To Call Her Mine, etc. (Katharine Regina.-'Self or Bearer.')

Front matter

HE LOOKED DOWN UPON THE MAN WHOSE WORDS HE WAS REPEATINO WITH CONTEMPT AND ASTONISHMENT.' TO CALL HER MINE etc. BY WALTER BESANT AUTHOR C ALL SORTS AND CONDITIONS OF MEN,' 'CHILDREN OF GIBEON,' ETC. NINE ILLUSTRATIONS BY A. FORESTIER H. out) on CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY CONTENTS. TO GALL HER MINE. CHAPTER PAGE I. ON AN ISLAND ... ... 1 II. A JONAH COME ABOARD ..... 12 III. THE FIRST DREAM . . . . . .22 IV. CHALLACOMBE-BY-THE-MOOR .... 34 V. FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE . . . . .40 VI. THE CHOIR-PRACTICE ..... 46 VII. WHO IS HE 1 . . . . . .52 VIII. A QUIET SUNDAY MORNING .... 61 IX. AT SIDCOTE . . . . . . .70 X. GRIMSPOUND ...... 79 XI. DAVID'S NEXT VISIT . . . . . .91 XII. THE SECOND DREAM ..... 100 XIII. THE CANVAS BAG . . . . . 104 XIV. DRINK ABOUT ...... 108 XV. WITH THE BEST INTENTIONS . . . . .114 XVI.

DAVID MAKES A PROPOSAL. . . . . 120 XVII. A GLEAM OF LIGHT . . . . . .124 XVIII. THE ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY . . . 129 XIX. THE LAST APPEAL ...... 134 XX. THE THIRD DREAM. ..... 139 KATHARINE REGINA. I. 'THE CUP — ' ...■■•• 1*7 II. 'AND THE LIP' ...-•• 156 III. HAELET HOUSE, CLEVELAND SQUARE . . . .164 IV. A FAITHFUL TRUSTEE . 176 V. KATIE ...••••• 1|* VI. DITTMER BOCK ...... 187 VII. THE LOST PLACE ...... 192 VIII. THE CHRONICLE OF WASTED TIME .... 197 ix. tom's dead hand . . .... 206 X. THE last shilling ..... 215 XI. A night out ...•••• 221 xii. in the fog ...... CONTENTS. iv PAGE CHAPTER noK XIII. IN THE MORNING ..■■■• fr/Z XIV. THE NUBIAN DESERT . j* XV. JOYFUL TIDINGS ..■■•• XVI. TOM'S RETURN ..•••■ V^ XVII. THE SEARCH ...•■•■ fz~ XVIII. IN THE WORKROOM ...••• 271 XIX. THE SHATTERING OF THE CASTLE . 280 XX.

LIFE AND LOVE ....•■ 288 'SELF OR REARER.' I. ON A VERSE OF VIRGIL . . - . . . 297 II. HIS LORDSHIP'S TOWN-HOUSE . . . . 311 III. A LONG MORNING IN THE CITY .... 325 IV. WHO HAS DONE THIS ? . . . . • 341 V. A STEADY YOUNG MAN'S EVENING ..... 353 VI. THE TEMPTATION ...... 362 VII. ' DOWN WITH LANDLORDS !' . . . . . 368 VIII. THE GRAVE OF HONOUR ..... 374 IX. THE BROKEN RING ...... 388 X. THE

Chapter II

A JONAH COME ABOARD. ' Then you think,' said the Mate, looking about him with doubt, ' that we shall do no business here ?' He was a young fellow of two-and-twenty or so, a frank and honest-looking sailor, though his business was that of a cunning kidnapper. Perhaps he had not been long enough at it for the pro fession to get itself stamped upon his forehead. He was armed with a revolver, ready to hand, and a cutlass hanging at his side. Behind him were four sailors, also armed, in readiness for an attack, for Polynesians are treacherous ; and in the boat, pulled as near the shore as the shallow water allowed, were two more men, oars out and in their hands, guns at their side, ready to shove off in a moment. But there were no islanders in sight, only these two Europeans : one a tall man of nearly seven feet, dressed in fantastic imitation of the natives ; and the other, apparently, an ordinary beachcomber, quite out of luck, ragged, dejected,, and haggard.

