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                            THE LOST HEIR

                            BY G. A. HENTY

AUTHOR OF "STURDY AND STRONG," "RUJUB, THE JUGGLER," "BY ENGLAND'S AID,"
ETC., ETC.


    THE MERSHON COMPANY
    RAHWAY, N. J.
    NEW YORK




CONTENTS.


       I. A BRAVE ACTION                      1

      II. IN THE SOUTH SEAS                  14

     III. A DEAF GIRL                        27

      IV. THE GYPSY                          40

       V. A GAMBLING DEN                     52

      VI. JOHN SIMCOE                        65

     VII. JOHN SIMCOE'S FRIEND               77

    VIII. GENERAL MATHIESON'S SEIZURE        90

      IX. A STRANGE ILLNESS                 102

       X. TWO HEAVY BLOWS                   112

      XI. A STARTLING WILL                  124

     XII. DR. LEEDS SPEAKS                  137

    XIII. NETTA VISITS STOWMARKET           150

     XIV. AN ADVERTISEMENT                  164

      XV. VERY BAD NEWS                     176

     XVI. A FRESH CLEW                      193

    XVII. NETTA ACTS INDEPENDENTLY          206

   XVIII. DOWN IN THE MARSHES               220

     XIX. A PARTIAL SUCCESS                 233

      XX. A DINNER PARTY                    247

     XXI. A BOX AT THE OPERA                262

    XXII. NEARING THE GOAL                  274

   XXIII. WALTER                            287

    XXIV. A NEW BARGE                       301

     XXV. A CRUSHING EXPOSURE               316

    XXVI. A LETTER FROM ABROAD              329




[Illustration: SIMCOE RAN IN WITH HIS KNIFE AND ATTACKED THE TIGER.
_--Page 4._]





THE LOST HEIR.




CHAPTER I.

A BRAVE ACTION.


A number of soldiers were standing in the road near the bungalow of
Brigadier-General Mathieson, the officer in command of the force in the
cantonments of Benares and the surrounding district.

"They are coming now, I think," one sergeant said to another. "It is a
bad business. They say the General is terribly hurt, and it was thought
better to bring him and the other fellow who was mixed up in it down in
doolies. I heard Captain Harvey say in the orderly-room that they have
arranged relays of bearers every five miles all the way down. He is a
good fellow is the General, and we should all miss him. He is not one of
the sort who has everything comfortable himself and don't care a rap how
the soldiers get on: he sees to the comfort of everyone and spends his
money freely, too. He don't seem to care what he lays out in making the
quarters of the married men comfortable, and in getting any amount of
ice for the hospital, and extra punkawallahs in the barrack rooms during
the hot season. He goes out and sees to everything himself. Why, on the
march I have known him, when all the doolies were full, give up his own
horse to a man who had fallen out. He has had bad luck too; lost his
wife years ago by cholera, and he has got no one to care for but his
girl. She was only a few months old when her mother died. Of course she
was sent off to England, and has been there ever since. He must be a
rich man, besides his pay and allowances; but it aint every rich man who
spends his money as he does. There won't be a dry eye in the cantonment
if he goes under."

"How was it the other man got hurt?"

"Well, I hear that the tiger sprang on to the General's elephant and
seized him by the leg. They both went off together, and the brute
shifted its hold to the shoulder, and carried him into the jungle; then
the other fellow slipped off his elephant and ran after the tiger. He
got badly mauled too; but he killed the brute and saved the General's
life."

"By Jove! that was a plucky thing. Who was he?"

"Why, he was the chap who was walking backwards and forwards with the
General when the band was playing yesterday evening. Several of the men
remarked how like he was to you, Sanderson. I noticed it, too. There
certainly was a strong likeness."

"Yes, some of the fellows were saying so," Sanderson replied. "He passed
close to me, and I saw that he was about my height and build, but of
course I did not notice the likeness; a man does not know his own face
much. Anyhow, he only sees his full face, and doesn't know how he looks
sideways. He is a civilian, isn't he?"

"Yes, I believe so; I know that the General is putting him up at his
quarters. He has been here about a week. I think he is some man from
England, traveling, I suppose, to see the world. I heard the Adjutant
speak of him as Mr. Simcoe when he was talking about the affair."

"Of course they will take him to the General's bungalow?"

"No; he is going to the next. Major Walker is away on leave, and the
doctor says that it is better that they should be in different
bungalows, because then if one gets delirious and noisy he won't disturb
the other. Dr. Hunter is going to take up his quarters there to look
after him, with his own servants and a couple of hospital orderlies."

By this time several officers were gathered at the entrance to the
General's bungalow, two mounted troopers having brought in the news a
few minutes before that the doolies were within a mile.

