say that fifty thousand pounds on account will be 
 accepted." 
 
 Perhaps if this proposal had been made a few seconds 
 sooner, the Ingenious Arthur would have availed himself 
 of it : but, as it was, he preferred to take the high and 
 mighty tone. "I decline any concession," said he. 
 " Mr. Penfold, take this check to the Bank of England. 
 Eighty-one thousand six hundred forty-seven pounds, 
 ten shillings. That is the amount, capital and interest, 
 up to noon this day : hand the sum to Mr. Burtenshaw, 
 taking his receipt, or, if he prefers it, pay it across the 
 
FOUL PLAY. 149 
 
 CQunter, to my credit. That ■will perhaps arrest the 
 run." 
 
 Birrtenshaw stammered out his thanks. 
 
 Wardla-w cut him short. "Good-morning, sir," said 
 he. "I have business of importance. Good-day," and 
 bowed him out. 
 
 " This is a highflyer," thought Burtenshaw. 
 
 Wardlaw then opened the side door, and called his 
 shorthand writer. 
 
 "Mr. Atkins, please step into the outer office, and 
 don't let a soul come in to me. Mind, I am out for the 
 day. Except to Miss Eolleston and her father." 
 
 He then closed all the doors, and sunk exhausted into 
 a chair, muttering, " Thank Heaven ! I have got rid of 
 them all for an hour or two. Now, Wylie." 
 
 Wylie seemed in no htirry to enter upon the required 
 subject. 
 
 Said he, evasively, " Why, guv'nor, it seems to me you 
 are among the breakers here, yourself." 
 
 " Nothing of the sort, if you have managed your work 
 cleverly. Come, tell me all, before we are interrupted 
 again." 
 
 "Tell ye all about it! Why, there's part on't I am 
 afraid to think on ; let alone talk about it." 
 
 "Spare me your scruples, and give me your facts," 
 said Wardlaw, coldly. " First of all, did you succeed in 
 shifting the bullion as agreed ? " 
 
 The sailor appeared relieved by this question. 
 
 "Oh, that is all right," said he. "I got the bullion 
 safe aboard the Shannon, marked for lead." 
 
 "And the lead on board the Proserpine ? " 
 
 " Ay, shipped as bullion." 
 
 "Without suspicion ? " 
 
 "Not quite." 
 
 "Great Heaven! Who?" 
 
160 FOtTL PLAY. 
 
 " One clerk at the shipping agent's scented something 
 queer, I think. His name was James Seaton." 
 
 " Could he prove anything ? " 
 
 "Nothing. He knew nothing for certain; and what 
 he guessed won't never be known in England now." 
 And Wylie fidgeted in his chair. 
 
 Notwithstanding this assurance, Wardlaw looked 
 grave, and took a note of that clerk's name. Then he 
 begged Wylie to go on. " Give me all the details," said 
 he. "Leave me to Judge their relative value. You 
 scuttled the ship ? " 
 
 " Don't say that ! don't say that ! " cried Wylie, in a 
 low but eager voice. "Stone walls have ears." Then 
 rather more loudly than was necessary, " Ship sprung a 
 leak, that neither the captain, nor I, nor anybody could 
 find, to stop. Me and my men, we all think her seams 
 opened, with stress of weather." Then, lowering his 
 voice again, "Try and see it as we do; and don't you 
 ever use such a word as that, what come out of your lips 
 just now." Then, raising his voice suddenly, "We 
 pumped her hard ; but 'twarn't no use. She filled, and 
 we had to take to the boats." 
 
 " Stop a moment. Was there any suspicion excited ? " 
 
 " Not among the crew : and suppose there was, I could 
 talk 'em all over, or buy 'em all over, what few of 'em is 
 left. I'll keep 'em all with me in one house : and they 
 are all square, don't you fear." 
 
 " Well, but you said ' among the crew ! ' Whom else 
 can we have to fear ? " 
 
 "Why, nobody. To be sure, one of the passengers 
 was down on me ; but what does that matter now ? " 
 
 " It matters greatly — it matters terribly. Who was 
 this passenger ? " 
 
 "He called himself the Rev. John Hazel. He sus- 
 pected something or ather; and what with listening 
 
'SHE WENT DOWN HEREABOUTS.' 
 
FOtJL PLAY. 151 
 
 here, and watching there, he judged the ship was never 
 to see England, and I always fancied he told the lady." 
 
 " What, was there a lady there ? " 
 
 "Ay, worse luck, sir; and a pretty girl she was: 
 coming home to England to die of consiunption ; so our 
 surgeon told me." 
 
 "Well, nevermind her. The clergyman! This fills 
 me with anxiety. A clerk suspecting us at Sydney, and 
 a passenger suspecting us in the vessel. There are two 
 witnesses against us already." 
 
 " No ; only one." 
 
 " How do you make that out ? " 
 
 "Why, White's clerk and the parson, they was one 
 man." 
 
 Wardlaw stared in utter amazement. 
 
 " Don't ye believe me ? " said Wylie. " I tell ye that 
 there clerk boarded us under an alias. He had shaved 
 off his beard; but, bless your heart, I knew him directly." 
 
 " He came to verify his suspicions," suggested Ward- 
 law, in a faint voice. 
 
 "Not he. He came for love of the sick girl, and 
 nothing else ; and you'll never see either him or her, if 
 that is any comfort to you." 
 
 " Be good enough to conceal nothing. Pacts must be 
 faced." 
 
 " That is too true, sir. Well, the ship went down in 
 latitude — But you have got a chart there before you. 
 She went down hereabouts." 
 
 " Why, that was a long way from land," said Arthur. 
 
 "Tou may say that, sir. Well, we abandoned her, 
 and took to the boats. I commanded one." 
 
 « And Hudson the other ? " 
 
 "Hudson! No." 
 
 " Why, how was that ? and what has become of him ? " 
 
 "What has become of Hudson?" said Wylie, with 
 
162 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 a start. " There's a question ! And not a drop to wet 
 my lips, and warm my heart. Is this a tale to tell, dry ? 
 Can't ye spare a, drop of brandy to a poor devil that has 
 earned ye a hundred and sixty thousand pounds, and 
 risked his life and wrecked his soul to do it ? " 
 
 Wardlaw cast a glance of contempt on him, but got 
 up, and speedily put a bottle of old brandy, a tumbler, 
 and a carafEe of water, on the table before him. 
 
 Wylie drank a wineglassful neat, and gave a sort of 
 sigh of satisfaction. And then ensued a dialogue, in 
 which, curiously enough, the brave man was agitated, 
 and the timid man was cool and collected. But one 
 reason was, the latter had not imagination enough to 
 realize things unseen, though he had caused them. 
 
 Wylie told him how Hudson got 'to the bottle, and 
 would not leave the ship. " I think I see him now, with 
 his outlass in one hand, and his rum bottle in the other, 
 and the waves running over his poor, silly face, as she 
 went down. Poor Hiram ! he and I had made many a 
 trip together, before we took to this ! " 
 
 And Wylie shuddered, and took another gulp at the 
 brandy. 
 
 While he was drinking to drown the picture, Wardlaw 
 was calmly reflecting on the bare fact. " Hum," said he, 
 " we must use that circumstance. I'll get it into the 
 journals. Heroic captain. Went down with the ship. 
 Who can suspect Hudson in the teeth of such a fact ? 
 Now, pray go on, my good Wylie. The boats ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, I had the surgeon, and ten men, and the 
 lady's maid, on board the long-boat; and there was the 
 parson, the sick lady, and five sailors aboard the cutter. 
 We sailed together, till night, steering for Juan Fer- 
 nandez ; then a fog came on, and we lost sight of the 
 cutter, and I altered my mind and judged it best to beat 
 to wln'ard, and get into the track of ships. Which we 
 
FOUL PLAY. 153 
 
 did, and were nearly swamped in a sou'wester ; but, by 
 good luck, a Yankee whaler picked us up, and took us to 
 Buenos Ayres, where we shipped for England, what was 
 left of us, only three, besides myself; but I got the 
 signatures of the others to my tale of the wreck. It is 
 all as square as a die, I tell you." 
 
 " Well done. Well done. But stop ! the other boat, 
 with that sham parson on board who knows all. She will 
 be picked up, too, perhaps." 
 
 "There is no chance of that. She was out of the 
 tracks of trade ; and, I'll tell ye the truth, sir " — He 
 poured out half a tumbler of brandy, and drank a part 
 of it ; and, now, for the first time, his hand trembled as 
 he lifted the glass. — " Some fool had put the main of 
 her provisions aboard the long-boat ; that is what sticks 
 to me, and won't let me sleep. We took a chance, but we 
 didn't give one. I think I told you there was a woman 
 aboard the cutter, that sick girl, sir. Oh, but it was hard 
 lines for her, poor thing ! I see her face, pale and calm ; 
 O Lord, so pale and calm ; every night of my life ; she 
 kneeled aboard the cutter with her white hands a-clasped 
 together, praying." 
 
 " Certainly, it is all very shocking," said Wardlaw ; 
 " but then, you know, if they had escaped, they would 
 have exposed us. Believe me, it is all for the best." 
 
 Wylie looked at him with wonder. "Ay," said he, 
 after staring at him a long time; "you can sit here at 
 your ease, and doom a ship, and risk her people's lives. 
 But if you had to do it, and see it, and then lie awake 
 thinking of it, you'd wish all the gold on earth had been 
 in hell, before you put your hand to such a piece of 
 work." 
 
 Wardlaw smiled a ghastly smile. " In short," said he, 
 "you don't mean to take the two thousand pounds I pay 
 you for this little job." 
 
164 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 "Oh, yes, I do; but for all tlie gold in Victoria, 1 
 wouldn't do such a job again. And, you mark my words, 
 sir, we shall get the money, and nobody will ever be the 
 wiser." — Wardlaw rubbed his hands complacently; his 
 egotism, coupled with his want of imagination, nearly 
 blinded him to everything but the pecuniary feature of 
 the business. — " But," continued Wylie, " we shall never 
 thrive on it. We have sunk a good ship, and we have 
 as good as murdered a poor dying girl." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, ye fool ! " cried Wardlaw, losing 
 his sangfroid in a moment, for he heard somebody at the 
 door. 
 
 It opened, and there stood a military figure in a 
 travelling cap — General KoUeston. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 165 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 As some eggs have actually two yolks, so Arthur 
 Wardlaw had two hearts ; and at sight of Helen's 
 father, the baser one ceased to beat for a while. 
 
 He ran to General RoUeston, shook him warmly by 
 the hand, and welcomed him to England with sparkling 
 eyes. 
 
 It is pleasant to be so welcomed, and the stately 
 soldier returned his grasp in kind. 
 
 " Is Helen with you, sir ? " said Wardlaw, making a 
 movement to go to the door : for he thought she must 
 be outside in the cab. 
 
 " No, she is not," said General Rolleston. 
 
 " There now," said Arthur, " that cruel father of mine 
 has broken his promise, and carried her off to Elmtrees." 
 
 At this moment Wardlaw senior returned, to tell 
 Arthur he had been just too late to meet the RoUestons. 
 "Oh, here he is!" said he; and there were fresh 
 greetings. 
 
 "Well, but," said Arthur, "where is Helen? " 
 
 "I think it is I who ought to ask that question," said 
 RoUeston, gravely. "I telegraphed you at Elmtrees, 
 thinking of course she would come with you to meet me 
 at the st&tion. It does not much matter, a few hours : 
 but her not coming makes me uneasy, for her health was 
 declining when she left me. How is my child, Mr. 
 Wardlaw ? Pray tell me the truth." 
 
 Both the Wardlaws looked at one another, and at 
 General Rolleston, and the elder Wardlaw said there 
 was certainly some misunderstanding here. 
 
156 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 "We fully believed tliat your daughter was coming 
 home with you in the Shannon." 
 
 " Come home with me ? Why, of course not. She 
 sailed three weeks before me. Has she not arrived ? " 
 
 "No," replied old Wardlaw, "we have neither seen 
 nor heard of her." 
 
 " Why, what ship did she sail in ? " said Arthur. 
 
 " In one of your own ships ^ the Proserpine." 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw fixed on the speaker a gaze full of 
 horror; his jaw fell ; a livid pallor spread over his fear 
 tures ; he echoed in a hoarse whisper, " The Proserpine ! " 
 and turned his scared eyes upon Wylie, who was himself 
 leaning against the wall, his stalwart frame beginning to 
 tremble. 
 
 " The sick girl," murmured Wylie, and a cold sweat 
 gathered on his brow. 
 
 General Rolleston looked from one to another with 
 strange misgivings, which soon deepened into a sense of 
 some terrible calamity ; for now a strong convulsion 
 swelled Arthur Wardlaw's heart ; his face worked fear- 
 fully ; and with a sharp and sudden cry, he fell forward 
 on the table, and his father's arm alone prevented him 
 from sinking like a dead man on the floor. Yet though 
 crushed and helpless, he was not insensible ; that bless- 
 ing was denied him. 
 
 General Rolleston implored an explanation. 
 
 Wylie, with downcast and averted face, began to stam- 
 mer a few disconnected and unintelligible words ; but 
 old Wardlaw silenced him, and said, with much feeling, 
 " Let none but a father tell him. My poor, poor friend — 
 The Proserpine ! How can I say it ? " 
 
 " Lost at sea," groaned Wylie. 
 
 At these fatal words the old warrior's countenance 
 •grew rigid; his large, bony hands gripped the back of 
 the chair, on which he leaned, and were white with their 
 
FOUL PLAY. 157 
 
 own convulsive force ; and lie bowed his head under the 
 blow, without one word. 
 
 His was an agony too great and mute to be spoken to ; 
 and there was silence in the room, broken only by the 
 hysterical moans of the miserable plotter, who had drawn 
 down this calamity on his own head. He was in no 
 state to be left alone; and even the bereaved father 
 found pity in his desolate heart for one who loved his 
 lost child so well ; and the two old men took him home 
 between them, in a helpless and pitiable condition. 
 
158 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 But this utter prostration of his confederate began to 
 alarm Wylie, and rouse him to exertion. Certainly, he 
 was very sorry for what he had done, and would have 
 undone it and forfeited his two thousand pounds in a 
 moment, if he could. But, as he could not undo the 
 crime, he was all the more determined to reap the reward. 
 Why, that two thousand pounds, for aught he knew, was 
 the price of his soul ; and he was not the man to let his 
 soul go gratis. 
 
 He finished the rest of the brandy, and went after his 
 men, to keep them true to him by promises; but the 
 next day he came to the office in Fenchurch Street, and 
 asked anxiously for Wardlaw. Wardlaw had not arrived. 
 He waited, but the merchant never came ; and Michael 
 told him, with considerable anxiety, that this was the 
 first time his young master had missed coming this five 
 years. 
 
 In course of the day, several underwriters came in, 
 with long faces, to verify the report which had now 
 reached Lloyds', that the Proserpine had foundered at 
 sea. 
 
 " It is too true," said Michael ; " and poor Mr. Wylie 
 here has barely escaped with his life. He was mate of 
 the ship, gentlemen." 
 
 Upon this, each visitor questioned Wylie, and Wylie 
 returned the same smooth answer to all inquiries : one 
 heavy gale after another had so tried the ship that her 
 seams had opened, and let in more water than all the 
 exertions of the crew and passengers could discharge; 
 
FOtJIi PLAT. 169 
 
 at last, they had taken to the boats; the long-boat had 
 been picked up: the cutter had never 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 had shipped on board the Maria, and three 
 were with him at Poplar, one disabled by the hard- 
 ships 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's sweetheart was aboard the ship. He is 
 a'most broken-hearted. He vallied her 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 as simple as he was cunning, silenced 
 remonstrance, and went far to disarm suspicion ; and so 
 pleased Michael Penfold, that he said, " Mr. Wylie, you 
 are interested in this business, would you mind going to 
 Mr. Wardlaw's house, and asking what we are to do 
 next ? I'll give you his address, a.nd a line, begging him 
 to make an effort and see you. Business is the heart's 
 best ointment. Eh, dear, Mr. Wylie, I have known 
 grief too; and I think I should have gone mad when 
 they sent my poor son away, but for business, especially 
 the summing-up of long columns, etc." 
 
 This commission suited Mr. Wylie, who was alarmed 
 on his own account at Arthur Wardlaw's absence from 
 business. He called at the house in Eussell 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, 
 
160 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 but I shan't make him any worse ; and Mr. Penfold says 
 I must see him. It is very particular I tell you. He 
 won't thank you for refusing me when he comes to hear 
 of it." 
 
 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 the dining-room, and 
 shortly reappeared, holding the door open. Out came, 
 not Wardlaw junior, Wardlaw senior. 
 
 " My son is in no condition to receive you," said he 
 gravely ; " but I am at your service. What is your busi- 
 ness ? " 
 
 Wylie was taken off his guard, and stammered out 
 something about the Shannon. 
 
 " The Shannon ! What have you to do with her ? 
 You belonged to the Proserpine." 
 
 " Ay, sir ; but I had his orders to ship forty chests of 
 lead and smelted copper on board the Shannon." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Ye see, sir," said Wylie, " Mr. Wardlaw was particu- 
 lar about them, and I feel 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 to look after them, and send them up at 
 once to my cellars in Fenchurch Street. Forty chests of 
 lead and copper, I think you said." And he took a note 
 of this directly. Wylie was not a little discomfited at 
 this unexpected turn things had taken ; but he held his 
 tongue now, for fear of making bad worse. Wardlaw 
 senior went on to say that he should have to conduct the 
 business of the firm for a time, in spite of his old age 
 and failing health. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 161 
 
 This announcement made Wylie perspire witli anxiety, 
 and his two thousand 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 aflicted friend has asked after you sev- 
 eral times. Be good enough to follow me." 
 
 He led the way into the dining-room, and there sat the 
 sad father in all the quiet dignity of calm, unfathomable 
 sorrow. 
 
 Another gentleman stood upon the rug with his back 
 to the fire, waiting for Mr. Wardlaw ; this was the family 
 physician, who had just come down from Arthur's bed- 
 room, and had entered by another door, through the 
 drawing-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 re- 
 duced the fever ; the symptoms of delirium have been 
 checked, and I think we shall escape brain fever, if he 
 is kept quite quiet. I could 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 RoUeston, and said, " Here is Wylie, 
 sir. Come forward, my man, and speak to the General. 
 He wants to know if you can point out to him on the 
 chart the very spot where 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, and rarely has a chart been examined as 
 this was, with the bleeding heart as well as the straining 
 eye. 
 11 
 
162 FOtTL PLAY. 
 
 The rough sailor became an oracle ; the others hung 
 upon his words, and followed his brown finger on the 
 chart with fearful interest. 
 
 " Ye see, sir," said he, addressing the old merchant, 
 for there was something on his mind that made him 
 avoid speaking directly to General Kolleston, " when we 
 came out of Sydney, the wind being south and by east, 
 Hudson took the easterly course, instead of running 
 through Cook's Straits. The weather freshened from the 
 same quarter, so that, with one thing and another, by when 
 we were a month out, she was five hundred miles or so 
 nor'ard of her true course. But that wasn't all ; when the 
 leak gained on us, Hudson ran the ship three hundred 
 miles by my reckoning to the nor'east ; and, I remember, 
 the day before she foundered, he told me she was in lati- 
 tude forty, and Easter Island bearing due north." 
 
 ".Here is the spot, then," said General EoUeston, and 
 placed his finger on the spot. 
 
 " Ay, sir," said Wylie, addressing the merchant ; " but 
 she ran about eighty-five miles after that, on an easterly 
 course — no — wind on her starboard quarter — and 
 being deep in the water, she'd make lee way — say 
 eighty-two miles, nor'east by east." 
 
 The General took eighty-two miles off the scale, with 
 a pair of dividers, and set out that distance on the chart. 
 He held the instrument fixed on the point thus obtained. 
 
 Wylie eyed the point, and after a moment's considerar 
 tion, nodded his head. 
 
 " There, or thereabouts," he said, in a low voice, and 
 looking at the merchant. 
 
 A pause ensued, and the two old men examined the 
 speck pricked on the map, as if it were the waters 
 covering the Proserpine. 
 
 " Now, sir," said RoUeston, " trace the course of the 
 boats ; " and he handed Wylie a pencil. 
 
FOtTL PLAT. 163 
 
 The sailor slowly averted his head, but stretched out 
 his hand and took it, and traced two lines, the one short 
 and straight, running nearly north-east. "That's the 
 way the cutter headed when we lost her in the night." 
 
 The other line ran parallel to the first for half an inch, 
 then turning, bent backwards, and ran due south. 
 
 " This was our course," said Wylie. 
 
 General Eolleston looked up, and said, " Why did you 
 desert 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 not reach either Juan 
 Fernandez or Valparaiso with our stock of provisions, 
 and insisted on standing for the sea track of Australian 
 liners between the Horn and Sydney." 
 
 This explanation was received in dead silence. Wylie 
 fidgeted, and his eye wandered round the room. 
 
 General Rolleston applied his compasses to the chart. 
 " I find that the Proserpine was not a thousand miles 
 from Easter Island. Why did you not make for that 
 land ? " 
 
 " We had no charts, sir," said Wylie to the merchant, 
 " and I'm no navigator." 
 
 " I see no land laid down hereaway, north-east of the 
 spot where the ship went down." 
 
 "No," replied Wylie, "that's what the men said when 
 they made me 'bout ship." 
 
 " Then why did you lead the way north-east 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 here talking to you about 
 this cursed business. And nobody offers me a drop of 
 anything." 
 
 Wardlaw poured him out a tumbler of wine. His 
 
164 FOITL PLAT. 
 
 brown hand trembled a little, and he gulped the wine 
 down like water. 
 
 General Rolleston gave Mr. Wardlaw a look, and 
 Wylie was dismissed. He slouched down the street 
 all in a cold perspiration ; but still clinging to his two 
 thousand pounds, though small was now his hope of ever 
 seeing it. 
 
 When he was gone. General EoUeston paced that large 
 and gloomy room in silence. Wardlaw eyed him with 
 the greatest interest, but avoided speaking to him. At 
 last he stopped short, and stood erect, as veterans halt, 
 and pointed down at the chart. 
 
 " I'll start at once for that spot," said he. " I'll go in 
 the next ship bound to Valparaiso : there I'll charter a 
 small vessel, and ransack those waters for some trace of 
 my poor lost girl." 
 
 " Can you think of no better way than that ? " said 
 old Wardlaw, gently, and with a slight tone of reproach. 
 
 " No — not at this moment. Oh, yes, by the by, the 
 Greyhound and Dreadnought are going out to survey the 
 islands of the Pacific. I have interest enough to get a 
 berth in the Greyhound." 
 
 " What ! go in a Government ship ! under the orders 
 of a man, under the orders of another man, under the 
 orders of a Board. Why, if you heard our poor girl was 
 alive upon a rock, the Dreadnought would be sure to run 
 up 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, and confronting the General, 
 and with the color mounting for once in his sallow face, 
 " you sail in no bottom but one freighted by Wardlaw 
 and Son, and the captain shall be under no orders but 
 yours. We have bought the steam sloop Springbok, 
 seven hundred tons. I'll victual her for a year, man 
 her well, and you shall go out in her in less than a week. 
 I give you my hand on that." 
 
FOUL PLAY. 166 
 
 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 son lies in danger, 
 yet your heart goes so with me — such goodness — it is 
 too much 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 of all. 
 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 of one age ; and this is a 
 heavy blow for us : and we are friends no more ; it has 
 made us brothers : she was to be my child as well as 
 yours ; well, now she is my child, and our hearts they 
 bleed together." At this, the truth must be told, the 
 two stout old men embraced one another like two women, 
 and cried together a little. 
 
 But that was soon over with such men as these. They 
 sat together and plunged into the details of the expedi- 
 tion, and they talked themselves into hope. 
 
 In a week the Springbok steamed down the Channel 
 on an errand inspired by love, not reason ; to cross one 
 mighty ocean, and grope for a lost daughter in another. 
 
166 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 We return to the cutter, and lier living freight. 
 
 After an anxious but brief consultation, it was agreed 
 that their best chance was to traverse as many miles of 
 water as possible, while the wind was fair : by this 
 means they would increase their small chance of being 
 picked up, and also of falling in with land, and would, 
 at all events, sail into a lovely climate where intense 
 cold was unknown, and gales of wind uncommon. 
 
 Mr. Hazel advised them to choose a skipper, and give 
 him absolute power, especially over the provisions. 
 They assented to this. He then recommended Cooper 
 for that post. But they had not fathomed the sterling 
 virtues of that taciturn seaman ; so they offered the 
 command to Welch, instead. 
 
 "Me put myself over Sam Cooper!" said he; "not 
 likely." 
 
 Then their choice fell upon Michael Morgan. The 
 other sailors' names were Prince, Fenner, and Mackintosh. 
 
 Mr. Hazel urged Morgan to put the crew and passen- 
 gers on short allowance at once, viz. : two biscuits a day, 
 and four table-spoonfuls of water: but Morgan was a 
 common sailor ; he could not see clearly very far ahead ; 
 and, moreover, his own appetite counteracted this advice; 
 he dealt out a pound of biscuit and an ounce of ham to 
 each person, night and morning, and a pint of water in 
 the course of the day. 
 
 Mr. Hazel declined his share of the ham, and begged 
 Miss Eolleston, so earnestly, not to touch it, that she 
 yielded a silent compliance. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 167 
 
 On the fourth day the sailors were all in good spirits, 
 though the provisions were now very low. They even 
 sang, and spun yarns. This was partly owing to the 
 beauty of the weather. 
 
 On the fifth day Morgan announced that he could only 
 serve out one biscuit per day : and this sudden decline 
 caused some dissatisfaction and alarm. 
 
 Next day, the water ran so low, that only a teaspoonf ul 
 was served out night and morning. 
 
 There were murmurs and forebodings. 
 
 In all heavy trials and extremities some man or other 
 reveals great qualities, that were latent in him, ay, hidden 
 from himself. And this general observation was verified 
 on the present occasion, as it had been in the Indian 
 mutiny, and many other crises. Hazel came out. 
 
 He encouraged the men, out of his multifarious stores 
 of learning ; he related at length stories of wrecks and 
 sufferings at sea; which, though they had long been in 
 print, were most of them new to these poor fellows. 
 He told them, among the rest, what the men of the 
 Bona Dea, waterlogged at sea, had suffered — twelve 
 days without any food but a rat and a kitten — yet had 
 all survived. He gave them some details of the Wager, 
 the Grosvenor, the Corbin, the Medusa; but, above all, a 
 most minute account of the Bounty, and Bligh's wonder- 
 ful voyage in an open boat, short of provisions. He 
 moralized on this, and showed his fellow-sufferers it was 
 discipline and self-denial from the first, that had enabled 
 those hungry spectres to survive, and to traverse two 
 thousand eight hundred miles of water, in those very 
 seas; and that in spite of hunger, thirst, disease, and 
 rough weather. 
 
 By these means he diverted their minds, in some 
 degree, from their own calamity, and taught them the 
 lesson they most needed. 
 
168 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 The poor fellows listened with more interest than you 
 could have thought possible under the pressure of bodily 
 distress. And Helen Eolleston's hazel eye dwelled on 
 the narrator with unceasing wonder. 
 
 Yes, learning and fortitude, strengthened by those 
 great examples learning furnishes, maintained a supe- 
 riority, even in the middle of the Pacific ; and not the 
 rough sailors only, but the lady, who had rejected and 
 scorned his love, hung upon the brave student's words ; 
 she was compelled to look up, with wonder, to the man 
 she had hated and despised in her hours of ease. 
 
 On the sixth day the provisions failed entirely. Not 
 a crust of bread : not a drop of water. 
 
 At four P.M., several flying fish, driven into the air by 
 the dolphins and catfish, fell into the sea again near the 
 boat, and one struck the sail sharply, and fell into the 
 boat. It was divided, and devoured raw, in a moment. 
 
 The next morning the wind fell, and, by noon, the 
 ocean became like glass. 
 
 The horrors of a storm have been often painted ; but 
 who has described, or can describe, the horrors of a 
 calm, to a boat-load of hungry, thirsty creatures, whose 
 only chances of salvation or relief are wind and rain ? 
 
 The beautiful, remorseless sky, was one vault of purple, 
 with a great flaming jewel in the centre, whose vertical 
 rays struck, and parched, and scorched the living suf- 
 ferers ; and blistered and baked the boat itself, so that 
 it hurt their hot hands to touch it: the beautiful, re- 
 morseless ocean was one sheet of glass, that glared in 
 their bloodshot eyes, and reflected the intolerable heat of 
 heaven upon these poor wretches, who were gnawed to 
 death with hunger ; and their raging thirst was fiercer 
 still. 
 
 Towards afternoon of the eighth day. Mackintosh 
 dipped a vessel in the sea, with the manifest intention 
 of drinking the salt water. 
 
FOUL PliAY. 169 
 
 " Stop Mm ! " cried Hazel, in great agitation ; and the 
 others seized him, and overpowered him : he cursed them 
 with such horrible curses, that Miss Rolleston put her 
 fingers in her ears, and shuddered from head to foot. 
 Even this was new to her, to hear foul language. 
 
 A calm voice rose in the midst, and said: "Let us 
 pray." 
 
 There was a dead silence, and Mr. Hazel kneeled down 
 and prayed loud and fervently: and, while he prayed, 
 the furious cries subsided for a while, and deep groans 
 only were heard. He prayed for food, for rain, for wind, 
 for patience. 
 
 The men were not so far gone but they could just 
 manage to say "Amen." 
 
 He rose from his knees, and gathered the pale faces of 
 the men together in one glance; and saw that intense 
 expression of agony, which physical pain can mould with 
 men's features : and then he strained his eyes over the 
 brassy horizon ; but no cloud, no veil of vapor was visible. 
 
 "Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink." 
 
 " We must be mad," he cried, " to die of thirst, with 
 all this water round us." 
 
 His invention being stimulated by this idea, and his 
 own dire need, he eagerly scanned everything in the 
 boat, and his eyes soon lighted on two objects, discon- 
 nected in themselves, but it struck him he could use 
 them in combination. These were a common glass bot- 
 tle, and Miss KoUeston's life-preserving jacket, that 
 served her for a couch. He drew this garment over his 
 knees, and considered it attentively ; then untwisted the 
 brass nozzle through which the jacket was inflated, and 
 so left a tube, some nine inches in length, hanging down 
 from the neck of the garment. 
 
170 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 He now applied his breath to the tube, and the jacket 
 swelling rapidly proved that the whole receptacle was 
 air-tight. 
 
 He then allowed the air to escape. Next, he took the 
 bottle and filled it with water from the sea; then he 
 inserted, with some difficulty, and great care, the neck of 
 the bottle into the orifice of the tube: this done, he 
 detached the wire of the brass nozzle, and whipped the 
 tube firmly round the neck of the bottle. 
 
 "Now, light a fire," he cried; "no matter what it 
 costs." 
 
 The fore thwart was chopped up, and a fire soon splut- 
 tered and sparkled, for ten eager hands were feeding it : 
 the bottle was then suspended over it, and, in due course, 
 the salt water boiled and threw off vapor, and the belly 
 of the jacket began to heave and stir. Hazel then threw 
 cold water upon the outside, to keep it cool, and while 
 the men eagerly watched the bubbling bottle and swell- 
 ing, bag, his spirits rose, and he took occasion to explain 
 that what was now going on under their eyes was, after 
 all, only one of the great processes of Nature done upon 
 a small scale. "The clouds," said he, "are but vapors 
 drawn from the sea, by the heat of the sun : these clouds 
 are composed of fresh water, and so the steam we are now 
 raising from salt water will be fresh. We can't make 
 whiskey, or brew beer, lads ; but, thank Heaven, we can 
 brew water ; and it is worth all other liquors ten times 
 told." 
 
 A wild " Hurrah ! " greeted these words. 
 
 But every novel experiment seems doomed to fail, or 
 meet with some disaster. The water in the bottle had 
 been reduced too low, by vaporization, and the bottle 
 burst suddenly, with a loud report. That report was 
 followed by a piteous wail. 
 
 Hazel turned pale at this fatal blow: but recovering 
 
FOUL PLAY, 171 
 
 himself, he said, " That is unfortunate ; but it was a 
 good servant while it lasted : give me the baler ; and, 
 Miss Eolleston, can you lend me a thimble ? " 
 
 The tube of the life preserver was held over the baler, 
 and out trickled a small quantity of pure water, two 
 thimblefuls apiece. Even that, as it passed over their 
 swollen tongues and parched swallows, was a heavenly 
 relief ; but, alas ! the supply was then exhausted. 
 
 Next day hunger seemed uppermost, and the men 
 gnawed and chewed their tobacco-pouches : and two 
 caps, that had been dressed with the hair on, were 
 divided for food. 
 
 None was given to Mr. Hazel or Miss Eolleston ; and 
 this, to do the poor creatures justice, was the first instance 
 of partiality the sailors had shown. 
 
 The lady, though tormented with hunger, was more 
 magnanimous ; she offered to divide the contents of her 
 little medicine-chest ; and the globules were all devoured 
 in a moment. 
 
 And now their tortures were aggravated by the sight 
 of abundance. They drifted over coral rocks, at a con- 
 siderable depth, but the water was so exquisitely clear 
 that they saw five fathoms down. They discerned small 
 fish drifting over the bottom ; they looked like a driving 
 cloud, so vast was their number; and every now and 
 then there was a scurry among them, and porpoises and 
 dog-fish broke in and feasted on them. All this they 
 saw, yet could not catch one of those billions for their 
 lives. Thus they were tantalized as well as starved. 
 
 The next day was like the last, with this difference, 
 that the sufferers could no longer endure their torments 
 in silence. 
 
 The lady moaned constantly: the sailors groaned, 
 lamented, and cursed. 
 
 The sun baked, and blistered ; and the water glared. 
 
172 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 The sails being useless, the sailors rigged them as an 
 awning, and salt water was constantly' thrown over them. 
 
 Mr. Hazel took a baler and drenched his own clothes 
 and Miss EoUeston's upon their bodies. This relieved 
 the hell of thirst in some degree : but the sailors could 
 not be persuaded to practise it. 
 
 In the afternoon Hazel took Miss EoUeston's Bible 
 from her wasted hands, and read aloud the forty-second 
 Psalm. 
 
 When he had done, one of the sailors asked him to 
 pass the Bible forward. He did so ; and in half an hour 
 the leaves were returned him ; the vellum binding had 
 been cut off, divided, and eaten. 
 
 He looked piteously at the leaves, and, after a while, 
 fell upon his knees, and prayed silently. 
 
 He rose, and, with Miss EoUeston's consent, offered 
 the men the leaves as well. " It is the Bread of Life 
 for men's souls, not their bodies," said he. " But God is 
 merciful ; I think he will forgive you ; for your need is 
 bitter." 
 
 Cooper replied that the binding was man's, but the 
 pages were God's ; and, either for this or another more 
 obvious reason, the leaves were declined for food. 
 
 All that afternoon Hazel was making a sort of rough 
 spoon out of a fragment of wood. 
 
 The night that followed was darker than usual, and, 
 about midnight, a hand was laid on Helen EoUeston's 
 shoulder, and a voice whispered, "Hush! say nothing. 
 I have got something for you." 
 
 At the same time, something sweet and deliciously 
 fragrant, was put to her lips; she opened her mouth, 
 and received a spoonful of marmalade. Never did mar- 
 malade taste like that before. It dissolved itself like 
 ambrosia over her palate, and even relieved her parched 
 throat in some slight degree by the saliva it excited. 
 
FOTJIi PLAT. 173 
 
 Nature eould not be resisted; her body took whatever 
 he gave. But her high mind rebelled. 
 
 "Oh, how base I am," said she, and wept. 
 
 "Why, it is your own," said he, soothingly; "I took 
 it out of your cabin expressly for you." 
 
 "At least oblige me by eating some yourself, sir," 
 said Helen, " or (with a sudden burst) I wiU die ere I 
 touch another morsel." 
 
 "I feel the threat. Miss Rolleston; but I do not need 
 it, for I am very, very hungry. But no ; if / take any, 
 I must divide it all with them. But if you will help 
 me unrip the jacket, I will suck the inside — after 
 you." 
 
 Helen gazed at him, and wondered at the man, and at 
 the strange love which had so bitterly offended her, when 
 she was surrounded by comforts; but now it extorted 
 her respect. 
 
 They unripped the jacket, and found some moisture 
 left. They sucked it, and it was a wonderful, an incredi- 
 ble relief to their parched gullets. 
 
 The next day was a fearful one. Not a cloud in the 
 sky to gfive hope of rain ; the air so light, it only just 
 moved them along ; and the sea glared, and the sun beat 
 on the poor wretches, now tortured into madness with 
 hunger and thirst. 
 
 The body of man, in this dire extremity, can suffer 
 internal agony as acute as any that can be inflicted on 
 its surfece by the knife ; and the cries, the screams, the 
 groans, the prayers, the curses, intermingled, that issued 
 from the boat, were not to be distinguished from the 
 cries of men horribly wounded in battle, or writliing 
 under some terrible operation in hospitals. 
 
 Oh, it was terrible and piteous to see and hear the 
 boat-load of ghastly victims, with hollow cheeks, and 
 wild-beast eyes, go groaning, cursing, and shrieking 
 
174 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 loud, upon that fair glassy sea, below that purple vault 
 and glorious sun. 
 
 Towards afternoon, the sailors got together, forward, 
 and left Hazel and Miss EoUeston alone in the stern. 
 This gave him an opportunity of speaking to her con- 
 fidentially. He took advantage of it, and said, "Miss 
 EoUeston, I wish to consult you. Am I justified in 
 secreting the marmalade any longer ? There is nearly 
 a spoonful apiece." 
 
 "No," said Helen, "divide it amongst them all. Oh, 
 if I had only a woman beside me, to pray with, and cry 
 with, and die with : for die we must." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that," said Hazel faintly, but with 
 a cool fortitude all his own. "Experience proves that 
 the human body can subsist a prodigious time on very 
 little food : and saturating the clothes with water is, I 
 know, the best way to allay thirst. And women, thank 
 heaven, last longer than men, under privations." 
 
 "I shall not last long, sir," said Helen. "Look at 
 their eyes." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I mean that those men there are going to kiU me." 
 
FOUL PLAT. 175 
 
 CHAPTER XVnL 
 
 Hazel thought her reason was going ; and, instead of 
 looking at the men's eyes, it was hers he examined. 
 Bnt no ; the sweet cheek was white, the eyes had a 
 fearful hollow all round them, but, out of that cave, the 
 light hazel eye, pietemataraUy large, but calm as ever, 
 looked out, full of fortitude, resignation, and reason. 
 
 "Don't look at me" said she, quietly; "but take an 
 opportunity and look at them. They mean to kill me." 
 
 Hazel looked fnrtiTely round ; and, being enlightened 
 in part by the woman's intelligence, he observed that 
 some of the men were actually glaring at himself and 
 Helen Bolleston, in a dreadful way. There was a 
 remarkable change in their eyes since he looked last. 
 The pupils seemed diminished, the whites enlarged; 
 and, in a word, the characteristics of humanity had, 
 somehow, died out of those bloodshot orbs, and the 
 animal alone shone in them now ; the wild beast^ driven 
 desperate by hunger. 
 
 What he saw, coupled with Helen's positive interpre- 
 tation of it, was truly sickening. 
 
 These men were six, and he but one. They had all 
 clasp knives; and he had only an old penknife that 
 would be sure to double up, or break of^ if a blow were 
 dealt with it. 
 
 He asked himself in utter terror, what on earth he 
 should do. 
 
 The first thing seemed to be to join the men, and 
 learn their minds : it might also be as well to prevent 
 this secret conference from going further. 
 
176 POtTL PLAT. 
 
 He went forward boldly, though sick at heart, and 
 said, "Well, my lads, what is it?" 
 
 The men were silent directly, and looked sullenly 
 down, avoiding his eye; yet not ashamed. 
 
 In a situation so terrible, the senses are sharpened; 
 and Hazel dissected, in his mind, this sinister look, and 
 saw that Morgan, Prince, and Mackintosh were hostile 
 to him. 
 
 But Welch and Cooper he hoped were still friendly. 
 
 "Sir," said ¥enner, civilly but doggedly, "we are 
 come to this now, that one must die, for the others to 
 live : and the greater part of us are for casting lots all 
 round, and let every man, and every woman too, take 
 their chance. That is fair, Sam, isn't it?" 
 
 " It is fair," said Cooper, with a terrible doggedness. 
 " But it is hard," he added. 
 
 "Harder that seven should die for one," said Mack- 
 intosh. " No, no : one must die for the seven." 
 
 Hazel represented, with all the force language pos- 
 sesses, that what they meditated was a crime, the fatal 
 result of which was known by experience. 
 
 But they heard in ominous silence. 
 
 Hazel went back to Helen Eolleston: and sat down 
 right before her. 
 
 " Well ! " said she, with supernatural calmness. 
 
 "You were mistaken," said he. 
 
 "Then why have you placed yourself between them 
 and me ? No ; no : their eyes have told me they have 
 singled me out. But what does it matter? We poor 
 creatures are all to die; and that one is the happiest 
 that dies first, and dies unstained by such a crime. 
 I heard every word you said, sir ! " 
 
 Hazel cast a piteous look on her, and, finding he 
 could no longer deceive her as to their danger, and being 
 weakened by famine, fell to trembling and crying. 
 
FOTTL PLAY. 177 
 
 Helen Eolleston looked at him with calm and gentle 
 pity. For a moment, the patient fortitude of a woman 
 made her a brave man's superior. 
 
 Night came, and, for the first time. Hazel claimed two 
 portions of the ram ; one for himself, and one for Miss 
 Eolleston. 
 
 He then returned aft, and took the helm. He loosened 
 it, so as to be ready to unship it in a moment, and use it 
 as a weapon. 
 
 The men huddled together forward, and it was easy 
 to see that the boat was now divided into two hostile 
 camps. 
 
 Hazel sat quaking with his hand on the helm, fearing 
 an attack every moment. 
 
 Both he and Helen listened acutely, and about three 
 o'clock in the morning, a new incident occurred, of a 
 terrible nature. 
 
 Mackintosh was heard to say, " Serve out the 3Pum, no 
 allowance," and the demand was instantly complied with 
 by Morgan. 
 
 Then Hazel touched Miss Eolleston on the shoulder, 
 and insisted on her taking half what was left of the 
 marmalade : and he took the other half. The time was 
 gone by for economy: what they wanted now was 
 strength, in case the wild beasts, maddened by drink as 
 well as hunger, should attack, them. 
 
 Already the liquor had begun to tell, and wild hallos 
 and yells, and even fragments of ghastly songs, mingled 
 with the groans of misery in the doomed boat. 
 
 At sunrise there was a great swell upon the water, 
 with sharp gusts at intervals; and on the horizon, to 
 windward, might be observed a black spot in the sky, no 
 bigger than a fly. But none saw that ; Hazel's eye never 
 left the raving wretches in the forepart of the boat; 
 Cooper and Welch sat in gloomy despair amidships ; and 
 12 
 
178 FOTJIi PLAT. 
 
 the others were huddled together forward, encouraging 
 each other to a desperate act. 
 
 It was about eight o'clock in the morning, Helen 
 EoUeston awoke from a brief doze, and said, " Mr. Hazel, 
 I have had a strange dream. I dreamed there was food, 
 and plenty of it, on the outside of this boat." 
 
 While these strange words were yet in her mouth, 
 three of the sailors suddenly rose up with their knives 
 drawn, and eyes full of murder, and staggered aft as fast 
 as their enfeebled bodies could. 
 
 Hazel uttered a loud cry, " Welch ! Cooper ! will you 
 see us butchered ? " and rose to his feet. 
 
 Cooper put out his arm to stop Mackintosh, but was 
 too late. He did stop Morgan, however, and said, " Come, 
 none of that ; no foul play ! " 
 
 Irritated by this unexpected resistance, and maddened 
 by drink, Morgan turned on Cooper and stabbed him ; 
 he sank down with a groan. On this Welch gave Morgan 
 a fearful gash, dividing his jugular, and was stabbed, in 
 return, by Prince, but not severely : these two grappled 
 and rolled over one another, stabbing and cursing at the 
 bottom of the boat ; meantime. Hazel had unshipped the 
 helm, and Mackintosh was received by him with a point 
 blank thrust in the face from it that staggered him, 
 though a very powerful man, and drove him backwards 
 against the mast ; but, in delivering this thrust. Hazel's 
 foot slipped, and he fell with great violence on his head 
 and arm; Mackintosh recovered himself, and sprang 
 upon the stern thwart with his knife up and gleaming 
 over Helen EoUeston. Hazel writhed round where he 
 lay, and struck him desperately on the knee with the 
 helm. The poor woman knew only how to suffer ; she 
 cowered a little, and put up two feeble hands. 
 
 The knife descended. 
 
 But not upon that cowering figure. 
 
FOUL PLAT. 179 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A PtJKPLB rippling line upon the water had for some 
 little time been coming down from the east with great 
 rapidity : but, bent on bloody work, the crew had not 
 observed it. The boat heeled over under the sudden gust ; 
 but Mackintosh had already lost his footing under Hazel's 
 blow, and the boom striking him suddenly almost at the 
 same moment, he went clean over the gunwale into the 
 sea ; he struck it with his knife first. 
 
 All their lives were now gone if Cooper, who had 
 already recovered his feet, had not immediately cut the 
 sheet with his knife ; there was no time to slack it ; and, 
 even as it was, the lower part of the sail was drenched, 
 and the boat full of water. 
 
 " Ship the helm," he roared. 
 
 The boat righted directly the sheet was cut, the wet 
 sail flapped furiously, and the boat having way on her 
 yielded to the helm and wriggled slowly away before the 
 whistling wind. 
 
 Mackintosh rose a few yards astern, and swam after 
 the boat, with great glaring eyes ; the loose sail was not 
 drawing, but the wind moved the boat onward. How- 
 ever, Mackintosh gained slowly, and Hazel held up an 
 oar like a spear, and shouted to him that he must prom- 
 ise solemnly to forego all violence, or he should never 
 come on board alive. 
 
 Mackintosh opened his mouth to reply; but, at the 
 same moment, his eyes suddenly dilated in a fearful 
 way, and he went under water, with a gurgling cry. 
 Yet, not like one drowning, but with a jerk. 
 
180 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 The next moment there was a great bubbling of the 
 water, as if displaced by some large creatures struggling 
 below, and then the surface was stained with blood. 
 
 And, lest there should be any doubt as to the wretched 
 man's fate, the huge back fin of a monstrous shark came 
 soon after, gliding round and round the rolling boat, 
 awaiting the next victim. 
 
 Now, while the water was yet stained with his life 
 blood, who, hurrying to kill, had met a violent death, 
 the unwounded sailor, Fenner, excited by the fracas, 
 broke forth into singing, and so completed the horror of 
 a wild and awful scene : for still while he shouted, 
 laughed, and sang, the shark swam calmly round and 
 round, and the boat crept on, her white sail bespattered 
 with blood — which was not so before — and in her 
 bottom lay one man dead as a stone ; and two poor 
 wretches, Prince and Welch, their short-lived feud com- 
 posed forever, sat openly sucking their bleeding wounds, 
 to quench, for a moment, their intolerable thirst. 
 
 Oh, little^ do we, who never pass a single day with- 
 out bite or sup, know the animal, Man, in these dire 
 extremities. 
 
FOTJIi PLAT. 181 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 At last Cooper ordered Fanner to hold his jaw, and 
 come aft and help sail the boat. 
 
 But the man, being now stark mad, took no notice of 
 the order. His madness grew on him, and took a turn 
 by no means uncommon in these cases. He saw before 
 him sumptuous feasts, and streams of fresh water flow- 
 ing. These he began to describe with great volubility 
 and rapture, smacking his lips, and exulting : and so he 
 went on tantalizing them till noon. 
 
 Meantime, Cooper asked Mr. Hazel if he could sail 
 the boat. The squall had passed, and the breeze was 
 now steady from the south-west. 
 
 " I can steer," said Hazel, " but that is all. My right 
 arm is benumbed." 
 
 The silvery voice of Helen RoUeston then uttered 
 brave and welcome words. " I will do whatever you tell 
 me, Mr. Cooper." 
 
 " Long life to you, miss ! " said the wounded seaman. 
 He then directed her how to reef the sail, and splice 
 the sheet which he had been obliged to cut ; and in a 
 word, to sail the boat ; which she did with some little 
 assistance from Hazel. 
 
 And so they all depended upon her, whom some of 
 them had been for kilUng; and the blood-stained boat 
 glided before the wind. 
 
 At two P.M. Fenner jumped suddenly up, and looking 
 at the sea with rapture, cried out, " Aha ! my boys, here's 
 a beautiful green meadow; and there's a sweet brook 
 with bulrushes : green, green, green ! Let's have a roll 
 
182 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 among the daisies." And, in a moment, ere any of his 
 stiff and wounded shipmates could put out a hand, he 
 threw himself on his back upon the water, and sunk 
 forever, with inexpressible rapture on his corpse-like 
 face. 
 
 A feeble groan was the only tribute those who remained 
 behind could afford him. 
 
 At three p.m. Mr. Hazel happened to look over the 
 weather-side of the boat, as she heeled to leeward under 
 a smart breeze, and he saw a shell or two fastened to her 
 side, about eleven inches above her keel. He looked 
 again, and gave a loud hurrah. " Barnacles ! barnacles ! " 
 he cried. " I see them sticking." 
 
 He leaned over, and, with some difficulty, detached 
 one, and held it up. 
 
 It was not a barnacle, but a curious oblong shell-fish, 
 open at one end. 
 
 At sight of this, the wounded forgot their wounds, and 
 leaned over the boat's side, detaching the shell-fish with 
 their knives. They broke them with the handles of 
 their knives, and devoured the fish. They were as thick 
 as a man's finger, and about an inch long, and as sweet 
 as a nut. It seems that in the long calm these shell-fish 
 had fastened on the boat. More than a hundred of them 
 were taken off her weather-side, and evenly divided. 
 
 Miss B/oUeston, at Hazel's earnest request, ate only 
 six, and these very slowly, and laid the rest by. But 
 the sailors could not restrain themselves ; and Prince, in 
 particular, gorged himself so fiercely that he turned 
 purple in the face, and began to breathe very hard. 
 
 That black speck On the horizon had grown, by noon, 
 to a beetle, and by three o'clock to something more like 
 an elephant, and it now diffused itself into a huge black 
 cloud that gradually overspread the heavens ; and, at 
 last, about half an hour before sunset, came a peculiar 
 
VaUJj PLAT. 183 
 
 chill, and then, in due course, a drop or two fell upon 
 the parched wretches. They sat, less like animals than 
 like plants, all stretching towards their preserver. 
 
 Their eyes were turned up to the clouds, so were 
 their open mouths, and their arms and hands held up 
 towards it. 
 
 The drops increased in number, and praise went up to 
 heaven in return. 
 
 Patter, patter, patter ; down came a shower, a rain — 
 a heavy, steady rain. 
 
 With cries of joy, they put out every vessel to catch 
 it; they lowered the sail, and, putting ballast in the 
 centre, bellied it into a great vessel to catch it. They 
 used all their spare canvas to catch it. They filled the 
 water-cask with it ; they filled the keg that had held the 
 fatal spirit ; and all the time they were sucking the wet 
 canvas and their own clothes, and their very hands and 
 garments on which the life-giving drops kept falling. 
 
 Then they set their little sail again, and prayed for 
 land to Him who had sent them wind and rain. 
 
184 rOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The breeze declined at sunset ; but it rained at inter- 
 vals during the night; and by the morning they were 
 somewhat chilled. 
 
 Death had visited them again during the night. 
 Prince was discovered dead and cold ; his wounds were 
 mere scratches, and there seems to be no doubt that he 
 died by gorging himself with more food than his enfee- 
 bled system could possibly digest. 
 
 Thus dismally began a day of comparative bodily 
 comfort, but mental distress, especially to Miss Eolles- 
 ton and Mr. Hazel. 
 
 Now that this lady and gentleman were no longer 
 goaded to madness by physical suffering, their higher 
 sensibilities resumed their natural force, and the miser- 
 able contents of the blood-stained boat shocked them 
 terribly. Two corpses and two wounded men. 
 
 Mr. Hazel, however, soon came to one resolution, and 
 fhat was to read the funeral service over the dead, and 
 then commit them to the deep. He declared his inten- 
 tion, and Cooper, who, though wounded, and apparently 
 sinking, was still skipper of the boat, acquiesced readily. 
 
 Mr. Hazel took the dead men's knives and their money 
 out of their pockets, and read the burial service over 
 them ; they were then committed to the deep. This sad 
 ceremony perfprmed, he addressed a few words to the 
 survivors. 
 
 " My friends and brothers in afliction, we ought not 
 to hope too much from Divine mercy for ourselves ; or 
 we should soon come to forget Divine justice. But we 
 
FODX PLAY. 185 
 
 are not forbidden to hope for others. Those, who are 
 now gone, were guilty of a terrible crime ; but then they 
 were tempted more than their flesh could bear ; and they 
 received their punishment here on earth : we may there- 
 fore hope they will escape punishment hereafter. And 
 it is for us to profit by their fate, and bow to Heaven's 
 will : even when they drew their knives, food in plenty 
 was within their reach, and the signs of wind were on 
 the sea, and of rain in the sky. Let us be more patient 
 than they were, and place our trust — What is that upon 
 the water to leeward ? A piece of wood floating ? " 
 
 Welch stood up and looked. "Can't make it out. 
 Steer alongside it, miss, if you please." And he crept 
 forward. 
 
 Presently he became excited, and directed those in the 
 stem how to steer the boat close to the object without 
 going over it. He begged them all to be silent. He 
 leaned over the boat side as they neared it. He clutched it 
 suddenly with both hands, and flung it into the boat with 
 a shout of triumph ; but sank exhausted by the effort. 
 
 It was a young turtle; and being asleep on the water, 
 or inexperienced, had allowed them to capture it. 
 
 This was indeed a godsend : twelve pounds of succu- 
 lent meat. It was instantly divided, and Mr. Hazel con- 
 trived, with some difficulty, to boil a portion of it. He 
 enjoyed it greatly ; but Miss Eolleston showed a curious 
 and violent antipathy to it, scarcely credible under the 
 circiunstances. Not so the sailors. They devoured it 
 raw, what they could get at all. Cooper could only get 
 down a mouthful or two: he had received his death 
 wound, and was manifestly sinking. 
 
 He revived, however, from time to time, and spoke 
 cheerfully, whenever he spoke at all. Welch informed 
 him of every incident that took place, however minute. 
 Then he would nod, or utter a syllable or two. 
 
186 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 On iDeing told that they were passing through seaweed, 
 he expressed a wish to see some of it, and, when he had 
 examined it, he said to Hazel, "Keep up your heart, 
 sir ; you are not a hundred miles from land." He added 
 gently, after a pause, " but I am bound for another port." 
 
 About five in the afternoon, Welch came aft, with the 
 tears in his eyes, to say that Sam was just going to slip 
 his cable, and had something to say to them. 
 
 They went to him directly, and Hazel took his hand, 
 and exhorted him to forgive all his enemies. 
 
 "Han't a got none," was the reply. 
 
 Hazel then, after a few words of religious exhortation 
 and comfort, asked him if he could do anything for him. 
 
 "Ay," said Cooper, solemnly. "Got pen and ink 
 aboard, any of ye ? " 
 
 "I have a pencil," said Helen, earnestly; then tear- 
 fully, " oh, dear ! it is to make his will." After search- 
 ing in vain for paper she offered her prayer-book, which 
 had two blank leaves under each cover. 
 
 The dying man saw it, and rose into that remarkable 
 energy, which sometimes precedes the departure of the 
 soul. 
 
 " Write ! " said he, in his deep, full tones. 
 
 " I, Samuel Cooper, able seaman, am going to slip my cable, 
 and sail into the presence of my Maker." 
 
 He waited till this was written. 
 
 " And so I speak the truth." 
 
 " The ship Proserpine was destroyed wilful." 
 
 " The men had more allowance than they signed for." 
 
 " The mate was always plying the captain with liquor." 
 
 "Two days before ever the ship leaked the mate got the 
 long-boat ready." 
 
POTTL PLAT. 187 
 
 " When the Proserpine sank, we was on her port quarter, 
 aboard the cutter, was me and my messmate Tom Welch." 
 
 "We saw two auger holes in her stam, about two inches 
 diameter." 
 
 " Them two holes was made from within, for the splinters 
 showed outside." 
 
 " She was a good ship, and met with no stress of weather 
 to speak of, on that voyage." 
 
 " Joe Wylie scuttled her and destroyed her people." 
 
 " D n his eyes ! " 
 
 Mr. Hazel was shocked at this finale : but he knew 
 what sailors are, and how little meaning there is in their 
 set phrases. However, as a clergyman, he could not 
 allow these to be Cooper's last words: so he said 
 earnestly, "Yes, but, my poor fellow, you said you 
 forgave all your enemies. We all need_ forgiveness, you 
 know." 
 
 " That is true, sir." 
 
 "And you forgive this Wylie, do you not ? " 
 
 " Oh Lord, yes," said Cooper, faintly. " I forgive the 
 lubber ; d ^n Mm ! " 
 
 Having said these words with some difficulty, he 
 became lethargic, and so remained for two hours. 
 Indeed he spoke but once more, and that was to 
 Welch ; though they were all about him then. " Mess- 
 mate," said he, in a voice that was now faint and broken, 
 " you and I must sail together on this new voyage. I'm 
 going out of port first ; but " (in a whisper of inconceiv- 
 able tenderness and simple cunning) " I'll lie-to outside 
 the harbor till you come out, my bo." Then he paused 
 a moment. Then he added, softly, "For I love you, 
 Tom." 
 
 These sweet words were the last of that rugged, silent 
 sailor, who never threw a word away, and whose rough 
 
188 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 breast enclosed a friendship as of tlie ancient world, 
 tender, true, and eyerlasting, that sweetened his life, 
 and ennobled his death. As he deseryed mourners, 
 so he had true ones. His last words went home to the 
 afflicted hearts that heard them, and the lady and gentle- 
 man, whose lives he had saved at the cost of his own, 
 wept aloud over their departed friend. But his mess- 
 mate's eye was dry. When all was over, he just turned 
 to the mourners, and said, gravely, "Thank ye, sir : thank 
 ye kindly, ma'am." And then he covered the body 
 decently with the spare canvas, and lay quietly down, 
 with his own head pillowed upon those loved remains. 
 
 Towards afternoon, seals were observed sporting on 
 the waters ; but no attempt was made to capture them. 
 Indeed Miss Eolleston had quite enough to do to sail 
 the boat with Mr. Hazel's assistance. 
 
 The night passed, and the morning brought nothing 
 new: except that they fell in with seaweed in such 
 quantities, the boat could hardly get through it. Mr. 
 Hazel examined this seaweed carefully, and brought 
 several kinds upon deck. Amongst the varieties, was 
 one like thin green strips of spinach, very tender and 
 succulent. His botanical researches included seaweed, 
 and he recognized this as one of the edible rock-weeds. 
 There was very little of it- comparatively, but he took 
 great pains, and, in two hours' time, had gathered as 
 much as might fill a good slop-basin. He washed it in 
 fresh water, and then asked Miss Eolleston for a pocket- 
 handkerchief. This he tied so as to make a bag, and 
 contrived to boil it with the few chips of fuel that 
 remained on board. 
 
 After he had boiled it ten minutes, there was no more 
 fuel, except a bowl or two, and the boat-hook, one pair 
 of oars, and the midship and stern thwarts. 
 
 He tasted it, and found it glutinous and delicious; he 
 
POTHi PLAT. 189 
 
 gave Miss Rollestoh some, and then fed Welch with the 
 rest. He, poor fellow, ©ajoyed this sea spinach greatly; 
 he could no longer swallow meat. 
 
 While Hazel was feeding him, a flight of ducks passed 
 over their heads, high in the air. 
 
 Welch pointed up at them. 
 
 « Ah ! " said Helenj " if we had but their wings ! " 
 
 Presently a bird was seen coming in the same direc- 
 tion, but flying very low ; it wobbled along towards them 
 very slowly, and, at last, to their great surprise, came 
 flapping and tried to settle on the gunwale of the boat. 
 Welch, with that instinct of slaughter which belongs to 
 men, stuck the boat-hook into the bird's back ; and it was 
 soon despatched. It proved to be one of that very flock 
 of ducks that had passed over their heads, and a crab was 
 found fastened to its leg. It is supposed that the bird, to 
 break its long flight, had rested on some reef, and, per- 
 haps, been too busy fishing ; and caught this Tartar. 
 
 Hazel pounced upon it. "Heaven has sent this for 
 you; because you cannot eat turtle." But the next 
 moment he blushed and recovered his reason. " See," 
 said he, referring to her own words, "this poor bird had 
 wings ; yet death overtook her." 
 
 He sacrificed a bowl for fuel, and boiled the duck and 
 the crab in one pot, and Miss RoUeston ate demurely 
 but plentifully of both. Of the crab's shell he made a 
 little drinking vessel for Miss RoUeston. 
 
 Cooper remained without funeral rites all this time ; 
 the reason was that Welch lay with his head pillowed 
 upon his dear friend, and Hazel had not the heart to 
 disturb him. 
 
 But it was the survivors' duty to commit him to the 
 deep, and so Hazel sat down by Welch, and asked him 
 kindly wheliier he would not wish the services of the 
 Church to be read over his departed friend. 
 
190 KOUL PLAT. 
 
 " In course, sir," said Welch. But the next moment 
 he took Hazel's meaning, and said hurriedly, " No, no ! 
 I can't let Sam be buried in the sea. You see, sir, Sam 
 and I, we are used to one another, and I can't abide to 
 part with him, alive or dead." 
 
 "Ah ! " said Hazel, " the best friends must part, when 
 death takes one." 
 
 " Ay, ay, when t'other lives. But, Lord bless you, sir ! 
 I shan't be long astarn of my messmate here ; can't you 
 see that ? " 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! " said Hazel, surprised and alarmed. 
 " Why, you are not wounded mortally, as Cooper was. 
 Have a good heart, man, and we three will all see old 
 England yet." 
 
 " Well, sir," said Welch, coolly, " I'll tell ye ; me and 
 my shipmate. Prince, was a-cutting at one another with 
 our knives a smart time (and I do properly wonder, when 
 I think of that day's work, for I liked the man well 
 enough : but rum atop of starvation plays hell with sea- 
 faring men) : well, sir, as I was arsaying, he let more 
 blood out of me than I could afford to lose under the 
 circumstances. And, ye see, I can't make fresh blood, 
 because my throat is so swelled by the drought, I can't 
 swallow much meat, so I'm safe to lose the number of 
 my mess ; and, another thing, my heart isn't altogether 
 set towards living. Sam, here, he give me an order ; 
 what, didn't ye hear him ? 'I'll lie-to outside the bar,' 
 says he, ' till you come out.' He expects me to come out 
 in his wake. Don't ye, Sam — that was ? " and he laid 
 his hands gently on the remains. "Now, sir, I shall ax 
 the lady and you a favor. I want to lie alongside Sam. 
 But if you bury him in the sea, and me ashore, why 
 
 d n my eyes if I shan't be a thousand years or so 
 
 before I can find my own messmate. Etarnity is a 
 'nation big place, I am told, a hundred times as big as 
 
FOXJIi PLAY. 191 
 
 both oceans. No, sir ; you'll make land, by Sam's reckon- 
 ing, to-morrow or next day, wind and tide permitting. 
 I'll take care of Sam's hull tiU then, and we'll lie 
 together till the angel blows that there trumpet ; and 
 then'll we'll go aloft together, and, as soon as ever we 
 have made our scrape to our betters, we'll both speak a 
 good word for you and the lady ; a very pretty lady she 
 is, and a good-hearted, and the best plucked one I ever 
 did see in any distressed craft ; now don't ye cry, miss, 
 don't ye cry, your trouble is pretty near over ; he said 
 you was not a hundred miles from land ; I don't know 
 how he knew that, he was always a better seaman than 
 I be ; but say it he did, and that is enough, for he was a 
 man as never told a lie, nor wasted a word." 
 
 Welch could utter no more just then ; for the glands 
 of his throat were swollen, and he spoke with considera- 
 ble difficulty. 
 
 What could Hazel reply ? The judgment is sometimes 
 ashamed to contradict the heart with cold reasons. 
 
 He only said, with a sigh, that he saw no signs of 
 land, and believed they had gone on a wrong course, and 
 were in the heart of the Pacific. 
 
 Welch made no answer, but a look of good-natured 
 contempt. The idea of this parson contradicting Sam 
 Cooper ! 
 
 The sun broke, and revealed the illimitable ocean; 
 themselves a tiny speck on it. 
 
 Mr. Hazel whispered Miss Bolleston that Cooper must 
 be buried to-day. 
 
 At ten P.M. they passed through more searweed ; but 
 this time they had to eat the sea-spinach raw, and there 
 was very little of it. 
 
 At noon the sea was green in places. 
 
 Welch told them this was a sign they were nearing 
 land. 
 
192 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 At four P.M. a bird, about the size and color of a wood- 
 pecker, settled on the boat's mast. 
 
 Their glittering eyes fastened on it ; and Welch said, 
 " Come, there's a supper for you as can eat it." 
 
 " No, poor thing ! " said Helen EoUeston. 
 
 "You are right," said Hazel, with a certain effort of 
 self-restraint. " Let our sufferings make us gentle, not 
 savage ; that poor bird is lost like us upon this ocean. 
 It is a land-bird." 
 
 " How do you know that ? " 
 
 "Water-birds have webbed feet — to swim with." 
 
 The bird, having rested, flew to the north-west. 
 
 Helen, by one of those inspired impulses her sex have, 
 altered the boat's course directly, and followed the bird. 
 
 Half an hour before sunset, Helen EoUeston, whose 
 vision was very keen, said she saw something at the 
 verge of the horizon, like a hair standing upright. 
 
 Hazel looked, but could not see anything. 
 
 In ten minutes more, Helen EoUeston pointed it out 
 again ; and then Hazel did see a vertical line, more Uke 
 a ship's mast than anything else one could expect to see 
 there. 
 
 Their eyes were now strained to make it out, and as 
 the boat advanced, it became more and more palpable, 
 though it was hard to say exactly what it was. 
 
 Five minutes before the sun set, the air being clearer 
 than ever, it stood out clean against the sky. A tree — 
 a lofty, solitary tree, with a tall stem, like a column, and 
 branches only at the top. 
 
 A palm-tree — in the middle of the Pacific. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XXn. 
 
 And but for the land-bird which rested on their mast, 
 and for their own mercy in sparing it, they would have 
 passed to the eastward, and never seen that giant palm- 
 tree in mid-ocean. 
 
 " Oh, let us put out all her sails, and fly to it ! " cried 
 Helen. 
 
 Welch smiled and said, " No, miss, ye mustn't. Lord 
 love ye ; what ! run on to a land ye don't know, happy 
 go lucky, in the dark, like that ? Lay her head for the 
 tree, and welcome, but you must lower the mainsel, and 
 treble reef the foresel ; and so creep on a couple of knots 
 an hour, and, by day-break, you'll find the island under 
 your lee. Then you can look out for a safe landing- 
 place." 
 
 " The island, Mr. Welch ! " said Helen. " There is no 
 island, or I should have seen it." 
 
 "Oh, the island was hull down. Why, you don't 
 think as palm-trees grow in the water? You do as I 
 say, or you'll get wrecked on some thundering reef or 
 other." 
 
 Upon this Mr. Hazel and Miss Eolleston set to work, 
 and, with considerable difficulty, lowered the mainsail, 
 and treble reefed the foresail. 
 
 " That is right," said Welch. " To-morrow you'U land 
 in safety, and bury my messmate and me." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " cried Helen Eolleston. " We must bury 
 him, but we mean to cure you." 
 
 They obeyed Welch's instructions, and so crept on all 
 night ; and, so well had this able seaman calculated dia- 
 ls 
 
194 POUL PLAY. 
 
 tance and rate of sailing, that, when the sun rose, sure 
 enough there was an island under their lee, distant 
 about a league, though it looked much less. But the 
 palm-tree was more than twice that distance. By force 
 of wind and current they had made lee-way all night, 
 and that tree stood on the most westerly point of the 
 island. 
 
 Hazel and Miss EoUeston stood up and hurrahed for 
 joy ; then fell on their knees in silent gratitude. Welch 
 only smiled. 
 
 But though there was no broken water at sea, yet 
 breakers, formidable to such a craft as theirs, were seen 
 foaming over long disjointed reefs ahead that griuned 
 black and dangerous here and there. 
 
 They then consulted Welch, and he told them they 
 must tack directly, and make a circuit of the island to 
 land. He had to show them how to tack ; and, the sea 
 rising, they got thoroughly wetted, and Miss RoUeston 
 rather frightened ; for here was a peril they had wonder- 
 fully escaped hitherto. 
 
 However, before eleven o'clock, they had stood out to 
 sea, and coasted the whole south side of the island : they 
 then put the boat before the wind, and soon ran past the 
 east coast, which was very narrow, — in fact, a sort of 
 bluff-head, — and got on the north side of the island. 
 Here the water was comparatively smooth, and the air 
 warm and balmy. 
 
 They kept about a mile off the shore, and ranged along 
 the north side, looking out for a good landing. 
 
 Here was no longer an unbroken line of cliffs, but an 
 undulating shore, with bulging rocks, and lines of reef. 
 After a mile or two of that the coast ran out seaward, 
 and they passed close to a most extraordinary phenome- 
 non of vegetation; great tangled woods crowned the shore 
 and the landward slopes, and their grand foliage seemed 
 
FOUIi PLAY. 195 
 
 to flow over into the sea : for here was a broad rocky flat 
 intersected with a thousand little channels of the sea ; 
 and the thousand little islets so formed, were crowded, 
 covered, and hidden with luxuriant vegetation. Huge 
 succulent leaves of the richest hue hung over the water, 
 and one or two of the most adventurous of them showed, 
 by the crystals that sparkled on their green surface, that 
 the waves had actually been kissing them at high tide. 
 This ceased, and they passed right under a cliff, crowned 
 with trees above. 
 
 This cliff was broad and irregular, and in one of its 
 cavities a cascade of pure fresh water came sparkling, 
 leaping, and tumbling down to the foot of the rock. 
 There it had formed a great basin of water, cool, deep, 
 transparent, which trickled over on to a tongue of pink 
 sand, and went in two crystal gutters to the sea. 
 
 Great and keen was the rapture this sight caused our 
 poor parched voyagers, and eager their desire to land at 
 once, if possible, and plunge their burning lips, and 
 swelling throats, and fevered hands into that heavenly 
 liquid; but the next moment they were diverted from 
 that purpose by the scene that burst on them. 
 
 This wooded cliff, with its wonderful cascade, was the 
 very gate of paradise. They passed it, and in one moment 
 were in a bay — a sudden bay wonderfully deep for its 
 extent, and sheltered on three sides. Broad sands with 
 rainbow tints, all sparkling, and dotted with birds, some 
 white as snow, some gorgeous. A peaceful sea of exqui- 
 site blue kissing these lovely sands with myriad dimples ; 
 and, from the land side soft emerald slopes, embroidered 
 with silver threads of water, came to the very edge of 
 the sands; so that, from all those glorious hues, that 
 flecked the prismatic and sparkling sands, the eye of 
 the voyagers passed at once to the vivid, yet sweet and 
 soothing, green of Nature; and over this paradise, the 
 
196 rouii PLAY. 
 
 breeze they could no longer feel, wafted Spicy but delicate 
 odors from unseen trees. 
 
 Even Welch raised himself in the boat, and sniffed the 
 heavenly air, and smiled at the heavenly spot. " Here's 
 a blessed haven ! " said he. " Down sail, and row her 
 ashore." 
 
FOUL PLAT. 197 
 
 CHAPTER XXin. 
 
 Thkt rowed more than a mile, so deep was the glorious 
 bay ; and then their oars struck the ground. But Hazel 
 with the boat-hook propelled the boat gently over the 
 pellucid water, that now seemed too shallow to float a 
 canoe ; and at last looked like the mere varnish of that 
 picture, the prismatic sands below; yet still the little 
 craft glided over it, till it gently grazed the soft sand, 
 and was stationary. So placidly ended that terrible 
 voyage. 
 
 Mr. Hazel and Miss Rolleston were on shore in a 
 moment, and it was all they could do not to fall upon 
 the land and kiss it. 
 
 Never had the sea disgorged upon that fairy isle such 
 ghastly spectres. They looked, not like people about to 
 die, but that had died, and been buried, and just come 
 out of their graves to land on that blissful shore. We 
 should have started back with horror ; but the birds of 
 that vii^in isle merely stepped out of their way, and did 
 not fly. 
 
 They had landed in paradise. 
 
 Even Welch yielded to that universal longing men 
 have to embrace tie land after perils at sea, and was 
 putting his leg slowly over the gunwale, when Hazel 
 came back to his assistance. He got ashore, but was 
 contented to sit down with his eyes on the dimpled sea 
 and the boat, waiting quietly till the tide should float 
 his friend to his feet again. 
 
 The sea birds walked quietly about him, and minded 
 him not. 
 
198 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Miss EoUeston ascended a green slope very slowly, for 
 her limbs were cramped ; and was lost to view. 
 
 Hazel now went up tlie beach, and took a more minute 
 survey of the neighorhood. 
 
 The west side of the bay was varied. Half of it pre- 
 sented the soft character that marked the bay in general ; 
 but a portion of it was rocky, though streaked with vege- 
 tation, and this part was intersected by narrow clefts, 
 into which, in some rare tempests and high tides com- 
 bined, tongues of the sea had entered, licking the sides 
 of the gullies smooth ; and these occasional visits were 
 marked by the sand, and broken shells, and other dibris 
 the tempestuous and encroaching sea had left behind. 
 
 The true high water mark was several feet lower than 
 these debris, and was clearly marked. On the land above 
 the cliffs he found a tangled jungle of tropical shrubs, 
 into which he did not penetrate, but skirted it, and, 
 walking eastward, came out upon a delicious down or 
 grassy slope, that faced the centre of the bay. It was a 
 gentleman's lawn of a thousand acres, with an extremely 
 gentle slope from the centre of the island down to the 
 sea. 
 
 A river flowing from some distant source ran eastward 
 through this down, but at its verge, and almost encircled 
 it. Hazel traversed the lawn until this river, taking a 
 sudden turn towards the sea, intercepted him at a spot 
 which he immediately fixed on as Helen Rolleston's 
 future residence. 
 
 Four short, thick umbrageous trees stood close to the 
 stream on this side, and on the eastern side was a grove 
 of gigantic palm trees, at whose very ankles the river 
 ran. Indeed, it had undermined one of these palm trees, 
 and that giant at this moment lay all across the stream, 
 leaving a gap through which Hazel's eye could pierce to 
 a great depth among those grand columns ; for they stood 
 
POUIi PLAT. 199 
 
 wide apart, and there was not a vestige of brushwood, 
 juBgle, or even grass, below their enormous crowns. He 
 christened the place St. Helen's on the spot. 
 
 He now dipped his baler into the stream and found it 
 pure and tolerably cool. 
 
 He followed the bend of the stream ; it evaded the 
 slope and took him by its own milder descent to the 
 sands : over these it flowed smooth as glass into the sea. 
 
 Hazel ran to Welch to tell him all he had discovered, 
 and to give him his first water from the island. 
 
