Trust-money. A novel

Front matter

TRUST-MONEY NEW NOVELS AT ALL LIBRARIES, THE IVORY GATE. By Walter Besant. 3 vols. BOB MARTIN'S LITTLE GIRL. By D. Christie Murray. 3 vols. THE MARQUIS OF CARABAS. By Aaron Watson and LlLLIAS W'ASSERMANN. 3 Vol.S. TREASON-FELONY. By John Hill. 2 vols. A SOLDIER'S CHILDREN. By John Strange Winter. 1 vol. THE AMERICAN CLAIMANT. By Mark Twain, i vol. THE DOWNFALL. By Emile Zola. Translated by Ernest A VlZETELLY. I vol. MY FLIRTATIONS. By Margaret Wyn.man. i vol. THE OLD MAID S SWEETHEART. By Alan St. Ahbyn. 1 vol. MAID MARIAN AND ROBIN HOOD. By J. E. Muddock. I vol. A ROMANCE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. Ey William Hurrell Mallock. i vol. London: CHATTO & WINDUS, Piccadilly, W. TRUST- MONEY 2\ "gloncl BY WILLIAM WESTALL AUTHOR of 'the old factory,' 'red ryvington,' 'the l'hantom city,' 'two pinches of snuff,' f.tc.

IN THREE VOLUMES VOL. II. ii. on Do u CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY Copyrighted in the United States by J. W. Lovell Company. CONTENTS OF VOL. II. CHAPTER PAGE I. HER AMERICAN COUSIN 1 n. Charlie's somersault 28 III. ' MY LITTLE HUNTER ' - - - 44 IV. LILLYWHITE SMELLS A RAT 54 V. EVIL TIDINGS ------ 72 VI. AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE 90 vn. edward's dilemma - 109 vni. olive's design 125 IX. EDWARD SCORES AND OLIVE SCHEMES - 137 X. TRIED AND FOUND WANTING - - - 154 XI. A FAMILY DIFFERENCE - 173 XII. AT WHITEBEACH ----- 19Q XIII. THE FAIRIES' TRYST - - - - 206 XIV. A CATASTROPHE 223 XV. A SUMMONS FROM THE SEA - - - TRUST-MONEY

Chapter I. Her American Cousin

When it was finally decided that Mr. Prince should go to Trinidad, and his passage was taken, and the day of his departure drew near, Mrs. Prince began to waver in her opinion as to the expediency of the under taking ; and cruel doubts assailed her mind. The voyage might do him good, the result ing gain would be very satisfactory — all to the g-ood, as Mr. Prince had several times observed — but the way was long, the seas were treacherous, and shipwrecks, alas ! only too common. It was hardly possible to VOL. II. TRUST-MONEY 2 open a newspaper without reading of some fresh disaster. What if disasters were to overtake him ? What if the ship in which he was to sail should be lost ? She would never foro-ive herself for allowing him to go. The mere thought filled her with anguish ; and had she not confided her misgivings to Mrs. Lincoln, she would probably have made an effort to prevent her husband from implementing the agree ment which she herself had sanctioned.

Mrs. Lincoln, who had a cheery manner and a sympathetic nature, comforted her friend with kindly words. ' Danger !' she said. ' Do you know, I believe there is no more danger at sea than on land. I have crossed the Atlantic twenty times, and I don't believe I was ever in more danger than I am at this moment. And there is less danger in a voyage to the West Indies than to New York. In going south you encounter neither icebergs nor fogs ' (she wisely said nothing of earthquakes and cyclones). ' Once out of European waters, you are sailing in summer seas. You leave winter and hard weather behind you, and have nothing to do but read novels and bask in the sun. The voyage will do your husband all the good in the world ; he will have a real good time, and come back looking ten years younger. He needs a change.

