The Queen's Cup, G. A. Henty [best fantasy books to read .TXT] 📗

of course, the people at the yard are responsible for hauling her up. I shall probably be in town the same evening; but, if you like, and think that your mother is only stopping for you, we will go across to Southampton at once."

"Oh, no, I am sure that she would not like that; and I don't want to lose my last three days here. Of course, when we get home at the end of next week, and you are settled down there, too, you will be a great deal over at Greendale, but it won't be as it is here."

"Not by a long way. However, we shall be able to look forward to the spring, Bertha, when I shall have you all to myself on board, and we shall go on a long cruise together; though I do think that it is ridiculous that I should have to wait until then."

"Not at all ridiculous, sir. You say that you are perfectly happy—and everyone says that an engagement is the happiest time in one's life—and besides, it is partly your own fault; you have made me so fond of the Osprey that I have quite made up my mind that nothing could possibly be so nice as to spend our honeymoon on board her, and to go where we like, and to do as we like, without being bothered by meeting people one does not care for. And, besides, if you should get tired of my company, we might ask Jack Harley and Amy to come to us for a month or so."

"I don't think that it will be necessary for us to do that," he laughed. "Starting as we shall in the middle of March, we shan't find it too hot in the Mediterranean before we turn our head homewards; and I think we shall find plenty to amuse us between Gibraltar and Jaffa."

"No, three months won't be too much, Frank. Tomorrow is the dinner at the clubhouse, isn't it?"

"Yes. I should be sorry to miss that, for having only been just elected a member of the Squadron, I should like to put in an appearance at the first set dinner."

"Of course, Frank. I certainly should not like you to miss it."

The next evening Frank went ashore to dine at the club. An hour and a half later a yacht's boat came off.

"I have a note for Miss Greendale," the man in the stern said, as she came alongside; "I am to give it to her myself."

Bertha was summoned, and, much surprised, came on deck.

The man handed up the note to her. She took it into the companion, where a light was burning; her name and that of the yacht were in straggling handwriting that she scarcely recognised as Frank's.

She tore it open.

"My Darling: I have had a nasty accident, having been knocked down just as I landed. I am at present at Dr. Maddison's. I wish you would come ashore at once. It is nothing very serious, but if you did not see me you might think that it was. Don't agitate your mother, but bring Anna with you. The boat that brings this note will take you ashore."

Bertha gave a little gasp, and then summoning up her courage, ran down into the cabin.

"Mamma, dear, you must spare me and Anna for half an hour. I have just had a note from Frank. He has been knocked down and hurt. He says that it is nothing very serious, and he only writes to me to come ashore so that I can assure myself. I won't stop more than a quarter of an hour. If I find that he is worse than I expect, I will send Anna off to you with a message."

Scarcely listening to what her mother said in reply, she ran into her cabin, told Anna to put on her hat and shawl to go ashore with her, and in a minute descended to the boat with her maid. It was a four-oared gig, and the helmsman had taken his place in the stern behind them.

Bertha sat cold and still without speaking. She was sure that Frank must be more seriously hurt than he had said, or he would have had himself taken off to the yacht instead of to the surgeon's. The shaky and almost illegible handwriting showed the difficulty he must have had in holding the pencil.

The boat made its way through the fleet till it reached the shallow water which they had to cross on their way to the shore. Here, with the exception of a few small craft, the water was clear of yachts.

Suddenly the long line of lights along the shore disappeared, and something thick, heavy and soft fell over Bertha's head. An arm was thrown round her, and Anna pressed tightly against her. In vain she struggled. There was a faint, strange smell, and she lost consciousness.

An hour passed without her return to the yacht, and Lady Greendale began to fear that she had found Frank too ill to leave, and had forgotten to send Anna back with the message. At last she touched the bell.

"Will you tell the captain that I want to speak to him?"

"Captain," she said. "I am much alarmed about Major Mallett. That boat that came off here an hour ago brought a note for my daughter, saying that he had been hurt, and she went ashore with her maid to see him. She said that she would be back in a short time, and that if she found that he was badly hurt she would send her maid back with a message to me. She has been gone for more than an hour, and I wish you would take a boat and go ashore, find out how the Major is, and bring me back word at once. He is at Dr. Maddison's. You know the house."

The skipper hurried away with a serious face. A little more than a minute after he had left the cabin Lady Greendale heard the rattle of the blocks of the falls. The boat was little more than half an hour away. Lady Greendale, in her anxiety, had told the steward to let her know when it was coming alongside, and went up on deck to get the news as quickly as possible.