 He found a roan-colored pigeon, with a purplish neck, 
 perched on the sick man's foot. The bird shone like a 
 rainbow, and cocked a saucy eye at Hazel, and flew up 
 into the air a few yards, but it soon appeared that fear 
 had little to do with this movement; for, after an airy 
 circle or two, he fanned Hazel's cheek with his fast flap- 
 ping wings, and lighted on the very edge of the baler, 
 and was for sipping. 
 
 " Oh, look here, Welch ! " cried Hazel, in an ecstasy of 
 delight. 
 
 " Ay, sir," said he. " Poor things, they han't a found 
 us out yet." 
 
 The talking puzzled the bird, if it did not alarm him, 
 and he flew up to the nearest tree, and perching there, 
 inspected these new and noisy bipeds at his leisure. 
 
 Hazel now laid his hand on Welch's shoulder and 
 reminded him gently they had a sad duty to perform, 
 which could not be postponed. 
 
 "Right you are, sir," said Welch, "and very kind of 
 you to let me have my way with him. Poor Sam ! " 
 
 "I have found a place," said Hazel, in a low voice. 
 " We can take the boat close to it. But where is Miss 
 Rolleston ? " 
 
 " Oh, she is not far off : she was here just now, and 
 brought me this here little cocoanut, and patted me on 
 
200 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 the back, she did, then ofE again on a cruise. Bless her 
 little heart ! " 
 
 Hazel and Welch then got into the boat, and pushed 
 off without much difficulty, and punted across the bay 
 to one of those clefts we have indicated. It was now 
 nearly high water, and they moored the boat close under 
 the cleft Hazel had selected. 
 
 Then they both got out and went up to the extremity 
 of the cleft, and there, with the axe and with pieces of 
 wood they found there, they scraped out a resting-place 
 for Cooper. This was light work ; for it was all stones, 
 shells, fragments of coral, and dried sear-weed, lying 
 loosely together. But now came a hard task in which 
 Welch could not assist. Hazel unshipped a thwart, and 
 laid the body on it : then by a great effort staggered 
 with the burden up to the grave and deposited it. He 
 was exhausted by the exertion, and had to sit down 
 panting for some time. As soon as he was recovered, he 
 told Welch to stand at the head of the grave, and he 
 stood at the foot, bare-headed, and then from memory 
 he repeated the service of our Church, hardly missing or 
 displacing a word. 
 
 This was no tame recital ; the scene, the circumstances, 
 the very absence of the book, made it tender and solemn. 
 And then Welch repeated those beautiful words after 
 Hazel, and Hjazel let him. And how did he repeat 
 them ? In such a hearty, loving tone, as became one 
 who was about to follow, and all this but a short leave- 
 taking. So uttered for the living as well as the dead, 
 those immortal words had a strange significance and 
 beauty. 
 
 And presently a tender, silvery voice came down to 
 mingle with the deep and solemn tones of the male 
 mourners. It was Helen Eolleston. She had watched 
 most of their movements unseen herself, and now, stand- 
 
FOITL PLAY. 201 
 
 ing at the edge of the ravine, and looking down on them, 
 uttered a soft but thrilling amen to every prayer. When 
 it was over, and the men prepared to fill in the grave, 
 she spoke to Welch in an undertone, and begged leave 
 to pay her tribute first ; and with this, she detached her 
 apron, and held it out to them. Hazel easily climbed up 
 to her, and found her apron was full of sweet-smelling 
 bark and aromatic leaves, whose fragrance filled the air. 
 
 " I want you to strew these over his poor remains," 
 she said. " Oh, not common earth ! He saved our lives. 
 And his last words were, *I love you, Tom.' Oh dear, 
 oh dear, oh dear ! " And with that she gave him the 
 apron, and turned her head away to hide her tears. 
 
 Hazel blessed her for the thought, which, indeed, none 
 but a lady would have had ; and Welch and he, with the 
 tears in their eyes, strewed the spicy leaves first ; and 
 soon a ridge of shingle neatly bound with seaweed 
 marked the sailor's grave. 
 
 Hazel's next care, and that a pressing one, was to pro- 
 vide shelter for the delicate girl and the sick man, whom 
 circumstances had placed under his care. He told Miss 
 Rolleston that Welch and he were going to cross the bay 
 again, and would she be good enough to meet them at 
 the bend of the river where she would find four trees ? 
 She nodded her head and took that road accordingly. 
 Hazel rowed eastward across the bay, and it being now 
 high water, he got the boat into the river itself near the 
 edge of the shore, and, as this river had worn a channel, 
 he contrived with the boat-hook to propel the boat up 
 the stream, to an angle in the bank within forty yards 
 of the four trees. He could get no farther, the stream 
 being now not only shallow, but blocked here and there 
 with great and rough fragments of stone. Hazel pushed 
 the boat into the angle out of the current, and moored 
 her fast. He and Welch then got ashore, and Miss 
 
202 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 EoUeston was standing at the four trees. He went to 
 her and said enthusiastically, " This is to be your house. 
 Is it not a beautiful site ? " 
 
 " Yes, it is a beautiful site, but — forgive me — I really 
 don't see the house," was her reply. 
 
 "But you see the framework." 
 
 Helen looked all about, and then said ruefully, "I 
 suppose I am blind, sir, or else you are dreaming, for I 
 see nothing at all." 
 
 " Why, here's a roof ready made, and the frame of a 
 wall. We have only to wattle a screen between these 
 four uprights." 
 
 "Only to wattle a screen! But I don't know what 
 wattling a screen is. Who does ? " 
 
 " Why, you get some of the canes that grow a little 
 farther up the river, and a certain long wiry grass I have 
 marked down, and then you fix and weave till you make 
 a screen from tree to tree ; this could be patched with 
 wet clay. I know where there is plenty of that. Mean- 
 time see what is done to our hands. The crown of this 
 great palm tree lies at the southern aperture of your 
 house, and blocks it entirely up : that will keep off the 
 only cold wind, the south wind, from you to-night. 
 Then look at these long, spiky leaves interlaced over 
 your hfead. (These trees are screw pines.) There is a 
 roof ready made. You must have another roof under- 
 neath that, but it will do for a day or two." 
 
 " But you will wattle the screen directly," said Helen. 
 "Begin at once, please. I am anxious to see a screen 
 wattled." 
 
 "Well," said Welch, who had joined them, "landsmen 
 are queer folk, the best of 'em. Why, miss, it would 
 take him a week to screen you with rushes and reeds, 
 and them sort of weeds ; and I'd do it in half an hour, 
 if I was the Tom Welch I used to be. Why, there's 
 
FOUL PLAT. 203 
 
 spare canvas enough, in tlie boat to go between tbese 
 four trees breast Mgh, and then there's the foresel 
 besides ; the mainsel is all you and me shall want, sir." 
 
 " Oh, excuse me," said Miss Eolleston, " I will not be 
 sheltered at the expense of my friends. 
 
 " Welch, you are a trump," said Hazel, and ran off for 
 the spare canvas. He brought it, and the carpenter's 
 basket of tools. They went to work, and Miss Eolleston 
 insisted on taking part in it. Finding her so disposed, 
 Hazel said that they had better divide their labors, 
 since the time was short. Accordingly he took the axe 
 and chopped off a great many scales of the palm tree 
 and lighted a great fire between the trees, while the 
 other two worked on the canvas. 
 
 " This is to dry the soil as weU as cook our provisions," 
 said he ; " and now I must go and find food. Is there 
 anything you fancy ? " He turned his head from the 
 fire he was lighting and addressed this question both to 
 Welch and Miss Eolleston. 
 
 Miss Eolleston stared at this question, then smiled, 
 and in the true spirit of a lady, said, " I think I should 
 like a good large cocoanut, if you can find one." She 
 felt sure there was no other eatable thing in the whole 
 island. 
 
 " I wants a cabbage," said Welch, in a loud voice. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Welch, we are not at home," said Miss Eol- 
 leston, blushing at the preposterous demand. 
 
 "No, miss, in Capericorn. Whereby we shan't have 
 to pay nothing for this here cabbage. I'll teU ye, miss : 
 when a sailor comes ashore he always goes in for green 
 vegetables ; for why, he has eaten so much junk and bis- 
 cuit, nature sings out for greens. Me and my shipmates 
 was paid off at Portsmouth last year, and six of us agreed 
 to dine together and each order his dish. Blest if six 
 boiled legs of mutton did not come up smoking hot; 
 
204 pomc PLAY. 
 
 three was with cabbage, and three with turmots. Mine 
 was turmots. But them I don't ask so nigh the Line : 
 don't ye go to think, because I'm sick, and the lady and 
 you is so kind to me, and to him that is arwaiting outside 
 them there shoals for me, as I'm onreasonable ; turmots 
 I wish you both and plenty of 'em, when some whaler 
 gets driven out of her course and picks you up, and 
 carries you into northern latitudes where turmots grow ; 
 but cabbage is my right, cabbage is my due, being paid 
 off in a manner; for the ship is foundered and I'm 
 ashore : cabbage I ask for, as a seaman that has done his 
 duty, and a man that won't live to eat many more of 
 'em; and" (losing his temper), "if you are the man I 
 take you for, you'll run and fetch me a cabbage fresh 
 from the tree ; " (recovering his temper), " I know I 
 didn't ought to ax a parson to shin up a tree for me : 
 but. Lord bless you, there ain't no sarcy little boys 
 a-looking on, and here's a poor fellow mostly dying 
 for it." 
 
 Miss EoUeston looked at Mr. Hazel with alarm in 
 every feature ; and whispered, " Cabbage from the tree. 
 Is he wandering ? " 
 
 Hazel smiled. "Ko," said he. "He has picked up 
 a fable of these seas, that there is a tree which grows 
 cabbages." 
 
 Welch heard him and said, with due warmth, "Of 
 course there is a tree on all these islands, that grows cab- 
 bages ; that was known a hundred years before you was 
 born, and shipmates of mine have eaten them." 
 
 " Excuse me, what those old admirals and buccaneers, 
 that set the legend afloat, were so absurd as to call a 
 cabbage, and your shipmates may have eaten for one, is 
 nothing on earth but the last year's growth of the palm- 
 tree." 
 
 "Palm-tree be ," said Welch: and thereupon en- 
 
FOtTL PLAT. 205" 
 
 sued a hot argmnent, which Helen's good sense cut 
 short. 
 
 "Hr. Hazel," said she, "can you by any possibility 
 get our poor friend the thing he wants ? " 
 
 " Oh, that is quite within the bounds of possibility," 
 said Hazel, dryly. 
 
 "Well, then, suppose you begin by getting him the 
 thing. Then I will boil the thing, and he will eat the 
 thing : and after all that it wiU be time to argue about 
 the name we shall give to the thing." 
 
 The good sense of this struck Mr. Hazel forcibly. He 
 started off at once, armed with the axe, and a net bag 
 Welch had made since he became unfit for heavy labor : 
 he called back to them as he went, to put the pots on. 
 
 Welch and Miss Eolleston complied; and then the 
 sailor showed the lady tow to sew sailor-wise, driving 
 the large needle with the palm of the hand, guarded by 
 a piece of leather. They had nailed two breadths of 
 canvas to the trees on the north and west sides, and run 
 the breadths rapidly together ; and the water was boil- 
 ing and bubbling in the balers, when Miss Eolleston 
 uttered a scream, for Hazel came running over the pros- 
 trate palm-tree as if it was a proper bridge, and lighted 
 in the midst of them. 
 
 "Lot one," said he, cheerfully, and produced from his 
 net some limes, two cocoa-nuts, and a land-turtle ; from 
 this last esculent Miss Eolleston withdrew with undis- 
 guised horror, and it was in vain he assured her it was a 
 great delicacy. 
 
 "No matter : it is a reptile. Oh, please, send it away." 
 
 " The Queen of the Island reprieves you," said he, and 
 put down the terrapin, which went off very leisurely for 
 a reprieved reptile. 
 
 Then Hazel produced a fine bream, which he had 
 found struggling in a rock-pool, the tide having turned, 
 
206 FOXJIi PLAT. 
 
 and three sea crayfish, bigger than any lobster. He 
 chopped their heads off outside, and threw their tails 
 into the pots ; he stuck a piece of pointed wood through 
 the bream, and gave it to Welch to toast; but Welch 
 waved it aside. 
 
 " I see no cabbage," said he, grimly. 
 
 "Oh, I forgot: but that is soon found," said Hazel. 
 " Here, give me the fish, and you take the saw, and ex- 
 amine the head of this palm-tree, which lies at Miss 
 EoUeston's doori Saw away the succulent part of last 
 year's growth, and bring it here." 
 
 Welch got up slowly. 
 
 " I'll go with you, Mr. Welch," said Miss EoUeston. 
 
 She will not be alone with me for a moment, if she can 
 help it, thought Hazel, and sat moody by the fire. But 
 he shook off his sadness, and forced on a cheerful look 
 the moment they came back. They brought with them 
 a vegetable very like the heart of a cabbage, only longer 
 and whiter. 
 
 "There," said Welch, "what d'ye call that ? " 
 
 "The last year's growth of the palm," said Hazel, 
 calmly. 
 
 This vegetable was cut in two, and put into the 
 pots. 
 
 "There, take the toasting-fork again," .said Hazel to 
 Welch, and drew out from his net three huge scallop- 
 shells. " Soup-plates," said he, and washed them in the 
 running stream : then put them before the fire to dry. 
 
 While the fish and vegetable were cooking, he went 
 and cut off some of the leafy, pinnated branches of the 
 palm-tree, and fastened them horizontally above the 
 strips of canvas. Each palm branch traversed a whole 
 side of the bower. This closed the northern and western 
 sides. 
 
 On the southern side, the prostrate palm-tree, on strik- 
 
FOUL PLAY. 207 
 
 ing the ground, had so crushed its boughs and leaves 
 together, as to make a thick wall of foliage. 
 
 Then he took to making forks ; and primitive ones they 
 were. He selected a bough the size of a thick walking 
 stick; sawed it off the tree; sawed a piece six inches 
 long off it, peeled that, split it in four, and, with his 
 knife, gave each piece three points, by merely tapering 
 off and serrating one end ; and so he made a fork in a 
 minute. Then he brought all the rugs and things from 
 the boat, and, the ground being now thoroughly dried by 
 the fire, placed them for seats ; gave each person a large 
 leaf for a plate, besides a scallop-shell ; and served out 
 supper. It was eaten with rare appetite ; the palm-tree 
 vegetable in particular was delicious, tasting between a 
 cabbage and a cocoa-nut. 
 
 When they had supped. Hazel removed the plates and 
 went to the boat. He returned, dragging the foremast 
 and foresail, which were small, and called Welch out. 
 They agreed to rig the mainsail tarpaulin-wise and sleep 
 in the boat. Accordingly they made themselves very 
 busy screening the east side of Miss EoUeston's new 
 abode with the foresail, and fastened a loop and drove a 
 nail into the tree, and looped the sail to it, then suddenly 
 bade her good-night in cheerful tones, and were gone in 
 a moment, leaving her to her repose as they imagined. 
 Hazel in particular, having used all his ingenuity to 
 secure her personal comfort, was now too bent on show- 
 ing her the most delicate respect, and forbearance, to 
 think of anything else. But, justly counting on the 
 delicacy, he had forgotten the timidity of her sex, and 
 her first night in the island was a terribly trying one. 
 
 Thrice she opened her mouth to call Welch and Hazel 
 back, but could not. Yet when their footsteps were out 
 of hearing she would have given the world to have them 
 between her and the perils with which she felt herself 
 surrounded. 
 
208 FOUL PLAY, 
 
 Tigers ; snakes ; scorpions ; savages ! what would be- 
 come of her during the long night ? 
 
 She sat and cowered before the hot embers. She 
 listened to what seemed the angry roar of the sea. 
 What with the stillness of the night and her sharpened 
 senses, she heard it all round the island. She seemed 
 environed with peril, and yet surrounded by desolation. 
 No one at hand to save her in time from a wild beast. 
 No one anywhere near except a sick sailor, and one she 
 would almost rather die than call singly to her aid, for 
 he had once told her he loved her. 
 
 " Oh papa ; oh Arthur ! " she cried. "Are you praying 
 for your poor Helen ? " Then she wept and prayed ; 
 and half nerved herself to bear the worst. Finally her 
 vague fears completely overmastered her. Then she had 
 recourse to a stratagem that belongs to her sex — she 
 hid herself from the danger, and the danger from her : 
 she covered herself face and all, and so lay trembling, 
 and longing for the day. 
 
 At the first streak of dawn she fled from her place of 
 torture, and after plunging her face and hands in the 
 river, which did her a world of good, she went off, and 
 entered the jungle, and searched it closely, so far as she 
 could penetrate it. Soon she heard " Miss EoUeston " 
 called in anxious tones. But she tossed her little head, 
 and revenged herself for her night of agony by not 
 replying. 
 
 However, Nature took her in hand ; imperious hunger 
 drew her back to her late place of torture; and there 
 she found a fire, and Hazel cooking crayfish. She ate 
 the crayfish heartily, and drank cocoanut milk out of 
 half a cocoanut, which the ingenious Hazel had already 
 sawn, polished, and mounted for her. 
 
 After that, Hazel's whole day was occupied in stripping 
 a tree that stood on the high western promontory of the 
 
FOUL PLAY. 209 
 
 bay, and btiilding up the materials of a bonfire a few 
 yards from it, that if any whaler should stray that way, 
 they might not be at a loss for means to attract her 
 attention. 
 
 Welch was very ill aU day, and Miss KoUeston nursed 
 him. He got about towards evening, and Miss Rolleston 
 asked him rather timidly if he could put her up a 
 bell-rope. 
 
 " Why, yes, miss," said Welch, " that is easy enough ; 
 but I don't see no bell." 
 
 Oh, she did not want a bell — she only wanted a bell- 
 rope. 
 
 Hazel came up during this conversation, and she then 
 gave her reason. 
 
 " Because, then, if Mr. Welch is ill in the night and 
 wants me, I could come to him. Or — " finding herself 
 getting near the real reason, she stopped short. 
 
 "Or what?" inquired Hazel, eagerly. 
 
 She replied to Welch. "When tigers and things 
 come to me, I can let you know, Mr. Welch — if you 
 have any curiosity about the result of their visit." 
 
 " Tigers ! " said Hazel, in answer to this side slap ; 
 ''there are no tigers here; no large animals of prey 
 exist in the Pacific." 
 
 " What makes you think that ? " 
 
 " It is notorious : naturalists are agreed." 
 
 "But I am not. I heard noises all night. And little 
 I expected that anything of me would be left this morn- 
 ing, except, perhaps, my back hair. Mr. Welch, you are 
 clever at rigging things — that is what you call it — and 
 so please rig me a bell-rope, then I shall not be eaten up 
 alive, without creating some little disturbance." 
 
 " I'll do it, miss," said Welch, " this very night." 
 
 Hazel said nothing, but pondered. Accordingly, that 
 very evening a piece of stout twine, with a stone at 
 14 
 
210 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 the end of it, hung down from the roof of Helen's 
 house ; and this twine clove the air, until it reached a 
 ring upon the mainmast of the cutter; thence it de- 
 scended, and was to be made fast to something or some- 
 body. The young lady inquired no further. The very 
 sight of this bell-rope was a great comfort to her; it 
 re-united her to civilized life. 
 
 That night she lay down, and quaked considerably 
 less. Yet she woke several times ; and an hour before 
 daylight she heard distinctly a noise that made her 
 flesh creep. It was like the snoring of some great 
 animals. This horrible sound was faint and distant; 
 but she heard it between the roll of the waves, and that 
 showed it was not the sea roaring; she hid herself in 
 her rugs, and cowered till daybreak. A score of times 
 she was minded to pull her bell-rope; but always a 
 womanly feeling, strong as her love of life, withheld 
 her. " Time to pull that bell-rope when the danger is 
 present or imminent," she thought to herself. "The 
 thing will come smelling about before it attacks me, 
 and then I will pull the bell;" and so she passed an 
 hour of agony. 
 
 Next morning at daybreak. Hazel met her just issuing 
 from her hut, and pointing to his net told her he was 
 going to forage ; and would she be good enough to make 
 the fire and have boiling water ready ; he was sorry to 
 trouble her; but poor Welch was worse this morning. 
 Miss EoUeston cut short his excuses. "Pray do not 
 take me for a child ; of course I will light the fire, and 
 boil the water. Only I have no lucifer matches." 
 
 "Here is one," said he; "light it with great precau- 
 tion. I have but nine. I carry them wrapped in oil- 
 skin ; for if anything happen to them, Heaven help us." 
 
 He crossed the prostrate palm-tree, and dived into the 
 wood.' It was a large beautiful wood, and except at the 
 
fottIj play. 211 
 
 western edge, the trees were all of the palm-tree genus, 
 but contained several species, including the cocoanut 
 tree. The turf ran under these trees for about forty 
 yards, and then died gradually away under the same 
 thick shade which destroyed all other vegetation in this 
 wood, and made it so easy to see and traveL 
 
 He gathered a few oocoanuts that had burst out of 
 their ripe pods and fallen to the ground ; and ran on till 
 he reached a belt of trees and shrubs, that bounded the 
 palm forest. Here his progress was no longer easy : 
 but he found trees covered with a smaU fruit resembling 
 quinces in every particular, of look, taste, and smell, 
 and that made him persevere, since it was most important 
 to learn the useful products of the island. Presently 
 he burst through some brushwood into a swampy bottom 
 surrounded by low trees, and instantly a dozen large 
 birds of the osprey kind rose flapping into the air like 
 windmills rising. He was quite startled by the whirring 
 and flapping, and not a little amazed at the appearance 
 of the place. Here was a very charnel house ; so thick 
 lay the shells, skeletons, and loose bones of fish. Here, 
 too, he found a terrapin killed, but not eaten : and also 
 some fish, more or less pecked. "Aha! my worthy 
 executioners, much obliged," said he : " you have saved 
 me that job : " and into the bag went the terrapin, and 
 two plump fish, but slightly mutilated. Before he had 
 gone many yards, back came the sailing wings, and the 
 birds settled again before his eyes. The rest of the low 
 wood was but thin, and he soon emerged upon the open 
 country: but it was most unpromising; and fitter for 
 geese than men : a vast sedgy swamp with water in the 
 middle, thin fringes of great fern-trees, and here and 
 there a disconsolate tree like a weeping willow, and at 
 the end of this lake and swamp which altogether formed 
 a triangle, was a barren hiU without a blade of vegeta- 
 
212 rouL PLAY. 
 
 tion on it, and a sort of jagged summit Hazel did not at 
 all like the look of. Volcanic ! 
 
 Somewhat dismayed at finding so large a slice of the 
 island worthless, he returned through the wood guiding 
 himself due west by his pocket compass, and so got 
 down to the shore, where he found scallops and crayfish 
 in incredible abundance. Literally he had only to go 
 into the water and gather them. But " enough " is as 
 good as " a feast." He ran to the pots with his miscel- 
 laneous bag, and was not received according to his 
 deserts. Miss RoUeston told him a little severely, the 
 water had been boiling a long time. Then he produced 
 his provender, by way of excuse. 
 
 " Tortoises again ! " said she, and shuddered visibly. 
 
 But the quinces and cocoanuts were graciously re- 
 ceived. Welch, however, cried out for cabbage. " What 
 am I to do ? " said Hazel. " For every such cabbage, a 
 king must die." 
 
 " Goodness me ! " 
 
 "A monarch of the grove." 
 
 " Oh, a King Log. Why, then, down with them all, of 
 course : sooner than dear Mr. Welch should go without 
 his cabbage." 
 
 He cast a look of admiration on her, which she 
 avoided, and very soon his axe was heard ringing in the 
 wood hard by. Then came a loud crash. Then another. 
 Hazel came running with the cabbage, and a cocoa pod. 
 " There," said he, " and there are a hundred more about. 
 Whilst you cook that for Welch, I will store them." 
 Accordingly he returned to the wood with his net, and 
 soon came back with five pods in it, each as big as a 
 large pumpkin. 
 
 He chucked these one at a time across the river, and 
 then went for more. It took him all the afternoon to 
 get all the pods across the river. He was obliged to sit 
 down and rest. 
 
FOUL PLAT. 213 
 
 But a suggestion of Helen's soon set him to. work 
 again. 
 
 " You were kind enough to say you would store these 
 for me. Could you not store them so as to wall out 
 those terrible beasts with them ? " 
 
 "What terrible beasts ? " 
 
 " That roar so all night, and don't eat us, only because 
 they have not found out we are here yet. But they 
 will." 
 
 "I deny their existence," said Hazel; "but I'll wall 
 them out all the same," said he. 
 
 "Pray do," said Helen. "WaU them out first, and 
 disjffove them afterwards; I shall be better able to 
 believe they don't exist, when they are well walled out 
 — much." 
 
 Hazel went to work, and, with her assistance, laid 
 cocoa-pods, two wide and three deep, outside the northern 
 and western side of her leafy bower, and he promised to 
 complete the walls by the same means. 
 
 They all then supped together, and, to oblige him, she 
 ate a little of the terrapin, and when they parted for the 
 night, she thanked him and said, with a deep blush, 
 " You have been a good friend to me — of late." 
 
 He colored high, and his eyes sparkled with delight ; 
 and she noticed, and almost wished she had kept her 
 gratitude to herseH. 
 
 That night, what with her bell-rope and her little bit 
 of a wall, she was somewhat less timorous, and went to 
 sleep early. 
 
 But even in sleep she was watchful, and she was 
 awakened by a slight sound in the neighborhood of the 
 boat. 
 
 She lay watching, but did not stir. 
 
 Presently she heard a footstep. 
 
 With a stifled cry she bounded up, and her first 
 
214 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 impulse was to rush out of the tent. But she conquered 
 this, and gliding to the south side of her bower, she 
 peered through the palm-leaves, and the first thing she 
 saw was the figure of a man standing between her and 
 the boat. 
 
 She drew her breath hard. The outline of the man 
 was somewhat indistinct. But it was not a savage : the 
 man was clothed ; and his stature betrayed him. 
 
 He stood still for some time. " He is listening to see 
 if I am awake," said Helen, to herself. 
 
 The figure moved towards her bower. 
 
 Then all in a moment she became another woman. 
 She did not rely on her bell-rope ; she felt it was fast to 
 nothing that could help her. She looked round for no 
 weapon ; she trusted to herself. She drew herself has- 
 tily up, and folded her arms ; her bosom panted, but her 
 cheek never paled. Her modesty was alarmed; her 
 blood was up, and life or death was nothing to her. 
 
 The footsteps came nearer ; they stopped at her door ; 
 they Went north ; they came back south. They kept her 
 in this high-wrought attitude for half an hour. Then 
 they retired softly ; and when they were gone, she gave 
 way, and fell on her knees, and began to cry hysterically. 
 Then she got calmer, and then she wondered, and puz- 
 zled herself ; but she slept no more that night. 
 
 In the morning she found that the fire was lighted on 
 a sort of shelf close to the boat. Mr. Hazel had cut the 
 shelf and lighted the fire there for Welch's sake, who 
 had complained of cold in the night. 
 
 Whilst Hazel was ^one for the crayfish, Welch asked 
 Helen to go for her prayer-book. She brought it directly, 
 and turned the leaves to find the prayers for the sick. 
 But she was soon undeceived as to his intention. 
 
 "Sam had it wrote down how the Proserpine was 
 foundered, and I should like to lie alongside my mess- 
 
FOUL PLAT. 215 
 
 mate on that there paper, as well as in t'other place " 
 (meaning the grave). " Begin as Sam did, that this is 
 my last word." 
 
 " Oh, I hope not. Oh, Mr. Welch, pray do not leave 
 me!" 
 
 " Well, well, then, never mind that ; but just put down 
 as I heard Sam ; and his dying words, that the parson 
 took down, were the truth." 
 
 " I have written that." 
 
 "And that the two holes was on her port-side, and 
 seven foot from her stam-post; and I say them very 
 augers, that is in our cutter, made them holes. Set 
 down that." 
 
 " It is down." 
 
 "Then I'll put my mark under it; and you are my 
 witness." 
 
 Helen, anxious to please him in everything, showed 
 him where to put his mark. He did so ; and she signed 
 her name as his witness. 
 
 "And now, Mr. Welch," said she, "do not you fret 
 about the loss of the ship ; you should rather think how 
 good Providence has been to us in saving us three out of 
 so many that sailed in that poor ship. That Wylie was 
 a wicked man ; but he is drowned, or starved, no doubt, 
 and there is an end of him. You are alive, and we are 
 all three to see- Old England again. But to live, you 
 must eat; and so now do pray make a good breakfast 
 to-day. TeU me what you can fancy. A cabbage ? " 
 
 " What ! you own it is a cabbage ? " 
 
 "Of course I do," said Helen, coaxing. "You must 
 excuse Mr. Hazel ; these learned men are so crotchety in 
 some things, and go by books ; but you and I go by our 
 senses, and to us a cabbage is a cabbage, grow where it 
 will. Will you have one ? " 
 
 "No, miss, not this morning. What I wants this 
 
216 FOXJL PLAY. 
 
 morning very bad, indeed, it is — I wants a drink made 
 of them sweet-smelling leaves, like as you strewed over 
 my messmate — the Lord in heaven bless you for it." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Welch ! that is a curious fancy : but you shall 
 not ask me twice for anything; the jungle is fuU of 
 them, and I'll fetch you some in five minutes. So you 
 must boil the water." 
 
 She scudded away to the jungle, and soon returned 
 with some aromatic leaves. Whilst they were infusing, 
 Hazel came up, and on being informed of Welch's fancy, 
 made no opposition ; but, on the contrary, said that such 
 men had sometimes very happy inspirations. He tasted 
 it, however, and said the smell was the best part of it 
 in his opinion. He then put it aside to cool for the sick 
 man's use. 
 
 They ate their usual breakfast, and then Welch sipped 
 his spice tea, as he called it. Morning and afternoon he 
 drank copious draiights of it, and seemed to get suddenly 
 better, and told them not to hang about him any longer, 
 but go to their work : he was all right now. 
 
 To humor him they went off in different directions : 
 Hazel with his axe to level cocoanut-trees, and Helen to 
 search for fruits in the jungle. 
 
 She came back in about an hour, very proud of some 
 pods she had found with nutmegs inside them. She ran 
 to Welch. He was not in the boat. She saw his waist- 
 coat, however, folded and lying on the thwart; so she 
 knew he could not be far off, and concluded he was in 
 her bower. But he was not there, and she called to Mr. 
 Hazel. He came to the side of the river laden with 
 cocoa-nuts. 
 
 " Is he with you ? " said Helen. 
 
 "Who? Welch? no." 
 
 "Well, then, he is not here. Oh, dear! something is 
 the matter." 
 
fouIj play. 217 
 
 Hazel came across, directly. And they both began to 
 run anxiously to every part whence they could command 
 a view to any distance. 
 
 They could not see bim anywhere, and met, with 
 blank faces, at the bower. 
 
 Then Helen made a discovery. 
 
 This very day, while hanging about the place, Hazel 
 had torn up from the edge of the river an old trunk, 
 whose roots had been loosened by the water washing 
 away the earth that held them, and this stump he had 
 set up in her bower for a table, after sawing the roots 
 down into legs. Well, on the smooth part of this table, 
 lay a little pile of money, a ring with a large pearl in it, 
 and two gold ear-rings Helen had often noticed in 
 Welch's ears. 
 
 She pointed at these and turned pale. Then suddenly 
 waving her hand to Hazel to follow her, she darted out 
 of the bower, and, in a moment, she was at the boat. 
 
 There she found, beside his waistcoat, his knife, and a 
 little pile of money placed carefully on the thwart ; and, 
 underneath it, his jacket rolled up, and his shoes and 
 sailor's cap, all put neatly and in order. 
 
 Hazel found her looking at them. He began to have 
 vague misgivings. "What does this mean?" he said, 
 faintly. 
 
 " ' What does it mean ! ' " cried Helen, in agony. 
 "Don't you see? A legacy! The poor thing has 
 divided his little all. Oh, my heart ! What has become 
 of him?" Then, with one of those inspirations her 
 sex have, she cried, " Ah ! Cooper's grave ! " 
 
 Hazel, though not so quick as she was, caught her 
 meaning at a word, and flew down the slope to the sear 
 shore. The tide was out : a long irregular track of foot- 
 steps indented the sand. He stopped a moment and 
 looked at them : they pointed towards the cleft where 
 
218 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 the grave was. He followed them all across the sand. 
 They entered the cleft, and did not return. Full of 
 heavy foreboding, he rushed into the cleft. 
 
 Yes : his arms hanging on each side of the grave, and 
 his cheek laid gently on it, there lay Tom Welch, with 
 a loving smile on his dead face. Only a man: yet 
 faithful as a dog. 
 
 Hazel went back slowly, and crying. Of all men 
 living, he could best appreciate fidelity ; and mourn its 
 fate. 
 
 But, as he drew near Helen, he dried his eyes ; for it 
 was his duty to comfort her. 
 
 She had at first endeavored to follow him ; but after 
 a few steps her knees smote together, and she was fain 
 to sit down on the grassy slope that overlooked the sea. 
 
 The sun was setting huge and red over that vast and 
 peaceful expanse. 
 
 She put her hands to her head, and sick at heart, 
 looked heavily at that glorious and peaceful sight. 
 Hazel came up to her. She looked at his face, and that 
 look was enough for her. She rocked herself gently to 
 and fro. 
 
 " Yes," said he in a broken voice. " He was there — 
 Quite dead." 
 
 He sat gently down by her side, and looked at that 
 setting sun and illimitable ocean, and his heart felt 
 deadly sad. " He is gone — and we are alone — on this 
 island." 
 
 The man said this in one sense only ; but the woman 
 heard it in two. 
 
 Alone ! 
 
 She glanced timidly round at him, and without rising, 
 edged a little way from him, and wept in silence. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 219 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Afteb a long silence, Hazel asked her in a low voice 
 if she could be there in half an hour. She said yes, in 
 the same tone, but without turning her head. On reach- 
 ing the graves, she found that Hazel had spared her a 
 sad sight ; nothing remained but to perform the service. 
 When it was over she went slowly away in deep distress 
 on more accounts than one. In due course Hazel came 
 to her bower, but she was not there. Then he lighted 
 the fire, and prepared everything for supper; and he 
 was so busy, and her foot so light, he did not hear her 
 come. But, by and by, lifting his head, he saw her look- 
 ing wistfully at him, as if she would read his soul in his 
 minutest actions. He started and brightened all over 
 with pleasure at the sudden sight of her, and said 
 eagerly, "Your supper is quite ready." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said she, sadly and coldly (she had 
 noted that expression of joy), " I have no appetite ; do 
 not wait for me." And soon after strolled away again. 
 
 Hazel was dumfounded. There was now no mis- 
 taking her manner ; it was chilly and reserved all of a 
 sudden. It wounded him ; but he behaved like a man. 
 What ! I keep her out of her own house, do I ? said he 
 to himself. He started up, took a fish out of the pot, 
 wrapped it in a leaf, and stalked off to his boat. Then 
 he ate a little of the fish, threw the rest away, and went 
 down upon the sands, and paced them in a sad and 
 bitter mood. 
 
 But the night calmed him, and some hours of tranquil 
 thought brought him fortitude, patience, and a clearer 
 
220 FOTJL PLAT. 
 
 understanding. He went to his boat, elevated by gener- 
 ous and delicate resolutions. Now, -worthy resolves are 
 tranquillizing, and he slept profoundly. 
 
 Not so she, whose sudden but very natural change of 
 demeanor had hurt him. When she returned and found 
 he was gone for the night, she began to be afraid she 
 had offended him. For this and other reasons she passed 
 the night in sore perplexity, and did not sleep till morn- 
 ing; and so she overslept her usual time. However, 
 when she was up, she determined to find her own break- 
 fast ; she felt it would not do to be too dependent, and 
 on a person of uncertain humor ; such for the moment 
 she chose to pretend to herself was Hazel. Accordingly 
 she went down to the sea to look for crayfish. She 
 found abundance. There they lay in the water; you 
 had but to stoop and pick them up. 
 
 But alas ! they were black, lively, viperish ; she went 
 with no great relish for the task to take one up; it 
 wriggled maliciously : she dropped it, and at that very 
 moment, by a curious coincidence, remembered she was 
 sick and tired of crayfish ; she would breakfast on fruits. 
 She crossed the sand, took off her shoes, and paddled 
 through the river, and, having put on her shoes again, 
 was about to walk up through some rank grass to the big 
 wood, when she heard a voice behind her, and it was 
 Mr. Hazel. She bit her lip (it was broad daylight 
 now), and prepared quietly to discourage this excessive 
 assiduity. He came up to her panting a little, and taking 
 off his hat, said, with marked respect, " I beg your par- 
 don, Miss KoUeston, but I know you hate reptiles ; now 
 there are a few snakes in that long grass : not poisonous 
 ones." 
 
 "Snakes!" cried Helen; "let me get home: there — 
 I'll go without my breakfast." 
 
 "Oh, I hope not," said Hazel, ruefully; "why, I have 
 
FOtTL PLAY. 221 
 
 been rather fortunate this morning, and it is all 
 ready." 
 
 " That is a different thing," said Helen, graciously ; 
 "you shaU not have your trouble for nothing." 
 
 Directly after breakfast. Hazel took his axe and some 
 rope from the boat, and went off in a great hurry to the 
 jungle. In half an hour or so, he returned, dragging 
 a large conical shrub, armed "with spikes for leaves, 
 incredibly dense and prickly. 
 
 " There," said he, " there's a vegetable, porcupine for 
 you. This is your best defence against that roaring 
 bugbear." 
 
 "That little tree," said Helen; "the tiger would soon 
 jump over that." 
 
 "Ay, but not over this and sixty more; a wall of 
 stilettos. Don't touch it, please." 
 
 He worked very hard all day, and raised a low ram- 
 part of those prickly trees ; but it only went round two 
 sides and a half of the bowey. So then he said he had 
 failed again ; and lay down worn out by fatigue. 
 
 Helen Eolleston, though dejected herself, could not 
 help pitying him for his exhaustion in her service, and 
 for his bleeding hands ; she undertook the cooking, and 
 urged him kindly to eat of every dish; and when he 
 rose to go, she thanked him with as much feeliiig as 
 modesty for the great pains he had taken to lessen those 
 fears of hers, which she saw he did not share. 
 
 These kind words more than repaid him. He went 
 to his little den in a glow of spirits ; and the next morn- 
 ing went off in a violent hurry, and, for once, seemed 
 glad to get away from her. 
 
 "Poor Mr. Hazel," said she, softly, and watched him 
 out of sight. Then she went to the high point where he 
 had barked a tree ; and looked far and wide for a sail. 
 The air was wonderfully clear ; the whole ocean seemed 
 in sight : but all was blank. 
 
222 POUL PLAY. 
 
 A great awe fell upon her, and sickness of heart ; and 
 then first she began to fear she was out of the known 
 world, and might die on that island ; or never be found 
 by the present generation: and this sickening fear lurked 
 in her from that hour, and led to consequences which 
 will be related shortly. 
 
 She did not return for a long while, and when she did, 
 she found Hazel had completed her fortifications. He 
 invited her to explore the western part of the island, 
 but she declined. 
 
 " Thank you," said she, " not to-day ; there is some- 
 thing to be done at home. I have been comparing my 
 abode with yours, and the contrast makes me uncom- 
 fortable, if it doesn't you. Oblige me by building 
 yourself a house." 
 
 " What, in an afternoon ? " 
 
 " Well, at all events, you must roof the boat, or some- 
 thing. There, I'll sit by and — what shall I do, whilst 
 you are working to oblige me ? " 
 
 Hazel reflected a minute, and then asked her if she 
 could plait. She said she could as far as five strands. 
 
 " And net, of course ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes." 
 
 " Then, if you will make a fishing-net of cocoa-nut fibre, 
 I will soon give myself all the shelter a healthy man 
 requires in this climate." 
 
 The boat lay in a little triangular creek ; the surround- 
 ing earth was alluvial clay ; a sort of black cheesy mould, 
 stiff, but kindly to work. Hazel contrived to cut and 
 chisel it out with a clumsy wooden spade he had made, 
 and, throwing it to the sides, raised, by degrees, two mud 
 banks, one on each side the boat, and at last he dug so 
 deep that he was enabled to draw the boat another yard 
 inland. 
 
 As Helen sat by, netting, and forcing a smile now and 
 
FOtTL PLAY. 223 
 
 then though sad at heart, he was on his mettle, and the 
 mud walls rose rapidly. He squared their inner sides 
 with the spade. When he had done, the boat lay in a 
 hollow, the walls of which, half natural, half artificial, 
 were five feet above her gunwale, and, of course, eight 
 feet above her bottom, in which Hazel used to lie at 
 night. He then laid the mainsail across so as to roof 
 the stem part of the boat, and put four heavy stones on 
 it, lest a sudden gust of wind might lift it. 
 
 Helen said it was all very clever, but she doubted 
 whether it would keep out much rain. 
 
 "More than yours will," said Hazel, "and that is a 
 very serious thing. In your state of health a wetting 
 might be fatal. But to-morrow, if you please, I will 
 examine our resources, and lay our whole situation before 
 you, and ask your advice." 
 
 Next morning he kept his word, and laid their case 
 before her. 
 
 He said, "We are here on an island that has probably 
 been seen, and disregarded, by a few whalers, but is not 
 known to navigators, nor down on any chart. There is a 
 wide range of vegetation, proving a delightful climate on 
 the whole and one particularly suited to you, whose lungs 
 are delicate. But then, comparing the beds of the rivers 
 with the banks, a tremendous fall of rain is indicated. 
 The rainy months (in these latitudes) are at hand, and if 
 those rains catch us in our present condition, it will be a 
 calamity. You have no roof to keep it out. I tremble 
 when I think of it. This is my main anxiety. My next 
 is about our sustenance during the rains ; we have no 
 stores under cover: no fuel, no provisions, but a few 
 cocoa-nuts. We use two lucifer matches a day ; and what 
 is to become of us at that rate ? In theory, fire can be 
 got by rubbing two pieces of wood together, — Selkirk is 
 said to have so obtained it from pimento wood on Juan 
 
224 FOtrii PLAY. 
 
 Fernandez ; but in fact, I believe, the art is confined to 
 savages. I never met a civilized man who could do it, 
 and I have questioned scores of voyagers. As for my 
 weapons, they consist of a boat-hook and an axe ; no gun, 
 no harpoon, no bow, no lance. My tools are a blunt saw, 
 a blunter axe, a wooden spade, two great augers, — that, I 
 believe, had a hand in bringing us here, but have not 
 been any use to us since, — a centre-bit, two planes, a 
 hammer, a pair of pincers, two bradawls, three gimlets, 
 two scrapers, a plumb-lead and line, a large pair of 
 scissors, — and you have a small pair, — two gauges, a 
 screw-driver, five clasp knives, a few screws and nails of 
 various sizes, two small barrels, two bags, two tin bowls, 
 two wooden bowls, and the shell of a turtle, whose skele- 
 ton I found on the shore, and that is a very good soup 
 tureen, only we have no meat to make soup with." 
 
 "Well, sir," said Miss EoUeston resignedly, "we can 
 but kneel down and die." 
 
 "That would be cutting the Gordian knot, indeed," 
 said Hazel. "What! die to shirk a few difilculties? No. 
 I have three propositions to lay before you. 1st, That I 
 hereby give up walking and take to running, time is so 
 precious. 2d, That we both work by night as well as 
 day. 3d, That we each tell the other our principal wants, 
 so that there may be four eyes on the look-out, as we go, 
 instead of two." 
 
 " I consent," said Helen. "Pray what are your waiits ? " 
 
 "Iron, oil, salt, tar, a bellows, a pickaxe, thread, nets, 
 light matting for roofs, bricks, chimney-pots, jars, glass, 
 animal food, some variety of vegetable food, and so on. 
 Now tell me your wants." 
 
 " Well, I want — impossibilities." 
 
 "Enumerate them." 
 
 "What is the use?" 
 
 "It is the method we have agreed upon." 
 
FOUIi PLAY. 226 
 
 " Oh, very well, then. I want — a sponge." 
 
 "Good. What next?" 
 
 " I have broken my comb." 
 
 "Good." 
 
 "I'm glad you think so. I want — oh, Mr. Hazel, what 
 is the use ? — well, I want a looking-glass." 
 
 « Great Heavens ! What for ? " 
 
 " Oh, never mind, I want one ; and some more towels, 
 and some soap, and a few hair-pins, and some elastic 
 bands, and some pens, ink, and paper, to write my feel- 
 ings down in this island for nobody ever to see." 
 
 When she began Hazel looked bright, but the list was 
 like a wasp, its sting lay in its tail. However, he put a 
 good face on it. " I'll try and get you all those things, 
 only give me time. Do you know, I am writing a diction- 
 ary on a novel method." 
 
 " That means on the sand." 
 
 " No ; the work is suspended for the present. But two 
 of the definitions in it are : Difficulties, things to be 
 subdued; Impossibilities, things to be trampled on." 
 And so he tried to keep her heart up. 
 
 She strolled towards the jungle ; and he got his spade,* 
 and went post-haste to his clay-pit. 
 
 He made a quantity of bricks and tiles, and brought 
 them home, and put them to dry in the sun. He then 
 tried to make a large narrow-necked vessel, and failed 
 utterly ; so utterly that he lay down flat on his back and 
 accepted failure for full twenty minutes. Then he got 
 up and turned the dead failure into a great rude platter 
 like a shallow milk-pan. Leaving all these to dry and 
 set before he baked them, he went ofE to the marsh for 
 fern leaves. He made several trips, and raised quite a 
 stack of them. By this time the sun had operated on 
 his thinner pottery; so he laid down six of his large 
 thick tiles, and lighted a fire on them with dry banana 
 15 
 
226 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 leaves, and cocoa-nut, etc., and such light combustibles, 
 until he had heated and hardened the clay ; then he put 
 the ashes on one side, and swept the clay clean ; then he 
 put the fire on again, and made it hotter and hotter, till 
 the clay began to redden. 
 
 While he was thus occupied. Miss EoUeston came from 
 the jungle carrying vegetable treasures in her apron. 
 First she produced some golden apples -with reddish 
 leaves. 
 
 " There," said she ; " and they smell delicious." 
 
 Hazel eyed them keenly. 
 
 " You have not eaten any of them ? " 
 
 "What! by myself?" said Helen. 
 
 " Thank Heaven ! " said Hazel, turning pale. " These 
 are the manchanilla, the poison apple of the Pacific." 
 
 " Poison ! " said Helen, alarmed in her turn. 
 
 "Well, I don't know that they are poison ; but travellers 
 give them a very bad name. The birds never peck them, 
 and I have read that even the leaves falling into still 
 water have killed the fish. You will not eat anything 
 here till you have shown it me, will you?" said he 
 imploringly. 
 
 " No, no," said Helen, and sat down with her hand to 
 her heart a minute. "And I was so pleased when I found 
 them," she said ; " they reminded me of home. I wonder 
 whether these are poison, too?" and she opened her 
 apron wide, and showed him some long yellow pods, with 
 red specks, something like a very large banana. 
 
 "Ah, that is a very different affair," said Hazel 
 delighted; "these are plantains, and the greatest find 
 we have made yet. The fruit is meat, the wood is thread, 
 and the leaf is shelter and clothes. The fruit is good 
 raw, and better baked, as you shall see ; and I believe 
 this is the first time the dinner and the dish were both, 
 baked together," 
 
FOTJIi PLAY. 227 
 
 He cleared the now heated hearth, put the meat and 
 fruit on it, then placed his great platter over it, and 
 heaped fire round the platter, and light combustibles 
 over it. And, in a word the platter and the dinner 
 under it were both baked. Hazel removed the platter 
 or milk-pan, and served the dinner in it. 
 
 A lady and gentleman cast upon a desert island must 
 use their eyes, hands, and feet, in earnest, or die the 
 death of fools. And the first week these two passed 
 was, therefore, mainly characterized by hard work, and 
 the invention that is the natural fruit of necessity. This 
 it was our duty to show, or else give a thoroughly false 
 picture of human life. 
 
 But, as to the manner of working, that varies greatly, 
 according to the sentiments of the heart. 
 
 Helen RoUeston worked well and neatly. She invented 
 but little : her execution of what she did was superior to 
 Mr. Hazel's. She showed considerable tact in adapting 
 new products to old purposes. She made as follows : — 
 
 1. Thick mattress, stuffed with vegetable hair and 
 wool. The hair was a cypress moss dried, and the wool 
 was the soft coating of the fern-trees. This mattress 
 was made with plantain-leaves, sewed together with the 
 thread furnished by the tree itself, and doubled at the 
 edges. 
 
 2. A long shallow net — cocoBr-fibre. 
 
 3. A great quantity of stout grass rope, and light but 
 close matting for the roof. 
 
 But, while she worked, her mind was often far away, 
 and her heart in a tumult of fear, trouble, shame, and 
 perplexity, which increased rather than diminished as 
 the days rolled by and brought no ship to the island. 
 On the other hand, she was deeply grateful to Mr. Hazel 
 — as well she might. But she found many little oppor- 
 tunities of showing that sentiment to him. That war of 
 
228 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 sentiments whicli agitated her, as a lady affianced by her 
 own consent to Arthur Wardlaw, she suppressed a;ad 
 hid from him as long as she could. 
 
 Now it is the nature of suppressed sentiments to 
 accumulate force. 
 
 To Hazel, on the contrary, the feverish labor of the 
 first three weeks was an unmixed joy. He was working, 
 not only for the comfort, but the health, and even the 
 life, of the lady he loved ; a life she had herself despaired 
 of not long ago. 
 
 These sentiments made his hoineliest work poetical : 
 it was in this spirit he heightened his own mud banks 
 in the centre, and set up brick fireplaces with hearth and 
 chimney, one on each side : and now did all the cooking ; 
 for he found the smoke from wood made Miss RoUeston 
 cough. He also made a number of pigeon-holes in his 
 mud-walls and lined them with clay. One of these he 
 dried with fire, and made a pottery door lo it, and there 
 kept the lucifer box. He made a vast number of bricksi, 
 but~did nothing with them. After several disheartejiing 
 failures he made two large pots, and two great pans, 
 that would all four bear fire under them, and in the 
 pans he boiled sea water till it all evaporated and left 
 him a sediment of salt. This was a great addition to 
 their food, and he managed also to put by a little. But 
 it was a slow and inefficient process. 
 
 But that was nothing compared to the zest with which 
 he attacked the most important work of all, and the 
 longest, — Helen's hut or bower. He had no experience 
 or skill as a carpenter, but he had Love and Brains. He 
 found sandstones, some harsh, some fine, with which he 
 contrived to sharpen his axe and saw. He fixed some 
 uprights between the four trees. He let stout horizontal 
 bars into the trees, and bound them to the uprights with 
 Helen's grass-rope. Smaller horizontal bars at intervals 
 
FOUL PLAY. 229 
 
 kept the prickly ramparts from being driven in by a 
 sudden gust. The canvas walls were removed, and the 
 nails stored in a pigeon-hole, and a stout net-work sub- 
 stituted, to which huge plantain leaves were cunningly 
 fastened with plantain thread. The roof was double: 
 first that extraordinary mass of spiked leaves which the 
 four trees threw out, then, several feet under that, the 
 huge piece of matting the pair had made. This was 
 strengthened by double strips of canvas at the edges and 
 in the centre, and by single strips in other parts. A 
 great many cords and strings made of that long silky 
 grass peculiar to the island were sewn to the canvas- 
 strengthened edges, and so it was fastened to the trees, 
 and to the horizontal bars. 
 
 When this work drew close to its completion, there 
 came a new disappointment. He had the mortification 
 of seeing that she for whom it was all done did not share 
 his complacency. 
 
 The strife of sentiments in her mind seemed to be 
 undermining her self-command, and, at times, even her 
 good-breeding. She often let her work fall, and brooded 
 for hours. She spoke sometimes fretfully, and the next 
 moment with a slight excess of civility. She wandered 
 away from him, and from his labors for her comfort, and 
 passed hours at Telegraph Point, eying the illimitable 
 ocean. She was a riddle. All sweetness at times, but 
 at others irritable, moody, and scarce mistress of herself. 
 Hazel was sorry and perplexed, and often expressed a 
 fear she was ill. She always replied in the negative, 
 and the next moment her eyes would fill with tears. 
 The truth is, she was in considerable irritation of body, 
 and a sort of mental distress which, perhaps, only the 
 more sensitive of her own sex can fully appreciate. 
 
 Matters were still in this uncomfortable and mysterious 
 state when Hazel 'put his finishing stroke to her abode. 
 
230 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 He -was in high spirits that eyening : for he had made' 
 a discovery ; he had at last found time for a walk, and 
 followed the river to its source, a very remarkable lake 
 in a hilly basin. And making further researches, he 
 had found at the bottom of a rocky ravine a curious 
 thing, a dark resinous fluid bubbling up in quite a 
 fountain, which, however, fell down again as it rose, 
 and hardly any overflowed. It was like thin pitch. 
 
 Of course in another hour he was back there with a 
 great pot, and half filled it. Pursuing his researches 
 a little farther he found a range of rocks with snowy 
 summits apparently; but the snow was the guano of 
 centuries. He was in a great hurry to get home with 
 his pot of pitch ; for it was in truth a very remarkable 
 discovery, though not without a parallel. He could not 
 wait tiU morning, so with embers and cocoaruut he made 
 a fire just outside the bower, and melted his pitch, which 
 had become nearly solid, and proceeded to smear the 
 inside of the matting in places, to make it thoroughly 
 water-tight. 
 
 Helen treated the discovery at first with mortifying 
 indifference ; but he hoped she would appreciate Nature's 
 bounty more, when she saw the practical use of this 
 extraordinary production. He endeavored to lead her 
 to that view. She shook her head sorrowfully. He 
 persisted. She met him with silence. He thought this 
 peevish, and ungrateful to Heaven ; we have all different 
 measures of the wonderful; and to him a fountain of 
 pitch was thing to admire greatly and thank God for : 
 he said as much. 
 
 To Helen it was nasty stuff, and who cared where it 
 came from ? She conveyed as much by a shrug of the 
 shoulders, and then gave a sigh that told her mind was 
 far away. 
 
 He was a little mortified, and showed it. 
 
FOUL PLAT. 231 
 
 One word led to another, and at last what liad been 
 long fermenting came out. 
 
 "Mr. Hazel," said Miss Eolleston, "you and I are at 
 cross purposes. You mean to live here. I do not." 
 
 Hazel left off working and looked greatly perplexed ; 
 the attack was so sudden in its form, though it had been 
 a long time threatening. He found nothing to say, and 
 she was impatient now to speak her mind, so she replied 
 to his look. 
 
 "You are making yourself at home here. You are 
 contented. Contented ? You are happy in this horrible 
 prison." 
 
 "And why not ? " said Hazel. — But he looked rather 
 guilty. — "Here are no traitors; no murderers. The 
 animals are my friends, and the one human being I see 
 mak^me better to look at her." 
 
 " Mr. Hazel, I am in a state of mind that romance jars 
 on me. Be honest with me, and talk to me like a man. 
 I say that you beam all over with happiness and content, 
 and that you — now answer me one question ; why have 
 you never lighted the bonfire on Telegraph Point ? " 
 
 "Indeed, I don't know," said he, submissively. "I 
 have been so occupied." 
 
 " You have : and how ? Not in trying to deliver us 
 both from this dreadful situation, but to reconcile me to 
 it. Yes, sir, under pretence (that is a harsh word, but 
 I can't help it) of keeping out the rain. Your rain is a 
 bugbear. It never rains, it never will rain. You are 
 killing yourself almost, to make me comfortable in this 
 place. Comfortable ? " She began to writhe and pant, 
 with excitement long restrained. "And do you really 
 suppose you can make me live on like this, by building 
 me a nice hut ? Do you think I am all body and no 
 soul, that shelter and warmth and enough to eat can 
 keep my heart from breaking, and my cheeks from 
 
232 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 blushing night and day ? When I wake in the morning 
 I find myself blushing to my fingers' ends." Then she 
 writhed away from him. " Oh, my dear father, why did 
 I ever leave you ! " Then she writhed back. " Keep 
 me here ? make me live months and years on this island ? 
 Have you sisters ? Have you a mother ? Ask yourself 
 is it likely ? No ; if you will not help me, and they 
 don't love me enough to come and find me and take me 
 home, I'll go to another home without your help or any 
 man's." She rose suddenly to her feet. "I'll tie my 
 clothes tight round me, and fling myself down from that 
 point on the sharp rocks below. I'll find a way from 
 this place to Heaven, if there's no way from it to those 
 I love on earth." 
 
 Then she sank down and rocked herself and sobbed 
 hard. 
 
 The strong passion of this hitherto gentle creature 
 quite frightened her unhappy friend, who knew more 
 of books than women. He longed to soothe her and 
 comfort her ; but what could he say ? He cried out in 
 despair, " My God, can I do nothing for her ? " 
 
 She turned on him like lightning. " You can do any- 
 thing: everything. You can restore us both to our 
 friends. You can save my life, my reason. For that 
 will go first, I think. What had I done ? what had I 
 emer done since I was born, to be so brought down ? Was 
 ever an English lady — ?" And with that her white 
 teeth clicked together convulsively. " Do ! " said she, 
 darting back to the point as swiftly as she had rushed 
 away from it. " Why, put down that ; and leave off in- 
 venting fifty little trumpery things for me, and do one 
 great thing instead. Oh, do not fritter that great mind 
 of yours away in painting and patching my prison ; but 
 bring it all to bear on getting me out of my prison. Call 
 sea and land to our rescue. Let them know a poor girl 
 
FOUL PLAT. 233 
 
 is here in unheard-of, unfathomable misety : heire, in the 
 middle of this awful ocean." 
 
 Hazel sighed deeply. " No ships seem to pass Tnthin 
 sight of us," he mijttered. 
 
 " What does that matter to you ? You are not a com- 
 mon man ; you are an inventor. Eouse all the powers 
 of your mind. There must be some way. Think for 
 me. Think! Think! — or my blood will be on your 
 head." 
 
 Hazel turned pale and put his head in his hands, and 
 tried to think. 
 
 She leaned towards him with great flashing eyes of 
 purest hazel. 
 
 The problem dropped from his lips a syllable at a time. 
 "To diffuse — intelligence — a hundred leagues from a 
 fixed point — an island ? " 
 
 She leaned towards him with flashing expectant eyes. 
 
 But he groaned and said, "That seems impossible." 
 
 "Then trample on it," said she, bringing his own 
 words against him ; for she used to remember all he said 
 to her in the day, and ponder it at night. " Trample on 
 it, subdue it, or never speak to me again.' Ah, I am an 
 ungrateful wretch to speak harshly to you. It is my 
 misery, not me. Good, kind, Mr. Hazel, pray, pray, 
 pray, bring all the powers of that great mind to bear on 
 this one thing, and save a poor girl, to whom you have 
 been so kind, so considerate, so noble, so delicate, so for- 
 bearing ; now save me from despair ! " 
 
 Hysterical sobs cut her short here, and Hazel, whose 
 loving heart she had almost torn out of his body, could 
 only falter out in a broken voice, that he would obey her. 
 " m work no more for you at present," said he, " sweet 
 as it has been. I will think instead. I will go this 
 moment beneath the stars and think all night." 
 
 The young woman was now leaning her head languidly 
 
234 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 back against one of the trees, weak as water after her 
 passion. He cast a look of ineffable love and pity on her, 
 and withdrew slowly to think beneath the tranquil stars. 
 Love has set men hard tasks in his time. Whethei; 
 this was a light one, our readers shall decide. 
 
 To DIFFUSE INTELLIGENCE FROM A FIXED ISLAND OVEH 
 A HUNDBED LEAGUES OF OCEAN. 
 
fouIj play. 235 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 The perplexity into which Hazel was thrown by the 
 outburst of his companion, rendered him unable to re- 
 duce her demand at once to an intelligible form. For 
 some moments he seriously employed his mind on the 
 problem until it assumed this shape. 
 
 Firstly : I do not know where this island is, having no 
 means of ascertaining either its latitude or longitude. 
 
 Secondly : if I had such a description of its locality, 
 how might the news be conveyed beyond the limits of 
 the place ? 
 
 As the wildness of Helen's demand broke upon his 
 mind, he smiled sadly, and sat down upon the bank of 
 the little river, near his boat-house, and buried his head 
 in his hands. Presently he heard a soft rustle near him ; 
 and looked up. To his surprise, she stood beside him. - 
 
 " Mr. Hazel," she said, hurriedly — her voice was 
 husky, — " do not mind what I have said. I am unrea- 
 sonable ; and I am sure 1 ought to feel obliged to you for 
 all the — " 
 
 Hazel tried to check the utterance of her apology; 
 but, ere he could master his voice, the girl's cold and 
 constrained features seemed to melt. She turned away, 
 wrung her hands, and, with a sharp, quivering cry, she 
 broke forth, — 
 
 " Oh, sir ! oh, Mr. Hazel ! do forgive me. I am not 
 ungrateful, indeed, indeed, I am not ; but I am mad with 
 despair. Judge me with compassion. At this moment, 
 those who are very, very dear to me are awaiting my 
 arrival in London; and when they learn the loss of the 
 
236 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Proserpine, how great will be their misery ! "Well, that 
 misery is added to mine. Then my poor papa : he will 
 never know how much he loved me until this news 
 reaches him. And to think that I am dead to them, yet 
 living ! living here helplessly, helplessly. Dear, dear 
 Arthur, how you will suffer for my sake. Oh, papa, papa ! 
 shall I never see you again ? " and she wept bitterly. 
 
 " I am helpless either to aid or to console you. Miss 
 Rolleston. By the act of a Divine Providence, you were 
 cast upon this desolate shore, and by the same Will I 
 was appointed to serve and to provide for your welfare. 
 I pray God that He will give me health and strength to 
 assist you." 
 
 She looked timidly at him for a moment, then slowly 
 regained her hut. He had spoken coldly, and with dig- 
 nity. She felt humbled, the more so, that he had only 
 bowed his aeknowledgmejit to her apology. 
 
 For more than an hour she watched him, as he paced 
 up and down between the boat-house and the shore; 
 then she shrank into her bed, after gently closing the 
 door. 
 
 The following morning Helen was surprised to see the 
 boat riding at anchor in the surf, and Hazel busily 
 engaged on her trim. He was soon on shore, and by her 
 side. 
 
 " I am afraid I must leave you for a day, Miss Rolles- 
 ton,'' he said. " I wish to make a circuit of the island ; 
 indeed, I ought to have done so many da.ys ago." 
 
 " Is such an expedition necessary ? Surely you have 
 had enough of the sea." 
 
 " It is very necessary. It is the first step towards 
 announcing to all passing vessels our presence in this 
 place. I have commenced operations already. See, on 
 yonder bluff, which I have called Telegraph Point, I have 
 mounted the boat's ensign, and now it floats from the top 
 
rOXTL PLA:Y. 237 
 
 of the tree beside the bonfire. Do you see that pole I 
 have shipped on board the boat? that is intended as a 
 signal, which shall be exhibited on yonr great palm-tree. 
 The flag will then stand for a signal on the northern 
 coast, and the palm-tree, thus accoutred, will serve for a 
 similar purpose on the western extremity of the island. 
 As I pass along the southern and eastern shores, I pro- 
 pose to select spots where some mark can be erected, 
 such as may be visible to ships at sea." 
 
 " But will they remark such signals ? " 
 
 "Be assured they will, if they come within sight of 
 the place." 
 
 Hazel knew that there was little chance of such an 
 event ; but it was something not to be neglected. 
 
 Helen felt rather disappointed that no trace of the 
 emotion he displayed on the previous night remained in 
 his manner, or in the expression of his face. She bowed 
 her permission to him rather haughtily, and sat down to 
 breakfast on some baked yams, and some rough oysters, 
 which he had raked up from the bay while bathing that 
 morning. The young man had regained an elasticity of 
 bearing, an independence of tone, to which she was not 
 at all accustomed; his manners were always soft and 
 deferential ; but his expression was more firm, and she 
 felt that the reins had been gently removed from her 
 possession, and there was a will to guide her which she 
 was bound to acknowledge and obey. 
 
 She did not argue in this wise, for it is not human to 
 reason and to feel at the same moment. But she felt 
 instinctively that the man was quietly asserting his 
 superiority, and the result will appear. 
 
 Hazel went about his work briskly ; the boat was soon 
 laden with every requisite. Helen watched these prepa- 
 rations askance, vexed with the expedition which she had 
 urged him to make. Then she fell to reflecting on the 
 
238 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 change that seemed to have taken place in her charac- 
 ter ; she, who was once so womanly, so firm, so reason- 
 able — why had she become so petulant, childish, and 
 capricious ? 
 
 The sail was set, and all ready to run the cutter into 
 the surf of the rising tide, when, taking a sudden reso- 
 lution, as it were, Helen came rapidly down, and said, 
 " I will go with you, if you please," half in commana, 
 half in doubt. Hazel looked a little surprised, but very 
 pleased ; and then she added, " I hope I shall not be in 
 your way." 
 
 He assured her, on the contrary, that she might be of 
 great assistance to him ; and now, with doubled alacrity, 
 he ran out the little vessel and leaped into the prow as 
 she danced over the waves. He taught her how to bring 
 the boat's head round with the help of an oar, and when 
 all was snug, left her at the helm. The wind being 
 southerly, he had decided to pass to the west, and so 
 they opened the sea about half a mile from the shore. 
 
 For about three miles it consisted of a line of bluffs, 
 cleft at intervals by small narrow bays, the precipitous 
 sides of which were lined with dense foliage. Into these 
 fissures the sea entered with a mournful sound, that died 
 away as it crept up the yellow sands with which the§e 
 nooks were carpeted. An exclamation from Helen at- 
 tracted his attention to the horizon on the north-west, 
 where a long line of breakers glittered in the sun. A 
 reef or low sandy bay appeared to exist in that direction 
 about fifteen miles away, and something more than a 
 mile in length. As they proceeded, he marked roughly 
 on the side of his tin baler, with the point of a pin bor- 
 rowed from Helen, the form of the coast line. 
 
 An hour and a half brought them to the north-western 
 extremity of the island. As they cleared the shelter of 
 the land, the southerly breeze coming with some force 
 
FOTTL PLAY. 239 
 
 across the open sea caught the cutter, and she lay over 
 in a way to inspire Helen with alarm ; she was about to 
 let go the tiller, when Hazel seized it, accidentally 
 enclosing her hand under the grasp of his own, as he 
 pressed the tiller hard to port. 
 
 " Steady, please ; don't relinquish your hold : it is all 
 right — no fear," he cried, as he kept his eye on their 
 sail. 
 
 He held this course for a mile or more, and then judg- 
 ing that with a long tack he could weather the southerly 
 side of the island, he put the boat about. He took occa- 
 sion to explain to Helen how this operation was necessary, 
 and she learned the alphabet of navigation. The western 
 end of their little land now lay before them; it was 
 about three miles in breadth. For two miles the bluff 
 coast line continued unbroken ; then a deep bay, a mile 
 in width and two miles in depth, was made by a long 
 tongue of sand projecting westerly; on its extremity 
 grew the gigantic palm, well recognized as Helen's land- 
 mark. The sandy shore was dotted with multitudes of 
 dark objects. Ere long, these objects were seen to be in 
 motion, and, pointing them out to Helen, with a smile. 
 Hazel said : " Beware, Miss EoUeston, yonder are your 
 bugbears — and in some force too. Those dark masses, 
 moving upon the hillocks of sand, or rolling on the surf, 
 are sea-lions — the phoca leonina, or lion-seal." 
 
 Helen strained her eyes to distinguish the forms, but 
 only descried the dingy objects. While thus engaged, 
 she allowed the cutter to fall off a little, and, ere Hazel 
 had resuined his hold upon the tiller, they were fairly in 
 the bay ; the great palm-tree on their starboard bow. 
 
 "You seem determined to make the acquaintance of 
 your nightmares," he remarked ; " you perceive that we 
 are embayed." 
 
 At this moment, something dark bulged up close beside 
 
240 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 her in the sea, and the rounded back of a monster rolled 
 over and disappeared. Hazel let drop the sail, for they 
 were now fairly in the smooth water of the bay, and 
 close to the sandy spit ; the gigantic stem of the palm- 
 tree was on their quarter, about fialf a mile off. 
 
 He took to the oars, and rowed slowly towards the 
 shore. A small seal rose behind the boat and followed 
 them, playing with the blade, its gambols resembling 
 that, of a kitten. He pointed out to Helen the mild 
 expression of the creature's face, and assured her that 
 all this tribe were harmless animals, and susceptible of 
 domestication. The cub swam up to the boat quite fear- 
 lessly, and he touched its head gently ; he encouraged 
 her to do the like, but she shrank from its contact. 
 They were now close ashore, and Hazel, throwing out his 
 anchor in two feet of water, prepared to land the beam 
 of wood he had brought to decorate the palm-tree as a 
 signal. 
 
 The huge stick was soon heaved overboard, and he 
 leaped after it. He towed it to the nearest landing to 
 the tree, and dragged it high up on shore. Scarcely had 
 he disposed it conveniently, intending to return in a day 
 or two, with the means of affixing it in a prominent and 
 remarkable manner, in the form of a spar across the 
 trunk of the palm, when a cry from Helen recalled him. 
 A large number of the sea-lions were coasting quietly 
 down the surf towards the boat ; indeed, a dozen of them 
 had made their appearance around it. 
 
 Hazel shouted to her not to fear, and desiring that her 
 alarm should not spread to the swarm, he passed back 
 quietly but rapidly. When he reached the water, three 
 or four of the animals were already floundering between 
 him and the boat. He waded slowly towards one of 
 them, and stood beside it. The man and the creature 
 looked quietly at each other, and then the seal rolled 
 
FOTTL PLAT. 241 
 
 over, with a snuffling, self-satisfied air, winking its soft 
 eyes with immense complacency. 
 
 Helen, in her alarm, could not resist a smile at this 
 conclusion of so terrible a demonstration ; for, with all 
 their gentle expression, the tusks of the brute looked 
 formidable. But, when she saw Hazel pushing them 
 aside, and patting a cub on the back, she recovered her 
 courage completely. 
 
 Then he took to his oars again ; and, aided by the tide, 
 which was now on the ebb, he rowed round the south- 
 western extremity of the island. He found the water 
 here, as he anticipated, very shallow. 
 
 It was midday when they were fairly on the southern 
 coast ; and, now sailing with the wind aft, the cutter ran 
 through the water at racing speed. Fearing that some 
 reefs or rocky formations might exist in their course, he 
 reduced sail, and kept away from the shore — about a 
 mile. At this distance he was better able to see inland, 
 and mark down the accidence of its formation. 
 
 The southern coast was uniform, and Helen said it 
 resembled the cliffs of the Kentish or Sussex coast of 
 England, only the English white was here replaced by 
 the pale volcanic gray. It was plain that the water-shed 
 of the island was aU northward. After some miles of 
 this they approached the eastern end, where rose the 
 circular mountain of which mention has been already 
 made. This eminence had evidently at one time been 
 detached from the rest of the land to which it was now 
 joined by a neck of swamp about a mile and a half in 
 breadth, and two miles in length. 
 
 Hazel proposed to reconnoitre this part of the shore 
 nearly, and ran the boat close in to land. The reeds or 
 canes with which this bog was densely clothed grew in a 
 dark spongy soil. Here and there this waste was dotted 
 with ragged trees which he recognized as the cypress : 
 16 
 
242 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 from their gaunt branches hung a black, funereal kind 
 of weeper, a kind of moss, resembling iron-gray horsehair 
 both in texture and uses, though not so long in the staple. 
 
 This parasite, Hazel explained to Helen, was very 
 common in such marshy ground, and was the death flag 
 hung out by Nature to warn man that malaria and fever 
 were the invisible and inalienable inhabitants of that 
 fatal neighborhood. 
 
 Looking narrowly along the low shore for some good 
 landing, where under shelter of a tree they might repose 
 for an hour, and spread their midday repast, they dis- 
 covered an opening in the reeds, a kind of lagoon or 
 bayou, extending into the morass between the high lands 
 of the island and the circular mountain, but close under 
 the base of the latter. This inlet he proposed to explore, 
 and accordingly the sail was taken down and the cutter 
 was poled into the narrow creek. The water here was 
 so shallow that the keel slid over the quicksand into 
 which the oar sank freely. The creek soon became nar- 
 row, the water deeper, and of a blacker color, and the 
 banks more densely covered with canes. These grew to 
 the height of ten and twelve feet, and as close as wheat 
 in a thick crop. The air felt dank and heavy, and 
 hummed with myriads of insects. The black water 
 became so deep and the bottom so sticky that Hazel 
 took to the oars again. The creek narrowed as they 
 proceeded, until it proved scarcely wide enough to admit 
 of his working the boat. The height of the reeds hin- 
 dered the view on either side. Suddenly, however, and 
 after proceeding very slowly through the bends of the 
 canal, these decreased in height and density, and the 
 voyagers emerged into an open space of about five acres 
 in extent, a kind of oasis in this reedy desert, created 
 by a mossy mound which arose amidst the morass, and 
 afforded firm footing, of which a grove of trees and innu- 
 
rOUL PLAT. 243 
 
 merable shrubs availed themselves. Helen uttered an 
 exclamation of delight as this island of foliage in a sea 
 of reeds met her eyes, that had been famished with the 
 arid monotony of the brake. 
 
 They soon landed. 
 
 Helen insisted on the preparations for their meal being 
 left to her, and having selected a sheltered spot, she was 
 soon busy with their frugal food. Hazel surveyed the 
 spot, and selecting a red cedar, was soon seated forty 
 feet above her head ; making a topographical survey of 
 the neighborhood. He found that the bayou by which 
 they had entered continued its course to the northern 
 shore, thus cutting off the mountain or easterly end, and 
 forming of it a separate island. A quarter of a mile far- 
 ther on the bayou or canal parted, forming two streams, 
 of which that to the left seemed the main channel. 
 This he determined to follow. Turning to the west, 
 that is, towards their home, he saw at a distance of two 
 miles a crest of hills broken into clifEs, which defined 
 the limit of the main land. The sea had at one time 
 occupied the site where the morass now stood. These 
 clifEs formed a range, extending from north to south; 
 their precipitous sides clothed here and there with trees, 
 marked where the descent was broken by platforms. 
 Between him and this range the morass extended. 
 Hazel took note of three places where the descent from 
 these hills into the marsh could, he believed, most readily 
 be made. 
 
 On the eastern side, and close above him, arose the 
 peculiar mountain. Its form was that of a truncated 
 cone, and its sides densely covered with trees of some size. 
 
 The voice of Helen called him from his perch, and he 
 descended quickly, leaping into a mass of brushwood 
 growing at the foot of his tree. Helen stood a few 
 yards from him, in admiration, before a large shrub. 
 
244 B'OTJIj plat. 
 
 " Look, Mr. Hazel, what a singular production," said 
 the girl, as she stooped to examine the plant. It bore 
 a number of red flowers, each growing out of a fruit like 
 a prickly pear. These flowers were in various stages : 
 some were just opening like tulips; others, more ad- 
 vanced, had expanded like umbrellas, and quite over- 
 lapped the fruit, keeping it from sun and dew ; others 
 had served their turn in that way, and been withered by 
 the sun's rays. But, wherever this was the case, the 
 fruit had also burst open and displayed or discharged 
 its contents, and those contents looked like seeds ; but 
 on narrower inspection proved to be little insects with 
 pink transparent wings, and bodies of incredibly vivid 
 crimson. 
 
