CHAPTER XXI.
"You managed that very well, Mark," Dick said. "You kept well within thelimits of truth without bringing the real facts of the attack upon usinto the case."
"Well, you see, Dick, after working as a detective, one gets into theway of telling stories with the smallest amount of deviation possiblefrom the truth. What will these fellows get done to them, Lieutenant?"
"I should say that they will get two or three years imprisonment; theonly charge now is rioting and assault. It is lucky for them that theyhad clubs instead of knives, for that would have brought the matterunder the head of attempted murder. The matter of the gems was notimportant in the case, but there is sure to be a great fuss and searchfor the missing Indians. I suppose you will soon be off home now?"
"Yes, I shall find out tonight what vessel leaves for England tomorrow,and take a berth in the first that sails for London. It is too late tothink of starting this evening, and indeed I feel that I want a longnight's rest, for I did not sleep much last night, and have not quiterecovered from that crack on my head."
On his return to the hotel Mark sent out a man to inquire at theshipping offices, and finding that a bark would sail at nine o'clockthe next morning, they went down and took berths, and sailed in her nextday. The voyage home was a rapid one, for the wind blew steadily fromthe east, and the vessel made the passage to the mouth of the river intwo days, and the next took them up to London.
"I will call round tomorrow or next day, Gibbons, with the checks foryou both," Mark said as he prepared to go ashore.
"No, sir. We are both of one mind that we could not take them. We wentover to prevent you being robbed of those sparklers, and to see that youcame to no harm. Well, the things are lost, and you got knocked downand carried away. It is no thanks to us that you are alive now. It is amortifying job, that with two detectives to watch over things and withus to fight we should have been fairly beat by a few black niggers."
"If there had been any bungling on your part, Gibbons, there might besomething in what you say, but no one could have foreseen that before wehad been on shore two minutes we should have been attacked in that way.You both did all that men could do, as was shown by the condition ofthe fellows who were taken. I was just as much separated from you as youwere from me, and the fact that we were surprised as we were is reallydue to my not determining to stay on board until the morning, which Icould no doubt have done with the captain's permission. It never struckme for a moment that we should be attacked in force. I thought itprobable that an attempt at assassination would be made, but itcertainly did not seem probable that it would be attempted while youwere all with me. You are not in the slightest degree to blame, foryour part of the agreement was carried out to my satisfaction. I shallcertainly carry out mine, as I have arrived home safe and sound."
"Well, governor, it is very good of you; but I tell you it will goagainst the grain for us to take your money."
On landing, Mark parted with Dick Chetwynd, who had arranged to dropMark's bag at his lodgings on his way home, and at once took a hackneycoach to Islington. Millicent gave a cry of delight as he entered theroom.
"You are back earlier than I expected, Mark. You told me before youstarted that the wind was in the east, and that you might be a long timegetting to Amsterdam unless it changed. I have been watching the vane onthe church, and it has been pointing east ever since.
"Well, you have sold the diamonds, I hope?" she said, after the firstgreeting was over.
"No; I have bad news for you, Millicent; the jewels have been stolen."
"Well it does not make much difference, Mark. We have much more thanenough without them, so don't bother yourself in the least. How did ithappen?"
"Well, it is rather a long story. I will tell it you when Mrs.Cunningham is here, so as not to have to go over it twice. How are thedresses getting on?"
"I suppose they are getting on all right," she said. "I have donenothing for the last two days but try them on. You see, we put themout to three milliners, and they all three seem to reach the same pointtogether, and I start after breakfast, and it takes about two hours ateach place. You don't know what trouble you have given me by hurryingthings on so unreasonably."
"Well, it is better to have it all done and over," he said, "than tohave the thing hanging over you for a couple of months."
"That is what Mrs. Cunningham says. Now I want to hear about youradventures, and I will call her down."
"Only think, Mrs. Cunningham," Millicent said presently, with a laugh,after she had returned with her, "this silly boy has actually let thediamonds be stolen from him."
"No, really, Millicent!"
"Yes, indeed. Fancy his not being fit to be trusted to look after them!However, I tell him it is of no consequence. I don't know how they went.He would not tell me the story until you came down."
"I am sorry to say it is true, Mrs. Cunningham, although I can assureyou that I really cannot blame myself for either carelessness orstupidity. I knew when I started that there was a very great risk, andtook what seemed to me every possible precaution, for in addition toDick Chetwynd going with me, I took two detectives from Bow Street andtwo prize fighters."
Exclamations of surprise broke from both ladies.
"And yet, in spite of all that, these things were stolen," Millicentsaid. "How on earth did they do it? I should have sewn them up in mypockets inside my dress."
"I sewed them up in the waistband of my trousers, Millicent, and yetthey managed, in spite of us, to steal them. And now I must begin bytelling you the whole history of those diamonds, and you will understandwhy I thought it necessary to take a strong party with me."
He then told them, repeating the history the Colonel had given hisfather of the diamonds, and the conviction that he had, that he had beenfollowed by Hindoos, and the instructions he had given for the disposalof the bracelet.
"As you know," he said, "nothing happened to confirm my uncle's beliefthat there were men over here in search of the diamonds during myfather's life, but since then I have come to the same conclusion that hehad, and felt positive that I was being constantly followed wherever Iwent. As soon as I heard where the treasure was I began to take everyprecaution in my power. I avoided going to the bank after my first visitthere, and, as you know, would not bring the things for you to lookat. I got Dick Chetwynd to go there, open the case, and take out thesediamonds. He did not bring them away with him, but fetched them fromthere the morning we started. He went down and took the passage for usboth at the shipping office, and the pugilists and the detectives eachtook passages for themselves, so that I hoped, however closely I wasfollowed, they would not learn that I was taking them to Amsterdam."
"It was very wrong, Mark; very wrong indeed," Millicent broke in. "Youhad no right to run such a terrible risk; it would have been better foryou to have taken the diamonds and thrown them into the Thames."
"That would not have improved matters," he said; "the Indians would nothave known that I had got rid of them, and would have continued theirefforts to find them, and I should always have been in danger insteadof getting it over once for all. However, I did not think that there wasany danger, going over as I did, with two of the best prize fightersin England, to say nothing of the detectives, who were the men whowere with me when I caught Bastow. The only danger was that I might bestabbed; but, as they would know, it was no use their stabbing me unlessthey could search me quietly, and that they could not do unless I wasalone and in some lonely neighborhood, and I had made up my mind not tostir out unless the whole party were with me. I found out, when we goton board that in spite of all the precautions I had taken, they haddiscovered that I was going to sail for Amsterdam, which they could onlyhave done by following Dick as well as myself. There was a dark facedforeign sailor, who, I had no doubt, was a Hindoo, already on board, andI saw another in a boat watching us start; this was unpleasant, but asI felt sure that they could not have known that I had with me detectivesand pugilists, I still felt that t
hey would be able to do nothing when Igot to Amsterdam."
