Dead Man's Rock Part 15

"He was standing in the broad light of the sun and watching me intently, with a curious smile which grew as our eyes met. How long he had been there I could not guess, but the strangeness of meeting him on this spot, and the occupation in which I was surprised, discomposed me not a little. Hastily thrusting back the buckle and the parchment into my pocket, I scrambled to my feet and stood facing him. Even as I did so, all Mr. Sanderson's warnings came flas.h.i.+ng into my mind.

"For full a minute we stood confronting each other without a word.

He was still standing in the full blaze of the sunlight, with the same odd smile upon his face, and a peculiar light in his dark eyes that never swerved for a moment. Finally he gave a low laugh and nodding lightly, said--

"'Odd thing our meeting like this, eh? Hand of Fate or some such thing might be mixed up in it from the way we run across each other's path.'

"I a.s.sented.

"'Queer too, you'll allow, that we should both be struck with the fancy for ascending this mountain. Very few Europeans do it, so I'm told. I'm on my way up, are you? No? Coming down and taking things easily, to judge by the way I found you occupied.'

"Was the man mocking me? Or had he, after all, no suspicions?

His voice was soft and pleasant as ever, nor could I detect a trace of irony in its tone. But I was on my guard.

"'This Peak seems strewn with the handiwork of the heathen,' he continued. 'But really you seem to be in luck's way. I congratulate you. What's this? Skeletons, eh? Upon my word, Trenoweth, you've unearthed a treasure. And this? A statue? Well, it's a queer place to come hunting for statues, but you've picked up an ugly-looking beggar in all conscience!'

"He had advanced to the head, which lay in the rank herbage staring up in hideous spite to heaven. Presently he turned to me and said--

"'Well, this is very remarkable. The fellow who carved this seems to have borrowed my features--not very complimentary of him, I must say.

Don't you see the likeness?'

"It was solemn truth. Feature by feature that atrocious face was simply a reproduction of Colliver's. As I stared in amazement, it seemed more and more marvellous that I had not noticed the resemblance before. True, each feature was distorted and exaggerated to produce the utter malignity of its expression. But the face was the face of Colliver. n.o.body could have called him a handsome man, but before this I had found Colliver not unpleasant to look upon.

Now the hate of the statue's face seemed to have reflected itself upon him. I leant against a tree for support and pa.s.sed my hand across my brow as if to banish a fearful dream. But it was no dream, and when he turned to speak again I could see lurking beneath the a.s.sumed expression of the man all the evil pa.s.sions and foul wickedness engraved upon the stone.

"'Well,' he remarked, 'stranger things than this have happened, but not much. You seem distressed, Trenoweth. Surely I, if any one, have the right to be annoyed. But you let your antiquarian zeal carry you too far. It's hardly fair to dig these poor remains from their sepulchre and leave them to bleach beneath this tropical sun, even in the interest of science.'

"With this he knelt down and began to gather--very reverently, as I thought--the bones into a heap, and replace them in their tomb.

This done, he kicked up a lump or two of turf from the little lawn and pressed it down upon them, humming to himself all the while.

Finally he rose and turned again towards me--

"'You'll excuse me, Trenoweth. It's sentimental, no doubt, but I have conceived a kind of respect for these remains. Suppose, for example, this face was really a portrait of one of this buried pair.

Why, then the deceased was very like me. I forgive him for caricaturing my features now; were he alive, it might be different.

But this place is sufficiently out of the way to prevent the resemblance being noted by many. By the way, I forgot to ask how you chanced on this spot. For my part, I thought that I heard something moving in the thicket, so I followed the sound out of pure curiosity, and came upon you. Well, well! it's a strange world; and it's a wonderful thought too, that this may be the grave of some primaeval ancestor of mine who roamed this Peak for his daily food--an ancestor of some importance too, in his day, to judge by the magnificence of his tomb. A poet might make something out of this: to-day face to face with the day before yesterday. But that's the beauty of archaeology. I did not know it was a pursuit of yours, and am glad to see you are sufficiently recovered of your illness to take it up again. Good-bye for the present. I am obliged to be cautious in taking farewell of you, for we have such a habit of meeting unexpectedly. So, as I have to be up and moving for the summit, I'll say 'Good-bye for the present.' We may as well leave this image where it is; the dead won't miss it, and it's handy by, at any rate.

_Addio_, Trenoweth, and best of luck to your future researches.'

"He was gone. I could hear him singing as he went a strange song which he had often sung on the outward voyage--

"'Sing hey! for the dead man's lips, my lads; Sing ho! for the dead man's soul.

At his red, red lips. . . .'