 Hazel examined the fruit and flowers very carefully, 
 and stood rapt, transfixed. 
 
 "It must be! — and it is!" said he, at last. "Well, 
 I'm glad I've not died without seeing it." 
 
 " What is it ? " said she. 
 
 " One of the most valuable productions of the earth. 
 It is cochineal. This is the Tunal tree." 
 
 "Oh, indeed!" said Helen, indifferently; "cochineal 
 is used for a dye; but as it is not probable we shall 
 require to dye anything, the discovery seems to me more 
 curious than useful." 
 
 " You wanted some ink. This pigment, mixed with 
 lime-juice, will form a beautiful red ink." 
 
 He asked her to hold her handkerchief under a bough 
 of the Tunal tree, where the fruit was ripe. He then 
 shook the bough. Some insects fell at once into the 
 cloth. A great number rose and buzzed a little in the 
 sun not a yard from where they were born ; but the sun 
 dried their blood so promptly that they soon fell dead in 
 the handkerchief. Those that the sun so killed went 
 through three phases of color before their eyes. They 
 
FOtJIi PLAT. 245 
 
 fell down black or nearly. They whitened on the cloth : 
 and after that came gradually to their final color, a 
 flaming crimson. The insects thus treated, appeared 
 the most vivid of all. 
 
 They soon secured about half a teacup full; rolled 
 them up, and put them away : then they sat down and 
 made a very hearty meal, for it was now past two o'clock. 
 They re-entered the boat, and passing once more into 
 the morass they found the channel of the bayou as it 
 approached the northern shore less difi&cult of navigar 
 tioiL The bottom became sandy and hard, and the 
 presence of trees in the swamp proved that spots of 
 terra firma were more frequent. But the water shal- 
 lowed, and, as they opened the shore, he saw with great 
 vexation that the tide in receding had left the bar at the 
 mouth of the canal visible in some parts. He pushed 
 on, however, until the boat grounded. This was a sad 
 affair. There lay the sea not fifty yards ahead. Hazel 
 leaped out, and examined and forded the channel, which 
 at this place was about two hundred feet wide. He 
 found a narrow passage near the eastern side, and to this 
 he towed the boat. Then he begged Miss Eolleston to 
 land, and relieved the boat of the mast, sail, and oars. 
 Thus lightened, he dragged her into the passage; but 
 the time occupied in these preparations had been also 
 occupied by Nature — the tide had receded, and the 
 cutter stuck immovably in the water-way, about six 
 fathoms short of deeper water. 
 
 "What is to be done now?" inquired Helen, when 
 Hazel returned to her side, panting, but cheerful. 
 
 "We must await the rising of the tide. I fear we 
 are imprisoned here for three hours at least." 
 
 There was no help for it. Helen made light of the 
 misfortune. The spot where they had landed was en- 
 closed between the two issues of the lagoon. They 
 
246 POTXL PLAY. 
 
 walked along the shore to the more easterly and the 
 narrower canal, and on arriving, Hazel found to his great 
 annoyance that there was ample water to have floated 
 the cutter had he selected that, the least promising road. 
 He suggested a return by the road they came, and, passing 
 into the other canal, by that to reach the sea. They 
 hurried back, but found by this time the tide had left 
 the cutter high and dry on the sand. So they had no 
 choice but to wait. 
 
 Having three hours to spare. Hazel asked Miss KoUes- 
 ton's permission to ascend the mountain. The ascent 
 was too rugged and steep for her powers, and the sear- 
 shore and adjacent groves would find her ample amuse- 
 ment during his absence. She accompanied him to the 
 bank of the smaller lagoon, which he forded, and waving 
 an adieu to her, he plunged into the dense wood with 
 which the sides of the mountain were clothed. 
 
 She waited some time, and then she heard his voice 
 shouting to her from the heights above. The mountain- 
 top was about three-quarters of a mile from where she 
 stood, but seemed much nearer. She turned back towards 
 the boat, walking slowly, but paused as a faint and dis- 
 tant cry again reached her ear. It was not repeated, 
 and then she entered the grove. 
 
 The ground beneath her feet was soft with velvety 
 moss, and the dark foliage of the trees rendered the air 
 cool and deliciously fragrant. After wandering for some 
 time, she regained the edge of the grove near the boat, 
 and selecting a spot at the foot of an aged cypress, she 
 sat down with her back against its trunk. Then she 
 took out Arthur's letter, and began to read those impas- 
 sioned sentences : as she read she sighed deeply. But 
 she detected herself pitying Arthur's condition more 
 than she regretted her own. She fell into reverie, 
 and from reverie into drowsy languor. How long she 
 
FOUL PLAY. 247 
 
 remained in this state she could not remember, but a 
 slight rustle overhead recalled her senses. Believing it 
 to be a bird moving in the branches, she was resigning 
 herself again to rest when she became sensible of a 
 strange emotion, a conviction that something was watch- 
 ing her with a fixed gaze. She cast her eyes around, 
 but saw nothing. She looked upwards. From the tree 
 immediately above her lap depended a snake, its tail 
 coiled around a dead branch. The reptile hung straight, 
 its eyes fixed like two rubies upon Helen's, as very 
 slowly it let itself down by its uncoiling tail. Now its 
 head was on a level with hers ; in another moment it 
 must drop into her lap. 
 She was paralyzed. 
 
248 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 After toiling up a rugged and steep ascent, encum- 
 bered with blocks of gray stone, of -which the island 
 seemed to be formed, forcing his way over fallen trees 
 and through the tangled undergrowth of a species of 
 wild vine, which abounded on the mountain-side. Hazel 
 stopped to breathe and peer around, as well as the dense 
 foliage permitted. He was up to his waist in scrub, and 
 the stiff leaves of the bayonet plant rendered caution 
 necessary in walking. At moments, through the dense 
 foliage, he caught a glisten of the sea. The sun was in 
 the north behind him, and by this alone he guided his 
 road due southerly and upward. Once only he found a 
 small cleared space about an acre in extent, and here it 
 was he uttered the cry Helen heard. He waited a few 
 moments in the hope to hear her voice in reply, but it 
 did not reach him. Again he mounted upward, and now 
 the ascent became at times so arduous that more than 
 once he almost resolved to relinquish, or at least to 
 defer, his task ; but a moment's rest recalled him to him- 
 self, and he was one not easily bafled by difficulty or 
 labor, so he toiled on until he judged the summit ought 
 to have been reached. After pausing to take breath and 
 counsel, he fancied that he had borne too much to the 
 left, the ground to his right appeared to rise more than 
 the path that ^he was pursuing, which had become level, 
 and he concluded, that, instead of ascending, he was 
 circling the mountain-top. He turned aside, therefore, 
 and after ten minutes' hard climbing he was pushing 
 through a thick and high scrub, when the earth 
 
FOUL PLAY. 249 
 
 seemed to give way beneath him, and he fell — into 
 an abyss. 
 
 He was ingulfed. He fell from bush to bush — down, 
 down — scratch — rip — plump! until he lodged in a 
 prickly bush, more winded than hurt. Out of this he 
 crawled, only to discover himself thus landed in a great 
 and perfectly circular plain of about thirty acres in extent, 
 or about three hundred and fifty yards in diameter. In 
 the centre was a lake, also circular : the broad belt of shore 
 around this lake was covered with rich grass, level as a 
 bowling-green, and all this again was surrounded by a 
 nearly perpendicular cliff, down which indeed he had 
 fallen: this cliff was thickly clothed with shrubs and 
 trees. 
 
 Hazel recognized the crater of an extinct volcano. 
 
 On examining the lake, he found the waters impreg- 
 nated with volcanic products. Its bottom was formed 
 of asphaltum. Having made a circuit of the shores, he 
 perceived on the westerly side — that next the island — 
 a break in the cUff; and on a narrow examination he 
 discovered an outlet. It appeared to him that the lake 
 at one time had emptied its waters through this ancient 
 watercourse. The descent here was not only gradual, 
 but the old river-bed was tolerably free from obstruc- 
 tions, especially of the vegetable kind. 
 
 He made his way rapidly downwards, and in half an 
 hour reached marshy ground. The cane-brake now lay 
 before him. On his left he saw the sea on the south, 
 about a third of a mile. He knew that to the right 
 must be the sea on the north, about half a mile or so. 
 He bent his way thither. The edge of the swamp was 
 very clear, and, though somewhat spongy, afforded good 
 walking unimpeded. As he approached the spot where 
 he judged the boat to be, the underwood thickened, the 
 trees again interlaced their arms, and he had to struggle 
 
250 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 through the foliage. At length he struck the smaller' 
 lagoon, and followed its course to the shore, where he 
 had previously crossed. In a few moments he reached 
 the boat, and was pleased to find her afloat. The rising 
 tide had even moved her a few feet back into the canal. 
 Hazel shouted to apprise Miss EoUeston of his return, 
 and then proceeded to restore the mast to its place, and 
 replace the rigging and the oars. This occupied some 
 little time. He felt surprised that she had not appeared. 
 He shouted again. No reply. 
 
FOtTL PLAY. 251 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVII. 
 
 Hazel advanced hurriedly into the grove, which he 
 hunted thoroughly, but without effect. He satisfied 
 himself that she could not have quitted the spot, since 
 the marsh enclosed it on one side, the canals on the 
 second and third, the sea on the fourth. He returned to 
 the boat more surprised than anxious. He waited 
 awhile, and again shouted her name — stopped — listened 
 — no answer. 
 
 Yet surely Helen could not have been more than a 
 hundred yards from where he stood. His heart beat 
 with a strange sense of apprehension. He heard noth- 
 ing but the rustling of the foliage and the sop of the 
 waves on the shore, as the tide crept up the shingle. 
 As his eyes roved in every direction, he caught sight of 
 something white near the foot of a withered cypress 
 tree, not fifty yards from where he stood. He approached 
 the bushes in which the tree was partially concealed on 
 that side, and quickly recognized a portion of Helen's 
 dress. He ran towards her — burst through the under- 
 wood, and gained the enclosure. She was sitting there, 
 asleep, as he conjectured, her back leaning against the 
 trunk. He contemplated her thus for one moment, and 
 then he advanced, about to awaken her ; but was struck 
 speechless. Her face was ashy pale, her eyes open and 
 widely distended; her bosom heaved slowly. Hazel 
 approached rapidly, and called to her. 
 
 Her eyes never moved, not a limb stirred. She sat 
 glaring forward. On her lap was coiled a snake — gray 
 — mottled with muddy green. 
 
252 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 Hazel looked round and selected a branch of the dead 
 tree, about three feet in length. Armed with this, he 
 advanced slowly to the reptile. It was very quiet, 
 thants to the warmth of her lap. He pointed the stick 
 at it; the vermin lifted its head, and its tail began to 
 quiver; then it darted at the stick, throwing itself its 
 entire length. Hazel retreated, the snake coiled again, 
 and again darted. By repeating this process four or five 
 times, he enticed the creature away ; and then availing 
 himself of a moment before it could recoil, he struck it 
 a smart blow on the neck. 
 
 When Hazel turned to Miss EoUeston, he found her 
 still fixed in the attitude into which terror had transfixed 
 her. The poor girl had remained motionless for an 
 hour, under the terrible fascination of the reptile, coma^ 
 tized. He spoke to her, but a quick spasmodic action of 
 her throat, and a quivering of her hands, alone responded. 
 The sight of her suffering agonized him beyond expres- 
 sion, but he took her hands, — he pressed them, for they 
 were icy cold, — he called piteously on her name. But 
 she seemed incapable of effort. Then, stooping, he 
 raised her tenderly in his arms, and carried her to 
 the boat, where he laid her, still unresisting and in- 
 capable. 
 
 With trembling limbs and weak hands he launched 
 the cutter, and they were once more afloat and bound 
 homeward. 
 
 He dipped the baler into the fresh water he had 
 brought with him for their daily supply, and dashed it 
 on her forehead. This he repeated, until he perceived 
 that her breathing became less painful and more rapid. 
 Then he raised her a little, and her head rested upon his 
 arm. When they reached the entrance of the bay he 
 was obliged to pass it, for the wind being still southerly, 
 he could not enter by the north gate, but came round 
 
FOTTL PLAY. 253 
 
 and ran in by the western passage, the same by which 
 they had left the same morning. 
 
 Hazel bent over Helen, and whispered tenderly that 
 they were at home. She answered by a sob. In half 
 an hour the keel grated on the sand, near the boat-house. 
 Then he asked her if she were strong enough to reach 
 her hut. She raised her head, but she felt dizzy; he 
 helped her to land ; all power had forsaken her limbs ; 
 her head sank on his shoulder, and his arm, wound round 
 her lithe figure, alone prevented her falling helplessly 
 at his feet ; again he raised her in his arms, and bore her 
 to the hut. Here he laid her down on her bed, and 
 stood for a moment beside her, unable to restrain his 
 tears. 
 
264 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVni. 
 
 It was a wretelied and anxious night for Hazel. He 
 watched the hut, without the courage to approach it. 
 That one moment of weakness which occurred to him on 
 board the Proserpine, when he had allowed Helen to per- 
 ceive the nature of his feelings towards her, had ren- 
 dered all his actions open to suspicion. He dared not 
 exhibit towards her any sympathy — he might not 
 extend to her the most ordinary civility. If she fell ill, 
 if fever supervened ! how could he nurse her, attend upon 
 her ? His touch must have a significance, he knew that ; 
 for, as he bore her insensible form, he embraced rather 
 than carried the precious burthen. Could he look upon 
 her in her suffering without betraying his forbidden 
 love? And then would not his attentions aflict more 
 than console ? 
 
 Chewing the cud of such bitter thoughts, he passed 
 the night, without noticing the change which was taking 
 place over the island. The sun rose ; and this awakened 
 him from his reverie, which had replaced sleep ; he looked 
 around, and then became sensible of the warnings in 
 the air. 
 
 The sea-birds flew about vaguely and absurdly, and 
 seemed sporting in currents of wind ; yet there was but 
 little wind down below. Presently, clouds came flying 
 over the sky, and blacker masses gathered on the horizon. 
 The sea changed color. 
 
 Hazel knew the weather was breaking. The wet 
 season was at hand — the moment when fever, if such 
 an invisible inhabitant there was on that island, would 
 
FOTHi PLAY. 266 
 
 visit them. In a few hours the rain would be upon them, 
 and he reproached himself with want of care in the 
 construction of the hut. For some hours he hovered 
 around it, before he ventured to approach the door, and 
 call to Helen. He thought he heard her voice "faintly, 
 and he entered. She lay there as he had placed her. 
 
 Hazel took her unresisting hand, which he would have 
 given a world to press. He felt her pulse; it was 
 weak, but slow. Her hand dropped helplessly when he 
 released it. 
 
 Leaving the hut quietly, but hastily, he descended the 
 hill to the rivulet, which he crossed. About half a mile 
 above the boat-house the stream forked, one of its 
 branches coming from the west, the other from the east. 
 Between this latter branch and Terrapin Wood was a 
 stony hill ; to this spot Hazel went, and fell to gathering 
 a handful of poppies. When he had obtained a sufficient 
 quantity he returned to the boat-house, made a small fire 
 of chips, and filling his tin baler with water, he set 
 down the poppies to boil. When the liquor was cool, he 
 measured out a portion and drank it. In about twenty 
 minutes his temples began to throb, a sensation which 
 was rapidly followed by nausea. 
 
 It was midday before he recovered from the effects of 
 his experiment sufficiently to take food. Then he waited 
 for two hours, and felt much restored. He stole to the 
 hut and looked in. Helen lay there as he had left her. 
 He stooped over her : her eyes were half -closed, and she 
 turned them slowly upon him ; her lips moved a little — 
 that was all. He felt her pulse again; it was still 
 weaker, and slower. He rose and went away, and re- 
 gaining the boat-house, he measured out a portion of the 
 poppy liquor, one-third of the dose he had previously 
 taken, and drank -it. No headache or nausea succeeded : 
 he felt his pulse ; it became quick and violent, while a 
 
256 POTJL PLAT. 
 
 sense of nmnbness overcame him, and he slept. It was but 
 for a few minutes. He awoke with throbbing brow, and 
 some sickness ; but with a sense of delight at the heart, 
 for he had found an opiate, and prescribed its quantity. 
 
 He drained the liquor away from the poppy leaves, 
 and carried it to the hut. Measuring with great care a 
 small quantity, he lifted the girl's head and placed it to 
 her lips. She drank it mechanically. Then he watched 
 beside her, until her breathing and her pulse changed in 
 character. She slept. He turned aside then, and buried 
 his face in his hands and prayed fervently for her life — 
 prayed as we pray for the daily bread of-.the heart. He 
 prayed and waited. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 257 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 The next morning, when Helen awoke, she was still 
 weak ; her head ached, but she was herself. Hazel had 
 made a broth for her from the fleshy part of a turtle ; 
 this greatly revived her, and, by midday, she was able 
 to sit up. Having seen that her wants were within her 
 reach, he left her ; but she heard him busily engaged on 
 the roof of her hut. 
 
 On his return, he explained to her his fears that the 
 structure was scarcely as weather-proof as he desired; and 
 he anticipated hourly the commencement of the rainy 
 season. Helen smiled and pointed to the sky, which 
 here was clear and bright. But Hazel shook his head 
 doubtingly. The wet season would commence probably 
 with an atmospheric convulsion, and then settle down to 
 uninterrupted rain. Helen refused obstinately to believe 
 in more rain than they had experienced on board the 
 boat — a genial shower. 
 
 " You will see," replied Hazel. " If you do not change 
 -your views within the next three days, then call me a 
 false prophet." 
 
 The following day passed, and Helen recovered more 
 strength, but still was too weak to walk; but she 
 employed herself, at Hazel's request, in making a rope 
 of cocoanut fibre, some forty yards long. This he 
 required to fish up the spar to a sufficient height on 
 the great palm-tree, and bind it firmly in its place. While 
 she worked nimbly, he employed himself in gathering a 
 store of such things as they would require during the 
 coming wintry season. She watched him with a smile, 
 17 
 
258 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 but he persevered. So that day passed. The next morn- 
 ing the rope was finished. Helen was not so well, and 
 was about to help herself to the poppy liquor, when Hazel 
 happily stopped her hand in time; he showed her the 
 exact dose necessary, and explained minutely the effects 
 of a larger draught. Then he shouldered the rope, and 
 set out for Palm-tree Point. 
 
 He was absent about six hours, of which Helen slept 
 four. And for two, which seemed very long, she rumi- 
 nated. What was she thinking of that made her smile 
 and weep at the same moment? and she looked so 
 impatiently towards the door. 
 
 He entered at last very fatigued. It was eleven miles 
 to the Point and back. While eating his frugal supper, 
 he gave her a detail of his day's adventures. Strange to 
 say, he had not seen a single seal on the sands. He 
 described how he had tied one end of her rope to the 
 middle of the spar, and with the other between his 
 teeth, he climbed the great palm. For more than an 
 hour he toiled ; he gained its top, passed the rope over one 
 of its branches, and hauled up the spar to about eighty 
 feet above the ground ; then descending with the other 
 end, he wound the rope spirally round and round the 
 tree, thus binding to its trunk the first twenty feet by 
 which the spar hung from the branch. 
 
 She listened very carelessly, he thought, and betrayed 
 little interest in this enterprise which had cost him so 
 much labor and fatigue. 
 
 When he had concluded, she was silent awhile, and 
 then, looking up quickly, said, to his great surprise, — 
 
 "I think I may increase the dose of your medicine 
 there. You are mistaken in its power. I am sure I can 
 take four times what you gave me." 
 
 "Indeed you are mistaken," he answered, quickly. 
 "I gave you the extreme measure you can take with 
 safety." 
 
FOUL PLAY, 269 
 
 "How do you know that? you can only guess at its 
 effects. At any rate, I shall try it." 
 
 Hazel hesitated, and then confessed that he had made 
 a little experiment on himself before risking its effects 
 upon her. 
 
 Helen looked up at him as he said this so simply and 
 quietly. Her great eyes filled with an angelic light. 
 Was it admiration ? Was it thankfulness ? Her bosom 
 heaved, and her lips quivered. It was but a moment, 
 and she felt glad that Hazel had turned away from her 
 and saw nothing. 
 
 A long silence followed this little episode, when she 
 was aroused from her reverie. 
 
 Patter — pat — pat — patter. 
 
 She looked up. 
 
 Pat — patter — patter. 
 
 Their eyes met. It was the rain. Hazel only smiled 
 a little, and ran down to his boat-house, to see that all 
 was right there, and then returned with a large bundle 
 of chips, with which he made a fire, for the sky had 
 darkened overhead. Gusts of wind ran along the water ; 
 it had become suddenly chilly. They had almost for- 
 gotten the feel of wet weather. 
 
 Ere the fire had kindled, the rain came down in 
 torrents, and the matted roof being resonant, they heard 
 it strike here and there above their heads. 
 
 Helen sat down on her little stool and reflected. 
 
 In that hut were two persons. One had foretold this, 
 and feared it, and provided against it. The other had 
 said petulantly it was a bugbear. 
 
 And now the rain was pattering, and the Prophet was 
 on his knees making her as comfortable as he could in 
 spite of all, and was not the man to remind her he had 
 foretold it. 
 
 She pondered his character while she watched his 
 
260 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 movements. He put down his embers, then he took a 
 coeoarpod out from the wall, cut it in slices with his 
 knife, and made a fine clear fire ; then he ran out again, 
 in spite of Helen's remonstrance, and brought a dozen 
 large scales of the palm-tree. It was all the more cheer- 
 ing for the dismal scene without and the pattering of the 
 rain on the resounding roof. 
 
 But, thanks to Hazel's precaution, the hut proved 
 weather tight; of which fact having satisfied himself, 
 he bade her good-night. He was at the door when her 
 voice recalled him. 
 
 " Mr. Hazel, I cannot rest this night without asking 
 your pardon for all the unkind things I may have done 
 and said ; without thanking you humbly for your great 
 forbearance 'and your — respect for the unhap — I mean 
 the unfortunate girl thus cast upon your mercy." 
 
 She held out her hand ; he took it between his own, 
 and faintly expressed his gratitude for her kindness; 
 and so she sent him away brimful of happiness. 
 
 The rain was descending in torrents. She heard it, 
 but he did not feel it; for she .had spread her angel's 
 wings over his existence, and he regained his sheltered 
 boat-house he knew not how. 
 
^-OUIi PLAY. 261 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 The next day was Sunday. Hazel had kept a calendar 
 of the week, and every seventh day was laid aside with 
 jealousy, to be devoted to such simple religious exercises 
 as he cpuld invent. The rain still continued, with less 
 violence indeed, but without an hour's intermission. 
 After breakfast he read to her the exodus of the Israel- 
 ites, and their sufferings during that desert life. He 
 compared those hardships with their own troubles, and 
 pointed out to her how their condition presented many 
 things to be thankful for. The island was fruitful, the 
 climate healthy. They might have been cast away on a 
 sandy key or reef, where they would have perished slowly 
 and miserably of hunger and exposure. Then they were 
 spared to each other. Had she been alone there, she 
 could not have provided for herself ; had he been cast 
 away a solitary man, the island would have been to him 
 an intolerable prison. 
 
 In all these reflections Hazel was very guarded that 
 no expression should escape him to arouse her appre- 
 hension. He was so careful of this, that she observed 
 his caution, and watched his restraint. And Helen was 
 thinking more of this than of the holy subject on which 
 he was discoursing. The disguise he threw over his heart 
 was penetrable to the girl's eye. She saw his love in 
 every careful word, and employed herself in detecting it 
 under his rigid manner. Secure in her own position, she 
 could examine him from the loopholes of her soul, and 
 take a pleasure in witnessing the suppressed happiness 
 she could bestow with a word. She did not wonder at 
 
262 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 her power. The best of women have the natural vanity 
 to take for granted the sway they assume over the exist- 
 ence which submits to them. 
 
 A week passed thus, and Hazel blessed the rain that 
 drove them to this sociability. He had prepared the 
 bladder of a young seal which had drifted ashore dead. 
 This membrane dried in the sun formed a piece of excel- 
 lent parchment, and he desired to draw upon it a map 
 of the island. To accomplish this, the first thing was 
 to obtain a good red ink from the cochineal, which is 
 crimson. He did according to his means. He got one 
 of the tin vessels, and filed it till he had obtained a con- 
 siderable quantity of the metal. This he subjected for 
 forty hours to the action of lime-juice. He then added 
 the cochineal, and mixed till he obtained a fine scarlet. 
 In using it he added a small quantity of a hard and pure 
 gum, — he had found gum abounded in the island. His 
 pen was made from an osprey's feather, hundreds of 
 which were strewn about the cliffs, and some of these he 
 had already secured and dried. 
 
 Placing his tin baler before him, on which he had 
 scratched his notes, he drew a map of the island. 
 
 " What shall we call it ? " said he. 
 
 Helen paused, and then replied, "Call it 'Gobsend' 
 Island." 
 
 " So I will," he said, and wrote it down. 
 
 Then they named the places they had seen. The reef 
 Helen had discovered off the north-west coast they called 
 " White Water Island," because of the breakers. Then 
 came "Seal Bay," "Pabn-tree Point," "Mount Lookout" 
 (this was the hill due south of where they lived). They 
 called the cane brake " Wild Duck Swamp," and the spot 
 where they lunched " Cochineal Clearing." The mountain 
 was named " Mount Cavity." 
 
 "But what shall we call the capital of the tingdom, 
 
'CALL IT 'GODSEND ISLAND'." 
 
POUIi PLAT. 263 
 
 this hut ? " said Miss EoUeston, as she leaned over him 
 and pointed to the spot. 
 
 " St. Helen's," said Hazel, looking up ; and he wrote 
 it down ere she could object. 
 
 Then there was a little awkward pause, while he was 
 busily occupied in filling up some topographical details. 
 She turned it off gayly. 
 
 "What are those caterpillars, that you have drawn 
 there, sprawling over my kingdom ? " she asked. 
 
 " Caterpillars ! you are complimentary, Miss EoUeston. 
 Those are mountains." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ; and those lines you are now drawing are 
 rivers, I presume." 
 
 " Yes ; let us call this branch of our solitary estuary, 
 which runs westward, the River Lea, andjthis, to the east, 
 the River Medway. Is such your majesty's pleasure ? " 
 
264 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXI. 
 
 Helen's strength was coming back to her but slowly ; 
 she complained of great lassitude and want of appetite. 
 But the following day having cleared up, the sun shone 
 out with great power and brilliancy. She gladly wel- 
 comed the return of the fine weather, but Hazel shook 
 his head ; ten days' rain was not their portion, the bad 
 weather would return, and complete the month or six 
 weeks' winter to which nature was entitled. The next 
 evening the appearance of- the sky confirmed his opinion. 
 The sun set like a crimson shield ; gory, and double its 
 usual size. It entered into a thick bank of dark violet 
 cloud that lay on the horizon, and seemed to split the 
 vapor into rays, but of a dusky kind ; immediately above 
 this crimson, the clouds were of a brilliant gold, but 
 higher they were the color of rubies, and went gradually 
 off to gray; 
 
 But, as the orb dipped to the horizon, a solid pile of 
 unearthly clouds came up from the south-east; their 
 bodies were singularly and unnaturally black, and mottled 
 with copper color, and hemmed with a fiery yellow ; and 
 these infernal clouds towered up their heads, pressing 
 forward as if they all strove for precedency ; it was like 
 Milton's fiends attacking the sky. The rate at which 
 they climbed was wonderful. The sun set and the moon 
 rose full, and showed those angry masses surging upwards 
 and jostling each other as they fiew. 
 
 Yet below it was dead cahn. 
 
 Having admired the sublimity of the scene, and seen 
 the full moon rise, but speedily lose her light in a brassy 
 
FOUL PLAT. 265 
 
 halo, they entered the hut, which was now the head- 
 quarters, and they supped together there. 
 
 While they were eating their little meal, the tops of 
 the trees were heard to sigh, so stiU was everything else. 
 None the less did those strange clouds fly northward, 
 eighty miles an hour. After supper Helen sat busy over 
 the fire, where some gum, collected by Hazel, resembling 
 India rubber, was boiling ; she was preparing to cover a 
 pair of poor Welch's shoes, inside and out, with a coat of 
 this material, which Hazel believed to be water-proof. 
 She sat in such a position that he could watch her. It 
 was a happy evening. She seemed content. She had 
 got over her fear of him ; they were good comrades if 
 they were nothing more. It was happiness to him to 
 be by her side even on those terms. He thought of it 
 all as he looked at her. How distant she had seemed 
 once to him, what an unapproachable goddess ! Yet 
 there she was by his side, in a hut he had made for her. 
 
 He could not help sipping the soft intoxicating draught 
 her mere presence offered him. But by and by he felt 
 his heart was dissolving within him, and he was trifling 
 with danger. He must not look on her too long, seated 
 by the fire like a wife. The much-enduring man rose, 
 and turned his back upon the sight he loved so dearly : 
 he went out at the open door intending to close it, and 
 bid her good-night. But he did not do so, just then ; for 
 his attention as an observer of nature was arrested by 
 the unusual conduct of certain animals. Grannets and 
 other searbirds were running about the opposite wood 
 and craning their necks in a strange way. He had never 
 seen one enter that wood before. 
 
 Seals and sea-lions were surrounding the slope, and 
 crawling about, and now and then plunging into the 
 river, which they crossed with infinite difBleulty, for 
 it was running very high and strong. The trees also 
 
266 FOtTL PLAY. 
 
 sighed louder than ever. Hazel turned back to tell Miss 
 RoUeston something extraordinary was going on. She 
 sat in sight from the river, and, as he came towards the 
 hut, he saw her sitting by the fire reading. 
 
 He stopped short. Her work lay at her feet. She had 
 taken out a letter, and she was reading it .by the fire. 
 
 As she read it her face was a puzzle. But Hazel saw 
 the act alone, and a dart of ice seemed to go through and 
 through him. 
 
 This, then, was her true source of consolation. He 
 thought it was so before. He had even reason to think 
 so. But, never seeing any palpable proofs, he had almost 
 been happy. He turned sick with jealous misery, and 
 stood there rooted and frozen. 
 
 Then came a fierce impulse to shut the sight out that 
 caused this pain. 
 
 He almost flung her portcullis to, and made his hands 
 bleed. But a bleeding heart does not feel scratches. 
 
 " Good-night," said he hoarsely. 
 
 " Good-night," said she kindly. 
 
 And why should she not read his letter ? She was his 
 affianced bride, bound to him by honor as well as inclinar 
 tion. This was the reflection to which, after a sore battle 
 with his loving heart, the much-enduring man had to 
 come at last; and he had come to it, and was getting 
 back his peace of mind, though not his late complacency, 
 and about to seek repose in sleep, when suddenly a clap 
 of wind came down like thunder, and thrashed the island 
 and everything in it. 
 
 All things animate and inanimate seemed to cry out 
 as the blow passed. 
 
 Another soon followed, and another, — intermittent 
 gusts at present, but of such severity that not one came 
 without making its mark. 
 
 Birds were driven away like paper; the sea-lions 
 
FOTTL PLAT. 267 
 
 whimpered, and crouched into corners, and huddled 
 together, and held each other, whiniag. 
 
 Hazel saw but one thing ; the frail edifice he had built 
 for the creature he adored. He looked out of his boat, 
 and fixed his horror-stricken eyes on it : he saw it waving 
 to and fro, yet still firm. But he could not stay there. 
 If not in danger she must be terrified. He must go and 
 support her. He left his shelter, and ran towards her 
 hut. With a whoop and a scream another blast tore 
 through the wood, and caught him. He fell, dug his 
 hands into the soil, and clutched the earth. While he 
 was in that position, he heard a sharp crack ; he looked 
 up in dismay, and saw that one of Helen's trees had 
 broken like a carrot, and the head was on the ground 
 leaping about ; while a succession of horrible sounds of 
 crashing, and rending, and tearing, showed the frail hut 
 was giving way on every side ; racked and riven, and 
 torn to pieces. Hazel, though a stout man, uttered cries 
 of terror death would never have drawn from him ; and, 
 with a desperate, headlong rush, he got to the place 
 where the bower had been ; but now it was a prostrate 
 skeleton, with the mat roof fiapping like a loose sail 
 above it, and Helen below. 
 
 As he reached the hut, the wind got hold of the last of 
 the four shrubs, that did duty for a door, and tore it from 
 the cord that held it, and whirled it into the air; it 
 went past Hazel's face like a bird flying. 
 
 Though staggered himself by the same blow of wind, 
 he clutched the tree and got into the hut. 
 
 He found her directly. She was kneeling beneath the 
 mat that a few minutes ago had been her roof. He 
 extricated her in a moment, uttering inarticxilate cries of 
 pity and fear. 
 
 " Don't be frightened," said she. " I am not hurt." 
 
 But he felt her quiver from head to foot. He wrapped 
 
268 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 her in all her rugs, and, thinking of nothing but her 
 safety, lifted her in his strong arms to take her to his 
 own place, which was safe from wind at least. 
 
 But this was no light work. To go there erect was 
 impossible. 
 
 Holding tight by the tree, he got her to the lee of the 
 tent, and waited for a lull. He went rapidly down the 
 hill, but ere he reached the river, a gust came careering 
 furiously. A sturdy young tree was near him. He 
 placed her against it, and wound his arms round her 
 and its trunk. The blast came : the tree bent down 
 almost to the ground, then whirled round, recovered, 
 shivered ; but he held firmly. It passed. Again he 
 lifted her, and bore her to the boat-house. When he 
 turned a moment to enter it, the wind almost choked her, 
 and her long hair lashed his face like a whip. But he 
 got her in, and they sat panting and crouching, but safe. 
 They were none too soon; the tempest increased in 
 violence, and became more continuous. 
 
 No clouds, but a ghastly glare all over the sky. No 
 rebellious waves, but a sea hissing and foaming under 
 its master's lash. The river ran roaring and foaming 
 by, and made the boat heave even in its little creek. 
 The wind, though it could no longer shake them, went 
 screaming terribly close over their heads, — no longer 
 like air in motion, but, solid and keen, it seemed the 
 Almighty's scythe mowing down Nature : and soon it 
 became, like turbid water, blackened with the leaves, 
 branches, and fragments of all kinds it whirled along 
 with it. Trees fell crashing on all sides, and the remains 
 of the hut passed over their heads into the sea. 
 
 Helen behaved admirably. Speech was impossible, 
 but she thanked him without it — eloquently ; she 
 nestled her little hand into Hazel's, and, to Hazel, that 
 night, with all its awful sights and sounds, was a blissful 
 
FOUL PLAY. 269 
 
 one. She had been in danger, but now was safe by his 
 side. She had pressed his hand to thank him, and now 
 she was cowering a little towards him in a way that 
 claimed him as her protector. Her glorious hair blew 
 over him and seemed to net him : and now and then, as 
 they heard some crash nearer and more awful than 
 another, she clutched him quickly though lightly; for, 
 in danger, her sex love to feel a friend ; it is not enough 
 to see him near : and once, when a great dusky form of a 
 sea-lion came crawling over the mound, and, whimpering, 
 peeped into the boat-house, she even fled to his shoulder 
 with both hands for a moment, and was there, light as a 
 feather, till the creature had passed on. And his soul 
 was full of peace, and a great tranquillity overcame him. 
 He heard nothing of the wrack, knew nothing of the 
 danger. 
 
 Oh, mighty Love ! The tempest might blow, and fill 
 air and earth with ruin, so that it spared her. The wind 
 was kind, and gentle the night, which brought that hair 
 round his face, and that head so near his shoulder, and 
 gave him the holy joy of protecting under his wing the 
 soft creature he adored. 
 
270 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXII. 
 
 On the morning that followed this memorable night, 
 our personages seemed to change characters. Hazel sat 
 down before the relics of the hut — three or four strings 
 dangling, and a piece of net- work waving — and eyed 
 them with shame, regret, and humiliation. He was so 
 absorbed in his self-reproaches that he did not hear a 
 light footstep, and Helen RoUeston stood near him a 
 moment or two, and watched the play of his countenance 
 with a very inquisitive and kindly light in her own eyes. 
 
 " Kever mind," said she, soothingly. 
 
 Hazel started at the music. 
 
 "Kever mind your house being blown to atoms, and 
 mine has stood ? " said he, half reproachfully. 
 
 " You took too much pains with miae. And now I 
 want you to come and look at the havoc. It is terrible ; 
 and yet so grand." And thus she drew him away from 
 the sight that caused his pain. 
 
 They entered the wood, and viewed the devastation. 
 Prostrate trees lay across one another in astonishing 
 numbers, and in the strangest positions: and their 
 glorious plumes swept the earth. " Come," saidAe, " it 
 is a bad thing for the poor trees, but not for us. See, 
 the place is strewed with treasures. Here is a tree full 
 of fans all ready made. And what is that ? A horse's 
 tail growing on a cocoa tree ! and a long one too ! that 
 will make ropes for you, and thread for me. Ah, and 
 here is a cabbage. Poor Mr. Welch! Well, for one 
 thing, you need never saw nor climb any more. See the 
 advantages of a hurricane." 
 
FOUL PLAY. 271 
 
 From the wood she took him to the shore, and there 
 they found many birds lying dead; and Hazel picked 
 up several that he had read of as good to eat. For 
 certain signs had convinced him his fair and delicate 
 companion was carnivora, and must be nourished accord- 
 ingly. Seeing him so employed, she asked him archly 
 whether he was beginning to see the comforts of a hurri- 
 cane. "Not yet," said he; "the account is far from 
 even." 
 
 " Then come to where the rock was blown down." 
 She led the way gayly across the sands to a point where 
 an over-hanging crag had fallen, with two trees, and a 
 quantity of earth and plants that grew above it. But, 
 when they got nearer, she became suddenly grave, and 
 stood still. The mass had fallen upon a sheltered place, 
 where seals were hiding from the wind, and had buried 
 several ; for two or three limbs were sticking out, of 
 victims overwhelmed in the ruin ; and a magnificent 
 sea-lion lay clear of the smaller rubbish, but quite dead. 
 The cause was not far to seek : a ton of hard rock had 
 struck him, and then ploughed up the sand in a deep 
 furrow, and now rested within a yard or two of the 
 animal, whose back it had broken. Hazel went up to 
 the creature and looked at it : then he came to Helen ; 
 she was standing aloof. " Poor bugbear," said he. " Come 
 away : it is an ugly sight for you." 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Helen. Then, as they returned, 
 "Does not that reconcile you to the loss of a hut? 
 We are not blown away nor crushed." 
 
 " That is true," said Hazel ; " but suppose your health 
 should suffer from the exposure to such fearful weather. 
 So unlucky ! so cruel ! just as you were beginning to get 
 stronger." 
 
 " I am all the better for it. Shall I tell you ? Excite- 
 ment is a good thing ; not too often, of course, but now 
 
272 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 and then; and when we are in the humor for it, it is 
 meat and drink and medicine to us." 
 
 " What ! to a delicate young lady ? " 
 
 " Ay, ' to a delicate young lady.' Last night has done 
 me a world of good. It has shaken me out of myself. I 
 am in better health and spirits. Of course I am very 
 sorry the hut is blown down — because you took so much 
 trouble to build it; but, on my own account, I really 
 don't care a straw. Find me some corner to nestle in at 
 night, and all day I mean to be about, and busy as a bee, 
 helping you, and — Breakfast ! breakfast ! Oh, how 
 hungry I am." And this spirited girl led the way to the 
 boat with a briskness and a vigor that charmed and 
 astonished him. 
 
 " Souvent femme varie.'' 
 
 This gracious behavior did not blind Hazel to the 
 serious character of the situation, and all breakfast-time 
 he was thinking and thinking, and often kept a morsel 
 in his mouth, and forgot to eat it for several seconds, he 
 was so anxious and puzzled. At last he said, " I know a 
 large hoUow tree with apertures. If I were to close 
 them all but one, and keep that for the door ? No : 
 trees have betrayed me; I'll never trust another tree 
 with you. Stay: I know — I know a cavern." He 
 uttered the verb rather loudly, but the substantive with 
 a sudden feebleness of intonation that was amusing. 
 His timidity was superfluous; if he had said he knew 
 " a bank whereon the wild thyme grows," the suggestion 
 would have been well received that morning. 
 
 "A cavern!" cried Helen. "It has always been the 
 dream of my life to live in a cavern." 
 
 Hazel brightened up. But the next moment he clouded 
 again. "But I forgot. It will not do : there is a spring 
 running right through it; it comes down nearly perpen- 
 
FOUL PLAY. 273 
 
 dicular, through a channel it has bored, or enlarged ; and 
 splashes on the floor." 
 
 "How convenient ! " said Helen ; " then I shall have a 
 bath in my room, instead of having to go miles for it. 
 By the by, now you have invented the shower-bath, 
 please discover soap. Not that one really wants any in 
 this island ;■ for there is no dust, and the very air seems 
 purifying. But who can shake off the prejudices of 
 early education ? " 
 
 Hazel said, " Now I'll laugh as much as you like, when 
 once this care is off my mind." 
 
 He ran off to the cavern, and found it spacious and 
 safe ; but the spring was falling in great force, and the 
 roof of the cave glistening with moisture. It looked a 
 hopeless case. But if Necessity is the mother of inven- 
 tion, surely Love is the father. He mounted to the rock 
 above, and found the spot where the spring suddenly 
 descended into the earth with the loudest gurgle he had 
 ever heard; a gurgle of defiance. Nothing was to be 
 done there. But he traced it upwards a little way, and 
 found a place where it ran beside a deep decline. " Aha, 
 my friend ! " said he. He got his spade, and with some 
 hours' hard work dug it a fresh channel, and carried it 
 away entirely from its course. He returned to the 
 cavern. Water was dripping very fast ; but, on looking 
 up, he could see the light of day twinkling at the top of 
 the spiral watercourse he had robbed of its supply. 
 Then he conceived a truly original idea : why not turn 
 his empty watercourse into a chimney, and so give to 
 one element what he had taken from another ? He had 
 no time to execute this just then, for the tide was coming 
 in, and he could not afford to lose any one of those dead 
 animals. So he left the funnel to drip, that being a 
 process he had no means of expediting, and moored the 
 sea-lion to the very rock that had killed him, and was 
 18 
 
274 rouii PLAT. 
 
 proceeding to dig out the seals, -when a voice lie never 
 could hear without a thrill, summoned him to dinner. 
 
 It was a plentiful repast, and included roast pintado 
 and cabbage-palm. Helen EoUeston informed him 
 during dinner that he would no longer be allowed to 
 monopolize the labor attendant upon their condition. 
 
 "No," said she, "you are always working for me, and 
 I shall work for you. Cooking and washing are a 
 woman's work, not a man's ; and so are plaiting and 
 netting." 
 
 This healthy resolution, once formed, was adhered to 
 with a constancy that belonged to the girl's character. 
 The roof of the ruined hut came ashore in the bay that 
 evening, and was fastened over the boat. Hazel lighted 
 a bonfire in the cavern, and had the satisfaction of seeing 
 some of the smoke issue above. But he would not let 
 Miss Rolleston occupy it yet. He shifted her things to 
 the boat, and slept in the cave himseK. However, he 
 lost no time in laying down a great hearth, and built a 
 fireplace and chimney in the cave. The chimney went 
 up to the hole in the arch of the cave ; then came the 
 stone funnel, stolen from Nature; and above, on the 
 upper surface of the cliff, came the chimney-pot. Thus 
 the chimney acted like a G-erman stove: it stood in the 
 centre, and soon made the cavern very dry and warm, 
 and a fine retreat during the rains. When it was ready 
 for occupation, Helen said she would sail to it; she 
 would not go by land ; that was too tame for her. Hazel 
 had only to comply with her humor, and at high water 
 they got into the boat, and went down the river into the 
 sea with a rush that made Helen wince. He soon rowed 
 her across the bay to a point distant not more than fifty 
 yards from the cavern, and installed her. But he never 
 returned to the river ; it was an inconvenient place to 
 make excursions from; and, besides, all his work was 
 
FOUL PLAY. 275 
 
 now either in or about tlie cavern ; and that convenient 
 hurricane, as Helen called it, npt only made him a builder 
 again; it also made him a currier, a soap-boiler, and 
 a Salter. So they drew the boat just above high-water 
 mark in a sheltered nook, and he set up his arsenal 
 ashore. 
 
 In this situation, day glided by after day, and week 
 after week, in vigorous occupations, brightened by social 
 intercourse, and in some degree by the beauty and the 
 friendship of the animals. Of all this industry we can 
 only afford a brief summary. Hazel fixed two uprights 
 at each side of the cavern's mouth, and connected each 
 pair by a beam; a netting laid on these, and covered 
 with gigantic leaves from the prostrate palms, made a 
 sufficient roof in this sheltered spot. On this terrace 
 they could sit even in the rain, and view the sea. Helen 
 cooked in the cave, but served dinner up on this beauti- 
 ful terrace. So now she had a But and a Ben, as the 
 Scotch say. He got a hogshead of oil from the sea^lion ; 
 and so the cave was always lighted now, and that was a 
 great comfort, and gave them more hours of indoor employ- 
 ment and conversation. The poor bugbear really bright- 
 ened their existence. Of the same oil, boiled down and 
 mixed with wood ashes, he made soap, to Helen's great 
 delight. The hide of this animal was so thick he could 
 do nothing with it but cut off pieces to make the soles 
 of shoes if required. But the seals were miscellaneous 
 treasures ; he contrived with guano and aromaties to 
 curry their skins ; of their bladders he made vile parch- 
 ment, and of their entrails gut, catgut, and twine, beyond 
 compare. He salted two cubs, and laid up the rest in 
 store, by enclosing large pieces in clay. When these 
 were to be used, the clay was just put into hot embers 
 for some hours, then broken, and the meat eaten with all 
 its juices preserved. 
 
276 FOtTL PLAT. 
 
 Helen cooked and washed, and manufactured salt ; and 
 collected quite a store of wild cotton, tliougli it grey 
 very sparingly, and it cost her hours to find a few pods. 
 But in hunting for it she found other things, — health 
 for one. After sunset she was generally employed a 
 couple of hours on matters which occupy the fair in 
 every situation of life. She made herself a sealskin 
 jacket and pork-pie hat. She made Mr. Hazel a man's 
 cap of sealskin with a point. But her great work was 
 with the cotton, which she plaited, and then sewed the 
 plaits together and made pieces, which, after long labor, 
 were made into jacket and petticoat. 
 
 For two hours after sunset, no more (they rose at peep 
 of day), her physician allowed her to sit and work, 
 which she did, and often smiled, while he sat by and 
 discoursed to her of all the things he had read, and sur- 
 prised himself by the strength and activity of his 
 memory. He attributed it partly to the air of the island. 
 Nor were his fingers idle even at night. He had tools 
 to sharpen for the morrow, glass to make and polish out 
 of a laminated crystal he had found. And then the 
 hurricane had blown away, amongst many other proper- 
 ties, his map ; so he had to make another with similar 
 materials. He completed the map in due course, and 
 gave it to Helen. It was open to the same strictures 
 she had passed on the other. Hazel was no cartog- 
 rapher. Yet this time she had nothing but praise for it. 
 How was that ? 
 
 To the reader it is now presented, not as a specimen 
 of cartographic art, but as a little curiosity in its way, 
 being a facsimile of the map John Hazel drew for 
 Helen EoUeston, with such out-of-the-way materials as 
 that out-of-the-way island afforded. Above all, it will 
 enable the reader to follow our personages in their little 
 excursions past and future, and also to trace the course 
 of a mysterious event we have to record. 
 
278 FOUIi PLAY. 
 
 Believed of other immediate cares, Hazel's mind had 
 time to dwell upon the problem Helen had set him ; and 
 one fine day a conviction struck him that he had taken 
 a narrow and puerile view of it, and that, after all, there 
 must be in the nature of things some way to attract ships 
 from a distance. Possessed with this thought, he went 
 up to Telegraph Point, abstracted his mind from all 
 external objects, and fixed it on this idea, — but came 
 down as he went. He descended by some steps he had 
 cut sigzag for Helen's use, and as he put his foot on the 
 fifth step — whoo, whirr, whiz — came nine ducks, cool- 
 ing his head, they whizzed so close, and made right for 
 the lagoons. 
 
 "Hum!" thought Hazel, "I never see you ducks fly in 
 any direction but that." 
 
 This speculation rankled in him all night, and he told 
 Helen he should reconnoitre at daybreak, but should not 
 take her, as there might be snakes. He made the boat 
 ready at daybreak, and certain gannets, pintadoes, boobies, 
 and noddies, and divers with eyes in their heads like fiery 
 jewels — birds whose greedy maws he had often gratified 
 — chose to fancy he must be going a-fishing, and were on 
 the alert, and rather troublesome. However, he got adrift, 
 and ran out through North Gate, with a light westerly 
 breeze, followed by a whole fleet of birds. These were 
 joined in due course by another of his satellites, a young 
 seal he called Tommy, also fond of flshing. 
 
 The feathered convoy soon tailed off, but Tommy stuck 
 to him for about eight miles. He ran that distance to 
 have a nearer look at a small island which lay due north 
 of Telegraph Point. He satisfied himself it was little 
 more than a very long, large reef, the neighborhood of 
 which ought to be avoided by ships of burden, and 
 resolving to set some beacon or other on it ere long, 
 he christened it White Water Island, on accoiont of 
 
FOTJL PLAT. 279 
 
 the surf: he came about and headed for the East 
 Bluff. 
 
 Then Tommy gave him up in disgust; perhaps thought 
 his conduct vacillating. Animals all despise that. 
 
 He soon landed almost under the volcano, and moored 
 his boat not far from a cliff that seemed peaked with 
 snow ; but the snow was the guano of a thousand years. 
 Exercising due caution this time, he got up to the lagoons, 
 and found a great many ducks swimming about. He ap- 
 proached little parties to examine their varieties. They 
 all swam out of his way ; some of them even flew a few 
 yards, and then settled. Not one would let him come 
 within forty yards. This convinced Hazel the ducks 
 were not natives of the island, but strangers, who were 
 not much afraid, because they had never been molested 
 on this particular island ; but still distrusted man. 
 
 While he pondered thus, there was a great noise of 
 wings, and about a dozen ducks flew over his head on 
 the rise, and passed eastward, still rising till they got 
 into the high currents, and away upon the wings of the 
 wind for distant lands. 
 
 The grand rush of their wings and the off-hand way in 
 which they spurned, abandoned, and disappeared from, an 
 island that held him tight, made Hazel feel very small. 
 His thoughts took the form of satire. "Lords of the 
 creation, are we ? We sink in water ; in air we tumble ; 
 on earth we slaughter." 
 
 These pleasing reflections did not prevent his taking 
 their exact line of flight, and barking a tree to mark it. 
 He was about to leave the place, when he heard a splash- 
 ing not far from him, and there was a duck jumping 
 about on the water in a strange way. Hazel thought a 
 snake had got hold of her, and ran to her assistance. He 
 took her out of the water and soon found what was the 
 matter ; her bill was open, and a fish's tail sticking out. 
 
280 E-OUL PLAY. 
 
 Hazel inserted his finger and dragged out a small fish 
 which had erected the spines on its back so opportunely 
 as nearly to kill its destroyer. The duck recovered 
 enough to quack in a feeble and dubious manner. Hazel 
 kept her for Helen, because she was a plain brown duck. 
 With some little reluctance he slightly shortened one 
 wing, and stowed away his captire in the hold of the 
 boat. 
 
 He happened to have a great stock of pitch in the boat, 
 so he employed a few hours in writing upon the guano 
 rocks. On one he wrote in huge letters, — 
 
 AN ENGLISH LADY WRECKED HERE. 
 HASTE TO HER RESCUE. 
 
 On another he wrote in smaller letters, — 
 
 BEWARE THE REEFS ON THE NORTH SIDE. 
 LIB OFF FOR SIGNALS. 
 
 Then he came home and beached the boat, and brought 
 Helen his captive. 
 
 "Why, it is an English duck!" she cried, and was 
 enraptured. 
 
 By this visit to the lagoons. Hazel gathered that this 
 island was a half-way house for migrating birds, espe- 
 cially ducks ; and he inferred that the line those vagrants 
 had taken was the shortest way from this island to the 
 nearest land. This was worth knowing, and set his brain 
 working. He begged Helen to watch for the return of 
 the turtle doves (they had all left the island just before 
 the rain) and learn, if possible, from what point of the 
 compass they arrived. 
 
 The next expedition was undertaken to please Helen ; 
 she wished to examine the beautiful creeks and caves on 
 the north side, which they had seen from a distance when 
 they sailed round the island. 
 
FOTJIi PLAY. 281 
 
 They started on foot one delightful day, and walked 
 briskly, for the air, though balmy, was exhilarating. They 
 followed the course of the river till they came to the lake 
 that fed it, and was fed itself by hundreds of little natural 
 gutters down which the hills discharged the rains. This 
 was new to Helen, though not to Hazel. She produced 
 the map, and told the lake slyly that it was incorrect, a 
 little too big. She took some of the water in her hand, 
 sprinkled the lake with it, and called it Hazelmere. They 
 bore a little to the right and proceeded till they found a 
 creek shaped like a wedge, at whose broad end shone an 
 arch of foliage studded with flowers, and the sparkling 
 blue water peeped behind. This was tempting, but the 
 descent was rather hazardous at first ; great square blocks 
 of rock, one below another, and these rude steps were 
 coated with mosses of rich hue, but wet and slippery; 
 Hazel began to be alarmed for his companion. However, 
 after one or two difficulties, the fissure opened wider to 
 the sun, and they descended from the slimy rocks into a 
 sloping hot-bed of exotic flowers, and those huge succulent 
 leaves that are the glory of the tropics. The ground was 
 carpeted a yard deep with their luxuriance, and others, 
 more aspiring, climbed the warm sides of the diverging 
 cliffs, JMSt as creepers grow up a wall, lining every crevice 
 as they rose. In this blessed spot, warmed, yet not 
 scorched, by the tropical sun, and fed with trickling 
 waters, was seen what marvels boon Nature can do. 
 Here, our vegetable dwarfs were giants, and our flowers 
 were trees. One lovely giantess of the jasmine tribe, but 
 with flowers shaped like a marigold, and scented like a 
 tube-rose, had a stem as thick as a poplar and carried its 
 thousand buds and amber-colored flowers up eighty feet 
 of broken rock, and planted on every ledge suckers that 
 flowered again, and filled the air with perfume. Another 
 tree about half as high was covered with a cascade of 
 
282 FOTJL PLAY. 
 
 snow-white ' tulips, each as big as a small flower-pot, and 
 scented like honeysuckle. An aloe, ten feet high, blos- 
 somed in a corner unheeded among loftier beauties. And 
 at the very mouth of the fissure a huge banana leaned 
 across, and flung out its vast leaves, that seemed trans- 
 lucent gold against the sun ; under it shone a monstrous 
 cactus in all her pink and crimson glory; and through 
 the maze of color streamed the deep blue of the peaceful 
 ocean, laughing, and catching sunbeams. 
 
 Helen leaned against the cliff and quivered with delight 
 and that deep sense of flowers that belongs to your true 
 woman. 
 
 Hazel feared she was ill. 
 
 "111?" said she. "Who could be ill here? It is 
 heaven upon earth. Oh, you dears ! oh, you loves ! And 
 they all seem growing on the sea, and floating in the 
 sun." 
 
 "And it is only one of a dozen such," said Hazel. "If 
 you would like to inspect them at your leisure, I'll just 
 run to Palm-tree Point ; for my signal is all askew. I 
 saw that as we came along." 
 
 Helen assented readily, and he ran off, but left her the 
 provisions. She was not to wait dinner for him. 
 
 Helen examined two or three of the flowery fissures, 
 and found fresh beauties in each, and also some English 
 leaves, that gave her pleasure of another kind ; and, after 
 she had revelled in the flowers, she examined the shore, 
 and soon discovered that the rocks, which abounded here 
 (though there were also large patches of clear sand), were 
 nearly all pure coral, in great variety. Eed coral was 
 abundant ; and even the pink coral, to which fashion was 
 just then giving a fictitious value, was there by the ton. 
 This interested her, and so did some beautiful shells that 
 lay sparkling. The time passed swiftly, and she was 
 still busy in her researches, when suddenly it darkened 
 
FOUL PLAY. 283 
 
 a little, and, looking back, she saw a white vapor stealing 
 over the cliff, and curling down. 
 
 Upon this, she thought it prudent to return to the 
 place where Hazel had left her ; the more so as it was 
 near sunset. 
 
 The vapor descended and spread, and covered sea and 
 land. Then the sun set: and it was darkness visible. 
 Coming from the south, the sea^-fret caught Hazel sooner 
 and in a less favorable situation. Returning from the 
 palm-tree, he had taken the shortest cut through a small 
 jungle, and been so impeded by the scrub, that, when he 
 got clear, the fog was upon him. Between that and the 
 river, he lost his way several times, and did not hit 
 the river till near midnight. He followed the river to 
 the lake, and coasted the lake, and then groped his way 
 towards the creek. But, after a while, every step he 
 took was fraught with danger; and the night was far 
 advanced when he at last hit off the creek, as he 
 thought. He hallooed ; but there was no reply ; hallooed 
 again, and to his joy, her voice replied; but at a dis- 
 tance. He had come to the wrong creek. She was 
 farther westward. He groped his way westward, and 
 came to another creek. He hallooed to her, and she 
 answered him. But to attempt the descent would have 
 been mere suicide. She felt that herself, and almost 
 ordered him to stay where he was. 
 
 " Why, we can talk all the same," said she ; " and it is 
 not for long." 
 
 It was a curious position, and one typical of the rela- 
 tion between them. So near together, yet the barrier 
 so strong. 
 
 " I am afraid you must be very cold," said he. 
 
 "Oh, no; I have my sealskin jacket on; and it is so 
 sheltered here. I wish you were as well off." 
 
 " You are not afraid to be alone down there ? " 
 
284 FOUL PliAY. 
 
 "I am not alone when your voice is near me. Now 
 don't you fidget yourself, dear friend. I like these little 
 excitements. I have told you so before. Listen : how 
 calm and silent it all is; the place; the night! The 
 mind seems to fill with great ideas, and to feel its 
 immortality." 
 
 She spoke with solemnity, and he heard in silence. 
 
 Indeed it was a reverend time and place: the sea, 
 whose loud and penetrating tongue had, in some former 
 age, created the gully where they both sat apart, 
 had of late years receded, and kissed the sands gently 
 that calm night; so gently, that its long low murmur 
 seemed but the echo of tranquillity. 
 
 The voices of that pair sounded supernatural, one 
 speaking up, and the other down, the speakers quite 
 invisible. 
 
 "Mr. Hazel," said Helen, in a low, earnest voice; 
 "they say that night gives wisdom even to the wise; 
 think now, and tell me your true thoughts. Has 
 the foot of man ever trodden upon this island be- 
 fore ? » 
 
 There was a silence due to a question so grave, and 
 put with solemnity, at a solemn time, in a solemn 
 place. 
 
 At last Hazel's thoughtful voice came down. "The 
 world is very, very, very old. So old, that the words 
 ' ancient history ' are a falsehood, and Moses wrote but 
 as yesterday. And man is a very old animal upon this 
 old, old planet; and has been everywhere. I cannot 
 doubt he has been here." 
 
 Her voice went up. "But have you seen any 
 signs ? " 
 
 His voice came down. " I have not looked for them. 
 The bones and the weapons of primeval men are all 
 below earth's surface at this time of day." 
 
FOUL PliAY. 285 
 
 There was a dead silence. Then Helen's yoice -went 
 up again. "But in modern times? Has no man landed 
 here from f ar-ofE places, since ships were built ? " 
 
 The voice came sadly down. " I do not know." 
 
 The voice went up. " But think ! " 
 
 The voice came down. " What calamity can be new 
 in a world so old as this ? Everything we can do, and 
 suffer, others of our race have done, and suffered." 
 
 The voice went up. " Hush ! there's something moving 
 on the sand." 
 
 Hazel waited and listened. So did Helen, and her 
 breath came fast ; for in the stilly night she heard light 
 but mysterious sounds. Something was moving on the 
 sand very slowly, and softly, but nearer and nearer. 
 Her heart began to leap. She put out her hand instinc- 
 tively to clutch Mr. Hazel ; but he was too far off. She 
 had the presence of mind and the self-denial to disguise 
 her fears ; for she knew he would come headlong to her 
 assistance. 
 
 She said, in a quavering whisper, " I'm not frightened ; 
 only V — ery c — ^urious." 
 
 And now she became conscious that not only one but 
 several things were creeping about. 
 
 Presently the creeping ceased, and was followed by a 
 louder and more mysterious noise. In that silent night 
 it sounded like raking and digging. Three or four 
 mysterious visitants seemed to be making graves. 
 
 This was too much ; especially coming as it did after 
 talk about the primeval dead. Her desire to screEim was 
 so strong, and she was so afraid Hazel would break his 
 neck if she relieved her mind in that way, that she 
 actually took her handkerchief and bit it hard- 
 
 But this situation was cut short by a beneficent lumi- 
 nary. The sun rose with a magnificent bound — it was 
 his way in that latitude — and everything unpleasant 
 
286 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 winced that moment ; the fog shivered in its turn, and 
 appeared to open in furrows, as great javelins of golden 
 light shot through it from the swiftly rising orb. Soon, 
 these golden darts increased to streams of potable fire, 
 that burst the fog and illumined the wet sands: and 
 Helen burst out laughing like chanticleer, for this first 
 break of day revealed the sextons that had scared her — 
 three ponderous turtles, crawling, slow and clumsy, 
 back to sea. Hazel joined her, and they soon found 
 what these evil spirits of the island had been at, poor 
 wretches. They had each buried a dozen eggs in the 
 sand: one dozen of which were very soon set boiling. 
 At first, indeed, Helen objected that they had no shells, 
 but Hazel told her she might as well complain of a 
 rose without a thorn. He assured her turtles' eggs were 
 a known delicacy, and very superior to birds' eggs ; and 
 so she found them; they were eaten with the keenest 
 relish. 
 
 "And now," said Helen, "for my discoveries. First, 
 here are my English leaves, only bigger. I found them 
 on a large tree." 
 
 " English leaves ! " cried Hazel, with rapture. " Why, 
 it is the caoutchouc." 
 
 "Oh, dear," said Helen, disappointed; "I took it for 
 the indiarrubber tree." 
 
 " It is the indiarrubber tree ; and I have been hunting 
 for it all over the island in vain, and using wretchedly 
 inferior gums for want of it." 
 
 " I'm so glad," said Helen. " And now I have some- 
 thing else to show you : something that curdled my 
 blood. But I dare say I was very foolish." She then 
 took him half across the sand and pointed out to him a 
 number of stones dotted over the sand in a sort of 
 oval. These stones, streaked with seargrass, and en- 
 crusted with small shells, were not at equal distances, 
 
FOUIi PLAY. 287 
 
 but yet, allowing for gaps, they formed a decided fig- 
 ure. Their outline resembled a great fish wanting the 
 taiL 
 
 • • 
 
 
 " Can this be chance ? " asked Helen ; " oh, if it 
 should be what I fear, and that is — savages!" 
 
 Hazel considered it attentively a long time. " Too far 
 at sea for living savages," said he. " And yet it cannot 
 be chance. What on earth is it ? It looks Druidieal. 
 But how can that be ? The island was smaller when 
 these were placed here than it is now." He went nearer 
 and examined one of the stones : then he scraped away 
 the sand from its base, and found it was not shaped like 
 a stone, but more like a whale's rib. He became excited ; 
 went on his knees, and tore the sand up with his hands. 
 Then he rose up agitated, and traced the outline again. 
 " Great Heaven ! " said he, "why, it is a ship." 
 
 « A ship ! " 
 
 "Ay," said he, standing in the middle of it; "here, 
 beneath our feet, lies man ; with his work, and his treas- 
 ures. This carcass has been here for many a long year ; 
 not so very long neither ; she is too big for the sixteenth 
 century, and yet she must have been sunk when the 
 island was smaller. I take it to be a Spanish or Portu- 
 guese ship : probably one of those treasure ships, our 
 commodores, and chartered pirates, and the American 
 buccaneers, used to chase about the seas. Here lie her 
 bones, and the bones of her crew. Your question was 
 
288 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 soon answered. All that we can say haB been said : can 
 do, has been done ; can suffer, has been suffered." 
 
 They were silent, and the sunk ship's bones moTed 
 them strangely. In their deep isolation from the human 
 race, even the presence of the dead brought humanity 
 somehow nearer to them. 
 
 They walked thoughtfully away, and made across the 
 sands for Telegraph Point. 
 
 Before they got home, Helen suggested that perhaps, 
 if he were to dig in the ship, he might find something 
 useful. 
 
 He shook his head. "Impossible! the iron has all 
 melted away like sugar long before this. Nothing can 
 have survived but gold and silver, and they are not 
 worth picking up, much less digging for; my time is 
 too precious. No, you have found two buried treasures 
 to-day — turtles' eggs, and a ship, freighted, as I think, 
 with what men call the precious metals. Well, the eggs 
 are gold, and the gold is a drug — there it will lie 
 for me." 
 
 Both discoveries bore fruits. The ship : — Hazel made 
 a vow that never again should any poor ship lay her ribs 
 on this island for want of warning. He buoyed the 
 reefs. He ran out to White Water Island, and wrote 
 an earnest warning on the black reef, and, this time, he 
 wrote with white on black. He wrote a similar warning, 
 with black on white, at the western extremity of God- 
 send Island. 
 
 The eggs : — Hazel watched for the turtles at daybreak ; 
 turned one now and then ; and fed Helen on the meat 
 or its eggs, morn, noon, and night. 
 
 For some time she had been advancing in health and 
 strength. But, now she was all day in the air, she got 
 the full benefit of the wonderful climate, and her health, 
 appetite, and muscular vigor became truly astonishing ; 
 
FOUL PLAT. 289 
 
 especially under what Hazel called the turtle cure; 
 though, indeed, she was cured before. She ate three 
 good meals a day, and needed them: for she was up 
 with the sun, and her hands and feet were never idle till 
 he set. 
 
 Four months on the island had done this. But four 
 months had not shown those straining eyes the white 
 speck on the horizon ; the sail, so looked and longed for. 
 
 Hazel often walked the island by himself; not to 
 explore, for he knew the place well by this time, but he 
 went his rounds to see that all his signals were in 
 working order. 
 
 He went to Mount Lookout one day with this view. 
 It was about an hour before noon. Long before he got 
 to the mountain he had scanned the horizon carefully, as 
 a matter of course ; but not a speck. So, when he got 
 there, he did not look seaward, but just saw that his 
 flag-staff was all right, and was about to turn away and 
 go home, when he happened to glance at the water; 
 and there, underneath him, he saw — a ship; standing 
 towards the island. 
 
 19 
 
290 FOTJL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 He started, and nibbed his eyes, and looked again. 
 It was no delusion. Things never did come as they are 
 expected to come. There was still no doubtful speck on 
 the horizon ; but within eight miles of the island — and 
 in this lovely air that looked nearly close — was a ship- 
 under canvas. She bore S.E. from Mount Lookout, and 
 S.S.E. from the east bluff of the island, towards which 
 her course was apparently directed. She had a fair 
 wind, but was not going fast; being heavily laden, and 
 under no press of sail. A keen thrill went through him ; 
 and his mind was in a whirl. He ran home with the 
 great news. 
 
 But, even as he ran, a cold sickly feeling crawled over 
 him. 
 
 "That ship parts her and me." 
 
 He resisted the feeling as a thing too monstrous and 
 selfish, and resisted it so fiercely, that, when he got to 
 the slopes and saw Helen busy at her work, he waved 
 his hat and hurrahed again and again, and seemed almost 
 mad with triumph. 
 
 Helen stood transfixed; she had never seen him in 
 such a state. 
 
 " Good news ! " he cried ; " great news ! A ship in 
 sight ! You are rescued ! " 
 
 Her heart leaped into her mouth. 
 
 " A ship ! " she screamed. " Where ? where ? " He 
 came up to her, panting. 
 
 " Close under the island. Hid by the bluff ; but you 
 will see her in half an hour. God be praised! Get 
 
EOXTL PIiAY. 291 
 
 everything ready to go. Hurrah ! this is our last day on 
 the island." 
 
 The words were brave, and loud, and boisterous, but 
 the face was pale and drawn, and Helen saw it, and 
 though she bustled and got ready to leave, the tears were 
 in her eyes. But the event was too great to be resisted. 
 A wild excitement grew on them both. They ran about 
 like persons crazed, and took things up, and laid them 
 down again, scarcely knowing what they were doing. 
 But presently they were sobered a little, for the ship did 
 not appear. They ran across the sands, where they could 
 see tite bluff; she ought to have passed that half an 
 hour ago. 
 
 Hazel thought she must hare anchored. 
 
 Helen looked at him steadily. 
 
 " Dear friend," said she, " are you sure there is a ship 
 at all ? Are you not under a delusion ? This island 
 fills the mind with fancies. One day I thought I saw 
 a ship sailing in the sky. Ah ! " She uttered a faint 
 seream, for, while she was speaking, the bowsprit and 
 jib of a vessel glided past the bluff so closely, they 
 seemed to scrape it, and a ship emerged grandly, and 
 glided along the cliff. 
 
 "Are they mad," cried Hazel, "to hug the shore like 
 that ? Ah ! they have seen my warning." 
 
 And it appeared so, for the ship just then came up in 
 the wind several points, and left the bluff dead astern. 
 
 She sailed a little way out on that course, and then 
 paid off again, and seemed inclined to range along the 
 coast. But presently she was up in the wind agaia, and 
 made a greater offing. She was sailed in a strange, 
 vacillating way ; but Hazel ascribed this to her people's 
 fear of the reefs he had indicated to all comers. The 
 belJter to watch her manoeuvres, and signal her, if neces- 
 sary, they both went up to Telegraph Point. They could 
 
292 POUi PLAY. 
 
 not go out to her, being low water. Seen from this 
 height, the working of this vessel was unaccountable. 
 She was to and off the wind as often as if she was drunk 
 herself, or commanded by a drunken skipper. However, 
 she was kept well clear of the home reefs, and made a 
 good offing, and so at last she opened the bay heading 
 N.W., and distant four miles, or thereabouts. Now was 
 the time to drop her anchor. So Hazel worked the tele- 
 graph to draw her attention, and waved his hat and hand 
 to her. But the ship sailed on. She yawed immensely, 
 but she kept her course ; and when she had gone a mile 
 or two more, the sickening truth forced itself at last 
 upon those eager watchers. She had decided not to 
 touch at the island. In vain their joyful signals. In 
 vain the telegraph. In vain that cry for help upon the 
 eastern cliff : it had saved her, but not pleaded for them. 
 The monsters saw them on the height — their hope, their 
 joy — saw and abandoned them. 
 
 They looked at one another with dilating eyes, to read 
 in a human face whether such a deed as this could really 
 be done by man upon his fellow. Then they uttered 
 wild cries to the receding vessel. 
 
 Vain, vain, all was in vain. 
 
 Then they sat down stupefied, but still glaring at the 
 ship, and each, at the same moment, held out a hand to 
 the other, and they sat hand in hand; all the world 
 to each other just then, for there was the world in sight 
 abandoning them in cold blood. 
 
 "Be calm, dear friend," said Helen patiently. "Oh, 
 my poor father ! " And her other hand thi-ew her apron 
 over her head, and then came a burst of anguish that no 
 words could utter. 
 
 At this Hazel started to his feet in fury. 
 
 "Now may the God that made sea and land judge 
 between those miscreants there and youl" 
 
POTJI, PLAY. 293 
 
 "Be patient," said Helen, sobbing. " Oh, be patient." 
 
 "No ! I will not be patient," roared HazeL " Judge 
 thou her cause, God! each of these tears against a 
 reptile's soul." 
 
 And so he stood glaring, and his hair blowing wildly 
 to the breeze ; while she sat patiently at his knee. 
 
 Presently he began to watch the vessel with a grim 
 and bitter eye. Anon he burst out suddenly, "Aha! 
 that is right. Well steered. — Don't cry, sweet one; 
 our cause is heard. Are they blind ? Are they drunk ? 
 Are they sick ? I see nobody on deck ! Perhaps I have 
 been too — God forgive me, the ship's ashore ! " 
 
294 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIV. 
 
 Heleit looked up ; and there was the ship fast, and on 
 her side. She was on the White "Water Eeef. Not upon 
 the black rocks themselves, but on a part of them that 
 was under water. 
 
 Hazel ran down to the beach ; and there Helen found 
 him greatly agitated. All his anger was gone ; he had 
 but one thought now — to go out to her assistance. But 
 it still wanted an hour to high water, and it was blowing 
 smartly, and there was nearly always a surf upon that 
 reef. What if the vessel should break up, and lives be 
 lost? 
 
 He paced the sands like a wild beast in its cage, in an 
 agony of pity, remorse, and burning impatience. His 
 feelings became intolerable ; he set his back to the boat, 
 and with herculean strength forced it down a little way 
 to meet the tide. He got logs and put them down for 
 rollers. He strove, he strained, he struggled till his face 
 and hands were purple. And at last he met the flowing 
 tide, and in a moment jumped into the boat, and pushed 
 off. Helen begged with sparkling eyes to be allowed to 
 accompany him. 
 
 "What, to a ship smitten with scurvy, or Heaven 
 knows what ? Certainly not. Besides, you would be 
 wet through; it is blowing rather fresh, and I shall 
 carry on. Pray for the poor souls I go to help ; and for 
 me, who have sinned in my anger." 
 
 He hoisted his sail, and ran out. 
 
 Helen stood on the bank, and watched him with tender 
 admiration. How good and brave he was ! And he could 
 
POTTL PLAY. 295 
 
 go into a passion too, when she was wronged, or when 
 he thought she was. Well ! she admired him none the 
 less for that. She watched him at first with admiration, 
 but soon with anxiety; for he had no sooner passed 
 North G-ate, than the cutter, having both sails set, though 
 reefed, lay down very much, and her huU kept disappear- 
 ing. Helen felt anxious, and would have been downright 
 frightened, but for her confidence in his prowess. 
 
 By and by only her staggering sails were visible ; and 
 the sun set ere she reached the creek. The wind declined 
 with the sun, and Helen made two great fires, and pre- 
 pared food for the sufferers: for she made sure Hazel 
 would bring them off in a few hours more. She prom- 
 ised herself the happiness of relieving the distressed. 
 But to her infinite surprise she found herself almost 
 regretting that the island was likely to be peopled with 
 strangers. No matter, she should sit up for them all 
 night, and be very kind to them, poor things; though 
 they had not been very kind to her. 
 
 About midnight the wind shifted to the northwest, 
 and blew hard. 
 
 Helen ran down to the shore, and looked seaward. 
 This was a fair wind for Hazel's return ; and she began 
 to expect him every hour. But, no; he delayed un- 
 accountably. 
 
 And the worst of it was, it began to blow a gale : and 
 this wind sent the sea rolling into the bay in a manner 
 that alarmed her seriously. 
 
 The night wore on ; no signs of the boat ! and now 
 there was a heavy gale outside, and a great sea rolling 
 in, brown and foaming. 
 
 Day broke, and showed the sea for a mile or two ; the 
 rest was hidden by driving rain. 
 
 Helen kneeled on the shore and prayed for him. 
 