Then he told them the whole story of the attack, of his being carriedaway, and of his unexpected release; of the search that had been madefor him and the arrest of eighteen of his assailants. Millicent grewpale as he continued, and burst into tears when she heard of his being aprisoner in the hands of the Hindoos.
"I shall never let you go out of my sight again, Mark!" she exclaimedwhen he had finished. "It was bad enough before when you were searchingfor that man here, and I used to be terribly anxious; but that wasnothing to this."
"Well, there is an end of it now, Millicent; the men have got thediamonds, and will soon be on their way to India, if they have notstarted already."
"Nasty things!" she said; "I shall never like diamonds again: they willalways remind me of the terrible danger that you have run. Isn't itextraordinary that for twenty years four or five men should be spendingtheir lives waiting for a chance of getting them back!"
"I do not expect there were so many as that; probably there was onlyone. He would have no difficulty in learning that my father had notreceived any extraordinary gems from my uncle, and probably supposedthat they would not be taken out from wherever they might be until youcame of age. After the death of my father he might suppose that I shouldtake them out, or that, at any rate, I should go to whoever had them,and see that they were all right, and he then, perhaps, engaged half adozen Lascars--there are plenty of them at the docks--and had me watchedwherever I went; and, do you know, that I believe I once owed my life tothem."
"How was that, Mark?"
"Well, I was captured by some fellows who suspected me to be a BowStreet runner, and I think that it would have gone very hard with meif a party of five or six prize fighters had not broken into the house,pretty nearly killed the men in whose hands I was, and rescued me. Theysaid that they had heard of my danger from a foreign sailor who calledat Gibbons', with whom I was in the habit of boxing, and told him aboutit. You see, until they learned where the jewels were, my life wasvaluable to them, for possibly I was the only person who knew where theywere hidden; so really I don't think I have any reason for bearing agrudge against them. They saved my life in the first place, and sparedit at what was a distinct risk to themselves. On the other hand, theywere content with regaining the bracelet, not even, as I told you,taking my watch or purse. You see, with them it was a matter ofreligion. They had no animosity against me personally, but I have nodoubt they would have stabbed me without the slightest compunction hadthere been no other way of getting the things. Still, I think that I owea debt of gratitude to them rather than the reverse, and, after all, theloss of the bracelet is not a serious one to us."
"I am glad it is gone," Millicent said. "You say it had already causedthe death of two men, and if you had succeeded in selling it I can'thelp thinking that the money would have brought ill fortune to us. I amheartily glad that the diamonds are gone, Mark. I suppose they were veryhandsome?"
"They were magnificent," he said. "Dick and Cotter both agreed that theyhad never seen their equal, and I fancy that they must have been worth agreat deal more than your father valued them at."
"Well, it does not matter at all. There is no history attached to theothers, I hope, Mark?"
"Not in any way, dear. They were bought, as the Colonel told my father,in the ordinary course of things, and some, no doubt, were obtained atthe capture of some of the native princes' treasuries; but it was solelyon account of this bracelet that he had any anxiety. You can wear allthe others, if you have a fancy for keeping them, without a shadow ofrisk."
"No, Mark, we will sell them every one. I don't think that I shall evercare to wear any jewels again; and if I am ever presented at court andhave to do so, I would rather that you should buy some new ones freshfrom a jeweler's shop than wear anything that has come from India."
"To-morrow you shall both go to the bank with me to see them, and then Iwill take them to some first-class jeweler's and get him to value them."
The visit was paid next day. Both Millicent and Mrs. Cunningham weresomewhat disappointed at the jewels.
"It is hardly fair to see them like this," Philip Cotter said. "Theywould look very different if reset. No Indian jewels I have ever seenshow to advantage in their native settings; but many of the stones arevery large, and without knowing anything about them I should say thatthey are worth the 50,000 pounds at which you say Colonel Thorndykevalued them. He was not likely to be mistaken. He was evidently a judgeof these matters, and would hardly be likely to be far wrong."
"We will go with you to the jeweler's, Mark," Millicent said. "In thefirst place, I shall not feel quite comfortable until I know that theyare out of your hands, and in the next place I should like to hear whathe thinks of them."
"I have a number of Indian jewels that I wish you to value for me," Marksaid, as, carrying the case, he entered the jeweler's shop. "They werecollected by Colonel Thorndyke, an uncle of mine, during service inIndia."
The jeweler took them with him into a room behind the shop. The case wasopened, and the man took out sixty-eight small parcels it contained, andopened them one after the other.
"I shall need a very careful examination of these before I can form anyestimate of their value," he said, after inspecting some of the moreimportant pieces of jewelry carefully. "They are a most magnificentcollection, and had they been properly cut in the first place they wouldhave been worth a very large sum. Unfortunately, the Indian princesthink more of size than of lustre, and have their stones cut very muchtoo flat to show off their full brilliancy. Some of these large ones Ishould certainly advise to be recut, for what they will lose in weightthey will gain in beauty and value. However, sir, I will go through themand give you an estimate of the selling value of each piece. I need notsay that they ought all to be reset in the prevailing fashion; butthe gold, which is in some cases unnecessarily massive, will go somedistance towards defraying the expense."
"When shall I call again?" Mark asked.
"I should be glad if you can give me a week," the jeweler said. "Someof the things, for instance that great pearl necklace, I could appraisewithout much difficulty, but all the gems must be taken out of theirsettings before I could form a fair idea of their value."
"Then I will call in a week's time," Mark said. "I am in no particularhurry about them, but I would rather that they were in your care thanmine."
"Yes, if the cracksmen got word that there was such a collection as thisin any private house it would need a couple of men with pistols to keepguard over them."
A week later Mark again called.
"I have the list ready for you, sir; you will see that they are notmarked according to their setting, but according to their size andvalue. Thus, you see, the largest stones are priced separately; thesmaller ones are in groups according to their weight. The total comesto 42,000 pounds. I do not know whether that at all equals yourexpectations. I may say that I have shown the stones to two or three ofour principal diamond merchants, and that the prices I have put down arethose at which they would be willing to buy them; possibly some would beworth more. I had the merchants here together, and they spent some hoursgoing through them, and the sums put down are those at which one orother were willing to purchase."
