The Expedition of Captain Flick ... Fifth thousand

Front matter

FERGUS HUME'S POPULAR 3/6 NOYELS Uniform with " The Expedition of Captain Flick." The Mystery of Landy Court. Second Edition. "The story is cleverly written, and the interest is kept up to the last page." — Daily Telegraph. "We think that this is the best book Mr. Fergus Hume has yet written." — Daily Chronicle. The Lone Inn. A Mystery. Second Edition. "Even such a master of mysteries as the Author may be congratulated on the ingenuity of that which in ' The Lone Inn ' keeps the reader from first to last in a maze of expectancy and doubt. The whole tale is exceptionally weird and effective." —Morning Post. The Mystery of a Hansom Cab. Revised Edition. 400th Thousand. It is the intrinsic merit of the book as a tale of intense dramatic interest which has so attracted readers of all classes and all ages, and created a demand unexampled in the history of contemporary works of fiction." — Bucks Herald.

By Order of the Brotherhood. A Thrilling Story of Russian Intrigue. By Le Voleur. Sixth Thousand. "The absorbing interest of the story is not allowed to flag, and incident is piled upon incident in luxuriant profusion." — Speaker. London : Jarrold and Sons, 10 and it, Warwick Lane, E.C., and at all Booksellers. By FERGUS H UJVLE Author of The Mys= tery of a Hansom Cab — The Mystery of Landy Court — The Lone Inn, etc. * * * * FIFTH THOUSAND All Rights Reserved LONDON JARROLD AND SONS WARWICK LANE E.C. " Who dares to say romance is dead, Because the world is waxing hoary ? While lands unknown await our tread, Who dares to say romance is dead ? In realms beyond the eastern red, We still may find its golden glory. Who dares to say romance is dead, Because the world is waxing hoary ? " CONTENTS.

CHATTER I'ACE I. A Mysterious Letter... ... ... ... i II. "Roaring Tom" ... ... ... ... 16 III. The Ugly Little Negro ... ... ... 30 IV. Fair Venus of the Star ... ... ... 45 V. How we Decided to Take SHir ... ... 57 VI. The Isles of Greece ... ... ... 69 VII. A Ruined Shrine ... ... ... ... So VIII. The Scarlet Ship... ... ... ... 90 IX. Lethe ... ... ... ... ... ... 101 X. Southward Ho! ... ... ... ... 111 XI. The Chart of Isk ... ... ... ... 121 XII. We are Driven South'ard ... ... 132 XIII. In Indian Seas ... ... ... ••• 143 XIV. The Mysterious Island ... ... ... 154 XV. The City of Awazil ... ... ... ••• 165 XVI. The King ... ... ... ... ... "7*5 XVII. The Temple of the Star ... ... ••• VI CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE XVIII. A Council of Three ... ... ... 200 XIX. In the Heart of the Island ... ... 213 XX.

Chapter I

A MYSTERIOUS LETTER. " A fool is he, who cares to be, A stay-at-home at five-and-twenty ; When limbs are old, and blood is cold, And all the tales of life are told, There's time enough sor peace and plenty." "\ T J ERE it not the end of this notoriously sceptical * * century, I should have no hesitation in set ting forth this narrative without apology; the more so as there are two witnesses who can testify to its veracity. Nevertheless, I feel bound (bearing in mind the extraordinary events which are herein related), to preface the same with the assertion that it is true. At the risk of being dubbed a liar, and dismissed to the company of Marco Polo and Sir John Mandeville, B I declare that I shared in the deadly perils which beset our ship's company in the island of Isk ; and furthermore, that I saw with my own eyes the manifold iniquities of those who dwelt thereon, heathens and barbarians.

