A Bid for Fortune - Guy Boothby (romance book recommendations .TXT) 📗

even greater than mine, and muttering something about "a close shave," he turned and walked quickly aft. My mind was now made up, and I accordingly reported my discovery to Beckenham, pointing out the man and warning him to watch for him when he was abroad without me. This he promised to do.

Next morning I donned my best attire (my luggage having safely arrived), and shortly before eleven o'clock bade Beckenham good-bye and betook myself to Potts Point to call upon the Wetherells.

It would be impossible for me to say with what varied emotions I trod that well-remembered street, crossed the garden, and approached the ponderous front door, which somehow had always seemed to me so typical of Mr. Wetherell himself. The same butler who had opened the door to me on the previous occasion opened it now, and when I asked if Miss Wetherell were at home, he gravely answered, "Yes, sir," and invited me to enter.

I was shown into the drawing-room--a large double chamber beautifully furnished and possessing an elegantly painted ceiling--while the butler went in search of his mistress. A few moments later I heard a light footstep outside, a hand was placed upon the handle of the door, and before I could have counted ten, Phyllis--my Phyllis!--was in the room and in my arms! Over the next five minutes, gentle reader, we will draw a curtain with your kind permission. If you have ever met your sweetheart after an absence of several months, you will readily understand why!

When we had become rational again I led her to a sofa, and, seating myself beside her, asked if her father had in any way relented. At this she looked very unhappy, and for a moment I thought was going to burst into tears.

"Why! What is the matter, Phyllis, my darling?" I cried in sincere alarm. "What is troubling you?"

"Oh, I am so unhappy," she replied. "Dick, there is a gentleman in Sydney now to whom papa has taken an enormous fancy, and he is exerting all his influence over me to induce me to marry him."

"The deuce he is, and pray who may----" but I got no farther in my inquiries, for at that moment I caught the sound of a footstep in the hall, and next moment Mr. Wetherell opened the door. He remained for a brief period looking from one to the other of us without speaking, then he advanced, saying, "Mr. Hatteras, please be so good as to tell me when this persecution will cease? Am I not even to be free of you in my own house. Flesh and blood won't stand it, I tell you, sir--won't stand it! You pursued my daughter to England in a most ungentlemanly fashion, and now you have followed her out here again."

"Just as I shall continue to follow her all my life, Mr. Wetherell," I replied warmly, "wherever you may take her. I told you on board the Orizaba, months ago, that I loved her: well, I love her ten thousand times more now. She loves me--won't you hear her tell you so? Why then should you endeavour to keep us apart?"

"Because an alliance with you, sir, is distasteful to me in every possible way. I have other views for my daughter, you must learn." Here Phyllis could keep silence no longer, and broke in with--"If you mean by that that you will force me into this hateful marriage with a man I despise, papa, you are mistaken. I will marry no one but Mr. Hatteras, and so I warn you."

"Silence, Miss! How dare you adopt that tone with me! You will do as I wish in this and all other matters, and so we'll have no more talk about it. Now, Mr. Hatteras, you have heard what I have to say, and I warn you that, if you persist in this conduct, I'll see if something can't be found in the law to put a stop to it. Meanwhile, if you show yourself in my grounds again, I'll have my servants throw you out into the street! Good-day."

Unjust as his conduct was to me, there was nothing for it but to submit, so picking up my hat I bade poor little frightened Phyllis farewell, and went towards the door. But before taking my departure I was determined to have one final shot at her irascible parent, so I said, "Mr. Wetherell, I have warned you before, and I do so again: your daughter loves me, and, come what may, I will make her my wife. She is her own mistress, and you cannot force her into marrying any one against her will. Neither can you prevent her marrying me if she wishes it. You will be sorry some day that you have behaved like this to me."

But the only answer he vouchsafed was a stormy one. "Leave my house this instant," he said. "Not another word, sir, or I'll call my servants to my assistance!"

The stately old butler opened the front door for me, and assuming as dignified an air as was possible, I went down the drive and passed out into the street.

When I reached home again Beckenham was out, for which I was not sorry, as I wanted to have a good quiet think by myself. So lighting a cigar, I pulled a chair into the verandah and fell to work. But I could make nothing of the situation, save that, by my interview this morning, my position with the father was, if possible, rendered even more hopeless than before. Who was this more fortunate suitor? Would it be any use my going to him and--but no, that was clearly impossible. Could I induce Phyllis to run away with me? That was possible, of course, but I rather doubted if she would care to take such an extreme step until every other means had proved unsuccessful. Then what was to be done? I began to wish that Beckenham would return in order that we might consult together.