"It quite answers my expectations," Mark said. "My uncle's estimate,indeed, was somewhat higher, but doubtless he judged them at the pricewhich they would fetch in India. Well, sir, I authorize you to closewith the offers, and to dispose of them for me. I will give you awritten authority to do so. In the meantime, I wish to buy a suite ofjewels as a wedding present, a tiara, necklace, and bracelets; but I donot want any diamonds to be among them."
"I am afraid I have nothing in stock without diamonds; of course, I haveboth necklaces and bracelets of almost any stones that you might select,but I have no complete set without diamonds; the effect would be somber,and few ladies would like them."
"We have some unpleasant associations with diamonds," Mark said, "andon tha
t point I am quite determined; but if you used pearls instead ofdiamonds the effect might be as good. I don't care whether the stonesare emeralds or rubies; at any rate, I should like to see some, and thenperhaps you might be able to make me a set on the same model."
Several superb sets were brought in; Mark selected one of emeralds anddiamonds.
"What would be the price of this set?" he asked.
"That set is 6000 pounds, sir; the stones are exceptionally fine ones;but if you substituted pearls of equal size for the diamonds, it wouldcost considerably less; I could not give you the exact price until it ismade, but I should say that it would be about 4500 pounds."
"Very well, then, I will take that. How long will it be making?"
"I should not like to say less than three months at the earliest; itwill require some time to collect as fine a set of emeralds as these.Indeed, I think that most probably I shall use these emeralds, or thegreater part of them, and collect others to take their places at myleisure. I do not know whether the best plan would not be to take thediamonds out and substitute pearls; there would be no difficulty ingetting them, and in that case I might have it ready for you in amonth."
"I think that will be the best plan; but you need not be in anyparticular hurry about them. My marriage will take place in less thana fortnight, and after that I shall probably be three or four monthsbefore I return to London. I will get you to keep the things until Icome back."
"I have sold the jewels, Millicent," he said, when he returned toIslington; "the jeweler has found purchasers for them all, and the totalcomes to 42,000 pounds."
"Whatever shall we do with all our money, Mark?"
"I rather wonder myself, dear. However, there is one thing, there arealways plenty of people who will be glad to relieve us of anything thatwe don't want. I can tell you that in the course of my search for BastowI have seen an amount of poverty and misery such as I never dreamt of,and I certainly should like to do something to relieve it. The bestthing that I know of would be to give a handsome sum to three or fourof the great hospitals. I don't know of any better means of helping thevery poor."
"Suppose, Mark," the girl said, putting her hand on his arm, "we givethis 42,000 pounds as a thank offering. We never expected to get it,and my father's jewels have nearly cost you your life. We have such anabundance without that, I should like, above all things, to give thismoney away."
"I think that is an excellent plan, Millicent, and a very happy thoughton your part. We cannot do it now, as we have not yet got the money, butas soon as we do we will send off checks for 10,000 guineas each to St.Bartholomew's, Guy's, and St. Thomas'--those are the three principalones; the others we can settle afterwards. But I should say that theFoundling would be as good as any, and I believe that they are rathershort of funds at present; then there is the London Mendicity Society,and many other good charities. Perhaps it would be better to divide thewhole among eight of them instead of four; but we need not settle thatuntil we return."
"Do you think we shall have to go to this horrid Amsterdam, Mark?"
"I hope not, dear; but I shall no doubt hear from the Lieutenant of thewatch during the next week or ten days."
When the letter came it was satisfactory. The prisoners, seeing thehopelessness of any defense, had all admitted their guilt, and the nameof the man who had dealt with them had also been given up. Except in hiscase there would be no trial. The others would have sentences passedon them at once, and three, who had been promised comparatively slightpunishment, would go into the box to give evidence against the manwho had engaged them. Before starting for Holland Mark had consultedMillicent as to whether she would prefer being married in London or atCrowswood. She had replied:
"I should greatly prefer Crowswood, Mark. Here we know no one, there weshould be among all our friends; certainly if we don't go we must getMr. Greg to come up and marry us here. I am sure he would feel verydisappointed if anyone else were asked. At the same time I should notlike to go home. When we come back from our trip it will be different;but it would be a great trial now, and however happy we might be, Ishould feel there was a gloom over the house."
"I quite agree with you, Millicent. When we come back we can see aboutentirely refurnishing it, and, perhaps, adding some rooms to it, and weneed not go down until a complete change has been made. We shall be ableto manage it somehow or other, and I quite agree with you that anythingwill be better than going back to the house for a day or two before thewedding."
On the voyage back from Holland Mark had talked the matter over withDick Chetwynd, and said that he thought of taking rooms for Mrs.Cunningham and Millicent at Reigate, and stopping at the hotel himself,and having the wedding breakfast there.
"Of course, Dick, you will be my best man."
"I should think so," Dick laughed. "Why, if you had asked anyone elseI should have made a personal matter of it with him, and have givenhim the option of resigning the position or going out with me. But yourother plans are foolish, and I shall take the matter into my own hands;I shall insist upon the two ladies coming down to the Park, and I willget my aunt to come and preside generally over things. I shall fill upthe house with bridesmaids, and shall have a dance the evening before.You can put up at the hotel if you like, but you know very well thatthere are a dozen houses where they will be delighted to have you; thereis no doubt that when they know what is coming off you will get a dozeninvitations, and then after church all those invited will drive off tothe Park to the wedding breakfast. After that is over you can start in apost chaise to Canterbury or Dover, wherever you may decide to make yourfirst halt."
"But, my dear Dick, I could not put you to all this trouble!"
"Nonsense, man. I should enjoy it immensely; besides, I shall be reallyglad of a good reason to try and open the doors of the Park again. Ihave been there very little since my father's death, and I think I shallmake it my headquarters in future. I am getting rather tired of bachelorlife in London, and must look out for a wife; so nothing could be moreappropriate than this idea. Don't bother yourself any further aboutit. I shall ride down and establish myself there tomorrow, and spenda couple of days in driving round to our friends and in sending outinvitations. I shall still have nearly a fortnight for makingall preparations. Why, it will cause quite an excitement in theneighborhood! I shall be hailed as a benefactor, and I shall leteveryone know that your father's ward was really your cousin, but thatby the will of her father she was to drop her surname until she came ofage; and that until that time your father was to have the entire controlof the property. I shall add that although the estate, of course, ishers, your uncle has left you a very big fortune, and that nothing couldbe more suitable in all respects than the marriage."
