Shifting Winds by Robert Michael Ballantyne (some good books to read TXT) 📕

is not lady-like," replied Kenneth, holding up the back of the letter for inspection. "It is a gentleman's hand, you see."

"Ladies sometimes write what I may call a masculine hand," observed the captain.

"You are quite right, Captain Bowels," said Miss Peppy; "some write all angles and some all rounds. One never knows how one is to expect one's correspondents to write. Not that I have many, but one of them writes square, a most extraordinary hand, and quite illegible. Most people seem to be proud of not being able to write, except schoolboys and girls. There is no accounting for the surprising things that are scratched on paper with a pen and called writing. But in a world of things of that sort what is one to expect? It is just like all the rest, and I have given up thinking about it altogether. I hope _you_ have, Captain Bowels?"

"Not quite, but very nearly," replied the gallant captain.

"Dinner at last," said Colonel Crusty, as the gong sounded its hideous though welcome alarm. "Captain Bowels, will you take my daughter? Miss Stuart, allow me. Sorry we've got no one for _you_, Mr Stuart."

Kenneth fancied there was a touch of irony in the last observation, but he did not feel jealous, for two reasons--first, he knew, (from Miss Peppy), that the captain was no favourite with Colonel Crusty, and was only tolerated because of having been introduced by an intimate friend and old school companion of the former; and, second, being already in love with another, he did not wish to have the honour of handing Bella down to dinner at all.

During dinner Miss Peppy reminded Kenneth that he had promised to go to the Sailors' Home that evening with the parcel which Mrs Gaff wished to be delivered to her cousin George Dollins. Bella remarked, in a sweet voice, that Sir Kenneth's promises were not to be relied on, and that it would be wiser to transfer the trust to Captain Bowels, a proposal which the gallant captain received with a laugh and a _sotto voce_ remark to Bella that his fidelity to promises depended on the youth and beauty of the lady to whom they were made.

Soon after the ladies retired Kenneth rose, and, apologising for leaving the table so early, set forth on his mission.

The night was calm and pleasant, but dark--a few stars alone rendering the darkness visible. Kenneth had to pass through the garden of the colonel's house before reaching the road that led to the heart of the town where the Sailors' Home was situated. He felt sad that evening, unusually so, and wandered in the grounds for some time in a meditative mood.

There was a bower at the extremity of the garden to which, during the few days of his visit, he had frequently repaired with the volatile Bella. He entered it now, and sat down. Presently there was a rustle among the leaves behind him, and a light hand was laid on his shoulder.

"Faithless man!" said Bella in a tremulous voice, "I have been expecting you for half-an-hour at least. My portmanteau is packed, and I only await the word from you, dearest Charles--"

"Charles!" exclaimed Kenneth, starting up.

Bella uttered a suppressed scream.

"Oh! Mr Stuart, you won't tell my father? I mistook you for capt--."

"Hold, Miss Crusty; do not speak hastily. I know nothing of that of which you seem desirous that I should not speak. Pray be calm."

"Of course I know that you don't know," cried Bella passionately, "but you are capable of guessing, and--and--"

The poor girl burst into a flood of tears, and rushed from the bower, leaving Kenneth in a most unenviable state of perplexity.

The words that she had uttered, coupled with what he had seen of the intimacy subsisting between her and Captain Bowels, and the fact that the name of the captain was Charles, were quite sufficient to convince him that an immediate elopement was intended. He entertained a strong dislike to the captain, and therefore somewhat hastily concluded that he was a villain. Impressed with this conviction, his first impulse was to return to the house, and warn the colonel of his daughter's danger; but then he felt that he might be mistaken, and that, instead of doing good, he might lay himself open to severe rebuke for interfering in matters with which he had nothing to do. After vacillating therefore, a few minutes, he at last made up his mind first to execute his errand to the cousin of Mrs Gaff, and then consider what should next be done. He resolved on this course all the more readily that he was sure the mistake Bella had made would frustrate the elopement, at least on that night.

Kenneth carried the parcel, which Mrs Gaff had put up with so much care and anxiety, under his arm, and a thick stick in his right hand. He was so passionately fond of the sea and all connected with it, that he liked to dress in semi-sailor costume, and mingle with seamen. Consequently he went out on this occasion clad in a rough pea-jacket and a sailor's cap. He looked more like a respectable skipper or first-mate than a country gentleman.

Passing rapidly through the streets of Athenbury, he soon reached the docks, where he made inquiry for the Sailors' Home. He found it in a retired street, near the principal wharf.

