Annie o' the Banks o' Dee Part 30

"But, my charming little stowaway, who on earth are you, and how did you come here?"

"Oh," she answered, "I am Matty. I just runned away, and I'se goin'

south with you to see poor Regie Grahame. That's all, you know."

"Well, well, well!" said Neaves wonderingly. "A stranger thing than this surely never happened on board the saucy _Vulcan_, from the day she first was launched!" Then he took Matty by the hand, and laughing in spite of himself, gave her into the charge of his wife. "We can't turn back," he explained; "that would be unlucky. She must go with us."

"Of course," said Matty, nodding her wise wee head. "You mustn't go back."

And so it was settled. But Matty became the suns.h.i.+ne and life of all on board. Even the detective caught the infection, and the somewhat solemn-looking and important policeman as well. All were in love with Matty in less than a week. If Neaves was master of the _Vulcan_, Matty was mistress.

Well, when that ominous whistle was heard in the bay of Flower Island, although utterly shaken and demoralised for a time, Reginald soon recovered. Poor Oscar, the Newfoundland, had laid his great head on his master's knees and was gazing up wonderingly but pityingly into his face.

"Oh, Queen Bertha," said Reginald sadly, as he placed a hand on the dog's great head, "will--will you keep my faithful friend till all is over?"

"That I shall, and willingly. Nothing shall ever come over him; and mind," she said, "I feel certain you will return to bring him away."

Next morning broke sunny and delightful. All the earth in the valley was carpeted with flowers; the trees were in their glory. Reginald alone was unhappy. At eight o'clock, guided by two natives, the detectives and policemen were seen fording the river, on their way to the palace. Reginald had already said good-bye to the Queen and his beautiful brown-eyed dog.

"Be good, dear boy, and love your mistress. I will come back again in spirit if not in body. Good-bye, my pet, good-bye."

Then he and d.i.c.kson went quietly down to meet the police. The detective stopped and said "Good-morning" in a kindly, sympathetic tone.

"Good-morning," said Reginald sadly. "I am your prisoner."

The policeman now pulled out the handcuffs. The detective held up his hand.

"If you, Grahame," he said, "will a.s.sure me on your oath that you will make no attempt to escape or to commit suicide, you shall have freedom on board--no irons, no chains."

The prisoner held up his hand, and turned his eyes heavenwards.

"As G.o.d is my last Judge, sir," he said, "I swear before Him I shall give you not the slightest trouble. I know my fate, and can now face it."

"Amen," said the detective. "And now we shall go on board."

Reginald took one last longing, lingering look back at the palace; the Queen was there, and waved him farewell; then, though the tears were silently coursing down his cheeks, he strode on bravely by d.i.c.kson's side.

Arrived on board, to his intense surprise, Matty was the first to greet him. She fairly rushed into his arms, and he kissed her over and over again. Then she told him all her own little story.

Now the men came off with their boxes, and d.i.c.kson with his traps. The _Vulcan_ stayed not two hours altogether after all were on board. Steam was got up, and away she headed back once more for 'Frisco, under full steam. I think that Reginald was happier now than he had been for months. The bitterness of death seemed to be already past, and all he longed for was rest, even should that rest be in the grave. Moreover, he was to all intents and purposes on parole. Though he took his meals in his own cabin, and though a sentry was placed at the door every night, he was permitted to walk the deck by day, and go wherever he liked, and even to play with Matty.

"I cannot believe that the poor young fellow is guilty of the terrible crime laid to his charge," said Mrs Neaves to her husband one day.

"Nor I either, my dear; but we must go by the evidence against him, and I do not believe he has the slightest chance of life."

"Terrible!"

Yet Mrs Neaves talked kindly to him for all that when she met him on the quarter-deck; but she never alluded to the dark cloud that hung so threateningly over his life. The more she talked to him, the more she believed in his innocence, and the more she liked him, although she tried hard not to.

Matty was Reginald's almost constant companion, and many an otherwise lonely hour she helped to cheer and shorten.

He had another companion, however--his Bible. All hope for this world had fled, and he endeavoured now to make his peace with the G.o.d whom he had so often offended and sinned against.

Captain d.i.c.kson and he often sat together amids.h.i.+ps or on the quarter-deck, and the good skipper of the unfortunate _Wolverine_ used to talk about all they should do together when the cloud dissolved into thin air, and Reginald was once more free.

"But, ah, d.i.c.kson," said the prisoner, "that cloud will not dissolve.

It is closed aboard of me now, but it will come lower and lower, and then--it will burst, and I shall be no more. No, no, dear friend, I appreciate the kindness of your motives in trying to cheer me, but my hopes of happiness are now centred in the Far Beyond."

If a man in his terrible position could ever be said to experience pleasure at all, Reginald did when the four honest sailors came to see him, as they never failed to do, daily. Theirs was heart-felt pity.

Their remarks might have been a little rough, but they were kindly meant, and the consolation they tried to give was from the heart.

"How is it with you by this time?" McGregor said one day. "You mustn't mope, ye know."

"Dear Mac," replied Reginald, "there is no change, except that the voyage will soon be at an end, just as my voyage of life will."

"Now, sir, I won't have that at all. Me and my mates here have made up our minds, and we believe you ain't guilty at all, and that they dursn't string you up on the evidence that will go before the jury."

"I fear not death, anyhow, Mac. Indeed, I am not sure that I might not say with Job of old, 'I prefer strangling rather than life.'"

"Keep up your p.e.c.k.e.r, sir; never say die; and don't you think about it.

We'll come and see you to-morrow again. Adoo."

Yes, the voyage was coming to a close, and a very uneventful one it had been. When the mountains of California at last hove in sight, and Skipper Neaves informed Reginald that they would get in to-morrow night, he was rather pleased than otherwise. But Matty was now in deepest grief. This strange child clung around his neck and cried at the thoughts of it.

"Oh, I shall miss you, I shall miss you!" she said. "And you can't take poor Matty with you?"

And now, to console her, he was obliged to tell her what might have been called a white lie, for which he hoped to be forgiven.

"But Matty must not mourn; we shall meet again," he said. "And perhaps I may take Matty with me on a long cruise, and we shall see the Queen of the Isle of Flowers once more, and you and dear Oscar, your beautiful Newfoundland, shall play together, and romp just as in the happy days of yore. Won't it be delightful, dear?"

Matty smiled through her tears, only drawing closer to Reginald's breast as she did.

"Poor dear doggy Oscar?" she said. "He will miss you so much?"

"Yes, darling; his wistful, half-wondering glance I never can forget.

He seemed to refuse to believe that I could possibly leave him, and the glance of love and sorrow in the depths of his soft brown eyes I shall remember as long as I live."

The first to come on board when the vessel got in was Mr Hall himself and Ilda. The girl was changed in features, somewhat thinner, paler, and infinitely more sad-looking. But with loving abandon she threw herself into Reginald's arms and wept.

"Oh, dear," she cried, "how sadly it has all ended!" Then she brightened up a little. "We--that is, father and I--are going to Italy for the winter, and I may get well, and we may meet again. G.o.d in Heaven bless you, Reginald!"