"That will do excellently, Dick; that will be quite enough, withoutgoing into details at all. You can mention that we intend to have thehouse entirely refurnished, and on the return from our wedding tripabroad to settle there. I am sure I am extremely obliged to you for youroffer, which will certainly clear away all sorts of small difficulties."
A day or two after his return Mark wrote to Mr. Greg telling him therelations in which Millicent and he stood to each other, and of the nearapproach of their marriage. He said that Millicent would be married fromDick Chetwynd's, but that it would be at Crowswood church. In return hereceived a warm letter of congratulation from the Rector, telling himthat the news was in every respect delightful, and that his wife andthe children were in a state of the highest excitement, not only at themarriage, but at their coming down to reside again at Crowswood.
"The village," he said, "will be scarcely less pleased than I am, forthough everything goes on as you ordered, and the people get their milk,broths, and jellies as before, they don't look at it as the same thingas it was in the old days. I cannot say that the news of your engagementto Miss Conyers--I ought to say Miss Thorndyke--is surprising, for I hadthought that it would be quite the natural thing for you to fall in lovewith each other, and, indeed, my wife declares that she saw
it comingon distinctly during the last few months before you left here. Yourpostscript saying that Bastow had been captured and had committedsuicide gave me a distinct feeling of relief, for no one could tellwhether the deadly enmity that he felt for your father might not extendto you. I have cut this note rather short, but I have just heard thedoor shut, and I am quite sure that my wife has gone down to tell thegood news in the village, and I really cannot deny myself the pleasureof telling some of the people myself, and seeing their faces brighten upat the news."
As Dick had foretold would be the case, Mark received a very warmletter from Sir Charles Harris, congratulating him upon his approachingmarriage, and insisting upon his taking up his quarters with him.
"I am sending a man down with this to hand it to the guard as the upcoach goes through the town. Chetwynd told me that his call on me wasthe first he had paid, so I feel fairly confident that I shall forestallthe rest of your friends, and that you will give me the pleasure of yourcompany."
Mark wrote back accepting the invitation at once, which enabled him todecline half a dozen others without the necessity of making a choice.Everything turned out as arranged. Millicent and Mrs. Cunningham wentdown in a post chaise, two days before the wedding, and Mark drove downin his gig with them. Dick Chetwynd met them on horseback just outsideReigate, and escorted the ladies to his house, Mark driving on to thatof Sir Charles Harris. Millicent found the house full of her specialfriends, whom she had asked to be her bridesmaids. She was almostbewildered by the warmth of their welcome, and overpowered by thequestions poured upon her.
"The news quite took all our breath away, Millicent," one of them said."It seems extraordinary that you should have been Miss Thorndyke all thetime, though I don't think that any of us were at all surprised that youshould take the name now; you must have been surprised when you heardthat you were the heiress of Crowswood."
"I was a great deal more disgusted than surprised," she said ratherindignantly. "I did not think that it was fair at all that I should stepinto Mark's shoes."
"Well, it has all come right now, Millicent, and I dare say you thoughtthat it would, even then."
"I can assure you that I did not; quite the contrary, I thought that itnever would come right. I was very unhappy about it for a time."
"Now, young ladies," Dick Chetwynd laughed, "will you please take Mrs.Cunningham and Miss Thorndyke up to their rooms? I don't suppose I shallsee any more of you before dinner time; there are those trunks to beopened and examined, talked over, and admired. Mind, I have fifteenmore, for the most part men, coming to dinner, so those of you whoaspire to follow Miss Thorndyke's example had best prepare yourselvesfor conquest."
The ball on the following evening was a great success. Dick haddetermined that it should be a memorable one, and there was a consensusof opinion that it was the most brilliant that had taken place in thatpart of the country for many years.
Crowswood church and village presented a most festive appearance onthe following day; there was not a cottage that had not great posies offlowers in its windows, and that had not made some sort of attemptat decoration with flags or flowers. A huge arch of evergreens, withsheaves of wheat and flowers, had been erected on the top of the hill,and every man, woman, and child turned out in their best, and cheeredlustily, first, when Mark drove up in his gig, and equally lustily whenthe Chetwynd carriage, drawn by four gray horses, dashed up, precededby a large number of others with the bridesmaids and friends. The churchwas already crowded, and Mr. Greg was visibly moved at seeing the sonand niece of the man to whom he owed his living made man and wife.When the wedding breakfast, at which more than fifty sat down, andthe necessary toasts were over, Mr. and Mrs. Thorndyke started forCanterbury.
CHAPTER XXII.
It was not until Easter that Mark Thorndyke and his wife returned toEngland. They had spent the greater portion of that time in Italy,lingering for a month at Venice, and had then journeyed quietlyhomewards through Bavaria and Saxony; They were in no hurry, as beforestarting on their honeymoon Mark had consulted an architect, had toldhim exactly what he wanted, and had left the matter in his hands. Mrs.Cunningham had from time to time kept them informed how things weregoing on. The part of the house in which the Squire's room had beensituated was entirely pulled down, and a new wing built in its stead.Millicent had been specially wishful that this should be done.
"I don't know that I am superstitious, Mark," she had said, "but I dothink that when a murder has taken place in a house it is better to makea complete change. The servants always think they see or hear something.That part of the house is avoided, and it is difficult to get anyone tostay there. I think it is very much more important to do that than itis to get the house refurnished; we can do anything in that way youlike when we get back, but I should certainly like very much to have thegreat alteration made before we return."
The architect was a clever one, and the house, which was some twohundred years old, was greatly improved in appearance by the new wing,which was made to harmonize well with the rest, but was speciallydesigned to give as much variety as possible to the general outline.Millicent uttered an exclamation of pleasure when they first caught aglimpse of the house. As they rode through the village they were againwelcomed as heartily as they were on their wedding day. Mrs. Cunninghamreceived them; she had been established there for a month, and hadplaced the house entirely on its old footing. They first examined thenew portion of the house, and Millicent was greatly pleased with therooms that had been prepared for them, Mark having requested Mrs.Cunningham to put the furnishing into the hands of the best known firmof the day.