He has been looking very fagged lately, don't you think ?' ' I don't think he is looking quite so well as he used to do.' ' It is a longtime since he has looked as well as he did when I first knew him. It is all this dreadful lawsuit ! Merely to think of it makes my headache. No wonder, with such a weight on his mind, he looks ill. But don't worry. The voyage will set him all right. And don't damp his spirits by losing your own. Let him go away cheerful, whatever you do.' Mrs. Prince, who had an uneasy feeling TRUST-MONEY 4 that the cause of her husband's fagged looks lay much deeper than any lawsuit, took this advice in good part. She also allowed Mrs. Lincoln to dissuade her from accompanying her husband to Southampton, as she had intended. It would only make them both ' feel bad,' said her friend, and serve no useful purpose.

So Charlie accom panied him instead ; and after an affectionate though not painful parting with his wife, Mr. Prince ' went away cheerful ' — at any rate, looking cheerful. But he was worn out with anxiety and work, and the train was no sooner in motion than he leaned back in his corner and slept; dreaming of Jack, who, since the interview with Lillywhite, had been much in Mr. Prince's mind. Despite the incredulity which he had avowed, and at the same time felt, touching the clerk's statement, he could not rid himself of a suspicion that it might be true after all. It was conceivable that Jack had returned to Peele, disguised as a tramp, and that, his courage failing him at the last moment, he went away without making himself known. When Mr. Prince awoke he began to talk to Charlie on the subject which was upper most in his thoughts. ' Do you ever think of Jack ?' he asked abruptly.

Charlie, startled by the unexpected question, and feeling rather guilty, admitted that he did sometimes think about his eldest brother. ' He behaved very ill ; nearly broke our hearts, in fact,' said Mr. Prince sadly ; ' but that is no reason why he should be entirely forgotten. ' And then he told the strange tale of the tramp whom Lillywhite, taking him for Jack, had followed to Holmcroft, and his supposed recoo-nition by Turnbull, the leather-seller ; asking Charlie, in conclusion, whether he had ever heard of a more palpable case of mistaken identity. TRUST-MONEY 6 This put Charlie in a dilemma. He had agreed with Edward to keep Jack's visit secret ; but not telling something was a very different matter from telling a lie, especially to his father, who had always treated him with loving confidence, and to whom he had never lied even when he was a small boy. ' Did you ever know a more palpable case of mistaken identity ?' repeated Mr. Prince.

Still Charlie hesitated. ' Why don't you answer ? You surely don't think ' ' I cannot tell you a lie, father. The tramp Lillywhite saw was Jack. He came to Holmcroft.' ' Came to Holmcroft ! How ? Good heavens ! how did it happen, and why were we not told ?' ' Ned — we thought it would only make you and mother unhappy, and do no o-ood ; and if we had taken him into the house the servants might have suspected something. He was in such a state — just like a common beggar — so we took him in the harness room. He slept there.' ' Well, perhaps you acted for the best,' said Mr. Prince gloomily. ' It would have been bad if the thing had got wind in the town. All the same, I should have been glad to see the lad ; and I take it very un kindly of Ned that he kept me in the dark when I spoke to him the other day.

It was not straightforward. Tell me all about it, Charlie — how he looked, where he had been, and what doing.' Charlie told him ; also that Jack had seen them at prayers through the dining-room window ; also of his vow that he would never touch drink again, nor rest satisfied until he had repaid his father every penny that his misconduct had cost him. ' Jack makes vows with as much facility as he breaks them,' said Mr. Prince bitterly. ' When a man takes to drink he is generally past praying for. God ! what a wasted life !' TRUST-MONEY ' I don't think he was a confirmed drunkard,' put in Charlie eagerly. ' When he wrote to Ned, acknowledging receipt of the money, he said that since leaving Peele he had tasted nothing stronger than water, and never would. I believe Jack will be as good as his word this time, father.' ' You are more sanguine than I am.

If you only knew ' Here Mr. Prince paused. He had been on the point of letting out the secret. ' Yes, father,' said Charlie. ' If you only knew how much your mother and I have suffered because of him, you would understand our feelings. But enough about Jack. Let us talk about yourself. You will stick to the shop while I am away, and give Ned all the help }Tou can ?' ' Of course I will, father. I give }Tou my word.' ' I know you don't take kindly to the law, and I am sorry we did not let you go into the army ; and still more so that we did not let Jack go into the navy. But your mother thought differently, and she had her way. However, use is second nature, and I have no doubt you will end in liking the profes sion as I did myself. And now I am going to give you a word of advice — perhaps the last I ever shall give you.' ' You are surely not growing nervous, father, or having presentiments, or anything of that sort,' interrupted Charlie with a smile. ' Everybody says that the risk of a voyage to Trinidad is well-nigh infinitesimal. ' I was not thinking of the risk — merely of the uncertainty of life in general.

