flushed and eyes unnaturally bright. “If he won Bessy from me, I should kill him. I was afraid of you once, but that’s passed now.”
“But, my dear boy,” said Dutch, laying his hand on his shoulder, “you must expect your sister to form an attachment some day.”
“Yes, some day,” said the young man. “Some day; but let her wait till I’m gone. I couldn’t bear to have her taken from me now. She is everything to me.”
“My dear Studwick, don’t talk like that.”
“Why not?” he replied with a strange look. “Do you think I don’t know? I shall only live about six months: nothing will save me.”
“Nonsense, man! That sea trip will set you right again. Come, let’s get back into the drawing-room.”
He led the way back, and, seeking his opportunity, whispered to Bessy Studwick that her brother was low-spirited, and taking her from the Cuban’s side, he made John Studwick happy by bringing her to him.
The Cuban’s eyes flashed, and he arose and crossed the room, so that when Dutch looked in that direction it was to see that he whispered something to Hester, who glanced across at him where he was standing by Bessy.
The next minute he was seized by Mr Parkley, who backed him up into a corner, where he seized one particular button on the young man’s breast – a habit he had, going to the same particular button as a small pig seeks the same single spot when in search of nutriment.
“Dutch,” said Mr Parkley, as soon as they were alone, and while he was busily trying with his left hand to screw the button off, “Dutch, shake hands.”
The young man did so wonderingly.
“That’s right: no one’s looking. That chap’s going to sing another song, and little Hester’s getting ready the music. See here, Dutch, you won’t be offended at what I say?”
“Offended? Absurd!”
“Old, tried, staunch friend, you know. Wouldn’t say a word to hurt you, and I love that little girl of yours like a father – just as if she was my own flesh and blood.”
“And I’m sure Hester loves and respects you, Mr Parkley.”
“Yes, yes, of course; and that’s what makes me so wild about it.”
“I don’t understand you, Mr Parkley,” said Dutch, uneasily.
“There, that’s what I was afraid of when I spoke. But I must say it now, Pugh. I’m afraid I made a mistake in asking you to invite that Cuban hero. I’ll tell him to come and stay with me.”
“Indeed, I beg you will do no such thing, Mr Parkley,” said Dutch hotly, as his face burned with mortification. “I understand what you mean, sir, and can assure you that your suspicions are unjust.”
“I’m very glad to hear you say so, Pugh, I am indeed,” said Mr Parkley earnestly. “Don’t be angry with me, my dear boy. I’m getting old – stupid, I suppose. There, don’t take any more notice of what I said.”
Under these circumstances it was hard work for Dutch Pugh to preserve an unclouded face before his guests, but he strove hard – the harder that he was annoyed at people for having the same fancies as those he had tried so hard to banish. It was, then, with no small feeling of pleasure that he welcomed the time when his guests departed, but even then he was not to be spared a fresh wound, for on taking Bessy Studwick down to the fly she said to him in a low voice:
“Dutch, I have been trying so hard to-night to love your wife. I do so hope you will be very happy.”
“Thank you, Bessy, thank you,” he said warmly. “I’m sure you wish me well.”
“I do, I do, indeed,” she whispered earnestly, “and therefore I say I do not like your new friend, that foreign gentleman. He is treacherous: I am sure he is. Good-night.”
“Good-night!” said Dutch to himself as he stood on the gravel path with the gate in his hand listening to the departed wheels; and then in spite of his determination the flood of evil fancies came rolling back, sweeping all before it.
“They all see it, and think me blind,” he groaned as he literally reeled against the gate. “Those thoughts, then, were a warning – one I would not heed. Hester – Hester – my love,” he moaned as he pressed his hands to his forehead. “Oh, my God, that it should come to this!”
He stood leaning against the gate post for a few minutes in a stunned, dazed way, but recovering himself he clenched his hands and exclaimed through his teeth:
“I will not believe it. She could not be no false.”
He strode in, apparently quite calm, to find Hester standing by the fire-place, looking very scared and pale, while Lauré, who had thrown himself back upon the couch, began to laugh in a peculiar way.
“Ah, you English husbands,” he said, banteringly, “how you do forsake your beautiful wives. But there, the fair visitor was very sweet and gracious. I almost fell in love myself.”
Dutch Pugh’s eyes flashed for a moment, but he said nothing, only glanced at his wife, who met his look in a troubled way, and then let her eyes fall to the carpet, while Lauré went on talking in a playful, bantering manner.
Story 1-Chapter VII.
More Shadows
From that night a complete change seemed to have come upon the home of Dutch Pugh. He had more than once determined upon putting an end to the Cuban’s stay, feeling at the same time as if he would like to end his life; but reason told him that his were, after all, but suspicions, and that perhaps they were unjust. Under the circumstances, he sought for relief in work, and strove night and day to perfect the arrangements which now fast approached completion. Captain Studwick was to be in command of the large yacht-like schooner that had been secured, and was being carefully fitted with the necessaries in stores and machinery. Two of the divers engaged in raising the copper had volunteered to go, and a capital crew had been selected. The cabins were comfortably furnished, there being plenty of space, and places were set apart for the captain’s son and daughter, while a gentleman friend – a naturalist – had, on learning from Captain Studwick the part of the world to which the ship was to sail, petitioned hard, and obtained permission to go.
This last gentleman said his object was to collect specimens of the wonderful birds of Central America; but the probabilities are that if he had not been aware that Bessy Studwick was to be of the party, he, being a very bad sailor, would have stayed at home.
By degrees everything necessary was put on board the handsome vessel, and though the ship’s destination was kept a secret, and the real object of her mission confided to few, she formed the general topic of conversation in the port, and plenty of exaggerations flew about.
The energetic way in which Dutch worked served to lull to a certain extent the sense of pain that he endured; but he suffered bitterly; and at last it had come to this: that he spent as little of his time at home as possible, returning there, however, at night faint and weary, but with a heart sickness that drove away the needful sleep.
It afforded him some gratification, though, to find that Miss Studwick often called at his home; and when, on more than one occasion, she came with her brother to the office, he read in her eyes the deep sympathy that she felt for him, and asked