"I have asked," Mrs. Cunningham said, "the Rector and his wife andMr. Chetwynd to dine with us this evening; they can scarcely be termedcompany, and I thought that you might find it pleasant to have these oldfriends here the first evening. There is a letter for you on the librarytable, Mark; it may almost be called a packet; it has been here nearly amonth."
In our days a newly married couple would find on their return fromforeign travel basketfuls of letters, circulars, and catalogues fromtradesmen of all kinds; happily, our forefathers were saved from theseinflictions, and Mark at once went to the library with almost a feelingof surprise as to who could have written to him. He saw at once thatit was a ship's letter, for on the top was written, "Favored by theSurinam."
"Why, it is Ramoo's writing. I suppose he gave it to someone he knew,and that instead of its being put in the mail bag in India, he broughtit on with him. What a tremendously long epistle!" he exclaimed,glancing his eye down the first page, and then a puzzled expression cameacross his face; he sat down and began to read from the first slowly andcarefully.
"HONORED SAHIB:
"I do not know why I should write to tell you the true history of allthese matters. I have thought it over many times, but I feel that itis right that you should know clearly what has happened, and how it hascome about, and more especially that you should know that you need neverfear any troubles such as those that have taken place. I am beginningto write this while we are yet sailing, and shall send it to you byship from the Cape, or if it chances that we meet any ship on her way toEngland, our letters may be put on board her."
"Why, this letter must be more than a year old," Mark said to himself.There was no date to the letter, but, turning to the last sheet, he sawas a postscript after the signature the words, "January 26th.--A ship,the Surinam, is lying a short distance from us, and will take ourletters to England."
"Yes, it must be a year old; but what he means by the way he begins ismore than I can imagine;" and he turned back to the point at which hehad broken off.
"I would tell it you in order as it happened. I, Ramoo, am a Brahmin.Twenty years ago I was the head priest of a great temple. I shall notsay where the temple was; it matters not in any way. There was fighting,as there is always fighting in India. There were Company's Sepoys andwhite troops, and one night the most sacred bracelet of the great god ofour temple was stolen."
"Goo
d Heavens!" Mark exclaimed, laying down the letter. "Then it hasbeen Ramoo who has all this time been in pursuit of the diamonds; and tothink that my uncle never even suspected him!"
Then suddenly he continued, "now I understand why it was my life wasspared by those fellows. By Jove, this is astounding!" Then he took upthe letter again.
"Two of the Brahmins under me had observed, at a festival the day beforethe bracelet was lost, a white soldier staring at it with covetous eyes.One of them was in charge of the temple on the night when it was stolen,and on the day following he came to me, and said, 'I desire to devote mylife to the recovery of the jewels of the god. Bondah will go with me;we will return no more until we bring them back.' 'It is good,' I said;'the god must be appeased, or terrible misfortunes may happen.' Then weheld a solemn service in the temple. The two men removed the caste marksfrom their foreheads, prostrated themselves before the god, and wentout from amongst us as outcasts until the day of their death. Two monthslater a messenger came from the one who had spoken to me, saying thatthey had found the man, but had for a long time had no opportunity offinding the bracelet. Then Bondah had met him in a lonely place, andhad attacked him. Bondah had lost his life, but the soldier was, thoughsorely wounded, able to get back to his regiment. He had died, but hehad, the writer was convinced, passed the jewels on to a comrade, whomhe would watch. Then I saw that one man was not sufficient for such atask. Then I, too, the Chief Brahmin of the temple, saw that it was myduty to go forth also.
"I laid the matter before the others, and they said, 'You are right; itis you who, as the chief in the service of the god, should bring backhis jewels.' So again there was a service, and I went forth as anoutcast and a wanderer, knowing that I must do many things that wereforbidden to my caste; that I must touch unclean things, must eatforbidden food, and must take life if needs be. You, sahib, cannotunderstand how terrible was the degradation to me, who was of the purestblood of the Brahmins. I had taken the most solemn vows to devote mylife to this. I knew that, whether successful or not, although I mightbe forgiven my offense by the god, yet that never again could I recovermy caste, even though the heaviest penances were performed. Henceforth,I must stand alone in the world, without kindred, without friends,without help, save such as the god might give me in the search.
"I was rich. The greater part of my goods I gave to the temple, and yetretained a considerable sum, for I should need money to carry out myquest, and after I had accomplished it I should hand over what remainedfor the benefit of the poor. I should myself become a fakir. I want youto understand, sahib, that henceforth I had but one object in life, asupreme one, to accomplish, in which nothing must stand in my way, andthat what would be in others a crime was but a sacrifice on my part,most acceptable to the god. I journeyed down to the place where mycomrade was, dressed as one of the lowest class, even as a sweeper, andhe and I strove by all the means in our power to discover what this manhad done with the jewels. Night after night we crawled into his tent. Wesearched his bed and his clothes. With sharp rods we tried every inch ofthe soil, believing that he had hidden the diamonds underground, but wefailed.
"There my comrade said, 'I must give my life to find out where he hidesthese things. I will watch night after night by the door of his tent,and if he comes out I will stab him; it shall be a mortal wound, butI will not kill him outright. Before he dies he will doubtless, as theother did, pass the jewels on to some comrade, and then it will be foryou to follow him up.' 'It is good,' I said. 'This man may have hiddenthem away somewhere during the time they have marched through thecountry. In spite of the watch you have kept he may have said tohimself, "I will return, though it be years hence." Your plan is good,'I said. 'I envy you. 'Tis better to die thus than to live in sin as weare doing.'
"That evening the man was stabbed, but an officer running up killed mycomrade. The soldier was taken to the hospital, and I lay down besidethe tent with my eye to a slit that I had cut, and watched till morning.
"Then I took my broom and swept the ground. I had not been hired as oneof the camp sweepers, and so could move about and sweep where I chose.No one ever asked me any questions. The soldiers heeded me no more thanif I had been a dog, and, of course, supposed that I was acting by theorder of the head of the sweepers. Presently I saw one of the servantsof the hospital go across to the tent of the officer who had killed mycomrade. He came over and went into the hospital tent. I felt sure thatit was the wounded man who had sent for him. He was in there some time.Presently a soldier came out and went to the tent of the wounded man,and returned bringing a musket. Then I said to myself, 'The god hasblinded us. He wills that we shall go through many more toils before weregain the bracelet.' Doubtless the man had carried the bracelet in hismusket all the time, and we, blind that we were, had never thought ofit.
