Beadle's New York Dime Library, No. 108 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

we 2 Rint ie Aa == ~ ow _ -—— — he . | —— -— = > — = ee ye ee = 2 * time? Kin ye talk 20 SEE CHAPTER XXIX. | /FATAL CURIOSITY. A TELEGRAM had been dispatched from Alex- andria ordering the Snapper to come there and receive her captain as soon as she got through the canal, and Owen Lawton began to feel easier in his mind, now that the prospect of pro- fessional disgrace was averted. It was agreed that inasmuch as it would be impossible to keep the matter forever from Lo- relia, she was to be told a story about a burst- ing gun and the amputation of her nephew’s arm; for somehow Sir Lumley still shrunk from letting any one know the true secret of the Duke of Diamantina’s enmity toward his family. He was doomed to keep a smiling face toward that person before the world, knowing in his heart that his secret was no secret to at least two people besides Diamantina and the princess; namely, O’Shea and the American. He had not seen O’Shea after their short meeting in Cairo, but the very next day after Sir Lumley’s arrival in Alexandria, he came across the jolly Captain of Control, parading the docks in a bustling and absorbed fash- ion. He could not avoid noticing him, for it was his torture to be compelled to give outward civility to those he knew to be his secret foes. Something impelled him now to go up to O’Shea in the midst of the street, and hold out his hand, saying: ‘O'Shea, have you forgotten that we are at least countrymen?” The honest Irishman looked a little confused, for the question hit him in a weak place. ‘*T hope not, Sir Lumley,” he answered, try- ing to be stiff. ‘*And yet you’re joining my enemies to blacken my character,” said the baronet, bit- terly. ‘‘ You were a sergeant when I first saw ou, in a corps where no man ever yet rose rom the ranks; and I got you a commission and helped you along. Yow’ve no cause to turn against me, O’Shea, at least.” e captain was so much taken aback that he could not answer a word, and Sir Lumley con- tinued: ‘*Are you hunting up something else to put in the papers about me?” ** No, the powers, no, Sir Lumley. I’m only looking for a vessel to go to Cyprus in. I’ve orders from the department to go there and make a report on the best station for troops.” Sir Lumley was unaffectedly rised. ** For troops! What troops? e don’t own Cy rus.” Sure, don’t ye know Lord Beaconsfield’s made a treaty with the Porte, and that seven thousand troops are coming from India to Malta?” asked O’Shea. Then Sir Lumley remembered how he had heard of this curious stroke of the Israelite pre- mier’s policy. “Yes, but what of Cyprus?” he asked. ** As soon as they get through in Malta, and the Roosians come near to Constantineple, our blacks go to Cyprus. Mum’s the word, Sir Lumley. I’m waiting for a Yankee skipper to take methere, now. Ah, here he comes, bedad.” Sir Lumley saw gprs pees, Some a tall, thin, yellow personage, in a shambling nautical suit of blue serge, and asked: ** Who is this Yankee, and where is he going?” ‘*His name’s Carver, and he commands a ship gong ona roving trip in the Algean, ending at thens.” “Then, by Jove, he’s my man,” said Sir Lum- ley to himself, as he watched the tall Yankee chaffering with O’Shea, and wondered to him- self where he had seen his face. The captain’s business was soon settled, and he turned to Sir Lumley. “jt’s all right, Sir Lumley. Wesail to-night. Bedad, I wis Miss Helen was goin’along. It'll be a * be nen trip for her, if she does.” ‘*Perhaps we may,” assented the baronet. ‘*Have you any more room in your cabin, Mr.—ah—I haven’t the pleasure.” ‘*Carver, sir, Capting Carver air my handle,” answered the sailor, with a strong nasal accent. ‘‘Roomin the cabin?) How many air there?’ ‘““Three of us—two ladies.” ‘‘Then I’m jest the critter kin do it, eunnel,” was the eager reply. ‘‘Do you want to go _Athens, quietly ”” -. era Sir Lumley gave a slight shudder. He wanted to lose himself for a little while, till that horri- ble newspaper story died out. He couldn’t bear to think o going on a P. & O. steamer, now, where every one knew him, and would be pest- -ering him with all sorts of questions. Captain Carver clapped him on the shoulder in a familiar way. “Say no more; the cabin air yourn, if you like to pay the price, a hundred dollars a head. We'll be some time on the v’y’ge, cunnel, but ye don’t keer for that, I s’pose?” Oo. “ And yell be as quiet as the grave, all the reek, cunnel?” “T used to read it at school,” answered the baronet, shortly, GE eo a ——- --— —— —- — eee ee The Duke of Diamonds. — ** Waal, ye’ll heva chance to brush it up along of these sailors, who speaks it naterally. What name might [ call you by, cunnel?’ ‘*Lumley,” answered the baronet, his face flushing; *‘ Colonel Lumley.” “Waal, Colonel Lumley, you jest step into the bank with me, and pay your passage money, and [ll send up the boys for your traps, to onst. Where do Y ws hang out?” Sir Lumley told him, and went with him to the bank, where he paid out, with great satis- faction, his poanee money, after which he de- parted with O’Shea to the hotel, where he found Lieutenant Sloman, who had come, full of sym- pathy for his unlucky commander, with a party of sailors to take him back to the Snapper, which was already in the offing, waiting. The parting between father and son and the rest of the family was painful and affect- ing. Even aunt Lorelia forgot her selfishness so far as to pity and condole with poor Owen, as the sailors took him off on a litter to the port; and Helen wept bitterly, perhaps the more so because Clarence Hart, who had been so kind to her brother the day before, had entirely dis- appeared, no one knew whither. e had kept the duke’s counsel so well that they did not even know in whose hands he had put himself, save that he was going to some place called Melapetros. . After Owen’s departure, Helen was quite willing to — up and depart herself; and neither of the ladies had any objection to Sir Lumley’s plan of a quiet sail among the Greeks of the Aigean. There was something mysteri- ous in the air, Helen could not tell what, that gave her a vague feeling of uneasiness while they stayed in Egypt. She was quiet and observant, and had noticed that the people at the table @hote stared at them every time her eyes were away, and then looked guilty and ashamed of themselves when detected. She had noticed that her father kept a strict watch over all the newspapers, and that she had not seen one since she had been in Cairo, Like a true woman, she was not to be mysti- fied for long in vain; and, waiting till she found her chance, she rung the bell of the hotel par- lor when her aunt and father were both away, and feed the waiter handsomely to bring her the Cairo papers for the last three days. The boy, a smart Maltese, not caring to diso- blige a lady who paid so handsomely, brought her a small pile of Alexandria and Cairene pa- pers, on the top of which, in conspicuous capi- tals, she saw the Bord du Nil extra, with the account of the duel, a light and frivolous jest, as she thought it, on the maiming and almost death of her only brother. Pale with indignation, she read it through, and then turned to the French art, where she came on that leader which had driven Sir Lum- ley out of Cairo. As she slowly read it, half- aloud, her face grew paler and paler, and then she rose up and threw down the paper on the floor, trampling on it and muttering with white lips: MM Oh, the cowards! To stab a gentleman in his sorrow like that!’’ But there was something fascinating in that horrible journal after all. She took it up again and found it referred to a former article; and lo! there was the Times clipping in the very next number, which told her the true nature of the accusation against her father. With a choking sob the poor girl clutched the two papers up and hurried away to the silence of her own apartment, where she wept bitter tears of shame and anger at her sudden degra- dation. Now she understood the gloom of her father since they were at Shepherd’s; his sudden flight from Cairo, and their present trip to sea. ‘Oh, Father of Mercy!” sob Helen, ‘‘ can it be true? My father a—” She could not say what she meant. The crime of which he was accused was one not known to the law, that does injustice be- tween Frank and Hindoo; but it was one so mean and base, so tom ge Sy all pretensions of gentlemanly character, that she | heme in very bitterness of anguish as she thought of it. A traitor who betrayed a noble prince to death; a thief who robbed a corpse; a hypocrite who had allowed his own sister to become the byword of all Cairo for wearing the watch he had stolen and lied about! ‘Oh, if can’t! itcan’t! It shall not be true!” roaned poor Helen to herself; and then she eard the quick imperative knock of her father at her door. ‘Nelly, my child, quick, are you ready? The porters are here for the baggage.” ‘ She opened the door and came out with the papers in her hands. ‘Is that true?” was all she said, ber blue eyes gleaming out of a wan white face at Sir 4 ren’ staggered back. ‘‘My God!” he cried. ‘‘How did you get those papers?” ‘Ts it true ?” she repeated; and then, as he paled in silence, she said, in a strange, hard voice: “Itis. I see it in your face. God help us all!” —— me ee ee ee. eae CHAPTER XXX. AMONG THE SPONGE-FISHERS. THERE is no part of the world perhaps where the combination of natural beauty and roman- tic association is so striking as in a cruise among the islands of the Greek