BATAVIA—A STRANGE MEETING.
When I realized that the Kanaka boy, Rhotoma Jimmy, was really dead, the shock the discovery gave me may be better imagined than described. I was the last person, I told myself, to take a fellow-creature's life without adequate reason, and if it came to that, I had only struck the man in purest self-defence. Indeed, had I not closed with him, he would undoubtedly have murdered me. It was fortunate, I thought, that the Albino had come on deck in time to witness the conclusion of the affair.
Ordering the body to be taken forrard, I stumped the deck for nearly an hour, endeavouring to make the Albino see how it had happened. His manner struck me as odd; but I was too agitated to attach much importance to that. Among other things, also, I questioned him about the future; I told him that I did not like being so much in his debt, and finally asked him to take the schooner in lieu of payment. He hesitated for a while, and then requested a day or two to think it over. But during the evening he returned to the subject, and stated that he had decided to do what I asked. Thereupon we drew up the necessary documents, and when I had signed them the Mother of Pearl was no longer my property. Little did I see how artfully my ruin had been contrived.
Next morning we were abreast the Java coast; Madura on our starboard bow, Sourabaya away to port. From the latter place to Tanjong Priok, as the seaport of Batavia is called, is but a short run, and the Mother of Pearl, with everything in her favour, was not long in accomplishing it.
As if an omen of the disastrous events which were to befall me during my stay in Java, we sighted the breakwater on a wet, miserable, depressing afternoon. Our moorings were on the left hand of the harbour, just abaft a Dutch man-o'-war, and almost opposite the Custom House. The view was about as cheerless as the day; the soup-coloured sea, slimy wharves, gaunt, wind-tossed trees, made up a picture that was suggestive of cholera, Yellow Jack, and a multiplicity of unknown horrors. There was nothing to detain us on board, so as soon as the necessary formalities had been complied with, Juanita, the Albino, and I went ashore, intent upon visiting the city before we settled our plans for the future.
From the railway-station we drove to the Hôtel des Indes. It was the first time I had been in Java, but the Albino seemed to be familiar with every part of it. It was in keeping with his strange character that he should be thoroughly at home in all the out-of-the-way places of the world. When I said as much to him, he laughed, and gave utterance to one of his odd remarks, to the effect that "Strange dogs must know strange kennels."
In the evening, as soon as dinner was over, Juanita and I passed from the hotel gardens into the broad street which runs alongside the canal. Though the rain had ceased, and it was a perfect night, hardly a soul was abroad. At intervals mysterious watchmen emerged from their shelters to look at us, but finding nothing suspicious in our behaviour, retired into them again. With these few exceptions we had the streets to ourselves. The great round moon, sailing serenely overhead through a cloudless sky, the tropic foliage, lights flashing amid the trees, all combined to produce a scene that was almost fairy-like in its exquisite loveliness. And after the cooping up of shipboard we were both in the mood to appreciate its beauty. Up one road and down another we passed, conversing quietly, until at length we found ourselves upon the King's Plain.
Here I prepared myself to broach the subject of our future. To my surprise, Juanita received my ideas with a peculiar air of fretfulness that on looking back upon now I can easily account for. At the time, however, I remember it caused me a considerable amount of pain.
Under a small tope of trees she stopped, and placing her hand on my arm, said in answer to a speech of mine—
"You are quite right. I fear this is the end of everything for us. When we leave Batavia our ways must lie in different directions."
"You mean," I continued, "because you believe your husband to be still alive?"
She hesitated before replying.
"Yes," she finally answered. But there was something in her voice that made me believe that though she gave it that reason, it was not exactly what was in her mind.
"And what will you do now, Juanita?"
"Endeavour to find that man, and repay him for his treachery. That's what I shall do."
Simple as were her words, I cannot express on paper anything like the ferocity of the tone in which they were uttered. But this mood only lasted a few seconds. Then came the old wail.
"Oh, Jack, Jack! if you only knew; if we could but be our true selves for one little moment!"
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind, you will know soon enough, and, oh, how you will hate me for it! But now,—oh, I cannot, Jack,—I cannot!"