When ever a man goes away for four or five months there is always a possibility that he may never come back.' And the advice ?' ' Is this. It may happen to you in life to have to choose between following the dictates of your conscience and your judg ment — acting, let us say, as if left to yourself it would be your duty to act — and pleasing TRUST-MONEY 10 somebody else, somebody, it may be, whom you are desirous to please and would make almost any sacrifices to serve, and wTho will put great pressure on you. In that case, dear boy, do the right thing, and if you have any doubt, give conscience the benefit of it. It ma}' be hard at the time, but you will be glad afterwards, and you will have nothing to reproach yourself with — and remember that right can never be wrong, nor wronp; riffb-t.' 'o "5 All this was uttered so earnestly, and with so much feeling, that, if the speaker had been anybody but his own father, Charlie might have surmised that he spoke from bitter experience, and in times past had sinned grievously against the light.

He thanked him for his advice, and said that if occasion should arise he would do his best to follow it ; and then the subject dropped. The arrival at Southampton, the trip from the shore to the ship, which lay at her moorings off Netley, the bustle and excite ment on board, raised Mr. Prince's drooping spirits. The day was beautifully fine, and it seemed certain that the voyage would, at any rate, begin well. Charlie went below, inspected his father's state-room, and helped him to arrang-e his thing-s. Then they turned into the saloon, and drank success to the voyage in sparkling moselle. ' I wish I were going with you, father,' said Charlie. ' I should like to go to the West Indies immensely. I have seen next to nothing^ of the world outside Peele.' ' I wish you were, lad,' returned Mr. Prince heartily ; ' but I fear you will have to stay at home this time ; and Peele is not half a bad place.

You might go further and fare worse. Be sure, now, to tell mother I shall write from St. Thomas's, and by every mail afterwards, and let you know betimes when I shall return ; and, if you like, you and she may meet me here. They say the Royal TRUST-MONEY 12 mail steamers arrive almost as punctually as they depart ; so you may know almost to a day when to expect me.' Charlie remained on board to the last moment, and waited alongside until the Otranto cast loose from her moorings ; and as the great paddle-wheels turned round, the father from the taffrail of the steamer, the son from the bows of the boat, waved to each other a last farewell, little doubting that in a few months they should meet again, and foreboding naught of the momen tous consequences which Mr. Prince's voyage would entail on him and his.

As it was too late to g-et back to Peele the same night, Charlie slept in London, and resumed his journey on the following morning. He was in good time at the station, and entered a compartment whose only other occupant was a traveller so deeply absorbed in a newspaper that he did not seem to notice Charlie's arrival. ' Tickets, please, gentlemen,' said a guard, opening the door. ' Where for ? Both for Peele. All right !' Charlie glanced at his companion, who in order to get his ticket had laid down his newspaper. The first glance was followed by a second and a third, for the stranger was a man worth looking at. Charlie guessed him to be twenty-five years old, and six feet high. His shoulders were broad, his limbs long and muscular ; he had bright humorous eyes, which, together with his chestnut hair, fresh colour, smooth skin, and beardless face, gave him, considering his proportions, a singularly youthful appearance.

In dress this gentleman was almost a dandy. His clothes, gloves, and boots fitted to perfec tion, and his shirt-front was lustrous with diamond studs. ' We are bound for the same port, it seems,' he said, as the train moved out of the station, ' and as we are likely to have this box to ourselves all the way, we may TRUST-MONEY 14 as well make ourselves comfortable. You smoke, of course ?' ' Yes.' ' Let us smoke, then.' Whereupon each produced a cigar-case. ' Allow me to offer you one of mine,' said the stranger, whose manner was easy and self-possessed. ' They are superb. Part of a lot of regalias I bought myself in Cuba, and have smuggled through half a dozen Custom-houses. I enjoy a little smuggling. It comes as a pleasant relief after the tedium of a voyage ; a little excitement, you know.' Charlie accepted the offer, and had no reason to regret his choice.

