Sibyl Falcon. A study in romantic morals ... Illustrated by H. Piffard

Front matter

SIBYL FALCON MORRISON' AND OIBR, PRINTERS RDINBUROH The Crew of the Hiwk stood watching the Burning Ship Frontispiece Page SIBYL FALCON A STUDY . . . IN ROMANTIC MORALS . . . . R, EDGAR JEPSON ILLUSTRATED BY HAROLD PIFFARD LONDON : TOWER PUBLISHING COMPANY LIMITED . . . . 95, MINORIES, E. I895 . . . All Rights Reserved TO MY WEST INDIAN FRIENDS IN MEMORY OF "THE TIMES THAT WERE" CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE I. HOW EALPH ALEESFORD WENT INTO THE WORLD . . 1 II. HOW EALPH FELL INTO LOW COMPANY . . .20 III. HOW EALPH WENT TO SEA IN THE " HAWK " . . 31 IV. HOW RALPH SAILED TO MISTY ISLAND IN THE " HAWK " . 45 V. HOW SIBYL FALCON OBJECTED TO NEW FACES . . 62 VI. HOW EALPH SET ABOUT SPANISH AND FENCING . . 77 VII. HOW GREEK MET GREEK IN THE BAHAMA SEA . . 90 VIII. THE COEOMANTEE GOES A-HUNTING .... 106 IX.

THE COEOMANTEE'S AMULET . . . . .115 X. HOW SIBYL FLESHED HEE MAIDEN SWORD . . . 133 XI. HOW SIBYL FELL INTO LOW COMPANY . . .153 XII. SIE EALEIGH TEADES IN BULLION WITH A SPANISH CORVETTE 165 XIII. OLD FRIENDS AND OLD ENEMIES MEET, AND COME TO MISTY ISLAND ....... 176 XIV. OLD FEIENDS AND NEW FEIENDS DISAGEEE . . .199 XV. HOW ACHILLE LAFITTE CAME TO MISTY ISLAND . .211 XVI. THE TURNING OF THE LUCK . . . . .224 Contents VIII CHAP. PAGE XVII. SIBYL CHOOSES A NEW CAPTAIN .... 238 XVIII. THE BAD LUCK HOLDS ...... 252 XIX. THE QUEST OF THE QUEEN'S EMEEALDS . . . 268 XX. THE PEICE OF THE EMEEALDS ... . 290 XXI. HOW THEY FOUGHT THE LAST FIGHT . . , 303 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. — ♦ — THE CREW OF THE HAWK STOOD WATCHING THE BURNING SHIP Frontispiece SMASHED THE BRANDY BOTTLE IN A THOUSAND PIECES ON HIS HEAD 26 "YOU HAD FAR BETTER COME WITH ME TO THE WEST INDIES," SAID SIR RALEIGH TO BYRON . . . . . .32 HE PLUNGED HIS KNIFE INTO THE HUGE BACK . . .114 RALPH GRAPPLING WITH THE MAROONS .... 150 MAEINA STRANGLING ELSIE ...... 207 THE SILENT OEOVES ....... 279 SIBYL FALLING IN THE LAST FIGHT ..... I SIBYL FALCON.

Chapter I. How Ralph Alresford Went Into The World

N" a bright morning, when the century was still in its teens, Kalph Alresford stood rattling the garden gate of Fosdyke Rectory. Now and again he strode a few impatient stepsup and down the road, with an upright carriage and easy swing that rather gave the lie to the look of fatuous indolence on his face, pro duced by his for ever half-closed eyes and good-natured mouth. He came back, rattled the gate again, leaned over it, lifted it off its hinges, and put it on again, showing a length of arm, as he did it, disproportionate even to his tall figure. Then he whistled a few bars of a tune, and broke off impatiently. The rector, his tutor, had done with him for the day, and he was waiting for the rector's daughter to go up to the Grange with him and bring away a puppy he had been keeping for her.