"Presently the officer came out again. I noticed that as he did so helooked round on all sides as if to see if he were watched. Then I knewthat it was as I had thought: the soldier had given the bracelet to him.At this I was pleased; it would be far more easy to search the tent ofan officer than of a soldier, who sleeps surrounded by his comrades. Ithought that there was no hurry now; it would need but patience, andI should be sure to find them. I had not calculated that he wouldhave better opportunities than the soldier for going about, and that,doubtless, the soldier had warned him of his danger. Two hours later theofficer mounted his horse and rode towards the camp of another regiment,a mile and a quarter away. There was nothing in that; but I watched forhis return all that day and all that night, and when he did not comeback, I felt that he was doing something to get rid of the diamonds.
"He was away three days, and when he returned I was almost sure that hehad not the diamonds about him. As he had ridden off he had looked aboutjust as he had when he left the hospital: he was uneasy, just as if hewas watched; now he was uneasy no longer. Then I knew that my searchwould be a long one, and might fail altogether. I went away, and forthree months I prayed and fasted; then I returned. I bought differentclothes, I painted my forehead with another caste mark, then I boughtfrom the servant of an officer in another regiment his papers ofservice: recommendations from former masters. Then I went to theofficer--you will guess, sahib, that it was the Major, your uncle--and Ipaid his servant to leave his service, and to present me as a brotherof his who had been accustomed to serve white sahibs, and was, likehimself, a good servant; so I took his place.
"He was a good master, and I came to love him, though I knew that Imight yet have to kill him. You have heard that I saved his life threetimes; I did so partly because I loved him, but chiefly because his lifewas most precious to me, for if he had died I should have lost all clewto the bracelet. I had, of course, made sure that he had not gotthem with him; over and over again I searched every article in hispossession. I ripped open his saddle lest they might be sewn up in itsstuffing. All that could be done I did, until I was quite sure that hehad not got them. He, on his part, came to like me. He thought that Iwas the most faithful of servants, and after the last time I saved hislife he took me with him everywhere. He went down to Madras, and wasmarried there. I watched his every movement. After that he went downfrequently. Then a child was born, and six months afterwards his wifedied.
"The regiment was stationed at the fort. At that time he was at manyplaces--the governor's, the other officer sahibs', the merchants', andothers'. I could not follow him, but I was sure by his manner that hehad not taken back the bracelet from whoever he had sent it to. I knewhim so well by this time that I should have noticed any change in hismanner in a moment. At last the child went away in the charge ofMrs. Cunningham. I bribed the child's ayah, and she searched Mrs.Cunningham's boxes and every garment she had, and found no small sealedparcel or box amongst them. Three years more passed. By this time theColonel treated me more as a friend than as a servant. He said one day,laughing, 'It is a long time since my things have been turned topsyturvy, Ramoo. I think the thieves have come to the conclusion that Ihave not got what they are looking
for.' 'What is that, sahib?' I asked.'Some special jewels,' he said. 'They are extremely valuable. But I havegot them and a lot of other things so safely stowed that no one willever find them unless I give them the clew.' 'But suppose you arekilled, sahib,' I said; 'your little daughter will never get thethings.' 'I have provided for that,' he answered. 'If I am killed I havearranged that she shall know all about it either when she comes to theage of eighteen or twenty-one.'
"A few weeks after that he was wounded very badly. I nursed him nightand day for weeks, and when he came to England he brought me with him.As you know, sahib, he died. When he was in London he went to see Mrs.Cunningham and the child, and several times to the office of the lawyerwho attended your father's funeral. Then he came down to your father,and I know he had long and earnest conversations with him. I did all Icould to listen, but the Colonel always had the windows and doors shutbefore he began to speak. I could see that your father was troubled.Then the Colonel died. After his death I could never find his snuff box;he had carried it about with him for some years; once or twice I hadexamined it, but it was too small for the diamonds to be hidden in. Isuppose that he had given it to the sahib, your father, but as I couldnever find it I guessed that there was some mystery attached to it,though what I could not tell.
"Then your father took me down to Crowswood with him, and Mrs.Cunningham and the little girl came down. I was surprised to find thatyour father seemed to be master of the estate, and that no one thoughtanything of the child, whose name had been changed. I spoke one day toMrs. Cunningham about it; your father seemed to me a just and good man,and I could not believe that he was robbing his brother's daughter. Mrs.Cunningham told me that the Colonel did not wish her to be known as anheiress, and that he had left the estate to his brother until she cameof age. Your father was as good a master as the Colonel had been.I watched and watched, and once or twice I overheard him talking tohimself in the library, and discovered that your father himself wasaltogether ignorant of the hiding place of the property that the Colonelhad mentioned in his will. I knew then that I should have to wait untilthe child was either eighteen or twenty-one.
"It was a long time, but I had learnt to be patient. I was not unhappy;I loved your father, I loved the Colonel's little daughter; and I wasvery fond of you. All these things were small to me in comparison to myvow and the finding the jewels of the god, but they shortened the yearsof waiting. Then a year before the young mistress was eighteen came theshot through the window. I did not know who had fired it, but I saw thatyour father's life was in danger, and I said to myself, 'He will tellthe young sahib what he knows about the bracelet.' After you had goneinto the library I opened the door quietly, and listened. I could hearmuch that was said, but not all. I heard him say something about a snuffbox, and some means of finding the lost things being hidden in it, andthat he had kept them all these years in a secret hiding place, which hedescribed. You were to search for the diamonds, and I guessed from thatthat he did not know what he was to be told when the young memsahib cameof age, or perhaps when she was eighteen. It was not until I had thoughtover what I heard that I came to the conclusion that if I could find thethings he spoke of I might be able to find the jewels. By that time yourfather had gone to bed. I was foolish not to have been patient, butmy blood boiled after waiting for eighteen or nineteen years. The godseemed to have sent me the chance, and it seemed to me that I shouldtake it at once. I knew that he generally slept with his window open,and it seemed to me that it would be easy to slip in there and to getthose things from the cabinet. I knew where the ladder was kept. I tooka file from the tool chest and cut the chain."
Here Mark dropped the letter in horror.
"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed. "Then Bastow spoke truly, and he was notmy father's murderer! Never did a single suspicion of Ramoo enter myhead. This is appalling; but I cannot read any more now. It is time forme to go and dress for dinner."
"Is anything the matter with you, Mark?" Millicent asked anxiously, asshe met him in the drawing room; "you look as white as a sheet."