 Dire misgivings oppressed her. And soon these were 
 
296 FOUIi PLAT. 
 
 heightened to terror; for the sea began to disgorge things 
 of a kind that had never come ashore before. A great 
 ship's mast came tossing: huge as it was, the waves 
 handled it like a toy. Then came a barrel; then a 
 broken spar. These were but the forerunners of more 
 fearful havoc. 
 
 The sea became strewed and literally blackened with 
 fragments ; part wreck, part cargo of a broken vessel. 
 
 But what was all this compared with the horror that 
 followed ? 
 
 A black object caught her eye; driven in upon the 
 crest of a wave. 
 
 She looked, with her hair flying straight back, and her 
 eyes almost starting from her head. 
 
 It was a boat, bottom up ; driven on, and tossed like a 
 cork. 
 
 It came nearer, nearer, nearer. 
 
 She dashed into the water with a wild scream, but a 
 wave beat her backwards on the sand, and, as she rose, 
 an enormous roller lifted the boat upright into the air, 
 and, breaking, dashed it keel downwards on the beach at 
 her side — empty 1 
 
POTO PLAY. 297 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXV. 
 
 Helen uttered a shriek of agony, and her knees smote 
 together, and she wonld have swooned on the spot but 
 for the wind and the spray that beat against her. 
 
 To the fearful stun succeeded the wildest distress. 
 She ran to and fro like some wild animal bereaved ; she 
 kept wringing her hands and uttering cries of pity and 
 despair, and went back to the boat a hundred times ; it 
 held her by a spell. 
 
 It was long before she could think connectedly, and, 
 even then, it was not of herself, nor of her lonely state ; 
 but only, Why did she not die with him ? Why did she 
 not die instead of him ? 
 
 He had been all the world to her ; and now she knew 
 it. Oh, what a friend, what a champion, what a lover 
 these cruel waves had destroyed ! 
 
 The morning broke, and stiU she hovered and hovered 
 about the fatal boat, with great horror-stricken eyes, and 
 hair flying to the breeze, and not a tear. If she could 
 only have smoothed his last moments, have spoken one 
 word into his dying ear ! But, no ! Her poor hero had 
 died in going to save others ; died thinking her as cold 
 as the waters that had destroyed him. 
 
 Dead or alive, he was aU the world to her now. She 
 went, wailing piteously, and imploring the waves to give 
 her at least his dead body to speak to, and mourn over. 
 But the sea denied her even that dismal consolation. 
 
 The next tide brought in a few more fragments of the 
 wreck, but no corpse floated ashore. 
 
 Then at last, as the waves once more retired, leaving, 
 
298 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 this time, only petty fragments of wreck on the beach, 
 she lifted up her voice, and almost wept her heart out of 
 her body. 
 
 Such tears as these are seldom without effect on the 
 mind: and Helen now began to rebel, though faintly, 
 against despair. She had been quite crushed, at first, 
 under the material evidence — the boat driven empty by 
 the very wind and waves that had done the cruel deed. 
 But the heart is averse to believe calamity, and especially 
 bereavement ; and very ingenious in arguing against that 
 bitterest of all woes. So she now sat down and brooded, 
 and her mind fastened with pathetic ingenuity on every 
 circumstance that could bear a favorable construction. 
 The mast had not been broken ; how, then, had it been 
 lost ? The body had not come ashore. He had had time 
 to get to the wreck before the gale from the north came 
 on at all ; and why should a fair wind, though powerful, 
 upset the boat ? On these slender things she began to 
 build a superstructure of hope ; but soon her heart inter- 
 rupted the reasoning. " What would he do in my place ? 
 would he sit guessing while hope had a hair to hang 
 by ? " That thought struck her like a spur : and in a 
 moment she bounded into action, erect, her lips fixed, 
 and her eye on fire, though her cheek was very pale. 
 She went swiftly to Hazel's store, and searched it; 
 there she found the jib-sail, a boat-hook, some rope, and 
 one little oar, that Hazel was making for her, and had 
 not quite completed. The sight of this, his last work, 
 overpowered her again ; and she sat down and took it on 
 her knees, and kissed it, and cried over it. And these 
 tears weakened her for a time. She felt it, and had the 
 resolution to leave the oar behind. A single oar was of 
 no use to row with. She rigged the boat-hook as a mast, 
 and fastened the sail to it ; and, with this poor equip- 
 ment, she actually resolved to put out to sea. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 299 
 
 The wind still 'blew smartly, and there was no blue 
 «ky visible. 
 
 And now she remembeied she had eaten nolMng ; that 
 would not do. Her strength might faU her. She made 
 ready a meal, and ate it almost fiercely, and by a pure 
 effort of resolution ; as she was doing all the rest. 
 
 By this time it was nearly high tide. She watched the 
 water creeping np. Will it float the boat ? It rises over 
 the keel ; two inches, three inches. Five inches water ! 
 Xow she pushes with all her strength. No ; the boat has 
 water in it she had forgotten to bail ont. She strained 
 every nerve, but could not move it. She stopped to take 
 breath, and husband her strength. But, when she re- 
 newed her efforts, the five inches were four, and she bad 
 the misery of seeing the water crawl away by degrees, 
 and leave the boat high and dry. 
 
 She sighed, heart-broken, awhile ; then went home and 
 prayed. 
 
 When she had prayed a long time for strength and 
 wisdom, she lay down for an hour, and tried to sleep, 
 but failed. Then she prepared for a more serious strug- 
 gle with the many difficulties she had to encounter. Now 
 she thanked God more than ever for the health and rare 
 strength she had acquired in this island : without them 
 she could have done nothing now. She got a clay plat- 
 ter, and baled the vessel nearly dry. She left a little 
 water for ballast. She fortified herself witt food, and 
 put provisions and water on board the boat. In imita- 
 tion of Haeel, she went and got two round logs, and, as 
 soon 'as the tide crawled np to four inches, she lifted the 
 bow a Kt^ and got a roller under. Then she went to 
 the boat's stem, set her teeth, and pushed with a rush 
 <d excitement that gave her almost a man's strength 
 
 The stubborn boat seemed elastic, and all but moved. 
 -Tfeen instinct taught her where her true strength lay. 
 
300 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 , She got to tte stern of the boat, and setting the small 
 of her hack under the projecting gunwale, she gath- 
 ered herself together and gave a superb heave, that 
 moved the boat a foot. She followed it up, and heaved 
 again with like effect. Then with a cry of joy, she ran 
 and put down another roller forward. The boat was now 
 on two rollers : one more magnificent heave with all her 
 zeal, and strength, and youth, and the boat glided for- 
 ward. She turned and rushed at it as it went, and the 
 water deepening, and a gust catching the sail, it went 
 out to sea, and she had only just time to throw herself 
 across the gunwale, panting. She was afloat. The wind 
 was S.W., and before she knew where she was, the boat 
 headed towards the home reefs, and slipped through the 
 water pretty fast, considering how small a sail she car- 
 ried. She ran to the helm. Alas ! the rudder was 
 broken off above the water-line. The helm was a mock- 
 ery, and the boat running for the reefs. She slacked 
 the sheet, and the boat lost her way, and began to drift 
 with the tide, which, luckily, had not yet turned. It 
 carried her in shore. 
 
 Helen cast her eyes around for an expedient, and she 
 unshipped one of the transoms, and by trailing it over 
 the side, and alternately slacking and hauling the sheet, 
 she contrived to make the boat crawl like a winged bird 
 through the western passage. After that it soon got 
 becalmed under the cliff, and drifted into two feet 
 water. 
 
 Instantly she tied a rope to the mast, got out into the 
 water, and took the rope ashore. She tied it round a 
 heavy barrel she found there, and set the barrel up, and 
 heaped stones around it and on it, which unfortunately 
 was a long job, though she worked with feverish haste ; 
 then she went round the point, sometimes wet and some- 
 times dry, for the little oar she had left behind, because 
 
FOTJIi PLAY. 301 
 
 it broke her heart to look at. Away with such weakness 
 now ! With that oar, his last work, she might steer if 
 she covild not row. She got it. She came back to the 
 boat to recommence her voyage. 
 
 She found the boat all safe, but in six inches of water, 
 and the tide going out. So ended her voyage : four hun- 
 dred yards at most, and then to wait another twelve 
 hours for the tide. 
 
 It was too cruel : and every hour so precious ; for, 
 even if Hazel were alive, he would die of cold and 
 hunger ere she could get to him. She cried like a 
 woman. She persisted like a man. 
 
 She made several trips, and put away things in the 
 boat that could possibly be of use — abundant provision, 
 and a keg of water ; Hazel's wooden spade to paddle or 
 steer with ; his basket of tools, etc. Then she snatched 
 some sleep; but it was broken by sad and terrible 
 dreams : then she waited in an agony of impatience for 
 high water. 
 
 We are not always the best judges of what is good for 
 us. Probably these delays saved her own life. She 
 went out at last under far more favorable circumstances — 
 a light westerly breeze, and no reefs to pass through. 
 She was, however, severely incommoded with a ground- 
 swell. 
 
 At first she steered with the spade as well as she 
 could ; but she found this was not sufficient. The cur- 
 rent ran westerly, and she was drifting out of her course. 
 Then she remembered Hazel's lessons, and made shift 
 to fasten the spade to the helm, and then lashed the 
 helm. Even this did not quite do ; so she took her little 
 oar, kissed it, cried over it a little, and then pulled man- 
 fully with it so as to keep the true course. It was a 
 muggy day, neither wet nor dry. White Water Island 
 was not in sight from Godsend Island ; but as soon as 
 
302 I'OUIi PLAY. 
 
 ste lost the latter, the former became visible — an ugly 
 grinning reef with an eternal surf on the south and 
 western sides. 
 
 Often she left off rowing, and turned to look at it. It 
 was all black and blank, except the white and fatal surf. 
 
 When she was about four miles from the nearest part 
 of the reef, there was a rush and bubble in the water, 
 and a great shark came after the boat. Helen screamed, 
 and turned very cold. She dreaded the monster not for 
 what he could do now, but for what he might have done. 
 He seemed to know the boat, he swam so vigilantly 
 behind it. Was he there when the boat upset with Hazel 
 in it ? Was it in his greedy maw the remains of her 
 best friend must be sought ? Her lips opened, but no 
 sound. She shuddered and hid her face at this awful 
 thou^t. 
 
 The shark followed steadily. 
 
 She got to the reef, but did not hit it off as she in- 
 tended. She ran under its lee, lowered the little sail, 
 and steered the boat into a nick where the shark could 
 hardly follow her. 
 
 But he moved to and fro like a sentinel, while she 
 landed in trepidation and secured the boat to the branches 
 of a white coral rock. 
 
 She found the place much larger than it looked from 
 Telegraph Point. It was an archipelago of coral reef 
 encrusted here and there with shells. She could not see 
 all over it, where she was, so she made for what seemed 
 the highest part, a bleak, seaweedy mound, with some 
 sandy hillocks about it. She went up to this, and looked 
 eagerly all round. 
 
 Not a soul. 
 
 She called as loud as her sinking heart would let her. 
 
 Not a sound. 
 
 She' felt very sick, and sat down upon the mound. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 303 
 
 When she had yielded awhile to the -weakness of her 
 sex, she got up, and was her father's daughter again. She 
 set to work to examine every foot of the reef. 
 
 It was no easy task. The rocks were rugged and 
 sharp in places, slippery in others ; often she had to go 
 about, and once she fell and hurt her pretty hands and 
 made them bleed ; she never looked at them, nor heeded, 
 but got up and sighed at the interruption : then patiently 
 persisted. It took her two hours to examine thus, in 
 detail, one half the island: but at last she discovered 
 something. She saw at the eastern side of the reef a 
 wooden figure of a woman, and, making her way to it, 
 found the figure-head, and a piece of the bow of the ship, 
 with a sail on it, and a yard on that. This fragment 
 was wedged into an angle of the reef, and the seaward 
 edge of it shattered in a way that struck terror to Helen, 
 for it showed her how omnipotent the sea had been. On 
 the reef itself she found a cask with its head stove in, 
 also a little keg, a ship's lantern, and two wooden dhests 
 or cases. But what was all this to her ? 
 
 She sat down again, for her knees failed her. Pres- 
 ently there was a sort of moan near her, and a seal 
 splashed into the water and dived out of her sight. She 
 put her hands on her heart, and bowed her head down, 
 utterly desolate. She sat thus for a long time indeed, 
 until she was interrupted by a most unexpected visitor. 
 Something came sniffing up to her and put a cold nose to 
 her hand. She started violently, and both her hands 
 were in the air in a moment. 
 
 It was a dog, a pointer. He whimpered and tried to 
 gambol, but could not manage it; he was too weak. 
 However, he contrived to let her see with the wagging 
 of his tail, and a certain contemporaneous twist of his 
 emaciated body, that she was welcome. But, having 
 performed thia ceremony, he trotted feebly away, leaving 
 
304 KOTJL PLAY. 
 
 her very mucli startled, and not tnowing what to think ; 
 indeed, this incident set her trembling all over. 
 
 A dog saved from the wreck ! Then why not a man ? 
 And why not that life ? Oh, thought she, would God 
 save that creature, and not pity my poor angel and me ? 
 
 She got up animated with hope, and recommenced her 
 researches. She now kept at the outward edge of the 
 island, and so went all round till she reached her boat 
 again. The shark was swimming to and fro, waiting for 
 her with horrible pertinacity. She tried to eat a mouth- 
 ful, but, though she was faint, she could not eat. She 
 drank a mouthful of water, and then went to search the 
 very small portion that remained of the reef, and to take 
 the poor dog home with her, because he she had lost was 
 so good to animals. Only his example is left me, she 
 said ; and with that came another burst of sorrow. But 
 she got up and did the rest of her work, crying as she 
 went. After some severe travelling she got near the 
 north-east limit, and in a sort of gully she saw the dog, 
 quietly seated high on his tail. She called him ; but he 
 never moved. So, then, she went to him, and, when she 
 got near him, she saw why he would not come. He was 
 watching. Close by him lay the form of a man nearly 
 covered with searweed. The feet were visible, and so 
 was the face, the latter deadly pale. It was he. In a 
 moment she was by him, and leaning over him with both 
 hands quivering. Was he dead ? No ; his eyes were 
 closed ; he was fast asleep. 
 
 Her hands flew to his face to feel him alive, and then 
 grasped both his hands and drew them up towards her 
 panting bosom ; and the tears of joy streamed from her 
 eyes, as she sobbed and murmured over him, she knew 
 not what. At that he awoke and stared at her. He 
 uttered a loud ejaculation of joy and wonder, then taking 
 it all in, burst into tears himself, and fell to kissing her 
 
FOUL PLAY. 306 
 
 hands and blessing her. The poor soul had almost 
 given himself up for lost. And to be saved all in a 
 moment, and by her ! 
 
 They could neither of them speaik, but only mingled 
 tears of joy and gratitude. 
 
 Hazel recovered himself first; and rising somewhat 
 stiffly, lent her his arm. Her father's spirit went out of 
 her in the moment of victory, and she was all woman, — 
 sweet, loving, clinging woman. She got hold of his hand 
 as well as his arm, and clutched it so tight, her little 
 grasp seemed velvet and steel. 
 
 "Let me feel you," said she: "but no words ! no 
 words ! " 
 
 He supported his preserver tenderly to the boat, then, 
 hoisting the sail, he fetched the east side in two tacks, 
 shipped the sail and yard, and also the cask, keg, and 
 boxes. He then put a great quantity of loose oysters on 
 board, each as large as a plate. She looked at him with 
 amazement. 
 
 "What!" said she, when he had quite loaded the boat, 
 "only just out of the jaws of death, and yet you can 
 trouble your head about oysters and things." 
 
 " Wait till you see what I shall do with them," said 
 he. " These are pearl oysters. I gathered them foi you, 
 when I had little hope I should ever see you again to 
 give them you." 
 
 This was an unlucky speech. The act, that seemed so 
 small and natural a thing to him, the woman's heart 
 measured more correctly. Something rose in her throat; 
 she tried to laugh instead of crying, and so she did both, 
 and went into a violent fit of hysterics that showed how 
 thoroughly her nature had been stirred to its depths. 
 She quite frightened Hazel : and indeed the strength of 
 an excited woman's weakness is sometimes alarming to 
 manly natures. 
 20 
 
306 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 He did all he could to soothe her; without much 
 success. As soon as she was better he set sail, thinking 
 home was the best place for her. She leant back 
 exhausted, and, after a while, seemed to be asleep. We 
 don't believe she was, but Hazel did ; and sat, cold and 
 aching in body, but warm at heart, worshipping her with 
 all his eyes. 
 
 At last they got ashore ; and he sat by her fire and 
 told her all, while she cooked his supper and warmed 
 clothes at the fire for him. 
 
 " The ship," said he, " was a Dutch vessel, bound from 
 Batavia to Callao, that had probably gone on her beam 
 ends, for she was full of water. Her crew had abandoned 
 her ; I think they underrated the buoyancy of the ship 
 and cargo. They left the poor dog on board. Her helm 
 was lashed a-weather a couple of turns : but why, I am 
 not seaman enough to say. I boarded her : unshipped 
 my mast, and moored the boat to the ship ; fed the poor 
 dog; rummaged in the hold, and contrived to hoist up 
 a small cask of salted beef, and a keg of rum, and some 
 cases of grain and seeds. I managed to slide these on to 
 the reef by means of the mast and oar lashed together. 
 But a roller ground the wreck further on to the reef, 
 and the sudden snap broke the rope, as I suppose, and 
 the boat went to sea. I never knew the misfortune till 
 I saw her adrift. I could have got over that by making 
 a raft ; but the gale from the north brought such a sea 
 on us. I saw she must break up, so I got ashore how I 
 could. Ah, I little thought to see your face again, still 
 less that I should owe my life to you." 
 
 " Spare me," said Helen, faintly. 
 
 " What, must not I thank you even for my life ? " 
 
 " Ko. The account is far from even yet." 
 
 "You are no arithmetician to say so. What astonishes 
 me most is that you have never once scolded me for all 
 the trouble and anxiety — " 
 
FOTTL PLAY. 307 
 
 " I am too Imppy to see you sitting there, to scold yovu 
 But, still I do ask you, to leave the sea alone, after this. 
 The treacherous monster! Oh, think what you and I 
 have suffered on it." 
 
 She seemed quite worn out. He saw that, and retired 
 for the night, easting one more wistful glance on her. 
 But at that moment she was afraid to look at him. Her 
 heart was welling over with tenderness for the dear 
 friend whose life she had saved. 
 
 Next morning Hazel rose at daybreak as usual, but 
 found himself stiff in the joints, and with a pain in bis 
 back. The mat that hung at the opening of Helen's 
 cave was not removed as usual. She was on her bed with 
 a violent headache. 
 
 Hazel fed Ponto, and corrected him. He was at 
 present a civilized dog ; so he made a weak rush at the 
 boobies and noddies directly. 
 
 He also smelt Tommy inquisitively, to learn was he 
 an eatable. Tommy somehow divined the end of this 
 sinister curiosity, and showed his teeth. 
 
 Then Hazel got a rope, and tied one end round his own 
 waist, and one round Ponto's neck, and at every outbreak 
 of civilization, jerked him sharply on to his back. The 
 effect of this discipline was rapid ; Ponto soon found 
 that he must not make war on the inhabitants of the 
 island. He was a docile animal, and, in a very short 
 time, consented to make one of "the happy family," as 
 Hazel called the miscellaneous crew that beset him. 
 
 Helen and Hazel did not meet till past noon ; and, 
 when they did meet, it was plain she had been thinking 
 a great deal, for her greeting was so shy and restrained 
 as to appear cold and distant to Hazel. He thought to 
 himself, I was too happy yesterday, and she too kind. 
 Of course it could not last. 
 
 This change in her seemed to grow rather than dimin- 
 
308 FOTJIi PliAT. 
 
 ish. She carried it so far as to go and almost hide 
 during the working hours. She made off to the jungle, 
 and spent an unreasonable time there. She professed 
 to be collecting cotton, and it must be admitted she 
 brought a good deal home with her. But Hazel could 
 not accept cotton as the only motive for this sudden 
 separation. 
 
 He lost the light of her face till the evening. Then 
 matters took another turn: she was too polite. Cere- 
 mony and courtesy appeared to be gradually encroaching 
 upon tender friendship and familiarity; yet, now and 
 then, her soft hazel eyes seemed to turn on him in 
 silence, and say, Forgive me all this. Then at those 
 sweet looks, love and forgiveness poured out of his 
 eyes. And then hers sought the ground. And this 
 was generally followed by a certain mixture of stiffness, 
 timidity, and formality, too subtle to describe. 
 
 The much-enduring man began to lose patience. 
 
 "This is caprice," said he. "Cruel caprice." 
 
 Our female readers will probably take a deeper view 
 of it than that ! Whatever it was, another change was 
 at hand. Since he was so exposed to the weather on the 
 reef. Hazel had never been free from pain ; but he had done 
 his best to work it off. He had collected all the valuables 
 from the wreck, made a new mast, set up a rude capstan 
 to draw the boat ashore, and cut a little dock for her at 
 low water, and clayed it in the full heat of the sun ; and, 
 having accomplished this drudgery, he got at last to his 
 labor of love ; he opened a quantity of pearl oysters, fed 
 Tommy and the duck with them, and began the great 
 work of lining the cavern with them. The said cavern 
 was somewhat shell-shaped, and his idea was to make it 
 out of a gloomy cavern into a vast shell, lined entirely, 
 roof and sides, with glorious, sweet, prismatic, mother- 
 of-pearl, fresh from ocean. Well, one morning, while 
 
JPOXSh PliAT. 309 
 
 Helen was in the jnngle, he made a cement of goano, 
 sand, chiy, and water, nipped some shells to a shape with 
 the pincers, and cemented them neatly, like mosaic 
 almost ; but in the middle of his work he was cut down 
 by the disorder he had combated so stoutly. He fairly 
 gave in, and sat down growling with pain. And in this 
 state Helen found him. 
 
 " Oh, what is the matter ? " said she. 
 
 He told her the truth, and said he had violent pains in 
 the back and head. She did not say much, but she 
 turned pale. She bustled and lighted a great fire, and 
 made him lie down by it. She propped his head up; 
 she set water on to boil for him, and would not let him 
 move for anything ; and all the time her features were 
 brimful of the liveliest concern. He could not help 
 thinking how much better it was to be ill and in pain, 
 and have her so kind, than to be well, and see her cold 
 and distant. Towards evening he got better, or rather 
 he mistook an intermission for cure, and retired to his 
 boat; but she made him take her rug with him; and, 
 when he was gone, she could not sleep for anxiety ; and 
 it cut her to the heart to think how poorly he was 
 lodged, compared with her. 
 
 Of all the changes fate could bring, this she had never 
 dreamed of, that she should be so robust, and he should 
 be sick and in pain. 
 
 She passed an uneasy, restless night, and long before 
 morning she awoke for the sixth or seventh time, and 
 she awoke with a misgiving in her mind, and some sound 
 ringing in her ears. She listened and heard nothing; 
 but in a few minutes it began again. 
 
 It was Hazel talking, talking in a manner so fast, so 
 strange, so loud, that it made her blood run cold. It was 
 the voice of Hazel, but not his mind. 
 
 She drew near, and to her dismay, found him fever- 
 
310 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 stricken, and pouring out words with little sequence. 
 She came close to him and tried to soothe him, but he 
 answered her quite at random, and went on flinging out 
 the strangest things in stranger order. She trembled 
 and waited for a lull, hoping then to soothe him with 
 soft words and tones of tender pity. 
 
 " Dens and caves ! " he roared, answering an imaginary 
 detractor. " Well, never mind, love shall make that hole 
 in the rock a palace for a queen; for a queen? For 
 the queen." Here he suddenly changed characters and 
 fancied he was interpreting the discourse of another. 
 " He means the Queen of the Fairies," said he, patron- 
 izingly: then, resuming his own character with loud 
 defiance, " I say her chamber shall outshine the glories 
 of the Alhambra, as far as the lilies outshone the 
 artificial glories of King Solomon. Oh, mighty Nature, 
 let others rely on the painter, the gold-beater, the carver 
 of marble, come you and help me adorn the temple of 
 my beloved. Amen." 
 
 (The poor soul thought, by the sound of his own words, 
 it must be a prayer he had uttered.) 
 
 And now Helen, with streaming eyes, tried to put in a 
 word, but he stopped her with a wild Hush ! and went 
 off into a series of mysterious whisperings. " Make no 
 noise, please, or we shall frighten her. There — that is 
 her window — no noise, please ! I've watched and waited 
 four hours, just to see her sweet, darling shadow on the 
 blinds, and shall I lose it for your small talk ? all 
 paradoxes and platitudes : excuse my plain speaking — 
 Hush! here it comes — her shadow — hush — how my 
 heart beats. It is gone. — So now" (speaking out) 
 " good-night, base world ! Do you hear ? you company of 
 liars, thieves, and traitors, called the world, go and sleep 
 if you can. I shall sleep: because my conscience is 
 clear. False accusations I Who can help them ? They 
 
FOtrCi PLAY. 311 
 
 are the act of others. Eead of Job, and Paul, and Joan 
 of Arc. No, no, no, no ; I didn't say read 'em out with 
 those stentorian lungs. I must be allowed a little sleep, 
 a man that wastes the midnight oil, yet brushes the 
 early dew. Good-night." 
 
 He turned round and slept for several hours as he 
 supposed; but in reality he was silent for just three 
 seconds. " Well," said he, " and is a gardener a man to be 
 looked down upon by upstarts ? When Adam delved and 
 Eve span, where was then the gentleman ? Why, where 
 the spade was. Yet I went through the Heralds' College 
 and not one of our mushroom aristocracy ('bloated' I 
 object to; they don't eat half as much as their foot- 
 men) had a spade for a crest. There's nothing ancient 
 west of the Caspian. Well, all the better. For there's 
 no fool like an old fool. A spade's a spade for a' that, 
 an a' that, an a' that, an a' that, — an a' that, — an a' 
 that. Hallo ! Stop that man ; he's gone off on his cork 
 leg, of a' that, on a' that, — and it's my wish to be quiet. 
 Allow me respectfully to observe," said he, striking off 
 suddenly into an air of vast politeness, "that man 
 requires change. I've done a jolly good day's work 
 with the spade for this old Buffer, and now the intellect 
 claims its turn. The mind retires above the noisy world 
 to its Acropolis, and there discusses the great problem of 
 the day ; the Insular Enigma. To be or not to be, that 
 is the question, I believe. No, it is not. That is fully 
 discussed elsewhere. Hum! To diffuse — intelligence — 
 from a fixed island — over one hundred leagues of water. 
 
 "It's a stinger. But I can't complain.* I had read 
 Lempriere, and Smith, and Bryant, and mythology in 
 general ; yet I must go and fall in love with the Sphinx. 
 Men are so vain. Vanity whispered, She will set you a 
 light one ; Why is a cobbler like a king, for instance ? 
 She is not in love with you, ye fool, if you are with her. 
 
312 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 The liarder the riddle, the higher the compliment the 
 Sphinx pays you. That is the way all sensible men 
 look at it. She is not the Sphinx : she is an angel, and 
 I call her my Lady Caprice. Hate her for being Caprice ? 
 You incorrigible muddle head. Why, I love Caprice for 
 being her shadow. Poor impotent love that can't solve a 
 problem. The only one she ever set me. I've gone 
 about it like a fool. What is the use of putting up 
 little bits of telegraphs on the island ? I'll make a 
 kite a hundred feet high, get five miles of rope ready 
 against the next hurricane ; and then I'll rub it with 
 phosphorus and fly it. But what can I fasten it to? 
 K tree would hold it. Dunce ! To the island itself, 
 of course. And now go to Stantle, Magg, Milton, and 
 Copestake for one thousand yards of silk — Money! 
 ■money ! money ! Well, give them a mortgage on the 
 island and a draft on the galleon. Now stop the pitch 
 fountain, and bore a hole near it ; fill fifty balloons with 
 gas, inscribe them with the latitude and longitude, fly 
 them, and bring all the world about ouj ears. 
 
 "The problem is solved. It is solved, and I am 
 destroyed. She leaves me ; she thinks no more of me. 
 Her heart is in England," 
 
 Then he muttered for a long time unintelligibly ; and 
 Helen ventured near, and actually laid her hand on his 
 brow to soothe him. But suddenly his muttering ceased, 
 and he seemed to be puzzling hard -over something. 
 
 The result came out in a clear articulate sentence, 
 that made Helen recoil, and holding by the mast, cast 
 an indescribable look of wonder and dismay on the 
 speaker. 
 
 The words that so staggered her were these, to the 
 letter : 
 
 " She says she hates reptiles. Yet she marries Arthur 
 Wardlaw." 
 
FOITL PLAY. 313 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 The Tery name of Arthur Wardlaw startled Helen, 
 and made her realize how completely her thoughts had 
 been occupied with another. 
 
 But add to that the strange and bitter epigram ! Or 
 was it a mere fortuitous concourge of words ? 
 
 She was startled, amazed, confounded, puzzled. And, 
 ere she could recover her composure. Hazel was back to 
 his problem again : but no longer with the same energy. 
 He said in a faint and sleepy voice : " ' He maketh the 
 winds His messengers, and flames of fire His ministers.' 
 Ah! if I could do that! Well, why not? I can do 
 anything she bids me — 
 
 ' Graeculus esuriens coelum jusseris ibit.' " 
 
 And soon after this doughty declaration he dozed off, 
 and forgot all his troubles for awhile. 
 
 The sun rose, and still he slept, and Helen watched 
 him with undisguised tenderness in her face; undis- 
 guised now that he could not see it. 
 
 Ere long she had companions in her care. Ponto came 
 out of his den, and sniffed about the boat; and then 
 began to scratch it, and whimper for his friend. Tommy 
 swam out of the sea, came to the boat, discovered. 
 Heaven knows how, that his friend was there : and, in 
 the way of noises, did everything but speak. The sea- 
 birds followed and fluttered here and there in their 
 erratic way, with now and then a peck at each other. 
 All animated nature seemed to be uneasy at this eclipse 
 of their Hazel. 
 
314 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 At last Tommy raised himself quite perpendicular, in 
 a vain endeavor to look into the boat, and invented a 
 whine in the minor key, which tells on dogs: it set 
 Ponto off in a moment ; he sat upon his tail, and deliv- 
 ered a long and most deplorable howl. 
 
 " Everything loves him," thought Helen. 
 
 With Ponto's music Hazel awoke, and found her 
 watching him ; he said, softly : " Miss RoUeston ! There 
 is nothing the matter, I hope. Why am I not up and 
 getting things for your breakfast ? " 
 
 "Dear friend," said she, "why you are not doing 
 things for me and forgetting yourself, as usual, is 
 because you have been very ill. And I am your nurse. 
 Now tell me what I shall get you. Is there nothing 
 you could fancy ? " 
 
 No ; he had no appetite ; she was not to trouble about 
 him. And then he tried to get up ; but that gave Mm 
 such a pain in his loins, he was fain to lie down again. 
 So then he felt that he had got rheumatic fever. He 
 told her so ; but seeing her sweet, anxious face, begged 
 her not to be alarmed — he knew what to take for it. 
 Would she be kind enough to go to his arsenal and fetch 
 some specimens of^ bark she would find there, and also 
 the keg of rum ? She flew at the word, and soon made 
 him an infusion of the barks in boiling water ; to which 
 the rum was added. His sweet nurse administered this 
 from time to time. The barks used were of the cassia 
 tree, and a wild citron tree. Cinchona did not exist in 
 this island, unfortunately. But with these inferior barks 
 they held the fever in check. Still the pain was obsti- 
 nate, and cost Helen many a sigh ; for if she came softly, 
 she could often hear him moan ; and the moment he 
 heard her foot, he set to and whistled for a blind ; with 
 what success may be imagined. She would have bought 
 those pains, or a portion of them ; ay, and paid a heavy 
 price for them. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 316 
 
 But pain, like everything, intermits, and in those 
 blessed intervals his mind was more active than ever, 
 and ran a great deal upon what he called the Problem. 
 
 But she, who had set it him, gave him little encourage- 
 ment now to puzzle over it. 
 
 The following may serve as a specimen of their con- 
 versation on that head. 
 
 " The air of this island," said he, " gives one a sort of 
 vague sense of mental power. It leads to no result in 
 my case ; still it is an agreeable sensation to have it 
 floating across my mind that some day I shall solve the 
 Great Problem. Ah ! if I was only an inventor ! " 
 
 ''And so you are." 
 
 " No, no," said Hazel, disclaiming as earnestly as some 
 people claim ; " I do things that look like acts of inven- 
 tion, but they are acts of memory. I could show you 
 plates and engravings of all the things I have seemed to 
 invent. A man who studies books instead of skimming 
 them, can cut a dash in a desert island, until the fatal 
 word goes forth — invent ; and then you find him out." 
 
 " I am sure I wish I had never said the fatal Word. 
 You will never get well if you puzzle your brain over 
 impossibilities." 
 
 " Impossibilities ! But is not that begging the ques- 
 tion ? The measure of impossibilities is lost in the 
 present age. I propose a test. Let us go back a century, 
 and suppose that three problems were laid before the 
 men of that day, and they were asked to decide which is 
 the most impossible : 1st, to diffuse intelligence from a 
 fixed island over a hundred leagues of water: 2d, to 
 make the sun take in thirty seconds likenesses more 
 exact than any portrait-painter ever took — likenesses 
 that can be sold for a shilling at fifty per cent profit : 
 3d, for New York and London to exchange words by 
 wire so much faster than the earth can turn, that London 
 
316 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 shall tell Few York at ten on Monday morning what 
 was the price of consols at one o'clock Monday after- 
 noon." 
 
 " That is a story," said Helen, with a look of angelic 
 reproach. 
 
 " I accept that reply," said Hazel. "As for me, I have 
 got a smattering of so many subjects, all full of incredi- 
 ble truths, that my faith in the impossibility of anything 
 is gone. Ah ! if James Watt was only here instead of 
 John Hazel — James Watt from the Abbey, with a head 
 as big as a pumpkin — he would not hare gone groping 
 about the island, writing on rocks, and erecting signals. 
 No ; he would have had some grand and bold idea worthy 
 of the proposition." 
 
 " Well, so I think," said Helen, archly : " that great 
 man with a great head would have begun — by making 
 a kite a hundred yards high." 
 
 "Would he ? Well, he was quite capable." 
 
 " Yes ; and rubbed it with phosphorus, and flown it in 
 the first tempest, and made the string fast to — the island 
 itself." 
 
 " Well, that is an idea," said Hazel, staring ; " rather 
 hyperbolical, I fear. But after all, it is an idea." 
 
 " Or else," continued Helen, " he would weave a thou- 
 sand yards of some light fabric, and make balloons ; then 
 he would stop the pitch-fountain, bore a hole in the rock 
 near it, and so get the gas, fill the balloons, inscribe 
 them with our sad story, and our latitude and longitude, 
 and send them flying all over the ocean — there!" 
 
 Hazel was amazed. 
 
 "I resign my functions to you," said he. "What 
 imagination ! What invention ! " 
 
 " Oh, dear, no," said Helen, slyly ; " acts of memory 
 sometimes pass for invention, you know. Shall I tell 
 you? When first you fell ill, you were rather light- 
 
FOUIi PLAT. 317 
 
 headed, and uttered the strangest things. They would 
 have made me laugh heartily, only I couldn't — for 
 crying. And you Said that about kites and balloons, 
 every vrord." 
 
 " Did I ? Then I have most brains when I have least 
 reason." 
 
 "Ay," said Helen, "and other strange things — very 
 strange and bitter things. One I should like to ask you 
 about, what on earth you could mean by it ; but perhaps 
 you meant nothing, after all." 
 
 "I'll soon tell you," said Hazel; but he took the 
 precaution to add, "Provided I know what it means 
 myself." 
 
 She looked at him, steadily, and was on the point of 
 seeking the explanation so boldly offered ; but her own 
 courage failed her. She colored and hesitated. 
 
 "I shall wait," said she, "till you are quite, quite 
 well. That will be soon, I hope ; only you must be' good 
 and obey my prescriptions. Cultivate patience ; it is a 
 wholesome plant ; bow the pride of that intellect, which 
 you see a fever can lay low in an hour ; aspire no more 
 beyond the powers of man. Here we shall stay, unless 
 Providence sends us a ship. I have ceased to repine, 
 and don't you begin. Dismiss that problem altogether ; 
 see how hot it has made your poor brow. Be good now, 
 and dismiss it ; or else do as I do — fold it up, put it 
 quietly away in a comer of your mind, and, when you 
 least expect, it will pop out solved." 
 
 (Oh, comfortable doctrine! But how about Jamie 
 Watfs headaches? And why are the signs of hard 
 thought so much stronger in his brow and face than in 
 Shakespeare's ? Mercy on us, there is another problem.) 
 
 Hazel smiled, well pleased, and leaned back, soothed, 
 silenced, subdued, by her soft voice, and the exquisite 
 touch of her velvet hand on his hot brow ; for, woman- 
 
318 POtIL PLAT. 
 
 like, she laid her hand like down on that burning brow 
 to aid her words in soothing it. Nor did it occur to him 
 just then that this admonition delivered with a kind 
 maternal hand, maternal voice, came from the same 
 young lady who had flown at him like a wildcat with 
 this very problem in her mouth. She mesmerized him, 
 problem and all ; he subsided into a complacent languor, 
 and at last went to sleep, thinking only of her. But the 
 topic had entered his mind too deeply to be finally dis- 
 missed. It returned next day, though in a different 
 form. You must know that Hazel, as he lay on his back 
 in the boat, had often, in a half-drowsy way, watched the 
 effect of the sun upon the boat's mast ; it now stood, a 
 bare pole, and at certain hours acted like the needle of a 
 dial, by casting a shadow on the sands. Above all, he 
 could see pretty well, by means of this pole and its 
 shadow, when the sun attained its greatest elevation. 
 He now asked Miss RoUeston to assist him in making 
 this observation exactly. 
 
 She obeyed his instructions, and the moment the 
 shadow reached its highest angle, and showed the 
 minutest symptom of declension, she said, "Ifow," and 
 Hazel called out in a loud voice, — 
 
 "Noon!" 
 
 " And forty-nine minutes past eight at Sydney." said 
 Helen, holding out her chronometer ; for she had been 
 sharp enough to get it ready of her own accord. 
 
 Hazel looked at her and at the watch with amazement 
 and incredulity. 
 
 "What?" said he. "Impossible. You can't have 
 kept Sydney time all this while." 
 
 "And pray why not?" said Helen. "Have you for- 
 gotten that once somebody praised me for keeping Sydney 
 time ; -it helped you, somehow or other, to know where 
 we were ? " 
 
rOUL PLAY. 319 
 
 " And so it will now," cried Hazel, exultingly. " But 
 no ! it is impossible. "We have gone through scenes 
 that — You can't have wound that watch up without 
 missing a day." 
 
 " Indeed, but I have," said Helen. " Kot wind my 
 watch up! Why, if I was dying I should wind my 
 watch up. See, it requires no key ; a touch or two of 
 the fingers, and it is done. Oh, I am remarkably con- 
 stant in all my habits ; and this is an old friend I never 
 neglect. Do you remember that terrible night in the 
 boat, when neither of us expected to see the morning — 
 oh, how good and brave you were ! — well, I remember 
 winding it up that night. I kissed it, and bade it good- 
 by ; but I never dreamed of not winding it up because 
 I was going to be killed. What ! am I not to be praised 
 again, as I was on board ship ? Stingy ! can't afford to 
 praise one twice for the same thing." 
 
 "Praised!" cried Hazel, excitedly ; "worshipped, you 
 mean. Why, we have got the longitude by means of 
 your chronometer. It is wonderful ! It is providential I 
 It is the finger of Heaven ! Pen and ink, and let me 
 work it out." 
 
 In his excitement he got up without assistance, and 
 was soon busy calculating the longitude of Godsend Isle. 
 
320 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 "Theke," said he. "Now the latitude I must guess 
 at by certain combinations. In the first place the slight 
 variation in the length of the days. Then I must try 
 and make a rough calculation on the sun's parallax. 
 And then my botany will help me a little ; spices fur- 
 nish a clew; there are one or two that will not grow 
 outside the tropic. It was the longitude that beat me, 
 and now we have conquered it. Hurrah ! now I know 
 what to diffuse, and in what direction ; east south-east ; 
 the ducks have shown me that much. So there's the 
 first step towards the impossible problem." 
 
 " Very well," said Helen ; " and I am sure one step is 
 enough for one day. I forbid you the topic for twelve 
 hours at least. I detest it because it always makes your 
 poor head so hot." 
 
 " What on earth does that matter ? " said Hazel, 
 impetuously, and almost crossly. 
 
 "Come, come, come, sir," said Helen, authoritatively; 
 " it matters to me." 
 
 But when she saw that he could think of nothing else, 
 and that opposition irritated him, she had the tact and 
 good sense not to strain her authority, nor to irritate 
 her subject. 
 
 Hazel spliced a long, fine-pointed stick to the mast- 
 head, and set a plank painted white with guano at right 
 angles to the base of the mast ; and so whenever the sun 
 attained his meridian altitude, went into a difficult and 
 subtle calculation to arrive at the latitude, or as near it 
 as he could without proper instruments ; and he brooded 
 
rOUL PLAY. 321 
 
 and brooded over Hs discovery of the longitude, but 
 unfortunately be could not advance. In some problems 
 tbe first step once gained leads, or at least point's, to the 
 next; but to know whereabouts they were, and to let 
 others know it, were two difficulties heterogeneous and 
 distinct. 
 
 Having thought and thought till his head was dizzy ; 
 at last he took Helen's advice, and put it by for awhile. 
 He set himself to fit and number a quantity of pearl 
 oyster shells, so that he might be able to place them at 
 once, when he should be able to recommence his labor 
 of love in the cavern. 
 
 One day Helen had left him so employed, and was 
 busy cooking the dinner at her own place, but, niind 
 you, with one eye on the dinner and another on her 
 patient, when suddenly she heard him shouting very 
 loud, and ran out to see what was the matter. 
 
 He was roaring like mad, and whirling his arms over 
 his head like a demented windmilL 
 
 She ran to him. 
 
 " Eureka ! eureka ! " he shouted, in furious excitement. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " cried Helen, " never mind." She was 
 all against her patient exciting himself. 
 
 But he was exalted beyond even her control. " Crown 
 me with laurel," he cried ; " I have solved the problem : " 
 and up went his arms. 
 
 " Oh, is that all ? " said she, calmly. 
 
 "Get me two squares of my parchment," cried he; 
 " and some of the finest gut." 
 
 "WiU not after dinner do ? " 
 
 "No; certainly not," said Hazel, in a voice of com- 
 mand. " I wouldn't wait a moment for all the flesh-pots 
 of Egypt." 
 
 Then she went like the wind and fetched them. 
 
 "Oh, thank you ! thank you ! Now I want — let me 
 21 
 
322 FOUX PLAT. 
 
 see — ah, there's an old rusty hoop that -was washed 
 ashore, on one of that ship's casks. I put it carefully 
 away ; how the unlikeliest things come in useful soon or 
 late ! " 
 
 She went for the hoop, hut not so rapidly, for here it 
 was that the first faint doubt of his sanity came in. 
 However, she brought it, and he thanked her. 
 
 " And now," said he. " while I prepare the intelligence, 
 will you be so kind as to fetch me the rushes." 
 
 " The what ? " said Helen, in growing dismay. 
 
 " The rushes ! I'll tell you where to find some." 
 
 Helen thought the best thing was to temporize. Per- 
 haps he would be better after eating some wholesome 
 food. " I'll fetch them directly after dinner," said she. 
 "But it will be spoiled if I leave it for long ; and I do 
 so want it to be nice for you to-day." 
 
 "Dinner ? " cried HazeL "What do I care for dinner 
 now ? I am solving my problem. I'd rather go without 
 dinner for years than interrupt a great idea. Pray let 
 dinner take its chance, and obey me for once." 
 
 " For once ? " said Helen, and turned her mild hazel 
 eyes on him with such a look of gentle reproach. 
 
 " Forgive me ! But don't take me for a child, asking 
 you for a toy ; I am a poor crippled inventor, who sees 
 daylight. Oh, I am on fire ; and, if you want me not to 
 go into a fever, why, get me my rushes." 
 
 " Where shall I find them ? " said Helen, catching 
 fire at him. 
 
 " Go to where your old hut stood, and follow the river 
 about a furlong ; you will find a bed of high rushes : 
 cut me a good bundle, cut them below the water, choose 
 the stoutest. Here is a pair of shears I found in the 
 ship." 
 
 She took the shears and went swiftly across the sands 
 and up the slope. He watched her with an admixing 
 
FOUL PLAT. 323 
 
 eye ; and -well he might, for it was the very poetry of 
 motion. Hazel in his hours of health had almost given 
 up walking ; he ran from point to point, without fatigue 
 or shortness of breath. Helen, equally pressed for time, 
 did not run; but she went almost as fast. By rising 
 with the dawn, by three meals a day of animal food, by 
 constant work, and heavenly air, she was in a condition 
 women rarely attain to. She was trained. Ten miles 
 was no more to her than ten yards. And, when she was 
 in a hurry, she got over the ground by a grand but femi- 
 nine motion not easy to describe. It was a series of 
 smooth undulations, not vulgar strides, but swift rushes, 
 in which the loins seemed to propel the whole body, and 
 the feet scarcely to touch the ground : it was the vigor 
 and freedom of a savage, with the grace of a lady. 
 
 And so it was she swept across the sands and up the 
 slope, 
 
 £t vera incessu pafcuit Dea. 
 
 While she was gone. Hazel cut two little squares of 
 seals' bladder, one larger than the other. On the smaller 
 he wrote : " An English lady wrecked on an island. 
 W. longitude 103 deg. 30 min. S. latitude between the 
 33d and 26th parallels. Haste to her rescue." Then he 
 folded this small, and enclosed it in the larger slip, 
 which he made into a little bag, and tied the neck 
 extremely tight with fine gut, leaving a long piece of 
 the gut free. 
 
 And now Helen came gliding back, as she went, and 
 brought biTti a large bundle of rushes. 
 
 Then he asked her to help him fasten these rushes 
 round the iron hoop. 
 
 " It must not be done too regularly," said he ; " but so 
 as to look as much like a little bed of rushes as possible." 
 
 Helen was puzzled still, but interested. So she set to 
 
S24 FOUIi PLAY. 
 
 work, and, between them, they fastened rushes all round 
 the hoop, although it was a large one. 
 
 But, when it was done. Hazel said they were too bare. 
 
 " Then we will fasten another row," said Helen, good- 
 humoredly. And without more ado, she was off to the 
 river again. 
 
 When she came back, she found him up, and he said 
 the great excitement had cured him — such power has 
 the brain over the body. This convinced her he had 
 really hit upon some great idea. And, when she had 
 made him eat his dinner by her fiie, she asked him to 
 tell her all about it. 
 
 But, by a natural reaction, the glorious and glowing 
 excitement of mind, that had battled his very rheumatic 
 pains, was now followed by doubt and dejection. 
 
 " Don't ask me yet," he sighed. " Theory is one thing ; 
 practice is another. We count without our antagonists ; 
 I forgot they will set their wits against mine : and they 
 are many, I am but one. And I have been so often 
 defeated. And, do you know, I have observed that 
 whenever I say beforehand, now I am going to do some- 
 thing clever, I am always defeated. Pride reaUy goes 
 before destruction, and vanity before a fall." 
 
 The female mind, rejecting all else, went like a needle's 
 point at one tiling in this explanation. "Our antago- ' 
 nists ? why, what antagonists have we ? " 
 
 "The messengers," said Hazel, with a groan. "The 
 aerial messengers." 
 
 That did the business. Helen dropped the subject 
 with almost ludicrous haste ; and, after a few common- 
 place observations, made a nice comfortable dose of grog 
 and bark for him. This she administered as an inde- 
 pendent transaction, and not at all by way of comment 
 on his antagonists, the aerial messengers. 
 
 It operated unkindly for her purpose : it did him so 
 
FOUL PLAY. 325 
 
 much good, that he lifted up his dejected head, and his 
 eyes sparkled again, and he set to work, and, by sunset, 
 prepared two more bags of bladder with inscriptions 
 inside, and long tails of fine gut hanging. . He then set 
 to work, and, with fingers far less adioit than hers, fas- 
 tened another set of rushes round the hoop. He set 
 them less evenly, and some of them not quite perpen- 
 dicular; and, while he was fumbling over this, and ex- 
 amining the effect with paternal glances, Helen's hazel 
 eye dwelt on him with furtive pity; for, to her, this 
 girdle of rushes was now an instrument that bore an 
 ugly likeness to the sceptre of straw, with which vanity 
 run to seed sways imaginary kingdoms in Bedlam or 
 Bicetre. 
 
 And yet he was better. He walked about the cavern 
 and conversed charmingly ; he was dictionary, essayist, 
 raconteur, anything she liked; and, as she prudently 
 avoided and ignored the one fatal topic, it was a delight- 
 ful evening : her fingers were as busy as his tongue : and, 
 when he retired, she presented him the fruits of a fort- 
 night's work, a glorious wrapper made of fleecy cotton 
 enclosed in a plaited web of flexible and silky grasses. 
 He thanked her, and blessed her, and retired for the 
 night. 
 
 About midnight she awoke and felt uneasy: so she 
 did what since his illness she had done a score of times 
 without his knowledge, she stole from her lair to watch 
 him. 
 
 She foimd him wrapped in her present, which gave 
 her great pleasure ; and sleeping like an infant, which 
 gave her joy. She eyed him eloquently for a long time ; 
 and then very timidly put out her hand, and, ia her qual- 
 ity of nurse, laid it lighter than down upon his brow. 
 
 The brow was cool, and a very slight moisture on it 
 showed the fever was going, or gone. 
 
326 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 She folded her arms and stood looking at him ; and she 
 thought of all they two had done and suffered together. 
 Her eyes absorbed him, devoured him. The time flew 
 by unheeded. It was so sweet to be able to set her face 
 free from its restraint, and let all its sunshine beam on 
 him: and even when she retired at last, those light 
 hazel eyes, that could flash fire at times, but were all 
 dove-like now, hung and lingered on him as if they 
 could never look at him enough. 
 
 Half an hour before daybreak she was awakened by 
 the dog howling piteously. She felt a little uneasy at 
 that : not much. However she got up, and issued from 
 her cavern, just as the sun showed his red eye above the 
 horizon. She went towards the boat as a matter of 
 course. She found Ponto tied to the helm: the boat 
 was empty, and Hazel nowhere to be seen. 
 
 She uttered a scream of dismay. 
 
 The dog howled and whined louder than ever. 
 
EX>UL PLAY. 327 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVni. 
 
 Waedlaw senior was not what yon would call a 
 tender-hearted man: but he was thoroughly moved by 
 General Eolleston's distress, and by his fortitude. The 
 gallant old man! Landing in England one week, and 
 going back to the Pacific the next ! Like goes with 
 like; and Wardlaw senior, energetic and resolute him- 
 self, though he felt for his son, stricken down by grief, 
 gave his heart to the more valiant distress of his con- 
 temporary. He manned and victualled the Springbok 
 for a long voyage, ordered her to Plymouth, and took his 
 friend down to her by train. 
 
 They went out to her in a boat. She was a screw 
 steamer, that could sail nine knots an hour without 
 burning a coal. As she came down the Channel, the 
 general's trouble got to be well known on board her, 
 and, when he came out of the harbor, the sailors by an 
 honest, hearty impulse, that did them credit, waited for 
 no orders, but manned the yards to receive him with the 
 respect due to his services and his sacred calamity. 
 
 On getting on board, he saluted the captain and the 
 ship's company with sad dignity, and retired to his cabin 
 with Mr. Wardlaw. There the old merchant forced on 
 him by way of loan seven hundred pounds, chiefly in gold 
 and silver, telling him there was nothing like money, go 
 where you will. He then gave him a number of notices 
 he had printed, and a paper of advice and instructions : 
 it was written in his own large, clear, formal hand. 
 
 General RoUeston tried to falter out his thanks. John 
 Wardlaw interrupted him. 
 
328 POITL PLAY. 
 
 "Next to you I am her father ; am I not ? " 
 
 " You have proved it." 
 
 "Well, then. However, if you do find her, as I pray 
 to God you may, I claim the second kiss, mind that : not 
 for myself, though ; for my poor Arthur, that lies on a 
 sick-bed for her." 
 
 General EoUeston assented to that in a broken voice. 
 He could hardly speak. 
 
 And so they parted : and that sad parent went out to 
 the Pacific. 
 
 To him it was indeed a sad and gloomy voyage ; and 
 the hope with which he went on board oozed gradually 
 away as the ship traversed the vast tracts of ocean. 
 One immensity of water to be passed before that other 
 immensity could be reached, on whose vast, uniform sur- 
 face the search was to be made. 
 
 To abridge this gloomy and monotonous part of our 
 tale, suffice it to say that he endured two months of 
 water and infinity ere the vessel, fast as she was, 
 reached Valparaiso. Their progress, however, had been 
 more than once interrupted to carry out Wardlaw's in- 
 structions.^ The poor general himself had but one idea ; 
 to go and search the Pacific with his own eyes; but 
 Wardlaw, more experienced, directed him to overhaul 
 every whaler and coasting vessel he could, and deliver 
 printed notices ; telling the sad story, and offering a 
 reward for any positive information, good or bad, that 
 should be brought in to his agent at Valparaiso. Acting 
 on these instructions they had overhauled two or three 
 coasting vessels as they steamed up from the Horn. 
 They now placarded the port of Valparaiso, and put the 
 notices on board all vessels bound westward ; and the 
 captain of the Springbok spoke to the skippers in the 
 port. But they all shook their heads, and could hardly 
 be got to give their minds seriously to the inquiry when 
 
POTTL PLAY. 329 
 
 they heaxd in what water the cutter was last seen, and on 
 what course. 
 
 One old skipper said, " Look on Juan Fernandez, and 
 then at the bottom of the Pacific; but the sooner you 
 look there the less time you will lose." 
 
 T^om Valparaiso they ran to Juan Fernandez, which 
 indeed seemed the likeliest place, if she was alive. 
 
 When the larger island of that group, the island dear 
 alike to you who read, and to us who write, this tale, 
 came in sight, the father's heart began to beat higher. 
 
 The ship anchored and took in coal, which was fur- 
 nished at a wickedly high price by Mr. Joshua Fullalove, 
 who had virtually purchased the island from Chili, having 
 got it on lease for longer than the earth itself is to last, 
 we hear. 
 
 And now Eolieston found the value of Wardlaw's loan ; 
 it enabled him to prosecute his search through the whole 
 group of islands ; and he did hear at last of three persons, 
 who had been wrecked on Masa Fuero, one of them a 
 female. He followed this up, and at last discovered the 
 parties. He found them to be Spaniards, and the woman 
 smoking a pipe. 
 
 After this bitter disappointment he went back to the 
 ship, and she was to weigh her anchor next morning. 
 
 But while General Eolieston was at Masa Fuero, a 
 small coasting vessel had come in, and brought a strange 
 report at second-hand, that in some degree unsettled 
 Captain Moreland's mind, and, being hotly discussed on 
 the forecastle, set the ship's company in a ferment. 
 
330 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIX. 
 
 Hazel tad risen an hour before dawn, for reasons well 
 known to himself. He put on his worst clothes, and a 
 leathern belt, his little bags round his neck, and took his 
 bundle of rushes in his hand. He also provided himself 
 with some pieces of raw fish and fresh oyster ; and, thus 
 equipped, went up through Terrapin Wood, and got to 
 the neighborhood of the lagoons before daybreak. 
 
 There was a heavy steam on the water, and nothing 
 else to be seen. He put the hoop over his head and 
 walked into the water, not without an internal shudder, 
 it looked so cold. 
 
 But, instead of that, it was very warm, unaccountably 
 warm. He walked in up to his middle and tied his iron 
 hoop to his belt, so as to prevent it sinking too deep. 
 This done, he waited motionless, and seemed a little bed 
 of rushes. The sun rose, and the steam gradually cleared 
 away, and Hazel, peering through a hole or two he had 
 made expressly in his bed of rushes, saw several ducks 
 floating about, and one in particular, all purple, without 
 a speck but his amber eye. He contrived to detach a 
 piece of fish, that soon floated to the surface near him. 
 But no duck moved towards it. He tried another, and 
 another ; then a mallard he had not observed swam up 
 from behind him, and was soon busy pecking at it within 
 a yard of him. His heart beat; he glided slowly and 
 cautiously forward till the bird was close to the rushes. 
 
 Hazel stretched out his hand with the utmost care, 
 caught hold of the bird's feet, and dragged him sharply 
 under the water, and brought him up within the circle 
 
POXJii PIAT. 331 
 
 of the rushes. He quacked and struggled. Hazel soused 
 him under directly, and so quenched the sound ; then he 
 glided slowly to the bank, so slowly that the rushes 
 merely seemed to drift ashore. This he did, not to create 
 suspicion, and so spoil the next attempt. As he glided, 
 he gave his duck air every now and then, and soon got 
 on terra firma. By this time he had taught the duck 
 not to quack, or he would get soused and held under. 
 He now took the long gut-end and tied it tight round 
 the bird's leg, and so fastened the bag to him. Even 
 while he was effecting this, a posse of ducks rose at the 
 west end of the marsh, and took their flight from the 
 island. As they passed Hazel threw his captive up in 
 the air ; and such was the force of example, aided, per- 
 haps, by the fright the captive had received, that Hazel's 
 bird instantly joined these travellers, rose with them into 
 the high currents, and away, bearing the news eastward 
 upon the wings of the wind. Then Hazel returned to 
 the pool, and twice more he was so fortunate as to secure 
 a bird, and launch him into space. 
 
 So hard is it to measure the wit of man, and to define 
 his resources. The problem was solved; the aerial 
 messengers were on the wing, diffusing over hundreds 
 of leagues of water the intelligence that an English lady 
 had been wrecked on an unknown island, in longitude 
 103° 30' west, and between the 33d and 26th parallels of 
 south latitude; and calling good men and ships to her 
 rescue for the love of God. 
 
332 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 CHAPTEE XL. 
 
 And now for the strange report that landed at Juan 
 Fernandez while General Eolleston was searching Masa 
 Fuero. 
 
 The coaster, who brought it ashore, had been in com- 
 pany, at Valparaiso, with a whaler from Nantucket, who 
 told him he had fallen in with a Dutch whaler out at 
 sea, and distressed for water ; he had supplied the said 
 Dutchman, who had thanked him, and given him a run- 
 let of Hollands, and had told him in conversation that 
 he had seen land and a river reflected on the sky, in 
 waters where no land was marked on the chart; namely, 
 somewhere between Juan Fernandez and Norfolk Island ; 
 and that, believing this to be the reflection of a part of some 
 island near at hand, and his water being low, though not 
 at that time run out, he had gone considerably out of his 
 course in hopes of finding this watered island, but could 
 see nothing of it. Nevertheless, as his grandfather, who 
 had been sixty years at sea, and logged many wonderful 
 things, had told him the sky had been known to reflect 
 both ships and land at a great distance, he fully believed 
 there was an island somewhere in that longitude, not 
 down on any chart : an island wooded and watered. 
 
 This tale soon boarded the Springbok, and was hotly 
 discussed on the forecastle. It came to Captain More- 
 land's ears, and he examined the skipper of the coasting 
 smack. But this examination elicited nothing new, inas- 
 much as the skipper had the tale only at third-hand. 
 Captain Moreland, however, communicated it to General 
 Eolleston on his arrival, and asked him whether he 
 
FOITL PLAY. 333 
 
 thouglit it worth -while to deviate from their instructions' 
 upon information of such a character. RoUeston shdok- 
 his head. "An island reflected in the sky ! " 
 
 " Ko, sir : a portion of an island containing a river." 
 
 " It is clearly a fable," said Eolleston, with a sigh. 
 
 "What is a fable, general ? " 
 
 " That the sky can reflect terrestrial objects." 
 
 " Oh, there I can't go with you. The phenomenon is 
 rare, but it is well established. Suppose we catechise 
 the forecastle. Hy ! Fok'sel ! " 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 " Send a man aft : the oldest seaman aboard." 
 
 "A.y, ay, sir." 
 
 There was some little delay ; and then a sailor of about 
 sixty slouched aft, made a sea scrape, and, removing his 
 cap entirely, awaited the captain's commands. 
 
 " My man," said the captain, " I want you to answer a 
 question. Do you believe land and ships have ever been 
 seen in the sky, reflected ? " 
 
 "A many good seamen holds to that, sir," said the 
 sailor cautiously. 
 
 " Is it the general opinion of seamen before the mast ? 
 Come, tell us. Jack's as good as his master in these 
 matters." 
 
 " Couldn't say for boys and lubbers, sir. But I never 
 met a full-grown seaman as denied that there. Sartainly 
 few has seen it ; but all of 'em has seen them as has seen 
 it ; ships, and land, too, but mostly ships. Hows'ever, I 
 had a messmate once as was sailing past a'rock they called 
 Ailsa Craig, and saw a regiment of soldiers marching in 
 the sky. Logged it, did the mate; and them soldiers 
 was Brmarching between two towns in Ireland at that 
 very time." 
 
 " There, you See, General," said Captain Moreland. 
 
 "But this is all second-hand," said General Eolleston, 
 
334 rOTJL PLAY. 
 
 with a sigh ; " and I have learned how everything gets 
 distorted in passing from one to another." 
 
 "Ah," said the captain, "we can't help that; the thing 
 is rare. I never saw it for one ; and I suppose you never 
 saw a phenomenon of the kind, Isaac ? " 
 
 " Han't I ! " said Isaac grimly. Then, with sudden and 
 
 not very reasonable heat, "D my eyes and limbs if I 
 
 han't seen the Peak o' Teneriffe in the sky topsy turvy, 
 and as plain as I see that there cloud there " (pointing 
 upwards). 
 
 " Come," said Moreland ; " now we are getting to it. 
 Tell us all about that." 
 
 "Well, sir," said the seaman, "I don't care to larn 
 them as laughs at everything they han't seen in may-be 
 a dozen voyages at most ; but you knows me, and I knows 
 you ; though you command the ship, and I work before 
 the mast. Now I axes you, sir, should you say Isaac 
 Aiken was the man to take a sugar-loaf, or a cocked-hat, 
 for the Peak o' Teneriffe ? " 
 
 "As little likely as I am myself, Isaac." 
 
 " No commander can say fairer nor that," said Isaac, 
 with dignity. " Well, then, your honor, I'll tell ye the 
 truth, and no lie : We was bound for Teneriffe with a 
 fair wind, though not so much of it as we wanted, by 
 reason she was a good searboat, but broad in the bows. 
 The Peak hove in sight in the sky, and all the glasses 
 was at her. She lay a point or two on our weather 
 quarter, full two hours, and then she just melted away 
 like a lump o' sugar. We kept on our course a day and 
 a half, and, at last, we sighted the real Peak, and anchored 
 off the port ; whereby, when we saw Teneriffe Peak in 
 the sky to winnard, she lay a hundred leagues to looard, 
 s'help me God." 
 
 " That is wonderful," said General Eolleston. 
 
 " That will do, Isaac," said the captain. " Mr. Butt, 
 
FOUIi PLAY. 335 
 
 double Ms grog for a week, for having seen more than I 
 have." 
 
 The captain and General EoUeston had a long dis- 
 cussion ; but the result was, they determined to go to 
 Easter Island first, for General EoUeston was a soldier, 
 and had learned to obey as well as command. He saw 
 no sufficient ground for deviating from Wardlaw's positive 
 instructions. 
 
 This decision soon became known throughout the 
 ship ; and she was to weigh anchor at eleven a.m. next 
 day, by high water. 
 
 At eight next morning. Captain Moreland and General 
 Bolleston being on deck, one of the ship's boys, a regular 
 pet, with rosy cheeks and black eyes, comes up to the 
 gentlemen, takes off his cap, and, panting audibly at his 
 own audacity, shoves a paper into General EoUeston's 
 hand, and scuds away for his life. 
 
 " This won't do," said the captain, sternly. 
 
 The high-bred soldier handed the paper to him un- 
 opened. 
 
 The captain opened it, looked a little vexed, but more 
 amused, and handed it back to the general. 
 
 It was a EouND Eobin. 
 
 Eound Eobins are not ingratiating as a rule. But this 
 one came from some rough but honest fellows, who had 
 already shown that kindliness and tact may reside in a 
 coarse envelope. The sailors of the Springbok, when 
 they first boarded her in the Thames, looked on them- 
 selves as men bound on an empty cruise: and nothing 
 but the pay, which was five shillings per month above 
 the average, reconciled them to it ; for a sailor does not 
 like going to sea for nothing, any more than a true 
 sportsman likes to ride to hounds that are hunting a red 
 herring trailed. 
 
 But the sight of the general i/ad touched them afar 
 
336 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 off. His gray hair and pale face, seen as he rowed out' 
 of Plymouth Harbor, had sent them to the yards by a 
 gallant impulse ; and all through the voyage the game 
 had been to put on an air of alacrity and hope, whenever 
 they passed the general or came under his eye. 
 
 >Y 
 
 % 
 
 •We who sigy» * 
 
 About- this itne^ 
 hope nana qffenoo and m«aR> none. 
 
 .F 
 
 W« think Eaater Island 
 
 but qf hor 
 
 ^<£^ courss.- Swsh of us 09 oarh he spared are 
 
 > nadj/ and willing , to take the otd cutter, that . Jjljfr ^ 
 lUa for sate, to East^t Islarui if nxeds be ; but to *^ 
 Waste the Steatner tt is a ^^tjf. We are all loffraed 
 2fSfJt ^ItyJ'^^ 0iitah ekfpper eaut land and water aloft 
 Mailing bet\veen Ji*an Pernandex and JTorfalh Isle, 
 and what a Q>iAtchjnan aan eeb on the eky we '^Hl. Sma*^ 
 think an Srifftiahman oan find it in tho sea, 
 God willinff: • Whermbjf we pray ' our goid 
 Oaptain to follow the Q>i*tahman'9 aourse 
 with a- good heart and a wilUng^arew. ^^. 
 
 And so say tue jJ^ 
 
 .1^' 
 
 |Sl 
 
 .i- 
 
 ""^ 
 
 ^^x 
 
 The "EoukdEobin." 
 
 If hypocrisy is always a crime, this was a very crimi- 
 nal ship ; for the men, and even the boys, were hypo- 
 crites, who, feeling CLuite sure that the daughter was 
 
FOUL PLAY. 337 
 
 dead at sea months ago, did, nevertheless, make up their 
 faces to encourage the father into thinking she was alive, 
 and he was going to find her. But people who pursue 
 this game too long, and keep up the hopes of another, 
 get infected at last themselves; and the crew of the 
 Springbok arrived at Valparaiso infected with a little 
 hope. Then came the Dutchman's tale, and the dis- 
 cussion, which ended adversely to their views ; and this 
 elicited the circular we have the honor to lay before our 
 readers. 
 
 General EoUeston and Captain Moreland returned to 
 the cabin and discussed this document. They came on 
 deck again, and the men were piped aft. General 
 Eolleston touched his cap, and with the Eound Eobin 
 in his hand, addressed them thus : — 
 
 " My men, I thank you for taking my trouble to heart 
 as you do. But it would be a bad return to send any of 
 you to Easter Island in that cutter : for she is not sea- 
 worthy : so the captain tells me. I will not consent to 
 throw away your lives in trying to save a life that is 
 dear to me : but, as to the Dutchman's story, about an 
 unknown island, our captain seems to think that is 
 possible ; and you tell us you are of the same opinion. 
 Well, then, I give up my own judgment, and yield to 
 yours. Yes, we will go westward with a good heart (he 
 sighed), and a willing crew." 
 
 The men cheered. The boatswain piped ; the anchor 
 was heaved, and the Springbok went out on a course that 
 bade fair to carry her within a hundred miles of Godsend 
 Island. 
 
 She ran fast. On the second day, some ducks passed 
 over her head, one of which was observed to have some- 
 thing attached to its leg. 
 
 She passed within sixty miles of Mount Lookout, but 
 22 
 
338 FOtTL PLAY. 
 
 never saw Godsend Island, and so pursued her way to 
 the Society Islands; sent out her boats; made every 
 inquiry around about the islands, but with no success ; 
 and, at last, after losing a couple of months there, brought 
 the heart-sick father back on much the same course, but 
 rather more northerly. 
 
FOTJL PLAT. 335) 
 
 CHAPTEE XLI. 
 
 Hazel returned homewards in a glow of triumph, and 
 for once felt disposed to brag to Helen of Ms victory, — 
 a victory by which she was to profit ; not he. 
 
 They met ia the wood ; for she had tracked him by 
 his footsteps. ' She seemed pale and disturbed, and 
 speedily interrupted his exclamations of triumph, by 
 one of delight, which was soon however followed by 
 one of distress. 
 
 " Oh, look at you ! " she said. " You have been in the 
 water : it is wicked ; wicked." 
 
 "But I have solved the problem. I caught three 
 ducks one after another, and tied the intelligence to 
 their legs : they are at this moment careering over the 
 ocean, with our story and our longitude, and a guess at 
 our latitude. Crown me with bays." 
 
 " With foolscap, more likely," said Helen : " only just 
 getting well of rheumatic fever, and to go and stand in 
 water up to the middle." 
 
 " Why, you dont listen to me," cried Hazel in amaze- 
 ment. " I tell you I have solved the problem." 
 
 " It is you that don't listen to common sense," retorted 
 Helen. " If you go and make yourself ill, all the prob- 
 lems in the world wiU not compensate me. And I must 
 say I think it was not very kind of you to run off so 
 without warning : why give me hours of anxiety for 
 want of a word ? But there, it is useless to argue with 
 a boy: yes, sir, a boy. The fact is, I have been too 
 easy with you of late. One indulges sick children. But 
 then tiiey must not slip away and stand in the water, or 
 
340 FOUIi PLAT. 
 
 there is an end of indulgence ; and one is driven to 
 severity. You must be ruled with a rod of iron. Go 
 home this moment, sir, and change your clothes ; and 
 don't you presume to come into the presence of the nurse 
 you have offended, till there's not a wet thread about 
 you." 
 
 And so she ordered him off. The inventor in his 
 moment of victory slunk away crestfallen to change his 
 clothes. 
 
 So far Helen EoUeston was a type of her sex in its 
 treatment of inventors. At breakfast she became a 
 brilliant exception. The moment she saw Hazel seated 
 by her fire in dry clothes she changed her key, and made 
 him relate the whole business, and expressed the warmest 
 admiration and sympathy. 
 
 " But," said she, " I do ask you not to repeat this 
 exploit too often ; now, don't do it again for a fortnight. 
 The island will not run away. Ducks come and go every 
 day, and your health is very, very precious." 
 
 He colored with pleasure, and made the promise at 
 once. But during this fortnight events occurred. In 
 the first place, he improved his invention. He remem- 
 bered how a duck, over-weighted by a crab which was 
 fast to her leg, had come on board the boat. Memory 
 dwelling on this and invention digesting it, he resolved 
 to weight his next batch of ducks ; for he argued thus : 
 " Probably our ducks go straight from this to the great 
 American Continent. Then it may be long ere one of 
 them falls into the hands of a man ; and perhaps that 
 man will not know English. But, if I could impede the 
 flight of my ducks, they might alight on ships : and 
 three ships out of four know English." 
 
 Accordingly, he now inserted stones of various sizes 
 into the little bags. It was a matter of nice calculation ; 
 the problem was to weight the birds just so much that 
 
JFOtTL PLAY. 341 
 
 they might be able to fly three or four hundred miles, or 
 about half as far as their imeiieumbered companions. 
 
 But in the midst of all this, a circumstance occurred 
 that would have made a vain man, or indeed most men, 
 fling the whole thing away. Helen and he came to a 
 rupture. It began by her fault, and continued by his. 
 She did not choose to know her own mind, and in spite 
 of secret warnings from her better judgment, she was 
 driven by curiosity or by the unhappy restlessness to 
 which her sex are peculiarly subject at odd times, to 
 sound Hazel as to the meaning of a certain epigram that 
 rankled in her. And she did it in the most feminine 
 way, that is to say, in the least direct : whereas the 
 safest way would have been to grasp the nettle, if she 
 could not let it alone. 
 
 Said she one day, quietly, though with a deep blush, 
 " Do you know Mr. Arthur Wardlaw ? " 
 
 Hazel gave a shiver, and said, " I do." 
 
 " Do you know anything about him ? " 
 
 "I do." 
 
 " Nothing to his discredit, I am sure." 
 
 "If you are sure, why ask me? Do I ever mention 
 his name ? " 
 
 "Perhaps you do, sometimes, without intending it." 
 
 " You are mistaken ; he is in your thoughts, no doubt, 
 but not in mine." 
 
 "Ought I to forget people entirely, and what I owe 
 them?" 
 
 " That is a question I decline to go into." 
 
 " How harshly you speak to me ! Is that fair ? You 
 know my engagement, and that honor and duty draw me 
 to England ; yet I am happy here. You, who are so good 
 and strong, might pity me at least ; for I am torn this 
 way and that ; " and here the voice ceased, and the tears 
 began to flow. 
 
342 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 " I do pity you," said Hazel ; " I must pity any one 
 who is obliged to mention honor and duty in the same 
 breath as Arthur Wardlaw." 
 
 At this time Helen drew back, offended bitterly. 
 "That pity I reject and scorn," said she. "No, I 
 plighted my faith with my eyes open, and to a worthy 
 object. I never knew him blacken any person who was 
 not there to speak for himself, and that is a very worthy 
 ■ trait, in my opinion. The absent are like children ; 
 they are helpless to defend themselves." 
 
 Hazel, racked with jealousy, and irritated at this 
 galling comparison, lost his temper for once, and said 
 those who lay traps must not complain if others fall into 
 them. 
 
 " Traps ! Who lays them ? " 
 
 " You did, Miss EoUeston. Did I ever condescend to 
 mention that man's name since we have been on the 
 island ? It is you make me talk of him." 
 
 " Condescend ? " 
 
 "That is the word. Nor will I ever deign to mention 
 him again. If my love had touched your heart, I should 
 have been obliged to mention him, for then I should 
 have been bound to tell you a story in which he is 
 mixed, my own miserable story — my blood boils against 
 the human race when I think of it. But no, I see I am 
 nothing to you ; and I will be silent." 
 
 "It is very cruel of you to say that," replied Helen, 
 with tears in her eyes; "tell me your story, and you 
 will see whether you are nothing to me." 
 
 "Not one word of it," said Hazel, slowly, "until you 
 have forgotten that that man exists." 
 
 " Oh ! thank you, sir, this is plain speaking. I am to 
 forget honor and plighted faith ; and then you will trust 
 me with your secrets, when I have shown myself un- 
 worthy to be trusted with anything. Keep your secrets, 
 
FOUli PLAT. 343 
 
 and I'll try and keep faith ; ay, and I shall keep it, too, 
 as long as there's life in my body." 
 
 "Can't you keep faith without torturing me, who love 
 you?" 
 
 Helen's bosom began to heave at this, but she fought 
 bravely. "Love me less, and respect me more," said 
 she, panting; "you affront me, you frighten me. I 
 looked on you as a brother, a dear brother. But now 
 I am afraid of you — I am afraid — " 
 
 He was so injudicious as to interrupt her. " You have 
 nothing to fear," said he ; " keep this side of the island, 
 and I'll live on the other, rather than hear the name of 
 Arthur Wardlaw." 
 