At last, losing patience, he cried,. in a clear, strong voice— " Are you ever coming, Elsie ? " " Yes, I'm coming," answered a girl from an upper window. " What impatient things boys are ! " " Boys, indeed ! " muttered Kalph ; " I'll pay you out for that, young madam." Presently his eyes brightened, as a pretty blue-eyed girl, with wavy brown hair, came demurely down the garden path. Three months before, she would have rushed down the stairs the moment she heard the study door open ; possibly, even, have come sliding down the banisters into his ready arms. But three months at a fashionable school at Bath had invested her with too great a dignity for such boisterous action. Ralph, indeed, in spite of the fact that they had plighted their troth when she was ten and he twelve, had much ado to conceal the new shyness with which she inspired him.

They set out down the road, the sun turning Balph 's curls — worn somewhat long, after the fashion of the time — to gold, _md throwing golden streaks among her darker hair. She walked leisurely, her face bright with the knowledge that she was wearing a most becoming gown ; while he walked with a listless, dragging step, utterly out of keeping with his reputation of being one of the most promising young riders and shots in the county. No London dandy could have worn a more lackadaisical air. But his lazy, half-closed eyes did not miss one of the ever-changing expressions on his com panion's face. " Well, my affected young madam," he began, in a jeering drawl, " what are all these flounces and furbelows f or ? Do you wish the ball-room cleared out that you may dance a minuet?" " Dance a minuet in this gown, indeed !

It's a morning gown. But there, what can a boy be expected to know of the mode ? " said Elsie contemptuously. " Ah, then, it's to charm Uncle Dick ? " said Ralph. " I'm not going to the Grange if your Uncle Dick is at home," said Elsie, stopping short. "Why not? "said Ralph. " He looks at me so oddly," said Elsie. " Not but what he says some vastly pretty things to me." _ " I should like to hear him," said Kalph, with a sudden grimness. " Why, you silly boy, what has it to do with you ? " " I won't have anyone say pretty things to you but myself," said Ralph. " I shall have to wait a long time for them, then," said Elsie. " Shall I go to London and take lessons ? " said Ralph. " It would be well," said Elsie. " The London beaux have a very pretty air. You might, indeed, invent them, only you are so lazy.

It's a pity ; and my father was saying, only last night, that, as it was, you knew more classics than he did, and if you would only work, you might become a great scholar." " Impossible," said Ralph. " It is contrary to all family tradition. No Alresford ever had any brains since the days of Canute." " You're a most provoking creature," said Elsie. " Why in the world do you go to Oxford if you aren't going to make the best of it ? " "I only go to Oxford because Uncle Charles can't spare me away from him to go into the army," drawled Balph. " Yes, you ought to go into the army," said Elsie. " All men ought to be soldiers. But there, you are too lazy to care even about that. I liked you better years ago, when you wanted to go to sea and be a Viking like your ancestors. You did care about things then."

Balph shrugged his shoulders, and they strolled on silently for a while, then he said — " I quarrelled with Uncle Dick last night." " You're always quarrelling with your Uncle Dick, and it's very unbecoming in you." " Well, I don't find the airs of these Londoners pretty. He shouldn't have angered me by sneering at Uncle Charles. He was mocking at him for a simpleton, saying that every one cheated him, and that in other hands the property would bring in twice the rent. But it's not simplicity at all ; and I believe that by his generous treatment Uncle Charles gets more out of his tenants than anyone hereabouts." He spoke with positive animation. " Why did he jeer at him ? " said Elsie. " Old Smith brought his rent, and Uncle Charles remitted half of it because the old fellow was unlucky with his hay.

They've been on the farm this hundred years, and it is good policy to encourage them to dress the land well. These Londoners affect to despise us country folks, but all the while they have the mean spirit of shopkeepers." " And what did you say ? " said Elsie. " Oh, I said that Uncle Charles knew his business best, and it was a shame to be hard on old tenants who had farmed the land well these many years. Thereupon he called me an impertinent young jackanapes, and said that if he were my guardian he would have me taught a proper respect to my elders. I said I was fortunate in that he wasn't my guardian. Then he called me a penniless beggar, and said enough money had been wasted on me to bring up a dozen boys ; that I ought to be in an office earning my own livelihood. I said I wasn't going to turn tradesman to suit his pleasure.

