CHAPTER XXVI
In which our hero becomes excessively unwell,
and agrees to go through a course of medicine.
The hammocks were not piped down that night: some were taken indiscriminately for the wounded, but the rest remained in the nettings, for all hands were busy preparing jury masts and jury rigging, and Mr Pottyfar was so well employed that for twelve hours his hands were not in his pockets. It was indeed a dreadful night: the waves were mountains high, and chased the frigate in their fury, cresting, breaking, and roaring at her taffrail. But she flew before them with the wings of the wind; four men at the helm, assisted by others at the relieving tackles below. Jack, having been thanked on and washed off the quarter-deck, thought that he had done quite enough: he was as deep as he could swim before he had satisfied all the scruples of the Chaplin and, stowing himself away on one of the lockers of the midshipmen's berth, was soon fast asleep, notwithstanding that the frigate rolled gunwale under. Gascoigne had done much better; he had taken down a hammock, as he said, for a poor wounded man, hung it up and turned in himself. The consequence was, that the next morning the surgeon, who saw him lying in the hammock, had put him down in the report, but as Gascoigne had got up as well as ever, he laughed and scratched his name out of the list of wounded.
Before morning the ship had been pumped out dry, and all below made as secure and safe as circumstances would permit; but the gale still continued its violence, and there was anything but comfort onboard.
"I say, Martin, you ought to be thrown overboard!" said Gascoigne; "all this comes from your croaking—you're a Mother Cary's chicken."
"I wish I had been anyone's chicken," replied Martin; "but the devil a thing to nestle under have I had since I can well remember."
"What a bore to have no galley-fire lighted," said one of the youngsters; "no tea, and not allowed any grog."
"The gale will last three days," replied Martin, "and by that time we shall not be far from the Admiral; it won't blow home there."
"Well, then, we shall be ordered in directly, and I shall go on shore to-morrow," replied Easy.
"Yes, if you're ill," replied Gascoigne.
"Never fear, I shall be sick enough. We shall be there at least six weeks, and then we'll forget all this."
"Yes," replied Martin, "we may forget it, but will the poor fellows whose limbs are shrivelled forget it? and will poor Miles, the boatswain, who is blind forever?"
"Very true, Martin; we are thinking about ourselves, not thankful for our escape, and not feeling for others," replied Gascoigne.
"Give us your hand, Ned," said Jack Easy. "And, Martin, we ought to thank you for telling us the truth—we are a selfish set of fellows."
"Still we took our share with the others," replied one of the midshipman.
"That's more reason for us to be grateful and to pity them," replied Jack; "suppose you had lost your arm or your eyesight—we would have pitied you; so now pity others."
"Well, so I do, now I think of it."
"Think oftener, youngster," observed Martin, going on deck. What a change from the morning of the day before; but twenty-four hours had passed away, and the sea had been smooth; the frigate dashed through the blue water, proud in all her canvas, graceful as a swan. Since that there had been fire, tempest, lightning, disaster, danger, and death; her masts were tossed about on the snowy waves, hundreds of miles away from her, and she—a wreck—was rolling heavily, groaning and complaining in every timber, as she urged her impetuous race with the furious running sea.
How wrong are those on shore who assert that sailors are not religious!—how is it possible, supposing them to be possessed of feeling, to be otherwise? On shore, where you have nothing but the change of seasons, each in its own peculiar beauty—nothing but the blessings of the earth, its fruits, its flowers—nothing but the bounty, the comforts, the luxuries which have been invented, where you can rise in the morning in peace, and lay down your head at night in security—God may be neglected and forgotten for a long time; but at sea, when each gale is a warning, each disaster acts as a check, each escape as a homily upon the forbearance of Providence, that man must be indeed brutalised who does not feel that God is there. On shore we seldom view Him but in all His beauty and kindness; but at sea we are as often reminded how terrible He is in His wrath. Can it be supposed that the occurrences of the last twenty-four hours were lost upon the minds of any one man in that ship? No, no. In their courage and activity they might appear reckless, but in their hearts they acknowledged and bowed unto their God.
Before the day was over, a jury-foremast had been got up, and sail having been put upon it, the ship was steered with greater ease and safety—the main brace had been spliced to cheer up the exhausted crew, and the hammocks were piped down.
As Gascoigne had observed, some of the men were not very much pleased to find that they were minus their blankets, but Captain Wilson ordered their losses to be supplied by the purser and expended by the master; this quite altered the case, as they obtained new blankets in most cases for old ones, but still it was impossible to light the galley fire, and the men sat on their chests and nibbled biscuit. By twelve o'clock that night the gale broke, and more sail was necessarily put on the scudding vessels for the sea still ran fast and mountains high. At daylight the sun burst out and shone brightly on them, the sea went gradually down, the fire was lighted, and Mr Pottyfar, whose hands were again in his pockets, at twelve o'clock gave the welcome order to pipe to dinner. As soon as the men had eaten their dinner, the frigate was once more brought to the wind, her jury-mast forward improved upon, and more sail made upon it. The next morning there was nothing of the gale left except the dire effects which it had produced, the black and riven stump of the foremast still holding up a terrific warning of the power and fury of the elements.