It wTas the finest cigar he had ever smoked. ' You have been to the West Indies, then. I have just been seeing a relative off to Trinidad,' he said. ' I have been there too. A pleasant enough place for a short stay, and gloriously picturesque. I don't think I should like to stay there for the term of my natural life, however. I'm one of your rolling stones.' ' Not with the proverbial result, though, if I may judge by your appearance.' ' Well, I think I have gathered a little moss in more senses than one ' (glancing complacently at his brawny arms and glitter ing studs). ' Six years ago I was nothing but skin and bone, and as poor as a church mouse. And now I am going to ask a question which I hope you will not deem impertinent. Do you live at Peele ?' ' I live in the neighbourhood, and most of my days are spent in the town.' ' Then you will know a place called All Hallows ?' ' Very well, ' And the people who live there — Mrs. Susan Lincoln and her daughter Olive.' ' They are dear friends of ours.' ' In that case we may as well make friends.

Mrs. Lincoln is my cousin, and Paul Coniston is my name.' TRUST-MONEY 16 ' And America your nation?' ' You might have made a worse guess, Mr. Prince, thank you. Don't I look like an American ?' ' My experience of Americans is limited ; but if I may hazard an opinion I should say decidedly not.' ' I see. Your idea of an American is a lantern-jawed lamp-post, with high cheek bones, a sallow skin, and a nasal twang.' ' Not quite so bad as that,' returned Charlie with a laugh. ' But something like ?' ' Well, yes, something. ' And yet, unless you have been in the States, I'll be bound to say that you have not met a score of live Americans in your life.' ' If you mean men, I have not met more than three or four, j-ourself included.' ' I thought so. You should not make old women's deductions, young man.' ' Young man indeed !' quoth Charlie, firing up ; ' I am not much younger than you ave.

In that case you are nearly thirty. You surely don't mean — ' I mean that I am in my thirty-first year. You think I look younger. Well, I dare say I do, and I can tell you the reason why. When I was seventeen I ran away from school, and volunteered for the Mexican war. After that I went overland to California, and for ten years I have lived out West, in one of the finest climates in the world, mostly in the saddle, my drink water — when I could get nothing stronger — my food beef, without vegetables. If I had stopped in Boston, run a store, and chewed tobacco, I dare say I should have borne a faint resemblance to the Yankee of your imagination.' ' You have been a soldier, then ; you have seen active service,' said Charlie, with sparkling eyes. ' What was your rank ?' ' Full private ; then sergeant.

After- VOL. II. IU TRUST-MONEY 18 wards, when we were fighting the Apaches, the boys made me captain. ' In the Mexican war, fighting Indians ! You have been fortunate.' ' I thought so at the end of it all, when I found myself alive, and with my hair on my head,' said Coniston dryly. ' And now I should like to ask you a question or two. One good turn deserves another, you know. The Lincolns, are they well ?' ' Quite.' ' I was sorry to hear of Lincoln's death. Anyhow, he made his pile, and left his wife and daughter in easy circumstances. When a man does that, he may be forgiven for dying, and those he leaves behind have no excuse for being inconsolable. And Olive ? The last time I saw her she was as pretty as a peach. How is she now ? Has she fulfilled the promise of her childhood V ' Quite, I should say.

You will have to go a long way before you find so charming a girl as Olive Lincoln.' ' Has she a sweetheart V This was a poser, but necessity is the mother of invention, and though Charlie coloured up and felt rather warm, he got out of the difficulty better than might have been expected. ' Has she a sweetheart ?' he repeated, with a surprised look, as though the question had startled him by its exceeding novelty. ' I have not heard so, and as she is only just out of mourning^ for her father, I don't think it's likely.' ' Well, she ought to have ; and I'll see whether I cannot find her one before I go back.' ' Confound the fellow ' what does he mean ?' thought Charlie. ' Why, if she were out West,' continued Mr. Coniston — ' if she were out West she would have been the death of two or three tall fellows by this time.