Then Uncle Charles came in, and we stopped. If anyone cheats Uncle Charles, it is he. He is always borrowing money from him, and he never pays." "You were certainly very disrespectful," said Elsie. " But is your Uncle Dick at the Grange ? " " No, they are both abroad, riding. Uncle Charles would ride Godolphin, though I tried to dissuade him from it. That horse is as full of tricks and temper as an egg is of meat. But Uncle Charles is so obstinate." "You, needn't call anyone obstinate. You're the most obstinate creature that lives," said Elsie. " If I'm so lazy, I can't be obstinate," said Balph. The Grange came suddenly into view as they reached the top of the ridge — a large, old gabled house, with great diamond-paned, oriel windows and huge chimney-stalks. The lawns in the garden were covered with turf a century old, and about them stood great cedars, at least no younger.

The trim, gravelled walks were bordered by yew and box, cut into stiff, fantastic shapes, and the ivy threw into relief the time and weather darkened red of the walls. Balph's eyes, as always, rested fondly on it ; he thought it the most beautiful place in the world. They crossed the garden, passed through the stables, and came into a yard full of kennels, where the dogs greeted them with a chorus of yelping and barking. Among them Elsie forgot for a while her dignity, in petting her favourites, and teasing those she disliked, while her puppy, in a gay new collar, with her name on it, delighted her hugely. It was taken into a quiet part of the garden, and performed the tricks it had learned, while its mistress ate apples with infinite appreciation. When it had finished its performance, Kalph, who was sitting beside her on a garden-seat, said suddenly, " And now for my reward."

" What reward ? " said Elsie, looking supremely innocent, and beginning to blush violently. " You promised me a kiss for every month I kept the puppy ; three months, three kisses," said Ralph. " I am surprised at you, Ralph," she replied, in a freezing tone. " I'm too old for such nonsense. It was very different before I went to school. I was only a child then." She had been debating those kisses in her mind all the morning, and had firmly resolved not to pay them. " I'm not too old," said Ralph. " Oh, you're only a boy," said Elsie. " Well, you promised, you know." " But it was so different then." " Give me that puppy, then," said Ralph sadly. " Oh, you are mean," said Elsie, in great trouble — " such a dear little puppy ! " Suddenly Ralph's eyes opened wide ; in a flash his arm was round her waist, her hands gripped, and he drew her to him struggling, and took his three kisses with the most pro voking deliberation.

" You horrid, rough boy ! " she cried. " Suppose somebody saw us ! " and she looked fearfully round with scarlet face. " Oh, nobody saw us," he said reassuringly. Thereat, with great swiftness, she dealt him a sound box on the ear, and said vindictively, " I hate you ! I declare I'll never speak to you again ! " and, springing up, walked off with her head in the air. Ralph got up and strolled after her, entirely unabashed ; he held that the kisses were really his, and that it was only fair that he should have his own. Besides, he knew that Elsie's wrath was always shortlived. They had nearly reached the wicket before he spoke ; then he said artfully, " You strike very heavily, Elsie." " I'm very glad," she said. " But they were mine after all, you know." " Don't you speak to me, you ill-mannered, rude boy !

" Balph opened the wicket, and made as though he would accompany her down the lane. " You are not to come," she said. " I prefer my own company. " All right," said Ralph ; " I'm going down the long meadows this afternoon ; there are several coveys in them, and I mean to get two or three brace. Will you come ? I won't go too far or too fast for you." Elsie was not very angry now, and was recovering the offence to her fine ladyhood, but at this cool ignoring of her injuries her wrath flamed up again, and she cried, " As if I would ever walk out with you again ! " " Are we to say goodbye for ever, then ? " said Ralph mournfully. " Yes," said Elsie coldly. "It would not be becoming for two such old friends as we are to part for ever without a farewell kiss," said Ralph. " Certainly not. We aren't friends any longer," said Elsie, retiring precipitately to the further side of the road.