"The song died away in the distance before I moved. I had hardly opened my lips during the interview, and now had much ado to believe it a reality. But the newly-turfed grave was voucher enough for this. A horror of the place seized me; I cast one shuddering look at the giant face and rushed from the spot, leaving the silent creepers to veil once more that awful likeness from the eyes of day.

"As I emerged upon the track again I came upon Peter and Paul, who were seeking me high and low, with dismay written upon their faces.

Excusing my absence as best I could, I declared myself ready, in spite of my ankle, to make all haste in the descent. Of our journey down the Peak I need say little, except that, lame as I was, I surprised and exhausted my guides in my hurry. Of the dangers and difficulties which had embarra.s.sed our ascent I seemed to feel nothing. Except in the cool of the forest, the heat was almost insufferable; but I would hear of no delay until we reached Ratnapoora. Here, instead of returning as we had come, we took a boat down the Kalu-ganga river to Cattura, and thence travelled along the coast by Pantura to Colombo.

"The object of my journey is now accomplished: and it only remains to hasten home with all speed. But I am feeling strangely unwell as I write this. My head has never fully recovered that blow at Bombay, and I think the hours during which I remained exposed to the sun's rays, by the side of that awful image, must have affected it.

Or perhaps the fatigue of the journey has worn me out. If I am going to sicken I must hide my secret. It would be safer to bury it with the Journal, at any rate for the time, somewhere in the garden here.

I have a tin box that will just answer the purpose. My head is giving me agony. I can write no more."

CHAPTER X.

CONTAINS THE THIRD AND LAST PART OF MY FATHER'S JOURNAL: SETTING FORTH THE MUTINY ON BOARD THE _BELLE FORTUNE_.

"June 19th.--Strange that wherever I am hospitably entertained I recompense my host by falling ill in his house. Since my last entry in this Journal I have been lying at the gate of death, smitten down with a sore sickness. It seems that the long exposure and weariness of my journey to the Peak threw me into a fever: but of this I should soon have recovered, were it not for my head, which I fear will never be wholly right again. That cowardly blow upon Malabar Hill has made a sad wreck of me; twice, when I seemed in a fair way to recovery, has my mind entirely given way. Mr. Eversleigh, indeed, a.s.sures me that my life has more than once been despaired of--and then what would have become of poor Margery? I hope I am thankful to G.o.d for so mercifully sparing my poor life, the more so because conscious how unworthy I am to appear before Him.

"I trust I did not betray my secret in my wanderings. Mr. Eversleigh tells me I talked the strangest stuff at times--about rubies and skeletons, and a certain dreadful face from which I was struggling to escape. But the security of my Journal and the golden clasp, which I recovered to-day, somewhat rea.s.sures me. I am allowed to walk in the garden for a short s.p.a.ce every day, but not until to-day have I found strength to dig for my h.o.a.rd. I can hardly describe my emotions on finding it safe and sound.

"Poor Margery! How anxious she must be getting at my silence.

I will write her to-morrow--at least I will begin my letter to-morrow, for I shall not have strength to finish it in one day.

Even now I ought not to be writing, but I cannot forbear making an entry in my recovered Journal, if only to record my thankfulness to Heaven for my great deliverance.

"June 22nd.--I have written to Margery, but torn the letter up on second thoughts, as I had better wait until I hear news of a vessel in which I can safely travel home. Mr. Eversleigh (who is very kind to me, though not so hearty as Mr. Sanderson) will not hear of my starting in my present condition. I wonder in what part of the world Colliver is travelling now.

"July 1st.--Oh, this weary waiting! Shall I never see the sh.o.r.es of England again? The doctor says that I only make myself worse with fretting; but it is hard to linger so--when at my journey's end lies wealth almost beyond the imagination, and (what is far more to me) the sight of my dear ones.

"July 4th.--In answer to my entreaties, Mr. Eversleigh has consented to make inquiries about the homeward-bound vessels starting from Colombo. The result is that he has at once allayed my impatience, and compa.s.sed his end of keeping me a little longer, by selecting-- upon condition that I approve his choice--an East Indiaman due to sail in about a fortnight's time. The name of the s.h.i.+p is the _Belle Fortune_, and of the captain, Cyrus Holding. In spite of the name the s.h.i.+p is English, and is a barque of about 600 tons register.

Her cargo consists of sugar and coffee, and her crew numbers some eighteen hands. To-morrow I am going down with Mr. Eversleigh to inspect her, but I am prepared beforehand to find her to my liking.

The only pity is that she does not start earlier.

