My father noticed my agitation as I asked, "Father, is anything amiss with her? Don't tell me she is ill!"

"No, no, my boy, calm yourself, she is well enough, but----"

"Oh, go on, father, pray do! I can bear whatever you have to say about her except that she has been untrue to me. If she has, I will find the man who has stolen her affection, and----"

"Peace! peace, my son! and listen to me quietly. I believe she is as true a girl as ever lived; but why did you not answer her letters? Twice she wrote to you, but not a line did she receive in reply."

"Letters! I know nothing of any letters from her; all I have received was the solitary letter from you. But tell me what has happened? Why do you look so grave? Tell me, father, and end my suspense."

"Well, as near as I can tell you, Harry, it is this. When you landed on the island it was to be for twelve months only, but at the end of that time I wrote to you stating that young Johnson would wager one hundred pounds that you would be so sick of your exile, that you would not stay another six months on the island upon any consideration. I wrote you, and you accepted the wager, and I find that during the past six months he has been paying his addresses to Priscilla, who----"

"What!" I broke in wildly, "trying to alienate the affections of my betrothed, while he dangled a paltry one hundred pounds before my eyes so as to keep the coast clear, while he laid siege to _my_ love. Let me catch sight of the villain, and he shall rue the day he trespa.s.sed on my rights. But what does Priscilla say to his protestations of love; surely she does not give him countenance?"

"My boy, you are too hasty," said my father, patting me soothingly on the shoulder; "listen patiently and hear all I have to say, then you can draw your own conclusions.

"Priscilla I know has not given him encouragement, but has returned several presents that he has sent her; but what mortifies her so, is that you have not even deigned to send her a line through all her time of temptation, although she has written twice to you. Johnson's uncle has a large estate in Florida, and being an old man, wants him to go out and help him to manage it. Johnson has consented to go West, and only this week made an offer of marriage to Priscilla asking her to accompany him to Florida as his wife."

"Yes, father, go on."

"Well, I have not much more to say," he resumed; "I know not Priscilla's answer, but this I do know, that if your love for her has changed, she might do worse than accept your rival; but I trust such is not the case."

I could scarcely speak for rage and vexation, to think I had been so befooled by this fellow, and to have given Priscilla cause to think my love for her could possibly change. I would go to her at once. But my father bade me sit down and collect myself, and calmly talk the matter over with him.

"Leave this affair to me, my boy, and join your mother and friend."

I did so, but with an awful feeling of doubt at my heart. In half an hour my father entered the room, and rea.s.sured me with a quiet smile and nod, which was of great comfort to me.

Another half hour went by, and then a rustling at the door made me tremble with antic.i.p.ation and doubt, for something told me it was Priscilla. The handle turned, and as I held out both my hands to greet her, for it was she, she bounded forward with a cry of joy, and fell fainting into my arms.

Here was a _denoument_. I gently laid her inanimate form on the couch, and was immediately hustled out of the room by the combined force of my mother and our old domestic, Ellen, and not allowed to return for a time, which to my fevered mind seemed an age, but which the clock p.r.o.nounced to be twenty minutes only.

This time Priscilla came coyly to my arms, and I then knew all was well between us, especially when she turned me round with,

"Dear old Harry! come to the light, you great brown giant, and look me in the face. Ah!" said she, as Alec obligingly held up the lamp that she might get a full view of me, "I can read truth in those bonny brown eyes, but you are a cruel fellow, or why did you not answer my letters?

You bad boy!"

"Sit down, Priscilla," and I quietly took her hands in mine, and drew her down beside me on the couch.

"Now, Miss Fortune Teller! what letters do you refer to?"

"Two that I sent you, one in June and the other only five weeks since, at the beginning of August."

"Believe me, Priscilla, I have never received them, and did not know of your writing to me till my father informed me of it, but an hour since.

Where did you write them?"

"Here, Harry, in this very room."

"And who posted them, did you do so yourself?"

"No, your father posted the first, and Ellen the other."

"No," interposed my father, "I recollect young Johnson called in directly you left, and seeing the letter in my hand, said he was going up to the village, and would post it for me, so I gave it to him."

Just then Ellen entered with gla.s.ses and decanters, and it suddenly struck me to interrogate her on the subject.

"Ellen, do you remember posting a letter to me, about a month ago, that Miss Grant gave you?"

"Yes, sir, very well; at least I went half way to the post, when Mr.

Walter Johnson overtook me on his bay horse, and stopped me to ask how Miss Grant was, and seeing the letter in my hand, he offered to drop it in the box for me as he rode by the post office. So as it was such a wet day I let him take it. Did I do wrong?"

