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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #53509 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53509)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Joshua Marvel, by B. L. Farjeon
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: Joshua Marvel
-
-Author: B. L. Farjeon
-
-Release Date: November 12, 2016 [EBook #53509]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOSHUA MARVEL ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by
-Google Books (the University of California)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-Transcriber's Notes:
- 1. Page scan source: Google Books
- https://books.google.com/books?id=yZ4pAQAAIAAJ
- (the University of California)
- 2. [=e] indicates a macron over "e"
-
-
-
-
-
-JOSHUA MARVEL.
-
-
-BY
-
-B. L. FARJEON,
-
-AUTHOR OF "GRIF."
-
-
-
-NEW YORK:
-HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
-FRANKLIN SQUARE.
-1872.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-JOSHUA MARVEL.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I.
-CONCERNING CERTAIN FAMILY CONVERSATIONS AND THEIR RESULT.
-
-
-In the parish of Stepney, in the county of Middlesex, there lived,
-amidst the hundreds of thousands of human bees who throng that
-overcrowded locality, a family composed of four persons--mother,
-father, and two children, boy and girl--who owned the surprising name
-of Marvel. They had lived in their hive for goodness knows how many
-years. The father's father had lived there and died there; the father
-had been married from there; and the children had been born there. The
-bees in the locality, who elbowed each other and trod upon each
-other's toes, were poor and common bees, and did not make much honey.
-Some of them made just enough to live upon; and a good many of them,
-now and then, ran a little short. The consequence was, that they could
-not store any honey for a rainy day, and were compelled to labor and
-toil right through the year, in cold weather and in warm weather, in
-sunshine and in rain. In which respect they were worse off than other
-bees we know of that work in the summer and make themselves cosey in
-the winter.
-
-The bees in the neighborhood being common and poor, it was natural
-that the neighborhood itself should partake of the character of its
-inhabitants. But, common and poor as it was, it was not too common nor
-too poor for love to dwell in it. Love did reside there; not only in
-the hive of the Marvels, but in hundreds of other hives, tenanted by
-the humblest of humble bees.
-
-George Marvel had married for love; and, lest the reader should
-suppose that the contract was one-sided, it may be as well to mention
-that George Marvel's wife had also married for love. They fell in love
-in the way, and they married in the usual way; and, happy and
-satisfied with each other, they did not mar their enjoyment of the
-then present by thinking of the sharp stones which, from the very
-circumstances of their position, were pretty sure to dot the road of
-their future lives. There are many such simple couples in the world
-who believe that the future is carpeted with velvet grass, with the
-sun always shining upon it, and who find themselves all too soon
-stumbling over a dark and rocky thoroughfare.
-
-It was not long before the Marvels came to the end of _their_ little
-bit of carpet sunshine; yet, when they got upon the stones, they
-contrived by industry and management to keep their feet. George Marvel
-was a wood-turner by trade, and earned on an average about thirty-two
-shillings a week. What with a little new furniture now and then, and a
-little harmless enjoyment now and then, and a few articles of
-necessary clothing now and then, and the usual breakfasts, dinners,
-and teas, with a little bit of supper now and then, the thirty-two
-shillings a week were pretty well and pretty fully employed. So well
-and so fully were those weekly shillings employed, that it was often a
-very puzzling matter to solve that problem which millions of human
-atoms are studying at this present moment, and which consists in
-endeavoring to make both ends meet. That they did contrive, however,
-to make both ends meet (not, of course, without the tugging and
-stretching always employed in the process), was satisfactorily
-demonstrated by the fact that the family, were respected and esteemed
-by their neighbors, and that they owed no man a shilling. Not even the
-baker; for they sent for their loaves, and paid for them across the
-counter. By that they almost always received an extra piece to make up
-weight; and such extra pieces are of importance in a family. Not even
-the butcher; for Mrs. Marvel did her own marketing, and found it far
-cheaper to select her own joints, which you may be sure never had too
-much bone in them. Not even the cat's-meat man; for the farthing a day
-laid out with that tradesman was faithfully paid in presence of the
-carroty-haired cat (who ever heard of a cat with auburn hair?) who sat
-the while with eager appetite, looking with hungry eyes at the skewer
-upon which hung her modicum of the flesh of horse.
-
-Mrs. Marvel was a pale but not sad woman, who had no ambition in life
-worthy of being called one, save the ambition of making both ends
-meet, and of being able, although Stepney was not liable to floods, to
-keep the heads of her family above water. But, because Mrs. Marvel had
-no ambition, that was no reason why Mr. Marvel should not have any.
-Not that he could have defined precisely what it was if he had been
-asked; but that the constant difficulties which cropped up in the
-constant attempt to solve the problem (which has something perpetual
-in its nature) of making both ends meet, made him fretful. This
-fretfulness had found vent in speech day after day for many years; so
-that Joshua Marvel, the wood-turner's heir, had from his infancy
-upwards been in the habit of hearing what a miserable thing it was to
-be poor, and what a miserable thing it was to be cooped up, as George
-Marvel expressed it, and what a miserable thing it was to live until
-one's hair turned gray without ever having had a start in the world.
-It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that Joshua Marvel had
-gathered slowly in his mind the determination not to be a wood-turner
-all his life, but to start in the world for himself, and try to be
-something better; never for one moment thinking there was the most
-remote possibility of his ever being any thing worse. When, in the
-course of certain family discussions and conversations, this
-determination became known, it did not receive discouragement from the
-head of the family, although the tender-hearted mother cried by the
-hour together, and could not for the life of her see why Joshua should
-not be satisfied to do as his father had done before him.
-
-"And what is that, mother?" Mr. Marvel would ask. "What have I done
-before him? I've been wood-turning all my life before him--that's what
-I've been doing; and I shall go on wood-turning, I suppose, till my
-dying day, when I can't wood-turn any more. Why, it might be yesterday
-that I started as a boy to learn wood-turning. The first day I used
-the lathe I dreamed that I had cut my thumb off; and I woke up with a
-curious sensation in my jaw which has haunted me ever since like a
-ghost. That was before I knew you, mother. And now it is to-day, and
-I'm wood-turning still; and--How many white hairs did you pull out of
-my head last night, Sarah?"
-
-"Fourteen," replied Sarah; "and you owe me a farthing."
-
-"Fourteen," said Mr. Marvel, quietly repudiating the liability, which
-arose from an existing arrangement that Sarah should have a farthing
-for every dozen white hairs she pulled out of his head; "and next week
-it will be forty, perhaps; and the week after four hundred."
-
-"White hairs will come, father," said Mrs. Marvel; "we must all get
-'em when we're old enough."
-
-"I'm not old enough," grumbled Mr. Marvel.
-
-"And I don't see, father," continued Mrs. Marvel, "what the fourteen
-white hairs Sarah pulled out of your head has to do with Joshua."
-
-"Of course _you_ don't see, mother," said, Mr. Marvel, who had a
-contempt for a woman's argument; "you're not supposed to see, being a
-woman; but I _do_ see; and what I say is, wood-turning brings on white
-hairs quicker than any thing else."
-
-"Grandfather was a wood-turner," remarked Mrs. Marvel, "and he didn't
-have white hairs until he was quite old."
-
-"Well, he was lucky--that's all I can say; but, for all that, Josh
-isn't going to be a wood-turner, unless he's set his mind upon it."
-
-"I won't be a wood-turner, father," said Joshua.
-
-"All right, Josh," said Mr. Marvel; "you sha'n't."
-
-From this it will be seen that the voice maternal was weak and
-impotent when opposed to the voice paternal. But Mrs. Marvel, although
-by no means a strong-minded woman, had a will of her own, and a quiet
-unobtrusive way of working which often achieved a victory without
-inflicting humiliation. She did not like the idea of her boy leading
-an idle life; she had an intuitive conviction that Joshua would come
-to no good if he had nothing to do. She argued the matter with her
-good man, and never introduced the subject at an improper time. The
-consequence was, that her first moves were crowned with success.
-
-"If Joshua won't be a wood-turner, father "--she said.
-
-"Which he won't," asserted her husband.
-
-"Which he won't, as you say," Mrs. Marvel replied, like a sensible
-woman. "If he won't be a wood-turner, he must be something. Now he
-must be something, father--mustn't he?"
-
-This being spoken in the form of a question, left the decision with
-Mr. Marvel; and he said, as if the remark originated with himself,--
-
-"Yes; he must be something."
-
-And with that admission Mrs. Marvel rested content for a little while;
-but not for long. She soon returned to the attack; and asked her
-husband what Joshua should be. Now this puzzled Mr. Marvel; and he
-could not see any way out of the difficulty, except by remarking that
-the boy would make up his mind one of these fine days. But "these fine
-days"--in which people, especially boys, make up their minds--are
-remarkably like angels' visits; and the calendar of our lives often
-comes to an end without one of them being marked upon the record. To
-all outward appearance, this was likely to be the case with Joshua;
-and the task of making up his mind seemed to be so tardy in its
-accomplishment, that George Marvel himself began to grow perplexed as
-to the future groove of his son and heir; for Joshua kept himself
-mentally very much to himself. Vague wishes and desires he had; but
-they had not yet shaped themselves in his mind--which was most likely
-the reason why they had not found expression.
-
-Meanwhile Mrs. Marvel was not idle. She saw her husband's perplexity,
-and rejoiced at it. Her great desire was to see Joshua settled down to
-a trade, whether it were wood-turning or any other. Wood-turning she
-would have preferred; but, failing that, some other trade which would
-fix him at home; for with that keen perception which mothers only
-possess with regard to their children--a perception which springs from
-the maternal intellect alone, and which is born of a mother's watchful
-anxious love--she felt that her son's desires, unknown even to
-himself, might possibly lead him to be a wanderer from her world, the
-parish of Stepney, in which she was content to live and die. In that
-beehive she had been born; in that beehive she had experienced calm
-happiness and wholesome trouble; and in that beehive she wished to
-close her eyes; and to see her children's faces smiling upon her, when
-her time came to say good-by to the world of which she knew so little.
-With all a woman's cunning, with all a woman's love, she devoted
-herself to the task of weaning the mind of her favorite child from the
-restless aspirations which might drive him from her side.
-
-"Until Joshua makes up his mind what he is going to be, father," she
-said one night at candle-time, "it's a pity he should remain idle.
-Idleness isn't a good thing for a boy."
-
-"Idleness isn't a good thing for boy or man," said Mr. Marvel,
-converting his wife's remark into an original expression of opinion by
-the addition of the last two words. "But I don't see what we are to
-do, mother."
-
-"Suppose I get him a situation--as an errand-boy, perhaps--until he
-makes up his mind."
-
-"I'm agreeable," said Mr. Marvel, "if Josh is."
-
-But Josh was not agreeable. Many a fruitless journey did Mrs. Marvel
-make, trudging here and trudging there; and many an application did
-she answer in person to written announcements in shop-windows of
-"Errand-boy wanted." Joshua would not accept any of the situations she
-obtained for him. She got him one at a watchmaker's; no, he would not
-go to a watchmaker's: at a saddler's; no, he would not go to a
-saddler's; at a bootmaker's, at a tailor's; no, nor that, nor that.
-Still she persevered, appearing to gain fresh courage from every
-rebuff. As for Joshua, he was beginning to grow wearied of her
-assiduity. He was resolved not to go to any trade, but being of a very
-affectionate nature he desired to please his mother, and at the same
-time to convince her that it was of no use for her to worry him any
-longer. So he set her, what he considered to be an impossible task: he
-told her that he was determined not to go anywhere except to a
-printing office. He felt assured that she would never be able to get
-him within the sacred precincts of such an establishment. And even if
-she did, there was something more noble, something more distinguished
-and grander, in printing than in bootmaking, or tailoring, or
-watchmaking, or wood-turning. There was a fascinating mystery about
-it; he had seen watchmakers and tailors, and cobblers working, but he
-had never seen the inside of a printing-office. Neither had any of his
-boy-friends. He had been told, too, that there was an act of
-parliament which allowed printers to wear swords in the streets. That
-was a fine thing. How all the neighbors would stare when they saw him
-walking through the narrow streets of Stepney with sword at his side!
-Joshua had some sense of humor; and he chuckled to himself at the
-impossible task he had set his mother.
-
-He was therefore considerably astonished one day, when Mrs. Marvel
-told him she had obtained a situation for him as errand-boy in a
-newspaper-office. Did ever a woman fail, except from physical or
-mental prostration, in the accomplishment of a certain thing upon
-which she has set her mind? And if, in working for the accomplishment
-of the desired result, she brings to her aid an unselfish, unwearying
-love, _then_ did ever a woman fail? At all events Mrs. Marvel did not.
-After much labor, fortune befriended her; and she heard that an
-errand-boy was wanted at a certain printing-office where a weekly
-newspaper was printed. Thither she hurried, and soon found herself in
-a small dark office, in which the master sat.
-
-He treated her in the most off-hand manner. Yes, he wanted an
-errand-boy. Was he sharp, intelligent, willing? Oh, her son! Very
-well. Let him come to-morrow. Wages, four shillings a week. Time, from
-eight to eight. An hour to dinner, half an hour to tea. Good-morning.
-
-Thus the matter was settled, and Joshua engaged. Mrs. Marvel went home
-rejoicing.
-
-With fear and trembling, a little pleased and a good deal dismayed,
-Joshua made his way the next morning to the printing-office. Groping
-along a dark passage he came to a door on which the word "Office" was
-dimly discernible. The freshness of youthful paint had departed from
-the word; the letters were faded, and they appeared to be waiting to
-be quite rubbed out with a kind of jaded resignation. In response to
-the sharply-uttered "Come in!" Joshua opened the door, and entered the
-room. The person he saw before him had such a dissipated appearance,
-that any stranger would have been warranted in coming to the
-conclusion that he had not been in bed for a fortnight. The room was
-full of papers, very dusty and very dirty; and looked as if, from the
-day it was built, it had not found time to wash itself. Scarcely
-raising his eyes from a long slip of paper, upon which he was making a
-number of complicated marks, the occupant of the room said,--
-
-"It's of no use bothering me. I sha'n't have any copy ready for half
-an hour. Hallo! Who are you?"
-
-"The new errand-boy, sir," said Joshua, humbly.
-
-"Oh, very well! Take this proof up stairs and sweep the
-composing-room; then come down and clean the street-door plate. Cut
-along! Look sharp!"
-
-Looking as sharp as he could, Joshua walked up stairs, and found
-himself in the composing-room of the establishment. A number of men
-and boys, decorated with aprons with large bibs, were playing a
-mysterious game with hundreds and thousands of small pieces of lead,
-which they clicked with marvellous rapidity, but without any apparent
-meaning, against an instrument they held in their hands. He looked in
-vain for the swords which he had heard printers were allowed to wear,
-and he was covered with confusion at finding himself in the midst of
-so large an assemblage, who one and all appeared as if they were
-playing on a number of pianos without any tune in them. Going up to a
-youth whose head, covered with a profusion of red hair, looked as if
-it were in a blaze, Joshua asked to whom he should give the proof. "To
-Snooks," was the prompt reply. For which piece of information he
-received a slap on the side of his head from some person in authority;
-who taking the proof from Joshua, directed him to sweep up the room.
-While performing this task he surveyed the scene before him. There
-were sixteen men and four boys at work. All the men had the same
-dissipated look that he had observed upon the countenance of the
-master. Their faces, otherwise, were very clean; but the tips of the
-right-hand fore-finger and thumb of each were black with dirt, caused
-by the types which they picked up with those extremities from the
-boxes before them. Not a word was spoken, except what appeared to have
-reference to the business, and the conversation proceeded somewhat in
-this wise. One of the workmen, walking to a slab of iron placed in the
-middle of the room, took therefrom a sheet of manuscript, and looking
-at it negligently, shouted,--
-
-"Number three!"
-
-Another voice at the end of the room cried out,--
-
-"Awful Collision!"
-
-Joshua stopped in the midst of his sweeping, and waited for the shock.
-But as none came, he proceeded with his work, and thought that the
-second speaker was crazy. In the mean time the dialogue continued.
-
-Speaker number one: "End a break."
-
-Speaker number two: "All right," with a growl.
-
-Speaker number one: "What type?"
-
-Speaker number two, with another growl: "Minion."
-
-At the word "minion," which Joshua considered was a term expressive of
-any thing but respect, he expected speaker number one would walk up to
-speaker number two, and punch his head. Instead of which the insulted
-individual went into his corner again, and re-commenced playing his
-tuneless piano in the meekest possible manner. The overseer then going
-to a part of the room where long rows of type were placed in detached
-pieces, asked,--
-
-"How long will this Dreadful Suicide be before it's finished?"
-
-"Done in five minutes, sir," was the reply, in a cheerful voice.
-
-"Who's on the Inquest?" asked the overseer.
-
-"I am, sir."
-
-"Be quick and get it finished; you've been long enough over it. Now,
-then, how long is this Chancery Court to remain open?"
-
-"Close it up in two minutes, sir."
-
-And Joshua gazed with a kind of wonder at the individual who spoke, as
-if it were as easy to close the Court of Chancery as to close his
-hand.
-
-It was the day on which the paper was sent to press; the publishing
-hour was three o'clock in the afternoon; and as the work was
-behindhand, everybody was very busy. In the centre of the room was a
-large iron slab, and at one time the hammering and beating on this
-slab were terrific. Two, or three excited individuals, with mallets
-and iron sticks in their hands, advanced towards the type, which was
-laid upon the slab, with the apparent intention of smashing it to
-pieces. They commenced to do this with such extraordinary earnestness,
-that Joshua was on the point of rushing down stairs to the master to
-inform him that his property was being wantonly destroyed; but as the
-other workmen appeared to regard the proceeding as quite a matter of
-course, Joshua checked himself and thought it would perhaps be as well
-for him to say nothing about it. The overseer also continued to issue
-his strange orders; and during a slight cessation in the hammering, he
-peremptorily ordered the workman to "lock up that Escaped Lunatic, and
-be quick about it." At another time he gave directions to lay the
-Female in Disguise on the stone (meaning the iron slab), to unlock the
-Old Bailey, and to correct the Chancellor's Budget. Joshua grew
-perfectly bewildered. The information that there was an Escaped
-Lunatic in the room did not so much astonish as alarm him; but as to
-the Female in Disguise he could not identify her, and he waited in
-amazement to see what disguise she wore and where she would be brought
-from; at the same time entertaining the idea that to lay any female
-upon a stone was a decidedly improper proceeding. While in this state
-of mental perplexity, the overseer cried out,--
-
-"Now, then, who has the Female in Disguise in hand?"
-
-"I have, sir," a voice replied.
-
-"Bring it here, then," ordered the overseer, "and finish the
-corrections on the stone."
-
-"All right, sir."
-
-Joshua started and looked round to catch a sight of the female; in his
-agitation he stumbled against a workman who held a column of type in
-his arms. The type fell to the ground, and was smashed into thousands
-of pieces. In an instant the whole office was in confusion.
-
-"You've done it this time, youngster," the workman said in dismay,
-looking at the scattered type on the floor.
-
-Joshua did not exactly know what it was he _had_ done, but felt that
-it must be something very bad. He soon received practical proof of the
-extent of the mischief, for the master, rushing into the room, kicked
-him down stairs and told him to go about his business. Which Joshua
-did in a state of much bewilderment.
-
-Thus all the good intentions of Mrs. Marvel were frustrated. Joshua
-declared he would not take another situation, and his father sided
-with him and encouraged him. It must be confessed that Mr. Marvel
-continued to have his perplexities about Joshua's career, but to have
-openly admitted them would have been handing the victory to his wife.
-So he kept them to himself, and thus maintained his supremacy as
-master of the house. Many of his neighbors were henpecked, and he used
-to laugh at them. It would not have done to have given them the chance
-to laugh at him. Therefore, as time progressed, Mrs. Marvel's protests
-were less and less frequently made, and Joshua's determination not to
-be a wood-turner gathering strength month after month, it soon came to
-be recognized as quite a settled thing that he was to start in life
-for himself, and was not to do as his father had done before him.
-Pending his decision, Joshua continued to lead an idle life. But he
-was by no means viciously inclined; and much of his time was spent in
-the cultivation of two innocent amusements, both of which served him
-in good stead in the singular future which was in store for him. One
-of these amusements was a passion for music. He knew nothing of
-musical notation, and played entirely by ear; yet he managed to
-extract sweet melody from a second-hand accordion, of which, after
-long and patient saving of half pence and pence, he had become the
-happy purchaser. The other of his tastes grew out of a boyish love.
-How he acquired it will be recounted in the following chapters.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II.
-SHOWING HOW A PASSION FOR PUNCH AND JUDY MAY LEAD TO DISASTROUS
-CONSEQUENCES.
-
-
-There are few boys in the world who are without their boy-friends whom
-they worship, or by whom they are worshipped, with a love far
-surpassing in its unselfishness the love of maturer years. The memory
-of times that are gone is too often blurred by waves of sorrowful
-circumstance. Our lives are like old pictures; the canvas grows
-wrinkled, and the accumulated dust of years lies heavy upon figures
-that once were bright and fair. But neither dust nor wrinkles can
-obliterate the memory of the love we bore to the boy-friend with whom
-we used to wander in fields that were greener, beneath skies that were
-bluer, than fields and skies are now.
-
-Cannot you and I remember the time when we used to stroll into the
-country with our boy-friend, and, with arms thrown lovingly around
-each other's neck, indulge in day-dreams not the less sweet because
-they were never to be realized? And how, when we had built our
-castles, and were looking at them in the clouds, with our hearts
-filled with joyful fancies, we wandered in silence down the shady
-lane, sweet with the scent of the flowering May that shut us out from
-view on either side; and across the field with its luxuriant grass up
-to our ankles with everywhere the daisy peeping out to watch us as we
-passed; and over the heath where the golden gorse was blushing with
-joy; and down the narrow path to the well which shrunk from public
-observation at the bottom of a flight of cool stone steps, hewn out by
-the monks of a cloister which should have been hard by, but wasn't,
-having been destroyed in a bloody battle which took place once upon a
-time?
-
-Not many such experiences as these did Joshua and his boy-friend
-enjoy; for our Damon's Pythias, whose proper name was Daniel Taylor,
-was lame, with both his legs so badly broken that, had he lived unto
-the age of Methuselah and been fed upon the fat of the land, those
-props of his body would have been as useless to him all through his
-long life as if they had been blades of the tenderest grass.
-
-The Taylors had three children: Susan, Ellen, and Daniel Ellen and
-Daniel were twins, and when they were born Susan was ten years old.
-The worldly circumstances of the Taylors were no better than those of
-their neighbors; indeed, if any thing, they were a little worse than
-those of many around them. The parents, therefore, could not afford to
-keep a nurse-girl, and it was fortunate for them that they had
-provided one in the person of their elder daughter, and had allowed
-her to grow to a suitable age before they ventured to bring other
-children into the world. Fortunate as it was for the parents, it was
-most unfortunate for Daniel; for before he and his other half were
-born, Susan Taylor had contracted a passion almost insane in its
-intensity, to which her only brother was doomed to be a victim. That
-passion was a love for the British drama, as represented in Punch and
-Judy. All Susan's ambitions and yearnings were centred in the show;
-and it was not to be supposed that she would allow so small a matter
-as twins to interfere with her absorbing passion. How the liking for
-Punch and Judy had grown with her years and strengthened with her
-strength, it is not necessary here to trace. The fact remains, and is
-sufficient for the tragedy of poor Daniel's life. Squeezed to their
-sister's breast, Daniel and Ellen were condemned to take long journeys
-after Punch and Judy, and to be nursed at street-corners by a girl who
-had eyes and mind for nothing but the _dramatis personæ_ of that
-time-honored play. In her scrambles after the show she often wandered
-a long way from home, and tore her dress, and jammed her bonnet, and
-mudded her stockings, and knocked her boots out at the toes, and got
-herself generally into a disreputable condition. But in presence of
-the glories of Punch and Judy, which were to her ever fresh and ever
-bright, such discomforts sank into absolute insignificance. All paltry
-considerations were forgotten in the absorbing interest with which she
-watched the extraordinary career of the hero of the drama. She was
-insensible to the cuffs and remarks of the acting-manager who went
-round for contributions, which the on-lookers were solicited to drop
-into a tin plate or a greasy cap. He naturally resented Susan's
-presence at the exhibition, for she had never been known to contribute
-the smallest piece of copper towards the expenses. But neither his
-cuffs nor his resentful language had any effect upon Susan, who, in
-her utter disregard of all adverse circumstances, proved herself to be
-an ardent and conscientious admirer of the British drama. As a
-consequence of her peregrinations, she often found herself in strange
-neighborhoods, and did not know her way home. The anxiety she caused
-her mother, who was naturally proud of her twins, almost maddened that
-poor woman. She used to run about the neighborhood of Stepney,
-wringing her hands and declaring that her twins were kidnapped. At
-first the neighbors were in the habit of sympathizing with her, and of
-making anxious inquiries of one another concerning the children; but
-when, after some months of such uneventful excitement, they found that
-Susan and her twins were always brought home in good condition as
-regarded their limbs--although in a very disgraceful condition as
-regarded their personal appearance: but dirt counted for nothing in
-such a case of excited expectation--their ardor cooled, and they
-withheld their sympathy from the distressed mother. Indeed, they
-looked upon themselves in the light of injured individuals, because
-something really calamitous had not happened to the children. At
-length Susan became such a nuisance--not only at home, but at
-many police-stations, where she was popularly known as "that dirty
-girl again, with the twins"--that the mother was recommended to
-lock her up. Despairing of being able to cure her daughter of her
-Punch-and-Judy mania by any other means, the mother locked her up with
-her infant charges in a room on the first floor.
-
-That was a sad thing for poor Daniel. Susan very naturally sulked at
-being locked up, and at being deprived of her favorite amusement. Life
-had no joy for her without Punch and Judy. With Punch and Judy,
-existence was blissful; without Punch and Judy, existence was a blank.
-Regarding the twins as the cause of her imprisonment, she vented her
-spleen upon the unfortunate couple, and was spiteful enough to leave
-traces of yellow soap in their eyes when she washed them; and when
-they cried because of the smart, and rubbed their eyelids with their
-little fists to get rid of the unwelcome particles, she smacked them
-on the tenderest parts of their persons, and made them cry the more.
-But they were not destined to endure this kind of torture for more
-than a couple of days.
-
-On the third day of their imprisonment, Susan was sitting moodily on
-the floor, sulking as usual, and biting her lips and fretting, when
-suddenly the well-beloved "too-to-too-a-too" of the Punch-and-Judy
-showman came floating through the window. Wild with delight, she
-snatched up the twins, and, rushing to the window, bent her body
-forward, and looked out. Yes; there it was--there was the show
-Preparations were being made for the drama; the green curtain was
-down, the crowd was collecting, and the acting manager was already
-taking a critical survey of the persons who loitered, and was mentally
-marking down those who would not be allowed to stroll or slink away
-without being solicited for a fee. The front of the stage was not
-turned towards the window out of which Susan was looking; and she
-could only see part of the show. That was a terrible disappointment to
-her; and her suffering was really very great when she found that the
-gallows upon which Punch was to be hanged was erected just in that
-corner of the stage of which she could not obtain a glimpse. She
-stamped her foot upon the floor excitedly; and, bending her body still
-more forward in her eagerness, poor Daniel slipped out of her arms on
-to the pavement. For a moment Susan was so bewildered that she could
-not realize what had occurred: but, when she heard the sharp cry of
-agony to which Daniel gave utterance, and when she saw the crowd of
-people rushing with frightened faces towards the spot where the little
-fellow was lying, she ran into a corner of the room with the other
-child in her arms, and throwing her frock over her head, cowered down
-with her face to the wall, and began to cry. But little notice was
-taken of her. Daniel was picked up and carried into the house. He was
-not killed; but his two legs were badly broken, and were destined
-never to be of any use to him. So, as he had to depend upon artificial
-legs for support, Daniel began to learn the use of crutches almost
-before he had begun to learn to toddle.
-
-The love that existed between Joshua and Daniel sprang out of an
-innocent flirtation which was indulged in by Joshua Marvel and Ellen
-Taylor. The amatory youngsters exchanged vows when they were quite
-little things, and pledged themselves not to marry any one else: "no,
-not for the wide, wide world!" Innocent kisses, broken pieces of
-crockery with which they played at dinners and shops on back-window
-sills, and the building of grottoes when the oyster-season came round,
-were the material bonds which united the youthful loves of Joshua and
-Ellen.
-
-In due time Joshua was introduced to the family; not exactly as the
-accepted suitor of the little damsel, but in a surreptitious sneaking
-manner, which older suitors would have considered undignified. Such a
-mean position did he for sometime occupy in the house of his
-affianced, that on several occasions when Mr. Taylor came home drunk,
-Joshua was locked up in the coal-cellar, lest he should meet the eye
-of the tipsy parent, who, when he was in his cups, did not possess the
-most amiable disposition in the world. From that coal-cellar Joshua
-would emerge low-spirited and grimy, and in a despondent mood; but
-sundry marks of affection from Ellen, the effects of which were
-afterwards visible in black patches on her nose and cheeks and cherry
-lips, invariably restored him to cheerfulness. Such a courtship was
-not dignified; but Joshua and Ellen were perfectly satisfied; and so
-was Dan, who thoroughly approved of his twin-sister's choice of a
-sweetheart.
-
-As the children grew in years, the ties that united Ellen and Joshua
-were weakened; while those that united the boys were strengthened,
-until a very perfect and unselfish love was established between them.
-Both the lads were in the same condition as regarded their time.
-Joshua had his on his hands because he had not made up his mind what
-he was going to be; and Daniel had his on his hands because he had
-broken his legs. Each had his particular fancy. Joshua's was music;
-Dan's was birds.
-
-Condemned to a sedentary life from the nature of his affliction, and
-not able to run about as other boys did--for when his sister had let
-him fall from her arms out of the window the breaking of his legs was
-not the only injury he had received--Dan turned his attention to a
-couple of canaries which were part of his parents' household gods. In
-course of time the birds grew to be very fond of him; and he trained
-them to do such pretty tricks, and was himself of so gentle and
-amiable a disposition, that good-natured neighbors made him occasional
-presents of birds--such as a linnet, or a lark, or a pair of
-bullfinches--until he had gathered around him a small collection of
-feathered younglings. With these companions his life was as happy as
-life could be. He did not mope or fret because his legs were useless,
-and because he was compelled to use crutches; on the contrary, he
-absolutely loved his wooden props, as if they were bone of his bone
-and flesh of his flesh.
-
-"You are right not to be a wood-turner Jo," said Dan, when his friend
-related to him the substance of the family discussions. "If my legs
-were like yours, I wouldn't be."
-
-Dan called his friend "Jo." It was not quite right for Joshua, he
-said, but it sounded pretty. And so it did, especially from his lips.
-
-"I wish your legs _were_ like mine, Dan," said Joshua.
-
-"It's of no use wishing," replied Dan. "You know what mother says; it
-takes all sorts to make a world."
-
-"Sound legs and broken legs--eh, Dan?"
-
-"Yes," answered Dan merrily; "and long ones and short ones, and thick
-ones and thin ones. Besides, if I had the strongest and biggest legs
-in the world, I don't think I should be happier than I am."
-
-"But wouldn't you like to be a hero--the same as I am going to be?"
-asked Joshua.
-
-"We can't all be heroes. You go and fight with lions; I will stop and
-play with birds. I couldn't tame lions; but I _can_ tame birds." Which
-he could, and did.
-
-Dan was fond of speaking about lions because his name was Daniel; and
-many and many a time had he and Joshua read the wonderful story of
-Daniel in the lions' den. Joshua did not know much of the Bible until
-Dan introduced it to him, and read to him in his thin sweet voice the
-marvellous romances in that Book of books.
-
-"There was a hero for you!" exclaimed Joshua admiringly, referring to
-the biblical "I wonder what made him so brave."
-
-"Because he was doing what he knew to be right," replied Dan.
-
-"I dare say," was the acquiescent rejoinder.
-
-"And because he was not afraid to speak the truth even to Belshazzar;
-and because, above all, he believed in God. So God delivered him."
-
-"All because he was doing right," said Joshua.
-
-"All because he was doing right," repeated Dan. "I'm not a bit brave;
-that is because I am lame, perhaps. If I was thrown into a lions' den
-I should die of fear--I am sure I should; but if I was thrown into a
-birds' cage, full of strange birds, I would soon make friends with
-them; they would come and eat out of my hand in no time."
-
-Dan, indeed, was wonderfully learned about birds and their habits, and
-possessed a singular power over them. He could train them to any thing
-almost. And bear this in mind; he used no cruel means in his training
-of them. What he taught them he taught them by kindness; and they were
-subservient to him from love and not from fear. The nature of the
-affliction which condemned him to a sedentary life, sharpened and
-concentrated his mental faculties, and endued him with a surprising
-patience. If it had been otherwise, he could never have trained the
-birds so thoroughly. Never mind what they were--blackbirds, linnets,
-larks, bullfinches, canaries--they were one and all his willing
-slaves, and, in the course of time, performed the tasks he set them
-with their best ability. Give Dan any one of these birds' and in a few
-weeks it would hop upon his finger, dance at his whistle, come at his
-call, fall dead upon the table, and jump up again at a given signal as
-lively as a cricket. He made little carts for them to draw, little
-swords for them to carry, little ladders for them to climb up, little
-guns for them to fire off, little houses for them to go in at the
-doors of and come out of the chimneys of. It was a sight worth seeing
-to watch them go through their performances; to see the dead bird lie
-on its back on the table, and watch cunningly out of a corner of its
-left eye for the signal which allowed it to come to life again; to see
-the family birds, after indulging in a little sensible conversation on
-the doorstep, go into the house, the door of which closed with a
-spring directly they got on the inside of it, and then presently to
-see their heads pop out of the chimneys, as if their owners were
-wondering what sort of weather it was; to see the first villain of the
-company hop upon the cart in which the pop-gun was fixed, and hop upon
-a slip of wood which in some mysterious manner acted upon the gun, and
-caused it to go off--and then to see the desperado watch for dreadful
-consequences which never followed; to see that cold-blooded and
-desperate bird jump briskly down, as if it were not disappointed, and
-place its neck in a ring in the shafts, and hop away to another
-battle-field; to see the two military birds march up and down in front
-of the house, holding little wooden swords in their beaks, as who
-should say to an advancing foe, "Approach if you dare, and meet your
-doom!" to see the climbing-bird hop up the steps of the ladder, and
-then hop down again triumphantly, as if it had performed a feat of
-which bird-kind might be proud; and to know that the birds enjoyed the
-fun and delighted in it; were pleasant things to see and know, and
-could do no one any harm. Of course there were hitches in the
-performances; occasionally the birds were dull or obstinate; but, as a
-rule, they were tractable and obedient; and if they did sometimes
-bungle their tricks they might very well be excused, for they were but
-feeble creatures after all.
-
-So Dan passed his time innocently, and loved his pets, and his pets
-loved him. Joshua grew to love them too. He learned all their pretty
-little vocal tricks, and could imitate the different languages of the
-birds in such a wonderful manner that they would stop and listen
-to his warbling, and would answer it with similar joyful notes of
-their own. And when Dan and he were in a merry mood--which was not
-seldom--they and the birds would join in a concert which was almost as
-good, and quite as enjoyable, as the scraping of fiddles and the
-playing of flutes. Sometimes, in the evening, Joshua would play soft
-music upon his second-hand accordion; and directly he sounded the
-first note the birds would hop upon the table and stand in a line,
-with their heads inclined on one side, listening to Joshua's simple
-melodies with the gravity of connoisseurs, and would not flutter a
-feather of their little wings for fear they should disturb the harmony
-of sound.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III.
-LIFE AND DEATH OF GOLDEN CLOUD.
-
-
-There was one canary which they had christened Golden Cloud. It was
-one of the two canaries that Dan had first trained; and for this and
-other reasons Golden Cloud was a special favorite with the lads. Dan
-used to declare that Golden Cloud literally understood every word he
-spoke to it. And it really appeared as if Dan were right in so
-declaring and so believing; it was certainly a fact that Golden Cloud
-was a bird of superior intelligence. The other birds were of that
-opinion, or they would not have accepted its leadership. When they
-marched, Golden Cloud was at the head of them--and very proud it
-appeared to be of its position; when the performances took place,
-Golden Cloud was the first to commence; if any thing very responsible
-and very particular were to be done, Golden Cloud was intrusted with
-it; and if any new bird was refractory, it devolved upon Golden Cloud
-to assist Dan to bring that bird to its senses. The birds did not
-entertain a particle of envy towards Golden Cloud because it had
-attained an eminence more distinguished than their own; and this fact
-was as apparent, as it must have been astonishing, to any reflective
-human being who enjoyed the happy privilege of being present now and
-then at the performances of Dan's clever troupe. Even when old age
-crept upon it--it was in the prime of life when Dan first took it in
-hand--the same respect was paid to the sagamore of the company. Its
-sight grew filmed, its legs grew scaly, its feathers grew ragged. What
-matter? Had it not been kind and gentle to them when in its prime?
-Should they not be kind and gentle to it now that Time was striking it
-down? And was it not, even in its decrepitude, the wise bird of them
-all?
-
-Notwithstanding that it grew more and more shaky every hour almost,
-the old sense of duty was strong in the heart of Golden Cloud; and it
-strove to take part in the performances to the last. Golden Cloud had
-evidently learned the lesson, that to try always to do one's duty is
-the sweetest thing in life. In that respect it was wiser than many
-human beings, who should have been wiser than it. It was a melancholy
-sight, yet a comical one, withal, to see Golden Cloud lift a sword
-with its beak, and try to hold it there, and hop with it at the head
-of the company. It staggered here and there, and, being almost blind,
-sometimes hit an inoffensive bird across the beak, which caused a
-momentary confusion; but every thing was set right as quickly as could
-be. The other birds bore with Golden Cloud's infirmities, and made its
-labors light for it. Even the tomtit--that saucy, beautiful rascal,
-with its crown of Cambridge blue, who had been the most refractory
-bird that Golden Cloud ever had to deal with, who _would_ turn heels
-over head in the midst of a serious lesson, and who _would_ hop and
-twist about and agitate its staid companions with its restless
-tricks--even the tomtit, whose greatest delight was to steal things
-and break things, but whose spirit had been subdued and tamed by
-Golden Cloud's firmness, assisted the veteran in its old age, and did
-not make game of it.
-
-One evening Joshua came round to Dan's room rather later than usual,
-and found Dan in tears.
-
-"What is the matter, Dan?" asked Joshua.
-
-Dan did not reply.
-
-"Do your legs hurt you, Dan?" asked Joshua tenderly.
-
-Dan formed a "No" with his lips, but uttered no sound.
-
-Joshua thought it best not to tease his friend with any more
-questions. He saw that Dan was suffering from a grief which he would
-presently unbosom. He took his accordion on his knee and began to play
-very softly. As he played, a canary in a mourning-cloak came out of
-the toy-house; another canary in a mourning-cloak followed; then a
-bullfinch, and another bullfinch; then the tomtit and the linnets; and
-then the blackbirds; all in little black cloaks which Ellen Taylor's
-nimble fingers had made for them that day out of a piece of the lining
-of an old frock. At the sight of the first canary, with its black
-cloak on, Joshua was filled with astonishment; but when bird after
-bird followed, and ranged themselves solemnly in a line before him,
-and when he missed the presence of one familiar friend, he solved the
-riddle of their strange appearance; the birds were in mourning for the
-death of Golden Cloud.
-
-They seemed to know it, too; they seemed to know that they had lost a
-friend, and that they were about to pay the last tribute of respect to
-their once guide and master. The bullfinches, their crimson breasts
-hidden by their cloaks, looked, with their black masks of faces like
-negro birds in mourning; the amiable linnets, unobtrusive and shy as
-they generally were, were still more quiet and sad than usual; even
-the daring blackbirds were subdued--with the exception of one who, in
-the midst of a silent interval, struck up "Polly, put the kettle on,"
-in its shrill whistle, but, observing the eyes of the tomtit fixed
-upon it with an air of reproach, stopped in sudden remorse, with the
-"kettle" sticking in its throat.
-
-Dan had made a white shroud for Golden Cloud; and it was both
-quaint and mournful to see it as it lay in its coffin--Dan's
-money-box--surrounded by the mourners in their black cloaks. They
-stood quite still, with their cunning little heads all inclined one
-way, as if they were waiting for news concerning their dead leader
-from the world beyond the present.
-
-Joshua, with a glance of sorrow at the coffin, said,--
-
-"Your money-box, Dan!"
-
-"I wish I could have buried it in a flower-pot, Jo," replied Dan,
-suppressing a sob.
-
-"Why didn't you?"
-
-"Mother said father would be angry,"--
-
-Here the blackbird--perceiving that the tomtit was no longer observing
-it, and inwardly fretting that it should have been pulled up short in
-the midst of its favorite song; also feeling awkward, doubtless, with
-a kettle in its throat--piped out, with amazing rapidity and
-shrillness, "Polly, put the kettle on; we'll all have tea."
-
-The blue feathers in the tomtit's tail quivered with indignation, and
-its white-tipped wings fluttered reprovingly. Moral force was
-evidently quite thrown away upon such a blackbird as that; so the
-tomtit bestowed upon the recreant a sharp dig with its iron beak, and
-the blackbird bore the punishment with meekness; merely giving vent,
-in response, to a wonderful imitation of the crowing of an extremely
-weak cock, who led a discontented life in a neighboring back-yard.
-After which it relapsed into silence.
-
-Dan, who had stopped his speech to observe this passage between the
-birds, repeated,--
-
-"Mother said father would be angry; he knows how many flower-pots we
-have. So I used my money-box."
-
-"But you would rather have a flowerpot, Dan?"
-
-"I should have liked a flower-pot above all things; it seems more
-natural for a bird. Something might grow out of it; something that
-Golden Cloud would like to know is above it, if it was only a blade of
-grass."
-
-Joshua ran out of Dan's room and returned in a very few minutes with a
-flowerpot with mignonette growing in it. He was almost breathless with
-excitement.
-
-"It is mine, Dan," he said, "and it is yours. I bought it with my own
-money; and it shall be Golden Cloud's coffin."
-
-"Kiss me, Jo," said Dan.
-
-Joshua kissed him, and then carefully lifted the flower-roots from the
-pot, and placed Golden Cloud in the soft mould beneath. A few tears
-fell from Dan's eyes into the flowerpot coffin, as he looked for the
-last time upon the form of his pet canary. Then Joshua replaced the
-flower-roots, and arranged the earth, and Golden Cloud was ready for
-burial.
-
-"Play something, Jo," said Dan.
-
-Joshua took his accordion in his hands, and played a slow solemn
-march; and the birds, directed by Dan, hopped gravely round the
-flower-pot, the tomtit keeping its eye sternly fixed upon the
-rebellious blackbird, expressing in the look an unmistakable
-determination to put an instant stop to the slightest exhibition of
-indecency.
-
-"I don't know where to bury it," said Dan, when the ceremony was
-completed. "Ellen has been trying to pick out a flagstone in the yard,
-but she made her fingers bleed, and then couldn't move it. And if it
-was buried there, the stone would have to be trodden down, and the
-flowers in the coffin couldn't grow."
-
-"There's that little bit of garden in _our_ yard," said Joshua. "I can
-bury it there, if you don't mind. I can put the flowerpot in so that
-the mignonette will grow out of it quite nicely. It isn't very far,
-Dan," continued Joshua, divining Dan's wish that Golden Cloud should
-be buried near him; "only five yards off; and it is the best place we
-know of."
-
-Dan assenting, Joshua took the flowerpot, and buried it in what he
-called his garden; which was an estate of such magnificent proportions
-that he could have covered it with his jacket. He was proud of it
-notwithstanding, and considered it a grand property. A boundary of
-oyster-shells defined the limits of the estate, and served as a
-warning to trespassing feet. In the centre of this garden Golden Cloud
-was buried. When Joshua returned to Dan's room, the mourning-cloaks
-were taken off the birds--who seemed very glad to get rid of them--and
-they were sent to bed.
-
-Dan was allowed to sit up an hour longer than usual that night, and he
-and Joshua occupied those precious minutes in confidential
-conversation. First they spoke of Golden Cloud, and then of Joshua's
-prospects.
-
-"You haven't made up your mind yet what you are going to be, Jo," said
-Dan.
-
-"I haven't made up my mind," replied Joshua, "but I have an idea. I
-don't want you to ask me what it is. I will tell you soon--in a few
-weeks perhaps."
-
-"Where have you been to-day? You were late."
-
-"I went to the waterside."
-
-"To the river?"
-
-"To the river."
-
-"To the river that runs to the sea," said Dan musingly, with a dash of
-regret in his voice. "What a wonderful sight it must be to see the
-sea, as we read of it! Would you like to see it, Jo?"
-
-"Dearly, Dan!"
-
-"And to be on it?"
-
-"Dearly, Dan!"
-
-Dan looked at Joshua sadly. There was an eager longing in Joshua's
-eyes, and an eager longing in the parting of his lips, as he sat with
-hands clasped upon his knee.
-
-"I can see a great many things that I have never seen," said Dan; "see
-them with my mind, I mean. I can see gardens and fields and trees,
-almost as they are. I can fancy myself lying in fields with the grass
-waving about me. I can fancy myself in a forest with the great trees
-spreading out their great limbs, and I can see the branches bowing to
-each other as the wind sweeps by them. I can see a little stream
-running down a hill, and hiding itself in a valley. I can even see a
-river--but all rivers must be muddy, I think; not bright, like the
-streams. But I can't see the sea, Jo. It is too big--too wonderful!"
-
-Rapt in the contemplation of the subject, Dan and Joshua were silent
-for a little while.
-
-"Ships on the top of water-mountains," resumed Dan presently, "then
-down in a valley like, with curling waves above them. That is what I
-have read; but I can't see it. 'Robinson Crusoe' is behind you, Jo."
-
-Joshua opened the book--it was a favorite one with the lads, as with
-what lads is it not?--and skimmed down the pages as he turned them
-over.
-
-"'A raging wave, mountain-like, came rolling astern of us,'" he said.
-
-"That is the shipwreck," said Dan, looking over Joshua's shoulder.
-"Then here, farther down: 'I saw the sea come after me as high as a
-great hill, and as furious as an enemy.' Think of that! Here picture."
-
-The lads looked for the thousandth time at the rough wood-cut, in
-which Robinson was depicted casting a look of terror over his shoulder
-at the curling waves, ten times as tall as himself; his arms were
-extended, and he was supposed to be running away from the waves;
-although, according to the picture, nothing short of a miracle could
-save him.
-
-"Look!" said Joshua, turning a few pages back and reading, "'yonder lies
-a dreadful monster on the side of that hillock, fast asleep.'"
-
-"'I looked where he pointed,'" read Dan--it was a favorite custom with
-them to read each a few lines at a time--"'and saw a dreadful monster
-indeed, for it was a terrible great lion that lay on the side of the
-shore, under the shade of a piece of the hill that hung as it were a
-little over him. Xury, says I, you shall go on shore, and kill him.'"
-
-"Could you kill a lion, Jo?" asked Dan, breaking off in his reading.
-
-"I don't know," said Joshua, considering and feeling very doubtful of
-his capability.
-
-Dan resumed the reading:--
-
-"I took our biggest gun, which was almost musket-bore, and loaded it
-with a good charge of powder and with two slugs, and laid it down;
-then I loaded another gun with two bullets; and the third (for we had
-three pieces), I loaded with five smaller bullets.'"
-
-"No, I couldn't kill a lion," said Joshua, in a tone of disappointed
-conviction; "for I can't fire off a gun. But that occurred nearly two
-hundred years ago, Dan. I don't suppose there are as many lions now as
-there used to be."
-
-"And ships are different, too, to what they were then, Jo," said Dan,
-closing the book. "Stronger and better built. I dare say if it had
-been a very strong ship that Robinson Crusoe went out in, he wouldn't
-have been wrecked."
-
-"I am glad he was, though; if he hadn't been, we shouldn't have been
-able to read about him. It is beautiful, isn't it?"
-
-"Beautiful to read," replied Dan. "But he was dreadfully miserable
-sometimes; for twenty-four years and more he had no one to speak to.
-It appears strange to me that he didn't forget how to speak the
-English language, and that he didn't go mad. Now, Jo, supposing it was
-you! Do you think, if you had no one to speak to for twenty years,
-that you would be able to speak as well as you do now? Don't you think
-you would stammer over a word sometimes, and lose the sense of it?"
-
-Dan asked these questions so earnestly, that Joshua laughed, and
-said,--
-
-"Upon my word, I don't know, Dan."
-
-But the time was to come when the memory of Dan's questions came to
-Joshua's mind with a deep and solemn significance. "He had his parrot
-certainly," continued Dan; "but what used he to say to it? 'Robin,
-Robin, Robin Crusoe! Poor Robin Crusoe! How came you here? Where have
-you been, Robin?' That wasn't much to say, and to be always saying;
-and I am sure that if he kept on saying it for so many years, he must
-have entirely forgotten what the meaning of it was. You try it,--say a
-word, or two or three words, for a hundred times. You will begin to
-wonder what it means before you come to the end."
-
-"But he had his Bible; and you know what a comfort that was to him."
-
-"Perhaps that was the reason he didn't go mad. I dare say, too, that
-some qualities in him were strengthened and came to his aid because he
-was so strangely situated. What qualities now, Jo?"
-
-"I don't understand you, Dan."
-
-"I _do_ say things sometimes you don't understand at first, don't I,
-Jo?"
-
-Joshua nodded good-humoredly.
-
-"I am often puzzled myself to know what I mean. Leaving Robinson
-Crusoe alone, and speaking of qualities, Jo, take me for an instance.
-I am a cripple, and shall never be able to go about. And do you know,
-Jo, that my mind is stronger than it would have been if I were not
-helpless? I can see things."
-
-"Can you see any thing now, Dan?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"What?"
-
-"I can see something that will separate you and me, Jo."
-
-"Forever, Dan?"
-
-"No, not forever; we shall be together sometimes and then you can tell
-me all sorts of things that I shall never be able to see myself."
-
-"Don't you think your legs will ever get strong?" asked Joshua.
-
-"Never, Jo; they get worse and worse. And I feel, too, so weak, that I
-am afraid I shall not have strength to use my crutches much longer.
-Every thing about me--my limbs, and joints, and every thing--gets
-weaker and weaker every day. If it wasn't for my body, I should be all
-right. My mind is right. I can talk and think as well as if my body
-were strong. Stupid bits of flesh and bone!" he exclaimed, looking at
-his limbs, and good-humoredly scolding them. "Why don't you fly away
-and leave me?"
-
-At this point of the conversation Mrs. Taylor called out that it was
-time for Dan to go to bed, so the lads parted. That night Joshua
-dreamed that he killed a lion; and Dan dreamed that Golden Cloud came
-out of the flower-pot, and it wasn't dead, but only pretending.
-
-Dan had good reason for speaking in the way he did of his body, for it
-distressed him very much. Soon after the death of Golden Cloud, he
-grew so weak and ill that he was confined to his bed. But his mind
-scarcely seemed to be affected by his bodily ills, and his
-cheerfulness never deserted him. He had his dear winged companions
-brought to his bedroom, and they hopped about his bed as contentedly
-as could be. And there he played with them and took delight in them;
-and, as he hearkened to their chirrupings, and looked at their pretty
-forms, a sweet pleasure was in his eyes, a sweet pleasure was in his
-heart. And this pleasure was enhanced by the presence of Joshua, who
-spent a great deal of time with his sick friend.
-
-The tender love that existed between the lads was undefiled by a
-single selfish act or thought. They were one in sympathy and
-sentiment. Joshua was Dan's almost only companion during his illness.
-Dan's mother tended him and gave him his physic, which could not do
-him any good, the doctor said; but Mrs. Taylor's household duties and
-responsibilities occupied nearly the whole of her time; she could not
-afford to keep a servant, and she had all the kitchen-work to do.
-Ellen--Dan's twin-sister and Joshua's quondam sweetheart--was often in
-the room; but, young as she was, she was already being employed about
-the house assisting her mother. She scrubbed the floors and washed the
-clothes; and, although she was so little that she had to stand on a
-chair in the tiny yard to hang the clothes on the line, she was as
-proud of her work, and took as much pleasure in it, as if she were a
-grown woman, who had been properly brought up. Notwithstanding the
-onerous nature of her duties, she managed to spend half an hour now
-and again with Josh and Dan, and would sit quite still listening to
-the conversation. Her presence in the room was pleasing to the
-boy-friends, for Ellen was as modest and tidy a little girl as could
-be met with in a day's walk.
-
-Susan, Dan's unfortunate nursemaid, was a young woman now. But she had
-a horror of the sick-room. She entertained a secret conviction that
-she was a murderess, and really had some sort of an idea that if
-Daniel died she would be taken up and hanged. She was as fascinated as
-ever with Punch and Judy; but the fascination had something horrible
-in it. Often when she was standing looking at the show--and she was
-more welcome to the showman than she used to be, for now she sometimes
-gave him a penny--she would begin to tremble when the hangman came on
-the scene with his gallows, and would then fairly run away in a
-fright. Ever since she had let Daniel slip from her arms out of the
-window, there had been growing in her mind a fear that something
-dreadful was following her; and a dozen times a day she would throw a
-startled look behind her, as if to assure herself that there was
-nothing horrible there. She had been sufficiently punished for her
-carelessness. For a good many weeks after it occurred, bad little boys
-and girls in the neighborhood used to call after her, "Ah-h-h Who
-killed her little brother? Ah-h-h!" If she ran, they ran after her,
-and hooted her with the dreadful accusation. It took different forms.
-Now it was, "Ah-h-h-h! Who killed her little brother? Ah-h-h!" And now
-it was, "Ah-h-h! Who'll be hung for killing her little brother?
-Ah-h-h-h!" Such an effect did this cruel punishment have upon her,
-that she would wake up in terror in the middle of the night with all
-her fevered pulses quivering to the cry, "Ah-h-h-h! Who'll be hung for
-killing her little brother? Ah-h-h-h!" But time, which cures all
-things, relieved her. The bad boys and girls grew tired of saying the
-same thing over and over again. A new excitement claimed their
-attention, and poor Susan was allowed to walk unmolested through the
-streets. But the effect remained in the terror-flashes that would
-spring in her eyes, and in the agonized looks of fear that she would
-throw behind her every now and again, without any apparent cause.
-These feelings had such a powerful effect upon her, that she never
-entered Dan's room unless she were compelled to do so; and once, when
-Dan sent for her and asked her to forgive him for being naughty when
-he was a baby, she was so affected that she did nothing but shed
-remorseful tears for a week afterwards.
-
-One day, when Dan was playing with the birds, and no other person but
-he and Joshua was in the room, he said,--
-
-"Do you think the birds know that I am so weak and ill, Jo, dear?"
-
-"Sometimes I think they do, Dan," answered Joshua.
-
-"Dear little things! You haven't any idea how weak I really am. But I
-am strong enough for something."
-
-"What, Dan?"
-
-"If you don't ask any questions, I sha'n't tell you any stories,"
-replied Dan gayly. "Lend me your penknife."
-
-Joshua gave Dan his penknife, and when he came the next day Dan was
-cutting strips of wood from one of his crutches.
-
-"O Dan!" exclaimed Joshua, bursting into tears.
-
-Dan looked at Joshua, and smiled.
-
-"O you cry-baby!" he said. But he said it in a voice of exquisite
-tenderness; and he drew Joshua's head on to the pillow, and he laid
-his own beside it, and he kissed Joshua's lips.
-
-"I shall not want my crutches any more," he whispered in Joshua's ear
-as thus they lay; "that is all. It isn't as bad as you think."
-
-"You are not going to die, Dan?" asked Joshua in a trembling voice.
-
-"I don't think I am--yet. It is only because I am almost certain--I
-feel it, Jo--that I shall be a helpless cripple all my life, and that
-I shall not be able to move about, even with the help of crutches."
-
-"Poor dear Dan!" said Joshua, checking his sobs with difficulty.
-
-"Poor Dan! Not at all! I can read, I can think, and I can love you,
-Jo, all the same. I have made up my mind what I am going to do. I
-shall live in you. You are my friend, and strong as you are, you can't
-love me more than I love you. And even if I was to die, dear"--
-
-"Don't say that, Dan; I can't bear to think of it."
-
-"Why? It isn't dreadful. If I was to die, we should still be
-friends--we should still love each other. Don't you love Golden
-Cloud?"
-
-Joshua whispered "Yes."
-
-"But Golden Cloud is not here. Yet you love him. And so do I, more
-than I did when pet was alive. I don't quite know how it is with
-birds, but I do know how it is with us. If you was here, Jo, and I was
-there, we should meet again."
-
-"Amen, Dan!"
-
-"And it is nice to believe and know--as you and I believe and
-know--that if we were parted, we should come together again by and by;
-and that perhaps the dear little birds would be with us there as they
-are here, and that we should love them as we love them now. They are
-so pretty and harmless that I think God will let them come. Besides,
-what would the trees do without them?"
-
-"What do you mean, Dan, by saying that you are going to live in me?"
-
-"It is a curious fancy, Jo, but I have thought of it a good deal, and
-I want you to think of it too. I want to be with you, although I shall
-not be able to move. You are going to be a hero, and are going to see
-strange sights perhaps. I can see farther than you can; and I know the
-meaning of your going down to the riverside, as you have done a good
-many times lately. I know what you will make up your mind to be,
-although I sha'n't say until you tell me yourself. Well, Jo, I want
-you to fancy, if I don't know what is happening to you--if you are in
-any strange place, and are seeing wonderful things--I want you to
-fancy, 'Dan is here with me, although I cannot see him.' Will you do
-that, Jo, dear?"
-
-"Yes; wherever I am, and whatever I shall see, I will think, 'Dan is
-here with me, although I cannot see him.'"
-
-"That is friendship. This isn't," said Dan, holding up a finger; "this
-is only a little bit of flesh. If it is anywhere about us, it is
-here;" and he took Joshua's fingers, and pressed them to his heart.
-Then, after a pause of a few moments, he said, "So don't cry any more
-because I am cutting up my crutches; I am making some new things for
-the birds."
-
-They had a concert after that; and the blackbird whistled "Polly, put
-the kettle on," to its heart's content; and the tomtit performed
-certain difficult acrobatic tricks in token of approval.
-
-Dan recovered so far from his sickness as to be able to leave his bed.
-But it almost appeared as if he was right in saying that he should not
-want his crutches. He had not sufficient strength in his shoulders to
-use them. He had to be lifted in and out of bed, and sometimes could
-not even wash and dress himself. Ellen Taylor was his nurse, and a
-dear good nurse she proved herself to be. A cross word never passed
-her lips. She devoted herself to the service of her helpless brother
-with a very perfect love; and her nature was so beautiful in its
-gentleness and tenderness that those qualities found expression in her
-face, and made that beautiful also. Dan had yielded to Joshua's
-entreaties not to destroy his crutches. "You might be able to use them
-some day," Joshua would say. To which Dan would reply by asking gayly
-if Joshua had ever heard of a miracle in Stepney. However, he kept his
-crutches, and Joshua was satisfied. In course of time Joshua began to
-train a few birds at his own house, and now and then Dan's parents
-would allow Dan to be carried to Joshua's house, and to stop there for
-a few days. When that occurred, Dan and Joshua slept together, and
-would tell stories to each other long after the candle had been blown
-out--stories of which Joshua was almost always the hero. Joshua had
-one great difficulty to overcome when he first introduced the birds
-into his house; that difficulty was the yellow-haired cat, of which
-mention has already been made. With the usual amiability of her
-species, the domestic tigress, directly she set eyes upon the birds,
-determined to make a meal of them, and it required all Joshua's
-vigilance to prevent the slaughter of the innocents. But he was
-patient, and firm, and kind, and he so conquered the tigerish
-propensities of the cat towards the birds, that in a few weeks she
-began to tolerate them, and in a few weeks more to play with them and
-to allow them to play with her, and gradually grew so cordial with
-them that it might have been supposed she had kittened them by
-mistake.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV.
-IN WHICH DAN GETS WILD NOTIONS INTO HIS HEAD, AND MAKES SOME VERY
-BOYISH EXPERIMENTS.
-
-
-If every farthing of the allowance of pocket-money which Joshua and
-Dan received from their respective parents had been carefully saved
-up, it would not have amounted to a very large sum in the course of
-the year. Insignificant, however, as was the allowance, it sufficed
-for their small wants, and was made to yield good interest in the way
-of social enjoyment. The lads did not keep separate accounts. What
-was Joshua's was Dan's, and what was Dan's was Joshua's. As there were
-no secret clasps in their minds concealing something, which the other
-was not to share and enjoy, so there was no secret clasp in their
-money-box which debarred either from spending that which, strictly
-speaking, belonged to his friend. Dan was the treasurer; the treasury
-was the money-box which was to have been Golden Cloud's coffin. Dan's
-allowance was two pence a week, which was often in arrears in
-consequence of his father being too fond of public-houses; Joshua's
-allowance was four pence a week, which he received very regularly. But
-each of their allowances was supplemented by contributions from
-independent sources. The motives which prompted these contributions
-were of a very different nature; as the following will explain:--
-
-"Something more for the money-box, Dan," said Joshua, producing a
-four-penny piece, and dropping it into the box.
-
-"From the same party, Jo?" asked Dan.
-
-"From the same jolly old party, Dan. From the Old Sailor."
-
-"Is he nice?"
-
-"The Old Sailor? You should see him, that's all."
-
-"You have been down to the waterside again, then?"
-
-"Yes. Tuck-tuck-joey!" This latter to the linnet, who came out to have
-a peep at Joshua, and who, directly it heard the greeting, responded
-with the sweetest peal of music that mortal ever listened to. When the
-linnet had finished its song the obtrusive and greedy blackbird,
-determined not to be outdone, and quite ignoring the fact that it had
-had a very good supper, ordered Polly to put the kettle on, in its
-most piercing notes.
-
-"Did you go on the river, Jo?" asked Dan.
-
-"Yes. In a boat. Rowing. The Old Sailor says I am getting along
-famously."
-
-"I _should_ like to see the Old Sailor."
-
-"I wish you could; but he is such a strange old fellow! He doesn't
-care for the land. When I tell mother what I am making up my mind to
-be--what I shall have _made_ up mind then to be--I will coax him to
-come to our house. I want him to talk to mother about the sea, for she
-is sure to cry and fret, and although the Old Sailor doesn't think
-that women are as good as men, he thinks mothers are better."
-
-Dan laughed a pleasant little laugh.
-
-"That is queer," he said.
-
-"He knows all about you, and he asks me every day, 'How is Dan?'"
-
-"I am glad of that--very glad."
-
-"So am I. I have told him all about the birds, and how, they love you.
-You would never guess what he said to-day about you."
-
-"Something very bad, I dare say," said Dan, knowing very well, all the
-time, that it was something good, or Joshua would not tell him.