"July 6th.--Weak as I am, even yesterday's short excursion exhausted me, so that I felt unable to write a word last night. I have been over the _Belle Fortune_, and am more than pleased, especially with her captain, whose honest face took my fancy at once. I have a most comfortable cabin next to his set apart for me, at little cost, since it had been fitted up for a lady on the outward voyage: so that I shall still have a little money in pocket on my return, as my living, both here and at Bombay, has cost me nothing, and the doctor's bills have not exhausted my store. I wrote to Margery to-day, making as light of my illness as I could, and saying nothing of the business on Malabar Hill. That will best be told her when she has me home again, and can hold my hand feeling that I am secure.

"July 8th.--I have been down again to-day to see the _Belle Fortune_.

I forgot to say that she belongs to Messrs. Vincent and Hext, of Bristol, and is bound for that port. The only other pa.s.sengers are a Dr. Concanen and his wife, who are acquaintances of Mr. Eversleigh.

Dr. Concanen is a physician with a good practice in Colombo, or was-- as his wife's delicate health has forced him to throw up his employment here and return to England. Mr. Eversleigh introduced me to them this morning on the _Belle Fortune_. The husband is almost as tall as my host, and looks a man of great strength: Mrs. Concanen is frail and worn, but very lovely. To-day she seemed so ill that I offered to give up my cabin, which is really much more comfortable than theirs. But she would not hear of it, insisting that I was by far the greater invalid, and that a sailing vessel would quickly set her right again--especially a vessel bound for England. Altogether they promise to be most pleasant companions. I forgot to say that Mrs. Concanen is taking a native maid home to act as her nurse.

"July 11th.--We start in a week's time. I had a long talk with Captain Holding to-day; he hopes to make a fairly quick pa.s.sage, but says he is short of hands. I have not seen the Concanens since.

"July 16th.--We sail to-morrow afternoon. I have been down to make my final preparations, and find my cabin much to my liking.

Captain Holding is still short of hands.

"July 17th., 7.30 p.m.--We cast off our warps shortly after four o'clock, and were quickly running homeward at about seven knots an hour. The Concanens stood on deck with me watching Ceylon grow dim on the horizon. As the proud cone of Adam's Peak faded softly and slowly into the evening mist, and so vanished, as I hope, for ever out of my life, I could not forbear returning thanks to Providence, which has thus far watched over me so wonderfully. There is a fair breeze, and the hands, though short, do their work well to all appearances. There were only fifteen yesterday, three having been missed for about a week before we sailed; but I have not yet seen Captain Holding to ask him if he made up his number of hands at the last moment. Mrs. Concanen has invited me to their cabin to have a chat about England.

"July 18th.--I am more disturbed than I care to own by a very curious discovery which I made this morning. As I issued on deck I saw a man standing by the forecastle, whose back seemed familiar to me.

Presently he turned, and I saw him to be Simon Colliver. He has most strangely altered his appearance, being dressed now as a common sailor, and wearing rings in his ears as the custom is. Catching sight of me, he came forward with a pleasant smile and explained himself.

"'It is no manner of use, Trenoweth; we're fated to meet. You did not expect to see me here in this get-up; but I learnt last night you were on board. You look as though you had seen a ghost! Don't stare so, man--I should say 'sir' now, I suppose--it's only another of fortune's rubs. I fell ill after that journey to the Peak, and although Railton nursed me like a woman--he's a good fellow, Railton, and not as rough as you would expect--I woke up out of my fever at last to find all the money gone. I'm a fellow of resource, Trenoweth, so I hit on the idea of working my pa.s.sage home; by good luck found the _Belle Fortune_ was short of hands, offered my services, was accepted--having been to sea before, you know--sold my old clothes for this costume--must dress when one is acting a part-- and here I am.'

"'Is Railton with you?' I asked.

"'Oh, yes, similarly attired. I did not see you yesterday, being busy with the cargo, so that it's all the more pleasant to meet here.

But work is the order of the day now. You'll give me a good character to the captain, won't you? Good-bye for the present.'

"I cannot tell how much this meeting has depressed me. Certainly I have no reason for disbelieving the man's story, but the frequency and strangeness of our meetings make it hard to believe them altogether accidental. I saw Railton in the afternoon: he is greatly altered for the worse, and, I should think, had been drinking heavily before he s.h.i.+pped; but the captain was evidently too short of hands to be particular. I think I will give the Concanens my tin box to hide in their cabin. Of course I can trust them, and this will baffle theft; the clasp I will wear about me. This is a happy idea; I will go to their cabin now and ask them. It is 9.30 p.m., and the wind is still fair, I believe.

"July 20th.--We have so far kept up an average speed of seven and a half knots an hour, and Captain Holding thinks we shall make even better sailing when the hands are more accustomed to their work.

I spend my time mostly with the Concanens--who readily, by the way, undertook the care of my tin box--and find them the most agreeable of fellow-travellers. Mrs. Concanen has a very sweet voice, and her husband has learnt to accompany it on the guitar, so that altogether we spend very pleasant evenings.