"I have been reading Ramoo's letter, and he has told me some things thathave surprised and shocked me. I will tell you about them after dinner,dear. It is a long story, but you won't have to wait until Dick and theGregs are gone. They are interested in all that interests us, and shallhear the letter read. No; I think I will ask them and Dick to come inthe morning. I should not like anything to sadden the first evening ofour coming home."
"Then it is something sad."
"Yes, but it does not affect us, though it does affect Ramoo. Now clearyour brow, dear, and dismiss the subject from your mind, else our guestswill fancy that our marriage has not been altogether so satisfactory asthey had hoped."
"As if they could think such a thing as that, Mark," she saidindignantly. "But there is the sound of wheels; it is Mr. Chetwynd'sgig."
The three visitors all came in together, having met at the door. Mark,with a great effort, put aside the letter from his mind, and a cheerfulevening was spent. They had much to tell of their travels, manyquestions to ask about the parish and their mutual friends and theneighborhood generally, and when they rose to go Mark said:
"Would you mind riding over again tomorrow morning, Dick? I have aletter to read to you that will interest you greatly."
"Certainly. What time shall I be here?"
"Say at eleven o'clock. It is a long epistle, and will take us an hourto get through; after that we can stroll round, and, of course, you willstop to lunch.
"I should be glad if you and Mrs. Greg can come over too," he added,turning to the Rector; "you will be much interested also in the matter."
The next day the party met in the library at the hour named. "I may tellyou, Mr. Greg, that I specially asked you and your wife here becausethis letter throws some light on Arthur Bastow's connection with myfather's murder; you were friends with his father, and I think you oughtto know. As to you, Dick, the letter will interest you from beginning toend, and will surprise as much as it will interest you."
"Even I don't know what it is, Mrs. Greg," Millicent said. "I know itquite upset Mark yesterday, but he said he would sooner I did not knowanything about it until today, as he did not want me to be saddened onthe first evening of our return home. Now, please go on, Mark; you havesaid quite enough to excite us all."
Mark had read but a short distance when Dick Chetwynd exclaimed:
"Then Ramoo was at the bottom of that Indian business, after all. Ialmost wonder you never suspected it, Mark."
"Well, I hardly could do so," Mark said, "when my uncle was so fond ofhim, and he had served him so faithfully."
As he approached the point at which he had laid down the letter on theprevious evening, Millicent's color faded.
Suddenly an exclamation of horror broke from her when he read the lastline.
"Oh, Mark," she said, with quivering lips, "don't say it was Ramoo. Healways seemed so kind and good."
"It was here I stopped last night," he said, "but I fear there can be nodoubt about it. I must say that it is evident from this letter, thatno thought of doing my father harm was in his mind when he placed thatladder against the window. Now I will go on."
The letter continued as follows:
"Having placed the ladder, I clambered to the window and quietly enteredthe room. It was quite dark, but I knew the place of every piece offurniture so well that I was able to go without hesitation to thecabinet. Your father was speaking very slowly and distinctly when hetold you how it was to be opened, and I was able to do it easily, butI did not know that the back opened with a sharp click, and the noisestartled me and woke your father. In an instant he was out of bed andseized me by the throat. Now, he was a much stronger man than I was. Istruggled in vain. I felt that in a moment I should become insensible;my vow and my duty to the god flashed across me, and scarce knowing whatI did, I drew a little dagger I always carried, and struck blindly.He fell, and I fell beside him. For a time I was insensible. When Irecovered I was seized
with the bitterest remorse that I had killed oneI loved, but I seemed to hear the voice of the god saying, 'You havedone well, Ramoo. I am your great master, and you are bound to myservice.'
"I got up almost blindly, felt in the cabinet, and found a coin and apiece of paper, and a feeling of exultation came over me that, afternearly twenty years, I should succeed in carrying out my vow and takinghis bracelet back to the god. I descended the ladder, crept in the backdoor by which I had come out, went up to my room, where I had kept alight burning, and examined my treasures. Then I saw that all had beenin vain. They were doubtless a key to the mystery, but until a clew wasgiven they were absolutely useless. I sat for hours staring at them. Iwould have gone back and replaced them in the cabinet and left all asit had been before, but I dared not enter the room again. The next day Iheard you say that you suspected that the talk with your father had beenoverheard, and that the man who had earlier in the evening before shotat him had returned, and while listening had heard something said aboutthe hiding place, and thought that he would find some sort of treasurethere. I thought that in the talk your father might have told you howto use these things, though I had not caught it, and it was thereforeimportant that you should have them back again, so I went into the roomafter the inquest was over, and placed the things in their hiding placeagain.
"Then, thinking it over, I determined to leave your service. You wouldbe trying to find the treasure, and I must watch you, and this I couldnot do as long as I was a house servant; so I came up to London, and youthought I had sailed for India, but I did not go. I hired four Lascars,men of my own religion, and paid them to watch every movement that youmade, to see where you visited and where you went. I paid them well,and they served me well; it was so that I was able to bring those mento your help when but for that you would have lost your life. It was forthis to some extent that I had you followed; for I soon found out thatyou were on the search for the man who had fired through the window, andwho you believed had killed your father, rather than for the jewels. Iknew that you might run into danger, and partly because I loved you, andpartly because it was possible that it would be essential for that coinand piece of paper to be produced in order that the treasure might beobtained, I kept guard over you.
"When the 18th of August approached we were all on the watch. I feltsure that you would take every possible precaution while you had thebracelet in your possession. We knew who were your principal friends,the banker's son and Mr. Chetwynd. On the 18th of August everything wenton as usual. On the following day the banker's son came to you, and assoon as he left you, you went to the lawyer's, and afterwards to thebanker's. I felt sure now that it was at that bank that the jewels hadbeen placed, and that you had been waiting till the young memsahib'sbirthday for the news that they might be taken out; then you went to Mr.Chetwynd's, and he went to the bank. I had no doubt that he was to takethem out for you, and after that one of the men never took his eyes offhim when he was outside of his house. Afterwards you went to the placewhere the men used to fight, and the man who was watching you went in,and had beer, and saw you talking with the big man you used to fightwith, in the parlor behind the bar. The watcher went out to follow you,but left another to watch this man. We found that both Mr. Chetwynd andhe went to a shipping office in Tower Street, and we then guessed thatyou intended to take the bracelet at once across the sea.
