I was going again on a voyage with Marjorie; going, though the route might be slightly circuitous, to a land where she and I were to be indissolubly united. Is it any wonder I was happy?
The crowd of boatmen that a.s.sailed us at the water"s edge nearly carried me off my feet. Money is too scarce in Barbados to make the possible gain of a dollar a light matter. One of the men caught me, however, by the name of his craft, which he repeated loudly. "Here yo" is, Ma.s.sa; de Marjorie, dat"s yo" boat, Ma.s.sa!" I engaged him on the spot and a black patrolman scattered the horde of disappointed applicants. Our baggage and ourselves filled the little boat, but we knew we were safe. Off we started for the big black steamer, near which I could discern the American man-of-war "Cincinnati," bringing a leap of patriotic blood to my heart.
Home? We were almost at home now, with the stars and stripes floating so near us!
The "Don" and the "Marjorie." What could be more propitious?
"I hope you won"t scold me, Don," said Marjorie, in a low voice, "but I have taken a liberty that perhaps I should have spoken about beforehand."
"Take any liberty you like, sweetheart," I answered. "I am yours now, to do what you please with."
She drew off one of her gloves and advancing a hand asked me to inspect it. After doing so for a minute I told her I saw nothing except the dearest hand in the world; upon which I took it up and kissed it.
"Don"t you notice that I am wearing another ring?" she said, flushing.
She certainly was: A gold ring at that and a plain one. It was on her wedding finger, too.
My first thought was that she had summoned a minister and married me during my illness. This was too good to be true and I at once dismissed it.
"You are not yet quite well," she explained, demurely, "and I shall have to be in your cabin frequently. I thought it best to avoid attracting notice, and as I had that ring of my mother"s--I just--put it on."
How sweet it was of her; how confiding!
"But our names on the pa.s.senger list?" I said.
"That is all arranged. We are Mr. and Mrs. Camwell."
It was bliss enough for one day. Nothing but the purest thoughts regarding her could enter my head now. She was to be my wife!
The next morning she arranged a pleasant way to pa.s.s the time. Our cabin was very large and roomy, and she said she could go on with my "novel"
quite as well there as on sh.o.r.e. She made me recline on my berth, which had no other above it, and dictation was therefore done entirely at my ease. It was undoubtedly better for me to keep my mind actively employed, and the task to which I set myself was a most agreeable one.
My darling recorded the lines I gave her, with rapidity, and made very few audible comments that day, although it was evident from the tell-tale expression of her mobile countenance that she was keenly alive to each situation I detailed. The lines that seemed to affect her most were those wherein I confessed the depth, the sincerity and the purity of the love that had sprung up in my heart.
She could not complain that I was misrepresenting her own part in these affairs, for I thought no alteration could improve a straightforward statement of the real facts as they appeared to me. She winced a little--I thought more about that afterwards--when I referred to seeing Wesson in my stateroom on the Pretoria and again when I spoke of meeting him in close converse with Edgerly in Barbados.
The nearest she came to a full stop was when I related the reasons I had for believing Wesson stole the book from Eggert and was more than likely the thief who had taken the jewels, but after a second her fingers flew over the keys as usual.
The waters through which we were pa.s.sing were smooth as any millpond. I have never seen so calm a sea, and my tranquil mind sorted with it perfectly. There was nothing that could add to my happiness. I believed each revolution of the steamer"s screw brought me nearer the goal of my ambition, the possession of my lovely companion as my true and lawful bride. In the meantime I was producing what I had no doubt would give me a successful embarkation on the sea of literary fame, a voyage I had long aspired to take.
During the three days the "Don" occupied in going from Greytown to Kingston we accomplished much. Marjorie gasped several times when I came to the chapter that detailed my entrance into Wesson"s room and my success in finding the packet containing the missing diamonds. As I told of my interview with the rascal she grew as pale as chalk, but she did not entirely stop her writing. At last we came to the time when the "novel" itself was begun and she brightened enough to say that we were walking now in our own tracks. But, at the bald revelation of the things I had said to her when I lost my temper, and demanded back the very clothes she wore, she protested.
"You are unjust to yourself to put that literally in your story," she said, pleadingly. "Your readers will never feel the extent of your provocation. It makes you appear a very detestable character."
"It must go in--exactly as it happened," I answered. "I had no valid excuse for the contemptible things I did. The public will consider it all a piece of fiction. I think it necessary to show the extent to which I lost my reason when I believed I had lost you. It is much safer in a novel to abuse the "hero" than the "heroine.""
Seeing that nothing would move me she went on as I dictated and when the boat was due to arrive at Jamaica the next day we had reached the very words you are now reading. I had apparently recovered my strength entirely. That night I slept as soundly as if I had never known illness or mental trouble. In the morning we went early upon deck to see the entrance to the Harbor and had a pleasant talk with Captain Tindall, one of those affable and handsome men that England produces in such numbers and a.s.signs to this duty all over the world.
Inquiry had convinced me that there was but one suitable place to stay at in Kingston--the Myrtle Bank Hotel--and the result proved the wisdom of my choice. While open to some slight criticism--as what hotel is not?--it was on the whole a delightful home to us during our brief stay.
There being no more work to do at present I occupied the hours in talks, walks and drives with Marjorie, happy as the b.u.t.terflies among the roses in the pretty park which separates the hotel from the sh.o.r.e.