Half an hour later our lunch was ready, but still no sign came of the youth. Where could he have got to? I waited an hour and then fell to work. Three o'clock arrived and still no sign--four, five, and even six. By this time I was in a fever of anxiety. I remembered the existence of the man who had followed us from Melbourne, and Beckenham's trusting good nature. Then and there I resolved, if he did not return before half-past seven, to set off for the nearest police-station and have a search made for him. Slowly the large hand of the clock went round, and when, at the time stated, he had not appeared, I donned my hat and, inquiring the way, set off for the home of the law.

On arriving there and stating my business I was immediately conducted to the inspector in charge, who questioned me very closely as to Beckenham's appearance, age, profession, etc. Having done this, he said:--

"But what reason have you, sir, for supposing that the young man has been done away with? He has only been absent from his abode, according to your statement, about eight or nine hours."

"Simply because," I answered, "I have the best of reasons for knowing that ever since his arrival in Australia he has been shadowed. This morning he said he would only go for a short stroll before lunch, and I am positively certain, knowing my anxiety about him, he would not have remained away so long of his own accord without communicating with me."

"Is there any motive you can assign for this shadowing?"

"My friend is heir to an enormous property in England. Perhaps that may assist you in discovering one?"

"Very possibly. But still I am inclined to think you are a little hasty in coming to so terrible a conclusion, Mr. ----?"

"Hatteras is my name, and I am staying at the General Officer Hotel in Palgrave Street."

"Well, Mr. Hatteras, if I were you I would go back to your hotel. You will probably find your friend there eating his dinner and thinking about instituting a search for you. If, however, he has not turned up, and does not do so by to-morrow morning, call here again and report the matter, and I will give you every assistance."

Thanking him for his courtesy I left the station and walked quickly back to the hotel, hoping to find Beckenham safely returned and at his dinner. But when the landlady met me in the verandah, and asked if I had any news of my friend, I realized that a disappointment was in store for me. By this time the excitement and worry were getting too much for me. What with Nikola, the spy, Beckenham, Phyllis, the unknown lover, and old Mr. Wetherell, I had more than enough to keep my brain occupied. I sat down on a chair on the verandah with a sigh and reviewed the whole case. Nine o'clock struck by the time my reverie was finished. Just as I did so a newspaper boy came down the street lustily crying his wares. To divert my mind from its unpleasant thoughts, I called him up and bought an Evening Mercury. Having done so I passed into my sitting-room to read it. The first, second, and third pages held nothing of much interest to me, but on the fourth was an item which was astonishing enough to almost make my hair stand on end. It ran as follows:

IMPORTANT ENGAGEMENT IN HIGH LIFE.

We have it on the very best authority that an engagement will
shortly be announced between a certain illustrious young nobleman,
now a visitor in our city, and the beautiful daughter of one of
Sydney's most prominent politicians, who has lately returned from a
visit to England. The Evening Mercury tenders the young couple
their sincerest congratulations.

Could this be the solution of the whole mystery? Could it be that the engagement of Baxter, the telegram, the idea of travel, the drugging, the imprisonment in Port Said, the substitution of the false marquis, were all means to this end? Was is possible that this man, who was masquerading as a man of title, was to marry Phyllis (for there could be no possible doubt as to the person to whom that paragraph referred)? The very thought of such a thing was not to be endured.

There must be no delay now, I told myself, in revealing all I knew. The villains must be unmasked this very night. Wetherell should know all as soon as I could tell him. As I came to this conclusion I crushed my paper into my pocket and set off, without a moment's delay, for Potts Point. The night was dark, and now a thick drizzle was falling.

Though it really did not take me very long, it seemed an eternity before I reached the house and rang the bell. The butler opened the door, and was evidently surprised to see me. "Is Mr. Wetherell at home?" I asked.

For a moment he looked doubtful as to what he should say, then compromising matters, answered that he would see.

"I know what that means," I said in reply. "Mr. Wetherell is in, but you don't think he'll see me. But he must! I have news for him of the very utmost importance. Will you tell him that?"

He left me and went along the hall and upstairs. Presently he returned, shaking his head.

"I am very sorry, sir, but Mr. Wetherell's answer is, if you have