In Strange Company: A Story of Chili and the Southern Seas

Of course I forgave her immediately, and equally of course she promised amendment in the future. But though her liking for his company was not so openly shown as before, I could not see that it had undergone any radical change.

But I had other and more important things than Juanita's behaviour towards myself to think about. I discovered that trouble had cropped up amongst the crew forward, and that on two occasions knives had been drawn. What it had originated in I could not find out, but that a big Kanaka boy, called Rhotoma Jimmy, was at the bottom of it all I had good reason to be certain. He had come aboard in Thursday as a stowaway, and was, I found out, a vindictive, ill-tempered fellow, who never lost a chance of making himself objectionable. When I saw that my rowings proved useless, I ironed him for a couple of days. This seemed to sober him; he became deeply penitent, and thinking I had punished him enough, I let him go back to his duties.

The night following his release, he was at the wheel during my watch. I was not satisfied with his steering, and had occasion to reprimand him twice. A short while afterwards I noticed the same irregularity, and went over to the binnacle, determining this time to give him a good rating. As soon as he saw me coming, he left the wheel, and made for the belaying-pins. Seizing one he rushed at me, and endeavoured to hit me over the head with it. But before he could effect his purpose, I had closed with him, and wrenched it from his grasp, striking him as I did so a blow upon the head. He fell like a log, and as he struck the deck I heard footsteps on the ladder, and the Albino stood beside me.

Calling another man aft to the wheel, I took the binnacle-lamp and knelt beside the prostrate man. To my dismay I found I had bit him harder than I intended. He was dead!

CHAPTER VII

BATAVIA – A STRANGE MEETING

When I realized that the Kanaka boy, Rhotoma Jimmy, was really dead, the shock the discovery gave me may be better imagined than described. I was the last person, I told myself, to take a fellow-creature's life without adequate reason, and if it came to that, I had only struck the man in purest self-defence. Indeed, had I not closed with him, he would undoubtedly have murdered me. It was fortunate, I thought, that the Albino had come on deck in time to witness the conclusion of the affair.

Ordering the body to be taken forrard, I stumped the deck for nearly an hour, endeavouring to make the Albino see how it had happened. His manner struck me as odd; but I was too agitated to attach much importance to that. Among other things, also, I questioned him about the future; I told him that I did not like being so much in his debt, and finally asked him to take the schooner in lieu of payment. He hesitated for a while, and then requested a day or two to think it over. But during the evening he returned to the subject, and stated that he had decided to do what I asked. Thereupon we drew up the necessary documents, and when I had signed them the Mother of Pearl was no longer my property. Little did I see how artfully my ruin had been contrived.

Next morning we were abreast the Java coast; Madura on our starboard bow, Sourabaya away to port. From the latter place to Tanjong Priok, as the seaport of Batavia is called, is but a short run, and the Mother of Pearl, with everything in her favour, was not long in accomplishing it.

As if an omen of the disastrous events which were to befall me during my stay in Java, we sighted the breakwater on a wet, miserable, depressing afternoon. Our moorings were on the left hand of the harbour, just abaft a Dutch man-o'-war, and almost opposite the Custom House. The view was about as cheerless as the day; the soup-coloured sea, slimy wharves, gaunt, wind-tossed trees, made up a picture that was suggestive of cholera, Yellow Jack, and a multiplicity of unknown horrors. There was nothing to detain us on board, so as soon as the necessary formalities had been complied with, Juanita, the Albino, and I went ashore, intent upon visiting the city before we settled our plans for the future.

From the railway-station we drove to the Hôtel des Indes. It was the first time I had been in Java, but the Albino seemed to be familiar with every part of it. It was in keeping with his strange character that he should be thoroughly at home in all the out-of-the-way places of the world. When I said as much to him, he laughed, and gave utterance to one of his odd remarks, to the effect that "Strange dogs must know strange kennels."