Here she fell to crying, just as she had done on the schooner. It was an exact repetition of her strange behaviour on that eventful night. I did my best to comfort her, and after a long while succeeded. She dried her tears, and we set off upon our homeward walk. Not satisfied with what she had told me, I determined to renew the subject on the morrow.
But the morrow had something of its own in store for me, of which I could not have even the vaguest idea.
When we returned to the hotel, the Albino was smoking in the verandah. After a few commonplaces about the beauty of the night, I went into my room to procure a cigar, leaving Juanita alone with him. As soon as I had obtained a weed and lit it I rejoined them. Through no fault of mine they did not perceive me until I was close upon them. Macklin held a paper in his hand, from which I presumed he had just been reading. Juanita was evidently much put out about something.
"No, no, it's too cruel," she said, "I cannot do it."
To which he replied—
"I tell you, you must. It's all arranged, so don't let me hear any more nonsense about it."
When I coughed to warn them of my presence, both seemed considerably disturbed, though the Albino passed it off with his customary ease.
After they retired to their rooms, I remained in the verandah smoking. Suddenly my eye caught sight of something white upon the ground. Picking it up, I discovered it to be a cablegram from London. It was addressed to Macklin, and ran as follows:—
"Still unclaimed. Come at once. Don't delay."
The signature was a name I had never heard before.
On my way to my room I called in upon him to restore the document, explaining where I had found it. He thanked me civilly enough, and that was the last of the matter for the time.
Breakfast over next morning, I settled myself in an easy-chair beside Juanita in the verandah, and lit a cigar. The Albino was not to be seen, nor had I set eyes on him up to that time. Juanita's behaviour, generally rather strange, was now altogether peculiar. She seemed afraid to look me in the face, and I was in the act of asking her to tell me what was the matter, when she suddenly turned pale, and rising, retired hurriedly into her own apartment. As she disappeared I chanced to look round. A party of Malay police under a Dutch officer were approaching me. The officer held a sheet of paper in his hand. This when he reached my chair he presented, at the same time saying in broken English—
"Ess it you are Jan Ram-say? De captain Mother Pearl sheep?"
Replying to the effect that I was the man he sought, I asked his business, whereupon he said—
"You are arrest, Mynheer, for murder!"
I give you my word I was so astonished you could have knocked me down with a feather. That the warrant, for so I conjectured the paper he held in his hand to be, was for my arrest on a charge of causing the death of the Kanaka Rhotoma Jimmy, I had no doubt; but who could have supplied the information that produced it? How bitterly I blamed myself for delaying to report the matter to the consul! Now it would probably be a matter of some hours before I could free myself.
Seeing that the officer desired me to accompany him, I called Juanita to me, and I shall never forget the look upon her face when she came into the verandah. The officer bowed politely to her.
"Juanita," I said, "I am arrested for the murder of that Kanaka boy. It's only a matter of form, but it will necessitate my leaving you for an hour or so. Tell Macklin what has happened, and ask him to come at once to our consul, that's a good girl."
Thereupon I surrendered myself to the officer, who, to my supreme annoyance, insisted on handcuffing me like a common malefactor. Then the Malay policemen, wretched little fellows but little bigger than monkeys, ranking themselves on either side, and the officer taking the lead, off we set for the lock-up. Here I was detained for nearly an hour, in company with a collection of the vagabond riff-raff of the town, at the end of which time I was handcuffed again, and marched off to the office of the English consul.
On arrival there I was thrust into a small room and allowed to cool my heels for ten minutes or so. After that I was led into a spacious chamber, partaking more of the nature of an office than a court of justice, and placed in what was equivalent to the dock.
An elderly gentleman of dignified appearance, whom I rightly judged to be the consul, sat at a large desk at the further end of the room, busily writing in a book before him. A couple of clerks were ranged at desks hard by, and two or three native policemen lounged near the door. Presently the consul looked up, and intimated that the case should commence.