If the tale savour of " The Thousand and one Nights " — as it assuredly does — the fault lies not with the teller ; for I have neither taken from, nor added to, but have set forth to the best of my ability — which I admit is small — the story of that strange expedition, into which Harry Greenvile and I were cozened by Captain Flick, more commonly called " Roaring Tom." For all shortcomings in the matter of style and literary worth, I would ask the indulgence of those who read ; and would also beseech them to abate their scepticism, when they remember in what terra incognita these doings occurred. Having thus much protected myself from scoff and doubt, I will proceed to the events. This story begins on a May morning of 18 — , when I was staying with Harry at his demesne of Bucks ford, in the fair county of Devon.

The Court, with its appurtenances of meadow and moor and wood, overlooks Barnstaple Bay above the town ; and it came to Harry, as heir, a twelvemonth before the arrival of Captain Flick. With him dwelt his sister Bertha — fairest of Devonian maids, and my promised wife ; also Mrs. Barber, commonly known as Aunt Chrissy — whose domestic rule dated from the passing of her sister-in-law, Mrs. Greenvile, ten years before. The rents of Bucksford, and of divers London properties, ran up to some ten thousand a year ; so Harry entered into his kingdom with as good a chance of happiness as ever fell to the lot of a young man. He had not yet turned his thoughts to matrimony, being full of fire and adventure ; but Bertha, who was close on her majority, had consented to become my wife ; and to take up her abode in Shropshire as Lady Evans.

Our marriage had been stayed unexpectedly by the death of her father, but in three months I was to lead her to the altar ; and latterly I had come to Bucksford to consult with Harry touching settle ments on my part, and a disposition of Bertha's share of certain monies on his. Time had assuaged the grief of us all for the death of Maxwell Greenvile, and we were as merry a quartette as could be found in the three kingdoms. I would that Captain Flick had not come to spoil our mirth and break up our party.; but come he did, and dearly did we pay for falling in with his mad humours. On that morning — which I remember well as dating the first intimation of what was intended us by Fortune — I had spent more time over my toilet than I care to confess, though, to be sure, such vanity stands excused to a lover ; and I descended in the expectation of finding breakfast at an end.

But the meal was untouched, the room empty ; and I heard Bertha singing, as she paced the lawn before the house. Outside I went, nothing loath for a matutinal chat, and here I was greeted with a reproving smile and an uplifted forefinger. "It is close on ten, Denis," said she, offering her cheek. " At what hour do you think we breakfast ? " " Faith, that is more than I can say," was my answer. " Breakfast at Bucksford is like Easter, a movable feast. But, if I am late, others are later. Mrs. Barber and Harry, for instance." "Aunt Chrissy is not coming down this morning, as she has a bad headache ; but Harry has been up and away to Bideford these four hours." " He can do with less sleep than I, then. We talked till midnight." "The subject of conversation must have been interesting." "Very!" said I, smiling.

"It was about a young lady, called Bertha Greenvile, who " "No compliments before breakfast," she replied, tapping my cheek. "Be sensible, or I shall leave you. Let us wait here for Harry, and admire the view." It was well worth admiring, but I looked less at the scene before me than at her who was to be my wife. The glimpse of slate roofs below the trees skirting the park ; the shining streak of the Taw uncoiling like a snake seaward ; the lengthy bulk of Lundy, frowning between sapphire sky and turquoise sea ; I had seen them a hundred times, so I wasted no glances there which were better bestowed on Bertha. She was as beautiful a maid as ever saw light in Devon ; and that being a county of fair women, the comparison is no mean compliment. But, putting aside a lover's partiality, she was a very Venus for looks, a Juno for dignity, and a Hebe for girlish grace.

That, I take it, is a desirable trinity from Lempriere. Yet it were fitter to compare her with Brunhild and Gundrun than with Hellenic deities ; for although the Greenviles of Bucksford claim kindred with that famous Bideford family which gave Sir Richard to the last Tudor, and Sir Bevil to the second Stuart (and truly I discern in Harry many notable traits of Elizabethan and Carolian ancestors), I concluded, from the physical splendour which distinguished brother and sister, that there was Norse blood in their veins. Bertha was a stately and tranquil maiden, clear skinned, and golden haired, with that serene beauty of countenance which pertains to the heroines of the north. I first saw her when Harry brought me as his college chum from Oxford, and must own that I then felt a trifle abashed by her majestic purity.