 Helen's courage failed her at that spirited proposal, 
 and she made no reply at all, but turned her back 
 haughtily, and went away from him; only when she had 
 got a little way her proud head drooped, and she went 
 crying. 
 
 A coolness sprang up between them, and neither of 
 them knew how to end it. Hazel saw no way to serve 
 her now, except by flying weighted ducks ; and he gave 
 his mind so to this, that one day he told her he had 
 twenty-seven ducks in the air, all charged, and two-thirds 
 of them weighted. He thought that must please her 
 now. To his surprise and annoyance, she received the 
 intelligence coldly, and asked him whether it was not 
 cruel to the birds. 
 
 Hazel colored with mortification at his great act of 
 self-denial being so received. 
 
 He said, "I don't think my worst enemy can say I am 
 wantonly cruel to God's creatures." 
 
 Helen thtew in, deftly, "And I am not your worst 
 enemy." 
 
 "But what other way is there to liberate you from 
 this island, where you have nobody to Speak to but me ? 
 
344 FOTTL PLAY. 
 
 Well, selfishness is the best course. Think only of 
 others, and you are sure not to please them." 
 
 "If you -want to please people, you must begin by 
 understanding them," said the lady, not ill-naturedly. 
 
 " But if they don't understand themselves ? " 
 
 " Then pity them ; you can, for you are a man." 
 
 "What hurts me," said Hazel, "is that you really 
 seem to think I fly these ducks for my pleasure. Why, 
 if I had my wish, you and I should never leave this 
 island, nor any other person set a foot on it. I am frank, 
 you see." 
 
 "Eather too frank." 
 
 "What does it matter, since I do my duty all the 
 same, and fly the ducks ? But sometimes I do yearn 
 for a word of praise for it, and that word never comes." 
 
 "It is a praiseworthy act," said Helen, but so icily 
 that it is a wonder he ever flew another duck after that. 
 
 "No matter," said he, and his hand involuntarily 
 sought his heart ; " you read me a sharp but wholesome 
 lesson, that we should do our duty for our duty's sake. 
 And as I am quite sure it is my duty to liberate you and 
 restore you to those you — I'll fly three ducks to-morrow 
 morning instead of two." 
 
 " It is not , done by my advice," said Helen. " You 
 will certainly make yourself ill." 
 
 " Oh, that is all nonsense," said Hazel. 
 
 "You are rude to me," said Helen, "and I don't 
 deserve it." 
 
 " Eude, am I ? Then I'll say no more," said Hazel, 
 half-humbly, half -doggedly. 
 
 His parchment was exhausted, and he was driven to 
 another expedient. He obtained alcohol by distillation 
 from rum, and having found dragon's-blood in its pure 
 state, little ruby drops, made a deep red varnish that 
 
FOtTL PLAT. 345 
 
 defied water ; he got slips of bark, wliite inside^ cut Ms 
 inscription deep on the inner side, and filled the incised 
 letters with this red varnish. He had forty-eight ducks 
 in the air, and was rising before daybreak to catch 
 another couple, when he was seized with a pain in the 
 right hip and knee, and found he could hardly walk, so 
 he gave in that morning, and kept about the premises. 
 But he got worse, and he had hardly any use in his right 
 side, from the waist downwards, and was in great pain. 
 
 As the day wore on, the pain and loss of power 
 increased, and resisted all his remedies; there was no 
 fever to speak of, but Nature was grimly revenging her- 
 self for many a gentler warning neglected. When he 
 realized his condition, he was terribly cut up, and sat on 
 the sand with his head in his hands for nearly two 
 hours. But, after that period of despondency, he got 
 up, took his boat-hook, and using it as a staff, hobbled 
 to his arsenal, and set to work. 
 
 Amongst his materials was a young tree he had pulled 
 up : the roots ran at right angles to the stem. He just 
 sawed off the ends of the roots, and then proceeded to 
 shorten the stem. 
 
 But meantime, Helen, who had always a secret eye on 
 him and his movements, had seen there was something 
 wrong, and came timidly and asked what was the 
 matter. 
 
 "Nothing," said he, doggedly. 
 
 " Then why did you sit so long on the sand ? I never 
 saw you like that." 
 
 "I was ruminating." 
 
 " What upon ? Not that I have any right to ask." 
 
 " On the arrogance and folly of men ; they attempt 
 more than they can do, and despise the petty prudence 
 and common sense of women, and smart for it ; as I am 
 smarting now for being wiser than you." 
 
346 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 "Oh!" said Helen; "why, what is the matter? and 
 what is that you have made ? It looks like — oh, 
 dear ! " 
 
 " It is a crutch," said Hazel, with forced calmness ; 
 " and I am a cripple." 
 
 Helen clasped her hands and stood trembling. 
 
 Hazel lost his self-control for a moment, and cried out 
 in a voice of agony, " A useless cripple. I wish I was 
 dead and out of the way." 
 
 Then, ashamed of having given way before her, he 
 seized his crutch, placed the crook under his arm, and 
 turned sullenly away from her. 
 
 Four steps he took with his crutch. 
 
 She caught him with two movements of her supple 
 and vigorous frame. 
 
 She just laid her left hand gently on his shoulder, and 
 with her right she stole the crutch softly away, and let 
 it fall upon the sand. She took his right hand, and put 
 it to her lips like a subject paying homage to her sove- 
 reign ; and then she put her strong arm under his shoul- 
 der, still holding his right hand in hers, and looked in 
 his face. "No wooden crutches when I am by," said 
 she in a low voice, full of devotion. 
 
 He stood surprised, and his eyes began to fill. 
 
 "Come," said she, in a voice of music. And, thus 
 aided, he went with her to her cavern. As they went, 
 she asked him tenderly where the pain was. 
 
 " It was in my hip and knee," he said : " but now it is 
 nowhere ; for joy has come back to my heart." 
 
 " And to mine too," said Helen ; " except for this." 
 
 The quarrel dispersed like a cloud, under this calamity. 
 There was no formal reconciliation ; no discussion : and 
 this was the wisest course : for the unhappy situation 
 remained unchanged ; and the friendliest discussion 
 
FOITL PLAT. 347 
 
 could only fan the embers of discord aad misery gently, 
 instead of fiercely. 
 
 The pair so strangely thrown together commenced a 
 new chapter of their existence. It was not patient and 
 nurse over again; Hazel, though very lame, had too 
 much spirit left to accept that position. But still the 
 sexes became in a measure reversed — Helen the fisher- 
 man and forager, Hazel the cook and domestic. 
 
 He was as busy as ever, but ia a narrow circle ; he 
 found pearl oysters near the sunk galleon, and ere he had 
 been lame many weeks, he had entirely lined the sides 
 of the cavern with mother-of-pearl set in cement, and 
 close as mosaic. 
 
 Every day he passed an hour ia paradise; for his living 
 crutch made him take a little walk with her ; her hand 
 held his; her arm supported his shoulder; her sweet 
 face was near his, full of tender solicitude : they seemed 
 to be one ; and spoke in whispers to each other, like 
 thinking aloud. The causes of happiness were ever 
 present : the causes of unhappiness were out of sight, 
 and showed no signs of approach. 
 
 And of the two, Helen was the happiest. Before a 
 creature so pure as this marries and has children, the 
 great maternal instinct is still there, but feeds on what 
 it can get — first a doll, and then some helpless creature 
 or other. Too often she wastes her heart's milk on 
 something grown up, but as selfish as a child. Helen 
 was more fortunate ; her child was her hero, now so lame 
 that he must lean on her to walk. The days passed by, 
 and the island was fast becoming the world to those 
 two, and as bright a world as ever shone on two mortal 
 creatures. 
 
 It was a happy dream. 
 
 What a pity that dreams dissolve so soon ! This had 
 
348 FOTTL PLAT, 
 
 lasted for nearly two months, and Hazel was getting 
 better, thought still not well enough, or not fool enough, 
 to dismiss his live crutch, when one afternoon Helen, 
 who had been up on the heights, observed a dark cloud 
 in the blue sky towards the west. There was not 
 another cloud visible, and the air marvellously clear; 
 time, about three-quarters of an hour before sunset. 
 She told Hazel about this solitary cloud, and asked him, 
 with some anxiety, if it portended another storm. He 
 told her to be under no alarm — there were no tempests 
 in that latitude except at the coming in and going out of 
 the rains, — but he should like to go round the point 
 and look at her cloud. 
 
 She leant him her arm, and they went round the 
 point; and there they saw a cloud entirely different 
 from anything they had ever seen since they were on the 
 island. It was like an enormous dark ribbon stretched 
 along the sky, at some little height above the horizon. 
 Notwithstanding its prodigious length it got larger before 
 their very eyes. 
 
 Hazel started. 
 
 Helen felt him start, and asked him, with some 
 surprise, what was the matter. 
 
 " Cloud ! " said he, " that is no cloud. That is smoke." 
 
 " Smoke ! " echoed Helen, becoming agitated in her 
 turn. 
 
 "Yes; the breeze is northerly, and carries the smoke 
 nearer to us ; it is the smoke of a steamboat." 
 
fotjIj play. 349 
 
 CHAPTER XLIL 
 
 Both were greatly moved ; and after one swift glance 
 Helen stole at him, neither looked at the other. They 
 spoke in flurried whispers. 
 
 " Can they see the island ? " 
 
 " I don't know ; it depends on how far the boat is to 
 windward of her smoke." 
 
 " How shall we know ? " 
 
 "If she sees the island, she will make for it that 
 moment." 
 
 " Why ? do ships never pass an unknown island ? " 
 
 "Yes. But that steamer will not pass us." 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 At this question Hazel hung his head and his lip 
 quivered. He answered her at last. "Because she is 
 looking for you." 
 
 Helen was struck dumb at this. 
 
 He gave his reasons. "Steamers never visit these 
 waters. Love has brought that steamer out ; love that 
 will not go unrewarded. Arthur Wardlaw is on board 
 that ship." 
 
 " Have they seen us yet ? " 
 
 Hazel forced on a kind of dogged fortitude. He said, 
 " When the smoke ceases to elongate, you will know they 
 have changed their course, and they will change their 
 course the moment the man at the mast-head sees us." 
 
 " Oh ! But how do you know they have a man at the 
 mast-head ? " 
 
 "I know by myseK. I should have a man at the 
 mast-head night and day." 
 
350 FOtJIi PLAT. 
 
 And now the situation was beyond words. They both 
 watched, and watched, to see the line of smoke cease. 
 
 It continued to increase, and spread eastward; and 
 that proved the steamer was continuing her course. 
 
 The sun drew close to the horizon. 
 
 " They don't see us," said Helen, faintly. 
 
 « Ko," said Hazel ; "not yet." 
 
 "And the sun is just setting. It is all over." 
 
 She put her handkerchief to her eyes a moment, and 
 then, after a sob or two, she said almost cheerfully, 
 " Well, dear friend, we were happy till that smoke came 
 to disturb us : let us try and be as happy now it is gone. 
 Don't smile like that, it makes me shudder." 
 
 " Did I smile ? It must have been at your simplicity 
 in thinking we have seen the last of that steamer." 
 
 " And so we have." 
 
 "Not so. In three hours she will be at anchor in that 
 bay." 
 
 " Why, what wiU bring her ? " 
 
 "I shall bring her." 
 
 "You? How?" 
 
 " By lighting my bonfire." 
 
m>vi' PLAY. 351 
 
 CHAPTER Xmi. 
 
 Helen had forgotten all about the bonfire. She now 
 asked whether he was sure those on board the steamer 
 could see the bonfire. Then Hazel told her that it was 
 now of prodigious size and height. Some six months 
 before he was crippled he had added and added to it. 
 
 "That bonfire," said he, "will throw a ruddy glare 
 over the heavens, that they can't help seeiug on board 
 the steamer. Then, as they are not on a course, but on 
 a search, they will certainly run a few miles southward 
 to see what it is. They wUl say it is a beacon or a ship 
 on fire ; and, in either case, they will turn the boat's head 
 this way. Well, before they have run southward half a 
 dozen miles, their look-out will see the bonfire, and the 
 island in its light. Let us get to the boat, my lucifers 
 are there." 
 
 She lent him her arm to the boat, and stood by while 
 he made his preparations. They were very simple. He 
 took a pine torch and smeared it all over with pitch; 
 then put his lucLfer-box in his bosom, and took his 
 crutch. His face was drawn pitiably, but his closed 
 lips betrayed unshaken and unshakable resolution. He 
 shouldered his crutch, and hobbled up as far as the 
 cavern. Here Helen interposed. 
 
 "Don't you go toiling up the hill," said she. ^'Give 
 me the lucifers and the torch, and let me light 
 the beacon. I shall be there in half the time you 
 wiU." 
 
 " Thank you ! thank you ! " said Hazel, eagerly, not to 
 say violently. 
 
362 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 He wanted it done ; but it killed Mm to do it. He 
 then gave her his instructions. 
 
 " It is as big as a haystack," said he, " and as dry as a 
 chip; and there are eight bundles of straw placed 
 expressly. Light the bundles to wiudward first, then 
 the others ; it will soon be all in a blaze." 
 
 " Meanwhile," said Helen, " you prepare our supper. 
 I feel quite faint — for want of it." 
 
 Hazel assented. 
 
 "It is the last we shall — " he was going to say it 
 was the last they would eat together; but his voice 
 failed him, and he hobbled into the cavern, and tried to 
 smother his emotion in work. He lighted the fire, and 
 blew it into a flame with a palmetto-leaf, and then he 
 sat down a while, very sick at heart ; then he got up and 
 did the cooking, sighing all the time ; and, just when ha 
 was beginning to wonder why Helen was so long light- 
 ing eight bundles of straw, she came ia, looking pale. 
 
 " Is it all right ? " said he. 
 
 " Go and look," said she. " No, let us have our supper 
 first." 
 
 Neither had any appetite : they sat and kept casting 
 strange looks at one another. 
 
 To divert this anyhow Hazel looked up at the roof, 
 and said faintly, " If I had known, I would have made 
 more haste, and set pearl there as well." 
 
 " What does that matter ? " said Helen, looking down, 
 
 " Not much, indeed," replied he, sadly. " I am a fool 
 to utter such childish regrets ; and, more than that, I am 
 a mean selfish cur to have a regret. Come, come, we 
 can't eat ; let us go round the point and see the waves 
 reddened by the beacon, that gives you back to the world 
 you were born to embellish." 
 
 Helen said she would go directly. Ajid her languid 
 reply contrasted strangely with his excitement. She 
 
FOXJIj PIiAY. ^53 
 
 played -witli her supper, and lie could wait no longer, 
 he must go and see how the beacon was burning. 
 
 " Oh, very well," said she ; and they went down to the 
 beach. 
 
 She took his crutch and gave it to him. This little 
 thing cut him to the heart. It was the first time she 
 had accompanied him so far as that without offering her- 
 self to be his crutch. He sighed deeply, as he put the 
 crutch under his arm ; but he was too proud to complain, 
 only he laid it all on the approaching steamboat. 
 
 The subtle creature by his side heard the sigh, and 
 smiled sadly at being misunderstood — but what man 
 could understand her? They hardly spoke till they 
 reached the point. The waves glittered in the moon- 
 light: there was no red light on the water. 
 
 " Why, what is this ? " said Hazel. " You can't have 
 lighted the bonfire in eight places, as I told you." 
 
 She folded her arms and stood before him in an atti- 
 tude of defiance : all but her melting eye. 
 
 " I have not lighted at it all," said she. 
 
 Hazel stood aghast. " What have I done ? " he cried. 
 "Duty, manhood, everything, demanded that I should 
 light that beacon, and I trusted it to you." 
 
 Helen's attitude of defiance melted away : she began 
 to cower, and hid her blushing face in her hands. Then 
 she looked up imploringly. Then she uttered a wild and 
 eloquent cry, and fled from him Uke the wind. 
 
 23 
 
354 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLTV. 
 
 That cloud was really the smoke of the Springbok, 
 which had mounted into air so thin that it could rise no 
 higher. The boat herself was many miles to the north- 
 ward, returning full of heavy hearts from a fruitless 
 search. She came back in a higher parallel of latitude, 
 intending afterwards to steer N.W. to Easter Island. 
 The life was gone out of the ship ; the father was deeply 
 dejected, and the crew could no longer feign the hope 
 they did not feel. Having pursued the above course to 
 within four hundred miles of Juan Fernandez, General 
 EoUeston begged the captain to make a bold deviation 
 to the S.W., and then see if they could find nothing there 
 before going to Easter Island. 
 
 Captain Moreland was very unwilling to go to the 
 S.W., the more so as coal was getting short. However, 
 he had not the heart to refuse General Rolleston any- 
 thing. There was a northerly breeze ; he had the fires 
 put out, and, covering the ship with canvas, sailed three 
 hundred miles S.W. But found nothing. Then he took 
 in sail, got up steam again, and away for Easter Island. 
 The ship ran so fast that she had got into latitude 32° 
 by 10 A.M. next morning. 
 
 At lOh. 15m. the dreary monotony of this cruise was 
 broken by the man at the mast-head. 
 
 "On deck there!" 
 
 "Hullo!" 
 
 " The schooner on our weather-bow I " 
 
 "Well, what of her?" 
 
 "She has luffed." 
 
POTJL PLAY. 365 
 
 "Well, what 0' that?" 
 
 " She has altered her course." 
 
 " How many points ? " 
 
 " She was sailing S.E., and now her head is N.E; 
 
 " That is curious." 
 
 General KoUeston, who had come and listened with a 
 grain of hope, now sighed and turned away. 
 
 The captain explained kindly that the man was quite 
 right to draw his captain's attention to the fact of a 
 trading vessel altering her course. "There is a sea- 
 grammar, general," said he ; "and when one seaman sees 
 another violate it, he concludes there is some reason or 
 other. Now, Jack, what d'ye make of her ? " 
 
 " I can't make much of her : she don't seem to know 
 her own mind, that is all. At ten o'clock she was bound 
 for Valparaiso or the island. But now she has come 
 about and beating to windward." 
 
 « Bound for Easter Island ? " 
 
 " I dunno." 
 
 "Keep your eye on her." 
 
 "Ay, ay, sir." 
 
 Captain Moreland told General KoUeston that very 
 few ships went to Easter Island, which lies in a lovely 
 climate, but is a miserable place ; and he was telling the 
 general that it is inhabited by savages of a low order, 
 who half worship the relics of masonry left by their 
 more civilized predecessors, when Jack hailed the deck 
 again. 
 
 " Well," said the captain. 
 
 " I think she is bound for the Springbok." 
 
 The soldier received this conjecture with astonishment 
 and incredulity, not to be wondered at. 
 
 The steamboat headed N.W. right in the wind's eye. 
 
 Sixteen miles off at least a ship was sailing N.E. So 
 that the two courses might be represented with tolerable 
 
356 P0X7L PLAY. 
 
 accuracy by the following diagram, in which A repre- 
 sents the course of the steamer, and B that of the 
 schooner. And there hung in the air, like a black mark 
 against the blue sky, a fellow, whose oracular voice came 
 down and said B was endeavoring to intercept A. 
 
 K 
 
 'B 
 
 Nevertheless time confirmed the conjecture; the 
 schooner, having m,ade a short board to the N.E., came 
 about and made a long board due west, which was as 
 near as she could lie to the wind. On this Captain 
 Moreland laid the steamboat's head due north. This 
 brought the vessels rapidly together. 
 
 When they were about two miles distant, the stranger 
 slackened sail and hove-to ; hoisting stars and stripes at 
 her mizzen. The union jack went up the shrouds of the 
 Springbok directly, and she pursued her course, but 
 gradually slackened her steam. 
 
 General EoUeston walked the deck in great agitation, 
 and now indulged in wild hopes, which Captain Moreland 
 thought it best to discourage at once. 
 
 "Ah, sir," he said ; " don't you run into the other ex- 
 treme, and imagine he has come on our business. It is 
 at sea as it is ashore : if a man goes out of his course to 
 speak to you, it is for his own sake, not yours. This 
 Yankee has got men sick with scurvy, and is come for 
 lime juice. Or his water is out. Or — hallo, savages 
 aboard." 
 
 It was too true. The schooner had a cargo of savages 
 male and female ; the males were nearly naked, but the 
 
FOTJL PLAT. 357 
 
 females, strange to say, were dressed to the throat in 
 ample robes with broad and flowing skirts, and had little 
 coronets on their heads. As soon as the schooner hove- 
 to, the fiddle had struck up, and the savages were now 
 dancing in parties of four; the men doing a sort of 
 monkey hornpipe in quick pace with their hands nearly 
 touching the ground : the women, on the contrary, erect 
 and queenly, swept about in slow rhythm, with most 
 graceful and coquettish movements of the arms and 
 hands, and bewitching smiles. 
 
 The steamboat came alongside, but at a certain 
 distance, to avoid all chance of collision; and the 
 crew clustered at the side and cheered the savages 
 dancing. The poor general was forgotten at the merry 
 sight. 
 
 Presently a negro in white cotton, with a face blacker 
 than the savages, stepped forward and hoisted a board, 
 on which was printed very large : Aee yotj 
 
 Having allowed this a moment to sink into the mind, 
 he reversed the board, and showed these words, also 
 pinted large: The Spbutgbok? 
 
 There was a thrilling murmur on board ; and after a 
 pause of surprise, the question was answered by a loud 
 cheer and waving of hats. 
 
 The reply was perfectly understood ; almost immedi- 
 ately a boat was lowered by some novel machinery, and 
 pnUed towards the steamer. There were two men in it : 
 the skipper and the negro. The skipper came up the 
 side of the Springbok. He was loosely dressed in some 
 light drab^jolored stuff and a huge straw hat; a man 
 with a. long Puritanical head, a nose inclined to be aqui- 
 line, a face bronzed by weather and heat, thin resolute 
 lips, and a sqnare chin. But for a certain breadth be- 
 tween his keen gray eyes, which revealed more intellect 
 tiian Cromwell's Ironsides were encumbered with, he 
 
358 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 might Lave passed for one of that hard-praying, harder- 
 hitting fraternity. 
 
 He came on deck, just touched his hat, as if to brush 
 away a fly, and, removing an enormous cigar from his 
 mouth, said, " Wal, and so this is the Springbok. Spry 
 little boat she is : how many knots can ye get out of her 
 now ? Not that I am curious." 
 
 " About twelve knots." 
 
 "And when the steam's off the bile how many can 
 you sail ? Kot that it is my business." 
 
 " Eight or nine. What is your business ? " 
 
 " Hum ! You have been over some water looking for 
 that gal. Where do ye hail from last ? " 
 
 " The Society Islands. Did you board me to hear me 
 my catechism ? " 
 
 " No, I am not one of your prying sort. Where are 
 ye bound for now ?" 
 
 " I am bound for Easter Island." 
 
 "Have you heard anything of the gal?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " And when do ye expect to go back to England as 
 wise as ye came ? " 
 
 "Never while the ship can swim," cried Moreland, 
 angrily, to hide his despondency from this stranger. 
 " And now it is my turn, I think. What schooner is 
 this ? by whom commanded, and whither bound ? " 
 
 " The Julia Dodd ; Joshua FuUalove ; bound for Juan 
 Fernandez with the raw material of civilization — look 
 at the varmint skippin' — and a printing press ; an' that's 
 the instrument of civilization, I rather think." 
 
 " Well, sir ; and why in heaven's name did you change 
 your course ? " 
 
 "Wal, I reckon I changed it — to tell you a lie." 
 
 "To tell us a lie?" 
 
 " Ay ; the darndest etarnal lie that ever came out of a 
 
FOUL PLAY. 359 
 
 man's mouth. Fust, there's an unknown island some- 
 wheres about. That's a kinder flourish beforehand. On 
 that island there's an English gal wrecked." 
 
 Exclamations btirst forth on every side at this. 
 
 "And she's so tarnation cute, she's flying ducks all 
 over creation with a writing tied to their legs, telling the 
 tale, and setting down the longitude. There, if that 
 isn't a buster, I hope I may never live to tell another." 
 
 " God bless you, sir ! " cried the general. " Where is 
 the island ? " 
 
 "What island?" 
 
 " The island where my child is wrecked." 
 
 " What, are you the gal's father ? " said Joshua, with 
 a sudden touch of feeling. 
 
 "I am, sir. Pray withhold nothing from me you 
 know." 
 
 " Why, cunnle," said the Yankee, soothingly ; " don't 
 I tell you it's a buster ? However, the lie is none o' 
 mine. It's that old cuss Skinflint set it afloat; he is 
 always pisoning these peaceful waters." 
 
 Eolleston asked eagerly who Skinflint was, and where 
 he could be found. 
 
 "Wal, he's a sorter sea Jack-of-all-trades, etarnally 
 cruising about to buy gratis, — those he buys of call it 
 stealing. Got a rotten old cutter, manned by his wife and 
 fam'ly. They get coal out of me for fur, and sell the 
 coal at double my price ; they kill seals and dress the 
 skins aboard ; kill fish and salt 'em aboard. Ye know 
 when that fam'ly is at sea by the smeU that pervades the 
 briny deep an' heralds their approach. Yesterday the 
 air smelt awful : so I said to Vespasian here, I think 
 that sea-skunk is out, for there's something a-pisoning 
 the cerulean waves an' succumambient air. We hadn't 
 sailed not fifty miles more before we run agin him. 
 Their clothes were drying all about the rigging. Hails 
 
360 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 me, the varmint does. Vesp and I, we work the printing- 
 press together, an' so order him to looward, not to taint 
 our Otaheitans, that stink of ile at home, but I had 'em 
 biled before I'd buy em, an' now they're vilets. ' Wal, 
 now, Skinflint,' says I ; ' I reckon you're come to bring 
 me that harpoon o' mine you stole last time you was at 
 my island ? ' 'I never saw your harpoon,' says he ; ' I 
 want to know, have you come across the Springbok ? ' 
 ' Mebbe I have,' says I ; ' why do you ask ? ' ' Got news 
 for her,' says he; 'and can't find her nowheres.' So 
 then we set to and fenced a bit ; and this old varmint, 
 to put me off the truth, told me the buster. A month 
 ago or more he was boarded — by a duck. And this 'ere 
 duck had a writing tied to his leg, and this 'ere writing 
 said an English gal was wrecked on an island, and put 
 down the very longitude. ' Show me that duck,' ses I, 
 ironical. ' D'ye take us for fools ? ' ses he ; 'we ate the 
 duck for supper.' 'That was like ye,' says I; 'if an 
 angel brought your pardon down from heights celestial, 
 you'd roast him and sell his feathers for swan's-down ; 
 mebbe you ate the writing ? I know you're a hungry 
 lot.' ' The writing is in my cabin,' says he. ' Show it 
 me,' says I, 'an mebbe I'll believe ye.' No, the cuss 
 would only show it to the Springbok ; ' there's a reward,' 
 says he. ' What's the price of a soul aboard your cut- 
 ter ? ' I asked him. ' Have you parted with yours as 
 you wants to buy one ? ' says he. ' Not one as would 
 carry me right slick away to everlasting blazes,' says I. 
 So then we said good morning, and he bore away for 
 Valparaiso. Presently I saw your smoke, and that you 
 would never overhaul old Stinkamalee on that track : so 
 I came about. Now I tell you that old cuss knows 
 where the gal is, and mebbe has got her tied hand and 
 fut in his cabin. An' I'm kinder sot on English gals : 
 they put me in mind of butter and honey. Why, my- 
 
POTJL PLAY. -561 
 
 schooner is named after one. So, now, cunnle, clap on 
 steam for Valparaiso, and you'll soon overhaul the old 
 stink-pot ; you may know him by the brown patch in his 
 jib-sail, the ontidy varmint. Pull out your purse and 
 bind him to drop lying about ducks and geese, and tell 
 you the truth ; he knows where your gal is, I swan. 
 Wal, ye needn't smother me." For by this time he was 
 the centre of a throng, all pushing and driving to catch 
 his words. 
 
 Captain Moreland begged him to step down into his 
 cabin, and there the general thanked him with great 
 warmth and agitation for his humanity. "We will follow 
 your advice at once," he said. " Is there anything I can 
 offer you, without offence ? " 
 
 "Wal," drawled the Yankee, "I guess not. Business 
 and sentiment won't mix nohow. Business took me to 
 the island, sentiment brought me here. I'll take a shake- 
 hand aU. round ; and if y'have got live fowls to spare I'll 
 be obliged to you for a couple. Ye see I'm colonizing 
 that darned island : an' sowing it with grain, an' apples, 
 an' Otaheitans, an' niggers, an' Irishmen, an' all the other 
 cream o' creation ; an' I'd be glad of a couple o' Dorkins 
 to crow the lazy varmint up." 
 
 This very moderate request was very readily complied 
 with, and the acclamations and cheers of the crew fol- 
 lowed this strange character to his schooner, at which his 
 eye glistened and twinkled with quiet satisfaction, but 
 he made it a point of honor not to move a muscle. 
 
 Before he could get under way the Springbok took a 
 circuit, and passing within a hundred yards of him, fired 
 a gun to leeward by way of compliment, set a cloud of 
 canvas, and tore through the water at her highest speed. 
 Outside the port of Valparaiso she fell in with Skinflint, 
 and found him not quite so black as he was painted. 
 The old fellow showed some parental feeling, produced 
 
362 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 the bag at once to General Eolleston, and assured him a 
 ■wearied duck had come on board, and his wife had 
 detached the writing. 
 
 They took in coal, and then ran westward once more, 
 every heart beating high with confident hope. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 363 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 Helen's axjt was strange^ and demands a word of expla- 
 nation. If she had thought the steamboat was a strange 
 vessel, she would have lighted the bonfire: if she had 
 known her father was on board, she would have lighted 
 it with joy. But Hazel, whose every word now was 
 gospel, had said it was Arthur Wardlaw in that boat, 
 seaching for her. 
 
 Stm, so strong is the impulse in all civilized beings to 
 get back to civilization, that she went up that hill as 
 honestly intending to light the bonfire, as Hazel intended 
 it should be lighted. But as she went her courage cooled, 
 and her feet began to go slowly, as her mind ran swiftly 
 forward to consequence upon consequence. To light that 
 bonfi[re was to bring Arthur Wardlaw down upon herself 
 and Hazel living alone and on intimate terms. Arthur 
 would come and claim her to his face. Could she dis- 
 allow his claim ? Gratitude would now be on his side 
 as well as good feith. "What a shock to Arthur ! What 
 torture for Hazel ! torture that he foresaw, or why the 
 face of anguish, that dragged even now at her heart- 
 strings ? And then it could end only in one way ; she 
 and Hazel would leave the island in Arthur's ship. 
 What a voyage for all three ! She stood transfixed by 
 shame, her whole body blushed at what she saw coming. 
 Then once more Hazel's face rose before her ; poor crip- 
 pled Hazel! her hero and her patient. She sat down 
 and sighed, and could no more light the fire, than she 
 could have put it out if another had lighted it. 
 
 She was a girl that could show you at times she had a 
 
364 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 father as well as a motlier ; but tliat evening she was all 
 woman. 
 
 They met no more that night. 
 
 In the morning his face was haggard, and showed a 
 mental struggle ; but hers was placid and quietly beam- 
 ing, for the very reason that she had made a great sacri- 
 iice. She was one of that sort. 
 
 And this difference between them was a foretaste. 
 
 His tender conscience pricked him sore. To see her 
 sit beaming there, when, if he had done his own duty 
 with his own hands, she would be on her way to England ! 
 Yet his remorse was dumb ; for, if he gave it vent, then 
 he must seem ungrateful to her for her sacrifice. 
 
 She saw his deep and silent compunction, approved it 
 secretly, said nothing, but smiled, and beamed, and 
 soothed. He could not resist this; and wild thrills of 
 joy and hope passed through him, visions of unbroken 
 bliss far from the world. 
 
 But this sweet delirium was followed by misgivings of 
 another kind. And here she was at fault. What could 
 they be ? 
 
 It was the voice of conscience telling him that he was 
 really winning her love once inaccessible ; and, if so> 
 was bound to tell her his whole story, and let her judge 
 between him and the world, before she made any more 
 sacrifices for him. But it is hard to stop great happi- 
 ness : harder to stop it and ruin it. Every night as he 
 la,y alone he said, "To-morrow I will tell her all, and 
 make her the judge." But in the morning her bright 
 face crushed his purpose by the fear of clouding it. His 
 limbs got strong and his heart got weak ; and they used 
 to take walks ; and her head came near his shoulder ; 
 and the path of duty began to be set thicker than ever 
 with thorns, and the path of love with primroses. One 
 day fihe made him sit to her for his portrait; and, under 
 
FOUIi PLAY. 365; 
 
 cover of artistic eatbusiasm, told h]n] his beard, was god- 
 like, and nothing in the world coiild equal it for beauty; 
 she never saw but one at all like it, poor Mr. Seaton's ; 
 but even that was very inferior to his : and then she dis- 
 missed the sitter, "Poor thing," said she, "you are pale 
 and tired." And she began to use ornaments, took her 
 bracelets out of her bag, and picked pearls out of her 
 walls, and made a coronet, under which her ey«s flashed at 
 night with superlative beauty, conscious beauty admired 
 and looked at by the eye she desired to please. 
 
 She revered him. He had improved her character, and 
 she knew it, and often told him so. " Call me Hazelia," 
 she said ; " make me liker you, still." 
 
 One day he came suddenly through the jungle and 
 found her reading her prayer-book. 
 
 He took it from her, not meaning to be rude neither, 
 but inquisitive. , 
 
 It was open at the marriage-service, and her cheeks 
 were dyed scarlet. 
 
 His heart panted. He was a clergyman : he could read 
 that service over them both. 
 
 Would it be a marriage ? 
 
 Not in England ; but in some countries it would. Why 
 not in this ? This was not England. 
 
 He looked up. Her head was averted ; she was down- 
 right distressed. 
 
 He was sorry to have made her blush ; so he took her 
 hand and kissed it tenderly, so tenderly, that his heart 
 seemed to go into his lips. She thrilled under it, and 
 her white brow sank upon his shoulder. 
 
 The sky was a vault of purple with a flaming topaz in 
 the centre ; the sea, a heavenly blue ; the warm air breathed 
 heavenly odors; flaming macaws wheeled overhead; hum- 
 ming-birds, more gorgeous than any flower, buzzed round 
 their heads, and amazed the eye with delight, then cooled 
 
366 FOUli PIM.I. 
 
 it witli the deep green of the jungle into which they 
 dived. 
 
 It was a Paradise, with the sun smiling down on it, and 
 the ocean smiling up, and the air impregnated with love. 
 Here they were both content now to spend the rest of 
 their days — 
 
 " The world forgetting ; by the world forgot." 
 
FOUL PLAY. 367 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 The Springbok arrived in due course at longitude 103° 
 30', but saw no island. This was dispiriting ; but still 
 Captain Moreland did not despair. 
 
 He asked General EoUeston to examine the writing 
 carefully, and tell him was that Miss Eolleston's hand- 
 writing. 
 
 The general shook his head sorrowfully. 
 
 "No," said he ; "it is nothing like my child's hand." 
 
 ""Why, all the better," said Captain Moreland; "the 
 lady has got somebody about her who knows a thing or 
 two. The man that could catch wild ducks and turn 'em 
 into postmen, could hit on the longitude somehow j and 
 he doesn't pretend to be exact in the latitude." 
 
 Upon this he ran Jiorthward four hundred miles ; 
 which took him three days ; for they stopped at night. 
 
 No island. 
 
 He then ran south five hundred miles; stopping at 
 night. 
 
 No island. 
 
 Then he took the vessel zigzag. 
 
 Just before sunset, one lovely day, the man at the 
 mast-head sang out : 
 
 "On deck there!" 
 
 "Hullo!" 
 
 " Something in sight ; on our weather-bow." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Looks like a mast. No. Don't know what it is." 
 
 "Point." 
 
 The sailor pointed with his finger. 
 
36* FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Captain Moreland ordered the ship's course to be 
 altered accordingly. By this time, General EoUeston 
 was on deck. The ship ran two miles on the new 
 course; and all this time the topman's glass was levelled, 
 and the crew climbed about the rigging, all eyes and 
 ears. 
 
 At last the clear hail came down. 
 
 " I can make it out now, sir." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " It is a palm-tree." 
 
 The captain jumped on a gun, and waved his hat 
 grandly, and instantly the vessel rang with a lusty 
 cheer ; and, for once, sailors gabbled like washerwomen. 
 
 They ran till they saw the island in the moonlight, 
 and the giant palm, black, and sculptured out of the 
 violet sky ; then they set the lead going, and it warned 
 them not to come too close. They anchored ofE the west 
 coast. 
 
 At daybreak, they moved slowly on, still sounding 
 as they went; and, rounding the west point. General 
 Eolleston saw written on the guanoed rocks in large 
 letters : — 
 
 AN ENGLISH LADY WRECKED HERE. 
 HASTE TO HER RESCUE. 
 
 He and Moreland shook hands; and how their eyes 
 glistened ! 
 
 Presently there was a stranger inscription still upon 
 the rocks — a rough outline of the island on an enor- 
 mous scale, showing the coast-line, the reefs, the shallow 
 water, and the deep water. 
 
 "Ease her! Stop her!" 
 
 The captain studied this original chart with his glass, 
 and crept slowly on for the west passage. 
 
FOUL PLAT. 369 
 
 But warned by the soundings marked on the rock, he 
 did not attempt to go through the passage, but came to 
 an anchor and lowered his boat. 
 
 The sailors were all on the qui vive to land ; but the 
 captain, to their infinite surprise, told them only three 
 persons would land that morning — himself, his son, and 
 General Rolleston. 
 
 The fact is, this honest captain had got a misgiving, 
 founded on a general view of human nature. He ex- 
 pected to find the girl with two or three sailors, one of 
 them united to her by some nautical ceremony, duly wit- 
 nessed, but such as a military of&cer of distinction could 
 hardly be expected to approve. He got into the boat in 
 a curious state of delight, dashed with uncomfortable 
 suspense ; and they rowed gently for the west passage. 
 
 As for Greneral Kolleston, now it was he needed all 
 his fortitude. Suppose the lady was not Helen ! After 
 all, the chances were against her being there. Suppose 
 she was dead and buried in that island ! Suppose that 
 fatal disease, with which she had sailed, had been accel- 
 erated by hardships, and Providence permitted him only 
 to receive her last sigh. All these misgivings crowded 
 on him the moment he drew so near the object, which 
 had looked all brightness, so long as it was unattainable. 
 He sat, pale and brave, in the boat ; but his doubts and 
 fears were greater than his hope. 
 
 They rounded Telegraph Point, and in a moment 
 Paradise Bay burst upon them, and Hazel's boat within 
 a hundred yards of them. It was haJf tide. They 
 beached the boat, and General RoUeston landed. Cap- 
 tain Moreland grasped his hand, and said, " Call us if it 
 is all right." 
 
 General Rolleston returned the pressure of that honest 
 hand, and marched up the beach just as if he were going 
 into action. 
 24 
 
370 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 He came to the boat. It had an awning over the 
 stem, and was clearly used as a sleeping-place. A series 
 of wooden pipes standing on uprights, led from this up 
 to the cliff. The pipes were in fact mere sections of 
 the sago tree with the soft pith driven out. As this was 
 manifestly a tube of communication, General EoUeston 
 followed it until he came to a sort of veranda with a 
 cave opening on it ; he entered the cave, and was dazzled 
 by its most unexpected beauty. He seemed to be in a 
 gigantic nautilus. Eoof and sides, and the very chimney, 
 were one blaze of mother-of-pearl. But, after the first 
 start, brighter to him was an old shawl he saw on a 
 nail ; for that showed it was a woman's abode. He tore 
 down the old shawl and carried it to the light. He 
 recognized it as Helen's. Her rugs were in a corner ; he 
 rushed in and felt them all over with trembling hands. 
 They were still warm, though she had left her bed some 
 time. He came out wild with joy, and shouted to More- 
 land, " She is alive ! She is alive ! She is alive ! " 
 Then fell on his knees and thanked God. 
 
 A cry came down to him from above ; he looked up as 
 he knelt, and there was a female figure dressed in white, 
 stretching out its hands as if it would fly down to him. 
 Its eyes gleamed ; he knew them all that way off. He 
 stretched out his hands as eloquently, and then he got 
 up to meet her ; but the stout soldier's limbs were stiffer 
 than of old ; and he got up so slowly, that, ere he could 
 take a step, there came flying to him with little screams 
 and inarticulate cries, no living skeleton, nor consump- 
 tive young lady, but a grand creature, tanned here and 
 there, rosy as the morn, and full of lusty vigor ; a body 
 all health, strength, and beauty, a soul all love. She 
 flung herself all over him in a moment, with cries of 
 love unspeakable; and then it was, "Oh, my darling! 
 my darling! Oh, my own, own! Ha! ha! ha! ha I 
 
FOUL PLAY, 371 
 
 Oh! oh! oil! oh! Is it you? is it? can it! Papa! 
 papa!" then little convulsive hands patting him and 
 feeling his beard and shoulders ; then a sudden hail of 
 violent kisses on his head, Ms eyes, his arms, his hands, 
 his knees. Then a stout soldier, broken down by this, 
 and sobbing for joy. " Oh, my child ! My flesh and 
 blood ! Oh ! oh ! oh ! " Then all manhood melted away, 
 except paternity ; and a father turned mother, and cling- 
 ing, kissing, and rocking to and fro with his child, and 
 both crying for joy as if their hearts would burst. 
 
 A sight for angels to look down at and rejoice. 
 
 But what mortal "pen could paint it ? 
 
372 JFOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 Thet gave a long time to pure joy before either of 
 them cared to put questions or compare notes. But 
 at last he asked her, " Who was on the island beside 
 her ? " 
 
 " Oh," said she, " only my guardian angel. Poor Mr. 
 Welch died the first week we were here." 
 
 He parted the hair on her brow and kissed it tenderly. 
 
 "And who is your guardian angel ? " 
 
 " Why, you are now my own papa : and well you have 
 proved it. To thiak of your being the one to come at 
 youj age ! " 
 
 "Well, never mind me. Who has taken such care of 
 my child ? — this the sick girl they frightened me 
 about!" 
 
 "Indeed, papa, I was a dying girl. My very hand 
 was wasted. Look at it now ; brown as a berry, but so 
 plump ; you owe that to him : and, papa, I can walk 
 twenty miles without fatigue: and so strong; I could 
 take you up in my arms and carry you, I know. But I 
 am content to eat you. (A shower of kisses.) "I hope 
 you will like him." 
 
 " My own Helen. Ah ! I am a happy old man this 
 day. What is his name ? " 
 
 "Mr. Hazel. He is a clergyman. Oh, papa, I hope 
 you will like him, for he has saved my life more than 
 once: and then he has been so generous, so delicate, so 
 patient ; for I used him very ill at first : and you will 
 find my character as much improved as my health : and 
 all owing to Mr. Hazel. He is a clergyman : and, oh, 
 
FOTJL PLAY. 373 
 
 SO good, so humble, so clever, so self-denying ! Ah ! how 
 can I ever repay him ? " 
 
 " Well, I shall be glad to see this paragon, and shake 
 him by the hand. You may imagine what I feel to any 
 one that is kind to my darling. An old gentleman? 
 About my age ? " 
 
 " Oh no, papa." 
 
 " Hum ! " 
 
 " If he had been old I should not be here ; for he has 
 had to fight me against cruel men with knives : and work 
 like a horse. He built me a hut, and made me this cave, 
 and almost killed himself in my service. Poor Mr. 
 Hazel ! " 
 
 "How old is he?" 
 
 " Dearest papa, I never asked him that : but I think 
 he is four or five years older than me, and a hundred 
 years better than I shall ever be, I am afraid. What is 
 the matter, darling ? " 
 
 "Nothing, child, nothing." 
 
 " Don't tell me. Can't I read your dear face ? " 
 
 " Come, let me read yours. Look me in the face, now ; 
 fuU." 
 
 He took her by the shoulders, firmly, but not the least 
 roughly, and looked straight into her hazel eyes. She 
 blushed at this ordeal, blushed scarlet; but her eyes, 
 pure as Heaven, faced his fairly, though with a puzzled 
 look. 
 
 He concluded this paternal inspection by kissing her 
 on the brow. " I was an old fool," he muttered. 
 
 "What do you say, dear papa ? " 
 
 "Nothing, nothing. Kiss me again. Well, love, you 
 had better find this guardian angel of yours, that I may 
 take him by the hand and give him a father's blessing, 
 and make him some little return by carrying him home 
 to England along with my darling." 
 
374 POTJL PLAY. 
 
 "I'll call him, papa. Where can he be gone, I 
 wonder ? " 
 
 She ran out to the terrace and called : 
 
 "Mr. Hazel! Mr. Hazel! I don't see him; but he 
 can't be far off. Mr. Hazel ! " 
 
 Then she came back and made her father sit down : 
 and she sat at his knee, beaming with delight. 
 
 " Ah, papa," said she, " it was you who loved me best 
 in England. It was you that came to look for me." 
 
 " No," said he, " there are others there that love you 
 as well in their way. Poor Wardlaw ! on his sick-bed 
 for you, cut like a flower the moment he heard you were 
 lost in the Proserpine. Ah, and I have broken faith." 
 
 " That is a story," said Helen ; " you couldn't." 
 
 " For a moment, I mean ; I promised the dear old man 
 — he furnished the ship, the men, and the money, to 
 find you. He says you are as much his daughter as 
 mine." 
 
 "Well, but what did you promise him ? " said Helen, 
 blushing and interrupting hastily, for she could not bear 
 the turn matters were now taking. 
 
 " Oh, only to give you the second kiss from Arthur. 
 Come, better late than never." She knelt before him 
 and put out her forehead instead of her lips. " There," 
 said the general, "that kiss is from Arthur Wardlaw, 
 your intended. Why, who the deuce is this ? " 
 
 A young man was standing wonder-struck at the 
 entrance, and had heard the general's last words ; they 
 went through him like a knife. General RoUeston 
 stared at him. 
 
 Helen uttered an ejaculation of pleasure, and said, 
 " This is my dear father, and he wants to thank you — " 
 
 "I don't understand this," said the general. "I 
 thought you told me there was nobody on the island 
 but you and your guardian angel. Did you count this 
 
FOTJIi PLAY. 375 
 
 poor fellow for nobody ? Why, he did you a good turn 
 once." 
 
 "Oh, papa!" said Helen reproachfully. "Why, this 
 is my guardian angel. This is Mr. Hazel." 
 
 The general looked from one to another in amazement, 
 then he said to Helen, " This your Mr. Hazel ? " 
 
 " Yes, papa." 
 
 "Why, you don't mean to tell me you don't know this 
 man ? " 
 
 " Know him, papa ! why, of course I know Mr. Hazel ; 
 know him and revere him, beyond all the world, except 
 you." 
 
 The general lost patience. " Are you out of your 
 senses ? " said he ; " this man here is no Hazel. Why, 
 this is James Seaton — our gardener — a ticket-of-leave 
 man." 
 
376 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLVIII. 
 
 At this fearful insult Helen drew back from her father 
 with a cry of dismay, and then moved towards Hazel 
 with her hands extended, as if to guard him from another 
 blow, and at the same time deprecate his resentment. 
 But then she saw his dejected attitude ; and she stood 
 confounded, looking from one to the other. 
 
 " I knew him in a moment by his beard," said the 
 general, coolly. 
 
 " Ah ! " cried Helen, and stood transfixed. She glared 
 at Hazel and his beard with dilating eyes, and began to 
 tremble. 
 
 Then she crept back to her father and held him tight ; 
 but still looked over her shoulder at Hazel with dilating 
 eyes and paling cheek. 
 
 As for Hazel, his deportment all this time went far 
 towards convicting him ; he leaned against the side of the 
 cave, and hung his head in silence : and his face was ashy 
 pale. When General EoUeston saw his deep distress, and 
 sudden terror and repugnance the revelation seemed to 
 create in his daughter's mind, he felt sorry he had gone 
 so far, and said, " Well, well ; it is not for me to judge 
 you harshly ; for you have laid me under a deep obliga- 
 tion: and, after all, I can see good reasons why you 
 should conceal your name from other people. But you 
 ought to have told my daughter the truth." 
 
 Helen interrupted him ; or rather, she seemed uncon- 
 scious he was speaking. She had never for an instant 
 taken her eye off the culprit : and now she spoke to 
 him: 
 
FOUL PLAY. 377 
 
 "Who, and what, are you, sir ? " 
 
 "My name is Eobert Penfold." 
 
 "Penfold! — Seaton!" cried Helen. "Alias upon 
 alias ! " And she turned to her father in despair. Then 
 to Hazel again, " Are you what papa says ? " 
 
 « I am." 
 
 "Oh, papa! papa!" cried Helen, "then there is no 
 truth nor honesty in all the world." And she turned 
 her back on Eobert Penfold, and cried and sobbed upon 
 her father's breast. 
 
 Oh, the amazement and anguish of that hour ! The 
 pure affection and reverence, that would have blessed a 
 worthy man, wasted on a convict! Her heart's best 
 treasures flung on a dunghill! This is a woman's 
 greatest loss on earth. And Helen sank, and sobbed 
 under it. 
 
 G-eneral EoUeston, whose own heart was fortified, took 
 a shallow view of the situation ; and, moreover, Helen's 
 face was hidden on his bosom; and what he saw was 
 Hazel's manly and intelligent countenance, pale, and 
 dragged with agony and shame. 
 
 " Come, come," he said gently, " don't cry about it ; it 
 is not your fault : and don't be too hard on the man ; 
 you told me he had saved your life." 
 
 " Would he had not ! " said the sobbing girl. 
 
 "There, Seaton," said the general. "Now you see 
 the consequences of deceit: it wipes out the deepest 
 obligations." He resumed, in a different tone, "Btit not 
 with me. This is a woman : but I am a man, and know 
 how a bad man could have abused the situation in which 
 I found you two." 
 
 "'Not worse than he has done," cried Helen. 
 
 " What do you tell me, girl ! " said Greneral Rolleston, 
 beginning to tremble in his turn. 
 
 "What could he do worse than steal my esteem and 
 
378 FOtrii PLAT. 
 
 veneration, and drag my heart's best feelings in the dirt? 
 Oh, where — where — can I ever look for a guide, 
 instructor, and faithful friend, after this ? He seemed 
 all truth ; and he is all a lie : the world is all a lie : 
 would I could leave it this moment ! " 
 
 " This is all romantic nonsense," said General EoUes- 
 ton, beginning to be angry. " You are a little fool, and, 
 in your ignorance and innocence, have no idea how well 
 this young fellow has behaved on the whole. I tell you 
 what ; in spite of this one fault, I should like to shake 
 him by the hand. I will, too : and then admonish him 
 afterwards." 
 
 " You shall not. You shall not," cried Helen, seizing 
 him almost violently by the arm. " You take him by 
 the hand ! A monster ! How dare you steal into my 
 esteem ! How dare you be a miracle of goodness, self- 
 denial, learning, and every virtue that a lady might 
 worship, and thank God for, when all the time you are 
 a vile, convicted — " 
 
 "I'll thank you not to say that word^" said Hazel, 
 firmly. 
 
 " I'll call you what you are, if I choose," said Helen, 
 defiantly. But for all that she did not do it. She said 
 piteously, "What offence had I ever given you? What 
 crime had I ever committed, that you must make me the 
 victim of this diabolical deceit ? Oh, ^ir, what powers 
 of mind you have wasted to achieve this victory over a 
 poor unoffending girl ! What was your motive ? What 
 good could come of it to you ? He won't speak to me. 
 He is not even penitent. Sullen and obstinate! He 
 shall be taken to England, and well punished for it. 
 Papa, it is your duty." 
 
 "Helen," said the general, "you ladies are rather too 
 fond of hitting a man when he is down. And you speak 
 daggers, as the saying is ; and then wish you had bitten 
 
FOTTL PLAT. 379 
 
 your tongue off sooner. You are my child, but you are 
 also a Britisli subject; and, if you charge me on my 
 duty to take this man to England and have him impris- 
 oned, I must. But, before you go that length, you had 
 better hear the whole story." 
 
 "Sir," said Kobert Penfold, quietly, "I will go back 
 to prison this minute, if she wishes it." 
 
 " How dare you interrupt papa ? " said Helen, haugh- 
 tily, but with a great sob. 
 
 "Come, come," said the general, "be quiet, both of 
 you, and let me say my say. (To Eobert.) You had 
 better turn your head away, for I am a straightforward 
 man, and I'm going to show her you are not a villain, 
 but a madman. This Robert Penfold wrote me a letter, 
 imploring me to find him some honest employment, how- 
 ever menial. That looked well ; and I made him my 
 gardener. He was a capital gardener ; but one fine day 
 he caught sight of you. You are a very lovely girl; 
 though you don't seem to know it; and he is a madman; 
 and he fell in love with you." Helen uttered an ejacu- 
 lation of great surprise. The general resumed, " He can 
 only have seen you at a distance, or you would recognize 
 him ; but (really it is laughable) he saw you somehow, 
 though you did not see him, and — Well, his insanity 
 hurt himself, and did not hurt you. You remember how 
 he suspected burglars, and watched night after night 
 under your window. That was out of love for you. 
 His insanity took the form of fidelity and humble devo- 
 tion. He got a wound for his pains, poor fellow ! and 
 you made Arthur Wardlaw get him a clerk's place." 
 
 " Arthur Wardlaw ! " cried Seaton. " Was it to him 
 I owed it ? " and he groaned aloud. 
 
 Said Helen, " He hates poor Arthur, his benefactor." 
 Then to Penfold, "If you are that James Seaton, you 
 received a letter from me." 
 
380 PDtTL PLAT. 
 
 " I did," said Penfold ; and putting his hand in his 
 bosom he drew out a letter and showed it to her. 
 
 " Let me see it," said Helen. 
 
 " Oh, no ! don't take this from me, too," said he, 
 piteously. 
 
 General Kolleston continued. "The day you sailed 
 he disappeared ; and I am afraid not without some wild 
 idea of being in the same ship with you. This was very 
 reprehensible. Do you hear, young man ? But what is 
 the consequence ? you get shipwrecked together, and 
 the young madman takes such care of you that I find 
 you well and hearty, and calling him your guardian 
 angel. And, another thing to his credit, he has set his 
 wits to work to restore you to the world. These ducks, 
 one of which brings me here ! Of course it was he 
 who contrived that, not you. Young man, you must 
 learn to look things in the face ; this young lady is not 
 of your sphere, to begin ; and, in the next place, she is 
 engaged to Mr. Arthur Wardlaw ; and I am come out in 
 his steamboat to take her to him. And as for you, Helen, 
 take my advice, think what most convicts are compared 
 to this one. Shut your eyes entirely to his folly, as 
 I shall ; and let you and me think only of his good 
 deeds, and so make him all the return we can. You 
 and I will go on board the steamboat directly ; and, 
 when we are there, we can tell Moreland there is some- 
 body else on the island." He then turned to Penfold, 
 and said, " My daughter and I will keep in the after-part 
 of the vessel, and anybody that likes can leave the ship 
 at Valparaiso. Helen, I know it is wrong; but what 
 can I do ? — I am so happy. You are alive and well : 
 how can I punish or afflict a human creature to-day ? 
 and, above all, how can I crush tMs unhappy young man, 
 without whom I should never have seen you again in 
 this world ? My daughter ! my dear lost child ! " aad 
 
FOUL PLAT. SSL 
 
 he held her at arm's length and gazed at her, and then 
 drew her to his bosom, and for him Eobert Penfold 
 ceased to exist, except as a man that had saved his 
 daughter. 
 
 "Papa," said Helen, after a long pause, "just make 
 him tell me why he could not trust to me. Why, he 
 passed himself off to me for a clergyman." 
 
 " I am a clergyman," said Eobert Penfold. 
 
 "Oh!" said Helen, shocked to find him so hardened, 
 as she thought. She lifted her hands to heaven, and the 
 tears streamed from her eyes. "Well, sir," said she, 
 faintly. "I see I cannot reach your conscience. One 
 question more, and then I have done with you forever. 
 Why, in all these months that we have been alone, and 
 that you have shown me the nature, I don't say of an 
 honest man, but of an angel — yes, papa, of an angel — 
 why could you not show me one humble virtue, sincerity ? 
 It belongs to a man. Why could you not say, ' I have 
 committed one crime in my life, but repented forever ; 
 judge by this confession, and by what you have seen of 
 me, whether I shall ever commit another. Take me as 
 I am, and esteem me as a penitent and more worthy 
 man ; but I will not deceive you and pass for a paragon.' 
 Why could you not say as much as this to me ? If you 
 loved me, why deceive me so cruelly ? " 
 
 These words, uttered no longer harshly, but in a 
 mournf al, faint, despairing voice, produced an effect the 
 speaker little expected. Eobert Penfold made two 
 attempts to speak, but, though he opened his mouth, 
 and his lips quivered, he could get no word out. He 
 began to choke with emotion; and, though he shed no 
 tears, the convulsion, that goes with weeping in weaker 
 natures, overpowered him in a way that was almost 
 terrible. 
 
 " Confound it ! " said General Eolleston ; " this is 
 
382 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 monstrous of you, Helen ; it is barbarous. You are not 
 like your poor mother." 
 
 She was pale and trembling, and the tears flowing; 
 but she showed her native obstinacy. She said, hoarsely, 
 "Papa, you are blind. He mws^ answer me. He knows 
 he must ! " 
 
 " I must," said Eobert Penfold, gasping still. Then 
 he manned himself by a mighty effort, and repeated 
 with dignity, " I will." 
 
 There was a pause while the young man still struggled 
 for composure and self-command. 
 
 " Was I not often on the point of telling you my sad 
 story ? Then is it fair to say that I should never have 
 told it you ? But, oh ! Miss EoUeston, you don't know 
 what agony it may be to an unfortunate man to tell the 
 truth. There are accusations so terrible, so defiling, 
 that, when a man has proved them false, they still stick 
 to him and soil him. Such an accusation I labor under, 
 and a judge and jury have branded me. If they had 
 called me a murderer I would have told you ; but that is 
 such a dirty crime. I feared the prejudices of the world. 
 I dreaded to see your face alter to me. Yes, I trembled, 
 and hesitated, and asked myself whether a man is bound 
 to repeat a foul slander against himself, even when thir- 
 teen shallow men have said it, and made the lie law." 
 
 " There," said General EoUeston, " I thought how it 
 would be, Helen ; you have tormented him into defend- 
 ing himself, tooth and nail ; so now we shall have the 
 old story ; he is innocent ; I never knew a convict that 
 wasn't, if he found a fool to listen to him. I decline to 
 hear another word; you needn't excuse yourself for 
 changing your name; I excuse it, and that is enough. 
 But the boat is waiting, and we can't stay to hear you 
 justify a felony." 
 
 " I AM NOT A FELON. I AM A MARTYR." 
 
FOUL PLAY. 383 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 EoBEHT Penpold drew himself up to his full height, 
 and uttered these strange words with a sad majesty that 
 was very imposing. But General EoUeston, steeled by ex- 
 perience of convicts, their plausibility, and their histrionic 
 powers, was staggered only for a moment. He deigned 
 no reply, but told Helen that Captain Moreland was wait- 
 ing for her, and she had better go on board at once. 
 
 She stood like a statue. 
 
 "No, papa, rU not turn my back on him till I know 
 whether he is a felon or a martyr." 
 
 "My poor child, has he caught you at once with a 
 clever phrase ? A judge and a jury have settled that." 
 
 " They settled it as you would settle it, by refusing to 
 hear me." 
 
 " Have I refused to hear you ? " said Helen. " What 
 do I care for steamboats and captains ? If I stay here to 
 all eternity, PU know from your own lips and your own 
 face, whether you are a felon or a martyr. It is no 
 phrase, papa. He is a felon, or a martyr ; and I am a 
 most unfortunate girl, or else a base, disloyal one." 
 
 " Piddle-dee," said General RoUeston, angrily. Then 
 looking at his watch: "I give you five minutes to hum- 
 bug us in — if you can." 
 
 Robert Penfold sighed patiently. But from that 
 moment he ignored General RoUeston, and looked to 
 Helen only. And she fixed her eyes upon his face with 
 a tenacity and an intensity of observation, that surpassed 
 anything he had ever seen in his life. It dazzled him ; 
 but it did not dismay him. 
 
384 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 "Miss EoUeston," said he, "my history can be told 
 in the time my prejudiced judge allows me. I am a 
 clergyman, and a private tutor at Oxford. One of my 
 pupils was — Arthur Wardlaw. I took an interest in 
 him because my father, Michael Penfold, was in Ward- 
 law's employ. This Arthur Wardlaw had a talent for 
 mimicry; he mimicked one of the college officers pub- 
 licly and offensively, and that would have ruined Ma 
 immediate prospects; for his father is just but stern. 
 I fought hard for him, and, being myself popular with 
 the authorities, I got him off. He was grateful, or 
 seemed to be, and we became greater friends than ever. 
 We confided in each other ; he told me he was in debt 
 in Oxford, and much alarmed lest it should reach his 
 father's ears, and lose him the promised partnership ; I 
 told him I was desirous to buy a small living near 
 Oxford, which was then vacant; but I had only saved 
 four hundred pounds, and the price was a thousand 
 pounds ; I had no means of raising the balance. Then 
 he said, ' Borrow two thousand pounds of my father ; give 
 me fourteen hundred of it, and take your own time to 
 repay the six hundred pounds. I shall be my father's 
 partner in a month or two,' said he; 'you can pay us 
 back by instalments.' I thought this very kind of him. 
 I did not want the living for myself, but to give my dear 
 father certain comforts, and country air every week ; he 
 needed it ; he was born in the country. Well, I came to 
 London about this business: and a stranger called on 
 me, and said he came from Mr. Arthur Wardlaw, who 
 was not well enough to come himself. He produced a 
 note of hand for two thousand pounds, signed John 
 Wardlaw, and made me indorse it, and told me where to 
 get it cashed; he would come next day for Arthur 
 Wardlaw's share of the money. Well, I suspected no 
 ill; would you? I went and got the note discounted, 
 
FOUL PLAY. 385 
 
 and locked the money up : it was not my money : the 
 greater part was Arthur Wardlaw's. That same evening 
 a policeman called, and asked several questions, which of 
 course I answered. He then got me out of the house on 
 some pretence, and arrested me as a forger." 
 
 "Oh!" cried Helen. 
 
 " I forgot the clergyman : I was a gentleman, and a 
 man, insulted, and I knocked the officer down directly. 
 But his myrmidons overpowered me. I was tried at 
 the Central Criminal Court on two charges. First, the 
 Crown (as they call the attorney that draws the indict- 
 ment) charged me with forging the note of hand ; and 
 then with not forging it, but passing it, well knowing 
 that somebody else had forged it. Well, UnderclifB, the 
 expert, swore positively that the forged note was not 
 written by me; and the Crown, as they call it, was 
 defeated on that charge ; but being proved a liar in a 
 a court of justice did not abash my accuser ; the second 
 charge was pressed with equal confidence. The note, you 
 are to understand, was forged : that admits of no doubt : 
 and I passed it ; the question was whether I passed it 
 knowing it to be forged. How was that to be deter- 
 mined? And here it was that my own familiar friend, 
 in whom I trusted, destroyed me. Of course, as soon as 
 I was put in prison, I wrote and sent to Arthur Wardlaw. 
 Would you believe it ? he would not come to me. He 
 would not even write. Then as the time drew near, I 
 feared he was a traitor. I treated him like one. I told 
 my solicitor to drag him into court as my witness, and 
 Tnake him tell the truth. The clerk went down accord- 
 ingly, and found he kept his doors always locked ; but 
 the clerk outwitted him, and served him with the 
 subpoena in his bedroom, before he could crawl under 
 the bed. But he baffled us at last : he n§ver appeared 
 in the witness-box; and, when my counsel asked the 
 25 
 
386 roxJL PLAY. 
 
 court to imprison him, his father swore he could not 
 come : he was dying, and all out of sympathy with me. 
 Pine sympathy ! that closed the lips, and concealed the 
 truth; one syllable of which would have saved his friend 
 and benefactor from a calamity worse than death. Is 
 the truth poison, that to tell it makes a sick man die ? 
 Is the truth hell, that a dying man refuses to speak it ? 
 How can a man die better than speaking the truth ? 
 How can he die worse than withholding it ? I believe 
 his sickness and his death were lies like himself. For 
 want of one word from Arthur Wardlaw, to explain that 
 I had every reason to expect a note of hand from him, 
 the jury condemned me. They were twelve honest, but 
 shallow men — invited to go inside another man's bosom 
 and guess what was there. They guessed that I knew 
 and understood a thing, which to this hour I neither 
 know nor understand, by God." 
 
 He paused a moment, then resumed, — 
 
 "I believe they founded their conjecture on my knock- 
 ing down the officer. There was a reason for you ! Why, 
 forgers and their confederates are reptiles, and have no 
 fight in them. Experience proves this. But these 
 twelve men did not go by experience. They guessed, 
 like babies, and, after much hesitation, condemned me ; 
 but recommended me to mercy. Mercy ! What mercy 
 did I deserve ? Either I was innocent, or hanging was 
 too good for me. No : in their hearts they doubted my 
 guilt ; and their doubt took that timid form, instead of 
 acquitting me. I was amazed at the verdict, and asked 
 leave to tell the judge why Arthur Wardlaw had defied 
 the court, and absented himself as my witness. Had 
 the judge listened for one minute, he would have seen I 
 was innocent. But no. I was in England, where the 
 mouth of the accused is stopped, if he is fool enough to 
 employ counsel. The judge stopped my mouth, as your 
 
FOUL PLAY. 387 
 
 father just now tried to stop it ; and they branded me 
 as a felon. 
 
 "Up to that moment my life was honorable and 
 worthy. Since that moment I have never wronged a 
 hiunan creature. Men pass from virtue to vice, from 
 vice to crime ; this is the ladder a soul goes down ; but 
 you are invited to believe that I jumped from innocence 
 into a filthy felony, and then jumped back again none 
 the worse, and was a gardener that fought for his em- 
 ployer, and a lover that controlled his passion. It is a 
 lie. A lie that ought not to take in a child. But preju- 
 dice degrades a man below the level of a child. I'll 
 say no more : my patience is exhausted by wrongs and 
 insults. I am as honest a man as ever breathed, and the 
 place where we stand is mine, for I made it. Leave it and 
 me this moment. Go to England, and leave me where 
 the animals, more reasonable than you, have the sense 
 to see my real character. I'll not sail in the same ship 
 with any man, nor any woman either, who can look me 
 in the face, and take me for a felon." 
 
 He swelled alid towered with the just wrath of an 
 honest man driven to bay ; and his eye shot black light- 
 ning. He was sublime. 
 
 Helen cowered ; but her spirited old father turned red, 
 and said, haughtily, "We take you at your word, and 
 leave you, you insolent vagabond. Follow me this in- 
 stant, Helen ! " 
 
 And he marched out of the cavern in a fury. 
 
 But, instead of following him, Helen stood stock-still 
 and cowered, and cowered till she seemed sinking for- 
 ward to the ground, and she got hold of Eobert Penfold's 
 hand, and kissed it, and moaned over it. 
 
 " Martyr ! Martyr ! " she whispered, and still kissed 
 his hand, like a slave offering her master pity, and ask- 
 ing pardon. 
 
388 FOTJL PLAY. 
 
 "Martyr! Martyr! Every word is true — true as 
 my love." 
 
 In this attitude, and with these words on her lips, 
 they were surprised by General RoUeston, who came 
 back, astonished at his daughter not following him. 
 Judge of his amazement now. 
 
 " What does this mean ? " he cried, turning pale with 
 anger. 
 
 " It means that he has spoken the truth, and that I 
 shall imitate him. He is my martyr and my love. When 
 others cast shame on you, then it is time for me to show 
 my heart. James Seaton, I love you for your madness, 
 and your devotion to her whom you had only seen at a 
 distance. Ah I that was love. John Hazel, I love you 
 for all that has passed between us. What can any other 
 man be to me ? or woman to you ? But most of all, I 
 love you, Eobert Penfold, — my hero and my martyr. 
 When I am told to your face that you are a felon, then 
 to your face I say you are my idol, my hero, and my 
 martyr. Love ! the word is too tame, too common. I 
 worship you : I adore you. How beautiful you are when 
 you are angry ! How noble you are now you forgive me ; 
 for you do forgive me, Eobert; you must, you shall. 
 No ; you will not send your Helen away from you, for 
 her one fault so soon repented. Show me you forgive 
 me; show me you love me still, almost as much as I love 
 you. He is crying. Oh, my darling ! my darling ! my 
 darling ! " And she was round his neck in a moment, 
 with tears and tender kisses, the first she had ever given 
 him. 
 
 Ask yourself whether they were returned. 
 
 A groan, or rather we might say, a snort of fury, inter- 
 rupted the most blissful moment either of these young 
 creatures had ever known. It came from General E.0I- 
 leston, now white with wrath and horror. 
 
POTIL PLAT. 389 
 
 "You villain ! " lie cried. 
 
 Helen threw herself upon him, and put her hand 
 before his mouth. 
 
 "Not a word more, or I shall forget I am your daugh- 
 ter. No one is to blame but I. I love him. I made 
 him love me. He has been trying hard not to love me 
 so much. But I am a woman ; and could not deny my- 
 self the glory and the joy of being loved better than 
 woman was ever loved before. And so I am ; I am. Kill 
 me, if you like ; insult me, if you will : but not a word 
 against him, or I give him my hand, and we live and die 
 together on this island. Oh, papa ! he has often saved 
 that life you value so ; and I have saved his. He is all 
 the world to me. Have pity on your child ! Have pity 
 on him who carries my heart in his bosom ! " 
 
 She flung herself on her knees, and strained him tight, 
 and implored him, with head thrown back, and little 
 clutching hands, and eloquent eyes. 
 
 Ah ! it is hard to resist the voice and look and cling- 
 ing of a man's own flesh and blood. Children are so 
 strong — upon their knees : their dear faces, bright copies 
 of our own, are just the height of our hearts then. 
 
 The old man was staggered, was almost melted. " Give 
 me a moment to think," said he, in a broken voice. 
 " This blow takes my breath away." 
 
 Helen rose and laid her head upon her father's shoul- 
 der, and still pleaded for her love by her soft touch and 
 her tears that now flowed freely. 
 
 He turned to Penfold with all the dignity of age and 
 station. " Mr. Penfold," said he, with grave politeness, 
 "after what my daughter has said, I must treat you as a 
 man of honor, or I must insult her. Well then, I expect 
 you to show me you are what she thinks you, and are not 
 what a court of justice has proclaimed you. Sir, this 
 young lady is engaged with her own free will to a gen- 
 
390 POTTL PLAT. 
 
 tleman who is universally esteemed, and has never been 
 accused to his face of an unworthy act. Relying on her 
 plighted word, the Wardlaws have fitted out a steamer 
 and searched the Pacific, and found her. Can you, as a 
 man of honor, advise her to stay here and compromise 
 her own honor in every way ? Ought she to break faith 
 with her betrothed on account of vague accusations made 
 behind his back ? " 
 
 "It was only in self-defence I accused Mr. Arthur 
 Wardlaw," said Robert Penfold. 
 
 General RoUeston resumed. 
 
 " You said just now there are accusations which soil 
 a man. If you were in my place, would you let your 
 daughter marry a man of honor, who had unfortunately 
 been found guilty of a felony ? " 
 
 Robert groaned and hesitated, but he said, " No." 
 
 " Then what is to be done ? She must either keep her 
 plighted word, or else break it. Por whom ? For a gen- 
 tleman she esteems and loves, but cannot marry. A leper 
 may be a saint ; but I would rather bury my child than 
 marry her to a leper. A convict may be a saint ; but 
 I'll kill her with my own hand sooner than she shall 
 marry a convict : and in your heart and conscience you 
 cannot blame me. Were you a father you would do the 
 same. What then remains for her and me, but to keep 
 faith ; and what can you do better, than leave her, and 
 carry away her everlasting esteem and her father's grati- 
 tude? It is no use being good by halves, or bad by 
 halves. You must either be a selfish villain, and urge 
 her to abandon all shame and live here on this island 
 with you forever, or you must be a brave and honest 
 man, and bow to a parting that is inevitable. Consider, 
 sir; your eloquence and her pity have betrayed this 
 young lady into a confession that separates you. Her 
 enforced residence here with you has been innocent. It 
 
FOtTL PLAT. 391 
 
 ■would be innocent no longer, now she lias been so mad 
 as to own she loves you. And I tell you frankly, if after 
 that confession, you insist on going on board the steamer 
 with her, I must take you ; humanity requires it ; but if 
 I do, I shall hand you over to the law as a convict escaped 
 before his time. Perhaps I ought to do so as it is ; but 
 that is not certain : I don't know to what country this 
 island belongs ; I may have no right to capture you in 
 strange dominions ; but an English ship is England, — 
 and if you set your foot on the Springbok you are lost. 
 Now then, you are a man of honor ; you love my child 
 truly, and not selfishly ; you have behaved nobly until 
 to-day; go one step farther on the right road: call 
 worldly honor, and the God whose vows you have taken, 
 sir, to your aid, and do your duty." 
 
 "Oh, man! man!" cried Robert Penfold, "you ask 
 more of me than flesh and blood can bear. What shall 
 I say ? What shaU I do ? " 
 
 Helen replied, calmly : " Take my hand, and let us 
 die together, since we cannot live together with honor." 
 
 General RoUeston groaned. " For this, then, I have 
 traversed one ocean, and searched another, and found 
 my child. I am nothing to her — nothing. Oh, who 
 would be a father ! " He sat down oppressed with shame 
 and grief, and bowed his stately head in manly but 
 pathetic silence. 
 
 "Oh, papa! papa!" cried Helen, "forgive your un- 
 grateful child ! " and she kneeled and sobbed, with her 
 forehead on his knees. 
 
 Then Robert Penfold, in the midst of his own agony^ 
 found room in that great suffering heart of his for pity. 
 He knelt down himself, and prayed for help in this 
 bitter trial. He rose haggard with the struggle, but 
 languid and resigned, like one whose death-warrant has 
 been read. 
 
392 FOtTL PLAT. 
 
 " Sir," said he, " there is but one way. You must take 
 her home ; and I shall stay here." 
 
 " Leave you all alone on this island ! " said Helen. 
 "Never! If you stay here, I shall stay to comfort you." 
 
 "I decline that offer. I am beyond the reach of 
 comfort." 
 
 "Think what you do, Eobert," said Helen, with 
 unnatural calmness. " If you have no pity on yourself, 
 have pity on us. Would you rob me of the very life 
 you have taken such pains to save ? My poor father 
 will carry nothing to England but my dead body. Long 
 before we reach that country I loved so well, and now 
 hate it for its stupidity and cruelty to you, my soul will 
 have flown back to this island to watch over you, Eobert. 
 You bid me abandon you to solitude and despair. Neither 
 of you two love me half as much as I love you both." 
 
 General RoUeston sighed deeply. " If I thought that," 
 said he — then in a faint voice, " my own courage fails 
 me now. I look into my heart, and I see my child's life 
 is dearer to me than all the world. She was dying, they 
 say. Suppose I send Moreland to the continent for a 
 clergyman, and marry you. Then you can live on this 
 island forever. Only you must let me live here too : for 
 I could never show my face again in England after acting 
 so dishonorably. It will be a miserable end of a life 
 passed in honor ; but I suppose it will not be for long. 
 Shame can kill as quickly as disappointed love." 
 