A little way off the land lay the schooner. Her business was to enlist, kidnap, procure, or secure, by any means in the power of tbe captain and the crew, as many natives as the ship would hold, and to bring them to North Queensland, where they would be hired out to the planters, exactly as the redemptioners were hired out, in the last century, in Maryland and Virginia, to work out their term of service, and, also exactly like the redemptioners, to find that term indefinitely prolonged by reason of debt for tobacco, clothes, rum, and all kinds of things. They would be privileged to cultivate sugar, coffee, and other tropical productions, and to witness, a loner way off, the choicest blessings of civilization ; they would also be allowed to cheer their souls with the hope of some day returning to their native islands where these blessings have not yet penetrated, and where they would have to live out the remainder of their days in savagery of that deplorable kind which enjoys perpetual sunshine and warmth, with plenty to eat, nothing to wear, and nothing to do.

Warmth, food, and rest— for these as a bribe what would not our people resign of their blessings ? The clothes they wear ? Well, it would be a good exchange, indeed, from their insufficient and ragged clothes in a cold climate, to none at all in a place where none are wanted. To exchange the food they eat for the food of the South Sea Islander ? Well— apart from roasted Brother— it would certainly seem, at first, a change for the better. To exchange work— hard, horrible, unceasing work — for rest? Who would not ? — oh ! who would not ? Free institutions and Socialist clubs for a country with no institutions at all ? Why, why is there not an extensive emigration of the Indolent, the Unlucky, and the Out of-Work for these Fortunate Islands ? ' It is an unlucky voyage,' said the Mate, gazing earnestly at the two men before him, whose appearance aud the contrast between them puzzled him. ' Two months out and five weeks becalmed ; no business done, and the skipper drunk all day long.

Say, strangers, how did you come here ?' ' For my part,' said the German, ' I am a naturalist. I make the coleoptera my special study. I have, I believe, enriched science with so many rare and previously unknown specimens, if I succeed in getting them to Europe, that my name will be certainly remembered in scientific history as one of those who have advanced knowledge. Can any man ask more ?' ' Colly ! — colly what ?' asked the Mate. ' But never mind your Colly-what's-her-name. How the devil did you get such a rig, man ?' ' I am a linguist,' the Baron Sergius Von Holsten went on to explain, ' as well as a naturalist. I therefore learned the language before landing here, having found a native or two of New Ireland in the mission of the Duke of York Island. It is a great thing to know how to talk with these black children.

I am also a surgeon and a physician, so that I can heal their wounds and their diseases when they get any. You see, further, that I am bigger than most men. I am also thorough. I adopted their dress — at least, some of it,' he looked complacently at his toga of tapu cloth ; ' and, therefore, being able to talk to them, to impress them with my stature, and to cure them, I landed among them without fear. When they came round me with their spears, I shouted to them that I was a great magician, come to their help straight down from the sun. And as I know a little prestidigitation and conjuring, and am a bit of a ventriloquist, I am from time to time able to work a few of the simpler miracles. So that they readily believe me.' ' How long are you going to stay here ?' . ' I know not ; New Ireland is rich in new species ; but I shall have to stop as soon as my means of collection and description come to an end.