But that awe wore off when I learned to know her better, for she was merry at heart, and could unbend to her friends, though sufficiently imperious to the outside world. My feelings quickened, through months of intercourse, from admiration to love, and I was blessed beyond my deserts by finding that she inclined kindly towards me. Thereupon I asked her for heart and hand, to which she consented, and being of a good Shropshire family, titled and wealthy, I had no difficulty in obtaining the approval and bless ing of Mr. Greenvile. So, in this wise, it came about that I paced the lawn by her side, affianced lover and promised husband. While thus strolling, we talked of divers things touching our future, but principally we conversed of him for whom we waited breakfast. Harry had a passion for sea travel and adventure — inherited no doubt with his Norse blood — and he was only happy when sailing his yacht, the Carmen, in perilous seas.

Of this Bertha, who was a true stay-at-home house wife, did not approve, and so spoke her mind on the subject. " If he would only settle down and marry," she said, referring to her brother, "it would be so much better for him ; but he is always longing for travel." " Where is the Carmen now ? " "At Plymouth, where she is being overhauled for a long voyage. Harry intends to start as soon as our marriage takes place." " Well, that won't be for three months, Bertha ; so you will have him with you for some time yet. Where does he intend to go ? " " I don't know. He has been in all four quarters of the world, so " "Save the South Seas, Bertha," said a gay voice at her elbow, and we turned to find Harry, booted and spurred, beside us. My friend always reminded me of the hero of " Westward Ho " — surely one of the noblest books in our English tongue — for he was a fair-haired giant, all bone and muscle and genial good humour.

His steady blue eyes, and firm lips, showed that he was prudent as daring ; and, indeed, in many ways he was wise beyond his years. Less a scholar than an athlete, he had been renowned at Oxford for all physical exercises ; and he was as fine a specimen of English youth as the most fastidious could desire. Never was there a more splendid young man. That lean frame was inured to fatigue, those brawny arms could smite to some purpose ; and a quick eye and cool head enhanced the advantages of his physique. He was unfit for social gatherings and club dawdlings, and looked out of place amid the tame surroundings of civilization. The lad was a born adventurer, destined to be foremost among those pioneers who carry the flag of England into unknown regions. Quick-witted, resourceful, prudent, dauntless, Harry Greenvile was a modern type of those Elizabethans who first widened our bounds of empire.

Those croakers who lament the decay of English physique would change their note did they see this lad of Devon. It was small wonder that one so overflowing with health and vitality and desire for adventure should find irksome the quiet country life to which, by his landed interests, he was condemned. Riding and shooting, swimming and rowing, were all very well in their way ; but they lacked the danger which alone gave zest to life in Harry's opinion. Whenever it was possible he turned the nose of the Carmen towards trackless oceans and unknown lands ; and although his father had been dead only twelve months, he had already accomplished a voyage to the Sea of Okotsk, from whence he had reluctantly returned to grace our wedding. It was true that there was yet three months to spare, but the delay was caused by Bertha, who further postponed the ceremony for six weeks ; and great was the wrath of Harry when he found that he could have stayed away longer without difficulty.

As yet he had never been in love ; and he preferred the excitement of danger and travel to the smiles of beauty. He was as wedded to the sea as Venice, and cared more for masculine company than for that of women, though he did not set up for a Sir Galahad of purity. A good comrade, an honourable man, a venturesome explorer, he was a fine creature in all respects, and I was as proud that he should be my brother-in-law, as that Bertha should be Lady Evans. "Hallo, you two!" said he brusquely, "I must apologize for being late. I suppose breakfast is over ? " " It ought to be, but is not," replied his sister, kissing him. " I waited for Denis." "Just out of bed, I suppose," growled Harry genially, poking me in the ribs with his riding-whip. " What indolence ! Why, I've been up since sunrise, and had a glorious gallop to Bideford on Black Dick."

