Tales of terror Chapter 14: Part 14

to drink? And did the Furies who avenge such deeds impel him on that dark and stormy night in the North Sea to end the torture of his accursed earthly life? Who can tell? The sea holds its secrets, and not a scrap of legal evidence could be obtained. But though the law declined the responsibility of fixing the guilt of the dark deed on Silas, there was a consensus of opinion that he was the guilty party. It was a mystery, but the greatest mystery of all was that I, the sceptic, should have been selected by some supernatural power to be the instrument for bringing the foul crime to light. For myself, I attempt no explanation. I have told a true story. Let those who can explain it. I admit now that ‘there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy.’ IV ‘RED LILY’ On one of the wildest nights for which the Bay of Biscay is notorious, the sailing ship ‘Sirocco’ was ploughing her way under close-reefed topsails across that stormy sea. The ‘Sirocco’ was a large, full-rigged vessel, bound from Bombay towards England, her destination being London. She had a mixed cargo, though a large percentage of it was composed of jute. Four months had passed since she cleared from her port of lading, and was towed out of the beautiful harbour of Bombay in a dead calm. For many days after the tug left her the ‘Sirocco’ did nothing but drift with the current. She was as ‘a painted ship upon a painted ocean.’ No breath came out of the sultry heavens to waft her towards her haven in far-away England. It was a bad beginning to the voyage. The time was about the middle of August, and all on board were anxiously looking forward to reaching their destination in time to spend Christmas at home. But as August wore out and September came in, and still the horrid calms continued, pleasant anticipations gave place to despair, for many a thousand leagues of watery wastes had to be sailed before the white cliffs of Albion would gladden the eyes of the wanderers. The crew of the vessel numbered sixty hands all told, and in addition there were twenty saloon passengers. With two of these passengers we have now to deal. The one is a fair young girl, slender, tall, and delicate. She is exceedingly pretty. Her features are regular and delicately chiselled. Her hair is a soft, wavy, golden brown, and her brown eyes are as liquid and gentle as a fawn’s. The pure whiteness of her neck and temples is contrasted by the most exquisite tinge of rose colour in the cheeks, which puts, as it were, a finish upon a perfect picture. The whiteness of her skin, the delicate flush in the face, the brown, flossy hair, the tall, slender, graceful figure were all so suggestive of the purest of flowers that her friends for many years had called her ‘Red Lily.’ Her name was Lily Hetherington, and she yet wanted some months to the completion of her twenty-first birthday. Lily was the daughter of an officer of the Hon. East India Company’s Service--his only daughter, and by him worshipped. For many years he had been stationed in India, and at last, seeing no chance of returning to his wife and family, which consisted of two sons in addition to the girl, he requested them to join him in the East. This request was quickly and gladly complied with, and Mrs. Hetherington and her children started on their journey. Mr. Hetherington at that time was well off, for he had invested all his savings in the Agra and Masterman Bank, and held shares to a large amount in the concern, the stability of which, at that period, no one would have dared to have doubted. Indian officers throughout India swore by it, and they congratulated themselves, as they entrusted their hard won money to the Bank, that they were making splendid provision for their wives and children when those wives and children should become widows and orphans. As Mr. Hetherington possessed considerable influence he had no difficulty in quickly procuring his sons suitable appointments. Fond as he was of his lads, who were aged respectively twenty-two and twenty-four, his love for them was as nothing when compared with that he bore for his beautiful daughter, his ‘Bonnie Red Lily,’ as he called her. Nor was Lily less fond of her father. She was a mere child when he left England, but she had never forgotten him, and never a mail left but it bore from Lily a long and loving epistle to the lonely officer, who was bravely doing his duty in the distant eastern land. One day, soon after her arrival, Mr. Hetherington said to his daughter as they sat in the verandah of the bungalow, ‘Lily, my pet, I have got a little surprise for you.’ ‘Have you, pa dear; and pray what is it?’ she answered. ‘You are such a dear, good kind papa that you are always giving me pleasant surprises.’ ‘Well, yes, of course, I like to give you pleasant surprises, but this one is different from any of the others,’ he returned with a smile, at the same time stroking her soft brown hair, and looking proudly into her beautiful face. ‘Oh, do tell me what it is,’ she exclaimed, as he paused in a tantalising way; ‘do you hear, pa? Don’t keep me in suspense.’ ‘Restrain that woman’s curiosity of yours, my darling, and don’t be impatient.’ ‘I declare you are awfully wicked, papa,’ she returned, with a pretty pout of her red lips. ‘Tell me instantly what it is. I demand to know.’ ‘And so you shall,’ he answered, as he kissed her fondly and patted her head. ‘To-morrow, then, I have a visitor coming to stay with us for a week or two.’ ‘Indeed. Is it a lady or gentleman?’ ‘A gentleman.’ ‘Oh, do tell me what he’s like.’ ‘Well, well, you are a little Miss Curious,’ Mr. Hetherington laughed heartily as he blew a cloud of blue smoke from his cigar into the stagnant air. ‘Not to keep you in suspense any longer, then, the name of my visitor is Dick Fenton, Richard Cronmire Joyce Fenton, to give him his full name. He is a year or two your senior, and a fine, handsome, manly young fellow to boot.’ ‘Indeed,’ muttered Lily, thoughtfully, as she fancied that her father’s words had a hidden meaning. ‘Yes. His father was a very old friend of mine, and we saw long service together. He died some four or five years ago, but before dying he made me promise I would look after his boy, who was an only child and motherless. Of course, I gladly gave this promise, and have sacredly carried it out.’ ‘Ah, what a good, kind, generous man you are,’ Lily said, as she nestled closer to him, and tightened her little white fingers round his brown, hairy hand. ‘I saw there was stuff in the lad, and I took to him almost as if he had been my own son. Unfortunately, my good friend Fenton died poor, and was only enabled to leave three thousand pounds, for which he had insured his life, for his son’s education. I succeeded in getting Dick into one of the Company’s training establishments, and the marked ability he displayed very soon pushed him forward, and having gone through his cadetship with honour and credit, he was appointed a year ago to what in time will be a most lucrative post. I have watched the lad closely, and seen with pride the many noble qualities he possesses, and I have no doubt at all he will distinguish himself. During the years that he has been my _protégé_ I have constantly said to myself, “If my Lily should like Dick, and Dick should like my Lily, they shall be man and wife.”’ ‘Oh, papa!’ exclaimed Lily, as the beautiful tinge in her face deepened to scarlet, that spread to her neck and temples. ‘Why, my darling, why do you blush so? It is surely every honest woman’s desire to become a wife, and I am very anxious to see you comfortably married before I die. Men go off very suddenly in this treacherous country, and I am well worn with service, and cannot hope to last much longer. But, understand me, Lily, pet, your own will and womanly instincts must guide you in this matter. I shall not seek to influence you in any way, and if you have already given your heart to another, if he is an honest and worthy man, even though he be poor as a church mouse, I shall not offer the slightest opposition to your wishes. It is your future happiness I study, and I am not selfish enough to attempt to coerce you into an objectionable union.’ Lily rose and twined her arms round her father’s neck, and pressing her soft, white face to his bronzed cheeks, said: ‘My dear, dear father, I have not given my heart to anyone, and your wishes are mine.’ On the morrow Fenton duly arrived at Mr. Hetherington’s bungalow. He had travelled by dawk from a station near Calcutta; and when he had refreshed himself with a bath, and made himself presentable, Hetherington took him on one side, and said: ‘Dick, lad, I have repeatedly spoken to you about my daughter, and before I introduce you to her, let me say that I shall be proud to have you as a son-in-law, providing that there is the most perfect reciprocal feeling between you and my Lily. I am not a man of many words, and I will content myself with remarking that your father was the very soul of honour. Never disgrace him, and never betray the confidence I repose in you.’ ‘Do not doubt me, sir,’ said Dick. ‘I am indebted to you for everything, and I should be base if I did anything that could inflict pain upon you or yours.’ ‘Bravely said, my boy. God prosper you. Win Lily if you can; but win her as a man should.’ Hetherington had previously made known his wishes to his wife, and she had readily acquiesced in them. Fenton was, as his guardian had described him, a fine, manly, handsome young fellow. His frank, open bearing was well calculated to find favour with women, even if he had not been possessed of good looks. Hetherington and his wife watched the young people narrowly, and they soon saw that a mutual liking for each other was springing up, and before Dick’s leave of two months had expired he and