They came along now, each carried by four men, maintaining a swift but
smooth and steady pace, and abstaining from the monotonous chant usually
kept up. A doctor was riding by the side of the doolies, and two mounted
orderlies with baskets containing ice and surgical dressings rode fifty
paces in the rear. The curtains of the doolies had been removed to allow
of a free passage of air, and mosquito curtains hung round to prevent
insects annoying the sufferers.

There was a low murmur of sympathy from the soldiers as the doolies
passed them, and many a muttered "God bless you, sir, and bring you
through it all right." Then, as the injured men were carried into the
two bungalows, most of the soldiers strolled off, some, however,
remaining near in hopes of getting a favorable report from an orderly or
servant. A group of officers remained under the shade of a tree near
until the surgeon who had ridden in with the doolies came out.

"What is the report, McManus?" one of them asked, as he approached.

"There is no change since I sent off my report last night," he said.
"The General is very badly hurt; I certainly should not like to give an
opinion at present whether he will get over it or not. If he does it
will be a very narrow shave. He was insensible till we lifted him into
the doolie at eight o'clock yesterday evening, when the motion seemed to
rouse him a little, and he just opened his eyes; and each time we
changed bearers he has had a little ice between his lips, and a drink of
lime juice and water with a dash of brandy in it. He has known me each
time, and whispered a word or two, asking after the other."

"And how is he?"

"I have no doubt that he will do; that is, of course, if fever does not
set in badly. His wounds are not so severe as the General's, and he is a
much younger man, and, as I should say, with a good constitution. If
there is no complication he ought to be about again in a month's time.
He is perfectly sensible. Let him lie quiet for a day or two; after that
it would be as well if some of you who have met him at the General's
would drop in occasionally for a short chat with him; but of course we
must wait to see if there is going to be much fever."

"And did it happen as they say, doctor? The dispatch told us very little
beyond the fact that the General was thrown from his elephant, just as
the tiger sprang, and that it seized him and carried him into the
jungle; that Simcoe slipped off his pad and ran in and attacked the
tiger; that he saved the General's life and killed the animal, but is
sadly hurt himself."

"That is about it, except that he did not kill the tiger. Metcalf,
Colvin, and Smith all ran in, and firing together knocked it over stone
dead. It was an extraordinarily plucky action of Simcoe, for he had
emptied his rifle, and had nothing but it and a knife when he ran in."

"You don't say so! By Jove! that was an extraordinary act of pluck; one
would almost say of madness, if he hadn't succeeded in drawing the brute
off Mathieson, and so gaining time for the others to come up. It was a
miracle that he wasn't killed. Well, we shall not have quite so easy a
time of it for a bit. Of course Murdock, as senior officer, will take
command of the brigade, but he won't be half as considerate for our
comfort as Mathieson has been. He is rather a scoffer at what he calls
new-fangled ways, and he will be as likely to march the men out in the
heat of the day as at five in the morning."

The two sergeants who had been talking walked back together to their
quarters. Both of them were on the brigade staff. Sanderson was the
Paymaster's clerk, Nichol worked in the orderly-room. At the sergeants'
mess the conversation naturally turned on the tiger hunt and its
consequences.

"I have been in some tough fights," one of the older men said, "and I
don't know that I ever felt badly scared--one hasn't time to think of
that when one is at work--but to rush in against a wounded tiger with
nothing but an empty gun and a hunting-knife is not the sort of job
that I should like to tackle. It makes one's blood run cold to think of
it. I consider that everyone in the brigade ought to subscribe a day's
pay to get something to give that man, as a token of our admiration for
his pluck and of our gratitude for his having saved General Mathieson's
life."

There was a general expression of approval at the idea. Then Sanderson
said:

"I think it is a thing that ought to be done, but it is not for us to
begin it. If we hear of anything of that sort done by the officers, two
or three of us might go up and say that it was the general wish among
the non-coms. and men to take a share in it; but it would never do for
us to begin."

"That is right enough; the officers certainly would not like such a
thing to begin from below. We had better wait and see whether there is
any movement that way. I dare say that it will depend a great deal on
whether the General gets over it or not."

The opportunity did not come. At the end of five weeks Mr. Simcoe was
well enough to travel by easy stages down to the coast, acting upon the
advice that he should, for the present, give up all idea of making a
tour through India, and had better take a sea voyage to Australia or the
Cape, or, better still, take his passage home at once. Had the day and
hour of his leaving been known, there was not a white soldier in the
cantonments who would not have turned out to give him a hearty cheer,
but although going on well the doctor said that all excitement should be
avoided. It would be quite enough for him to have to say good-by to the
friends who had been in the habit of coming in to talk with him daily,
but anything like a public greeting by the men would be likely to upset
him. It was not, therefore, until Simcoe was some way down the river
that his departure became known to the troops.