-
-"Something _very_ bad. He said, 'He must be a fine little
-chap'--meaning you, Dan--'or the birds wouldn't love him.'"
-
-"Has he been all over the world, Jo?"
-
-"All over the world; and O Dan, he has seen _such_ places!"
-
-"I tell you what we will do," said Dan. "To-morrow you shall buy a
-couple of young bullfinches, and you shall find out some tune the Old
-Sailor is fond of; and I will teach the bullfinches to whistle it.
-Then you shall give the birds to the Old Sailor, and say they are a
-present from me and you."
-
-"That will be prime! He will be so pleased!"
-
-"Have you ever heard him sing, Jo?"
-
-"Yes," answered Joshua, laughing; "I have heard him sing,--
-
-
- 'Which is the properest day to drink,
- Saturday, Sunday, Monday?
- Each is the properest day, I think--
- Why should I name but one day?
- Tell me but yours, I'll mention my day,
- Let us but fix on some day--
- Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday,
- Saturday, Sunday, or Monday.'"
-
-
-"I don't think that would do," said Dan, echoing Joshua's laugh.
-
-"Here's another," said Joshua, and he played a prelude to "Poor Tom
-Bowling," and sang the first verse,--
-
-
- 'Here a sheer hulk lies poor Tom Bowling,
- The darling of our crew;
- No more he'll hear the tempest howling,
- For death has broached him too.
- His form was of the manliest beauty,
- His heart was kind and soft,
- Faithful below Tom did his duty,
- But now he's gone aloft,
- But now he's gone aloft.'"
-
-Joshua sang the words with much tender feeling, but Dan shook his
-head.
-
-"The birds would never be able to get the spirit of the song
-into them," he said, "and the tune is nothing without that. Never
-mind--we'll teach them something, and then the Old Sailor shall have
-them."
-
-"And I shall tell him they are a present from you alone."
-
-"No," said Dan energetically; "that would spoil it all. They are from
-you and me together. Can't you guess the reason why?"
-
-"I believe I can," replied Joshua, after a little consideration. "The
-Old Sailor likes me, and you want him to like you because of me, not
-because of yourself alone; you want him to like me more because of
-you--as I am sure he will when he knows you."
-
-"That's it. I want him to know that we love each other, and that we
-shall always love each other, whether we are together or separated. I
-want everybody who likes you, Jo, to like me."
-
-Joshua laid his hand upon Dan's, which rested on the table, and Dan
-placed his other hand upon Joshua's playfully. Their hands were
-growing to be very unlike. Dan's hand, as it grew, became more
-delicate, while Joshua's grew stronger and more muscular. Dan laughed
-another pleasant laugh as he remarked the difference between them.
-"That is a proper kind of hand for a hero," he said. And then, in a
-more serious voice, "Joshua, do you know I think we can see each
-other's thoughts." And so, indeed, it appeared as if they could.
-
-The next day the bullfinches were bought, and Dan began to train them.
-They were a pair of very young birds, not a dozen days old, and the
-air Dan fixed upon to teach them first was "Rule, Britannia."
-
-So much for Joshua's supplemental contributions to the general fund.
-Now for Dan's.
-
-"Another sixpence in a piece of paper, Jo!"
-
-"That makes eighteen pence this month, Dan. Poor Susan!"
-
-"Poor Susan!" echoed Dan.
-
-Susan was very much to be pitied. Looking upon herself as her
-brother's destroyer, she endeavored, by offerings of sixpences as
-often as she could afford them, to atone for the crime--for so she now
-regarded it--by which she had made him a helpless cripple. These
-sixpences were not given openly; they were laid, as it were, upon the
-sacrificial altar in secret. Sometimes the altar was one of Ellen's
-shoes, and Ellen, when she dressed herself, would feel something
-sticking in her heel, and discover it to be a sixpence tightly screwed
-up in a piece of paper, with the words, "For Dan; from Susan," written
-on it; sometimes the altar was one of Dan's pocket-handkerchiefs,
-and the sixpence was tied up in a knot; sometimes it was a bag of
-bird-seed; sometimes Dan's cap. She was so imbued with a sense of
-guilt, that she trembled when she met Dan's eye. He was as kind and
-gentle to her, when he had the opportunity, as he was to all around
-him; and divining her secret remorse, he tried by every means in his
-power to lessen it. But the feeling, that, if Dan died, she was a
-murderess, was too deeply implanted in her to be ever removed. She
-lived in constant fear. She was afraid of the dark, and could not
-sleep without a rush-light near her bedside. Often in the night, on
-occasions when Dan was weaker than usual, she would creep down stairs,
-and listen at his bedroom-door to catch the sound of his breathing. If
-she did not hear it at first, the ghostly echo of the old terrible
-cry, "Ah-h-h-h! who killed her little brother? Ah-h-h-h!" filled the
-staircase and the passage with dreadful shadows; shadows that seemed
-to thicken and gather about her as if possessed with a desire to
-stifle her--and she would press her hands tightly upon her eyes so
-that she should not see them. Then perhaps she would open Dan's door
-quietly, and hearing him breathe, ever so softly, would creep up
-stairs again, a little more composed; always closing her door quickly,
-to prevent the shadows on the stairs from coming into her room.
-
-The supplemental contributions from Susan and the Old Sailor were very
-acceptable to Dan and Joshua, who were both fond of reading. What was
-not spent in birds' food was spent in books. They subscribed to two
-magazines, the "Penny Magazine" and the "Mirror," which came out
-weekly; the subscription was a serious one for them, and made a great
-hole in their pocket-money: it swallowed up three pence per week. The
-addition of a new book to their modest library was one of the proudest
-events in their quiet lives. "New" books is not a strictly correct
-phrase, for the collection consisted of second-hand volumes, picked up
-almost at random at old-book stalls. Although their library was a
-small one, not numbering in its palmiest days more than fifty volumes,
-it was wonderfully miscellaneous. Now it was a book of travels that
-Joshua bought; now a book of poems; now an odd volume of a magazine;
-now a book on natural history; now a speculative book which neither of
-the boys could understand--not at all a weak reason in favor of its
-being purchased. Over these books the boys would pore night after
-night, and extract such marrow from them as best suited their humor.
-The conversations which arose out of their readings were worth
-listening to; Dan's observations, especially, were very quaint and
-original, and gave evidence, not only of good taste, but of the
-possession of reflective powers of a high order.
-
-An old book on dreams which Joshua bought for a song, as the saying
-is, proved especially attractive to Dan. The proper title of the book
-was the "Philosophy of Dreams," an ambitious sub-title--the "Triumph
-of Mind over Matter"--being affixed. Dan read and re-read this book
-with avidity. In it the writer contended that a person could so
-command and control his mental forces, as to train himself to dream of
-events which were actually taking place at a distance from him, at the
-precise moment they occurred. Space, said the author, was of the
-smallest consequence. There was one thing, however, that was
-absolutely necessary--that a perfect sympathy should exist between the
-dreamer and the person or persons of whom he was dreaming. It was a
-wildly-speculative book taken at its best, and contained much
-irrelevant and ridiculous matter; but it was just the kind of book to
-attract such a lad as Dan, and it set him thinking. "Perfect sympathy!
-Such a sympathy," he thought, "as exists between me and Jo;" and he
-proceeded to read with greater eagerness. The author, in support of
-his theory, dragged in nearly all the sciences; and drew largely upon
-that of phrenology. He explained where certain organs lay, such as
-wonder, veneration, benevolence, destructiveness, and proceeded
-somewhat in the following fashion: Say that a person is sleeping, and
-that he is not disturbed by any special powerful emotion, arising
-probably from strong anxiety connected with his worldly circumstances.
-His mind must be at rest, and his sleep be calm and peaceful. Under
-these circumstances, if a certain organ, say the organ of veneration,
-be gently pressed, the sleeper will presently dream a dream, in which
-the sentiment of veneration will be the quality most prominently
-brought into play. And so with wonder, and benevolence, and
-combativeness, and other qualities. Having stated this very
-distinctly, the writer proceeded, as if the mere statement were
-sufficient proof of its incontestability: say that between the sleeper
-and the operator a strong and earnest sympathy existed; the operator,
-selecting in his mind some person with whom they are both acquainted,
-brings his power of will to bear upon the sleeper. (Here the writer
-interpolated that the experiment would fail if the organs of
-concentrativeness and firmness were not more than ordinarily large in
-the operator.) With his mind firmly fixed upon the one object, he
-wills that the sleeper shall dream of their mutual acquaintance; and
-as he wills it, with all the intensity he can exercise, he gently
-manipulates the sleeper's organ of tune--which, by the way, the author
-stated he believed was the only one of the purely intellectual
-faculties which could be pressed into service. The sleeper will then
-dream of the selected person, and his sense of melody and the harmony
-of sound will be gratified. Then, in a decidedly vague manner, as if
-he had got himself in a tangle from which he did not know how to
-extricate himself, the author argued that what one person could do to
-another, he could do also to himself, and that the effect produced
-upon another person by physical manipulation may be produced upon
-one's self by a strong concentration of will. During our waking
-moments he said, the affective faculties of our mind are brought into
-play. Thus, we see and wonder; thus, we see and venerate; thus, we see
-and pity. These faculties or sentiments are excited and make
-themselves felt without any effort on our part. If, then,
-circumstances, which previously did not affect us, can thus act upon
-us without the exercise of voluntary effort to produce sensation; if
-circumstances, in which we had no reason to feel the slightest active
-interest, can cause us to venerate, to pity, to wonder--broadly, to
-rejoice and to suffer--why should we not be able, by the aid of a
-powerful sympathy and an earnest desire, to bring into reasoning
-action the faculties which are thus excited by uninteresting and
-independent circumstances?
-
-Thus far the author: unconscious that he had fallen into the serious
-error of confounding the affective with the intellectual faculties,
-and not appearing to understand that, whereas an affective faculty can
-be brought into conscious action by independent circumstances, an
-intellectual faculty requires a direct mental effort before it is
-excited. His essay was not convincing. He wandered off at tangents;
-laid down a theory, and, proceeding to establish it, so entangled
-himself that he lost its connecting threads; and had evidently been
-unable to properly think out a subject which is not entirely unworthy
-of consideration. However, he had written his book, and it got into
-Dan's hands and into Dan's head. Joshua did not understand it a bit,
-and said so; and when he asked Dan to explain it, Dan could scarcely
-fit words to what was in his mind.
-
-"Although I cannot explain it very clearly, I can understand it," said
-Dan. "He means to say that a person can see with his mental sight"--
-
-"That is, with his eyes shut," interrupted Joshua jocularly.
-
-"Certainly, with his eyes shut," said Dan very decidedly. "Our eyes
-are shut when we dream, yet we see things." Joshua became serious
-immediately; the answer was a convincing one. "And that proves that we
-have two senses of sight--one in the eyes, the other in the mind.
-Haven't you seen rings, and circles, and clouds when you are in bed at
-night, and before you go to sleep? I can press my face on the pillow
-and say--not out loud, and yet I say it and can hear it--which shows
-that all our senses are double." (In his eagerness to explain what he
-could scarcely comprehend, Dan was in danger of falling into the same
-error as the author of the "Triumph of Mind over Matter" had fallen
-into, that of flying off at tangents: it was with difficulty he could
-keep to his subject.) "Well, Jo, I press my head into the pillow, and
-say, 'I will see rings,' and presently I see a little ball, black,
-perhaps, and it grows and grows into rings--like what you see when you
-throw a stone in the water--larger, and larger, all the different
-colors of the rainbow; and then, when they have grown so large as to
-appear to have lost themselves in space--just like the rings in the
-water, Jo--another little ball shapes itself in the dark, and
-gradually becomes visible, and then the rings come and grow and
-disappear as the others did. When I have seen enough, I say--not out
-loud again, Jo, but silently as I did before--'I don't want to see any
-more,' and they don't come again. What I can do with rings, I can do
-with clouds. I say, 'I will see clouds,' and they come, all colors of
-blue, from white-blue to black-blue; sometimes I see sunsets."
-
-"I have seen them too, Dan," said Joshua; "I have seen skies with
-stars in them, just as I have seen them with my eyes wide open."
-
-"Now, if we can do this," continued Dan, "why cannot we do more?"
-
-"We can't do what he says in this book," said Joshua, drumming with
-his fingers on the "Philosophy of Dreams."
-
-"I don't know. Why should he write all that unless he knew something?
-There is no harm in trying, at all events. Let me see. Here is a chart
-of a head, Jo turning to a diagram in the book. Where is
-combativeness? Oh! here, at the back of the head, behind the ear. Can
-you feel it, Jo? Is it a large bump? No; you are going too high up, I
-am sure. Now you are too much in the middle. Ah! that's the place, I
-think."
-
-These last sentences referred to Joshua's attempt to find Dan's organ
-of combativeness.
-
-"I don't feel any thing particular, Dan," he said.
-
-"But you feel something, don't you, Jo?" asked Dan anxiously. "There
-_is_ a bump there, isn't there?"
-
-"A very little one," answered Joshua, earnestly manipulating Dan's
-head, and pressing the bump. "Do you feel spiteful?"
-
-"No," said Dan, laughing.
-
-"There's a bump twice as large just above your fighting one."
-
-"What is that bump?" said Dan, examining the diagram again. "Ah that
-must be adhesiveness."
-
-"I don't know what that means."
-
-"Give me the dictionary;" and Dan with eager fingers turned over the
-pages of an old Walker's Dictionary. "'Adhesive--sticking,
-tenacious,'" he read. "That is, that I stick to a thing, as I mean to
-do to this. Now I'll tell you what we'll do, Jo. I shall sleep at your
-house to-morrow night, and when I am asleep, you shall press my organ
-of combativeness--put your fingers on it--yes, there; and when I wake
-I will tell you what I have dreamed of."
-
-"All right," said Joshua, removing his fingers.
-
-"You will be able to find the place again?"
-
-"Yes, Dan."
-
-"And you will be sure to keep awake?"
-
-"Sure, Dan."
-
-The following night, Joshua waited very patiently until Dan was
-asleep. He had to wait a long time; for Dan, in consequence of his
-anxiety, was longer than usual getting to sleep. Once or twice Joshua
-thought that his friend was in the Land of Nod, and he commenced
-operations, but he was interrupted by Dan saying drowsily, "I am not
-asleep yet, Jo." At length Dan really went off, and then Joshua, very
-quietly and with great care, felt for Dan's organ of combativeness,
-and pressed it. Joshua looked at his sleeping friend with anxiety.
-"Perhaps he will hit out at me," he thought. But Dan lay perfectly
-still, and Joshua, after waiting and watching in vain for some
-indication of the nature of Dan's sleeping fancies, began to feel very
-sleepy himself, and went to bed. In the morning, when they were both
-awake, Joshua asked what Dan had dreamed of.
-
-"I can't remember," said Dan, rubbing his eyes.
-
-"I pressed your combativeness for a long time, Dan," said Joshua; "and
-I pressed it so hard that I was almost afraid you would hit out."
-
-"I didn't, did I?"
-
-"No; you were as still as a mouse."
-
-"I dreamed of something, though," said Dan, considering. "Oh, I
-remember! I dreamed of you, So; you were standing on a big ship, with
-a big telescope in your hand. You had no cap on, and your hair was all
-flying about."
-
-"Were there any sailors on the ship?"
-
-"A good many."
-
-"Did you quarrel with any of them?"
-
-"I didn't dream of myself at all."
-
-"Did any of the sailors quarrel with me?"
-
-"There wasn't any quarrelling, Jo, that I can remember."
-
-"So you see," said Joshua, "that it is all fudge."
-
-"I don't see that at all. Now I think of it, it isn't likely that I
-should dream of quarrelling with any one or fighting with any one when
-I was dreaming of you, Jo."
-
-"Or perhaps you haven't any combativeness, Dan."
-
-"Perhaps I haven't. It wouldn't be of much use to me if I had, for I
-shouldn't know how to fight."
-
-"Or perhaps your combativeness is so small that it won't act," said
-Joshua sportively.
-
-"Don't joke about it, Jo," said Dan. "You don't know how serious I am,
-and how disappointed I feel at its being a failure. Will you try it
-again to-night?"
-
-Joshua, seeing that Dan was very much in earnest, readily promised;
-and the experiment was repeated that night, with the same result.
-After that the subject dropped for a time.
-
-But if Dan's organ of adhesiveness--which, phrenologically, means
-affection, friendship, attachment--was large, it was scarcely more
-powerful than his organ of concentrativeness. His love for Joshua was
-perfect. He knew that Joshua's choice of a pursuit would separate him
-from his friend. When he said to Joshua, "I shall live in you, Jo,"
-the words conveyed the expression of no light feeling, but of a deep
-earnest longing and desire to be always with his friend--to be always
-with him, although oceans divided them. If no misfortune had befallen
-him, if his limbs had been sound and his body strong, Dan would have
-been intellectually superior to boys in the same station of life as
-himself. Debarred as he was from their amusements, their anxieties,
-and their general ways of life he was thrown, as it were, upon his
-intellect for consolation. It brought him, by the blessing of God,
-such consolation that his misfortune might have been construed into a
-thing to be coveted. There is good in every thing.
-
-All Dan's sympathies were with Joshua. Dan admired him for his
-determination, for his desire to be better than his fellows. It was
-Dan who first declared that Joshua was to be a hero; and Joshua
-accepted Dan's dictum with complacency. It threw a halo of romance
-around his determination not to be a wood-turner, and not to do as his
-father had done before him. The reader, from these remarks, or the
-incidents that follow, may now or presently understand why the
-wildly-vague essay on the "Philosophy of Dreams; or the Triumph of
-Mind over Matter," took Dan's mind prisoner and so infatuated him.
-
-Referring to the book again, after the failure of the experiments upon
-his organ of combativeness, Dan found a few simple directions by which
-the reader could test, in a minor degree, the power of the mind over
-the sleeping body. One of the most simple was this: A person, before
-he goes to sleep, must resolutely make up his mind to wake at a
-certain hour in the morning. He must say to himself, "I want to wake
-at five o'clock--at five o'clock--at five o'clock; I _will_ awake at
-five o'clock--I will--I will--I will!" and continue to repeat the
-words and the determination over and over again until he fell asleep,
-with the resolve firmly fixed in his mind. If you do this, said the
-writer, you will awake at five o'clock. Dan tried this experiment the
-same night--and failed. He repeated it the following night, and the
-night following that, with the same result. His sleep was disturbed,
-but that was all. But on the fourth night matters were different. Five
-o'clock was the hour Dan fixed upon, and nothing was more certain than
-that on the fourth night Dan woke up at the precise moment. There were
-two churches in the immediate neighborhood, and, as he woke, Dan heard
-the first church-bell toll the hour. One, two, three, four, five. Each
-stroke of the bell was followed by a dismal hum of woful tribulation.
-Then the other church-bell struck the hour, and each stroke of that
-was followed by a cheerful ring, bright and crisp and clear. Dan
-smiled and hugged himself, and went to sleep again, cherishing wild
-hopes which he dared not confess even to himself. He tried the
-experiment on the following night, fixing on a different time,
-half-past three. Undaunted by that and many other failures, he tried
-again and again, until one night he awoke when it was dark. He waited
-anxiously to hear the clocks strike. It seemed to be a very long
-half-hour, but the church-bell struck at last. One, two, three, four.
-With a droning sound at the end of each stroke, as if a myriad bees,
-imprisoned in a cell, were giving vent to a long-sustained and
-simultaneous groan of entreaty to be set free; or as if the bell were
-wailing for the hour that was dead. Then the joyous church-bell struck
-One, two, three, four. A wedding-peal in each stroke; sparkling,
-although invisible, like stars in a clear sky on a frosty night.
-
-Dan went to sleep, almost perfectly happy.
-
-He repeated his experiment every night, until he had a very nearly
-perfect command over sleep as far as regarded time, and could wake
-almost at any hour he desired. Then he took a forward step. While
-playing with his birds he said, "To-night I will dream of you." But the
-thought intervened that he had often dreamed of the birds and that to
-dream of them that night would not be very remarkable. So he said,
-"No, I will not dream of the birds that are living; I will dream of
-Golden Cloud." It was a long time now since Golden Cloud had been
-buried, but Dan had never forgotten his pet. When he went to bed he
-said, "I will dream of Golden Cloud--a pleasant dream." And he dwelt
-upon his wish, and expressed it in words, again and again. That night
-he dreamed of Golden Cloud, and of its pretty tricks; of its growing
-old and shaky; of its death and burial. Then he saw something that he
-had never seen before. He saw it lying quite contented and happy at
-the bottom of its flower-pot coffin, and when he chirruped to it, it
-chirruped in return.
-
-He told his dream to Joshua.
-
-"I have dreamed of Golden Cloud a good many times," said Joshua.
-
-"But I made up my mind especially to dream of Golden Cloud," said Dan,
-"and I dreamed of it the same night. At other times, my dreaming of it
-was not premeditated. It came in the usual way of dreams."
-
-"What do you want me to believe from all this Dan?
-
-"That, as the author of that book says, you can dream of any thing you
-wish. I scarcely dare believe that I shall be able to dream of what I
-shall most desire by and by. By and by, Jo," he repeatedly sadly,
-"when you and me are parted."
-
-Joshua threw his arms around Dan's neck.
-
-"And you are doing all this, dear Dan, because you want to dream of
-me?"
-
-"And because I want to be with you, Jo, and to see things that you
-see, and never, never to be parted from you." The wistful tears ran
-down Dan's cheek as he said these words.
-
-"It would be very wonderful," said Joshua; "almost too wonderful. And
-I shall think, 'Dan is here with me, although I cannot see him.'"
-
-"Listen again to what he says, Jo," said Dan, opening the "Triumph of
-Mind over Matter." "A person can so command and control his mental
-forces as to train himself to dream of events that are actually taking
-place at a distance from him, at the precise moment they occur."
-
-"And that is what you want to do when I am away, Dan."
-
-"That is what I want to do when you are away, dear Jo."
-
-"I am positive you can't do it."
-
-"Why? I dreamed of Golden Cloud when I wanted to."
-
-"I can understand that. But how did you dream of Golden Cloud, Dan?
-You dreamed of him as if he was alive"--
-
-"At first I did; but afterwards I saw him in the flower-pot, dead."
-
-"And Golden Cloud chirruped to you?"
-
-"Yes, Jo."
-
-"Think again, Dan. Golden Cloud was dead, and Golden Cloud chirruped
-to you!"
-
-"Yes, Jo," faltered Dan, beginning to understand the drift of Joshua's
-remarks.
-
-"That is not dreaming of things as they are, Dan," said Joshua gently,
-taking Dan's hand and patting it. "If you could dream of Golden Cloud
-as he is now, you would see nothing of him but a few bones--feathers
-and flesh all turned to clay. Not a chirrup in him, Dan dear, not a
-chirrup!"
-
-Dan covered his eyes with his hand, and the tears came through his
-fingers, But he soon recovered himself.
-
-"You are right, Jo," he said: "yet I'm not quite wrong. The man who
-wrote that book knew things, depend upon it. He was not a fool. _I_
-was, to think I could do such wonders in so short a time."
-
-Dan showed, in the last sentence, that he did not intend to relinquish
-his desire. He said nothing more about it, however, and in a few
-minutes the pair of bullfinches were on the table in a little cage,
-whistling, "Rule, Britannia," the high notes of which one of the birds
-took with consummate ease.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V.
-JOSHUA MAKES UP HIS MIND TO GO TO SEA.
-
-
-Who was the Old Sailor?
-
-Simply an old sailor. Having been a very young sailor indeed once upon
-a time, a great many years ago now, when, quite a little boy, he ran
-away from home and went to sea out of sheer love for blue water. In
-those times many boys did just the same thing, but that kind of boyish
-romance has been gradually dying away, and is now almost dead. Steam
-has washed off a great deal of its bright coloring. The taste of the
-salt spray grew so sweet to the young sailor's mouth, and the sight of
-the ocean--the waters of which were not always blue, as he had
-imagined--grew so dear to his eyes, that every thing else became as
-naught to him. And so, faithful to his first love, he had grown from a
-young sailor to an old sailor. At the present time he was living in a
-rusty coal-barge, moored near the Tower stairs; and, although he could
-see land and houses on the other side of the water, there was a curl
-in his great nostrils as if he were smelling the sweet salt spray of
-the sea, and a staring look in his great blue eyes, as if the grand
-ocean were before him instead of a dirty river. He was a short
-thick-set man, and his face was deeply indented with small-pox;
-indeed, so marked were the impressions which that disease had left
-upon him, that his face looked for all the world like a conglomeration
-of miniature salt-cellars. His name was Praiseworthy Meddler. The sea
-was his world--the land was of no importance whatever. Not only was
-the land of no importance in his eyes, but it was a place to be
-despised, and the people who inhabited it were an inferior race. From
-him did Joshua Marvel learn of the glories and the wonders of the
-ocean, and from him came Joshua's inspiration to be a sailor.
-
-For Joshua had settled upon the road which was to lead him to fame and
-fortune. By the time that he had made up his mind what was to be his
-future walk in life, most other lads in the parish of Stepney of the
-same age and condition as himself were already at work at different
-businesses, and had already commenced mounting that ladder which led
-almost always to an average of something less than thirty-two
-shillings a week for the natural term of their lives. Although, up to
-this period of his life, Joshua's career had been a profitless one, as
-far as earning money was concerned, his time had not been thrown away.
-The tastes he had acquired were innocent and good, and were destined
-to bear good fruit in the future. The boyish friendship he had formed
-was of incalculable value to him; for it was undoubtedly due, in a
-great measure, to that association that Joshua was kept from contact
-with bad companions. He had not yet given evidence of the possession
-of decided character, except what might be gathered from a certain
-quiet determination of will inherited from his mother, but stronger in
-him than in her because of his sex, and from a certain unswerving
-affection for any thing he loved. A phrenologist, examining his head,
-would probably have found that the organs of firmness and adhesiveness
-predominated over all his other faculties; and for the rest, something
-very much as follows. (Let it be understood that no attempt is here
-being made to give a perfect analysis of Joshua's faculties, but that
-mention is only being made of those organs which may help to explain,
-if they be remembered by the reader, and if there be any truth in
-phrenology, certain circumstances connected with Joshua's career, the
-consequences of which may have been varied in another man.) Well,
-then, adhesiveness and firmness very large; the first of which will
-account for his strong attachment for Dan, and the second for his
-determination, notwithstanding his mother's efforts, not to
-take to wood-turning nor any other trade, but to start in
-life for himself: Inhabitiveness very small; and as inhabitiveness
-means a tendency to dwell in one place, the want of that faculty
-will account for his desire to roam. All his moral and religious
-faculties--such as benevolence, wonder, veneration, and
-conscientiousness--were large; what are understood as the
-semi-intellectual sentiments--constructiveness, imitation and
-mirthfulness--he possessed only in a moderate degree; but one,
-ideality, was largely developed. Four of his intellectual
-faculties--individuality, language, eventuality, and time--call for
-especial notice: they were all very small, the smallest of them being
-eventuality, the especial function of which is a memory of events.
-Mention being made that his organs of color and tune were large, this
-brief analysis of Joshua's phrenological development is completed.
-
-For the purpose of fitting himself for his future career, Joshua had
-lately spent a great deal of his time at the waterside, and in the
-course of a few months' experience in boats and barges on the River
-Thames, had made himself perfectly familiar with all the dangers of
-the sea. Praiseworthy Meddler had a great deal to do with Joshua's
-resolve. His attention had been directed to the quiet well-behaved
-lad, who came down so often to the waterside, and who sat gazing, with
-unformed thoughts, upon the river. Not upon the other side of it,
-where tumble-down wharves and melancholy walls were, but along the
-course of it, as far as its winding form would allow him to do so.
-Then his imagination followed the river, and gave it pleasanter banks
-and broader, until he could scarcely see any banks at all, so wide had
-the river grown; then he followed it farther still, until it merged
-into an ocean of waters, in which were crowded all the wonders he had
-read of in books of travel and adventure: wastes of sea, calm and
-grand in sunlight and in moonlight; fire following the ship at night,
-fire in the waters, as if millions of fire-fish had rushed up from the
-depths to oppose the wooden monster which ploughed them through;
-shoals of porpoises, sharks, whales, and all the wondrous breathing
-life in the mighty waters; curling waves lifting up the ship, which
-afterwards glides down into the valleys: blood moons, and such a
-wealth of stars in the heavens, and such feather-fringed azure clouds
-as made the heart beat to think of them; storms, too--dark waters
-seething and hissing, thunder awfully pealing, lightning flashes
-cutting the heavens open, and darting into the sea and cutting that
-with keen blades of light, then all darker than it was before: all
-these pictures came to Joshua's mind as, with eager eyes and clasped
-hands, he sat gazing at the dirty river. He held his breath as the
-storm-pictures came, but there was no terror in them; bright or dark,
-every thing he saw was tinged with the romance of youthful imagining.
-Praiseworthy Meddler spoke first to Joshua, divined his wish,
-encouraged it, told the lad stories of his own experience, and told
-them with such heartiness and enthusiasm, and made such a light matter
-of shipwreck and such like despondencies, that Joshua's aspirations
-grew and grew until he could no longer keep them to himself. And, of
-course, to whom should he first unbosom himself in plain terms but to
-his more than brother, Dan?
-
-He disclosed his intentions in this manner: he was playing and singing
-'Tom Bowling,' the words of which he had learned from old
-Praiseworthy. He sang the song through to the end, and Dan repeated
-the last two lines,--
-
-
- "For though his body's under hatches,
- His soul is gone aloft."
-
-
-"_My_ body has been under hatches today, Dan," said Joshua, "although
-I wasn't in the same condition as poor Tom Bowling. I dare say," with
-a furtive look at Dan, "that I shall often be under hatches."
-
-"Ah!" said Dan. He knew what was coming.
-
-"The Old Sailor has been telling me such stories, Dan! What do you
-think? He was taken by a pirate-ship once, and served with them for
-three months."
-
-"As a pirate?"
-
-"Yes; he has been a pirate. Isn't that glorious? It was an awful
-thing, though; the ship he was in--a merchantman--saw the pirate-ship
-giving chase. They tried to get away, but the pirates had a ship twice
-as good as theirs, and soon overhauled them. Then the grappling-irons
-were thrown, and the pirates swarmed into the merchantman, and there
-was a terrible fight. Those who were not killed were taken on board
-the pirate-ship, the Old Sailor among the rest. There were three women
-with them, and O Dan! would you believe it?--those devils, the
-pirates, killed them every one, men and women too, and threw them
-overboard--killed every one of them but the Old Sailor."
-
-"How was it that he was saved, Jo?"
-
-"That is a thing he never could make out, he says. It turned him sick
-to see the pirates slashing away with their cutlasses, but when they
-came to the women he was almost mad. He was bound to a mast by a
-strong rope, and when he saw a woman's face turned to him and looking
-at him imploringly, although her eyes were almost blinded by blood"--
-
-"Oh!" cried Dan with a shudder, as if he could see the dreadful
-picture.
-
-"It was a woman who had had a kind word for every one on the
-merchant-ship--a lady she was, and everybody loved her," continued
-Joshua, with kindling eyes and clinched fists. "When the Old Sailor
-saw her looking at him, he gave a yell, and actually broke the rope
-that bound him. But a dozen pirates had him down on the deck the next
-moment. He fought with them, and called out to them, 'Kill me, you
-devils!' You should hear the Old Sailor tell the story, Dan! 'Kill me,
-you devils!' he cried out, and he grappled with them, and hurt some of
-them. You may guess that they were too many for him. They bound him in
-such a zig-zag of ropes--round his neck and legs and back and
-arms--that he couldn't move, and they kicked him into a corner. There
-he lay, with his eyes shut, and heard the shrieks of his poor
-companions, and the splashes in the water as their bodies were thrown
-overboard. After that there was a great silence. 'Now it is my turn,'
-he said to himself, and he bit his tongue, so that he should not
-scream out. But it wasn't his turn; some of the pirates came about
-him, and talked in a lingo he couldn't understand, and when he thought
-they were going to slash at him, they went away, and left him lying on
-the deck alive! He lay there all night, dozing now and then, and,
-waking up in awful fright; for every time he dozed, he fancied that he
-heard the screams of the poor people who had been killed, and that he
-saw the bloody face of the poor lady he had tried to save. They didn't
-give him any thing to eat or drink all night; all they gave him was
-kicks. 'Then,' said the Old Sailor, 'they're going to starve me!' If
-he could have moved, he would have thrown himself into the sea, but he
-was too securely tied. Well, in the morning, the captain, who could
-speak a little English, came and ordered that the ropes should be
-loosened. 'Now's my time,' said the Old Sailor, and he felt quite
-glad, Dan, he says; and he says, too, that he felt as if he could have
-died happy if they had given him a chew of tobacco. 'Open your eyes,
-pig of an Englishman!' cried the captain, for the Old Sailor kept his
-eyes shut all the time. 'I sha'n't, pig of the devil!' roared the Old
-Sailor; but, without meaning it, he did open his eyes. 'Look here,
-pig,' said the captain, 'you are a strong man, and you ought to be a
-good sailor.' 'I'd show you what sort of a sailor I am, if you would
-cut these infernal'"--
-
-"O Jo!" said Dan, with a warning finger to his lips.
-
-"That is what the Old Sailor said, Dan," continued Joshua. "'I'd show
-you what sort of a sailor I am, if you would cut these--you know
-what--ropes, and give me a cutlass or a marlin-spike!' But the captain
-only laughed at him; and said, 'Now, pig, listen. You will either do
-one of two things. You will either be one of us'-- 'Turn pirate!'
-cried the Old Sailor; 'no, I'll be--you know what, Dan--if I do!'
-'Very well, pig,' said the captain; 'refuse, and you shall be cut to
-pieces, finger by finger, and every limb of you. I give you an hour,
-pig, to think of it.' The Old Sailor says that, if he had had a bit of
-tobacco, he would have chosen to be killed, even in that dreadful
-manner, rather than consent to join them. He never in all his life
-longed so for a thing as he longed then for a quid, as he calls it. It
-made him mad to see the dark devils chewing their tobacco as they
-worked. 'Anyhow,' he thought, 'I may as well live as be killed. I
-shall get a chance of escape one day.' So when the hour was up, and
-the captain came, the Old Sailor told him that he would oblige them by
-not being chopped into mince-meat, if they would give him a chew of
-tobacco. They gave it to him, and unbound him; and that is the way he
-became a pirate."
-
-"And how did he get away, Jo?" asked Dan.
-
-"That is wonderful, too," continued Joshua. "He was with them for
-three months, and saw strange things and bad things, but never took
-part in them. They tried to force him to do as they did, but he
-wouldn't. And he made himself so useful to them, and worked so hard,
-that it wasn't to their interest to get rid of him."
-
-"I think the Old Sailor must be a little bit of a hero, Jo,"
-interrupted Dan.
-
-Joshua laughed heartily at this. "You will not say so when you see
-him."
-
-"Why? I suppose he is ugly."
-
-Joshua raised his hand expressively.
-
-"And weather-beaten, and all that"--
-
-"And knows," said Joshua, still laughing, "'Which is Saturday, Sunday,
-Monday?'"
-
-"Still he may be a hero--not like you, Jo, because you will be
-handsome."
-
-"Do you think so?"
-
-If by some strange chance a picture of Joshua, as he was to be one
-day, had presented itself to the lads, how they would have wondered
-and marvelled as to what could have been the youth of such a man as
-they saw before them! Look at Joshua now, as he is sitting by Dan's
-side. A handsome open-faced lad, full of kindly feeling, and with the
-reflex of a generous loving nature beaming in his eyes. Honest face,
-bright eyes, laughing mouth that could be serious, strong limbs, head
-covered with curls--a beautiful picture of happy boyhood. But no more
-surprising miracle could have occurred to Dan than to see Joshua, as
-he saw him then sitting by his side, and then to see the shadow of
-what was to come.
-
-"Do you think so?" and Joshua laughingly repeated the question.
-
-"Do I think so" said Dan, gazing with pride at his friend. "O Mr.
-Vanity! as if you didn't know!"
-
-Joshua, laughing more than ever, protested that he had never given it
-a thought, and promised that he would take a good long look at himself
-in the glass that very night. At the rate the lads were going on, it
-appeared as if the Old Sailor's story would never be completed, and so
-Daniel said, to put a stop to Joshua's nonsense.
-
-"It is all your fault, Dan," said Joshua, "because you _will_
-interrupt. Well, when the Old Sailor had been in the ship for three
-months, it was attacked by a cruiser which had been hunting it down
-for a long time. All the pirates were taken--the Old Sailor and
-all--and sold as slaves at Algiers. They wouldn't believe his story
-about his not being a pirate, and he was sold for a slave with the
-rest of them. He worked in chains in the fields for a good many
-weeks--he doesn't remember how many--until Lord Exmouth bombarded the
-forts, and put a stop to Christian slavery. And that is the Old
-Sailor's pirate-story."
-
-"And now to return to what we were saying before you commenced," said
-Dan. Joshua placed his hands at the back of his head, and interlacing
-his fingers, looked seriously at Dan, and drew a long breath: "You
-have something to tell me, Jo."
-
-"I have," said Joshua. "I have made up my mind what I am going to be.
-You can guess if you like."
-
-"I have no need to guess, Jo, dear; I know, I have seen it all along."
-
-"What is it, then?"
-
-"You are going to sea," said Dan, striving to speak in a cheerful
-voice, but failing.
-
-"Yes, I shall go to sea;" and Joshua drew another long breath. "How
-did you find it out, Dan the Wise?"
-
-"How did I find it out, Jo the Simple? Haven't I seen it in your eyes
-for ever so long? Haven't you been telling me so every day? It might
-escape others' notice, but not mine."
-
-"I told the Old Sailor to-day, and he clapped me on the back, and said
-I was a brave fellow. But he knew it all along, too, he said. And he
-took me into his cabin--such a cabin, Dan--and poured out a tiny glass
-of rum, and made me drink it. My throat was on fire for an hour
-afterwards."
-
-"Have you told mother and father?"
-
-"No."
-
-"Tell them at once, Jo. Go home now, and tell them. I want to be left
-alone to think of it. O Jo! and I am going to lose you!"
-
-Dan had tried hard to control himself, but he now burst into a passion
-of weeping; and it is a fact, notwithstanding that they were both big
-boys, that their heads the next moment were so close together that
-Dan's tears rolled down both their faces. Joshua's heart was as full
-as Dan's, and he ran out of the room more to lessen Dan's grief than
-his own.
-
-Thus it fell out that in the evening, when the members of the Marvel
-family, variously occupied, were sitting at the kitchen fire, Joshua
-said suddenly to his relatives,--
-
-"I should like to go to sea."
-
-George Marvel was smoking a long clay-pipe; Mrs. Marvel was darning a
-pair of worsted stockings, in which scarcely a vestige of their
-original structure was left; and Sarah Marvel was busily engaged in a
-writing-lesson, in the execution of which she was materially assisted
-by her tongue, which, hanging its full length out of her mouth, was
-making occasional excursions to the corners of her lips. George Marvel
-took the pipe from his lips and looked at the fire meditatively; Mrs.
-Marvel burst into tears, and let the worsted stocking, with the needle
-sticking in it, drop into her lap; and Sarah Marvel, casting a
-doubtful look at her writing-lesson, every letter in which appeared to
-be possessed with a peculiar species of drunkenness, removed her eyes
-to her brother's face, upon which she gazed with wonder and
-admiration. So engrossed was she in the contemplation, that she put
-the inky part of the pen into her mouth, and sucked at it in sheer
-absence of mind.
-
-"Don't cry, mother," said George Marvel. "What was that you said,
-Josh?"
-
-"I should like to go to sea, father."
-
-"Ah!" ejaculated Mr. Marvel thoughtfully, looking steadily into the
-fire.
-
-Joshua was also looking into the fire, and he saw in it, as plain as
-plain could be, a fiery ship, full-rigged, with fiery ropes and fiery
-sails, and saw himself, Joshua Marvel, standing on the poop, dressed
-in gold-laced coat and gold-laced cocked-hat, with a telescope in his
-hand. For Joshua, without the slightest idea as to how it was all to
-come about, had made up his mind that he was to be a captain, dressed
-as Nelson was in a picture which was one of Praiseworthy Meddler's
-prize possessions, and which occupied the place of honor in the Old
-Sailor's cabin. While this vision was before Joshua Mrs. Marvel
-continued to cry, but in a more subdued manner.
-
-"And so you want to be sailor, Josh?" queried Mr. Marvel.
-
-"Yes. A sailor first, and then a captain."
-
-The intermediate grades were of too small importance to be considered.
-
-"I am sure, Josh," said Mrs. Marvel, crying all the while, "I don't
-see what you want to go away for. Why don't you make up your mind even
-now to apprentice yourself to father's trade and be contented? You
-might get a little shop of your own in time, if you worked very hard,
-and it would be pleasant for all of us."
-
-"You be quiet, mother," said Mr. Marvel. "What do women know about
-these things? I'm Joshua's father, I believe"--
-
-"Yes, George, I believe you are," sobbed Mrs. Marvel.
-
-"And, as Joshua's father, I tell you again, once and for all, that
-he's not going to be a wood-turner. Here's the old subject come up
-again with a vengeance! I wish a woman's clothes were like a woman's
-ideas; then they would never wear out. A wood-turner! A pretty thing a
-wood-turner is! I've been a wood-turner all my life, and what better
-off am I for it?"
-
-"I am sure, father, we have been very happy," said Mrs. Marvel.
-
-"I am not saying any thing about that," observed Mr. Marvel,
-expressing in his voice a very small regard for domestic happiness,
-although, in reality, no man better appreciated it. "What I say is,
-I've been a wood-turner all my life; and what I ask is, what better
-off am I, or you, or any of us, for it? If Josh likes to be a
-wood-turner, he can; I have nothing to say against it, except that
-he's been a precious long time making up his mind. And if he likes to
-be a sailor, he can; I have nothing to say against that. I'm Joshua's
-father, and, as Joshua's father, I say if Josh likes to make a start
-in life for himself as a sailor, let him. If I was Josh, I would do
-the same myself."
-
-"Thank you, father," said Joshua. "And, mother, if you only heard what
-Mr. Praiseworthy Meddler says of the sea, you would think very
-differently; I know you would."
-
-But Mrs. Marvel shook her head and would not be comforted.
-
-"My father was a wood-turner," said Mr. Marvel, "and he made me a
-wood-turner. He never asked me whether I would or I wouldn't, and I
-didn't have a choice. If he had have asked me, perhaps we shouldn't
-have gone on pinching and pinching all our lives. Now Joshua's
-different; he's got his choice: never forget, Josh, that it was your
-father who gave you the world to pick from--and I think he's acting
-sensibly, as I should have done if _my_ father had given me the
-chance. But he didn't, and it's too late for a man with his head full
-of white hairs to commence life all over again."
-
-And Mr. Marvel fell to smoking his pipe again, and studying the fire.
-
-"I've never seen the sea myself," he presently resumed; "but I've read
-of it, and heard talk of it. There are better lands across the seas
-than Stepney, for a youngster like Josh. There are lots of chances,
-too; and who knows what may happen?"
-
-"That's where it is, father," whimpered Mrs. Marvel; "we don't know
-what might happen. Suppose Josh is shipwrecked; what would you say
-then? You'd lie awake night after night, father--you know you
-would--and wish he had been a wood-turner. I've never seen the sea,
-and I never want to; I've been happy enough without it. It's like
-flying in the face of Providence. And what's to become of us when we
-are old, if Josh can't take care of us?"
-
-"Just so, mother. Listen to me, and be sensible. Suppose Josh becomes
-a wood-turner; he can't expect to do better than his father has done.
-I am not a bad workman myself; and though Josh might make as good, I
-don't think he'd make a better. Now what I say again is--and it's
-wonderful what a many times a man has to say a thing before he can
-drive it into a woman's head, if she ain't willing--although I'm a
-good workman what better off am I for it? And what better off would
-Josh be for it, when he gets to be as old as I am? We've commenced to
-lay by a good many times--haven't we, Maggie?--but we never could keep
-on with it. First a bit of sickness took it; then a bit of furniture
-that we couldn't do without took it; then a rise in bread and meat
-took it; and then a bit of something else took it. You've been a good
-woman to me, Maggie, and you've pinched all you could for twenty
-years; and what has come of all your pinching? There's that old teapot
-you used to lay by in. It's at the back of the cupboard now, and it
-hasn't had a shilling in it for I don't know when's the time. It would
-be full of dust, mother, only you don't like dust; and a good job too.
-But it ain't your fault that it isn't full of something better; and it
-ain't my fault. It's all because I've been a wood-turner all my days.
-And the upshot of it is, that we're not a bit better off now than we
-were twenty years ago. We're worse off; for we've spent twenty good
-years and got nothing for them."
-
-"We've got Josh and Sarah," Mrs. Marvel ventured to say. The simple
-woman actually regarded those possessions as of inestimable value--but
-that is the way of a great many foolish mothers.
-
-Her husband did not heed the remark. He took another pull at his pipe,
-but drew no smoke from it. His pipe was out; but in his earnestness he
-puffed away at nothing, and continued,--
-
-"Who is to take care of us, you want to know, when we grow old, if
-Josh don't. When Josh grows up, Josh will get married, naturally."
-
-"So shall I, father," interrupted Sarah, who was listening with the
-deepest interest to the conversation.
-
-"Perhaps, Sarah," said Mr. Marvel a little dubiously. "Girls ain't
-like boys; they can't pick and choose. Josh will get married,
-naturally; and Josh will have children, naturally. Perhaps he'll have
-two; perhaps he'll have six."
-
-"Mrs. Pigeon's got thirteen," remarked Sarah vivaciously.
-
-"Be quiet, Sarah. Where did you learn manners? Now if Josh has six
-children, and, being a wood-turner, doesn't do any better as a
-wood-turner than his father has done--and he's a presumptuous young
-beggar if he thinks he's going to do better than me"--
-
-"I don't think so, father," said Joshua.
-
-"Never mind. And he's a presumptuous young beggar if he thinks he's
-going to do better than me," Mr. Marvel repeated; he relished
-the roll of the words--"what's to become of us then? Josh, if he's a
-wood-turner with six children, can't be expected to keep his old
-father and mother. He will have enough to do as it is. But if Josh
-strikes out for himself, who knows what may happen? He may do this, or
-he may do that; and then we shall be all right."
-
-There was not the shadow of a doubt that in that house the gray mare
-was the worse horse, in defiance of the old adage.
-
-"And as to Joshua's being shipwrecked," continued Mr. Marvel, "you
-know as well as I do, mother, that it would be enough to break my
-heart. But I don't believe there's more danger on the sea than on the
-land. There was Bill Brackett run over yesterday by a brewer's dray,
-and three of his ribs broken. You don't get run over by a brewer's
-dray at sea. And what occurred to William Small a month ago? He was
-walking along as quiet and inoffensive as could be, when a brick from
-a scaffold fell upon his head, and knocked every bit of sense clean
-out of him. They don't build brick houses on the sea. Why, it might
-have happened to me, or you, or Josh!"
-
-"Or me, father," cried Sarah, not at all pleased at being deprived of
-the chance of being knocked on the head by a brick.
-
-"Or you, Sarah. So, mother, don't let us have any more talk about
-shipwrecks."
-
-"But if Josh _does_ get shipwrecked, father," persisted Mrs. Marvel,
-"remember that I warned you beforehand."
-
-"But Josh is not going to get shipwrecked," exclaimed Mr. Marvel,
-slightly raising his voice determined not to tolerate domestic
-insubordination; "therefore, hold your tongue, and say nothing more
-about it."
-
-There was one privilege for the possession of which Mr. Marvel, had
-fought many a hard battle in the early days of his married life, and
-which he now believed he possessed by right of conquest; that was the
-privilege of having the last word. To all outward appearance Mrs.
-Marvel respected this privilege; but in reality she set it at
-defiance. It was a deceptive victory that he had gained; for if he had
-the last audible word, Mrs. Marvel had the last inaudible one. Woman
-is a long-suffering creature; she endures much with patience and
-resignation; but to yield the last word to a man is a sacrifice too
-great for her to make. There are, no doubt, instances of such
-sacrifice; but they are very rare. Many precious oblations had Mrs.
-Marvel made in the course of her married life; but she had not
-sacrificed the last word upon the domestic altar. True it was always
-whispered inly, under her breath; but it was hers nevertheless; and
-she exulted in it. When a woman cannot get what she wants by hook, she
-gets it by crook, depend upon it. For twenty years had the Marvels
-lived together man and wife; and during all that time Mr. Marvel had
-never known, that in every family conversation and discussion his wife
-had invariably obtained the victory of the last word; although
-sometimes a half-triumphant look in her eyes had caused him to doubt.
-
-So, upon this occasion, notwithstanding the decided tone in which her
-husband had closed the conversation, Mrs. Marvel bent her head over
-her worsted stocking, and whispered to herself, half tearfully and
-half triumphantly,--
-
-"But if Josh _does_ get shipwrecked, father, don't forget that I
-warned you beforehand."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI.
-THE ACTOR AND HIS DAUGHTER.
-
-
-THAT night, as Joshua was lying half-awake and half-asleep, his mind
-being filled with pleasant sea-pictures, he was surprised to hear his
-bedroom-door creak. Without moving in his bed, he turned his eyes
-towards the door, and, in the indistinct light, he saw his mother
-enter the room. She opened the door very softly, as if fearful of
-disturbing him, and she paused for a moment or two in the open space,
-with her hand raised in a listening attitude. Joshua saw that she
-believed him to be asleep, and he closed his eyes as she approached
-the bed. Her movements were so quiet, that he did not know she was
-close to him, until she gently took his hand and placed it to her
-lips. Then he knew that she was kneeling by his bedside, and knew
-also, by a moisture on his hand, that she was crying. His heart
-yearned to her, but he did not move. He heard her whisper, "God
-protect you, my son!" Then his hand, wet with his mother's tears, was
-released, and when he re-opened his eyes, she was gone.
-
-"Poor mother!" he thought. "She is unhappy because I am going to sea.
-I will ask the Old Sailor to come and tell her what a glorious thing
-the sea is. Perhaps that will make her more comfortable in her mind."
-
-He acted upon his resolution the very next day, and his efforts were
-successful. In the evening, he wended his way homewards from the
-waterside, in a state of ineffable satisfaction because the Old Sailor
-had promised to come to Stepney, for the express purpose of proving to
-Mrs. Marvel how superior in every respect the sea was to the land, and
-what a wise thing Joshua had done in making up his mind to be a
-sailor.
-
-The lad was in an idle happy humor as he walked down a narrow street,
-at no great distance from his home. It differed in no respect from the
-other common streets in the common neighborhood. All its
-characteristics were familiar to him. The sad-looking one-story brick
-houses; the slatternly girls nursing babies, whose name was legion;
-the troops of children of various ages and in various stages of
-dirtiness, one of their most distinguishing insignia being the yawning
-condition of their boots, there not being a sound boot-lace among the
-lot of them; and here and there the melancholy and desponding shops
-where sweet stuff and cheap provisions were sold. Joshua walked down
-this poor woe-begone street, making it bright with his bright fancies,
-when his attention was suddenly aroused by the occurrence of something
-unusual near the bottom of the street.
-
-A large crowd of boys and girls and women was gathered around a
-person, who was gesticulating and declaiming with startling
-earnestness. Pushing his way through the throng, Joshua saw before him
-a tall, spare man, with light hair hanging down to his shoulders. So
-long and waving was his hair, that it might have belonged to a woman.
-His gaunt and furrowed face was as smooth as a woman's, and his mouth
-was large, as were also his teeth, which were peculiarly white and
-strong. But what most arrested attention were his eyes; they were of a
-light-gray color, large even for his large face, and they had a
-wandering look in them strangely at variance with the sense of power
-and firmness that dwelt in every other feature. He was acting the
-Ghost scenes in "Hamlet;" in his hand was a wooden sword, which he
-sheathed in his ragged coat, and drew and flourished when occasion
-needed. His fine voice, now deep as a man's, now tender as a woman's,
-expressed all the passions, and expressed them well. In the library
-which Dan and Joshua possessed there was an odd volume of Shakspeare's
-works, and when the street-actor said, in a melancholy dreamy tone,--
-
-
- "It waves me still:--go on, I'll follow thee,"
-
-
-Joshua remembered (as much from the intelligent action of the actor as
-from the words themselves) that it was a Ghost whom Hamlet was
-addressing. The words were so impressively spoken, that Joshua almost
-fancied he saw a Shade before the man's uplifted hand. Then, when
-Hamlet cried,--
-
-
- "My fate cries out,
- And makes each petty artery in this body
- As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.
- Still am I called. Unhand me, gentlemen!"
-
-
-(struggling with his visionary opponents and breaking from them, and
-drawing his wooden sword)
-
-
- "By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me!
- I say, away! Go on, I'll follow thee;"
-
-
-Joshua experienced a thrill of emotion that only the representation of
-true passion could have excited. As the man uttered the last words,
-Joshua heard a shuddering sigh close to him. Turning his head, he saw
-Susan, whose face was a perfect encyclopædia of wondering and
-terrified admiration.
-
-"Who is he following, Joshua?" she asked in a whisper, clutching him
-by the sleeve.
-
-"The Ghost! Hush!"
-
-"The Ghost!" (with a violent shudder.) "Where?"
-
-Joshua pressed her hand, and warned her to be silent, so as not to
-disturb the man. Susan held his hand tightly in hers, and obeyed.
-
-The Ghost that the actor saw in his mind's eye was standing behind
-Susan. The man advanced a step in that direction, and stood with
-outstretched sword, gazing at the airy nothing. Susan trembled in
-every limb as the man glared over her shoulder, and she was frightened
-to move her head, lest she should see the awful vision whose presence
-was palpable to her senses. The man had commenced the platform-scene,
-where Hamlet says, "Speak; I'll go no further;" and the Ghost says,
-"Mark me!" when a tumult took place. At the words, "Mark me!" a
-vicious boy picked up a piece of mud, and threw it at the man's face,
-with the words, "Now you're marked;" at which several of the boys and
-girls laughed and clapped their hands. The actor made no answer, but,
-seizing the boy by the shoulder held him fast and proceeded with the
-scene. The boy tried to wriggle himself away, but at every fresh
-attempt the man's grasp tightened, until, thoroughly desperate, the
-boy broke into open rebellion.
-
-
-_Actor_. Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand
-Of life, of crown, of queen, at once despatched.
-
-_Boy_ (_struggling violently_). Just you let me go, will you?
-
-_Actor_. Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
-Unhousel'd, disappointed, unaneal'd.
-
-_Boy_ (_beginning to cry_). Come now, let me go will you? You're a
-hurting of me! Let me go you--(_bad words_).
-
-_Actor_ (_calm and indifferent_). No reckoning made, but sent to my
- account
-With all my imperfections on my head.
-
-_A girl's voice_. Pinch him, Billy!
-
-_A boy's voice_. Kick him, Billy!
-
-Billy did both, but the actor continued.
-
-_Actor_. Oh, horrible! Oh, horrible! Most horrible!
-
-_Billy_. Throw a stone at him, some one!
-
-_Actor_ (_sublimely unconscious_). If thou hast nature in thee, bear
-it not.
-
-A stone was thrown; and as if this were a signal for a general attack,
-a shower of stones was hurled at the actor. One of them hit him on the
-forehead; hit him so badly that he staggered, and, releasing his hold
-of Billy, raised his hand to his head, while an expression of pain
-passed into his face. Hooting and yelling, "Look at the mad actor!"
-"Hoo, hoo! look at the crazy fool!"--the crowd of boys and girls
-scampered away, and left the man standing in the road, with only Susan
-and Joshua for an audience. Joshua was hot with indignation, and
-Susan, spell-bound by awe and fear, stood motionless by Joshua's side,
-while large tears trickled from her eyes into her open mouth.
-
-The blood was oozing from the wound in the man's forehead, and his
-long fair hair was crimson-stained. His eyes wandered around
-distressfully, and a sighing moan died upon his lips. The fire of
-enthusiasm had fled from his countenance, and in the place of the
-inspired actor, Joshua saw a man whose face was of a deathly hue, and
-from whose eyes the light seemed to have departed. With his hand
-pressed to his forehead, he staggered a dozen yards, and then leaned
-against the wall for support.
-
-"He is badly hurt, I am afraid," said Joshua.
-
-Susan walked swiftly up to the man.
-
-"Shall we assist you home?" she said. "Home!" he muttered. "No, no!
-Money! want money!"
-
-As he spoke he drooped, and would have fallen to the ground but for
-Joshua, who caught the man on his shoulder, and let him glide gently
-on to a doorstep. Susan wiped the blood from his face with her apron.
-He looked at her vacantly, closed his eyes, and fainted.
-
-"He is dying, Joshua!" cried Susan, her trembling fingers wandering
-about the man's face. "Oh, the wicked boys! Oh, the wicked boys!"
-
-A woman here came out of a house with a cup of cold water, which she
-sprinkled upon his face. Presently the man sighed, and struggled to
-his feet, murmuring, "Yes, yes; I must go home."
-
-"Where do you live?" asked Joshua. "We will assist you."
-
-He did not answer, but walked slowly on like one in a dream. Assisting
-but not guiding his steps, Joshua and Susan walked on either side of
-him, and supported him. Although he scarcely seemed to be awake, he
-knew his way, and turning down a street even commoner than its
-fellows, he stopped at the entrance to a miserable court. Waving his
-hand as if dismissing them, he walked a few steps down the court, and
-entered a house, the door of which was open. Impelled partly by
-curiosity, but chiefly by compassion, Joshua and Susan followed the
-man into a dark passage, and up a rheumatic flight of stairs, into a
-room where want and wretchedness made grim holiday.
-
-"Minnie!" he muttered hoarsely, and all his strength seemed to desert
-him as he spoke--"Minnie, child! where are you?"
-
-He sank upon the ground with a wild shudder, and lay as if death had
-overtaken him. At the same moment there issued from the corner of the
-room where the deepest shadows gathered, a child-girl, so marvellously
-like him, with her fair waving hair, her large beautifully-shaped
-mouth, her white teeth, and her great restless gray eyes, that Joshua
-knew at once that they were father and daughter.
-
-Minnie crept to the man, and sat beside him. She spoke to him, but he
-did not reply. And then she looked at Joshua and Susan, whose forms
-were dimly discernible in the gathering gloom.
-
-"What is the matter with father?" she asked of them in a faint moaning
-voice.
-
-"Some bad boys threw a stone at him, and hit him on the forehead,"
-Joshua answered. "He will be better presently, I hope."
-
-Minnie did not heed what he said, but felt eagerly in her father's
-pockets, and, not finding what she searched for, began to cry.
-
-"No, no," she said, beating her hands together; "it is not that. He is
-weak and ill because he has had nothing to eat. I thought he would
-have brought home enough to buy some bread, but he hasn't a penny."
-
-Joshua remembered the man's words, "Money! I want money!" and he
-immediately realized that the poor creatures were in want.
-
-"Are you hungry, Minnie?" he asked.
-
-"I have not had any breakfast," she answered wearily. "No more has
-father. Nor any dinner. We had some bread last night. We ate it all
-up. Father went out to-day, hoping to earn a little money, and he has
-come home without any. We shall die, I suppose. But I should like
-something to eat first."
-
-"How do you know he has had nothing to eat?" asked Joshua; the words
-almost choked him.
-
-Minnie looked up with a plaintive smile.
-
-"If he had had only a hard piece of bread given him," she said in a
-tender voice, "he would have put it into his pocket for me."
-
-"Stop here, Susan," said Joshua, a great sob rising in his throat. "I
-will be back in ten minutes."
-
-He ran out of the room and out of the house. Never in his life had he
-run so fast as he ran now. He rushed into Dan's room, and said, almost
-breathlessly,--
-
-"Where is the money-box, Dan? How much is there in it?"
-
-"Fourteen pence," said the faithful treasurer, producing the box.
-"What a heat you are in, Jo!"
-
-"Never mind that. I want every farthing of the money, Dan. Don't ask
-me any questions. I will tell you all by and by."
-
-Dan emptied the money-box upon the table, and Joshua seized the money,
-and tore out of the house as if for dear life. Soon he was in the
-actor's room again, with bread and tea. Susan had not been idle during
-his absence. She had bathed the man's wound, and had wiped the blood
-and mud from his face and hair. He had recovered from his swoon, and
-was looking at her gratefully.
-
-Joshua placed the bread before him, and he broke a piece from the loaf
-and gave it to Minnie, who ate it greedily.
-
-"So fair and foul a day I have not seen,'" the man muttered; and both
-Joshua and Susan thought, "How strangely yet how beautifully he
-speaks!"
-
-Susan made the tea down stairs, and she and Joshua sat quietly by,
-while the man and his daughter ate like starved wolves. It was a
-bitterly-painful sight to see.
-
-"I think we had better go now, Susan," whispered Joshua.
-
-They would have left the room without a word; but the man said,--
-
-"What is your name, and what are you?"
-
-"My name is Joshua Marvel, and I'm going to be a sailor."
-
-"'There's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft,'" said the actor,
-"'to keep watch for the life of poor Jack.'"
-
-"That's what Praiseworthy Meddler says," said Joshua, laughing. "I
-shall come and see you again, if you will let me."
-
-"Come and welcome."
-
-"Goodnight, sir."
-
-"Goodnight, and God bless you, Joshua Marvel!"
-
-Minnie went to the door with Joshua and Susan, and looking at Joshua,
-with the tears in her strangely-beautiful eyes, said,
-
-"Goodnight, and God bless you, Joshua Marvel!"
-
-She raised herself on tiptoe, and Joshua stooped and kissed her. After
-that, Susan gave her a hug, and she returned to her father, and lay
-down beside him.
-
-When he arrived home, Joshua told Dan of the adventure, and how he had
-spent the fourteen pence. Dan nodded his head approvingly.
-
-"You did right," he said,--"you always do. I should have done just the
-same."
-
-Then they took the odd volume of Shakspeare from the shelf, and read
-the Ghost scenes in "Hamlet" before they said goodnight.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII.
-EXPLAINS WHY PRAISEWORTHY MEDDLER REMAINED A BACHELOR.
-
-
-Here is Praiseworthy Meddler, sitting in the best chair in a corner of
-the fireplace in the little kitchen in Stepney. In his low shoes and
-loose trousers, and blue shirt open at the throat, he looks every inch
-a sailor; and his great red pock-marked face is in keeping with his
-calling. On the other side of the fireplace, facing Praiseworthy
-Meddler, is Mr. George Marvel; next to Praiseworthy Meddler is Mrs.
