II.

In spite of what had happened, Captain Jasper Ivory, much to everybody's astonishment, remained in the roadstead. With a twelve months' interdiction against his name, all chance of getting a pit or stage before the guano was exhausted was gone. Yet the Gurango and the Florentia stopped where they were, their owner professing himself to be occupied with the purchase of cargoes in view of a rise in prices. Few people, however, were deceived, for at the same time that he carried on these very speculative transactions he was making himself conspicuous by his overtures of friendship to certain members of the committee, who after a few weeks' cajoling he so far won over as to persuade them to propose a remission of part of his sentence. But Joseph Lees and other magistrates would not hear of this, since it would have been, as the chairman said when the matter was discussed, "a fatal proof of weakness on their part, above all in the case of such a man as Ivory, who would simply take advantage of it to obtain further concessions and favours, to which—as a man who had nearly been caught in the act of crime—he was certainly not entitled." It was rumoured that Captain Jasper was extremely angry on hearing the committee's decision, but he nevertheless continued his habitual policy of outward friendliness to all men.

Early in September, shortly after the above-mentioned meeting, Joseph Lees fell ill. The symptoms of his malady were peculiar, and as they baffled the skill of no fewer than three doctors, it will be as well to enumerate them. Taking up a book one evening, just before retiring to rest, he was amazed to discover that he had suddenly become short-sighted. As his eyesight had hitherto been perfect, he attributed the phenomenon to fatigue and the glaring sun to which he had been exposed all day, and decided to forego his reading and to at once retire for the night. On awaking next morning he was relieved to find that his sight was again normal. Shortly after noon, however, the focus of his eyes again changed; then, as before, there was a return to the normal state. These intervals of shortsightedness recurred with distressing regularity for a week or ten days, at the end of which time Lees called in the doctor who had accompanied him from England. General physical debility, occasioned by living under bad conditions, was pronounced to be the root of the ill, which would quickly disappear if combated with a bottle of port, a generous allowance of nourishing victuals, and a few days' rest in purer air. Remaining on board the Elora instead of going on to the island to superintend the loading of the boats, the patient tried this treatment for a week. Far from improving, however, he rapidly became worse, much to the alarm of the doctor—a young and nervous man, as he proved himself to be by losing his head and proposing a consultation with a brother practitioner. Putting their wise heads together, the two doctors found that the supercargo's stomach was at fault, so they prescribed croton oil and a low diet. Other peculiar features of his ailment now began to make their appearance. He experienced a difficulty in breathing; at times his eyes brimmed over with tears, though he felt none of the feelings that usually accompany them. Weakness, too, set in, and after six weeks of lying on his back, he was afflicted with twitchings of the facial muscles. By this time a third doctor was in attendance. But he confessed to his colleagues that he had never seen such a peculiar case before, and argued that Lees must be suffering from some blood disease, combined with a nervous ailment, both of which, he suggested, might be endemic in that part of the world.

"Let us try mercury," he said. "I have known it effect wonderful cures. And to show that I do not disregard your remedy, which has also many virtues, we will give him occasional doses of croton oil as well."

The ignorance of these three doctors brought Lees to death's door. By the beginning of September he was reduced to such a state of weakness that he had to have assistance if he wished to leave his cabin, where he lay for hours at a time in a semi-paralyzed state. His brain, he noticed, continued its functions, but his body began to lose its sensibility to pain. At last he made up his mind to have done with his medical attendants and their physics and try a régime of his own.

"I have the most heartrending tidings to communicate," he wrote on December 5th to his son. "I am a dying man, and the chances are if I ever leave this place and reach England, though I implore God to spare me to see my family and arrange my affairs. But, notwithstanding, His will be done. I am resigned."

Feeling no longer able to direct the affairs of Ichaboe, and fearing that troubles would sooner or later once more break out, Lees communicated with the authorities at St. Helena. The result was the return of H.M.S. Thunderbolt, which brought not only a certainty that disturbers of the peace would be held in check—a great relief to the supercargo's mind—but also a first-rate ship's doctor, who was to play an important part in this history.

"We must see what Alexander Maxwell can do for you," said the captain of the man-of-war, when, half an hour after his arrival off the island, he called on the chairman of the committee. "He's one of the best doctors in the Royal Navy, without a doubt. If anyone can pull you through—and a man of your build and constitution, Lees, isn't going to be bowled over yet—he will. So as soon as I get back, I'll send him over to you."