When that day comes I shall be glad to see a ship. But it will not be yet !' ' They may kill you.' ' It is possible,' the Baron shrugged his tall shoulders ; ' they are like little children. It may occur to one of them some day to find out what I should do, and how I should look, if he were to drive his spear into my back. We all run our little dangers, and must not allow them to stop our work.' The Mate looked doubtful. 'I am also an ethnologist, and I assure you, Lieutenant, that the study of these people is of profound interest.' ' Have 3'ou no arms ?' ' I have a revolver ; but what is one revolver against the spears of a whole people ? I have really no other weapon but my power of persuasion, and my reputation for magic and sorcery. These will not fail me, unless, as I said before, one of them may be anxious to see how a god behaves and how he looks with a spear stuck through him.' ' And how do you live ?' ' The people bring me food every day.

If they did not, I should afflict them with horrible misfortunes, as they very well know. I should tell them that in three days such a one would be dead, and then it would be that man's duty to go away and die, in fulfilment of prophecy. I suppose his friends would never speak to him again if he refused to fulfil the words of the Prophet, so great is their faith. They bring me the unripe cocoanut for its milk ; there are fish of every kind in the sea, which they net and spear for me ; there are kangaroo and cassowary on the hills, which they snare and trap for me ; there are birds, which they shoot for me ; there are mangoes, bread-fruit, bananas, 3'ams, sweet potatoes, and taro. I assure you we feed very well. Don't we, David ?' He laid his hand on the other man's shoulder. ' We have also tobacco.

There is, however — which you regret, David, don't you ? — no rum on the island.' ' Is your — your — chum also worshipped ?' asked the Mate, regarding David with an obvious decrease of interest. ' No ; David is recognised as of inferior clay. This poor fellow was wrecked upon the island ; he came ashore on a plank, the rest of the ship's crew aud passengers have given indigestion to the sharks. He is not happy here, and he would like you to take him off the island.' ' Yes,' said David eagerly, but still in his slow way, ' anywhere, so that I can only get on my way to England.' ' He was just getting off his plank, and the people were preparing to receive him joyfully, warmly, and hospitably, after their fashion ; that is to say, into their pots — they have a beautiful method of cooking, in a kind of sunken pot, which would greatly interest you if you were a captive and expecting your turn — when I fortunately arrived, and succeeded, by promising an eclipse if I was disobeyed, in saving him.

The eclipse came in good time ; but I had forgiven the people for their momentary mutiny, and I averted its power for evil. So long as David sticks close to me now he is safe. If he leaves me his end is certain. But he is no use to me, and for certain reasons I should very much prefer that he was gone. Will you take him ?' ' The ship doesn't carry passengers,' said the Mate ; ' besides ' ' He is harmless, and you can trust him not to make mischief. I will pay for him if you like.' ' What does he want to go home for ?' asked the Mate doubtfully. Indeed, the appearance of the man did not warrant the belief that he would be welcomed by his friends. ' He has to pay a pilgrimage : he has to deliver a message before a magistrate, and to be subsequently elevated to a post of great distinction,' said the Baron. ' Humph !' said the Mate. ' He looks as if he'd done something.

Better keep in these latitudes, stranger ; where no one asks and no one cares. But about his fare — who's to pay for his passage and his grub, if we take him ?' ' You will return some time to Queensland. Take or send this note.' He took his note-book, tore off half a leaf, and wrote a few words upon it. ' Send this note to Messrs. Hengstenburg and Company, Sydney. Tell them where you got it, and they will give you £20 for it, and will thank you into the bargain for letting them know that, so far, the Baron Sergius Von Holsten is safe. If there is any money left after paying for your passenger, give it to this poor devil. He is not such a bad devil, though he looks so miserable, unless he begins to confide in you. When he does that, lock him up in a cabin. Perhaps he has done something, as you say : what do we know ?

As for doing things,' he said, regarding his humble companion with the utmost severity, ' a man who is tempted to commit a crime ought always to remember that he will some day, in all probability, be wrecked on a desert island, an island of cannibals, in the company of one, and only one, other European, and that man greatly his superior ; and he ought truly to resolve that under no temptations will he do anything which may make him a nuisance and a bore to that companion through the vehemence of his repentance.' David Leighan groaned. 'Man, added the Baron sententiously, ' does not live forhimself alone ; and he who rashly commits a crime may hereafter seriously inter fere with the comfort of his brother man.' David hung his head. ' I forgive you, David. I have protected you from the natives' spears and their pots and carving-knives for six months, though it has cost me many foolish threats and vain curses.