"Those who ride early brag all the morning and sleep all the afternoon," said I, pointedly. " Egad, not I ! " retorted Harry, following his sister into the house. " I'm off to town by the midday train." "Again!" expostulated Bertha, as she seated herself at the table. " You only came back two days ago. What is the attraction in London ? " " I have to see about stores for the Carmen. Besides, you and Denis can do your billing and cooing without my assistance." "Come now, Hal! We don't make ourselves objectionable in that way." Bertha laughingly supported my contention, and we both waited for Harry to make some jesting reply. In place of doing so, he looked silently at a letter he had just picked up, and the colour left his sunburnt cheeks. "What is the matter, Harry?" asked his sister anxiously ; " no bad news, I hope."

Harry forced a laugh, and opened the letter in a leisurely fashion. "No. But this letter is addressed to father, and so gave me a shock." " To father ! " said Bertha in a low voice. " That is strange. " Surely all our friends know that he is gone." " One does not, my dear sister — Captain Thomas Flick." " Flick ! What an odd name ! " " No odder than some of your Devonian appella tions," said I dryly. " Coffin, for instance." " Now then, old Evans," retorted Harry, who had recovered his spirits, " don't asperse the West country. Coffin's as good a name as Howard or Hamilton, and " " What about Captain Flick ? " interrupted Bertha, anxious for information ; " who is he ? " " If this letter is to be believed, he was a schoolfellow of our poor father's." " So Aunt Chrissy says, Harry." " No doubt she is right," retorted her brother ; "he must have known father well, to make so cool a request as is herein contained."

"Read the letter, and let us judge," suggested I, seeing Bertha rather affected by the mention of her father. " Read it yourself, Denis," replied Harry, passing it to me. " I wish to eat my breakfast ; and, moreover, the ancient mariner writes so crabbed a hand, that I can only grasp the drift of his epistle. You are a bookish man, old Evans, so expound." The caligraphy of Captain Flick was indeed in need of improvement, and I saw that he could handle a rope better than a pen ; but my studies had given me some skill in deciphering crabbed text, so with a trifle of difficulty I succeeded in reading aloud the following epistle : — " 143, Quarral Street, W. " Dear Maxwell, " Have you forgotten Tom Flick who used to thrash you at Eton some fifty years ago ? Lord, how time flies ! If you have not, I am anxious to run down to Bucksford, and renew my acquaintance with you.

I have given up the merchant service these many years, and have been knocking about the world in a craft of my own. But she has been wrecked — confound all cyclones ! — and being too poor to buy another I wish to borrow the Carmen. I saw her some years ago at Plymouth, and learned that she belonged to you. It will be worth your while to let me have her for twelve months or so, as I wish to use her for an expedition, which means money to us both. You were always a stay-at-home, so I suppose you will not care to come with me on a perilous voyage, the like of which has not been heard of this century. I'll pitch my yarn when we meet ; so, if you are inclined to oblige an old friend, send an invitation to the above address, and I'll hoist sail for Devon in twenty-four hours. " Yours as ever, "Tom Flick."

I could hardly finish this extraordinary epistle for laughter, and Harry choked and sputtered over his breakfast in a most disgraceful manner. Bertha alone looked rather vexed. The brusque tone of the communication was not to her taste. "What a rude letter," she said with calm disapproval. " He has not seen papa for nearly forty years, yet he proposes to call and borrow the Carmen." " Tom Flick is a character, Hal," said I, smiling ; "you should certainly see him." " Egad, I wouldn't miss him for a thousand pounds. I'll call at Quarral Street when I'm in town, and, if I like him sufficiently, I'll bring him down here. You won't mind, Bertha?" "Not at all. But Aunt Chrissy might. Now I come to think of it, I believe I can identify the gentleman as a friend of hers before she was married." " All the more reason she should be glad to see him," said Harry blandly, slyly aware of his aunt's sentimentalism.

