READY-MONEY MORTIBOY.

Grey River Argus, Volume XII, Issue 1462, 10 April 1873, Page 3

READY -MONEY MORTIBOY.

A MATTER-OFrFACT STORY. V ' , Chapter VI. It is the duty 6f the historian, painful ... though it sometimes be, to preserve impartiality in the description of his '"pjbaracters : neither, on the one hand, to be so far blinded by admiration bf a hero's virtues as ; to forget Ms faults ; nor, on the othei*, to visit his errors with so heavy a displeasure that any? .gleams of.. virtue may be quite ovei^ ooked arid forgotten, In obedience to this rule, it is incumbent upon me to state plainly, what has already beea

intimated, that Richard > Mortiboy the younger was by no means the manner of man that he wished to appear in the eyes of his confiding ; father.. There was no cotton estate ; there were no mines ; there was itto sunken treasure : there was nothing but a pocketful of money, gotten together by various shifts and devices more than questionable. And right in the unsuspecting heart of Market Basing — as innocent a town as any in this guileless realm of Englandthere had dropped,- though not from Heaven, one of the most unscrupulous, crafty, and thorough-going rascals that might be .found in a long day's jnarch ; even by Ariel the rapid. : . In one word, Dick Mortiboy was simply the greatest ruffian and scoundrel unhanged. We, who write history, would fain have all our characters virtuous. How sweet and easy-flowing would be the years ; how quiet and gentle the conversations; how empty of pity and terror the lives ; and, oh ! how bereft .of interest would be our books ! For when the villain ceases out of the land, and the voice of the tiyant is heard no more, history will cease too; because there will be nothing left to chronicle but the wooing of turtles. " The purpose for which snakes was built," writes an American natural philosopher, "is not yet explored." But here is doubtl»ss one reason why rogues and rascals were constructed, and why villainy and roguery are allowed to prosper : to furnish material wherewith the historian is enabled to point his moral and adorn his tale. ; It' was now twelve years since a certain cold, wild, night in ITovember, when, about nine o'clock, Mr Mortiboy, senior, followed by his son — then a tall stripling of eighteen — -walked down that 1 darkpassageinthehouse which' we know, and opened the door. The wind blew in, and the rain was pouring down. The father was trembling with passion : •the son: cold and stolid. Mr Mortiboy pointed to the darkness, and said, in constrained, hard tones— "Go. Darken my doors no more. You' are no longer my. son. " The son; said nothing ; but looked up and-down the street, as if inspecting the state of the weather, before taking a walk. • ' *' Go," repeated his father. r ■ ' "One may as well first, put oh a great coat, on a night like tliis," returned the boy, coolly. "Had you n6fc better shut the door, father, for fear of catching cold, while I delay you for one minute?" His father took no notice, but stood steadfastly gazing at him. The young man, taking his time to get comfortably into the great doat, selected his umbrella from the stand, and put on his hat. Then he took out ; his -purse' and looked at it. j w "You must give me some money," he said* .. ? , .. r ■ . ; " Write /tp me from London, and ,1 will teUjyou^whatl will do for you. Nowy go. 'Your" aunt shall not know Why."'"' ' ' '.. .;...,.. ,„....., Two days later,, a lettej came from .London, containing nothing, but young •Mbrtiboy's address. / To this the father replied by a ten pound note,, without' a word df forgiveness or' : of blame ; and from that time all correspondence had ceased, and Dick Mortiboy 's name was no more mentioned in his father's chouse.' ; ■.■■:•■.■■_ ,;." r; ; ; . :!• It was understodd vaguely' that he had " done something." ; The young man, with his' ten pound note,,. and five or six pounds besides, ythich he got by selling his watch and chain, went to the docks, and looked foi a .ship about to sail— wliither he cared not What he wanted — for very special and cogent reasons of his own— was to get away at once, and never to come b^k) again at all. : He found one clearing out, .with her cargo on board, her papers ready, bound for Paliniste Island, and going tc sail the very next day. He topk a second-class passage for ten. pounds getting a half-promise from the pursei that, if he made himself useful oh the voyage, he might have some of the ten pounds ret^ned on their arrival. And a few days afterwards, young MJortiboy was sailing merrily across the Bay of Biscay, his cares "all thrown to the winds, delighted at' 'the prospect of seeing ; the world,, and getting away from the difficulties and debts which had driven; him tori convey; the wise call it — imitate his father's signature so carefully, with all its dots and flourishes that not even the bank clerks; could tell that it was not the genuine autograph of Ready-money Mortiboy. He did,,more tha,n -make himself useful to the purser— he did all his work for" hint ; and that so easily, lightly, and well, that the ship's books were never better, kept. The piirser showed his gratitude. He not oniy bestowed a daily ration of grog upon him— wliicli was really a delicate attention-^but lie persuaded .the skipper- to enter him on the books as purser's clerk ; to, give him back his passage money ; and when the ship, aftef three mßhths' voyage was tuggfed into iheharbour y of Port Dauphin, iiTthe Island of PalmisleJ "to i present him with £ ; tMfer by way of acknowledgement, , And, then, when Dick had refused an offer to be takln back- again \ m the i same < ship, i still as clerk, his patron sent him to a business house in the town, 'with a recommendation to the effect that, Mr Mellon—an Dick calletl himself— was a young man of excellent business habits, and respectable connexions. , The,latter clause, being put in as likely to help, was certainly nojb a, greater -untruth— -although the purser knew nothing whatever abdtet' his relatiyesf^than 1 "fa^tbld"*