-Marvel; on a stool at her father's feet sits Sarah; and Joshua sits at
-the table, watching every shade of expression that passes over his
-mother's face. The subject-matter of the conversation is the sea; and
-Praiseworthy Meddler has been "holding forth," as is evidenced by his
-drawing from the bosom of his shirt a blue-cotton pocket-handkerchief,
-upon which is imprinted a ship of twelve hundred tons burden, A 1 at
-Lloyd's for an indefinite number of years. The ship is in full sail,
-and all its canvas is set to a favorable breeze. Upon this blue vessel
-Praiseworthy Meddler dabs his red face in a manner curiously
-suggestive of his face being a deck, and the handkerchief a mop. When
-he has mopped his deck, which appears to be a perpetually-perspiring
-one, he spreads his handkerchief over his knee to dry, and says, as
-being an appropriate tag to what has gone before,--
-
-"There is no place on earth like the sea."
-
-The Old Sailor was not aware that any thing of a paradoxical nature
-was involved in the statement, or he might not have repeated it.
-
-"There is no place on earth like the sea. Show me the man who says
-there is, and I'll despise him; if I don't, I'm a Dutchman;" adding,
-to strengthen his declaration, "or a double Dutchman."
-
-The man not being forthcoming--probably he was not in the
-neighborhood, or, being there, did not wish to be openly
-despised--Praiseworthy Meddler looked around with the air of one who
-has the best of the argument, and then produced a piece of pigtail
-from a mysterious recess and bit into it as if he were a savage boar
-biting into the heart of a foe.
-
-"But the danger, Mr. Meddler," suggested Mrs. Marvel, in a trembling
-voice.
-
-"There is more danger upon land, lady."
-
-"There, mother," said Mr. Marvel; "didn't I tell you so, the other
-night?"
-
-"You told her right," said Praiseworthy, with emphasis. "Danger on the
-sea, lady! What is it to danger on the land? A ship can ride over a
-wave, let it be ever so high; but a man can't step over a wagon.
-Are carts and drays and horses safe? Are gas-pipes safe? And if
-there is danger on the sea, lady--which I don't deny, mind you,
-altogether--what does it do? Why, it makes a man of a boy, and it
-makes a man more of a man."
-
-"Hear, _hear_, HEAR!" exclaimed Mr. Marvel, rapping on the table.
-
-"Look at me!" said the enthusiastic sailor. "Here am I--I don't know
-how many years old, and that's a fact--I've lived on the sea from when
-I was a boy; and I've been blown by rough winds, and I've been blinded
-by storms and I've been wrecked on rocky coasts, and I've been as near
-death, ay, a score of times, as most men have been. Lord love you, my
-dear! All we've got to do is to do our duty; and when we're called
-aloft, we can say, 'Ay, ay, sir!' with a brave heart. What better life
-than a life on sea is there for boy or man? And doesn't Saturday night
-come round?
-
-
- "'For all the world's just like the ropes aboard a ship,
- Each man's rigged out,
- A vessel stout,
- To take for life a trip.
- The shrouds, the stays, the braces,
- Are joys, and hopes, and fears;
- The halliards, sheets, and traces,
- Still as each passion veers,
- And whim prevails,
- Direct the sails.
- As on the sea of life he steers.
- Then let the storm
- Heaven's face deform,
- And danger press;
- Of these in spite, there are some joys
- Us jolly tars to bless;
- For Saturday night still comes, my boys,
- To drink to Poll and Bess.'"
-
-
-Praiseworthy Meddler roared out the song at the top of his voice, as
-if it were the most natural and appropriate thing for him to do just
-there and then. The effect of his sudden inspiration was, that every
-member of the Marvel family, without being previously acquainted with
-the young ladies referred to, repeated in their honor the refrain of
-the last two lines,--
-
-
- "For Saturday night still comes, my boys,
- To drink to Poll and Bess,"
-
-
-with such extraordinary enthusiasm, that the carroty-haired cat rose
-to her feet in alarm, debating within herself the possibility of the
-Marvel family having suddenly caught a contagious madness from the Old
-Sailor. Convinced that the matter required looking into, puss walked
-softly to the door, with the intention of arousing the neighbors; but,
-silence ensuing at the conclusion of the refrain, she became
-reassured, and stole back to her warm space on the floor, and curled
-herself up again, and blinked at the fire.
-
-After this exertion, Praiseworthy Meddler took the twelve-hundred-ton
-ship off his knee, and dabbed his face with it energetically.
-
-"What does it amount to," he continued, "if the heart's brave? What
-does it amount to when it is all over, and when one gets to be as old
-as I am? I'm tough and firm;" and he gave his leg a great slap. "I'm
-as young as a younger man; and I know that there's no place on earth
-like the sea."
-
-"And you can get promotion, can't you?" asked Joshua, eagerly. "A man
-needn't be a common sailor all his life?"
-
-"No, Josh; he needn't stick at that, if he's willing and able, and
-does his duty. I know many a skipper who once on a time was only an
-able-bodied seaman."
-
-"Do you hear that, mother?" cried Joshua. "Now are you satisfied?" and
-he jumped up and gave her a kiss.
-
-"What is a skipper, Mr. Meddler?" asked Mrs. Marvel, with her arm
-round Joshua's waist. She had a dim notion that a skipper was
-connected with a skipping-rope, and that she might have been a skipper
-in her girlhood's days. If that were the case, she could not see what
-advantage it would be to Joshua to become one.
-
-"A skipper's a captain, mother," whispered Joshua.
-
-"Oh!" said Mrs. Marvel, but not quite clear in her mind on the point.
-"Then, if I might be so bold, Mr. Meddler"--
-
-But here Mrs. Marvel stopped suddenly, and blushed like a girl.
-
-"Ay, ay, lady, go on," said the Old Sailor, encouragingly.
-
-"If I might make so bold," continued Mrs. Marvel, with an effort, "how
-is it that you never rose to be a skipper?"
-
-"O mother!" cried Joshua.
-
-"The question is a sensible one, Joshua," said Praiseworthy Meddler
-slowly, "and a right one too; though, if all able-bodied seamen rose
-to be skippers, there wouldn't be ships enough in the world for them.
-I should have been promoted, I have no doubt; but I was born with
-something unfortunate, which has stuck to me all my life, and which I
-have never been able to get rid of."
-
-"Is it any thing painful?" asked Mrs. Marvel with womanly solicitude.
-
-Praiseworthy Meddler looked at her with a droll expression on his
-face, and folded his twelve-hundred-ton ship into very small squares,
-and laid it in the palm of his left hand, and flattened it with the
-palm of his right, before he spoke again.
-
-"It wasn't my fault, it was my misfortune. I couldn't help my father's
-name being Meddler, and I couldn't help being a Meddler myself, being
-his son, you see. My father didn't like his name any more than I did,
-but he didn't know how to change it; he was born a Meddler, and he
-died a Meddler. My being a Meddler is the only reason, I do believe,
-why I am not a skipper this present day of our Lord; and I don't think
-I am sorry that, when I die, I sha'n't leave any Meddlers behind me."
-
-"You have never been married, Mr. Meddler?"
-
-"No, lady; but I was very near it once, as you shall hear. It was all
-because of my name that I wasn't. My father didn't like his name, as I
-have told you. His Christian name was Andrew; he was a saddler. He got
-along well enough to set up shop for himself, and one morning he took
-the shutters down for the first time, and commenced business. Over his
-window was the sign, 'A. Meddler, saddler.' There was a rival saddler
-in the same town, whose name was Straight, and who didn't like my
-father setting up in opposition to him; and he put in his window a
-bill, with this on it: 'Have your saddles made and repaired by a
-Straightforward man, and not by A. Meddler.' That ruined my father:
-people laughed at him, instead of dealing with him; he soon had to
-shut up shop, and go to work again as a journeyman. He had two
-children; the first was a girl, the next was me. I heard that he was
-very pleased when my sister was born, because she was a girl. 'She can
-marry when she grows up,' he said, 'and then she will have her
-husband's name.' When I was born, my father wasn't pleased: he didn't
-want any more Meddlers, he said. But he couldn't help it; no more
-could I. He did what he thought was the very best thing for me--he
-gave me a fine Christian name to balance my surname he had me
-christened Praiseworthy. Now that made it worse. If I was laughed at
-for being a Meddler, I was laughed at more for being a Praiseworthy
-Meddler. Once, when I was a young fellow, I did good service in a ship
-I was serving in. When we came into port, the skipper reported well of
-me, and the owners sent for me. I went to the office, thinking that I
-should be promoted for my good services. The firm owned at least a
-dozen merchant-ships; and I should have been promoted, if it hadn't
-been for my name. The owners spoke kindly to me; and after I had
-satisfied them that I was fit for promotion, the youngest partner
-asked my name. I told him Meddler. He smiled, and the other partners
-smiled. 'What other name?' he asked. 'Praiseworthy,' I answered;
-'Praiseworthy Meddler.' He laughed at that, and said that I was the
-only Praiseworthy Meddler he had ever met. They seemed so tickled at
-it, that the serious part of the affair slipped clean out of their
-heads; they called me an honest fellow, and said that they would not
-forget me. They didn't forget me; they gave me five pounds over and
-above my pay. If it hadn't been for my name, they might have appointed
-me mate of one of their ships. I was so mad with thinking about it,
-that I began to hate myself because I was a Meddler. If the name had
-been something I could have got hold of, I would have strangled it. At
-last I made up my mind that I would get spliced, and that I would take
-my lass's name the day I was married. Being on leave, and stopping at
-my father's house, I told him what I had made up my mind to do. He was
-a melancholy man--it was his name that made him so, I do believe--and
-he told me, in his melancholy voice, that it was the best thing I
-could do, and that he wished he had thought of doing so before he
-married. 'Wipe it out, my boy,' he said, 'wipe out the unlucky name;
-sweep all the Meddlers out of the world. It would have been better you
-had been born with a hump than been born a Meddler.' He talked a
-little wild sometimes, but we were used to it. I began to look about
-me; and one day I caught sight of a lass who took my fancy. My leave
-was nearly expired, and I had to join my ship in a few days. I wanted
-to learn all about the girl, and I was too bashful to do it myself,
-which is not the usual way of sailors, my dear. So I pointed out the
-lass to a shipmate, and told him I had taken a fancy to her, and would
-he get me all the information he could about her. That very night, as
-I was bolting the street-door, just before going to bed, I heard my
-shipmate's voice outside in the street. 'Is that you, Meddler?' he
-asked. 'Yes, Jack,' I answered. 'I thought I'd come to tell you at
-once,' he cried; 'I've found out all about her. Her father's dead, and
-her mother's married again, and the lass isn't happy at home.' 'That
-makes it all the better for me,' I said. 'Has she got a sweetheart?'
-'None that she cares a button for, or that a sailor couldn't cut out,'
-he answered. 'Hurrah!' I cried; 'I will go and see her to-morrow.
-Thank you, Jack; goodnight.' 'Goodnight,' he said, and I heard him
-walking, away. Just then I remembered that I had forgotten the most
-important thing of all--her name. I unbolted the door, and called
-after him, 'What is her name, Jack?' 'Mary Gotobed!' he cried from a
-distance. 'Mary what?' I shouted. 'Gotobed!' he cried again. I bolted
-the door, and went."
-
-Praiseworthy Meddler, pausing to take breath, cast another droll look
-upon his attentive auditors.
-
-"Gotobed!" he then resumed. "Why, it was worse than Meddler! I
-couldn't marry a lass named Gotobed, and take her name; I didn't want
-to marry and keep my own name; I couldn't put them together and make
-one sensible name out of the two. Gotobed Meddler was as bad as
-Meddler Gotobed. And the worst of it all was, that I liked the lass.
-She was as pretty a lass as ever I set eyes on. She looked prettier
-than ever when I saw her the next day; and forgetting all about the
-names I spoke to her and lost myself."
-
-"Lost yourself!" exclaimed Mrs. Marvel.
-
-"Yes, my dear," said the Old Sailor, with a bashfulness that did not
-set ill upon him. "I fell in love."
-
-He said this in a confidential hoarse whisper to Mrs. Marvel, as if
-the youngsters ought not to hear it.
-
-"Oh, that!" said Mrs. Marvel with a smile.
-
-"But directly she heard what my name was," continued the Old Sailor,
-"she burst out laughing, and ran away. I had to go to my ship soon
-after that; and when I came back again, she was married to some one
-else. So I gave up the idea of marrying; and the name I was born to
-has stuck to me all my life. And that is the reason why I never
-married, and why I never became a skipper."
-
-They made merry over the Old Sailor's story, and over other stories
-that he told of the sea, and of the chances it afforded a youngster
-like Joshua of getting on in the world. And towards the close of the
-evening Mrs. Marvel fairly gave in, and promised that she would not
-say another word against Joshua's determination to be a sailor. In
-token of which submission a large jug of grog was compounded,
-in honor of the Old Sailor; and when that was drunk, another was
-compounded in honor of Joshua. Of both of which Praiseworthy Meddler
-drank so freely, that he staggered home to his barge in a state of
-semi-inebriation, singing snatches of sea-songs without intermission,
-until he tumbled into his hammock and fell asleep.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII.
-A HAPPY HOLIDAY.
-
-
-In after years, when Joshua was many thousands of miles away from
-Stepney, Dan loved to linger over the memory of one especially happy
-day which he, and Joshua, and Ellen and the Old Sailor spent together.
-Upon that day the sun was rising now; and Dan, lying in bed, was
-waiting impatiently for the solemn and merry church-bells to strike
-the hour of seven. His Sunday clothes were smoothly laid out upon a
-chair, close to his bed. Had the day not been an eventful one, he
-would not have been allowed to wear his best suit in the middle of the
-week. When Joshua makes his appearance in Dan's bedroom, it will be
-seen that he will also be dressed in his best clothes. The secret of
-all this is, that the lads had received permission from their parents
-to spend the day with the Old Sailor at the waterside, and were to be
-taken in a cart to the Old Sailor's castle--the barge near the Tower
-Stairs. Twenty times at the least had Dan said to Joshua, "I should so
-like to see the Old Sailor, Jo!" And Joshua, in the most artful
-manner, had fished for the invitation, which would have been very
-readily given had the Old Sailor been aware of Joshua's desire. But
-Joshua, like a great many other diplomatists who think themselves wise
-in their generation, went to work in a subtle roundabout way, and so
-gave himself a vast deal of trouble, which would have been saved had
-he come straight to the point at once. At length, one day, when the
-Old Sailor had said, "And how is Dan, Josh?" and Joshua had answered
-that he thought Dan was beginning to grow strong, he ventured to add,
-with inward fear and trembling: "And he would so much like to see you,
-sir, and hear some of your sea-stories! When I tell them they don't
-sound the same as when you tell them. There's no salt in them." Artful
-Joshua! "Well, my lad," the Old Sailor had said with a chuckle (he was
-not insensible to flattery, the old dog!), "why not bring him here to
-spend the day?"
-
-"When shall it be, sir?" asked Joshua secretly delighted.
-
-"Next Wednesday, Josh," said the Old Sailor. So next Wednesday it was.
-And Joshua ran to Dan's house wild with delight, and coaxed Dan's
-parents in to giving their permission.
-
-It was on this very Wednesday morning that Dan was lying awake,
-waiting for seven o'clock to strike. He awoke at least two hours
-before the proper time to rise; and those hours appeared to him to be
-longer than hours ever were before. The ride itself would be an event
-in Dan's life; but it was not to be compared with what was to come
-afterwards--the spending of a whole day and night in a house on the
-water. During the past week Dan had been in a fever of pleasurable
-anticipation, and in a fever of fright also, lest it should rain upon
-this particular day. The previous night it _had_ rained; and Dan,
-lying awake for a longer time than usual, had prayed for the rain to
-go away. Ellen--standing at the window in his bedroom, after she had
-got out his clean shirt and Sunday clothes, and brushed and smoothed
-them, and taken up a stitch in them here and there, as women (and
-girls after them) say--had seen the spots of rain falling, and,
-joining her prayer to his, had begged very earnestly to the rain to go
-away and come again another day.
-
-And now the day was dawning; and Dan, opening his eyes, clapped his
-hands in delight to see the sun shining so brightly upon the broken
-jug which stood upon the window-sill, and in which was a handful of
-the sweet-smelling humble wall-flower. The pair of bullfinches which
-Joshua had bought for the Old Sailor were busily at work in their
-cage, which was hanging at the window, and were as conscious of the
-beauty of the morning as the most sensible human being could possibly
-be. Dan was so delighted that he whistled "Rule, Britannia! Britannia
-rules the waves!" And one of the bullfinches, after abstracting the
-last hemp-seed from the glass containing their morning meal,
-immediately piped out with fervid patriotism, "For Britons never,
-_never_, NE-_ver_ shall be slaves!" From this episode the reader will
-learn that the education of the bullfinches was completed. "Rule,
-Britannia," was not their sole vocal accomplishment. They could
-whistle "And did you not hear of a jolly young waterman?" in a very
-superior manner. On that day the bullfinches were to be presented to
-their new master--to whom not a hint had been given of the pleasant
-surprise in store for him; which made it all the more delightful.
-
-While the patriotic bullfinch was asserting in the most
-melodiously-persuasive notes that "Britons never, _never_, NE-_ver_
-shall be slaves," its mate was engaged drawing up water in the tiniest
-little bucket in the world--another of the accomplishments (coming,
-presumably, under the head of "extras")which patient Dan had taught
-the birds in order to win the heart of the Old Sailor. The industrious
-bullfinch had a remarkably rakish eye, which flashed saucily and
-impatiently as the music fell upon its ears. The slender rope which
-held the bucket being in its beak, it could not join in the harmony;
-but directly the bucket was hauled up and secured, it whetted its
-whistle, and piped out in opposition,--
-
-
- "And did you not hear of a jolly young waterman,
- Who at Blackfriars-bridge used for to ply?
- He feathered his oars with such skill and dexterity,
- Winning each heart and delighting each eye;"
-
-
-repeating, as was its wont, the last line, "Winning each heart and
-delighting each eye," so as to produce a greater effect. I do not
-assert that the bullfinch actually uttered the words, but I _do_
-assert positively that it sang the music of them with the most
-beautiful trills that mortal ever heard.
-
-But there was the solemn church-bell striking seven o'clock in tones
-less solemn than usual, and there was the joyous church-bell following
-suit. And as if the sound had conjured him up, there was Joshua,
-dressed in his best, and looking so fresh and handsome with his
-holiday-face on, that Dan might well be proud of him. He had his
-accordion under his arm, and in one hand was a bunch of flowers which
-Dan was to give to the Old Sailor, and in the other a glass containing
-some rape-seed soaked in canary-wine for the birds. They knew as well
-as possible--knowing little bullfinches!--that Joshua had something
-nice for them; and as he approached the cage they came as close to him
-as they could, and, to show their appreciation of his kindness,
-greeted him with a gush of the sweetest melody. What better beginning
-could there be for a happy holiday!
-
-When Dan was dressed the lads went into the kitchen to have breakfast.
-And there was Ellen, as fresh as a daisy. The breakfast things were
-laid; and there was a clean cloth (not damask, mind!) on the deal
-table, and there, absolutely, were two new-laid eggs, one for Joshua
-and one for Dan, which Ellen had bought and paid for with her own
-money the day before, without saying a word about it. Ellen stooped
-and kissed Dan, and as she raised her head Joshua looked at her, and
-felt a huge longing to take her face between his two hands and kiss
-her, as he used to do in the time when they played sweethearts
-together. But he hadn't the courage. Yet he could not help looking at
-Ellen again and thinking, What a pretty girl Ellen is! and then,
-seeing Ellen's eyes fixed upon his, he turned away his head and
-blushed. And Ellen smiled at that, and, if she had been asked, really
-could not have told the reason why. Surely never was such a happy
-commencement to a holiday, and never was such a happy couple as Dan
-and Joshua! After all, are not simple pleasures the best? Are not
-those the sweetest pleasures that cost the least?
-
-What put it into Joshua's head? Was it the sentiment of perfect
-happiness that actuated the wish? Or was it a passing shadow, lighter
-than the lightest cloud, that passed over Ellen's face, as the lads
-were talking of the coming delights of the day? It was there but a
-moment, but Joshua saw it, or thought he did, and thought also that
-there was regret in it. Or was it Ellen's pretty face, or the little
-piece of blue ribbon that she had put round her neck, the puss? For
-Ellen was fair, and knew what colors best suited her complexion.
-Whatever it was that actuated it, there was Joshua saying, just as
-they had sat down to breakfast and Ellen was pouring out the
-milk-and-water--you may imagine that there was not a great deal of tea
-drank in Stepney--there was Joshua saying,--
-
-"Ellen, I wish you were coming with us."
-
-Ellen's hand shook so that she spilt some of the milk-and-water, and a
-spasm rose in her throat, for she had wished the same thing fervently,
-but had never spoken of it. She checked the spasm, hoping that her
-emotion would not be noticed, and answered not a word. But she looked.
-Such a look!
-
-Dan was biting into a slice of bread-and-butter, but directly he heard
-Joshua's wish, and saw the yearning, look that sprang into Ellen's
-eyes, he ceased eating, and leaned his head upon his hand.
-
-"I think I am very selfish," he said, and hot tears gushed into his
-eyes.
-
-In an instant Ellen was by his side, and Ellen's face was close to
-his. Any one who saw that action, any one who could understand the
-quick sympathy that caused her to put her face so close to Dan's, to
-show that she knew what he was reproaching himself for, might have
-been able to comprehend the depth of unselfish tenderness that dwelt
-in the soul of that little maid. Ah! it was only in a kitchen, but how
-beautiful it was to see!
-
-"Don't bother about me, my dear," she said almost in a whisper. "If
-you are happy, I am happy." And then she added, pretending to be
-comically indignant, "You stupid Dan! I've a good mind to rumple your
-hair! You selfish, indeed!"
-
-"I am selfish!" exclaimed Dan, looking up and thinking--just as Joshua
-had thought--that he had never seen her look so pretty. "I _am_
-selfish, Joshua!" he cried, so energetically that Joshua was quite
-startled. "What would the Old Sailor say?"
-
-"But, Dan"--said Ellen.
-
-"Seriously, Jo" said Dan, putting his hand over Ellen's mouth, "what
-_would_ the Old Sailor say?"
-
-"The Old Sailor would be delighted."
-
-"Now, look here," said Dan, with a determination almost comical in its
-intensity when one considered what inspired it; as if it were a
-question of tremendous national consequence, or something in which
-mighty interests were involved; "are you sure?"
-
-"I am sure he would be delighted, Dan," replied Joshua without the
-slightest hesitation.
-
-"It's of no use, Dan and Josh dear," said Ellen, shaking her head.
-"You musn't think of it. I can't go. Mother wouldn't be able to spare
-me. Why, don't you know"--
-
-"Don't I know what, Ellen?" asked Dan.
-
-"Don't you know that it's washing-day?" said Ellen with a sharp nod,
-as if that settled the question.
-
-Dan's head was still resting upon his hand. He pondered for a few
-moments, and then raising his head, said, "Good little Ellen;" and
-kissed her. "Now let us have breakfast."
-
-Breakfast being over, Dan said he wanted to see Susan.
-
-"Tell her I want to speak to her most particularly," he said to Ellen.
-"And, Ellen! when Susan comes, you go out of the room, and Joshua as
-well. I want to speak to her quite privately."
-
-Ellen and Joshua left Susan with Dan, and went into the passage; which
-gave Joshua opportunity to ask Ellen if she remembered when he used to
-be pushed into the coal-cellar. Yes, Ellen remembered it very well
-indeed; and they both laughed over the reminiscence.
-
-"How black your face used to be!" exclaimed Ellen.
-
-"And yours too, Ellen!" retorted Joshua saucily.
-
-Whereat Ellen blushed, and did not reply.
-
-What passed between Susan and Dan was never divulged. It was nothing
-very dreadful, you may be sure; for when Dan called to Joshua and
-Ellen to come in, they found him smiling. Susan was gone, but
-presently she entered again with a radiant face and nodded to Dan, who
-nodded to Susan in return, and said gayly,--
-
-"Thank you, Susey!"
-
-When Susan went into the passage, she wiped her eyes, and did not once
-look round to see if any thing was behind her. That day, over the
-washing-tub, Susan was happier than she had been for a long time.
-
-Then Dan rubbed his hands, and said, "I really think this is going to
-be the happiest day of my life."
-
-The happiest day of my life! How often, and with what various
-meanings, are those words uttered! At dinner-parties when the invited
-guest rises to respond to the toast of his health, and commences by
-saying in tones which falter from emotion, "This is the happiest day
-of my life!" At wedding-feasts, if healths are being proposed, when
-the bridegroom, the bridegroom's father, and the bride's father, each
-in his turn declares, "This is the happiest day of my life!" At the
-presentation of testimonials, whether to humbug, worthy man, or fool,
-it is "The happiest day of my life!" with one and all of them. With
-copious use of pocket-handkerchief, and with face more suitable for a
-funeral than for a joyful occasion. But a fig for moralizing on such a
-day as this!
-
-Dam's countenance was suffused with a flush of genuine delight, as he
-repeated,--
-
-"Yes, Ellen, this is going to be the happiest day of my life."
-
-She gave him a questioning, imploring look, which asked the reason why
-as plainly as any words could put the question.
-
-"Come here, and I'll whisper," said Dan.
-
-Ellen put her ear close to his mouth, but Dan, instead of whispering,
-blew into her ear, which caused her to start away with a pleasant
-shiver, and to cry out that he tickled her. Nothing daunted, however,
-she placed her ear a second time to his lips; and then he whispered
-something, which made Ellen jump for joy, and hug him round the neck,
-and tear out of the room as if she were mad. And almost before you
-could say "Jack Robinson!" there she was back again, her eyes all
-aglow with excitement, in her modest Sunday dress and pretty Sunday
-bonnet.
-
-Susan's voice was heard calling out,--
-
-"Here's the cart at the door!"
-
-"She means our carriage, Jo," said Dan merrily, as Joshua carried him
-out.
-
-And there they were, the three of them in the cart; Dan lying his full
-length on some straw between Joshua and Ellen, who sat upon a kind of
-bench in a state of perfect happiness. And there were the bullfinches
-in their cage, wondering what on earth it all meant, but very blithe
-and merry notwithstanding. And there was the cart moving, along
-slowly, so that Dan should not be jolted. And there they were,
-presently, looking at each other, and laughing and nodding pleasantly
-without any apparent cause.
-
-Not among all the stars that gem the heavens (which some wise men
-assert are really worlds in which forms that have life fulfil the task
-ordained by the Master of all the worlds) could there be found a more
-beautiful world than this was to our young holiday-folk on that bright
-summer morning. Whitechapel the Dingy was as a flower-garden in their
-eyes; and as they rode through the busy neighborhood a great many
-persons turned to look at the crazy cart--the springs in which were
-the only uneasy part of the whole affair--and at the three joyful
-faces that peered about, enjoying every thing, and thankful for every
-thing, from the flying clouds to the lazy gutters.
-
-Soon they were at the waterside; and soon they were on the barge, with
-the Old Sailor welcoming them in downright sailor fashion. Directly
-Dan put out his little hand, and felt it imprisoned in the Old
-Sailor's immense palm, and directly he looked at the great open face,
-pock-marked as it was, and into the staring pleasant eyes, which
-returned his look honestly and pleasantly, he nodded to himself in
-satisfaction. His delight was unbounded when the Old Sailor lifted him
-tenderly, and placed him in a hammock specially prepared for him. He
-was deeply impressed by the Old Sailor's thoughtful kindness. The mere
-fact of his lying in a hammock was entrancing. And there Dan swung,
-and, gazing in wonder upon the busy life of the flowing river, fancied
-himself in dreamland.
-
-Before he gave himself up to that trance, however, there was much to
-be done and much to be observed. When the Old Sailor lifted him into
-the hammock and arranged him comfortably--Dan was surprised that those
-great strong hands could be so light and tender--he said to the Old
-Sailor, "Thank you, sir;" and the Old Sailor replied, "Ay, ay, my
-lad," just as he had read of, and in just the kind of tone he imagined
-a sailor would use.
-
-The next thing the Old Sailor did was to rest his hand upon Ellen's
-head. Thereupon Joshua said, "You don't mind, Mr. Praiseworthy, do
-you?" referring to the liberty they had taken in bringing Ellen
-without an invitation. "Mind!" the Old Sailor exclaimed. "A pretty
-little lass like this!" and he stooped and kissed her. And Ellen did
-not even blush, but seemed to like it. The Old Sailor seemed to like
-it too. There was something wonderfully charming in his manner of
-saying "Pretty little lass;" none but a downright thoroughbred old tar
-could have said it in such a way. And there was something wonderfully
-charming in the rough grace with which he accepted the bunch of
-flowers from Ellen. His first intention was to stick them in the bosom
-of his shirt; but second consideration led him to reflect that their
-circumference rendered such a resting-place inappropriate. So he
-placed them in a large tin mug, and sprinkled them with water, which
-glistened on their leaves as freshly as the dew-kisses which glisten
-in the early morning wherever Nature makes holiday. Then Dan took the
-cage containing the bullfinches, and asked the Old Sailor to accept
-the birds as a present from him and Joshua; and the Old Sailor thanked
-him in such cordial terms, that his heart was stirred with a fresh
-delight. Truth to tell, the Old Sailor was mightily gratified with the
-birds; but, at the same time, he was mightily puzzled as to what he
-was to do with them. Prettier little things he had never seen; but,
-small and beautiful as they were, they were a responsibility for which
-he was not prepared. He stood with his legs wide apart, regarding the
-birds with a perplexed expression on his face; and Dan divining what
-was in his mind, opened the door of the cage and out hopped the
-bullfinches looking about them with an air of having been accustomed
-to the water all their lives. As if impelled by a sudden desire to fly
-away and join their mates in distant woodlands, they took wing and
-fluttered around the hammock in which Dan lay; now coming
-tantalizingly near, and now sailing away with an independent air, as
-much as to say, "We're off!" But when Dan held out his forefinger, they
-came and perched upon it contentedly. The Old Sailor gazed on the
-little comedy in admiration. His admiration was increased a hundred
-fold when Dan, taking his hand, transferred the birds on to his
-forefinger. He looked at the birds timorously; the birds looked at him
-confidently. He was afraid to move lest some mischief should happen to
-the delicate creatures.
-
-"Put them in the cage, sir," said Dan. The Old Sailor did so. "Now,"
-continued Dan, "I will send you food for them regularly; and it will
-not be too much trouble for you to fill this well with fresh water
-every morning, will it, sir?"
-
-"No," said the Old Sailor. "But how will the birds get at the water,
-my lad? It is out of their reach."
-
-"Ah! you think so, sir. But have you ever been in want of water?"
-
-"Of fresh water, I have, my lad; not of salt. Was for three days on a
-raft, with not a drop of fresh water among thirty-seven of us. Two
-drank salt water, and went raving mad; one threw himself into the
-sea."
-
-"And the others, sir?" inquired Dan, immensely interested.
-
-"The others, my lad, waited and suffered, and prayed for rain. And it
-came, my lad, and we were saved, by the mercy of God. It was awful
-suffering; our very eyeballs were blazing with thirst. It would have
-been a relief to us if we could have cried."
-
-"But the heavens cried for you, sir," said Dan tenderly.
-
-"Ay, ay, my lad," said the Old Sailor; "that's well said. The heavens
-cried for us; and we lay on our backs with our mouths open to catch
-the blessed drops. The salt water that was death to us dashed up from
-below; and the fresh water that was life to us came down from above.
-In five minutes we were soaked with the rain; and we sucked at our
-clothes. We caught enough rain-water to last us until we were picked
-up by a merchantman, homeward bound from the Indies."
-
-"That was good," said Dan, feeling as if he had known the Old Sailor
-all his life. "Now, supposing you were wrecked, sir, on a high rock.
-Here is the rock," pointing to the perch on which the bullfinches were
-standing.
-
-"Here is the rock," repeated the Old Sailor, chiming in readily with
-Dan's fancy.
-
-"And here you are, sir, with another sailor," identifying Praiseworthy
-Meddler and the other sailor with the two bullfinches.
-
-"And here am I, with another sailor," said the Old Sailor attentively,
-nodding familiarly at his new shipmate in the cage, who, making much
-too light of the calamity which had befallen them, winked saucily in
-return.
-
-"And you are very thirsty."
-
-"And I am very thirsty," said the Old Sailor, smacking his parched
-lips.
-
-"And here, out of your reach, is the water," indicating the well, "you
-want to drink."
-
-"And here, out of my reach, is the water I want to drink," said the
-Old Sailor, growing more parched.
-
-"Now, then," said Dan, "you can't get at the water with your beak--I
-mean your mouth--and you can't reach it with your claws--I mean your
-hands. Now what do you do?"
-
-"Ah what do I do?" repeated the Old Sailor, not seeing his way out of
-the difficulty.
-
-"Why," exclaimed Dan enthusiastically, "you get a rope--or, if you
-haven't got one, you make one out of some strong grass, or out of
-strips of your clothes; and you get a bucket--or you make one out of a
-cocoanut," in his enthusiasm Dan took the cocoanut for granted; and
-the Old Sailor accepted its existence on the rock with most implicit
-faith--"and you attach the cocoanut to the rope, and you lower it into
-the water, and draw it up full. Here you are, doing it."
-
-And, obedient to Dan's signal, the bullfinches lowered their tiny
-bucket into the well, and drew it up full, and dipped their beaks into
-the water, as if they were shipwrecked bullfinches, and were nearly
-dead with raging thirst.
-
-A thoughtful expression stole into the Old Sailor's face.
-
-"They are wise little creatures," he said. "I have seen a might of
-strange things and pretty things; but this is as pretty as any thing I
-have seen."
-
-"You can learn them any thing almost, sir," said Dan, who was bent
-upon making the Old Sailor love the birds.
-
-"To climb ropes like a sailor?"
-
-"In a week they could. If I had a little ship, with two or three sails
-and a rope-ladder, I could teach them to climb the ladder and set the
-sails."
-
-"I dare say, my lad, I dare say."
-
-"Did you ever see a mermaid, sir?"
-
-This was one of the questions Dan had made up his mind to ask the Old
-Sailor directly they grew familiar.
-
-"Yes," answered the Old Sailor. "I wasn't very near her; and I was
-laughed at for saying I had seen her. But I saw her, for all that."
-
-"Where was it that you saw her, sir?"
-
-"In the South Pacific, where there are the ugliest images of men and
-women, and the most wonderful birds and flowers and trees, in the
-world. I have walked for miles through forests of wild flowers and
-strange trees, while thousands of parrots were flying about, with
-their feathers all blue and gold and scarlet and silver."
-
-"Oh, how beautiful!" exclaimed Dan, twining his fingers together. "And
-they're there now, sir?"
-
-"Surely. Your land-lubbers don't know any thing of the world."
-
-"Those men and women, sir--are they very ugly?"
-
-"As ugly as sin can make 'em--brown and copper-colored and nearly
-black; cannibals they are."
-
-"That's very dreadful!" said Dan with a shiver. "What else have you
-seen, sir?"
-
-"What would you say to gardens in the sea?" asked the Old Sailor
-enthusiastically. "What would you say to fields in the sky?"
-
-"No!" said Dan in wonder.
-
-"Yes, my lad. Gardens in the sea, with the flowers growing and
-blooming. I only saw land in the sky once; but it was a sight that
-can't be forgot. We were thousands of miles away from land; but there
-in the sky was the country, with fields and forests and mountains. We
-saw it for near an hour; then it melted away. What would you say to
-flying fish--showers of 'em. I heard of a talking fish; but I never
-saw it. I shouldn't wonder, now, if these pretty little birds could
-talk."
-
-"No, sir," said Dan; "they can't talk, but they can sing."
-
-With that he whistled the first stave of "Rule, Britannia;" and the
-bullfinches piped the patriotic song so spiritedly, that the Old
-Sailor roared out in a hoarse voice, "Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules
-the waves!" and then stopped, and wiped the perspiration from his
-forehead, and exclaimed, "Lord, Lord!" with rapturous bewilderment.
-But when Dan whistled "And have you not heard of a jolly young
-waterman?" and the birds answered, "Oh, yes! we have heard of a jolly
-young waterman," and proceeded to narrate where that jolly young
-waterman plied, and how dexterously that jolly young waterman
-feathered his oars, the Old Sailor was fairly dumfoundered, and sat
-down in silence, and watched and listened, while Dan put the birds
-through the whole of their performances.
-
-Ah, what a happy day was that--never, never to be forgotten! As he lay
-in his hammock, with a delicious sense of rest upon him, he saw
-pleasure-boats and barges floating down with the tide, with a happy
-indolence in keeping with every thing about him. What else? Bright
-visions in the clouds; not for himself, but for his friend, his
-brother Joshua; bright visions of beautiful lands and beautiful seas.
-What did the Old Sailor say? Gardens in the sea, with the flowers
-growing and blooming! He saw them in the clouds; and each flower was
-bright with beauty, and each petal was rimmed with light. Fields in
-the skies! There they were, stretching far, far away; and some one was
-walking through forests of wild flowers and strange trees. Who was it?
-Joshua! And there were the parrots that the Old Sailor had spoken of;
-with their feathers of blue and gold and scarlet and silver. But Dan
-happened to turn his eyes from the clouds to the water, and dreamland
-faded. Joshua was rowing on the river.
-
-Bravo, Joshua! How strong he looked, with his shirt-sleeves tucked up
-to his shoulders; and how well he managed his oars! Not that Dan was
-much of a judge; but he knew what grace was, and surely he saw that
-before him when he saw Joshua rowing. Joshua looked at Dan, and smiled
-and nodded; and Dan clapped his hands. And Joshua, to show how clever
-he was, made a great sweep with the oars, and fell backwards in the
-boat, in a most ridiculous position, with his heels in the air. But he
-was up again like lightning, and recovered his oars, and made so light
-of it, that Dan, who had caught his breath for an instant, laughed
-merrily at the mishap, and thought it was good fun. His laugh was
-echoed by Ellen, who was sitting by his side, and who had also been a
-little alarmed at first. The industrious maid was making holiday in
-her own peculiar way. She was not accustomed to sit idly down with her
-hands in her lap. By some mysterious means she had obtained possession
-of two of the Old Sailor's shirts which required mending; and there
-she was stitching away at them, as if it were the most natural thing
-in the world for her to do when she came out for a holiday. Did she
-have a design upon the Old Sailor? It really looked suspiciously like
-it, if one might judge from the demure glances she cast upon him every
-now and then, and from the admiring manner in which he returned her
-artful glances. One thing was certain: she had fairly captivated him;
-and there is no telling what might have occurred, if he had been
-thirty years younger.
-
-What more beautiful phase of human nature can be seen than that of an
-old man with a young heart? Place, side by side, two pictures of old
-manhood: one, with crafty face; with cautious eyes that never rove;
-with compressed lips that keep guard on every word; with puckered
-forehead and eyebrows, from every ugly crevice in which the spirit of
-"You can't take me in" peeps out, as if the essence of a fox were in
-hiding there;--the other, with open face, which says, "Read me; I am
-not afraid;" with eyes that, be they large or small, enjoy what they
-see; with full-fleshed wrinkles on forehead and eyebrows; with lips
-that smile when others smile.
-
-No younger heart ever beat in the breast of an old man than that which
-beat in the breast of Praiseworthy Meddler. He had never mingled with
-children; yet here he was, at nearly seventy years of age, a hale and
-hearty old man, with a nature as simple as a child's. What was it that
-made him so? Was it because he had lived his youth and manhood away
-from cities, where the tricky webs of trade teach men to trick as
-their brethren do, or where the anxiety how to live, and with many,
-alas, how to get to-morrow's bread, stops the generous flow of a
-generous nature, and robs life's summer of its brightness? Or did he
-inherit it? If so, how deserving of pity are those children who are
-born of crafty parents! There are human mysteries which science has
-not dared to probe, and there are inherited ills and calamities which
-philanthropists, up to the present time, have not tried to get to the
-root of.
-
-Anyhow, here was Praiseworthy Meddler sitting upon the deck of his
-barge by the side of Ellen, showing her, in the intervals of
-stitching, how to splice a broken rope, and initiating her into the
-mysteries a short-splice, long-splice, and eye-splice. Dan, looking
-on, begged some rope, and proved himself a wonderfully-apt scholar,
-which caused the Old Sailor to remark,--
-
-"You ought to be a sailor, my lad;" forgetting for the moment that
-Dan's legs were useless.
-
-"I should have to work in a hammock, sir," said Dan cheerfully.
-
-The Old Sailor blushed.
-
-"I forgot," he said in a gentle voice.
-
-"There's the sailor for you, if you like," said Dan, pointing to
-Joshua, who, a couple of hundred yards away, was pulling lazily
-towards the barge.
-
-"Ay, ay, my lad; Joshua has the right stuff in him. He will be a fine
-strong man."
-
-"He is better than strong, sir," said Dan; "he is noble and
-tender-hearted. If you knew, sir, how good he has been to me, you
-would admire and love him more. If you knew how gentle he has been to
-me--how tender, and how self-sacrificing--you would think even better
-of him than you do. We have been together all our lives; every day he
-has come to me as regularly as the sun, and has been to me what the
-sun is to the day. I look back now that he is going away, and I cannot
-remember that he has ever given me a cross word or a cross look. And I
-have been very troublesome sometimes, and very peevish; but he has
-borne with it all. Look, sir," and Dan drew the Old Sailor's attention
-to two pieces of rope, one thin and one thick, the strands of which he
-had been interweaving, "this thin rope is me; this thick rope is
-Joshua. Now we are spliced, and you can't pull us apart. Joshua and me
-are friends for ever and ever!"
-
-The Old Sailor listened attentively, and nodded his head occasionally,
-to show that he was following Dan's words, and understood them. Ellen,
-having mended the Old Sailor's shirts, sat with her hands folded in
-her lap, indorsing every word that Dan uttered.
-
-Just then Joshua reached the barge, and having secured the boat,
-climbed on to the deck. As he did so, eight bells struck.
-
-"Eight bells," said the Old Sailor. "Dinner."
-
-With that, he lifted Dan out of the hammock, and carried him to where
-dinner was laid on a table which extended fore and aft down the centre
-of what it would be the wildest extravagance of courtesy to call a
-saloon, and where every thing was prepared in expectation of a storm.
-Joshua and Ellen followed, and the four of them made a very merry
-party. Lobscouse and sea-pie were the only dishes, and they were
-brought in by a Lascar with rings in his ears, whom the Old Sailor
-called a "lubberly swab," because he was unmistakably drunk; and who
-in return, notwithstanding his drunken condition, cast upon the Old
-Sailor an evil look, which flashed from his eyes like a dagger-stroke.
-This Lascar was the man who had struck eight bells, and who cooked for
-the Old Sailor, and did odd work about the barge, in return for which
-he got his victuals and a bunk to sleep in. A lazy, indolent rogue,
-who would do any thing, never mind what, for rum and tobacco; a
-cringing, submissive, treacherous rogue, ripe for the execution of any
-villainy on the promise of rum and tobacco; a rogue who would fawn,
-and lie, and stab, and humble himself and play Bombastes for rum and
-tobacco. They were all he seemed to live for; they were his
-Thirty-nine Articles, and he was ready to sell himself for them any
-day. Of what quality might be the work proposed to him to do, so as to
-earn the reward, was of the very smallest consequence to him. He gave
-Ellen such an ugly look of wicked admiration that she was glad when he
-was gone.
-
-Dinner over, they returned to the deck, and the Old Sailor told them
-stories of the sea-stories so enthralling, that the afternoon glided
-by like a dream; and the setting sun was tinged with the glories of
-the distant lands whither it was wending. They had tea on deck--a
-delicious tea, of shrimps, water-creases, and bread-and-butter. The
-task of preparing the tea was performed by Ellen and the Old Sailor;
-and during the performance of this task, it may be confidently stated
-that the conquest of the Old Sailor was completed, and that he was
-from that moment, and ever afterwards, her devoted slave. Then they
-went down, and sat two and two on each side of the table, Joshua and
-Dan being on one side, and Ellen and the Old Sailor on the other; and
-they had more sea-stories, and were altogether in a state of supreme
-happiness.
-
-During the latter part of the evening the conversation turned upon
-Joshua's approaching voyage.
-
-"Always bear in mind the sailor's watchword, my lad," said the Old
-Sailor. "Along the line the signal ran: 'England expects that every
-man this day will do his duty.' That's meant not for this day alone,
-but for always. What a sailor's got to do is to obey. Many a voyage
-has had a bad ending because of a sailor's forgetting his watchword.
-Don't you forget it, Josh."
-
-"I won't, sir."
-
-"The 'Merry Andrew,' that you're going to make your first voyage in,
-is a fine ship; the skipper is a fine skipper--a man he is, and that's
-what a ship wants--a man and not an image." The Old Sailor said this
-in a tone of exasperation, inspired, possibly, by some tantalizing
-remembrance of a ship commanded by an image instead of a man. "So
-stick to your watchword, my lad. It wouldn't be a bad thing now if we
-were to drink to it."
-
-The cunning old rascal was only too glad of a chance to get at his
-grog.
-
-"Bravo!" exclaimed Dan, clapping his hands.
-
-No sooner said than done. Hot water, lemon, sugar, rum, compounded
-with the skill of an artist. A glass for Joshua, a glass for Dan, a
-glass for the Old Sailor, and a small glass for Ellen. Not one of them
-seemed afraid of it--not even Ellen.
-
-"Now then," said the Old Sailor, smiling as the steam rose to his
-nostrils. "Now, then; the sailor's watchword--Duty, and may Joshua
-never forget it!"
-
-"Duty, Jo," said Dan, nodding over his glass to Joshua.
-
-"Duty, Dan," said Joshua, nodding to Dan.
-
-Ellen said nothing aloud, but whispered something into her glass. Then
-they drank and sipped their grog, and resumed the conversation.
-
-"Have you been to New Holland, sir?" asked Dan. The "Merry Andrew" was
-bound for New Holland.
-
-"I was there when I was a youngster," replied the Old Sailor, mixing a
-second glass of grog for himself. "It was a wild country then; I am
-told it is growing into a wonderful country now. We were six months
-going out. We had nearly four hundred convicts aboard, most of them in
-irons. A miserable lot of desperate wretches they were! They were not
-well treated, and they knew it. We had to keep close watch over them;
-if they could have set themselves free by any means--they talked of it
-many a time among themselves--they would have captured the ship, and
-flung us overboard, or something worse. We landed them at Port
-Phillip, where the British Government wanted to form a settlement."
-
-"Why New Holland, sir?" asked Dan, always eager for information.
-
-"Discovered by the Dutch in about 1600," replied the Old Sailor
-oratorically. "Victoria was discovered by Capt. Cook; let us drink to
-him." They took a sip--all but the Old Sailor, who scorned sips.
-"Discovered by Capt. Cook in 1770, after he had discovered New
-Zealand."
-
-"Any savages, sir?"
-
-"Swarms. We were out in a boat exploring, and when we were close in
-shore, two or three hundred savages came whooping down upon us. We
-weren't afraid of them; we pulled in to shore, and they stopped short
-about twenty yards from us, jabbering like a lot of black monkeys.
-They soon got courage enough to come closer to us, and we gave them
-some grog; but the ignorant lubbers spit it out of their mouths at
-first. Then they began to steal things from the boat; and when we gave
-them to understand that what was ours wasn't theirs, they grew saucy.
-A black fellow caught up the master's-mate, and ran away with him."
-
-"What did they want with him, sir?"
-
-"To eat him, of course. We fired over their heads, and they dropped
-the master's-mate, who ran back to us, glad enough to get free, for he
-didn't relish the idea of being made a meal of. But when the savages
-found that the guns didn't hurt them, they came whooping up to us
-again, flourishing their spears. Their faces were painted, and they
-had swans' feathers sticking out of their heads. Some of them had skin
-cloaks on, painted all over with figures of naked men, and some of
-them had bones stuck through their nostrils. On they came, yelling and
-leaping like so many devils, thinking what a fine roast the fattest of
-us would make. Then we fired and killed one of them. Directly they saw
-him fall, they scampered off like madmen."
-
-When the conversation flagged, they had music and singing. Joshua
-played, and Dan sang a song, and the Old Sailor sang a good many. The
-best of the Old Sailor's songs was, that they were all about the sea,
-and that every one of them had a chorus in which the company could
-join. Of course he sang "Heave the Lead," and "Yeo, heave, ho! To the
-windlass let us go, with yo, heave ho!" and "Saturday Night at Sea;"
-and when "Saturday night did come, my boys, to drink to Poll and
-Bess," he flourished his glass, and drank to those young ladies with a
-will. The number of lovely ladies with whom the Old Sailor made them
-acquainted was something astonishing. Poor Jack had his Poll, whom he
-addressed in a not very dignified manner, when he said to her,--
-
-
- "What argufies sniv'ling and piping your eye?
- Why what a--(_hem!_) fool you must be!"
-
-
-Out of respect for Ellen, the Old Sailor coughed over a good many
-words in the songs he sang; for it must be confessed that there was
-more swearing in them than was absolutely necessary. Poor Jack,
-however, who called his Poll a something fool, made up for it in the
-end by declaring that "his heart was his Poll's" (a very pretty though
-somewhat trite sentiment), and "his rhino's his friend's" (a very
-unwise and foolish sentiment, as the world goes). Then there was a
-Polly whom the lads called so pretty, and who entreated her
-sweetheart, before he sailed in the good ship the "Kitty" to be
-constant to her; and who, when he returned without any rhino, turned
-up her nose at him, as young women do now and then. Then there were
-Poll in "My Poll and my partner Joe" (it was wonderful how faithless
-the Polls were), and Poll in "Every inch a Sailor," who, when poor
-Haulyard came home in tatters, swore (very unfeminine of her) that she
-had never seen his face. But honest Ned Haulyard was a philosophical
-sailor, for he something'd her for a faithless she, and singing went
-again to sea. The Nancies were a better class of female:--
-
-
- "I love my duty, love my friend,
- Love truth and merit to defend,
- To moan their loss who hazard ran;
- I love to take an honest part.
- Love beauty with a spotless heart,
- By manners love to show the man;
- To sail through life by honor's breeze--
- 'Twas all along of loving these
- First made me dote on lovely Nan."
-
-
-And so on, and so on, with gentle Anna and buxom Nan; and poor Fanny,
-who drowned herself in the waves near to the place where hung the
-trembling pines; and poor Peggy, who loved a soldier lad (a marine,
-without doubt); and bonny Kate, who lived happily afterwards with Tom
-Clueline. Ellen joined in the choruses with her sweet voice; but,
-strange to say, she had not been asked to sing until the Old Sailor,
-struck perhaps by a sudden remorse at monopolizing the harmony, called
-upon her for a song. Ellen, nothing loth, asked what song; and Joshua
-said,--
-
-"Sing the song you learned of mother, Ellen."
-
-"'Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses?'" inquired Ellen.
-
-"Yes, 'Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses.' 'Tisn't quite a girl's song sir"
-(to the Old Sailor); "but it is a good song, and Ellen sings it
-nicely."
-
-"Hooray, then, for 'Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses!'" cried the Old
-Sailor, casting a glance of intense admiration at Ellen, who, without
-more ado, sang as follows:--
-
-
-BREAD-AND-CHEESE AND KISSES.
-
- One day, when I came home fatigued,
- And felt inclined to grumble,
- Because my life was one of toil,
- Because my lot was humble,
- I said to Kate, my darling wife,
- In whom my whole life's bliss is,
- "What have you got for dinner, Kate?"
- "Why, bread-and-cheese and kisses!"
-
- Though worn and tired, my heart leaped up
- As those plain words she uttered.
- Why should I envy those whose bread
- Than mine's more thickly buttered?
- I said, "We'll have dessert at once."
- "What's that?" she asked. "Why, this is."
- I kissed her. Ah, what sweeter meal
- Than bread-and-cheese and kisses!
-
- I gazed at her with pure delight;
- She nodded and smiled gayly;
- I said, "My love, on such a meal
- I'd dine with pleasure, daily.
- When I but think of you, dear girl,
- I pity those fine misses
- Who turn their noses up and pout
- At bread-and-cheese and kisses.
-
- "And when I look on your dear form,
- And on your face so homely;
- And when I look in your dear eyes,
- And on your dress so comely;
- And when I hold you in my arms,
- I laugh at Fortune's misses.
- I'm blessed in you, content with you,
- And bread-and-cheese and kisses."
-
-
-Thus ended the happy day.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX.
-MINNIE AND HER SHELL.
-
-
-So the simple ways of Joshua's simple life were drawing to a close. He
-had chosen his career, and to-morrow he would be at the end of the
-quiet groove in which he had hitherto moved, and would step upon
-rougher roads, to commence the battle which dooms many a
-fair-promising life to a despairing death, and out of which no one
-comes without scars and wounds which art and time are powerless to
-heal. To-morrow he was to leave a father almost too indulgent; a mother
-whose heart was as true in its motherly affection for him as the
-needle is to the pole; a friend who gave him a love as tender and as
-pure as that which angels could feel.
-
-During the past week he had been busily engaged in leave-taking, and
-he had been surprised to find what a number of friends he had. There
-was not one of the poor neighbors, in the poor locality in which he
-had passed his boyhood's days, who had not kind words and good wishes
-for him, and who did not give them heartily and without stint. Many a
-hearty handwillshake from men whose hands he had never touched before,
-and many a motherly kiss from women he had been in the habit of saying
-only "Good-morning" to, did Joshua receive. There is a stronger
-knitting of affection between poor people in poor neighborhoods than
-there is among the rich in their wider thoroughfares. Perhaps it is
-the narrow streets that draw them closer to each other; perhaps it is
-the common struggle to keep body and soul together in which they are
-all engaged; perhaps it is the unconscious recognition of a higher law
-of humanity than prevails elsewhere; perhaps it is the absence of the
-wider barriers of exclusiveness, among which the smaller and more
-beautiful flowers of feeling--being so humble and unassuming--are in
-danger of being lost or overlooked. Anyhow the ties of affection are
-stronger among the poor. Putting necessity and sickness aside, more
-mothers nurse their babes from love among the poor than among the
-rich.
-
-The secret of this unanimity of goodwill towards Joshua lay in his
-uniformly quiet demeanor and affectionate disposition. The wonderful
-friendship that existed between Dan and Joshua was a household word in
-the poor homes round about; there was something so beautiful in it,
-that they felt a pride in the circumstance of its having been cemented
-in their midst; and many tender-hearted women said that night to their
-husbands, that they wondered what Dan would do now that Joshua was
-going away. "And Josh, too," the husband would reply; "do you think
-he won't miss Dan?" But the women thought mostly of Dan in that
-relationship. The romance of the thing had something to do with this
-general interest in his welfare. Here was a young man, one of their
-own order, born and bred among them, who, from no contempt of their
-humble ways of life but from a distinct desire to do better than they
-(not to _be_ better; that they would have resented), had resolved to
-go out into the world to carve a way for himself. It was brave and
-manly; it was daring and heroic. For the world was so wide! Cooped-up
-as _they_ were, what did they know of it? What did they see of it?
-Those of them--the few--who worked at home in their once-a-week
-shirt-sleeves, could raise their eyes from their work, and see the
-dull prospect of over the way; or, resting wearily from the monotonous
-labor, could stroll to their street-doors, and look up and down the
-street in a meaningless, purposeless manner: like automatons in
-aprons, with dirty faces and very black finger-nails, coming out of a
-box and performing a task in which there was necessarily no sense of
-enjoyment.
-
-Those of them--the many--who toiled in workshops other than their
-homes, saw with the rising and the setting of every sun a few narrow
-streets within the circumference of a mile, mayhap. Moving always in
-the same groove, trudging to their workshops every morning, trudging
-home every night--it was the same thing for them day after day. The
-humdrum course of time was only marked by the encroachment of gray
-hairs and white; or by the patching-up of the poor furniture, which
-grew more rheumatic, and groaned more dismally every succeeding
-season; or by the cracking and dismemberment of cups and saucers and
-plates; or by the slow death of the impossible figures on the
-tea-trays--figures which were bright and gay once upon a time, as
-their owners were upon a certain happy wedding-day. Here, as a type,
-are three small mugs, the letters upon which are either quite faded
-away, or are denoted by a very mockery of shrivelled lines, as if
-their lives were being drawn out to the last stage of miserable
-attenuation. Once they proclaimed themselves proudly, and in golden
-letters, "For George, a Birthday Present;" "For Mary Ann, with
-Mother's Love;" "Charley, for a Good Boy." George and Mary, Ann and
-Charley used to clap their little hands, and swing their little legs
-delightedly, when they and the mugs kept company at breakfast and
-tea-time; but now flesh and crockery have grown old, and are fading
-away in common. The hair on George's head is very thin, although he is
-not yet forty years of age; Mary Ann is an anxious-looking mother,
-with six dirty children, who, as she declares twenty times a day, are
-enough to worry the life out of her; and Charley has turned out any
-thing but "a Good Boy," being much too fond of public-houses. With
-such like uninteresting variations, the lives of George and Mary Ann
-and Charley were typical of the lives of all the poor people amongst
-whom the Marvels lived. From the cradle to the grave, every thing the
-same; the same streets, the same breakfasts, the same dinners, the
-same uneventful routine of existence, the only visible signs upon the
-record being the deepening of wrinkles and the whitening of hairs. But
-they were happy enough, notwithstanding; and if their pulses were
-stirred into quicker motion when they shook Joshua's hand and wished
-him good luck, there was no envy towards him in their minds, and no
-feeling of discontent marred the genuineness of their God-speed. When
-at candle-time they spoke of Joshua and of the world which he was
-going to see, some of the women said that it would have been better if
-"you, John," or "you, William," "had struck out for yourself when you
-were young;" and John and William assenting, sighed to think that it
-was too late for them to make a new start. Well, their time was past;
-the tide which they might have taken at the flood, but did not, would
-never come again to their life's shore. Joshua _had_ taken it at the
-flood, and would be afloat to-morrow; good luck be with him! In the
-heartiness of their good wishes there was no expressed consciousness
-that there was as much heroism in their quiet lives as in the lives of
-great heroes and daring adventurers; which very unconsciousness and
-unexpressed abnegation made that heroism (begging Mr. Ruskin's pardon
-for calling it so) all the grander.
-
-Joshua had bidden the Old Sailor good-by. The dear, simple old fellow
-had given Joshua some golden rules to go by; had enjoined him to be
-respectful and submissive; to learn all he could; to be cheerful
-always, and to do his work willingly, however hard it seemed; not to
-mix himself up in the men's quarrels or grumblings; had told him how
-that some officers were querulous, and some were tyrannical, but that
-he could always keep himself out of mischief by obeying orders; and
-had impressed upon him, more particularly than all, the value of the
-golden motto--Duty. "Keep that for your watchword, my lad," said the
-Old Sailor, "and you will do."
-
-"I am glad it is nearly all over," said Joshua to Dan. "I have only
-two or three more to say good-by to, with the exception of mother and
-father, and Ellen and you, dear Dan."
-
-"There's Susan, Jo," said Dan after a pause. "I wish you could see her
-before you go."
-
-"I wish so, too. I am going now to say good-by to Minnie and her
-father."
-
-"Is he better, Jo?"
-
-"I haven't seen him for a week; but I don't think he is ever quite
-right here;" touching his forehead.
-
-They were speaking of the street actor, whose name was Basil Kindred.
-
-"And Minnie is very pretty, you say."
-
-"Very pretty, but with such strange ways, Dan, as I have told you
-before."
-
-"Yes," said Dan, looking earnestly at Joshua.
-
-"Sometimes like a woman, which she is not; sometimes like a little
-child, which she is not. Yet for all she is so strange, one can't help
-loving her, and pitying her."
-
-"Is she at all like Ellen, Jo?"
-
-"Minnie is not like Ellen," said Joshua, considering. "Ellen's face is
-calm and peaceful; Minnie's is grander, larger. Minnie is the kind of
-girl for a heroine, and Ellen is not, I think. She is too peaceful.
-Say that Ellen is like a lake, Minnie is like the sea."
-
-A quiet smile passed over Dan's lips, yet a regretful one, too.
-
-"You don't know Ellen, Jo," he said "Give me the lake."
-
-"And me the sea," said Joshua, not meaning it at all with reference to
-the girls, but literally, with reference to his choice of a
-profession.
-
-From the first part of this conversation it will be gathered that
-Susan Taylor had left her home, and had chosen to keep her residence a
-secret from her family. She was not to blame for it; for she had been
-most unhappy in the family mansion of the Taylors. Although she earned
-her own living, and paid for her board and lodging, her father, a
-drunken, lazy mechanic, had lately been pestering her for small loans,
-to be spent, of course, at the public-house. These she could not
-afford to give him; and when he found that she would not assist him,
-he quarrelled with her. He twitted her about her ungainly person,
-jeered at her strange mannerisms, pricked her with domestic pins and
-needles, and made her life so miserable, that she was glad when the
-culminating quarrel gave her the opportunity to run away.
-
-She had never had a friend. Nearly every girl has a girl-companion
-with whom she exchanges little confidences, and whom she consults as
-to the fashion of the new bonnet, and how it is to be trimmed, the
-pattern of the new dress, and how many flounces it is to have, the
-color of the new piece of ribbon, and how it should be worn, the
-personal appearance and intentions of the last new admirer, and how he
-is to be treated. Susan never had such a companion; worse than that,
-she never had a sweetheart. She had grown to woman's estate without
-ever having experienced the pleasures of courtship, either as a child
-or as a woman. No little boy had taken a liking to her when she was a
-little girl; and when she grew to be a young woman, no young man had
-cast a favorable eye upon her. Sooth to say, there was nothing
-singular in the circumstance; for she was as little attractive
-externally, as a young woman well could be.
-
-If it were necessary to define and describe her with brevity, a happy
-definition and description might be given in two simple words--Joints
-and Knobs. Susan Taylor was all Joints and Knobs, from the crown of
-her head to the soles of her feet. There was not a straight line about
-her; every square inch of her frame was broken by a joint or
-intersected by a knob. Her face did not contain one perfect feature.
-Bones, with sharp rugged outlines, asserted themselves in her cheeks,
-in her chin, in her nose (most aggressively there), and in the arches
-of her eyes. Her shoulders were suggestive of nothing but
-salt-cellars; her fingers were covered with knuckles; her arms were
-all elbows; and her knees, as she walked, forced themselves into
-notice with offensive demonstrativeness. There was nothing round and
-soft about her. Every part of her was suggestive of Bone; she was so
-replete with mysterious and complicated angles that she might be said
-to resemble a mathematical torture. Her angular proportions, broken
-here by a joint, or intersected there by a knob, did not agree with
-one another. As not one of them would accept a subordinate position,
-they were necessarily on the very worst of terms: like a regiment in
-which every soldier insisted on being colonel, and struggled for the
-position. The result was Anatomical Confusion.
