Part 6 (1/2)

Having made me comfortable, he went across to the piano and sat down before it. For a few moments he appeared to be thinking, and then his fingers fell upon the notes, and a curious melody followed--the like of which I never remember to have heard before. I have always been strangely susceptible to the influence of music, and I think my host must have discovered this, for presently he began to sing in a low, silky sort of voice, that echoed in my brain for hours afterwards. What the song was I do not know, but while it lasted I sat entranced. When it was finished he rose and came across to me again.

'I hope you will take pity upon a poor hermit, and let me see you sometimes,' he said, lighting another cigarette. 'For the future you must consider this house and all it contains yours, whenever you care to use it.'

I took this as a dismissal and accordingly rose, at the same time thanking him for the treat he had given me.

'Oh, please don't be so grateful!' he said, with a laugh, 'or I shall begin to believe you don't mean it. Well, if you really must be going, let me call your horse.'

He opened the door and gave a peculiar whistle, which was immediately answered from the back premises. A few moments later my horse made his appearance before the front verandah. I shook hands, and, having mounted, looked once more into his curious eyes, and then rode away. It was only when I reached home, and my father asked what answer I had brought back, that I remembered I had learned nothing of the animal about which I had ridden over to inquire.

My father said nothing, because there was nothing to be said, but he evidently thought the more. As for me, I could think of nothing but that curious man, and the peculiar fascination he had exercised over me.

A few days later I met him in the towns.h.i.+p. Directly he saw me he stopped his horse and entered into conversation with me.

'I have been wondering when I should see you again,' he said. 'I was beginning to be afraid you had forgotten that such a person existed.'

'I have been wanting to come up and see you,' I answered, 'but I did not like to thrust myself upon you. You might have been busy.'

'You need never be afraid of that,' he answered, with his usual queer smile. No--please come up whenever you can. I shall always be glad to see you. What do you say to Thursday evening at eight o'clock?'

I answered that I should be very glad to come, and then we separated, and I rode on to see Sheilah.

Thursday evening came, and as soon as I had my supper, I set off across the creek to the old house on the hill. It had struck eight by the time I reached it, and to my surprise I heard the sound of voices coming from the sitting-room. I knocked at the door, and a moment later it was opened by my host himself, who shook me warmly by the hand and invited me to enter. Thereupon I pa.s.sed into the lamp-lit room to discover two young men of the towns.h.i.+p, Pat Doolan and James Mountain, installed there. They were making themselves prodigiously at home, as if they had been there many times before. Which I believe they had.

'I need not introduce you, I suppose?' said my host, looking round. 'You are probably well acquainted with these gentlemen.'

As I had known them all my life, played with them as children, and met them almost every day since, it may be supposed that I was.

We sat down and a general conversation ensued. After a while our host played and sang to us; drinks were served, and later on somebody--I really forget who--suggested a game of cards. The pasteboards were accordingly produced, and for the first time in my life I played for money. When, two hours later, we rose from the table, I was the winner of twenty pounds, while Pete had lost nearly fifty. I went home as happy as a man could well be, with the world in my watch pocket, not because I had won the money, but because I had been successful in something I had undertaken. How often that particular phase of vanity proves our undoing. Two evenings later I returned and won again, yet another evening, and still with the same result. Then the change came, my luck broke. I followed it up, but still lost. After that the sum I had won melted away like snow before the mid-day sun, till, on the fifth evening, I rose from the table having lost all I had previously won and fifteen pounds into the bargain. The next night I played again, hoping to retrieve my fortune, but ill-luck still pursued me, and I lost ten pounds more. This time it was much worse, for I had not enough capital by twenty pounds to meet my liabilities. I rose from the table like many another poor fool, bitterly cursing the hour I had first touched a card.

The others had gone home, and when I prepared to follow them, Pete, to whom I owed the money, accompanied me into the verandah.

'I'm sorry you've had such bad luck lately,' he said quietly. 'But you mustn't let the memory of the small sum you owe me trouble you. I'm in no hurry for it. Fortune's bound to smile on you again before very long, and then you can settle with me at your convenience.'

'To tell the honest truth,' I blurted out, feeling myself growing hot all over, 'I can't pay. I ought not to have played at all.'

'Oh, don't say that,' he answered. 'Remember we only do it for amus.e.m.e.nt. If you let your losses worry you I shall be more than miserable. No! come up next Monday evening, and let us see what will happen then.'

Monday night came and I played and won!

I paid Pete, and then, because I was a coward and afraid to stop lest they should laugh at me, began again. Once more I won, then Fortune again began to frown upon me, and I lost. We played every evening after that with varying success. At last the crash came. One evening, after liquidating my liabilities to the other men, I rose from the table owing Whispering Pete a hundred pounds.

Bidding him good-night, I went down the hill in a sort of stupor. How I was to pay him I could not think. I had not a halfpenny in the world, and nothing that I could possibly sell to raise the money. That night, as may be imagined, I did not sleep a wink.

Next morning I asked my father to advance me the amount in question. He inquired my reason, and as I declined to give it, he refused to consider my request.

After that, for more than a week, I kept away from the house on the hill, being too much ashamed to go near it. My life, from being a fairly happy one, now became a burden to me. I carried my miserable secret locked up in my breast by day, and dreamed of it by night.

Then the climax came. One evening a note from Whispering Pete was brought to me by one of his black boys. I took it into the house and read it with my coward heart in my mouth. It ran as follows:--

'DEAR JIM,--Have you quite forgotten me? I have been hoping every evening that you would come across for a chat. But you never put in an appearance. I suppose you have been too busy mustering lately to have any time to spare for visiting. If you are likely to be at home to-morrow evening, will you come across to supper at eight?--Yours ever,