PAGE 28
Trent’s Trust
by
“But you have a lawyer?” said the surprised Randolph.
“Not yet. I’m my own lawyer in this matter until I get fairly under way. I’ve studied the law enough to know that as soon as I prove that I’m alive the case must go on on account of my heir, whether I choose to cry quits or not. And it’s just THAT that holds my hand.”
Randolph stared at the extraordinary man before him. For a moment, as the strange story of his miraculous escape and his still more wonderful indifference to it all recurred to his mind, he felt a doubt of the narrator’s truthfulness or his sanity. But another glance at the sailor’s frank eyes dispelled that momentary suspicion. He held out his hand as frankly, and grasping Captain Dornton’s, said, “I will go.”
V
Randolph’s request for a four months’ leave of absence was granted with little objection and no curiosity. He had acquired the confidence of his employers, and beyond Mr. Revelstoke’s curt surprise that a young fellow on the road to fortune should sacrifice so much time to irrelevant travel, and the remark, “But you know your own business best,” there was no comment. It struck the young man, however, that Mr. Dingwall’s slight coolness on receiving the news might be attributed to a suspicion that he was following Miss Avondale, whom he had fancied Dingwall disliked, and he quickly made certain inquiries in regard to Miss Eversleigh and the possibility of his meeting her. As, without intending it, and to his own surprise, he achieved a blush in so doing, which Dingwall noted, he received a gracious reply, and the suggestion that it was “quite proper” for him, on arriving, to send the young lady his card.
Captain Dornton, under the alias of “Captain Johns,” was ready to catch the next steamer to the Isthmus, and in two days they sailed. The voyage was uneventful, and if Randolph had expected any enthusiasm on the part of the captain in the mission on which he was now fairly launched, he would have been disappointed. Although his frankness was unchanged, he volunteered no confidences. It was evident he was fully acquainted with the legal strength of his claim, yet he, as evidently, deferred making any plan of redress until he reached England. Of Miss Eversleigh he was more communicative. “You would have liked her better, my lad, it you hadn’t been bewitched by the Avondale woman, for she is the whitest of the Dorntons.” In vain Randolph protested truthfully, yet with an even more convincing color, that it had made no difference, and he HAD liked her. The captain laughed. “Ay, lad! But she’s a poor orphan, with scarcely a hundred pounds a year, who lives with her guardian, an old clergyman. And yet,” he added grimly, “there are only three lives between her and the property–mine, Bobby’s, and Bill’s–unless HE should marry and have an heir.”
“The more reason why you should assert yourself and do what you can for her now,” said Randolph eagerly.
“Ay,” returned the captain, with his usual laugh, “when she was a child I used to call her my little sweetheart, and gave her a ring, and I reckon I promised to marry her, too, when she grew up.”
The truthful Randolph would have told him of Miss Evereleigh’s gift, but unfortunately he felt himself again blushing, and fearful lest the captain would misconstrue his confusion, he said nothing.
Except on this occasion, the captain talked with Randolph chiefly of his later past,–of voyages he had made, of places they were passing, and ports they visited. He spent much of the time with the officers, and even the crew, over whom he seemed to exercise a singular power, and with whom he exhibited an odd freemasonry. To Randolph’s eyes he appeared to grow in strength and stature in the salt breath of the sea, and although he was uniformly kind, even affectionate, to him, he was brusque to the other passengers, and at times even with his friends the sailors. Randolph sometimes wondered how he would treat a crew of his own. He found some answer to that question in the captain’s manner to Jack Redhill, the abstractor of the portmanteau, and his old shipmate, who was accompanying the captain in some dependent capacity, but who received his master’s confidences and orders with respectful devotion.