The Beautiful White Devil

"Excuse me," I said, pretending to mistake his meaning, "but this carriage is engaged! I think you will find room in the next compartment."

"I'm not looking for a seat," the officer replied, civilly enough, "I'm looking for an escaped criminal."

"Hush! Hush! My good sir, not so loud for mercy's sake," I whispered, as if in an ecstacy of fear. "I have my wife inside dangerously ill. She must not be frightened."

"I beg your pardon, sir," he answered. "I'm sorry I spoke so loud!" Then, as I moved aside to admit him: "Don't trouble, sir, I don't think I need come in, thank you!"

"I'm glad of that," I replied. "And pray who is this escapee you are looking for?"

"The woman there has been such a talk about lately, 'The Beautiful White Devil.' She managed to effect an escape on the way to Holloway Gaol this afternoon. But I am keeping the train. I must get on! Good afternoon and thank you, sir!"

"Good afternoon."

I sat down with an inarticulate expression of my gratitude to Heaven, and, a minute or so later, the train continued its journey, not to stop again until we were in Portsmouth town.

When we arrived at the docks, Walworth and I carried Alie down the steps to the wharf, and as soon as this was accomplished my faithful friend went off in search of the launch which, it had been arranged, should meet and take us out to the yacht, then lying in the harbour. When he had discovered it, we lifted our precious burden on board, and steamed out to where our craft lay. Ten minutes later we had Alie aboard and safely in her own cabin, and were proceeding down the Solent under a full head of steam. Our rescue was accomplished.

The yacht was a large one, of perhaps three hundred tons; she was also a good sea boat, and, what was better still, a fast one. By nightfall we had left the Isle of Wight behind us, and brought Swanage almost abeam. Then we stood further out into the Channel and in the gathering darkness lost sight of land altogether. At seven o'clock we dined together in the saloon – the skipper, an old shellback whom Walworth had picked up, sitting down with us. At first he seemed a little surprised at Alie's sudden convalescence, but when I informed him that it was nothing but nerves, he accepted the explanation and said no more.

After the meal was over we left the rather stuffy cabin and went on deck. It was a glorious night. In the west a young moon was dropping on to the horizon, the sea was as smooth as a mill pond, and the air just cool enough to make exercise pleasant. Leaving Walworth and Janet to fight the battle of our escape over and over again on the port side of the deck, we paced the starboard, only to find ourselves aft at our favourite spot, the taffrail.

"George, dear," said Alie softly, when we had been standing there a few moments. "What a lot has happened since we last stood like this, looking out across the sea."

"Yes, darling; a great deal has indeed occurred to us both," I answered. Then, after a little pause, "Alie, do you know if you had not escaped to-day I should never have been able to forgive myself, for remember it was I who was the means of bringing you home."

"You must not say that!"

"But I must say it; it is true."

"Then I will forgive you on one condition! Will you make a bargain with me?"

"What is it?"

"That – that – " Here a little fit of modesty overcame her. "That we put into Madeira and you marry me there."

"Alie, darling, do you mean it?" I cried, delighted beyond all measure at the proposal.

"Of course I mean it."

"But would it be safe, think you?"

"Perfectly! They will never dream of looking for us there. You must allow the skipper to understand that it is a runaway match. That will remove his scruples, and make it all plain sailing."

"And you will really be my wife then, Alie?"

"Have I not already been bold enough to ask you to marry me?"

"Then, please God, we will put into Madeira and do as you suggest!"

And that's how it was settled!

CHAPTER XVI

OUR MARRIAGE, AND THE SETTLEMENT AGAIN

I am drawing near the end of my long story now, and, when two more circumstances connected with our flight have been reported, I shall be able to lay down my pen and feel that the story of the one and only romance of my life has been written.

The first of the two circumstances to be recorded is my marriage. On July 18th, seven days exactly after saying good-bye to England, we reached Madeira. Previously to sighting the island, Walworth, in a conversation with the captain, had allowed him to suppose that Alie was a great heiress, and that ours was a runaway match. His nautical spirit of romance was stirred, and he found early occasion to inform me that he would do everything in his power to further the ends we had in view.

