A Bid for Fortune, Guy Boothby [top 10 novels .txt] 📗

of the tiller.

As we went about between Canford Cliffs and Alum Chine, something moving in the water ahead of me attracted my attention. We were too far off to make out exactly what it might be, and it was not until five minutes later, when we were close abreast of it, that I discovered it to be a bather. The foolish fellow had ventured farther out than was prudent, had struck a strong current, and was now being washed swiftly out to sea. But for the splashing he made to show his whereabouts, I should in all probability not have seen him, and in that case his fate would have been sealed. As it was, when we came up with him he was quite exhausted.

Heaving my craft to, I leapt into the dinghy, and pulled towards him, but before I could reach the spot he had sunk. At first I thought he was gone for good and all, but in a few seconds he rose again. Then, grabbing him by the hair, I passed an arm under each of his, and dragged him unconscious into the boat. In less than three minutes we were alongside the yacht again, and with my crew's assistance I got him aboard. Fortunately a day or two before I had had the forethought to purchase some brandy for use in case of need, and my Thursday Island experiences having taught me exactly what was best to be done under such circumstances, it was not long before I had brought him back to consciousness.

In appearance he was a handsome young fellow, well set up, and possibly nineteen or twenty years of age. When I had given him a stiff nobbler of brandy to stop the chattering of his teeth, I asked him how he came to be so far from shore.

"I am considered a very good swimmer," he replied, "and often come out as far as this, but to-day I think I must have got into a strong outward current, and certainly but for your providential assistance I should never have reached home alive."

"You have had a very narrow escape," I answered, "but thank goodness you're none the worse for it. Now, what's the best thing to be done? Turn back, I suppose, and set you ashore."

"But what a lot of trouble I'm putting you to."

"Nonsense! I've nothing to do, and I count myself very fortunate in having been able to render you this small assistance. The breeze is freshening, and it won't take us any time to get back. Where do you live?"

"To the left there! That house standing back upon the cliff. I don't know how to express my gratitude."

"Just keep that till I ask you for it; and now, as we've got a twenty minutes' sail before us, the best thing for you to do would be to slip into a spare suit of my things. They'll keep you warm, and you can return them to my hotel when you get ashore."

I sang out to the boy to come aft and take the tiller, while I escorted my guest below into the little box of a cabin, and gave him a rig out. Considering I am six feet two, and he was only five feet eight, the things were a trifle large for him; but when he was dressed I couldn't help thinking what a handsome, well-built, aristocratic-looking young fellow he was. The work of fitting him out accomplished, we returned to the deck. The breeze was freshening, and the little hooker was ploughing her way through it, nose down, as if she knew that under the circumstances her best was expected of her.

"Are you a stranger in Bournemouth?" my companion asked, as I took the tiller again.

"Almost," I answered. "I've only been in England three weeks. I'm home from Australia."

"Australia! Really! Oh, I should so much like to go out there."

His voice was very soft and low, more like a girl's than a boy's, and I noticed that he had none of the mannerisms of a man--at least, not of one who has seen much of the world.

"Yes, Australia's as good a place as any other for the man who goes out there to work," I said. "But somehow you don't look to me like a chap that is used to what is called roughing it. Pardon my bluntness."

"Well, you see, I've never had much chance. My father is considered by many a very peculiar man. He has strange ideas about me, and so you see I've never been allowed to mix with other people. But I'm stronger than you'd think, and I shall be twenty in October next."

"If you don't mind telling me, what is your name?"

"I suppose there can be no harm in letting you know it. I was told if ever I met any one and they asked me, not to tell them. But since you saved my life it would be ungrateful not to let you know. I am the Marquis of Beckenham."

"Is that so? Then your father is the Duke of Glenbarth?"

"Yes. Do you know him?"

"Never set eyes on him in my life, but I heard him spoken of the other day."

I did not add that it was Mr. Matchem who, during my conversation with him, had referred to his Grace, nor did I think it well to say that he had designated him the "Mad Duke." And so the boy I had saved from drowning was the young Marquis of Beckenham. Well, I was moving in good society with a vengeance. This boy was the first nobleman I had ever clapped eyes on, though I knew the Count de Panuroff well enough in Thursday Island. But then foreign Counts, and shady ones at that, ought not to reckon, perhaps.