" I'm not so sure of that, Harry. It is my belief that this gentleman is'a rejected lover." " Pooh ! Aunt Chrissy must have got over all that sort of thing in forty years. I expect she'il renew the flirtation." "Not if Captain Flick's speech is as uncultivated as his letter." " It's a novelty in the way of letters," said Harry, with a broad grin ; " he's so cock-sure of getting what he asks for." "Will you lend him the boat, Hal ? "My dear old chap, I can't say till I see him. I might." " Then he'll wreck her, as he did his own yacht," said Bertha severely. "Oh no, he won't! I'll be there myself to look after things." " Harry ! A perilous journey. " That's just what I like, Bertha ! " said the young man cheerfully. " If Flick can perform all he promises, I shall certainly let him have the Carmen to further his ends ; but I must go too.

I wonder what he's after," concluded Harry reflectively. " It hints at buried treasure," said I, glancing again at the letter. " Spanish doubloons and treasure ships of the Dons. I can conjecture no other reason for his mention of money." " H'm, perhaps ! However, he wants to sail the boat into strange waters. That is enough for me. I'd follow him to Prester John's kingdom, if there's fighting to do." " But, Harry," expostulated Bertha, as her brother arose, " you had better speak to Aunt Chrissy. She may not like the idea." "Well, I'll go up to her room now, and lay the proposal before her. If she disapproves, I can see Flick in town. But," added Harry, turning as hc was leaving the room, " if Flick is at all a decent sort of chap, and can propose something worth thinking about, I'll go off with him.

Timbuctoo, Manoa, or the Fortunate Isles. It's all one to me — provided there are adventures ahead." " You may never come back." " My dear Bertha, I'm not born to be drowned, or scalped, or roasted. I'll come back as full of lies as Baron Munchausen." And so he walked out of the room, leaving Bertha and myself to finish our breakfast in peace. Although none of us knew it, this was the first step which involved all three in a series of surprising adventures, the like of which have not occurred since Drake went picarooning on the Spanish main. And so do I start this strange and eventful history.

Chapter II

"ROARING TOM." "From London port, to Rio Bay, I've sailed for many a weary clay, To Bristol town, from Frisco's gate, I've shipped as captain, seaman, mate ; But, now my voyages all are o'er, I lie a wreck upon the shore : For here I be, at sixty three, A mariner in misery." SEEING that the coming of Captain Flick was likely to eventuate in the departure of Harry to unknown lands, on an unknown quest, we had much discussion as to what manner of man the tempter might prove to be. Therein we were greatly assisted by Mrs. Barber, who confessed, with many sighs and regretful shakings of the head, that Flick had been a candidate for her hand when she was a West country belle. " Though, indeed," she said reprovingly, " Tom Flick was the wildest of them all." " How many were there, Aunt Chrissy?"

"Nine, my dear, and one would have made me a countess. But, indeed," resumed Mrs. Barber, with a sigh, "I preferred a commoner. Poor Francis — it is fifteen years, next Christmas, since he left me a widow! So Tom is coming here again. Dear! dear! It seems like yesterday when he went away." "Is he handsome, Aunt Chrissy?" asked Bertha with true feminine curiosity. " He was very handsome, my dear ; but rough in speech and manner." " So I should think, judging from his letter," observed I dryly. " As a young man, he often came here," continued Aunt Chrissy, " and your father was greatly attached to him. It was quite a Damon and Pythias friend ship." " Oh, aunty ! when he did not write to papa for nearly forty years." " My dear, that was all my fault. Tom proposed, and I refused. He was so masterful and domineering, that I could not bring myself to marry him.

He quarrelled with your father on my account, and so we saw him no more. Forty years," sighed the old lady, " quite a lifetime ! I wonder what he is like now." "As domineering as ever," said I, remembering the language in which the letter was couched. " He demands rather than begs for the Carmen" C "Why does he want the yacht?" asked Mrs. Barber anxiously. "I cannot say. He reserves such information for a personal interview." " I hope it is for none of his wild schemes, my dears. Tom was always full of visionary and ridicu lous ideas. It was no use arguing with him, for he bellowed every one down. 'Roaring Tom,' they used to call him in my young days." "And Roaring Tom he is still," said Bertha, smiling. " I am sure I shan't like the creature. Probably he is Caliban and Falstaff in one." "No, my dear Bertha," replied Mrs. Barber, annoyed by this reflection on her taste in swains, " if Tom is at all his old self, you will like him as much as I did.