"Well, I don't quite know, but never mind, it saved you a drag in the wet, anyhow."

The maid left the room, and then I gave it as my opinion that Walter Johnson _had never posted the letters_, and that to-morrow I would interview him on the subject.

Alec was like a fish out of water at all this "high-bobaree," as he called it; but we now quieted down and spent a very happy evening together, with one or two neighbours, who having heard of my return, called in to pay their compliments.

That night I tossed and turned about feverishly, as my home-coming experience had been so strange, that I could do nothing but think and dream of it.

Walter Johnson was ever before me, and the more I thought of him and his underhand behaviour, the more I seemed to hate him, till at last I felt in quite a frenzy against him. I vowed to myself that in the morning I would see him, and if I could force him to confess his dastardly behaviour in not posting the letters to me, and in making love covertly to my affianced bride, I would thrash him soundly. My only fear was that I should do him some permanent bodily injury if he sneered at me, or in any way tried to ignore my right to put certain questions to him.

Towards morning my plans of vengeance were arrested by slumber, of which I was greatly in need.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Decorative chapter heading]

CHAPTER XXI.

THE "HAPPY RETURN" INSPECTED--MORE OF MY FATHER'S GHOST--UNPACKING THE TREASURE--SEEK AN INTERVIEW WITH WALTER JOHNSON--TWO LETTERS.

At eight I arose refreshed and looked out of the window, and saw Alec and my father walking down to the "Happy Return," so I slipped on my clothes and ran down to them.

Father was amazed to think we had made the voyage in such a craft, and said, "All's well that ends well, my lad; but if you had been caught in a squall in the Channel, with a deeply laden boat like this, what do you think would have become of her crew?"

Then I explained how we had hugged first the French coast and then the English, going into port when we wanted; and how we had been favoured with fair winds and fine weather, which just pleased the old fellow. If anyone wanted an attentive listener let him broach the subject of ships and the sea, and he would at once have my dad as a most appreciative hearer. Shipwrecks and disasters at sea on the East Coast are, unfortunately, of only too frequent occurrence, and a large volume might be written of the daring deeds that have been performed in connection with them, which have come under my own observation.

By the way, I promised my readers to say more of the vision of my father, which appeared to me in Jethou. Now that I was home I had the opportunity of telling him of this extraordinary occurrence. He was naturally surprised at what I told him, and could only account for it in one way. But let me briefly tell the reader what really occurred to him.

He had been to Yarmouth as usual to business, and in the evening was driving home when, in rounding a sharp turn, his trap was carelessly run into by another vehicle driven by a lad. My father was thrown out, falling upon the shaft of his own trap on his left side. As he was lying in an insensible condition in the roadway, the horse, in trying to rise, fell upon or kicked him in the thigh, breaking his leg. He was conveyed home, and a doctor sent for, who, in a short time, brought him to his senses. Upon examination it was found that his thigh-bone and a rib on his left side were broken. While preparations were being made to set these bones my father conversed eagerly about the nature of his hurts, asking the doctor if they were likely to prove fatal, etc. The doctor told him "No, not necessarily, but he must keep his mind quiet and not worry." Then he told the doctor about me, as it was for my sake he cared most, and it was at this time, viz., half-past eight p.m., that I saw the vision of my father sitting in my room at Jethou. The mysterious appearance was in some way connected with his _will_, but how it was all brought about I must leave to the Psychical Society to fathom.[8]

About ten in the morning Miss Grant came, and then I proposed that with father's a.s.sistance we should get out the whole of the cargo and store it in the spare room. I would not hear of his offer of a couple of men to help, as I wanted n.o.body but ourselves to know of what our cargo consisted.

Slowly the various cases, bales, and packages were transported across the greensward and safely housed, the heavy iron chest bringing up the rear. This took the united strength of four of us to carry, and when we had put it in the room, I locked the door and proceeded to show my spoil.

First I exhibited the curiosities which we had dredged up, a few stuffed fish and birds, my sketches, curious stones, sh.e.l.ls, and seaweed, etc.

These were duly admired. Then I brought out the old weapons, and undid the bundles of garments, but being rather musty the effect upon my onlookers was not great; in fact, my mother gave it as her opinion that they (the costumes) might breed a fever or some foreign disease, and should be buried or burnt. To this I could not consent however till I had had a little more time to look them over and make drawings of them; not that I ever intended setting up as a theatrical costumier, but I have a great love for anything old, which my friends tell me will ultimately become chronic, so that I shall have to be watched when visiting museums and kindred places, for fear of the development of kleptomania.