A distant rattle of hoofs, drawing swiftly nearer, resolved itself into a clattering gallop, put an end to their talk, and brought Elsie within the shelter of the wicket. A riderless horse came galloping past, and Ralph cried, in a tone of con sternation, " Uncle Charles has been thrown ! Do you run round to the stables, and bid them send the phaeton, while I go and see if he's hurt." " Very well," said Elsie, and ran across the garden, while Ralph went down the road at a swinging trot. He had gone a mile and a bit before he came upon the object of his search. There, by a heap of stones, lay his Uncle Charles, and above him stood his Uncle Dick, gnawing at his nails, with pale, scared face. " The brute's killed him," he said, as Ralph came up. " No, no ! " said Ralph breathlessly, and threw himself on his knees beside the body, and called the dead man by name.

Then he put his hand above his heart. There was no movement. The doctor had been, and pronounced that Sir Charles had fractured his skull. The curtains were drawn across all the windows, the servants were loudly lamenting their dead master, and Ralph wandered restlessly about, sick and stunned, and trying to realise his loss by repeating to himself again and again, "Uncle Charles is dead." Dinner was a gloomy meal. The sight of his Uncle Dick at the head of the table, in the place of the kindly presence of his Uncle Charles, brought his loss home to Ralph as nothing else had done, and he choked upon his food. The old butler Simmons spilt the wine, and fumbled with the plates, with trembling hands ; Sir Richard Fosdyke sat silent, anxious, and preoccupied, and his handsome, battered face wore a dark, doubting look when his eyes rested on his nephew.

The regret for his brother was passing away with the crowd of faint memories of their common boyhood, and he was considering the new position to which this sudden stroke of fortune had raised him. The life of a man of pleasure, in an age when men took their pleasures unscrupulously, had hardened his nature, already hard in the grain, and increased a great natural selfish ness to the extreme. He had learnt early, and with ease, to be as unscrupulous in securing his ends as the men with whom he associated. Whatever good instincts he had ever had, had grown feeble for lack of exercise, and were sinking swiftly back to the repose from which the shock of his brother's death had for a brief space awakened them. He was weary, he thought, of the pleasures of town, and felt a strong desire to avail himself of this unexpected chance, and settle down to the quiet life of a country gentleman.

But he owed ten thousand pounds, and to pay it must encumber the estate, and live, fur at any rate some years, in a style but little to his liking. It would have been so different, had not his brother, in his infatuation for Ralph, saved a large sum of money, and left it to him in his will. That cub, as he always called him, would be a rich man, and the thought was bitter to him. He had injured the mother, and he hated the boy. When Caroline Fosdyke had made a runaway match with Captain Alresford, in defiance of the commands and threats of her father, and to the destruction of his cherished plan to marry her to a neighbour whose estate marched with his own, her brother Richard had worked on the gouty old man's temper, till he carried out his threat of disinheriting her, and had profited by her disinheritance to the amount of half her fortune.

AVhen Captain Alresford fell at Busaco, and his wife came back to the Grange only to die, Richard had by every means tried to prevent his brother's endeavour to make amends for his father's harshness, and had used every effort to overcome his resolve to have the boy to live with him. He had failed, and his failure had filled him with an anger that was not lessened by seeing the boy year by year gaining a greater place in his brother's heart, and by finding that his brother's efforts to make him a generous provision tightened his purse-strings, until it had come to this, that the boy would have thirty thousand pounds that would otherwise have been his. It was scarcely strange that the long hatred surged up into his eyes now and again when they rested on Ralph. Ralph, for his part, gave no heed to Sir Richard, and as soon as dinner was over went off to bed.

He was ashamed of showing his grief, and ashamed of being ashamed of it. There he tossed about restlessly, pondering remorsefully over the many occasions on which his self-will had hurt or vexed the dead man. Meanwhile Sir Richard sat on, drinking steadily, and the more he drank the darker grew his face, and the clearer his plan shaped itself before him. At intervals his hand stole almost unconsciously into his pocket, and fingered a bunch of keys. He caught himself wishing it had been more difficult. It did not seem fair to his gambler's instinct that the odds against winning so great a stake should be so small. The execution of his scheme required so little courage ; and with courage half a dozen duels had showed him well provided. Ralph, as he lay sleepless, heard him come to his room ; soon after, the clock struck eleven, and he fell asleep.

