In Strange Company Part 22

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind, you will know soon enough, and, oh, how you will hate me for it! But now,--oh, I cannot, Jack,--I cannot!"

Here she fell to crying, just as she had done on the schooner. It was an exact repet.i.tion of her strange behaviour on that eventful night. I did my best to comfort her, and after a long while succeeded. She dried her tears, and we set off upon our homeward walk. Not satisfied with what she had told me, I determined to renew the subject on the morrow.

But the morrow had something of its own in store for me, of which I could not have even the vaguest idea.

When we returned to the hotel, the Albino was smoking in the verandah.

After a few commonplaces about the beauty of the night, I went into my room to procure a cigar, leaving Juanita alone with him. As soon as I had obtained a weed and lit it I rejoined them. Through no fault of mine they did not perceive me until I was close upon them. Macklin held a paper in his hand, from which I presumed he had just been reading.

Juanita was evidently much put out about something.

"No, no, it's too cruel," she said, "I cannot do it."

To which he replied--

"I tell you, you must. It's all arranged, so don't let me hear any more nonsense about it."

When I coughed to warn them of my presence, both seemed considerably disturbed, though the Albino pa.s.sed it off with his customary ease.

After they retired to their rooms, I remained in the verandah smoking.

Suddenly my eye caught sight of something white upon the ground. Picking it up, I discovered it to be a cablegram from London. It was addressed to Macklin, and ran as follows:--

"Still unclaimed. Come at once. Don't delay."

The signature was a name I had never heard before.

On my way to my room I called in upon him to restore the doc.u.ment, explaining where I had found it. He thanked me civilly enough, and that was the last of the matter for the time.

Breakfast over next morning, I settled myself in an easy-chair beside Juanita in the verandah, and lit a cigar. The Albino was not to be seen, nor had I set eyes on him up to that time. Juanita's behaviour, generally rather strange, was now altogether peculiar. She seemed afraid to look me in the face, and I was in the act of asking her to tell me what was the matter, when she suddenly turned pale, and rising, retired hurriedly into her own apartment. As she disappeared I chanced to look round. A party of Malay police under a Dutch officer were approaching me. The officer held a sheet of paper in his hand. This when he reached my chair he presented, at the same time saying in broken English--

"Ess it you are Jan Ram-say? De captain _Mother Pearl_ sheep?"

Replying to the effect that I was the man he sought, I asked his business, whereupon he said--

"You are arrest, Mynheer, for murder!"

I give you my word I was so astonished you could have knocked me down with a feather. That the warrant, for so I conjectured the paper he held in his hand to be, was for my arrest on a charge of causing the death of the Kanaka Rhotoma Jimmy, I had no doubt; but who could have supplied the information that produced it? How bitterly I blamed myself for delaying to report the matter to the consul! Now it would probably be a matter of some hours before I could free myself.

Seeing that the officer desired me to accompany him, I called Juanita to me, and I shall never forget the look upon her face when she came into the verandah. The officer bowed politely to her.

"Juanita," I said, "I am arrested for the murder of that Kanaka boy.

It's only a matter of form, but it will necessitate my leaving you for an hour or so. Tell Macklin what has happened, and ask him to come at once to our consul, that's a good girl."

Thereupon I surrendered myself to the officer, who, to my supreme annoyance, insisted on handcuffing me like a common malefactor. Then the Malay policemen, wretched little fellows but little bigger than monkeys, ranking themselves on either side, and the officer taking the lead, off we set for the lock-up. Here I was detained for nearly an hour, in company with a collection of the vagabond riff-raff of the town, at the end of which time I was handcuffed again, and marched off to the office of the English consul.

On arrival there I was thrust into a small room and allowed to cool my heels for ten minutes or so. After that I was led into a s.p.a.cious chamber, partaking more of the nature of an office than a court of justice, and placed in what was equivalent to the dock.

An elderly gentleman of dignified appearance, whom I rightly judged to be the consul, sat at a large desk at the further end of the room, busily writing in a book before him. A couple of clerks were ranged at desks hard by, and two or three native policemen lounged near the door.

Presently the consul looked up, and intimated that the case should commence.

I was thereupon charged with having wilfully and maliciously caused the death of a native known as Rhotoma Jimmy, aboard the schooner _Mother of Pearl_ while on a voyage from Vanua Lava to Batavia. Witnesses were called, and, to my delight, the first person to appear was none other than John Macklin. His face when he looked towards me was filled with the deepest concern, and he gave his evidence with well-simulated reluctance.

He deposed to being the owner of the schooner, and therefore my employer; also to having been witness to the _whole_ affray on the night in question. I had, he was extremely sorry to say, always betrayed an intense and unreasoning dislike to the dead man, and for this, on more than one occasion, he had been compelled to remonstrate with me. On the night of the murder I had pulled the man away from the wheel after making some complaint about his steering, and without warning struck him a heavy blow with a belaying-pin on the side of his head, thus undoubtedly causing his death.

I could hardly believe my ears. Was it possible that a man, confessedly my friend, could so unblus.h.i.+ngly swear a fellow-creature's life away?

When he went on to say, that with the exception of this one single instance, I had always borne an excellent character, and that he himself was much attached to me, I could have throttled him where he stood, and gone willingly to the gallows for it.