I was thereupon charged with having wilfully and maliciously caused the death of a native known as Rhotoma Jimmy, aboard the schooner Mother of Pearl while on a voyage from Vanua Lava to Batavia. Witnesses were called, and, to my delight, the first person to appear was none other than John Macklin. His face when he looked towards me was filled with the deepest concern, and he gave his evidence with well-simulated reluctance.
He deposed to being the owner of the schooner, and therefore my employer; also to having been witness to the whole affray on the night in question. I had, he was extremely sorry to say, always betrayed an intense and unreasoning dislike to the dead man, and for this, on more than one occasion, he had been compelled to remonstrate with me. On the night of the murder I had pulled the man away from the wheel after making some complaint about his steering, and without warning struck him a heavy blow with a belaying-pin on the side of his head, thus undoubtedly causing his death.
I could hardly believe my ears. Was it possible that a man, confessedly my friend, could so unblushingly swear a fellow-creature's life away? When he went on to say, that with the exception of this one single instance, I had always borne an excellent character, and that he himself was much attached to me, I could have throttled him where he stood, and gone willingly to the gallows for it.
The next witness was the mate. At least, if he had not seen the affair, he would be able to clear my character of the charge of ill-will against the dead man. But, to my continued horror, he corroborated all the Albino had said, at the same time throwing in some artistic touches of his own, which did not mend matters. When he had done me all the harm he could—God alone knows for what reason—he stepped down, and the next witness was called. Then who should enter the room but Juanita! My heart leapt for joy. She at least would be true to me, and by her help I might be able to give my enemies the lie. As I looked at her noble figure, and noted the proud flash of her eyes as she glanced round the court, I could have laughed them all to scorn. But my feeling of confidence was of short duration.
To the first question as to whether she had seen my assault on the man, she falteringly answered "Yes." Then my heart became heavy as lead; I knew I was ruined and done for. What she told the court further I never heard. When she had given her evidence, she left the room on the Albino's arm weeping bitterly, and I knew I was the victim of as vile a conspiracy as ever was hatched to promote a man's ruin.
Having heard all the witnesses, the consul asked me if I had anything to say. The only chance I could see of saving myself was to request that the crew might be examined, and to this he consented, adjourning the case for that purpose until next day. Disregarding any thought of applying for bail, I allowed myself to be marched away again, not to the lock-up this time, but to the Dutch prison itself, a great rambling barrack of a place on the other side of the town.
Once there, I was cast into a large yard, where a meal of rice was given me. But I was too cast down and utterly miserable to eat. The more I reflected upon my situation, the worse it appeared to become. If my enemies intended thus to swear away my life, goodness only knew what the end would be! The reason for it was what puzzled me. I could make neither head nor tail of it. But though I could not fathom the Albino's motive, I began to see the reason of Juanita's strange behaviour the previous night, and the vague hints she had thrown out that evening alongside the island. Could it be possible that all the time she was in collusion with the Albino? This notion I discarded at once. What most affected me was that they were in league now.
For hours I sat thus brooding over my unhappy fate. At last, unable to bear it any longer, and to distract my thoughts, I turned to examine my companions, and the place in which I was confined. I found myself in a large quadrangle about fifty yards long by thirty wide, bounded on either side by rows of cells, and having at either end high walls of rough masonry, each surmounted with a bristling cheval de frise. As far as I could gather, the prisoners confined in that portion of the gaol might have numbered a hundred, and were for the most part Malays and Chinamen, with a sprinkling of Europeans. As soon as they became aware of my presence they crowded round me, gesticulating, and criticising my woe-begone appearance. Among them I noticed one whom I knew at once for an Englishman. In spite of his rags and filth he was the handsomest man I had ever seen; but it was a wild reckless sort of beauty for all that. He came over to me, and placing his hand on my shoulder, said—
"You're an Englishman, I can see. Now, how the deuce do you come here?"
I told him I was accused of murdering a man aboard the ship of which I was skipper, and that my life was being sworn away—
He laughed and went on—
"My boy, I pity you if you once get into this place. Look at me, I've been in here over six months; put away for resenting an insult from a Dutch officer; not allowed to communicate with my consul, and told to hold my jaw directly I ask for justice. I tell you you're in luck's way if you even get brought to trial. The consul will ship you off to Singapore by the next mail, while I'll have to rot here till I can pass the word to some one outside to make inquiries. That's their notion of civilization in this God-forsaken country."