Archipelago. When the voyage is taken in a vessel manned by Greek sailors, the perfection of lazy enjoyment is reached, for the modern Greeks are as full of wild legends as their fathers of old, and flit from coast to coast in the same childlike fashion, with implicit faith in the existence of iants and cannibals on every shore that is un- own to them. The Lawton family, after their late experi- ence in Egypt, found the repose on board the good ship Aphrodite very pleasant. To Helen especially, whose pride had been sorely lacerated, it was a blessed relief. Aunt Lorelia found it a bore; but aunt Lorelia did not know all, as her niece did. To Sir Lumley it seemed as if he had escaped from the bad consequences of his former life, and he was content to loiter on, every day tak- ing him: further away from the humiliating memories of public scorn at Cairo. Here on the seas th: y were unknown, save as the ‘“‘ Lumley family;” and the Yankee skipper, with his Greek crew, treated them with perfeci; respect, asking no questions; while Captain O’Shea was unusually cc urteous, even for him. Thus they loitered about the coast of Cyprus, moving from port to port on all sorts of er- ranas, the skipper seeming to have made a sort of general express agency cf his ship, delivering his cargo in small parcels, till at last they squared away from Cyprus for Crete, and ran down into the midst of a sponge-fishery. Here, Helen expressing a wish to see the pro- ceedings of the divers, the skipper told them they could take the ship’s shore-boat with a pair of oars when they liked. Captain O’Shea pro- posing that he and Sir Lumley should row, so as to get rid of the Greek sailors, who could not understand a word of English, the little party of four left the Aphrodite, which at once squared her main-yard and stood off from the coast. At first they hardly noticed this, thinking she would come back in a short time; but as the distance between them grew greater and great- er, and no symptoms of return became visible, aunt Lorelia began to be frightened. *“*“My gvod gracious, Lumley!” she cried, ‘*those pirates—1’m sure they must be pirates— are leaving us. We shall all be murdered.” **Oh, nonsense, Lora,” answered Sir Lumley, though himself a little uneasy; ‘they only want to give us a chance to enjoy ourselves among the sponge-fishers. Look at that fellow just going to dive. Isn’t he a model for a sculp- tor? Come, O’Shea, pull on.” And into the midst of the sponge-divers they rowed, where they were received with a shower of polite Patel in Greek, of which they only understood *‘ Kaliméra” ( Good-day ”). They were so much interested in watching the divers that they forgot all about the ship till they heard the creaking of blocks and spars near by. and, looking up, saw a large, brown- sailed felucca gliding in SS sponge-tish- ers, and heading straight for their own craft. Imagining that she had come to collect loads from the other boats they paid no attention to her beyond noticing the picturesqueness of her cine car till they were surprised and alarm- ed to find her bumping up against them as if she meant to run them down. The next moment, a big, black-mustached fellow, with a red jacket, blue leggings, white kilt, sash full of pistols, and a gencral des- perado look about him, caught up the painter of their boat with a boat-hook, coolly pulled the rope on board and hauled it taut ere they could recover from their first surprise. ‘¢ What the devil are you doing there?” shout- ed Sir Lumley, as soon as he could recover hi, senses. ‘* Let go that painter, you Greek ruf- fian, you!” Tho only reply’ of the Greek was: ‘“« Kaliméra, keerie,” (Good-day, sir,) deliver. ed in a mocking-kind of manner, as he secured the end of the painter to a belaying-pin; and then the felucca glided away through the midst of the sponge-fishers, who laughed and jabbered Greek to each other, as if the whole thing were a good joke, as the foreigners were towed away. ir Lumley’s first anger had given way to a sensation of uneasiness; Lorelia was screaming, Helen pale with fear; while Captain O’Shea was fumbling in vain in the pockets of his coat, lying onthe seat, for a pistol, which he remembered too late he had left behind him. And in the meantime the felucca swept on, towing the boat through the water, bumpin inst her, an unresisting captive, till they ha = eared the sponge-divers and were standing out sea, ‘* What do you suppose they want, O’Shea?” asked Sir Lumie ‘ nak thoroughly alarmed. ‘*Divil a one o’ me knows,” was the flustered reply; for O’Shea began to feel decidedly un- comfortable. ‘‘Maybe we’ve poached on some of their sponge preserves.” _ ‘“‘ But where’s the Aphrodite” asked the baro- net, peering round him and seeing nothing in / comicbooks.co - _ +¢ m