The Boy Soldier; Or, Garibaldi's Young Captain — page 298: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- SS eS 292 THE BOY SOLDIER; OR, GARIBALDI’S YOUNG CAPTAIN. a EE EE ee “ Not easily ; gold and silver are not very digesti- ble, I think, even to the fishes.” “Tt is very pleasant to us mortals, though,” said Tom, laughing, “Yes, without a doubt; it would take a deal of silver and gold to satisfy my stomach.” ‘‘ And mine also.” . After a short silence, Tom added, ‘Well, such is fate; if my uncle’s wealth has been buried in the sea, we must rest content.” “T think so also, for when the storm abated several persons, the two officers among them, went down to the wreck, and made a close examination of all that remained. Much of the cargo was found ; indeed, all that was worth recovering.” “ But the baggage of the passengers ?” “ Even much of that was also discovered and re- claimed ; but, strange to say, the trunks were all broken open, and much money was stolen there- from ; in fact, Mr. Lancaster, the old banker, says that he lost several hundred sovereigns, some bank- notes, jewellery, and diamonds. Each of the passengers lost something valuable, more or less. But, as I said before, although nearly al the pas- sengers’ baggage was discovered washed upon the beach, not a single thing that belonged to Joel Flint was found.” ‘‘ Singular, indeed.” “Tt is, indeed.” _ ‘But could not the coastguard or wreckers have run away with it ?” “JT don’t think it very probable, because the two detectives placed a watch over the wreck both night and day, and not a single plank could be stolen from under their vigilant eyes.” “There seems to be some mystery here,” said Tom. ‘‘Something strikes me the young villain was not drowned at all, and that before he left the vessel he rifled the passengers’ luggage of all it contained of value,” “I disagree with you, then,” said Gale, “ because, if he was still living, we should hit upon him in some hole or eorner.” “But he is more crafty than you suppose,” said Tom. “I know him of old; he can change his voice and manner in a hundred different ways, The devil himself couldn’t fathom the craftiness of that young villain.” “Perhaps not; but I shall try—that is, if I have the least suspicion that he is really alive,” ‘ “TY doubt whether you will ever succeed,” said om. The detective laughed, as he said, ‘Ah, you don’t know what we detectives can do; we have had much more difficult cases in hand than this before now ; but we generally succeed in the long run, Did you ever hear of that celebrated case of the sham Count de Homburg ?” “No, I never have,” said Tom, lighting a fresh cigar, ‘Then, as we have nothing much “to do to-night, I will tell you the whole story,” said Gale, tossing off a bumper of wine to clear his throat, THE DETECTIVE’S STORY. One of our best detectives, whom I shall here call Morris, had been travelling about for a long time after a celebrated scoundrel, who generally called himself the Count de Homburg. If it had been simply Humbug, it would have been nearer the truth. At other times, however, when very hard up for money, this Count called himself Jack Dingles, and would not scruple to knock a man down on the highway and rob him. Morris, the detective, was a well-educated man, and looked and acted the gentlemen to perfection ; and, moreover, was always liberally supplied with money to carry on his work. He was very often employed to ‘do’ Continental jobs among I'renchmen, Germans, and the lke, and thus knew several languages very well. As he was travelling in the north country among the hills, he arrived at a pretty little village, and in the inn found everything and everybody in confusion. / The magistrate of the place was there with several rural constables, and surrounded by a crowd of idle listeners. It appeared that some one had picked up a child’s cap and pair of shoes on the banks of the river, and child murder was suspected against a young girl who had stayed at the inn the night before. ‘Yes,’ said the magistrate, an old man, very fusay andtalkative. “ Yes,’’ said he, exhibiting the child’s cap and shoes, ‘there cannot be any doubt but that this young woman did the deed, because, why should these articles be found in such a sus- picious place else ?” ‘‘ The rustic audience applauded the magistrate’s wisdom, and swore that wilful murder must have been done, and that no one else could have done it but the young woman who was lodging in the inn, ‘‘ What did this young woman say to you, host, when she called at the inn yesterday ?” “Well, sir, she complained of being very hungry and fatigued.” ‘““ Very well, let that be remembered by all what she observed about being hungry and fatigued ; it has a very ugly look.” ‘Oh! very !” said many, shaking their heads, solemnly. “ What else, landlord ?” _“ She asked what I could provide for her dinner, sir.”’ “More suspicious still. noted,” said the magistrate. case of madness also. Well ?” “And I told her [had nothing but some rabbit pie, which she had, and then retired to bed.” “ Did she pay you beforehand ?” “No, 815 ‘ Another bad sign,” 3 “ But she appeared to be a perfect lady, sir.’’ ‘A worse sign still ; very bad, very bad, indeed. Let every one withdraw,” said the magistrate, in a very pompous manner; “let every one withdraw from my presence, except the landlord and the constables ; I wish to speak to them in private.”’ The villagers withdrew accordingly, and the magistrate was about to make some observation about the case, when Mr, Morris suddenly appeared. “ Hillo, landlord,” said he; “I intend to stay here to-night. I have lost my way to Windermere, and, therefore, prepare me a good dinner of stewed rabbit.” ‘Who is this insolent fellow who dares intrude on our privacy?” said the old magistrate, red with rage, “ Lhaven’t any accommodation,” said the landlord. ‘Oh, yes you have,” said the stranger ; “the room you painted a green colour the day before yesterday will do for me. Thisisit, I'll go in and change my dress, Make haste with the dinner, landlord.” Without more ado, Morris made himself at home and, to the surprise of as if he had known all its ins and outs for years, Let these words be “Tt may turn out a GComicboo (c@) all, marched about the place ~