At that moment a bell clanged, and the crowd began to scurry into their cells for the night. I found that my new friend and I were located with about fourteen others in the same dormitory. On inspection it proved to be a large bare room, ill-lighted, ill-kept, and, like all other parts of the prison, villainously dirty. The beds such as they were, were strewn about on the floor, just wherever their owners cared to place them, and each one had a new and complicated odour of its own. As soon as we had entered, the door was shut, and we knew that we might consider ourselves locked up for the night.
One thing struck me. I could not help noticing the respect with which my companion was regarded by his fellow-prisoners. His word seemed to rule as law, and no sooner did he express a wish than it was, if it lay within their power, immediately gratified. Thus when he asked that we might be left alone, the rest of the prisoners migrated to the other end of the room, and we were free to continue our conversation uninterrupted.
"Now let's have your story," he said, seating himself on the pile of blankets by my side. "You can't think what a pleasure it is to me to have an Englishman to talk to! You say you're the victim of a conspiracy; tell me all about it from the beginning to the end. Who knows but that I may be able to throw some new light upon the subject."
Beginning at the very commencement, I told him everything, only suppressing Juanita's name. He listened with the utmost attention, and his interest seemed to increase as the story developed. When I had finished, he said—
"By Jove! I begin to think I do see a glimmering of reason in it after all. But it's a strange enough affair, if you like. Now first tell me what sort of man this dwarf is, who proved himself your friend by lending you the money to buy the schooner, and your enemy, by misrepresenting your connection with that nigger."
"Well, among other things, he was an Albino."
He jumped up like a shot.
"An Albino and a dwarf? Great snakes! What was his name?"
So taken aback was I by his excitement, that for the instant I could only stare at him. He seemed more affected by my story than if he had undergone it all himself.
"Quickly," he said, "what is the name of this dwarf, this Albino?"
"John Macklin," I answered promptly, and when he heard it he began to pace the room, like a man labouring under some extraordinary emotion.
For a few minutes he occupied himself in this fashion. Then, in the middle of one of his peregrinations, he stopped short, and asked me another question.
"And the woman, what was she like? Was she tall and dark, foreign in appearance, with a suspicion of a moustache, and a little mole on the lobe of her left ear?"
I nodded, wonderstruck. He smiled a pitying sort of smile.
"Perhaps her name was Juanita?"
Again I nodded.
"She hailed from South America?"
I said I believed so.
"Well, all things considered, I reckon this bit of business fairly licks creation."
This he said more to himself than to me.
"Anybody would think you knew these people," I remarked, chock-full of astonishment.
"Know them? Well, if I haven't cause enough to know them, there's not a man knocking round this old universe who has! But their cheek beats cock-fighting. Mark my words, it'll be diamond cut diamond between them now."
"You're getting out of my depth. What the deuce do you mean?"
"Never you mind just now. Tell me one thing more. When the Albino found the money for you to purchase the schooner, did he say that he knew Juanita?"
"I should think not. On the other hand, he sternly forbade my even letting her know of his existence."
"Ah! that throws another light upon affairs. They were playing lone hands after all. He's just 'Old Nick' himself, is John Macklin, and she's pretty near as bad. Now, when you left Thursday Island, am I right in surmising that you steered a straight course for the Banks Group?"
"I don't know how you guessed it, but we did."
"And you brought up off Vanua Lava, maybe?"
"That's so. You've hit it again."
"You went ashore to a grave about a hundred yards inland, under a tope of trees, and alongside a high bank, to look for a locket round a dead man's neck?"
The excitement was growing intense. Hardly able to trust myself to speak, I fell back on nodding.
"Then you opened the grave and discovered a coffin?"
"Yes."
"And you found in it?"
"Nothing more nor less than a sheet of lead."
"Ho, ho! I can imagine their disappointment. And then the Albino put in an appearance?"
"He did."
"At his suggestion you set sail for Batavia?"