Three days more, and the Aurora joined the Toulon fleet. When she was first seen it was imagined by those on board of the other ships that she had been in action, but they soon learnt that the conflict had been against more direful weapons than any yet invented by mortal hands. Captain Wilson waited upon the Admiral, and of course received immediate orders to repair to port and refit. In a few hours the Aurora had shaped her course for Malta, and by sunset the Toulon fleet were no longer in sight.
"By de holy poker, Massa Easy, but that terrible sort of gale the other day anyhow—I tink one time, we all go to Davy Joney's lacker."
"Very true, Mesty; I hope never to meet with such another."
"Den, Massa Easy, why you go to sea? when man ab no money, noting to eat, den he go to sea, but everybody say you ab plenty money why you come to sea?"
"I'm sure I don't know," replied Jack, thoughtfully; "I came to sea on account of equality and the rights of man."
"Eh, Massa Easy, you come to wrong place anyhow. Now I tink a good deal lately, and by all de power, I tink equality all stuff."
"All stuff, Mesty, why? You used to think otherwise."
"Yes, Massa Easy, but den I boil de kettle for all young gentleman. Now dat I ship's corporal and hab cane, I tink so no longer."
Jack made no reply, but he thought the more. The reader must have perceived that Jack's notions of equality were rapidly disappearing; he defended them more from habit, and perhaps a wilfulness which would not allow him to acknowledge himself wrong;—to which may be added his love of argument. Already he had accustomed himself to obedience of his superiors, and, notwithstanding his arguments, he would admit of no resistance from those below him; not that it was hardly ever attempted, for Jack was anything but a tyrant and was much beloved by all in the ship. Every day brought its lesson, and Captain Wilson was now satisfied that Jack had been almost cured of the effects of his father's ridiculous philosophy.
After a few minutes, Mesty tapped his cane on the funnel and recommenced. "Then why you stay at sea, Massa Easy?"
"I don't know, Mesty, I don't dislike it."
"But, Massa Easy, why you stay in midshipman berth, eat hard biscuit, salt pig, salt horse, when you can go shore and live like gentleman? Dat very foolish! Why not be your own master? By all power! suppose I had money, catch me board ship. Little sea very good, Massa Easy, open one's eyes; but tink of the lightning t'other night. Poor massa boatswain he shut um eyes for ebber!"
"Very true, Mesty."
"Me hope you fink of this, sar, and when you go on shore you take Mesty wid you. He sarve you well, Massa Easy, long as he live, by de holy St Patrick. And den, Massa Easy, you marry wife—hab pickaninny—lib like gentleman. You tink of this, Massa Easy."
The mention of the word marriage turned the thoughts of our hero to his Agnes and he made no reply. Mesty walked away leaving our hero in deep thought.
This conversation had more effect upon Jack than would have been imagined, and he very often found he was putting to himself the question of Mesty—"Why do you stay at sea?" He had not entered the service with any particular view, except to find equality, and he could not but acknowledge to himself that, as Mesty observed, he had come to the wrong place. He had never even thought of staying to serve his time, nor had he looked forward to promotion, and one day commanding a ship. He had only cared for the present, without indulging in a future anticipation of any reward, except in a union with Agnes. Mesty's observations occasioned Jack to reflect upon the future for the first time in his life; and he was always perplexed when he put the question of Mesty, and tried to answer to himself as to what were his intentions in remaining in the service.
Nevertheless Jack did his duty very much to the satisfaction of Mr Pottyfar; and after a tedious passage, from baffling and light winds, the Aurora arrived at Malta. Our hero had had some conversation with his friend Gascoigne, in which he canvassed his future plans; all of which, however, ended in one settled point, which was that he was to marry Agnes. As for the rest, Gascoigne was of opinion that Jack ought to follow up the service and become a captain. But there was plenty of time to think about that, as he observed; now all they had to consider was how to get on shore, for the refitting of the ship was an excuse for detaining them on board, which they knew Mr Pottyfar would avail himself of.
Jack dined in the gun-room on the day of their arrival, and he resolved that he would ask that very evening. Captain Wilson was already on shore at the Governor's. Now, there had been a little difference of opinion between Mr Pottyfar and Mr Hawkins, the chaplain, on a point of seamanship, and most of the officers sided with the chaplain, who, as we have before observed, was a first-rate seaman. It had ended in high words, for Mr Hawkins had forgotten himself so far as to tell the first lieutenant that he had a great deal to learn, not having even got over the midshipman's trick of keeping his hands in his pockets; and Mr Pottyfar had replied that it was very well for him as chaplain to insult others, knowing that his cassock protected him.
