Part 25 (1/2)
With this sword of Damocles hanging over his head, and the object of his apprehension being daily brought nearer and yet nearer, Shafto was and looked abjectly miserable. FitzGerald rallied him boisterously on his glum appearance, and on being ”off his feed.”
”What on earth ails you?”
To his well-intended queries he invariably received the one brief unsatisfactory answer: ”Nothing.”
Roscoe, too, endeavoured to puzzle out the mystery. It was not the lack of money--Shafto was prompt in his payments; _his_ door was never haunted by bill-collectors, nor had he got into hot water in his office; both his horses were sound. What could it be?
In due course the _Blanks.h.i.+re_ was signalled and arrived, and the usual mob of people swarmed aboard to meet their friends. Among these, carrying a heavy heart, was Shafto; after all, he realised that he must do the right thing and go to receive his cousin; but, amazing to relate, there was no Miss Larcher among the pa.s.sengers! On inquiry he was presented to an excited lady, who had brought her all the way from Tilbury, filling the situation of lady nurse. Miss Larcher had not completed the voyage, but had landed at Colombo! On hearing of his relations.h.i.+p to her late employe, Mrs. Jones, a hot-tempered matron, fell figuratively tooth and nail upon defenceless Shafto. In a series of breathless sentences she a.s.sured him that ”his cousin, Miss Larcher, was no better than an adventuress, and had behaved in the most dishonest and scandalous manner.”
After a moment--to recover her breath--she went on in gasps:
”I took her on the recommendation of a mutual acquaintance, and at our interview she appeared quite all right and most anxious to please; but once on board s.h.i.+p, with her pa.s.sage paid, I soon discovered that she was not anxious to please _me_, but any and every unmarried man she could come across! Such a shameless and outrageous flirt I _never_ saw. As to her duties, she was absolutely _useless_; I don't believe she had ever washed or dressed a child in her life before she came to me; she did nothing but dress herself and sit about the deck with men, leaving me to do her work. When I spoke to her she simply laughed in my face; the children couldn't endure her and screamed whenever she came near them. So I was obliged to do nursemaid whilst she danced and amused herself--and all at my expense. She made no secret of the fact that she was on the look out for a husband; and she has gained her end--for she is married.”
”Married!” repeated Shafto. The news was too good to be true.
”Well, at least they landed at Colombo with that intention,” announced the lady sourly; ”she and a coffee planter, a widower, with a touch of black blood. They were going up country to his estate, and she declared that she was about to have the time of her life--but I doubt it.”
This piece of news was an unspeakable relief to Shafto. The hypocrite listened to the long list of his cousin's enormities with a downcast and apologetic air, whilst all the time he could have shouted for joy.
When at last he was permitted an opportunity of speaking, he a.s.sured the angry matron that he much deplored Miss Larcher's shortcomings.
His sympathy even took a practical form, for he generously offered to refund Mrs. Jones half of Miss Larcher's pa.s.sage money; this the lady vouchsafed to receive and subsequently always spoke of young Shafto as ”a remarkably nice, gentlemanly fellow.” Little did she suspect that the cheque so punctually lodged at her banker's was in the form of a heartfelt thank-offering--the price of a young man's peace!
CHAPTER XXIII
MYSTERY AND SUSPICION
One evening after dinner the four chums--unusual circ.u.mstance--were all present; MacNab, seated at the big round table, engaged in putting up a remarkably neat parcel, the others lounging at ease, smoking and talking.
”Bedad, I know the address of that!” drawled FitzGerald from his long cane chair, ”St. Andrew's Lodge, Crieff, Perths.h.i.+re, N.B.
Ahem--presents endear absents.”
”N.B.,” retorted MacNab, ”_you_ don't send many!”
”Why, man alive, it's all I can do to keep myself in boots! And you're wrong about presents, for I did send my sister a ruby ring out of 'Top-Note's' winnings. Things are getting so bad with me financially”--here he struck a match and then went on--”that some day I'll be obliged to make a present of myself!”
Shafto, who was reading, looked up over the edge of his book and said:
”How do you know you won't be declined with thanks?”
”I will take an observation and make sure, me boy--I'm not a confounded fool. Talking of fools--what about your crazy expedition to-morrow? I say,” addressing himself particularly to Roscoe and MacNab, ”did you know that this fellow is going out tiger shooting? Tiger shooting, if you please! Tiger shooting is to be his way of spending the Sabbath; what do you say to _that_, my stiff-necked Presbyterian?”
”Tiger shooting where?” inquired Roscoe.
”Somewhere near Elephant Point, with Stafford of the Buffers,” replied Shafto. ”We have got leave, a pa.s.s and two trackers.”
”You'll find it a pretty expensive business,” remarked the canny Scotsman.
”Worse than that!” supplemented Roscoe. ”There will be no bag, no tiger skin, claws, whiskers, or fat. As long as I've been in Rangoon--and that's some years--I've been hearing of this same tiger.
Dozens of parties have been out after him, with no success; he is still living on his reputation--just a myth and a fortune to the trappers.