A group of seamen were collected round the door, smoking their pipes and spinning yarns. The glare of a street-lamp shone full upon them, enabling Kenneth to observe their faces. He went up to one, and asked if a sailor of the name of Dollins was in the Home at the time.

The man said Dollins had been there that day, but he was not within at the present time. He was usually to be found at the tavern of the "Two Bottles."

Kenneth being directed to the "Two Bottles," made his way thither without delay.

It was a low public-house in one of the dirtiest localities of the town,--a place to which seamen were usually tempted when they came off a voyage, and where they were soon fleeced of all their hardly-earned money. Sounds of dancing, fiddling, and drinking were heard to issue from the doorway as Kenneth approached, and, as he descended the stair, he could not help wondering that any man should prefer such a place of entertainment to the comfortable, clean, and respectable Home he had just left.

He was met by the landlord, a large, powerful, and somewhat jovial man, whose countenance betrayed the fact that he indulged freely in his own beverages.

"Is there a sailor here of the name of Dollins?" inquired Kenneth.

The landlord surveyed the questioner with a look of suspicion. Being apparently satisfied that he might be trusted, he replied that Dollins was not in the house at that moment, but he was expected in a few minutes. Meanwhile he advised that the visitor should wait and enjoy himself over "a pot o' beer, or a glass o' brandy and water, 'ot."

Kenneth said he would wait, and for this purpose entered one of the numerous drinking-stalls, and ordered a pot of porter, which he had no intention whatever of drinking.

Seated in the dirty stall of that disreputable public-house, he leaned his head on his hand, and began to meditate how he should act in regard to Bella Crusty on his return to the colonel's house.

His meditations were interrupted by the entrance of three men into the adjoining stall. Two of them belonged to the class of men who are styled roughs; one being red-haired, the other bearded; the third was a gentlemanly sort of man, about forty years of age, with a dissipated aspect.

They did not observe Kenneth, who had placed himself in the darkest corner of his stall.

"Now, lads, we'll talk it over here, and settle what's to be done; for whatever we do it must be done to-night."

This much he heard of the conversation, and then his mind wandered away to its former channel. How long he might have meditated is uncertain, but he was suddenly aroused by the sound of his own name.

"We'll have to do it to-night," said a voice which Kenneth knew belonged to the gentlemanly man of dissipated aspect; "the young fellow won't likely go back for a day or two, and the old 'un an't over stout. There's only one man in the house besides him, and he ain't much worth speakin' of; a groom, not very big, sleeps in the lower part o' the house. Old Stuart himself sleeps in a wing, a good bit off from the servants. In fact, there's nothing easier than to get into the house, and there's no end of silver plate. Now, what say you to start by the nine o'clock train to-night? We'll get there by eleven, and have supper before goin' to work. You see, I think it's always well to feed before goin' at this sort o' thing. It don't pay on an empty stomach. Shall we go?"

Kenneth's heart beat fast as he listened for the reply.

"Wall, I doan't much loik it," said one of the roughs, in a coarse Yorkshire dialect; "but I'm hard oop for tin, so I says Yes."

"Agreed," said the other rough, who was evidently not a man of many words.

For some time Kenneth sat listening to the plans of the burglars, and considering how he should best frustrate their designs. He at length made up his mind to return the parcel to his aunt, say that unexpected and pressing business called him home, and start by the same train with the burglars for Wreckumoft. His intentions, however, were interfered with by the abrupt entrance of Dollins, who was drunk, and who, on being told that a friend wanted to see him within, came forward to Kenneth, and asked, "Wot it wos 'e wanted?"

Kenneth explained that he had been sent by a lady to deliver a parcel, which he presented, and, having fulfilled his mission, was about to return when the man caught him by the sleeve--

"Wot, are you Mister Stuart? Jess Gaff wrote me a letter a day or two ago, tellin' me you and yer aunt, Miss Peppy, as they calls her, wos a-comin' here, and would send me a parcel."

"Never mind, my good fellow, who I am," said Kenneth sharply; "I've delivered the parcel, so now I'll bid ye good-night."

"It's just him!" said one of the burglars in a hoarse whisper, as Kenneth reached the door. The latter could not avoid turning round at this.

"Yes," he cried sternly; "and I'll spoil your game for you to-night."

"Will you?" shouted the gentlemanly house-breaker, as Kenneth sprang into the street, closely followed by the three men.

Kenneth regretted deeply that he had so hastily uttered the threat, for it showed that he knew all, and set the men upon their guard.

He looked over his shoulder, and observed that they had stopped as if to consult, so he pushed on, and, soon reaching one of the principal thoroughfares, walked at a more leisurely pace. As he went along he was deeply perplexed as to what course he ought to pursue, and