Captain Bayley's Heir: A Tale of the Gold Fields of California. Henty George Alfred
a line to my uncle, will you post it for me at once?"
"Certainly," Fred replied; "but there is some one coming upstairs, so I must be off." He took the letter and was gone. It contained only a few words: —
"My dear Uncle, – If you believe me innocent of this hideous charge, which I swear to you I am not guilty of, send me one line by hand when you get this. As long as I know that you have faith in me I can face it out."
The afternoon passed slowly to the prisoner. His uncle would get the letter between three and four, and he might have an answer half an hour afterwards. Hour after hour passed, and, except the servant who brought up his tea, no one came near him. He reasoned to himself that his uncle might be out. At eight o'clock he heard a noise on the stairs; a number of feet approached his room, and then the door opened, and the whole of the boys in the boarding-house poured in.
"Norris, old fellow," Harris said, "we could stop away no longer, and in spite of orders we have come to see you. I beg to tell you in the name of the whole house, and I may say the whole School, that not a boy here believes you to be guilty. How the note came into your hands we don't know and we don't care, but we are certain you did not take it."
"No! no!" was shouted in a chorus.
"So keep up your spirits, old fellow," Harris said, "it will come right sooner or later."
For some time Frank was unable to speak.
"Thank you all," he said at last, in a choking voice, "it is a consolation to me indeed to know that my old friends still believe in me; but, till my innocence is proved, I shall never be able to look the world in the face again."
"Come, boys, this will not do," a voice at the door said; "Harris, you elder boys ought to set a better example to the younger ones. I told you that the Doctor's orders were positive that no one was to communicate with Norris."
"I can't help it, sir," Harris said; "we all felt we couldn't go to bed to-night without telling Norris that we knew he was innocent."
"Well, well, you must go downstairs now," – not unkindly; "you must not stay a minute longer." There was a chorus of "Good night, Norris!" "Good night, old fellow!" "Keep up your pluck!" and various other encouraging expressions, and the party filed out of the door; Mr. Richards waited to see the last out, and then left Frank to his thoughts.
Not till ten o'clock did Frank give up all hope of hearing from his uncle, then he felt he had been condemned.
"All my school-fellows acquit me, and my uncle, who should know me better than any of them, condemns me. I wonder what Alice said. I don't believe she would believe me guilty if all the world told her."
At this moment the door opened quietly again, and Fred Barkley entered. Frank leapt to his feet to see if he was the bearer of a letter.
Fred shook his head in answer to the unasked question. "I have slipped out of College to see you, Frank, and Richards has given me leave to come up. I have no news, I only came to see what you were going to do."
"You posted the letter to my uncle, Fred?" he asked.
"Yes, at once," he replied.
Frank was silent.
"What do you mean to do?" Fred went on.
"Do?" Frank asked, "what do you mean?"
"Why, I suppose you don't mean to stop here until to-morrow."
"I don't know," Frank replied, "I had not thought about it."
"I shouldn't, if I were in your place. It would be a fearful business; there hasn't been a boy expelled from Westminster for the last thirty years. I shouldn't stop for it if I were you."
"But what am I to do? where am I to go?" said Frank listlessly.
"Do?" said Fred, "why, go abroad to be sure. I should go out to California, or Australia, or somewhere, and in time this will be all forgotten. Perhaps it will turn out who sent that money. It is not as if facing it out would do any good, for you can prove nothing. Every one who knows you believes you innocent."
"Uncle Harry doesn't," Frank said bitterly, "or he would have sent an answer to my letter."
"Ah! well, you know what he is," Fred said, "how passionate and hasty he is; but after a time he will think as we all do, never fear. Look here, I thought that you would want some money, so have been round to Ginger's and have sold all my books. The old beggar would not give me more than twenty pounds for them, though I have paid him more than double that, besides what I have bought from others. However, here are the twenty pounds at your service, if you like to take them."
Frank remained irresolute for a moment; then the thought of the terrible scene in the schoolroom, and of the tones in which the Doctor would pronounce his expulsion, overcame him.
"I may as well go before as after, for I could not go home after that. Thank you, Fred, with all my heart; I will take your money and advice, and if I get a rich man I will pay you again. Are the fellows in bed?"
"Yes," Fred replied, "and Richards is in his study, so you can go down with me and slip out easy enough."
"Tell the others," Frank said, "that I went because I could not face the scene to-morrow, and that I hope some day to return and prove my innocence."
Without another word he opened his drawers, packed some clothes in a small portmanteau, put on his pea-jacket and the low cap he had worn in his unfortunate expedition to the New Cut; then he stole softly downstairs with Fred, and sallied out into the night air.
CHAPTER VI.
AT NEW ORLEANS
FRANK NORRIS took his way eastward after leaving Westminster. He slept at a small hotel in the city, and at daybreak walked on to the docks. He was careless where he went, so that it was out of England; but he was determined, if possible, to work his passage, so as to leave the sum of money in his pocket untouched until he got to his destination. He went on board a number of ships and asked the captains if they wanted hands, but on his acknowledgment that he had never been at sea, none of them would ship him for the outward voyage only. At last he paused before a fine ship, the Mississippi; a printed placard on the wharf beside her mentioned that the well-known and favourite clipper would sail for New Orleans on that day. He walked on board and went up to the captain, who was talking to the first mate, while the latter was superintending the getting of cargo on board.
"Do you want a hand, sir?"
"Well, that depends," the captain said; "I am still two or three hands short, but they have promised to send me them this morning. Are you a sailor?"
"No, sir; but I can row and sail an open boat, and am ready to make myself useful. I want to work my passage out."
"You look an active young fellow," the captain said, "but I don't care about taking a landsman only for the voyage out; I should have to ship another hand in your place at New Orleans, and probably have to pay more wages there than I could get one for here. Still, likely enough, they may send me down at the last moment two or three hands who know no more about it than you do, and may not be half so willing to learn as I should judge you to be. What do you say, Ephraim; shall we take him?"
"He looks a likely sort," the mate said.
"Very well then, it's agreed; you can take off your coat and fall to work at once; I will send down word to the office that I have shipped you." Frank stripped off his coat and waistcoat, and stowed them, with his portmanteau, out of the way, and then set to work with a will, the whiteness of his shirt, and his general appearance, exciting some jeering comments among the other men at work; but the activity and strength which he showed soon astonished and silenced them.
By one o'clock the last bale of cargo was stowed, and the hatches put on. The landsmen who had been employed went on shore, and Frank went forward to the forecastle, with the men, to dinner.
"Not the sort of grub you have been accustomed to, lad," one of the men said.
"I have eaten worse," Frank said carelessly, "and don't care if I never eat better. How long do you suppose we shall be before we get to New Orleans?"
"It all depends upon the