He woke, as it seemed to him, in about a couple of hours, with an uneasy feeling that he had been disturbed by something unusual, and, as he sat up listening, caught the sound of stealthy footsteps passing his room. He slipped out of bed, and opening gently his door, saw a dark figure entering his uncle's room. He was about calling out, when the light from within fell upon it, and he saw it was his uncle himself. He went back to bed, and in the morning had forgotten it. On the next day, Mr. Roper, the family lawyer, arrived from London. He was a somewhat testy old gentleman, who every year came down for a week's shooting, during which he lost no opportunity of snubbing Ralph. Ralph, in his indolent good nature, and suspecting the old gentle man of a real liking for him, bore it with careless good humour, and rather took pleasure in accompanying him shooting and in getting him good sport.

An examination of the dead man's papers disturbed the lawyer greatly ; the will was nowhere to be found. He questioned the butler, Sir Richard, and Ralph, and ransacked the whole house, but to no purpose; no will was forthcoming. The days to the funeral dragged on slowly. Ralph still wan dered restlessly about, stealing for a few minutes at times to the side of his dead uncle, and finding his greatest relief in going down to the Rectory, where Elsie and her mother, seeing how greatly it comforted him, encouraged him to talk for hours about Sir Charles. A crowd of the neighbouring gentry came to the funeral, and they showed great sympathy for Ralph, who was very popular among them. When it was over, some of the intimates of Sir Charles came in, as a matter of course, to hear the reading of the will ; two of them, indeed, had agreed to act as executors, and trustees of Ralph's fortune When they were assembled in the library, Mr. Roper told them that the will was not forthcoming, and they must presume that Sir Charles had seen fit to destroy it ; conse quently Sir Richard, as next-of-kin, was heir to everything.

They were loud in their expressions of surprise, their suggestions to Mr. Roper as to the whereabouts of the will, and their condolences to Ralph. He, indeed, thanked them very quietly, and said very little, being too full of grief at the burial of his uncle to give thought to the money. Indeed, he had always been so well provided with it that he valued it very little. Their congratulations to Sir Richard were cold, for he was reputed in the country to be a tiger, and had never made any secret of his contempt for them. Before they left they made Ralph a proffer of their services, promised to interest themselves on his behalf, and invited him to make his home with them when he liked, and for as long as he liked. He gave them proper thanks for their offers, but his independence was chafed by them.

He began all at once to realise that he was a beggar, and before Mr. Roper went away had a long talk with him about his future. He first of all told him of Sir Richard's nocturnal prowling on the night of Sir Charles's death, for it had begun to assume a very suspicious complexion to his mind. After questioning him closely about it, the lawyer bade him keep it to himself. Then he offered to put him in the way of learning the management of an estate, saying that he esteemed him most suited to become the steward of some nobleman, and most likely to be happy in that occupa tion. First of all, he said he would try and prevail upon his uncle to buy him a commission. But Ralph said he would be beholden to his uncle for nothing ; further than that, he would stay on at the Grange as long as suited his convenience.

Mr. Roper somewhat hastily warned him against cherishing ill-will to his legal guardian, and holding suspicions for which there was but little ground. Without pledging himself to consideration for his uncle, Ralph turned the subject by telling the lawyer that there was another alternative before him. Among the few things that had come to him from his dead father was a letter, charging him that if ever he fell into trouble to seek the aid of his old friend and fellow-soldier, Sir Raleigh Falcon, and assuring him that it would be given him heartily. This bidding, he said, he meant to obey. The lawyer took the letter and read it carefully, shaking his head. Then he said that he feared that Ralph was but trusting to a broken reed ; that Sir Raleigh Falcon was a man of wild and unsettled life, of broken fortunes, and but rarely in Eng land.