thousand times a-day % people win write testimonials alike for the deserv ing and undeserving poor. The recommendation was accepted w sufficient; and Dick found himself 01 what seemed to him-r-he had never be fore drawn more than a pound a weel —a princely salary of £150 a-year, ii one of the best business houses of Por Dauphin. His 'hours were not long and he had his day, after four o'clock entirely to himself. Now, this was th< unfortunate part of it. From foui o'clock till six — that is to say, in th< cool of the evening— one might strol under the trees; one might climb th< hills — though this was hot work; 01 one might sit and do nothing. At six. just as the sun went down, came the " table d' h6te," which brought you well on to seven. And here, Diek — whose income was not much more than enough to find his breakfast and pay the rent of the little wooden box he slept in, for which he paid a pound a-month — ought to have ended his day, and gone home to bed. Unfortunately, there was a billiard-room in the hotel, and he found it pleasanter to smoke his cigar — cigars, even at a half-penny a-piece, the current price in Palmistie,. mount up— than to go home to his dreary room, and go to bed. Added to which, the younger Mortiboy had the eye of a Roberts for billiards. So he used to play, and make his little pot every night. Then the descent of Avernus, which had been checked by the voyage out, began over again. For to billiards was speedily added brandy and soda ; and. not as the weeks passed on, a little game at " ecarte"," where his winnings at billiards were generally transferred to his opponents' pockets. Presently, these proceedings coming to the ears of his employersrespectable and, considering all things, even God-fearing merchants — it was not astonishing^that Mr Mellon received one morning a polite, but firm, intimation that his services would not bo required after the "end of the current month. ; But i Dick again fell on his feet. In Palmiste are coffee and sugar estates. And among the planters who sold their sugar to Dick's employers was an old Englishman, who had been struck by Dick s handsome face and his frank manner. Learning that he w?° without employment, he offered him place on his own estate, where his so] business would be to pay the coolies er gaged for the canes/, look after their n tions, and keep the' accounts. And h bargained to give him, over and abov a house and allowance, fifteen pound a-month in hard cash. Dickaccepte the offer with joy, and went down.t the Hautbois estate with the delight o a schoolboy. For it was characterise of this young man, that no sooner wa he put of a scrape than all his goo spirits returned to him. For some months all went wel Hautbois was at the oth^r side of th island, some forty miles from the tow: of Port Dauphin. There were n< billiards, no " ecarteV' and no loafer about Hotel verandahs ready to pro pose or to accept a brandy aad soda, oi the slightest possible pretext. It is tr'u that there was no society ; but he ha< work during the day; and was suffi ciently tired at night to go to bed witi pleasure at nine o'clock. Hautboi: stood ten miles away from any othe house : an estate cut out of the virgii forest, which here sloped down to thi very sea shore, until it merged into thi mangroves, where they grew standiu^ thickly together, with their unwhole some leaves, and their long, slim] roots — the nursiqg places and cradle! of the young sharks, who disported themselves about the tendrils in th< shallow water in all the innocence o; childhood. Round the estate lay the deep, silent woods, where there were no birds, because the monkeys ate the eggs, or the hurricanes blew the nests away out to sea. Away in the glades you came npon deer that wereonty frightened at the sight of man foi twelve weeks in the year, during the shooting season — a periodical time oi misery, whose approach they yearly expected with terror, and themselves safejly passed, through with a lively gratitude. • Wild ' and fearful beasts, there are none in Palmiste. Unlike most of the other West Indian Islands, it has no snakes ; and, with the exception of a centipede' or so, a big spider of ferocious and bloodthirsty build, aud a few scorpions, there is nothing in all Palmiste to scare a girl. To the north rose of the mountains, tall and wooded. And over all these lay the bright,, soft blue, never hidden by fog* seldom by cloud, with a warmth which got into the bones, and made one lazy and thoughtful, and; .inclined for rest; an air which! makes men good, because it is too much trouble to be anything else. Here for awhile Dick. was happy. .Mr .Oswald, his employer, afcked him to dinner ; talked abqut England, and the old days when he was a young man, and George the Third was King ; told old stories of his : Oxford 1 life,, and of the princes, and their wild doings; and surrounded the young man with a pure and peaceful atmosphere, which made him for awhile look back on his past with shame and regret. And then old Mrs Oswald took a fancy to him : made him come and talk to her when her husband waV lip in 1 town: inquired into, the condition, of his wardrobe. This was scanty : Mr Oswald made it plentiful ; saw that his little house was properly furnished, and made comfortable for him ; and instructed him in the best way of dealing with his In- j dians. > His duties took up> about three' hours in the day. Then he would go, over to the mill, and watch the sugar-making.

