Adventure stories; Fiction; Mystery fiction; Short stories
‘Understand one thing,’ he said, with great energy. ‘I will never
marry.’
‘I had not ventured to propose it,’ I exclaimed, unable to restrain my
mirth; ‘I only seek to be conveyed to England, the natural home of the
escaped slave.’
‘Well,’ returned Sir George, ‘frankly I owe you something for this
exhilarating news; besides, your father was of use to me. Now, I have
made a small competence in business—a jewel mine, a sort of naval agency,
et cætera, and I am on the point of breaking up my company, and retiring
to my place in Devonshire to pass a plain old age, unmarried. One good
turn deserves another: if you swear to hold your tongue about this
island, these little bonfire arrangements, and the whole episode of my
unfortunate marriage, why, I’ll carry you home aboard the _Nemorosa_.’ I
eagerly accepted his conditions.
‘One thing more,’ said he. ‘My late wife was some sort of a sorceress
among the blacks; and they are all persuaded she has come alive again in
your agreeable person. Now, you will have the goodness to keep up that
fancy, if you please; and to swear to them, on the authority of Hoodoo or
whatever his name may be, that I am from this moment quite a sacred
character.’
‘I swear it,’ said I, ‘by my father’s memory; and that is a vow that I
will never break.’
‘I have considerably better hold on you than any oath,’ returned Sir
George, with a chuckle; ‘for you are not only an escaped slave, but have,
by your own account, a considerable amount of stolen property.’
I was struck dumb; I saw it was too true; in a glance, I recognised that
these jewels were no longer mine; with similar quickness, I decided they
should be restored, ay, if it cost me the liberty that I had just
regained. Forgetful of all else, forgetful of Sir George, who sat and
watched me with a smile, I drew out Mr. Caulder’s pocket-book and turned
to the page on which the dying man had scrawled his testament. How shall
I describe the agony of happiness and remorse with which I read it! for
my victim had not only set me free, but bequeathed to me the bag of
jewels.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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