IN TWO CHAPTERS.—CHAPTER I.
To say that the real zest of an Englishman’s delight in England and English home-life is only attained after residence or travel in other countries, is to quote something like a truism. To this influence at least was owing in great measure the feeling of quite indescribable pleasure with which, after a not altogether successful six months of big-game hunting in the interior of Africa—a very far-away country indeed in those days, when no cable communication existed with England—I found myself on board the good ship Balbriggan Castle (Captain Trossach), as she steamed slowly out of the Cape Town Docks on a lovely June evening in 187-, homeward bound. I had come from one of the eastern ports of the colony in sole occupation of a cabin; and though I knew we had taken on board a large number of passengers that afternoon, I was not a little put out to find, on going below, that the berth above mine had been filled, and that the inestimable blessing of solitude was to be denied me for the next twenty days or so. However, there was no help for it; and with the best grace I could command, I answered my fellow-traveller’s courteous expressions of regret with a hope that the voyage would be a pleasant one. The new-comer was a tall, slightly-built, and strikingly handsome man, of about thirty, remarkable for a slow deliberative manner of speech, with which an occasional nervous movement of the features seemed oddly at variance. On a travelling-bag, as to the exact disposition of which he was especially solicitous, I caught sight of the letters P. R. in big white capitals. These being my own initials, the coincidence, though commonplace enough, furnished a topic of small-talk which sufficed to fill up the short time intervening before dinner, and ended, naturally enough, in the discovery of my new friend’s name—Paul Raynor—given, as I afterwards remembered, with some little hesitation, but producing a much finer effect of sound than my own unmelodious Peter Rodd.
At dinner, I found my place laid opposite to Raynor; and thus, notwithstanding the claims of an excellent appetite and the desire to take stock of other passengers, I had again occasion to observe the painful twitching of the fine features, recurring with increased frequency as he, too, looked round at those about him, and seemed to scan each in turn with more than ordinary deliberation. The man interested me greatly; and as I listened to his conversation with some Englishmen near, and noted the dry humour with which he hit off the peculiarities of the worthy colonists we were leaving behind, I saw at once that here at least was promise of relief to the monotony of the voyage, of which I should be constantly able to avail myself.
A sea like glass, and a temperature of unusual mildness for a June evening in those latitudes, drew every one on deck, and ensconcing myself in a pleasant corner just behind the too often violated legend, ‘No smoking abaft the companion,’ I proceeded to illuminate a mild Havana cigar, when I was joined by Raynor, with whom, after a good-humoured joke anent my unsuccessful attempt to obtain that solitude which the cabin could no longer afford, I renewed our conversation of the afternoon, passing from generalities to more personal matters, and sowing in a few hours the seeds of a friendship destined to grow and ripen with that marvellous rapidity only to be attained by the forcing process of life on board a passenger-ship.
Nothing could exceed the frankness of Raynor’s own story, as he told it me in brief before we turned in that night. One of a large family of sons, he had conceived an unconquerable dislike to the profession of teaching, to which, in lieu of one of a more lucrative nature, he had found himself compelled to turn. The suggestion of a friend, that he should try his luck in the colonies, was hardly made before it was acted upon; and a few weeks found him in an up-country town at the Cape, where his letters of introduction speedily brought him employment in a well-known and respected house of business. Here he rose rapidly; and having, by care and occasional discreet speculation, saved a few hundreds, was now on his way home, with four months’ leave of absence, professedly as a holiday trip, but really, as he admitted to me, to see what chances presented themselves of investing his small capital and procuring permanent employment in England. In answer to my question, whether his absence after so short a time of service might not conceivably affect his prospects in the firm, he replied, that his intention of remaining at home had not been communicated to any one; and that, should no suitable opening offer in England, he would, upon returning to the colony, resume his former position with Messrs ——, whose word to that effect had been given.
‘Do you know any one on board?’ said I carelessly, when his short narration was over, and after I had in turn imparted to him a few dry and unrefreshing facts as to my own humble personality.
‘Why do you ask?’
I was taken aback at the sharp, almost angry voice in which the words were uttered; but, strong in the harmless nature of my question, I replied: ‘Because I thought I saw a man at the next table to ours at dinner trying to catch your eye, as if he knew you.’
‘Daresay he did. One gets to know such an unnecessary lot of skunks in the colonies!’ Uttering these remarkable words hurriedly and in a tone of intense irritation, Paul Raynor strode away, and I saw him no more that night.