I hastened to continue the conversation. "Poor chap!" I said; "from all accounts he must have stood pretty close to death that night. Now what we are trying to do is to find him. You say he went South last week in the _Oodnadatta_, intending to bring up in Sydney. You don't happen to know what his address is there, do you? It is of the utmost importance to us that we should find him with as little delay as possible."

Birch thought for a few moments, and then shook his head. "I'm afraid I can tell you nothing that would help you," he said. "All the fellow wanted from morning till night was to get South as fast as possible. His wife was in Sydney, he said, and he was afraid she would be anxious until she saw him in the flesh again. That was his one cry--get South--get South."

"And he never told you whether he lived in Sydney or out in the Bush?"

"He never told us where he lived at all. On that point he was as silent as an oyster."

"But if he's a parson, it should not be a very difficult matter to find out where his charge is," said Mr. Leversidge; "particularly now that there's been all this light thrown on his name. Of course you know of what persuasion he was a minister?"

Here to our amazement Birch smacked his knee and burst into a roar of laughter. This was more than I could stand. "Confound you," I said, "what on earth are you laughing at?"

"At the idea of your asking me what persuasion he was a minister of.

It's as good as a play."

"How so? I don't see anything funny in it."

"Don't you? Well, then, I do," returned Birch. "In the first place, my old friend Collon, and you, Mr. Leversidge, it gives you both away pretty thoroughly. You told me just now that you knew the man and wanted to help him. All I can say is, that if you do you know precious little about him. Why, gentlemen, I tell you that that parson was as tough a bird as any I've met. He may or may not be a labourer in the vineyard, but all I _can_ say is that, if he _is_, he's got the finest command of bad language for a minister that ever I've heard, and I can do a bit that way myself. The day after he landed here, one of my Kanaka boys spilt some hot soup on his hand at table, and he rounded on him and gave him the most infernal cursing ever I heard in all my born days. I tell you it made the whole table sit up like one man. If he talks to his congregation like that, it's no wonder they sent him home for a sea voyage."

Leversidge and I looked at each other, you may be sure, on hearing this.

"Well, if you can tell us nothing more, I'm afraid it's no use our waiting on in the island. There's a mail-boat at anchor now. I think the best thing we can do, Mr. Leversidge, would be to board her and set off for Brisbane, _en route_ to Sydney, as quickly as we can go."

"I agree with you," answered my companion. "Good-day, Mr. Birch, and thank you for your courtesy."

"Don't mention that, I beg, sir," returned the affable Birch. "I only wish I could do more to help you in your search for your friend."

I shook hands with him in my turn, and was following Leversidge towards the verandah steps, when Birch called me back. Sinking his voice he said, "What is it, d.i.c.k, my lad? What's your little game? Why do you want this swearing parson so badly?"

"A matter of business," I answered; "a mere matter of business."

Birch smiled knowingly, and winked at me. "A Hatton Garden bit of business, I suppose," he said. "You surely don't think I failed to recognise your friend, did you? Now, shall I do you a good turn?"

"By all means," I replied. "I'd do you one if I could."

"Well, then, take this on board with you, and think it over at your leisure. The day the parson left us he came to me alone in my room yonder and offered me----"

"Offered you what?" I said, forgetting that I might be overheard.

"One of the finest black pearls I ever saw or heard of," he answered.

"He wanted me to buy it, but I refused, so he had to take it away with him to his poor wife in Sydney. There, what do you think of that?"

"Thank you, John," I said, warmly shaking him by the hand. "You've told me just what I wanted to know. Good-bye."

On the way down the hill I informed Leversidge of what I had been told.

He stopped in the dust and looked at me. "Good," he said, wagging his head sagaciously. "That removes all doubt as to whether he was the man who stole the pearls."

"And it also proves without a shadow of a doubt that he was the demon who cut your agent's throat. My Reverend Colway-Brown, there is a day of retribution saving up for you, or I'm very much mistaken."

"But what do you think of it all?"

"What do I think? Why, I think his reverence must have been a little off his head when he offered Birch that pearl. It's by slips like that that they give themselves away. Now here's the boat; let's board her and continue the chase."

CHAPTER X

Within an hour and a half of our setting foot ash.o.r.e in Thursday Island from the schooner, we were on board the mail-boat _en route_ for Brisbane and the South. It was a glorious evening, and the beauty of the scenery as one approaches and enters the famous Albany Pa.s.s is, I am prepared to say, second to none in the maritime world. I am afraid, however, on this particular occasion our thoughts were too much occupied with the chase we were engaged in, and the news we had so lately received, for us to be able to give very much attention to anything else. Our quarry had had a good week's start of us, and it was just possible in that time he might have found an opportunity of giving us the slip altogether. But he was not going to do so if I could help it.