The next witness was the mate. At least, if he had not seen the affair, he would be able to clear my character of the charge of ill-will against the dead man. But, to my continued horror, he corroborated all the Albino had said, at the same time throwing in some artistic touches of his own, which did not mend matters. When he had done me all the harm he could--G.o.d alone knows for what reason--he stepped down, and the next witness was called. Then who should enter the room but Juanita! My heart leapt for joy. She at least would be true to me, and by her help I might be able to give my enemies the lie. As I looked at her n.o.ble figure, and noted the proud flash of her eyes as she glanced round the court, I could have laughed them all to scorn. But my feeling of confidence was of short duration.

To the first question as to whether she had seen my a.s.sault on the man, she falteringly answered "Yes." Then my heart became heavy as lead; I knew I was ruined and done for. What she told the court further I never heard. When she had given her evidence, she left the room on the Albino's arm weeping bitterly, and I knew I was the victim of as vile a conspiracy as ever was hatched to promote a man's ruin.

Having heard all the witnesses, the consul asked me if I had anything to say. The only chance I could see of saving myself was to request that the crew might be examined, and to this he consented, adjourning the case for that purpose until next day. Disregarding any thought of applying for bail, I allowed myself to be marched away again, not to the lock-up this time, but to the Dutch prison itself, a great rambling barrack of a place on the other side of the town.

Once there, I was cast into a large yard, where a meal of rice was given me. But I was too cast down and utterly miserable to eat. The more I reflected upon my situation, the worse it appeared to become. If my enemies intended thus to swear away my life, goodness only knew what the end would be! The reason for it was what puzzled me. I could make neither head nor tail of it. But though I could not fathom the Albino's motive, I began to see the reason of Juanita's strange behaviour the previous night, and the vague hints she had thrown out that evening alongside the island. Could it be possible that all the time she was in collusion with the Albino? This notion I discarded at once. What most affected me was that they were in league now.

For hours I sat thus brooding over my unhappy fate. At last, unable to bear it any longer, and to distract my thoughts, I turned to examine my companions, and the place in which I was confined. I found myself in a large quadrangle about fifty yards long by thirty wide, bounded on either side by rows of cells, and having at either end high walls of rough masonry, each surmounted with a bristling _cheval de frise_. As far as I could gather, the prisoners confined in that portion of the gaol might have numbered a hundred, and were for the most part Malays and Chinamen, with a sprinkling of Europeans. As soon as they became aware of my presence they crowded round me, gesticulating, and criticising my woe-begone appearance. Among them I noticed one whom I knew at once for an Englishman. In spite of his rags and filth he was the handsomest man I had ever seen; but it was a wild reckless sort of beauty for all that. He came over to me, and placing his hand on my shoulder, said--

"You're an Englishman, I can see. Now, how the deuce do you come here?"

I told him I was accused of murdering a man aboard the s.h.i.+p of which I was skipper, and that my life was being sworn away--

He laughed and went on--

"My boy, I pity you if you once get into this place. Look at me, I've been in here over six months; put away for resenting an insult from a Dutch officer; not allowed to communicate with my consul, and told to hold my jaw directly I ask for justice. I tell you you're in luck's way if you even get brought to trial. The consul will s.h.i.+p you off to Singapore by the next mail, while I'll have to rot here till I can pa.s.s the word to some one outside to make inquiries. That's their notion of civilization in this G.o.d-forsaken country."

At that moment a bell clanged, and the crowd began to scurry into their cells for the night. I found that my new friend and I were located with about fourteen others in the same dormitory. On inspection it proved to be a large bare room, ill-lighted, ill-kept, and, like all other parts of the prison, villainously dirty. The beds such as they were, were strewn about on the floor, just wherever their owners cared to place them, and each one had a new and complicated odour of its own. As soon as we had entered, the door was shut, and we knew that we might consider ourselves locked up for the night.

One thing struck me. I could not help noticing the respect with which my companion was regarded by his fellow-prisoners. His word seemed to rule as law, and no sooner did he express a wish than it was, if it lay within their power, immediately gratified. Thus when he asked that we might be left alone, the rest of the prisoners migrated to the other end of the room, and we were free to continue our conversation uninterrupted.

"Now let's have your story," he said, seating himself on the pile of blankets by my side. "You can't think what a pleasure it is to me to have an Englishman to talk to! You say you're the victim of a conspiracy; tell me all about it from the beginning to the end. Who knows but that I may be able to throw some new light upon the subject."

Beginning at the very commencement, I told him everything, only suppressing Juanita's name. He listened with the utmost attention, and his interest seemed to increase as the story developed. When I had finished, he said--

"By Jove! I begin to think I do see a glimmering of reason in it after all. But it's a strange enough affair, if you like. Now first tell me what sort of man this dwarf is, who proved himself your friend by lending you the money to buy the schooner, and your enemy, by misrepresenting your connection with that n.i.g.g.e.r."

"Well, among other things, he was an Albino."

He jumped up like a shot.

"An Albino and a dwarf? Great snakes! What was his name?"

So taken aback was I by his excitement, that for the instant I could only stare at him. He seemed more affected by my story than if he had undergone it all himself.

"Quickly," he said, "what is the name of this dwarf, this Albino?"

"John Macklin," I answered promptly, and when he heard it he began to pace the room, like a man labouring under some extraordinary emotion.

For a few minutes he occupied himself in this fas.h.i.+on. Then, in the middle of one of his peregrinations, he stopped short, and asked me another question.