"But you don't mean to tell me," I said at length, "that you've got no friends? Don't you ever see any one at all?"

"No, I am not allowed to. My father thinks it better not. And as he does not wish it, of course I have nothing left but to obey. I must own, however, I should like to see the world--to go along voyage to Australia, for instance."

"But how do you put in your time? You must have a very dull life of it."

"Oh, no! You see, I have never known anything else, and then I have always the future to look forward to. As it is now, I bathe every morning, I have my yacht, I ride about the park, I have my studies, and I have a tutor who tells me wonderful stories of the world."

"Oh, your tutor has been about, has he?"

"Dear me, yes! He was a missionary in the South Sea Islands, and has seen some very stirring adventures."

"A missionary in the South Seas, eh? Perhaps I know him."

"Were you ever in those seas?"

"Why, I've spent almost all my life there."

"Were you a missionary?"

"You bet not. The missionaries and my friends don't cotton to one another."

"But they are such good men!"

"That may be. Still, as I say, we don't somehow cotton. I'd like to set my eyes upon your tutor."

"Well, you will. I think I see him on the beach now. I expect he has been wondering what has become of me. I've never been out so long before."

"Well, you're close home now, and as safe as eggs in a basket."

Another minute brought us into as shallow water as I cared to go. Accordingly, heaving to, I brought the dinghy alongside, and we got into her. Then casting off, I pulled my lord ashore. A small, clean-shaven, parsonish-looking man, with the regulation white choker, stood by the water waiting for us. As I beached the boat he came forward and said:

"My lord, we have been very anxious about you. We feared you had met with an accident."

"I have been very nearly drowned, Mr. Baxter. Had it not been for this gentleman's prompt assistance I should never have reached home again."

"You should really be more careful, my lord. I have warned you before. Your father has been nearly beside himself with anxiety about you!"

"Eh?" said I to myself. "Somehow this does not sound quite right. Anyhow, Mr. Baxter, I've seen your figure-head somewhere before--but you were not a missionary then, I'll take my affidavit."

Turning to me, my young lord held out his hand.

"You have never told me your name," he said almost reproachfully.

"Dick Hatteras," I answered, "and very much at your service."

"Mr. Hatteras, I shall never forget what you have done for me. That I am most grateful to you I hope you will believe. I know that I owe you my life."

Here the tutor's voice chipped in again, as I thought, rather impatiently. "Come, come, my lord. This delay will not do. Your father will be growing still more nervous about you. We must be getting home!"

Then they went off up the cliff path together, and I returned to my boat.

"Mr. Baxter," I said to myself again as I pulled off to the yacht, "I want to know where I've seen your face before. I've taken a sudden dislike to you. I don't trust you; and if your employer's the man they say he is, well, he won't either."

Then, having brought the dinghy alongside, I made the painter fast, clambered aboard, and we stood out of the bay once more.


CHAPTER V


MYSTERY

The following morning I was sitting in my room at the hotel idly scanning the Standard, and wondering in what way I should employ myself until the time arrived for me to board the yacht, when I heard a carriage roll up to the door. On looking out I discovered a gorgeous landau, drawn by a pair of fine thoroughbreds, and resplendent with much gilded and crested harness, standing before the steps. A footman had already opened the door, and I was at the window just in time to see a tall, soldierly man alight from it. To my astonishment, two minutes later a waiter entered my room and announced "His Grace the Duke of Glenbarth." It was the owner of the carriage and the father of my young friend, if by such a title I might designate the Marquis of Beckenham.

"Mr. Hatteras, I presume?" said he.

"Yes, that is my name. I am honoured by your visit. Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you."

He paused for a moment, and then continued:

"Mr. Hatteras, I have to offer you an apology. I should have called upon you yesterday to express the gratitude I feel to you for having saved the life of my son, but I was unavoidably prevented."

"I beg you will not mention it," I said. "His lordship thanked me sufficiently himself. And after all, when you look at it, it was not very much to do. I would, however, venture one little suggestion. Is it wise to let him swim so far unaccompanied by a boat? The same thing might happen to him on another occasion, and no one be near enough to render him any assistance."

"He will not attempt so much again. He has learned a lesson from this experience. And now, Mr. Hatteras, I trust you will forgive what I am about to say. My son has told me that you have just arrived in England from Australia. Is there