In the evening, as soon as dinner was over, Juanita and I passed from the hotel gardens into the broad street which runs alongside the canal. Though the rain had ceased, and it was a perfect night, hardly a soul was abroad. At intervals mysterious watchmen emerged from their shelters to look at us, but finding nothing suspicious in our behaviour, retired into them again. With these few exceptions we had the streets to ourselves. The great round moon, sailing serenely overhead through a cloudless sky, the tropic foliage, lights flashing amid the trees, all combined to produce a scene that was almost fairy-like in its exquisite loveliness. And after the cooping up of shipboard we were both in the mood to appreciate its beauty. Up one road and down another we passed, conversing quietly, until at length we found ourselves upon the King's Plain.

Here I prepared myself to broach the subject of our future. To my surprise, Juanita received my ideas with a peculiar air of fretfulness that on looking back upon now I can easily account for. At the time, however, I remember it caused me a considerable amount of pain.

Under a small tope of trees she stopped, and placing her hand on my arm, said in answer to a speech of mine —

"You are quite right. I fear this is the end of everything for us. When we leave Batavia our ways must lie in different directions."

"You mean," I continued, "because you believe your husband to be still alive?"

She hesitated before replying.

"Yes," she finally answered. But there was something in her voice that made me believe that though she gave it that reason, it was not exactly what was in her mind.

"And what will you do now, Juanita?"

"Endeavour to find that man, and repay him for his treachery. That's what I shall do."

Simple as were her words, I cannot express on paper anything like the ferocity of the tone in which they were uttered. But this mood only lasted a few seconds. Then came the old wail.

"Oh, Jack, Jack! if you only knew; if we could but be our true selves for one little moment!"

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind, you will know soon enough, and, oh, how you will hate me for it! But now, – oh, I cannot, Jack, – I cannot!"

Here she fell to crying, just as she had done on the schooner. It was an exact repetition of her strange behaviour on that eventful night. I did my best to comfort her, and after a long while succeeded. She dried her tears, and we set off upon our homeward walk. Not satisfied with what she had told me, I determined to renew the subject on the morrow.

But the morrow had something of its own in store for me, of which I could not have even the vaguest idea.

When we returned to the hotel, the Albino was smoking in the verandah. After a few commonplaces about the beauty of the night, I went into my room to procure a cigar, leaving Juanita alone with him. As soon as I had obtained a weed and lit it I rejoined them. Through no fault of mine they did not perceive me until I was close upon them. Macklin held a paper in his hand, from which I presumed he had just been reading. Juanita was evidently much put out about something.

"No, no, it's too cruel," she said, "I cannot do it."

To which he replied —

"I tell you, you must. It's all arranged, so don't let me hear any more nonsense about it."

When I coughed to warn them of my presence, both seemed considerably disturbed, though the Albino passed it off with his customary ease.

After they retired to their rooms, I remained in the verandah smoking. Suddenly my eye caught sight of something white upon the ground. Picking it up, I discovered it to be a cablegram from London. It was addressed to Macklin, and ran as follows: —

"Still unclaimed. Come at once. Don't delay."

The signature was a name I had never heard before.

On my way to my room I called in upon him to restore the document, explaining where I had found it. He thanked me civilly enough, and that was the last of the matter for the time.

Breakfast over next morning, I settled myself in an easy-chair beside Juanita in the verandah, and lit a cigar. The Albino was not to be seen, nor had I set eyes on him up to that time. Juanita's behaviour, generally rather strange, was now altogether peculiar. She seemed afraid to look me in the face, and I was in the act of asking her to tell me what was the matter, when she suddenly turned pale, and rising, retired hurriedly into her own apartment. As she disappeared I chanced to look round. A party of Malay police under a Dutch officer were approaching me. The officer held a sheet of paper in his hand. This when he reached my chair he presented, at the same time saying in broken English —

"Ess it you are Jan Ram-say? De captain Mother Pearl sheep?"

