ROBERT W WOODRUFF LIBRARY ROUG H JUSTICE R OUGH JUSTICE BY M. E. BRADDON Author of "LADY AUDLEY'S SECRET,' "LONDON PRIDE," ETC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED LONDON SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, HAMILTON, KENT & CO. Ltd. Stationers' Hall Court 1899 CONTENTS CHARTER /. "HOW SHOULD I GREET THEE?'' ... i CHARTER IL A FELLOW-FEELING ...... 22 CHAPTER III. ALONE IN LONDON ...... 41 CONTENTS CHAPTER IV. PAGE SOME ONE WHO LOVED HIM . • 6i CHAPTER V. AT NUMBER THIRTEEN, DYNEVOR STREET . 86 CHAPTER VI. JOHN FAUNCE'S EXPERIENCES. NO. 29 . 103 CHAPTER VII. AT BOW STREET 138 CHARTER VIII. A DEATH-BLOW 156 CHARTER IX. MR, FAUNCE'S RECORD 172 CHARTER X. CHUMS 195 CHAPTER XL OTHER LIVES 209 vi CONTENTS CHAPTER XII. rAGE NINETEENTH-CENTURY CRUSADERS . 216. CHARTER XIII. MR. FAUNCE'S REPORT CONTINUED ... 233 CHARTER XIV. THE BOYHOOD OF OLIVER GRESWOLD ... 243 CHAPTER XV. MR. FAUNCE CONTINUES ..... 260 CHARTER XVI. WAITING ON FORTUNE ...... 279 CHARTER XVII. FOR THE HAPPINESS OF THE GREATEST NUMBER . 284 CHARTER XVIII. WHAT HE MEANT TO DO 302 CHARTER XIX. THE AMERICAN REMEMBERS . 317 CONTENTS CHARTER XX. r.4CE THE MAN BEHIND THE MASK .... 338 CHARTER XXI. A NEW DEVELOPMENT 352 CHAPTER XXII. THE ENEMY AND AVENGER -73 vui CHAPTER I. " HOW SHOULD I GREET THEE .? " " Is it really, really you ?" " Really, and very really. But what in the name of all that's wonderful can have brought my little Mary to South Africa ? " They had come suddenly face to face in one of the corridors of the Saxon; face to face amid all the hubbub and confusion of a great steamer homeward bound. They stood there in the narrow corridor, cabin doors on either side of them, spellbound in the glad surprise of meeting, and unconscious that they were an obstruction to the passage of other eager spirits tramping to and fro, looking for lost packages, all more or less frantic, disputing about cabins and berths, in an atmosphere vibrat­ ing with farew^ells. These two forgot everything in the wonder of meeting, after an interval that to young minds seemed a great gap in life. To age it would have been only a parenthesis. He was tall, dark with sun and weather, but originally of the fair Anglo-Saxon type, as witnessed I B Rough Justice. by large, bold blue eyes and crisp, light-brown hair; age about thirty, powerful frame, and easy movements—a man who had lived mostly in the open, and had looked the sun in the face, like the eagles. She whom he called little Mary was at least five feet seven, straight and slim as a reed, not by any means a beauty, but full of charm in her fresh youthfulness, with a smile of bewitching gaiety, and clear, dark-grey eyes; Irish eyes, this old friend of hers had called them, in the days when she was little Mary. "You had better ask me what takes me home to England," she said, when he had repeated his question—eager, impatient, with both her hands clasped in his. The people pushing past them took them for brother and sister, or husband and wife, and thought them in the act of parting, and so were more tolerant than they might have been of this obstruction. "We are awfully in the way here," said Mary Freeland. " Shall we go outside for a few minutes} You are not going on shore immediately, I hope?" "I am going on shore at Southampton—not before!" " What, are we to be fellow-passengers} How nice!" " Isn't it ?" Looking into her fresh, frank young face, it flashed upon him that it would be still nicer if they could be fellow-passengers over the wide seas 2 " How should I greet Thee ? " of life—a passing fancy only, which any man might have about any woman as young and gay as Mary Freeland, Arnold Wentworth and his newly found friend went out upon the upper deck, and stood watching the people thronging the narrow gangway, swarm­ ing down to the quay, perturbed by the importunate ringing of a warning bell, excited to fever-point in the final parting. Some might be only friends, some mere acquaintances; but all were moved to some touch of tragic feeling while the clustered faces looked down upon them from the bulwarks, amidst waving hands and waving handkerchiefs, above and below. At last the bell ceased its clamour, the gangway was raised, the passengers' friends and followers drifted away, and Arnold and Mary were able to look at each other and talk to each other calmly, standing side by side in a quiet corner, away from the traffic of ship's officers and passengers, the latter mostly on the