This was a bitter reply to Mr Hawkins, who at the very time that the insinuation made his blood boil, was also reminded that his profession forbade a retort. He rushed into his cabin, poor fellow, having no other method left, vented his indignation in tears, and then consoled himself by degrees with prayer. In the meantime Mr Pottyfar had gone on deck, wroth with Hawkins and with his messmates, as well as displeased with himself. He was, indeed, in a humour to be pleased with nobody, and in a most unfortunate humour to be asked leave by a midshipman. Nevertheless, Jack politely took off his hat, and requested leave to go on shore and see his friend the Governor. Upon which Mr Pottyfar turned round to him, with his feet spread wide open, and, thrusting his hands to the very bottom of his pockets, as if in determination, said:
"Mr Easy, you know the state of the ship. We have everything to do—new masts, new rigging, everything almost to refit—and yet you ask to go on shore! Now, sir, you may take this answer for yourself, and all the other midshipmen in the ship, that not one soul of you puts his foot on shore until we are again all a-taunto."
"Allow me to observe, sir," said our hero, "that it is very true that all our services may be required when the duty commences, but this being Saturday night, and to-morrow Sunday, the frigate will not be even moved till Monday morning; and as the work cannot begin before that, I trust you will permit leave until that time."
"My opinion is different, sir," replied the first lieutenant.
"Perhaps, sir, you will allow me to argue the point," replied Jack.
"No, sir, I never allow argument; walk over to the other side of the deck, if you please."
"O certainly, sir," said Jack, "if you wish it." Jack's first idea was to go on shore without leave, but from this he was persuaded by Gascoigne, who told him that it would displease Captain Wilson, and that old Tom, the Governor, would not receive him. Jack agreed to this, and then, after a flourish about the rights of man, tyranny, oppression, and so forth, he walked forward to the forecastle, where he found his friend Mesty, who had heard all that had passed, and who insidiously said to him in a low tone—
"Why you stay at sea, Massa Easy?"
"Why, indeed," thought Jack, boiling with indignation; "to be cooped up here at the will of another? I am a fool—Mesty is right—I'll ask for my discharge to-morrow." Jack went down below, and told Gascoigne what he had determined to do.
"You'll do no such thing, Jack," replied Gascoigne; "depend upon it, you'll have plenty of leave in a day or two. Pottyfar was in a pet with the chaplain, who was too much for him. Captain Wilson will be on board by nine o'clock."
Nevertheless, Jack walked his first watch in the magnificents, as all Biddies do when they cannot go on shore, and turned in at twelve o'clock with the resolution of sticking to his purpose, and quitting his majesty's service; in fact, of presenting his Majesty with his between two and three years' time, served as midshipman, all free, gratis, and for nothing, except his provisions and his pay, which some captains are bold enough to assert that they not only are not worth, but not even the salt that accompanies it; forgetting that they were once midshipmen themselves, and at the period were, of course, of about the same value.
The next morning Captain Wilson came off; the ship's company were mustered, the service read by Mr Hawkins, and Jack, as soon as all the official duties were over, was about to go up to the captain, when the captain said to him,—"Mr Easy, the Governor desired me to bring you on shore to dine with him, and he has a bed at your service."
Jack touched his hat and ran down below, to make his few preparations. By the time that Mesty, who had taken charge of his chest, etc, had put his necessaries in the boat, Jack had almost made up his mind that his Majesty should not be deprived yet awhile of so valuable an officer. Jack returned on deck, and found that the captain was not yet ready; he went up to Mr Pottyfar, and told him that the captain had ordered him to go on shore with him; and Mr Pottyfar, who had quite got over his spleen, said,—
"Very well, Mr Easy—I wish you a great deal of pleasure."
"This is very different from yesterday," thought Jack; "suppose I try the medicine?"
"I am not very well, Mr Pottyfar, and those pills of the doctor's don't agree with me—I always am ill if I am long without air and exercise."
"Very true," said the first lieutenant, "people require air and exercise. I've no opinion of the doctor's remedies; the only thing that is worth a farthing is the universal medicine."
"I should so long to try it, sir," replied Jack; "I read the book one day, and it said that if you took it daily for a fortnight or three weeks, and with plenty of air and exercise, it would do wonders."
"And it's very true," replied Mr Pottyfar; "and if you'd like to try it you shall—I have plenty—shall I give you a dose now?"
"If you please, sir," replied Jack; "and tell me how often I am to take it, for my head aches all day."
Mr Pottyfar took Jack down, and putting into his hand three or four bottles of the preparation, told him that he was to take thirty drops at night, when he went to bed, not to drink more than two glasses of wine, and to avoid the heat of the sun.
"But, sir," replied Jack, who had put the bottles in his pocket, "I am afraid that I cannot take it long; for as the ship is ready for fitting, I shall be exposed to the sun all day."
"Yes, if you are wanted, Mr Easy; but we have plenty here without you; and when you are unwell you cannot be expected to work. Take care of your health; and I trust, indeed I am sure, that you will find this medicine wonderfully efficacious."
"I will begin to-night, sir, if you please," replied Jack, "and I am very much obliged to you. I sleep at the Governor's—shall I come on board to-morrow morning?"
"No, no; take care of yourself, and get well; I shall be glad to hear that you get better. Send me word how it acts."
"I will, sir, send you word by the boat every day," replied Jack, delighted; "I am very much obliged to you, sir. Gascoigne and I were thinking of asking you, but did not like to do so: he, poor fellow, suffers from headaches almost as bad as I do, and the doctor's pills are of no use to him."