A quarter of an hour later, Dr. Maxwell, a man of close on forty, with a broad, high forehead, was sitting by the sick man's side, feeling his pulse, questioning him as to his sensations, and learning the history of the case from its very beginning. His knitted brow and the intent manner in which he watched his patient's face showed that he was keenly interested, if not a little puzzled.

"There, now, Mr. Lees, that will do for the present, thank you," he said after a few minutes. "You mustn't fatigue yourself by too much talking. I'm going to leave you for half an hour or so. I'll bring you a bottle of something to relieve that shortsightedness—something a little pleasanter than mercury and croton oil."

And as he closed the cabin door behind him, Captain Graham, who was present at the consultation, heard him murmur: "Mercury and croton oil indeed! The dunderheads, not to think of belladonna!"

Dr. Maxwell, unlike the three incompetent medical men who had already treated the supercargo, had kept pace with scientific research, and was acquainted with the action not only of deadly-nightshade but of other less-known poisons, to one of which he knew his remedy was a counteractive. As a matter of fact, he was strongly suspicious that his patient's complaint was not due to natural causes, though as yet he could not understand how it could have its origin in artificial ones.

A few hours later Dr. Maxwell, once more by Lees' side, was in possession of one of those facts which tell so much to the scientific mind. The physiological action of belladonna, following on another agent whose effects were opposite in character, had revealed the secret.

"Exactly as I thought!" he exclaimed, when he had finished his examination of the patient. "You'll be as right as a trivet in three months or so from now. Good food and fresh air are what you want. Your case, my good sir, is one in which I can approve of Macbeth's advice to 'throw physic to the dogs.' By the by, captain," turning towards Graham, "would you kindly close the door, so that there'll be no fear of our being overheard? I should like to have a little conversation with Mr. Lees and yourself."

Wondering as to what was coming, Captain Graham did as he was asked, and drew a chair up to the side of the bunk.

"Now, Mr. Lees," began the doctor, "at the risk of fatiguing you I want all your attention for a few minutes whilst I put several very important questions to you. This is a most serious matter, and the sooner we act the better. Would you tell me, please, if you have any enemies either on board this ship or in the roadstead of Ichaboe?"

"Not a few, I imagine, in the roadstead, but on the Elora I should say certainly not," replied the supercargo, in a low voice. "My position as chairman of the committee has naturally not contributed to popularity amongst the savages of these parts, and I could name at least five or six of the guano thieves who wish I'd never come to Ichaboe, and who certainly wouldn't be sorry to see the last of me."

"Particularly Captain Ivory, eh? From what I've been told he's the sort of man who would stick at nothing. But what I should like to know is this: What motive could he have for poisoning you, and, presuming that he's the instigator of this crime, who is his accomplice?"

"I DON'T MERELY SUSPECT IT, MY DEAR SIR—I KNOW IT."

"Poisoning me, doctor?" said the sick man in astonishment, raising himself on his elbow and gazing at Maxwell with something of the old fire in his eyes. "Do you really suspect that my illness is due to a criminal hand?"

"I don't merely suspect it, my dear sir—I know it. I suspected it when I first saw you, but I'm certain now. You've been systematically poisoned for several months past, and not solely by mercury and croton oil, but by Calabar bean as well. We may, a little later, if we can get hold of some of the poison, be able to prove our statement by analysis. Meanwhile, we know we've got hold of the truth, and what we've got to do is to find out the person or persons who have had a hand in this affair."

"Then you may make up your mind, doctor, that it's Jasper who's done it," affirmed Captain Graham, emphatically. "Poison's exactly the sort o' weapon he'd use, the double-faced, smooth-tongued villain that he is."

"I grant you, captain, that he's all that, and much more besides, perhaps. But before we fix this crime upon him we've to discover first what motive he could have in committing it; and, secondly, what means he adopted."

"Not much difficulty in assignin' a motive when we recall the ambuscade and its subsequent effects," returned Graham. "Twelve months' interdict against his name; checkmated aboard his own ship, if you please, and unable, ever since that day, to get the least sympathy from our gallant chairman here, though Jasper's friends tried their hardest in committee. But you'll have to hear the whole story, doctor, 'fore you can understand right, so by your leave and Mr. Lees' I'll spin you the yarn from the beginnin'."