-
-Cupid is popularly represented to be a mischievous young imp, who
-delights in tying persons together who are not in the least suited to
-each other, and as being so reckless and indiscriminate in the use of
-the metaphorical arrow, which he is everlastingly fixing to that
-metaphorical bow with such malicious nicety, that the right man seldom
-finds himself in the right place, and the right woman is similarly
-unfortunate. As a consequence of this eccentric and inhuman conduct,
-long men and short women and long women and short men, get absurdly
-matched, and the mental disparity is often found to be no less than
-the disparity in limb and bulk. But never, surely, did that tricksy
-youngster (who is so convenient to writers as a reference, and in
-various other ways, that they cannot be sufficiently grateful for his
-mythological existence) play a stranger prank than when he made Susan
-Taylor and Basil Kindred acquainted with each other. The evening on
-which Susan, for the first time, saw Basil Kindred act the Ghost
-scenes in "Hamlet," marked an era in her life not less important than
-that sad era which was commenced by her letting her brother Daniel
-fall from her arms out of the window on to the cruel stones. For if
-ever woman fell in love (which is so violently suggestive that it may
-well be doubted) with man, Susan Taylor, on that evening, fell in love
-with Basil Kindred.
-
-But Susan was not the woman to exhibit her passion in words. In
-another fashion she did exhibit it: in the best fashion that devotion
-Can show itself--in deeds. She was not a cunning woman, nor a wise one
-either. Being from the very infirmities of her nature a kind of social
-outcast, she was not likely to consider what the world would say of
-any action of hers. And here was an anomaly; she was neither foolish
-enough nor wise enough to consider what the world would say; yet had
-she considered that her conduct was open to censure, she would not
-have swerved a hair's breadth because of the world's opinion; and this
-very independence proceeded not from a hardened nature, but from a
-nature utterly simple. So she did what a very considerable majority of
-the busy bees in this busy world would consider either a very foolish
-thing or some thing worse. When she left her home she rented a room in
-the miserable house in which Basil Kindred and his daughter resided.
-She did this because she loved him; and yet looking for no return of
-her passion, she did it so that she might make herself useful to him
-and to Minnie. The living she earned as a dressmaker was a poor and a
-scanty one enough; but she managed, out of her small earnings, to
-contribute some little towards the comfort of the couple whose
-acquaintance she had so strangely made.
-
-Joshua was always certain of a warm welcome from Basil and Minnie; an
-affectionate intimacy had sprung up between them, and he had spent
-many a pleasant hour in their company. But in the first flush of their
-intimacy he had been sorely puzzled by Basil Kindred's strange ways
-and oft-times stranger remarks; the wandering restlessness of his
-eyes, and the no less wandering nature of his speech, engendered grave
-doubts whether he was quite right in his mind. And as Joshua looked
-from Basil's fine mobile face to that of his daughter, so like her
-father's in all its grand and beautiful outlines, it distressed him to
-think that her intellect also might be tainted with her father's
-disease. It might not be; it might be merely the want of proper moral
-training that induced her to be so strangely incoherent, so reckless
-and defiant, and yet at the same time so singularly tender in her
-conduct. With Minnie every thing was right or wrong according to the
-way in which it affected herself. She recognized no general law as
-guiding such and such a principle or sentiment. There was this
-similarity and this difference between Minnie and Susan: they both
-ignored the world's opinion and the world's judgment of their actions.
-But where Susan would be meek, Minnie would be defiant; where Susan
-would offend through ignorance, Minnie would offend consciously, and
-be at the same time ready to justify herself and argue the point;
-which latter she would do, of course, only from her point of view.
-Supposing that it could be reduced to weights and measures, Minnie
-would have been content to place herself and her affections on one
-side of the scale, and all the world on the other, with the positive
-conviction that she would tip the scale.
-
-She was very affectionate and docile to Joshua; she looked up to him
-with a kind of adoration, and this tacit acknowledgment of his
-superiority was pleasing to his vanity. He was her hero, and she
-worshipped him, and showed that she did so; and he, too, dangerously
-regarding her as a child, received her worship, and was gratified by
-it. And so she drifted.
-
-Now as he entered the room, Minnie sprang towards him with a joyous
-exclamation, and taking his hand, held it tightly clasped in hers as
-she led him to a seat. The room was not so bare of furniture as it was
-when he first saw it. He looked round for Basil Kindred.
-
-"Father is not at home, Joshua," said Minnie. "He will be in soon, I
-dare say." She pushed him softly into a chair, and sat on the ground
-at his feet. "I am so glad you have come!"
-
-"But I don't think I have time to stay."
-
-"You mustn't go; you mustn't go," said Minnie, drawing his arm round
-her neck. "I shall be so lonely if you do."
-
-"But you were alone before I came in, Minnie."
-
-"Yes," returned Minnie; "but I did not feel lonely then. I shall now,
-if you go away."
-
-"Then I will stop for a little while," said Joshua, humoring her.
-
-"Always good!" said Minnie gratefully, resting her lips upon her hand,
-"always good!"
-
-"Why did you not feel lonely before I came, Minnie?"
-
-"I was thinking."
-
-"Of what?"
-
-"Of long, long ago, when father was different to what he is now."
-
-"It could not have been so long, long ago, little Minnie,"--here came
-a little caressing action from the child,--"you are only--how old?"
-
-"Fourteen."
-
-"And fourteen years ago is not so long, long ago, little Minnie."
-
-Minnie repeated her caressing action.
-
-"To you it isn't perhaps, but it is to me. It seems almost," she said,
-placing Joshua's hand upon her eyes, and closing them, "as if I had
-nothing to do with it. Yet I must have had; for mother was mixed up
-with what I was thinking.
-
-"But I shall think of something else now that you are here," she said
-presently. "I am going to listen."
-
-With the hand that was free she took something from her pocket, and
-placing it to her ear, bent her head closer to the ground. She was so
-long in that attitude of watchful silence, that Joshua cried "Minnie"
-to arouse her.
-
-"Hush!" she said; "you must not interrupt me. I am listening. I can
-almost hear it speak."
-
-"Hear what speak?" asked Joshua, wondering.
-
-Minnie directed his fingers to her ear, and he felt something smooth
-and cold.
-
-"It is a shell," she said softly, "and I am listening to the sea."
-
-"Ah," said Joshua in a voice as soft as hers, "that is because I am
-going to be a sailor."
-
-"For that reason. Yes. Call me little Minnie."
-
-"Little Minnie!" said Joshua tenderly; for Minnie's voice and manner
-were very winsome, and he could not help thinking how quaintly pretty
-her fancy was.
-
-"Little Minnie, little Minnie!" whispered Minnie in so soft a tone
-that Joshua could scarcely hear it,--"little Minnie, little Minnie!
-The sea is singing it. How kind the sea is! and how soft and gentle I
-should like to go to sleep like this."
-
-"Does the shell sing any thing else, little Minnie?"
-
-"Listen! Ah, but you cannot hear! It is singing, 'Little Minnie,
-little Minnie, Joshua is going to be a sailor. Little Minnie, little
-Minnie, would you like to go with him?'"
-
-"And you answer?"
-
-"Yes, yes, yes! I should like to go with him, and hear the sea always
-singing like this. I should like to go with him because"--But here
-Minnie stopped.
-
-"Because what?"
-
-"Because nothing," said Minnie, taking the shell from her ear. "Now
-the sea is gone, and the singing is gone, and we are waiting at home
-for father."
-
-"What for, Minnie? What am I waiting at home for father for?"
-
-"To see him of course," answered Minnie.
-
-"And to wish him and you good-by," said Joshua.
-
-"Good-by!" echoed the child, with a sudden look of distress in her
-large gray eyes. "So soon!"
-
-"Yes. My ship sails to-morrow."
-
-"And this is the last day we shall see you," she said, her tears
-falling upon his hand.
-
-"The last day for a little while, little Minnie," he said, striving to
-speak cheerfully.
-
-"For how long?" asked the child, bending her head, so that her fair
-hair fell over her face.
-
-"For a year, perhaps, Minnie," he answered.
-
-"For a long, long year," she said sorrowfully. "You will not do as
-mother did, will you?"
-
-"How was that?"
-
-"She went away from us one afternoon, and was to come back at night.
-And it rained--oh, so dreadfully!--that night. We were lodging under
-some trees, father, mother, and I. Father was ill--very ill, but not
-with the same kind of illness that he has now sometimes. He had a
-fever. And mother went into the town to get something for us to
-eat--as you did that night when the bad boys threw a stone at father,
-and you brought him home. When father woke we went in search of her.
-But I never remember seeing mother again. And you are going away, and
-perhaps I shall never see you again."
-
-"What does the shell say, Minnie?"
-
-Minnie placed the shell to her ear.
-
-"I cannot make out any thing," she said in a voice of pain. "It isn't
-singing now; it is moaning and sighing."
-
-He took the shell and listened.
-
-"It will speak to me, because I am a sailor."
-
-"And it says?" asked Minnie anxiously.
-
-"And it says--no, it sings--'Little Minnie, little Minnie, Joshua is
-going to sea, and Joshua will come back, please God, in a year, with
-beautiful shells and wonderful stories for you and all his friends.
-So, little Minnie, little Minnie, look happy; for there is nothing to
-be sorrowful at.'"
-
-"Ah!" said Minnie in less sorrowful tones, "if I was a woman and loved
-anybody very much, I would not let him go away by himself."
-
-"Why, what would you do?"
-
-"I would follow him." And she pulled Joshua's head down to hers, and
-whispered, "I should like to go to sea with you."
-
-"Would you indeed, miss!"
-
-"Yes; for I love you, oh, so much!" whispered the child innocently in
-the same low tones. "But you wouldn't let me go, would you?"
-
-"I should think not. A nice sailor you would make; a weak little thing
-like you!"
-
-The girl sprang from her crouching attitude, and stood upright. As she
-did so, expressing in her action what her meaning was, Joshua noticed
-for the first time that she was growing to be large-limbed and strong.
-She tossed her hair from her face, and said,--
-
-"Father says I shall be a tall woman."
-
-"Well?"
-
-"Well," she repeated half-proudly and half-bashfully. "I should not
-make such a bad sailor, after all." And then with a motion thoroughly
-childlike, she knelt on the ground before him; and placing her elbows
-on his knees, rested her chin in her upturned palms, and looked
-steadily into his face. "If I was a woman," she said slowly and
-earnestly, "I would go with you, even if you would not let me."
-
-"How would you manage that?"
-
-"I would follow you secretly."
-
-"You must not say so," said Joshua reprovingly; "it would be very,
-very wrong."
-
-"To follow any one you loved?" questioned the child, shaking her head
-at the same time to denote that she had no doubt whether it would be
-right or wrong. "Wrong to wish to be with any one you loved? It
-would be wrong not to wish it. But"--and she looked round, as if
-fearful, although they were alone, lest her resolution should become
-known--"nobody should know; I would not tell a living soul."
-
-Joshua was silent, puzzled at Minnie's earnestness. Minnie, with the
-shell at her ear, soon broke the silence, however.
-
-"Has your friend--the boy you have told me about"--
-
-"Dan?"
-
-"Yes, Dan. Has Dan got a shell?"
-
-"No. I don't suppose he ever thought of it."
-
-"And yet he loves you very much, and a shell is the only thing that
-can bring the sea to him."
-
-"Who gave you the shell, Minnie?"
-
-"No one."
-
-"How did you get it, then?"
-
-"I took it from a stall."
-
-"O Minnie!" exclaimed Joshua, grieved and shocked; "that was very
-wicked."
-
-"I know it was," said Minnie simply; "but I did it for you. Two days
-afterwards, when father had money given to him, I asked him for some,
-and he gave it me. I went to the stall where the shells were, and
-asked the man how much each they were. 'A penny,' he said. I gave him
-two pence and ran away. That was good, wasn't it?"
-
-Joshua shook his head.
-
-"It was very wicked to steal the shell; and I don't think you made up
-for it by paying double when you got the money."
-
-But Minnie set her teeth close, and said between them, "It was wicked
-at first, but it wasn't wicked afterwards, was it, shell?"--She
-listened with a coaxing air to the shell's reply.--"The shell says it
-wasn't'. Besides, I did it for you; Dan wouldn't have done it."
-
-"No, that he wouldn't."
-
-"Shows he doesn't love you as much as I do," muttered Minnie with
-jealous intonation. "If he did, he would have thought of a shell, and
-would have got it somehow. If he did, he would go with you, and would
-never, never leave you!"
-
-"Now, Minnie, listen to me."
-
-"I am listening, Joshua." She would have taken his hand; but he put it
-behind his back, and motioned her to be still. She knew by his voice
-that something unpleasant was coming, and she set her teeth close.
-
-"You know that it is wrong to steal, and you stole the shell."
-
-"I did it for you," she said doggedly. "That does not make it right,
-Minnie. I want you to give me a promise."
-
-"I will promise you any thing but one thing," she said.
-
-"What is that."
-
-"Never mind. You would never guess, so you will never ask me. What am
-I to promise?"
-
-"That you will never steal any thing again."
-
-"Do you think I ever stole any thing but the shell, then?" she asked,
-with an air that would have been stern in its pride if she had not
-been a child.
-
-It was on the tip of Joshua's tongue to say, "I don't know what to
-think;" but her manner of putting the question gave the answer to it.
-"No," he said instead, "I don't think you ever did, Minnie."
-
-Her head was stubbornly bent; and she had enough to do to keep back
-her tears. She would not have succeeded had his answer been different.
-
-"No, I never stole any thing else. Stole is the proper word, I know;
-but it is a nasty one, and makes me ashamed."
-
-"That is your punishment, Minnie," said Joshua, wondering at himself
-for his tenaciousness.
-
-"That is my punishment, then," said Minnie not less doggedly than
-before; "but I did it for you"--nothing would drive her from that
-stand-point--"and I promise you, Joshua, that I will never steal any
-thing again--never, never!"
-
-He gave her his hand, and she took it and caressed it.
-
-"And now, Minnie, about Dan," he said. "You must not say or think any
-thing ill of him. He is the best-hearted and the dearest friend in the
-world; and I cannot tell you how much I love him, or how much he loves
-me."
-
-"Why doesn't he go to sea with you, then?"
-
-Joshua looked at her reproachfully.
-
-"Your memory is not good, Minnie. He is lame, as I told you."
-
-"I forgot. He can't go because he is lame. Would he go if his legs
-were sound?"
-
-"I think he would."
-
-"Don't think," Minnie said, with a sly look at him; "be sure."
-
-"I am sure he would then."
-
-"Caught!" cried Minnie, clapping her hands, the sly look, in which
-there was simplicity, changing to a cunning one, in which there was
-craft. "Caught, caught, caught!"
-
-"I should like to know how," said Joshua. "How ridiculous of you,
-Minnie, to cry 'Caught!' as if I was a fox!"
-
-"No, I am the fox," she cried, shaking her hair over her face with
-enchanting grace. "I am in hiding--just peeping round the corner." She
-made an opening in her thick hair, and flashed a look at him; a look
-that was saucy, and cunning, and charming, and wilful, all at once.
-"Am I a good fox?"
-
-"You are a goose. Tell me how I am caught."
-
-"Listen, then," throwing her hair back, and becoming logical. "Dan
-loves you as well as any man or woman could love another, you said."
-
-"Did I say as well? I thought I said better. I meant better."
-
-"That's no matter. Dan loves you,"--she held up her left hand, and
-checked off the items on her fingers--"that is one finger. And Dan
-would go to sea with you; and it would be right, because he loves
-you--that is two fingers. But Dan can't go because he is lame--that is
-three fingers. Now I love you, and I am not lame--that is four
-fingers. And it would not be wrong in me to follow you--and that is my
-thumb, the largest reason of all. So you are caught, caught, caught,
-you see."
-
-"I do not see," said Joshua in a very decided voice. "Dan is a boy,
-and you are a girl; and what is right for a boy to do is often wrong
-for a girl. I do not see that I am caught."
-
-But Minnie had relinquished the argument. She was satisfied that she
-was right.
-
-"And you would really be very angry with me if I did it?" she asked.
-
-"I should be very angry with you now, Minnie, if it were not that you
-were a stupid little girl, just a trifle too fond of talking nonsense.
-Such nonsense, too! Why, there's Ellen, Dan's sister, _she_ wouldn't
-talk so."
-
-All the brightness went out of Minnie's face, and a dark cloud was
-there instead.
-
-Joshua noticed it with surprise. He took her hand gently; but she
-snatched it away.
-
-"Ellen would not behave like that," he said; "she is too mild and
-gentle." There came into his mind what he had said to Dan of the two
-girls--that Ellen was like a lake, and Minnie like the sea; and he
-thought how true it was. "It would do you good to know her."
-
-"I don't want to know her," said Minnie sullenly, "and I don't want to
-be done good to."
-
-"I didn't think you would be cross-tempered on my last day at home,"
-said Joshua in a grave and gentle voice. He paused, as if expecting
-her to speak; but she remained silent. "Ah, well," he said, rising, "I
-shall go and see if I can find your father."
-
-She jumped up and walked with him to the door.
-
-"Say that you are not angry with me," she said in a voice of the
-softest pleading, raising her face to his.
-
-He would have made a different reply, but he saw that her face was
-covered with tears.
-
-"Angry with you!" he said kindly. "Who could be angry with you for
-long, little Minnie?"
-
-She smiled gratefully and thoughtfully as he kissed her; and when he
-had gone, and she had heard his last footstep, she returned to her old
-place upon the floor, and crouching down, placed the shell to her ear,
-and listened to the singing of the sea.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X.
-GOOD-BY.
-
-
-Minnie's obliviousness of what was right had never before been
-presented so clearly to Joshua. He knew well enough that Minnie,
-although she was aware that it was wrong to steal, could not
-understand that she did wrong in stealing the shell. At the same time
-he could not help feeling tenderly towards her because of that wrong
-action. After all, how much she was to be pitied! Could it be wondered
-at that she was hard to teach, and that she was wayward and wilful,
-living such a lonely life as she lived, with no friend to counsel, no
-mother to guide her? How quaint was her fancy, and what a pretty thing
-it was to see her as he saw her in his imaginings--sitting alone in
-her room, with the shell at her ear, listening to the singing of the
-sea! With what a daintily-caressing motion she nestled to him when he
-called her "Little Minnie!" He repeated the pet words to himself,
-"Little Minnie, little Minnie!" as he walked along, and smiled. As for
-her telling him that she would like to go to sea with him, what was it
-but a childish whimsey? If he had not contradicted her, and made a
-matter of importance of it, she would have said it, and there an end.
-She would like to go to sea with him, and would follow him if she were
-a woman: Well! she was but a child, and the wish was as innocent as
-her declaration that she loved him.
-
-When he had thought out all this, he thought of to-morrow, and looked
-round upon the familiar streets and the familiar houses with a pang of
-regret. To-morrow he would be far away from them, and every succeeding
-day would take him farther and farther away from them and all that he
-loved. From mother, father, the Old Sailor, his pet birds, and from
-Dan--ah! dear, dear Dan! Did ever boy or man have such a friend? Then
-there was Ellen, his dear little sweetheart in the days when they were
-children together. Was there ever such another unselfish little maid
-as that? So devoted, so tender, so loving! How quickly she had won
-the heart of the Old Sailor! He remembered that old salt saying,
-pointing his great finger at Ellen as he said it, "Joshua, my lad,
-that little lass there is the prettiest, the best, the truest and the
-kindest-hearted in these dominions." And he remembered himself looking
-at Ellen's mild face--peaceful as a lake--and saying, "So she is,
-sir," and meaning it heartily; and he remembered the Old Sailor
-saying, "That's right, my lad; all you've got to do is to mind your
-bearings." Although he had answered, "Yes, sir, I will," he wondered
-afterwards, and he found himself wondering now, what on earth the Old
-Sailor meant by saying, "Mind your bearings." But what matter? Ellen
-_was_ the prettiest, the best, the truest, and the kindest-hearted
-lass in these or any other dominions. God bless her!
-
-As he thought of these things, he felt himself growing so
-soft-hearted, that he stopped and stamped his feet upon the pavement,
-and thumped himself upon the chest, saying as he did so, between
-laughing and crying, "This won't do, Josh; this won't do."
-
-He had given himself a score of thumps, and had said, "This won't do,
-Josh," half-a-score of times, when loud cries for help fell upon
-his ears. He had been walking in the direction of the river, through
-some of the streets where he would be most likely to find Basil
-Kindred; and he was in a locality where there was a number of low
-public-houses, patronized by the worst class of seamen. Turning in the
-direction of the cry, Joshua saw a woman run swiftly out of a narrow
-thoroughfare. Pursuing her was a man, a dark-looking fellow, with
-glittering eyes, and rings in his ears, and a knife in his hand, and
-with all his copper-colored fingers and black-serpent locks of hair
-flashing in the air with evil intent. Impelled by the unmistakable air
-of terror in the form of the flying girl, and the unmistakable air of
-mischief in the form of the pursuing man--partly, also, by the
-impulsion born of the hunting spirit implanted in man and beast,
-Joshua started off at a great pace, and flew after the flying couple.
-
-It was that part of the day when the neighborhood was most quiet. All
-the men were at work in the dockyards, and the few women about (having
-a wholesome horror probably of a man with an open knife in his hand,
-and being perhaps accustomed to such diversions) seemed disinclined to
-take part in the chase. With the exception of one drunken creature,
-with a blotched and bloated face, who made a frantic motion to follow,
-but being tripped up by her draggling petticoats, stumbled, more like
-a heap of rags than a woman, into the gutter, Where she lay growling
-indistinctly.
-
-The flying woman and the pursuing man were fleet of foot, but Joshua
-was younger and more nimble than they. As he gained upon them, a dim
-consciousness stole upon him that he knew them; and, as he approached
-nearer, the doubt grew into conviction. The almost breathless woman,
-throwing affrighted looks behind her, as if a dozen men were pursuing
-her instead of one, was Susan; and the evil-looking man who was bent
-on running her down was the Lascar who served the Old Sailor, and who
-cooked for him, and would have poisoned him for rum and tobacco. Some
-other than those, the ruling cravings of his existence, influenced him
-now. All the passions of love and hate, and the desire to achieve his
-purpose by striking terror, were expressed in every motion of every
-limb: they were so eloquent and earnest in the savage pursuit that
-they seemed to proclaim their owner's intention, as he raced after the
-panting girl.
-
-He was almost upon her, and she felt his ugly lips reeking their
-detestable flavor of rum and tobacco upon her neck, when Joshua,
-coming up to him, seized him by the throat. He had been so savagely
-vindictive in the pursuit, that Joshua's hand upon his throat was the
-first indication he received that he was being himself pursued; but,
-wasting no look upon his pursuer, he slipped from Joshua like an
-eel--his neck was redolent of grease--and with an inarticulate cry of
-rage and baffled lust, he sprang after Susan again, who had gained a
-few steps by Joshua's ineffectual interposition. But Susan, thoroughly
-bewildered and terrified, turned into a blind alley, and perceiving
-that there was no thoroughfare, and that she was trapped, fell upon
-the rough stones, prostrate from fear and exhaustion.
-
-On one side of the blind alley were four or five houses, in which no
-signs of life were visible. They seemed stricken to death by disease.
-On the other side was a black dead wall, which shut out the sky.
-Before the Lascar could reach Susan--what the man's intention was, or
-what he would have done in his wild fury, he, being more beast than
-man, might probably not have been able to explain--Joshua had knocked
-the knife out of his hand, and had knocked him down with a blow, the
-force of which astonished Joshua himself, even in the midst of his
-excitement. Almost before Joshua could realize what had occurred, the
-cowardly Lascar was crouching by the side of the dead wall, as if his
-lair were there, and Joshua was on his knee assisting Susan to recover
-herself; keeping a wary look, however, upon the knife, which was lying
-in the road at an equal distance from him and the Lascar. The Lascar
-saw it too--saw it without looking at it, and without seeming to see
-it. A surprising change had taken place in him. A minute since a
-volcano of delirious lust was raging in his breast, and every nerve in
-his body was quivering with dangerous passion; now, as if by magic, he
-was coiled up like a snake, with no motion of life in him but the
-quiet glitter of his eyes, which watched every thing, but seemed to
-watch nothing.
-
-"What is it all about, Susan?" asked Joshua in wonderment, after a
-pause. But, before Susan could reply, a crawling motion on the part of
-the Lascar towards the knife caused Joshua to spring into the road.
-The snake had no chance with the panther. The Lascar was knocked back
-to his position by the dead wall, and Joshua stood over him grasping
-the knife. This was the most eventful transaction that had ever
-occurred to Joshua; and, as he stood over his antagonist palming the
-knife, a strange sensation of pride in his own strength tingled
-through his veins. There was blood upon the Lascar's face; Joshua had
-struck him so fiercely as to loosen one of his teeth--so decidedly to
-loosen it, that the Lascar put his finger into his mouth and drew it
-out. He said nothing, however, but kept the tooth clasped in his
-hand.
-
-"You black devil!" exclaimed Joshua, gazing upon the crouching figure
-with a kind of loathing amazement. "What do you mean by all this?"
-
-The Lascar wiped the blood from his mouth with his sleeve, and shaking
-the hair from his eyes, threw upon Joshua a covert look of deadly
-malice--a look expressive of a bloody-minded craving to have Joshua
-helpless on the stones beneath him, that he might press the life out
-of his enemy. His eye spoke, but his tongue uttered no word. Raging
-inwardly as he was with bad passion, he had sufficient control over
-himself to suppress any spoken manifestation of it. But his attitude
-and demeanor were not less dangerous for all that.
-
-"He follows me everywhere," said Susan, still gasping and panting for
-breath. "He dogs me by day and by night. He waylays me in the dark,
-and I can hardly get away from him."
-
-"What for?" demanded Joshua, with his eye upon the Lascar, who was
-sitting cunningly quiet, nursing his wounded mouth.
-
-"I don't know," replied Susan, with an appalled look over her
-shoulder, as if she were haunted by a fear that the spirit of the
-Lascar was there, notwithstanding that he was crouching before her in
-the ugly flesh. "I am afraid to think."
-
-"Afraid! in broad daylight!"
-
-"Day or night it is all the same," moaned Susan. "Whenever he sees me,
-he dogs me till I am ready to die. You don't know his power--you don't
-know his power!"
-
-"What were you doing before I saw you?"
-
-"I was looking for some one."
-
-"For whom?"
-
-"For Mr. Kindred," with a curious hesitation.
-
-"For Mr. Kindred!" exclaimed Joshua, more amazed than ever; "why for
-him?"
-
-"He is ill. I will tell you about it by and by," replied Susan
-nervously. "I thought I should find him in this neighborhood, and
-while I was looking for him, he"--pointing to the Lascar with a
-shudder--"he saw me and spoke to me, and would not leave me--wanted me
-to go with him and drink with him, and when I refused, he seized me,
-and then--then--I scratched him--and--I don't remember any thing more,
-except that I was afraid he wanted to kill me."
-
-Joshua looked up at the Lascar's face, and observed the scratch for
-the first time. It was a long scratch downwards from the eye to the
-wounded mouth. The Lascar made no attempt to hide it, but sat still,
-with his hand on his mouth.
-
-"Serve you right, you black dog!" exclaimed Joshua. "What do you mean
-by dogging her? What do you mean by following her with a knife? Why,
-you Lascar dog, for two pins"--he raised his hand indignantly, and
-advanced a step towards the Lascar, who made a shrinking movement
-backwards, although in truth he could not get nearer to the dead wall
-than he was already.
-
-"Don't, Joshua, don't!" cried Susan, seizing his arm, and clinging to
-him imploringly. "Don't touch him, for God's sake, or"--with another
-scared look behind her--"he'll haunt you as he haunts me."
-
-A taunting wicked smile crossed the Lascar's lips, but it was gone a
-moment afterwards. It might have been the shadow of an evil thought
-finding expression there.
-
-"How does he haunt you more than you have already told me he does?"
-demanded Joshua in a great heat. "You don't think he can frighten me
-as he frightens you, Susan, do you? The black dog! Look at him! He's
-frightened of a white man's little finger!"
-
-"Hush!" implored Susan. "He haunts me when he is not near me."
-
-"How can he do that, you foolish girl?"
-
-"He does it--he _can_ do it--with his double!"
-
-"His double?"
-
-"He has a double--a spirit, a wicked spirit"--she turned her head
-slowly and trembled in every limb; "and he told me it should haunt me,
-and follow me wherever I go. And it does! I feel it behind me when I
-don't see him. It is there now! It is there now!" And wrought to the
-highest pitch of mental terror and excitement, Susan threw up her
-hands, and would have fallen to the ground but for Joshua's protecting
-arm.
-
-The taunting smile came again upon the Lascar's lips, as he secretly
-watched Susan's terror. With a special maliciousness he flashed his
-fingers towards her, as if he were issuing a command to his double not
-to leave her. It was evidence of the power he possessed over her weak
-mind that, notwithstanding her almost fainting condition, a stronger
-shuddering came upon her when he made even that slight motion.
-
-Feeling that, for Susan's sake, it was necessary to put an end to the
-scene, Joshua, with an indignant motion, commanded the Lascar to leave
-them. The Lascar rose submissively, like a whipped dog, and so stood
-with bent head before Joshua.
-
-"Now then, what are you waiting for?" asked Joshua.
-
-"My knife," answered the Lascar doggedly.
-
-"Not likely," said Joshua; "I know you too well to let you have it."
-
-"What do you know of me?" asked the Lascar in a low guttural voice.
-
-"I have heard enough of you from Mr. Meddler"--the Lascar grated his
-teeth with tigerish ferocity--"you and the likes of you. I know how
-free you are with your knives, you Lascars, on land and on sea. Be
-off!"
-
-"My knife!" again demanded the Lascar, with his eyes directed to
-Joshua's feet; but he saw Joshua's face and every motion of Joshua's
-body. "My knife! It is mine. I bought it and paid for it."
-
-"Stole it more likely," said Joshua with a sneer.
-
-"It is a lie. I bought it. Even if I did steal it, you have no right
-to it. Give me my knife, and let me go."
-
-"Joshua reflected. Clearly he had no just claim to the man's knife,
-and had no right to retain it. His mind was soon made up. Releasing
-his hold of Susan, he placed the blade beneath his foot, and broke it
-off close to the handle. Then he threw the handle and the blade over
-the Lascar's head. A dangerous fire gleamed in the man's downcast eyes
-and a cold-blooded grating of teeth came from his mouth. He stood
-silent for a few moments, with his hands tightly pressed, striving to
-master the devil that was raging within him. But he could not restrain
-his passion.
-
-"Curse you!" he hissed; "I owe you something; I will pay it you, by
-hell!"
-
-He crouched to receive the blow which he expected Joshua would give
-him, in return for his curse. But no blow was given nor intended; yet
-he quivered as if he had been struck before he spoke again.
-
-"See you!" he cried; "I never forget--never--never! My turn will come.
-You called me black devil"--
-
-"So you are," said Joshua scornfully. "And black dog--dog of a
-Lascar!"
-
-"So you are."
-
-"You shall pay for it! If it is years before I can pay you, you shall
-be paid for it! See you--remember!" With all his fingers menacingly,
-as if each was possessed with a distinct will, and was swearing
-vengeance against Joshua. "Your life shall pay for it--more than your
-life shall pay for it!" He spat upon the ground and trod savagely upon
-the spittle. "I mark you--see!" With his forefinger he marked a cross
-in the air. "I put this cross against you--curse you!"
-
-Susan, gazing on with sight terror-fixed, saw the infuriated man stamp
-upon the stones, as if he had Joshua's life-blood beneath his foot,
-and then saw the cross marked in the air. The fire of her fevered
-imagination gave red color to the shadowy lines; and when the Lascar
-lowered his forefinger, she saw the recorded cross standing
-unsupported in the air--a cross of bright red blood. Fascinated, she
-gazed until the bright color faded into two dusky lines, and so
-remained. Joshua laughed lightly at the vindictive action and the
-curse; yet he did not feel quite at his ease.
-
-"Come, Susan," he said, "let us be going."
-
-But Susan did not move. Every sense was absorbed in watching the
-dreadful cross and the Lascar's passion-distorted face. He, stooping
-to pick up the handle of the knife and the broken blade, turned again
-upon Joshua, and remained faithful to his theme.
-
-"Don't forget," he said in his low, bad voice, the words coming slowly
-from a throat almost choked with passion. "By this"--placing his hand
-upon his wounded mouth--"and these"--holding up the pieces of the
-knife--"I will keep you in mind. If it is to-morrow, or next week, or
-next month, you shall be paid! The dog of a Lascar never forgets! See
-you--remember!"
-
-"Storm away," said Joshua, drawing Susan aside to allow the Lascar to
-pass. "You will have to be very quick about it, for to-morrow I go to
-sea."
-
-"You do, eh!" exclaimed the Lascar, with another harsh grating of his
-teeth, and stopping suddenly in his course. "See you now--take this
-with you for my good-by!" With a swift motion, he cut his finger with
-the broken blade, and shook the blood at Joshua. It fell in a sprinkle
-over his clothes, and a drop plashed into his face. The Lascar saw it,
-and laughed. "Take that with you for luck!" he cried. "By that mark I
-shall live to pay you, and you will live to be paid!"
-
-So saying, he turned and fled. Joshua sprang after him, but the man
-was out of sight in a minute. Returning to Susan, Joshua found her
-sitting upon the pavement, nursing her knees and sobbing
-distressfully.
-
-"O Josh!" she cried, "it is a bad omen."
-
-"Not at all," said Joshua, cooling down a little, and wiping the spot
-of blood from his face. "What does the old proverb say? 'Curses always
-come home to roost.' Do you hear me?"
-
-It was evident that she did not; her fright was still strong upon her.
-With a shrinking movement of her head, she looked slowly round, and
-clutching Joshua's hand, whispered, "For pity's sake, don't let him
-come near me! Hold me tight! Keep close to me! He is not gone!"
-
-With a firm and gentle force, Joshua compelled her to stand upright.
-
-"There is no one here but you and I," he said, in a firm voice. "You
-are letting your fancies make a baby of you. There is no one here but
-you and I. If you will not believe what I say--I can see, I suppose,
-and I am calm, while you are in a regular fever--if you will not
-believe what I say, I shall leave you."
-
-"No, no!" she cried, clinging to him.
-
-He compelled her to walk two or three times up and down the court. His
-decided action calmed her. She gave vent to a sigh of relief, and
-wiped her eyes.
-
-"That's right," said Joshua as they walked out of the court. "Now I
-can tell you that I am glad I have met you. I join my ship to-morrow."
-
-"I had no idea you were going away so soon."
-
-"I am going now to see if Mr. Kindred is at home."
-
-"I live in the same house as he does," she said, looking timidly at
-Joshua.
-
-"That is strange. Are you and he intimate?"
-
-"Yes. They are poor, you know, Joshua."
-
-"So are you, Susey."
-
-"But I can help them a little. He's often ill, and Minnie isn't strong
-enough to take care of him, and so I nurse him sometimes. Minnie and I
-are great friends."
-
-When they arrived at Basil Kindred's poor lodging, Minnie met them at
-the door. With her finger to her lips, she motioned them to be quiet.
-
-"Tread softly," she whispered; "father has come home, and is lying
-down."
-
-They walked to the bed, and saw Basil Kindred lying on the bed in
-unquiet sleep. Susan placed her hand on his hot forehead, and said,--
-
-"I have been afraid of this for a long time, Josh. He has got a fever.
-What would he do without me now?"
-
-There was a touch of pride in her voice as she asked the question. The
-pride arose from the conviction that the man she loved really needed
-her help, and from the knowledge that she could make some little
-sacrifice for him.
-
-"He is very, very ill, I think," whispered Minnie.
-
-"We will make him well between us, Minnie," said Susan.
-
-Al! the fears by which she was assailed but a few minutes since were
-gone. Joshua was glad to see that, at all events.
-
-Minnie took Susan's hand gratefully, and kissed it.
-
-"She has been so good to us, Joshua," she said.
-
-Susan's eyes kindled, and she directed to Joshua a look which said,
-"Have I not done right in coming to live here? See how useful I can
-be, and how happy I am!"
-
-"I shall tell them at home where you live, Susey," said Joshua.
-
-"Very well. Give my love to Dan."
-
-Joshua nodded, and bent over Basil Kindred. The action disturbed the
-sleeping man. He seized Joshua's wrist in his burning hand, and said,
-in a trembling voice, "She died in my arms, and the earth was her bed.
-The stars were ashamed to look upon her. Well they might be! Well they
-might be!"
-
-"He is speaking of his wife," said Susan softly to Joshua. "He loved
-her very dearly, and would have died for her. When she died, his heart
-almost broke."
-
-Sympathy and devotion made her voice like sweet music. Joshua looked
-at her with a feeling of wonder, and was amazed at the change that had
-come over her. An hour ago, she was crouching in drivelling terror,
-overpowered by absurd fancies; now she moved about cheerfully, strong
-in her purpose of love. But he had never in all his life seen her as
-he saw her now. He bade her good-by, and she wished him Godspeed, and
-kissed him. Minnie accompanied him to the door.
-
-"Good-by, dear little Minnie," he said.
-
-"Good-by," she said, with tears in her voice. "You forgive me, don t
-you, for what I said this afternoon?"
-
-"Yes, my dear."
-
-"Ah! I like to hear you speak like that; it sounds sweet and good.
-Say, 'I forgive you, little Minnie.'"
-
-"But I haven't any thing to forgive, now I come to think of it."
-
-"Yes, you have. You say that out of your good nature. You mustn't go
-away and leave me to think that you are angry with me."
-
-"I am not angry with you, Minnie. After all, what you did, you did
-through love, and there could not be much wrong in it."
-
-The brightest of bright expressions stole into her face, and she
-clasped her hands with joy.
-
-"Say that again, Joshua, word for word, as you said it just now."
-
-"What you did, you did through love," repeated Joshua to please her,
-"and there could not be much wrong in it."
-
-"O Joshua!" she cried, pressing her hands to her face, "you have made
-me almost quite happy. I have heard father say the same thing, but in
-different words. Now I shall follow you to sea. Yes, I shall, with
-this," holding up her shell. "To-morrow night, and every night that
-you are at sea, I shall listen to my shell and think of you."
-
-"Stupid little Minnie," he said affectionately.
-
-"And you will come back in a year?"
-
-"I hope so, please God."
-
-"Then I shall be growing quite a woman," she said thoughtfully.
-
-The next moment she raised her face quickly to his. The tears were
-streaming down it. As he bent to her, she caught him round the neck,
-and kissed him once, twice, thrice, with more than the passionate
-affection, but with all the innocence, of a child. Then she ran into
-the house; and Joshua, taking that as a farewell, walked slowly
-homewards, to go through the hardest trial of all.
-
-
-That hardest trial through which he had to go awaited him at home. All
-the members of the Marvel family, and Dan and Ellen Taylor, were
-assembled together in the old familiar kitchen. They were all of them
-sad at heart, and made themselves sadder by vain little attempts to be
-cheerful. The tea was a very silent affair, and the two or three extra
-delicacies provided by Mrs. Marvel--as if it were a feast they were
-sitting down to--were failures. The most remarkable feature about the
-tea was the pretence they all made to eat and drink a great deal, and
-the miserableness of the result. They pretended to accomplish
-prodigies, and handed about the bread-and-butter and the cake very
-industriously, as if it were each person's duty to be mightily anxious
-about every other person's appetite, and to utterly ignore his own.
-But every thing in the way of eating and drinking was a mistake. The
-bread-and-butter was disregarded, and was taken away in disgrace; the
-cake was slighted, and retired in dudgeon. It was a relief when the
-tea-things were cleared. Mrs. Marvel was the bravest of the party; she
-who had so strongly protested against Joshua's going to sea, did all
-she could to administer little crumbs of comfort to every one of them,
-and especially to her husband, who had so heartily encouraged Joshua
-not to do as his father had done before him, but who was now the most
-outwardly miserable person in the kitchen. Thus, Mrs. Marvel sang
-snatches of songs, and bustled about as if she really enjoyed Joshua's
-going, and was glad to get rid of him. When she had accomplished a
-good deal of nothing, she rose and did nothing else; and when that was
-done, she sat down and remonstrated with her good man, and would even
-have rejoiced if she could have worried him into blowing her up.
-
-"Don't take on so, George," she said; "you ought to be cheerful
-to-night of all nights. What is the use of fretting? Joshua's going to
-make a man of himself, and to do good for all of us--ain't you, my
-dear?"
-
-"I intend it, mother, you may be sure."
-
-"Of course you do; and here is father in the dumps when he ought to be
-up in the skies."
-
-"Some day, I hope," said George Marvel, mustering up spirit to have
-his joke in the midst of his sadness; "not just now, though. I want to
-see what sort of a figure Josh will cut in the world first. Give me my
-pipe, Maggie."
-
-Mrs. Marvel made a great fuss in getting the pipe, knocking down a
-chair, and clattering things about, and humming a verse of her
-favorite song, "Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses;" and really made matters
-a little less sad by her bustle. Then, instead of handing her husband
-the pipe without moving from her seat, as she might have done, she
-made a sweep round the table, and pinched Ellen's cheek, and patted
-Dan on the head, and wiped her eyes on the sly, and kissed Joshua, and
-so worked her way to George Marvel, and put the pipe between his lips.
-
-"You are as active as a girl, Maggie," said George Marvel, putting his
-arm round her waist, and gently detaining her by his side.
-
-She looked down into his eyes, and for the life of her could not help
-the tears gathering in her own. She made no further attempts to be
-cheerful; and what little conversation was indulged in occurred
-between long intervals of silence. They had an early supper; for
-Joshua was to rise at daybreak. When supper was over, George Marvel
-took out the Bible, and in an impressive voice read from it the one
-hundred and seventh Psalm. They all stood round the table with bent
-heads, Joshua standing between his mother and Dan, clasping a hand of
-each. Very solemn was George Marvel's voice when he came to the
-twenty-third verse:--
-
-
- "They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great
- waters;
- These see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep.
- For He commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the
- waves thereof.
- They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths;
- their soul is melted because of trouble.
- They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at
- their wits' end.
- Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and He bringeth them
- out of their distresses.
- He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still.
- Then are they glad because they be quiet; so He bringeth them unto
- their desired haven."
-
-
-When the reading of the Psalm was over, and they had stood silent for
-a little while, they raised their heads, but could scarcely see each
-other for the tears in their eyes. Then they kissed, and said
-goodnight; and Joshua, casting a wistful glance round the kitchen,
-every piece of furniture and crockery in which appeared to share in
-the general regret, assisted Dan up to his bedroom for the last time.
-
-They had scarcely time to sit down before the handle was gently
-turned, and George Marvel entered. In the room were all Joshua's
-little household gods--his accordion, his favorite books, and his dear
-little feathered friends.
-
-George Marvel threw his arm round Joshua's waist, and drew him close.
-
-"What are you going to do with the birds, Josh?" he asked.
-
-"Dan will take care of them, father."
-
-"Don't fret at leaving them--or us. Be a man, Josh--be a man," he
-said, with the tears running down his face.
-
-"Yes, dear father, I will," said Joshua with a great sob.
-
-"An don't forget father and mother, my boy."
-
-"No, father, never!"
-
-"It's better than being a wood-turner, Josh. Don't you think so?"
-doubting at the last moment the wisdom of his having encouraged Joshua
-in the step he was about to take.
-
-"A great deal better, father. You'll see!"
-
-"That's right, Josh--that's right! I'm glad to hear you say so.
-Goodnight, my boy. God bless you!" And pressing Joshua in his arms,
-and kissing him, George Marvel went away to bed.
-
-He had not been gone two minutes before the handle of the door was
-turned again, and Mrs. Marvel's pale face appeared. She did not enter
-the room; and Joshua ran to her. She drew him on to the narrow
-landing, and shut the door, so that they were in darkness. She pressed
-him to her bosom, and kissed him many times, and cried over him
-quietly.
-
-"O mother!" whispered Joshua, "shall I go? Shall I go?"
-
-"Hush, dear child," Mrs. Marvel said. "It is the very best thing; and
-you must not doubt now. Bless you, my dear, dear child! You will come
-home a man; and we shall all be so proud of you--so proud--and happy!"
-She pressed him closer, and tried to speak cheerfully; but it was a
-poor attempt. "And write whenever you can, and tell us every thing."
-
-"Yes; I will be sure."
-
-"Be a good boy, Joshua."
-
-"Yes, mother."
-
-"And you will say your prayers every night?"
-
-"I will, mother."
-
-"Dear child, God will protect you. I shall think of you of a night
-saying your prayers my dear, and it will comfort me so! And here I am,
-keeping my boy out of bed, like a selfish, selfish, selfish mother!
-Now, my dear, one more kiss, and say goodnight."
-
-He kissed her again, and she left his arms, and crept softly to her
-room. These heart-shocks were hard to bear, and he paused to recover
-himself before he re-entered the room. Dan did not look at him, nor
-ask him any questions. But Joshua sat down beside Dan, and said,--
-
-"It was mother kept me, Dan."
-
-"Yes, I know, Jo dear. There's somebody else at the door."
-
-It was Sarah, who asked if she might come in. Of course she might. And
-might Ellen come in? Of course. So Ellen came in, and she and Sarah
-sat with their brothers for a few minutes. They talked quietly
-together, and Joshua drew close to Ellen, and grew calmer as he looked
-at her sweet peaceful face. She raised her eyes shyly to his, and told
-him she had a little present for him, and would he accept it? _There_
-was a question to ask him! Joshua answered almost gayly. She produced
-her present--a poor little purse, which she had herself worked for
-him--and Joshua kissed it, and kissed her afterwards, and she nestled
-to his side very tenderly and very prettily, and cast down her eyes,
-and was perfectly happy. The girls did not stay long. Goodnight was
-said again and again, and Joshua asked Ellen to kiss him, and she did
-so without hesitation. When they were gone, Joshua sat down, and
-rested his head upon his hands. He was weary after the day's
-excitement, but although he was tired, he was wakeful, and did not
-feel inclined for sleep. So he and Dan had a long chat together,
-recalling the many tender memories that enriched their friendship.
-
-"I have a present for you, too, Jo," said Dan, producing a Bible.
-
-Joshua opened it, and read on the first page, "From Dan, to his
-dearest friend and brother, Joshua. With undying love and confidence."
-
-"With undying love and confidence," mused Joshua. "Nothing could ever
-change our friendship, Dan, could it?"
-
-"Nothing, Jo."
-
-"Come, now," said Joshua, "suppose, for the sake of argument, that I
-was to turn out bad."
-
-Dan smiled. "That couldn't happen, Jo."
-
-Thereupon Joshua told Dan the adventure he had had that day with Susan
-and the Lascar. "And, do you know, Dan, when I knocked him down, and
-saw his mouth bleeding. I was glad--savagely glad, I am sorry to say.
-Yet afterwards when I thought of it, and when I think of it now, it
-seems as if it was a bad feeling that possessed me."
-
-"It doesn't seem so to me, Jo; it gives me greater confidence in you.
-If you had not acted so, what would have become of poor Susan?"
-
-"That's true," said Joshua.
-
-"I knew all along, Jo dear, that you were loving and tender and good,
-but I did not know until now that you were so bold and brave. And so
-strong too! I am proud of you. You can't tell what may happen. Think
-of this strange new world you are going to now, Jo, and of the strange
-things the Old Sailor has told us of it. You have no more idea of the
-wonders you will see than I have. But you will see them, and I shall
-see them through you. Listen now to me, Jo. I love you, my dearest
-friend and brother, and you have my undying love and confidence. I, a
-poor helpless cripple, had no future of my own; and you have given me
-one. I live in you. I shall follow you in my thoughts, in my dreams.
-Somehow, Jo, our minds have grown together, and I smile at your words
-that you might turn out bad. Could you believe it of me, if I was
-strong like you even?"
-
-"No."
-
-"You answer for me Jo. You have always been noble and good to me, and
-you will always be the same. I would not think of thanking you, Jo,
-for what you have done for me--I would not think of thanking you for
-making my poor crippled legs a blessing to me instead of a burden. Not
-with words do I or can I repay you--but with undying love and
-confidence. Kiss me now, Jo, and say that you fully understand my
-friendship and truth."
-
-"Fully, Dan;" kissing him. "And I have never forgotten what I promised
-you a long time ago, Dan. Wherever I am, and whatever I shall see I
-will think, 'Dan is here with me, although I cannot see him.' Although
-we are parted, we shall be together."
-
-"Yes, in spirit, Jo dear," said Dan with a beautiful light of
-happiness upon his face. "And now, goodnight."
-
-"Good night, Dan."
-
-"If I am asleep in the morning, Jo, do not wake me. I am content to
-part from you now with this goodnight."
-
-"Very well, Dan. Goodnight."
-
-"Goodnight, MY FRIEND."
-
-With that Dan turned to the wall, and Joshua, going to the bird-cages
-hanging in that the room, said goodnight to the birds. They were
-asleep on their perches, and he did not disturb them. "They will give
-me a chirrup in the morning," he thought, and, blowing out the candle,
-he said his prayers and went to bed. But he could not sleep; the
-events of the day presented themselves to his mind in the strangest
-forms. Minnie and her shell came and faded away, and her place was
-filled by Susan nursing Basil Kindred; then came the ugly figure of
-the Lascar crouching down, and afterwards making a cross against him,
-and cursing him; his father reading the Psalm, while they all stood
-round; he and his mother standing in the dark passage, and his mother
-sobbing over him; Ellen kissing him and nestling close to him, oh so
-prettily and innocently! All these pictures presented themselves to
-him consecutively at first; but presently they grew disturbed, and the
-Lascar, the evil genius of the group, was mischievously and
-triumphantly at work, now in one shape, now in another. Joshua and
-Ellen were sitting together when the Lascar came between them, and
-struck Ellen out of the picture. Then the two were locked in a deadly
-struggle on the ground, and the Lascar, overpowering him, knelt upon
-his chest and hissed, "I could take your life, but that won't satisfy
-me. More than your life shall pay for what you have done." Other
-phases of his fancies were, that Dan believed him to be false. "My
-doing!" hissed the Lascar. That Ellen believed him to be wicked. "My
-doing!" hissed the Lascar. That they all believed him to be bad. "My
-doing!" hissed the Lascar. That they were all grouped together, and
-were turning from him, and that the Lascar, holding him fast,
-whispered that that was his revenge. At length the combinations became
-so distressing, that Joshua, to shake off the fancies, rose in his bed
-and opened his eyes. The moonlight was streaming in through the
-window, and Joshua crept quietly to the water-jug and sprinkled some
-water over his face. Then, his mind being calmer, he knelt down by the
-side of the bed; and Dan, who had not slept, raised himself upon his
-elbow, and, seeing his friend in prayerful attitude, smiled softly to
-himself and was glad.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI.
-WHAT OCCURRED AFTER JOSHUA'S DEPARTURE.
-
-
-The nicest mathematical calculations of the probability of events are
-not uncommonly subjected to shocks which, to those dull and
-unreflective persons who cannot distinguish between rule and
-exceptions, seem to give the lie to science. Yesterday the world was
-at peace, and rulers and politicians were eloquent in phrases of
-friendship and goodwill to the inhabitants of every nation on the
-face of the earth. To-day the world is at war, and rulers and
-politicians, hot with wrath at a cunningly-provoked insult, are eager
-to avenge traditional wrongs at any expense of blood and human
-suffering, and to resent what they choose to call national
-humiliation. Yesterday two nations clasped hands, and smiled upon one
-another. Suddenly, as thus they stood, a fire--kindled by the worst of
-secret passions and by the lust of self-aggrandizement--flashed into
-their palms, and they threw each other off, and drew the sword. A more
-serious shock was never given to the calculation of the probable
-course of events.
-
-Yesterday peace was certain, and men were preparing to gather the
-harvests; today war is raging, and the cornfields are steeped in
-blood.
-
-So have I seen in a far-off country--now almost in its infancy, but
-whose growth is swift, and whose manhood will be grand--a sluggish
-river rolling lazily to the sea. Walking inland along its banks, now
-broadened by fair plains, now narrowed by towering ranges, I have come
-suddenly upon the confluence of it and another river, whose waters,
-springing from cloud-tipped mountains of snow, rush laughingly down
-the grand old rocks. Here, in the narrow pass where the rivers meet,
-the gray sluggish stream of a sleeper opposes itself to the
-marvellously blue waters of a passionate life. One, dull and inert,
-rolls like a soulless sluggard sullenly to the sea; the other, with
-its snow-fringed lines reflected in its restless depths of blue, leaps
-and laughs as it flashes onwards, like a godlike hero, to the mightier
-waters of the Pacific. But a few hundred yards away from the
-confluence of the streams, no stranger, walking thitherward, could
-imagine the singular and grand contest that is eternally waging in
-that wonderful pass; and when he comes upon it suddenly, admiration
-impels him to stand in silent worship.
-
-One of the commonest of common similes is the simile of life and a
-river. But as it is not because a thing is rare that it must needs be
-sweet, so it is not because a thing is common that it must needs be
-true. Every river fulfils its mission: does every life? More like a
-stream than a river is life. Trace the stream, from the inconsiderable
-bubbling of a mountain spring, down the hillsides, over rocks, through
-glades lighted by sunlight and moonlight, through tortuous defiles and
-rocky chasms, into a sparkling current, which swells and swells and
-grows into a lovely channel, or into a sullen rill, which drips and
-drips and loses itself in a puddle.
-
-When Joshua's ship had sailed, gloom fell upon the house of the
-Marvels: the sunshine that used to warm it no longer shone on it.
-George Marvel showed his grief more plainly than did his good woman.
-He was more gentle towards her, and sometimes his gentleness of manner
-took the form of submission. Singularly enough she was seriously
-distressed at the change. She wished him to be positive and
-contradictory, as he used to be; to scold her and put her down, as he
-used to do; to be more masterful and less gentle. She strove in all
-sorts of ways to bring back his old humor; she tried his temper by
-opposing him in trivial matters; she contradicted him when he spoke;
-and she even ventured, on two or three occasions, to tell him that he
-would have to wait for his meals--which waiting for one's meals, as is
-well known, is one of the leading causes of domestic differences. But
-all her well-meant efforts were thrown away; and when she saw him sit
-down patiently on being told, with assumed snappishness, that tea
-wouldn't be ready for half an hour, she gave it up as a bad job, and,
-acting wisely, left time to cure him. It _did_ cure him, as it cures
-greater griefs; but in the mean time he suffered greatly.
-
-The fact of it was, George Marvel was troubled in his mind at the
-prominent part he had taken in influencing Joshua's choice of a
-profession. Having driven his son to sea, he felt as if he had a hand
-in every storm, and as if he were in some measure responsible for
-every gust of wind, inasmuch as it expressed danger to Joshua. Then
-the thought of Joshua's being shipwrecked haunted him. "Suppose Josh
-is shipwrecked, father," his wife had said, "what would you say then?
-You'd lie awake night after night, father--you know you would--and
-wish he had been a wood-turner."
-
-"Maggie was right," he admitted to himself; "it would have been better
-for Josh, and happier for all us, if he had remained at home and been
-a wood-turner."
-
-Being in pursuit of misery, he showed the doggedness of his nature by
-hunting for it assiduously. He read with remorseful eagerness every
-scrap of print relating to shipwreck that he could lay hands upon. He
-would go out of his way to borrow a paper which he had heard contained
-an account of disasters at sea, and when he obtained it, he would shut
-himself up, and read it and re-read it in secrecy, until he extracted
-as much misery from it as it could possibly yield him. The second
-Saturday night after Joshua's departure he saw a number of persons
-assembled round a sailor who was begging. The sailor had a patch over
-his eye and a wooden leg, and he was singing, in a voice of dismal
-enjoyment, a woful narration of his sufferings on a raft. George
-Marvel stopped until the song was finished, and then gave the man a
-penny. The following Saturday night he went in search of the sailor,
-and listened to his song, and gave him another penny. And so, for many
-successive Saturday nights, he went and enjoyed his penny-worth of
-misery, getting, it must be admitted, full value for his money.
-
-On other evenings he smoked his pipe in the kitchen as usual. If the
-weather was boisterous, he would go restlessly to the street-door, and
-come back more low-spirited than ever.
-
-"It's dreadfully windy to-night, Maggie," he would say.
-
-"Do you think so, George?" Mrs. Marvel would ask, making light of the
-wind for his sake, although she too was thinking of Joshua.
-
-"Not a star to be seen," he would add despondently.
-
-Then would come a stronger gust, perhaps, and George Marvel would
-shiver and ask his wife if she thought it was stormy out at sea. She,
-becoming on the instant wonderfully weatherwise, would answer, No, she
-was sure it wasn't stormy at sea, for the sea was such a long way off,
-and it wasn't likely that a storm would be all over the world at once.
-
-One night when a great storm was raging through London, and when the
-thunder was breaking loudly over the chimney-tops in Stepney, Mrs.
-Marvel lay awake, with all a mother's fears tugging at her
-heart-strings, praying silently for Joshua's safety, and clasping her
-hands more tightly in agony of love at every lightning-flash that
-darted past the window. She hoped that her husband was asleep,
-oblivious of the storm; but he was as wide awake as she was,
-and was following Joshua's ship through the fearful storm. At one
-time, the house shook in the wild blustering of the wind, and they
-heard a crash as of the blowing down of some chimneys.
-
-"Maggie," whispered Mr. Marvel, wondering if his wife were awake.
-
-"Yes, father," answered Mrs. Marvel, under her breath.
-
-"It is an awful storm." Then, after a pause, "Have you been awake
-long, mother?"
-
-"I have been listening to it for ever so long, dear," said Mrs.
-Marvel; adding, with a cunning attempt to comfort him, "And praying
-that it might spend out all its force over our heads, and not travel
-away to Joshua's ship. We ought to be thankful that Joshua is on the
-open sea. Mr. Meddler says there's no danger for a ship in a storm
-when it isn't near land."
-
-"And he knows better than us, mother."
-
-"Yes, dear. All we can do is to pray for Joshua. God will bring him
-back to us, father."
-
-"I hope so; I pray so. Goodnight, Maggie. Go to sleep."
-
-"Yes, George. Goodnight."
-
-But they lay awake for a long time after that, until the storm,
-sobbing like a child worn out with passion, sighed and moaned itself
-away.
-
-As for Dan, for many days after Joshua was gone he felt as if a dear
-friend had died; not Joshua, but some unknown friend almost as dear.
-He had reason enough for feeling lonely and miserable. His dear
-friend's companionship had been inestimably precious to him; Joshua's
-very footfall had made his heart glad. The hours they had spent
-together were the summer of his life, and now that he and Joshua were
-parted he recognized that a great void had been made in his life, and
-that it behoved him to fill it up. That void was want of occupation.
-What was he to do now that Joshua was gone? When Joshua was at home,
-there had been every day something to do, something to talk about.
-something to argue upon. Then, time did not hang heavily upon his
-hands; now, when there was no Joshua to look forward to, he found
-himself falling into a state of listlessness which he knew was not
-good for him. He wanted something for his hands to do. What? He
-thought a great deal about it, and had not settled the difficulty when
-a domestic calamity occurred.
-
-The drinking proclivities of Mr. Taylor have been incidentally
-referred to. These proclivities had unfortunately grown upon him to
-such an extent, that he was now an ardent and faithful slave of that
-demon to so many English homes among the poor--Gin. It has been spoken
-of often enough and truthfully enough, God knows! But it cannot, until
-it lie vanquished in the dust, be too often struck at. If there is a
-curse in this our mighty England which degrades it to a level so low
-that it is shame to think of, that curse is Gin! If vice, domestic
-misery, and prostitution have an English teacher, that teacher is Gin!
-And in this England, which we so glorify, so sing about and mouth
-about, no direct attempt has ever yet been made by statesmen who work
-as Jobbers to root this teacher out of our wretched courts and alleys,
-and replace it by something better. Perhaps one day, when a lull takes
-place in the jangle of Politics--amid the din of which so many strange
-sounds are heard; such as the wrangle of religious creeds, whose
-various exponents split worthless straws in Church-and-State bills for
-Heaven knows what purpose, unless it be for the triumph of their
-particular creeds; such as the wrangle of private members whose hearts
-and souls (literally) are wrapt up in private bills for the good of
-the people--perhaps one day amid the lull, a wise and beneficent
-statesman may turn his attention to the abominable curse, and earn for
-himself a statue, the design of which shall be--after the manner of
-St. George and the Dragon--Gin writhing on the ground in all its true
-deformity, pierced through by the spear of a wise legislation, which
-in this instance at least shall have legislated for the good of the
-many.
-
-Mr. Taylor, one of the Gin Patriots, having enrolled himself as a
-soldier in the cause, was necessitated by the magnanimity of his
-nature to become a soldier leal and true. So he bowed himself down
-before Gin, and worshipped it morning, noon, and night. Even in his
-dreams he was faithful to the cause, mumbling out entreaties to his
-god. His devotion causing him to neglect all lesser worldly matters,
-he fell into a bad state of poverty, and his family fell with him. The
-worst form of Mr. Taylor's devotion did not appear until Joshua left
-home; hitherto he had been working up to his ambition's height. Having
-reached it, he rested on his oars, which, being composed of the
-frailest of timber, gave way and sent him rolling into the mud. As he
-declined to provide for his family, that duty devolved upon Mrs.
-Taylor, and she patiently and unmurmuringly performed her duty, and
-worked her fingers to the bone, until her strength gave way. She was
-one of those quiet souls who always do their best, and never complain;
-and having done her best, she closed her eyes upon the world, and
-passed without a murmur out of the hive of busy bees.
-
-There was much sadness in the house when the event occurred, and
-there was much helpful sympathy among the neighbors. Not for Mr.
-Taylor--although they remembered the time when he was a respectable
-member of society, before he had fallen under the fatal influence of
-Gin--but for the children. During Mrs. Taylor's illness, which lasted
-but a very short time, Susan came to the house and helped Ellen in her
-household work and in nursing their mother. It was an anxious time for
-the poor little maid; but she did her work willingly, and with the
-patient spirit her mother had exhibited. Susan was a great help to
-her, and there was more sisterly love between them during that time
-than had ever before shown itself. At the funeral, Mr. Taylor
-presented himself in as decent a state of Gin as he could muster up
-for the occasion; drivelled a little, trembled a great deal, and
-proclaimed himself a most unfortunate man. Finding that he obtained no
-sympathy for his miserable position from his children or from the
-neighbors, he, when the funeral was over, pawned his waistcoat, and
-dissolving the proceeds wept tears of Gin over the death of his wife.
-While he was employed in that process of drowning his grief, the three
-children were sitting together in Dan's room talking in hushed tones
-over their loss and over their prospects. After the funeral, Mrs.
-Marvel--who had helped to nurse Mrs. Taylor--quietly prepared tea in
-Dan's room, and with her usual sympathetic instinct of what was best,
-kept herself out of sight as much as possible. But at the last moment,
-when tea was ready and she was about to leave the children
-undisturbed, she placed her arm round Dan's neck, and whispered that
-Joshua's home was Dan's and that he might come and occupy Joshua's
-room whenever he pleased. "And be another son to us my dear," said
-good Mrs. Marvel; "so that we shall have two." Dan thanked her, and
-looked at Ellen thoughtfully, and then Mrs. Marvel left the children
-to their meal.
-
-Said Dan, "Mrs. Marvel has asked me to live in her house, and sleep in
-Joshua's room."