I have fed you and sheltered you. I have been rewarded by penitential groans and by outward tokens of fervent contrition. These have saddened my days, and have disturbed my slumbers. Groan, henceforth, into other ears. I forgive yon, however, only on one condition, that you return no more. If you do, you shall be speared and potted without remorse. As for the document in my note book ' ' I shall get to England before you,' said David ; ' and when I get there, I shall go at once to Challacombe or Moreton and make a statement just like the one you have in your note-book. By the time you come to England, I shall be ' 1 Exactly,' said the Baron, smiling sweetly. ' You will have been a public character. Well, to each man comes, somehow, his chance of greatness. I hope you may enjoy your reputation, David, though it may be shortlived.' The Mate, meantime, was considering the note put into his hands.

It was very short, and was a simple draught upon a merchant's house in Sydney— the shortest draught, I suppose, ever written, and on the smallest piece of paper. ' Messrs. Hengstenburg and Co., Sydney. Pay bearer £20. New Ireland. 1884. Baron Sergius Von Holsten.' ' I will take him,' said the Mate. ' The Captain is always drunk, so it is no use waiting to ask him. Most likely he will never know. I expect to be out another three or four months. He can come aboard with me. But, stranger,' he said persuasively, 'can no business be done ? Are they open to reason ?' He looked round at the forest and the deserted huts. ' Can we trade for a few natives, you and me, between us ? Lord ! if I could only see my way to persuade 'em to worship me, I'd— blessed if I wouldn't !— I would ship the whole island.

There would be a fortune in it.' ' They are open to no reason at all. In fact, if they were at this moment — nothing is more probable — to come down upon us untxpectedly, it would be a painful necessity for me— if I valued my reputation as a Prophet — to order them to attack and spear both you and your crew ; otherwise, I should be considered a false Prophet, and should pay the penalty in being myself speared and put into these curious large sunken pots in which one lies so snug and warm. They are a bloodthirsty, ferocious race. In their cookery they are curious, as I have already informed you. They are wonderfully handy with their lances, and they move in large bodies. Those pop-guns of yours would knock over two or three, but would be of no avail to save your own lives. Therefore, I would advise that you get into your boat and aboard your ship with as little delay as possible.' The Mate took his advice, and departed with his passenger. ' And now,' said the Baron Sergius, ' I am alone at last, and can enjoy myself without any of that fellow's groans.

I never knew before how extremely disagreeable one single simple murder may make a man.' That evening the rescued man, David Leighan, sat on the deck with his friend the Mate. They had a bottle of rum between them and a pannikin apiece. The island of New Ireland was now a black patch low down on the horizon ; the night was clear, and the sky full of stars ; there was a steady breeze, and the schooner was making her way easily and gently across the smooth water. David was off the island at last, and once more free to return to England, yet he did not look happier ; on the contrary, the gloom upon his face was blacker than ever. ' The Skipper,' said the Mate, ' is drunk again. He's been drunk since we sailed out of port. Don't you never ship with a Skipper that is drunk all day long. Once in a way — say of a Saturday night, when a man may expect it — there's no harm done ; and not much when the fit takes him now and then in an uncertain way, though it may put the men about more than a bit.

Whereas, you see, the Captain has got the owners' private instructions — those which they don't write down. He knows how far he may go with the natives, and where he's to draw the line. So that if he's always drunk, what is the Mate to do ? Either he may take the ship home again and report his own Captain, in which case he makes enemies for life, and may never get a berth again, or he may fill his ship with goods in the easiest way they can be got, which, I needn't tell you, mate, is a rough way. And when he gets back to port, what is to prevent some of his men from rounding on that Mate ? •2 Then all the blame falls on him, and he is prosecuted, because it will be shown in evidence that the Captain was drunk all the time. Either way, therefore, the Mate gets the worst of it. Sometimes I think it would be best for him to join the Captain.