As soon, therefore, as we were at anchor in harbour, and the necessary formalities had been complied with, I went ashore, hunted up the proper authorities, and obtained a special license. A parson was the next person required, and when I had discovered him in the little vicarage next door to his church, on the outskirts of the town, our wedding was arranged for the following day at ten o'clock.

Accordingly next morning after breakfast a boat was manned, and Alie, Janet, Walworth, the captain, and myself went ashore. To avert suspicion we separated on landing, but met again at the church door half an hour later. It was a lovely morning, a heavy dew lay upon the grass, and when the sun came out and smiled upon us, the world looked as if it were decked with diamonds in honour of our wedding.

While we were waiting in the little porch and the clerk was opening the doors, Walworth went off and hunted up the parson. Five minutes afterwards they returned together, and then, before the bare little altar, with the sun streaming in through the open door, George De Normanville and Alie Dunbar were made man and wife. The register was then signed and witnessed, and having feed the clergyman and tipped the clerk, we all went back to the town again. It had all been most satisfactorily managed, and I had not the slightest doubt but that the half-imbecile old clergyman had forgotten our names almost before he had discarded his surplice in the vestry.

An hour later we were back on board the yacht, which had by this time replenished her supply of coal; steam was immediately got up, and by three o'clock we were safely out of sight of land once more. Now we had nothing to be afraid of save being stopped and overhauled by a man-of-war. But that was most unlikely, and even in the event of one heaving in sight and desiring to stop us, I had no doubt in my own mind that we possessed sufficiently quick heels to enable us to escape it.

But I am reminded that I have said nothing yet as to the joy and happiness which was mine in at last having Alie for my wife. I have also omitted, most criminally, to give you a full account of the wedding breakfast, which was held with becoming ceremony in the saloon of the yacht, as soon as we had got safely on our way once more. The captain's attempt at speech-making has not been reported, nor have I told you what a singular ass I made of myself, and how I nearly broke down when I rose to reply to the toast of our healths. No! an account of those things, however interesting to those who actually took part in them, could be of little or no concern to anyone else. So for that reason, if for no other, I will be prudent and hold my tongue.

Of the rest of the voyage to the Mascarenhas, there is little to chronicle, save, perhaps, that we sighted Table Mountain in due course, rounded the Cape of Good Hope safely – though we had some choppy, nasty weather in doing so, – and passing into the Indian Ocean, eventually arrived off the island of Reunion an hour before daybreak.

I was on deck before it was light, waiting eagerly for the first signs of day. Not a breath of wind was stirring and as we were only under the scantiest sail our progress was hardly discernible. Then little by little dawn broke upon us, a clear, pearl-gray light, in which the world appeared so silent and mysterious a place that one almost feared to breathe in it. While I was watching, I heard someone come across the deck behind me, and next moment a little hand stole into mine. It was Alie, my wife.

"Can you discern any sign of the schooner?" she asked.

Before answering I looked round the horizon, but there was not a sign of any sail at all. To port showed up the dim outline of the island, with a few small fishing boats coming out to meet the rising sun, but in every other direction, there was nothing but grey sea softly heaving.

"No, darling," I answered, "I can see nothing of her. But we must not be too impatient. There is plenty of time for her to put in an appearance yet."

Five minutes later Walworth came up the companion ladder and joined us. Alie turned to him.

"I hope Captain Patterson thoroughly understood your instructions, Mr. Walworth?" she said.

"I wired to him to be here a week ago," Walworth answered; "he was to expect us to-day, but, in case of our non-arrival, to continue cruising about in these waters until the end of the month."

"Then we need have no fear," she replied confidently; "we shall sight him before very long, I feel sure."

We then fell to pacing the deck together, talking of the future and all it promised for us.

Half an hour later the lookout whom the captain had sent into the fore crosstrees to report anything he might see, sang out, "Sail ho!"

"How does she bear?" cried the skipper from the deck.

"Dead ahead, sir!" was the man's reply.

"What does she look like?"

"A big topsail schooner, painted white."