Captain Graham gave a rapid account of the events of the past four months, and concluded with the remark:—

"Seems to me the business fairly bristles with motives. What beats me, though, is the question of his accomplice, seein' as there ain't more than five or six of us who have entered this cabin regular-like; and I've never thought o' lookin' to find a traitor among the crew o' the Elora. I could have taken my davy there wasn't a dishonest man aboard."

"I shall be inclined to say that Ivory is guilty, if only we can find the link between him and this ship," said Maxwell at last. "You have had your meals, I understand, almost invariably alone, Mr. Lees. By whom were they prepared and served?"

"By Daniel White, the steward."

"A man—I take it from Captain Graham—who has nothing against his character?"

"Came to me two years ago with a clean score," chimed in the captain of the Elora, "and I ain't had no fault to find with 'im since. 'Honest Daniel' he's called, too, by the crew."

"He has certainly shown the greatest attention to me during my illness; has been thoughtful and obliging in the extreme," said the supercargo. "Yet it seems to me, captain," he added, after a thoughtful pause, "that my memory is still better than yours. Don't you remember the conversation we had in your cabin in July on the subject of the thefts? or is it merely the fancy of a poor brain that has had much to bear these last three months?"

"Conversation in July, in my cabin, about thefts?" repeated the captain, slowly and thoughtfully. "Well, now you mention it, I do. But I fail to see its connection."

He stopped, deep in thought, his eyes fixed on the invalid's white face. A momentary pause ensued, then, recollecting himself, he gave his thigh a mighty smack with his horny hand, and exclaimed:—

"By Jove, but I do, though! You're right, sir, you're right! What a lubber I've been to forget that Daniel White said he'd known Jasper Ivory at Bristol, an' that he claimed a knowledge o' some o' his ships! The whole thing comes back to me now. White told one o' the sailors about his changin' the names of his ships fro' time to time; and Baines, who heard the yarn, told me. Mebbe we'd better hear it again from the second mate's own lips to be certain, though it strikes me circumstances are sufficiently suspicious to warrant our clapping Daniel White into irons at once."

"They are, indeed, captain," said the doctor, in his coolest professional manner; "but, by your leave—and you are, of course, master on board your own ship—we will do nothing in a hurry. We've got to prove our case beyond dispute by obtaining possession of some of the poison, which, if we take care not to arouse suspicion, will doubtless be again administered, probably in the drinking water, since Eserine, the noxious element of Calabar bean, is tasteless in solution. Then, we mustn't forget that there are two criminals who have had a hand in this affair, and that a too hasty action on our part might result in the principal one escaping. No; let us be content for the time being to keep an eye on this pretty steward of yours. And now, Mr. Lees," turning to the sick man, who, overcome with excitement, was lying in his berth with closed eyes, "I will leave you until to-morrow in the good hands of Captain Graham."

Almost on the very day predicted by the doctor Joseph Lees was able to put his feet to the ground and sit up for two or three hours in his chair. Dr. Maxwell and Captain Graham were once more with him, talking over the events of the past week and discussing future plans. For several unexpected things had happened since the day on which it was discovered that an attempt had been made on the supercargo's life, and one of these—the disappearance of Daniel White—had completely altered their plan of campaign. The steward, who had evidently taken alarm at the doctor's repeated visits, the presence of the Thunderbolt, and the guard that was placed upon Lees' food and drink, had escaped down a rope and, unperceived by the watch until it was too late to hope to be able to put a bullet through him, had swum out to one of Ivory's ships, one of which—the Florentia, in all probability, since it was no longer in the roadstead when morning came—had taken him on board.

"Fate has certainly been against us," said the doctor, "and I'm sorry, captain, that I didn't follow your suggestion to take the fellow into custody whilst we had the chance. From the point of view of a case against Jasper Ivory, my blunder, unfortunately, has had disastrous consequences. There's a moral certainty he was the instigator of the crime, but without our hands on Daniel White's collar we cannot bring forward anything that would lead to the conviction of the captain of the Gurango. With the plea of absolute ignorance as to the very existence of this steward, he would be acquitted without a doubt."