Then the command would devolve upon the bo's'n, and how he'd get his goods everybody knows.' The officer was loquacious, and talked on about his trade and its difficulties, not at first observing that his companion took no interest in it. ' Seems as if you're sorry you've left the island,' he said presently, remarking a certain absence of sympathy. ' I wish I had stayed there,' said David, with a groan. ' There at least I was safe, except for the — the thing at night ; whereas, if I get back to England, supposing I ever do ' here he stopped. ' If you've done something, man, what the devil do you want to go back to England for ?' ' Because I must. There's ropes pulling me back, and yet there's something that always stops me. I was going home from Brisbane, but the ship was wrecked. That is how I got on New Ireland.

Before that, I was travelling down to Melbourne to get a passage from there, but the train was smashed, and I had three months in hospital and spent all my money. I dare say something will happen to this ship. She'll run on a rock or capsize, or something.' The Mate made no reply for a little. He was superstitious, like all sailors. Just then the drunken Captain began to sing at the top of his voice. It was a sound of ill-omen. The Mate shuddered, and took another sip of the rum. ' Man,' he said, ' I don't like it. If the crew had heard them words, they'd have had you overboard in a minute. Don't tell me they wouldn't, because they would, and think nothing of it. This is a voyage where we want all the luck we can get ; not to have our honest endeavours thwarted by such an unlucky devil as your self.

Well, I won't tell them. But keep a quiet tongue in your head. And now go below and turn in.' Later on, the Mate was able to turn in for an hour. His passenger was sitting up in bed, remonstrating with some invisible person. ' I am going home,' he said, ' as fast as I can go. Leave me in peace. I am going home, and I will confess everything.' The Mate asked him what he was doing, but received no answer for the man had fallen back upon the pillow and was fast asleep. He had been talking in his sleep. ' I'll put him ashore,' said the Mate, 'at the first land we make where he won't be eaten by cannibals. I believe he's committed a murder.' The next day, and the next, and for many days the vessel sailed among the islands of the Southern Seas. But David grew daily more miserable and more despondent ; his face looked more haggard, and his eyes became more hollow.

He was dismal when sober, and despairing when drunk. The Mate left him now altogether alone, and none of the ship's company, who regarded him with doubtful, if not unfriendly eyes, spoke to him. So that he was able to revel in the luxury of repentance, and to taste beforehand, in imagina tion, the pleasures of the atonement which awaited him. It proved a most unlucky voyage. They lost two men in an en counter with the natives ; they had no success in trading ; the Captain continued to drink, and the Mate wished devoutly that the cruise was finished and the ship back in port, if only to have done with a voyage which he foresaw would continue as it had begun. The end came unexpectedly. One night the watch on deck were startled by a bright light in the Captain's cabin. The light shot into a flame, and the flame leaped and ran along the sides of the cabin and caught the deck and licked the timbers of the ship.

The old schooner was as dry as tinder, and caught fire like a piece of paper. In five minutes it became apparent that they must take to their boats. This they did, having just time to put in a little water and some provisions. As to the drunken man who had done the mischief, be came out of the burning cabin and danced and sang until the flames dragged him down. In the fierce glare of the burning ship, the Mate looked at David reproachfully, implying that this misfortune was entirely due to his presence. 'Even now,' he whispered, 'I will not tell the men you have ruined the voyage, burned the ship, killed the Captain, and maybe killed us as well. What have you done that we should be punished like this for taking you on board ? Is it— is it murder ?' David nodded his head gloomily. ' Then,' said the Mate, ' whatever happens to us, you'll get safe ashore.