"He shall have some too, Mr Easy; I thought he looked pale. I'll see to it this afternoon. Recollect, moderate exercise, Mr Easy, and avoid the sun at midday."
"Yes, sir," replied Jack, "I'll not forget"; and off went Jack, delighted. He ordered Mesty to put up his whole portmanteau instead of the small bundle he put into the boat, and telling Gascoigne what a spoke he had put into his wheel, was soon in the boat with the captain, and went on shore, where he was cordially greeted by the Governor.
CHAPTER XXVII
In which Captain Wilson is repaid with interest
for Jack's borrowing his name, proving that a
good name is as good as a legacy.
"Well, Jack, my boy, have you any long story ready for me?" inquired the Governor.
"Yes, sir," replied Jack, "I have one or two very good ones."
"Very well, we'll hear them after dinner," replied old Tom. "In the meantime find out your room and take possession."
"That must not be for very long, Governor," observed Captain Wilson. "Mr Easy must learn his duty, and there is a good opportunity now."
"If you please, sir," replied Jack, "I'm on the sick list."
"Sick list," said Captain Wilson; "you were not in the report I was given this morning."
"No, I'm on Mr Pottyfar's list, and I'm going through a course of the universal medicine."
"What's all this, Jack, what's all this? There's some story here. Don't be afraid of the captain—you've me to back you," said the Governor.
Jack was not at all afraid of the captain, so he told him how the first lieutenant had refused him leave the evening before, and how he had now given him permission to remain, and try the universal medicine, at which the Governor laughed heartily, nor could Captain Wilson refrain from joining.
"But, Mr Easy," replied the captain, after a pause, "if Mr Pottyfar will allow you to stay on shore, I cannot—you have your duty to learn. You must be aware that now is your time, and you must not lose opportunities that do not occur every day. You must acknowledge the truth of what I say."
"Yes, sir," replied Jack, "I admit it all, provided I do intend to follow the profession"; and so saying our hero bowed, and left the veranda where they had been talking.
This hint of Jack's, thrown out by him, more with the intention of preventing his being sent on board than with any definite idea, was not lost upon either the captain or the Governor.
"Does he jib, then?" observed the Governor. "On the contrary, I never knew him more attentive, and so entirely getting rid of his former notions. He has behaved most nobly in the gale, and there has not been one complaint against him—I never was more astonished—he must have meant something."
"I'll tell you what he means, Wilson—that he does not like to be sent on board, nothing more. He's not to be cooped up—you may lead him, but not drive him."
"Yes but the service will not admit of it. I never could allow it—he must do his duty like the rest, and conform to the rules."
"Exactly, so he must; but look ye, Wilson, you must not lose him: it's all easily settled—appoint him your orderly midshipman to and from the ship, that will be employment, and he can always remain here at night I will tell him that I have asked, as a favour, what I now do, and leave me to find out what he is thinking about."
"It may be done that way certainly", replied Captain Wilson, musing "and you are more likely, to get his intentions from him than I am. I am afraid he has too great a command of money ever to be fond of the ship; it is the ruin of a junior officer to be so lavishly supplied."
"He's a long way from ruin yet, Wilson—he's a very fine fellow, even by your own acknowledgment. You humoured him out of gratitude to his father, when he first came into the service; humour him a little now to keep him in it. Besides, if your first lieutenant is such a fool with his universal medicine, can you wonder at a midshipman taking advantage of it?"
"No, but I ought not to allow him to do so with my eyes open."
"He has made it known to you upon honour, and you ought not to take advantage of his confidence: but still what I proposed would, I think, be the best, for then he will be at his duty in a way that will suit all parties. You, because you employ him on service—the first lieutenant, because Jack can take his medicine—and Jack, because he can dine with me every day."
"Well, I suppose it must be so," replied Captain Wilson, laughing; "but still, I trust, you will discover what is working in his mind to induce him to give me that answer, Governor."
"Never fear, Jack shall confess, and lay his soul as bare as that of a Catholic bigot before his padre."
The party sat down to dinner, and what with the Governor's aide-de-camp and those invited, it was pretty numerous. After the cloth had been removed, the Governor called upon Jack for his stories, whereupon, much to the surprise of Captain Wilson, who had never heard one word of it, for the Admiral had not mentioned anything about it to him during the short time the Aurora was with the Toulon fleet, our hero gave the Governor and the company the narrative of all that happened in the Mary Ann transport—the loves of Captain Hogg and Miss Hicks-the adventures of Gascoigne—and his plan, by which he baulked them all. The Governor was delighted, and Captain Wilson not a little astonished.
"You prevented a very foolish thing, Mr Easy, and behaved very well," observed the captain, laughing again at the idea; "but you never told me of all this."
"No, sir," replied Jack, "I have always reserved my stories for the Governor's table, where I am sure to meet you, and then telling once does for all."