"You're the last man in the world, doctor, who needs to reproach himself," responded Captain Graham. "You did the main thing, after all, when you arrested the assassin's hand. But for you Mr. Lees would have been takin' a longer voyage than from 'ere to the old country. And we sha'n't be long now afore we sails, thank goodness."

"The sooner you wind up your affairs and get away from the stench of Ichaboe the better for both of you," said Dr. Maxwell. "I should strongly advise you, Mr. Lees, to touch at St. Helena on your way home. The air there is particularly bracing, and a fortnight's sojourn will put new life into you. Indeed, the climate is so favourable to convalescents that some of my patients——"

The doctor's sentence was at this moment broken off short by the appearance of the second mate in the open doorway.

"Beg pardon for interrupting you, gentlemen," he said, "but Captain Ivory is here and would like to speak with Mr. Lees for a few minutes."

Before either Captain Graham or the supercargo had time to protest against his impertinent intrusion, the captain of the Gurango, with all his old assurance, had brushed past Baines and was advancing into the cabin.

"Good morning, captain; good morning, gentlemen all," he said briskly, and with a nod to each. "Very glad to see, Mr. Chairman, that you are on the high road to recovery. Mackenzie told me yesterday that you'd been making great progress lately, so I thought I'd come round and have a chat with you before you sailed, which I gather from him you'll be doing very shortly. You're a lucky man to be able to get from this wretched place—with your fortune made, I warrant, but a very unpleasant recollection, withal, of the infernal climate."

For several moments, which seemed an eternity of time, so dead was the silence, no one replied. The three men—a little taken aback at Ivory's audacity—gazed at him with frankly hostile eyes. The first to speak was Dr. Maxwell, in slowly pronounced phrases, as keen as a lancet:—

"In saying that my patient is a lucky man in being able to get away from Ichaboe, you never spoke truer words in your life, Jasper Ivory. But you are wrong if you imagine that we are such ignoramuses as to attribute his illness to what you are pleased to call the infernal climate. Infernal climate, forsooth! But I am forgetting that you are a layman, liable, now and then, to express yourself inaccurately, and, of course, totally ignorant in the matter of diseases or drugs—particularly poisons. I may tell you, therefore, that the initial cause of Mr. Lees' malady has been traced to one of the precious pack of rascals whom he had to keep in order here. I suppose a simple seaman like you has never seen any seeds like these before? I found them in the locker of Daniel White, late steward of the Elora—a man who, curiously enough, was an old friend of yours."

The doctor, as he said these words, took a number of claret-coloured seeds out of his waist-coat pocket and held them out on the palm of his hand for Captain Ivory's inspection, closely watching his face the while. But not a muscle moved; and it was with absolute control over both voice and features that Jasper replied, nonchalantly:—

"What a beautiful colour! And what may be the name of those pretty things, doctor? I rely on your superior knowledge, which appears to cover a wider field than science, since you've just made me the friend of a man of whom I've never heard in my life."

"We scientists call them the seeds of Physostigma venenosum; but they are known amongst you sailors as Calabar beans. Considering that there isn't a mariner cruising on the West Coast of Africa who doesn't know them, your education appears to have been singularly neglected. However, Daniel White will be able to complete it for you when the Gurango rejoins the Florentia, on which ship—for the time being, at any rate—he escaped from justice."

At this Captain Jasper could preserve his self-possession no longer.

"So you persist in coupling your confounded steward with me and my ships, do you?" he said, hotly. "Then let me tell you that you can talk enigmas and concoct your inventions until you are black in the face. I don't care that for them," snapping his fingers; "and I'll see you all three in Hades before you'll get another civil word from me!"

In a flash he had left them and was out on deck, where he continued to vent his anger by a torrent of oaths. Dr. Maxwell and the captain of the Elora watched him with aggravating coolness as he was being rowed away, a sullen, malicious look in his eyes. "His face was a study for a criminologist," was the doctor's pregnant comment on returning to the cabin.

Lees saw no more of Ivory before the Elora set sail for St. Helena, but he had not yet finished with that remarkable man; and so dramatic and unexpected was his next meeting with his enemy to be, that its every circumstance remained fresh in his mind to the day of his death.