Six weeks later there was a sensation in the cantonments. General
Mathieson had so far recovered that he was able to be carried up to the
hills, and the camp was still growling at the irritating orders and
regulations of his temporary successor in command, when the news spread
that Staff Pay-Sergeant Sanderson had deserted. He had obtained a
fortnight's furlough, saying that he wanted to pay a visit to some old
comrades at Allahabad; at the end of the fortnight he had not returned,
and the Staff Paymaster had gone strictly into his accounts and found
that there was a deficiency of over L300, which he himself would of
course be called upon to make good. He had, indeed, helped to bring
about the deficiency by placing entire confidence in the sergeant and by
neglecting to check his accounts regularly.

Letters were at once written to the heads of the police at Calcutta and
Bombay, and to all the principal places on the roads to those ports; but
it was felt that, with such a start as he had got, the chances were all
in his favor.

It was soon ascertained at Allahabad that he had not been there.
Inquiries at the various dak-bungalows satisfied the authorities that he
had not traveled by land. If he had gone down to Calcutta he had gone by
boat; but he might have started on the long land journey across to
Bombay, or have even made for Madras. No distinct clew, however, could
be obtained.

The Paymaster obtained leave and went down to Calcutta and inspected all
the lists of passengers and made inquiries as to them; but there were
then but few white men in the country, save those holding civil or
military positions and the merchants at the large ports, therefore there
was not much difficulty in ascertaining the identity of everyone who had
left Calcutta during the past month, unless, indeed, he had taken a
passage in some native craft to Rangoon or possibly Singapore.

On his arrival at Calcutta he heard of an event which caused deep and
general regret when known at Benares, and for a time threw even the
desertion of Sergeant Sanderson into the shade. The _Nepaul_, in which
John Simcoe had sailed, had been lost in a typhoon in the Bay of Bengal
when but six days out. There was no possible doubt as to his fate, for a
vessel half a mile distant had seen her founder, but could render no
assistance, being herself dismasted and unmanageable and the sea so
tremendous that no boat could have lived in it for a moment. As both
ships belonged to the East India Company, and were well known to each
other, the captain and officials of the _Ceylon_ had no doubt whatever
as to her identity, and, indeed, the remains of a boat bearing the
_Nepaul's_ name were picked up a few days later near the spot where she
had gone down.

"It's hard luck, that is what I call it," Sergeant Nichol said with
great emphasis when the matter was talked over in the sergeants' mess.
"Here is a man who faces a wounded tiger with nothing but a
hunting-knife, and recovers from his wounds; here is the General, whose
life he saved, going on first-rate, and yet he loses his life himself,
drowned at sea. I call that about as hard luck as anything I have heard
of."

"Hard luck indeed!" another said. "If he had died of his wounds it would
have been only what might have been expected; but to get over them and
then to get drowned almost as soon as he had started is, as you say,
Nichol, very hard luck. I am sure the General will be terribly cut up
about it. I heard Major Butler tell Captain Thompson that he had heard
from Dr. Hunter that when the General began to get round and heard that
Simcoe had gone, while he was lying there too ill to know anything about
it, he regularly broke down and cried like a child; and I am sure the
fact that he will never have the chance of thanking him now will hurt
him as bad as those tiger's claws."

"And so there is no news of Sanderson?"

"Not that I have heard. Maybe he has got clean away; but I should say
it's more likely that he is lying low in some sailors' haunt until the
matter blows over. Then, like enough, he will put on sea-togs and ship
under another name before the mast in some trader knocking about among
the islands, and by the time she comes back he could take a passage home
without questions being asked. He is a sharp fellow is Sanderson. I
never quite liked him myself, but I never thought he was a rogue. It
will teach Captain Smalley to be more careful in future. I heard that he
was going home on his long leave in the spring, but I suppose he will
not be able to do so now for a year or so; three hundred pounds is a big
sum to have to fork out."

The news of the loss of the _Nepaul_, with all hands, did indeed hit
General Mathieson very heavily, and for a time seriously delayed the
progress that he was making towards recovery.

"It's bad enough to think," he said, "that I shall never have an
opportunity of thanking that gallant fellow for my life; but it is even
worse to know that my rescue has brought about his death, for had it not
been for that he would have by this time been up at Delhi or in Oude
instead of lying at the bottom of the sea. I would give half my fortune
to grasp his hand again and tell him what I feel."

General Mathieson's ill luck stuck to him. He gained strength so slowly
that he was ordered home, and it was three years before he rejoined.
Four years later his daughter came out to him, and for a time his home
in Delhi, where he was now stationed, was