Replying to the effect that I was the man he sought, I asked his business, whereupon he said —

"You are arrest, Mynheer, for murder!"

I give you my word I was so astonished you could have knocked me down with a feather. That the warrant, for so I conjectured the paper he held in his hand to be, was for my arrest on a charge of causing the death of the Kanaka Rhotoma Jimmy, I had no doubt; but who could have supplied the information that produced it? How bitterly I blamed myself for delaying to report the matter to the consul! Now it would probably be a matter of some hours before I could free myself.

Seeing that the officer desired me to accompany him, I called Juanita to me, and I shall never forget the look upon her face when she came into the verandah. The officer bowed politely to her.

"Juanita," I said, "I am arrested for the murder of that Kanaka boy. It's only a matter of form, but it will necessitate my leaving you for an hour or so. Tell Macklin what has happened, and ask him to come at once to our consul, that's a good girl."

Thereupon I surrendered myself to the officer, who, to my supreme annoyance, insisted on handcuffing me like a common malefactor. Then the Malay policemen, wretched little fellows but little bigger than monkeys, ranking themselves on either side, and the officer taking the lead, off we set for the lock-up. Here I was detained for nearly an hour, in company with a collection of the vagabond riff-raff of the town, at the end of which time I was handcuffed again, and marched off to the office of the English consul.

On arrival there I was thrust into a small room and allowed to cool my heels for ten minutes or so. After that I was led into a spacious chamber, partaking more of the nature of an office than a court of justice, and placed in what was equivalent to the dock.

An elderly gentleman of dignified appearance, whom I rightly judged to be the consul, sat at a large desk at the further end of the room, busily writing in a book before him. A couple of clerks were ranged at desks hard by, and two or three native policemen lounged near the door. Presently the consul looked up, and intimated that the case should commence.

I was thereupon charged with having wilfully and maliciously caused the death of a native known as Rhotoma Jimmy, aboard the schooner Mother of Pearl while on a voyage from Vanua Lava to Batavia. Witnesses were called, and, to my delight, the first person to appear was none other than John Macklin. His face when he looked towards me was filled with the deepest concern, and he gave his evidence with well-simulated reluctance.

He deposed to being the owner of the schooner, and therefore my employer; also to having been witness to the whole affray on the night in question. I had, he was extremely sorry to say, always betrayed an intense and unreasoning dislike to the dead man, and for this, on more than one occasion, he had been compelled to remonstrate with me. On the night of the murder I had pulled the man away from the wheel after making some complaint about his steering, and without warning struck him a heavy blow with a belaying-pin on the side of his head, thus undoubtedly causing his death.

I could hardly believe my ears. Was it possible that a man, confessedly my friend, could so unblushingly swear a fellow-creature's life away? When he went on to say, that with the exception of this one single instance, I had always borne an excellent character, and that he himself was much attached to me, I could have throttled him where he stood, and gone willingly to the gallows for it.

The next witness was the mate. At least, if he had not seen the affair, he would be able to clear my character of the charge of ill-will against the dead man. But, to my continued horror, he corroborated all the Albino had said, at the same time throwing in some artistic touches of his own, which did not mend matters. When he had done me all the harm he could – God alone knows for what reason – he stepped down, and the next witness was called. Then who should enter the room but Juanita! My heart leapt for joy. She at least would be true to me, and by her help I might be able to give my enemies the lie. As I looked at her noble figure, and noted the proud flash of her eyes as she glanced round the court, I could have laughed them all to scorn. But my feeling of confidence was of short duration.

To the first question as to whether she had seen my assault on the man, she falteringly answered "Yes." Then my heart became heavy as lead; I knew I was ruined and done for. What she told the court further I never heard. When she had given her evidence, she left the room on the Albino's arm weeping bitterly, and I knew I was the victim of as vile a conspiracy as ever was hatched to promote a man's ruin.