You won't be drowned and you won't be starved.' Three weeks later there were only two survivors in that boat. The other men had all drunk seawater, and so gone mad one after the other, and leaped overboard in their delirium. Only David 2—2 Leighan was left with the Mate, and they were lying one in the bows and one in the stern, as far apart as the boat would allow, and they were black in the face, gaunt, and hollow-eyed. When they were picked up, the signs of life were so faint in them that the Skipper, a "humane person, took counsel with his Mate, whether it would not save the poor men trouble to drop them into the water at once. But in the end, as there was just the least and faintest pulse possible, he hoisted them aboard and laid them on the deck, with their heads propped up. Then, the ship having no doctor aboard, he began to administer whisky and rum in alternate spoonfuls, so that the dying men got so drunk that they could no longer die with any dignity.

They therefore re covered, and sat up, gazing about them with rolling heads and vacuous eyes. Then they fell back, and went sound asleep for six hours. At the end of this time the misery of the long fasting began again with pangs intolerable. But the Captain rose to the occasion. Pea-soup, also exhibited in spoonfuls, proved a specific. Next day they had boiled pork ; and the day after, sea-pie. Now, the man who can eat sea-pie can eat anything. The two survivors of the unlucky schooner were once more well and hearty. For the rest of the voyage the rescued Mate kept aloof from the rescued passenger. He would not speak to him ; he avoided that part of the ship where he happened to be. As for the latter, he found a place abaft, near the helm, where he could sit upon a coil of rope, his head upon his knees.

And there he remained, gloomy and silent. There was trouble, too. First the ship sprang a leak, and the pumps had to be worked. Next, there was a bad storm, and the mizen-mast went by the board. Thirdly, a fire broke out, and was subdued with difficulty. However, the ship at last sighted land, and arrived, battered and shattered, at the port of Sydney. When they landed, and not till then, the rescued Mate spoke his mind. First he went to the house of Hengstenburg and Co., where he presented the Baron's draught, gave news of his safety, and touched the money. He then led his passenger to a drinking-saloon, and entered into a serious conversation with him. ' As for this money,' he said, ' you weren't a passenger more than a few days, and I can't rightly charge you much. Take fifteen, and I'll take five.

With fifteen pounds you can get home, which I take to be your desire, and give yourself up, which I take to be your duty.' It will be understood that the unfortunate David in the extremity of his starvation and remorse had been talking. ' A Providence it is,' said the Mate, ' that where so many honest fellows were took, I was spared ; else you would never have had this money, and you wouldn't therefore have been able to give yourself up, and you would never have been hung. A clear Provi dence it is ; and you must regard it as such, and remember it when they take you out, comfortably, with the chaplain and the rope.' David took the money, rolled it up in a rag, and placed it in his pocket ; but said nothing. ' I don't want,' continued the Mate, ' to hurt your feelings ; but, if you can, go home on a raft by yourself ; for, being a Jonah ' ' What is a Jonah ?' ' Being a Jonah, in a whale's belly, it would be kind and con siderate and might save many valuable lives.

As for me, I don't mind owning up, that if I was to find myself aboard with you again, after all I've gone through, and you carrying about wherever you go an infernal, invisible ghost and talking and confessing to him every night — I say, if I was to find myself aboard with you again, I'd get into the dingy and row ashore by myself — I would, if it was in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.' David groaned. Then the Mate moralized upon the situation. Strange to say, he took something of the line previously taken by Baron Sergius. 'One fine ship wrecked, and all her crew, for aught I know, cast away ; another tight schooner burnt and the Captain and all the crew killed, except you and me ; and a third ship half burned and brought water-logged into port — and all along of you ! Blow me ! if you'd knifed a Bishop there couldn't have been more fuss made !

I won't reproach you, my lad, because you've got your ghost to do that every night, and because you've got to face the racket of the chaplain and the rope and the long drop ; but, considering the mischief you've done, I wish to put it to you, that what you've done was a beastly selfish thing to do.'