-
-"It would be a good thing," observed Susan.
-
-Dan stole his hand into Ellen's, who had been looking down sadly; she
-felt the warm pressure, and her fingers tightened upon his. That
-little action was as good as words; they understood each other
-perfectly.
-
-"No," he said, "it would not be a good thing. It was a good thing for
-Mrs. Marvel to offer, but then she is Jo's mother, and as kind and
-good as Jo is; but it would not be a good thing for me to accept. For
-there's Ellen here; she is half of me, Susey, and we mustn't be
-parted. But indeed there will be no reason for it. I have a wonderful
-scheme in my head, but it wants thinking over before I tell it."
-
-Dan spoke bravely, as if he were a strong man, with all the world to
-choose from.
-
-"O Dan!" exclaimed Susan, tears coming to her eyes at his brave
-confident manner, "if it hadn't been for me you wouldn't have been a
-cripple, and your poor legs might have been of some use to you."
-
-"They will be of more use to me perhaps than if they were sound,
-Susey," said Dan cheerfully, "if I can make something out of the
-scheme I have got in my head--and I think I can. Let us talk sensibly.
-Now that poor dear mother's gone, we must all do something. I intend
-to commence doing something to-morrow."
-
-"What, dear Dan?" asked Susan.
-
-"You will see. What I should like is that we should all live together.
-Perhaps not just now, Susey, but by and by. What do you say to that,
-Susey?"
-
-Susan thought of Basil and Minnie Kindred, and felt that it would be
-impossible for her to leave them. "It would be very good," she said,
-"but we can talk of that by and by, as you say."
-
-"Very well. The first thing, then, we have to consider is
-bread-and-butter. Bread-and-butter," he repeated, in reply to their
-questioning looks. "We must have it, and we must earn it."
-
-Susan nodded gravely, and said, "Ellen had better learn to be a
-dressmaker."
-
-Ellen looked up with joyful gratitude.
-
-"Oh, how good of you, Susey!" she exclaimed. "Then I could earn money.
-I wouldn't mind how hard I should have to work."
-
-"It is a capital idea," said Dan, taking Susan's hand. "The best thing
-you can do, Susey, is to bring some of your work here every day for a
-couple of hours, and let Ellen help you--she will soon learn."
-
-"That I will," said Ellen in a voice of quiet gladness.
-
-These young people, you see, were not entirely unhappy.
-
-"I wonder where Joshua is," remarked Ellen during the evening.
-
-"Ah, where?" sighed Dan. "But wherever he is, he is doing his duty,
-and we will do ours. How happy we all were that night at Mr. Meddler's
-What a beautiful day that was! Like a dream! Hark! There is the
-church-bell striking nine o'clock." They listened in silence. "That is
-like a wedding-bell. Now the other church is striking--how solemn it
-sounds--like a funeral-bell."
-
-The tears came to their eyes when Dan inadvertently made the last
-remark.
-
-They did not speak for a long time after that, and then Dan said,--
-
-"I feel now just as I felt the day after Jo went away."
-
-They sat up talking until eleven o'clock. They spoke in low tones, and
-they sat in the dark.
-
-"Don't you miss mother's step, Dan?" asked Susan.
-
-"How strange it is to know that she is not in the house!" said Dan.
-"Hush!"
-
-There was a step outside the door; it was the drunken step of their
-father, who stumbled through the passage and up the stairs, shedding
-tears of Gin as he staggered to bed, bemoaning the death of his wife.
-They listened with feelings of grief and fear until they heard his
-bedroom-door shut, and then turned to each other with deeper sighs.
-Shame for the living was more grievous to bear than sorrow for the
-dead.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII.
-DAN ENTERS INTO BUSINESS.
-
-
-Their plans were commenced the very next day. Susan came round with
-her work, and gave Ellen her first lesson in dressmaking. Ellen was as
-skilful with the needle as Susan was, and made famous progress. A
-cheerful worker is sure to turn out a skilful one.
-
-"I have been thinking in the night, Ellen," said Susan, "that we might
-go into partnership."
-
-"Wait," said Dan the Just, looking up from the table, on which the
-birds were going through their performances; "there is time enough to
-talk of that. I don't intend that you shall sacrifice every thing for
-us."
-
-"No sacrifice could be too great for me to make for you, Dan," replied
-Susan. "But I think that I should have all the advantage, if we were
-partners. Ellen has such a beautiful figure, that she would be sure to
-get customers. Stand up, dear--look at her, Dan!" And Susan turned
-Ellen about, and looked at her pretty sister's pretty figure without a
-tittle of envy. "If you are a judge of any thing but birds, Dan, you
-must confess that but is a model."
-
-Dan smiled and said, "If Ellen wasn't good, you would make her vain.
-Let the partnership question rest for a little while. Go on with your
-work, and don't talk. I've got something very particular to do."
-
-Dan, with his birds before him, appeared to be perplexed with some
-more than usually difficult problem concerning them. There was a
-curious indecision also in his treatment of them. Now he issued a
-command, now he countermanded it; now he ordered a movement, and
-before it was executed threw the birds into confusion by giving the
-signal for something entirely different. Until at length the birds,
-especially the old stagers, stood looking irresolutely at each other,
-with the possible thought in their minds (if they have any) that their
-master had taken a drop too much to drink; and one young recruit--none
-but a young one and a tomtit, who is notoriously the sauciest of
-birds, would have dared to do it--advanced, alone and unsupported, to
-the edge of the table, and looking up in Dan's face, asked what he
-meant by it. Recalled to himself by this act of insubordination, Dan
-recovered his usual self-possession, and selected two bullfinches,
-somewhat similar to those which he had given to the Old Sailor. They
-were young untrained birds, and Dan at once commenced their education.
-But Ellen remarked with surprise that he was less tender in his manner
-towards them than towards the other birds. He spoke to them more
-sternly, and as if the business in which they were engaged was a
-serious business, with not a particle of nonsense in it.
-
-"See, Ellen," he said after some days had passed--"see how clever they
-are They draw up their own food and their own water; and directly I
-sound this whistle, they sing 'God save the King.'"
-
-He blew through the tin whistle, and the birds sang the air through.
-
-"Now you sound the whistle, Ellen." Ellen blew through the whistle,
-and the birds repeated the air.
-
-"So you see, Ellen it doesn't matter who blows the whistle; the birds
-begin to sing directly they hear it. Here is another whistle--a wooden
-one, with a different note. Blow that softly."
-
-Ellen blew, and the bullfinches immediately set to work hauling up
-water from the well.
-
-"That is good, isn't it?" said Dan. "They will obey anybody."
-
-"But tell me, Dan, why you don't speak to them as kindly as you do to
-the others?"
-
-"Ah, you have noticed it, miss, have you? I thought you did. Well,
-then in the first place, I wanted to teach them by a new system. I
-wanted to teach them so that anybody can make them do what I do, if he
-gives the proper signal; and I have succeeded, as you see. If I had
-taught them by my voice as I have taught the others, they wouldn't
-have been of use to any one but me. They are such cunning little
-thing's, and they have such delicate little ears! In the second place,
-Ellen, I did not want to grow fond of them."
-
-"Why, Dan dear?"
-
-"Because, if I had grown fond of them, it would almost break my heart
-to part with them. Who could help loving them, I wonder? They have
-been my world, you see, and they are such innocent little pets. I have
-grown to love them so, you can't tell. And we know each other's
-voices, and have made a language of our own, which no one else can
-understand."
-
-He chirruped to them, and called to them in endearing tones; and all
-the birds, with the exception of the pair of bullfinches, fluttered to
-him, and perched about his shoulders and nestled in his breast. The
-two little bullfinches, standing alone in the centre of the table,
-looked more surprised than forlorn at the desertion.
-
-Then Dan said: "This is part of my scheme. I commence business to-day
-as a bird-merchant. I have trained these two bullfinches to sell. You
-are earning money already, Ellen dear, and you are a girl. I am not
-quite a man in years, although I think I am here"--touching his
-forehead--"and I am not going to let you beat me at moneymaking."
-
-He pulled out a paper, on which was written, in Roman letters, and
-neat round hand,
-
-
- THIS PAIR OF BULLFINCHES
- FOR SALE.
-_They draw up their own food and water; and they sing_
- "GOD SAVE THE KING,"
-_And other Tunes, to the Sound of a Whistle_.
-
- _Inquire within of_ DAN TAYLOR.
-
-
-"What I propose to do, Ellen, is to put the cage with the bullfinches
-in the parlor-window, with this announcement over the cage. Perhaps it
-will attract the attention of some one or other, and he will be
-curious about it, and will come in and make inquiries."
-
-So the birds were exhibited in the parlor-window, and above their cage
-was hung the announcement that they were for sale. The neighbors saw
-the birds, and there was not a woman for a quarter of a mile around
-who did not make a pilgrimage to the parlor-window of the Taylors.
-"Dan is selling his birds," they said, "because of his brute of a
-father;" and they shook their heads sorrowfully, and admired Dan's
-writing, and said he was quite a scholar. Ellen, working in the
-parlor, would pause in the midst of her hemming, or stitching, or
-basting, as the shadow of a passer-by darkened the window, and pray
-that he would come in and buy the birds.
-
-The exhibition was a great boon to the dirty little boys and girls in
-the neighborhood, who at first stood in open-mouthed admiration, and
-would have stood so for hours, neglectful of the gutters, if an
-occasional raid against their forces by anxious mothers had not
-scattered them now and then. Those of the children who could get near
-enough, would flatten their noses and mouths against the window-panes
-in the fervor of their enthusiasm. The bullfinches, looking down from
-their perch upon the queerly-distorted features, had the advantage of
-studying human nature from an entirely novel point of view, and were
-doubtless interested in the study. For the purpose of attracting the
-passers-by, Dan, at certain intervals during the day, caused the birds
-to draw up their water and food; and those exhibitions were the
-admiration of the entire neighborhood.
-
-"I wish some one would come in and ask the price of them," sighed
-Ellen, wishing that she had a fairy-wand to turn the sight-gazers into
-customers.
-
-Dan only smiled, and bade Ellen have patience.
-
-In the mean time Mr. Taylor, becoming every day more devoted in his
-worship to his god, fell every day into a worse and worse condition.
-One evening, Ellen, being tired, went to bed soon after tea, and on
-that evening Mr. Taylor happened to come home earlier than usual.
-There was a reason for it: he had spent all his money, had quite
-exhausted his credit, and had been turned out of the public-houses.
-Being less drunk than usual, he was more ill-tempered than usual, and
-he stumbled into the parlor with the intention of venting his
-ill-humor upon Ellen. But Ellen was not there. Dan was the only
-occupant of the room, and he was reading. He raised his eyes, and
-seeing his father half-drunk, he lowered them to his book again. He
-was ashamed and grieved.
-
-"Where is Ellen?" demanded Mr. Taylor.
-
-"Gone to bed," replied Dan shortly.
-
-"Why isn't she here to get my supper?" asked the gin-worshipper
-irritably. Dan made no reply; but, although he appeared to be
-continuing his reading, a quivering of his lips denoted that his
-attention was not wholly given to his book. "Do you hear me?"
-continued Mr. Taylor after a pause, thumping his fist upon the table.
-"Why isn't she here to get my supper? What business has she to go to
-bed without getting my supper?"
-
-"She was up at five this morning to do the washing, and has been
-working all day."
-
-Dan spoke very quietly, and did not look at his father.
-
-"Her mother wouldn't have done it," whimpered Mr. Taylor. "Here am I
-without two pence in my pocket, and my very children rebel against me.
-Is there any thing in the house for supper?--tell me that."
-
-"I don't know. I don't think there is."
-
-"You don't know! You don't think there is!" sneered Mr. Taylor.
-"You've had yours, I suppose?"
-
-"No, sir, I have not had any."
-
-"What do you mean by 'sir'?" cried Mr. Taylor furiously. "How dare you
-call your father 'sir'? Is that what you learned from your friend
-Joshua?"
-
-Dan clasped his hands nervously together; he was agitated and
-indignant, and he did not dare to give expression to his thoughts.
-
-"Why don't you speak?" demanded Mr. Taylor with unreasoning anger.
-"What do you mean by sitting there mocking your father?"
-
-"I am not mocking you," said Dan. "And as for speaking, I am too much
-ashamed to say what I think; so I had better remain silent."
-
-"How dare you speak to me in that way? Haven't I kept you for years in
-idleness and luxury? Haven't I provided for you? And now when I am in
-bad luck, and haven't sixpence to get a quartern loaf"--he meant a
-quatern of gin, but the loaf was the more dignified way of putting
-it--"my children turn against me."
-
-"It isn't my fault that you have had to keep me," Dan said quietly.
-"If I had been like other boys, I should have been glad to work and
-earn money; but I am crippled, and never felt that I was unfortunate
-until now. I don't think mother would have thrown my misfortune in my
-teeth as you have done."
-
-Mr. Taylor was too much steeped in gin to feel the reproachful words.
-He continued to bemoan his hard fate and the ingratitude of his
-children. In the midst of his bemoaning he caught sight of an empty
-cage. An inspiration fell upon him. That bird-cage could probably be
-exchanged for a pint of gin. Present bliss was before him, and the
-prospect of it made him cunning.
-
-He ordered Dan to bed, and Dan, who could crawl with the aid of his
-crutches, went, thankful to escape from so painful an interview. When
-Dan came down the next morning he discovered his loss. He was much
-grieved; not so much at the loss of the bird-cage, but at the thought
-that his other cages and the birds might be appropriated in like
-manner. He said nothing of what had occurred, but that night when he
-went to bed he had all his birds and cages removed to his bedroom, and
-he locked his door.
-
-It was midnight when Mr. Taylor came home. Although he was drunk, he
-crept like a thief into the house. The proceeds of the cage had
-supplied him with drink for the day; and having conscientiously spent
-every penny, he was in the same impoverished condition as he had been
-the previous night. As he could not live without gin, he determined to
-appropriate another bird cage. What right had Dan to them? They were
-his, the father's, who had kept his son in idleness, and who had
-clothed and sheltered him. Yet in the midst of his drunken muttering
-he was oppressed with a shamefaced consciousness of the villainy of
-his logic, and it was with difficulty he obtained a light from the
-tinder-box. The poor little rush-light flickered when it was lighted,
-as if it also were oppressed with shame.
-
-Unsteadily, and with much stumbling, Mr. Taylor groped his way to
-Dan's room. Looking around on the walls he discovered, to his dismay
-and astonishment, that the birds and the cages were gone. His first
-surprise over, he gave way to passion. The boy had no doubt taken the
-cages to his bedroom for fear his father should steal them. How dared
-Dan suspect him? He would teach Dan a lesson--a lesson that he would
-not forget. Working himself into a state of maudlin indignation he
-stumbled up the stairs to Dan's bedroom, and tried the door. It was
-locked. Here was another proof of his son's ingratitude and want of
-confidence. What was he to do for gin the next day? He must have gin;
-he could not live without it. Ellen's bedroom was next to Dan's. The
-drunken father turned the handle of the door, and looked in. On the
-floor were Ellen's boots. He saw gin marked on them, and catching them
-up, he clutched them to his breast, and slunk guiltily to bed.
-
-Ellen, rising the next morning, looked about in vain for her boots.
-She searched for them up stairs and down stairs, wondering what had
-become of them. The door of her father's room was open, and she
-entered it; but Mr. Taylor, knowing that Ellen was an early riser, had
-taken care to get out of the house before she was about. When Ellen
-saw the empty bed, some glimmering of the truth flashed upon her. At
-first the poor girl sat down upon the bed and began to cry; the loss
-of her boots was a grievous loss indeed to her. She had no money to
-buy another pair with; they were such beautiful boots, too, and fitted
-her so nicely! What was she to do? How it would grieve Dan to know?
-That thought calmed her. Dan must not know--it would hurt him too
-much. She might be able to get an old pair from somebody during the
-day; perhaps Susan had an old pair to lend her. She dried her eyes and
-washed them well with cold water, and altogether managed so
-successfully, that breakfast was over, and she and Dan and the birds
-were all together in the parlor, without Dan ever suspecting what had
-occurred.
-
-Those two children sitting there were fully aware that a grave crisis
-was approaching. Young as they were to bear the weight of serious
-trouble, they bore it cheerfully, and strove in their humble way to
-fight with the world and with the hard circumstances of their lives.
-Dan cripple as he was had much hope; and often when he was thinking
-over certain schemes which had been suggested by the stern necessity
-of his condition, a quaint smile would play upon his lips, and a
-humorous light would shine in his eyes. Ellen, looking up from her
-work, would sometimes see that smile, which, for all its quaintness,
-had a shade of thoughtfulness in it; and on her lips, too, a pleasant
-smile would wreathe in sympathy. They were very tender towards each
-other; and their love made them strong.
-
-Ellen busy with her needle, sat close to the table, so that Dan should
-not catch a glimpse of her shoeless feet. Dan was industriously at
-work training two birds, which were to replace those in the window
-when they were sold.
-
-The education of this second pair of birds was almost completed, and
-Dan said as much to Ellen. He had taught them different tricks, and
-had fitted two ladders in the cage, up and down which they hopped,
-keeping time, step for step.
-
-"But will they ever be sold?" exclaimed Ellen almost despairingly.
-
-"It _is_ a long time before we make a commencement," said Dan.
-"There's Susan."
-
-When Susan entered, she examined the dress which Ellen was making, and
-suddenly exclaimed,--
-
-"Why, Ellen, where are your boots?"
-
-Dan looked up quickly, and then directed his eyes to Ellen's feet.
-Poor Ellen stammered a good deal, and striving to hide the truth from
-Dan, got into a sad bewilderment of words.
-
-"Nay, but, Ellen," interposed Dan in a grave voice, "you don't mean to
-say that you have been sitting all the morning without your boots?"
-
-"Yes, I have," said Ellen, compelled to confess.
-
-"But why, my dear?"
-
-"When I got up this morning, I looked for them, and could not find
-them. Perhaps I can find them now." And Ellen ran out of the room; but
-she soon returned, shaking her head, and saying, "No, they're gone.
-Never mind; it can't be helped."
-
-"You really don't know what has become of them?"
-
-"No, Dan."
-
-"Did you see father last night?"
-
-Ellen shook her head.
-
-"Nor this morning?"
-
-Ellen shook her head again.
-
-"I can't quite see what is to be the end of all this," said Dan sadly.
-"It is almost too dreadful to think of. Father must have taken your
-boots, Ellen dear. The night before last he took a bird-cage; that was
-the reason I had all my birds in my bedroom last night. It is very,
-very dreadful. Poor dear mother! Poor dear Joshua! I _do_ wish you
-were here now to advise us what to do!"
-
-And the three children then drew closer together, and strove to
-comfort each other.
-
-"Dry your eyes, Ellen," said Dan stoutly; "brighter days will come.
-Susan, have you a pair of old boots that you can lend to Ellen?"
-
-Susan ran out of the house and returned with a pair of boots which she
-had bought at a second-hand clothes-shop, and which Ellen was very
-thankful for, although they were much too large for her.
-
-Mr. Taylor came home at midnight in a state of drunken delirium. He
-had drunk deeply--so deeply, that when he slammed the street-door
-behind him, he found himself in the midst of a thousand mocking eyes,
-growing upon him and blasting him with hideous looks; and as he groped
-his way in terror up the dark stairs, a thousand misshapen hands
-strove to bar his progress. They fastened on him and clung to him; and
-the faster his trembling hands beat them down and tore them away, the
-more thickly they multiplied. So, fighting and suffering and groaning
-in his agony, the drunkard staggered to his room, and Dan and Ellen
-shuddered as they lay and listened. Well for them that they could not
-see as well as hear; well for them that they could not see him pick
-the crawling things (existing only in his imagination) off his
-bed-clothes and throw them off with loathing; that they could not see
-him, bathed in perspiration, writhing in his bed and fighting with his
-punishment. He could not endure it. It was too horrible to bear.
-
-The room was full of creeping shapes, visible in the midst of the
-darkness. He would go out into the streets, into the light, where they
-could not follow him. Where was the door? He felt about the walls for
-it. It was gone; he was closed in, imprisoned with his terrors. He
-beat about with his hands deliriously. The window! ah, they had not
-closed that! He dashed at the panes, and tearing open the casement
-with his bleeding fingers, fell from a height of twenty feet, and met
-a drunkard's death.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII.
-DAN DECLARES THAT IT IS LIKE A ROMANCE.
-
-
-The old gentleman with the hour-glass who never sleeps does not look a
-day older, and yet four seasons have played their parts and have
-passed away. The white hairs in George Marvel's head are multiplying
-fast, and he grumbles at them as usual, but has given up the task of
-pulling them out. Great changes have taken place among Joshua's
-friends; and Dan, looking up from his work, remarks sometimes that it
-is almost like a romance. Judge if it is.
-
-When Mr. Taylor was buried--when the shame of his death was forgotten
-and only sorrow for it remained--the children found themselves in one
-of those social difficulties from which many wiser persons than they
-are unable to extricate themselves. For the first three or four weeks
-after their father's death, Mrs. Marvel and Susan had between them
-managed to defray the small expenses of the house; but the tax was
-heavy--too heavy for them to continue to bear. One day, however,
-unexpected help came. George Marvel, in his quiet way, had conceived a
-great idea, and in his quiet way had carried it out. Here were these
-two children thrown upon the world. Not children exactly perhaps, for
-they were nearly seventeen years of age; but one was a cripple, and
-the other was a girl. They had been good children, and their character
-stood high in the neighborhood. Who ought to assist them? The
-neighbors. Some one must take it in hand, and why not he as well as
-any other person? No sooner had he made up his mind than he set to
-work. He went round to the neighbors personally, and told them what
-his errand was. Poor as they were, they gave their mites cheerfully,
-with scarcely an exception. When he had made the round of the
-neighbors, he went to the workshops, and the men there gave their
-penny each, and the boys their halfpence; and so swelled the total.
-His own employers and fellow-workmen were more liberal than any. He
-did not forget his tradesmen, his butcher and baker and grocer. They
-all gave; and the result was that, at the end of the three weeks
-during which he had been employed in his self-imposed task, he had a
-sum of not less than twelve pounds four shillings in his possession,
-to hand over to Dan and Ellen to assist them through their trouble.
-The night he made up his accounts, he told his wife what he had done,
-and she blessed him for it, and was silently and devoutly grateful
-that Providence had given her a husband with such a heart.
-
-The following evening George Marvel visited the children, with his bag
-of money in his coat-tail pocket. Ellen was at work, and although she
-looked pale in her black dress, she looked very pretty. The goodness
-of the heart always shows itself in the face.
-
-Now Dan had been thinking all day, and indeed for many previous days,
-that he ought to consult some mature person as to what he was to do.
-You must understand that Dan, notwithstanding that he was so much
-younger than Susan, considered himself the head of the family. He had
-his plans, but he wanted advice concerning them. Up to the present
-time, his business in trained birds had not flourished. It could not
-be said to have commenced, for he had not sold a bird. He had decided
-Mr. Marvel would be a proper person to ask advice of, and by good luck
-here Mr. Marvel was.
-
-"Have you a few minutes to spare, sir?"
-
-"Yes, surely, Dan," replied Mr. Marvel.
-
-"I want to take your advice, sir," commenced Dan after a slight
-hesitation. "You know how we are situated, and how suddenly our
-misfortunes have come upon us. Well, sir, we must live; we must have
-bread-and-butter. Now the only scapegrace out of the lot of us is
-me--don't interrupt me, Ellen, nor you, sir, please. Susan is earning
-her bread-and-butter and something more. Ellen is earning enough to
-keep her; and I am the only idle one of all of us, and I am the only
-one who is eating bread-and-butter and is not earning it."
-
-"But, Dan," interposed George Marvel.
-
-"No, sir, please; let me go on. I have been eating the bread of
-idleness all my life, and I am eating it now. It isn't right that I
-should do so. I ought to earn my own living. But how? I am not like
-other boys, and cannot do what other boys can do. One thing is
-certain: I can't let Ellen work for me, and it would break my heart to
-part from her; and she would feel it quite as much as I should.--Yes,
-Ellen, keep your arm round my neck, but don't speak.--I tried to earn
-money, you know that. I trained some birds, and put them in the
-window, thinking that some one would buy them. But no one has. I
-haven't earned a penny-piece, and every bit of bread I put into my
-mouth has been paid for by Susan and Ellen."
-
-Notwithstanding his eagerness, his tears choked him here, and he was
-compelled to pause before he resumed. In the mean time, obedient to
-his wish, neither Ellen nor Mr. Marvel spoke.
-
-"Now, sir, this is my idea. I have got now twenty-two birds; they can
-do all sorts of tricks: they can whistle tunes; they can climb up
-ladders; some of them can march like soldiers and can let off guns;
-some of them can draw carts. Would it be considered begging, if I, a
-lame boy, who have no other way of getting bread-and-butter, made an
-exhibition of these birds, and got some one to wheel me about the
-streets, and stop now and then so that I might put the birds through
-their tricks? I shouldn't be ashamed to accept what kind persons might
-give me, or might drop into a little box which I would take care to
-have handy. I wouldn't do it in this neighborhood. I would go a long
-way off--three or four miles perhaps--into the rich parts of London,
-where people could better afford to give. But would it be considered
-begging? That is what I want to ask your advice upon, sir."
-
-George Marvel's breath was completely taken away. The enthusiastic
-manner in which Dan had spoken, no less than his admiration of the
-proposed scheme, had caused him to forget his errand for the time.
-"Wait a minute," he said somewhat excitedly, "I must think; I must
-walk about a bit." But no sooner had he risen than the weight of the
-money in his coat-tail pocket brought him to his sober senses, and he
-sat down again.
-
-"Dan," he said, taking the lad's hand affectionately in his, "you are
-a good boy, and I am glad that you are Joshua's friend. I will answer
-your question and give you my advice, as you ask it. In any other case
-than yours I think it would be begging; but I don't think it _would_
-be in yours."
-
-"Thank you, sir," said Dan gratefully.
-
-"Mind, I think even in your case it would not be exactly what I should
-approve of, if you had any other way of getting a living."
-
-"You think as I do, sir; but I have tried, as you see, and I have not
-succeeded."
-
-"Try a little longer, Dan."
-
-"How about next week's rent, sir?"
-
-"You can pay it," replied George Marvel, "and many more weeks'
-besides. I have a present for you in my pocket;" and he pulled out the
-bag of money and put it on the table. "In this bag is twelve pounds
-four shillings, which your friends--yours and your sisters'--have
-clubbed together for you, and that is what brought me here to-night."
-
-"O sir!" cried Dan, covering his face with his hands.
-
-"This money has been got together because all of us round about here
-love you. I sha'n't give it to you all at once. You shall have it so
-much every week; and I should advise you--as you ask for my advice--to
-continue training birds for sale and putting them in your window. Try
-a little while longer. A customer may come at any minute. And one
-customer is sure to bring another."
-
-"How can I thank you and all the good people, sir?" said Dan, with a
-full heart.
-
-"Never mind that now," said George Marvel.
-
-If he had known that it would have been so difficult and painful a
-task, it is not unlikely he would have remitted it to his wife to
-accomplish. Pretending to be in a great hurry, he rose to go, and,
-pressing Dan's hand and kissing Ellen, went home to his wife and told
-her of Dan's wonderful idea.
-
-Ellen and Dan were very happy the next morning, and set about their
-work cheerfully and hopefully. Dan wrote a new announcement concerning
-the birds, and the windows were cleaned, and presented a regular
-holiday appearance. In the midst of his work, Dan, looking up, saw a
-face at the window that he recognized. It was that of a young man who
-had been in the habit of looking in at the window nearly every day for
-the last week, and of whom Dan had observed more than once, that he
-looked like a customer.
-
-"There he is again, Ellen," said Dan; "the same man. Why doesn't he
-come in and ask the price of them?"
-
-He had no sooner spoken the words than the man's face disappeared from
-the window, and a knock came at the street-door.
-
-"Run and open the door, Ellen. I shouldn't wonder if he has made up
-his mind at last." Dan's heart beat loud with excitement. "How much
-shall I ask for them?" he thought. "Oh, if he buys a couple of them,
-how happy I shall be!"
-
-The parlor-door opened, and the man entered; decidedly good-looking,
-dark, with a fresh color in his face, and with black hair curling
-naturally. The first impression was favorable, and Dan nodded
-approvingly to himself. The man had curiously flat feet, which, when
-he walked, seemed to do all the work without any assistance from
-his legs; and although his eyes were keen and bright, they did not
-look long at one object, but shifted restlessly, as if seeking a
-hiding-place where they could retire from public gaze.
-
-"I have been attracted by the birds in the window," he said, coming at
-once to to the point, much to Dan's satisfaction. "Can they really
-perform what the paper says? Can they really sing 'God save the King,'
-and draw up their own food and water?"
-
-"They can do all that sir; but you shall see for yourself.--Ellen!
-Where is Ellen?" Dan called; for he wanted her to assist him, and she
-had not followed the stranger into the room.
-
-"Ah, Ellen," said the stranger, dwelling on the name. "Is that the
-young lady who opened the door for me?"
-
-"Yes, sir.--Ellen!" Dan called again.
-
-"Allow me," said the stranger; and he went to the door, and called in
-tones which slipped from his throat as if it was oiled, "Ellen!
-Ellen!" Then he turned to Dan, and questioned: "Your sister?"
-
-"Yes, sir."
-
-"Ah," said the man greasily, "she is extremely like you. Allow me. I
-will bring the cage to the table."
-
-He brought the cage from the window, and placed it before Dan. At that
-moment Ellen entered the room. The man's eyes wandered all over her as
-she took her seat at the table. She did not return his gaze, but bent
-her head modestly to her work.
-
-"Your sister's name is Ellen," he said, "and yours?"
-
-"Daniel," said Dan; "Daniel Taylor."
-
-"Daniel; a scriptural name. Mine is also a Scriptural name: Solomon,
-Solomon Fewster. Solomon was a wise man; I hope I take after him."
-
-"I hope so, I am sure, sir," said Dan somewhat impatiently; for he was
-anxious to get to business. "Now, sir, if you will please to look and
-listen."
-
-He blew through the tin whistle; and the bullfinches piped "God save
-the King."
-
-"Very pretty, very pretty," said Solomon Fewster, nodding his head to
-the music. "And you taught them yourself?"
-
-"Yes, sir. But it isn't as if they will only sing for me; they will
-sing for you, or for Ellen, or for any one who blows the whistle."
-
-"And they will sing for Ellen if she breathes into the whistle?" said
-Solomon Fewster. "Will Ellen breathe into the whistle with her pretty
-red lips? Allow me."
-
-He took the whistle from Dan and handed it to Ellen; and she
-reluctantly gave the signal to the birds, who willingly obeyed it.
-Fewster took the whistle from her and blew; and the birds for the
-third time piped the air. Then Dan directed his attention to the
-wooden whistle, and to the wonders performed by the birds at its
-dictation. Nothing would please Mr. Fewster but that Ellen should
-place the wooden whistle between her "pretty red lips," as he called
-them again, and "breathe into it." He said that "breathe" was more
-appropriate to Ellen's pretty lips than "blow." He, using the whistle
-after her, cast upon her such admiring looks, that he really made her
-uncomfortable. The performance being over, Dan gazed at Mr. Fewster
-with undisguised anxiety. He had intended to be very cunning, and to
-appear as if he did not care whether he sold the birds or not; but the
-effort was unsuccessful.
-
-"Well, well," said Mr. Fewster; "and they are really for sale? Poor
-little things! I asked the price of bullfinches yesterday at a
-bird-fancier's, and the man offered to sell them for four pence each.
-Not that these are not worth a little more. There is the trouble of
-training them; of course that is worth a trifle. Still bullfinches are
-bullfinches all the world over; and bullfinches, I believe, are very
-plentiful just now--quite a glut of them in the market." He paused, to
-allow this information to settle in Dan's mind, before he asked, "Now
-what do you want a pair for these?"
-
-"What do you think they are worth, sir?" asked Dan, much depressed by
-Mr. Fewster's mode of bargaining.
-
-"No, no, Daniel Taylor," said Mr. Fewster, in a bantering tone, "I am
-too old a bird for that; not to be caught. Remember my namesake. You
-couldn't have caught him, you know; even the Queen of Sheba couldn't
-catch _him_. I can't be buyer and seller too. Put your price upon the
-birds; and I will tell you if they suit me."
-
-"You see, sir," said Dan frankly, "you puzzle me. The training of
-these birds has taken me a long time. You would be surprised if you
-knew how patient I have to be with them. And you puzzle me when you
-make so light a thing of my teaching, and when you tell me that
-bullfinches are a glut in the market. If the bullfinches you can get
-in the market will suit you, sir, why do you not buy them?"
-
-"Well put, Daniel, well put," said Mr. Fewster good-humoredly. "Still,
-you _must_ fix a price on them, you know. How much shall we say?"
-
-"Fifteen shillings the pair," said Dan boldly.
-
-Mr. Fewster gave a long whistle, and threw himself into an attitude of
-surprise. Dan shifted in his seat uneasily.
-
-"A long price," said Mr. Fewster, when he had recovered himself; "a
-very long price."
-
-"I couldn't take less, sir," said Dan.
-
-"Not ten shillings? Couldn't you take ten shillings?" suggested Mr.
-Fewster, throwing his head on one side insinuatingly.
-
-There was something almost imploring in the expression on Dan's face
-as he said,--
-
-"No, sir, I don't think I could. You haven't any idea what a time they
-have taken me to train. I hoped to get more for them."
-
-"I tell you what," said Mr. Fewster, with sudden animation. "Ellen
-shall decide with her pretty red lips. What do you say, Ellen? Shall I
-give fifteen shillings for them?"
-
-"They are worth it, I am sure, sir," said Ellen timidly.
-
-"That settles it," said Mr. Fewster gallantly. "Here is the money."
-
-And laying the money on the table, Mr. Fewster took the cage, and
-shaking hands with Dan, and pressing Ellen's fingers tenderly, bade
-them good-morning.
-
-Dan's delight may be imagined. It was intensified a few day's
-afterwards, when Mr. Fewster called again, and bought another pair of
-birds; Mr. Fewster at the same time informed Dan that it was likely he
-might become a constant customer; and so he proved to be.
-
-In the course of a short time, Dan found himself in receipt of a
-regular income. Other customers came, but Dan could not supply them
-all, as Mr. Fewster bought the birds almost as soon as they were
-trained. Very soon Dan thought himself justified in making a proposal
-to Susan. The proposal was that they should all live together in the
-house where Dan carried on his business. The only obstacle to the
-carrying out of the arrangement was Susan's determination not to leave
-Basil and Minnie Kindred. But why should not Basil Kindred and his
-daughter come as well? asked Dan; there was plenty of room for them,
-and it would be such company. And after the lapse of a little time,
-the result that Dan wished for was accomplished, and Basil and Minnie
-and Susan were living with them. They were a very happy family. The
-parlor-window had been altered to allow more space for the bird-cages;
-and Dan, looking around sometimes upon the group of happy faces, would
-remark that it was almost like a romance.
-
-And so indeed it was, notwithstanding that the scene was laid in the
-humblest of humble localities.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIV.
-THE STRANGE COURSES OF LOVE.
-
-
-Perhaps one of the most absurd questions that could be put to a person
-would be to ask him how old he was when he was born. Yet the little
-old-men's faces possessed by some babies might furnish an excuse for
-such a question. The shrewd look, the cunning twinkle, the pinched
-nose, the peaked chin, the very wrinkles--you see them all, though the
-child be but a few weeks old. All the signs of worldly cunning and
-worldly wisdom are there, ready made, unbought by worldly experience;
-and as you look at them and wonder how old the little child-man really
-is, the object of your curiosity returns your look with scarcely less
-speculation in his eye than you have in yours. You are conscious that
-you are no match, except in physical strength, for the little fellow
-lying in his mother's lap or sprawling in his cradle; and a curious
-compound of pity and humiliation afflicts you in consequence.
-
-Some such a child as this was Solomon Fewster before he attained to
-the dignity of boyhood; his parents and their friends agreed in
-declaring that he was a cunning little fellow, a knowing little
-fellow; they would poke their fingers in the fat creases of his neck,
-and would sportively say, "Oh, you cunning little rogue!" "You knowing
-little rogue!" and he would crow and laugh, and endeavor to utter the
-words after them. He was so accustomed to the phrase, and grew to be
-so fond of it, that when he was old enough to understand its meaning,
-his chief desire seemed to be to prove himself worthy of it. It falls
-to the lot of but very few of us to compass our desires. Solomon
-Fewster was one of the fortunate exceptions. He was dubbed a cunning
-little rogue, before he knew what such praise meant; and (could it be
-that he was unwilling to trade under false pretences?) when he did
-know, he educated himself to deserve it, and succeeded. A small
-percentage of the old-men babies retain their old-men's looks as they
-grow to boyhood; specimens of these can be seen any day in our courts
-and alleys. This was not the case with Solomon Fewster; as he grew,
-the old-man's look faded from his face, and the spirit of "a cunning
-little rogue" took root in his heart, and flourished there. His
-parents dying when he was a child, he was left to the charge of a
-bachelor uncle, an undertaker by trade, who adopted and educated him.
-When he was taken from school--where he was the cunningest boy of them
-all--he was initiated into the mysteries of the undertaking business,
-and when he was of age he was intrusted with a responsible position,
-and his uncle made a will leaving every thing to him. He proved
-himself an invaluable ally; was grieved to the heart at the losses
-sustained by his uncle's customers; wept when he assisted at
-measurements; was broken-hearted when the clay was taken from the
-house; and sobbed with an almost utter prostration of spirit when he
-receipted the account, and signed Payment in Full. He entered heart
-and soul into the business, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Whether it was
-because he looked upon himself as the future master of the
-establishment, or because it was congenial to his nature, he strove by
-every means in his power to extend the connection; and being as acute
-and sensible as a man of double his age, his efforts were successful
-and the business flourished. Death was most obliging to him, and
-waited and fawned upon him at every step he took. If his spirits
-became depressed because trade was slack, a fortunate epidemic
-restored him to his usual cheerfulness, and orders poured in; and it
-is no disparagement of him, as an undertaker, to state that he buried
-his friends and acquaintances with melancholy satisfaction. When he
-was twenty-three years of age his uncle died. He paid the old
-gentleman every possible mark of respect: had the coffin lined with
-white satin; wept till his face was puffed; entered the expense of the
-funeral in the ledger to the debit of the deceased, and wiped off the
-amount at once as a bad debt. Then he set to work vigorously upon his
-own account. He had his name painted over the door, and issued
-circulars to every house for miles round. In those circulars he
-announced that he undertook and conducted funerals cheaper than any
-other undertaker in London; said that one trial would prove the fact;
-and respectfully solicited the patronage of his friends and the
-public. His appeal was successful; his trade increased; and Solomon
-Fewster was generally spoken of as a man on the high-road to
-prosperity.
-
-When Solomon Fewster first saw Ellen, she was seventeen years of age,
-and he was seized with a sudden admiration for her pretty face and
-graceful figure. He had never seen a girl so winsome; and when they
-met again, he followed her admiringly to her home, and saw the
-exhibition of the bullfinches in Dan's window. Here was an opportunity
-to stare at her; and he enjoyed the cheap pleasure again and again
-until Dan noticed his face at the window. Then a happy thought entered
-Mr. Fewster's mind. The birds certainly were wonderfully intelligent,
-and their clever tricks would most likely render them easy of
-disposal. He entered into communication with a West-end fashionable
-bird-fancier--the farther away from Dan the better, he thought--and
-the bird-fancier (who had a connection among fine ladies) informed him
-that if the birds could really do all that he stated, a profitable
-trade might be established between them. "What a fine opportunity,"
-thought Solomon Fewster, "of introducing myself to the pretty girl in
-the light of a benefactor!" Then came the first interview and the
-first purchase. The pair of bullfinches he bought for fifteen
-shillings he sold for thirty; and the following week the fashionable
-bird-fancier asked for more. Thus it was that Solomon Fewster made his
-growing passion for Ellen a means of putting money in his purse; and
-thus it was that he came to be looked upon as a privileged visitor to
-the house.
-
-The Old Sailor also found his way to the house. He was not as frequent
-a visitor as Mr. Fewster, but he was a more welcome one. The Old
-Sailor might have been a child, his heart was so green; and he had
-such a fund of stories to tell, and he told them with such simplicity
-and enthusiasm, believing in them thoroughly, however wild they were,
-that his hearers would hang upon his words, and laugh with him, and
-sorrow with him according to the nature of his narrative. They spent
-the pleasantest of pleasant evenings together, and when Praiseworthy
-Meddler told his sea-stories, Minnie would sit very quiet on the
-floor--a favorite fashion of hers--listening eagerly to every word
-that dropped from his lips. Then Basil Kindred would read Shakspeare
-when he could be coaxed into the humor, and would keep them
-spell-bound by his eloquence. He had ceased wandering in the streets
-and begging for his living. Necessity was his master there. He was
-stricken down with rheumatic fever, which so prostrated him that he
-was unable to pursue his vagrant career. They had a very hard task in
-inducing him to remain with them.
-
-"Live upon you, my dear lad!" he exclaimed loftily. "No; I will perish
-first!"
-
-"There is enough for all, sir," replied Dan. "Do not go. I would take
-from you--indeed, indeed I would!--could we change places. And there
-is Minnie, sir,"--with such a wistful tender glance towards Minnie,
-who was growing very beautiful,--"what would she do? But not for her
-nor for you do I ask this, sir. It is for me; for Ellen and Susan and
-Joshua. How happy he will be to find you here when he returns! You and
-Minnie, that he talked of so often, and with such affection! Then
-think, sir. You would not like to be the means of breaking up our
-little happy circle; and it is happy, isn't it, Minnie?"
-
-"Ah, yes, Dan!" replied Minnie, with an anxious look at her father.
-"Only one is wanting to make it perfect."
-
-"And that one is Joshua," said Dan, divining whom she meant, and
-grateful to her for the thought.
-
-"And that one is Joshua," she repeated softly, placing her shell to
-his ear. "Do you hear it? Is it not sweet, the singing of the sea?"
-
-But all argument and entreaty would have been thrown away upon Basil
-if it had not been for Minnie. It was she who, when they were alone,
-prevailed upon him to stay.
-
-"Your mother suffered for me and died for me," he said to her, as he
-lay upon his bed of pain. "How like her you are growing, Minnie! Well,
-well, one is enough. I will stay, child, for your sake."
-
-And she kissed him and thanked him, and whispered that he had made her
-happy.
-
-The next day she told Dan in a whisper that father was not going away;
-and Dan clapped his hands, and quietly said, "Bravo!"
-
-"And Joshua used to speak about us?" she remarked, with assumed
-carelessness.
-
-"Often and often, Minnie," answered Dan.
-
-"And really speak of us affectionately?"
-
-"Ah if you had only heard him! You know what a voice he has--like
-music."
-
-A sudden flush in her face, a rapid beating at her heart, a rush of
-tears to her eyes. None of which did Dan notice, for her eyes were
-towards the ground. A little while afterwards she was singing about
-the house as blithe as a bird. Dan, stopping in the midst of his work,
-listened to the soft rustle of her dress in the passage, and to her
-soft singing as she went up the stairs; and a grateful look stole into
-his eyes.
-
-"Not to hear that!" he said. "Ah, it would be worse than death! But
-she is going to stay, birdie," nodding gayly to one of his pets; "she
-is going to stay!"
-
-Dan told Minnie of the pretty fancies he had in connection with his
-friend; of the manner in which his love had grown, until it was welded
-in his heart for ever and ever; of Joshua's care and self-devotion
-towards him, the poor useless cripple. He told her of his fancy about
-the dream-theory, and how he had believed in it, and of the
-experiments he had made. And Minnie listened with delight, and
-sympathized with Dan--ay, and shed tears with him--and showed in every
-word she uttered how thoroughly she understood his feelings.
-
-"I have dreamed of him over and over again," said Dan; "but of course
-I don't know, and indeed I can't believe, that I have dreamed of him
-as he is. He is a man by this time, Minnie; and--let me see!--he is
-standing on his ship, with his bright eyes and handsome face"--
-
-"Yes!" interrupted Minnie eagerly. "Made brighter and handsomer by
-living on the open sea and away from narrow streets. I can see the
-spray dashing up into his eyes, and he shaking it off laughing the
-while."
-
-"Yes, yes!" said Minnie enthusiastically. "You can see him too,
-Minnie. I feel that you can. Is he not handsome and brave? I can hear
-him say, as he looks round upon the grand sea and up at the beautiful
-clouds,--I can hear him say, 'Dan is here with me, although I cannot
-see him.' He has me in his heart, as I have him. It was a compact. We
-were to be always together, and we are. Dear Jo!" He paused a while,
-and Minnie, her hands clasped in her lap, gazed before her, and saw
-the picture painted by Dan's words. Many such conversations they had,
-and the theme was always the same.
-
-Shortly after the death of Mr. Taylor the Old Sailor came to see the
-children. He did not know of the loss they had sustained; and when he
-heard that both father and mother were dead, he was much grieved. The
-news so disconcerted him that he rose to go three or four times, and
-each time sat down again, as if he had something on his mind he wished
-to get rid of first. As a proof that he was mentally disturbed, he
-dabbed his face more frequently than usual with his blue-cotton
-pocket-handkerchief, folding it up carefully before he put it in the
-breast of his shirt, as if he were folding up his secret in it, and
-afterwards taking it out and unfolding it, as if he had made up his
-mind at last to disclose what that secret was. When he found courage
-to speak, Dan learned that the bullfinches which Joshua and he had
-presented to the Old Sailor were dead.
-
-"Died yesterday morning, my lad," said the Old Sailor; "died just as
-we were beginning to understand each other. Sailor birds they were,
-and they could climb ropes as well as any bird in the service."
-
-"I am sorry they are dead, sir," said Dan; "but I can give you another
-pair."
-
-"No, Dan, no. I'll not have any more; they wouldn't be safe."
-
-"Not safe?"
-
-"There was a mutineer in the crew, my lad," said the Old Sailor,
-dropping his voice. "It comes awkward for me to tell you; but you
-ought to know--and duty before every thing. The pretty birds were
-poisoned."
-
-"Who could have been so cruel as to poison the innocent creatures?"
-asked Dan sorrowfully.
-
-"That damned copper-colored eon of a thief who cooked for me!" replied
-the Old Sailor excitedly. "You saw him when you were on my ship. He
-had rings in his ears."
-
-"I remember. He was a Lascar, you told us."
-
-"The treacherous dog!" exclaimed the Old Sailor wrathfully, dabbing
-his face. "But I did what was right to him. I flogged him with a
-rope's end till he couldn't stand."
-
-"He knew that Joshua gave you the birds, sir?"
-
-"Ay, he knew it. To tell you the truth, my lad, I christened the birds
-Josh and Dan, and used to call them by their names. They were as
-sensible as human beings, and I gave them decent burial. I sewed them
-in canvas, and weighted it with shot, and slipped it off a plank. I'll
-not have any more of them, Dan. That lubberly thief would crawl on
-board one night and murder them too. No, no, my lad; no more birds for
-me."
-
-"Well, then, I'll tell you what we'll do," said Dan. "I will give you
-another pair of birds, and I will keep them for you, and you will come
-here sometimes and see how they are getting along. That's a good idea,
-isn't it, sir?"
-
-The Old Sailor admitted that it was, and thus it fell out that he
-became a visitor to the house. Dan bought a toy ship, with sails and
-masts and slender ropes all complete, and taught the birds to climb
-the ropes and masts, which they did deftly, although not in sailor
-fashion, hand-over-hand; and his thoughtful conceit filled the Old
-Sailor with infinite delight.
-
-It was Susan's good fortune not to meet the Lascar for many months
-after the eventful occurrence in which Joshua had played so prominent
-a part. But one evening, when she and Ellen were returning home, she
-met him face to face.
-
-"Stop!" cried the Lascar, noticing Susan's agitation with secret
-pleasure. "You don't forget me, do you?"
-
-Ellen, raising her eyes, saw and recognized the Lascar, and was
-recognized by him at the same moment.
-
-"Ah!" he said, "I remember you. You came one day with a lame boy and
-that young thief Joshua Marvel--curse him!--to see Mr. Meddler's
-boat."
-
-Ellen tried to hurry Susan along, but the Lascar stood directly in
-their path.
-
-"Not yet, my beauty. You are about the prettiest girl I've ever seen.
-What's your name?"
-
-Ellen was not so overcome with fear as to entirely lose her
-self-possession. Had she been alone, she would have run away. But
-Susan was clinging to her, almost fainting with terror. On the
-opposite side of the road she saw a man walking towards them.
-
-"Help!" she cried; but she could have bitten her lip with vexation
-when she found that it was Solomon Fewster who responded to her
-appeal. However, there Solomon Fewster was, ready to grapple with the
-enemy and to die in Ellen's defence. The occasion for a display of
-heroism was as good as he could have desired.
-
-"Where is he?" he cried valiantly; "where's the villain who has dared
-to frighten my pretty Ellen?"
-
-He said this with such a presumptuous air of being her defender by
-natural right, that Ellen was annoyed and displeased. But she could
-not be uncivil to him. She thanked him for coming to their help, and
-he asked to be allowed to see them home. But Ellen refused, and
-although he pleaded hard, she was firm.
-
-She was especially angry because of his calling her his pretty Ellen.
-Glad as she would have been of a protector, she rightly thought that
-it would be giving Mr. Fewster encouragement if she allowed him to
-assume that office. So, with many distressingly-tender protestations,
-he took his departure, congratulating himself upon the adventure, and
-Susan and Ellen walked homewards.
-
-Ellen was very anxious to know all about the Lascar, and why Susan was
-frightened at him. Susan told her all, and Ellen's face glowed with
-delight at Joshua's courage.
-
-"Brave Joshua!" she exclaimed. "Isn't he a hero, Susan?"
-
-Notwithstanding that she had not recovered from her fright at meeting
-the Lascar, Susan could not help smiling at Ellen's enthusiasm.
-
-"He was to be away a year," said Ellen, "and it is now two years and
-four months."
-
-"And how many weeks, and how many days, and how many hours?"
-interrupted Susan, half gayly. "You could tell, I dare say. Ellen,
-couldn't you, if you were put to it?" Ellen looked shyly at Susan.
-"What a change he will find in you, my dear!" Susan continued
-tenderly. "In the place of a plain little girl he will find a very
-pretty woman."
-
-"O Susey! calling me a woman!"
-
-"Well, you are, dear, or you will be when he comes back. I wonder"--
-
-But Susan did not say what it was she wondered at, but stopped, most
-unaccountably, in the middle of the street and kissed Ellen in a
-motherly kind of way. The caress set Ellen a-blushing, and she fell
-into a state of happy musing. They were very near home when a voice at
-their side said,--
-
-"You thought you had escaped me, eh?"
-
-It was the voice of the Lascar, who had dogged them until he found an
-opportunity of speaking to them without attracting attention. Their
-hearts beat fast, but they did not turn their heads.
-
-"Don't say a word," whispered Ellen, "don't speak, don't stop, don't
-look! We shall be home directly."
-
-"So Joshua Marvel hasn't come back yet," he said with bitter emphasis.
-"He is a long time gone; but wait till he comes. I go every day to see
-the cross I put against him, and it grows brighter and brighter. I
-curse him every night. Perhaps he thinks that I forget. He shall see
-if I do." He gasped this at intervals, for the girls were now almost
-running in their terror. "Tell him," hissed the Lascar, "when he comes
-that that I poisoned at old thief's birds because Joshua gave them to
-him, and because the old thief used to call one of them by his name.
-Curse him! And you!" he exclaimed savagely, touching Susan's arm. "See
-you--remember! My shadow follows you from this day, you damned witch!
-for it was because of you that he came across me. Oh, you live there,
-do you? Dream of my shadow, you cat, to-night. It shall stand at your
-bedside. Blot it out if you can."
-
-He had worked himself into a horrible rage; his passion made a madman
-of him; yet he did not attempt to stop them as they darted in at the
-door, but stood aside and looked at the house, and marked it and
-lingered about it for half an hour afterwards. In the mean time Ellen
-and Susan had run into their bedroom and locked the door. It was a
-long time before they recovered from their agitation. Susan was in an
-agony of terror; all her old fears came with stronger force upon her.
-She pressed her fingers upon her eyes and threw herself upon the
-ground, shuddering and moaning.
-
-"Do you see his shadow, Ellen?" she moaned. "Do you see it?"
-
-"There is nothing in the room but you and me, dear Susey," said Ellen,
-smoothing Susan's hair, and striving by every means to soothe her.
-"Why, I am braver than you, and I am ever so much younger. What have
-we to be afraid of? A drunken man! You stupid Susey! And as for
-shadows, who believes in them?"
-
-"I do. I have seen them and felt them. I have heard them creeping
-after me in the dark, and I have been frightened to turn. I have felt
-their breath upon my face--and it is like death--like death!"
-
-All Ellen's efforts to tranquillize her were unavailing. Susan did not
-leave her room again that evening, and during the night that followed
-she awoke a dozen times, and her fevered imagination conjured up the
-shadow of the Lascar standing at her bedside, pointing to a cross of
-blood which shone with cruel distinctness in the midst of the
-darkness.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XV.
-SOLOMON FEWSTER GIVES THE LASCAR A FLOWER.
-
-
-Early in the new year letters from Joshua reached home. With what joy
-they were read! In one of them he wrote: "I remember saying that I
-should be home in twelve months; but that time has passed, and another
-twelve months, and nearly another, and still there is no talk of
-returning. If I stay away much longer you won't know me when you see
-me. Upon my word, I think if I were to open the door now and walk in
-suddenly, you would be puzzled to know whether I was really myself or
-somebody else."
-
-When they read this they all raised their heads and looked towards the
-door, wishing that Joshua would turn the handle and walk into the
-room.
-
-The evening of the day on which the letters arrived was spent in grand
-state in Dan's house. Every member of the Marvel family was there, and
-the Old Sailor, and Solomon Fewster as well; so that the little parlor
-was quite full, and all the chairs had to be brought from the bedroom
-and the kitchen to provide seats for the company. The letters were
-read aloud, and commented upon and rejoiced over.
-
-"It isn't as good as Joshua's being here," said Dan, looking round
-with a happy face; "but it is next door to it. I tell you what pleases
-me almost as much as any thing in the letters--it is that Jo's a
-favorite with the men. Hear what he says: 'I play to them on my
-accordion two or three times a week, and according to them I am a
-splendid musician--which I am not, you know, for I only play simple
-tunes. Last week the captain sent for me and told me that some
-passengers who were on board wanted to dance, and wished me to play
-for them. Of course I fetched the accordion at once. You should have
-seen us! I played for them twice after that night; and yesterday when
-we arrived at Sydney--Oh, Dan such a lovely place, with such a
-bay!--they gave me a sovereign, which I put into Ellen's purse. Tell
-Ellen that!'"
-
-A blush came into Ellen's face, and her heart beat more quickly, when
-she heard that Joshua was so careful of the purse she had worked for
-him.
-
-Filled with such like matter, the letters could not fail to be a
-source of delight. Dan was commissioned to give Joshua's love to
-Ellen, and Ellen was asked to pay a visit to the Old Sailor, and to
-tell him that Joshua was doing hie duty. Susan received messages for
-Basil and Minnie, and was to tell Minnie that Joshua would bring her
-some beautiful shells--"shells in which Minnie can hear the waves
-singing to each other in whispers," Joshua wrote, almost poetically.
-
-Minnie, sitting in her corner, scarcely spoke a word; she was thinking
-of the sailor-lad who had been so kind to her, and she was looking
-with the eyes of her mind upon the picture which Dan had painted of
-Joshua, with his handsome face and free waving hair, standing on the
-deck, and laughingly shaking the spray from his eyes.
-
-The Old Sailor nodded approval as the letters were read, and then
-traced Joshua's course on a map which he had brought with him,
-stopping many times to tell the eager on-lookers of the wonders and
-the glories of the beautiful South Pacific. The map was spread on the
-table, and it was not an unattractive picture to see them all
-clustered round the Old Sailor, peeping over his shoulders and under
-his arms, as with his great forefinger he followed the ship from port
-to port. Mrs. Marvel, who had taken to spectacles, found them of but
-little use to her on this occasion, for the obstinate tears came into
-her eyes and dropped into the ocean which the Old Sailor's forefinger
-was ploughing. Minnie leaned over Dan's shoulder, and the table was so
-small that she had to put her arm round Dan's neck and to put her face
-close to his, so that she might see. A strange feeling of happiness
-came upon Dan as her cheek nestled close to his; a feeling of
-happiness so exquisite that all his senses were merged in it. The
-common parlor, the eager faces peering at the map, the pleasant voice
-of the Old Sailor explaining the route, all faded from before him, and
-he was conscious of nothing but Minnie's presence. He felt the warm
-contact of a soft hand; it was Minnie's hand, which in her eager
-abstraction she had placed on his. He folded it in his, and she
-allowed it to rest there. It was like a dream. He feared to move
-and held his breath lest he should awake. A sudden murmur of
-voices--voices that sounded for a moment as if they came from afar
-off--aroused him; he looked into Minnie's face, and saw it lighted up
-with a happiness that seemed to be a reflex of his own; and as she
-turned her eyes to his, so luminous a beauty dwelt in them that he
-could have fallen at her feet and worshipped her. But the dream was at
-an end--the blissful silence which had encompassed him was invaded.
-Minnie had returned to her corner, and his friends were speaking
-together, and laughing and appealing to him upon some point which he
-had not heard. Dan still felt the warm pressure of Minnie's hand and
-the soft contact of her cheek; and unobserved he rested his lips upon
-the palm which had clasped hers, and kissed it softly and wonderingly.
-
-There was only one person in the party who did not feel happy. That
-one was Solomon Fewster. Directly he entered the room he had been
-greeted with the joyful tidings; and understanding that he was
-expected to share in the general excitement of pleasure, he professed
-a delight which he did not experience. That afternoon he had purchased
-a rare flower, which it was his intention to present to Ellen. He had
-brooded over the idea for several days, and had decided that it would
-be a good thing to do. As he entered the room with the flower in the
-button-hole of his coat, he was already primed with a few
-complimentary words which he had learned by heart to say to Ellen,
-when he presented his gift. Ellen had never before looked so pretty,
-he thought. Her eyes were brighter, and there was a more joyous
-animation than usual in her manner. She greeted him with a smile so
-much more gracious than he was accustomed to receive from her, that he
-congratulated himself upon the purchase of the flower. She gave him
-her hand with more than her usual warmth, and when he ventured gently
-to press it, she did not resent the liberty. The fact was, she did not
-notice it. She was full of joy, and, as is the case with all amiable
-natures, she dispensed gleams of her happiness to all with whom
-she came in contact. Unless we are too much engrossed in our own
-special cares, we sometimes meet with such like happy faces in
-the streets--faces which seem to say, "We are happy; be happy with
-us"--faces which, although quite strange to us, which we have never
-seen before and may never see again, will kindle with a smile of
-welcome upon the smallest encouragement.
-
-But Solomon Fewster was terribly discomfited when he learned the
-reason of her cheerfulness and animation; it was because letters had
-been received from Joshua. He determined not to present his flower
-just then, for he read something in Ellen's blushes that sorely galled
-him. He could not help thinking that the fuss they were making about a
-common sailor-boy, and the laughing and the crying they indulged in
-over Joshua's stupid letters, were utterly ridiculous, and in a sort
-of way derogatory to himself, Dan's best patron.
-
-As the night wore on, his anger and uneasiness increased; and yet he
-lingered until the last moment, torturing himself with all kinds of
-speculations as to what was the nature of the feeling that Ellen
-entertained for Joshua. Every expression of gladness that fell from
-her lips concerning Joshua and Joshua's career was painful to him, and
-it was with a bitter heart that he left the house, with the flower
-still in his coat. He was hot and feverish as he closed the
-street-door behind him, and he was not sorry to find that a heavy rain
-was falling. He took off his hat and bared his head to the rain.
-Within the house he had been compelled to repress expression of his
-feelings; it was a relief to him now to feel that no one was by, and
-that he could speak out at last. And the first words he uttered, as he
-smoothed his wet hair and put on his hat, were, "Damn Joshua Marvel! I
-would give money to drown him!" As he spoke the words aloud, he was
-conscious of a slouching figure at his side. Although it was raining,
-the night was not quite dark there was enough light for him to notice
-that the man who had approached him was in rags--most probably a
-beggar. Muttering that he had nothing to give, Solomon Fewster walked
-on. But the man was not to be so easily shaken off, and Mr. Fewster
-being in an eminently quarrelsome mood turned upon him, and repeated
-in no civil tone that he had nothing to give.
-
-"I have not asked you for any thing," said the man, surlily, "though
-if I had, you might speak to me more civilly, Mr. Fewster."
-
-They were passing a lamp-post, and, attracted by the utterance of his
-name, Mr. Fewster stopped and said,--
-
-"How do you know my name?"
-
-"I know it; that is enough," was the answer.
-
-"Ah!" said Mr. Fewster, regarding the Lascar with curiosity and
-recognizing him, "I have seen you before, my man."
-
-"That is not saying much against me, master," said the Lascar, rather
-sneeringly. "I have seen _you_ before; so we're equal.
-
-"And whenever I have seen you, it has been in this street," continued
-Mr. Fewster.
-
-"And pretty well whenever I have seen you, it has been in this
-street," retorted the Lascar; "you seem to be as fond of it as I am."
-
-"And generally of a night."
-
-"The same to you master; and what then? The street is free to me as it
-is to you. Look you. I know more than you are aware of. If it comes to
-that, why do you go so often to that house?" The sudden look of
-discomposure that flashed into Mr. Fewster's face was not lost upon
-the Lascar, who had seen him walking by Ellen's side more than once,
-and who had stealthily followed them on every occasion. "Look you,
-master. What one man does for love, another man does for hate."
-
-"Hate of whom? What do you mean?"
-
-"The people in that house have received letters from Joshua Marvel
-to-day."
-
-"Well, what of that?"
-
-"What of that!" cried the Lascar, in a voice of suppressed passion,
-and yet with a cunning watchfulness of Mr. Fewster's face, as if he
-were watching for a cue to speak more plainly. "Well, nothing much,
-master; except that I should like to know when the cub is coming
-home."
-
-Mr. Fewster could not help an expression of satisfaction passing into
-his eyes as he heard Joshua spoken of as a cub, and the Lascar saw it
-and took his cue from it.
-
-"What do you want to know for? What is Joshua Marvel to you?"
-
-"He is this to me," cried the Lascar, the dark blood rushing into his
-face and making it darker; "that if I had him here, I would stamp upon
-him with my feet, and spoil his beauty for him! He is this to me, that
-if I could twist his heart-strings I would do it, and laugh in his
-face the while! See me now, master; look at me well. I did not ask you
-for money, for I know you, and I know you don't give nothing for
-nothing. But I might have asked you, and with reason, for I want it.