 " Eobert ! Eobert ! " cried Helen in agony. 
 
 The martyr saw that he was master of the situation, 
 and must be either base or very noble — there was no 
 middle way. He leaned his head on his hands, and 
 thought with all his might. 
 
 "Hush ! " said Helen : "he is wiser than we are. Let 
 him speak." 
 
 " If I thought you would pine and die upon the voyage, 
 
FOUL PI^Y. 393 
 
 no power should part us. But you are not such a coward. 
 If my life depended on yours, would you not live ? " 
 
 " You know I would." 
 
 " When I was wrecked on White Water Island, you 
 played the man. Not one woman in a thousand could 
 have launched a boat, and sailed it with a boat-hook for 
 a mast, and — " 
 
 Helen interrupted him. "It was nothing; I loved 
 you. I love you better now." 
 
 " I believe it, and therefore I ask you to rise above 
 your sex once more, and play the man for me. This time 
 it is not my life you are to rescue, but that which is more 
 precious still : my good name." 
 
 " Ah ! that would be worth living for," cried Helen. 
 
 " You will find it very hard to do ; but not harder for 
 a woman, than to launch a boat, and sail her without a 
 mast. See my father, Michael Penfold. See UndercUff,, 
 the expert. See the solicitor — the counsel. Sift the 
 whole story ; and above all, find out why Arthur Wardlaw 
 dared not enter the witness-box. Be obstinate as a man ; 
 be supple as a woman ; and don't talk of dying, when 
 there is a friend to be rescued from dishonor by living 
 and working." 
 
 "Die ! while I can rescue you from death or dishonor! 
 I will not be so base. Ah, Robert, Robert, how well you 
 know me ! " 
 
 "Yes, I do know you, Helen. I believe that great 
 soul of yours will keep your body strong to do this 
 great work for him you love, and who loves you. And 
 as for me, I am man enough to live for years upon this 
 island, if you will only promise me two things." 
 
 " I promise, then." 
 
 " Never to die, and never to marry Arthur Wardlaw, 
 until you have reversed that lying sentence which has 
 blasted me. Lay your hand on your father's head, and 
 promise me that." 
 
394 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Helen laid her hand upon her father's head, and 
 said, " I pledge my honor not to die, if life is pos- 
 sible, and never to marry any man, until I have reversed 
 that lying sentence, which has blasted the angel I 
 love." 
 
 "And I pledge myself to help her," said General 
 Eolleston, warmly, " for now I know you are a man of 
 honor. I have too often been deceived by eloquence to 
 listen much to that. But now you have proved by your 
 actions what you are. You, pass a forged check, know- 
 ing it to be forged ! I'd stake my salvation it's a lie. 
 There's my hand. God comfort you ! God reward you, 
 my noble fellow ! " 
 
 " I hope He will, sir," sobbed Robert Penfold. " You 
 are her father ; and you take my hand ; perhaps that 
 will be sweet to think of by-and-by; but no joy can 
 enter my heart now ; it is broken. Take her away at 
 once, sir. Flesh is weak. My powers of endurance are 
 exhausted." 
 
 General Eolleston acted promptly on this advice. He 
 rolled up her rugs, and the things she had made, and 
 Robert had the courage to take them down to the boat. 
 Then he came back, and the general took her bag to the 
 boat. 
 
 All this time the girl herself sat wringing her 
 hands in anguish, and not a tear. It was beyond that 
 now. 
 
 As he passed Robert, the general said, " Take leave of 
 her alone. I will come for her in five minutes. You 
 see, how sure I feel you are a man of honor." 
 
 When Robert went in, she rose and tottered to him, 
 and fell on his neck. She saw it was the death-bed of 
 their love, and she kissed his eyes, and clung to him. 
 They moaned over each other, and clung to each other, 
 in mute despair. 
 
FOtrii PLAT. 395 
 
 The general came back, and he and Eobert took Helen, 
 shivering and fainting, to the boat. As the boat put 
 off, she awoke from her stupor, and put out her hands to 
 Robert with one piercing cry. 
 
 They were parted. 
 
396 I'OUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE L. 
 
 In that curious compound the human heart, a respect- 
 ahle motive is sometimes connected with a criminal act. 
 And it was so with Joseph Wylie ; he had formed an 
 attachment to Nancy Rouse, and her price was two 
 thousand pounds. 
 
 This Nancy Eouse was a character. She was General 
 Eolleston's servant for many years ; her place was the 
 kitchen ; but she was a woman of such restless activity, 
 and so wanting in the proper pride of a servant, that she 
 would help a housemaid, or a lady's maid, or do anything 
 almost, except be idle. To use her own words, she was 
 one as couldn't abide to sit mumchance. That fatal foe 
 to domestic industry, the London Journal, fluttered in 
 vain down her area, for she could not read. She sup- 
 ported a sick mother out of her wages, aided by a few 
 presents of money and clothes from Helen EoUeston, 
 who had a great regard for Nancy, and knew what a hard 
 fight she had to keep a sick woman out of her twenty 
 pounds a year. 
 
 In love, Nancy was unfortunate ; her buxom looks, and 
 sterling virtues, were balanced by a provoking sagacity, 
 and an irritating habit of speaking her mind. She 
 humbled her lovers' vanity one after another, and they 
 fled. Her heart smarted more than once. 
 
 Nancy was ambitious ; and her first rise in life took 
 place as follows : When the EoUestons went to Australia, 
 she had a good cry at parting with Helen ; but there was 
 no help for it, she could not leave her mother. However, 
 she told Helen she could not stomach any other service, 
 
POTJIi PLAY. 397 
 
 and, since she must be parted, was resolved to better her- 
 self. This phrase is sometimes drolly applied by servants, 
 because they throw Independence into the scale. In 
 Nancy's case it meant setting up as a washerwoman. 
 Helen opened her hazel eyes with astonishment at this, 
 the first round in the ladder of Nancy's ambition ; how- 
 ever, she gave her ten pounds; and thirty introductions, 
 twenty-five of which missed fire, and with the odd five 
 Nancy set up her tub in the suburbs, and by her industry, 
 geniality, and frugality, got on tolerably well. In due 
 course she rented a small house backed by a small green, 
 and advertised for a gentleman lodger. She soon got 
 one ; and soon got rid of him. However, she was never 
 long without one. 
 
 Nancy met Joseph Wylie in company ; and, as sailors 
 are brisk wooers, he soon became her acknowledged suitor, 
 and made some inroad into her heart, though she kept on 
 the defensive, warned by past experience. 
 
 Wylie's love-making had a droll feature about it; it 
 was most of it carried on in the presence of three washer- 
 women, because Nancy had no time to spare from her 
 work, and Wylie had no time to lose in his wooing, being 
 on shore for a limited period. And this absence of super- 
 fluous delicacy on his part gave him an unfair advan- 
 tage over the tallowchandler's foreman, his only rival at 
 present. Many a sly thrust, and many a hearty laugh, 
 from his female auditors, greeted his amorous eloquence ; 
 but, for all that, they sided with him, and Nancy felt her 
 importance, and brightened along with her mates at the 
 sailor's approach, which was generally announced by a 
 cheerful hail. He was good company, to use Nancy's 
 own phrase, and she accepted him as a s^veetheart on 
 probation. But, when Mr. Wylie urged her to marry 
 him, she demurred, and gave a string of reasons, all of 
 which the sailor and his allies, the subordinate washei> 
 women, combated in full conclave. 
 
398 FOUIi PLAY. 
 
 Then she spoke out, "My lad, the wash-tub is a saddle 
 as woii't carigr double. I've seen poverty enough in my 
 mother's house, it sha'n't come in at my door to drive 
 love out o' window. Two comes together with just enough 
 for two ; next year instead of two they are three, and one 
 of the three can't work and wants a servant extra, and by 
 and by there is half a dozen, and the money coming in at 
 the spigot and going out at the bung-hole." 
 
 One day, in the middle of his wooing, she laid down 
 her iron, and said, "You come along with me. And I 
 wonder how much work will be done whilst my back is 
 turned, for you three gabbling and wondering whatever 
 I'm going to do with this here sailor." 
 
 She took Wylie a few yards down the street, and 
 showed him a large house with most of the windows 
 broken. "There," said she, "there's a sight for a sear 
 faring man. That's in chancery." 
 
 "Well, it's better to be there than in H ," said 
 
 Wylie, meaning to be sharp. 
 " " Wait till you've tried 'em both," said Nancy. 
 
 Then she took him to the back of the house, and 
 showed him a large garden attached to it. 
 
 " Now, Joseph," said she, " I've showed you a lodging- 
 house and a drying-ground ; and I'm a cook and a clear 
 stareher, and I'm wild to keep lodgers and do for 'em, 
 washing and all. Then, if their foul linen goes out, 
 they follows it: the same if they has their meat from 
 the cook-shop. Four hundred pounds a year lies there 
 a-waiting for me. I've been at them often to let me 
 them premises ; but they says no, we have got no border 
 from the court to let. Which the court would rather see 
 'em go to rack and ruin for nothing, than let 'em to an 
 honest woman as would pay the rent punctual, and make 
 her penny out of 'em, and nobody none the worse. And 
 to sell them, the price is two thousand pounds, and if I 
 
FOUL PI.AY. 399 
 
 had it I'd give it this minnit ; but where are the likes of 
 you and me to get two thousand pounds ? But the lawyer 
 he says, ' Miss Rouse, from you one thousand down, and 
 the rest on mortgige at forty-five pounds the year,' which 
 it is dirt cheap, I say. So now, my man, when that house 
 is mine, I'm yours. I'm putting by for it o' my side. 
 If you means all you say, why not save a bit o' yours ? 
 Once I get that house and garden, you needn't go to sea 
 no more : nor you sha'n't. If I am to be bothered with 
 a man, let me know where to put my finger on him at 
 all hours, and not lie shivering and shaking at every 
 window as creaks, and him out at sea. And if you are 
 too proud to drive the linen in a light cart, why I could 
 pay a man." In short, she told him plainly she would 
 not marry till she was above the world ; and the road to 
 above the world was through that great battered house 
 and seedy garden, in chancery. 
 
 Now it may appear a strange coincidence that Nancy's 
 price to Wylie was two thousand pounds, and Wylie's to 
 Wardlaw was two thousand pounds ; but the fact is, ifr 
 was a forced coincidence. Wylie, bargaining with Ward- 
 law, stood out for two thousand pounds, because that was 
 the price of the house and garden and Nancy. 
 
 Now when Wylie returnd to England safe after his 
 crime and his perils, he comforted himself with the 
 reflection that Nancy would have her house and garden, 
 and he should have Nancy. 
 
 But young Wardlaw lay on his sick bed; his father 
 was about to return to the office, and the gold disguised 
 as copper was ordered up to the cellars in Fenchurch 
 Street. There, in all probability, the contents would be 
 examined ere long, the fraud exposed, and other unpleas- 
 ant consequences might follow over and above the loss 
 of the promised two thousand pounds. 
 
 Wylie felt very disconsolate, and went down to Nancy 
 
400 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Eouse depressed in spirits. To his surprise she received 
 him with more afEection than ever, and, reading his face 
 in a moment, told him not to fret. 
 
 " It will be so in your way of life," said this homely 
 comforter; "your sort comes home empty-handed one 
 day, and money in both pockets the next. I'm glad to 
 see you home at all, for I've been in care about you. 
 You're very welcome, Joe. If you are come home honest 
 and sober, why that is the next best thing to coming 
 home rich." 
 
 Wylie hung his head and pondered these words ; and 
 well he might, for he had not come home either so sober 
 or so honest as he went out, but quite as poor. 
 
 However his elastic spirits soon revived in Nancy's 
 sunshine, and he became more in love with her than 
 ever. 
 
 But when, presuming upon her afEection, he urged her 
 to marry him, and trust to Providence, she laughed in 
 his face. 
 
 "Trust to himprovidence you mean," said she; "no, 
 no, Joseph. If you are unlucky, I must be lucky, before 
 you and me can come together." 
 
 Then Wylie resolved to have his two thousand pounds 
 at all risks. He had one great advantage over a lands- 
 man who has committed a crime ; he could always go to 
 sea, and find employment, first in one ship and then in 
 another. Terra firma was not one of the necessaries of 
 life to him. 
 
 He came to Wardlaw's office to feel his way, and 
 talked guardedly to Michael Penfold about the loss of 
 the Proserpine. His apparent object was to give infor- 
 mation, his real object was to gather it. He learned that 
 old Wardlaw was very much occupied with fitting out a 
 steamer, that the forty chests of copper had actually come 
 up from the Shannon and were under their feet at that 
 
FOTJL PLAY. 401 
 
 moment, and that young Wardlaw was desperately ill, 
 and never came to the office. Michael had not at that 
 time learned the true cause of young Wardlaw's illness. 
 Yet Wylie detected that young Wardlaw's continued 
 absence from the office gave Michael singular uneasiness. 
 The old man fidgeted, and washed the air with his hands, 
 and with simple cunning urged Wylie to go and see him 
 about the Proserpine, and get him to the office, if it was 
 only for an hour or two. " Tell him we are all sixes and 
 sevens, Mr. Wylie ; all at sixes and sevens." 
 
 "Well," said Wylie, affecting a desire to oblige, "give 
 me a line to him, for I've been twice and could never 
 get in." 
 
 Michael wrote an earnest line to say that Wardlaw 
 senior had been hitherto much occupied in fitting out 
 the Springbok, but that he was going into the books next 
 week. What was to be done ? 
 
 The note was received ; but Arthur declined to see the 
 bearer. Then Wylie told the servant it was Joseph 
 Wylie, on a matter of life and death. " Tell him I must 
 stand on the staircase and hallo it out, if he won't hear 
 it any other way." 
 
 This threat obtained his admission to Arthur Wardlaw. 
 The sailor found him on a sofa in a darkened room, pale 
 and worn to a shadow. 
 
 "Mr. Wardlaw," said Wylie, firmly, "you mustn't 
 think I don't feel for you ; but, sir, we are gone too far 
 to stop, you and me. There are two sides to this busi- 
 ness ; it is a hundred and fifty thousand pounds for you, 
 and two thousand pounds for me, or it is — " 
 
 "What do I care for money now ? " groaned Wardlaw. 
 "Let it all go to the devil, who tempted me to destroy 
 her I loved better than money, better than all the world." 
 
 " Well, but hear me out," said Wylie. " I say it is a 
 hundred and fifty thousand pounds to you, and two thou- 
 26 
 
402 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 sand pounds to me, or else it is twenty years' penal 
 servitude to both on us." 
 
 " Penal servitude ! " And the words roused the mer- 
 chant from his lethargy like a shower-bath. 
 
 "You know that well enough," said Wylie, "Why, 
 'twas a hanging matter a few years ago. Come, come, 
 there are no two ways : you must be a man, or we are 
 undone." 
 
 Fear prevailed in that timorous breast, which even 
 love of money had failed to rouse. Wardlaw sat up, 
 staring wildly, and asked Wylie what he was to do. 
 
 " First let me ring for a bottle of that old brandy of 
 yours." 
 
 The brandy was got. Wylie induced him to drink a 
 wineglassful neat, and then to sit at the table, and 
 examine the sailors' declaration and the log. " I'm no 
 great scholard," said he. " I warn't argoing to lay these 
 before the underwriters, till you had overhauled them. 
 There, take another drop now, — 'twill do you good, — 
 while I draw up this thundering blind." 
 
 Thus encouraged and urged, the broken-hearted schemer 
 languidly compared the' seaman's declaration with the 
 log ; and, even in his feeble state of mind and body, 
 made an awkward discovery at once. 
 
 " Why, they don't correspond," said he. 
 
 " What don't correspond ? " 
 
 " Your men's statement and the ship's log. The men 
 speak of one heavy gale after another, in January, and 
 the pumps going; but the log says, 'A puff of wind 
 from the N.E.' And here, again, the entry exposes your 
 exaggeration ; one branch of our evidence contradicts the 
 other. This comes of trying to prove too much. You 
 must say the log was lost : went down with the ship." 
 
 " How can I ? " cried Wylie. " I have told too many 
 I had got it safe at home." 
 
FOOTi PLAT. iOS 
 
 " Why did you say that ? "What madness ! " 
 
 " Why were you away from your office at such a time ? 
 How can I know everything, and do everything? I 
 counted on you for the head-work ashore. Can't ye 
 think of any way to square the log to that part of our 
 tale ? Might paste in a leaf or two, eh ? " 
 
 " That would be discovered at once. You have com- 
 mitted an irremediable error. What broad strokes this 
 Hudson makes ! He must have written with the stump 
 of a quill." 
 
 Wylie received this last observation with a look of 
 contempt for the mind that could put so trivial a ques- 
 tion in so great an emergency. 
 
 " Are you quite sure poor Hudson is dead ? " asked 
 Wardlaw, in a low voice. 
 
 " Dead ! Don't I tell you I saw him die ! " said Wylie, 
 trembling all of a sudden. 
 
 He took a glass of brandy, and sent it flying down his 
 throat. 
 
 " Leave the paper with me," said Arthur, languidly, 
 "and tell Penfold I'll crawl to the office to-morrow. 
 You can meet me there. I shall see nobody else." 
 
 Wylie called next day at the office, and was received 
 by Penfold, who had now learned the cause of Arthur's 
 g^ief, and ushered the visitor in to him with looks of 
 benevolent concern. Arthur was seated like a lunatic, 
 pale and motionless. On the table before him was a 
 roast fowl and a salad, which he had forgotten to eat. 
 His mind appeared to alternate between love and fraud, 
 for, as soon as he saw Wylie, he gave himself a sort of 
 a shake, and handed Wylie the log and the papers. 
 
 " Examine them. They agree better with each other 
 now." 
 
 Wylie examined the log, and started with surprise and 
 superstitious terror. "Why, Hiram's ghost has been 
 
404 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 here at work!" said he. "It is his very handwrit- 
 ing." 
 
 " Hush ! " said Wardlaw ; " not so loud. Will it do ? " 
 
 " The writing will do first-rate ; but any one can see 
 this log has never been to sea." 
 
 Inspired by the other's ingenuity, he then, after a 
 moment's reflection, emptied the salt-cellar into a plate, 
 and poured a little water over it. He wetted the leaves 
 of the log with this salt water, and dog's-eared the whole 
 book. 
 
 Wardlaw sighed. " See what expedients we are driven 
 to," said he. He then took a little soot from the chimney, 
 and mixed it with salad-oil. He applied some of this 
 mixture to the parchment cover, rubbed it off, and, by 
 much manipulation, gave it a certain mellow look, as if 
 it had been used by working-hands. 
 
 Wylie was armed with these materials, and furnished 
 with money to keep his sailors to their tale, in case of 
 their being examined. 
 
 Arthur begged, in his present afliction, to be excused 
 from going personally into the matter of the Proserpine ; 
 and said that Penfold had the ship's log, and the declara- 
 tion of the survivors, which the insurers could inspect, 
 previously to their being deposited at Lloyds'. 
 
 The whole thing wore an excellent face, and nobody 
 found a peg to hang suspicion on so far. 
 
 After this preliminary, and the deposit of the papers, 
 nothing was hurried. The merchant, absorbed in his 
 grief, seemed to be forgetting to ask for his money. 
 Wylie remonstrated; but Arthur convinced him they 
 were still on too ticklish ground to show any hurry, 
 without exciting suspicion. 
 
 And so passed two weary months, during which Wylie 
 fell out of Nancy Rouse's good graces for idling about 
 doing nothing. 
 
rOUL PLAY. 405 
 
 "Be you arwaiting for tlie plum to fall into your 
 mouth, young man ? " said she. 
 
 The demand was made on the underwriters, and Arthur 
 contrived that it should come from his father. The firm 
 was of excellent repute, and had paid hundreds of 
 insurances without a loss to the underwriters. The 
 Proserpine had foundered at sea. Several lives had been 
 lost ; and of the survivors, one had since died, owing to 
 the hardships he had endured. All this betokened a 
 genuine calamity. Nevertheless, one ray of suspicion 
 rested on the case at first. The captain of the Proser- 
 pine had lost a great many ships; and, on the first 
 announcement, one or two were resolved to sift the 
 matter on that ground alone. But, when five eye-wit- 
 nesses, suppressing. all mention of the word "drink," 
 declared that Captain Hudson had refused to leave the 
 vessel, and described his going down with the ship, from 
 an obstinate and too exalted sense of duty, every chink 
 was closed; and, to cut the matter short, the insurance 
 money was paid to the last shilling, and Benson, one 
 of the small underwriters, ruined. Nancy Rouse, who 
 worked for Mrs. Benson, lost eighteen shillings and six- 
 pence, and was dreadfully put out about it. 
 
 WyUe heard her lamentations, and grinned ; for now 
 his two thousand pounds was as good as in his pocket, 
 he thought. Great was his consternation when Arthur 
 told him that every shilling of the money was forestalled, 
 and that the entire profit of the transaction was yet to 
 come ; viz., by the sale of the gold-dust. 
 
 "Then sell it," said Wylie. 
 
 "I dare not. The affair must cool down before I can 
 appear as a seller of gold : and even then, I must dribble 
 it out with great caution. Thank Heaven it is no longer 
 in those cellars ! " 
 
 "Where is it, then?" 
 
406 FOTTIi PLAY. 
 
 "That is my secret. You will get your two thousand 
 all in good time ; and, if it makes you one-tenth part as 
 wretched as it has made me, you will thank me for all 
 these delays." 
 
 At last Wylie lost all patience, and began to show his 
 teeth; and then Arthur Wardlaw paid him his two 
 thousand pounds in forty crisp notes. 
 
 He crammed them into a side pocket, and went down 
 triumphant to Nancy Eouse. Through her parlor window 
 he saw the benign countenance of Michael Penf old. He 
 then remembered Penfold had told him, some time 
 before, that he was going to lodge with her, as soon as 
 the present lodger should go. 
 
 This, however, rather interrupted Wylie's design of 
 walking in and chucking the two thousand pounds into 
 Nancy's lap. On the contrary, he shoved them deeper 
 down in his pocket, and resolved to see the old gentle- 
 man to bed, and then produce his pelf, and fix the 
 wedding-day with Nancy. 
 
 He came in, and found her crying, and Penfold making 
 weak efforts to console her. The tea-things were on the 
 table, and Nancy's cup half emptied. 
 
 Wylie came in and said, "Why, what is the matter 
 now ? " 
 
 He said this mighty cheerfully, as one who carried 
 the panacea for all ills in his pocket, and a medicine 
 peculiarly suited to Nancy Eouse's constitution. But 
 he had not quite fathomed her yet. 
 
 As soon as ever she saw him she wiped her eyes, and 
 asked him, grimly, what he wanted there, Wylie stared 
 at the reception, but replied, stoutly, that it was pretty 
 well known by this time what he wanted in that quarter. 
 
 " Well, then," said Nancy, " want will be your master. 
 Why did you never tell me Miss Helen was in that ship ? 
 my sweet, dear mistress as waSj that I feel for like a 
 
FOtrii piiAY. 407 
 
 motlier. You left her to drown, and saved your own 
 great useless carcass, and drownded she is, poor dear. 
 Get out o' my sight, do." 
 
 "It wasn't my fault, Nancy," said Wylie, earnestly. 
 "I didn't know who she was, and I advised her to 
 come with us; but she woiild go with that parson 
 chap." 
 
 " What parson chap ? What a liar you be ! She is 
 Wardlaw's sweetheart, and don't care for no parsons. 
 If you didn't know who was to blame, why dida't you 
 tell me a word of your own accord ? You kept dark. 
 Do you call yourself a man, to leave my poor young lady 
 to shift for herself ? " 
 
 "She had as good a chance to live as I had," said 
 Wylie, sullenly. 
 
 "No, she hadn't; you took care o' yourself. Well, 
 since you are so fond of yourself, keep yourself to your- 
 self, and don't come here no more. After this, I hate 
 the sight on ye. You are like the black dog in my eyes, 
 and always will be. Poor, dear Miss Helen! Ah, I 
 cried when she left — my mind misgave me ; but little 
 I thought she would perish in the salt seas, and all for 
 want of a man in the ship. If you had gone out again 
 after in the steamboat — Mr. Penf old have told me all 
 about it — I'd believe you weren't so much to blame. 
 But no ; lolloping and looking about all day for months. 
 There's my door, Joe Wylie; I can't cry comfortable 
 before you, as had a hand in drownding of her. You 
 and me is parted forever. FU die as I am, or I'll marry 
 a man ; which you ain't one, nor nothing like one. Is 
 he waiting for you to hold the door open, Mr. Penfolds ? 
 or don't I speak plain enough ? Them as I gave the sack 
 to afore you didn't want so much telling." 
 
 "Well, I'm going," said Wylie, sullenly; then, with 
 ■considerable feeling, " This is hard lines." 
 
408 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 But Nancy was inexorable, and turned him out, with, 
 the two thousand pounds in his pocket. 
 
 He took the notes out, and flung them furiously down 
 in the dirt. 
 
 Then he did what everybody does under similar cir- 
 cumstances : he picked them up again, and pocketed them 
 along with the other dirt they had gathered. 
 
 Next day he went down to the docks, and looked out 
 for a ship ; he soon got one, and signed as second mate. 
 She was to sail in a fortnight. 
 
 But, before a week was out, the banknotes had told so 
 upon him, that he was no longer game to go to sea. 
 But the captain he had signed with was a Tartar, and 
 not to be trifled with. He consulted a knowing friend, 
 and that friend advised him to disguise himself till the 
 ship had sailed. Accordingly, he rigged himself out 
 with a long coat, and a beard, and spectacles, and hid 
 his searslouch as well as he could, and changed his lodg- 
 ings. Finding he succeeded so well, he thought he 
 might as well have the pleasure of looking at Nancy 
 Eouse, if he could not talk to her. So he actually 
 had the hardihood to take the parlor next door; and 
 by this means he heard her move about in her room, 
 and caught a sight of her at work on her little green ; 
 and he was shrewd enough to observe she did not sing 
 and whistle as she used to do. The dog chuckled at 
 that. 
 
 His banknotes worried him night and day. He was 
 afraid to put them in a bank, afraid to take them about 
 with him into his haunts ; afraid to leave them at home ; 
 and out of his perplexity arose some incidents worth 
 relating in their proper order. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw returned to business, but he was a 
 changed man. All zest in the thing was gone. His 
 
FOTTL PIAY. 409 
 
 fraud set him above the world, and that was now enough 
 for him, in whom ambition was dead, and, indeed, noth- 
 ing left alive in him but deep regrets. 
 
 He drew in the horns of speculation, and went on in 
 the old safe routine; and to the restless activity that 
 had jeopardized the firm, succeeded a strange torpidity. 
 He wore black for Helen, and sorrowed without hope. 
 He felt he had offended Heaven, and had met his pun- 
 ishment in Helen's death. 
 
 Wardlaw senior retired to Ehntrees, and seldom saw 
 his son. When they did meet, the old man sometimes 
 whispered hope, but the whisper was faint and unheeded. 
 
 One day Wardlaw senior came up express, to commu- 
 nicate a letter to Arthur from General EoUeston, written 
 at Valparaiso. In this letter General Eolleston deplored 
 his unsuccessful search, but said he was going westward, 
 upon the report of a Dutch whaler, who had seen an 
 island reflected in the sky, while sailing between Juan 
 Fernandez and Norfolk Isle. 
 
 Arthur only shook his head with a ghastly smile. 
 " Slie is in heaven," said he, " and I shall never see her 
 again, neither here nor hereafter." 
 
 Wardlaw senior was shocked at this speech, but he 
 made no reply. He pitied his son too much to criticise 
 the expressions into which his bitter grief betrayed him. 
 He was old, and had seen the triumphs of time over all 
 things human, sorrow included. These, however, as yet, 
 had done nothing for Arthur Wardlaw. At the end of 
 six months his grief was as sombre and as deadly as the 
 first week. 
 
 But one day, as this pale figure in deep mourning sat 
 at his table, going listlessly and mechanically through 
 the business of scraping money together for others to 
 enjoy, whose hearts, unlike his, might not be in the 
 grave, his father burst in upon him, with a telegram in 
 
410 FOUIi PLAT. 
 
 His hand, and waved it over his head in triumph. " She 
 is found ! she is found ! " he roared : " read that I " and 
 thrust the telegram into his hands. 
 
 Those hands trembled, and the languid voice rose into 
 shrieks of astonishment and delight, as Arthur read the 
 words, "We have got her alive and well: shall be at 
 Charing Cross Hotel, 8 p.m." 
 
rOXTL PLAT. 411 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 Whilst the boat was going to the Springbok, Creneral 
 Rolleston whispered to Captain Moreland ; and what he 
 said may be abnost guessed from what oeeurred on board 
 the steamer soon afterwards. Helen was carried trem- 
 bling to the cabin, and the order was given to heave the 
 anchor and get under way. A groan of disappointment 
 ran through the ship ; Captain Moreland expressed the 
 general's regret to the men, and divided two hundred 
 pounds upon the capstan, and the g^roan ended in a cheer. 
 
 As for Helen's condition, that was at first mistaken 
 for ill health. She buried herself for two whole days in 
 her cabin ; and from that place faint moans were heard 
 now and then. The sailors called her the sick lady. 
 
 Heaven knows what she went through in that forty- 
 eight hours. 
 
 She came upon deck at last in a strange state of mind 
 and body, restless, strung up, absorbed. The rare vigor 
 she had acquired on the island came out now with a ven- 
 geance. She walked the deck with a briskness and a 
 pertinacity that awakened admiration in the crew at 
 first, but by and by superstitious awe. For, while the 
 untiring feet went briskly to and fro over leagues and 
 leagues of plank every day, the great hazel eyes were 
 turned inwards, and the mind, absorbed with one idea, 
 skimmed the men and things about her listlessly. 
 
 She had a mission to fulfil, and her whole nature was 
 stringing itself up to do the work. 
 
 She walked so many miles a day, partly from excite- 
 meat, partly with a deliberate resolve to cberisb her 
 
412 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 health and strength. "I may want them both," said 
 she, " to clear Eobert PenfoH." Thought and high pur- 
 pose shone through her so, that after awhile nobody- 
 dared trouble her much with commonplaces. To her 
 father she was always sweet and filial, but sadly cold 
 compared with what she had always been hitherto. He 
 was taking her body to England, but her heart stayed 
 behind upon that island ; he saw this, and said it. 
 
 "Forgive me," said she, coldly, and that was all her 
 reply. 
 
 Sometimes she had violent passions of weeping : and 
 then he would endeavor to console her: but in vain. 
 They ran their course, and were succeeded by the bodily 
 activity and concentration of purpose they had inter- 
 rupted for a little while. 
 
 At last, after a rapid voyage, they drew near the 
 English coast; and then General EoUeston, who had 
 hitherto spared her feelings, and been most indulgent 
 and considerate, felt it was high time to come to an 
 understanding as to the course they should both pursue. 
 
 " Now, Helen," said he, " about the Wardlaws ! " 
 
 Helen gave a slight shudder. But she said, after a 
 slight hesitation, " Let me know your wishes." 
 
 " Oh, mine are, not to be too ungrateful to the father, 
 and not to deceive the son." 
 
 " I will not be ungrateful to the father, nor deceive 
 the son," said Helen, firmly. 
 
 The general kissed her brow, and called her his brave 
 girl. " But," said he, " on the other hand, it must not 
 be published that you have been for eight months on an 
 island alone with a convict. Anything sooner than that. 
 You know the malice of your own sex ; if one of the 
 ladies, who kiss you at every visit, gets hold of that, 
 you will be an outcast from society." 
 ' Helen blushed and trembled. " Kobody need be told 
 
FOUL PLAY. 413 
 
 that but Arthur ; and I am sure he loves me well enough 
 not to injure me with the world." 
 
 "But he would be justified in declining your hand, 
 after such a revelation." 
 
 "Quite. And I hope he will decline it, when he 
 knows I love another, however hopelessly." 
 
 " You are going to tell Arthur Wardlaw all that ? " 
 
 "lam." 
 
 " Then all I can say is, you are not like other women." 
 
 " I have been brought up by a man." 
 
 " If I were Arthur Wardlaw, it would be the last word 
 you should ever speak to me." 
 
 " If you were Arthur Wardlaw, I should be on that 
 dear island now." 
 
 "Well, suppose his love should be greater than his 
 spirit, and " — 
 
 " If he does not go back, when he hears of my hope- 
 less love, I don't see how I can. I shall marry him : and 
 try with all my soul to love him. I'll open every door 
 in London to Eobert Penfold : except one ; my husband's. 
 And that door, while I live, he shall never enter. Oh, 
 my heart ; my heart ! " She burst out sobbing desper- 
 ately : and her father laid her head upon his bosom, and 
 sighed deeply, and asked himself how all this would 
 end. 
 
 Before they landed, her fortitude seemed to return; 
 and of her own accord she begged her father to telegraph 
 to the Wardlaws. 
 
 " Would you not like a day to compose yourself, and 
 prepare for this trying interview ? " said he. 
 
 " I should : but it is mere weakness. And I must cure 
 myseK of weakness, or I shall never clear Eobert 
 Penfold. And then, papa, I think of you. If old Mr. 
 Wardlaw heard you had been a day in town, you might 
 suffer in his good opinion. We shall be in London at 
 
414 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 seven. Ask them at eiglit. That will be one hour's 
 respite. God help me ! " 
 
 Long before eight o'clock that day, Arthur Wardlaw 
 had passed from a state of sombre misery and remorse 
 to one of joy, exultatioil, and unmixed happiness. 
 He no longer regretted his crime, nor the loss of the 
 Proserpine: Helen was alive and well, and attributed 
 not her danger but only her preservation to the Ward- 
 laws. 
 
 Wardlaw senior kept his carriage in town, and pre- 
 cisely at eight o'clock they drove up to the door of the 
 hotel. 
 
 They followed the servant with bounding hearts, and 
 rushed into the room where the general and Helen stood 
 ready to receive them. Old Wardlaw went to the gen- 
 eral with both hands out, and so the general met 
 him, and between these two it was almost an embrace. 
 Arthur ran to Helen with cries of joy and admiration, 
 and kissed her hands again and again, and shed such 
 genuine tears of joy over them that she trembled all 
 over, and was obliged to sit down. He kneeled at her 
 feet, and still imprisoned one hand, and mumbled it, 
 while she turned her head away and held her other hand 
 before her face to hide its real expression, which was 
 a mixture of pity and repugnance. But, as her face was 
 hidden, and her eloquent body quivered, and her hand 
 was not withdrawn, it seemed a sweet picture of femi- 
 nine affection to those who had not the key. 
 
 At last she was relieved from a most embarrassing 
 situation by old Wardlaw ; he cried out on this monopoly, 
 and Helen instantly darted out of her chair and went to 
 him and put up her cheek to him, which he kissed ; and 
 then she thanked him warmly for his courage in not 
 despairing of her life, and his goodness in sending out 
 a ship for her. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 415 
 
 Now, the fact is, she could not feel grateful ; but she 
 knew she ought to be grateful, and she was ashamed to 
 show no feeling at all in return for so much ; so she was 
 eloquent, and the old gentleman was naturally very much 
 pleased at first ; but he caught an expression of pain on 
 Arthur's face, and then he stopped her. "My dear," 
 said he, "you ought to thank Arthur, not me ; it is his 
 love for you which was the cause of my zeal. If you 
 owe me anything, pay it to him, for he deserves it best. 
 He nearly died for you, my sweet girl. TSo, no, you 
 mustn't hang yoiir head for that, neither. What a fool 
 I am to revive our sorrows ! Here we are, the happiest 
 four in England." Then he whispered to her, " Be kind 
 to poor Arthur, that is all I ask. His very life depends 
 on you." 
 
 Helen obeyed this order, and went slowly back to 
 Arthur ; she sat, cold as ice, on the sofa beside him, and 
 he made love to her. She scarcely heard what he said; 
 she was asking herself how she could end this intoler- 
 able interview, and escape her father's looks, who knew 
 the real state of her heart. 
 
 At last she rose and went and whispered to him, " My 
 courage has failed me. Have pity on me and get me 
 away. It is the old man ; he kills me." 
 
 General EoUeston took the hint, and acted with more 
 tact than one would have given him credit for. He got 
 up and rang the bell for tea ; then he said to Helen, 
 "Tou don't drink tea now, and I see you are excited 
 more than is good for you. You had better go to bed." 
 
 "Yes, papa," said Helen. 
 
 She took her candle, and as she passed young Ward- 
 law she told him, in a low voice, she would be glad to 
 speak to him alone to-morrow. 
 
 "At what hour ? " said he, eagerly. 
 
 " When you like. At one." 
 
416 FOTJIi PLAY. 
 
 And so she retired, leaving Mm in ecstasies. This 
 was the first downright assignation she had ever made 
 with him. 
 
 They met at one o'clock ; he radiant as the sun, and 
 with a rose in his' button-hole; she sad and sombre, 
 and with her very skin twitching at the thought of the 
 explanation she had to go through. 
 
 He began with amorous commonplaces; she stopped 
 him gravely. "Arthur," said she, "you and I are alone , 
 now, and I have a confession to make. Unfortunately, 
 I must cause you pain — terrible pain. Oh ! my heart 
 flinches at the wound I am going to give you ; but it is 
 my fate, either to wound you or to deceive you." 
 
 During this preamble, Arthur sat amazed rather than 
 alarmed. He did not interrupt her, though she paused, 
 and would gladly have been interrupted, since an inter- 
 ruption is an assistance in perplexities. 
 
 "Arthur, we suffered great hardships in the boat, 
 and you would have lost me but for one person. He 
 saved my life again and again; I saved his upon the 
 island. My constancy was subject to trials — oh, such 
 trials! So great an example of every manly virtue 
 forever before my eyes ! My gratitude and my pity 
 eternally pleading ! England and you seemed gone for- 
 ever. Make excuses for me if you can. Arthur — I — 
 I have formed an attachment." 
 
 In making this strange avowal she hung her head and 
 blushed, and the tears ran down her cheeks. But we 
 suspect they ran for him, and not for Arthur. 
 
 Arthur turned deadly sick at this tremendous blow, 
 dealt with so soft a hand. At last he gasped out, " If 
 you marry him you will bury me." 
 
 " No, Arthur," said Helen, gently ; " I could not marry 
 him, even if you were to permit me. When you know 
 more, you will see that, of us three unhappy ones, you 
 
FOXJIi PLAY. 417 
 
 are the least unhappy. But, since this is so, am I wrong 
 to tell you the truth, and leave you to decide whether 
 our engagement ought to continue ? Of course, what I 
 have owned to you releases you." 
 
 "Releases me ! But it does not unbind my heart from 
 yours," cried Arthur, in despair. 
 
 Then his hysterical nature came out, and he was so 
 near fainting away, that Helen sprinkled water on his 
 temples, and applied eau-de-cologne to his nostrils, and 
 murmured, "Poor, poor Arthur; oh, was I born only to 
 afflict those I esteem ? " 
 
 He saw her with the tears of pity in her eyes, and he 
 caught her hand, and said, " You were always the soul 
 of honor ; keep faith with me, and I will cure you of 
 that unhappy attachment." 
 
 " What ? do you hold me to my engagement after 
 what I have told you ? " 
 
 "Cruel Helen! you know I have not the power to 
 hold you." 
 
 " I am not cruel ; and you have the power. -But, oh, 
 think ! For your own sake, not mine." 
 
 " I have thought ; and this attachment to a man you 
 cannot marry is a mere misfortune, yours as well as 
 mine. Give me your esteem until your love comes back, 
 and let our engagement continue." 
 
 "It was for you to decide," said Helen, coldly, "and 
 you have decided. There is one condition I must ask 
 you to submit to." 
 
 "I submit to it." 
 
 "What, before you hear it ? " 
 
 " Helen, you don't know what a year of misery I have 
 endured, ever since the report came of your death. My 
 happiness is cruelly dashed now; but still it is great 
 happiness by comparison. Make your conditions. You 
 are my queen, as well as my love and my life." 
 27 
 
418 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Helen hesitated. It shocked her delicaoy to lower the 
 man she had consented, to marry. 
 
 " Oh, Helen," said Arthur, " anything but secrets be- 
 tween you and me. Go on as you have begun, and let 
 me know the worst at once." 
 
 " Can you be very generous, Arthur ? generous to him 
 who has caused you so much pain ? " 
 
 " I'll try," said Arthur, with a groan. 
 
 " I would not marry him, unless you gave me up ; for 
 I am your betrothed, and you are true to me. I could 
 not marry him, even if I were not pledged to you ; but 
 it so happens, I can do him one great service without 
 injustice to you ; and this service I have vowed to do 
 before I marry. I shall keep that vow, as I keep faith 
 with you. He has been driven from society by a foul 
 slander ; that slander I am to sift and confute. It will 
 be long and difiBcult ; but I shall do it ; and you could 
 help me if you chose. But that I will not be so cruel as 
 to ask." 
 
 Arthur bit his lip with jealous rage ; but he was natur- 
 ally cunning, and his cunning showed him there was at 
 present but one road to Helen's heart. He quelled his 
 torture as well as he could, and resolved to take that 
 road. He reflected a moment, and then he said, — 
 
 " If you succeed in that, will you marry me next day ? " 
 
 " I will, upon my honor." 
 
 « Then, I will help you." 
 
 " Arthur, think what you say. Women have loved as 
 unselfishly as this ; but no man, that ever I heard of." 
 
 " No man ever did love a woman as I love you. Yes, 
 I would rather help you, though with a sore heart, than 
 hold aloof from you. What have we to do together ? " 
 
 " Did I not tell you ? To clear his character of a foul 
 stigma, and restore him to England, and to the world 
 which he is so fitted to adorn." 
 
FOtTL PLAT. 419 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Arttur, "but who is it? "Wliy do I 
 ask, though ? He must be a stranger to me." 
 
 "No stranger at all," said Helen; "but one who is 
 almost as unjust to you, as the world has been to him ; " 
 then, fixing her eyes full on him, she said, " Arthur, it is 
 your old friend and tutor, Robert Penfold." 
 
420 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE LII. 
 
 Aethub Waedlaw was thunderstruck ; and, for some 
 time, sat stupidly staring at her. And to this blank gaze 
 succeeded a look of abject terror, which seemed strange 
 to her, and beyond the occasion. But this was not all ; 
 for, after glaring at her with scared eyes and ashy cheeks 
 a moment or two, he got up and literally staggered out 
 of the room without a word. 
 
 He had been taken by surprise, and, for once, all his 
 arts had failed him. 
 
 Helen, whose eyes had never left his face, and had fol- 
 lowed his retiring figure, was frightened at the weight 
 of the blow she had struck ; and strange thoughts and 
 conjectures filled her mind. Hitherto, she had felt sure 
 Eobert Penfold was under a delusion as to Arthur Ward- 
 law, and that his suspicions were as unjust as they cer- 
 tainly were vague. Yet, now, at the name of Robert 
 Penfold, Arthur turned pale and fled like a guilty thing. 
 This was a coincidence that confirmed her good opinion 
 of Eobert Penfold, and gave her ugly thoughts of Arthur. 
 Still, she was one very slow to condemn a friend, and 
 too generous and candid to condemn on suspicion; so 
 she resolved as far as possible to suspend her unfavor- 
 able judgment of Arthur, until she should have asked 
 him why this great emotion, and heard his reply. 
 
 Moreover, she was no female detective, but a pure 
 creature bent on clearing innocence. The object of her 
 life was, not to discover the faults of Arthur Wardlaw, 
 or any other person, but to clear Eobert Penfold of a 
 crime. Yet Arthur's strange behavior was a great shock 
 
FOUL PLAT. 421 
 
 to her; for here, at the very outset, he had somehow 
 made her feel she must hope for no assistance from him. 
 She sighed at this check, and asked herself to whom she 
 should apply first for aid. Eobert had told her to see 
 his counsel, his solicitor, his father, and Mr. Undercliff, 
 an expert, and to sift the whole matter. 
 
 Not knowing exactly where to begin, she thought she 
 would, after all, wait a day or two to give Arthur time 
 to recover himself, and decide calmly whether he would 
 co-operate with her or not. 
 
 In this trying interval she set up a diary, for the first 
 time in her life ; for she was no egotist : and she noted 
 down what we have just related, only in a very condensed 
 form, and wrote at the margin : Mysterious. 
 
 Arthur never came near her for two whole days. This 
 looked grave. On the third day she said to General 
 Eollestonf^ 
 
 "Papa, you will help me in the good cause, will you 
 not ? " 
 
 He replied that he would do what he could, but feared 
 that would be little. 
 
 " Will you take me down to Elmtrees this morning ? " 
 
 "With all my heart." 
 
 He took her down to Elmtrees. On the way she said : 
 "Papa, you must let me get a word with Mr. Wardlaw, 
 alone." 
 
 "Oh, certainly. But of course you will not say a 
 word to hurt his feelings." 
 
 "Oh, papa!" 
 
 "Excuse me: but, when a person of your age is ab- 
 sorbed with one idea, she sometimes forgets that other 
 people have any feelings at all." 
 
 Helen kissed him meekly, and said that was too true ; 
 and she would be upon her guard. 
 
 To General Eolleston's surprise, his daughter no sooner 
 
422 VOTJL PLAT. 
 
 saw old Wardlaw than she went — or seemed to go — 
 into high spirits, and was infinitely agreeable. 
 
 But, at last, she got him aU to herself, and then she 
 turned suddenly grave, and said : 
 
 " Mr. Wardlaw, I want to ask you a question. It is 
 something about Eobert Penfold." 
 
 Wardlaw shook his head. " That is a painful subject, 
 my dear. But what do you wish to know about that 
 unhappy young man ? " 
 
 " Can you tell me the name of the counsel who defended 
 him at the trial ? " 
 
 " Ko, indeed, I cannot." 
 
 "But perhaps you can tell me where I could learn 
 that." 
 
 " His father is in our office still ; no doubt he could 
 tell you." 
 
 Now, for obvious reasons, Helen did not like to go to 
 the office ; so she asked faintly if there was nobody else 
 who could tell her. 
 
 " I suppose the solicitor could." 
 
 "But I don't know who was the solicitor," said Helen, 
 with a sigh. 
 
 " Hum ! " said the merchant. " Try the bill-broker. I'll 
 give you his address ; " and he wrote it down for her. 
 
 Helen did not like to be too importunate, and she 
 could not bear to let Wardlaw senior know she loved 
 anybody better than his son : and yet some explanation 
 was necessary : so she told him as calmly as she could 
 that her father and herself were both well acquainted 
 with Eobert Penfold, and knew many things to his 
 credit. 
 
 " I am glad to hear that," said Wardlaw ; " and I can 
 believe it. He bore an excellent character here, till, 
 in an evil hour, a strong temptation came, and he 
 fell." 
 
FOITL PLAY. 423 
 
 " What ! YoTi think he was guilty ? " 
 
 " I do. Arthur, I believe, has his doubts still. But 
 he is naturally prejudiced in his friend's favor: and, 
 besides, he was not at the trial; I was." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Wardlaw," said Helen, coldly ; and, 
 within five minutes, she was on her way home. 
 
 " Arthur prejudiced in Robert Penf old's favor ! " That 
 puzzled her extremely. 
 
 She put down the whole conversation while her memory 
 was fresh. She added this comment : " What darkness 
 I am groping in ! " 
 
 Next day she went to the bill-broker, and told him Mr, 
 Wardlaw senior had referred her to him for certain 
 information. Wardlaw's name was evidently a passport. 
 Mr. Adams said obsequiously, "Anything in the world I 
 can do, madam ? " 
 
 " It is about Mr. Eobert Penf old. I wish to know the 
 name of the counsel he had at his trial." 
 
 « Eobert Penf old ! What, the forger ? " 
 
 " He wEis accused of that crime," said Helen, turning red. 
 
 "Accused, madam! He was convicted. I ought to 
 know ; for it was my partner he tried the game on. But 
 I was too sharp for him. I had him arrested before he 
 had time to melt the notes ; indicted him, and sent him 
 across the herring pond, in spite of his parson's coat, 
 the rascal." - 
 
 Helen drew back, as if a serpent had stung her. 
 
 "It was you who had him transported!" cried she, 
 turning her eyes on him with horror. 
 
 "Of course it was me," said Mr. Adams, firing up; 
 "and I did the coimtry good service. I look upon a 
 forger as worse than a murderer. What is the matter? 
 You are ill." 
 
 The poor girl was haH-fainting at the sight of the man 
 who had destroyed her Robert, and owned it. 
 
424 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 "No, no," she cried, hastily; "let me get away — let 
 me get away from here — you cruel, cruel man." 
 
 She tottered to the door, and got to her carriage, she 
 scarcely knew how, without the information she went 
 for. 
 
 The bill-broker was no fool ; he saw now how the land 
 lay ; he followed her down the stairs, and tried to stam- 
 mer exciises. 
 
 " Charing Cross Hotel," said she, faintly, and hid her 
 face against the cushion to avoid the sight of him. 
 
 When she got home, she cried bitterly at her feminine 
 weakness and her incapacity; and she entered this 
 pitiable failure in her journal with a severity our male 
 readers will hardly, we think, be disposed to imitate; 
 and she added, by way of comment, — " Is this how I 
 carry out my poor Eobert's precept : Be obstinate as a 
 man ; be supple as a woman ? " 
 
 That night she consulted her father on this dilficulty, 
 so slight to any but an inexperienced girl. He told her 
 there must be a report of the trial in the newspapers, 
 and the report would probably mention the counsel ; she 
 had better consult a file. 
 
 Then the thing was, where to find a file. After one or 
 two failures, the British Museum was suggested. She 
 went thither, and could not get in to read without certain 
 formalities. While these were being complied with, she 
 was at a stand-still. 
 
 That same evening came a line from Arthur Ward- 
 law: — 
 
 Dearest Helen, — I hear from Mr. Adams that you desire 
 to know the name of the counsel who defended Robert Penfold. 
 It was Mr. Tollemache. He has chambers in Lincoln's Inn. 
 Ever devotedly yours, 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw. 
 
FOUL PLAT. 425 
 
 Helen was touched witli this letter, and put it away, 
 indorsed with a few words of gratitude and esteem; 
 and copied it into her diary, and remarked, " This is one 
 more warning not to judge hastily. Arthur's agitation 
 was probably only great emotion at the sudden mention 
 of one, whose innocence he believes, and whose sad fate 
 distresses him." She wrote back and thanked him 
 sweetly, and in terms that encouraged a visit. Next 
 day she went to Mr. Tollemache. A seedy man followed 
 her at a distance. Mr. Tollemache was not at his 
 chambers, not expected till four o'clock. He was in 
 court. She left her card, and wrote on it in pencil that 
 she would call at four. 
 
 She went at ten minutes after four. Mr. Tollemache 
 declined through his clerk to see her if she was a client ; 
 he could only be approached by her solicitor. She felt 
 inclined to go away and cry ; but this time she remem- 
 bered she was to be obstinate as a man, and supple as a 
 woman. She wrote on a card, " I am not a client of Mr. 
 Tollemache, but a lady deeply interested in obtaining 
 some information, which Mr. Tollemache can with per- 
 fect propriety give me. I trust to his courtesy as a 
 gentleman not to refuse me a short interview." 
 
 " Admit the lady," said a sharp little voice. 
 
 She was ushered in, and found Mr. Tollemache stand- 
 ing before the fire. 
 
 " Now, madam, what can I do for you ? " 
 
 " Some years ago yon defended Mr, Robert Penfold ; 
 he was accused of forgery." 
 
 " Oh, was he ? I think I remember something about 
 it. A banker's clerk, wasn't he ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, sir. A clergyman." 
 
 "A clergyman? I remember it perfectly. He was 
 convicted." 
 
 " Do you think he was guilty, sir ? " 
 
426 FOTIL PLAY. 
 
 "There was a strong case against him." 
 
 " I wish to sift that case." 
 
 " Indeed. And you want to go through the papers." 
 
 "What papers, sir?" 
 
 " The brief for the defence." 
 
 " Yes," said Helen, boldly ; " would you trust me with 
 that, sir? Oh, if you knew how deeply I am inter- 
 ested!" The tears were in her lovely eyes. 
 
 " The brief has gone back to the solicitor, of course. 
 I dare say he will let you read it upon a proper repre- 
 sentation." 
 
 " Thank you, sir. Will you tell me who is the solici- 
 tor, and where he lives ? " 
 
 " Oh, I can't remember who was the solicitor. That is 
 the very first thing you ought to have ascertained. It 
 was no use coming to me." 
 
 " Forgive me for troubling you, sir," said Helen, with a 
 deep sigh. 
 
 "Not at all, madam; I am only sorry I cannot be of 
 more service. But do let me advise you to employ your 
 solicitor to make these preliminary inquiries. Happy to 
 consult with him, and re-open' the matter, should he dis- 
 cover any fresh evidence." He bowed her out, and sat 
 down to a brief while she was yet in sight. 
 
 She tuirned away heart-sick. The advice she had 
 received was good: but she shrank from baring her 
 heart to her father's solicitor. 
 
 She sat disconsolate a while, then ordered another cab, ■ 
 and drove to Wardlaw's ofEice. It was late, and Arthur 
 was gone home ; so, indeed, was everybody, except one 
 young subordinate, who was putting up the shutters. 
 " Sir," said she, " can you tell me where old Mr. Penfold 
 lives ? " 
 
 " Somewhere in the subbubs, miss." 
 
 " Yes, sir, but where ? " 
 
FOTTL PLAY. 427 
 
 " I think it is out Pimlico way." 
 
 " Could you not give me the street ? I would beg you 
 to accept a present if you could." 
 
 This sharpened the young gentleman's wits ; he went 
 in and groped here and there, till he found the address ; 
 and gave it her: No. 3, Fairfield Cottages, Primrose 
 Lane, Pimlico. She gave him a sovereign, to his infinite 
 surprise and delight; and told the cabman to drive to 
 the hoteL 
 
 The next moment the man, who had followed her, was 
 chatting familiarly with the subordinate, and helping him 
 put up the shutters. 
 
 " I say, Dick," said the youngster, " Penf olds is up in 
 the market ; a duchess was here just now, and gave me a 
 sov. to tell her where he lived. Wait a moment till I 
 spit on it for luck." 
 
 The agent however did not wait to witness this inter- 
 esting ceremony. He went back to Ms hansom round 
 the corner, and drove at once to Arthur Wardlaw's house 
 with the information. 
 
 Helen noted down Michael Penfold's address in her 
 diary, and would have gone to him that evening, but she 
 was to dine tete-a-tete with her father. 
 
 Next day she went down to 3, Fairfield Cottages, at 
 haK-past four. On the way her heart palpitated, for this 
 was a very important interview. Here at least she 
 might hope to find some clew, by following out which 
 she would sooner or later establish Robert's innocence. 
 But then came a fearful thought. "Why had not his 
 father done this already, if it was possible to do it ? His 
 father must love him. His father must have heard his 
 own story and tested it in every way. Yet his father 
 remained the servant of a firm, the senior partner of 
 which had told Jier to her face Robert was guilty." 
 
 It was a strange and terrible eidgma. Yet she chuig 
 
428 FOtTL PLAT. 
 
 to the belief that some new light would come to her 
 from Michael Penfold. Then came bashful fears. " How 
 should she account to Mr. Penfold for the interest she 
 took in his son, she who was affianced to Mr. Penfold's 
 employer ? " She arrived at 3, Fairfield Cottages, with 
 her cheeks burning, and repeating to herself, " Now is 
 the time to be supple as a woman ; but obstinate as a 
 man." 
 
 She sent the cabman in to inquire for Mr. Penfold ; a 
 sharp girl of about thirteen came out to her, and told her 
 Mr. Penfold was not at home. 
 
 " Can you tell me when he will be at home ? " 
 
 "No, miss. He have gone to Scotland. Atelegraphum 
 came from Wardlaw's last night, as he was to go to 
 Scotland, first thing this morning ; and he went at six 
 o'clock." 
 
 " Oh, dear ! How unfortunate ! " 
 
 "Who shall I say called, miss ? " 
 
 " Thank you, I will write. What time did the tele- 
 gram come ? " 
 
 "Between five and six last evening, miss." 
 
 She returned to the hotel. Pate seemed to be against 
 her. BaiEed at the very threshold ! At the hotel she 
 found Arthur Wardlaw's card, and a beautiful bou- 
 quet. 
 
 She sat down directly, and wrote to him affectionately, 
 and asked him in the postscript if he could send her a 
 report of the trial. She received a reply directly, that 
 he had inquired in the office, for one of the clerks had 
 reports of it ; but this clerk was unfortunately out, and 
 had locked up his desk. 
 
 Helen sighed. Her feet seemed to be clogged at 
 every step in this inquiry. 
 
 Next morning, however, a large envelope came for her, 
 ;and a Mr, Hand wrote to her thus : — 
 
FOUL PLAY. 429 
 
 Mabah, — Having been requested by Mr. Arthur Wardlaw 
 to send you my extracts of a trial, the Queen v. Penfold, I 
 herewith forward the same, and would feel obliged by your 
 returning them at your convenience. 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 James Hand. 
 
 Helen took the enclosed extracts to her bedroom, and 
 there read them over many times. 
 
 In both these reports the case for the Crown was neat, 
 clear, cogent, straightforward, and supported by evidence. 
 The defence was chiefly argument of counsel to prove 
 the improbability of a clergyman and a man of good 
 character passing a forged note. One of the reports 
 stated that Mr. Arthur Wardlaw, a son of the principal 
 witness, had taken the accusation so much to heart that 
 he was now dangerously ill at Oxford. The other report 
 did not contain this, but, on the other hand, it stated that 
 the prisoner after conviction had endeavored to lay the 
 blame on Mr. Arthur Wardlaw, but that the judge had 
 stopped him, and said he could only aggravate his offence 
 by endeavoring to cast a slur upon the Wardlaws, who 
 had both shown a manifest desire to shield him, but 
 were powerless for want of evidence. 
 
 In both reports the summing up of the judge was mod- 
 erate in expression, but leaned against the prisoner on 
 every point, and corrected the sophistical reasoning of 
 his counsel very sensibly. Both the reports said an ex- 
 pert was called for the prisoner, whose ingenuity made 
 the court smile, but did not counterbalance the evidence. 
 Helen sat cold as ice with the extracts in her hand. 
 
 Not that her sublime faith was shaken. But that poor 
 Robert appeared to have been so calmly and fairly dealt 
 with by everybody. Even Mr. Hennessy, the counsel 
 for the Crown, had opened the case with humane regret, 
 and confined himself to facts, and said nobody would be 
 
430 FOUX PLAY. 
 
 more pleased than he would, if this evidence could be 
 contradicted, or explained in a manner consistent with 
 the prisoner's innocence. 
 
 What a stone she had undertaken to roll — up what a 
 hiU! 
 
 What was to be her next step ? Go to the Museum, 
 which was now open to her, and read more reports ? She 
 shrank from that. 
 
 " The newspapers are aU against him," said she ; " and 
 I don't want to be told he is guilty, when I know he is 
 innocent." 
 
 She now re-examined the extracts with a view to 
 names, and found the only names mentioned were those 
 of the counsel. The expert's name was not given in 
 either. However, she knew that from Eobert. She re- 
 solved to speak to Mr. Hennessy first, and try and get at 
 the defendant's solicitor through him. 
 
 She found him out by the Law Directory, and called 
 at a few minutes past four. 
 
 Hennessy was almost the opposite to Tollemache. He 
 was about the size of a gentleman's wardrobe ; and, like 
 most enormous men, good-natured. He received her, 
 saw with his practised eye that she was no common per- 
 son, and, after a slight hesitation on professional grounds, 
 heard her request. He sent for his note-book, found the 
 case in one moment, re-mastered it in another, and told 
 her the solicitor for the Crown in that case was Freshfield. 
 
 "Now," said he, "you want to know who was the de- 
 fendant's solicitor ? Jenkins, a stamped envBlope. Write 
 your name and address on that." 
 
 While she was doing it, he scratched a line to Mr. 
 Freshfield, asking him to send the required information 
 to the enclosed address. 
 
 She thanked Mr. Hennessy with the tears in her 
 eyes. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 431 
 
 "I dare not ask you whether you think him guilty," 
 she said. 
 
 Hennessy shook his head with an air of good-natured 
 rebuke. 
 
 "You must not cross-examine counsel," said he; "but, 
 if it will be any comfort to you, I'll say this much, there 
 was just a shadow of doubt, and Tollemache certainly 
 let a chance slip. If I had defended your friend, I 
 would have insisted on a postponement of the trial, until 
 this Arthur Wardlaw" (looking at his note-book) "could 
 be examined, either in court or otherwise, if he was 
 really dying. Is he dead, do you know ? " 
 
 "No." ' 
 
 " I thought not. Sick witnesses are often at death's 
 door; but I never knew one pass the threshold. Ha! 
 ha ! The trial ought to have been postponed till he got 
 well. If a judge refused me a postponement in such a 
 case, I would make him so odious to the jury, that the 
 prisoner would get a verdict in spite of his teeth." 
 
 " Then, you think he was badly defended ? " 
 
 " No ; that is saying a great deal more than I could 
 justify. But there are counsel, who trust too much 
 to their powers of reasoning, and underrate a chink 
 in the evidence pro or con. Practice, and a few l^ck- 
 falls, cure them of that." 
 
 Mr. Hennessy uttered this general observation with a 
 certain change of tone, which showed he thought he had 
 said as much or more than his visitor had any right to 
 expect from him ; and she, therefore, left him, repeating 
 her thanks. She went home, pondering on every word 
 he had said, and entered it all in her journal, with the 
 remark, " How strange ! the first doubt of Robert's guilt 
 comes to me from the lawyer who caused him to be 
 found guilty. He calls it the shadow of a doubt." 
 
 That very evening, Mr. Freshfield had the courtesy to 
 
432 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 send her by messenger the name and address of the 
 solicitor who had defended Eobert Penfold. Lovejoy 
 and James, Lincoln's Inn Fields. She called on them, 
 and sent in her card. She was kept waiting a long time 
 in the outer oflce, and felt ashamed, and sick at heart, 
 seated among young clerks. At last she was admitted, and 
 told Mr. LoYCJoy she and her father. General EoUeston, 
 were much interested in a late client of his, Mr. Eobert 
 Penfold, and would he be kind enough to let her see the 
 brief for the defence ? 
 
 " Are you a relation of the Penf olds, madam ? " 
 
 " No, sir," said Helen, blushing. 
 
 "Humph!" said Lovejoy. 
 
 He touched a hand-bell. A clerk appeared. 
 
 " Ask Mr. Upton to come to me." 
 
 Mr. Upton, the managing clerk, came in due course, 
 and Mr. Lovejoy asked him, — 
 
 " Who instructed us in the Queen v. Penfold ? " 
 
 " It was Mr. Michael Penfold, sir." 
 
 Mr. Lovejoy then told Helen that she must just get a 
 line from Mr. Michael Penfold, and then the papers 
 should be submitted to her. 
 
 " Yes ; but, sir," said Helen, " Mr. Penfold is in Scot- 
 land." 
 
 " Well, but you can write to him." 
 
 " No ; -I don't know in what part of Scotland he is." 
 
 " Then you are not very intimate with him ? " 
 
 "No, sir; my acquaintance is with Mr. Eobert Penfold." 
 
 " Have you a line from him ? " 
 
 " I have no written authority from him ; but wUl you 
 not take my word that I act by his desire ? " 
 
 " My dear madam," said the lawyer, " we go by rule. 
 There are certain forms to be observed in these things. 
 I am sure your own good sense will tell you it would be 
 cruel and improper of me to submit those papers with- 
 
FOUL PLAT. 433 
 
 out an order from Eobert or Michael Penfold. Pray 
 consider tlds as a delay, not a refusal." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Helen; "but I meet witli notMng 
 but delays, and my heart is breaking under them." 
 
 The solicitor looked sorry, but would not act irregu- 
 larly. She went home sighing, and condemned to wait 
 the return of Michael Penfold. 
 
 The cab-door was opened for her by a seedy man she 
 fancied she had seen before. 
 
 Baffled thus, and crippled in every movement she made, 
 however slight, in favor of Eobert Penfold, she was 
 seduced on the other hand into all the innocent pleasures 
 of the town. Her adventure had transpired somehow or 
 other, and all General Eolleston's acquaintances hunted 
 him up : and both father and daughter were courted by 
 people of ton as lions. A shipwrecked beauty is not 
 offered to society every day. Even her own sex raved 
 about her, and about the chain of beautiful pearls she 
 had picked up somehow on her desolate island. She 
 always wore them ; they linked her to that sacred 
 purpoge she seemed to be forgetting. Her father drew 
 her with him into the vortex, hiding from her that he 
 embarked in it principally for her sake, and she went 
 down the current with him out of filial duty. Thus 
 unfathomable difficulties thrust her back from her up- 
 hill task : and the world, with soft but powerful hand, 
 drew her away to it. Arthur brought her a choice 
 bouquet, or sent her a choice bouquet, every evening, 
 but otherwise did not intrude much upon her ; and though 
 she was sure he would assist her, if she asked him, grati- 
 tude and delicacy forbade her to call him again to her 
 assistance. She preferred to await the return of Michael 
 Penfold. She had written to him at the office to tell 
 him she had news of his son, and begged him to give 
 her instant notice of his return from Scotland. 
 28 
 
434 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Day after day passed, and he did not write to her. 
 She began to chafe, and then to pine. Her father saw, 
 and came to a conclusion that her marriage with Arthur 
 ought to he hastened. He resolved to act quietly but 
 firmly towards that end. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 436 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 Up to this time Helen's sex, and its attributes, had 
 been a great disadvantage to her. She had been stopped 
 on the very threshold of her inquiry by petty difBculties, 
 which a man would have soon surmounted. But one 
 fine day the scale gave a little turn, and she made a little 
 discovery, thanks to her sex. Women, whether it is that 
 they are born to be followed, or are accustomed to be 
 followed, seem to have eyes in the backs of their heads, 
 and instinct to divine when somebody is after them. This 
 inexperienced girl, who had missed seeing many things 
 our readers have seen, observed in merely passing her 
 window a seedy man in the court-yard of the hotel. 
 Would you believe it, she instantly recognized the man 
 who had opened her cab-door for her in Lincoln's Inn 
 Fields. Quick as lightning it passed through her mind, 
 "Why do I see the same figure in Lincoln's Inn Fields, 
 and at Charing Cross ? " At various intervals she passed 
 the window ; and twice she saw the man ag^in. She 
 pondered, and determined to try a little experiment. 
 Robert Penfold, it may be remembered, had mentioned 
 an expert as one of the persons she was to see. She had 
 looked for his name in the Directory ; but experts were 
 not down in the book. Another fatality ! But at last 
 she had found Undercliff, a lithographer, and she fancied 
 that he must be the same person. She did not hope to 
 learn much from him ; the newspapers said his evidence 
 had caused a smUe. She had a distinct object in visit- 
 ing him, the nature of which will appear. She ordered 
 a cab and dressed herself. She came down and entered 
 
436 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 the cab ; but instead of telling tbe man where to drive, 
 she gave him a slip of paper, containing the address of 
 the lithographer. " Drive there," said she, a little mys- 
 teriously. The cabman winked, suspecting an intrigue, 
 and went off to the place. There she learned that Mr. 
 Undercliff had moved to Frith Street, Soho, number not 
 known. She told the cabman to drive slowly up and 
 down the street, but could not find the name. At last 
 she observed some lithographs in a window. She let the 
 cabman go all down the street, then stopped him and 
 paid him off. She had no sooner done this than she 
 walked very briskly back and entered the little shop, 
 and inquired for Mr. Undercliff. He was out, and not 
 expected back for an hour. " I will wait," said Helen ; 
 and she sat down with her head upon her white hand. 
 A seedy man passed the window rapidly with a busy air ; 
 and if his eye shot a glance into the shop, it was so 
 slight and careless that nobody could suspect he was a 
 spy, and had done his work effectually as he flashed by. 
 In that moment the young lady, through the chink of 
 her fingers, which she had opened for that purpose, not 
 only recognized the man, but noticed his face, his hat, 
 his waistcoat, his dirty linen, and the pin in his neck-tie. 
 
 " Ah ! " said she, and flushed to the brow. 
 
 She lifted up her head and became conscious of a 
 formidable old woman, who was standing behind the 
 counter at a side door, eying her with the severest 
 scrutiny. This old woman was tall and thin, and had a 
 fine face, the lower part of which was feminine enough ; 
 but the forehead and brows were alarming. Though her 
 hair was silvery, the brows were black and shaggy, and 
 the forehead was divided by a vertical furrow into two 
 temples. Under those shaggy eyebrows shone dark gray 
 eyes that passed for black with most people ; and those 
 eyes were fixed on Helen, reading her. Helen's light 
 
FOUL PLAY. 437 
 
 hazel eyes returned their gaze. She blushed, and still 
 looking, said, "Pray, madam, can I see Mr. UndercUff ?" 
 
 " My son is out for the day, miss," said the old lady, 
 civilly. 
 
 "Oh, dear! how unfortunate I am," said Helen, with 
 a sigh. 
 
 "He comes back to-night.. You can see him to-morrow 
 at ten o'clock. A question of handwriting ? " 
 
 "Not exactly," said Helen; "but he was witness in 
 favor of a person, I know was innocent." 
 
 " But he was found guilty," said the other, with cool 
 keenness. 
 
 " Yes, madam : and he has no friend to clear him, but 
 me; a poor weak girl, bafled and defeated whichever 
 way I turn." She began to cry. 
 
 The old woman looked at her crying, with that steady 
 composure which marks her sex on these occasions, and, 
 when she was better, said quietly, " You are not so weak 
 as you think." She added after a while, " If you wish 
 to retain my son, you had better leave a fee." 
 
 " With pleasure, madam. What is the fee ? " 
 
 "One guinea. Of course there is a separate charge 
 for any work he may do for you." 
 
 " That is but reasonable, madam." And with this she 
 paid the fee, and rose to go. 
 
 " Shall I send any one home with you ? " 
 
 " Fo, thank you," said Helen. « Why ? " 
 
 "Because you are followed, and because you are not 
 used to be followed." 
 
 " Why, how did you find that out ? " 
 
 "By your face, when a man passed the window — a 
 shabby-genteel fellow. He was employed by some gen- 
 tleman, no doubt. Such faces as yours wiU. be followed 
 in London. If you feel uneasy, miss, I will put on my 
 bonnet, and see you home." 
 
438 FOUIi PLAY. 
 
 Helen was surprised at this act of substantial civility 
 from the Gorgon. "Oh, thank you, Mrs. Undercliff," 
 said she. "No, I am not the least afraid. Let them 
 follow me ; I am doing nothing that I am ashamed of. 
 Indeed, I am glad I am thought worth the trouble of 
 following. It shows me I am not so thoroughly con- 
 temptible. Good-by! and many thanks. Ten o'clock 
 to-morrow." 
 
 And she walked home without looking once behind 
 her till the hotel was in sight ; then she stopped at a 
 shop-window, and in a moment her swift eye embraced 
 the whole landscape. But the shabby-genteel man was 
 nowhere in sight. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 439 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 When Joseph Wylie disappeared from the scene, 
 Nancy Eouse made a discovery, which very often follows 
 the dismissal of a suitor: that she was considerably 
 more attached to him than she had thought.^ The 
 house became dull; the subordinate washerwomen lan- 
 guid : their taciturnity irritated and depressed Nancy by 
 turns. 
 
 In the midst of this, Michael Penfold discovered that 
 Helen had come back safe. He came into Nancy's par- 
 lor, beaming with satisfaction, and told her of the good 
 news. It gave her immense delight at first. But, when 
 she had got used to her joy on that score, she began to 
 think she had used Joe "Wylie very ill. Now that 
 Helen was saved, she could no longer realize that Wylie 
 was so very much to blame. 
 
 She even persuaded herself that his disappearance was 
 the act of a justly offended man ; and, as he belonged to 
 a class of whose good-sense she had a poor opinion, she 
 was tormented with fears that he would do some desper- 
 ate act, — drown himself, or go to sea ; or, worst of all, 
 marry some trollop. She became very anxious and 
 unhappy. Before this misfortune, she used to go about 
 singing the first verse of a song, and whistling the next, 
 like any ploughboy, — an eccentric performance, but it 
 made the house gay. Now, both song and whistle were 
 suspended ; and, instead, it was all hard work and hard 
 crying, turn about. 
 
 She attached herself to Michael Penfold, because he 
 had known trouble, and was sympathetic ; and these two 
 
440 B-OTTL PLAY. 
 
 opened their hearts to one another, and formed a friend- 
 ship that was very honest and touching. 
 
 The scene of their conversation and mutual consoler 
 lation was Nancy's parlor, — a little mite of a room she 
 had partitioned off from her business. " For," said she, 
 " a lady I'll be — after my work is done — if it is only 
 in a cupboard." The room had a remarkably large fire- 
 place, which had originally warmed the whole floor ; but 
 now was used as a ventilator only. The gas would have 
 been stifling without it. As for lighting a fire, in it, that 
 was out of the question. 
 
 On a certain evening, soon after Mr. Penfold's return 
 from Scotland, the pair sat over their tea, and the con- 
 versation fell on the missing sweetheart. Michael had 
 been thinking it over, and was full of encouragement. 
 He said, — 
 
 "Miss Eouse, something tells me that if poor Mr. 
 Wylie could only know your heart, he would turn up 
 again directly. What we ought to do is to send some- 
 body to look for him in all the sailors' haunts : some 
 sharp fellow — dear me, what a knocking they keep up 
 next door ! " 
 
 " Oh, that is always the way when one wants a quiet 
 chat 1 Drat the woman ! I'll have her indicted." 
 
 " No, you won't. Miss Eouse ; she is a poor soul, and 
 has got no business, except letting lodgings. She is not 
 like you. But I do hope she will be so considerate as 
 not to come quite through the wall." 
 
 " Dear heart," said Nancy, " go on, and never mind her 
 noise, which it is worse than a horgan-grinder." 
 
 " Well, then, if you can't find him that way, I say — 
 advertise." 
 
 " Me { " cried Nancy, turning very red. " Do I look 
 like a woman as would advertise for a man ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am : quite the reverse. But what I mean is, 
 
FOVh PLAY. 441 
 
 you might put in something not too plain. For instance : 
 Xf J, W. will return to N. B., all will be forgotten and 
 forgiven." 
 
 " He'd have the upper hand of me for life," said Nancy. 
 "No, no; I won't advertise for the fool. What.-right 
 had he to run off at the first word ? He ought to know 
 my bark is worse than my bite by this time. You can, 
 though." 
 
 " Me bite, ma'am ? " said the old gentleman. 
 
 " Bite ? No ; advertise, since you're so fond of it. 
 Come, you sit down, and write one ; and I'll pay for it, 
 for that matter." 
 
 Michael sat down, and drew up the following: "If 
 Mr. Joseph Wylie will call on Michael Penfold, at No. 
 3, F. C, he will hear of something to his advantage." 
 
 " To his advantage ? " said Nancy, doubtfully. " Why 
 not tell him the truth ? " 
 
 "Why, that is the truth, ma'am. Isn't it to his 
 advantage to be reconciled to an honest, virtuous, pains- 
 taking lady, that honors him with her aJEEection, and me 
 with her friendship ? Besides, it is the common form ; 
 and there is nothing like sticking to form." 
 