A VIEW OF JAMES TOWN, ST. HELENA, AS IT APPEARED IN 1845, THE TIME OF THIS STORY.

From an Old Print.

The ill wrought on Joseph Lees' constitution was more deep seated than even so astute a man as Dr. Alexander Maxwell could foresee. After his departure from Ichaboe, which he devoutly hoped he would never set eyes on again, he had a serious relapse—so serious that, on the third day of the voyage to St. Helena, he gave up all his papers to Captain Graham, believing that he would not reach his destination alive. However, on New Year's morning, 1845, the first perspiration that he had had for nine months brought relief, and from that day progress towards recovery, though slow, was sure.

As the Elora came within sight of St. Helena, which from the sea looks like a bare and arid rock, the supercargo, who was sitting on deck in a despondent mood, found himself likening it to an immense tomb. Would it be his? Almost inclined at that moment to abandon all hope and answer in the affirmative, he fell to musing, his eyes fixed on the island. Black thoughts gave place to more cheerful ones, however, as the ship drew near to land, for its aspect gradually changed from the forbidding to the inviting. The verdure-covered mountains of the interior, their rounded summits reaching to the clouds, became more and more distinct; and though these disappeared when the Elora got within shorter range of the perpendicular rocky cliffs, the watcher had soon the great satisfaction of once more setting eyes on human habitations—the houses and buildings of James Town, crowded within the narrow ravine formed by the almost vertical sides of Rupert's Hill and Ladder Hill. His sense of joy on returning to the haunts of men and civilization became still keener when he had actually landed and was being carried through the main street of the town—a street of solidly built houses, many with stone steps and iron railings leading up to the front doors, some with bow-windows and others with verandas.

Recommended to put up at "the first house in the island," Lees was taken to the Rose and Crown, kept by Charles Fuller, an old-established resident. The letter from which I have already quoted was written from that hotel, three days after his arrival, and in it he says to his son: "I have two of the first doctors on the island, who are altering my treatment; and what effect it may have God alone knows. They are, too, for changing my residence from town to the very house and room where Napoleon lived until Longwood was made ready, and my nurse is the same person who nursed Mme. Bertrand.[6] Things are very dear here, and for all this I have to pay well; but whatever will contribute to my comfort and recovery I will have and pay for cheerfully. Thank God, I can afford it."

[6] The Mme. Bertrand here referred to was the wife of Count Henri Gratien de Bertrand, the faithful general who followed Napoleon into exile.

This nurse, Mme. MacDonald, née Valadon, had a Frenchwoman's admiration for the great captive and everything connected with him; she bitterly hated the British Government and Sir Hudson Lowe; she was fond of acrimoniously expressing her views on events long since past, and she delighted in telling her patients anecdote after anecdote from her vast store of information respecting Napoleon. Certain it is, too, that her reputation as a nurse was considerable, especially among the few French inhabitants that remained, otherwise the supercargo's doctors would never have strongly advised him, as they did, to continue to employ her when he removed from the Rose and Crown to the Briars, that little estate on which Bonaparte resided, in company with Mr. Balcombe and his family, while Longwood Old House was being prepared for his reception.

FACSIMILE OF A LETTER WRITTEN FROM ST. HELENA, IN WHICH MR. LEES MENTIONS HIS REMOVAL TO NAPOLEON'S HOUSE.

The Briars consisted—and still consists, I believe—of two houses, one called the Pavilion, where Napoleon lived, and another building to the left, both situated on a plateau at the foot of hills and buried in trees. A fine garden and grass fields adjoined, and the surrounding country was then, as now, precipitous and wildly picturesque. This beautiful little estate was some mile and a half from James Town, and access was gained to it by a road winding up the side of the rugged hill. Both houses, comfortably furnished, chancing to be let (owing to the owner's temporary absence in England) when Joseph Lees arrived in St. Helena, he rented the smaller for two months, at the end of which time, said the doctors, he ought to have sufficiently recovered his health and strength to be able to proceed home.

One bright morning about the middle of January, four sturdy "yamstalks," or inhabitants of composite origin, laboriously mounted the hillside above the town, carrying the invalid on a chaise à porteurs extemporized out of an arm-chair and a couple of poles. Nurse MacDonald walked by his side, chattering vivaciously.