-Look at my feet" (Mr. Fewster noticed, for the first time, that the
-Lascar's feet were bare); "Look at my clothes--rags. That old thief,
-Praiseworthy Meddler, kicked me off his barge where I've lived and
-slept this many a year. And every blow he struck at me went down to
-Joshua Marvel's account, and makes it heavier against him. See you;
-the Lascar dog never forgets. I've sworn an oath, and I'll keep it.
-I've put a cross against him, and he shall see it when he is dying."
-
-Solomon Fewster looked at the wretch before him, quivering with
-passion and shivering with cold, and deliberately cracked his fingers
-one after another. When the operation was concluded, he said, lightly,
-as taking no interest in what the Lascar had said,--
-
-"That is your business, my friend; not mine. I will tell you as far as
-I know about this young gentleman who has served you so well. He is
-not coming home yet a while, I believe--not before the end of the
-year, perhaps. I dare say you'll manage to see him when he does come
-home."
-
-"Yes, I'll manage to see him then," said the Lascar, with a sudden
-quietude of manner and with a furtive rook at Mr. Fewster's face--a
-look which said, "You are trying to deceive me, master; let us see who
-is the more cunning--you or I." Then aloud, "Thank you for answering
-my question. You say it is not your business, this hate of mine for
-Joshua Marvel. Yet there may be something in common between us for
-I've seen you walking with the girl who worships Joshua Marvel."
-
-"How do you know that she worships him?" demanded Mr. Fewster, thrown
-off his guard, his heart beating loud and fast.
-
-"Because I am not blind. I know that as well as I know that you have
-as much cause to hate him as I have. I am like a cat; I watch and
-watch. You are too young, my master, to mask your face; and I have
-seen that in it that you wouldn't like to speak."
-
-"Mind what you are saying," said Mr. Fewster, with his knuckles at his
-teeth; "you are on dangerous ground."
-
-"Why should I mind?" questioned the Lascar, with a curious mixture of
-fierceness and humility in his voice. "My tongue's my own. I have
-nothing to lose: judge you if you have any thing to gain. Mind you, I
-stop at nothing. I am not squeamish. You are a gentleman; I am a
-vagabond. I can do what you daren't. I can help you to what you want,
-perhaps; and you can help me."
-
-The cunning of the Lascar was too deep for Mr. Fewster. The Lascar saw
-as clearly as if he had been told that Solomon Fewster loved Ellen
-Taylor, and he seized instinctively upon Ellen's love for Joshua as
-the lever by which he was to gain power over Mr. Fewster. In the
-present conversation the men were not evenly matched; the Lascar had
-all the advantage on his side. Subtle as Mr. Fewster was, his love
-blinded his judgment, and his hate led him to consider that this man
-might be useful to him.
-
-"I can help you, you tell me," he said. "How?"
-
-"I am cold to the bone," said the shivering wretch. "Treat me to some
-rum."
-
-They walked until they reached a public-house; then Mr. Fewster gave
-the Lascar money.
-
-"Go in and drink, but don't get drunk."
-
-"Ain't you coming in, master?"
-
-"No," said Mr. Fewster, with a look of contempt at the Lascar's
-tatters. "You can buy a bottle of rum, and bring it out with you. And
-mind, when you come out, don't walk by my side; follow me."
-
-Five minutes afterwards they were walking in single file towards Mr.
-Fewster's place of business, where he lived. When they arrived at the
-door, Mr. Fewster hesitated. He wanted to talk to the Lascar, to get
-out of him all he knew about Ellen and Joshua; yet, looking at the
-Lascar, he hesitated. The man divined what was in his mind, and
-said,--
-
-"There is a policeman coming along on the other side of the way. Go to
-him and say, 'Look at this man; I have occasion to speak to him on a
-matter of business; but he is a disreputable dog, and I want you to
-watch the house. Knock in an hour, and if I don't answer, or if you
-hear any noise, force open the door.' Say that to him, or something
-like it, and give him a pint of beer, and you will be all right."
-
-"Come along," said Mr. Fewster, stung by the Lascar's quiet sneer; "I
-am not frightened of you."
-
-"You have no need to be, master. You can use me like a dog, if you
-give me to eat and drink."
-
-"Like a dog!" echoed Mr. Fewster, with a laugh. "Well, suppose I
-regard you in that light; it may be useful."
-
-Mr. Fewster struck a light in the shop, in which there were at least a
-score of coffins--respectable coffins, solemnly black as coffins
-should be, with respectable nails to match.
-
-"Waiting for tenants," he remarked, pleasantly, to the Lascar. "The
-cheap ones--common deal--are in the workshop at the back." Mr. Fewster
-put the candle down upon a coffin, and looked complacently upon his
-wares. "Handsome, are they not? This one, now, with lacquered handles
-and silvered plate for name, age, and virtues, what should you say to
-that?"
-
-"Shouldn't care much for it," said the Lascar, with evident
-repugnance. "It would be more suitable for such as you, master. A
-cheap one--of common deal--will be good enough for me, when my turn
-comes."
-
-"Quite good enough, I should say."
-
-"You are not going to stop here talking, are you?" inquired the
-Lascar, seeing that Mr. Fewster evinced no disposition to move.
-
-"Why, don't you like it, you dog?" retorted Mr. Fewster, with a spice
-of his native humor.
-
-"No, I don't; it smells of worms."
-
-With a pleasant laugh Mr. Fewster led the way into his sitting-room,
-and set light to the fire and lit a second candle.
-
-"This is better," said the Lascar, huddling before the fire. "Ah, this
-is good, this warmth; it is life! Have you ever slept out in the cold,
-master?"
-
-"No, you dog," answered Mr. Fewster.
-
-He had recovered his self-possession and much of his usual equanimity.
-
-"I have; in the cold and wet, for two or three nights together."
-
-"There was the Union," suggested Mr. Fewster.
-
-"I have been there often enough. Sometimes I was too late; sometimes
-there were too many of us; sometimes I didn't care even for that
-shelter."
-
-"Would you like to sleep in my shop? I think I could trust you there."
-
-"I think you might. I shouldn't be likely to steal a coffin. I
-shouldn't care to sleep there, master, and that's flat. If I woke up
-in the dark, I should see dead men lying in the coffins. I wouldn't
-mind it so much if the coffins were plain deal ones; but black--ugh!"
-
-Mr. Fewster laughed loud and long. Coffins were playthings to
-him--toys symbolical of the joys of life. He laughed merrily as he set
-food on the table, the Lascar watching him with greedy eyes the while.
-"Fall to, you dog!" said Mr. Fewster; and like a dog, devoid though of
-a dog's generous nature, the Lascar fell to, and devoured the bread
-and cheese. Meanwhile Mr. Fewster helped himself to a large glass of
-rum. He was one of the soberest of undertakers, who, as a rule, are
-not the soberest of men. He drank but very rarely; but when he did,
-all the worst part of his nature disported itself, in revenge for
-being generally kept so much under control. Now as he drank his
-rum--and he drank it neat--he became savage, vengeful, desperate. He
-had never felt till now how deeply he loved Ellen Taylor. He had loved
-her in a light way from the first, and his love had grown quietly, and
-had been fed by her avoidance of his attentions. Her behavior towards
-him had deepened his love and intensified it. Yet all along,
-notwithstanding that he felt he was not as agreeable in her eyes as he
-would wish to be, he thought that to have he had only to ask. "They,
-poor working people," he thought, "earning just enough to keep them,
-living as it were from hand to mouth, _must_ feel flattered and
-honored by my attention--by the attention of a man who has a
-prosperous business and an account at the bank." As for marriage, he
-had not thought of that till lately. But Ellen had so firmly and so
-steadily repulsed him in any advances he had plucked up courage to
-make, that he had resolved to lower himself and ask her to be his
-wife. Having determined to make the sacrifice, he considered that the
-road was clear to him. He reasoned with himself thus: "She thought
-perhaps that I did not mean honorably by her, and that is the cause of
-her treating me so coldly; but when she learns my real intentions she
-cannot but feel flattered, and must accept me."
-
-He thought over these things as he sat before the fire entirely
-engrossed by love for Ellen and hate for Joshua. The Lascar had helped
-himself to the spirits, and as Mr. Fewster sat studying the fire, he
-sat studying his host. That it was a study that interested him and
-pleased him was evident from the satisfied expression in his face, and
-from the satisfied manner in which he rubbed his hands gently over one
-another.
-
-"Well, you dog!" exclaimed Mr. Fewster insolently.
-
-"Well, master?" replied the Lascar meekly.
-
-"Have you had enough, you dog?"
-
-"Plenty, thank you, master."
-
-The Master took another drink of rum, and the Dog followed suit. The
-Master regarded the Dog with a contemptuous assumption of superiority.
-The Dog regarded the Master with becoming humbleness. But the Dog had
-the best of it, although he did cast down his eyes.
-
-"Look up, you dog," said Mr. Fewster.
-
-The Dog looked up.
-
-"What would you do to Joshua Marvel if you had him here, with no one
-by?"
-
-The Lascar, who had been playing idly with the knife with which he had
-cut his supper, raised it, and with a fierce action struck at the air.
-Then, springing to his feet, he threw aside his chair, and kneeling on
-the ground, made motions with his fingers as if he were strangling an
-enemy.
-
-"H-m!" exclaimed Mr. Fewster, looking at the upturned face, blazing
-with vindictiveness, that fronted his. "Dangerous."
-
-"That's my business. I'll risk the danger of it. See you--shall I
-speak plainly?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"This girl that you love worships the man that you and I hate"--
-
-"Say that _you_ hate, you dog," interrupted Mr. Fewster. "I'll have no
-partnership. I am master."
-
-"I ask your pardon, master. The girl that you love worships the man
-that I hate. She is waiting for him to come home; so am I. I have
-sworn death to him. When he comes home, the girl that you love will
-have no eyes for any one but him. What chance will you have with her
-then?"
-
-"Stop. You are too fast. Speak of yourself and of them without
-reference to me. Don't iterate with your damnable tongue about the
-girl that _I_ love. The girl that I love, I'll have"--
-
-"So you shall, master, if I can help you."
-
-"When I want your help, I'll ask for it. Now go on with your story,
-and heed my caution."
-
-With ready wit the Lascar fell into Mr. Fewster's humor.
-
-"This girl that I speak of--as pretty a picture of flesh and blood as
-eyes ever saw--is loved by a gentleman who in a sort of way has
-lowered himself to think of her. But the gentleman has made up his
-mind to have her, and when a gentleman makes up his mind, who shall
-stop him? He goes one night to the house where this pretty girl
-lives--I shouldn't wonder if the very flower that the gentleman wore
-in his button-hole wasn't intended for her"--
-
-"You are a clever dog, you!" said Mr. Fewster, half in anger, half in
-admiration.
-
-"Thank you, master. With the flower in his button-hole the gentleman
-goes to the house where his pretty girl lives, and there he spends the
-evening, and hears read, I dare say, some letters, which she has
-received from his rival, who is a sailor--I only speak from fancy,
-master; set me right if you can."
-
-"How can I set you right when I know nothing about it, you dog, except
-by saying that I shouldn't think it likely _she_ received any
-letters?"
-
-"Thank you, master. My fancy was wrong, I've no doubt. The gentleman,
-then, is obliged to listen to some letters which have been received
-from abroad, and is obliged to listen to affectionate words uttered by
-the girl he loves for his rival far away--mind, master, I don't know
-this, I only suspect it--and he sees, too, in her face, that when her
-sailor-boy comes home, she will open her arms to his rival, to his
-enemy, whom he hates, and would like to see put out of the way."
-
-"How do you know that last?"
-
-"I have seen it in his face; I have heard it in his voice. I happened
-to see the gentleman come out of his sweetheart's house one rainy
-night, not long ago; and I happened to hear the gentleman mutter that
-he would give money if that sailor-lover was drowned."
-
-"If were the gentleman, and you told me this to my face, I should say
-that you lied."
-
-"Of course you would; but what should you know of it? Still, master,
-confess that the story is a likely one as far as it has gone."
-
-"There is more of it to come, then?" asked Mr. Fewster, who had turned
-his back so that the Lascar should not see his face.
-
-"There is more of it to come. But say, first, it is a likely story as
-far as I have told it," said the Lascar a little doggedly.
-
-"It is likely enough. I have heard stories more strange."
-
-"Where did I leave off? Oh! about my hearing this gentleman say, as he
-stood bareheaded in the rain, that he wished his rival were dead. Now
-that was a fortunate hearing for me. Not that I should take advantage
-of what I heard; not that I should go to the pretty girl's brother,
-and then tell him what I had heard the gentleman say about his
-sailor-friend; not that I should go to the pretty girl herself and
-say, 'Beware of the gentleman; he means mischief; if he can ruin your
-lover he will.' That would be a mean thing to do; for it would upset
-the gentleman's chances with the girl that he loves. No; I should go
-to the gentleman and say, 'I hate this absent lover, and any thing
-that I could do to make him suffer, I would do cheerfully. You would
-do the same. But you are a gentleman, and I am a dog. You mustn't be
-seen in the matter. What you want done do through me. Never mind how
-mean it is, how dirty it is; do it through me. And all the return I
-want for it is enough to buy food and shelter, and perhaps a drop of
-grog and a bit of tobacco.' That wouldn't be much to ask in return for
-what I may be able to do for him."
-
-"But no gentleman would compromise himself by entering into a bargain
-with a--a"--
-
-"A dog, master--say a dog; it is good enough for me," interposed the
-Lascar with a careless laugh.
-
-"With a dog like you. I don't see how the affair could be arranged
-with a proper understanding as to what was expected to be done."
-
-"It could be arranged easily enough, master. I might ask the
-gentleman, supposing he had a flower in his button-bole, to give me
-that flower, and not say another word. That would be a proper
-understanding for both of us."
-
-Mr. Fewster rose, and put aside the curtain of the window. The rain
-was coming down hard and fast, and the wind was tearing furiously
-through the streets.
-
-"A fine storm for a ship to be in near rocks, master," said the
-Lascar, who had risen, and was standing by his side.
-
-"It is time for you to be going," said Mr. Fewster, turning abruptly
-away from the window.
-
-"In such a night as this!" exclaimed the Lascar. "And I with no place
-to put my head in?"
-
-"You are homeless, then?" The Lascar nodded. "Well, I take you into my
-service. It would be hard if no one could be found to do a good turn
-for a poor devil like you."
-
-"That it would, master," said the Lascar, standing in an attitude of
-expectation; "and thank you. Could you spare that flower out of your
-coat?"
-
-Blinded by passion, inflamed by jealousy, Mr. Fewster detached the
-flower, and threw it to the Lascar, whose eyes gleamed with
-satisfaction as he put it in his pocket.
-
-"You can sleep in the out-house," said Mr. Fewster; "and as every dog
-should have a kennel, I dare say you can find a coffin to lie in."
-
-"No, thank you, master; I will lie on the ground." He poured what
-remained of the rum into his glass, and raised it to his lips. "Here's
-luck, and my faithful service to you. You may depend upon me, for my
-heart is in my work."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVI.
-CHRISTMAS-EVE AT HOME.
-
-
-A happier party was never assembled within four walls than is now
-gathered together within the four walls of Mr. Marvel's kitchen. That
-it is Christmas-eve is proclaimed by the two little hoops which hang
-from the ceiling, circled by colored Christmas candles; and that the
-kindly influence of the time has fallen in full measure upon the
-wood-turner's house may be read in the faces of George Marvel and his
-family and guests. Sarah Marvel, whose place in this history is but a
-small one, has grown into a comely young woman; and, indeed, the four
-years which have elapsed since Joshua's departure have changed all his
-friends for the better. Those of them who were young when he left are
-no longer boys and girls, except in their hearts, which are as young
-as ever, and which are pulsing with love for the absent hero. Not to
-be absent for long now; for Joshua is coming home. They cannot tell
-the exact day of his arrival; it may be a week yet, or a month; but
-the sails of his ship are spread for dear home. So, as they sit round
-the fire, there is a happy light in their eyes, and they look at each
-other and smile, and laugh musical little laughs.
-
-"It is more than four years ago," said George Marvel, "that one night
-as we were sitting round the fire, as it might be now, Josh said all
-of a sudden, 'I should like to go to sea.' Those were the very words
-he said 'I should like to go to sea.' And it came so sudden-like, that
-mother there began to cry. So you want to be a sailor, Josh? I
-asked. 'Yes,' he answered; 'a sailor first, and then a captain.' Do
-you remember, mother? And now my boy is coming home a man; and here we
-are this happy Christmas-eve, talking of him, and thinking of him, and
-hoping to see him soon after the New Year. Said mother that night,
-'Suppose Josh is shipwrecked, what would you say then?' What would I
-say then? What _did_ I say then? I said that Josh wasn't going to get
-shipwrecked, and that there's more danger on the land than on the sea.
-And I was right, I was; and mother wasn't."
-
-Mrs. Marvel smiled contentedly at the reproof, and nodded in
-confirmation of her husband's words.
-
-"And when Mr. Praiseworthy Meddler came to see us for the first time,"
-continued Mr. Marvel, "he said the very same thing that I said about
-the dangers of the sea. And talking of Mr. Meddler, here he is, I do
-believe; and that makes our party complete."
-
-The last words had been suggested by a great stamping and puffing
-outside in the passage; and presently the door opened, and
-Praiseworthy Meddler, covered with snow, stood in the entrance.
-
-"A merry Christmas to you all!" he said, peeling off his glazed coat.
-"No, no my lasses, don't come near me; you'll spoil your pretty
-ribbons."
-
-But the girls would not be denied, and clustered round him, assisting
-him to take off his coat, and to shake the snow from his cap and hair.
-A pleasant figure he was to look at as he stood there, his honest face
-beaming with health and pleasure, encircling the waists of Ellen and
-Minnie, who nestled to him as confidingly and lovingly as if they were
-his daughters. A sprig of mistletoe hanging over the door caught his
-sight, and he stooped and gallantly kissed the girls, who pretended
-resistance, and sprang laughing from his arms. Then he shook hands all
-round, and taking the seat that was waiting for him near the warmest
-part of the fire, remarked that the snow was two inches thick on the
-pavement, and that it was coming down heavily still. It reminded him
-of a great snow-storm by which he was overtaken in a cruise in the
-north. That, of course, led to entreaties for a snow-story, and the
-Old Sailor, in his homely way, told them a story Of icebergs and
-polar-bears, which kept them entranced for nearly an hour, and which
-was all the more delightful because it ended happily.
-
-The story being concluded, they talked noisily and merrily as to what
-they should do next in honor of Christmas. In the midst of the
-conversation, Ellen, who was sitting next to Dan, felt her hand
-tightly clasped. Looking up, she saw upon his face a listening
-expression of such painful intensity that she asked him, in a whisper,
-what he was listening to. He put his finger to his lips and told
-her--with a strange abstractedness in his manner--that he was going
-out of the room, and that he wished her to come with him without
-attracting attention.
-
-"We shall be back presently," said Ellen to Mrs. Marvel, as she
-assisted Dan with his crutches.
-
-When they were in the passage, she felt that he was trembling, and she
-anxiously asked if he was unwell.
-
-"Not bodily," he answered; "I want to look in the street."
-
-They went to the street-door, and, opening it softly, looked out. The
-snow was falling fast, and the unpretentious houses, covered with
-their white mantle, looked surprisingly quaint and beautiful. A man,
-who passed on the opposite side of the way as they opened the door,
-was the only sign of life beside themselves in the street. The man
-slouched onwards, and dragged his feet along the pavement in a brutish
-kind of way, tearing a black gash in the pure white snow, out of sheer
-wantonness as it seemed. It looked like a desecration.
-
-"Ellen," said Dan, when the man was out of sight, "I would not tell my
-fancies to any one but you. I am not happy. All last night I was
-dreaming of Joshua."
-
-"That was good, dear," said Ellen.
-
-"It was not good, Ellen. My dreams were bad ones. They were too
-confused and indistinct for me to remember them clearly. But the
-impression they left upon me was that Joshua was in danger; I cannot
-tell in what way or from whom. I did not hear a word of the story Mr.
-Meddler just told us. I was thinking of I don't know what--and all of
-a sudden, Ellen, I fancied that I heard Joshua's voice."
-
-"That is because he is so near us."
-
-"Near us? Yes. He is very near us; nearer than you imagine."
-
-"How do you know, dear?"
-
-"I feel that he is; and strange to say, Ellen, the feeling does not
-seem to bring me pleasure."
-
-"O Dan!"
-
-"It is so, Ellen; I cannot help it. That Joshua is near us, I am
-certain. See: is there anybody in the street?"
-
-Ellen looked up and down. No; there was no person to be seen, and she
-said so.
-
-"How beautiful the night is, Dan!"
-
-"Yes, like fairyland, almost," said Dan. "It hurts me to see that
-black track on the other side, where the man was walking. Did you
-notice how he slouched along? Look at that shadow at the end of the
-street. Is it the same man, I wonder?"
-
-The shadow lingered for a few moments, as if undecided which road to
-take, and then disappeared again.
-
-"Dan, dear," whispered Ellen, "you said that you would not tell your
-fancies to any one but me."
-
-"Well, Ellen?"
-
-"May I whisper something, my dear?" she asked very tenderly.
-
-"Yes."
-
-"Would you not tell them to Minnie?"
-
-She was supporting Dan, and his hand was round her neck; a nervous
-twitching of his fingers told her that her question was a momentous
-one.
-
-"Dear Ellen," he answered in an agitated voice, "I do not think I
-would--at least just yet--because--because"--
-
-"Because what, dear?"
-
-"Because I am not sure, Ellen," he said, with a sob which he strove in
-vain to suppress. "Do not say any thing more, dear. My heart is very
-sad."
-
-She obeyed him, and kissed him, and then, with a lingering look at the
-wondrous white outlines of eaves and roofs and at the wondrous white
-carpet with which the earth was clad, they closed the street-door and
-re-entered the kitchen. There they were greeted with the news that
-Basil Kindred was going to describe and read a play to them. The play
-which Basil had selected was Shakspeare's "Tempest," with which none
-of them was acquainted but Minnie and Dan. Minnie clapped her hands in
-delight.
-
-"We will all have characters," she said. "You," to her father, "shall
-be Prospero. You," to the Old Sailor, "shall be Stephano. You," to
-Ellen, "shall be Miranda; and I will be Ariel. What a pity it is that
-Mr. Fewster is not here!--he should be Caliban. If Joshua were here,
-he should be Ferdinand."
-
-"Who is Ferdinand?" asked Ellen.
-
-"Ferdinand is a prince, and is in love with Miran--no!" Minnie
-exclaimed suddenly and impetuously, the blood rising into her face,
-"he should not play Ferdinand; he should not play at all. Look at me.
-I am Ariel."
-
-With a swift motion, she unloosed her hair and let it fall around her
-shoulders. Bewitchingly graceful and bewitchingly beautiful, she bent
-in obeisance to Prospero and said with a happy inspiration,--
-
-"Do you love me, master?"
-
-And he, partly in accordance with her pretty conceit and partly from
-fatherly affection, placed his hand upon her head and answered,--
-
-"Dearly, my delicate Ariel."
-
-Then, motioning her to be silent, Basil Kindred, book in hand,
-commenced to tell the story, reading passages now and again in
-illustration of the beautiful fancy, and giving appropriate vocal
-distinctness to each character; so that his hearers could understand
-without difficulty who it was that was supposed to be speaking. He was
-in his happiest humor, and he lingered lovingly upon the theme. The
-fooling of Trinculo, the brutishness of Caliban, the tenderness of
-Miranda, the majesty of Prospero, the daintiness of Ariel, were all
-faithfully portrayed; and his audience followed the course of the
-story with eager delight. When he had given utterance to that grandest
-of poetical images,
-
-
- "We are such stuff
- As dreams are made of, and our little life
- Is rounded with a sleep."
-
-
-he paused, and a deep silence fell upon the room, a silence that was
-broken by Dan exclaiming,--
-
-"Hark! a knock at the door!"
-
-Was it the magnetism of love that caused their hearts to flutter with
-joy--that caused Mrs. Marvel to rise tremblingly and say that she
-would go and open the door? But her limbs failed her, and Minnie,
-crying, "I will go!" ran out of the room. They below, listening in a
-state of strangely-anxious expectancy, heard Minnie ask "Who is
-there?" and heard her open the door. Almost at the same moment they
-heard a cry of joy, followed immediately by a sharp cry of pain. They
-ran up stairs and saw Minnie kneeling in the snow, supporting on her
-bosom the head of a man dressed in sailor-fashion, and pressing her
-lips to his neck, from which the blood was flowing. The pure snow was
-crimson-stained; and Mrs. Marvel, in an agony of fear falling on her
-knees by Minnie's side, looked into the face of the wounded man, and
-recognized the features of her sailor-boy just returned from sea.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVII.
-THE DOG AND HIS MASTER.
-
-
-Upon that same Christmas-eve Solomon Fewster sat in his room a moody
-unhappy man. He was alone; but if angry thought could have found
-palpable shape, the room would have been thronged with ugly forms. He
-had refused the invitation which Mrs. Marvel had given him to join the
-Christmas party, simply because, when she invited him, she happened to
-say something in joyful tones of Joshua's expected return. The mere
-mention of Joshua's name was sufficient to inflame him; and he had at
-once refused her in a lofty manner, saying that he had another
-engagement for the evening. The Lascar had done his work well. There
-is no death for jealousy: it sleeps, but it never dies. And the Lascar
-had been careful that even the temporary bliss of forgetfulness should
-be denied to his master. Less force of cunning than he was endowed
-with would have served his purpose with such a man as Solomon Fewster.
-
-The good influence of the time did not touch Solomon Fewster's heart.
-He was completely engrossed by two sentiments--love for Ellen, hate
-for Joshua. The very circumstance that upon this Christmas-eve he had
-wilfully deprived himself of the painful pleasure of being in Ellen's
-company he laid to Joshua's door. Every happy face he saw that day
-deepened the hate he bore to Joshua; for if it had not been for that
-absent enemy, he would have been as happy as the best of them. Once
-during the evening he went into the open space at the rear of his
-house, and saw his neighbors' windows lighted up, and heard sounds of
-merriment issue from the rooms. "Who is it that prevents me from being
-as happy as they are?" he muttered. "Who is the cause of my remaining
-here to-night, fretting my heart out, instead of sitting next to the
-girl that I love more than my life?" He unlocked the gate in the rear
-of his premises, and strolled along the narrow lane into which it
-opened. The houses in the lane were mere hovels, yet there was not one
-of them that was not brilliantly lighted, and the echoes of laughter
-and singing floating from their walls denoted that care had been sent
-to the right-about for that evening, at least. The sounds were so
-displeasing to him that he returned to his room and resting his face
-in his hands; raised up the picture of Ellen, fair and bright and
-beautiful. He was a calculating, unfeeling man; and if it had so
-happened that there had been no obstacle to the smooth course of his
-love, he might have remained so to the end of his days, and might
-never have suspected that there were points in his character which
-would not bear to close a scrutiny. But the means by which we are
-brought to a knowledge of ourselves are oftentimes very strange. The
-majority of us go down to our graves without suspecting that there are
-powerful forces hidden within us, which, had opportunity for display
-been allowed them, would have materially altered the tenor of our
-lives, whether for good or for evil. Solomon Fewster's love for Ellen
-was the most ennobling feeling he had ever experienced. His hatred for
-Joshua, and the thoughts and desires prompted by that hate were the
-most villainous. It is strange that the hate which disgraced him, not
-the love which ennobled him, should have made him conscious of his
-defects. It was that very hatred that brought to him the knowledge
-that he was not a good man; and that caused him to reflect that, if
-his love were returned, it would be the means of making him better.
-His thoughts were taking this direction now, and he was still sitting
-with his face resting in his hands, when he was startled by the sound
-of the gate being violently dashed aside. He remembered that he had
-forgotten to fasten it. Before he had time to rise, the latch of the
-door was lifted, and the Lascar glided in like a white spectre. With a
-strange feverishness of manner, the Lascar turned the key in the door,
-and at the same moment stooped and listened, holding up a warning
-finger as a caution for Solomon Fewster to be silent. He remained in
-that position for two or three minutes; then rose upright, and drew a
-long breath.
-
-"What now?" demanded Mr. Fewster angrily, and yet with a consciousness
-that the Lascar had sufficient cause for his abrupt entrance. "What
-thieves' trick have you been up to to-night, you dog! that you run in
-here as if the police were at your heels?"
-
-"They are not," said the Lascar, shaking the snow from his clothes,
-dog-like; "and that's a good thing, master, for you and for me."
-
-"For me, you dog! You dare to say that!"
-
-"I forgot to close the gate," said the Lascar, taking no notice of Mr.
-Fewster's exclamation. He went out, and having locked the gate,
-re-entered; and, seeing a bottle on the table, said, "What's this?
-Rum?" He did not wait to be invited, but helped himself freely, and
-spread his cold hands before the fire. "I am numbed to the bone. It's
-precious cold being out in the snow all day. I didn't hope to find you
-at home, master. I thought you would be enjoying yourself like a
-gentleman. I ran in here, finding the gate open, not knowing where to
-run. It is snowing fast--that's one comfort--and my footsteps will
-soon be filled up."
-
-All the while he spoke he was busily occupied warming his fingers and
-blowing on his knuckles.
-
-"Now, explain the meaning of all this," said Mr. Fewster.
-
-"Give me something to eat first, master. I haven't tasted food since
-the morning."
-
-Mr. Fewster pointed to the cupboard; and the Lascar took bread and
-meat, and ate swiftly and ravenously.
-
-"My service to you, master," he said, glass in hand, "and a merry
-Christmas."
-
-When he had emptied the glass, he threw a knife on the table. It was a
-clasp-knife, and the blade was open. There was a triumphant
-demonstrativeness in the action that instantly attracted Mr. Fewster's
-attention. He saw blood upon the blade--blood scarcely dried. Whose
-blood was it? A mist floated before his eyes. It was there but a
-moment; but in that moment a picture presented itself to him in the
-midst of a lurid cloud--a picture of a handsome sailor, smitten by an
-assassin's hand, falling to the ground. Then the figures were lost in
-a glare of bright blood and bright snow; and they, in their turn, were
-lost in black shade. Although the vision lasted but a moment, it
-produced the curious effect upon him of having been enveloped in
-darkness for a long time; and the sudden awakening to consciousness
-caused him to shade his eyes with his hand, as if the light in the
-room were too strong for him. Awake again, the Lascar's familiar
-action and bearing smote him with a sense of danger. The instinct of
-self-preservation whispered to him that his good name might be
-imperilled by further association with the man. It was clear that the
-Lascar had done a desperate deed--a deed which, although he shuddered
-to think of it, had perhaps removed his enemy from the scene. But if
-so, it was murder. The merest whisper, the faintest breath of
-suspicion, would be his ruin, not only with the world, but with Ellen.
-He would pay for services--yes; but he would take no risk. It behoved
-him to be wary.
-
-"They've had a merry party down yonder," said the Lascar, with a
-motion of his head in the direction of Mr. Marvel's house. "I made
-certain you were there, master. I've been hanging about the street all
-night in the cold. I've been on the watch; shall I tell you for whom?"
-
-"No; I want to know nothing," replied Mr. Fewster, measuring his words
-carefully. "Understand me once and for all. Whatever you do you do on
-your own responsibility; and I will in no way be associated with it or
-with you. If you presume to associate me with any acts of violence on
-your part, I wash my hands of you. Nay, more: I will set those upon
-you who will not let you escape easily."
-
-"I understand you, master," said the Lascar, without the least show of
-resentment. "But go on; you have more to say. I'll wait till you've
-done."
-
-"You dog, you! You break into my house as if you had a right here! You
-tell me, as if I were interested in knowing, that the police are at
-your heels, and that you are afraid of your very footsteps being
-tracked! You have the presumption to say that it is a good job for me
-that it is not so! You throw down this knife before me with blood upon
-it! What is it to me whose blood it is, or what crime you have
-committed? What if it were to be discovered that you had rendered
-yourself liable to the law, and then had been seen to come here? If I
-did my duty, I should go for a policeman, and hand you into his
-charge, and so be rid of you."
-
-The Lascar listened without the slightest sign of discomposure. He
-even nodded approvingly as he said,--
-
-"There's only you and me, master. You wouldn't speak so if anybody
-else was by. Don't fear; I know what you mean well enough. There's no
-chance of our misunderstanding each other, though you're a better
-actor than I am, and that's a fact. Rest you easy. No one saw me come
-here; and no one shall see me go out. As for the police, I know as
-well as you that it would suit your game as little to set them on me
-as it would suit my game for them to be set on. But you're right in
-threatening me with them. It belongs to your part; for you are master.
-And it belongs to my part to take what you say kindly; for I am a dog.
-I am satisfied so long as I get enough to keep me; and I'm not greedy,
-as you know."
-
-Solomon Fewster was extremely disconcerted by the Lascar's coolness.
-It proved to him that he was in the Lascar's power, and that the
-Lascar knew it. He was disconcerted also by the conviction that forced
-itself upon him, that the Lascar measured his indignation at its
-proper worth. But he could not belie his nature. It was impossible for
-him to be straightforward; even in his villainy he was compelled to be
-cunning. He would take care that he committed himself as little as
-possible by word of mouth. He was burning to hear what the Lascar had
-to tell, but he would not ask. He drew his breath hard, and it was
-with difficulty that he restrained his impatience during the long
-pause that followed; for the Lascar was as determined as he not to be
-the first to break the silence. At length, feeling that he was being
-mastered, he turned wrathfully upon the Lascar, and questioned,
-"Well?"
-
-"Well!" was the quiet answer.
-
-"If you have nothing more to say, you can go."
-
-"I have something more to say, but I am waiting for permission to
-speak."
-
-There was an assumption of insolent humility in the Lascar's tone; and
-Mr. Fewster bit his lip as he said, "Your tongue's your own; I can't
-stop you."
-
-"Thank you, master;" with a cringing expression of satisfaction for
-the concession. "Since I was employed in my present service--I mean,
-since a certain night when a kind-hearted gentleman gave me a flower,
-the leaves of which I have kept carefully in paper, so that I
-shouldn't forget what I had to do--I have been more watchful than ever
-in the task I had set myself to perform. I have been better able to do
-that than I used to be, because the same kind-hearted gentleman has
-generously supplied me with money, so that I have had all my time at
-my own disposal. He also supplied me with information. The task I had
-to perform was to revenge myself upon Joshua Marvel for stepping
-between me and my affairs, and for doing me injury. A little while ago
-the gentleman told me that Joshua Marvel was expected home soon; and
-then I determined that not a night should pass and find me lagging.
-Not only my hate, but my faithful duty to my master, made me
-determined in this. I set myself to watch for the return of the sailor
-Joshua; and during my watch I discovered a curious thing. I discovered
-that the gentleman in whose service I am appeared very often in the
-street I was watching, and that he was in the habit of lingering
-there late at night. He never did any thing else but look up at the
-bedroom-window of a certain pretty girl, whose shadow I have often
-seen on the blind; and he never went away until the light in her room
-was extinguished. I was careful that he should not see me, for it was
-no business of mine; and I know when I ought to keep in the
-background. Besides, I admired him for it; for I knew that he loved
-this girl, and that Joshua Marvel stood in his way. Regularly every
-day I went to the docks to see if the Merry Andrew--Joshua Marvel's
-ship--had arrived; and as good luck would have it, the ship came in
-this very morning. When I learned that, I went back to my watch in the
-street the gentleman is so mightily fond of. I knew that Joshua Marvel
-wouldn't be able to get away from his ship directly it got into port;
-and I guessed that it was more likely than not that he wouldn't let
-his people at home know of his unexpected arrival. No; he would
-surprise them. It would be so pleasant on Christmas-eve to break in
-upon them suddenly, and be petted and kissed, especially by one"--
-
-"The devil take you!" cried Solomon Fewster fiercely, grasping the
-table with such force that it trembled with the trembling of his hand.
-"Tell your story without preaching, can't you?"
-
-"I'll try, master. I hung about the street the whole day, eating
-nothing, and drinking very little. I might have been frozen, if my
-purpose hadn't kept me warm. I didn't grumble because I had to wait. I
-wanted him to come at night, and he came when I wanted. It isn't much
-more than an hour ago"--here he dropped his voice to a whisper--"that
-I saw a sailor turn the corner of the street where pretty Ellen Taylor
-lives. He had an accordion under his arm, and a cage in his hand
-covered with a blue pocket-handkerchief; and he stopped two or three
-times to look at the houses, and nodded to them as if he was wishing
-them a merry Christmas. I followed him, like a cat, and opened my
-knife. He was singing--I couldn't catch the words--and to judge from
-that and from the way he walked, I should say he was as happy a man as
-any in London. He never once looked behind him; if he had, I would
-have struck him down. He stopped before the house where his father and
-mother lived, and stooped to the keyhole and listened. I was close
-upon him--waiting! If he hadn't been so much occupied, he might have
-smelt me at his back. But it wouldn't have saved him if he had seen
-me; he would only have been struck down the sooner. While he was
-listening at the keyhole, he laughed quietly, enjoying the surprise he
-was going to give his people. When he had his laugh out, he knocked at
-the door. Presently I heard a woman's voice inside the house ask,
-'Who's there?' 'It's Josh,' said my man. I heard a cry of pleasure;
-and as the door was being unfastened, I raised my knife, and stabbed
-him in the back."
-
-"And killed him?" cried Solomon Fewster involuntarily.
-
-"I don't know. He fell; and as I ran off, I caught a glimpse of a
-woman kneeling by him in the snow, and raising his head to her bosom."
-
-Solomon Fewster groaned. Without another word he opened the door by
-which the Lascar had entered, and walked into the open air. The
-snow-fall had ceased, and the stars were shining. The moon, too, had
-risen, and clouds of light and deep shade were gliding swiftly across
-it, while everchanging shadows were playing on the snow. In the
-distance he heard the waits; they were a long way off, and the strains
-of music fell upon his ears chastened and mellowed. He was in danger;
-he had allied himself with this man, who made so light of the shedding
-of blood; and he had been made a confederate in perhaps a murder. Not
-that he had any compunction; not that he had any pity. Nothing would
-have rejoiced him more than to have heard that Joshua had been killed
-in a mutiny, had been wrecked, or had lost his life on sea or on land
-by any means, so that he was not implicated in it. The feelings that
-disturbed him now were purely selfish; he had to save himself from
-suspicion, supposing any discovery were made. Perhaps it would be
-best, after all, to speak plainly to the Lascar. There were no
-witnesses, and it did not matter much what he said. If Joshua were
-dead, the Lascar must be got rid of at any sacrifice of money. Thus
-resolving, he returned to the room. The Lascar was sitting patiently
-before the fire, and did not even raise his eyes as Mr. Fewster
-entered. "He did not know what I went out for," thought Mr. Fewster.
-"I might have gone for a policeman, and if I had brought one in, he
-would have declared I was his accomplice."
-
-"Has it left off snowing, master?" asked the Lascar.
-
-"Yes."
-
-"Then it wouldn't be quite safe for me to go away to-night--safe for
-you, I mean."
-
-"You can stop here to-night."
-
-"Thank you, master. Have I done well?"
-
-"It doesn't matter whether I say you have done well or ill; so, to
-save argument, suppose I say you have done well. Now, attend. If what
-you have done to-night should turn out to be"--
-
-"Say murder, master," said the Lascar, seeing that Mr. Fewster
-hesitated to speak plainly. "I don't mind."
-
-"If it should turn out to be that, have you considered that you are in
-danger?"
-
-"I haven't thought of it, master, and that's a fact. But if I am in
-danger, so are you."
-
-"That may or may not be. The only danger I am in is from what you
-might say; and, supposing I had spoken to you only once in my life,
-you would be free to say any thing of me, or of any one else, for that
-matter. What you might say wouldn't be evidence, you know."
-
-"True, master: but, at all events, I could ruin your chances with
-pretty Ellen Taylor."
-
-"What satisfaction would that be to you?"
-
-"Every satisfaction," said the Lascar with a kindling eye. "If any one
-hurts me, I hurt him."
-
-"As you have hurt Joshua Marvel, because he hurt you."
-
-"And because I am in your service," said the Lascar doggedly. "Don't
-forget that, please; I don't intend to forget it. If this is to be a
-fair argument, let it be fair. If it is to be acting, let it be
-acting. What I have done to-night is half for me and half for you:
-equal shares."
-
-"I told you once that I would have no partnerships," said Mr. Fewster
-in a steady voice, "and I will have none; but I don't mind coming to a
-distinct understanding. If what you have done to-night should turn out
-at its worst"--
-
-"Or its best," interrupted the Lascar sneeringly.
-
-"It will not be safe for you to remain in the country. To please you,
-I will say it will not be safe for you or for me."
-
-"Ah!" exclaimed the Lascar thoughtfully. "I think I understand you.
-Well, in that case there are plenty of countries I shouldn't mind
-going to; or I might go aboard ship again. How much will you give me?"
-
-"A hundred pounds."
-
-"Agreed, master,--if it should turn out at its worst, as you say. But
-if it does not, I stay, mind you."
-
-"That is your affair."
-
-"As much yours as mine, master," said the Lascar with determination.
-
-"What makes you harp upon that, you dog?" exclaimed Mr. Fewster,
-firing up.
-
-"Necessity," replied the Lascar coolly. He liked the life of indolence
-he had been leading, and he did not intend to relinquish his hold of
-Solomon Fewster. "I have no money, and no means of living. You have
-acted fairly to me up to now, and you must continue to do so. You can
-afford it, that's certain. I know what it is you fear. You fear that
-it should be known that I am in your service. Well, no one shall know
-it from me; and I will never come here again. You know where I stay.
-What you have to give me, leave there for me; and when you want me,
-send for me. I am your dog, ready to do your bidding. I can't speak
-fairer. There's no occasion for any more palaver. I'm tired and
-sleepy; I can sleep here, before the fire." He stretched himself on
-the ground by the side of the fire. "Silence gives consent, they say.
-If you don't speak, I shall understand that the affair is settled. You
-wanted a distinct understanding, you know."
-
-He closed his eyes, and listened for the answer. The answer came--in
-silence; for Solomon Fewster spoke not another word that night. The
-Lascar, made drowsy by the glare from the fire, courted sleep; and it
-came to him, as it comes to better men. And Solomon Fewster sat,
-looking down upon the form of the man who could blast his good name by
-a word, and thought--What? Once during the night the Lascar awoke with
-a shiver. The fire had gone out; but Solomon Fewster was still sitting
-at the table with a haggard look upon his face, as if he had suddenly
-grown old.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XVIII.
-THE RIVALRY OF LOVE.
-
-
-A silence almost like the silence of the grave reigned in the house of
-the Marvels. If, by some chance, a blind man had found his way there,
-he might reasonably have wondered whether it was tenanted by ghosts or
-human beings. The persons in the house walked about it with such a
-ghostly motion that scarcely a footfall could be heard. The doors were
-opened and shut as tenderly as if wounds were being handled, and as if
-rough treatment would cause them to cry out with pain. The very voices
-were hushed and low, and what was said was said in whispers. The blow
-by which Joshua had been struck down was a severe one, and wounded
-many besides himself. Notwithstanding Minnie's efforts, Joshua had
-lost a great deal of blood, and was laid on a sick-bed for many weeks.
-For a long time the doctor feared for his life; but good nursing and a
-strong constitution were in his favor.
-
-"But mind you, Mrs. Marvel," the doctor had said, half-a-dozen times,
-"nothing _would_ have saved him--not even his constitution, and
-it's a good one; not even the nursing he has had, and no man ever had
-better--nothing _would_ have saved him if Miss Kindred had not behaved
-like a heroine. You may thank that young lady for saving your son's
-life. If she hadn't stopped the flow of blood with her lips, all the
-doctors in London couldn't have kept him in the world for twenty-four
-hours."
-
-When Minnie was told of this, she went to her room and locked herself
-in.
-
-"I have saved him!" she said to herself, weeping tears of delicious
-joy. "I have saved his life! Oh, what happiness! I could die now, I am
-so happy!"
-
-It might have been better for her if she had died then with those
-words upon her lips.
-
-During the time that Joshua was in the greatest danger, Mrs. Marvel
-would allow no one but herself to sit up with him at night. She had a
-bed made up on the floor, and rested there, taking, indeed, but little
-sleep, until Joshua was out of danger. Minnie, especially, had pleaded
-hard to be allowed to sit up with her; but Mrs. Marvel was firm.
-Although she would not have confessed it even to herself, she was
-jealous of the girl's solicitude; and once expressed herself angrily
-because Minnie had offered to give Joshua his medicine. Afterwards,
-seeing Minnie in tears, Mrs. Marvel kissed her and begged her pardon
-in a gentle, motherly way, which made Minnie cry the more. Mrs. Marvel
-found Minnie more difficult to manage than Ellen. Ellen was
-wonderfully undemonstrative and wonderfully obedient. And besides,
-Ellen was never in the way when she was not wanted, and was always at
-hand the instant she was required. There was an instinctive sympathy
-between Mrs. Marvel and Ellen which did not exist between Mrs. Marvel
-and Minnie. The good mother loved both the girls, but she loved Ellen
-like a daughter. In the second week of Joshua's illness a circumstance
-occurred which, for a short time, occasioned Mrs. Marvel much anxious
-thought. Joshua being more feverish than usual--for three weeks he was
-delirious, and did not know where he was, or who were tending him--the
-girls hovered about the room (in their anxiety to be of some
-assistance) rather later than Mrs. Marvel generally allowed them.
-
-"Go to bed, girls," said Mrs. Marvel.
-
-Ellen rose obediently, and kissing Mrs. Marvel, and asking to be
-called if Mrs. Marvel wanted assistance in the night, went softly out
-of the room. But Minnie lingered behind, and with a yearning, wistful
-look at Mrs. Marvel, begged, in the softest of whispers, to be allowed
-to sit up with her.
-
-"No, child," said Mrs. Marvel, "I can't think of it. You would be of
-no use to me to-morrow if you were to sit up to-night."
-
-"Oh, yes, I should!" said Minnie, still pleading; "you don't know what
-a strong girl I am. Do let me stop with you! Do let me think that I
-can do something to help you!"
-
-"You can do a great deal if you obey me, Minnie; and you do assist me
-very much, my dear; but I will not let you sit up to-night. Hush!" For
-here Joshua said something aloud, and murmured feverishly in his
-sleep. When he was quiet, Mrs. Marvel said, "Don't distress me, dear
-Minnie; go to bed, like a good girl."
-
-Minnie, with deep sighs, went to the bedside to look at Joshua and to
-bid him a silent goodnight--Mrs. Marvel regarding her jealously the
-while--and then crept out of the room in tears. The girls being gone,
-Mrs. Marvel felt more contented. She sat down by her son's bedside,
-and, with that lightness of touch which nothing but a mother's pure
-love or that of a wife can impart, smoothed the bed-coverings, and
-brushed the hair from Joshua's eyes. At about eleven o'clock the
-handle of the door was gently turned, and Mr. Marvel entered. He had
-no boots on, and she had not heard him come up from the kitchen.
-Clasping his wife's hand, he leaned over the bed to catch a glimpse of
-Joshua's face.
-
-"He is better to-night, George," she said; "he is getting along
-nicely. The doctor said to-day that he will soon be sensible."
-
-George Marvel nodded, and put his lips to his wife's cheek.
-
-"You must be very tired, Maggie."
-
-She replied by a bright smile.
-
-"Shall I sit up for an hour while you lie down?"
-
-"Yes, father," knowing it would please him. "Have you had supper?"
-
-A nod.
-
-"And your beer?"
-
-Another nod.
-
-"And your pipe?"
-
-"Yes; Ellen got every thing ready nicely. She is like you were when
-you were a girl, Maggie."
-
-"Better than me, father."
-
-"That's not possible, wife." Ah! how her heart fluttered as he said
-the word! She trembled in his arms like a girl. "Now lie down; I'll
-wake you in an hour."
-
-She had but to close her eyes--being satisfied that her darling son
-was in good hands--and she was asleep. George Marvel watched for an
-hour, and perhaps a little longer, and then touched his wife, who was
-instantly awake. Alone again, Mrs. Marvel resumed her loving vigil.
-Not a sound was to be heard except the occasional prattle of Joshua,
-now of Dan and the birds, now of "father" and "mother," now of Ellen,
-now of Minnie and her shell. Mrs. Marvel had already learned, through
-those unconscious confessions, that her son's heart was as tender and
-as good as it had been before he had started in life for himself. A
-few minutes after the church-clock had struck two, Mrs. Marvel fancied
-she heard a soft breathing, outside the bedroom-door. She listened
-intently, thinking she must have been deceived; but no--the soft
-breathing, as of some one asleep, came distinctly to her ears. She
-went to the door and opened it, and, lying at the foot of the stairs
-in the narrow passage, she discovered Minnie, in her night-dress, fast
-asleep. The girl had evidently kept awake until Ellen and Sarah were
-asleep, and had then stolen down stairs, and had sat outside the door
-of the sick-room until she had been overpowered by fatigue. Mrs.
-Marvel stooped over the sleeping girl and whispered,--
-
-"Minnie!"
-
-The sound of her name, chiming in with some dreaming fancy, brought a
-happy smile to the girl's lips, and she answered,--
-
-"Yes, Joshua!"
-
-A look of pain passed into Mrs. Marvel's face; she knelt by Minnie's
-side, and gently raising the girl's head, she whispered again,--
-
-"Minnie! You'll catch your death of cold lying here."
-
-Minnie, still sleeping, encircled Mrs. Marvel's neck with her arms,
-and murmured, as she nestled close to the anxious mother's breast,--
-
-"Joshua! Love me! Love me, Joshua!"
-
-Mrs. Marvel trembled as she looked upon the girl's fair face, made
-fairer by the happy smile playing about the lips, and she felt a
-sudden chill at her heart.
-
-"Oh, my poor Minnie!" she said beneath her breath. "Oh, my poor, poor
-Minnie!"
-
-Then by a strong effort, she raised the girl, and so awoke her.
-
-Before Minnie had time to recover full consciousness, her name,
-uttered by Joshua in his fevered sleep, fell upon her ears. With a
-glad cry she sprang from Mrs. Marvel's arms into the sick-room; but
-Mrs. Marvel stepped swiftly before her, and taking her two hands
-prisoner, said, in a voice which, although very low, was stern and
-decided, "I am seriously angry with you, Minnie."
-
-The sudden movements, the light in the room, and, above all, Mrs.
-Marvel's stern voice, restored Minnie to her senses. She dropped her
-head, and a hot blush of shame stole over her neck and face, while the
-hands which Mrs. Marvel held turned cold as ice. All Mrs. Marvel's
-sternness was gone, and pity only remained.
-
-"Forgive me," Minnie pleaded.
-
-"I do, child," said Mrs. Marvel, more agitated than Minnie was. "I was
-obliged to speak sternly, or I should not have been able to wake you.
-Go to bed now, and be more obedient for the future."
-
-Minnie walked humbly into the passage, whither Mrs. Marvel followed
-her.
-
-"Ah, not like that!" sighed Minnie, as Mrs. Marvel turned to enter the
-room. "Not like that! Kiss me, and say again that you forgive me."
-
-And Mrs. Marvel, distressed and pitiful, kissed Minnie, who clung to
-her for a few moments, sobbing quietly, and then crept to bed.
-
-
-But who had struck the blow? Who was it that, waiting with malicious
-cunning until Joshua's foot was on the threshold of the home where so
-many loving hearts were eager to welcome him, had foully struck him
-down? Susan was the only one who had any suspicion; but she did not
-mention it, for she had not seen the Lascar for many months. When
-Minnie was questioned, she declared that she saw no one in the street.
-A neighbor asked why one of the men in the house did not look for
-footsteps in the snow and follow up the track. They could not tell why
-they had not done so; it would have been the right thing to do,
-undoubtedly, but it had not occurred to them. When Joshua was
-sufficiently recovered, he could not assist them. He was examined and
-cross-examined closely. Did he suspect any of the sailors? No; he was
-good friends with every person on board; was even a favorite with the
-captain and officers. Ah! perhaps it sprang from that, they said; one
-of his mates might have been jealous of him. No; he was certain not
-one of them was. His own opinion was that he had been stabbed by a
-thief who wanted to rob him. But there! what was the use of bothering
-about it? Here he was, getting well and strong again, when it might
-have been so much worse. Thank God, in a few weeks he would be as well
-as ever! The day that Joshua was out of danger, the doctor told him
-that his life had been saved by Minnie.
-
-"In what way, sir?" asked Joshua.
-
-"Don't you remember that, when you were struck"--commenced the doctor.
-But Joshua interrupted him by saying that he remembered nothing from
-that moment.
-
-"I was walking along, too much occupied with the happiness of coming
-home to think of any thing else. I remember looking at the houses in
-the street, and stopping before our house. I heard voices inside, or I
-thought I did. Indeed, it might have been fancy. I stooped to listen,
-and then knocked. Some one asked--ah, now I remember! It was Minnie's
-voice asking who was there. Just as I answered, a dizziness came over
-me; I did not even know that I was struck."
-
-"As you answered," said the doctor, taking up the narrative where
-Joshua dropped it, "Minnie opened the door. She saw you falling, and
-saw blood flowing from your neck. She threw herself by your side, and
-put her lips to the wound, and pressed so as to cause the blood to
-flow less freely. I honestly believe that if she had not done that,
-your life would not have been saved."
-
-Joshua did not pursue the conversation, and the doctor did not recur
-to the subject again. The following afternoon Joshua said to his
-mother,--
-
-"Mother, I want to speak to Minnie."
-
-Mrs. Marvel, a little uneasily, went for Minnie, who came and sat by
-Joshua's bed.
-
-"Are you better, Joshua?" asked the girl.
-
-"Yes, dear Minnie," answered Joshua.
-
-They spoke in whispers. Joshua put out his big hand, and Minnie
-clasped it.
-
-"Your hand is quite cold, Minnie." Minnie, indeed, was very agitated.
-"I owe you my life, dear Minnie, and I want to thank you for it. It
-almost seems to me, after what I have been told, as if my life
-belonged to you. Thank you, dear little Minnie--you used to like me to
-call you that!--thank you a thousand thousand times. I shall never be
-able to repay you!"
-
-"I don't want payment, Joshua," said Minnie, when the wild beating of
-her heart was subdued. "It brought its own payment with it. It is, and
-ever will be, my sweetest remembrance. O Joshua! as the greatest
-unhappiness that ever could occur to me would be"--(to lose you, she
-was about to say, but she checked the words in time)--"to know that
-you would not recover, so the greatest happiness that I have ever
-experienced is to think that I have done you some little service."
-
-"Little service! The greatest service, the most devoted action that
-woman could do to man! Perhaps--who knows?--one day I may be able to
-repay you in my own way." As if those words were not sufficient for
-her, who would have given her life for his. "Stoop down Minnie!" She
-inclined her head to the pillow. "Little Minnie, little Minnie!" he
-whispered tenderly, and he placed his lips to her cheek. "Thank you
-for your devotion."
-
-It was fortunate for Minnie that it was dusk, and that her back was
-towards Mrs. Marvel, or the good mother would have had further cause
-for anxiety and uneasiness in Minnie's trembling form and flushed
-face. As it was, there was a long silence in the room; and Mrs.
-Marvel, approaching softly to the bed to see if Joshua was asleep,
-broke the happy reverie into which Minnie had fallen.
-
-Solomon Fewster came to the house every day to inquire after Joshua,
-and went away every day with content in his face and despair in his
-heart. If ever a man played a double part, he played it during that
-time. "If he would but die!" he thought many and many a time. "If
-mortification would set in, or erysipelas, or something that would
-kill him!" And "I am truly happy to hear it," he said, many and many a
-time, to Mrs. Marvel, as in answer to his inquiries she told him that
-Joshua was improving rapidly. "I have brought a little jelly for him,"
-which Mrs. Marvel received thankfully. At other times he would bring a
-chicken or some other delicacy to tempt Joshua's appetite, and would
-walk from the house with earnest wishes that what he left would choke
-the invalid. "I shall never forget Mr. Fewster's kindness," said Mrs.
-Marvel. "I feel quite angry with myself; for I did not give him credit
-for so much good feeling. But it is just in such times as these that a
-man shows the real goodness of his heart." And Mr. Fewster met with
-his reward immediately; for they were all grateful to him for his
-attention to Joshua. Mr. Marvel always had a hearty word for him,
-Minnie always a bright look, Ellen always a kind welcome now. But it
-was both sweet and bitter to him. "Ellen looks kindly upon me," he
-thought, and thought truly, "because I profess myself kind to Joshua.
-Will it ever be otherwise? Yes; if money can make it so, it shall be.
-And money can do much."
-
-Yes, money can do much; but it cannot buy love, although it is often
-paid for it.
-
-The most delicious three months of Joshua's life dated from the day on
-which the doctor declared him to be out of danger. He lived in an
-atmosphere of love. Loving hearts, loving hands, loving looks, loving
-thoughts, surrounded him. Is it better to have those than to be great
-and rich and powerful? Too modest for ambition are such blessings. Yet
-are they the sweetest, the holiest attributes of life. Of life, which
-is nothing without pleasures which cost money. Of life, which is not
-worth the living without fine linen and rich food. Of life, which is
-useless without the restless striving, the absorbing ambition, which
-make up the sum of human progress. Of Life, the Paradox!
-
-Something which has fallen out of its proper place may be motioned
-here. When Joshua was carried into the house on that memorable
-Christmas night, two things that had fallen from his hands were picked
-up from the snow and carried in after him. On of these was his
-accordion, the other was a white cockatoo in a cage, which Joshua had
-brought home from the South Seas. Whether it was that the cockatoo was
-overwhelmed at finding itself in a strange land, or that it deemed it
-necessary to be silent in the distressing circumstances of the case,
-it certainly behaved itself in a most exemplary manner, and gave no
-indication that it possessed a tongue. The cockatoo was taken to Dan's
-house, which was but a very few doors from Joshua's, and two or three
-days afterwards Dan was startled by hearing his name called in a
-strange loud voice. He looked up at Ellen, and asked if she had
-spoken. She had just time to say "No" when _her_ name was called in
-the same strange loud voice.
-
-"Why, it's the cockatoo!" exclaimed Dan.
-
-Sure enough, it was the cockatoo, which, now that its tongue was
-loosened, made as much use of it as a woman could have done. Its stock
-of language was not large, consisting only of a shrill "Dan!" a shrill
-"Dan and Jo!" a shrill "Ellen!" a shrill "Minnie!" and a softer
-articulation of "Bread-and-cheese and kisses! and kisses! and kisses!"
-winding up with a volley of kisses, which it continued until it was
-completely out of breath. No stronger proof of Joshua's attachment
-could have been received by Dan and Ellen. Dan was much affected by
-it.
-
-"You see how he was thinking of us all the time he was away," he said
-to Ellen, with tears in his eyes. "What shall I do if he dies!"
-
-But Joshua did not die, and it was not very long afterwards that Dan
-was sitting in his friend's bedroom, surrounded by his birds as usual.
-It was like the old time come over again. Here they were, man and man,
-talking often as if they were boys. So much had to be told! The loss
-of Dan's parents, Dan entering into business, and how they all came to
-be living together. "Wonderful, wonderful!" said Joshua, again and
-again. "Like a story in a book."
-
-"Just what I said," said Dan; "like a romance."
-
-Who should come to the house one day but the captain of Joshua's ship.
-the "Merry Andrew"? The part he plays in this story is a small one,
-but eventful enough in all conscience. He was a shrewd man of business
-and a good officer. It was to his interest to have good men about him;
-for he was the principal owner of the ship, and he was remarkably
-sensible in any matter affecting his interests. He had heard of what
-had occurred to Joshua, and he was very sorry for it, because he had
-been so satisfied with Joshua's conduct on board his ship, that he had
-determined to make the young sailor his third mate on the next voyage.
-Therein he showed his eccentricity; most other captains would have
-chosen a man who had already filled that position satisfactorily. But
-Captain Liddle liked to judge for himself, and Joshua had found favor
-in his eyes. The young sailor was steady and attentive, and had made
-some progress in the study of navigation. There was one especial
-reason why Captain Liddle wanted steady men with him on his next
-voyage. He was about to get married, and he was going to take his
-young wife with him. There was great excitement in the house when
-Captain Liddle announced himself. Joshua, who was in bed, wanted to
-rise, but Captain Liddle would not allow him.
-
-"Lie easy, lie easy, Marvel," he said: "you'll get better all the
-sooner."
-
-"I hoped to come with you, sir, on your next voyage," said Joshua.
-
-"Well, I had some thought of that myself," said Captain Liddle.
-
-"Do you go out soon, sir?"
-
-"Not for three months, Marvel; perhaps not for four. The ship's
-undergoing a thorough overhauling. She'll have a precious freight in
-her next trip."
-
-"What loading, sir?"
-
-Captain Liddle's eyes twinkled. "Female. Lie easy, lie easy, Marvel;"
-for Joshua had given another start. "Mrs. Captain Liddle. I shall be
-married soon, and my wife goes out with me."
-
-Joshua murmured respectful congratulations.
-
-"Thank you, thank you, Marvel. Now, I'll tell you what I have come
-especially for. First, though, how long before you are well?"
-
-"I am well now, sir."
-
-"Strong, I mean; able to get about and do your work like a man."
-
-"Not for two months, I am afraid, sir."
-
-"That will do. Now, then. You get strong in two months, and you shall
-go out with me in my next trip as third mate of the 'Merry Andrew.'
-Lie easy, lie easy, Marvel. What do you say to it, eh?"
-
-"Say to it, sir! O"--
-
-"Lie easy, lie easy, my lad. When you get strong come to the ship, and
-write a few lines soon telling me how strong you are getting. Mrs.
-Marvel, your son is a good sailor, and will make a good officer. And
-this is Dan, that you told me of once? A good head; but not so strong
-in the legs as Marvel, eh?"
-
-"No, sir," said Dan with a bright smile, for he was overjoyed at
-Joshua's good fortune; "but it wouldn't do for all of us to be strong
-sir; consider the doctors."
-
-"Why, here is a ship, ropes and sails and all! And birds!"
-
-Obedient to Dan's signal, the sailor-birds flew up the ropes, and
-stood on the slender cross-trees, as proud as if they had passed their
-lives in the service.
-
-"Good--good!" said Captain Liddle. "For sale, eh?"
-
-"No; they are not mine sir; they belong to an old sailor."
-
-"Very proper. Ah, young lady," to Minnie, who had been in the room,
-but in the background, during the captain's visit; "and what do you
-think of the sea?"
-
-"If I had been a man, sir," said Minnie modestly and quietly, "I
-should like to have been a sailor."
-
-"Very proper--very proper. Good-day, Marvel. Get strong as quickly as
-you can. You'll have to superintend cargo."
-
-Mr. Marvel, coming home at night, was told the good news before he had
-time to take the comforter from his neck. He ran up stairs at once to
-his son's room. "A sailor first, and then a captain," he exclaimed,
-recalling Joshua's words when he first announced his wish. "Do you
-remember, Josh?