By degrees lie grow expert at this, as in anything which he took up ; and Mr Oswald added another five pounds a- ', month to his salary, and made him one of the mill superintendents. On Saturday he had to overlook the distribution of rations to the men. On these days, there was a great scene round the storehouse over which he presided — sis the Indians came accompanied by their wives and children to receive the weekly dole of rice, and grain, and salt fish. It was then that Diek — who loved nothing 1 so well as to command and administer — was in all his pride. He learned to talk Hindustani, and achieved a reputation— easy enough, but not entirely without its merits — of being able to swear as hard as any coolie of them all in his own tongue. Dick ruled them with a rod of iron. Standing over his stores and his accounts, with his long, thin figure, his flashing eye, his ready hand — which many an Indian remembered as being heavier than most which he had encountered—and, above all, his ready tongue, he was at once the terror and the admiration of the shrinking crowd which gathered round him, and received in such silence as was compatible with their stage of civilisation, the weekly allowances. So Dick's days passed pleasantly away, and the memory of the past troubled him little. Came presently the hunting season, when Mr Oswald gave his great parties. To these the young accountant was asked, and discovered other talents. For the which had been chiefly trained at a billiardtable was found the truest of any with a rifle, and most of the honors of the hunt fell to young Mellon, of flautbois estate. He could ride, too because he belonged to a riding country, and many were the mounts he had got as a boy from his cousin Heathcote or his uncle, Mr Melliship. So it came about that, in spite of his inferior prsition — one generally held up mulattoes of the island — young Mellon began to be known as a gentleman of station not contemptible, and manners which belonged to a higher grade. And since no one is satisfied to recognise a man as a friend till a coherent and intelligible story of at least ten years of antecedents has been made out about him, it was whispered abroad that young Mellon was one that had quarrelled with his father, a man of colossal income, and had run away. This was spread abroad so industriously that it ended by being received as gospel, and Dick found all doors open to him. No harm was done so long as he remained at Hautbois, or only went about to the neighboring estates. In these visits, he made the acquaintance of the young ladies, who, led lives as dull as ditchwater in their secluded homes, and were delighted to get some one, if only an " employe " on an estate to talk to. And such an " employe!" : — a mysterious stranger with the manners of a nobleman ; a tall and graceful youth of twenty, with all the beauty of a hero of romance, all the possible passion which lay undoubtedly hidden behind black curls and splendid eyes, and a little dark moustache, and a cheek which had hardly yet forgotten how to blush. And so the fame of him went up even to the great and important city of Port Dauphin ; and when the races came, and the Governor gave his ball, and the garrison theirs, and the bachelors' theirs, and there weredinnerseveryday, and dances when there were no balls, interest was used to get Mr Mellon cards of invitation ; he, too, with Mr and Mrs Oswald, went up to town to enjoy himself. We cannot, historians -though we are, linger over this most fatal week. Dick had been six months with Mr Oswald. It is easy, therefore, to calculate how much money lie had saved, at the rate often pounds a-raonth. With this in his pocket, he took a chamber at the hotel for the week of the races and prepared to be happy. Everybody liked him : the young ladies because he was handsome, and danced well, and looked like a young "chevalier;" the . men because he was never ill-natured, never in the way, never in the least snobbish — a thing which could not always be said of the Palmiste bachelors —and because he would sit up all night, sing a good song, and play a game of cards, when the dancing was over. This little game of cards it was that brought him to grief; for Dick went back at the end of the week with a sorrowful heart, and fifty pounds to pay in the course of the next month — a debt of honour. He was profoundly miserable. Among all his acquaintances he had not one friend ; there was not a soul in all Palmiste to whom he could have gone for the loan of a ten pound note, except old Mrs Oswald. If only the young man had poured out his troubles; to her, . all would have been well with him. For the heart of the childless old lady } r eamed to the bright and handsome lad, who might have been her own son, and who looked so innocent and happy. But Dick, had already plucked the fatal apple which brings man to grief. • That is, he had passed the portal which leads from innocence to guilt; and having passed through it once, found little difficulty in going through again. * "Cc nest que le premier pas gui coute I corte," and the bravo who can number his hundred murders has almost forgotten the terrible heart-sickness that came upon him when he committed the first. In the month the debt was paid, and Dick freed from all his difficulties. He went on with iis duties, but : he looked pale and hamased. Mrs Os--1 wald used to ask hin\ if, he mxe •ill, ■