"It is a rum affair altogether, my lady," Hawkins said, as he stepped on deck. "I went to the doctor's, and he has seen nothing whatever of the Major, and Miss Greendale and her maid have not been to his house at all."

Lady Greendale stood for a moment speechless with surprise and consternation.

"This is most extraordinary," she said at last. "What can it mean? You are sure that there is no mistake, captain? It was to Dr. Maddison's house she went."

"Yes, my lady, there ain't no mistake about that. I have been there to fetch medicine for you two or three times. Besides, I saw the doctor myself."

"Major Mallett must have been taken to some other doctor's," she said, "and must have made a mistake and put in the name of Dr. Maddison. His house is some little distance from the club. There may be another doctor's nearer. What is to be done?"

"I am sure I do not know, my lady," the captain said, in perplexity.

"Where can my daughter and her maid be?" Lady Greendale went on. "They went ashore to go to Dr. Maddison's."

"Perhaps, my lady, they might have heard as they went ashore that the Major was somewhere else, or some messenger might have been waiting at the landing stage to take them there direct."

"That must be it, I suppose; but it is all very strange. I think the best thing, captain, will be for you to go to the club. They are sure to know there about the accident, and where he is. You see, the landing stage is close to the club, and he might have been just going in when he was knocked down—by a carriage, I suppose."

"Like enough he is at the club still, my lady. At any rate, I will go there in the first place and find out. There is sure to be a crowd about the gates listening to the music––they have got a band over from Newport—so that if they do not know anything at the club, there are sure to be some people outside who saw the accident, and will know where the Major was taken. Anyhow, I won't come back without news."

Even to Lady Greendale, anxious and alarmed as she was, it did not seem long before the steward came down with the news that the boat was just alongside. This time she was too agitated to go up. She heard someone come running down the companion, and a moment later, to her astonishment, Frank Mallett himself came in. He looked pale and excited.

"What is all this, Lady Greendale?" he exclaimed. "The skipper tells me that a letter came here saying that I had been hurt and taken to Dr. Maddison's, and that Bertha and her maid went off at once, and have not returned, though it is more than two hours since they went. I have not been hurt. I wrote no letter to Bertha, but was at dinner at the club when the skipper came for me. What is it all about?"

"I don't know, Frank. I cannot even think," Lady Greendale said in an agitated voice. "What can it all mean and where can Bertha be?" and she burst into tears.

"I don't know. I can't think," Frank said, slowly.

He stood silent for a minute or two, and then went on.

"I cannot suggest anything. I will go ashore at once. The waterman at our landing stage must have noticed if two ladies got out there. He could hardly have helped doing so, for it would be curious, their coming ashore alone after dark. Then I will go to the other landing places and ask there. There are always boys hanging about to earn a few pence by taking care of boats. I will be back as soon as I can."

The boat was still alongside, and the men stretched to their oars. Th a very few minutes they were at the club landing stage. The waterman here declared that no ladies whatever, unaccompanied by gentlemen, had landed after dark.

"I must have seen them, sir," he said, "for you see I go down to help out every party that arrives here. They must have gone to one of the other landing places."

But at neither of these could he obtain any information. There were several boys at each of them who had been there for hours, and they were unanimous in declaring that no ladies had landed there after dark at all. He then walked up and down between the watch house and the club.

He had, when he landed, intended to go to the police office as soon as he had inquired at the landing stages––the natural impulse of an Englishman who has suffered loss or wrong—but the more he thought it over the more inexpedient did such a course seem to him. It was highly improbable—indeed, it seemed to him impossible––that they could do more than he had in the matter. The passage of two ladies through the crowded streets would scarcely have attracted the attention of anyone, and any idea of violence being used was out of the question. If they had landed, which he now regarded as very improbable, they must have at least gone willingly to the place where they believed they should find him, and unless every house in Cowes was searched from top to bottom there was no chance of finding them, carefully hidden away as they would be. He could not see, therefore, that the police could at present be of any utility whatever. It might be necessary finally to obtain the aid of the police, but in that case it was Scotland Yard and not Cowes that the matter must be laid before; and even this should be only a last resort, for above all things it was necessary for Bertha's sake that the matter should be kept a profound secret, and, once in the hands of the police, it would be in all the papers the next day. If the aid of detectives was to be called in, it would be far better to put it into the hands of a private detective.

Having made up his mind upon this point, he returned to the yacht.

"I am sorry to say that I have no news," he said to Lady Greendale, who was lying on the couch, worn out with weeping. "I have ascertained almost beyond doubt that they did not land at the club stage or either of the other two landing places."

"What can it be?" she sobbed. "What can have become of them?"

"I am afraid there is little doubt that they have been