"Yes; but why Batavia? Only tell me that, and I'll say you've got the tow-rope of the whole mystery."
"Why, to me it's the simplest part of it. Look here, can't you see this? The woman, for some reason, had staked all she'd got on finding that locket buried with the dead man. That's it, isn't it? Well, the Albino was a stranger on Thursday, and was not known to do any work. That being so, why was he there? People don't live on Thursday for pleasure, or the good of their healths, I reckon?"
I made a negative sign, and he continued—
"Why, you chuckle-head, can't you see he was there because he was watching some one? I leave it to you to figure out who that some one was."
"Juanita, I suppose."
"You suppose! Of course it was. Well, she tells you she wants money to reach a certain island for a certain purpose. You carry the news on to him. That's his dart exactly. That's just what he wanted to know. He wants that locket too. But he can only get it through her. So, under a cloak of friendship he lends you the amount to get the boat, and then clears for his natural life to the island to be ready for you."
"Yes, your theory's very pretty, but here's the corker. How did he find out the island's name? He didn't get it from me, because I didn't know it till we sailed. Somehow, that don't seem to tally."
"Why, you galoot, don't you think, long before that, he had found out where the schooner that brought the woman and her husband from Tahiti touched before reaching Thursday—where, in fact, they buried the man he wanted to catch. You bet he did."
"I never thought of that."
"Perhaps not; but I did. He sets off, as I say, reaches the island, watches to see where the grave is, and what success she meets with when she opens it; and then, when he finds out how he's been tricked, saddles himself upon you in order to watch the woman further. She faints directly she sees him, proving as clear as daylight that not only has she met him before, but that she has good cause to be frightened of him. By Jove! I can imagine the shock to their systems when they discovered that the man whom they both believed to be dead was in reality alive—that he'd hoodwinked them after all."
He threw back his head and laughed.
"And what then?" I asked.
"Why, don't you see, the treasure they're after is slipping through their fingers. The man has six months start of them. Directly they arrive in Batavia, the Albino sends a cablegram to England. He receives a reply. What was it?"
"'Still unclaimed. Come at once. Don't delay,'" I answered, reciting the words on the form I had picked up in the verandah of the Hôtel des Indes.
"And what significance has that for you?"
"I can't say, unless it affects the treasure."
"You've drawn your bead on the bull's-eye this time, sure enough. That's exactly what it does affect. It affects it like grim death. Don't you see—the other man hasn't got home yet. So they've still a chance for the money. Now they know they've just got to get up and clear for all they're worth to London. What then?"
"It's no use; I'm done for, clean stumped! After that, I can't make head or tail of it."
"Why, they argue in this way. They can't take the woman's lover with them, can they? He'd not only be in the way, but he'd probably want to go shares in the boodle. The woman is too suspicious to let the Albino go alone, so, as the man has served his purpose, he must be got rid of. But how? 'Ah!' says the Albino, 'I've got it! The murder of the Kanaka; that'll fit him like a glove!' Therefore this charge was trumped up to detain you here. D'you know. I should be more than a little surprised if they are not already gone."
"In that case, what will become of me?"
"That remains to be seen. I fancy to-morrow will set it right. But I suppose you understand now how you've been bilked?"
"Worse luck! But there's one thing puzzles me more than all the rest, and that is, how the deuce you come to know all this so accurately."
"My boy, if I gave you a hundred guesses you'd never hit it."
"Well then, I give it up, first time."
"And yet, I reckon, it's as clear as daylight. Who should you call the most important person in the whole affair?"
"Why, the chap who caused it all—the man who led them such a dance—the man who died."
"You mean the man who, by rights, ought to have been where the sheet of lead was, in that coffin?"
"I do."
"Well, that's how I came to know about it."
I jumped to my feet, and all the other occupants of the room, hearing my exclamation of surprise, turned round to look at me.
"What the devil do you mean?"
"Why, can't you guess? Because, sonny, I'm that man. I'm the man who led them such a dance. I'm the man who ought to have been dead and buried in that coffin. In fact, I'm Marcos Veneda!"