We went one day to visit a camp of soldiers in the suburbs, on another to the Constant Spring Hotel, situated six miles from town in a mountain nook, to Castleton Gardens and Hope Gardens, beautiful for situation and high culture, with lovely roads leading to each. Again, we took the train to Spanish Town and drove to Bog Walk, as pretty a bit of scenery as one could desire. And later we pa.s.sed several days at Mandeville, some fifty miles or so away, a village perched among the hills 2100 feet above the sea, where the scent of coffee flowers and orange blossoms fairly filled the delicious air and the thermometer recorded a degree of heat more grateful than that to be found in the lowlands. I noted the mercury at 70 when I went to bed, at 60 when I rose, and at 75 when the sun was in the zenith. I really do not know another spot more charming in any land, in March or April.
Besides this we visited Montpelier, Montego Bay and Port Antonio, seeing at the latter place a steamer of the Boston Fruit Company setting sail for the Hub with an immense cargo of bananas and oranges. The country thereabout is one field of those fruits, combined with the stately cocoanut palms, while a short distance away tobacco is grown that rivals the famed product of unhappy Cuba. On the 28th we bade farewell to the island, with genuine regret on my part at least, and took the little "Beta" of the Halifax line for Bermuda.
Before we left Kingston a batch of letters was received, some for each of us, and I did not attempt to annoy Marjorie this time by prying into her correspondence. My confidence in her was now at its highest point.
She did not write any answers, nor did I, as we were so soon to reach home. After three days in Bermuda we started for America. I saw that, for some reason, she wanted to return, and with the hope that filled my breast I had no wish to prolong our absence.
It was agreed that we would have to separate when we touched land, she to go to her old lodgings and I to mine, but I stipulated that we were to meet again within a very few days and that she was to write me when to expect her. As I saw her enter her carriage, with her baggage strapped behind, I held myself well in hand, though the wish to embrace her at parting nearly overpowered me.
"You will write as soon as possible?" I said, interrogatively.
"Yes," she answered. "I will write; and then, if you still insist, I will come to you."
If I still insisted! I did not believe as I saw her wheels disappear in the street that anything could change the resolutions I held so dear!
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE BRUTAL TRUTH.
Three days pa.s.sed--three awfully slow days, though I visited Harvey Hume and Tom Barton, spent every evening at the theatre, and loafed away many hours at the club, where the boys made me tell them of the islands I had visited and asked my opinion over and over, (as if it amounted to anything) in relation to the probability of a war between the United States and Spain. I refused to enlighten Harvey at the time in reference to his question whether I had not been quite as happy "without my secretary" as if I had taken one. I said I would have something to tell him one of these days and that he must be content until that time came.
Tom was the same dear fellow as of yore, but Statia, who came in to welcome me, was as sphynx-like as on the eve of my departure.
I also had to run in a moment on my Uncle Dugald, who gave me his hand in his old, impa.s.sive manner, and expressed the opinion that I looked better, on the whole, than when I went away. A brief call on Dr.
Chambers completed my list. I thought that excellent gentleman looked a trifle disappointed when I called his attention to my improved physique and said I was as well as I had ever been in my life. I have no wish to do him an injustice, for it was certainly a feather in his cap when he raised me out of the Slough of Despond and made me fit to travel at all; but it is only natural if professional men are not filled with special delight at announcements that their services are no longer required.
On the third evening there came a packet from Miss May--at last! an awfully big packet, which set me to wondering what it could possibly contain. I thought as I received it from the messenger that it would have answered for a presidential message to Congress on the Cuban situation, with all the correspondence that had pa.s.sed between the United States and Spain since the blowing up of the warship. It may be believed I lost no time in tearing open the paper that encircled the missives. Inside I found a small envelope marked "Open first," and a larger one inscribed, "Read this only after you have read the other carefully." All this was so deliberate and so much like a deep plan that I was far from my ease when I complied with the request and cut the smaller envelope. And the reader may well believe that my sensations were not of a very enviable nature when I read these lines:
My Dear Mr. Camran: I know no easy way to break the truth I am obliged to send. If you have any doubt of being able to bear a shock without medical attendance do not read what I have placed in the other envelope until you have summoned your physician. I fear it will not be pleasant reading, but you must have the truth. At least, I must keep my promise now of lying only to others and not to you.
With this warning, I subscribe myself, for the last time,
Yours,
M.M.
April 8th, 1898.
I was surprised at the calmness with which I saw all my hopes blown to the winds in a single paragraph. Curiosity was the most p.r.o.nounced feeling in my mind at the moment. I took a long breath, steadied my nerves for an instant, and then opened the larger envelope. There were typewriter sheets, twelve in number, done, apparently, on a Remington machine. And this is what I read:
Prepare yourself to hear the worst about me, my dear friend, for your imagination could hardly make me out a greater scamp than I am. Know then, to begin with, your companion in the Caribbean was a well-known criminal, whose entire trip with you was planned for the purpose of fraud. If she failed to accomplish that end you must ascribe it to a weak yielding to sentimental considerations, of which she should--from a professional standpoint--be heartily ashamed.
If you have survived this statement, read on, and I will be more explicit. I am what is known to the police as a "confidence woman." My usual game is to beguile persons of the opposite s.e.x into "falling in love" with me and then fleece them out of as large a sum as I can do with safety to myself. I may add, without egotism, that I have been fairly successful in this, my chosen field. If you care to get another copy of that book I stopped you from reading at St. Thomas, "Our Rival, the Rascal," you will find on one of its pages a fairly accurate portrait of your humble servant, though the name affixed is not by any means the one I thought it wise to give you.
One of my favorite methods of making the acquaintance of probable victims is through the advertising columns of newspapers. I have found no better medium for the purpose than the "Personals" in the New York Herald; it is generally to be supposed that a masculine individual who will use that column or reply to anything contained therein is good game for my purpose.