"Never before or since have I heard such vivid narratives as those of Nurse MacDonald," said Joseph Lees in after years when relating his adventures. "She was certainly a very remarkable woman. But with all her cleverness, there was something about her that made me distrust her from the very beginning. She was given to falling into periods of morose silence, and on more than one occasion, during my first fortnight's residence at the Briars, she struck me as being a woman whom it would be better to have as a friend than as an enemy. In short, the longer I was acquainted with her, the more uncomfortable did I feel. At first I attributed my feelings to prejudice, to the morbid effects of my illness; but as I got to know her better, and as my bodily health rapidly returned, I had finally to confess that I could not be altogether mistaken, and that the sooner I brought my sojourn in the hills of St. Helena to an end the better it would be for my peace of mind. After events proved that I was right, and that our first impressions of a person are sometimes to be trusted."

THE BRIARS, NAPOLEON'S HOUSE AT ST. HELENA, WHERE MR. JOSEPH LEES STAYED.

From an Old Print.

The dread—and there is no other word to express the feeling—that Joseph Lees finally came to have for the Briars was first awakened by an incident that occurred there after his first month's residence. As near as possible, I will describe it in his own words.


"I shall remember the night of that incident," he would begin, "as long as I live. The impression that it made at the time appeared to be slight, but in the light of after events it became indelible. It was midnight, and I was perusing a letter which I had just written to my son in the dim light of a candle placed on a little table near my bed on which I was stretched. The captain of one of the vessels which I myself had chartered had brought me that day fresh information from Ichaboe, and, as he was to sail on the following morning, I was anxious that he should take my epistle with him. After giving certain instructions in regard to the sale of the cargo, I proceeded to speak of my health and of the renewal of the troubles on the island. 'I have now some hopes of returning home, as I am much better,' I wrote. 'We have suffered greatly by robberies of guano, even to the tune of thousands. Disturbances and battles are frequent between the soldiers and the crews, who want and will have cargo. There are yet three hundred and fifty ships in the roadstead of Ichaboe, though there are not twenty cargoes on the island, and these are all expecting to beat the authorities and take it from the owners. Three hundred men made an attack the other day, and got from the chairman's pit as many tons before the soldiers proved masters. In consequence of all these things we shall not be able to fill all the ships named in the list, and there are six more to come that will not get more than half a ——'

"I had reached this part of my letter when I broke off, my attention being attracted by the sound of voices. At first I imagined that it was Mme. MacDonald talking to herself, as she was in the habit of doing, but on listening I could distinguish another voice. A feeling of alarm suddenly came over me and impelled me to blow out the candle.

"'Who could my nurse's visitor be?' I asked myself, as I jumped off the bed and approached the long French windows that opened on to a little veranda. To find anyone calling upon her at such an hour was, to say the least, strange. Stranger still, I seemed to know the voice of the person who was talking with her, but where I had heard it before I could not for the life of me tell. There was no doubt, however, that it was that of a man, and that the language in which he was conversing was French, of which I knew sufficient to seize a phrase now and then. From the words 'arrivé aujourd'hui,' 'voyage,' 'fatigue,' I came to the conclusion that the speaker must be a sailor who had arrived at the port of James Town after a long and fatiguing voyage; and on hearing him addressed as 'mon fils,' my mind immediately began to weave a story around the mother and the son. Their relationship thus established, I felt much less alarmed than I had been at first; so I refrained from further eavesdropping and retired to rest. But, though I tried my hardest, I could not get to sleep for hours. Again and again I found myself dwelling on the question: 'Where have I heard that voice before?'

"On the following morning, much to my surprise, the visitor was nowhere to be seen. Having fully expected to meet this sailor son of hers, I expressed my regret that he had gone so early.

"'A visitor, monsieur?' she replied, with well-feigned astonishment. 'Since no one has come here during the last twenty-four hours, no one can have departed. You have been dreaming, monsieur—one of the consequences, no doubt, of your illness. I hope not a nightmare? Monsieur must not sit up so late at night. It is an imprudence when still so weak.'

