Chapter Nine.
I was too much absorbed by grief at the death of Sir Charles to ask Captain and Mrs Northcote any questions during that day as to the misfortune to which he had alluded; but during the night the matter several times occurred to me, and next morning I could no longer restrain the curiosity I naturally felt to learn the truth. I ought to say that Sir Charles had some time before begged them to come and stay with him; and when he became dangerously ill, they had remained to nurse him. Captain Northcote had gone out to make arrangements about the funeral, and I therefore asked Mrs Northcote to give me the information I required. Tears came into her eyes as she spoke.
“It must be told, so that it is better now than later,” she observed. “You have heard that Major Clayton was unwell, and that a voyage was recommended to him. At that time an uncle of his, a merchant, residing at Macao, was seized with a severe illness. His uncle having sent for him, he resolved to take a voyage to that place, in the hopes of being of use to his relative, and at the same time of benefiting his own health. We saw him as he was on the point of embarking, when he appeared so much debilitated that I even then feared that he could not recover. Poor Mrs Clayton, too, could not bear the thought of parting from your sweet little sister, who, it was resolved, should accompany them. They sailed in an English ship, which was to touch at Singapore, and from thence to proceed direct to Macao. The voyage did Major Clayton some good; and in a letter I received from his wife, at the former place, she said that she entertained great hopes of his recovery. However, I regret to say that, by the accounts received by the next ship which sailed from Macao after their arrival, my worst forebodings were fulfilled—Major Clayton had gradually sunk, and a few days after his uncle had breathed his last, he also died, leaving his poor wife and your little sister to return home without any relative, or any friend on whom they had claims, to protect them.”
“What!” I exclaimed, bursting into tears I could not restrain, “is Major Clayton dead? Then do tell me where are dear Mrs Clayton and my own darling little Eva. I will fly to them immediately.”
Mrs Northcote shook her head, and looked more grave than before, as she replied, “You must, indeed, be prepared for a very sad history. I cannot tell you where your sister and your friend are. You shall hear. On the death of her husband, it was natural to suppose that Mrs Clayton would wish to return to England; but it was absolutely necessary that she should first visit India, where her property had been left, with arrangements made only for a short absence. No ship was, however, sailing direct to Calcutta at that time; and as she was anxious to leave Macao at once, she secured accommodation on board a small fast-sailing brig, bound to Singapore, whence she hoped to find the means of reaching India. A few days only, therefore, after her husband’s death, she sailed, carrying with her a considerable amount of property, which had been left to him by his uncle, and which was now his. Thus much we have heard from the merchants at Macao; but I regret to say, that no accounts have been received of the arrival of the brig at Singapore, and serious fears are entertained that some misfortune has happened to her. Either she has been wrecked, or has been run away with by her crew, or has been attacked and carried off or destroyed by pirates. The latter conjecture is but too probable, as, from her small size, those marauders of the sea are likely, if they have fallen in with her, to have been tempted to capture her.”
“I must go and find them,” I exclaimed, jumping up as if I would start off immediately. “It is too dreadful to think of, to suppose that those dear ones should be in the power of such ruffians. But why do you talk of their being carried off by pirates? Is it not just as likely that the brig may have been wrecked?”
“I wish that I could say so; for then we might hope to discover them on one of the thousand islands of that thickly-studded sea,” was her answer. “At first we hoped that such might prove the case, and we half expected to hear of the arrival of our friends on some Chinese junk or Malay prahu at Singapore; but accounts were afterwards received by two ships, stating that a brig, exactly answering her description, was seen steering for the Billiton passage, on the western coast of Borneo; so that either her crew must have turned pirates, or she must have been in the hands of the Malays, if the vessel seen was the one supposed. Of that, however, we can be in no way certain; indeed, the whole circumstance remains wrapped in the most painful mystery.”
“I must solve it, or perish in the attempt,” I exclaimed, jumping up, and walking about the room in a state of agitation more easily conceived than described. “I must find them—I will find them—nothing shall stop me in the search. I must consider how I can accomplish the undertaking.”