-
-"Yes, father, yes," said Joshua eagerly.
-
-"It's better than being a wood-turner, Josh," said George Marvel
-triumphantly.
-
-"I should think so, indeed. You'll see!"
-
-"There, Maggie!" observed Mr. Marvel to his wife later on in the
-evening. "What did I tell you? And you was against it all the while,
-and wanted him to be a wood-turner. He'll be a captain before he's
-thirty."
-
-"He is spared, I hope, for great things." said Mrs. Marvel meekly;
-"and to be a blessing to us all."
-
-That same night, Dan and Joshua and Ellen spent some very happy hours
-together. Minnie was with Susan attending her father, so that the
-three were undisturbed. Mrs. Marvel opened the door once; but seeing
-the group, and observing how engrossed they were, she shut it softly,
-and went down again into the kitchen. Once, also, George Marvel was
-going out of the kitchen when his wife called to to him,--
-
-"Where are you going, father?"
-
-"To Joshua's room."
-
-"Don't go, George. Come and sit down; I want to speak to you."
-
-Mr. Marvel resumed his seat, and Mrs. Marvel refilled his pipe and
-handed it to him, with a light, "There! smoke your pipe and don't be
-so restless."
-
-He took a few whiffs, and asked who was with Joshua.
-
-"Ellen and Dan; and they are very happy and comfortable. I peeped in
-once, and I wouldn't disturb them."
-
-"Oh!" said Mr. Marvel reflectively dwelling lengthily upon that
-smallest of words.
-
-"I have reasons, George," said Mrs. Marvel quietly. "I never saw Ellen
-look so happy and pretty as she looks tonight."
-
-Mr. Marvel nodded two or three times with an expression of
-satisfaction. "Do you think, mother," he commenced; and then he
-paused, and repeated, "Do you think, mother, that"--and then he paused
-again, as if he had said enough to make his meaning clear.
-
-"Yes, I do, George," said Mrs. Marvel. "I had my doubts, but now I
-really think it will be so."
-
-"That will be a real good thing;" rubbing his hands. "Here's hoping
-so!" and he drank a full glass of beer to his mysterious toast.
-
-What was going on up stairs that the wood-turner and his wife were
-loath to interrupt? Merely a recalling of old reminiscences and a
-closer drawing together of three hearts, which might have been one,
-for the undivided affection for each other with which they were
-filled.
-
-"Thinking of then, when every thing before us was so uncertain, and of
-now, when every thing before us is so bright and clear," said Joshua,
-"makes me almost believe that our ways are shaped for us, and that, if
-we strive to do our duty, our reward is certain."
-
-"It is too deep a question for us, Jo," said Dan; "so many
-considerations spring out of it. As to whether every good man is
-happy. As to whether every man who strives to do right is spared pain
-and misery. At all events, it is certain that the very best thing to
-do is to do what is right, and to be straightforward and honest. It is
-not too often done, I am afraid. I haven't seen any thing of the
-world, but it strikes me that that is not the way of it."
-
-"If ever I am captain of a ship--and I may be, Dan--it looks
-promising"--
-
-"That it does, Jo."
-
-"You shall come with me a voyage. I will have every thing snug for
-you; hammock on deck the same as that day we spent with the Old
-Sailor--ah, what a day was that!"
-
-"I can recall every moment of it; from the night before, when Ellen
-stood at the window watching the rain, and my waking up in the morning
-waiting for you to come--oh, so anxiously! And the flowers, and the
-birds--the poor birds!--and the breakfast, and the ride! I tell you
-what, Jo, stories could be made out of these things. But the day
-wouldn't have been the day it was if Ellen had not been with us."
-
-Ellen smiled, and her eyes sparkled.
-
-"Every thing connected with it is so vivid to my mind just now," said
-Joshua, "that it only wants one thing to make it complete; and that is
-for Ellen to sing 'Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses,' as she sang it in the
-Old Sailor's cabin."
-
-Ellen, in a low voice, sang the song; and they were silent for a long
-while, musing happily. Then Joshua made a remark that his pillow was
-not nicely arranged, and Ellen smoothed it for him. Her arm
-necessarily was round his neck for a moment--only for a moment by her
-own will; for when she would have withdrawn it, Joshua held it there,
-and she, with impulse as pure as pure heart and mind could make it,
-allowed it to remain. What wonder that a silence of longer duration
-followed?
-
-Ah! if a magic spell had fallen upon them then, a spell that would
-have transfixed them and made their happiness eternal!
-
-Not one of them knew how long that blissful trance lasted. It was
-broken by the slightest sound--it might have been the opening of a
-door, or even the light tread of our old friend the tortoise-shell
-cat--but whatever the sound was, the trance was at an end, and they
-were all awake again. Ellen withdrew her arm, and, with downcast eyes,
-hurriedly left the room. Joshua turned to Dan, and holding out his
-hand, said, "Dan, take my hand, and say, Brother Jo."
-
-"I do. Brother Jo!"
-
-"That's good; isn't it, Dan?"
-
-"Yes, Jo."
-
-"Brothers more than in heart, Dan, as we have always been. But
-Brothers really and truly, if Ellen says yes."
-
-"Ellen loves you, Jo. You have but to ask." He paused for a little
-while before he spoke again. "There is something in my mind that it is
-right you should know. It is the only thing I have ever kept from you;
-but now, since you have told me about yourself and Ellen"--
-
-"Did you ever doubt it, Dan?"
-
-"I wasn't certain, Jo. You have removed a great weight from my heart.
-It seems strange that now, when I see the almost certain prospect of
-your future being as bright as we used to hope it would be--it seems
-strange that I cannot say I am happy. Yet one thing would make me so
-perfectly."
-
-"There is no cloud between you and me, Dan?"
-
-"None--nor ever will be, brother of my heart. But a great hope,
-shadowed by a great fear, has entered into my soul--a hope which
-fulfilled, would make earth heaven for me. Is it too precious a thing
-to pray for? It seems so to me. I tremble as I think of it. But if it
-is not to be, I hope I shall soon die."
-
-"Dan!" cried Joshua in alarm, for Dan's last words were like a cry of
-agony.
-
-"Haven't you seen it, Jo? Haven't you suspected it? I love her so
-that, if I knew she were lost to me, I scarcely think I could live. I
-love her so that, if she were lost to me, some stronger motive, some
-stronger feeling than any I can now think of; would have to animate me
-to make my future less black than the blackest night."
-
-"You mean Minnie, Dan?"
-
-"Yes; she is my light. Ah, Jo! How I love her! I have never spoken of
-it till now; I have never dared to breathe it. And now that I speak of
-it for the first time, it frightens me."
-
-"Nay, Dan, take courage. You are frightened by shadows."
-
-"If I could think so!" mused Dan in a less agitated voice. "What can
-I, a cripple, offer her? Love? Yes, I can offer her that, pure and
-undefiled. Nothing more--nothing more! Keep my secret, Jo."
-
-"Yes, Dan," said Joshua sadly.
-
-"If all should come right in the end, Jo! You and Ellen, and me and
-Minnie!"
-
-He trembled, and burying his face in his hands, thought of the happy
-night when the Old Sailor traced Joshua's course on the map, and when
-Minnie's arm was round his neck and her cheek had touched his. How
-many times had he thought of those few blissful moments, and what balm
-and comfort had the memory brought him!
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIX.
-SUNSHINE AND CLOUD.
-
-
-"George," said Mrs. Marvel to her husband one night, when they were
-alone in their room, "what has come over Mr. Kindred? He is quite
-changed."
-
-"I've noticed it too, mother," said Mr. Marvel, "but I haven't thought
-of it much, because, to tell you the truth, I don't believe he is
-quite right here"--touching his forehead.
-
-Mrs. Marvel had not mentioned to any one--not even to her husband--how
-Minnie had distressed her during Joshua's illness. The girl had not
-asked her to keep silence upon the subject; indeed, no word had passed
-between them about it; but Mrs. Marvel judged that it would be best
-for Minnie's sake, and for Joshua's also, to let the matter rest.
-Since the night when Mrs. Marvel had discovered Minnie lying asleep at
-Joshua's door, the girl had given her no further cause for
-displeasure. Mrs. Marvel's fears were dispelled; for Minnie showed
-nothing more than a friendly interest in Joshua's recovery. But if the
-good mother had been less openly observant of Minnie's every look and
-action, her fears would have grown stronger. For after the interview
-between Joshua and Minnie, when Joshua had thanked her and kissed her
-her, Mrs. Marvel set herself the task of closely observing Minnie's
-conduct towards Joshua. And Minnie discovered it, and so behaved
-herself that Mrs. Marvel was thrown completely off her guard. Minnie
-displayed a carelessness and an indifference concerning Joshua's
-health, at which Mrs. Marvel at any other time would have been hurt;
-but now she was silently grateful, in the belief that her fears were
-groundless.
-
-Joshua was better. With the exception of a scar upon his neck, where
-the Lascar had stabbed him, he was as well and strong as ever he had
-been. He had grown into a fine handsome man; and the affectionate
-disposition which had characterized him as a boy seemed to have become
-stronger with his strength. The affection that existed between him and
-Dan was unchanged and unchangeable. He took as much delight in the
-birds as ever he had done; and, notwithstanding that he and Dan were
-men now, with deepened passions and stronger aspirations, their hearts
-were as tender to each other as in the younger days of their
-friendship, when they mingled their tears together over the death of
-Golden Cloud.
-
-Every thing was bright before them. Dan had not spoken to Minnie of
-his love for her; but he was made happy by a gradual change in her
-behavior towards him. She grew more and more affectionate, spoke
-softly to him, looked kindly at him, and did not repulse the little
-tender advances he dared to make to her now and then.
-
-"When you are gone to sea, Jo," he said to Joshua in the course of a
-conversation in which, in the fulness of his joy at Minnie's kindness,
-he had unbosomed himself to his friend, "I shall speak to her, and
-tell her I love her." He spoke very slowly, and his eyes were toward
-the ground; it was so sacred a subject with him, that his voice
-trembled when he spoke of it. "Once on a time, before I knew her, Jo,
-you, and you alone, filled my heart; but I had no idea then of a man's
-passions and a man's fears. I think I should have disbelieved any
-person then who told me that you would have a rival in my heart. But
-you have, Jo; although you are not less loved for all that."
-
-"I understand you, Dan, and am content. I am proud of your love. If I
-were to lose it, the sweetness would go out of life."
-
-"So it would be with me, Jo; but you can never lose it--never, never.
-I think you and I know what love is. In the midst of all our trouble
-when you first went away--trouble that came upon us so suddenly that I
-began to be frightened of it--I found consolation in thinking of our
-love for each other. Misfortunes came. Never mind, I thought; Joshua
-loves me. Mother died, father died; we were left penniless; and I
-thought of you and was comforted. You had grown so in my heart--like
-the roots of a tree, Jo--that if I had ceased to love you, my heart
-would have ceased to beat. It is the same now; but Minnie is in my
-heart side by side with you. I shall tell her, you know, by and by. By
-and by," he repeated softly. "The thought of it is like heaven to me;
-for I have begun to hope."
-
-It was on that same afternoon that Ellen was sitting in her bedroom
-looking at her face in the looking-glass. She was fair; and she knew
-it, and was proud of it. But it was not vanity that caused her to sit,
-with her chin upon her hands, looking into the glass. Of a very modest
-type a womanhood was Ellen; not a heroine of the Joan-of-Arc order,
-who, with all her false glitter about her, would have been a woman
-after very few men's hearts. Ellen was of the quiet order of women, of
-whom there are thousands growing up in happy English homes, thank
-Heaven! and who are blessed and contented and happy, notwithstanding
-their sisters' unwomanly cries about woman's rights. May English women
-like Ellen, modest and constant and loving, increase and multiply with
-every succeeding year! Ellen was thinking of herself a little, as she
-looked into the glass, and of Joshua a great deal. He had not spoken
-to her yet; but he would soon, she knew. And as she sat and saw her
-pretty face looking at her, whose step but Joshua's should she hear
-coming, up the stairs? He went into the adjoining room--Dan's room;
-and she heard him moving about, and--yes; singing! Singing what? Why,
-"Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses." The heroine's name in the song is Kate;
-but Joshua sang,--
-
-
- "I said to Nell, my darling wife,
- In whom my whole life's bliss is,
- 'What have you got for dinner, Nell?'
- 'Why, bread-and-cheese and kisses!'"
-
-
-He said to _Nell_, his darling wife! The happy tears ran down Ellen's
-face; but they were soon dried; and Ellen kept very quiet, fearing
-that Joshua might hear her move. But Joshua went down stairs singing;
-and then Ellen smiled at herself in the glass, and peeped at herself
-through her fingers; and it wasn't an ugly picture to look at, if any
-one had been there to see.
-
-It was all settled without a word passing between them. I don't
-believe there ever was such another courtship. They were sitting in
-Mrs. Marvel's kitchen only four of them--father, mother, Ellen, and
-Joshua. It really looked like a conspiracy that no other person came
-into the kitchen that night; but there they were, conspiracy or no
-conspiracy. There was Mrs. Marvel, knitting a pair of stockings for
-Joshua; not getting along very fast with them, it must be confessed:
-for her spectacles required a great deal of rubbing. And there was Mr.
-Marvel, smoking his pipe, throwing many a furtive look in the
-direction of Joshua and Ellen, who were sitting next to each other,
-happy and silent. There is no record of how long they sat thus without
-speaking; but suddenly, although not abruptly, Joshua put his arm
-round Ellen's waist, and drew her closer to him. It was only a look
-that passed between them; and then Joshua kissed Ellen's lips, and she
-laid her head upon his breast.
-
-"Mother! father! look here!"
-
-Mrs. Marvel rose, all of a tremble, and laid her hand upon Ellen's
-head, and kissed the young lovers. But Mr. Marvel behaved quite
-differently. He cast one quick satisfied look at the two youngsters;
-and then turned from them, and continued smoking as if nothing unusual
-had occurred.
-
-"Well, father?" exclaimed Joshua, rather surprised at his father's
-silence.
-
-"Well, Josh!" replied Mr. Marvel.
-
-"Do you see this?" asked Joshua, with his arm round Ellen's waist.
-
-Ellen, blushing rosy red, looked shyly at Mr. Marvel; but he looked
-stolidly at her in return.
-
-"Yes; I see it, Josh," said Mr. Marvel, without any show of emotion.
-
-"And what do you say to it?"
-
-"What do I say to it, Josh?" replied Mr. Marvel with dignity. "Well, I
-believe I'm your father; and, as such, I think you should ask me if I
-was agreeable. I thought it proper to ask _my_ father, Josh. It isn't
-because I'm a wood-turner"--
-
-"No, no, father," interrupted Joshua; "I made a mistake. Ellen and I
-thought"--
-
-"Ellen and you thought," repeated Mr. Marvel.
-
-"That if you were agreeable"--continued Joshua.
-
-"That if I was agreeable," repeated Mr. Marvel.
-
-"And if you would please to give your consent"--said Joshua, purposely
-prolonging his preamble.
-
-"And if I would be pleased to give my consent," repeated Mr. Marvel
-with a slight chuckle of satisfaction.
-
-"That as we love each other very much, we would like to get married."
-
-"That's dutiful," said Mr. Marvel, laying down his pipe, oracularly.
-"I'm only agreeable, Josh, because I am old, and because I am married.
-As I said to mother the other night, when we was talking the matter
-over--ah! you may stare; but we knew all about it long ago. Didn't we,
-mother? Well, as I was saying to mother the other night, if I was a
-young man, and mother wasn't in the way, I'd marry her myself and you
-might go a-whistling. Shiver my timbers, my lass!" he cried, breaking
-through the trammels of wood-turning, and becoming suddenly nautical,
-"come and give me a kiss."
-
-Which Ellen did; and so the little comedy ended happily. Joshua,
-having a right now to sit with his arm round Ellen's waist, availed
-himself of it, you may be sure. If Ellen went out of the room, he had
-also a right to go and inquire where she was going; and this,
-curiously enough, happened four or five times during the night. If any
-thing could have added to the happiness of Mr. Marvel--except being
-any thing but a wood-turner, which, at his age, was out of the
-question--it was this proceeding of Joshua's. Every time Joshua
-followed Ellen out of the room; Mr. Marvel looked at his wife with
-pleasure beaming from his eyes.
-
-"It puts me in mind of the time when I came a-courting you, mother,"
-he said. "How the world spins round! It might have been last night
-when you and me were saying good-by at the street-door."
-
-
-Mrs. Marvel had not spoken to her husband without cause of the change
-that had taken place in Basil Kindred. A very remarkable change had
-indeed taken place in him. A mistrustful expression had settled itself
-upon his face, accompanied by a keen hungry watchfulness of all that
-occurred around him. He gave short answers, and was snappish and
-morose. Yet not a look, not a word, not a gesture escape his notice.
-He did not avoid his friends; he rather courted their society. He
-repelled their advances, but he sat among them, watching. Every sense
-was employed in that all-absorbing task. What was it that he was
-trying to discover?
-
-The change was so sudden. A few days ago he was as he had ever been
-hitherto, frank and cheerful,--even gay sometimes. Now, all that was
-gone. In place of frankness, mistrust; in place of cheerfulness,
-gloom. Susan was the only one, with the exception of his daughter, to
-whom he did not speak with a certain bitterness. His manner to all the
-others was as though some sensitive chord in his nature had been
-sorely wounded--as though all men were his foes--as though his faith
-in what was good and noble in human nature had been violently
-disturbed.
-
-See him now. He and Minnie have been sitting together for hours. He
-has been strangely stern and strangely tender to her in turns, but she
-is used to his wayward moods. He has detained her by his side all the
-morning, upon one and another idle pretext; and she, as if wishful to
-please him, has humored him, and been wonderfully submissive and
-obedient. But once she had fallen into a reverie--not a happy one--and
-he had broken it by asking her in a harsh voice what she was dreaming
-about. She replied only by a startled look, and resumed her work,
-which had been lying idly in her lap. Repentant of his harshness, he
-turned his head from her to hide the sudden spasm which passed into
-his face.
-
-"Are you ill?" she asked.
-
-"No, dear child."
-
-"In pain?"
-
-"No, dear child."
-
-Presently she put aside her work, and rose to leave the room.
-
-"Where are you going?" he asked in a strangely anxious voice.
-
-"To see Mrs. Marvel," was her answer.
-
-"Sit you down," he cried sternly.
-
-She hesitated and lingered by the door, beating the ground with her
-foot irresolutely. Seeing that, he grasped her wrist firmly, and hurt
-her without intending to do so. The muscles of her face quivered, but
-not from the pain.
-
-"O Minnie, my child!" he cried; then, releasing her, "have I hurt
-you?"
-
-"No," she answered in a hard voice. "Why do you not wish me to go to
-Mrs. Marvel's house? You have forbidden me before."
-
-"You trouble them too much."
-
-"That is not your reason, father," she said in the same hard voice.
-"You are hiding something from me."
-
-"Are you not hiding something from me, Minnie?" he asked, looking
-anxiously into her face.
-
-"What should I hide from you?" she asked, in reply, coldly and
-evasively. "I am not well, father. I can't stop in this room. I will
-not go where you do not wish me."
-
-He did not detain her, and she glided swiftly out of the room. He was
-about to follow her, when a dizziness came upon him, and he sank into
-a chair. It was only by a strong effort of will that he kept himself
-from fainting.
-
-"My strength is deserting me," he muttered, his breath coming thick
-and fast; "scarcely a day passes but this weakness comes upon me." He
-held up his hand; it trembled like a leaf. "Have I failed in my duty
-to her? Is it my fault that she does not confide in me? Or is this a
-wicked lie?" He took a letter from his pocket and read it, not once,
-but many times. "No," he groaned; "it is true. I feel that it is
-true." He rose to his feet and felt like one just risen from a sick
-bed. He was as weak as a child; so weak, indeed, that the
-consciousness of his weakness brought tears into his eyes; and he said
-in a voice of anguish, "Now, when my child's happiness--her honor,
-perhaps--depends upon my watchful care, I am helpless. If I had some
-one that I could trust some one to help me!" He heard a step upon the
-stairs. It was like an answer to his wish. "It is Susan," he muttered;
-"the one being that I know in the world who would serve me faithfully,
-Susan, Susan!"
-
-She heard him, although his voice was faint and low, and entered the
-room. Alarmed by the traces of illness in his face, she hastened to
-his side.
-
-"You are ill," she said, assisting him to a seat. "Can I do any thing
-for you?"
-
-"Yes," he answered. "You can do much. You can be my friend."
-
-"Your friend!" she exclaimed. Had she not always been his friend? But
-there was a deeper meaning in his voice than she had ever heard
-before, and his appeal sent thrills of pleasure to her heart.
-
-"I am ill," he continued; "but it is more from weakness than any thing
-else. I am not in pain. A dizziness seizes me, as it seized me just
-now, and I feel as if my senses were leaving me. I can scarcely stand;
-and I have no one to trust to."
-
-"Not Minnie?" she said softly and wonderingly.
-
-"Hush! Minnie, of all others, must not be told of this. Can I trust
-you?"
-
-"I would work till I dropped to serve you."
-
-A flush came into his face.
-
-"To serve me and Minnie?" he said.
-
-"Yes; to serve you and Minnie."
-
-"Give me your sacred promise that what passes between us now will
-never be divulged, will never be spoken of, by you, unless my tongue
-is sealed, and the time comes when it may be necessary to speak."
-
-"Does it concern you?" she asked with a natural hesitation; for there
-was a feverishness in his manner that alarmed her.
-
-"It concerns me and Minnie."
-
-"I promise."
-
-"Faithfully and sacredly?"
-
-"Faithfully and sacredly."
-
-He took her hand and pressed it, and then gave her the letter, and
-asked her to read it. It contained but a few words, but they were
-sufficient to cause a look of horror to start into her eyes.
-
-"Can it be true?" she asked, more of herself than of him and her
-trembling lips turned white and parched in an instant.
-
-"Susan," said Basil Kindred, "I have lived long enough in the world to
-know its falseness. In years gone by, men have smiled in my face and
-shaken me by the hand, and I have learned afterwards, that while their
-manner spoke me fair, there was treachery in their hearts. My life has
-been a hard one, what with false friends and bitter poverty; but I
-bore it all patiently, and lived--lived, when a hundred times voices
-have whispered in my ear, 'Die, and be at peace!' I had an object to
-live for--Minnie, my darling child! So I lived and suffered, rather
-than die and leave her unprotected. It was a bitter, bitter life. You
-can guess how hard a thing it was for me to find food for her, and how
-often she had to go without it, before the day when you and that
-boy--I cannot utter his name--came to our rescue. From that time until
-this dark cloud"--he placed his hand on the letter--"fell upon me, I
-have been happy. And now, when I need all my strength to fulfil my
-duty as a father--when it seems to me a crime that I should allow her
-to go from my side--this weakness strikes me down."
-
-"Does she know?"
-
-"She knows and must know, nothing. But she must be watched. If there
-be no truth in this letter--and there may not be"--
-
-"I pray not! Oh, I pray not!" cried Susan. "For others' sakes as well
-as yours."
-
-"I understand you; if there be no truth in it, no one need know of it
-but you and I."
-
-"What shall I do?"
-
-"Watch her and him, without seeming to do so," said Basil Kindred. "If
-she goes out, follow her if you can without letting her see you and
-let me know all you see and hear. Mind, I say _all_; keep nothing from
-me. You have promised sacredly."
-
-"I will do what you bid me."
-
-He raised her hand to his lips, and in the midst of her great sorrow
-his action brought a happy feeling to her heart. When she was gone,
-Basil Kindred unlocked a desk and took out a clasped book, in which he
-wrote a few lines. "It is necessary," he sighed, "for my memory is
-lost to me sometimes, and I cannot recall events; and it may save me
-from doing an injustice." Then he replaced the book and locked the
-desk.
-
-
-That night, in her room, Susan sat upon her bed and bowed her head to
-her knees, sobbing, "O my poor Dan! O my poor, poor Ellen! if; after
-all these years, you should find him false!"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XX.
-THE ONLY DUTY THAT MINNIE CAN UNDERSTAND.
-
-
-The "Merry Andrew" was nearly ready for sea again, and Joshua, having
-been duly installed as third mate, was busily employed superintending
-cargo. The Old Sailor was immensely delighted, and took an active
-interest in Joshua's doings. When he was told of the engagement
-between Joshua and Ellen, he smacked Joshua on the back and shook his
-hand again and again, and kissed Ellen a dozen times, the old rogue!
-as if he were the lucky man, and Joshua had nothing to do with it. He
-took a private opportunity of entering into a confidential
-conversation with the young lovers, and told them he had made over his
-barge and all his little property to Ellen and Joshua jointly, "for
-better or worse," he added, with a vague idea that those words were
-necessary in the circumstances of the case. And he took many other
-opportunities of instructing Joshua in the duties of mate and master,
-and also in navigation and astronomy. He was more exacting than any
-Marine Board would have been, and his instructions and examinations
-were of a very severe and precise character. But he had a willing and
-apt pupil in Joshua; and he delighted Ellen by whispering to her
-confidentially that Joshua would make as fine a mariner as could be
-found in the service. The examinations generally took place when only
-the Old Sailor, Joshua, and Ellen were together; and then Joshua
-propounded, to the satisfaction of his teacher, such problems as,
-how he would send a top-gallant yard down in a gale of wind; what he
-would do if he wanted to shiver his main-topsail yard when the leeches
-were taut and the main yard could not be touched: how to turn in a
-dead-eye; what he would do if he wanted to tack on a lee shore, and
-the ship wouldn't come round, and there was not room to wear; and so
-on, and so on. The Old Sailor was not satisfied with simple answers,
-but insisted upon the why and the wherefore; so that what with working
-and studying and sweethearting, Joshua's time was well taken up. Ellen
-herself became quite learned in certain matters concerning Joshua's
-profession, and made him laugh heartily by the wise air she assumed
-when she repeated the twelve signs of the Zodiac, which she had
-learned by heart perfectly, from Aries to Pisces. Joshua, repeating
-after her, would purposely leave out Gemini or Aquarius, or another
-sign, and would instantly be taken to account. In this simple way many
-happy hours were passed. The Old Sailor had a great liking for Captain
-Liddle, because he was a thorough sailor, and Captain Liddle admired
-the Old Sailor for the simplicity of his character.
-
-"You are in luck's way," said the Old Sailor to Joshua: "you are
-sailing under a good master--not a land saint and sea devil--but a
-good officer and a kind man; and you have the dearest and the
-truest-hearted lass in the world to stand by you through life. Do your
-duty, Josh, to her and to your ship."
-
-"I will do my duty to both, sir, you may depend."
-
-The Old Sailor took out his pocket-handkerchief, and thoughtfully
-dabbed his face. "I don't doubt that you will, my lad," he said, "and
-to Dan as well." Now the Old Sailor uttered these last words with a
-significance that seemed intended to convey a deep meaning. His action
-was appropriately mysterious. He looked round cautiously, after the
-best manner of stage robbers, and hooked Joshua nearer to him by a
-motion of his forefinger. "Hark ye, my lad," he whispered, guiding the
-words to Joshua's ear by placing his open palm on one side of his
-mouth; "Hark ye. Do you suspect any thing?"
-
-Joshua opened his eyes very wide at this; he had not the slightest
-consciousness of the Old Sailor's meaning.
-
-"You don't?" continued the Old Sailor in the same mysterious manner.
-"So much the better. I didn't suppose you did. Now, supposing--mind, I
-only say supposing, my lad--supposing you were asked to do a very
-out-of-the-way thing for Dan's sake, but a thing notwithstanding that
-you would be very glad to do"--this with a chuckle expressive of
-intense enjoyment--"would you do it?"
-
-"Would I do it, sir!" exclaimed Joshua warmly. "I don't think you or
-any one could ask me to do a thing for Dan's sake, that I shouldn't be
-glad to do."
-
-"Just my opinion," said the Old Sailor, still in the same
-charnel-house whisper; "and if Dan's happiness depended upon your
-doing this out-of-the-way thing"--
-
-"Why, then, sir, more eagerly and willingly than ever."
-
-"That's plain sailing; it might come to pass, or it mightn't," said
-the Old Sailor, returning his handkerchief to its abiding-place in the
-bosom of his shirt, to denote that the conversation was at an end.
-
-But this did not satisfy Joshua. "What might come to pass, sir?" he
-asked.
-
-The Old Sailor winked craftily at Joshua, and said, "All I've got to
-say is, that it might come to pass or it mightn't."
-
-And try as he would, that was all the satisfaction Joshua could obtain
-from the Old Sailor.
-
-In the mean time Basil Kindred's condition had become so serious, that
-he was unable to leave his room, and he was unreasonably obstinate in
-his refusal to see a doctor. He knew well enough what was the matter
-with him, he said, and doctors could not relieve him. But one day,
-urged by Dan, Minnie brought a doctor to his bedside without
-consulting him.
-
-"Your daughter brought me," said the doctor, seeing that Basil was
-displeased, and wisely judging that mention of his daughter would calm
-him.
-
-Basil called Minnie to him and kissed her. "Go out of the room,
-child," he said; "what passes between me and the doctor must be
-private."
-
-Minnie obeyed, and went down stairs to sit with Dan, and the doctor
-remained with his patient for half an hour. As the doctor came down,
-Minnie opened the door of Dan's room, and the doctor entered.
-
-"Well, sir?" asked Dan.
-
-"Your father is suffering from rheumatism and low fever," said the
-doctor, addressing Minnie. "I have left a prescription in his room;
-run and get it."
-
-Minnie went up stairs, and the doctor said to Dan, "You are very
-anxious about Mr. Kindred."
-
-"Yes, sir, very anxious, both for his sake and for Minnie's."
-
-"Minnie--ah! yes, his daughter. Well, I may tell you in confidence
-what I must not tell her. He is suffering from something more than
-rheumatic fever. He has a disease which may prove fatal at any moment.
-A strong mental shock would very likely prove fatal to him. His mind
-is far from tranquil at the present time, and it is absolutely
-necessary that he should have quiet and repose. Good-morning."
-
-Grieved as Dan was to hear this, it relieved him, for it enabled him
-to account for the sudden change in Basil Kindred's manner which had
-so perplexed him. It also served to account for a change he had
-observed in Minnie. It was not that she was less friendly towards him;
-on the contrary, she had on many occasions been more tender to him
-than usual. But the frank cordiality of her manner was gone; she was
-more reserved, and an engrossed expression, evidently born of painful
-thought, had settled upon her face. Dan had watched it with the
-sensitive eye of love, wondering what had brought it into her face.
-Now he knew the cause: her father's illness brought gloomy forebodings
-to her heart and made her anxious. "Does she ever think that I love
-her?" thought Dan, "and that I am only waiting for the proper time to
-tell her that my life is devoted to her?" He would have spoken that
-very day, but a sentiment of true delicacy restrained him. The feeling
-that closed his lips upon the subject for the present could not have
-existed in any but a chivalrous nature.
-
-When Joshua came home in the evening, Dan told him what the doctor had
-said. Joshua was silent for a little while before he spoke. "It is
-very singular," he then said, "that what you have told me should make
-me easier in my mind. Both Minnie's and Mr. Kindred's manner lately
-have given me great pain, filling me with uneasiness, which I have
-vainly struggled against. It is made clear to me now."
-
-"Why, that was also my feeling, Jo," exclaimed Dan almost gayly.
-"Another proof of the sympathy between us."
-
-"I shall go and see Mr. Kindred. I am ashamed of myself to have
-allowed such small feelings to exist. I ought to have made more
-allowance for his sufferings." His hand was resting upon Dan's
-shoulder. He inclined himself so that he could see the face of his
-friend. "And Minnie?" he asked in that attitude. "How is it with you
-and her?"
-
-"I am more hopeful than ever, Jo; but it would not be right for me to
-speak to her in her trouble."
-
-"That is like you, Dan," said Joshua approvingly. "Ever tender--ever
-considerate--ever just. No; you must not speak until Mr. Kindred is
-better. You must wait."
-
-Dan nodded assent, and Joshua went up stairs to Basil Kindred's room.
-He paused at the door and listened. No sound came from within, and he
-received no answer to his knock. He opened the door softly. The room
-was in darkness.
-
-"Who is there?" was asked in the abstracted voice of one just aroused
-from sleep.
-
-"It is I--Joshua. Shall I get a light?"
-
-"No;" with a sudden fierceness. "What brings you here?"
-
-The want of friendliness in Basil Kindred's voice was very painful to
-Joshua, and it was only by a great effort that he was enabled to
-maintain his composure. "What is the meaning of this, sir?" he asked,
-very gently.
-
-"Of what?"
-
-"Of your changed manner towards me, sir. And not to me only, but to
-all of us. Have we done any thing wrong--have _I_ done any thing
-wrong? If I have, it has been done unconsciously, and it is but just
-that you should not leave me in ignorance of my fault. I came up to
-you now, sir, to ask that we should be to each other as we once
-were--as we were before I went to sea--as we were on the first day of
-our meeting, when you said, 'God bless you, Joshua Marvel.' I have
-never forgotten that, sir. I do not speak to you for myself alone; I
-speak for all of us, who hold you, I am sure, in the tenderest
-respect and regard." Joshua spoke feelingly, and his words had the
-effect of softening Mr. Kindred's manner.
-
-"You are right," he said softly and very "it is not just. Sit here by
-my side." Joshua sat where he was bidden, and waited for Mr. Kindred
-to resume. "Distemper of the mind accompanies distemper of the body,"
-continued the sick man "and you must lay some part of my
-unfriendliness to that cause. I am sick in body, and therefore
-peevish, and therefore, perhaps, unjust. Sick men have sick fancies.
-They magnify straws, even as, lying here in the dark, I can by the
-power of my will, magnify the shadows that rest within this room and
-make them 'palpable to feeling as to sight.' Joshua Marvel, I owe you
-much; you saved me and mine from starvation. I am glad that you are
-here now, and that you met my fretfulness with patience; for there is
-that within my mind, not newly born, but newly risen that I would
-gladly not forget again. All the happiness of the last few years I owe
-to you, for it was for your sake we were welcomed here."
-
-"The pleasure your society has given to all those dearest to my heart,
-sir, is recompense a thousand-fold."
-
-"Those dearest to your heart!" repeated Basil Kindred musingly. "Who
-are they?"
-
-"You ought to know, sir," replied Joshua, surprised at the question.
-
-"It is but a whim--a sick man's whim--but tell me: of all those
-dearest to your heart, whom would you place first? Do not hesitate to
-answer me. We are in the dark, and I cannot see your face."
-
-"In the dark or in the light, before all the world, if it were
-necessary, I could name but one, whom you know well."
-
-"Still, to satisfy me name her."
-
-"Ellen, sir. You know that she is to be my wife."
-
-"I have heard so. Take my hand. I wish you the happiness that faithful
-love deserves. No worldly happiness can be greater. It makes a heaven
-of earth, in whatever sphere of life it comes. And if, as it was with
-me, the partner of your faithful love is called away before you, the
-remembrance of her goodness and purity will dwell forever in your
-heart, like a divine star." His voice had grown so solemn, that Joshua
-could only press his hand in reply. Presently Basil Kindred spoke
-again. "Your past life should be a guarantee for the future. You have
-been faithful in your friendship; you should be faithful in your
-love."
-
-"You do not doubt it, sir?"
-
-"I cannot doubt it; your conduct gives doubt the lie. The shadows seem
-to be clearing away. I have much to say yet, if you will sit with me a
-little while."
-
-"I am glad to do so, and happy to hear you speaking to me again in
-your old kind manner."
-
-"It is so hard to reconcile," mused Basil speaking as much to himself
-as to Joshua. "From whom can the accusation have come? And the
-motive--what can be the motive? Joshua, answer me--have you an enemy?"
-
-"No, sir, not one that I know of."
-
-"Reflect a little. Can you bring to mind any circumstance that
-occurred during the years that you have been away to induce you to
-suppose that some one is conspiring to do you injury?"
-
-"I am more than surprised at your question, sir; I am grieved that you
-should ask it, and apparently with reason. To my knowledge I have not
-a bad friend in the world."
-
-"Your surprise is natural," said Basil; "but though you may think my
-remarks strange, do not think they are prompted by unkindness. I have
-good reasons for what I say. I hold this conversation sacred, Joshua.
-As it may be the last we shall ever have, let what is said between us
-be said in perfect confidence."
-
-"Agreed as to that, sir; but you must not say that this is the last
-conversation we shall ever have."
-
-"When do you go to sea again?" asked Basil Kindred, taking no heed of
-Joshua's remonstrance.
-
-"In less than a fortnight. We set sail first for Sydney, New South
-Wales, then for China, then for home. A short trip. We shall not be
-away long this time."
-
-"Before you return, I shall have gone on a longer voyage than
-you are about to take. Nay, do not interrupt me. I have received
-warning--bodily, not spiritual, and therefore not open to doubt. It is
-impossible that I can live much longer. And with this conviction
-strong within me, I am tortured by an anxiety that racks me with a
-mightier pain than that which even as I speak pierces me to the
-marrow."
-
-Joshua was profoundly shocked at the disclosure; he had not thought it
-was so bad as that. Instinctively he knew what the anxiety was by
-which Basil was tortured, and Basil answered his thought.
-
-"You guess what my anxiety springs from. What will become of Minnie
-when I am gone?"
-
-If he had seen! If in that darkened room a vision had appeared to
-answer him, could he have believed that it would come to pass? But
-silence was his only answer for a time; for Joshua was revolving in
-his mind whether it would be wise and merciful--whether he had any
-right to speak to Basil Kindred about Dan's love for Minnie. The
-conversation between them was sacred and confidential, and the sick
-man's tone when he spoke of the bodily warnings he had received was so
-impressive, that it carried conviction with it. It would be like
-speaking to a dying man, and it would be serving his friend.
-
-"That is my great anxiety," continued Basil; "were my mind relieved
-upon that point, I should fear nothing, for death is my smallest
-terror. I suffer deserved misery when I say that even I, her father,
-do not know her nature thoroughly, and that I fear to think to what
-extent her impulse might carry her. But I know that she needs
-guidance, and that she cannot control herself. I have taught her ill,
-or rather have not taught her at all. I have been remiss in my
-fatherly duty--not intentionally, God knows! But I see it now--I see
-it now." Even in the dark he turned his face from Joshua, the more
-completely to hide his tribulation. "There is but one duty she can
-understand--the duty of love. She knows no higher. She comprehends
-that, because it is instinctive. She has her mother's devoted nature,
-and would sacrifice herself for the only duty she can comprehend, as
-her mother sacrificed herself for me. But she could not be made to
-understand that under certain circumstances love may be sinful."
-
-Joshua, following his train of thought, heard Basil's words, but
-scarcely understood their sense. Still he said,--
-
-"She loves you, sir."
-
-"Yes, she loves me as a father, and by that love I have unconsciously
-controlled her. But that power has gone from me. Our minds are
-strangers; they used not to be so. Once she hid nothing from me; now
-as I watch her I see in her eyes the attempt to hide her thoughts, and
-I cannot express to you my agony in knowing that her heart and mind
-are not open to me, as they have hitherto been. If I knew--if I only
-knew, I should be satisfied; for then I might protect her. Sometimes I
-think that another kind of love has come to her, and has shadowed the
-love she bore for me. But for whom? Do you know?"
-
-He asked the question in a singular tone of fierceness and entreaty;
-but Joshua was thinking of Dan, and did not reply. Have I the right to
-speak? he thought; and an affirmative answer did not come clearly to
-his mind.
-
-"You are silent," continued Basil in a quieter tone. "Are you
-concealing any thing from me?"
-
-"What should I conceal from you, sir?" asked Joshua in reply, after a
-pause.
-
-Basil Kindred sighed, as the words so hesitatingly spoken came from
-Joshua's lips.
-
-"Young men are often thoughtless in their actions," he said mildly, as
-if wishful to rob the remark of direct significance; "they do not know
-the depth and earnestness of some womanly natures. Listen, I will tell
-you my story; it may be a lesson and a warning to you."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXI.
-LOVES SACRIFICE.
-
-
-When I was a young man, I was an enthusiast. My mother had died when I
-was a child. My father was a clergyman, and wished to educate me for
-the church. But my heart was not in my studies, and I did not satisfy
-his expectations. I was too fond of poetry and plays, my tutors told
-him; sterner studies were distasteful to me, and they met with nothing
-but disappointment from so unwilling a pupil. I was also difficult to
-control; would indeed submit to no control. On several occasions when
-a company of players came to the place in which I was being educated,
-I had stolen away to the theatre, remaining there until nearly
-midnight. My tutors spoke the truth. From the first night that I
-stepped inside the walls of a theatre and saw a tragedy, my fate was
-fixed. I was fascinated, entranced. I had never conceived any thing so
-grand, so noble, so heroic. Mine was a pure passion; glitter possibly
-had its effect upon my mind, but no base ingredient was mixed with my
-determination to become an actor. What nobler calling could there be
-than that which clothed the noblest of all the arts with living fire,
-which made dead heroes speak and move and live again? My father
-received the report with displeasure. He looked upon a theatre as the
-abode of all the vices. He spoke to me and expostulated with me, and I
-argued with him until I angered him. Then he took me from school, and
-kept me at home, so that he might wean me from my wicked notions. I
-had not been home a month before a company of players paid our town a
-visit. I was aglow with excitement. My father warned me not to go; I
-told him frankly that I would. He locked me in my bedroom; and I made
-a rope of the sheets, and let myself out of the window. I came home
-late, and my father opened the door for me. He was so strict a
-disciplinarian, that my disobedience was a crime in his eyes. He told
-me so sternly, and told me also that unless I complied with the rules
-of his house, and with his commands as a father, I must find a home
-elsewhere. He had other children, and he declared that I should not
-contaminate them by my example. When I ventured to expostulate with
-him, he stopped me peremptorily. There was no sign of tenderness in
-his manner. He was harsh and hard. He forgot that I inherited some
-share of his own determination, and that I was as likely to be
-immovable in my ideas as he was in his. I felt that I could have
-answered him by arguments as forcible as his, and, with the not
-uncommon egotism of youth, I believed that I could have convinced him.
-But he would not listen to me, and I was compelled to sit silent and
-inwardly rebellious while he laid down the hard rules by which my life
-was to be guided. The glittering splendor of the play I had witnessed
-that night was vivid to my mind while his cold words fell upon my
-ears. The tragedian upon whose musical impassioned utterances I had
-hung entranced, was one of the greatest that ever trod the stage; the
-play I had seen was one of the grandest of England's grandest poet.
-What! was it a crime to come within the influence of such a teacher? I
-could not believe it; I would not believe it. My father said my
-inclinations were sinful, impious, misbegotten, and preached to me
-sternly, uncompromisingly, until my heart--beating with indignation at
-his injustice--was as hard to him as his was to me. Then he left the
-room with a cold goodnight, and I went to bed. But before I went to
-sleep, I took from my box the volume of Shakspeare containing the play
-that I had seen, and as I read the noble verse, the men and women who
-took part therein came and inspired me with the nobility of their
-speech.
-
-On the ensuing Sabbath my father preached against play-houses and
-players. It is not necessary for me here to dilate upon his arguments;
-they were the common arguments generally used against actors and their
-abominations. Players were creatures of the devil, working in his
-service for the damnation of souls. There was no heaven for them; by
-their lives they earned damnation, and they received their wages in
-another life. It was a strong sermon--"a beautiful sermon," as I heard
-many men and women say to each other as they walked from the place of
-worship; but it filled me with indignation. It was a challenge thrown
-out to me, and I accepted it. I do not attempt to justify what I did;
-but it seemed to me as if I should be false to myself if I did not do
-it. On the following evening I went to the theatre early, and secured
-a seat in the most conspicuous position, and sitting there the whole
-night through, I applauded with more than my usual enthusiasm, and
-even--perhaps I should be ashamed to say it--with purposed
-demonstrativeness. It was like giving the lie to my father's teaching;
-but I did not think of it then in that light. I was bound in honor to
-a certain course of action, and I pursued it. When the play was over,
-I walked about the town for an hour, filled with fervent passionate
-admiration for what I had witnessed. It was past midnight when I
-knocked at my father's door. No answer came. I knocked again. Still no
-answer. I was standing in perplexity as to what I should do, when a
-piece of paper fluttered on to the pavement from a window above. I
-picked it up, and saw that it was addressed to me. It was in my
-father's handwriting, and it told me in a few simple words that, as I
-had chosen to commit a sinful outrage upon his cloth, and upon his
-sermon of the previous day, he disowned me as a son and cast me off. A
-postscript was added, to the effect that, upon my calling at or
-sending to a certain place every week, I could receive a small sum of
-money sufficient to keep me from want, but that if I adopted the stage
-as a calling, the money would be withheld. In the event of my adopting
-the stage, my father asked me as a favor to change my name. I never
-received a farthing of the money; I would have died rather than have
-taken it. I started that night from my native town, and I have never
-seen one of my family since.
-
-I need not dwell upon the details of the next few years. The
-recollection is too painful to me. When I walked away from my father's
-house, I solemnly resolved never to set foot in it again; I renounced
-all claims of kindred, and said to myself proudly and confidently, "I
-am alone in the world, without friends, without family. I am free to
-adopt what course in life I think best. I will show my father, by my
-career, that I am right, and he is wrong." I changed my name to the
-name by which you know me. Speaking to you as I am speaking now, with
-the solemn darkness around us, with something like a sense of death
-upon me, I cannot hide from you any thing that comes to my
-recollection. The simple reason for my changing my name was, that it
-laid my father under an obligation to me. The motive was unworthy; but
-it is hard to reconcile the lofty aspirations and the despicable
-sentiment that in the same moment may animate a single mind. Well, I
-marched into the world friendless and unknown, filled with an arrogant
-courage, almost with defiance. I had a watch and a little money; I
-sold my watch to increase my wealth, and before I had spent my last
-shilling, I gained admission to a company of players, and commenced
-life as an actor. I had seen these actors on the stage, and had been
-inspired by them; but my amazement was great when their private lives
-were open to me. The men and women who had inspired me were poor
-struggling creatures, living almost begging lives, and suffering
-almost incredible hardships. The salaries they were supposed to
-receive were barely sufficient to pay for food and lodging; but the
-money that was taken at the doors of the theatre was often of such
-trifling amount, that at the end of the week the players were
-compelled to be content with half, ay, with a fourth the sum due to
-them. They all shared alike; there was none among them who took the
-lion's share while the others starved. The leading tragedian received
-a guinea a week, and was thankful when he got it. I have seen him play
-Macbeth, knowing that he had not tasted food since breakfast; and have
-seen him come off the stage at the end of the play and faint, not from
-enthusiasm and excitement, but from sheer hunger. From this you can
-form some idea of my sufferings; but I never wavered. I was
-indomitable in my resolve. Disenchanted as I was to some extent, I saw
-fame and glory before me, and I followed the beckoning shadows that
-lured me on. And then I saw so much to admire in the lives of my
-poor companions--so much self-sacrifice, so much devotion, so much
-virtue--that I was proud to suffer with them. "Children of the devil,"
-I had heard my father call them. A strong resentment against him
-possessed me when I became a witness of their privations patiently
-borne, of their self-sacrifices cheerfully made. All this
-while--though I endured hunger and every species of worldly misery;
-though I had to walk, many and many a time, forty, fifty, and sixty
-miles, through wet and mud, in boots and shoes that scarcely held
-together; though I often slept in the open air, by the side of
-hay-stacks and under hedges--all this while I was advancing in my
-profession, and enthusiastically believed that the day would come when
-I should be famous and prosperous. So I grew to be a man, more firmly
-hoping, more firmly believing. I was what is called leading man; I was
-at the head of my profession, and was only waiting for the tide--being
-prepared for it--that was to lead me to fame and fortune. But young as
-I was, the life I had led had already destroyed my constitution.
-Rheumatism had planted itself firmly in my bones, and want of
-nourishing food had so weakened me, that I felt like an old man. It
-was only the fire of enthusiasm that sustained me. I believed myself
-to be what I represented at night; I lost all consciousness of my poor
-self while I was acting; and would often come from the theatre with
-the dream strong upon me, and in my sleep weave fancies sufficiently
-bright and beautiful to recompense me for the material hardships of my
-working life.
-
-I was at the height of my powers, when it was both my happiness and my
-misery to come to a town where we had arranged to stop for a
-fortnight, and where I gained such honors in the shape of applause as
-had never before fallen to my lot. It was a prosperous town, and our
-two weeks' stay was so remunerative, that we thought it advisable to
-lengthen our visit. We staid for six weeks--for six happy weeks. The
-place rang with my praises. I was a wonder, a genius; such acting had
-never been seen. Throughout the whole of my career I had preserved my
-self-respect; what I suffered, I suffered in silence. I complained to
-no one, and I never forgot my determination to prove, what perhaps my
-father might one day be forced to own, that an actor may be as good a
-man as a clergyman. Being therefore, in my habits of life, somewhat
-above my companions, and having been so successful in the town, I was
-courted by some of the towns-people, and received invitations to their
-houses. I was what is termed, I believe, a social success; and I was
-proud of it. Here was I, an actor, moving in as good society as was my
-father, a clergyman. Who was right now, he or I. During the second
-week of our stay, I was invited to an evening party; and as my part in
-the performance for that night would be finished by nine o'clock, I
-was enabled to accept the invitation. Fatal night--happy night! That
-night was the real commencement of my life; it shaped my career in
-this world, and it makes me look forward with joy unspeakable to the
-world beyond, where I shall rejoin the mother of my darling child. Her
-family were well born, ad occupied a high position in the town. They
-were looked upon as leaders of fashion; and I learned that night that
-they were among the principal patrons of the theatre, and that her
-father had passed the highest encomiums upon me. They were not present
-at the party, and their daughter was accompanied by her aunt, an
-eccentric wealthy lady, with whom she resided during the greater part
-of the year. I had the good fortune to find favor in the eyes of this
-lady, who had a passion for celebrities, and she invited me to her
-house. The invitation arose in this way; she had been to the theatre
-on the previous evening, and a gentleman in her company had taken
-exception to one of my readings. She mentioned it to me, telling me
-that she had insisted that I was right, and at the same time confessed
-to me, that she had not the slightest idea upon the subject, and had
-been prompted to side with me only for the reason that the gentleman
-was the most insufferably-conceited person on the face of the earth.
-
-"He is not satisfied unless he is master in every thing," said the old
-lady with wonderful warmth; "he is dictatorial, self-willed,
-ungenerous, and supercilious--so much so, that he will scarcely
-condescend to argue a point upon which he has expressed an opinion.
-Nothing would please me more than to be able to bring evidence against
-him respecting your reading."
-
-It so happened that my reading was the correct one, and that the
-emendation made by the gentleman was unsupported by authority. I told
-her so, and she was delighted.
-
-"But it will be of no use my telling him what you say," she said;
-"and it would not be proper to bring you together for the purpose of
-quarrelling about it."
-
-Then I suggested a way. I would consult two or three old editions of
-Shakspeare we had in the company, and have fair copies of the passage
-made from them, with any notes or annotations that might be attached
-to it. There was no occasion, I said, to let the gentleman know that I
-supplied the evidence; it would be sufficient for him to see the
-quotations and the authorities, and he would be able to test their
-correctness for himself. She thanked me warmly, and I frankly owned to
-her that I was almost as much interested in the matter as she was
-herself.
-
-"Ah! you are a student," she said, tapping me with her fan, "and are
-not actuated by such small motives as I am."
-
-I told her that it had been my nature, ever since I remembered myself,
-to be in earnest in what I did. Success could not be attained without
-earnestness, I said; and such a spirit was not thrown away even when
-exhibited in the smallest matters. The old lady was pleased with my
-conversation, and asked me to bring the written quotations to her
-house the following day. She then introduced me to her niece.
-
-Bear with me for a little while. When I commenced, I intended to be
-more brief but I have been carried away by a tide of memories. These
-things that I have spoken of have dwelt in my mind, but mention of
-them has not passed my tongue; not even my daughter has ever heard
-from me the story of my life. All the memories that are dearest to me
-are stirred into life by my speech; and in the midst of the darkness
-in this room, where nothing human exists but ourselves, I see my wife
-as I saw her that night for the first time--as I shall see her soon in
-a better land.
-
-Good and evil, consciously wrought, are not of this world alone; mind
-you that, Joshua Marvel. They bear their fruit hereafter. In what way
-or in what shape we do not know--but they bear their fruit. I never
-loved but one woman in my life, and never was false to her, even in
-thought. I never harbored an unworthy sentiment towards her. I loved
-her truly, purely, solely, as she loved me. If I had done her wrong,
-and, loving her, had played false with another by a single act, by a
-single word of encouragement, even if it were weakly given in a moment
-of weakness, I could not look into this darkness as I do now without
-fear and shuddering.
-
-
-(What was it that passed into the room? The deep darkness that
-prevailed, no less than the intense interest with which Joshua
-followed the course of Basil's story, prevented him from seeing. Yet
-it was no less certain that the door was gently opened, and that a
-person with noiseless footfall entered the room, and, wrapped in
-shade, stood silent in listening attitude.)
-
-
-She loved me, and sacrificed herself for me. Loving me, she conceived
-it to be her duty to follow me; she forsook friends and family, and
-imperilled her good name for me; and in this solemn moment, when all
-the dearest memories of my life give life to my words, life to my
-thoughts, I bless her for it! Her devotion, unworldly as it was, was
-sanctified by love. There is no earthly sacrifice that love will not
-sanctify!
-
-
-(A sound, half sigh, half sob, floated on the air, but so light that
-Joshua doubted if he had heard it. It reached Basil's ears. Rising in
-bed, he clutched Joshua by the shoulder, and whispered in trembling
-tones, "Can spirits speak, and make themselves heard? Did you hear any
-thing?"
-
-"Something like a sigh, I thought," said Joshua; "and yet it is not
-possible."
-
-Rising, he walked to the door; but whoever it was that had entered so
-noiselessly had so departed.
-
-"There is no one here; it must have been fancy."
-
-Basil sank down in the bed, exhausted by emotion, and it was long
-before he resumed his story. During the silence, Joshua thought of
-Ellen, and was happy. Such love as Basil Kindred had spoken of, Ellen
-had given to him. "But she will not have to sacrifice herself for me,"
-he thought; "hers and mine will be a happier lot, I hope." Yet Basil's
-life was grand and noble. "Like a great storm at sea," thought Joshua,
-"and two small boats, lashed together, contending against it vainly."
-His thoughts were interrupted by Basil's voice.)
-
-
-I need not describe her. Minnie is like her; but she was more
-beautiful even than Minnie. I went to the aunt's house, and was a
-frequent visitor there. Alice and I loved each other from the first.
-How I won her pure heart, I do not know. I will not say I was unworthy
-of her; for I was animated by a true ambition, and I was earnest and
-conscientious in all I did. I did not deceive her; I told her exactly
-what I was, what I had suffered, and what I hoped to gain. She paid no
-heed to worldly matters; she loved me, and that was enough. She
-sympathized with me in my ambition, and said it was a noble one. Her
-words were like wine to me; they strengthened and encouraged me.
-During the last week of our contemplated stay in the town I was
-stricken down by rheumatic fever, and was confined to my bed for
-nearly two months. The other members of the dramatic company waited
-for me for a few days, hoping I would get well; but I grew worse, and
-they were too poor to remain idle; so they left without me, and I was
-alone in the place.
-
-I was delirious for a long time, and knew no one about me. How well I
-remember the day when consciousness returned! I opened my eyes,
-wondering where I was, and what had occurred yesterday to cause me to
-feel so deliciously weak; but I could not understand it, and I lay
-contented and happy, as if newly born into a world of peace and
-blissful repose. But as I lay--it might have been for a few moments or
-a few hours--a soft murmur of voices fell on my ear. I did not turn
-immediately in the direction of the sound; I was content to lie and
-listen to the murmur, and had no desire to analyze it--it so
-harmonized with my condition--there was such a sense of luxurious ease
-in it: it was like the soft lapping of the sea upon a shore of velvet
-sand! But with returning consciousness, my mind was gradually aroused
-into activity; and in the whispering of voices, a familiar note,
-sweeter and more musical than the rest, came to me. Lazily I turned my
-head, and saw my darling Alice. Our eyes met, and it was like a flash
-of light. I understood in that instant that she had been my
-ministering angel during my sickness. A look of pity and love was in
-her eyes as I turned to her, and she glided to my side and took my
-hand in hers.
-
-"Alice darling!" I whispered. My voice was tremulous as a blade of
-grass in the summer air.
-
-"Dear Basil!" she said in reply.
-
-No heavenly happiness can be greater than that which entered my
-grateful heart at that moment. All sense of sight and touch and
-hearing--all heart and soul and mind--were merged in the exquisite
-belief that inwrapped me then--in the faith that constituted itself a
-part of me, inseparable, indissoluble, that is mine through all
-time--that she and I were one for ever and ever!
-
-She sat with me until my landlady warned her that it was time to go.
-When she was gone, I learned that not a day had passed since my
-sickness that she had not come to see me.
-
-"Alone?" I asked.
-
-"Yes, alone," my landlady said, adding that she had not spoken to any
-one of the young lady's visits, as they might have been misconstrued.
-
-The significant tone in which she said this caused me to reflect that
-Alice's visits, if discovered, would expose her to the world's
-censure, and I begged my landlady to preserve silence upon the
-subject.
-
-I will not linger upon this part of my story. Alice's visits were
-discovered; and one day, when I was nearly well, and when I was
-sitting by the window waiting for her beloved presence, I received a
-visit from her aunt.
-
-I saw the unpleasant news in her face directly she entered the room.
-She commenced by saying she was glad to see I was nearly well, and
-that she trusted I would not take advantage of a young girl's
-indiscretion.
-
-"It was by the merest accident I discovered that my niece has been in
-the habit of coming to see you every day," said the old lady; "and she
-has been very rash and indiscreet; you must see that, I'm sure."
-
-I did not see it, and I told her so.
-
-"Nonsense!" exclaimed the old lady; "you are a man, and you know the
-ways of the world and its judgment. As a man of honor, you must not
-encourage my niece in her folly."
-
-"Is it a folly to love?" I asked.
-
-But the old lady would not listen to argument, and she demanded my
-promise that I would not see my darling again.
-
-Firmly I refused to give it, unless Alice asked me to do so. We were
-pledged to each other, I said, and it was out of my power to break the
-engagement, unless; Alice wished it broken.
-
-The old lady was terrified by my firmness; and when she asked me what
-I meant to do, and I told her that I meant to marry her niece, she
-exclaimed aghast,--
-
-"Marry her! and you an actor!"
-
-"Yes; and I an actor," I answered proudly.
-
-She kept with me for more than an hour, begging and entreating; but
-she could not move me. I was contending for what was dearer to me than
-life, and an old woman's worldly arguments could not make me false to
-myself and to my love. She tempted me too--offered me money to leave
-the town. After that, I was silent; I would speak to her no more upon
-the subject. When she had exhausted herself, and rose to go, I opened
-the door for her; and before she went out, I thanked her for her
-hospitality to me, and expressed my regret that I should have been the
-means of causing her pain. She made no reply; but I fancied I saw a
-pitying expression on her face as she passed out.
-
-I was overwhelmed by despair, and might have been guilty of I don't
-know what extravagance, had not my darling foreseen my misery, and
-provided against it. Within an hour of the departure of Alice's aunt,
-a note was given to me by my landlady. It was from my darling herself.
-She knew her aunt's errand; she knew that I was true to her; and she
-told me not to lose heart, for she was mine, and mine only, and would
-be true to me till death. Truly, those words were like oil upon the
-troubled waters; my mind was instantly composed, and a deep peace and
-joy fell upon me. The last words of her little note were to the effect
-that she would find means to write to me again soon; and she begged me
-not to go away until she saw me.
-
-So I waited, and grew strong; and time passed, until there came an
-evening when we met--met never to part again. It was a solemn meeting;
-there was no hesitation on one side, or entreaty on the other. We
-walked up and down in the rear of a wood-side inn; and my landlady,
-whom I had asked to accompany me, stood a little distance from us. My
-darling told me that her family were about to take her to the
-Continent, and that she saw no way of resisting. "There is one," I
-said. And as I said this, I stood by the side of an old elm, and she
-stood with drooping head before me. "There is one. We are pledged to
-each other till death. If I parted from you now in the belief that we
-should not meet again, I would pray to God to end my life here where I
-stand."
-
-"Tell me what I shall do," she answered, "and I will do it."
-
-"Follow me," I said. "Share my life, hard though it may be. Be mine,
-as I am yours. Let us walk together till death, and after it."
-
-She placed her hand in mine, and answered me in the words of Ruth, and
-I folded her to my breast, and kissed her.
-
-So, accompanied by my landlady, we turned our backs to the town where
-we first met, and the next day we were married.
-
-Ali, how happy we were, and how our lives seemed spread before us like
-a bright holiday, which was to be spent in a land where the air was
-always sweet--where the flowers were always blooming! No thought of
-winter; but it came, with its frost and snow, and racked me with a
-renewal of the old pains. I could have borne them cheerfully, if they
-had not sometimes prevented me from working. We fell into poverty; and
-through all its bitterness she never complained, and never gave me one
-word of reproach. Nay, often and often, when she saw that my
-sufferings were increased by the thought that I had asked her to share
-my poor life, she comforted me and cheered me with tender speech, that
-fell like balm upon my soul. I struggled on in my profession, gaining
-applause always, but never seeming to mount a step nearer to the goal
-where fame and fortune stood beckoning me. My wife had written to her
-family without my knowledge; but not one of them replied except her
-good aunt, who sent her a small sum of money. When Minnie was born she
-wrote again, but the old lady was dead. Still, somehow we managed: our
-wants were small, and our happiness was perfect. We had to travel
-about a great deal; and when we had not sufficient money to pay our
-coach-fares, we walked, and made the way light for each other by
-cheering words. Many scores of miles have I--the great tragedian, as
-they called me in the bills--carried our little Minnie in my arms,
-lulling her to sleep, or pointing out to her the beauties of nature,
-as they peeped at us out of hedgerows, or as they sprang up in the
-gardens of great mansions, where they were not hidden by grim walls,
-as if their owners were jealous lest the poor toilers on the road
-should enjoy their lovely forms and colors. Now and then we got a lift
-on a wagon, and the music of the bells on the horses' necks often
-lulled Minnie to sleep. We seldom staid in one place longer than a
-fortnight; but once we stopped in a town for nearly four months,
-playing three nights a week. That was a happy time. I used to come
-home from the theatre when my work was done, and Alice and I would sit
-in our humble lodgings until late in the night, talking of such
-matters as were nearest to our hearts; painting the future in bright
-colors, and weaving fancies about our Minnie, who would sometimes be
-lying awake on her mother's lap, and whose little fingers would clasp
-one of mine as the ivy clasps the oak. We made many friends--false
-friends most of them, attracted by my wife's beauty--friends whose
-speech was fair, but whose thoughts were treacherous. But rocks on
-which many a woman's good name and happiness have been wrecked melted
-like snow before my wife's purity. And still we struggled on, hoping
-against hope, until there came a time which cast a shadow on me never
-to be removed except by death. It was in the autumn of the year. My
-wife had been ill, and I had to nurse her and carry her about, and
-study and work, while my heart was almost breaking; for the doctors
-had told me she required wine and nourishing food, and I was earning
-barely sufficient to pay for the commonest necessaries. One night when
-I left the theatre, the rain was pouring down like a second deluge. I
-had been playing the principal parts in tragedy and comedy, and I came
-into the street hot and flushed with my exertions. It was the last
-night I ever played. The rain soaked me to the skin; but I took no
-heed of that; I was too anxious to reach home. I crept into our one
-room, and found my wife asleep. I sat by her side and looked at her
-pale face, and recalled the past. I saw her as she had been five years
-before, a bright and beautiful girl; and as she was now, pale and wan
-as a ghost. I heard her whisper, "Until death, Basil--until death!" I
-threw myself on my knees by the bedside, and hid my face on the bed in
-utter prostration; and while I knelt, my body turned cold as ice, then
-hot as fire, and a feeling like the feeling of death came upon me.
