One Maid's Mischief Part 69

"Look here, Bolter, you want an excuse for one of your gold hunts--your Ophir explorations. Why don't you go, then, without all this childish excuse? You are your own master."

The doctor was so taken aback by his friend's onslaught that he shook his head vigorously.

"Well, suppose we say Now that Mrs Bolter is away?" said the Resident, smiling.

"Hadn't we better drop that line of argument?" said the doctor, uneasily. "Really, Harley, you know, it's too bad--'pon my honour it is. It isn't gentlemanly!"

"My dear Bolter," began the Resident.

"There are private matters!" cried the doctor, fuming, "upon which no man ought to touch, and my domestic relations are of that kind!"

"I should not have spoken," said the Resident, "only you--a man who can do as he likes about going out collecting--came to me with such a weak piece of sham by way of excuse for your actions, Doctor, I blush for you!"

"Well, come, I will be honest with you; I am going out collecting and exploring."

"Of course you are. I knew."

"Stop a moment," exclaimed the doctor, "let me finish. I should not go, only the idea occurred to me that I might perhaps get upon the track of that poor girl! If I do, I shall follow it to the end."

The Resident said something in a hasty, indistinct tone, and the doctor stared at him, quite startled by his manner.

"Why, Harley!" he exclaimed, "one would think that you were hard touched in that direction!"

"Touched!" cried the Resident, recovering his equanimity, and putting on his official mask. "Why man, of what stuff do you suppose I am made?

Am I not answerable to Government as well as to my own conscience for the welfare of all who are here; and do you suppose that I can bear this terrible visitation, even after this length of time, with equanimity?"

"No, no, of course not--of course not," cried the doctor, hastily.

"Well, there, go, and good speed to you. I sincerely hope that you may discover something. Would you like Sergeant Harris with you?"

"No, no, certainly not! I believe in going quietly and almost alone.

Look here, Harley, you would trust me entirely if you were unwell. Now suppose you do the same over this matter."

The Resident nodded.

"Now, to tap this subject once again--repet.i.tion though it may seem-- tell me, after due thought, what is your opinion now? Do you still suspect Murad?"

"I cannot say," replied the Resident. "I did suspect him, but he has been so earnest in his offers of help, and his men have joined so thoroughly with ours in searching the river and scouring the jungle-paths, that there are times when I cannot believe him guilty."

"Have you heard any more from your fresh allies?"

"Nothing," replied the Resident. "They confess themselves at fault; while Murad has been here this morning to tell me that he was put upon a new scent yesterday, but that it turned out to be a false one. This man puzzles me, clever as I thought myself, for I have not found out yet whether or no he has been throwing dust in my eyes. Probably I never shall."

"I am afraid he is deep," said the doctor, thoughtfully.

"Very deep or very shallow," said the Resident. "Some day, perhaps, we shall know. You are going up the river, then? When do you start?"

"As soon as I have had a little chat upon the subject with you know. I will not be very long away, Harley, and you will take care of my people like the rest--I mean have an eye on home."

"Go, and good luck go with you," said the Resident warmly. "Trust me, Bolter, I will do my best."

"You don't think, then, I ought to stay?"

"No; we have done all we can. Who knows but what you may hit upon some clue in your wanderings."

"Ah! who knows!" said the doctor. "More wonderful things have happened, eh?"

"Chance sometimes solves problems that hard work has not mastered, Bolter," said the Resident, smiling. "There, good-bye!"

"Good-bye," said the doctor, shaking hands heartily; and leaving Neil Harley's room, he began to wipe his face.

"I'm afraid I've been acting like a terrible humbug," he muttered, "for I have not the remotest hope of finding Helen Perowne. I wish I were not such a moral coward over such things as this. Poor old Harley! he's terribly cut up about matters, and I must seem strangely unfeeling.

What a girl that was!

"Tut--tut--tut!" he exclaimed. "Why do I speak of her as gone? What a girl she is! Well, so far so good. Harley makes no objection to my going away. Now let us see what the general will say."

Doctor Bolter felt that he had his most terrible task to perform in getting leave of his wife, and he returned home with a peculiar sensation of dread.

"It is very strange," he said; "but I am getting nervous I think. I never feel it at any other time but when I am going to make some proposal to Mrs Bolter."

To his great discomposure he found the lady within. This might have been looked upon as an advantage but he was not, he said, quite prepared; and he sat listening to her accounts of Mr Perowne's state, and Grey Stuart's kindly help. She suddenly turned upon him:

"Henry," she exclaimed, "You were not thinking, of what I said."

"I--I beg your pardon, my dear," he replied. "Of what were you thinking, then?" The doctor hesitated a moment, and then he felt that the time had come for speaking.

"I was thinking, my dear, that no better opportunity is likely to offer for one of my expeditions."

Mrs Bolter looked at him rather wistfully for a few moments, and then said, with a sigh: "Perhaps not, Henry. You had better go."

"Do you mean it, Mary?" he said, eagerly. "If you think the station can be left in safety, perhaps you had better go," she said, quietly. "I will have Grey Stuart to stay with me. I will not stand in your way, Henry, if you wish to leave."

"It almost seems too bad," he said, "but I should really like to go for a day or two, Mary. Harley says he can spare me, and no better chance is likely to come than now."

"Then by all means go," said Mrs Doctor, "only pray take care, and remember, Henry," she whispered affectionately, "I am alone now."

Vowing that those last words would make him come home far more quickly than he had intended, the doctor prepared the few necessaries he always took upon such occasions, and was about to start, when there was a fresh impediment in the person of Mrs Barlow, who came in, looking the picture of woe, and ready to shake hands effusively, and to kiss Mrs Bolter against her will.

"Going out, doctor?" she said.

"Yes, ma'am, for some days."

"But you will come to my house first? there is an injured man there. He came and begged me to fetch you to him, for he could not come himself."

"A Malay?"

"Yes; a native. And he begged so hard that I was compelled to come."