Jack received his appointment as orderly midshipman, and everything went on well; for, of his own accord, he stayed on board the major part of the day to learn his duty, which very much pleased the captain and Mr Pottyfar. In this Jack showed a great deal of good sense, and Captain Wilson did not repent of the indulgence he had shown him. Jack's health improved daily, much to Mr Pottyfar's satisfaction, who imagined that he took the universal medicine night and morning. Gascoigne also was a patient under the first lieutenant's hands, and often on shore with our hero, who thought no more of quitting the service.
For seven weeks they had now remained in harbour, for even the masts had to be made, when, one day, Captain Wilson opened a letter he received at breakfast-time, and having read it, laid it down with the greatest surprise depicted in his countenance. "Good heavens what can this mean?" said he.
"What's the matter, Wilson?" said the Governor. "Just hear its contents, Sir Thomas." Captain Wilson then read in Spanish as follows:—
"HONOURABLE SIR,
"It is my duty to advise you that the Honourable Lady Senora Alforgas de Cuzman, now deceased, has, in her testament bequeathed to you the sum of one thousand doubloons in gold as a testimony of your kind services on the night of the 12th of August. If you will authorise any merchant here to receive the money, it shall be paid forthwith, or remitted in any way you please to appoint. May you live a thousand years!
"Your most obedient servant,
"ALFONZO XEREZ."
Jack heard the letter read, rose quietly, whistled low, as if not attending to it, and then slipped out of the room, unperceived by the Governor or Captain Wilson.
The fact was, that although Jack had longed to tell the Governor about his adventures after the masquerade, he did not like yet awhile, until he was sure that there were no consequences—because he had given the captain's name instead of his own. As soon as he heard the letter read, he at once perceived that it had been the old lady, and not the priests, who had made the inquiry, and that by giving Captain Wilson's name, he had obtained for him this fine legacy. Jack was delighted, but still puzzled, so he walked out of the room to reflect a little.
"What can it mean?" said Captain Wilson. "I never rendered any services to anyone on the 12th of August or after it. It is some mistake—12th of August—that was the day of the grand masquerade."
"A lucky one for you, at all events—for you know, mistake or not, no one else can touch the legacy. It can only be paid to you."
"I never heard of anything taking place at the masquerade—I was there, but I left early, for I was not very well. Mr Easy," said Captain Wilson, turning round; but Jack was gone.
"Was he at the masquerade?" asked the Governor. "Yes, I know he was, for the first lieutenant told me that he requested not to come on board till the next day."
"Depend upon it," replied the Governor, striking his fist upon the table, "that Jack's at the bottom of it."
"I should not be surprised at his being at the bottom of anything," replied Captain Wilson, laughing.
"Leave it to me, Wilson; I'll find it out."
After a little more conversation, Captain Wilson went on board, leaving Jack on purpose that the Governor might pump him. But this Sir Thomas had no occasion to do, for Jack had made up his mind to make the Governor his confidant, and he immediately told him the whole story. The Governor held his sides at our hero's description, especially at his ruse of giving the captain's name instead of his own.
"You'll kill me, Jack, before you've done with me," said old Tom, at last; "but now, what is to be done?"
Our hero now became grave; he pointed out to the Governor that he himself had plenty of money, and would come into a large fortune, and that Captain Wilson was poor, with a large family. All Jack wanted the Governor to manage was, that Captain Wilson might consent to accept the legacy.
"Right, boy, right! you're my own boy," replied the Governor, "but we must think of this, for Wilson is the very soul of honour, and there might be some difficulty about it. You have told nobody?"
"Not a soul but you, Sir Thomas."
"It will never do to tell him all this, Jack, for he would insist that the legacy belonged to you."
"I have it, sir," replied Jack. "When I was going into the masquerade I offered to hand this very old lady, who was covered with diamonds out of her carriage, and she was so frightened at my dress of the devil that she would have fallen down had it not been for Captain Wilson who supported her, and she was very thankful to him."
"You are right, Jack," replied the Governor, after a short pause: "that will, I think, do. I must tell him the story of the friars, because I swore you had something to do with it—but I'll tell him no more. Leave it all to me."
Captain Wilson returned in the afternoon, and found the Governor on the veranda.
"I have had some talk with young Easy," said the Governor, "and he has told me a strange story about that night, which he was afraid to tell to everybody."
The Governor then narrated the history of the friars and the will.
"Well, but," observed Captain Wilson, "the history of that will afford no clue to the legacy."
"No it does not; but still, as I said, Jack had a hand in this. He frightened the old lady as a devil, and you caught her in your arms and saved her from falling, so he had a hand in it, you see."
"I do now remember that I did save a very dowager-like old personage from falling at the sight of a devil, who, of course, must have been our friend Easy."
"Well, and that accounts for the whole of it."
"A thousand doubloons for picking up an old lady!"
"Yes, why not?—have you not heard of a man having a fortune left him for merely opening the pew door of a church, to an old gentleman?"
"Yes, but it appears so strange."
"There's nothing strange in this world, Wilson, nothing at all—we may slave for years and get no reward, and do a trifle out of politeness and become independent. In my opinion, this mystery is unravelled. The old lady, for I knew the family, must have died immensely rich: she knew you in your full uniform, and she asked your name; a heavy fall would have been to one so fat a most serious affair; you saved her, and she has rewarded you handsomely."