He was the most charming of men — a trifle imperious and noisy, but intensely fascinating." And, in proof of this assertion, Aunt Chrissy pro ceeded to detail certain episodes of that old romance in which she had figured with Flick. From her reminiscences, it would seem that the man was some what eccentric, with a liking for wild schemes and impossible adventures. That his proposed expedition might be one of the like nature was highly probable ; and, privately, both Bertha and myself were minded to find it so visionary as to be impossible of fulfilment. We did not approve that Harry should throw away his life in realizing the vain fancies of a hot-headed dare-devil ; yet, knowing the lad's predilection for difficulties and dangers, we had but small hope of staying him in the adventure. Bertha, especially, was certain that the result would be other wise than we wished.

" It will be all settled by the time they arrive here," said she prophetically, " and Harry will dance in with the information that he leaves for Timbuctoo or the Orinoco next week." "But that is impossible. He must wait for our wedding." " What is our wedding in his eyes, compared with the chance of fraternizing with savages ? He won't stay, Denis ; and who will give me away if he is absent ? " "My dear," I answered jokingly, "in default of the necessary male relative, we will employ Aunt Chrissy. But you need not anticipate the worst, as yet. After all, Harry has not even written to advise us that he intends to bring Captain Flick." " Oh, he'll arrive, Denis, I am certain ; and take Harry with him on this horrid expedition." " In that case we must induce the captain to renew his addresses to Mrs. Barber.

The influence of love may keep him in England." But, indeed, our fears were — for the present — groundless ; for when Harry returned, with Flick, no mention was made of the proposed expedition. At their first meeting, as I afterwards learned, the astute seaman had refused to unfold his schemes, or to commit himself to a course of action ; alleging, and not without reason, that he had yet to assure himself of Harry's qualities, before interesting him in a plan which required confidence, prudence, and daring for its fulfilment. " I'll have no young hotheads at my heels," said Roaring Tom, when pressed for an explanation. " Wait till I've taken stock of you for a week or so, and I'll let you know what I think. If you prove a lad of mettle, why, I'll tell you what's in my mind ; but if I don't take t' ye, there's no more to be said."

" Save this," retorted Harry smartly, " that if I don't go, you may whistle down the wind for my yacht." Flick was in nowise offended by so blunt a reply ; for, candid himself to the verge of rudeness, and often beyond, hc encouraged the same license in others. In his own mind he was more impressed with the qualifications of Harry than he judged prudent to admit at so early a stage of their acquaintance. The overflowing spirits of the young man, his temerarious disposition and ardent love of adventure, recommended him to one in whom the same characteristics, qualified by experience, were to be found. Moreover, Harry's splendid physique, and abnormal strength were likely to be of inestimable service in the straits into which Flick apprehended they might fall. If, then, with these advantages, were combined a steady head and a cool judgment, the captain had little doubt but that the matter would terminate in a mutual arrangement to realize the daring scheme which he had in his mind.

With a view therefore to study the disposition of his proposed colleague, under advantageous circumstances, Flick gladly accepted an invitation to pass a week in the country ; and with his baggage in charge of an ugly little negro — of whom more here after — he put himself aboard at Paddington with his host. The greater part of that journey was occupied in Harry asking, and Flick baffling, questions con cerning the hinted mystery of the letter which had brought them together. Needless to say Roaring Tom, who was as dogged as a mule and cunning as a fox, came off victorious ; and Harry arrived at Barnstaple without being a wit the wiser concerning that which had taken him to London. These details were reported to me by Harry when we waited dinner and Captain Flick in the drawing-room. Aunt Chrissy and Bertha were also present, both curious to see the man of whom Harry had made so strange a report.