"I had not been dreaming, but I did not contradict her. She evidently had reasons for concealing from me the fact that her son had paid her a nocturnal visit; and as I could conceive these reasons to be of such a nature as to warrant her little subterfuge, I decided to poke my nose no further into her affairs. What business was it of mine if she cared to receive her son in secret? Why should I trouble my head over the question as to whether she had or had not—as, indeed, she affirmed—a sailor son? Nevertheless, the old question recurred as regards the disconcerting resemblance of his voice to that of someone whom I had once met—but where I could not recall.

"The mystery, as you will soon hear, was to be unveiled three days later. I had gone to bed about ten o'clock, but, being unable to sleep, had arisen at midnight, intending to dress myself and spend a few hours over my accounts. About to strike a light, the creaking of the veranda under someone's footsteps attracted my attention and drew me to the window. Fortunate it was that I had done so before lighting the candle, for, on looking out into the darkness, I was just in time to catch sight of the dim figure of a man creeping stealthily along in the direction of the entrance to Mme. MacDonald's room. After proceeding a couple of yards or so he stopped, gave a low whistle, and at the same time so turned his head that, in the light of the moon, which up to then had been obscured, I could see his face in profile. One glance was enough. It was Jasper Ivory—the last man in the world whom I should have expected to be my nurse's son! Suddenly awakened to a sense of my danger—for I knew that this ruffian had vowed vengeance upon me, and in my weakened state I was no match for him—I sprang back into the room, huddled on my clothes with the greatest rapidity, and after stowing away my money and as many of my papers as I could get together in the dark, once more crept to the window. Ivory had disappeared into the old woman's room, whence, amidst the dead stillness of the night, came the hum of their voices. Were they plotting my destruction? I wondered.

"Having opened the long window, I noiselessly slipped out on to the veranda, turned to the left, in the opposite direction to where they were in consultation, and rapidly passed down a small flight of steps into the garden. What a relief it was to feel that I was free! I lost no time, I can tell you, in making my way as best I could to the limit of the grounds, where there was a pathway that would lead me to the main road and James Town. But before I had reached the fence that enclosed the Briars a cry from the house told me that my escape had been discovered, and somehow or other I failed to find the path I was seeking. There was nothing to be done, therefore, but to push on in the darkness at hazard. Stumbling over rocks and shrubs, my progress was exceedingly slow. My weakness, too, hindered me considerably, and I was more than once forced to stop and rest. On one of these occasions I turned round and saw that the search for me was continuing. Two lights were moving about among the shrubberies. Suddenly one of them stopped; there was a cry from the holder of the lantern—cry that I could easily recognise as coming from Ivory, and the next moment he was rapidly moving forward in my direction. He had found my track at last!

"Through the rocky, hilly country surrounding the Briars he pursued me, tenacious as a bloodhound. Owing to the fact that he had a lantern, and was thus able to avoid the obstacles which frequently impeded my progress, he covered the ground much quicker than I did. He also had an advantage in being in a perfect state of health. On the other hand, he had this against him—I was better able to follow his movements, thanks to his light, than he mine. Quick to see that I might turn this to profit, I decided, since it was inevitable he would overtake me, to lie in wait for him behind some convenient boulder, to attack him unawares, to disarm him if he carried a weapon, and then to render him harmless by methods which—as an old North-country wrestler—I felt were still within the range of my powers.

"We had reached what was evidently a little plateau on high ground. Judging this to be a suitable place for the execution of my plan, I rapidly dodged behind an agglomeration of rocks and waited for his coming. Being fifty to sixty yards in the rear, it was some time before he had completed his search of the immediate neighbourhood and could push on still farther. This gave me time to recuperate my strength. Luck, too, would have it that when he came up with me, swinging his lantern this way and that, he passed to the right of my shelter in such a way that I had but to throw out my leg to send him sprawling to the ground. As he came down with a crash, a pistol which he held in his right hand fell and exploded, while the lantern clattered among the stones and was extinguished.

"Hoping that he would be so stunned that he could offer but a slight resistance, I was upon him in an instant. Much to my surprise, however, he got to his feet in less time than it takes me to relate the fact, and, with a growl of rage, gripped me so tightly that I saw I should have the greatest difficulty in mastering him. Though a man possess all the science of all the wrestlers of Cumberland, he is a poor thing when in an indifferent state of health, and so I soon discovered.