A few years ago when I was on the Rio Colorado with an outfit, a Mexican nina, with a nut-brown skin and big black eyes, as beautiful as TRUST-MONEY 20 Cleopatra she was, used to come over the river in a dug-out, singing and playing the banjo, and with her coquettish ways and her Spanish love-songs she just drove the boys wild ; and though I warned them to give her a wide berth, for those greasers are as treacherous as panthers and as jealous as Turks (they will greet you smiling with one hand and knife you with the other), they must go one night to a fandango where they knew she was to be present. Well, I heard next morning there had been trouble, and when I went to the casino I found four Americanos del Norte stretched like sardines in a box.' ' And what became of the young lady ?' ' Never saw her again.

I expect the caballeros spirited her away — perhaps cut her throat. It is dangerous work courtingr a Mexican nina, I can tell you. There is only one way. You must have your bowie handy and your six-shooter loaded ; and if a greaser sneaks up to you with his hat in his hand and a smile on his face, shoot him down before he has time to draw, and then get the drop on his amigo, for greasers don't often attack unless they are two to one. This is a beautiful country we are travelling through. What is the name of that pretty village with the ivy-clad church ?' Charlie told him, and then Mr. Coniston inquired how soon they should arrive at Peele, and how far it was from the ' deepo ' to All Hallows. Charlie, guessing that he meant station, answered, ' Two miles.' ' That's a long way,' observed Mr. Conis ton ; ' I suppose there are teams to be got V Charlie, who was being rapidly initiated into the niceties of the American language, said that there were always flies in waiting at Peele Station. ' Let us fly it, then.

The only thing I object to is walking. And now, Mr. Prince, I have a great favour to ask of you — I want you to go along to All Hallows and intro duce me !' ' Introduce you ! You don't require TRUST-MONEY 22 introducing. You have only to send in your card, you know.' ' That would let the cat out of the bag, and I want to see whether they will recog nise me. Now, if you go along, you can perhaps take me in as your friend, without giving my name.' Charlie knew that Edward would expect him to call at the office before going home ; but the chance of seeing Olive, and her reception of her surprising cousin, being too good to be lost, he agreed to accompany the gentleman to All Hallows. So at Peele they exchanged the train for a cab. But the horse left a good deal to be desired. ' Call this a fly !' said Mr. Coniston, as they jogged along at the rate of five miles an hour. ' Call this a fly !

I call it a hearse, and slow at that !' However, they arrived in the end. ' Are the ladies at home ?' asked Charlie of the servant who came to the door. ' They are in the south garden, sir, under the mulberry-tree. Shall I announce you and this gentleman V ' No, Thomas ; we will go to them. — This way, Mr. Coniston.' It was a fine old-fashioned English garden, with shrubs cut into shapes, shady walks running at right angles to each other, like the streets of an American town, flower-beds brilliant with tulips and rose-trees ; and an emerald lawn, in the middle whereof grew a wide-spreading mulberr3T-tree, laden with purple fruit. Under its branches were two rocking-chairs, in one of which sat Mrs. Lincoln knitting a stocking, and in the other Miss Lincoln reading a novel. Olive wore a soft, creamy gown and a low crowned sailor hat trimmed with blue, and at her breast were a red rosebud and a sprig of stephan otis.

Her lover thought she was the loveliest thing in all that garden fair, and Mr. Coniston owned to himself that TRUST-MONEY 24 Charlie had in nowise exaggerated her charms. As the two men made towards the mulberry-tree, mother and daughter looked up in surprise, and asked each other who was the stranger. ' I have taken the liberty of bringing with me a friend, who is wishful to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Lincoln,' said Charlie. Coniston took off his hat with a flourish, and, after bowing, raised his head and threw back his long hair, as if to invite inspection. ' I am sure I shall be very glad, but ' ' Dear me ! what am I thinking about ? I have not told you his name,' inter rupted Charlie. ' Mr. Paul Coniston, from the Wild West : Mrs. ' ' Paul Coniston, and I did not know him !' exclaimed Mrs. Lincoln. ' And no wonder ! he is quite another man.