 "Mr. Penfolds," said Nancy, "any one can see you 
 was born a gentleman ; and I am a deal prouder to have 
 you, and your dirty linen, as I should him as pays you 
 your wages: pale eyes, pale hair, pale eyelashes. I 
 wouldn't trust him to mangle a duster." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Rouse ! pray don't disparage my good 
 master to me." 
 
 " I can't help it, sir : thought is free, especially in this 
 here compartment. Better speak one's mind than die o' 
 the sulks. So, shut your ear, when my music jars. But 
 one every other day is enough. If he won't come back 
 for that, why, he must go, and I must look out for 
 another. There's as good fish in the sea as ever Q&m» 
 
442 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 out of it. Still, I'll not deny I liave a great respect for 
 poor Joe. Mr. Penf old ! wliat shall I do ? Oh ! oil ! 
 oh!" 
 
 "There, there," said Michael, "I'll put this into the 
 Times every day." 
 
 " You are a good soul, Mr. Penfolds. Oh ! oh ! oh ! " 
 
 When he had finished the advertisement, in a clerkly 
 hand, and she had finished her cry, she felt compara- 
 tively comfortable, and favored Mr. Penfold with some 
 reflections. 
 
 " Dear heart, Mr. Penfolds, how you and I do take to 
 one .another, to be sure. But so we ought ; for we are 
 honest folk, the pair, and has had a hard time. Don't it 
 never strike you rather curious that two thousand pounds 
 was at the bottom of both our troubles, yourn and mine ? 
 I might have married Joe, and been a happy woman 
 with him ; but the devil puts in my head — There you 
 go again, hammering! Life ain't worth having, next 
 door to that lodging-house. Drat the woman! if she 
 must peck, why don't she go in the churchyard, and 
 peck her own grave, which we shall never be quiet till 
 she is there ; and these here gimcrack houses they won't 
 stand no more pecking at than a soapsud. Ay, that's 
 what hurts me, Mr. Penfold: the Lord had given him 
 and me health and strength and honesty. Our betters 
 had wed for love, and wrought for money, as the say- 
 ing is ; but I must go again nature, that cried, ' Come 
 couple,' and must bargain for two thousand pounds. 
 So, now I've lost the man, and not got the money, 
 nor never shall; and, if I had, I'd burn — Ah, ah, ah, 
 ah, ah!" 
 
 This tirade ended in stifled screams of terror, caused 
 by the sudden appearance of a human hand, in a place 
 and in a manner well adapted to shake the stoutest 
 laundress's nerves. 
 
FOUIi PLAT. 443 
 
 This hand came through the brick-work of the chimney- 
 piece, and there remained a moment or two ; then slowly 
 retired, and, as it retired, something was heard to fall 
 upon the shavings and tinsel of the fireplace. 
 
 Nancy, by a feminine impulse, put her hands before 
 her face to hide this supernatural hand ; and, when she 
 found courage to withdraw them, and glare at the place, 
 there was no aperture whatever in the brick-work, and, 
 consequently, the hand appeared to have traversed the 
 solid material, both coming and going. 
 
 "0 Mr. Penfolds," cried Nancy, "I'm a sinful woman; 
 this comes of talking of the devil arter sunset," and she 
 sat trembling so that the very floor shook. 
 
 Mr. Penfold's nerves were not strong. He and Nancy 
 both huddled together for mutual protection, and their 
 faces had not a vestige of color left in them. 
 
 However, after a period of general paralysis, Penfold 
 whispered, — 
 
 " I heard it drop something on the shavings." 
 
 " Then we shall be all in a blaze o' brimstone," shrieked 
 Nancy, wringing her hands. 
 
 And they waited to see. 
 
 Then, as no conflagration took place, Mr, Penfold got 
 up, and said he must go and see what it was the hand 
 had dropped. 
 
 Nancy, in whom curiosity was beginning to battle with 
 terror, let him go to the fireplace without a word of objeo- 
 tion, and then cried out, — 
 
 "Don't go anigh it, sir; it will do you a mischief; 
 don't touch it whatever. Take the tongs." 
 
 He took the tongs, and presently flung into the middle 
 of the room a small oilskin packet. This, as it lay on 
 the ground, they both eyed like two deer glowering at a 
 piece of red cloth, and ready to leap back again over the 
 moon if it shonld show signs of biting. But oilskin is 
 
444 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 not preternatural, nor has tradition connected it, however 
 remotely, with the Enemy of man. 
 
 Consequently, a great revulsion took place in Ifancy, 
 and she passed from fear to indignation at having been 
 frightened so. 
 
 She ran to the fireplace, and, putting her head up the 
 chimney, screamed, "Heave your dirt where you heave 
 your love, ye Brazen." 
 
 While she objurgated her neighbor, whom, with femi- 
 nine justice, she held responsible for every act done in 
 her house, Penfold undid the packet, and Nancy returned 
 to her seat, with her mind more at ease, to examine the 
 contents. 
 
 " Banknotes ! " cried Penfold. 
 
 "Ay," said Nancy incredulously, "they do look like 
 banknotes, and feel like 'em ; but they ain't wrote like 
 them. Banknotes ain't wrote black like that in the left- 
 hand corner.'' 
 
 Penfold explained. 
 
 " Ten-pound notes are not, nor fives ; but large notes 
 are. These are all fifties." 
 
 "Fifty whats?" 
 
 "Fifty pounds." 
 
 " What, each of them bits of paper worth fifty pounds ? " 
 
 " Yes. Let us count them ; 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 
 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 20, 26, 30, 35, — oh. Lord ! — 40. Why, 
 it is two thousand pounds — just two thousand pounds. 
 It is the very sum that ruined me ; it did not belong to 
 me, and its being in the house ruined my poor Eobert. 
 And this does not belong to you. Lock all the doors, 
 bar all the windows, and burn them before the police 
 come." 
 
 "Wait a bit," said Nancy, "wait a bit." 
 
 They sat on each side of the notes ; Penfold agitated 
 and terrified, Nancy confounded and perplexed. 
 
FOUL FLAT. 445 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 PuNCTUAiiT at ten o'clock, Helen returned to Frith 
 Street, and found Mr. UnderclifE behind a sort of counter, 
 employed in tracing ; a workman was seated at some little 
 distance from him, both bent on their work. 
 
 " Mr. UnderclifE ? " said Helen. 
 
 He rose and turned towards her politely ; a pale, fair 
 man, with a keen gray eye, and a pleasant voice and 
 manner: "I am Edward Undercliff. You come by ap- 
 pointment ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "A question of handwriting?" 
 
 "Not entirely, sir. Do yon remember giving witness 
 in favor of a young clergyman, Mr. Robert Penfold, who 
 was accused of forgery ? " 
 
 " I remember the circumstance, but not the details." 
 
 "Oh, dear, that is unfortunate," said Helen, with a 
 deep sigh ; she often had to sigh now. 
 
 " Why, you see," said the expert, " I am called on such 
 a mnltitude of trials. However, I take notes of the prin- 
 cipal ones. What year was it in ? " 
 
 "In 1864." 
 
 Mr. UnderclifE went to a set of drawers arranged 
 chronologically, and found his notes directly. "It was 
 a forged bill, madam, indorsed and presented by Penfold. 
 I was called to prove that the bill was not in the 
 handwriting of Penfold. Here is my facsimile of 
 the Robert Penfold indorsed upon the bill by the 
 prisoner." He handed it to her, and she examined 
 it with interest. "And here are facsimiles of genuine 
 
446 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 writing by John Wardlaw, and here is a copy of the 
 forged note." 
 
 He laid it on the table before her. She started, and 
 eyed it with horror. It was a long time before she could 
 speak. At length she said, " And that wicked piece of 
 paper destroyed Eobert Penfold." 
 
 " Not that piece of paper, but the original ; this is a 
 facsimile, so far as the writing is concerned. It was not 
 necessary in this case to imitate paper and color. Stay, 
 here is a sheet on which I have lithographed the three 
 styles, that will enable you to follow my comparison. 
 But perhaps that would not interest you?" Helen had 
 the tact to say it would. Thus encouraged, the expert 
 showed her that Robert Penfold's writing had nothing 
 in common with the forged note. He added, "I also 
 detected in the forged note habits which were entirely 
 absent from the true writing of John Wardlaw. You 
 will understand there were plenty of undoubted specimens 
 in court to go by." 
 
 " Then, oh, sir," said Helen, " Eobert Penfold was not 
 guilty." 
 
 "Certainly not of writing the forged note. I swore 
 that, and I'll swear it again. But, when it came to ques- 
 tions, whether he had passed the note, and whether he 
 knew it was forged, that was quite out of my province." 
 
 "I can understand that," said Helen; "but you heard 
 the trial; you are very intelligent, sir; you must have 
 formed some opinion as to whether he was guilty or not." 
 
 The expert shook his head. "Madam," said he, "mine 
 is a profound and difficult art, which aims at certainties. 
 Very early in my career I found that to master that art I 
 must be single-minded, and not allow my ear to influence 
 my eye. By purposely avoiding all reasoning from exter- 
 nal circumstances, I have distanced my competitors in 
 expertise ; but I sometimes think I have rather weakened 
 
FOUL PLAY. 447 
 
 my powers of conjecture through disuse. Now, if my 
 mother had been at the trial, she would give you an 
 opinion of some value on the outside facts. But that is 
 not my line. If you feel sure he was innocent, and want 
 me to aid you, you must get hold of the handwriting of 
 every person who was likely to know old Wardlaw's 
 handwriting, and so might have imitated it; all the 
 clerks in his oflSce, to begin with. Nail the forger, that 
 is your only chance." 
 
 " What, sir ! " said Helen, with surprise, " if you saw 
 the true handwriting of the person who wrote that forged 
 note, should you recognize it ? " 
 
 " Why not ? It is difficult ; but I have done it hundreds 
 of times." 
 
 " Oh, is forgery so common ? " 
 
 " No : but I am in all the cases ; and, besides, I do a 
 great deal in a business that requires the same sort of 
 expertise — anonymous letters. I detect assassins of that 
 kind by the score. A gentleman or lady, down in the 
 country, gets a poisoned arrow by the post, or perhaps 
 a shower of them. They are always in disguised hand- 
 writing ; those who receive them, send them up to me, 
 with writings of all the people they suspect. The dis- 
 guise is generally more or less superficial ; five or six 
 unconscious habits remain below it, and often these 
 undisguised habits are the true characteristics of the 
 writer. And I'll tell you something curious, madam ; it 
 is quite common for all the suspected people to be inno- 
 cent ; and then I write back, ' Send me the handwriting 
 of the people you suspect the least ; ' and amongst them 
 I often find the assassin." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Undercliff," said Helen, "you make my 
 heart sick." 
 
 " It is a vile world, for that matter," said the expert ; 
 "and the country no better than the town, for all it looks 
 
448 rOUL PLAY. 
 
 so sweet with its green fields and purling rills. There 
 they sow anonymous letters like barley ; the very girls 
 write anonymous letters, that 'make my hair stand on 
 end. Yes, it is a vile world." 
 
 "Don't you believe him, miss," said Mrs. Undercliff, 
 appearing suddenly. Then, turning to her son, "How 
 can you measure the world ? You live in a little one of 
 your own ; a world of forgers and anonymous writers ; 
 you see so many of these, you fancy they are common 
 as dirt ; but they are only common to you, because they 
 all come your way." 
 
 " Oh, that is it, is it ? " said the expert, doubtfully. 
 
 " Yes, that is it, Ned," said the old lady, Quietly ; then 
 after a pause, she said, " I want you to do your very best 
 for this young lady." 
 
 " I always do," said the artist. " But how can I judge 
 without materials ? And she brings me none." 
 
 Mrs. Undercliff turned to Helen, and said, " Have you 
 brought him nothing at all, no handwritings — in your 
 bag?" 
 
 Then Helen sighed again. "I have no handwriting 
 except Mr. Penf old's ; but I have two printed reports of 
 the trial." 
 
 " Printed reports," said the expert ; " they are of no 
 use to me. Ah ! here is an outline I took of the pris- 
 oner during the trial. You can read faces : tell the lady 
 whether he is guilty or not ; " and he handed the profile 
 to his mother with an ironical look ; not that he doubted 
 her proficiency in the rival art of reading faces, but that 
 he doubted the existence of the art. 
 
 Mrs. Undercliff took the profile, and coloring slightly, 
 said to Miss EoUeston, " It is living faces I profess to 
 read : there I can see the movement of the eyes and 
 othet things, that my son, here, has not studied." Then 
 she scrutinized the profile. "It is a very handsome 
 face," said she. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 449 
 
 The expert chuckled. " There's a woman's judgment," 
 said he. " Handsome ! the fellow I got transported for 
 life down at Exeter was an Adonis, and forged wills, 
 bonds, and powers of attorney by the dozen." 
 
 " There's something noble about this face," said Mis. 
 Undercliff, ignoring the interruption; "and yet some- 
 thing simple. I think him more likely to be a cats-paw 
 than a felon." Having delivered this with a certain 
 modest dignity, she laid the profile on the counter before 
 Helen. 
 
 The expert had a wonderful eye and hand ; it was a 
 good thing for society he had elected to be gamekeeper, 
 instead of poacher ; detector of forgery, instead of forger. 
 No photograph was ever truer than this outline. Helen 
 started, and bowed her head over the sketch to conceal 
 the strong and various emotions that swelled at the 
 sight of the portrait of her martyr. In vain; if the 
 eyes were hidden, the tender bosom heaved, the graceful 
 body quivered, and the tears fell fast upon the counter. 
 
 Mrs. Undercliff was womanly enough, though she 
 looked like the late Lord Thurlow in petticoats; and 
 she instantly aided the girl to hide her beating heart 
 from the man, though that man was her son. She dis- 
 tracted his attention. " Give me all your notes, Ned," 
 said she, " and let me see whether I can make something 
 of them ; but first, perhaps. Miss EoUeston will empty 
 her bag on the counter. Go back to your work a 
 moment, for I know you have enough to do." 
 
 The expert was secretly glad to be released from a 
 case in which there were no materials; and so Helen 
 escaped unobserved except by one of her own sex. She 
 saw directly what Mrs. Undercliff had done for her, 
 and lifted her sweet eyes, thick with tears, to thank her. 
 Mrs. Undercliff smiled maternally, and next these two 
 ladies did a stroke of business in the twinkling of an 
 29 
 
450 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 eye, and ■without a word spoken; whereof anon. Helen 
 being once more composed, Mrs. Undereliff took up the 
 prayer-book, and asked her with some curiosity what 
 could be in that. 
 
 " Oh," said Helen, " only some writing of Mr. Penf old. 
 Mr. Undereliff does not want to see that ; he is already 
 sure Eobert Penfold never wrote that wicked thing." 
 
 " Yes, but I should like to see some more of his hand- 
 writing for all that," said the expert, looking sud- 
 denly up. 
 
 "But it is only in pencil." 
 
 "Never mind; you need not fear I shall alter my 
 opinion." 
 
 Helen colored high. "You are right; and I should 
 disgrace my good cause by withholding anything from 
 inspection. There, sir." And she opened the prayer- 
 book and laid Cooper's dying words before the expert ; 
 he glanced over them with an eye like a bird, and com- 
 pared them with his notes. 
 
 "Yes," said he, "that is Robert Penf old's writing; 
 and I say again, that hand never wrote the forged 
 note." 
 
 " Let me see that," said Mrs. Undereliff. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Helen, rather irresolutely, " but you 
 look into the things as well as the writing, and I prom- 
 ised papa" — 
 
 " Can't you trust me ? " said Mrs. Undereliff, turning 
 suddenly cold and a little suspicious. 
 
 " Oh, yes, madam : and indeed I have nothing to 
 reproach myself with. But my papa is anxious — 
 However, I am sure you are my friend ; and all I ask is 
 that you will never mention to a soul what you read 
 there." 
 
 « I promise that," said the elder lady, and instantly 
 bent her black brows upon the writing, And, as she did 
 
FOtrIi PLAY. 451 
 
 80, Helen observed her countenance rise, as a face is very- 
 apt to do when its owner enters on congenial work. 
 
 "You would have made a great mistake to keep this 
 from me" said she, gravely. Then she pondered pro- 
 foundly; then she turned to her son and said, "Why, 
 Edward, this is the very young lady who was wrecked 
 in the Pacific Ocean, and cast on a desolate island. We 
 have all read about you in the papers, miss : and I felt 
 for you, for one, but, of course, not as I do now I have 
 seen you. You must let me go into this with you." 
 
 "Ah, if you would," said Helen. "Oh, madam, I 
 have gone through tortures already for want of some- 
 body of my own sex to keep me in countenance. Oh, if 
 you could have seen how I have been received ! with 
 what cold looks, and sometimes with impertinent stares 
 before I could even penetrate into the region of those 
 cold looks, and petty formalities. Any miserable straw 
 was excuse enough to stop me on my errand of justice, 
 and mercy, and gratitude." 
 
 " Gratitude ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, madam. The papers have only told you 
 that I was shipwrecked and cast away. They don't tell 
 you that Eobert Penfold warned me the ship was to be 
 destroyed, and I disbelieved and affronted him in return, 
 and he never reproached me, not even by a look. And 
 we were in a boat with the sailors, all starved — not 
 hungry: starved — and mad with thirst, and yet in his 
 own agony he hid something for me to eat. All his 
 thought, all his fear, was for me. Such things are not 
 done in those great extremities of the poor, vulgar, 
 suffering body, except by angels in whom the soul rises 
 above the flesh. And he is such an angel. I have had 
 a knife lifted over me to kill me, madam, — yes : and 
 again it was he who saved me. I owe my life to him on 
 the island over and over again; and in retura I have 
 
452 FOUIi PLAT. 
 
 promised to give him back his honor, that he values far 
 more than life, as all such noble spirits do. Ah, my 
 poor martyr, how feebly I plead your cause. Oh, help 
 me ! pray, pray, help me ! All is so dark, and I so weak, 
 so Tveak." Again the loving eyes streamed; and this 
 time not an eye was dry in the little shop. 
 
 The expert flung down his tracing with sbmething 
 between a groan and a curse. " Who can do that drudg- 
 ery," he cried, " whilst the poor young lady — Mother, 
 you take it in hand ; find me some material, though it 
 is no bigger than a fly's foot, give me but a clew no 
 thicker than a spider's web, and I'll follow it through 
 the whole labyrinth. But you see I'm impotent ; there's 
 no basis for me. It is a case for you. It wants a shrewd 
 sagacious body that can read facts and faces ; and — I 
 won't jest any more, Miss EoUeston, for you are deeply 
 in earnest. Well, then, she really is a woman with 
 a wonderful insight into facts and faces. She has got a 
 way of reading them as I read handwriting; and she 
 must have taken a great fancy to you, for as a rule she 
 never does us the honor to meddle." 
 
 " Have you taken a fancy to me, madam ? " said Helen, 
 modestly and tenderly, yet half archly, 
 
 " That I have," said the other. " Those eyes of yours 
 went straight into my heart last night, or I should not 
 be here this morning. That is partly owing to my own 
 eyes being so dark, and yours the loveliest hazeL It is 
 twenty years since eyes like yours have gazed into 
 mine. Diamonds are not half so rare, nor a tenth part 
 so lovely, to my fancy." 
 
 She turned her head away, melted, probably, by some 
 tender reminiscence. It was only for a moment. She 
 turned round again, and said, quietly, "Yes, Ned, I 
 should like to try what I can do ; I think you said these 
 are reports of his trial. I'll begin by reading them." 
 
POTIL PLAY. 453 
 
 She read them both very slowly and carefully, and her 
 face grew like a judge's, and Helen watched each shade 
 of expression with deep anxiety. 
 
 That powerful countenance showed alacrity and hope 
 at first ; then doubt and diflculty, and at last dejection. 
 Helen's heart turned cold, and for the first time she 
 began to despair. For now, a shrewd person with a 
 plain prejudice in her favor and Robert's, was staggered 
 by the simple facts of the trial. 
 
454 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE LVI. 
 
 Mes. Undeeclipf, having read the reports, avoided 
 Helen's eye — (another bad sign). She turned to Mr. 
 Undereliff, and probably because the perusal of the 
 reports had disappointed her, said, almost angrily, 
 " Edward, what did you say to make them laugh at that 
 trial? Both these papers say that 'an expert was 
 called, whose ingenuity made the court smile, but did 
 not counterbalance the evidence.' " 
 
 "Why, that is a falsehood on the face of it," said the 
 expert, turning red. " I was called simply and solely to 
 prove Penfold did not write the forged note ! I proved it 
 to the judge's satisfaction, and he directed the prisoner 
 to be acquitted on that count. Miss Eolleston, the law- 
 yers often do sneer at experts; but then, four experts 
 out of five are rank impostors ; a set of theorists, who 
 go by arbitrary rules framed in the closet, and not by 
 large and laborious comparison with indisputable docu- 
 ments. These charlatans are not aware that five thou- 
 sand cramped and tremulous, but genuine, signatures are 
 written every day by honest men, and so they denounce 
 every cramped or tremulous writing as a forgery. The 
 varieties in a man's writing, caused by his writing with 
 his glove on, or off, with a quill, or a bad steel pen, 
 drunk or sober, calm or agitated, in full daylight or 
 dusk, etc., etc., all this is a dead letter to them, and they 
 have a bias towards suspicion of forgery ; and a banker's 
 clerk, with his mere general impression, is better evi- 
 dence than they are. But I am an artist of a very dif- 
 ferent stamp. I never reason a priori. I compare, and 
 
POTJIi PLAT. 465 
 
 I have no bias. I never will have. The judges know 
 this, and the pains and labor I take to be right, and they 
 treat me with courtesy. At Penfold's trial the matter 
 was easy; I showed the court he had not written the 
 note, and my evidence crushed the indictment so far. 
 How could they have laughed aT; my testimony ? Why, 
 they acted upon it. Those reports are not worth a straw. 
 What journals were they cut out of ? " 
 
 "I don't know," said Helen. 
 
 "Is there nothing on the upper margin to show?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "What, not on either of them ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Show them me, please. This is a respectable paper, 
 too ; the Daily News." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Undercliff, how can you know that ? " 
 
 " I don't know it ; but I think so, because the type and 
 paper are like that journal ; the conductors are fond of 
 clean type; so am I. Why, here is another misstate- 
 ment ; the judge never said he aggravated his offence by 
 trying to cast a slur upon the Wardlaws. I'll swear the 
 judge never said a syllable of the kind. What he said 
 was, 'you can speak in arrest of judgment on grounds of 
 law, but you must not impugn the verdict with facts.' 
 That was the only time he spoke to the prisoner at all. 
 These reports are not worth a button." 
 
 Helen lifted up her hands and eyes in despair. 
 " Where shaU I find the truth ? " said she. « The world 
 is a quicksand." 
 
 "My dear young lady," said Mrs. Undercliff, "don^t 
 yon be discouraged; there must be a correct report in 
 some paper or other." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that," said Undercliff. " I believe 
 the reporters trundle off to the nearest public house 
 together, and Hght their pipes with their notes^ and 
 
456 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 settle something or other by memory. Indeed, they 
 have reached a pitch of inaccuracy that could not be 
 attained without co-operation. Independent liars con- 
 tradict each other ; but these chaps follow one another 
 in falsehood, like geese toddling after one another across 
 a common." , 
 
 "Come, come," said Mrs. Undercliff, "if you can't 
 help us, don't hurt us. We don't want a man to talk 
 yellow jaundice to us. Miss RoUeston must employ 
 somebody to read all the other papers, and compare the 
 reports with these." 
 
 "I'll employ nobody but myself," said Helen. "I'll 
 go to the British Museum, directly." 
 
 "The Museum!" cried Mr. Undercliff, looking up 
 with surprise. " Why, they will be half an hour groping 
 for a copy of the Times. No, no ; go to Peele's Coffee 
 House." He directed her where to find that place ; and 
 she was so eager to do something for Eobert, however 
 small, that she took up her bag, directly, and put up the 
 prayer-book, and was going to ask for her extracts, when 
 she observed Mr. Undercliff was scrutinizing them with 
 great interest, so she thought she would leave them 
 with him ; but, on looking more closely, she found that 
 he was examining, not the reports, but the advertise- 
 ments and miscellanea on the reverse side. 
 
 She waited out of politeness, but she colored, and bit 
 her lip. She could not help feeling hurt and indignant. 
 "Any trash is more interesting to people than poor 
 Robert's case," she thought. And, at last, she said, 
 bitterly, — 
 
 " Those advertisements seem to interest you, sir ; shall 
 I leave them with you ? " 
 
 "If you please," said the expert, over whose head, 
 bent in dogged scrutiny, this small thunderbolt of femi- 
 nine wrath passed unconscious. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 457 
 
 Helen drove avray to Peek's Coffee House. 
 
 Mrs. Underciiff pondered over the facts that had been 
 elicited in this conversation; the expert remained 
 absorbed in the advertisements at the back of Helen's 
 reports. 
 
 When he had examined every one of them, minutely, 
 he held the entire extracts up to the light, and looked 
 through them ; then he stuck a double magnifier in his 
 eye, and looked through them with that. Then he took 
 two pieces of card, wrote on them Ee Penfold, and 
 looked about for his other materials, to put them all 
 neatly together. Lo ! the profile of Eobert Penfold was 
 gone. 
 
 "Now that is too bad," said he. "So much for her 
 dovelike eyes, that you admired so. Miss Innocence has 
 stolen that profile." 
 
 " Stolen ! _ she bought it — of me." 
 
 " Why, she never said a word." 
 
 "N"o; but she looked a look. She asked me with 
 those sweet, imploring eyes, might she have it; and I 
 looked yes ; then she glanced towards you, and put down 
 a note. Here it is." 
 
 "Why, you beat the telegraph, you two. Ten pounds 
 for that thing ! I must make it up to her, somehow." 
 
 "I wish you could. Poor girl, she is a lady every 
 inch. But she is in love with that Penfold. I am afraid 
 it is a hopeless case." 
 
 "I have seen a plainer. But hopeless it is not. How- 
 ever, you work your way, and I'll work mine." 
 
 "But you can't ; you have no materials." 
 
 "No; but I have found a door that may lead to 
 materials." 
 
 Having delivered himself thus mysteriously, he shut 
 himself up in obstinate silence, until Helen Kolleston 
 called again, two days afterwards. She brought a bag 
 
458 FOITL PIiAY. 
 
 full of mamiscript ttis time ; to wit, copies in her own 
 handwriting of eight reporta, the Queen v. Penf old. She 
 was in good spirits, and told Mrs. Undercliff that all the 
 reports were somewhat more favorable than the two 
 she had left ; and she was beginning to tell Mr. Under- 
 cliff he was quite right in his recollection, when he 
 interrupted her and said, "All that is secondary now. 
 Have you any objection to answer me a question ? " 
 
 She colored; but said, "Oh, no. Ask me anything 
 you like;" then she blushed deeper. 
 
 " How did you become possessed of those two reports 
 you left with me the other day ? " 
 
 At this question, so different from what she feared, 
 Helen cleared up and smiled, and said, "From a Mr. 
 Hand, a clerk in Mr. Wardlaw's office ; they were sent 
 me at my request." 
 
 The expert seemed pleased at this reply; his brow 
 cleared, and he said, "Then I don't mind telling you 
 that those two reports will bring Penfold's case within 
 my province. To speak plainly. Miss EoUeston, your 
 newspaper extracts — abb i-okgeeibs." 
 
FOUL PLAT. 459 
 
 CHAPTEE LVn. 
 
 "FoEGEKiES ! " cried Helen, with innocent horror. 
 
 " Rank forgeries," repeated the expert, coolly. 
 
 " Forgeries ! " cried Helen. " Why, how can printed 
 things be that?" 
 
 " That is what I should like to know," said the old lady. 
 
 "Why, what else can you call them ?" said the expert. 
 " They are got up to look like extracts from newspapers. 
 But they were printed as they are, and were never in any 
 journaL Shall I teU you how I found that out ? " 
 
 " If you please, sir," said Helen. 
 
 "Well, then, I looked at the reverse side, and I found 
 seven misprints in one slip, and five in the other. That 
 was a great number to creep into printed slips of that 
 length. The ^;rial part did not show a single enatum. 
 'Hullo!' said I to myself; 'why, one side is printed 
 more qarefully than the other.' And that was not 
 natural The pidntxag of advertisements is looked 
 after quite as sharply as any other part in a jouxnaL 
 Why, the advertisers themselves cry out if they are 
 misprinted." 
 
 " Oh, how shrewd ! " cried Helen. 
 
 "Child's play," said the expert. "Well, from that 
 blot I went on. I looked at the edges, and they were 
 cat too dean. A gentleman with a pair laf scissors cant 
 cut slips out of a paper like this. They were cut in the 
 printer's effice. Lastly, on holdiag them to the liglit, I 
 found they had not been machined upon the plaai now 
 adojkted by jaU newspapers ; but worked by hand. In 
 one word — forgeries.!'-' 
 
460 I'OTJL PLAY. 
 
 " Oh ! " said Helen. " To think I should have handled 
 forgeries, and shown them to you for real. Ah! I'm so 
 glad; for now I have committed the same crime as 
 Eobert Penfold; I have uttered a forged document. 
 Take me up and have me put in prison, for I am as 
 guilty as ever he was." Her face shone with rapture at 
 sharing Robert's guilt. 
 
 The expert was a little puzzled by sentiments so high- 
 flown and unpractical. 
 
 "I think," said he, "you are hardly aware what a 
 valuable discovery this may prove to you. However, 
 the next step is to get me a specimen of the person's 
 handwriting who furnished you with these. The chances 
 are, he is the writer of the forged note." 
 
 Helen uttered an exclamation that was almost a scream. 
 The inference took her quite by surprise. She looked 
 at Mrs. Undercliff. 
 
 "He is right, I think," said the old lady. 
 
 "Eight or wrong," said the expert, "the next step in 
 the inquiry is to do what I said. But that demands 
 great caution. You must write a short civil note to 
 Mr. Hand, and just ask him some questions. Let me 
 see; ask him what newspapers his extracts are from, 
 and whether he has got any more. He will not tell you 
 the truth ; but no matter, we shall get hold of his 
 handwriting." 
 
 "But, sir," said Helen, "there is no need for that. 
 Mr. Hand sent me a note along with the extracts." 
 
 " The deuce he did. All the better. Any words in it 
 that are in the forged note ? Is Penfold in it, or 
 Wardlaw ? " 
 
 Helen reflected a moment, and then said she thought 
 both those names were in it. 
 
 "Fetch me that note," said Undercliff, and his eyes 
 sparkled. He was on a hot scent now. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 461 
 
 ' "And let me study the genuine reports, and com- 
 pare what they say with the forged ones," said Mrs. 
 UnderclifE. 
 
 " Oh, what friends I have found at last ! " cried Helen. 
 
 She thanked them both warmly, and hurried home, for 
 it was getting late. 
 
 Next day she brought Hand's letter to Mr. Undercliff, 
 and devoured his countenance while he inspected it 
 keenly, and compared it with the forged note. 
 
 The comparison was long and careful, but unsatis- 
 factory. Mr. Undercliff could not conscientiously say 
 whether Hand had written the forged note or not. 
 There were pros and cons. 
 
 "We are in deeper water than I thought," said he. 
 " The comparison must be enlarged. Tou must write as 
 I suggested, and get another note out of Mr. Hand." 
 
 "And leave the prayer-book with me," said Mrs. 
 Undercliff. 
 
 Helen complied with these instructions, and in due 
 coujse received a civil line from Mr. Hand to say that 
 the extracts had been sent him from the country by one 
 of his fellow clerks, and he had locked them up, lest 
 Mr. Michael Penfold, who was much respected in the 
 of&ce, should see them. He could not say where they 
 came from ; perhaps from some provincial paper. If of 
 any value to Miss EoUeston, she was quite at liberty to 
 keep him. He added there was a coffee-house in the 
 city where she could read all the London papers of that 
 date. This letter, which contained a great many more 
 words than the other, was submitted to Undercliff. It 
 puzzled him so that he set to work, and dissected every 
 curve the writer's pen had made ; but he could, come to 
 no positive conclusion, and he refused to utter his 
 conjectures. 
 
 "We are in a deep water," said h& 
 
462 FOtTL PLAY. 
 
 Finally he told Ms mother he was at a standstill for 
 the present. 
 
 "But I am not," said Mrs. Undercliff. She added, 
 after a ■while, " I think there's felony at the bottom of 
 this." 
 
 " Smells like it to me," said the expert. 
 
 " Then I want you to do something very clever for me." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 " I want you to forge something." 
 
 " Come ! I say." 
 
 " Quite innocent, I assure you." 
 
 "WeU, hut it is a bad habit to commence." 
 
 "All depends on the object. This is to take in a 
 forger; that is all." 
 
 The expert's eyes sparkled. He had always been 
 sadly discontented with the efforts of forgers, and 
 thought he could do better. 
 
 "I'll do it," said he gayly. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 463 
 
 CHAPTER LVIII. 
 
 Genebal Rolleston and Ms daughter sat at break- 
 fast in the hotel. General EoUeston was reading the 
 Times, and his eye lighted on something that made him 
 start. He looked towards Helen, and his first impulse 
 was to communicate it to her; but, on second thoughts, 
 he preferred to put a question to her first. 
 
 "You have never told the Waxdlaws what those sailors 
 said?" 
 
 "No, papa. I think they ought to have been told; 
 but you know you positively forbade me." 
 
 " Of course I did. Why afflict the old gentleman with 
 such a tale ? A couple of common sailors, who chose to 
 fancy the ship was destroyed ! " 
 
 "Who are better judges of such a thing than sailors?" 
 
 "Well, my child, if you think so, I can't help it. All 
 I say, spare the old gentleman such a report. As for 
 Arthur, to tell you the truth, I have mentioned the mat- 
 ter to him." 
 
 " Oh, papa ! Then why forbid me to teU Tiim ? What 
 did he say ? " 
 
 "He was very much distressed. 'Destroy the ship 
 my Helen was in ! ' said he : ' if I thought Wylie had 
 done that, I'd kill him with my own hand, though I was 
 hanged for it next minute.' I never saw the young fel- 
 low fire up so before. But when he came to think 
 calmly over it a little while, he said : ' I hope this slan- 
 der win never reach my father's ears ; it would grieve 
 him deeply. I only laugh at it." 
 
 " Laugh at it ! and yet talk of killing ? " 
 
464 FOUIi PLAT. 
 
 " Oh, people say they laugh at a thing when they are 
 very angry all the time. However, as you are a good 
 girl, and mind what you are told, I'll read you an adver- 
 tisement that will make you stare. Here is Joseph 
 Wylie, who, you say, wrecked the Proserpine, actually 
 invited by Michael Penfold to call on him and hear of 
 something to his advantage." 
 
 "Dear me!" said Helen; "how strange! Surely Mr. 
 Penfold cannot know the character of that man. Stop 
 a minute ! Advertise for him ? Then nobody knows 
 where he lives ? There, papa ; you see he is afraid to 
 go near Arthur Wardlaw: he knows he destroyed the 
 ship. What a mystery it all is ! And so Mr. Penfold is 
 at home, after all ; and not to send me a single line. I 
 never met so much unkindness and discourtesy in all my 
 life." 
 
 "Ah, my dear," said the general, "you never defied 
 the world before, as you are doing now." 
 
 Helen sighed: but, presently recovering her spirit, 
 said she had done without the world on her dear island, 
 and she would not be its slave now. 
 
 As she was always as good as her word, she declined 
 an invitation to play the lion, and, dressing herself in 
 plain merino, went down that very evening to Michael 
 Penfold's cottage. 
 
 We run thither a little before her, to relate briefly 
 what had taken place there. 
 
 Nancy Eouse, as may well be imagined, was not the 
 woman to burn two thousand pounds. She locked the 
 notes up ; and, after that night, became very reserved on 
 that head, so much so that, at last, Mr. Penfold saw it 
 was an interdicted topic, and dropped it in much wonder. 
 
 When Nancy came to think of it in daylight, she 
 could not help suspecting Wylie had some hand in it ; 
 and it occurred to her that the old gentleman who lodged 
 
FOUL PLAY. 465 
 
 next door, might be an agent of Wylie's and a spy on 
 her. Wylie must have told him to push the two thou- 
 sand pounds into her room : but what a strange thing to 
 do ! To be sure, he was a sailor, and sailors had been 
 known to make sandwiches of bank-notes, and eat them. 
 Still her good sense revolted against this theory, and she 
 was sore puzzled; for, after all, there was the money, 
 and she had seen it come through the wall. One thing 
 appeared certain — Joe had not forgotten her; he was 
 thinking of her as much as ever, or more than ever ; so 
 her spirits rose, she began singing and whistling again, 
 and waited cunningly till Joe should reappear and explain 
 his conduct. Hostage for his reappearance she held the 
 two thousand pounds. She felt so strong and saucy, she 
 was half sorry she had allowed Mr. Penf old to advertise ; 
 but, after all, it did not much matter, she could always 
 declare to Joe she had never missed him, for her part, 
 and the advertising was a folly of poor Mr. Penfold's. 
 
 Matters were in this condition when the little servant 
 came up one evening to Mr. Penfold, and said there was 
 a young lady to see him. 
 
 "A young lady for me ? " said he. 
 
 "Oh, she won't eat you, while I am by," said the 
 sharp little girl. " It is a lady, and the same what come 
 before." 
 
 "Perhaps she will oblige me with her name," said 
 Michael, timidly. 
 
 " I won't show her up till she do," said thjs mite of a 
 servant, who had been scolded by Nancy for p.ot extract- 
 ing that information on Helen's last visit. 
 
 "Of course, I must receive her," said Michael, half- 
 consulting the mite. It belonged to a sex which promptly 
 assumes the control of such gentle creatures as he was. 
 
 "Is Miss Eouse in the way ? " said he. 
 
 The mite laughed, and said, — 
 30 
 
466 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 "She is only gone down the street. I'll send her in 
 to take care on you." 
 
 With this she went off, and in due course led Helen up 
 the stairs. She ran in, and whispered in Michael's ear, — 
 
 "It is Miss Helen EoUeston." 
 
 Thus they announced a lady at Ko. 3. 
 
 Michael stared with wonder at so great a personage 
 visiting him; and the next moment Helen glided into 
 the room, blushing a little, and even panting inaudibly, 
 but all on her guard. She saw before her a rather 
 stately figure, and a face truly venerable, benignant, 
 and beautiful, though deficient in strength. She cast a 
 devouring glance on him as she courtesied to him ; and it 
 instantly flashed across her, " But for you there would be 
 no Robert Penfold." There was an unconscious tender- 
 ness in her voice as she spoke to him, for she had to 
 open the interview. 
 
 "Mr. Penfold, I fear my visit may surprise you, as 
 you did not write to me. But, when you hear what I 
 am come about, I think you will not be displeased with 
 me for coming." 
 
 " Displeased, madam ? I am highly honored by your 
 visit — a lady, who, I understand, is to be married to my 
 worthy employer, Mr. Arthur. Pray be seated, madam." 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 Helen began in a low, thrilling voice, to which, how- 
 ever, she gave firmness by a resolute effort of her will : 
 
 " I am come to speak to you of one who is very dear 
 to you, and to all who really know him." 
 
 " Dear to me ? It is my son. The rest are gone. It 
 is Eobert." 
 
 And he began to tremble. 
 
 " Yes, Jt is Robert," said she, very softly ; then turn- 
 ing her eyes away from him, lest his emotion should 
 overcome her, she said, — 
 
FOTJL PLAY. 467 
 
 "He has laid me and my father under deep obligar 
 tions." 
 
 She dragged her father in ; for it was essential not to 
 show Mr. Penfold she was in love with Eobert. 
 
 " Obligations to my Eobert ? Ah, madam, it is very 
 kind of you to say that, and cheer a desolate father's 
 heart with praise of his lost son. But how could a poor 
 unfortunate man in his position serve a lady like you ? " 
 
 " He defended me against robbers, single-handed." 
 
 " Ah," said the old man, glowing with pride, and look- 
 ing more beautiful than ever, " he was always as brave 
 as a lion." 
 
 " That is nothing ; he saved my life again, and again, 
 and again." 
 
 " God bless him for it ! and God bless you for coming 
 and telling me of it. Oh, madam, he was always brave, 
 and gentle, and just, and good ; so noble, so unfortunate." 
 
 And the old man began to ery. 
 
 Helen's bosom heaved, and it cost her a bitter struggle 
 not to throw her arms round the dear old man's neck 
 and cry with him. But she came prepared for a sore 
 trial of her feelings, and she clenched her hands and 
 teeth, and would not give way an inch. 
 
 " Tell me how he saved your life, madam." 
 
 " He was in the ship, and in the boat with me." 
 
 "Ah, madam," said Michael, "that must have been 
 some other Eobert Penfold ; not my son. He could not 
 come home. His time was not up, you know." 
 
 " It was Eobert Penfold, son of Michael Penfold." 
 
 " Excuse me a moment," said Michael ; and he went 
 to a drawer, and brought her a photograph of Eobert. 
 "Was it this Eobert Penfold? " 
 
 The girl took the photograph and eyed it, and lowered 
 her head over it. 
 
 "Yes," she murmured. 
 
468 KOUL PLAT. 
 
 " And he was coming home in the ship -with you. Is 
 he mad ? More trouble ! more trouble ! " 
 
 "Do not alarm yourself," said Helen; "he will not 
 land in England for years," — here she stifled a sob — 
 "and long ere that we shall hare restored him to 
 society," 
 
 Michael stared at that, and shook his head. 
 
 " Never," said he ; " that is impossible." 
 
 " Why impossible ? " 
 
 " They all say he is a felon." 
 
 " They all shall say that he is a martyr." 
 
 " And so he is ; but how can that ever be proved ? " 
 
 "I don't know. But I am sure that the truth can 
 always be proved, if people have patience and persever- 
 ance." 
 
 "My sweet young lady," said Michael sadly, "you 
 don't know the world." 
 
 " I am learning it fast, though. It may take me a few 
 years perhaps to make powerful friends, to grope my way 
 among forgers, and spies, and wicked dishonest people 
 of all sorts, but so surely as you sit there, I'll clear 
 Robert Penfold before I die." 
 
 The good feeble old man gazed on her with admirar 
 tion and astonishment. 
 
 She subdued her flashing eye, and said with a smile, 
 " And you shall help me. Mr. Penfold, let me ask you 
 a cLuestion. I called here before ; but you were gone to 
 Edinburgh. Then I wrote to you at the office, begging 
 you to let me know the moment you returned. Now, do 
 not think I am angry ; but pray tell me why you would 
 not answer my letter." 
 
 Michael Penfold was not burdened with amour x/ropre ; 
 but who has not got a little of it in some corner of his 
 heart ? " Miss EoUeston," said he, " I was born a gen- 
 tleman, and was a man of fortune once, till faJse friends 
 
FOUL PLAY. 469 
 
 ruined me. I am in business now, but atill a gentleman : 
 and neither as a gentleman nor as a man of business 
 could I leave a lady's letter unanswered. I never did 
 such a thing in all my life. I never got your letter," he 
 said, quite put out, and his wrath was so like a dove's, 
 that Helen smiled and said, — 
 
 " But I posted it myself. And my address was io it ; 
 yet it was not returned." 
 
 " Well, madam, it was not delivered, I assure you." 
 
 " It was intercepted, then." 
 
 He looked at her. She blushed, and said, "Yes, I am 
 getting suspicious: ever since I found I was followed 
 and watched. Excuse me a moment." She went to the 
 window and peered through the curtains. She saw a man 
 walking slowly by ; he quickened his pace the moment 
 she opened the curtain. 
 
 " Yes," said she, " it was intercepted, and I am watched 
 wherever I go." 
 
 Before she could say any more a bustle was heard on 
 the stairs, and in bounced Nancy Eouse, talking as she 
 came. " Excuse me, Mr. Penfolds, but I can't wait no 
 longer with my heart a-bursting ; itis! it is/ Oh my 
 dear, sweet young lady; the Lord be praised. You 
 really are here • alive and well. Kiss you I must and 
 shall : come back from the dead ; there — there — 
 there!" 
 
 "Nancy! my good, kind STancy," cried Helen, and 
 returned her embrace warmly. 
 
 Then followed a burst of broken explanations ; and, at 
 last, Helen made out that Nancy was the landlady, and 
 had left Lambeth long ago. 
 
 "BuJt idear heart," said she, "Mr. Penfolds, Fm prop- 
 erly jealous of you. To think of her coming here to see 
 you, and not me ! " 
 
 "But I didn't know you were here, STancy." l^en 
 
470 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 followed a stream of incLuiries, and such •warm-liearted 
 sympathy with all her dangers and troubles, that Helen 
 was led into revealing the cause of it all. 
 
 " Nancy," said she, solemnly, " the ship was wilfully 
 cast away ; there was a villain on board that made holes 
 in her on purpose, and sunk her." 
 
 Nancy lifted up her hands in astonishment. But Mr. 
 Penfold was far more surprised and agitated. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, don't say that ! " he cried. 
 
 "Why not, sir?" said Helen; "it is the truth; and 
 I have got the testimony of dying men to prove it." 
 
 "I am sorry for it. Pray don't let anybody know, 
 Why, Wardlaws would lose the insurance of a hundred 
 and sixty thousand pounds." 
 
 "Arthur Wardlaw knows it: my father told him." 
 
 " And he never told me," said Penfold, with growing 
 surprise. 
 
 "Goodness me! what a world it is," cried Nancy. 
 " Why, that was murder, and no less. It is a wonder she 
 wasn't drownded, and another friend into the bargain 
 that I had in that very ship. Oh, I wish I had the vil- 
 lain here that done it, I'd tear his eyes out." 
 
 Here the mite of a servant bounded in, radiant and 
 giggling, gave Nancy a triumphant glance, and popped 
 out again, holding the door open, through which in 
 slouched a seafaring man, drawn by Penfold's advertise- 
 ment, and decoyed into Nancy's presence by the imp of 
 a girl, who thought to please her mistress. 
 
 Nancy, who for some days had secretly expected this 
 visit, merely gave a little squeak ; but Helen uttered a 
 violent scream ; and, upon that, Wylie recognized her, 
 and literally staggered back a step or two, and these 
 words fell out of his mouth : — 
 
 "The sick girl!" 
 
 Helen ca,ught them. 
 
FOUIi PLAY. 471 
 
 "Ay!" cried she; "but she is alive in spite of you; 
 alive to denounce you and to punish you." 
 
 She darted forward, and her eyes flashed lightning. 
 
 " Look at this man, all of you," she cried. " Look at 
 him well: This is the wretch that scuttled the 
 Proserpine ! " 
 
472 POUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE LIX. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Helen, how can you say that ? " cried 
 Nancy, in utter dismay. "I'll lay my life poor Joe 
 never did no such wickedness." 
 
 But Helen waved her off without looking at her, and 
 pointed at Wylie. 
 
 " Are you blind ? "Why does he cringe and cower at 
 sight of me ? I tell you he scuttled the Proserpine, and 
 the great auger he did it with, I have seen and handled. 
 Yes, sir, you destroyed a ship, and the lives of many in- 
 nocent persons, whose blood now cries to Heaven against 
 you ; and if / am alive to tell the cruel tale, it is no 
 thanks to you ; for you did your best to kill me, and, 
 what is worse, to kill Eobert Penfold, this gentleman's 
 son ; for he was on board the ship. You are no better 
 than an assassin." 
 
 " I am a man that's down," said Wylie, in a low and 
 broken voice, hanging his head. "Don't hit me any 
 more. I didn't mean to take anybody's life : I took my 
 chance with the rest. Lady, as I'm a man, I have lain in 
 my bed many's the night, crying like a child, with think- 
 ing you were dead. And now I am glad you are alive, to 
 be revenged on me. Well, you see, it is your turn now ; 
 you have lost me my sweetheart there ; she'll never 
 speak to me again after this. Ah, the poor man gets all 
 the blame. You don't ask who tempted me ; and, if I 
 was to tell you, you'd hate me worse than ever ; so I'll 
 belay. If I'm a sinner, I'm a sufferer: England's too 
 hot to hold me ; I've only to go to sea, and get drowned 
 the quickest way." And with this he vented a deep 
 sigh, and slouched out of the room. 
 
FOUL PIAY. 473 
 
 Nancy sank into a seat, and threw her apron over her 
 head, and rocked and sobbed as if her heart would break. 
 
 As for Helen Eolleston, she still stood in the middle 
 of the room, burning with excitement. 
 
 Then poor old Michael came to her, ajid said, almost 
 in a whisper, " It is a bad business ; he is her sweetheart, 
 and she had the highest opinion of him." 
 
 This softened Helen in a great measure. She turned 
 and looked at Nancy, and said : " Oh, dear ! what a mis- 
 erable thing. But I couldn't know that." 
 
 After a while, she drew a chair, and sat down by 
 Nancy, and said : " I won't punish him, NanCy." 
 
 Nancy burst out sobbing afresh. 
 
 " You have punished him," said she, brusquely, " and 
 me too, as never did you no harm. You have driven him 
 out of the country, you have." 
 
 At this piece of feminine justice Helen's anger revived. 
 " So, then," said she, " ships are to be destroyed, and 
 ladies and gentlemen murdered, and nobody is to com- 
 plain, nor say an angry word, if the wretch happens to 
 be paying his addresses to you : that makes up for all the 
 crimes in the world. What ! Can an honest woman like 
 you lose all sense of right and wrong for a man ? And 
 such a man ! " 
 
 " Why, he is as well-made a fellow as ever I saw," 
 sobbed Nancy. 
 
 "Oh, is he?" said Helen, ironically — her views of 
 manly beauty were different, and black eyes a sine qua 
 non with het — "then it is a pity his soul is not made to 
 correspond. I hope by my next visit you will have 
 learned to despise him as you ought. Why, if I loved a 
 man ever so, I'd tear him out of my heart if he com- 
 mitted a crime ; ay, though I tore my soul out of my 
 body to do it." 
 
 " No, you wouldn't," said Nancy, tecoveriag some of 
 
474 FOUIi PLAY. 
 
 her natural pugnacity ; "for we are all tarred with the 
 same stick, gentle or simple." 
 
 "But I assure you I would," said Helen; "and so 
 ought you." 
 
 " Well, miss, you begin," cried Nancy, suddenly firing 
 up through her tears. " If the Proserpine was scuttled, 
 which I've your word for it. Miss Helen, and I never 
 knew you tell a lie, why, your sweetheart is more to 
 blame for it than mine." 
 
 Helen rose with dignity. 
 
 " Tou are in grief," said she. " I leave you to consider 
 whether you have done well to affront me in your own 
 house." And she was moving to the door with great 
 dignity when Nancy ran and stopped her. 
 
 "Oh, don't leave me so. Miss Helen," she cried; "don't 
 you go to quarrel with me for speaking the truth too 
 plain and rude, as is a plain-spoken body at the best; 
 and in such grief myself, I scarce know what I do say. 
 But, indeed, and in truth, you mustn't go and put it 
 abroad that the ship was scuttled ; if you do, you won't 
 hurt Joe Wylie; he'll get a ship, and fly the country. 
 Who you'll hurt will be your own husband, as is to be — 
 Wardlaws." 
 
 "Shall I, Mr. Penfold?" asked Helen disdainfully. 
 
 "Well, madam, certainly it might create some unworthy 
 suspicion." 
 
 "Suspicion?" cried Nancy. "Don't you think to 
 throw dust in my eyes. What had poor Joe to gain by 
 destroying that there ship, and risking his own life ? — 
 you know very well he was bribed to do it. And who 
 bribed him? Who should bribe him, but the man as 
 owned the ship ? " 
 
 "Miss Kouse," said Mr. Penfold, "I sympathize with 
 your grief, and make great allowance ; but I will not sit 
 here and hear my worthy employers blackened with such 
 
FOUL PLAT. 475 
 
 terrible insinuations. The great house of Wardlaw bribe 
 a sailor to scuttle their own ship, with Miss RoUeston 
 and one hundred and sixty thousand pounds' worth of 
 gold on board ! Monstrous — monstrous ! " 
 
 "Then what did Joe Wylie mean?" replied Nancy. 
 " Says he, ' The poor man gets all the blame. If I was 
 to tell you who tempted me,' says he, 'you'd hate me 
 worse.' Then I say, why should she hate him worse ? 
 Because it's her sweetheart tempted mine. I stands to 
 that." 
 
 This inference, thus worded, struck Helen as so droll 
 that she turned her head aside to giggle a little. But 
 old Penf old replied loftily, — 
 
 "Who cares what a Wylie says against a great old 
 mercantile house of London City ? " 
 
 " Very well, Mr. Penf olds," said Nancy, with one great 
 final sob, and dried her eyes with her apron; and she 
 did it with such an air, they both saw she was not going 
 to shed another tear about the matter. " Very well ; you 
 be both against me ; then I'll say no more. But I know 
 what I know." 
 
 " And what do you know ? " inquired Helen. 
 
 " Time will show," said Nancy, turning suddenly very 
 dogged. "Time will show." 
 
 Nothing more was to be got out of her after that ; and 
 Helen, soon after, made her a civil though stiff little 
 speech, regretted the pain she had inadvertently caused 
 her, and went away, after leaving Mr. Penfold her 
 address. 
 
 On her return home, she entered the whole adven- 
 ture in her diary. She made a separate entry to this 
 effect: — 
 
 Mysterious. — My letter to Mr. Penfold at the of&ce 
 intercepted. 
 
 Wylie hints that he was bribed by Messrs. Wardlaw. 
 
476 -POVL PLAT. 
 
 Nancy Eouse suspects that it was Arthur, and says 
 time will show. 
 
 As for me, I can neither see why Wylie should scuttle 
 the ship unless he was bribed by somebody, nor what 
 Arthur or his father could gain by destroying that ship. 
 This is all as dark as that more cruel mystery, which 
 alone I care to solve. 
 
FOUL PI4lY. 477 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 Next morning, after a sleepless night, Nancy Eouse 
 said to Mr. Penfold, "Haven't I heard you say as bank- 
 notes could be traced to folk ? " 
 
 "Certainly, madam," said Michael; "but it is necessary 
 to take the numbers of them." 
 
 « Oh ! And how do you do that ? " 
 
 " Why, every note has its own number," 
 
 "La! ye don't say so; then them fifties are all num- 
 bered, belike." 
 
 "Certainly, and if you wish me to take down the 
 numbers, I will do so." 
 
 "Well, sir, some other day you shall. I could not 
 bear the sight of them just yet ; for it is them as has 
 been the ruin of poor Joe Wylie, I do think." 
 
 Michael could not follow this ; but, the question having 
 been raised, he advised her, on grounds of common pru- 
 dence, not to keep them in the house without taking 
 down their numbers. 
 
 " We will talk about that in the evening," said Nancy. 
 
 Accordingly, at night, Nancy produced the notes, and 
 Michael took down the numbers and descriptions in his 
 pocketbook. They ran from 16,444 to 16,483. And he 
 promised her to try and ascertain through what hands 
 they had passed. He said he had a friend in the Bank 
 of England, who might perhaps be able to discover to 
 what private bank they had been issued in the first 
 instance, and then those bankers, on a strong represen- 
 tation, might perhaps examine their books and say to 
 whom they had paid them. Bfe told her the notes were 
 
478 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 quite new, and evidently had not been separated since 
 their £rst issue. 
 
 Kancy caught a glimpse of his meaning, and set her- 
 self doggedly to -watch until the person, who had passed 
 the notes through the chimney, should come for them. 
 "He will miss them," said she, "you mark my words." 
 
 Thus Helen, though reduced to a standstill herself, 
 had set an inquiry on foot, which was alive and rami- 
 fying- 
 
 In the course of a few days she received a visit from 
 Mrs. Undercliff. That lady came in, and laid a prayer- 
 book on the table, saying, "I have brought it you back, 
 miss; and I want you to do something for my satis- 
 faction." 
 
 « Oh, certainly," said Helen. " What is it ? " 
 
 "Well, miss, first examine the book and the writing. 
 Is it aU right?" 
 
 Helen examined it, and said it was. " Indeed," said 
 she, " the binding looks fresher, if anything." 
 
 "You have a good eye," said Mrs. Undercliff. "Well, 
 what I want you to do is — of course Mr. Wardlaw is a 
 good deal about you ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Does he go to church with you ever ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "But he would if you were to ask him." 
 
 " I have no doubt he would ; but why ? " 
 
 " Manage matters so that he shall go to church with 
 you, and then put the book down for him to see the 
 writing, all in a moment. Watch his face and tell me." 
 
 Helen colored up and said, "No; I can't do that. 
 Why, it would be turning God's temple into a trap. 
 Besides — " 
 
 "The real reason first, if you don't mind," said this 
 horribly shrewd old woman. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 479 
 
 "Well, Mr. Arthur Wardlaw is the gentleman I am 
 going to marry." 
 
 " Good heavens ! " cried Mrs. Undercliff, taken utterly 
 aback by this most unexpected turn. " Why, you never 
 told me that ! " 
 
 "No," said Helen blushingly. "I did not think it 
 necessary to go into that. WeU, of course it is not in 
 hiiman nature that Mr. Wardlaw should be zealous in my 
 good work, or put himself forward; but he has never 
 refused to lend me any help that was in his power ; and 
 it is repugnant to my nature to suspect him of a crime, 
 and to my feelings to lay a trap for him." 
 
 " Quite right," said Mis. Undercliff ; " of course I had 
 no idea you were going to marry Mr. Wardlaw. I made 
 sure Mr. Penfold was the man." 
 
 Helen blushed higher still, but made no reply. 
 
 Mrs. Undercliff turned the conversation directly. "My 
 son has given many hours to Mr. Hand's two letters, and 
 he told me to say he is beginning to doubt whether Mr. 
 Hand is a real person, with a real handwriting at all." 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Undercliff ! Why, he wrote me two letters. 
 However, I wiU ask Mr. Penfold whether Mr. Hand 
 exists or not. When shall I have the pleasure of seeing 
 you again ? " 
 
 "Whenever you like, my dear young lady; but not 
 upon this business of Penfold and Wardlaw. I have 
 done with it forever ; and my advice to you, miss, is 
 not to stir the mud any more." And with these myste- 
 rious words the old lady retired, leaving Helen deeply 
 discouraged at her desertion. 
 
 However she noted down the conversation in her diary, 
 and made this comment: — People find no pleasure in 
 proving an accused person innocent ; the charm is, to 
 detect guilt. This day a good, kind friend abandons me 
 because I will not turn aside from my charitable mission 
 
480 FOUJi PLAY. 
 
 to suspect another p^rgon -vrho is as wrongfully suspected 
 as he I love has been. 
 MmH'. ■• To see, or make inquiries about, Mr, Hand. 
 
 General Eolleston had taken a furnished house in 
 Hanover Square. He now moved into it, and Helen was 
 compelled to busy herself in household arrangements. 
 
 She made the house charming; but unfortunately 
 stood in ,a draught whilst heated, and caught a chill, 
 which a year ago would very likely have gone to her 
 lungs and killed her, but now settled on her limbs in 
 violent neuralgic pains and confined her to her bed for a 
 fortnight. 
 
 She suffered severely ; but had the consolation of find- 
 ing she was tenderly beloved. Arthur sent fl.owers every 
 day and affectionate notes twice a day. And her father 
 was constantly by her bedside. 
 
 At last she came down to the drawing-room, but lay 
 on the sofa, well wrapped up, and received only her most 
 intimate friends. The neuralgia had now settled on her 
 right arm and hand, so that she could not write a letter ; 
 and she said to herself, with a sigh, " Oh, how unfit a 
 girl is to do anything great. We always fall ill, just 
 when health and strength are most needed." 
 
 Nevertheless, during this period of illness and inaction, 
 circumstances occurred that gave her joy. 
 
 Old Wardlaw had long been exerting himself in influ- 
 ential channels to obtain what he called justice for his 
 friend RoUeston ; and had received some very encour- 
 aging promises ; for the general's services were indis- 
 putable; and while he was stirring the matter, Helen 
 was unconsciously co-operating by her be3,uty, and the 
 noise her adventure made in society. At last a gentle- 
 man, whose wife was about the Queen, promised old 
 Wardlaw one d^y that, jf a fair opportunity should 
 
POUX PLAT. 481 
 
 occur, that lady should tell Helen's adventure, and how 
 the gallant old general, when everybody else despaired, 
 had gone out to the Pacific and found his daughter and 
 brought her home. This lady was a courtier of ten 
 years' standing, and waited her opportunity ; but, when 
 it did come, she took it, and she soon found that no great 
 tact or skill was necessary on such an occasion as this. 
 She was listened to with ready sympathy, and the very 
 next day some inquiries were made, the result of which 
 was that the Horse-Guards offered Lieutenant-General 
 EoUeston the command of a crack regiment and a full 
 generalship. At the same time, it was intimated to him 
 from another ofBcial quarter that a baronetcy was at his 
 service, if he felt disposed to accept it. The tears came 
 into the stout old warrior's eyes, at this sudden sunshine 
 of royal favor, and Helen kissed old Wardlaw of her own 
 accord ; and the star of the Wardlaws rose into the 
 ascendant, and for a time Robert Penfold seemed to 
 be quite forgotten. 
 
 The very day General EoUeston became Sir Edward, a 
 man and a woman called at the Charing Cross Hotel, and 
 asked for Miss Helen EoUeston. 
 
 The answer was, she had left the hotel about ten days. 
 
 " Where is she gone, if you please ? " 
 
 "We don't know." 
 
 " Why, hasn't she left her new address ? " 
 
 " No. The footman came for letters several times." 
 
 No information was to be got here, and Mr. Penfold 
 and Nancy Eouse went home greatly puzzled what to do. 
 
 At first sight it might appear easy for Mr. Penfold to 
 learn the new address of Miss EoUeston. He had only 
 to ask Arthur Wardlaw. But, to teU the truth, during 
 the last fortnight Nancy Eouse had impressed her views 
 steadily and persistently on his mind, and he had also 
 31 
 
482 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 made a discovery that co-operated with her influence 
 and arguments to undermine his confidence in his 
 employer. What that discovery was, we must leave 
 him to relate. 
 
 Looking, then, at matters with a less unsuspicious eye 
 than heretofore, he could not help observing that Arthur 
 Wardlaw never put into the office letter-box a single 
 letter for his sweetheart. "He must write to her," 
 thought Michael : " but I am not to know her address. 
 Suppose after all he did intercept that letter." 
 
 And now, like other simple credulous men, whose con- 
 fidence has been shaken, he was literally brimful of 
 suspicions, some of them reasonable, some of them rather 
 absurd. 
 
 He had too little art to conceal his change of mind, 
 and so, very soon after his vain attempt to see Helen 
 EoUeston at the inn, he was bundled off to Scotland on 
 business of the office. 
 
 Nancy missed him sorely. She felt quite alone in the 
 world. She managed to get through the day — work 
 helped her; but at night she sat disconsolate and be- 
 wildered, and she was now beginning to doubt her own 
 theory. Por certainly, if all that money had been Joe 
 Wylie's, he would hardly have left the country without 
 it. 
 
 Now, the second evening after Michael's departure, 
 she was seated in his room, brooding, when suddenly she 
 heard a peculiar knocking next door. 
 
 She listened a little while, and then stole softly down- 
 stairs to her own little room. 
 
 Her suspicions were correct. It was the same sort of 
 knocking that had preceded the phenomenon of the hand 
 and bank-notes. She peeped into the kitchen and 
 whispered, "Jenny — Polly — come here." 
 
 A stout washerwoman and the mite of a servant came 
 
FOUL PLAY. 483 
 
 ■wondering. "Now you stand there," said Kancy, "and 
 do as I bid you. Hold your tongues now. I know all 
 about it." 
 
 The niyrmidons stood silent, but with panting bosoms ; 
 for the mysterious knocking now concluded, and a brick 
 in the chimney began to move. 
 
 It came out, and immediately a hand, with a ring on 
 it, came through the aperture and felt about. 
 
 The mite stood firm, but the big washerwoman gave 
 signs of agitation that promised to end in a scream. 
 
 Nancy put her hand roughly before the woman's mouth. 
 "Hold your tongue, ye great soft — " And without 
 finishing her sentence, she darted to the chimney, and 
 seized the hand with both her own, and pulled it with 
 such violence that the wrist followed it through the 
 masonry, and a muffled roar was heard. 
 
 "Hold on to my waist, Polly," she cried. "Jenny, 
 take the poker, and that string, and tie his hand to it 
 while we hold on. Quick ! quick ! Are ye asleep ? " 
 
 Thus adjured, the mite got the poker against the wall, 
 and tried to tie the wrist to it. 
 
 This, however, was not so easy: the hand struggled 
 so desperately. 
 
 However, pulling is a matter of weight rather than 
 muscle : and the weight of the two women pulling down- 
 wards overpowered the violent struggles of the man; 
 and the mite contrived to tie the poker to the wrist, and 
 repeat the ligatures a dozen times in a figure of eight. 
 
 Then the owner of the hand, who had hitherto shown 
 violent strength taken at a disadvantage, now showed 
 intelligence. Convinced that skill as well as force were 
 against him, he ceased to struggle and became quite quiet. 
 
 The women contemplated their feat with flushed cheeks 
 and sparkling eyes. 
 
 When they had feasted a reasonable time on the 
 
484 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 imprisoned hand, and two of them, true to their sex, had 
 scrutinized a green stone upon one of the fingers to see 
 whether it was real or false, Nancy took them by the 
 shoulders and bundled them good-humoredly out of the 
 room. 
 
 She then lowered the gas and came out, and locked 
 the room up, and put the key in her pocket. 
 
 " I'll have my supper with you," said she. " Come, 
 Jenny, I'm cook ; and you make the kitchen as a body 
 could eat off it, for I expecs visitors." 
 
 "La, ma'am," said the mite; "he can't get out of the 
 chimbly to visit hus through the street door." 
 
 " No, girl," said Nancy. " But he can send a hambas- 
 sador: so Show her heyes and plague her art, as the 
 play says, for of all the dirty kitchens give me hers. I 
 never was there but once, and my slipper came off for 
 the muck, a-sticking to a body like a birdlime." 
 
 There was a knock at Nancy's street ; the little servant, 
 ^uU of curiosity, was for running to it on the instant. 
 But Nancy checked her. 
 
 "Take your time," said she. "It is only a lodging- 
 house keeper." 
 
FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE LXI. 
 
 SiE Edward Eolleston could not but feel Ms obligar 
 tions to the Wardlaws, and, wlien his daughter got better, 
 he spoke warmly on the subject, and asked her to con- 
 sider seriously whether she had not tried Arthur's affec- 
 tion sufficiently. 
 
 "He does not complain to you, I know," said he ; "but 
 he feels it very hard, that you should punish him for an 
 act of injustice which has already so deeply afilicted him. 
 He says he believes some fool or villain heard him say 
 that two thousand pounds was to be borrowed between 
 them, and went and imposed on Eobert Penfold's credu- 
 lity, meaning, perhaps, to call again after the note had 
 been cashed, and get Arthur's share of the money." 
 
 " But why did not Arthur come forward ? " -^ 
 
 •'' He declares he did not know when the trial was, till 
 a month after, and his father bears him out : says he was 
 actually delirious, and his life in danger. I myself can 
 testify that he was cut down just in this way, when he 
 heard the Proserpine was lost, and you on board her. 
 Why not give him credit for the same genuine distress 
 at young Penfold's misfortune ? Come, Helen, is it fair 
 to aflict and punish this gentleman for the misfortune 
 of another, whom he never speaks of but with affection 
 and pity ? He says that if you woidd marry him at once, 
 he thinks he should feel strong enough to throw himself 
 into the case with you, and would spare neither money 
 nor labor to clear Eobert Penf old ; but, as it is, he says 
 he feels so wretched and so tortured with jealousy, that 
 he can't co-operate warmly with you, though his con- 
 
486 POtJL PLAY. 
 
 science reproaches Mm every day. Poor young man! 
 His is really a very hard case ; for you promised him 
 your hand before you ever saw Eobert Penfold." 
 
 "I did," said Helen; "but I did not say when. Let 
 me have one year for my good work, before I devote my 
 whole life to Arthur." 
 
 " Well, it will be a year wasted. Why postpone your 
 marriage for that ? " 
 
 " I promised." 
 
 " Yes ; but he chose to fancy young Wardlaw is his 
 enemy. You might relax that, now Arthur tells you he 
 will co-operate with you as your husband. Now, Helen, 
 teU the truth — is it a woman's work ? Have you found 
 it so ? Will not Arthur do it better than you ? " 
 
 Helen, weakened already by days of suffering, began 
 to cry, and say, "What shall I do ? — what shall I do ? " 
 
 " If you have any doubt, my dear," said Sir Edward, 
 "then think of what I owe to the Wardlaws." 
 
 And, with that, he kissed her, and left her in tears ; 
 and, soon after, sent Arthur himself up to plead his own 
 cause. 
 
 It was a fine summer afternoon. The long French 
 casements, looking on the garden of the square, were 
 open, and the balmy air came in and wooed the beauti- 
 ful girl's cheek, and just stirred her hair at times. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw came softly in, and gazed at her as 
 she lay. Her loveliness filled his heart and soul. He 
 came and knelt by her sofa, and took her hand, and 
 kissed it, and his own eyes glistened with tenderness. 
 
 He had one thing in his favor. He loved her. 
 
 Her knowledge of this had more than once befriended 
 him, and made her refuse to suspect him of any great 
 111 ; it befriended him now. She turned a look of angeUo 
 pity on him. 
 
 "Poor Arthur!" she said. "You and I are both 
 unhappy." 
 
FOUL PLAT. 487 
 
 "Bat we shall be happy ere long, I hope," said Arthur. 
 
 Helen shook her head. 
 
 Then he petted her, and coaxed her, and said he would 
 be her servant as well as her husband, and no wish of 
 her heart should go ungratified. 
 
 " None ? " said she, fixing her eyes on him. 
 
 " Not one," said he ; " upon my honor ! " 
 
 Then he was so soft and persuasive, and alluded so 
 delicately to her plighted faith, that she felt like a poor 
 bird, caught in a silken net. 
 
 "Sir Edward is very good," said he; "he feels for me." 
 
 At that moment a note was sent up. 
 
 "Mr. Wardlaw is here, and has asked me when the 
 marriage is to be. I can't tell him. I look like a fooL" 
 
 Helen sighed deeply, and began to shed those tears 
 that weaken a woman. She glanced despairingly to and 
 fro, and saw no escape. Then, Heaven knows why or 
 wherefore, — probably with no clear design at all but a 
 woman's weak desire to cause a momentary diversion : 
 to put off the inevitable for five minutes, — she said to 
 Arthur, " Please give me that prayer-book. Thank you. 
 It is right you should know this." And she put Cooper's 
 deposition and Welch's into his hands. 
 
 He devoured them, and started up in great indignation. 
 " It is an abominable slander," said he. " We have lost 
 ten thousand pounds by the wreck of that ship, and 
 Wylie's life was saved by a miracle as well as your own. 
 It is a foul slander. I hurl it from me." And he made 
 his words good by whirling the prayer-book out of the 
 window. 
 
 Helen uttered a scream. " My mother's prayer-book ! " 
 she cried. 
 
 " Oh ! I beg pardon," said he. 
 
 "And well you may," said she. "King, and send 
 George after it" 
 
488 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 "No, I'll go myself," said he. "Pray forgive me. 
 You don't know what a terrible slander they have 
 desecrated your prayer-book with." 
 
 He ran out, and was a long time gone. He came back 
 at last, looking terrified. 
 
 " I can't find it," said he ; " somebody has carried it 
 off. Oh, how unfortunate I am ! " 
 
 " Not find it ! " said Helen. " But it must be found." 
 
 "Of course, it must be found," said Arthur. "A 
 pretty scandal to go into the hands of Heaven knows 
 who ! I shall offer twenty guineas reward for it at once. 
 I'll go down to the Times this moment. Was ever any- 
 thing so unlucky ? " 
 
 "Yes, go at once," said Helen, "and I'll send the 
 servants into the square. I don't want to say anything 
 unkind, Arthur, but you ought not to have thrown my 
 prayer-book into the public street." 
 
 "I know I ought not. I am ashamed of it myself." 
 
 "Well, let me see the advertisement." 
 
 " You shall. I have no doubt we shall recover it." 
 
 Next morning the Times contained an advertisement, 
 offering twenty guineas for a prayer-book lost in Hanover 
 Square, and valuable not in itself, but as a relic of a 
 deceased parent. 
 
 In the afternoon, Arthur called to know if anybody 
 had brought the prayer-book back. 
 
 Helen shook her head sadly, and said, " No." 
 
 He seemed very sorry, and so penitent, that Helen 
 said, " Do not despair ; and, if it is gone, why, I must 
 remember you have forgiven me something, and I must 
 forgive you." 
 
 The footman came in. 
 
 " If you please, miss, here is a woman wishes to speak 
 to you ; says she has brought a prayer-book." 
 
 " Oh, show her up at once ! " cried Helen. 
 
POTJL PLAY. 489 
 
 Arthur turned away liis head to hide a cynical smile. 
 He had good reasons for thinking it was not the one he 
 had flung out of the window yesterday. 
 
 A tall woman came in, wearing a thick veil that con- 
 cealed her features. 
 
 She entered on her business at once. 
 
 "You lost a prayer-book in this square yesterday, 
 madam." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " You offer twenty guineas reward for it." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Please to look at this one." 
 
 Helen examined it, and said, with joy, it was hers. 
 
 Arthur was thunderstruck. He could not believe his 
 senses. 
 
 " Let me look at it," said he. 
 
 His eyes went at once to the writing. He turned as 
 pale as death, and stood petrified. 
 
 The woman took the prayer-book out of his unresisting 
 hand, and said, — 
 
 "You'll excuse me, sir; but it is a large reward, and 
 gentlefolks sometimes go from their word when the 
 article is found." 
 
 Helen, who was delighted at getting back her book, 
 and rather tickled at Arthur having to pay twenty 
 guineas for losing it, burst out laughing, and said: "Give 
 her the reward, Arthur ; I am not going to pay for your 
 misdeeds." 
 
 "With all my heart," said Arthur, struggling for 
 composure. 
 
 He sat down to draw a check. 
 
 "What name shall I put?" 
 
 « Hum ! Edith Hesket." 
 
 "Twot's?" 
 
 "No, only one." 
 
490 FOtrii PLAY. 
 
 "There." 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 She put the check into her purse, and brought the 
 prayer-book to Helen. 
 
 "Lock it up at once," said she, in a voice so low that 
 Arthur heard a murmur, but not the words; and she 
 retired, leaving Helen staring with amazement, and 
 Arthur in a cold perspiration. 
 
POUL PLAY. 491 
 
 CHAPTEE LXn. 
 
 When the Springbok weighed anchor and left the 
 island, a solitary form was seen on Telegraph Hill. 
 
 When she passed eastward, out of sight of that point, 
 a solitary figure was seen on the cliffs. 
 
 When her course brought the island dead astern of 
 her, a solitary figure stood on the east bluff of the 
 island, and was the last object seen from the boat as she 
 left those waters forever. 
 
 What words can tell the sickening sorrow and utter 
 desolation that possessed that yearning bosom ! 
 