"I went myself and found out that a vessel was sailing in two days toAmsterdam. I took a passage for a man in the cheap cabin, and asked tolook at the list of passengers, as I believed that some friend wouldbe sailing by her; there were two men's names down together in onehandwriting among the first class passengers, and I guessed that thesewere you and Mr. Chetwynd. I also saw the name of the big man, which Ihad heard long before, down in the list of passengers, and anothername next to his in the same handwriting. I did not know his name, butguessed that it was another of the fighting men, and that they weregoing to look after you until you had got rid of the diamonds. On themorning that she was to sail one of the Lascars was on board; I thoughtit possible that in order to throw anyone who might be following you offyour scent you might at the last moment go ashore, and that Mr. Chetwyndmight take the diamonds over, so I watched, and saw you on the deck withyour friend.
"I and the other three Lascars then took passage that evening in a craftfor Rotterdam, and got to Amsterdam two days before your ship arrived;we went to different houses, and going separately into the worst partsof the town, soon found a man who kept a gambling den, and who was aman who could be trusted. I offered him a thousand francs to collecttwenty-five men, who were to be paid a hundred francs each, and to beready, if your ship arrived after dark, to attack two passengers I wouldpoint out to them. I did not want you to be hurt, so bargained that allknives were to be left behind, and that he was to supply the men onlywith clubs. If the ship came in in daylight you were to be attacked thefirst time you went out after dark. You know how that was carried out.You had two more men with you than I had expected; but I thought thatwith a sudden rush you might all be separated. You know the rest. Themoment you were knocked down I and three others carried you to a boat.It had been lying near the stairs, and we took you off to the barge inwhich I had arranged you should be taken to Rotterdam.
"We told them that you were a drunken man who had been stunned in afight in a public house. As soon as we were off, I searched you andfound the diamonds. Then, as you know, we put you ashore. We allcrossed to England that night. Two days later I sailed in this ship, theBrahmapootra. I am not afraid of telling you this, because I know thatthe diamonds will not shine on the god's arm until all fear of searchand inquiry are over. My task will be done when I hand them over to theman who holds the office I once held; then I shall bear the penancesimposed on me for having broken my caste in every way, and for havingtaken life, and for the rest of my days I shall wander as a fakirthrough India. I shall be supported by the knowledge that I have done myduty to my god, and have sacrificed all in his service, but it will everbe a grief to me that in so doing it was necessary to sacrifice the lifeof one who had ever shown me kindness. You may wonder why I have writtenthis, but I felt that I must own the truth to you, and that you shouldknow that if in the course of my duty to the god it was my misfortuneto slay your father, I have twice saved your life, just as three times Isaved that of the Colonel Sahib, your uncle."
There was silence for some little time after Mark had finished reading.
"It is a strange story indeed," Mr. Greg said, "but it is not for usto judge the man. He has acted according to his lights, and none can domore. He sacrificed himself and his life solely to the service of hisgod, well knowing that even were he successful, his reward would bepenance and suffering, and a life of what cannot but be misery to aman brought up, as he has been, to consider himself of the highest andholiest rank of the people. I think, Mark, we need neither say nor thinkanything harshly of him."
"Certainly not," Mark agreed. "I can understand that according to hisview of the matter anything that stood between him and his goal was butan obstacle to be swept aside; assuredly there was no premeditation inthe killing of my father. I have no doubt that the man was attached tohim, and that he killed him not to save his own life, but in order thathis mission might be carried out."
"Quite so, Mark; it was done in the same spirit, if I may say so, thatAbraham would have sacrificed his son at the order of his God. Whatyears of devotion that man has passed through! Accustomed, as you see,to a lofty position, to the respect and veneration of those around him,he became a servant, and performed duties that were in his opinion notonly humiliating, but polluting and destructive to his caste, and whichrendered him an outcast even among the lowest of his people. Do you notthink so, Mrs. Thorndyke?"
Millicent, who was crying quietly, looked up.
"I can only think of him as the man who twice saved Mark's life," shesaid.
"I understand why you have wished to tell me this story," the Rectorwent on to Mark. "You wish me to know th
at Arthur Bastow did not addthis to his other crimes; that he was spared from being the murderer ofyour father, but from no want of will on his part; and, as we know, hekilled many others, the last but an hour or two before he put an end tohis own life; still I am glad that this terrible crime is not his. Itseemed to be so revolting and unnatural. It was the Squire's father whohad given the living to his father, and the Squire himself had been hisfriend in the greatest of his trials, and had given him a shelter and ahome in his old age. I am glad, at least, that the man, evil as he was,was spared this last crime of the grossest ingratitude."
"Well, Mark," Dick Chetwynd said cheerfully, in order to turn thesubject, "I am heartily glad that we have got to the bottom of thisjewel mystery. I have been puzzling over it all the time that you havebeen away, and I have never been able to understand how, in spite ofthe precautions that we took, they should have found out that the jewelswere at Cotter's, and that you had them on board with you, and, aboveall, why they spared your life when they could so easily and safelyhave put you out of the way. It is certainly strange that while you werethinking over everything connected with the jewels, the idea that Ramoowas the leading spirit in the whole business should never once haveoccurred to you."
A month later, when Mark went up to town, he called at LeadenhallStreet.
"Of course, you have not heard of the arrival of the Brahmapootra atMadras yet. May I ask when she left the Cape?"
"She never left the Cape, sir," the clerk replied, "and there are verygrave fears for her safety. She spoke the Surinam and gave her mailsfor England when the latter was eight days out from the Cape, and theSurinam reported that a day later she encountered a terrible gale, lostseveral spars, and narrowly escaped being blown onto the African coast.Since then we have had no news of the Brahmapootra. A number of Indiamenhave arrived since; the latest came in only yesterday, and up to thetime when she left no news had been received of the ship. Three smallcraft had been sent up the coast weeks before to make inquiries for her,but had returned without being able to obtain any intelligence, and hadseen no wreckage on the coast, although they had gone several hundredmiles beyond where she had spoken the Surinam, therefore there can belittle doubt that she foundered with all hands during the gale. You hadno near relatives on board, I hope, sir?"
"No near relatives, but there was one on board in whom I was greatlyinterested. Here is my card; I should feel greatly obliged if you wouldwrite me a line should you hear anything of her."
"I will do so, sir. We have had innumerable inquiries from friends andrelatives of those on board, and although of late we have been obligedto say that there can no longer be any hope that she will ever be heardof, not a day passes but many persons still come in to inquire."
No letter ever came to Mark; no news was ever heard of the Brahmapootra.Ramoo's sacrifice was in vain, and never again did the diamond braceletglisten on the arm of the idol in the unknown temple.
THE END.
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