"Well," replied Captain Wilson, "as I can give no other explanation, I suppose yours is the correct one; but it's hardly fair to take a thousand doubloons from her relations merely for an act of civility."
"You really are quite ridiculous; the old lady owned half Murcia, to my knowledge. It is no more to them than anyone leaving you a suit of mourning in an English legacy. I wish you joy; it will help you with a large family, and in justice to them you are bound to take it. Everybody does as he pleases with his own money,—depend upon it, you saved her from breaking her leg short off at the hip joint."
"Upon that supposition I presume I must accept of the legacy," replied Captain Wilson, laughing.
"Of course; send for it at once. The rate of exchange is now high. I will give you government bills, which will make it nearly four thousand pounds."
"Four thousand pounds for preventing an old woman from falling," replied Captain Wilson.
"Devilish well paid, Wilson, and I congratulate you."
"For how much am I indebted to the father of young Easy!" observed Captain Wilson, after a silence of some minutes; "if he had not assisted me when I was appointed to a ship, I should not have gained my promotion—nor three thousand pounds I have made in prize-money—the command of a fine frigate—and now four thousand pounds in a windfall."
The Governor thought that he was more indebted to Jack than to his father for some of these advantages, but he was careful not to point them out.
"It's very true," observed the Governor, "that Mr Easy was of service to you when you were appointed; but allow me to observe, that for your ship, your prize-money, and for your windfall, you have been wholly indebted to your own gallantry, in both senses of the word; still Mr Easy is a fine generous fellow, and so is his son, I can tell you. By-the-bye, I had a long conversation with him the other day."
"About himself?"
"Yes, all about himself. He appears to me to have come into the service without any particular motive, and will be just as likely to leave it in the same way. He appears to be very much in love with that Sicilian nobleman's daughter. I find that he has written to her, and to her brother, since he has been here."
"That he came into the service in search of what he never will find in this world, I know very well; and I presume that he has found that out—and that he will follow up the service is also very doubtful; but I do not wish that he should leave it yet, it is doing him great good," replied Captain Wilson.
"I agree with you there—I have great influence with him, and he shall stay yet awhile. He is heir to a very large fortune, is he not?"
"A clear eight thousand pounds a year, if not more."
"If his father dies he must, of course, leave; a midshipman with eight thousand pounds a year would indeed be an anomaly."
"That the service could not permit. It would be as injurious to himself as it would to others about him. At present, he has almost, indeed I may say quite, an unlimited command of money."
"That's bad, very bad. I wonder he behaves so well as he does."
"And so do I: but he really is a very superior lad, with all his peculiarities, and a general favourite with those whose opinions and friendship are worth having."
"Well, don't curb him too tight—for really he does not require it. He goes very well in a snaffle."
CHAPTER XXVIII
"Philosophy made Easy," upon agrarian principles,
the subject of some uneasiness to our hero—The
first appearance, but not the last, of an important personage.
The conversation was here interrupted by a mail from England which they had been expecting. Captain Wilson retired with his letters; the Governor remained equally occupied; and our hero received the first letter ever written to him by his father. It ran as follows:—
"MY DEAR SON,
"I have many times taken up my pen with the intention of letting you know how things went on in this country. But as I can perceive around but one dark horizon of evil, I have as often laid it down again without venturing to make you unhappy with such bad intelligence.
"The account of your death, and also of your unexpectedly being yet spared to us, were duly received, and I trust, I mourned and rejoiced on each occasion with all the moderation characteristic of a philosopher. In the first instance I consoled myself with the reflection that the world you had left was in a state of slavery, and pressed down by the iron arm of despotism, and that to die was gain, not only in all the parson tells us, but also in our liberty; and, at the second intelligence, I moderated my joy for nearly about the same reasons, resolving, notwithstanding what Dr Middleton may say, to die as I have lived, a true philosopher.
"The more I reflect the more am I convinced that there is nothing required to make this world happy but equality, and the rights of man being duly observed—in short, that everything and everybody should be reduced to one level. Do we not observe that it is the law of nature—do not brooks run into rivers—rivers into seas—mountains crumble down upon the plains?—are not the seasons contented to equalise the parts of the earth? Why does the sun run round the ecliptic, instead of the equator, but to give an equal share of his heat to both sides of the world? Are we not all equally born in misery? does not death level us all aequo pede, as the poet hath? are we not all equally hungry, thirsty, and sleepy, and thus levelled by our natural wants? And such being the case, ought we not to have our equal share of good things in this world, to which we have undoubted equal right? Can any argument be more solid or more level than this, whatever nonsense Dr Middleton may talk?