"Still," said Ralph, "it is the only injunction my father has laid upon me; and if I am in real need of a friend, I must obey it." Mr. Roper assented with some hesitation ; and, after some argument, Ralph agreed to await the opportunity of learning the management of an estate. The next morning the lawyer left for London. The days that followed were fruitful in lessons to Balph. He found that those who had been fullest of respect to the reputed heir of thirty thousand pounds, could now be barely civil to him, as if they grudged the respect already accorded. The very servants, though they had a liking for him for his good temper and generosity, showed a difference ; they had contemplated changing to his service, did Sir Richard's prove unpleasant to them, and they were disappointed at the loss of a possible refuge.

Mrs. Featherstone, Elsie's mother, hurt him most. Acting on a remark of Sir Richard's, that Elsie was far too charming a young lady to have her chances of a good settlement in life jeopardised by a foolish attachment to a penniless boy of a character so indolent, and withal so stubborn, as to prevent any success in the world, she gave Ralph a cold welcome to the Rectory, and when he was slow to see her wishes, told him outright that she desired he would not pester her daughter with attentions which were obnoxious to her parents. At the same time she forbade Elsie to walk or talk with him. Ralph's feelings were not. in truth, very deeply concerned in the matter. Elsie's absence at school had not greatly strengthened the ties between them. But his pride was mortified and his sense of justice outraged by the pro ceeding.

The world had always treated him so well and made so much of him, that the change in its demeanour incensed him beyond measure, and a great bitterness and distrust began slowly to awake in him. His indolent way of bearing himself enabled him to endure the coldness and slights with well-feigned indifference. But at times his gorge would rise against it all, and his indignation flame out. He made, too, the natural mistake of confounding the friends of himself with the friends of his lost fortune, and estranged them by avoiding them, and by receiving their advances with a coldness that was almost contemptuous. He even took it for granted that Elsie acquiesced in her mother's decree, whereas she had broken into open rebellion, and declared she would be kinder than ever to him now that he was in trouble.

But at their next chance meeting he had treated her with so great a coldness and contempt, that her pride got the better of her kindliness for him, and she declared she would never again lay herself open to his injurious misunderstanding. Meanwhile his uncle's aversion from him grew greater and greater, embittered by the sense of having injured him again, and the consideration that her liking for Balph blinded Elsie to his own good qualities. Nor was it lessened by the sullen scorn which Ralph displayed towards him without any dis guise. The neighbours, too, aggravated it by the reluctance they showed to admit him to their society, and he knew that they did not scruple to say among themselves that he knew what had become of the lost will. He at last said to him self that this could not go on ; that the boy had always been a stumblingblock in his path, and was plainly a stumblingblock still ; that out of sight was out of mind, and the boy once gone they would soon forget him and the will too.

Besides, Ralph's gloomy face at meals — they avoided one another carefully at other times — was abhorrent to him, and he loathed the very sight of him. His mind once made up, he lost no time in casting about for means of disposing of him at a distance ; and resolved to break his spirit, even if he had to strain his powers as his guardian to the utmost. In that unsettled time it was not difficult for a man with money to dispose of a person obnoxious to him, and in the prosecu tion of his intrigues he had come across the agents who effected such disappearances, and availed himself of their services. But he decided it would be as well to provoke him to an open outburst first, and easily hit upon a method. Ralph came into the stables one morning, and found his uncle standing with the horsedealer of the neighbouring town of Lauriston, while a groom was parading before them his own horse Saladin, a birthday gift from his Uncle Charles.

Seeing what was toward, he went up to them with a flame of rage in his heart, and said to Sir Richard, " What is your business with Saladin ? " " No business of yours, that I can see. I'm selling him," said Sir Richard. " But Saladin is mine ; Uncle Charles gave him to me." "Nonsense," said Sir Richard; "that you had the use of him does not make him yours." " But he is mine ; Uncle Charles gave him to me." " I don't believe it, and I shall certainly sell him," said Sir Richard. Ralph lost control of his rage, and cried, " Very well ; you robbed me of my money, you may as well rob me of my horse ! " " What do you mean ? " said his uncle furiously, and gripped his shoulder. " Hands off! " cried Ralph, so fiercely that his uncle loosed him and stepped back. They glared at one another a full minute, then Sir Richard said to the dealer, " I accept your offer, Hobson.