war-path. Table Bay lay around them, and Cape Town gleamed whitely in the clear afternoon light, sheltered in the vast amphitheatre of rock, curtained and protected by those grey cliffs, and dark with the dense growth of pine forests that fill the valley. In the golden light of an African summer it seemed too fair a scene to leave willingly, to ex­ change summer for winter, the large picturesqueness of South Africa for the fogs and narrow streets of London, and the commonplace of English rusti­ city. Arnold looked at those jutting headlands Rough Justice. and Titanic peaks with something of regret in his gaze. " I am getting quite accustomed to you again," said Mary, presently; " but it was a tremendous shock to meet you." "Why?" The monosyllable startled her. She blushed rosy red, and answered confusedly— "Well, you see, you left Mervynhall so sud­ denly—and one didn't know—and people said things " "Said I had gone to the bad, no doubt." "So shameful of them—^just because you chose to leave a humdrum little town where you were not properly appreciated." "Where I was confoundedly miserable. But it's a true bill, Polly, my dear. There is always a scamp in the family, and I suppose it was my mission to fill the part. I have been to the dogs, Polly, but I contrived to come alive out of the kennel ; and—for the last two years—I've been doing well." " In the diamond fields ? " " No ; I turned up the diamond diggings. I have been among the gold miners at Heidelberg. I tried my luck at Kimberley for a bit, but it was no go. And I drifted back to Cape Town worse off than when I landed there, for the clothes I had come in were worn to rags, and then a chap I knew at the 'Varsity, who had also had canine experience, turned up with a little bit of capital, and traded his cash against my 4 " How should I greet Thee ? " knowledge of the mines and capacity for rough work, and the partnership answered better than such one-sided alliances generally do." "At Heidelberg?" cried Mary. "And I have been at Johannesburg, only thirty miles away. Did you never go to Johannesburg ? " " Not very often." "And did you go to the theatre when you were there ?" " Is there a theatre at Johannesburg ? " " Is there a theatre ? Why, there are two," cried Mary, with a mortified air. " How little you care for the drama ! " " Not much. I've been leading rather too rough a life to care for stage-plays." " I'm glad you and your friend prospered, at any rate." " Well, you see, we bought a block in the Nigel Reef—a very small block, the large ones are owned by companies—and we had only a small capital to work with ; but Fortune was kind, and we did well. My chum had fever more than once, and I helped him to pull through, which he called saving his life. And here I am, home­ ward bound, on a flying visit to see my dear old mother, who never thought me quite the villain I appeared before the paternal high court of justice. And now for your story, little Mary. What brought you to the Cape ; and, above all, to Johannesburg ?" " I came with a company." " A company ? " 5 Rough Justice. "A theatrical company. I'm an actress, you know." " Indeed, I know nothing of the kind. You were a kid when we last met; a solitary orphan kid, but as bright and as happy as if you had been the centre of a jovial family. I should have thought your highly respectable aunt would have made a desperate fight against your turning actress." " So she would ; but she was too unkind, and I couldn't stand her any longer. You would never believe it"—and Mary blushed redder than before —" b^ut aunt wanted me to marry Dr. Betts." " What! Why, the man must be sixty, and he has worn a wig ever since I can remember him !" "And it's a wig that one can't help seeing. There's hardly any make-believe about it." "And you plucked up a spirit and refused Betts ? Did he make his offer in person ?" "Not at first. He only hinted at marriage— said he wanted a nice little wife to cheer him of an evening, after a long day's round among his patients. He told me that a doctor appreciated a cheerful home more than any other professional man, and he asked me one day if I thought any nice young lady would accept him. I told him that he ought to look for some amiable person of his own age, if he wanted to be happy with his wife, since in all the novels I had ever read the young women who married old men always eloped in the second volume, and came back to die 6 " How should I greet Thee ? " miserably in the third.