 When the boat that had carried Helen away was out 
 of sight, he came back with uneven steps to the cave, 
 and looked at all the familiar objects with stony eyes, 
 and scarce recognized them, for the sunshine of her 
 presence was there no more. He wandered to and fro 
 in a heavy stupor, broken every now and then by sharp 
 pangs of agony that almost made him scream. And so 
 the poor, bereaved creature wandered about all day. He 
 could not eat, he could not sleep, his misery was more 
 than he could bear. One day of desolation succeeded 
 another. And what men say so hastily was true for 
 once. "His life was a burden." He dragged it about 
 with him, he scarce knew how. 
 
 He began to hate all the things he had loved whilst 
 she was there. The beautiful cave, all glorious with 
 pearl, that he had made for her, he could not enter it ; 
 the sight killed him, and she not there. 
 
 He left Paradise Bay altogether at last, and anchored 
 his boat in a nook of Seal Bay. And there he slept in 
 
492 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 general. But sometimes he would lie down, wherever 
 he happened to be, and sleep as long as he could. 
 
 To him to wake was a calamity. And, when he did 
 wake, it was always with a dire sense of reviving miseiy, 
 and a deep sigh at the dark day he knew awaited him. 
 
 His flesh wasted on his bones, and his clothes hung 
 loosely about him. The sorrow of the mind reduced 
 him almost to that miserable condition in which he had 
 landed on the island. 
 
 The dog and the seal were faithful to him : used to lie 
 beside him, and often whimpered; their minds, accus- 
 tomed to communicate without the aid of speech, found 
 out, Heaven knows how, that he was in grief or in 
 sickness. 
 
 These two creatures, perhaps, saved his life, or his 
 reason. They came between his bereaved heart and 
 utter solitude. 
 
 Thus passed a month of wretchedness unspeakable. 
 
 Then his grief took a less sullen form. 
 
 He came back to Paradise Bay, and at sight of it 
 burst into a passion of weeping. 
 
 These were his first tears, and inaugurated a grief 
 more tender than ever, but less akin to madness and 
 despair. 
 
 Now he used to go about and cry her name aloud, pas- 
 sionately, by night and day. 
 
 "Oh, Helen! Helen!" 
 
 And next, his mind changed in one respect, and he 
 clung to every reminiscence of her. Every morning 
 he went round her haunts, and kissed every place where 
 he had seen her put her hand. 
 
 Only the cave he could not yet face. 
 
 He tried, too. He went to the mouth of it again and 
 again, and looked in ; but go into it and face it, empty 
 of her — he could not. 
 
FOTJIi PLAY. 493 
 
 He prayed often. 
 
 One night lie saw her in a dream. 
 
 She bent a look of angelic pity on him, and said but 
 these words, " Live in my caye," then vanished. 
 
 Alone on an island in the vast Pacific, who can escape 
 superstition ? It fills the air. He took this communi- 
 cation as a command, and the next night he slept in the 
 cave. 
 
 But he entered it in the dark and left it before dawn. 
 
 By degrees, however, he plucked up courage, and faced 
 it in daylight. But it was a sad trial; he came out 
 crying bitterly after a few minutes. 
 
 Still he persevered, because her image had bade him, 
 and at last, one evening, he even lighted the lamp, and 
 sat there, looking at the glorious walls and roof his hap- 
 less love had made. 
 
 Getting stronger by degrees, he searched about and 
 found little relies of her, a glove, a needle, a great hat 
 she had made out of some large leaves. And all these 
 he wept over and cherished. 
 
 But one day he found at the very back of the cave a 
 relic, that made him start as if a viper had stung his 
 loving heart. It was a letter. 
 
 He knew it in a moment. It had already caused Mm 
 many a pang ; but now it almost drove him mad. Arthur 
 Wardlaw's letter. 
 
 He recoiled from it and let it lie. He went out of the 
 cave, and cursed his hard fate. But he came back. It 
 was one of those horrible things a man abhors, yet can- 
 not keep away from. He took it up, and dashed it down 
 with rage many times ; but it all ended in his lighting 
 the lamp at night, and torturing himself with every 
 word of that loving letter. 
 
 And she was going home to the writer of that letter, 
 and he was left prisoner on the island. He cursed his 
 
494 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 generous folly, and writhed in agony at the thought. 
 He raged with jealousy, so that his very grief was 
 blunted for a time. 
 
 He felt as if he must go mad. 
 
 Then he prayed — prayed fervently. And at last, 
 worn out with such fierce and contending emotions, he 
 fell into a deep sleep, and did not wake till the sun was 
 high in heaven. 
 
 He woke; and the first thing he saw was the fatal 
 letter lying at his feet in a narrow stream of sunshine 
 that came peering in. 
 
 He eyed it with horror. This, then, was to haunt him 
 by night and day. 
 
 He eyed it, and eyed it. Then turned his face from 
 it. But could not help eying it again. 
 
 And at last, certain words in this letter seemed to 
 him to bear an affinity to another piece of writing that 
 had also caused him a great woe. Memory, by its subtle 
 links, connected these two enemies of his together. He 
 eyed it still more keenly, and that impression became 
 strengthened. He took the letter and looked at it close, 
 and held it at arm's length, and devoured it, and the 
 effect of this keen examination was very remarkable. 
 It seemed to restore the man to energy and to something 
 like hope. His eyes sparkled, and a triumphant ah! 
 burst from his bosom. 
 
 He became once more a man of action. He rose, and 
 bathed, and walked rapidly to and fro upon the sands, 
 working himself up to a daring enterprise. He took his 
 saw into the jungle, and cut down a tree of a kind 
 common enough there. It was wonderfully soft, and 
 almost as light as cork. The wood of this tree was lit- 
 erally useless for any other purpose than that to which 
 Penfold destined it. He cut a great many blocks of this 
 wood, and drilled holes in them, and, having hundreds 
 
FOTIL PLAY. 
 
 of yards Of good line, attached these quasi corks to the 
 gunwale, so as to make a lifeboat. This work took him 
 several days, during which time an event occurred that 
 encouraged him. 
 
 One morning he saw about a million birds very busy 
 in the bay, and it proved to be a spermaceti whale come 
 ashore. 
 
 He went out to her directly with all his tools, for 
 he wanted oil for his enterprise, and the seal oil was 
 exhausted. 
 
 When he got near the whale in his boat, he observed 
 a harpoon sticking in the animal's back. He cut steps 
 with his axe in the slippery carcass, and got up to it as 
 well as he could, extracted it by cutting and pulling, and 
 threw it down into his boat, but not till he had taken 
 the precaution to stick a great piece of blubber on the 
 barbed point. He then sawed and hacked under difficul- 
 ties, being buffeted and bothered with thousands of 
 birds, so eager for slices, that it was as much as he could 
 do to avoid the making of minced fowl ; but true to his 
 gentle creed, he contrived to get three hundred weight 
 of blubber without downright killing any of these 
 greedy competitors, though he buffeted some of them, 
 and nearly knocked out what little sense they had. He 
 came ashore with his blubber and harpoon, and, when he 
 came to examine the latter, he found that the name of 
 the owner was cut deeply in the steel. Josh. Fullalove, 
 J. Fernandez. This inscription had a great effect on 
 Robert Penfold's mind. It seemed to bring the island 
 of Juan Fernandez, and humanity in general, nearer to 
 him. 
 
 He boiled down the blubber, and put a barrel of oil on 
 board his life-boat. He had a ship's lantern to bum it 
 in. He also pitched her bottom as faa; as he could get 
 at it, and provisioned her for a long voyage ; taking care 
 
496 FOTTL PLAY. 
 
 to lash the water-cask and beef-eask to the fore thwart 
 and foremast, in case of rough water. 
 
 When he had done all this, it occurred to him sud- 
 denly, that should he ever escape the winds and waves, 
 and get to England, he would then have to encounter 
 dif&culties and dangers of another class, and lose the 
 battle by his poverty. 
 
 " I play my last stake now," said he. " I will throw 
 no chance away." 
 
 He reflected, with great bitterness, on the misery that 
 want of money had already brought on him, and he 
 vowed to reach England rich, or go to the bottom of the 
 Pacific. 
 
 This may seem a strange vow for a man to make on 
 an unknown island ; but Robert Penfold had a powerful 
 understanding, sharpened by adversity, and his judgment 
 told him truly that he possessed wealth on this island, 
 both directly and indirectly. In the first place, knowl- 
 edge is sometimes wealth, and the knowledge of this 
 island was a thing he could sell to the American mer- 
 chants on the coast of Chili ; and with this view, he put 
 on board his boat specimens of the cassia and other 
 woods, fruit, spices, pitch, guano, pink and red coral, 
 pearl oysters, shells, cochineal, quartz, cotton, etc., etc. 
 
 Then he took his chisel and struck all the larger pearls 
 off the shells that lined Helen's cave. The walls and 
 roof yielded nine enormous pearls, thirty large ones, 
 and a great many of the usual size. 
 
 He made a pocket inside his waistcoat to hold the 
 pearls safe. 
 
 Then he took his spade and dug into the Spanish ship 
 for treasure. But this was terrible work. The sand 
 returned upon the spade and trebled his labor. 
 
 The condition to which time and long submersion had 
 reduced this ship and cargo was truly remarkable. 
 
FOTTL PLAY. 497 
 
 Wothing to be seen of the deck but a thin brown streak 
 that mingled with the sand in patches : of the timbers 
 nothing but the uprights, and of those the larger half 
 eaten and dissolved. 
 
 He dug five days and found nothing solid. 
 
 On the sixth, being now at the bottom of the ship, he 
 struck his spade against something hard and heavy. 
 
 On inspection it looked like ore, but of what metal 
 he could not tell ; it was as black as a coal. He threw 
 this on one side, and found nothing more ; but the next 
 day he turned up some smaller fragments, which he took 
 home and cleaned with lime juice. 
 
 They came out bright in places like silver, and the 
 preceding is a fair representation of their appearance. 
 
 One piece was evidently a conglomeration of several 
 silver coins, and the other was a single coin encrusted 
 with some marine growth or other. 
 
 This discovery threw light on the other. The piece 
 of black ore, weighing about seven pounds, was in reality 
 silver coin that a century of submersion had reduced to 
 the very appearance it wore before it ever went into the 
 furnace. 
 
 He dug with fresh energy on this discovery, but found 
 nothing more in the ship that day. 
 32 
 
498 
 
 FOUL PLAY* 
 
 Then it occurred to him to carry off a few hundred 
 weight of pink coral. 
 
 He got some fine specimens; and, while he was at 
 that work, he fell in with a piece that looked very solid 
 at the root, and unnaturally heavy. On a nearer exami- 
 nation this proved to be a foreign substance encrusted 
 with coral. It had twined and twisted and cuyled over 
 the thing in a most unheard-of way. Robert took it 
 home, and by rubbing here and there with lemon juice, 
 at last satisfied himself that this object was a silver box 
 about the size of an octavo volume. 
 
 It had no keyhole : had evidently been soldered up 
 for greater security ; and Robert was left to conjecture 
 how it had come there. We subjoin a representation of 
 this curious object. 
 
 He connected it at once with the ship, and felt assured 
 that some attempt had been made to save it. There it 
 had lain by the side of the vessel all these years, but 
 falling clear of the sand had been embraced by the 
 growing coral, and was now a curiosity, if not a treasure. 
 
FOTTL PLAT. 499 
 
 He would not break the coral, but put it on board his 
 life-boat just as it was. 
 
 And now he dug no more. He thought he could sell 
 the galleon as well as the island, by sample, and he was 
 impatient to be gone. 
 
 He reproached himself, a little unjustly, for allowing 
 a woman to undertake the task of clearing him. 
 
 "To what aomoyances, and perhaps affronts, have I 
 exposed her!" said he. "Ko, itis a man's business to 
 defend, not to be defended." 
 
 To conclude. At high tide one fine afternoon he went 
 on board with Ponto, and, hoisting his foresail only, 
 crossed the bay, ranging along the island till he reached 
 the bluff. He got under this, and by means of his com- 
 pass and previous observations, set the boat's head 
 exactly on the line the ducks used to take. Then he 
 set his mainsail too, and sti^etched boldly out across the 
 great Pacific Ocean. 
 
 Time seems to wear out everything, even bad luck. 
 It ran strong against Eobert Penf old for years : but, 
 when it had struck its worst blow, and parted him and 
 Helen Rolleston, it relaxed, and a tide of good luck set 
 in, which, unfortunately, the broken-hearted man could 
 not appreciate at the time. However, so it was. He 
 wanted oil, and a whale came ashore. He wanted 
 treasure, and the sea gave him a little back of all it had 
 swallowed: and now he wanted fine weather; and the 
 ocean for days and nights was like peach-colored glass, 
 dimpled here and there : and soft westerly airs fanned 
 him along by night and day. 
 
 To be sure, he was on the true Pacific Ocean, at a 
 period when it is really free from storms. Still, even 
 for that latitude, he had wonderful weather for six days, 
 and on the seventh he fell in with a schooner, the skip- 
 
500 POTTL PLAT, 
 
 per and crew of wMeli looked over the bulwarks at him 
 ■with wonder and cordiality, and, casting out a rope 
 astern, took him in tow. 
 
 The skipper had been eying him with amazement for 
 some hours through his telescope : but he was a man 
 that had seen a great many strange things, and it was 
 also a point of honor with him never to allow that he 
 was astonished, or taken by surprise, or greatly moved. 
 
 "Wal, stranger," said he, "what craft is that ?" 
 
 " The Helen." 
 
 " Where d'ye hail from ? — not that I am curious." 
 
 "From an unknown island." 
 
 "Do tell. What, another! Is it anyways nigh ? " 
 
 " Not within seven hundred miles." 
 
 " Je — rusalem ! Have you sailed all that in a cockle 
 sheU?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Why, what are ye ? the Wandering Jew afloat, or the 
 Ancient Mariner ? or only a kinder nautilus ? " 
 
 " I'm a landsman." 
 
 "A landsman! then so is Neptune. What is your 
 name, when you are ashore ? " 
 
 " Eobert Penf old. The Eev. Eobert Penf old." 
 
 « The Eev. ! — Je— rusalem ! " 
 
 " May I ask what is your name, sir ? " 
 
 "Wal, I reckon you may, stranger. I'm Joshua 
 FuUalove from the States, at present located on the 
 island of Juan Fernandez." 
 
 "Joshua FuUalove! That is lucky. I've got some- 
 thing that belongs to you." 
 
 He looked about and found the harpoon, and handed 
 it up in a mighty straightforward simple way. 
 
 Joshua stared at him incredulously at first : but after- 
 wards Tiyth amazement. He handled the harpoon, and 
 inquired where Eobert had fallen in with it. Eobert 
 told him. 
 
FOUIi PLAY. 601 
 
 "You're an honest man," said FuUalove, "you air. 
 Come aboard." He was then pleased to congratulate 
 himseK on his strange luck in having drifted across an 
 honest man in the middle of the ocean. "I've heerd," 
 said he, " of an old chap as groped about all his life with 
 a lantern and couldn't find one. Let's liquor." 
 
 He had some celestial mixture or other made, including 
 rum, mint, and snow from the Andes, and then began his 
 interrogatories again, disclaiming curiosity at set intervals. 
 
 " Whither bound, honest man ? " 
 
 "The coast of Chili." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "Trade." 
 
 "D'ye bye or sell ? Not that it is my business." 
 
 "I wish to sell." 
 
 " What's the merchandise ? " 
 
 " Knowledge : and treasure." 
 
 FuUalove scratched his head. "Han't ye got a few 
 conundrums to swap for gold-dust as weU?" 
 
 Kobert smiled, faintly : the first time this six weeks. 
 
 " I have to seU the knowledge of an island, with rich 
 products ; and I have to sell the contents of a Spanish 
 treasure ship, that I found buried in the sand of that 
 island." 
 
 The Yankee's eyes glistened. 
 
 "Wal," said he, "I do business in islands myself. 
 I've leased this Juan Fernandez. But one of them is 
 enough at a time. I'm monarch of all I survey: but 
 then what I survey is a mixallaneous bilin' of Irish and 
 Otaheitans, that it's pison to be monarch of. And now 
 them darned Irish has taken to converting the heathens 
 to superstition and the worship of images, and breaks 
 their heads if they won't: and the heathens are all 
 smiles and sweetness and immorality. No, islands is 
 no bait to me." 
 
502 
 
 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 
 " I never asked you," said Eobert. " What I do ask 
 you is to land me at Valparaiso. There I'll find a pur- 
 chaser, and will pay you handsomely for your kindness." 
 
 " That is fair," said Fullalove, dryly. " What ■will you 
 pay me ? " 
 
 "I'll show you," said Eobert. He took out of his 
 pocket the smaller conglomeration of Spanish -coin, and 
 put it into Fullalove's hand. "That," said he, "is silver 
 coin I dug out of the galleon." 
 
 FuUalove inspected it keenly, and trembled slightly. 
 Eobert then went lightly over the taffrail and slid down 
 the low rope into his boat. He held up the black mass 
 we have described. 
 
 " This is solid silver. I will give it you, and my best 
 thanks, to land me at Valparaiso." 
 
 '' Heave it aboard," said the Yankee. 
 
 Eobert steadied himself, and hove it on board. The 
 Yankee caught it, heavy as it was, and subjected it to 
 some chemical test directly. 
 
 "Wal," said he, "that is a bargain. I'll, land ye at 
 Valparaiso for this. Jack, ■ lay her head S.S.E. and 
 by E." 
 
 Having given this order, he leaned over the taffrail 
 and asked for more samples. Eobert showed him the 
 fruits, woods, and shells, and the pink coral ; and bade 
 him observe that the boat was ballasted with pearl 
 oysters. He threw him up one, and a bunch of pink 
 coral. He then shinned up the rope again, and the 
 interrogatories recommenced. But this time he was 
 questioned closely as to who he was, and how he came 
 on the island? and the questions were so shrewd and 
 penetrating that his fortitude gave way, and he cried 
 out in anguish, " Man, man ! do not torture me so. Oh ! 
 do not make me talk of my grief, and my wrongs ; they 
 are more than I can bear." 
 
FOUL PLAY. 503 
 
 FullaloTe forbore directly, and offered Wm a cigar. 
 He took it, and it sootlied Hni a little ; it was long since 
 he had smoked one. His agitation subsided, and a quiet 
 tear or two rolled down his haggard cheek. 
 
 The Yankee saw, and kept silence. ' 
 
 But when the cigar was nearly smoked out, he said he 
 was afraid Eobert would not find a customer for his 
 island, and what a pity Joshua Fullalove was cool on 
 islands just now. 
 
 "Oh!" said Eobert, "I know there are enterprising 
 Americans on the coast who will give me money for 
 what I have to sell." 
 
 Fullalove was silent a minute, then he got a piece of 
 wood and a knife, and said, with an air of resignation : 
 
 " I reckon we'll hev to deal." 
 
 Need we say that to deal had been his eager desire 
 from the first ? 
 
 He now began to whittle a peg, and awaited the 
 attack. 
 
 "What will you give me, sir ? " 
 
 " What, money down ? And you got nothing to sell 
 but chances. Why, there's an old cuSs about, that knows 
 where the island is as well as you do." 
 
 " Then of course you will treat with him," said Eobert, 
 sadly. 
 
 "Darned if I do," said the Yankee. "You are in 
 trouble, and he is not, nor never will be till he dies, 
 and then he'll get it hot I calc'late. He is a thief, and 
 stole my harpoon ; you are an honest man, and brought 
 it back. I reckon I'll deal with you and not with that 
 old cuss ; not by a jugfull ! But it must be on a per- 
 centage. You teU me the bearings of that there island, 
 and I'll work it and pay five per cent on the gross." 
 
 "Would you mind throwing that piece of wood into 
 the sea, Mr. Fullalove ? " said Eobert. 
 
504 FOTIL PLAY. 
 
 "Caen't be done, noliow. I caen't deal witliout 
 whittlin'." 
 
 " You mean you can't take an unfair advantage with- 
 out it. Come, Mr. FuUalove, let us cut this short. I am, 
 as you say, an honest and most unfortunate man. Sir, 
 I was falsely accused of crime and banished my coun- 
 try. I can prove my innocence now if I can but get 
 home with a great deal of money. So much for me. 
 You are a member of the vainest and most generous 
 nation in the world." 
 
 " Wal, now that's kinder honey and vinegar mixed," 
 said Fullalove ; " pretty good for a Britisher, though." 
 
 "You are a man of that nation, which in all the 
 agonies and unparalleled expenses of civil war, smarting, 
 too, under anonymous taunts from England, did yet send 
 over a large sum to relieve the distresses of certain poor 
 Englishmen who were indirect victims of that same 
 calamity. The act, the time, the misery relieved, the 
 taunts overlooked, prove your nation superior to all 
 others in generosity. At least my reading, which is 
 very large, affords no parallel to it either in ancient or 
 modern history. Mr. FuUalove, please to recollect that 
 you are a member of that nation, and that I am very 
 unhappy and helpless, and want money to undo cruel 
 wrongs, but have no heart to chaffer much. Take the 
 island and the treasure, and give me half the profits you 
 make. Is not that fair ? " 
 
 FuUalove wore a rueful countenance. 
 
 "Darn the critter," said he, "he'll take the skin off 
 my bones if I don't mind. Fust Britisher ever I met 
 as had the sense to see that. T'was rather handsome, 
 warn't it ? Wal, human nature is deep ; every man you 
 tackle in business larns ye something. What with pick- 
 ing ye out o' the sea, and you giving me back the 
 harpoon the cuss stole, and yo\ir face like a young calf, 
 
FOUL PLAY. 605 
 
 when you are the cutest fox out, and you giving the 
 great C"-nited States their due, I'm no more fit to deal 
 than mashed potatoes. Now I cave : it is only for once. 
 Next time don't you try to palaver me. Draw me a map 
 of our island, Britisher, and mark where the Spaniard 
 lies : I tell you I know her name, and the year she was lost 
 in : lamed that at Lima one day. Kinder startled me, you 
 did, when you showed me the coin out of her. Wal, there's 
 my hand on haelf profits, and if I'm keen, I'm squar'." 
 
 Soon after this he led Robert to his cabin, and Robert 
 drew a large map from his models ; and FuUalove, being 
 himself an excellent draughtsman, and provided with 
 proper instruments, aided him to finish it. 
 
 Next day they sighted Valparaiso, and hove-to outside 
 the port. 
 
 All the specimens of insular wealth were put on board 
 the schooner and secreted, for Eullalove's first move was 
 to get a lease of the island from the Chilian government, 
 and it was no part of his plan to trumpet the article he 
 was going to buy. • 
 
 After a moment's hesitation, he declined to take the 
 seven pounds of silver. He gave as a reason, that having 
 made a bargain which compelled him to go to Valparaiso 
 at once, he did not feel like charging his partner a fancy 
 price for towing his boat thither. At the same time he 
 hinted that after all this, the next customer would find 
 him a very difficult Yankee to get the better of. 
 
 With this understanding, he gave Robert a draft for 
 eighty pounds on account of profits : and this enabled 
 him to take a passage for England with aU his belongings. 
 
 He arrived at Southampton very soon after the events 
 last related, and thence went to London, fully alive to 
 the danger of his position. 
 
 He had a friend in his long beard, but he dared not 
 rely on that alone. Like a mole, he worked at night. 
 
506 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTER LXin. 
 
 Helen asked Arthur Wardlaw why lie was so surprised 
 at the prayer-book being brought back. Was it worth 
 twenty pounds to any one except herself ? 
 
 Arthur looked keenly at her to see whether she in- 
 tended more than met the ear, and then said that he 
 was surprised at the rapid effect of his advertisement, 
 that was all. 
 
 "Now you have got the book," said he, "I do hope 
 you will erase that cruel slander on one whom you mean 
 to honor with your hand." 
 
 This proposal made Helen blush, and feel very miser- 
 able. Of the obnoxious lines some were written by 
 Eobert Penfold, and she had so little of his dear hand- 
 writing. "I feel you are right, Arthur," said she; "but 
 you must give me time. They shall meet no eye but 
 mine ; and on our wedding-day — of course — all memo- 
 rials of one — " Tears completed the sentence. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw, raging with jealousy at the absent 
 Penfold as heretofore Penfold had raged at him, heaved 
 a deep sigh and hurried away, while Helen was locking 
 up the prayer-book in her desk. By this means he retained 
 Helen's pity. 
 
 He went home directly, mounted to his bedroom, un- 
 locked a safe, and plunged his hand into it. His hand 
 encountered a book ; he drew it out with a shiver, and 
 gazed at it with terror and amazement. 
 
 It was the prayer-book he had picked up in the square 
 and locked up in that safe. Yet that very prayer-book 
 had been restored to Helen before his eyes, and was now 
 
POUIi PLAY. 507 
 
 locked np in her desk. He sat down with the book in 
 his hand, and a great dread came over him. 
 
 Hitherto Candor and Credulity only had been opposed 
 to him, but now Cunning had entered the field against 
 him ; a master hand was co-operating with Helen. 
 
 Yet, strange to say, she seemed unconscious of that 
 co-operation. Had Eobert Penfold found his way home 
 by some strange means ? Was he watching over her in 
 secret ? 
 
 He had the woman he loved watched night and day, 
 but no Erobert Penfold was detected. 
 
 He puzzled his brains night and day, and at last he 
 conceived a plan of deceit which is common enough in 
 the East, where lying is one of the fine arts, but was new 
 in this country, we believe, and we hope to Heaven we 
 shall not be the means of importing it. 
 
 An old clerk of his father's, now superannuated and 
 pensioned off, had a son upon the stage in a very mean 
 position. Once a year, however, and of course in the 
 dogdays, he had a kind of benefit at his suburban theatre ; 
 that is to say, the manager allowed him to sell tickfits, 
 and take half the price of them. He persuaded Arthur 
 to take some, and even to go to the theatre for an hour. 
 The man played a little part, of a pompous sneak, with 
 some approach to Nature. He seemed at home. 
 
 Arthur found this man out ; visited him at his own 
 place. He was very poor, and mingled pomposity with 
 obsequiousness, so that Arthur felt convinced he was to 
 be bought body and soul, what there was of him. 
 
 He sounded him accordingly, and the result was that 
 the man agreed to perform a part for him. 
 
 Arthur wrote it, and they rehearsed it together. As 
 to the dialogue, that was so constructed that it could be 
 varied considerably according to the cu.es, which could 
 be foreseen to a certain extent ; but not precisely, sinee 
 
508 FOtJL PLAY. 
 
 they were to be given by Helen KoUeston, who was not 
 in the secret. 
 
 But, whilst this plot was fermenting, other events hap- 
 pened, with rather a contrary tendency, and these will 
 be more intelligible if we go back to Nancy Rouse's cot- 
 tage, where indeed we have kept Joseph WyUe in an 
 uncomfortable position a very long time. 
 
 Mrs. James, from next door, was at last admitted into 
 Nancy's kitchen, and her first word was, " I suppose you 
 know what I'm come about, ma'am." 
 
 " Which it is to return me the sass-pan you borrowed, 
 no doubt," was Nancy's ingenious reply. 
 
 "No, ma'am. But I'll send my girl in with it, as 
 soon as she have cleaned it, you may depend." 
 
 " Thank ye, I shall be glad to see it again." 
 
 " You're not afeard I shall steal it, I hope ? " 
 
 "La, bless the woman, don't fly out at a body like 
 that. I can't afford to give away my sass-pan." 
 
 " Sass-pans is not in my head." 
 
 " Nor in your hand neither." 
 
 '• I'm come about my lodger ;_ a most respectable gentle- 
 man, which he have met with an accident. He did but 
 go to put something away in the chimbley, which he is a 
 curious gent, and has travelled a good deal, and learned 
 the foreign customs, when his hand was caught in the 
 brick-work, somehows, and there he is hard and fast." 
 
 "I know nothing about it, Mrs. James," said Nancy. 
 "Do you, girl?" 
 
 "No," said the mite, with a countenance of polished 
 granite. 
 
 "La, bless me!" said Nancy, with a sudden start. 
 "Why, is she talking about the thief as you and I 
 catched putting his hand through the waU into my room, 
 and made him fast again the policeman comes round ? " 
 
 " Thief ? " cried Mrs. James : " no more a thief than 
 
FOtJL PLAY. 509 
 
 I am. Why, sure you wouldn't ever be so cruel. Oh, 
 dear ! — oh, dear ! Spite goes a far length. There, take 
 an' kill me, do ; and then you'll be easy in your mind. 
 Ah, little my poor father thought as ever I should come 
 down to letting lodgers, and being maltreated this way. 
 lam — " 
 
 " Who is a maltreating of ye ? Why, you're dreaming. 
 Have a drop o' gin." 
 
 " With them as takes the police to my lodger ? It 
 would choke me." 
 
 " Well, have a drop, and we'll see about it." 
 
 "You're very kind, ma'am, I'm sure. Heaven knows 
 I need it. Here's wishing you a good husband; and 
 towards burying all unkindness." 
 
 " Which you means drownding of it." 
 
 "Ah, you're never at a loss for a word, ma'am, and 
 always in good spirits. But your troubles is to come. 
 Pm a widdy. You will let me see what is the matter 
 with my lodger, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Why not ? We'll all go and have a look at him." 
 
 Accordingly, the three women and the mite proceeded 
 to the little room ; Nancy turned the gas on, and they 
 inspected the imprisoned hand. Mrs. James screamed 
 with dismay, and Nancy asked her dryly whether she 
 was to blame for seizing a hand which had committed a 
 manifest trespass. 
 
 " You have got the rest of his body," said she, " but 
 this here hand belongs to me." 
 
 " Lord, ma'am, what could he take out of your chim- 
 bley, without 'twas a handful of soot ? Do pray let me 
 loose him." 
 
 " Not till I have said two words to him." 
 
 " But how cau you ? He isn't here to speak to ; only 
 a morsel of him." 
 
 " I can go into your house and speak to him." 
 
610 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 Mrs.' James demurred to tliat ; but Nancy Stood firm : 
 Mrs. James yielded. Nancy whispered her myrmidons, 
 and, in a few minutes, was standing by the prisoner, a 
 reverend person in dark spectacles, and a gray beard, that 
 created commiseration, or would have done so, but that 
 this stroke of ill-fortune had apparently fallen upon a 
 great philosopher. He had contrived to get a seat under 
 him, and was smoking a pipe with admirable sang-froid. 
 
 At sight of Nancy, however, he made a slight motion, 
 as if he would not object to follow his imprisoned hand 
 through the party-wall. It was only for a moment 
 though ; the next, he smoked imperturbably. 
 
 '• Well, sir," said Nancy, " I hopes you are comfort- 
 able." 
 
 " Thank ye, miss ; yes. ' I am at double sheet anchor." 
 
 " Why do you call me miss ? " 
 
 " I don't know. Because you are so young and pretty." 
 
 " That will do. I only wanted to hear the sound of 
 your voice, Joe Wylie." And with the word she 
 snatched his wig off with one hand, and his beard with 
 the other, and revealed his true features to his aston- 
 ished landlady. 
 
 "There, mum," said she, "I wish you joy of your 
 lodger." She tapped the chimney three times with the 
 poker, and telling Mr. Wylie she had a few words to say 
 to him in private, retired for the present. Mrs. James 
 sat down and mourned the wickedness of mankind, the 
 loss of her lodger (who would now go bodily next door 
 instead of sending his hand), and the better days she had 
 by iteration brought herself to believe she had seen. 
 
 Wylie soon entered Nancy's house, and her first ques- 
 tion was, " The two thousand pounds, how did you get 
 them ? " 
 
 "No matter how I got them," said Wylie, sulkily. 
 " What have you done with them ? " 
 
FOTTIi PI/AYv 511 
 
 "Put them away." 
 
 "That is aU rigtt. I'm blest if I didn't think they 
 were gone forever." 
 
 " I wish they had never come. Ill-gotten money is a 
 curse." Then she taxed him with scuttling the Proser- 
 pine, and asked him whether that money had not been 
 the bribe. But Joe was obdurate. " I never split on a 
 friend," said he. " And you have nobody to blame but 
 yourself; you wouldn't splice without two thousand 
 pounds. I loved you : and I got it how I could. D'ye 
 think a poor fellow like me can make two thousand 
 pounds in a voyage by hauling on ropes, and tying true 
 lovers' knots in the f oretop ? 
 
 Nancy had her answer ready : but this remembrance 
 pricked her own conscience and paved the way to a rec- 
 onciliation. 
 
 Nancy had no high-flown notions. She loved money, 
 but it must be got without palpable dishonesty; per 
 contra, she was not going to denounce her sweetheart, 
 but then again she would not marry him so long as he 
 differed with her about the meaning of the eighth com- 
 mandment. 
 
 This led to many arguments, some of them warm, 
 some affectionate, and so we leave Mr. "Wylie under the 
 slow but salutary influence of love and unpretending 
 probity. 
 
 He continued to lodge next door. Nancy would only 
 receive him as a visitor. " No," said she, " a little snap- 
 ping and snarling is good for the health: but I don't 
 care to take the bread out of a neighbor's mouth as 
 keeps saying she have seen better days." 
 
512 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE LXIV. 
 
 Helen had complained to Arthur, of all people, that 
 she was watched and followed; she even asked him 
 whether that was not the act of some enemy. Arthur 
 smiled, and said, " Take my word for it, it is only some 
 foolish admirer of your beauty ; he wants to know your 
 habits, in hopes of falling in with you ; you had better 
 let me go out with you for the next month or so ; that 
 sort of thing will soon die away." 
 
 As a necessary consequence of this injudicious revela- 
 tion, Helen was watched with greater skill and subtlety, 
 and upon a plan well calculated to disarm suspicion : a 
 spy watched the door, and by a signal unintelligible to 
 any but his confederate, whom Helen could not possibly 
 see, set the latter on her track. 
 
 They kept this game up unobserved for several days ; 
 but learned nothing, for Helen was at a standstill. 
 
 At last they got caught, and by a truly feminine stroke 
 of observation. 
 
 A showily dressed man peeped into a shop where 
 Helen was buying gloves. 
 
 With one glance of her woman's eye she recognized a 
 large breast-pin in the worst possible taste ; thence her 
 eye went up and recognized the features of her seedy 
 follower, though he was now dressed up to the nine. 
 
 She withdrew her eye directly, completed her pur- 
 chase, and went home, brooding defence and vengeance. 
 
 That evening she dined with a lady who had a large 
 acquaintance with lawyers, and it so happened that Mr. 
 ToUemache and Mr. Hennessy were both of the party. 
 
FOUIi PLAY. 613 
 
 No-w, wlien these gentlemen saw Helen in full costume, 
 a queen in form as well as face, coroneted with her 
 island pearls, environed with a halo of romance, and 
 courted by women as well as men, they looked up to her 
 with astonishment, and made up to her in a very differ- 
 ent style from that in which they had received her visit. 
 ToUemache she received coldly ; he had defended Eobert 
 Penfold feebly, and she hated him for it. Hennessy she 
 received graciously, and remembering Eobert's precept, 
 to be supple as a woman, bewitched him. He was good- 
 natured, able, and vain. By eleven o'clock she had 
 enlisted him in her service. When she had conquered 
 him, she said, slyly, " But I ought not to speak of these 
 things to you except through a solicitor." 
 
 " That is the general rule," said the learned counsel, 
 "but in this case no dark body must come between me 
 and the sun." 
 
 In short he entered into Penfold's case with such well- 
 feigned warmth, to please the beauteous girl, that at last 
 she took him by the horns and consulted. 
 
 " I am followed," said she. 
 
 " I have no doubt you are ; and on a large scale : if 
 there is room for another I should be glad to join the 
 train." 
 
 - "Ha! ha! I'll save you the trouble. I'll meet you 
 half way. But, to be serious, I am watched, spied, and 
 followed by some enemy to that good friend whose 
 sacred cause we have undertaken. Forgive me for say- 
 ing ' we.' " 
 
 " I am too proud of the companionship to let you off. 
 * "We ' is the word." 
 
 " Then advise me what to do. I want to retaliate. I 
 want to discover who is watching me, and why. Can 
 you advise me ? Will you ? " 
 
 The counsel reflected a moment, and Helen, who 
 33 
 
514 rOUL PLAY. 
 
 watched him, remarked the power that suddenly came 
 into his countenance and brow. 
 
 " You must watch the spies. I have influence in Scot- 
 land Yard, and will get it done for you. If you went 
 there yourself they would cross-examine you and decline 
 to interfere. I'll go myself for you, and put it in a cer- 
 tain light. An able detective will call on you : give him 
 ten guineas, and let him into your views in confidence : 
 then he will work the public machinery for you." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Hennessy, how can I thank you ? " 
 
 " By succeeding. I hate to fail : and now your cause 
 is mine." 
 
 Next day, a man with a hooked nose, a keen black eye, 
 and a solitary foible (mosaic), called on Helen Eolleston, 
 and told her he was to take her instructions. She told 
 him she was watched, and thought it was done to bafle 
 a mission she had undertaken : but, having got so far, 
 she blushed and hesitated. 
 
 " The more you tell me, miss, the more use I can be," 
 said Mr. Burt. 
 
 Thus encouraged, p-nd also remembering Mr. Hennessy's 
 advice, she gave Mi". Burt, as coldly as she could, an out- 
 line of Eobert Penfold's case, and of the exertions she 
 had made, and the small result. 
 
 Burt listened keenly, and took a note or two, and, when 
 she had done, he told her something in return. 
 
 "Miss Eolleston," said he, "I am the officer that 
 arrested Eobert Penfold. It cost me a grinder that he 
 knocked out." 
 
 " Oh, dear," said Helen, " how unfortunate ! Then I 
 fear I cannot reckon on your services." 
 
 "Why not, miss ? What, do you think I hold spite 
 against a poor fellow for defending himself ? Besides, 
 Mr. Penfold wrote me a very proper note. Certainly, for 
 a parson, the gent is a very quick hitter ; but he wrote 
 
FOTTL PLAY. 515 
 
 very square, — said he hoped I would allow for the sur- 
 prise and the agitation of an innocent man ; sent me two 
 guineas, too, and said he would make it twenty, but he 
 was poor as well as unfortunate. That letter has stuck 
 in my gizzard ever since ; can't see the color of felony 
 in it. Your felon is never in a fault ; and, if he wears 
 a good coat, he isn't given to show fight." 
 
 "It was very improper of him to strike you," said 
 Helen, "and very noble of you to forgive it. Make 
 him still more ashamed of it: lay him under a deep 
 obligation." 
 
 "If he is innocent, I'll try and prove it," said the 
 detective. He then asked her if she had taken notes. 
 She said she had a diary. He begged to see it. She 
 felt inclined to withhold it, because of the comments; 
 but, remembering that this was womanish, and that 
 Robert's orders to her were to be manly on such oecar 
 sions, she produced her diary. Mr. Burt read it very 
 carefully, and told her it was a very promising case. 
 " You have done a great deal more than you thought," 
 he said. " You have netted the fish." 
 
616 FOUL PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTEE LXV. 
 
 " I NETTED tlie fish ! Wliat fish ? " 
 
 " The man who forged the promissory note." 
 
 « Mr. Burt ! " 
 
 " The same man that forged the newspaper extracts to 
 deceive you, forged the promissory note years ago ; and 
 the man who is setting spies on you is the man who 
 forged those extracts ; so we are sure to nail him. He 
 is in the net, and very much to your credit. Leave the 
 rest to me. I'll tell you more about it to-morrow. You 
 must order your carriage at one o'clock to-morrow, and 
 drive down to Scotland Yard. Go into the Yard, and 
 you will see me. Follow me without a word. When 
 you go back, the other spies will be so frightened, they 
 will go off to their employer, and so we shall nail him." 
 
 Helen complied with these instructions strictly, and 
 then returned home, leaving Mr. Burt to work. She had 
 been home about half an hour, when the servant brought 
 her up a message, saying that a man wanted to speak to 
 her. 
 
 "Admit him," said Helen. 
 
 " He is dressed very poor, miss." 
 
 "Never mind ; send him to me." 
 
 She was afraid to reject anybody now, lest she might 
 turn her back on information. 
 
 A man presented himself in well-worn clothes, with a 
 wash-leather face and close-shaven chin. A little of his 
 forehead was also shaven. 
 
 " Madam, my name is Hand." 
 
 Helen started. 
 
FO0I« PLAY. 617 
 
 "I have already had the honor of writing to you." 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Helen, eying him with fear and 
 aversion. 
 
 "Madam, I am come" — (he hesitated). "I am an 
 unfortunate man. Weighed down by remorse for a 
 thoughtless act that has ruined an innocent man, and 
 nearly cost my worthy employer his life, I come to 
 expiate as far as in me lies. But let me be brief, and 
 hurry over a tale of shame. I was a clerk at Wardlaw's 
 office. -A. bill-broker, called Adams, was talking to me 
 and my feUow-clerks, and boasting that nobody could 
 take him in with a feigned signature. Bets were laid. 
 Our vanity was irritated by his pretension. It was my 
 fortune to overhear my young master and his friend 
 Eobert Penfold speak about a loan of two thousand 
 pounds. In an evil hour I listened to the tempter, and 
 wrote a forged note for that amount. I took it to Mr. 
 Penfold ; he presented it to Adams, and it was cashed. 
 I intended, of course, to call next day, and tell Mr. 
 Penfold, and take him to Adams, and restore the money, 
 and get back the note. It was not due for three months. 
 Alas ! that very day it fell under suspicion. Mr. Pen- 
 fold was arrested. My young master was struck down 
 with illness at his friend's guilt, though he never could 
 be quite got to believe it ; and I, miserable coward, dared 
 not tell the truth. Ever since that day I have been a 
 miserable man. The other day I came into money, and 
 left Wardlaw's service. But I carry my remorse with 
 me. Madam, I am come to tell the truth. I dare not 
 tell it to Mr. Wardlaw : I think he would kill me. But 
 I will tell it to you, and you can tell it to him ; ay, tell 
 it to all the world. Let my shame be as public as his 
 whom I have injured so deeply; but, Heaven knows, 
 unintentionally. I — I — I — " 
 
 Mr. Hand sank all in a heap, where he sat, and could 
 say no more. 
 
518 POTTL PLAY. 
 
 Helen's flesh crawled at tMs confession, and at tlie 
 sight of this reptile, who owned that he had destroyed 
 Robert Penfold in fear and cowardice. For a long time 
 her wrath so overpowered all sense of pity, that she sat 
 trembling ; and, if eyes could kill, Mr. Hand would not 
 have outlived his confession. 
 
 At last she contrived to speak. She turned her head 
 away not to see the wretch, and said, sternly, — 
 
 "Are you prepared to make this statement on paper, 
 if called on?" 
 
 Mr. Hand hesitated, but said, " Yes." 
 
 " Then write down that Robert Penfold was innocent, 
 and you are ready to prove it whenever you are called 
 upon." 
 
 « Write that down ? " said Hand. 
 
 " Unless your penitence is feigned, you will." 
 
 " Sooner than that should be added to my crime, I will 
 avow all." 
 
 He then wrote the few lines she required. 
 
 "Now your address, that I may know where to find 
 you at a moment's notice." 
 
 He then wrote, " J. Hand, 11 Warwick Street, Pimlieo." 
 
 Helen then dismissed him, and wept bitterly. In that 
 condition she was found by Arthur Wardlaw, who com- 
 forted her, and, on hearing her report of Hand's confes- 
 sion, burst out into triumph, and reminded her he had 
 always said Robert Penfold was innocent. "My father," 
 said he, " must yield to this evidence, and we will lay it 
 before the Secretary of State, and get his pardon." 
 
 " His pardon ! when he is innocent ! " 
 
 " Oh, that is the form ; the only fdrm ! The rest must 
 be done by the warm reception of his friends. I, for 
 one, who all these years have maintained his innocence, 
 will be the first to welcome him to my house, an honored 
 guest. What am I saying ? Can I ? dare I ? ought I ? 
 
FOtJIi PLAY. 519 
 
 when my wife — Ah ! I am more to be pitied than my 
 poor friend is : my friend, my rival. Well, I leave it to 
 you whether he can come into your husband's house." 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 "But, at least I can send the Springbok out, and bring 
 him home ; and that I will do without one day's delay." 
 
 *• Arthur ! " cried Helen, "you set me an example of 
 unselfishness.' ' 
 
 " I do what I can," said Arthur. " I am no saint. I 
 hope for a reward." 
 
 Helen sighed. •' What shall I do ? " 
 
 '• Have pity on me ! your faithful lover, and to whom 
 your &ith was plighted before ever you saw or knew my 
 unhsq)py friend. What can I do or suffer more than I 
 have done and suffered for you ? My sweet Helen, have 
 pity on me, and be my wife." 
 
 " I will, some day." 
 
 "Bless you! bless you! One effort more : what day?" 
 
 " I can't ! I can't ! My heart is dead." 
 
 " This day fortnight. Let me speak to your father ; 
 let T^im name the day." 
 
 As she made no reply, he kissed her hand devotedly, 
 and did speak to her father. 
 
 Sir Edward, meaning all for the best, said, " This day 
 fortnight." 
 
520 FOTTIi PLAY. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 The next morning came the first wedding presents 
 from the jubilant bridegroom, who was determined to 
 advance step by step, and give no breathing time. 
 
 When Helen saw them laid out by her maid she trem- 
 bled at the consequences of not giving a plump negative 
 to so brisk a wooer. 
 
 The second post brought two letters: one of them 
 from Mrs. Undercliff ; the other contained no words, but 
 only a pearl of uncommon size and pear-shaped. 
 
 Helen received this at first as another wedding present, 
 and an attempt on Arthur's part to give her a pearl as 
 large as those she had gathered on her dear island. But 
 looking narrowly at the address, she saw it was not 
 written by Arthur; and, presently, she was struck by 
 the likeness of this pearl, in shape, to some of her own. 
 She got out her pearls, laid them side by side, and began 
 to be moved exceedingly. She had one of her instincts, 
 and it set every fibre quivering with excitement. It was 
 some time before she could take her eyes off the pearls, 
 and it was with a trembling hand she opened Mrs. 
 Undercliff's letter, 
 
 Mt dear Young Lady, — A person called here last night 
 and supplied the clew. If you have tlie courage to know the 
 truth, you have only to come here, and to bring your diary, 
 and all the lettei's you have received from any person or per- 
 sons since you landed in England. 
 
 I am, yours obediently, 
 
 Jane Undebcliff. 
 
FOTJL PLAY. 521 
 
 The courage to know tlie truth ! 
 
 This mysterious sentence affected Helen considerably. 
 But her faith in Robert was too great to be shaken. She 
 would not wait for the canonical hour at which yovmg 
 ladies go out, but put on her bonnet directly after 
 breakfast. 
 
 Early as she was, a visitor came before she could start, 
 — Mr. Burt, the detective. She received him in the 
 library. 
 
 Mr. Burt looked at her dress and her little bag, and 
 said, " I'm very glad I made bold to caJl so early," 
 
 " You have got information of importance to commu- 
 nicate to me ? " 
 
 "I think so, miss;" and he took out his notebook. 
 " The person you are watched by is Mr. Arthur Wardlaw." 
 
 The girl stared at him. 
 
 " Both spies report to him twice a day at his house in 
 Eussell Square." 
 
 " Be careful, Mr. Burt ; this is a serious thing to say, 
 and may have serious consequences." 
 
 "Well, miss, you told me you wanted to know the 
 truth." 
 
 " Of course I want to know the truth." 
 
 " Then the truth is that you are watched by order of 
 Mr. Wardlaw." 
 
 Burt continued his report. 
 
 " A shabby-like man called on you yesterday." 
 
 " Yes ; it was Mr. Hand, Mr. Wardlaw's clerk. And 
 oh, Mr. Burt, that wretched creature came and confessed 
 the truth. It was he who forged the note, out of sport, 
 and for a bet, and then was too cowardly to own it." 
 
 She then detailed Hand's confession. 
 
 " His penitence comes too late," said she, with a deep 
 sigh. 
 
 "It hasn't come yet," said Burt, dryly. "Of course 
 
522 FOTJL PLAY. 
 
 my lambs followed the man. He went first to his 
 employer, and tlien he went home. His name is not 
 Hand. He is not a clerk at all, but a little actor at the 
 Corinthian Saloon. Hand is in America; went three 
 months ago. I ascertained that from another quarter." 
 
 "Oh, goodness!" cried Helen; "what a wretched 
 world. I can't see my way a yard for stories." 
 
 " How should you, miss ? It is clear enough, for all 
 that. Mr. Wardlaw hired this actor to pass for Hand, 
 and tell you a lie that he thought would please you." 
 
 Helen put her hand to her brow, and thought ; but her 
 candid soul got sadly in the way of her brain. 
 
 "Mr. Burt," said she, "will you go with me to Mr. 
 Undercliff, the expert ? " 
 
 "With pleasure, ma'am ; but let me finish my report. 
 Last night there was something new. Your house was 
 watched by six persons. Two were Wardlaw's, three 
 were Burt's; but the sixth man was there on his own 
 hook, and my men could not make him out at all ; but 
 they think one of Wardlaw's men knew him; for he 
 went off to Eussell Square like the wind, and brought 
 Mr. Wardlaw here in disguise. Kow, miss, that is all ; 
 and shall I call a cab, and we'll hear UnderclifE's tale ? " 
 
 The cab was called, and they went to Undercliff. On 
 the way Helen brooded; but the detective eyed every 
 man and everything on the road with the utmost 
 keenness. 
 
 Edward Undercliff was at work at lithographing. He 
 received Helen cordially, nodded to Burt, and said she 
 could not have a better assistant. 
 
 He then laid his fac-simile of the forged note on the 
 table with John Wardlaw's genuine writing and Pen- 
 fold's indorsement. 
 
 "Look at that, Mr. Burt." 
 
 Burt inspected the papers keenly. 
 
FOUL PLAT. 523 
 
 "You know, Burt, I swore at Eobert Penf old's trial 
 that he never wrote that forged note." 
 
 " I remember," said Burt. 
 
 " The other day, this lady intrusted me to discover, if 
 I could, who did write the forged note. But, unfortu- 
 nately, the materials she gave me were not sufficient. 
 But, last night, a young man dropped from the clouds, 
 that I made sure was an agent of yours. Miss Eolleston. 
 Under that impression I was rather xmguarded, and I let 
 him know how far we had got, and could get no farther. 
 ' I think I can help you,' says this young man, and puts 
 a letter on the table. Well, Mr. Burt, a glance at that 
 letter was enough for me. It was written by the man 
 who forged the note." 
 
 "A letter ! " said Helen. 
 
 "Yes. I'll put the letter by the side of the forged 
 note ; and, if you have any eye for writing at all, you'll 
 see at once that one hand wrote the forged note and this 
 letter. I am also prepared to swear that the letters 
 signed Hand are forgeries by the same person." 
 
 He then coolly put upon the table the letter from 
 Arthur Wardlaw that Helen had received on board the 
 Proserpine, and was proceeding to point out the many 
 points of resemblance between the letter and the docu- 
 ment, whoa he was interrupted by a scream from Helen. 
 
 "Ah!" she cried. "He is here. Only one man in 
 the world could have brought that letter. I left it on 
 the island. Kobert is here ; he gave you that letter." 
 
 "You are right," said the expert, "and what a fool I 
 must be. I have no eye except for handwriting. He 
 had a beard, and such a beard ! " 
 
 "It is Eobert!" cried Helen, in raptures. "He is 
 come just in time." 
 
 "In time to be arrested," said Burt. "Why, his time 
 is not out. He'll get into a trouble again." 
 
524 rotix, PLAY. 
 
 "Oh, Heaven forbid!" cried Helen, and turned so 
 faint, she had to be laid back on a chair, and salts 
 applied to her nostrils. 
 
 She soon came to, and cried and trembled, but pre- 
 pared to defend her Robert with all a woman's wit. 
 
 Burt and Undercliff were conversing in a low voice, 
 and Burt was saying he felt sure Wardlaw's spies had 
 detected Eobert Penfold, and that Robert would be 
 arrested and put into prison as a runaway convict. 
 
 "Go to Scotland Yard this minute, Mr. Burt," said 
 Helen, eagerly. 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "Why, you must take the commission to arrest him. 
 You are our friend." 
 
 Burt slapped his thigh with delight. 
 
 " That is first-rate, miss," said he ; " I'll take the real 
 felon first, you may depend. Now, Mr. Undercliff, 
 write your report, and hand it to Miss Helen, with fac- 
 similes. It will do no harm if you make a declaration 
 to the same effect before a magistrate. You, Miss 
 EoUeston, keep yourself disengaged, and please don't 
 go out. You will very likely hear from me again 
 to-day." 
 
 He drove off, and Helen, though still greatly agitated 
 by Robert's danger, and the sense of his presence, now 
 sat down, trembling a little, and compared Arthur's 
 letter with the forged document. The effect of this 
 comparison was irresistible. The expert, however, asked 
 her for some letter of Arthur's that had never passed 
 through Robert Penfold's hands. She gave him the 
 short note in which he used the very words, Eobert 
 Penfold. He said he would make that note the basis of 
 his report. 
 
 While he was writing it, Mrs. Undercliff came in, and 
 Helen told her all. She said, " I came to the same con- 
 
THEY GAZED AGAIN WITH LOVE UNUTTERABLE. 
 
FOITL PLAT. 625 
 
 elusion long ago; but when you said he was to be your 
 husband — " 
 
 "Ah," said Helen, " we women are poor creatures ; we 
 can always find some reason for running away from the 
 truth. Now explain about the prayer-book." 
 
 " Well, miss, I felt sure he would steal it, so I made 
 Ned produce a f ac-simile. And he did steal it. What 
 you got back was your mother's prayer-book. Of course 
 I took care of that." 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Undercliff," cried Helen, " do let me kiss 
 you." 
 
 Then they had a nice little cry together, and, by the 
 time they had done, the report was ready in duplicate. 
 
 " I'll declare this before a magistrate," said the expert, 
 " and then I'll send it to you." 
 
 At four o'clock of this eventful day, Helen got a 
 message from Burt to say that he had orders to arrest 
 Eobert Penfold, and that she must wear a mask and ask 
 Mr. Wardlaw to meet her at old Mr. Penfold's at nine 
 o'clock. But she herself must be there at half-past 
 eight, without fail, and bring Undercliff's declaration 
 and report with her, and the prayer-book, etc. 
 
 Accordingly, Helen went down to old Mr. Penfold's at 
 half-past eight, and was received by Nancy Eouse, and 
 ushered into Mr. Penfold's room ; that is to say, Nancy 
 held the door open, and, on her entering the room, shut 
 it sharply and ran downstairs. 
 
 Helen entered the room ; a man rose directly and came 
 to her; but it was not Michael Penfold — it was Eobert. 
 A faint scream, a heavenly sigh, and her head was on 
 his shoulder, and her arm round his neck, and both their 
 hearts panting as they gazed, and then clung to each 
 other, and then gazed again with love unutterable. After 
 a while they got sufficient composure to sit down hand 
 in hand and compare notes. And Helen showed him 
 
526 FOUX PLAT. 
 
 their weapons of defence, the prayer-book, the expert's 
 report, etc. 
 
 A discreet tap was heard at the door. It was Nancy 
 Eouse. On being invited to enter, she came in, and said, 
 "Oh, Miss Helen, IVe got a penitent outside, which he 
 done it for love of me, and now he'll make a clean breast, 
 and the fault was partly mine. Come in, Joe, and speak 
 for yourself." 
 
 On this, Joe Wylie came in, hanging his head pite- 
 ously. 
 
 " She is right, sir," said he ; " I'm come to ask your 
 pardon and the lady's. Not as I ever meant you any 
 harm ; but to destroy the ship, it was a bad act, and I've 
 never throve since. Nance, she have got the money. 
 I'll give it back to the underwriters ; and, if you and 
 the lady will forgive a poor fellow that was tempted 
 with love and money, why, I'll stand to the truth for 
 you, though it's a bitter pill." 
 
 "I forgive you," said Eobert; "and I accept your 
 offer to serve me." 
 
 "And so do I," said Helen. "Indeed, it is not us you 
 have wronged. But, oh, I am glad, for Nancy's sake, 
 that you repent." 
 
 " Miss, I'll go through fire and water for you," said 
 Wylie, lifting up his head. 
 
 Here old Michael came in to say that Arthur Wardlaw 
 was at the door, with a policeman. 
 
 " Show him in," said Eobert. 
 
 "Oh no, Eobert!" said Helen. "He fills me with 
 horror." 
 
 " Show him in," said Eobert, gently. « Sit down, all 
 of you." 
 
 Now Burt had not told Arthur who was in the house, 
 so he came, rather uneasy in his mind, but still expecting 
 only to see Helen. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 527 
 
 Robert Penfold told Helen to face the door, and the 
 rest to sit back ; and this arrangement had not been 
 effected one second, when Arthur came in, with a lover's 
 look, and, taking two steps into the room, saw the three 
 men waiting to receive him. At sight of Penfold, he 
 started, and turned pale as ashes ; but, recovering him- 
 seK, said, — 
 
 "My dearest Helen, this is indeed an unexpected 
 pleasure. You will reconcile me to one, whose worth 
 and innocence I never doubted, and tell him I have had 
 some little hand in clearing him." 
 
 His effrontery was received in dead silence. This 
 struck cold to his bones, and, being naturally weak, he 
 got violent. He said, — 
 
 " Allow me to send a message to my servant." 
 
 He then tore a leaf out of his memorandum-book, 
 wrote on it : — " Eobert Penfold is here ; arrest him 
 directly, and take him away." And, enclosing this in 
 an envelope, sent it out to Burt by Nancy. 
 
 Helen seated herself quietly, and said, — 
 
 " Mr. Wardlaw, when did Mr. Hand go to America ? " 
 
 Arthur stammered out, " I don't know the exact date." 
 
 " Two or three months ago ? " 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 " Then the person you sent me to tell me that false- 
 hood was not Mr. Hand ? " 
 
 " I sent nobody." 
 
 "Oh, for shame! for shame! Why have you set 
 spies? Why did you make away with my prayer- 
 book; or what you thought was my prayer-book ? Here 
 is my prayer-book, that proves you had the Proserpine 
 destroyed; and I should have lost my life but for 
 another, whom you bad done your best to destroy. 
 Look Eobert Penfold in the face if you can." 
 
 Arthur's eyes began tP waver. 
 
528 FOUL PliAY. 
 
 " I can," said he. " I never wronged him. I always 
 lamented Ms misfortune." 
 
 " You were not the cause ? " 
 
 " Never ! — so help me Heaven ! " 
 
 " Monster ! " said Helen, turning away in contempt 
 and horror." 
 
 "Oh, that is it, is it?" said Arthur, wildly. "You 
 break faith with me for him ? You insult me for him ? 
 I must bear anything from you, for I love you ; but, at 
 least, I will sweep him, out of the path." 
 
 He ran to the door, opened ii^ and there was Burt, 
 listening. 
 
 " Are you an ofiBcer ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then arrest that man this moment: he is Eobert 
 Penfold, a convict returned before his time." 
 
 Burt came into the room, locked the door, and put the 
 key in his pocket. 
 
 "Well, sir," said Burt to Kobert, "I know you are a 
 quick hitter. Don't let us have a row over it this time. 
 If you have got anything to say, say it quiet and com- 
 fortable." 
 
 "I will go with you on one condition," said Eobert. 
 " You must take the felon as well as the martyr. This 
 is the felon ; " and he laid his hand on Arthur's shoulder, 
 who cowered under the touch at first, but soon began to 
 act violent indignation. 
 
 "Take the ruffian away at once," he cried. 
 
 " What ! before I hear what he has got to say ? " 
 
 " Would you listen to him against a merchant of the 
 City of London, a man of unblemished reputation ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, you see we have got a hint that you were 
 concerned in scuttling a ship : and that is a felony. So 
 I think I'll just hear what he has got to say. You need 
 not /ear any man's tongue if you are innocent," 
 
FOtJIi PLAY. 529 
 
 "Sit dowii, if you please, and examine these docu- 
 ments," said Eobert Penfold. " As to the scuttling of 
 the ship, here is the deposition of two seamen, taken on 
 their death-bed, and witnessed by Miss EoUeston and 
 myself." 
 
 " And that book he tried to steal," said Helen, 
 
 Eobert continued, "And here is Undercliff's fac- 
 simile of the forged note. Here are specimens of Arthur 
 Wardlaw's handwriting, and here is UnderclifE's report." 
 
 The detective ran his eye hastily over the report, 
 which we slightly condense. 
 
 On comparing the forged note with genuine specimens 
 of John Wardlaw's handwriting, no less than twelve, 
 deviations from his habits of writing strike the eye : and 
 every one of these twelve deviations is a deviation into 
 a habit of Arthur Wardlaw, which is an amount of 
 demonstration rarely attained in cases of forgery. 
 
 1. The capital L. — Compare in London (forged note) 
 with the same letter in London in Wardlaw's letter. 
 
 2. The capital D. — Compare this letter in Date with 
 the same letter in Dearest. 
 
 3. The capital T. — Compare it in Two and Tollemache. 
 
 4. The word To ; see To pay, in forged note and third 
 line of letter. 
 
 5. Small formed with a loop in the up-stroke. 
 
 6. The manner of finishing the letter v. 
 
 7. Ditto the letter w. 
 
 8. The imperfect formation of the small a. This and 
 the looped o run through the forged note and Arthur 
 Wardlaw's letter, and are habits entirely foreign to the 
 style of John Wardlaw. 
 
 9. See the th in connection. 
 
 10. Ditto the of in connection. 
 
 11. The incautious use of the Greek e. John Wardlaw 
 34 
 
FOtTL PLAY. 
 
 631 
 
 never uses this f . Arthur Wardlaw never uses any other 
 apparently. The writer of the forged note began right, 
 
 
 
 but at the •word Robert Penfold glided insensibly into 
 his Greek e, and maintained it to the end of the forgery. 
 
532 FOTXL PLAY. 
 
 This looks as if lie was in the habit of writing those two 
 words. 
 
 12. Compare the words Kobert Penfold in the forged 
 document with the same words in the letter. The simi- 
 larity is so striking, that, on these two words alone, the 
 writer could be identified beyond a doubt. 
 
 13. Great pains were taken with the signature, and it 
 is like John Wardlaw's writing on the surface ; but go 
 below the surface and it is all Arthur Wardlaw. 
 
 The looped o, the small r, the I dropping below the d, 
 the open a, are all Arthur Wardlaw's. The open loop of 
 the final w is a stiU bolder deviation into A. W.'s own 
 hand. 
 
 The final flourish is a curious mistake. It is executed 
 with skill and freedom ; but the writer has made the 
 lower line the thick one. Yet John Wardlaw never does 
 this. 
 
 How was the deviation caused? Examine the final 
 flourish in Arthur Wardlaw's signature. It contains one 
 stroke only; but then that stroke is a thick one. He 
 thought he had only to prolong his own stroke and bring 
 it round. He did this extremely well, but missed the 
 deeper characteristic, the thick upper stroke. This is 
 proof of a high character ; and altogether I am quite pre- 
 pared to testify upon oath that the writer of the letter 
 to Miss Rolleston, who signs himself Arthur Wardlaw is 
 the person who forged the promissory note. 
 
 To enable the reader to follow all this we reproduce 
 the materials of Mr. Undercliff'S judgment. To these 
 twelve proofs one more was now added. 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw rose, and with his knees knocking 
 together, said, " Don't arrest him, Burt ; let him go." 
 
 "Don't let him go," cried old Penfold. "A villain! 
 i have got the number of the notes from Benson. I can 
 
FOUIi PLA.T. 533 
 
 prove he bribed this poor man to destroy the ship. Don't 
 let him go. He has ruined my poor boy." 
 
 At this Arthur Wardlaw began to shriek for mercy. 
 
 " O Mr. Penfold," said he, "you are a father, and hate 
 me. But think of my father. I'll say anything, do any- 
 thing. I'U clear Robert Penfold at my own expense. I 
 have lost her. She loathes me now. Have mercy on 
 me, and let me leave the country." 
 
 He cringed and crawled so that he disarmed anger, 
 and substituted contempt. 
 
 " Ay," said Burt. "He don't hit like you, Mr. Penfold ; 
 this is a chap that ought to have been in Newgate long 
 ago. But take my advice ; make him clear you on paper 
 and then let him go. PU go down-stairs awhile. I 
 mustn't take part in compounding a felony." 
 
 "Oh, yes, Eobert," said Helen; "for his father's 
 sake." 
 
 "Very well," said Eobert. "Now then, reptile, take 
 the pen and write in your own hand, if you can." 
 
 He took the pen and wrote to dictation, — 
 
 "I, Arthur Wardlaw, confess that I forged the promis- 
 sory note for two thousand pounds, and sent it to Robert 
 Penfold, and that fourteen hundred pounds of it was to 
 be for my own use, and to pay my Oxford debts. And I 
 confess that I bribed Wylie to scuttle the ship Proserpine 
 in order to cheat the underwriters." 
 
 Penfold then turned to Wylie and asked him the true 
 motive of this fraud. 
 
 " Why, the gold was aboard the Shannon," said Wylie ; 
 "I played hanky-panky with the metals in White's 
 store." 
 
 " Put that down," said Penfold. "Now go on." 
 
 " Make a clean breast," said Wylie. " I have. Say as 
 how you cooked the Proserpine's log, and forged Hiram 
 Hudson's writing." 
 
534 FOUL PLAT. 
 
 "And the newspaper extracts you sent me," said Helen, 
 " and the letters from Mr. Hand." 
 
 Arthur groaned. " Must I tell all that ? " said he. 
 
 "Every word, or be indicted," said Eobert Penfold 
 sternly. 
 
 He wrote it all down, and then sat staring stupidly. 
 
 And the next thing was, he gave a loud shriek and fell 
 on the floor in a fit. 
 
 They sprinkled water over him, and Burt conveyed him 
 home in a cab, advising him to leave the country, at the 
 same time promising him not to exasperate those he had 
 wronged so deeply, but rather to moderate them, if re- 
 quired. Then he gave Burt fifty guineas. 
 
 Robert Penfold, at Helen's request, went with her to 
 Mr. Hennessy, and with the proofs of Arthur's guilt and 
 Robert's innocence; and he undertook that the matter 
 should go in proper form before the Secretary of State. 
 But, somehow, it transpired that the Proserpine had been 
 scuttled, and several of the underwriters wrote to the 
 Wardlaws to threaten proceedings. Wardlaw senior re- 
 turned but one answer to these gentlemen: "Bring your 
 proofs to me at my place of business next Monday at 
 twelve, and let me judge the case, before you go else- 
 where." 
 
 " That is high and mighty," said one or two ; but they 
 conferred and agreed to these terms, so high stood the 
 old merchant's name. 
 
 They came ; they were • received with stiff courtesy. 
 The deposition of Cooper and Welch was produced, and 
 Wylie, kept up to the mark by Nancy, told the truth, 
 and laid his two thousand pounds intact down on the 
 table. 
 
 "Now that is off my stomach," said he, "and I'm a 
 man again." 
 
 " Ay, and I'll marry yoii next week," said Nancy. 
 
FOUL PLAY. 535 
 
 "Well, gentlemen," said old Wardlaw, "my course 
 seems very clear. I will undo the wliole transaction, 
 and return you your money less the premiums, but plus 
 five per cent interest." 
 
 And this he did on the spot, for the firm was richer 
 than ever. 
 
 When they were gone, Eobert Penfold came in, and 
 said, — 
 
 "I hear, sir, you devote this day to repairing the 
 wrongs done by your firm. What can you do for me ? " 
 
 He laid a copy of Arthur's confession before him. 
 
 The old man winced a moment where he sat, and the 
 iron passed through his soul. 
 
 It was a long time before he could speak. At last he 
 said, — 
 
 " This wrong is irreparable, I fear." 
 
 Eobert said nothing. Sore as his own heart was, he 
 was not the one to strike a grand old man, struggling so 
 bravely against dishonor. 
 
 Wardlaw senior touched his hand-belL 
 
 " Bequest Mr. Penfold to step this way." 
 
 Michael Penfold came. 
 
 " Grentlemen," said the old merchant, "the house of 
 Wardlaw exists no more. It was built on honesty, and 
 cannot survive a fraud. Wardlaw and Son were partners 
 at will. I had decided to dissolve that partnership, wind 
 up the accounts, and put up the shutters. But now, if 
 you like, I will value the effects, and hand the business 
 over to Penfold and Son, on easy terms. Eobert Penfold 
 has been accused of forging John Wardlaw's name ; to 
 prove this was a calumny, I put Penfold over my door 
 instead of Wardlaw. The City of London will ujider- 
 stand that, gentlemen, believe me." 
 
 "Mr. Wardlaw," said Eobert, "you are a just, a 
 noble — " 
 
536 POTJL PIAY. 
 
 He could say no more. 
 
 "Ah, sir," said Michael, "if the young gentleman had 
 only been like you." 
 
 "Mention his name no more to me. His crime and 
 his punishment have killed me." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Eobert hastily, " he shall not be punished 
 for your sake." 
 
 " Not be punished ? It is not in your hands to decide. 
 God has punished him. He is insane." 
 
 " Good heavens ! " 
 
 " Quite mad ; quite mad. Gentlemen, I can no longer 
 support this interview. Send me your solicitor's address ; 
 the deeds shall be prepared. I wish the new firm 
 success. Probity is the road to it. Good-day." 
 
 He wound up the affairs, had his name and Arthur's 
 painted out at his own expense, and directed the paint- 
 ers to paint the Penf olds' in at theirs ; went home to 
 Elmtrees, and died in three days. He died lamented 
 and honored, and Eobert Penfold was much affected. 
 He got it into his head that he had killed him with 
 Arthur's confession, putting it before him so suddenly. 
 
 " I have forgotten who said ' Vengeance is mine,' " 
 said Eobert Penfold. 
 
 The merchant priest left the office to be conducted by 
 his father; he used the credit of the new firm to pur- 
 chase a living in the Vale of Kent, and thither he 
 retired; grateful to Providence, but not easy in his 
 conscience. He now accused himself of having often 
 distrusted God, and seen his fellow-creatures in too dark a 
 light. He turned towards religion and the care of souls. 
 
 Past suffering enlightens a man, and makes him ten- 
 der : and people soon began to walk and drive consider- 
 able distances to hear the new vicar. He had a lake 
 with a new peninsula, the shape of which he altered, at 
 a great expense, as soon as he came there. 
 
FOITIi PLAT. 637 
 
 He wrote to Helen every day, and she to liim. Neither 
 could do anything con amove till the post came in. 
 
 One afternoon, as he was preaching with great unction, 
 he saw a long puritanical face looking up at him with 
 a droll expression of amazement and half irony. The 
 stranger called on him, and began at once. 
 
 " Wal, parson, you are a buster, you air. You ginn it 
 us hot, you did. I'm darned if I ain't kinder ashamed 
 to talk of this world's goods to a saint upon airth like 
 you. But I never knowed a parson yet as couldn't 
 collar the dollars." 
 
 After this preamble he announced that he had got a 
 lease of the island from Chili, dug a lot of silver plate 
 out of the galleon, sold ten tons of choice coral, and 
 a ship-load of cassia and cocoarnuts. He had then dis- 
 posed of his lease to a Californian company for a large 
 sum. And his partner's share of net profits came to 
 £17,247 13s. 3^., which sum he had paid to Michael 
 for Robert Penfold, in drafts on Baring, at thirty days 
 after sight. 
 
 Kobert shook his hand, and thanked him sincerely for 
 his ability and probity. He stayed that night at the 
 vicarage, and by that means fell in with another acquaint- 
 ance. General Rolleston and his daughter drove down 
 to see the parsonage. Helen wanted to surprise Robert; 
 and, as often happens, she surprised herself. She made 
 hiin show her everything; and so he took her on to 
 his peninsula. Lo ! the edges of it had been cut and 
 altered, so that it presented a miniature copy of Godsend 
 Island. 
 
 As soon as she saw this, Helen turned round with a 
 sudden cry of love, — 
 
 " Oh, Robert ! " and the lovers were in each other's 
 arms. 
 
 "What could any other man ever be to me ? " 
 
538 FOtTL PLAY. 
 
 "And what could any other woman ever be to 
 me?" 
 
 They knew that before. But this miniature island 
 made them speak out and say it. The wedding day was 
 fixed before she left. 
 
 Her Majesty pardoned this scholar, hero, and worthy, 
 the crime he had never committed. 
 
 Nancy Eouse took the penitent Wylie without the two 
 thousand pounds. But old Penfold, who knew the whole 
 story, lent the money at three per cent ; so the Wylies 
 pay a ground rent of sixty pounds a year for a property 
 which, by Mrs. Wylie's industry and judgment, is worth 
 at least four hundred pounds. She pays this very cheer- 
 fully, and appeals to Joe whether that is not better than 
 the other way. 
 
 "Why, Joe," says she, "to a woman like me, that's 
 a-foot all day, 'tis worth sixty pounds a year to be a good 
 sleeper ; and I shouldn't be that if I had wronged my 
 neighbor." 
 
 Arthur Wardlaw is in a private lunatic asylum, and is 
 taken great care of. In his lucid intervals, he suffers 
 horrible distress of mind ; but, though sad to see, these 
 agonies furnish the one hope of his ultimate recovery. 
 When not troubled by these returns of reason, he is 
 contented enough. His favorite employment is to get 
 Mr. Under cliff's fac-similes, and to write love-letters to 
 Helen EoUeston, which are duly deposited in the post- 
 office of the estahlishment. These letters are in the 
 handwriting of Charles I., Paoli, Lord Bacon, Alexander 
 Pope, Lord Chesterfield, Nelson, Lord Shaftesbury, Addi- 
 son, the late Duke of Wellington, and so on ; and, strange 
 to say, the Greek e never appears in any of them. They 
 are admirably like, though of course the matter is not 
 always equally consistent with the characters of those 
 personages. 
 
FOTTL PLAY. 639 
 
 Helen Rolleston married Eobert Penfold. On the 
 wedding day, the presents were laid out, and, amongst 
 them, there "was a silver box encrusted with eoraL 
 
 Female curiosity demanded that this box should be 
 opened. Helen objected ; but her bridesmaids rebelled ; 
 the whole company sided with them, and Eobert smiled 
 a careless assent. 
 
 A blacksmith and carpenter were both enlisted, and 
 with infinite difficulty the poor box was riven open. 
 
 Inside was another box, locked, but with no key. 
 That was opened with comparative ease, and then handed 
 to the bride. It contained nothing but papal indulgences 
 and rough stones, and fair throats were opened in some 
 disappointment. 
 
 A lady, however, of more experience, examined the 
 contents, and said that, in her opinion, many of them 
 were uncut gems of great price ; there were certainly a 
 quantity of jaspers and blood-stones, and others of no 
 value at all. "But look at these two pearl-shaped 
 diamonds," said she ; " why, they are a little fortune ; 
 and, oh!" 
 
 The stone that struck this fair creature dumb was a 
 rough ruby as big as a blackbird's egg, and of amazing 
 depth and fire. 
 
 "No lady in England," said she, "has such a ruby to 
 compare with this." 
 
 The information proved correct. The box furnished 
 Helen with diamonds and emeralds of great thickness 
 and quality. But the huge ruby placed her on a level 
 with sovereigns. She wears it now and then in London, 
 but not often. It attracts too much attention, blaz- 
 ing on her fair forehead like a star, and eclipses every- 
 thing. 
 
 Well, what her ruby is amongst stones, she is amongst 
 wives. And he is worthy of her. 
 
540 FOXTL PLAY. 
 
 Through much suffering, injustice, danger, and trouble, 
 they have passed to health, happiness, and peace, and 
 that entire union of two noble hearts, in loyal friend- 
 ship and wedded love, which is the truest bliss this 
 earth affords.