LITMIR.BIZ

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shameful story told, the father said, "Things were looking up with me, but here is another knock-down blow, and from my own flesh and blood. I accept it, and will submit once more to be ruined by you."

      "Bless you, father, bless you," whined Chaytor, taking his father's hand and attempting to fondle it. Mr. Chaytor plucked his hand away.

      "There is, however, a condition attached to the promise."

      "What condition?" faltered Chaytor.

      "That you leave England and never return. Do you hear me? Never. You will go to the other end of the world, where you will end your days.

      "To Australia?"

      "To Australia. When you quit this country I wish never to hear from you; I shall regard you as dead. You shall no longer trade upon your mother's weak love for you. I will not argue with you. Accept or refuse."

      "I accept."

      "Very well. Go from this house and never let me look upon your face again."

      "Can I not see my mother?" whined Chaytor, "to wish her good-bye?"

      "No. You want to hatch further troubles. You shall not do so. Quit my house."

      With head bent low in mock humility, Chaytor left the house. He had no sincere wish to see his mother; he had got out of her all he could, and she was of no use to him in the future. The promise his father made was fulfilled; the fresh forgeries he had perpetrated were bought up, but one still remained of which he had made no mention. This was a bill for a large amount which he had accepted in the name of Rivington, Sons and Rivington. It had still two months to run, and Chaytor determined to remain in England till within a week or two of its becoming due; something might turn up which would enable him to meet it. He loved the excitement of English life; Australia was banishment; but perhaps after all, if he were forced to go it might be the making of him. He had read of rough men making fortunes in a week on the goldfields. Why should not he?

      The last blow proved too much for Mr. Chaytor; it broke him up utterly. He was seized with a serious illness which reduced him to imbecility. The home had to be sold, and he and his wife removed to lodgings, one small room at the top of a house in a poor neighbourhood. There poverty fell upon them like a wolf. Five weeks afterwards Chaytor, slouching through the streets on a rainy night, saw his mother begging in the roadway. The poor soul stood mute, with a box of matches in her hand. Chaytor turned and fled.

      "I am the unluckiest dog that ever was born," he muttered. "Just as I was going to see if I could get anything out of her!"

      It was now imperative that he should leave England, and he managed to get a passage in a sailing vessel as assistant steward at a shilling a month. He obtained it by means of forged letters of recommendation, and he went out in a false name. This he would have retained had it not been that shortly after his arrival in Australia he met a man who had known him in London, and who addressed him by his proper name. It was not the only inconvenience to which an alias subjected him. There was only one address in the colonies through which he could obtain his letters, and that was the Post Office. Obviously, if he called himself John Smith he could not expect letters to be delivered to him in the name of Newman Chaytor. Now, he was eager for letters from the old country; before he left it he had written to his mother to the effect that he was driven out of it by a hard-hearted father, and that if she had any good news to communicate to him he would be glad to hear from her. At the same time he imposed upon her the obligation of not letting anyone know where he was. Therefore, when his London acquaintance addressed him by his proper name, saying, "Hallo, Chaytor, old boy!" he said to himself, "Oh hang it! I'll stick to Newman Chaytor, and chance it. If mother writes to me I shall have to proclaim myself Chaytor; an alias might get me into all sorts of trouble."

      Why did he write to his poor mother, for whom he had not the least affection, and what did he mean by expecting her to have any good news to communicate to him? The last time he saw her, was she not begging in the streets? Well, there was a clear reason; he seldom did anything without one; and be sure that the kernel of that reason was Self. His father, from the wreck of his fortune, had managed to preserve a number of shares in some companies which had failed, among them two mining companies which had come to grief. Now, it had happened before and might happen again, that companies which were valueless one day had leaped into favour the next, that shares which yesterday could have been purchased for a song, to-morrow would be worth thousands of pounds. Suppose that this happened to the companies, or to one of them, in which his pauper father held shares. He was his father's only child, and his mother would see that he was not disinherited. Chaytor was a man who never threw away a chance, and he would not throw away this, remote as it was. Hence his determination to adhere at all hazards to his proper name. The perilous excitements of the last two or three years had driven Basil Whittingham out of his mind, but having more leisure and less to occupy his thoughts in the colonies, he thought of him now and then, and wondered whether the old uncle had relented and had taken his nephew again into his favour. "Lucky young beggar," he thought. "I wish I stood in his shoes, and he in mine. I would soon work the old codger into a proper mood." His colonial career was neither profitable nor creditable, and he had degenerated into what he was when he and Basil came face to face in Gum Flat, an unadulterated gambler and loafer. The strange encounter awoke within him forces which had long lain dormant. He recognised a possible chance which might be worked to his benefit, and he fastened to it like a limpet. When he said to Basil that he was in luck be really meant it.

      A word as to his false beard and whiskers. In London he had had a behind-the-scenes acquaintance, and in a private theatrical performance in which he played a part he had worn these identical appendages as an adjunct to the character he represented. He had brought them out with him, thinking they might be serviceable one day. Before he came to Gum Flat he had got into a scrape on another township, and when he left it, had assumed the false hair as a kind of disguise. Making his appearance on Gum Flat thus disguised, he deemed it prudent to retain it, and when he came into association with Basil he thanked his stars that he had done so; otherwise he might have drawn upon himself from the man he called his double a closer attention than he desired.

      CHAPTER XII

      In the middle of the night Basil awoke. He had had a tiring day, but when he had slept off the first effects of the fatigue he had undergone, the exciting events of the last two days became again the dominant power. He dreamt of all that had occurred from the interview between himself and Anthony Bidaud, in which he had accepted the guardianship of Annette, to the moment of his arrival on Gum Flat. Of Newman Chaytor he dreamt not at all; this new acquaintance had produced no abiding impression upon him.

      He lay awake for some five minutes or so in that condition of quiescent wonder which often falls upon men when they are sleeping for the first time in a strange bed and in a place with which they are not familiar. Where was he? What was the position of the bed? Where was the door situated: at the foot, or the head, or the side of the bed? Was there a window in the apartment, and if so, where was it? Then came the mental question what had aroused him?

      It was so unusual for him to wake in the middle of the night that he dwelt upon this question. Something must have disturbed him. What?

      Was it fancy that just at the moment of his awakening he had heard a movement in the room, that he had felt a hand upon him, that he had heard a man's breathing? It must have been, all was so quiet and still. Suddenly he sat straight up on the stretcher. He remembered that he was in the township of Gum Flat, sleeping in a strange apartment, and that men with whom he had not been favourably impressed must be lying near him. This did not apply to Newman Chaytor, who had been kind and attentive, and whom he now thought of with gratitude. There was nothing to fear from him, but the other three had gazed at him furtively and with no friendly feelings. He had exchanged but a few words with these men, and those had been words of suspicion. When he entered the store, after attending to his horse, they had not addressed a word to him. It was Chaytor, and Chaytor alone, who had shown kindness and evinced a kindly feeling. And now he was certain that someone had been in the room while he slept, and had laid hands on him. For what purpose?

      He slid from the stretcher, and standing upright stretched out his hands in the darkness. Where was the door?

      Outside the canvas

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