"Yes, my son, if it were not that I still hope to see the sun of justice arise, and disperse the manifold dark clouds which obscure the land—if I did not still hope, in my time, to see an equal distribution of property—an Agrarian law passed by the House of Commons, in which all should benefit alike—I would not care how soon I left this vale of tears, created by tyranny and injustice. At present, the same system is carried on; the nation is taxed for the benefit of the few, and it groans under oppression and despotism; but I still do think that there is, if I may fortunately express myself, a bright star in the west; and signs of the times which comfort me. Already we have had a good deal of incendiarism about the country, and some of the highest aristocracy have pledged themselves to raise the people above themselves, and have advised sedition and conspiracy; have shown to the debased and unenlightened multitude that their force is physically irresistible, and recommended them to make use of it, promising that if they hold in power, they will only use that power to the abolition of our farce of a constitution, of a church, and of a king; and that if the nation is to be governed at all, it shall only be governed by the many. This is cheering. Hail, patriot lords! all hail! I am in hopes yet that the great work will be achieved, in spite of the laughs and sneers and shakes of the head, which my arguments still meet with from that obstinate fellow, Dr Middleton.
"Your mother is in a quiet way; she has given over reading and working, and even her knitting, as useless; and she now sits all day long at the chimney corner twiddling her thumbs, and waiting, as she says, for the millennium. Poor thing! she is very foolish with her ideas upon this matter, but as usual I let her have her own way in everything, copying the philosopher of old, who was tied to his Xantippe.
"I trust, my dear son, that your principles have strengthened with your years and fortified with your growth, and that, if necessary, you will sacrifice all to obtain what in my opinion will prove to be the real millennium. Make all the converts you can, and believe me to be,
"Your affectionate father, and true guide,
"Nicodemus Easy."
Jack, who was alone, shook his head as he read this letter, and then laid it down with a pish! He did it involuntarily, and was surprised at himself when he found that he had so done. "I should like to argue the point," thought Jack, in spite of himself; and then he threw the letter on the table, and went into Gascoigne's room, displeased with his father and with himself. He asked Ned whether he had received any letters from England, and, it being near dinner-time, went back to dress. On his coming down into the receiving room with Gascoigne, the Governor said to them,—
"As you both speak Italian, you must take charge of a Sicilian officer, who has come here with letters of introduction to me, and who dines here to-day."
Before dinner they were introduced to the party in question, a slight-made, well-looking young man, but still there was an expression in his countenance which was not agreeable. In compliance with the wishes of the Governor, Don Mathias, for so he was called, was placed between our two midshipmen, who immediately entered into conversation with him, being themselves anxious to make enquiries about their friends at Palermo. In the course of conversation, Jack enquired of him whether he was acquainted with Don Rebiera, to which the Sicilian answered in the affirmative, and they talked about the different members of the family.
Don Mathias, towards the close of the dinner, enquired of Jack by what means he had become acquainted with Don Rebiera, and Jack, in reply, narrated how he and his friend Gascoigne had saved him from being murdered by two villains; after this reply the young officer appeared to be less inclined for conversation, but before the party broke up, requested to have the acquaintance of our two midshipmen. As soon as he was gone, Gascoigne observed in a reflective way, "I have seen that face before, but where I cannot exactly say; but you know, Jack, what a memory of people I have, and I have seen him before, I am sure."
"I can't recollect that ever I have," replied our hero, "but I never knew anyone who could recollect in that way as you do."
The conversation was then dropped between them, and Jack was for some time listening to the Governor and Captain Wilson, for the whole party were gone away, when Gascoigne, who had been in deep thought since he had made the observation to Jack, sprang up.
"I have him at last!" cried he.
"Have who?" demanded Captain Wilson.
"That Sicilian officer—I could have sworn that I had seen him before."
"That Don Mathias?"
"No, Sir Thomas! He is not Don Mathias! He is the very Don Silvio who was murdering Don Rebiera, when we came to his assistance and saved him."
"I do believe you are right, Gascoigne."
"I'm positive of it," replied Gascoigne; "I never made a mistake in my life."
"Bring me those letters, Easy," said the Governor, "and let us see what they say of him. Here it is—Don Mathias de Alayeres. You may be mistaken, Gascoigne; it is a heavy charge you are making against this young man."
"Well, Sir Thomas, if that is not Don Silvio, I'd forfeit my commission if I had it here in my hand. Besides, I observed the change in his countenance when we told him it was Easy and I who had come to Don Rebiera's assistance; and did you observe after that, Easy, that he hardly said a word."
"Very true," replied Jack. "Well, well, we must see to this," observed the Governor; "if so, this letter of introduction must be a forgery."
The party then retired to bed, and the next morning, while Easy was in Gascoigne's room talking over their suspicions, letters from Palermo were brought up to him. They were in answer to those written by Jack on his arrival at Malta: a few lines from Don Rebiera, a small note from Agnes, and a voluminous detail from his friend Don Philip, who informed him of the good health of all parties, and of their good-will towards him; of Agnes being as partial as ever; of his having spoken plainly, as he had promised Jack, to his father and mother relative to the mutual attachment; of their consent being given, and then withheld, because Father Thomaso, their confessor, would not listen to the union of Agnes with a heretic; but nevertheless telling Jack that this would be got over through the medium of his brother and himself, who were determined that their sister and he should not be made unhappy about such a trifle. But the latter part of the letter contained intelligence equally important, which was, that Don Silvio had again attempted the life of their father, and would have succeeded, had not Father Thomaso, who happened to be there, thrown himself between them. That Don Silvio in his rage had actually stabbed the confessor, although the wound was not dangerous. That in consequence of this, all further lenity was denied to him, and the authorities were in search of him to award him the punishment due to murder and sacrilege. That up to the present they could not find him, and it was supposed that he had made his escape to Malta in one of the speronares.
