BRITISH MYSTERIES - Fergus Hume Collection: 21 Thriller Novels in One Volume. Fergus Hume

about yours.”

      “Well, suppose you marry Doña Eulalia?”

      “What, have you found me a spouse already?” cried Cassim, sitting up, with a ringing laugh. “And who, is Doña Eulalia?”

      “The cousin of Dolores, and the daughter of Don Miguel.”

      “Is she as beautiful as her cousin? But there, I needn’t ask that. Of course, in your eyes, no one is so perfect as Dolores. Well, I will consider the matter when I see Eulalia. It is too important a step to take without due consideration.”

      “What nonsense you talk, Philip.”

      “Why shouldn’t I talk nonsense? Between you and me, Jack, I grow weary at times of very sensible people. We won’t discuss how that remark applies to you. Tell me how many more members there are of the Maraquando family.”

      “Only a son, Don Rafael.”

      “And what does the young hidalgo?”

      “He is in the Cholacacan navy. A very jolly young fellow of twenty-five. We are great friends. Then there is a Doña Serafina.”

      “Another beauty?”

      “According to her own idea, very much so,” replied Jack, dryly. “She is the old man’s sister, and acts as duenna to Dolores and Eulalia.”

      “Ah, an old maid. Good! We will marry her to Peter, and they can collect butterflies together.”

      “Oh, Doña Serafina would marry anyone; but why to Peter?”

      “I don’t know. Peter looks as if he needed a wife; so, as he won’t choose one for himself, I must do so for him. Oh,” yawned Philip, rising reluctantly to his feet, “what a pleasant talk we have had. I suppose it’s time we returned to the boat? Come, John, I’ll race you to the road.”

      Nothing loth, Jack accepted the challenge at once, and, though Philip ran like a deer, succeeded in beating him easily.

      “Whew!” gasped Cassim, leaning breathless against a fence which verged on the high-road. “You’re one too many for me, Jack. I thought I was a good runner, but you can beat me.”

      “You’re out of training. Too much flesh. Too soft muscles.”

      “Well, I’ll soon right all that at Cholacaca, when we run from the enemy. Constant life on a yacht isn’t a good thing to develop a fellow’s running powers.”

      They jumped lightly over the fence, and walked soberly towards Yarmouth in the gathering dusk. The sun was setting, and there was a glory over sea and land somewhat tempered by the twilight. The friends strolled comfortably along, still talking. Indeed, since their meeting they had done little else but talk, more especially Philip, who was not like the same man. His reserve seemed to have melted away like dew before the sun of Duval’s geniality, and he was more like the merry boy of old than the haughty, distrustful man of the present. The reason of this lay in the fact that he felt he could thoroughly trust Jack, and it was a great comfort to him that there was at least one man in the world to whom he could open his heart unreservedly. Secretly, he was much astonished at the pleasure he found in this friendship, and by no means displeased, for while in Jack’s company the world seemed a goodly place in which to dwell. Yet Duval was decidedly a commonplace young man, smart enough at his business, yet by no means distinguished for intellectuality; withal, so warm-hearted and simple-natured, that Philip surrendered himself entirely to the influence of this pleasant friendship.

      “You are doing me no end of good, Jack,” he said as they walked through the town. “Before you came, I was gradually becoming a fossil; now I am renewing my youth.”

      “I am very glad to hear it,” replied Jack simply. “But indeed, Philip, so far as I can see, you seem to be as jolly as a sandboy.”

      “I wasn’t a week ago. It’s the sunshine of your happy geniality, Jack. I will stay with you until the cure is complete. Then I will see you safely married to Dolores; present you with the opal stone, as a dowry, and then——”

      “And then!” repeated Jack, as his friend paused.

      “Then I will take up the old discontented life again.”

      “I won’t let you do that,” said Duval, slipping his arm within that of Philip’s. “No. I will cure you, as you say, and then you will marry Eulalia.”

      “Humph! That’s doubtful.”

      “I’m not so sure about that, mi amigo. Meanwhile, I’m hungry, so let us go on board and have dinner.”

      “Oh, bathos,” laughed Philip, but offered no opposition to so sensible a suggestion.

      They sat up late that night talking of many things, but principally about Dolores and Tlatonac. Jack gave his friend a vivid description of the Cholacacan capital, and of the life therein, all of which was highly appreciated by Philip. The baronet’s taste in existence, as in literature, leaned towards the dreamy and fantastical, so the languorous life of Spanish America in sleepy towns, amid the dilapidated pomp of former splendours, appealed greatly to the imaginative side of his nature. Hitherto his visits to these out-of-the-way places had been limited to a few days ashore, while his yacht was anchored in the harbour; but this time he determined to take Jack for his guide, and live the life of these strange people. It was a dream of the Orient in a new world. The Arabian Nights in the west.

      Next morning they were up early in order to greet Tim, who duly arrived in a state of great excitement. He was delighted to be once more on the war-path, especially as he was to go through the campaign in the company of his old school-fellows. The business of putting his luggage on board took but little time, as Tim did not believe in special correspondents travelling with much impedimenta.

      “You could have brought more luggage, if you had liked,” said Philip, when they inspected Tim’s modest kit.

      “More! Haven’t I got all I want,” retorted Tim, indignantly. “What would I be stuffing up the boat with rags for. A tooth-brush and a clean collar is all I require.”

      “Hardly, if this is going to be a lengthy campaign,” replied Philip, dryly. “I expect, before the end of the voyage, you’ll be wearing Peter’s clothes.”

      Peter was so small, and Tim so large, that the idea struck the latter as wonderfully ludicrous, and he sat down to laugh which he continued to do until the screw began to beat the water. Then he went on deck to superintend the departure.

      In due time they arrived at Plymouth without accident, where they found Peter waiting with as much luggage as a bride would take on her honeymoon. It proved to be mostly articles for capturing butterflies, and cases for preserving them much to the disgust of Philip, who hated his yacht to be overloaded with such débris. With that painful candour which prevailed between them, he told Peter that he would only take half; but the meek doctor waxed indignant, and refused to go without all these, what he called, “necessaries.” So, in the end, Philip had to give in.

      Then The Bohemian turned her prow westward, and dipping her nose in the salt brine, followed in the track of Columbus.

Chapter IV.

       In the Track of Columbus

       Table of Contents

      Spread sails, out oars, the galley’s beak

       Points westward where the sunset dies.

       The fabled land of gold we seek,

       Which glows beneath the tropic skies,—

       A jewelled land of Paradise;

       The waters round our prow are curled,

       White foam bells streak their turquoise blue,

       We leave behind the ancient world,