For some reason or another, apart from the crime he had committed, I had conceived a violent hatred of the man, and I was fully determined not to let him slip through my fingers and escape to enjoy the fruits of his villainy if it could be prevented.

On reaching Cooktown, our first port of call, and a starting-point of much of the island trade, I informed Mr. Leversidge that it was my intention to go ash.o.r.e in order to make quite certain that he had not left his vessel there. The old gentleman was not feeling very well that day, and it was with the utmost reluctance that he confessed his inability to accompany me.

"But my absence is of no consequence," he was kind enough to say. "I have the most implicit confidence in you, and I am sure you will make all the necessary inquiries quite as well without me. I have only one request to make, however, and that is, that you come on board again as soon as possible, in order to let me know if you have discovered anything that is likely to be of use to us. You can imagine how impatient I shall be to hear your news."

"I won't be an instant longer than I can help," I answered. "As soon as I have made the necessary inquiries, I'll return."

Then bidding him good-bye, I made my way ash.o.r.e and up the one long and dusty street which const.i.tutes the business portion of Cooktown. The first thing to be done was to visit the office of the steamship company's agent to endeavour to find out whether they could tell me anything concerning the Reverend Colway-Brown. This, it appeared, the agent was quite unable to do. He had seen the gentleman in question on board the vessel, he told me, but beyond having congratulated him on his marvellous escape, he had no further conversation with him. Somewhat disappointed at the meagreness of his information, I left him, and went on up the street, intending to make inquiries at an hotel kept by an old diving acquaintance, who, I felt sure, would have made it his business to see the man in question had he come ash.o.r.e.

Reaching the house, I entered it, to find my old mate sitting behind the bar, reading a sporting article from the _Australasian_ to a man who was lounging on a bench near the door smoking a cigar.

On seeing me, he sprang to his feet, and, seizing my hand, shook it until I began to think he was never going to let it go again.

"d.i.c.k Collon, by all that's glorious!" he cried. "Well, who'd have thought of seeing you down here again! I was told you had given up these waters altogether. What brings you to Cooktown?"

"Can't you see?" I answered. "Don't I look as if I needed a change of air?"

"Change of air be hanged!" he replied, with a laugh. "You never needed such a thing in your life. Is there any one with you?"

"Only an old chap from England," I said; "I am showing him the beauties of Australia."

"What's his name?"

"Leversidge," I replied. "He's a little under the weather to-day, or I'd have brought him along with me. He's out here looking for a man--the chap, in fact, who escaped from the _Monarch of Macedonia_, the Reverend Colway-Brown."

"The deuce he is! And can't he find him?"

"He hasn't done so yet. It was to discover if you could tell us whether he came ash.o.r.e here that brought me up to see you."

"I'm sorry I can't help you, old man; but what does he want to see him about? That's, of course, if it isn't private business."

"He wants to find out what the parson can tell him about a friend who went down in the boat from which he was so lucky as to escape--that's all."

"Well, I'm only sorry I can't help you," he said, but with a little hesitation that I did not fail to notice. "And now tell me more about yourself. Remember, it's ages since last we met."

We chatted for a while together about old days. Then the man who had been smoking near the door joined us in a drink, and after a little more talk about horse-racing and things in general I said I must be getting back to my boat. On hearing that I intended walking towards the harbour, the bookmaker-looking party, who had thrust himself upon us, decided to accompany me, and while we were upon the way was so good as to offer to show me, for a consideration, a number of excellent means of making a fortune upon the Australian turf. To his mortification, however, we parted, without my deciding to avail myself of his a.s.sistance.

Upon my informing Mr. Leversidge, when I reached his cabin, of the success I had met with, we unitedly came to the conclusion that our man had not left the boat in Cooktown, as we had thought possible, but must have continued his voyage in her towards a more southern port. On hearing, however, that our departure would be delayed for at least a couple of hours, I determined to go ash.o.r.e again for another stroll.

Eventually I found myself once more in my old mate's house. He received me with great hilarity, and it soon became evident that during my absence he had been sampling his own wares to considerable purpose. The bar was crowded, and when I entered it was plain that he had been retailing some good jest, for the laughter that followed was long and uproarious.