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Read Ebook: Nevada; or The Lost Mine A Drama in Three Acts by Baker George M George Melville
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Ebook has 306 lines and 15911 words, and 7 pages
THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE DEVIL.
HOW I COME TO HEAR OF THE BEAUTIFUL WHITE DEVIL.
The words of the song seemed strangely out of place in that heathen land, so many thousand miles removed from Costerdom. But the wail of the music had quite a different effect. The singer's voice was distinctly a good one, and he used it with considerable ability:
"She wears an artful bonnet, feathers stuck all on it, Covering a fringe all curled; She's just about the neatest, prettiest, and sweetest Donna in the wide, wide world. And she'll be Mrs. 'Awkins, Mrs. 'Enry 'Awkins, Got her for to name the day. We settled it last Monday, so to church on Sunday, Off we trots the donkey shay.
"Oh, Eliza! Dear Eliza! If you die an old maid You'll only have yourself to blame. D'ye hear Eliza--dear Eliza! Mrs. 'Enry 'Awkins is a fust-class name."
Half a dozen other voices took up the chorus, and sent it rolling away over the litter of sampans alongside the wharf, out to where the red and blue funnel boats lay at anchor half a mile distant. The two players chalked their cues and stopped to participate.
"Oh, Eliza! Dear Eliza! If you die an old maid You'll only have yourself to blame. Oh, Eliza! Dear Eliza! Mrs. 'Enry 'Awkins is a fust-class name."
The music ceased amid a burst of applause.
"Sixee, sixee--sevenee-three," repeated the marker mechanically.
"Give me the rest, you almond-eyed lubber," cried Peckle with sudden energy; "we'll return to business, for I'll be hanged if I'm going to let myself be beaten by the bo'sun tight and the midshipmite of a bottle-nosed, unseaworthy Chinese contraband."
Maloney knocked the ash off his cigar on his chair-arm and said, by way of explanation, "Our friend Peckle, gentlemen, chowed last night at Government House. He hasn't sloughed his company manners yet."
Benwell sent the red whizzing up the table into the top pocket, potted his opponent into the right-hand middle, by way of revenge, and then gave the customary miss in baulk.
The newcomer was a short podgy man, with a clean-shaven red face, white teeth, very prominent eyes, large ears, and almost marmalade-coloured hair. He was in a profuse perspiration, and so much out of breath that for quite two minutes he was unable to answer their salutations.
"Poddy is suffering from a bad attack of suppressed information," said Benwell, who had been examining him critically. "Better prescribe for him, De Normanville. Ah, I forgot, you don't know one another. Let me introduce you--Mr. Horace Venderbrun, Dr. De Normanville. Now you're acquent, as they say in the farces."
"Out with it, Poddy," continued Peckle, digging him in the ribs with the butt of his cue. "If you don't tell us soon, we shall be sorrowfully compelled to postpone our engagements to-morrow in order to witness your interment in the Happy Valley."
"Hear, hear, Poddy. A dashed good beginning!"
"Shut up, Peckle, and give the minstrel a chance. Now, my Blondel, pipe your tuneful lay."
"Well--well, Skipper--Perkins, martinet and teetotaller; chief officer, Bradburn, otherwise the China Sea Liar! What about her? She sailed this evening for Shanghai?"
"With a million and a half of specie aboard. Don't forget that! Went ashore in the Ly-ee-moon Pass at seven o'clock. Surrounded by junks instantly. Skipper despatched third officer in launch full steam for assistance. Gunboat went down post haste, and, like most gunboats, arrived too late to be of any use. Apologies, Peckle, old man! Skipper and ten men shot, chief officer dirked, first saloon passengers of importance cleaned of their valuables and locked up in their own berths. The bullion room was then rifled, and every red cent of the money is gone--goodness knows where. Now, what d'you think of that for news?"
"My gracious!"
"What junks were they?"
"Nobody knows."
"The Ly-ee-moon Pass, too! Right under our very noses. Criminy! Won't there be a row!"
"The Beautiful White Devil again, I suppose?"
"Looks like it, don't it? Peckle, my boy, from this hour forward the papers will take it up, and--well, if I know anything of newspapers, they'll drop it on to you gunboat fellows pretty hot."
"If I were the British Navy I'd be dashed if I'd be beaten by a woman."
"Hear, hear, to that. Now for your defence, Peckle."
"Go ahead; let me have it. I'm down and I've got no friends; but it's all very well for you gentlemen of England, who sit at home in ease, to sneer. If you only knew as much as we do of the lady you wouldn't criticise so freely. Personally, I believe she's a myth."
"Don't try it, old man. We all know the Lords Commissioners will stand a good deal, but, believe me, they'll never swallow that. They've had too many proofs to the contrary lately."
I thought it was time to interfere.
Each of the four men started in to explain. I held up my hand in entreaty.
"As you are strong, be merciful," I cried. "Not all at once."
One of the silent-footed China-boys brought me a match for my cigar, and held it until I had obtained a light. Then, throwing myself back in the long cane chair, I bade them work their wicked wills.
"Let Poddy tell," said Peckle. "He boasts the most prolific imagination. Go on, old man, and don't spare him."
"But what reason have you for connecting the Beautiful White Devil with that affair?"
"White yacht hanging about all the time. Known to be hers. Signals passed between them, and when the money was secured it was straightway carried on board her."
"All right. Go on."
"Extraordinary. Has anybody ever seen her?"
"I should just think so. Sultan of Surabaya, Vesey, Native Prince, and all the people staying at this house when she was here."
"What description do they give of her?"
"Quite a young woman--eight-and-twenty at most. Tall and willowy. Beautiful features, clear cut as a cameo--exquisite complexion and rippling golden hair--a voice like a flute, figure like Venus, and eyes that look through yours into the uttermost depths of your soul."
"Bravo, Poddy! The little man's getting quite enthusiastic."
"And do you mean to tell me that with the English, American, French, German, Chinese, and Japanese fleets patrolling these waters, it's impossible to catch her?"
"Quite--up to the present. Look at the facts of the case. She's here to-day, and gone to-morrow. White yacht seen near Singapore to-day--copper-coloured off Macassar on Thursday--black with white ports near Shanghai the week following. The police and the poor old Admiral are turning gray under the strain."
"Don't say that or you will. Nobody ever knows where she'll turn up next. It is certain that she has agents everywhere, and that she's in league with half the junk pirates along the coast. Glad I'm not a man worth abducting."
"But in spite of what you say, I can hardly believe that it's possible for a woman to carry on such a trade. It's like a romance."
"He must be a man without imagination."
"He's a man blessed with good sound common sense. That's what he is."
"All the same, as I said before, I'd like to see her."
"Well, I shouldn't be surprised if your wish is gratified before long. They're simply bound to catch her; the wonder to me is that they haven't done so months ago."
"It seems incredible that she should have escaped so long."
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