His own mother would not know him.' ' Oh, what a shameful take-in ! This is your doing, Charlie,' said Olive reproach fully. ' Not at all ; it is my doing entirely. I wanted to see whether you would recognise me ;' and with that Mr. Paul took Mrs. Lincoln's hand and kissed her dutifully ; then he put his arm round Olive's waist, and kissed her with cousinly relish, a pro ceeding which Charlie admired so little that he made as though he would take his leave. ' Oh, don't go yet,' said Mrs. Lincoln. ' Stay and have a cup of tea. We don't dine till seven, Paul ; and as you must be hungry, we will have tea here, under the mulberry-tree.' Paul made a slight grimace at the word ' tea,' but said, ' With all my heart '; and a table and chairs were brought, and the tea things set out amid a perfect storm of ques tions and answers. ' So you have not a sweetheart, it seems, TRUST-MONEY 26 Olive ?' observed Coniston, after he had given an account of himself. ' Who says so ?' ' Mr. Prince.

I asked him as we came along.' ' Do you think if I had one I should tell him V returned Olive, glancing archly at her lover. ' Olive, I am surprised !' exclaimed Mrs. Lincoln, bridling. ' I must really beg of you not to put such ideas into the child's head, Paul.' ' I don't think I have, Susan. You may depend they are there already by the light of nature.' ' I should hope not. Olive has been very carefully brought up, let me tell you. She is much too young. It would be quite against her dear father's wish, as expressed in his will ; and I could not permit anything of the sort for at least three years to come.' ' And yet you were engaged at seventeen and married at nineteen ! But you were not an heiress. Snakes ! how circumstances alter cases. Come now, Susan, I'll lay you a thousand dollars to twenty that Olive has a sweetheart before the year is out.' Mrs. Lincoln made a deprecatory gesture, and asked her daughter for another cup of tea.

Chapter II

Charlie's somersault. One day, during Charlie's absence, Edward called at the Beehive to bait his horse and refresh himself. The landlady, a comely woman with a foolish tongue, thinking to do her guest pleasure, made a polite inquiry after Mr. Charles and his sweetheart. ' Sweetheart ! What on earth do you mean, Mrs. Marigold ? He has no sweetheart.' ' I ask your pardon, sir. I meant the young lady as he called with in April, after the hunting — Miss Lincoln, you know. They had tea in my back-parlour, and walked in the garden, and stopped nearly two hours, and he seemed so loving and she so kind, that I felt sure they was courting. But maybe I was mistaken.' ' Of course you were mistaken. There is nothing of the sort, I assure you, Mrs. Mari gold. Two hours, did you say ?' ' Yes, sir ; I should say quite two hours.' Mrs. Marigold meant well, but she could no more help exaggerating than she could help talking.

Olive and Charlie had not stayed in her house more than an hour, but Edward, though not generally prone to accept uncorroborated statements, fully be lieved her, and he felt very sore. His worst fears were confirmed. Unless they had an understanding — unless, in fact, they were secretly engaged — they would never dawdle two hours over afternoon tea in the parlour of a country inn. ' He was loving and she was kind.' When Edward thought of the love making that doubtless went on in that same parlour, he gnashed his teeth. It was TRUST-MONEY 30 a positive scandal ; it must be put a stop to. But how ? He was always brought up with the ' how.' To tell Mrs. Lincoln might do more harm than good. It would certainlv injure him with Olive ; and, as he had only hearsay to go upon, the story might be dis credited, reference to Mrs. Marigold being, in the circumstances, quite out of the question.

The best plan — if he could only hit upon one — would be to bring the facts to Mrs. Lincoln's knowledge without incurringthe reproach of tale-bearing, or, better still, without appearing in the matter at all. The idea of sending her an anonymous letter was conceived only to be rejected. He would either have to write it himself or get some other body to write it. In the latter event he would put himself in the other body's power ; in the former, his writing might be recognised, and then his second condition would be worse than his first. There seemed nothing for it but to persevere in his policy of watching and waiting. With this unsolved problem in his mind, Edward was naturally not in the best of humours, and when Charlie turned up, shortly before dinner-time, his brother asked him somewhat sharply how he came to be so late. ' I called at All Hallows,' was the answer. ' What on earth for ?