Madge had laid her head down on the grimy table, and was weeping bitterly. “Then it is true,” she said, in a whisper—“Dandy Chater is dead!”
“Steady, my lass!” said the Captain, laying his rough hand lightly on her shoulder—“Don’t give way; for there’s summink I’ve got to tell you.”
She raised her head, and looked full into his eyes. Kindly eyes they were, and they smiled at her sympathetically.
“A long while ago, my lass, there was a cruel wrong done—a bright lad cut out of ’is ’ome, an’ all that should ’ave bin ’is, an’ cast adrift, many miles across the sea, without a name—an’ with the brand of ’Bastard’ upon ’im. That lad was my pal Phil Chater; an’ ’e was the twin brother of Dandy Chater.”
Again the words singing in her ears—“The one living—the other dead!”
“Think on it, my lass,” went on the Captain gently. “The one boy—an’ ’im the youngest—brought up in luxury, an’ with powdered lacqueys for to wait on ’im at every turn; the other—an’ ’im the eldest—sent miles across the sea, an’ roughin’ it like any common child. Lost in the bush, ’e was—pitched about from one place to another—’omeless, friendless, without a compass. But—an’ mark you this, my lass—if ever a boy steered ’isself straight by the stars o’ God, that boy Phil did. An’ when at last ’e comes ’ome, with no thought in ’is ’eart of anythink but a ’earty greetin’ for ’is brother, an’ a share-and-share alike business with that brother—an’ finds ’im dead—wot do ’e do? I put it to you, Miss—wot do my pal Phil do?”
She looked at him, with a brighter face, and slowly shook her head.
“My pal Phil finds as that brother of ’is loved a young gel—(an’ I don’t need look far, for to find that young gel to-night!)—an’ was loved by ’er. Phil is took for the real Dandy by that young gel—an’ ’e loves ’er! Bein’ afeard that, if she knowed the truth, she would cast ’im off, ’e takes ’is brother’s place—’is brother’s sins—dips ’is clean ’ands, so to speak, in the blood that guilty brother shed—an’ all—mark you this, my lass—all for love of that young gel. An’, for love of ’er—the Judge will cry ‘Death!’ on Phil Chater to-morrer!”
The Captain, in his honest excitement and admiration, had risen to his feet, and waved one arm above his head. Madge had risen, too, with almost equal excitement.
“There was one man as could ’ave saved ’im—a man of the name of Ogledon——”