Such were the contents of the letter, which were immediately communicated to the Governor and Captain Wilson, upon their meeting at breakfast.
"Very well, we must see to this," observed the Governor, who then made his enquiries as to the other intelligence contained in the letters.
Jack and Gascoigne were uneasy till the breakfast was over, when they made their escape: a few moments afterwards Captain Wilson rose to go on board, and sent for them, but they were not to be found.
"I understand it all, Wilson," said the Governor; "leave them to me; go on board and make yourself quite easy."
In the meantime our two midshipmen had taken their hats and walked away to the parapet of the battery, where they would not be interrupted.
"Now, Gascoigne," observed Jack, "you guess what I'm about—I must shoot that rascal this very morning, and that's why I came out with you."
"But, Easy, the only difference is this, that I must shoot him, and not you; he is my property, for I found him out."
"We'll argue that point," replied Jack: "he has attempted the life of my is-to-be, please God, father-in-law, and therefore I have the best claim to him."
"I beg your pardon, Jack, he is mine, for I discovered him. Now let me put a case: suppose one man walking several yards before another, picks up a purse, what claim has the other to it? I found him, and not you."
"That's all very well, Gascoigne; but suppose the purse you picked up to be mine, then I have a right to it, although you found it; he is my bird by right, and not yours."
"But I have another observation to make, which is very important; he is a blood relation of Agnes, and if his blood is on your hands, however much he may deserve it, depend upon it, it will be raised as an obstacle to your union: think of that."
Jack paused in thought. "And let me induce you by another remark—you will confer on me a most particular favour."
"It will be the greatest I ever could," replied Jack, "and you ought to be eternally indebted to me."
"I trust to make him eternally indebted to me," replied Gascoigne. Sailors, if going into action, always begin to reckon what their share of the prize-money may be, before a shot is fired—our two midshipmen appear in this instance to be doing the same.
The point having been conceded to Gascoigne, Jack went to the inn where Don Silvio had mentioned that he had taken up his quarters, and sending up his card, followed the waiter upstairs. The waiter opened the door, and presented the card.
"Very well," replied Don Silvio, "you can go down and show him up."
Jack hearing these words, did not wait, but walked in, where he found Don Silvio very busy removing a hone upon which he had been whetting a sharp double-edged stiletto. The Sicilian walked up to him, offering his hand with apparent cordiality; but Jack, with a look of defiance, said, "Don Silvio, we know you; my object now is to demand, on the part of my friend, the satisfaction which you do not deserve, but which our indignation at your second attempt upon Don Rebiera induces us to offer; for if you escape from him you will have to do with me. On the whole, Don Silvio, you may think yourself fortunate, for it is better to die by the hands of a gentleman than by the gibbet."
Don Silvio turned deadly pale—his hand sought his stiletto in his bosom, but it was remaining on the table; at last he replied, "Be it so—I will meet you when and where you please, in an hour from this."
Jack mentioned the place of meeting, and then walked out of the room. He and Gascoigne then hastened to the quarters of an officer they were intimate with, and having provided themselves with the necessary fire-arms, were at the spot before the time. They waited for him till the exact time, yet no Don Silvio made his appearance.
"He's off," observed Gascoigne; "the villain has escaped us." Half an hour over the time had passed, and still there was no sign of Gascoigne's antagonist, but one of the Governor's aides-de-camp was seen walking up to them.
"Here's Atkins," observed Jack; "that's unlucky, but he won't interfere."
"Gentlemen," said Atkins, taking off his hat with much solemnity, "the Governor particularly wishes to speak to you both."
"We can't come just now—we'll be there in half an hour."
"You must be there in three minutes, both of you. Excuse me, my orders are positive—and to see them duly executed I have a corporal and a file of men behind that wall—of course, if you walk with me quietly there will be no occasion to send for their assistance."
"This is confounded tyranny," cried Jack. "Well may they call him 'King Tom.'"
"Yes," replied Atkins, "and he governs here in 'rey absoluto' so come along."
Jack and Gascoigne, having no choice, walked up to the government house, where they found Sir Thomas in the veranda, which commanded a view of the harbour and offing.
"Come here, young gentlemen," said the Governor, in a severe tone; "do you see that vessel about two miles clear of the port? Don Silvio is in it, going back to Sicily under a guard. And now remember what I say as a maxim through life. Fight with gentlemen, if you must fight, but not with villains and murderers. By consenting to fight with a blackguard, you as much disparage your cloth and compromise your own characters, as by refusing to give satisfaction to a gentleman.
"There, go away, for I'm angry with you, and don't let me see you till dinner-time."