"Locked in each other's arms, we swayed backwards and forwards in the darkness—now one, now the other, appearing to have the advantage through the accidental nature of the ground. It was a marvel that we managed to keep our feet at all amidst all those stones and ruts. At times, also, we backed against huge rocks, and whenever Ivory got me in that awkward fix he would either angrily hiss his intention to finish me off, in payment of old scores, or grind his teeth with grim satisfaction. I can almost imagine, even now, that I feel his hot breath on my neck and the grip of his powerful arms around my body.

"For a quarter of an hour my tactics were defensive. It was evident to me from the very first that the man knew nothing of wrestling, that he had merely his strength to depend upon. My object, therefore, was to let him use it up as much as possible, reserving my own force for an occasion when I could call to my aid the useful art that I had learnt in my youth. Soon, indeed, he began to show signs of flagging. So, seizing a favourable opportunity, I suddenly drew upon all my resources, had recourse to a certain 'throw' which had many times gained me the victory at Keswick, and successfully passed him over my thigh.

"Just as his feet left the ground he released his hold of me in order to be able to break his fall. And well for me was it that he did so, for as he came down, like a slaughtered ox, I heard the sound of his body slipping away from me and of stones rolling down an abyss. He gave one wild and piercing cry of terror when he dropped down, down, down into the darkness!

"For fully a minute did I stand where I was, my knees trembling under me through fear and exertion. Fearing to move a step before I had ascertained the exact position of the precipice, I at last stooped down and, by feeling my way in all directions, succeeded in creeping out of the danger-zone to a sheltered spot where I could lie down and sleep until daybreak. To have attempted to have found my way to James Town out of that wilderness of rocks would have been madness. Besides, I was thoroughly exhausted, and had no sooner stretched myself on the ground than I fell into a sound slumber.

"It was still early when I awoke, aching in every muscle. But I lost no time in making for the town, a distance of some two miles, being anxious to obtain food and drink at the Rose and Crown, and to give information to the authorities on the subject of my adventure. I felt that I had still a bone to pick with the treacherous Mme. MacDonald, and the sooner she was arrested the better.

"In the absence of the Governor of the island I was received at his town offices by his chief representative, who patiently heard my tale from beginning to end.

"'Yours is a very remarkable story, Mr. Lees; one of the most romantic I have ever heard,' he exclaimed, earnestly. 'It is all the more strange, as we've been looking for years for a man bearing somewhat the description of your Captain Ivory. I am surprised that the commander of the Thunderbolt did not spot him at Ichaboe. But I rather imagine that that officer's knowledge of the judicial affairs of St. Helena does not go back fifteen years, otherwise he would have been sure to recollect the circumstances attending the capture of one of our schooners on June 28th, 1830. The commander of the vessel in question, Captain Harrison, a certain Dr. Waddell, and several of the crew were entrapped on board a ship called the Daspegado, flying French colours, and murdered. It has always been understood that the name of the captain of the pirate was Williams, but your description of Jasper Ivory tallies so exactly with his, that I have no doubt whatever that they are one and the same man. I shall, of course, have to institute an inquiry into this affair, and above all order the immediate arrest of this Mme. Valadon, or whatever she calls herself. Meanwhile, Mr. Lees, you will have to hold yourself at the disposal of the authorities. Manslaughter, you know, is a serious thing—even though the man you have killed is a pirate. And now, seeing that this matter is finished for the present, I hope you will do me the honour of dining with me this evening. I will call for you at six o'clock at the Rose and Crown and take you with me to Plantation House.'

"HE GAVE ONE WILD AND PIERCING CRY OF TERROR WHEN HE DROPPED DOWN, DOWN, DOWN INTO THE DARKNESS."

"The pistol and lantern of Captain Jasper Ivory, alias Williams, alias MacDonald, alias Valadon, were found where they had fallen. But his body was never recovered from the 'Devil's Punch Bowl,' as the rocky and precipitous region where we had wrestled was—and is still—called. Was he killed on the spot, or did he escape miraculously? I cannot tell you. All I know is this: not a trace of either him or his precious mother could be discovered. Years afterwards, however, when I had returned to England and was enjoying the fruits of my hard eight months' work at that horrible island of Ichaboe, I heard that she was living at Havre, where she kept a lodging-house and, it was said, continued to carry on at least one branch of her son's profession—that of smuggling—in collaboration with Daniel White, one-time steward of the good ship Elora."