and made him dine at the house often er

— thinking, in her kindness, that he wanted society. And her husband offered him a holiday at Port Dauphin for a fortnight, if that would do him good. But Dick shook his head, tried to look pleased, and declined. Thus two or three months passed away. One day 'Mr Oswald received a letter, which he read with perplexity. He had his horses put in at once, and drove away to town. Mr Oswald did J not come back that night. That was nothing unusual. But he came the next day, accompanied by two men whom Dick knew, when he saw them to be inspectors of police. As the carriage drove up, he was crossing«Jthe open space between the mill and his own cottage. "Why did he stop, and turn as if for flight; and then, trembling in all his limbs, seem to lose in a moment all his pride and manliness, and crouch together as he continued his walk? Mr Oswald called him. The old 1 gentleman was perfectly haggard with anxiety and terror. To look at him, you would have thought that he was himself the criminal whom the officers came to look for. Dick tried to pull himself together. He succeeded to a small extent, and advanced with a conscious swagger to the verandah where his employer was standing. "Mr Mellon," said Mr Oswald, "a very painful thing has happened. Some person has forged a cheque for fifty pounds, and the money has been paid. The forged cheque has been placed by the bank in the hands of the Crown Solicitor, and they — they — say it is you." He cleared his throat, "Of course, I am quite certain it is a mistake." " Quite, sir," said Dick, with a nervous twitching of the mouth. "These gentlemen — " He looked at the inspector. "We have to arrest you, Mr Mellon." "Oh ! May I have a word with you, Mr Oswald?" The inspectors, in reply to a look of interrogation from the old planter, nodded ; and Mr Oswald led his clerk into the dinning-room. As they came in at one door, Mi's Oswald entered at another. Dick did not see her. " I do not want to waste your time, sir," he said. " You have been very kind to me — more that kind ; but the thing is true." "What thing?" asked Mr Oswald. " I am arrested for forging a cheque. It is quite true. I did it. You will not tell them in court what I have told you, I am certain, Mr Oswald. I gambled during the race week, and lost all I had, and fifty pounds besides. How was I to pay it ?" " Why did you not ask me ?" cried Mrs Oswald. " Oh ! my boy, why did you not ask me ]" "I wish I had," said Dick, me*- %. "If you must forge some, one's name," said Mr Oswald, almost weeping, " why in Heaven's name, why not have forged mine I" ' " I wish I had," said Dick, looking at him with real emotion. "I wish to God I had !^ • -r\