-"_Is_ it death?" I asked myself; and I almost rejoiced at the thought
-that we might pass away together. When I raised my head, the room
-seemed to be thronged with visible fancies. The light and brilliancy
-of the theatre; the dark night with its down-pour of rain; Alice as
-she was when I first met her; my father's study, and he and I looking
-defiantly at each other; all these pictures, and many others, were
-before me, and for a moment seemed to be in harmony with each other.
-Unutterable confusion among them followed; and then a darkness fell
-upon me.
-
-Weeks passed before the darkness cleared away. When I recovered my
-senses, I found my patient angel nursing me, although she was scarcely
-stronger than I was. But what will not a woman's love accomplish? We
-were not in the same town in which I had fallen sick. She had removed
-me to a village some twenty miles distant from my native place. I did
-not discover this until I was able to rise and move about. I was but a
-shadow of myself; all my strength had left me, and I was like a child.
-I was to discover something worse than that. I was to discover that my
-memory was gone, and that, although I could repeat snatches of parts I
-had played, I could not, study as hard as I would--and I tried
-diligently during my convalescence--get the complete parts into my
-head. My wife helped me--looked at the book while I stumbled
-on--prompted me, encouraged me, bade me rest for a day and try again.
-All in vain. If I was rehearsing the scenes in "Hamlet," speeches and
-lines uttered by Macbeth and Lear, interpolated themselves, and I grew
-hopelessly confused.
-
-So, then--my occupation was gone; my ambition was at an end. The
-knowledge would have been bitter enough to bear had I been by myself;
-but there were my wife and daughter, my darling Minnie, my patient
-suffering Alice, to provide for, and I in debt, without a penny in the
-world, and without any means of driving white-faced hunger from my
-dear ones. The despairing conviction almost brought on a relapse, and
-it was only by the strongest effort of will that I kept my senses. But
-I could not get strong; rheumatism had fastened itself too firmly in
-my bones, and would not be driven away; and I was afflicted with
-distressful shudderings and with feverish attacks, during which I knew
-no one about me. Winter was coming on fast. Every atom of clothing
-that could be spared had been sold by my wife; what she must have
-suffered, dear angel! can never be told. Was it my selfishness or
-blindness that prevented me from seeing death written in her face? I
-did not see it--I did not suspect it--until the time when her cold
-body lay before me. She suffered--yes; she could not disguise that
-from me; but the pleasant smile and the cheerful look of content and
-hope with which she always answered my wistful gaze, blinded me to her
-condition and to the extent of her sufferings. I did not ask her why
-she had brought me to the village--I guessed that it was because I had
-known it in my happier days, and because it might induce me to think
-of my father, and of the advisability of asking help from him. She did
-not say a word upon the subject. She knew the story of my boyish life,
-and was content that I should do as I thought best. But she was a
-mother as well as a wife, and she deemed it to be her duty to bring me
-where, if I so pleased, I might possibly obtain assistance. I thought
-over it, and, bitter as it was, I saw that my duty lay clear before
-me. I would sacrifice my pride and humble myself to my father. And yet
-I hesitated--hesitated until one morning my wife came into the room
-looking so strange that I passed my hand before my eyes, wondering if
-I were awake.
-
-"Alice!" I cried.
-
-She came to my side with a cheerful look. Her beautiful hair, that had
-hung down to her waist was gone. I took her upon my knee, and folded
-her in my arms, and sobbed like a little child. She soothed and
-comforted me.
-
-"It will grow again," she said, knowing but too well that before that
-time came she would be beneath the daisies. "The landlady wanted
-money, and every thing was sold but that. See, I can pay her."
-
-"All?" I asked.
-
-"No, not all," she said cheerfully; "but perhaps some good fortune
-will come to us."
-
-That morning I wrote to my father. I told him that I was married to a
-gentlewoman, noble, good, and pure, that we had a child, and that I
-was ill and in want. But no answer came. I wrote again, begging him to
-reply and to assist us. Still no answer. And meanwhile my wife was
-fading before my eyes, and our landlady clamored for what was due to
-her. Oh, if I could have sold my blood for money, I would have done
-it, when I heard her coarse tongue revile my wife! I tottered into the
-passage.
-
-"Woman!" I cried, "you shall be paid. I will go and get money."
-
-"Where?" asked my wife in a faint voice.
-
-"At my father's," I answered. "Come, we will go and lay our sorrows at
-his feet."
-
-I took Minnie in my arms, and we started in the direction of my native
-town. It was not until we had walked four or five miles that we
-discovered how weak we were. We were penniless and hungry, and Minnie
-was crying for food. I went into a public-house, and begged for some.
-I was turned out without ceremony; but a common woman, who was
-drinking with a tinker, ran after me--God bless her for it!--and put a
-biscuit into Minnie's hand. We struggled on. A mile nearer. My wife
-grew white in the face, and her lips were black. And as I looked at
-her, there came by her side the image of what she was, ruddy,
-bright-eyed, rosy-lipped. I saw it, I tell you. The impalpable shape
-of the beautiful girl, radiant with health, walked with light step by
-the side of the careworn haggard-faced woman. I must have been crazed.
-She saw in my face the disturbed condition of my mind.
-
-"Courage!" she whispered, taking my arm.
-
-I laughed, and looked around. Fortunately, no one was near us, or I
-should have robbed him--weak as I was, despair would have given me
-strength. I have asked myself since, if it would have been a crime,
-and have not found the answer. Ten miles were compassed when a storm
-came on--a dreadful pitiless storm, in which the slanting wall of rain
-before us seemed to shut out hope. We toiled through it, fainting from
-weariness and hunger; we toiled through it, until I fell prone to the
-earth. My wife knelt by me in the wet grass, and implored me to make
-another effort for her sake, for our child's. I tried to rise, but
-could not. All that I could do was to drag myself to a clump of trees,
-where I lay exhausted. Every word that passed between us from that
-time is too deeply engraven on my mind ever to be forgotten.
-
-"Wife," I said, "the struggle is over. Kiss me and forgive me."
-
-In the midst of her agony, a sweet smile irradiated her face. I could
-not see it, but I knew it was there by her voice.
-
-"Forgive you, husband!" she exclaimed, as she kissed me. "We have
-nothing to forgive each other. Pity and love are all that I feel now.
-Love for you and our darling Minnie,"--and she placed our little
-darling's hand on my aching eyes--"and pity for your great
-sufferings."
-
-Not a word of herself! Her pure unselfish nature was triumphant over
-all. As surely as we have hands to feel and eyes to see such love as
-hers is heaven-born, and dies not with the flesh!
-
-"Rest here," she said, placing our child in my arms. "I will go and
-seek help. Keep up your heart while I am gone."
-
-I had no power to stop her, and she left me and was lost in the gloom.
-Hours must have passed, though it was night when I awoke. I had fallen
-into sleep, and in my dreams all the circumstances of my life played
-their miserable parts; from the dawn of my ambition down to the words
-of my wife, "I will go and seek help. Keep up your heart while I am
-gone." When those words were uttered, I followed my wife, in my dream,
-as she stumbled on through the darkness. Suddenly I lost her; then a
-whisper of pain stole upon me, and I heard her murmur, "Come to me,
-Basil; I am dying." A strength born of fear enabled me to rise
-shuddering to my feet. "Alice!" I cried. No voice answered me, but I
-still seemed to hear the echo of the words, "Come to me, Basil; I am
-dying." With Minnie in my arms, I followed the sound. Some wonderful
-chance directed my steps aright. How far I walked, I do not know. The
-rain was still falling, but there was a glimmering light in the sky to
-guide me. The trees, past which I crept painfully and wearily, were
-bare of leaves; their naked branches were emblematical of the
-desolation of my heart. I crept onward until I came to a spot where I
-saw a form lying on the ground. No need to tell me whose form it was
-that I saw before me. No sound came from the lips, no sign of life was
-observable in the limbs. The ghostly echo of the cry, "Come to me,
-Basil; I am dying!" died away upon the wind as I fell by the side of
-my darling, who had sacrificed her life for me. I raised her head on
-my lap, and looked into her white face. The eyelids quivered, opened;
-a look of joy leaped into her eyes.
-
-"Oh, my darling, my darling!" I wailed; "wait for me."
-
-I inclined my head to her lips, for they were moving.
-
-"I will wait for you, Basil. There!" And she looked up to heaven,
-while the cruel rain poured down upon her face.
-
-I placed Minnie's lips to hers, and the child clasped her little arms
-round her mother's neck.
-
-"Live, Basil," she said slowly and painfully, "live for her. No, no!"
-fearing that I was going from her, "do not leave me yet!"
-
-Her fingers tightened on mine, and she closed her eyes. I leaned over
-her to protect her from the rain. In that supreme moment of sacrifice
-a smile rested on her lips.
-
-"Till death, and after it, Basil, my love!" she whispered.
-
-And her soul passed away into the wintry night.
-
-
-"You are crying," said Basil Kindred, after a long pause. "My story
-has touched your heart. I have told it to you for the purpose of
-opening your eyes to Minnie's nature. She is like her mother, without
-her mother's teaching. She is a wildflower; the impulse of her mind is
-under the control of the impulse of her heart. She is oblivious of all
-else, defiant of all else. Those of her friends who have the
-consciousness of a higher wisdom than she possesses--those of them who
-can recognize that the promptings of such a heart as hers may possibly
-lead her into dangerous paths--must guide her gently, tenderly. If any
-betray her, he will have to answer for it at the Judgment-seat.
-Joshua, you said to me, when you entered this room, that you had not
-forgotten the blessing I gave you on the first day of our meeting. I
-repeat that blessing. In all your actions that deserve blessings and
-prosperity, I say, God bless and prosper you, Joshua Marvel! Now leave
-me."
-
-
-Joshua's face was wet with tears, and his heart was throbbing with
-sympathy for Basil as he walked down stairs. In the passage he heard a
-footfall that he knew to be Minnie's. It was too dark to see her face.
-
-"Is that you, Minnie?"
-
-"Yes, Joshua," she answered, in a low voice. "You have been sitting
-with father."
-
-"Yes."
-
-"I have been wishing to speak to you, and I was afraid I might not get
-the opportunity, for father is very strange to me. When does your ship
-sail, Joshua?"
-
-"In a very few days Minnie."
-
-"I should so much like to see it, if there was no harm in my coming."
-
-"What harm can there be, Minnie?" exclaimed Joshua. "Come to-morrow to
-the docks at twelve o'clock when the men are at their dinner. Bring
-Ellen or Susan with you, and ask for the 'Merry Andrew,' and I will
-show you over it."
-
-"Thank you, Joshua. Goodnight."
-
-"Goodnight, Minnie."
-
-As their hands met, Susan, carrying a light, came from the kitchen.
-Joshua did not wish Susan to see the tears on his face, and he turned
-hastily away as she approached. But she did not appear to notice
-either him or Minnie, as she passed to the upper part of the house;
-and the next moment Minnie glided away, and Joshua entered the room
-where Dan and Ellen were sitting.
-
-The following day Joshua, looking over the bulwarks of the "Merry
-Andrew," saw Minnie standing in bewilderment amidst the busy life and
-the confusion of bales and cases on the wharf. He was surprised to
-find that she was alone. He hastened to her side, and asked her why
-Ellen or Susan had not come with her, and received for reply that she
-had thought they were both too busy, and had not liked to ask them.
-
-"But you don't mind my coming by myself, Joshua, do you?" she said,
-looking into his face.
-
-"No," he said, returning her gaze. Her eyes were sparkling with youth
-and health, and her cheeks had a bright color in them from the brisk
-walk she had taken in the crisp air. "But I would have preferred your
-not coming alone."
-
-"I will go back rather than offend you."
-
-"Offend me!" he exclaimed. "You are a stupid to talk of offending me.
-And as for going back, that would be sheer nonsense now you have taken
-the trouble to come."
-
-It was impossible to look at her without pleasure; she was as
-beautiful as the spring. A good many of the sailors turned to take
-another peep at her, and thought what a lucky fellow the third mate of
-the "Merry Andrew" was to have such a lass as that to come and see
-him. But he was in luck's way right round, they said to each other as
-they walked along. Joshua, not wishing to submit Minnie to their
-prying looks--although, being human, he was proud of them a little
-bit, it must be confessed--took her hand to lead her up the gangway.
-It was not easy for Minnie to get aboard, and Joshua had almost to
-carry her.
-
-"How strong you are," she said, "to be able to carry a big girl like
-me! And this is your ship."
-
-"It is lumbered up at present, Minnie," he said; "but when we are at
-sea, and the decks are cleared, and the sails are set, and we are
-flying along before a fair wind, it is a little better than this, I
-can tell you. I can smell the sweet spray now, as it comes dashing
-up." His nostrils dilated at the mere thought of the ocean, and
-involuntarily he passed his hand before his eyes, clearing away
-imaginary spray.
-
-"How beautiful it must be!" exclaimed Minnie.
-
-Joshua abated a little of his enthusiasm. "It's all very well in fine
-weather, when the wind and sea are kind; but you would be frightened
-at storms."
-
-"Not if you were on the ship, Joshua," she said dreamingly, but in so
-soft and low a voice that he did not catch the words; yet he looked at
-her keenly; but she did not notice his gaze, for she was wrapped in
-thought, and her eyes were turned from him. So still did she stand,
-that Joshua touched her sleeve to attract her attention. She started,
-as if he had aroused her from sleep, and then they went over the ship
-together. She was very anxious to see every thing, and they had a busy
-half-hour. The last part of the ship they went into was the saloon.
-
-"Captain Liddle has been very particular about the saloon," Joshua
-said, "for his wife is coming with us this voyage. Here are their
-cabins--one for the captain and his wife, and this little one
-adjoining for her maid."
-
-Minnie peeped into the cabins, and wondered how ladies could live in
-such a dark place. Joshua had to explain that the cabins were dark
-because the ship was in dock, and that when they got out at sea there
-was light enough for any thing. Then they ascended to the deck again,
-and Minnie thanked Joshua and prepared to go. Just at that moment
-Joshua saw--or fancied he saw--Susan standing on the wharf. She was
-standing quite still, and her eyes were fixed on the poop of the
-"Merry Andrew."
-
-"Why, there's Susan!" he exclaimed; and, leaving Minnie on deck, he
-hurried down the gangway. But the woman was gone, and he could find no
-trace of her. He returned to Minnie in a state of perplexity.
-
-"I thought I saw Susan on the wharf," he said.
-
-"You must have been mistaken, Joshua," said Minnie; "she was hard at
-work at home when I left. If it had been Susan, she would not have
-gone away when you went towards her."
-
-"I suppose I _must_ have been mistaken. Good-morning, Minnie; take
-care of yourself going home."
-
-He led her down the gangway, and Minnie made her way, like a gleam of
-sunshine among the throng of rough workingmen, who stood aside to let
-her pass, and sent admiring looks after her. During his work that
-afternoon Joshua thought much of her, and of her father's anxiety
-concerning her. "Mr. Kindred is right," he thought. "Minnie requires
-gentle tender guidance; such guidance as Dan can give her, and will
-have the right to do soon, I hope. She can have no better teacher,
-wiser counsellor, than Dan!"
-
-So he mused and worked, and saw no signs of the dark clouds that were
-gathering about him.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXII.
-NEVER TO RETURN.
-
-
-Could a map be made of the mental life of a man whose career has been
-marked by the commonest of commonplace incidents, and from that map a
-tale were woven, it would transcend in interest the most eventful
-story that can be found in the wonder-world of fiction. Space matter,
-and all the abstract relations of the Great System, affect the meanest
-order of mind, and produce the strangest of contrasts between the
-outer and inner life of men. Not more strange perhaps, but certainly
-more beautiful, are the contrasts presented in men of a high order of
-intelligence. As in the case of Dan. Quiet as were the grooves in
-which his material life moved, compassed as it was by a few narrow
-streets, his ideal life was a romance. It glowed with poetic beauty,
-and was filled with graceful images, like a peaceful lake in whose
-waters are reflected the glories of grand sunsets and the delicate
-lines and colors of night clouds and overhanging trees. Had it been
-Dan's fate to mix with the world, his sensitive nature would have
-rendered him the most unhappy of beings. The selfishness with which
-the world abounds, and with which he would have been brought in
-contact, would have made his life a misery. Wishful to see good in
-every thing, he would have seen its reverse in so many things, that
-his enduring faith in the purity and goodness of those upon whom he
-fixed his affections might have been weakened. His friends were few,
-but all his heart was theirs, and no doubt of their truth found place
-in his mind. Not to suspect belonged to the nobility of his nature.
-
-Otherwise, he might have found cause for suspicion in what was
-occurring around him. Three days before Joshua's final departure from
-home, Basil Kindred locked himself in his room, and denied himself and
-Minnie to every person but Susan. She, and she only, attended to his
-wants, and faithfully obeyed his wishes. To all inquiries the one
-answer received, through Susan's lips, was, that he was too ill to be
-seen, and that he required the constant attendance of his daughter,
-who could not leave his room. Even Mrs. Marvel could not shake his
-resolution, and was surprised to find that Susan encouraged him, and
-would not assist her in her kind endeavors.
-
-"It is not good for Minnie," remonstrated Mrs. Marvel, "to be
-cooped-up in that room all day. She can nurse her father--it is only
-right she should--but her health will suffer if she does not have
-fresh air."
-
-"Mr. Kindred knows what is best for himself and Minnie," returned
-Susan in a voice that trembled, despite her efforts to be firm. "He
-has asked me to nurse him, and to keep everybody out of his room until
-he is better; and I mean to do it. If I can't do it here, I shall take
-him away where he won't be disturbed."
-
-"Let me go up and see him," persisted Mrs. Marvel. "I may be able to
-do him some good."
-
-"You can't do him a bit of good," replied Susan uncompromisingly, "and
-he won't let anybody but me go into his room."
-
-"Sick people don't always know what is best for them, my dear. We are
-all of us very much distressed and anxious about Minnie and her
-father. They are more than friends to us, and perhaps you do not guess
-what Minnie is to"--But Mrs. Marvel was stopped in her speech by a
-fierce exclamation from Susan. The good mother was not sorry for the
-interruption; she had been about to refer to Dan's love for Minnie,
-which her delicate and keen instinct had discovered, and the thought
-came to her that perhaps it would not be wise to speak of it. She was
-not the less surprised at Susan's agitation, and at the frightened
-look which immediately afterwards flashed into Susan's eyes--a look
-which asked, "What have I said? Have I betrayed my trust?" But the
-next moment Susan resumed her determined manner, and no entreaties of
-Mrs. Marvel could move her. When Mrs. Marvel told her husband of the
-interview, he said he was sure that Basil Kindred was not right in
-his head, and that the best thing to do would be to let the sick man
-have his own way. As for Susan, Mr. Marvel said, she was always
-strange--they were a pair, she and Basil Kindred.
-
-So no further attempt was made by any of them to see Basil Kindred and
-Minnie until the day when Joshua was going to sea. On that day Joshua
-went to Basil's room, and knocked. Susan came out of the room into the
-passage, and stood with her back to the door.
-
-"I have come to say good-by," said Joshua; "and I should like much to
-speak to Minnie and Mr. Kindred before I leave. Go in Susey, and ask
-him to see me."
-
-Susan returned the usual answer, but Joshua's entreaties caused her to
-waver. She re-entered the room, and Joshua heard Basil's voice
-speaking to her. Then Susan came out again, and said,--
-
-"Mr. Kindred is too ill to see you--he told me to say so."
-
-"And Minnie?"
-
-"Minnie!" echoed Susan; and then in a low troubled voice, "Minnie is
-asleep."
-
-Joshua was inexpressibly pained.
-
-"I must be content, I suppose," he said, sighing; "but I am deeply
-grieved. Something seems to have come between us lately, and shall go
-away leaving a mystery behind. I wonder sometimes if am the cause of
-this estrangement. If I am, I hope all will be set right when I am out
-of the way."
-
-"I hope so," said Susan, with a singularly earnest look.
-
-"You hope so! Then I am the cause, and you believe it. Take care,
-Susan that you are not assisting in bringing unhappiness among us."
-
-"It is for you to take care," said Susan, with bitter emphasis, "that
-you do not do so."
-
-"What do you mean?" asked Joshua, in amazement. "Tell me. I have a
-right to ask, Susan, for you will one day be my sister."
-
-Joshua had taken her hand as he spoke, but she snatched it from him
-angrily.
-
-"I can tell you nothing that you do not know," she said hurriedly. "If
-I am to be your sister, I have only one thing to say to you."
-
-"Well?" he inquired, in an offended tone, for he was angered by
-Susan's manner.
-
-"Be true to Ellen," she said, with quivering lips and in a softer
-voice.
-
-"Is that your fear?" he exclaimed almost gayly. "Be true to Ellen!
-Why, Susey, I love her with all my heart and soul. But there! words go
-for nothing. Time will show. Bid Minnie and Mr. Kindred good-by for
-me, and say I was sorry I could not see them before I went away."
-
-He put out his hand, and mechanically she took it in hers; but she
-unloosed it immediately with a shudder, and left him abruptly. He was
-compelled to be content with that good-by, unsatisfactory as it was,
-and he walked to his home, where Dan had been staying for the last few
-days, eating there, and sleeping, in Joshua's room. Sitting in their
-bedroom alone on those last few nights, when all but themselves in the
-house were sleeping the friends renewed their vows of faithful love,
-and spoke of many things in the future which both of them desired. In
-one of these conversations Joshua put into Dan's hands a written
-paper, which made Dan and Joshua's father masters of his small savings
-and of wages that would be due to him from the London owners of the
-"Merry Andrew."
-
-"In case any thing happens to me," said Joshua, in explanation.
-
-"Not for any other reason, Jo," said Dan, "for I shall never want the
-money."
-
-"Father may want a little. It is all his and yours. As to your never
-wanting money, I wish I could feel sure of it."
-
-"You may, Jo; I am earning quite enough with my birds. Mr. Fewster
-gave me an order yesterday for four canaries thoroughly trained to do
-all the best and newest tricks."
-
-Joshua uttered a dissatisfied "Hm!" at the mention of Mr. Fewster's
-name. Dan understood it, for Joshua had contracted what Dan said was
-an unreasonable dislike for Solomon Fewster. Now, in reply to a
-remonstrance from Dan, Joshua said,--
-
-"But you don't like him, Dan."
-
-"I don't know that," said Dan, considering. "When you put it to me so
-plainly, I am rather inclined to say I do like him; for I cannot give
-a reason for not doing so. I _can_ give a reason for liking him; he
-buys my birds"--
-
-"And sells them at a profit, I'll be bound."
-
-"Perhaps; he has a right to do so, if he pleases. I did think at first
-that he bought them for himself, but of course I was mistaken.
-However, whatever he does with them, he buys them and pays for them:
-that's enough for me. You could give as good a reason for liking him.
-He was kind to you when you were ill."
-
-"Oh, yes! brought me jellies and things"--
-
-"And you ate them and relished them," said Dan, laughing.
-
-"I didn't know that he had brought them, or I wouldn't have touched
-them. I remember in one of our coasting-trips we had a passenger on
-board who wrote for newspapers, and who was said to be a very clever
-man. Certainly he talked like one. He used to talk to me, as much
-perhaps because I was a good listener, as for any other reason. Well,
-a favorite subject with him was what he called magnetic sympathy. He
-would just have suited you, Dan! He said that the natural magnetism
-which makes persons like or dislike one another, without apparent
-reason, is never wrongly directed."
-
-"A kind of instinct," remarked Dan reflectively.
-
-"He said, too, that as there are certain things in chemicals that
-won't mix, being opposed in their natures, so there are persons who
-have natural antipathies"--
-
-"And won't mix--like you and Mr. Fewster," interpolated Dan.
-
-"Just so. Besides that, I have a good many little reasons for not
-liking Mr. Fewster.
-
-"Firstly," prompted Dan.
-
-"He never looks me in the face."
-
-"Secondly."
-
-"He has a horribly smooth voice."
-
-"Thirdly."
-
-"He has flat feet--ugly flat feet. I shall always hate men with flat
-feet. Then every thing about him shifts and shuffles. But don't let us
-talk about him any more. I can't keep my temper when he is in my
-thoughts."
-
-The conversation drifted into other subjects, and Solomon Fewster was
-dismissed.
-
-It was Dan's whim to have all his birds on a table for Joshua's
-inspection on the morning of his friend's departure.
-
-"Although we are men now, Jo," he said, "I should wish us to keep our
-boyish fancies fresh and green always in our hearts. There is plenty
-of room for them, notwithstanding that life is a more serious thing to
-us than it was."
-
-There they were, the modest linnets, the saucy tomtits, the defiant
-blackbirds, the handsome canaries. Among the latter were four which
-Dan pronounced to be "real beauties;" they were of a beautiful orange
-color, and the feathers in their tails and wings were of a deep black.
-These were the canaries which Dan had spoken of as having been
-"ordered" for Solomon Fewster. As they were admiring them, Solomon
-Fewster's step was heard in the passage, and the man himself entered
-to wish Joshua good-by. He was profuse in his good wishes, to which
-Joshua listened in silence, uttering no word but "good-by" as Fewster
-quitted the room. It so happened that, during the pauses in his
-expressions of good will to Joshua, Solomon Fewster looked at the
-canaries which Dan had purchased for him, and handled them with words
-of approval. When he was gone, Joshua who had thrown his handkerchief
-carelessly upon the table, said,--
-
-"That man hates me, Dan, more than I hate him."
-
-"My dear Jo," said Dan, "how can you be so fanciful?
-
-"Forewarned is fore-armed, Dan. I beg of you not to trust him; I beg
-of you not to believe he is any thing but a cruel false man. He wishes
-me ill--else why do I instinctively shrink from the touch of his hand?
-He wishes me ill--else why is this?" Joshua removed his handkerchief,
-and Dan saw one of his beautiful canaries dead upon the table. "As he
-talked to me with his smooth tongue," continued Joshua, "wishing me
-well in his hateful voice, he crushed the life out of this poor bird.
-Is that no sign of a false bad heart? Had his thoughts been as gentle
-as his words, would this have happened?" Dan was silent; he could not
-defend Solomon Fewster by another word. "Let us say good-by here, dear
-Dan. Mother and father are waiting for me, and many of the neighbors
-also, to give me God-speed in a better fashion and with kinder hearts
-than that cruel man. Good-by, dearest friend. God send you all that
-your heart desires!"
-
-"Thank you, dear friend. You know the one thing I desire to render me
-perfectly happy--Minnie's love. Say, 'God speed you in that venture!'
-Jo."
-
-"God speed you! Dan, it comes upon me now to ask you one question. You
-do not doubt me, do you?"
-
-"Doubt you, Jo! No, nor never can."
-
-"The answer is from your heart. I should not have asked but that some
-things have distressed me lately, and I should indeed be unhappy if I
-thought you had the shadow of a doubt of me. It may be that our voyage
-will not be prosperous; it may be that I may never live to return. If
-I do not--nay, Dan, I am impelled to speak thus--if I do not, believe
-me to have been always the same to you. Believe that I never wavered
-in my love or my truth, and that to the last I held you in my heart,
-as I hold you now, gentlest, dearest, best of friends."
-
-Dan drew Joshua's face to his and kissed it.
-
-"We are one, Jo," he said softly; "nothing can divide our hearts. God
-bless and protect you, and bring you safely back."
-
-The leave-taking between Joshua and his parents was of a very
-different nature from the last, when he was leaving home for the first
-time in his life. Then Mr. and Mrs. Marvel were beset with doubts as
-to whether the step Joshua was about to take was for the best. Now,
-these doubts were dissolved. He had gone on his venture a bright happy
-boy, and had returned a bright happy man. He had started on the lowest
-round of the ladder, and had already mounted many steps. Third mate
-already! What might he not attain to? They were proud of him, and with
-just cause. All the neighbors were proud of him, too; he was a prince
-among them. The family were quite a distinguished family in the
-neighborhood, as having for their representative a young man who had
-been all over the world--a man who had not only seen the sea, but who
-had been on it. A little crowd of neighbors had gathered about the
-house to give Joshua a parting handshake. The information of their
-having gathered for that purpose was imparted to Joshua by his father
-with an air of pride.
-
-"I've lived in this neighborhood for nearly fifty years, Josh," said
-George Marvel, "and I've never but once seen so many of the neighbors
-on the lookout at one time."
-
-"When was that, father?" asked Joshua, humoring his father's vanity.
-
-"That was when a carriage with two white horses came through the
-street, and stopped in it for full five minutes. It was the first
-carriage that ever was seen here, and the last, for that matter. You
-remember, mother!
-
-"Yes, George."
-
-"I wish you could have stopped with us until the last minute, Josh,"
-continued George Marvel; "but Mr. Meddler was so mightily anxious that
-you should spend tonight and to-morrow with him at Gravesend, that he
-couldn't well be refused, being so good a friend. Do you think your
-ship will sail to-morrow?"
-
-"To-morrow or next day, daddy." And Joshua put his arm round his
-mother's neck, and she looked up at her big son with affectionate
-pride.
-
-"In three or four months you'll be among the savages again," observed
-George Marvel contemplatively and admiringly.
-
-"I shall see plenty of them, I dare say, father. They come down to
-Sydney from what the people call the interior."
-
-"And they are black all over, eh, Josh?" asked George Marvel, who was
-never tired of a repetition of Joshua's adventures.
-
-"A kind of brown-black rather," answered Joshua, "with eyes like
-pieces of lighted coal."
-
-"And not a bit of clothing?"
-
-"An old blanket, some of them; nothing at all, a good many. A sailor
-gave one a pair of trousers, and the fellow tied them round his neck
-by the legs."
-
-"D'ye see what strange things there are in the world, mother, that we
-never knew of?" observed George Marvel to his wife. "That comes of
-being a wood-turner all one's life.--Josh, if you have children, don't
-make wood-turners of 'em."
-
-"I won't, father," said Joshua, laughing; "but I'm not certain either
-that I'd make sailors of them."
-
-"There, father!" Mrs. Marvel could not help saying triumphantly, "what
-do you say to that? Joshua is coming round to my old way of thinking."
-
-"Now, one would think," said George Marvel, appealing to an invisible
-audience, "that Joshua's done a bad thing by being a sailor."
-
-"Well, no," said Joshua; "I've nothing to grumble at; I've been very
-lucky, and I'm thankful for it. But it is a hard life for a common
-sailor. He's bullied here and buffeted there, and is obliged to be up
-at all times of the night and day sometimes, and he gets soaked and
-soaked until he hasn't a dry thing to put on. Then, when he's
-dead-beat and turns in, he hasn't been asleep an hour perhaps when all
-the watches are called on deck, and there he is again, half dead with
-sleep, wondering whether he is dreaming or not, till he is woke up
-with a vengeance by the water trickling down his back, and the wind
-blowing as if it would blow his eyes clean out of his head."
-
-Mrs. Marvel shivered with apprehension at Joshua's description; and he
-with ready tact continued,--
-
-"But that's not often; and even when an inexperienced man would
-suppose there was great danger, there really is none at all. For the
-most part, it is fair and beautiful; and when you are bowling along
-under a steady breeze, with all sails set, surrounded by a bright
-cloud and bright water, there isn't a more glorious life in the world.
-If you were to see the ship, mother dear, on a calm day, with the
-sails like birds' white wings, with a deck as clean as this kitchen
-and the sailors sitting about mending sails and splicing ropes, while
-the grand albatrosses are flying over us, and shoals of beautiful fish
-are leaping like deer in the sea--if you were to see it then, you
-would almost wish you had been a man, so that you might be a sailor.
-And through all 'there's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft, to
-keep watch for the life of poor Jack.'"
-
-"Indeed, my dear," exclaimed Mrs. Marvel, satisfied with the sentiment
-of the quotation, though its meaning was not quite clear to her; "I'm
-glad to hear that."
-
-"Dear old mother!" said Joshua, in secret delight at her simplicity,
-kissing her.
-
-"But the best of it all is," said George Marvel, "it makes a man of
-you; your muscle's like a bit of iron. Feel mine, Josh--like a bit of
-soft putty. That comes of being a wood-turner."
-
-"Ellen and Mr. Meddler went down to Gravesend two hours ago,"
-said Mrs. Marvel to Joshua, who was tying his accordion in his
-pocket-handkerchief.
-
-Joshua nodded. Brave as he had intended to be, spasms were rising in
-his throat.
-
-"You have all your things, dear?"
-
-"Yes, every thing."
-
-He turned to take a last look at the homely kitchen, noting in that
-momentary glance the position of every piece of furniture and of the
-crockery on the dresser. The yellow-haired cat was too old now to do
-any thing but lie on the hearth before the fire; and Joshua stooped
-and patted its head. When he rose and put his hand on the back of a
-chair, it seemed to him as if that common piece of wood and every
-other inanimate thing in the room were familiar friends. The very
-shape of the room was dear to him. The dear old kitchen! how many
-happy hours had he passed in it! He could have knelt and kissed the
-floor, his heart was so tender. As it was, he touched the table and
-the mantle-shelf; over which the bright saucepan-lids were hanging,
-lovingly with his fingers, and with dim eyes walked slowly away. His
-arm was round his mother's waist as they went up stairs to the
-street-door, and he put his face to her neck and kissed it--a favorite
-trick of his when he was a child. It brought to her suddenly the fancy
-that her son was a baby-boy still; and she caressed his curly head as
-a young mother might have done. Mr. Marvel of course was too manly to
-give way to such weakness; but nevertheless he clasped Joshua's hand
-with a clinging fondness, and the tune he was humming in proof of his
-manliness came rather huskily from his throat. It was a triumphant
-moment for him when he opened the street-door, and stood on the step
-with his wife and Joshua; for there in the street were many of his
-neighbors, who pushed forward to shake Joshua's hand, and to wish him
-God-speed; while some of the women slyly gave him "a lucky touch."
-
-"One word, dear mother," said Joshua, drawing mother and father into
-the passage, whereat all the neighbors fell away, and turned their
-backs to the door, there being nothing there really worth noticing.
-"Take care of my darling Ellen for me. And Dan too; he may need it."
-
-"They are our children, Joshua, next to you," said Mrs. Marvel.
-
-"You think to yourself, when you are away, Josh," said Mr. Marvel,
-with his finger in a button-hole in Joshua's jacket. "'There is Ellen,
-my wife that is to be; and there is Dan, my dearest friend; and there
-is father and mother with them every day, loving them almost as much
-as they love me and almost as proud of them.' You think that, Josh, and
-you'll think right."
-
-"I am sure of it. Once more, good-by; God bless you all!"
-
-And so, with tender embraces, hearty neighborly farewells, and waving
-of hands, Joshua, with his accordion under his arm, bade farewell to
-his dear old humble home.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIII.
-THE OLD SAILOR SETS MATTERS STRAIGHT.
-
-
-Having made over the whole of his worldly property to Joshua and Ellen
-"for better or worse," it was reasonable that Praiseworthy Meddler
-should have considerable weight in the family council of the Marvels.
-The arrangement whereby Joshua left his home a day before his ship was
-to sail was entirely of the Old Sailor's making; he and he alone was
-responsible for it. Naturally enough, when he had at first proposed
-it, he had met with opposition--especially from Mrs. Marvel, who
-wished Joshua to remain with them until the last moment. But, after a
-private conversation with the Old Sailor, she had yielded to his wish,
-and had even used arguments to induce Joshua's readier compliance.
-That being obtained, the Old Sailor informed them that he had a
-lady-friend at Gravesend, name Mrs. Eliza Friswell, who was a married
-woman herself with a family, and who kept a respectable boarding-house,
-with whom he had arranged that Ellen should stay until the anchor of the
-"Merry Andrew" was weighed; substantiating his statement by a letter
-from Mrs. Eliza Friswell to Mrs. Marvel, in which Mrs. Eliza--as the
-Old Sailor called her--undertook to look after Ellen as "one of her
-own." On the morning of Joshua's departure from Stepney, the Old
-Sailor, dressed in his best, and decorated with a bunch of flowers in
-honor of Ellen, had called for his pretty lass and had taken her away,
-leaving a message that if Joshua did not arrive at Gravesend exactly
-at the appointed time, Ellen had consented to run away with him--to
-wit, Praiseworthy Meddler--and get married. Very proud was the Old
-Sailor of his charge, and very tender and confidential was the nature
-of his communications to her as they made their way to Gravesend. What
-it was that made her blush and laugh and cry in turns--what it was
-that made her serious one moment and glad the next--was known only to
-themselves. Certainly no one was taken into their confidence until
-they arrived at Mrs. Eliza's, when, with a fatherly kiss, he delivered
-Ellen into the charge of that estimable matron. Mrs. Eliza's husband
-was a boatman, rough and strong as a boatman should be: with a great
-red face and great red hands, and with a voice that rumbled from his
-great deep chest with such thunderous power as to render such a thing
-as a whisper physically impossible. He was the owner of a fleet of
-four boats, which had been bought and paid for in shrimps and
-watercresses, or, at all events, with the profits made by Mrs. Eliza
-out of those delicacies, which she purveyed to the easily-satisfied
-amorous British public, with stale bread-and-butter and an imitation
-of tea, at nine pence per head.
-
-Praiseworthy Meddler was fraternizing with Mrs. Eliza's husband when
-Joshua made his appearance. Mrs. Eliza's husband immediately sheered
-off, and the Old Sailor took Joshua in tow. In response to the Old
-Sailor's remark that he was late, Joshua, who felt very despondent,
-said that parting from those at home took a longer time than he had
-expected.
-
-"Ay, my lad," said the Old Sailor gravely, "'tis a hard word, good-by,
-when said to those we love. A long time with Dan, I dare say now?"
-
-"Yes, sir; but it didn't seem long. Time flies faster at some times
-than others."
-
-"Ay; flies fastest when we most want it to hold out. Mother and father
-all right?"
-
-"As right as may be, sir. Crying more now, I know by my own feelings,
-than when I was with them. Kept up for my sake, sir, to give me
-courage." And Joshua turned aside.
-
-"No need to be ashamed of your tears, my lad. Gentle thoughts and a
-gentle heart go together. Some people say 'tis unmanly to cry, but I
-wouldn't give much for the man who never cried, or who wasn't
-sometimes so near it as to feel a gulping in the throat. 'Tis as much
-crying, that is, as if the tears were rolling down his face. I've felt
-like it myself, I'm glad to say."
-
-"You are very kind to me, sir."
-
-"You deserve it, Josh, you deserve it, though I've a doubt that you're
-a bit blind to some things."
-
-"To what things, sir?"
-
-"Gently my lad, gently. Plenty of time to talk."
-
-The gravity of the Old Sailor was contagious, and Joshua felt that the
-good old fellow was about to say something which he deemed of
-importance.
-
-"Where is Ellen, sir?"
-
-"In the house with Mrs. Eliza. She is happy and comfortable, my lad;
-and when you and me have had our bit of talk, we will go in to her.
-She knows that we're together, and that we've got something to speak
-about. As you turned the street, she put her pretty head out of window
-there--you didn't know the house or you'd have seen her do it, like a
-true sailor as you are--and when she saw us together, she put her
-pretty head in again, satisfied. And you left everybody at home all
-right, eh? Grieving naturally to be sure, but otherways all right?"
-
-"Yes, sir."
-
-"Let us walk as we talk," said the Old Sailor, hooking his arm in
-Joshua's, and walking in the direction of the river. "Or we shall talk
-better in a boat, perhaps; Mrs. Eliza's husband shall paddle us about
-the while."
-
-"But I should like to see Ellen just for one minute first.
-
-"To begin your kissing, eh, my lad?" said the Old Sailor, with a
-roguish, laugh. "No, no; you'll have plenty of time for that. I'm in
-command now, and I'll have no mutineering, or I'll put you in irons.
-You'll not like them as well as Ellen's pretty arms." Notwithstanding
-the light nature of the Old Sailor's word's, Joshua detected a
-serious mood beneath them, and with a good grace he walked to the
-landing-place and stepped into the boat which Mrs. Eliza's husband
-held ready.
-
-"So you were a long time with Dan, my lad," remarked the Old Sailor,
-when they were launched. "What did you talk about mostly?"
-
-"The old things, sir,--ourselves mostly?"
-
-"You have no secrets from Dan, my lad?"
-
-"No, sir, none."
-
-"And he has none from you?"
-
-"None, sir."
-
-"And yet I'll be bound," said the Old Sailor, looking steadily at
-Joshua, and compelling Joshua to return his gaze, "that there was
-something which you might have spoken of had you not been restrained
-by a feeling, say, of kindness to Dan. What, now?"
-
-"There was something, sir," replied Joshua, wondering what this
-conversation, so singularly commenced, would lead to.
-
-"Ah!" ejaculated the Old Sailor, rubbing his knees in a satisfied
-manner; "let us hear what that something was."
-
-"You speak so earnestly, sir," said Joshua, inwardly questioning
-himself, "that I must be careful not to conceal any thing from
-you--not that I have any reason nor that I wish to do so, but
-something might escape me. I must first say, though that you must not
-expect me to break any confidence--that supposing Dan had a secret,
-and had imparted it to me, I should not be justified in telling that
-secret to any one else."
-
-"Fair and honest, my lad; what I expected from you."
-
-"Well, then, I have been sorry to find that Mr. Kindred"--
-
-"Minnie's father--yes," interrupted the Old Sailor, with a sharp look
-at Joshua.
-
-"Has been changed to all of us lately, and especially to me; and I
-have been sorry to think that it is because of something which I have
-done that he is so changed."
-
-"You know of nothing, Josh?"
-
-"Nothing--absolutely nothing; and that's what grieves me. If I did
-know, I should be able to justify myself. Why, sir, this morning he
-refused to see me when I went to wish him good-by, and refused to let
-me see Minnie. I did not speak of this thing to Dan because of my love
-for him."
-
-"And because," said the Old Sailor, "supposing that Dan had a secret
-and had imparted it to you, you thought that Dan would be easier in
-his mind--in consequence of his secret--if he did not know of Mr.
-Kindred's strange refusal to see you."
-
-"Just so, sir."
-
-"Could I guess this secret of Dan's?" questioned the Old Sailor.
-"Could an old tar like me, who wouldn't be supposed to know much of
-boys and girls and their whims and whams, venture to guess that this
-secret of our dear friend Dan's was all about a woman?"
-
-Joshua did not reply.
-
-"And such a woman!" continued the Old Sailor. "With eyes as bright as
-the stars, and with hair like a mermaid's. As cunning as a mermaid
-too; not wickedly cunning--no, no; but 'tis in her to be so; and she
-needs weaning from it, like a babe."
-
-Very gentle was the Old Sailor's voice; and greatly did Joshua wonder,
-not at its gentleness, for that was natural to the old man, but at the
-wisdom of the words that came from his lips. All his roughness was
-gone; all his pleasantry was gone; all his simplicity was laid aside
-for the time; and the Old Sailor spoke as if all his life he had been
-studying woman's nature until he was master of its complexities. But
-such deep wisdom often comes from very simplicity.
-
-"Lord love you, my lad!" he said, "how blind you have been! Here has
-been a woman's heart laid bare to you, and you have not suspected it."
-
-Joshua trembled with apprehension. "For Heaven's sake, sir," he
-implored, "speak more plainly!"
-
-"I intend to do so, Joshua; for this is the solemnest time of your
-life. I have considered the matter deeply, and I can see but one right
-thing to do; but I am running ahead too fast. Steady there, steady. As
-I said a time ago, here has been a woman's heart laid bare to you, and
-you have not suspected it. What woman, now? But 'tis not right to ask,
-mayhap."
-
-"Ask me any thing, sir; I will answer truly."
-
-"What woman do you love?"
-
-"Ellen."
-
-"Ellen? And Ellen only?"
-
-"And Ellen only. None other; nor ever shall, if it is given to man to
-know his heart."
-
-"Good! Answered like yourself; answered like the lad I used to see
-looking out on the river that runs to the sea; like the lad my old
-heart warmed to because there was honesty in his face; like the lad
-who has grown to be a man, and who sits afore me now with truth in his
-eyes."
-
-"Thank you for that, sir."
-
-"What woman does this lad, now grown to be a man, love? Ellen--the
-pretty Ellen, the truest-hearted, gentlest-hearted, kindest-hearted,
-dearest lass on all the high seas. What woman does Joshua's friend
-Dan love? That's a question I ask myself. 'Tis easily answered.
-Minnie--Minnie with the mermaid's hair, and with eyes bright as the
-stars. Does Minnie love Dan? Yes; but not as Dan wants her to love
-him. Why? Because there is some one in the way."
-
-"Who, sir?" Joshua was constrained to ask, but dreading the answer.
-
-"She loves Dan's friend Joshua better than she loves Dan. Let that
-friend, who sits afore me now, search his heart and his mind, and let
-him say what he thinks. He knows her nature; has been her friend since
-she was a girl; and, cunning as a woman may be, no woman can be
-cunning enough to hide her love always from the man she loves, though
-she may hide it from all the rest of the world. It happens sometimes
-in a man's life that he may be unconscious of a thing for years
-perhaps, it being present to him all the time, until, sometimes in one
-way, sometimes in another, a sudden light is thrown upon it, and he
-sees in a flash what he has been blind to all his life before."
-
-"You are right, sir," said Joshua sadly. "It has happened to me now. I
-have been blind."
-
-As he sat, sadly looking at the evening shadows reflected in the
-river, every circumstance connected with his intimacy with Minnie came
-to his mind with an interpretation different from that it had borne
-before. Her pretty fancy of the shell, which he had thought of often
-as a childish conceit bore a different meaning now. Tender looks and
-simple acts, which had pleased him at the time, gathered strength, and
-became more than tokens of mere friendship. Child as she was when he
-first went to sea, he recognized now that she had more than the
-strength of a child; that even then, indeed, she was almost a woman.
-When he came back, a man, she had saved his life; and when he thanked
-her for it--surely he could do no less!--she told him that she did not
-want thanks, for the having saved his life would ever be her sweetest
-remembrance. "Little Minnie, little Minnie," he had said, kissing her,
-"thank you for your devotion." He remembered that she trembled, and
-that something like a sob escaped her when he had kissed her. Had he
-done wrong? Was he to blame? All he had done had been innocently done,
-as from a brother to a sister. And her feelings were known to others
-when they had been hidden from him. Minnie's secret was known to her
-father and to Susan. That was the reason why Basil Kindred had
-questioned him so strangely, and had told him the story of his life.
-Words uttered by Basil, which had borne no direct signification when
-they were spoken, came to him now with startling vividness. "Young men
-are often thoughtless in their actions," Basil had said; "they do not
-know the depth and earnestness of some womanly natures." The
-revelation that had come to him served also to account for Susan's
-singular conduct that very morning.
-
-"So," he thought; "they believe I have been playing with Minnie's
-feelings; and both of them have condemned me. And I at the same time
-engaged to Ellen! It is too dreadful to think of. What can I do? Oh,
-what can I do?"
-
-The unspoken words rended him to the soul; he was enveloped in a
-despairing darkness. But a greater terror than all fell upon him when
-he thought of Dan. In such a momentous crisis as that through which
-Joshua's mind was passing, nothing of the past is unremembered. Words
-which otherwise are borne in mind only by their sense come back as if
-they were just being, uttered. When Dan had imparted to Joshua the
-secret of his love for Minnie, he had said, "A great hope, shadowed by
-a great fear, has entered my soul; a hope which, fulfilled, would make
-earth heaven for me. Is it too precious a thing to pray for? It seems
-so to me. I tremble as I think of it. But if it is not to be, I hope I
-shall soon die." And Joshua heard again that cry from Dan's soul,
-almost word for word. The sacred nature of the love existing between
-Dan and Joshua needs to be understood to realize the terrible fear
-that smote Joshua at the present time. If Dan should ever come to
-believe him false, he would not wish to live: for the salt would have
-gone out of his life forever.
-
-For full a quarter of an hour Joshua was wrapped in painful thought;
-and the Old Sailor had not disturbed him. But now, as he raised his
-tearful eyes to the Old Sailor's face, the Old Sailor laid his hand
-gently upon Joshua's knee, and said,--
-
-"Well, Joshua, and how do you make it out?"
-
-"As bad as it well can be, sir. This is the hardest stroke I have ever
-had. I do not think that even you can understand how hard it is for
-me."
-
-"Because of Dan?"
-
-"Because of Dan, sir. I have no need to hide Dan's secret from you
-now--you know it; but if Dan should be disappointed in his love for
-Minnie, I don't know what effect it would have upon him. All this is
-very terrible. I don't need to assure you, sir, that I have been
-entirely blameless, and that I have never treated Minnie in any way
-but that of an honored sister."
-
-"You do not, my lad," said the Old Sailor, with an evident brightening
-up in his manner; "I am satisfied of that. But what do we do when a
-storm comes? Do we run and bury our heads in our hammocks, or do we
-stand up like men to meet it and battle with it?--as we are going to
-meet this storm, which has come upon us unaware, and from no fault of
-our'n. Like men, Josh; we're going to meet it like men. I am looking
-it straight in the face. No wonder it made you stagger when it come
-upon you sudden. It set my old head a-thinking when I found it
-out--though it only come upon me by degrees, and after a deal of
-watching. Just you think a bit now, Josh, and tell me if you don't see
-any way of getting the ship off the rocks."
-
-"I can see no way, sir," said Joshua, after a little anxious
-pondering; "all is dark around me."
-
-The Old Sailor laughed a quiet little laugh.
-
-"Lord, Lord how blind these youngsters are! Here's a sailor that's
-lost his reckoning, and running the danger of seeing his ship break up
-before his eyes; and all the while there's a smooth-water bay close
-alongside him, and a friendly craft waiting to give him a hand."
-
-"Where is that bay, sir?"
-
-"Steady, my lad, steady. Let's see what we've got to do. Firstly, our
-duty to every body, right round. Next, to make two persons, who ought
-to know better, ashamed of themselves for misjudging of us. Next, to
-make every thing so snug that our friend Dan sha'n't suffer from any
-fault of our'n. Next, to teach a gentle lesson to a mermaid of a girl
-who's got a notion in her head that's no business to be there, but who
-otherways is as good as gold. It's a riddle, my lad, and I've got the
-key to it in my pocket."
-
-"May I see it, sir?"
-
-"You may, and shall, Josh," said the Old Sailor, with a sly chuckle.
-"It was to give you the key, that I brought you out here to talk."
-
-And the Old Sailor took from his breast his blue-cotton
-pocket-handkerchief, upon which was imprinted the twelve-hundred-ton
-ship, with all its sails set to a favorable breeze. There was a knot
-in the handkerchief; which the Old Sailor undid with his teeth,
-keeping his eyes fixed upon Joshua's face all the while. The knot
-being untied, the Old Sailor took from the handkerchief a very small
-parcel in silver paper, and handed it to Joshua in perfect silence.
-
-Joshua opened the silver paper, and found in it a wedding-ring.
-
-He looked at the tiny symbol with a beating heart, and a glimmering of
-the Old Sailor's meaning dawned upon his mind.
-
-"That's the key, my lad," said the Old Sailor, with a triumphant
-expression on his honest, weather-beaten face; "that's the key to it
-all. You put that ring upon pretty Ellen's finger to-morrow morning
-early, and what happens? Why, you spend your honeymoon here in
-Gravesend with your little wife; and when the 'Merry Andrew' sets
-sail,--which won't be to-morrow, Josh; I've found that out,--Ellen
-goes back to Stepney with that pretty bit of gold on her finger. Says
-she, 'I'm married--married to Joshua.' 'Married' says they, all but
-one of 'em; 'married!' And surprised they are, all but one of 'em.
-'Who made you do it?' says they, all but one of 'em. 'Mr. Meddler,'
-says she; 'Mr. Meddler made me do it. He's a hard-hearted old shark,
-and he made me do it. But I'm not sorry for it,' says she; 'I'm glad
-of it. And I'd do it over again to-morrow; for I've got a true-hearted
-man for a husband, and all I've got to do is to pray that he may come
-back safe to me and to all of us.' With that they all fall a-kissing
-one another, which is but right under the circumstances. What happens
-then? Says Susan, 'I was mistaken; Joshua is as he always was.' Says
-Mr. Kindred, 'Minnie is safe. God bless Joshua for doing what he has
-done.' Says Minnie to herself, 'It's no use my loving a married man.
-I've been a foolish girl, and what I've got to do is to love Joshua
-like a brother, as he has always loved me--like brother and sister;
-that's all we can ever be to one another.' Then she turns to Dan, and
-loves that tender-hearted friend,--who ought to have been a man six
-foot high, with his limbs as sound as our'n,--and loves him as he
-ought to be loved. And I shouldn't wonder, my lad, that when you come
-home from this trip, Dan will say to you, 'Here is my wife, Jo, my own
-dear Minnie; and we're as happy as the day is long.' The consequence
-of all of which is, that every thing turns out as it ought to turn
-out, and as we all want it to turn out."
-
-The Old Sailor drew a long breath after this peroration, and dabbed
-his face in a manner expressive of a high state of exultation and
-excitement. Joshua was no less moved. He toyed with the wedding-ring
-as gently and affectionately as if it were already on Ellen's finger.
-Truly, to him it was more than a piece of plain gold; it was a symbol
-of love. If it had been a precious life, he could not have handled it
-more tenderly. Tears came into his eyes as he looked at it, and his
-heart beat more strongly with love for Ellen as he pressed the ring to
-his lips. At which action the Old Sailor gave his knee a great slap;
-and falling back, in the excitement of his triumph, upon Mrs. Eliza's
-husband, nearly upset a boat for the first and only time in his life.
-
-"And that is the reason, sir," said Joshua, "that you wished me to
-spend my last day at Gravesend with Ellen?"
-
-"That is the reason, my lad, and no other."
-
-"But how did you find all this out?"
-
-"The fact of it is, my lad," replied the most unsuspicious and
-guileless old tar that ever crossed salt water, "I put this and that
-together. I put this and that together," he repeated with an air of
-amazing cunning. "It came first in a simple way. When you were ill, I
-went one day to see Minnie's father; and when I went into his room, I
-found that he was out. Minnie was there, though: but she didn't see
-me. She was sitting on the ground by her father's bed, with a shell at
-her ear, and was singing some words softly to herself; and I heard her
-repeat your name, Joshua, over and over again. It might have been a
-babe singing, her voice was so low and sweet. But I didn't like to
-hear it, for all that; and from that time, my lad, I began to watch,
-and to put this and that together. Lord love you if you hadn't been so
-wrapped up with Ellen, you would have found it out yourself soon
-enough. You see, if Minnie had been a little girl, that shell and her
-singing wouldn't have mattered; but being a woman, it did."
-
-"And Ellen, sir. Have you told her what you have told me?"
-
-"Just as much as wouldn't wound her sensitive heart, the dear lass.
-Not a word about Minnie. I've put it more as if it was your doing and
-my wish, being an unreasonable old shark, you know, and because I had
-a right to have my own unreasonable way. I told her I'd set my heart
-on it, and so had you."
-
-"And her answer?"
-
-"That pretty little lass says, 'If Joshua, that I love dearer
-than all the world'--them's her very words, 'dearer than all the
-world'--'wishes me to marry him down here at Gravesend, it will be my
-pride and my joy to do as he wishes, now and always.' Something else
-she says too. But before I tell you what that something else was, let
-me know what you think about it, Josh."
-
-"What can I think, sir, after what you have told me, but that I
-believe it is the best and only way to set all matters straight? It is
-a task both of love and duty--love to Ellen, duty to Dan and Minnie.
-Yet I have one regret. I have often pictured in my mind what a
-proud day our wedding-day would be to mother,"--his voice faltered
-here,--"and how her dear face would have brightened when our hands
-were joined!"
-
-"That's the very something else that Ellen says to me, Josh," said the
-Old Sailor, beaming with satisfaction. "Says she, 'I should like to
-have Josh's mother at the wedding.' Says I, 'My dear, Josh's mother
-_will_ be at the wedding.'"
-
-"No!" exclaimed Joshua with a sudden start of surprise.
-
-"Yes," cried the Old Sailor dabbing his face gleefully. "Says I, 'My
-dear Josh's mother _will_ be at the wedding. She will come down to
-Gravesend to-morrow morning early, and will go back quietly in the
-afternoon.' And when Ellen tells 'em at home all about it, mother will
-be the only one among 'em who won't be surprised."
-
-"Enough said, sir," said Joshua, his heart filled with wondering
-happiness. "I don't know what I have done to deserve such friends as
-I've got. Let us get back to Ellen."
-
-With that, Mrs. Eliza's husband, who had behaved more like a machine
-than a man during the long interview, pulled briskly to shore.
-
-It was dusk when they walked along the street where Mrs. Eliza lived;
-but Joshua saw Ellen standing at the door waiting for them. He
-hastened to her eagerly, and with his arm around her waist, drew her
-away from the little light that was left. She was trembling; but his
-strong arm supported her.
-
-"So you are to be my little wife to-morrow?" he said in a voice of
-exceeding tenderness.
-
-She clung closer to him, and hiding her face, although it was dark,
-answered him in the softest of soft whispers, "Yes, if you are
-satisfied that it shall be so."
-
-"It will be for the best, darling," he whispered, embracing her.
-
-How proud he was of her! and what a memorable night they passed with
-the Old Sailor! The best room in the house had been brightened up for
-them to have tea in; and after tea, Joshua and Ellen strolled by the
-waterside for an hour, which seemed about five minutes long, talking
-as lovers have talked since the Creation. Meanwhile, the Old Sailor
-stood at the door, smoking his pipe with infinite satisfaction at the
-thought of having set all matters straight. While he thus stood, a man
-approached with the evident intention of making an inquiry of him; but
-catching sight of the Old Sailor's face, the man uttered a hasty
-exclamation and abruptly crossed the road, making a pretence of being
-intoxicated. It was but a pretence, but it deceived the Old Sailor,
-who set it down in his mind that the man was a sailor on the spree.
-"Going to join the 'Merry Andrew' to-morrow, perhaps," he thought;
-"and fuddling himself, as most of 'em do the first and last nights
-ashore. A rare old swiller is Jack! Never knows when he has had
-enough. Must always take another drop."
-
-The man's thoughts were of a different kind. When he had turned the
-corner of the street, he walked more leisurely, and drew such a breath
-as one draws when he has escaped a danger. His first muttered words
-were "He didn't see me;" his next, "What the devil brings him here?"
-That his mind was disturbed by the sight of the Old Sailor was evident
-from his manner; and it was evident also, by the wary looks he cast
-about him, that he was bent already on no idle mission and needed
-nothing fresh to occupy him. "A good job it was dark," he muttered,
-directing his steps to the waterside; "if he had seen me, he would
-have been sure to tell Marvel, and it might have given rise to
-suspicion. Where is that dog of a Lascar, and what the devil does he
-mean by keeping me waiting?" The words were scarcely uttered when his
-face grew deadly white, and an ugly twitching came about the corners
-of his lips at what he saw before him. It was merely a man and
-woman--evidently lovers--who were walking slowly along, in earnest
-conversation. He was about to follow them, when his arm was touched by
-a new-comer, in a sailor's dress.
-
-"Here I am, master," said the new-comer.
-
-"See there, you dog!" exclaimed Solomon Fewster, pointing to the
-lovers. "See there! What brings her here?"
-
-The Lascar looked after them, shading his eyes with his hand, and
-shrugged his shoulders. "Joshua Marvel and Ellen Taylor!" he said,
-with a careless laugh. "Doing a little sweethearting on the sly. If
-you had the chance, you'd do the same yourself. See, they're turning
-back this way; let us get out of sight."
-
-They stood aside, and as the lovers passed, heedful of nothing,
-conscious of nothing, but their own great happiness, their faces met,
-and a kiss passed between them. In his torment of jealousy, Solomon
-Fewster grasped the Lascar's shoulder so tightly as to make the man
-wince. The dog shook himself free from his master, and said, "Well,
-he'll be away soon, and you'll have the pretty Ellen all to yourself.
-Come, now; I don't want to stop here all night. Let us say what we've
-got to say, and be done with it."
-
-Solomon Fewster walked away a few steps to recover his composure, and
-when he had mastered his agitation, returned to the Lascar.
-
-"I shipped this morning, through an agent," said the Lascar; "here are
-my papers."
-
-"It is too dark for me to see them; I must take your word that you
-have done what you say."
-
-"You have taken my word before, master, and you have found me
-faithful. You keep your part of the bargain; I shall keep mine. It is
-my interest to do so."
-
-"Yes, your interest," said Solomon Fewster, with somewhat of a bitter
-emphasis. "You have cost me enough, you dog."
-
-Notwithstanding that their positions of master and dog might have been
-appropriately reversed, the old fiction was kept up between them, with
-insolent arrogance on one side, and with mock humility on the other.
-Neither of them deceived the other.
-
-"I might have cost you more, master," replied the Lascar; "but go on."
-
-"Let us see then, if we are agreed upon the position Of matters, and
-if we understand one another. When a certain thing happened last
-Christmas, which nearly cost a whelp his life, you thought it
-necessary for your safety"--
-
-"We thought it necessary for our safety," corrected the Lascar.
-
-"To take yourself off somewhere, so as not to be seen, and therefore
-not suspected. Out of sight out of mind. In accordance with that
-understanding you went to a certain watering-place, and lived at my
-expense until you got into a drunken quarrel with your drunken
-mates, in which one of them received a cut across the face. The same
-night--being within a week of the present time--you thought it
-advisable to leave that district, and you accordingly did so, coming
-down here to Gravesend, and apprising me that you were in danger of
-arrest and in want of money."
-
-"You talk like a book," said the admiring Lascar, with a laugh.
-
-"I came down to see you, and to advise you"--
-
-"Taking such an interest in me, master!" interrupted the Lascar, with
-another and a louder laugh.
-
-"And I told you that as in England a man who is too free with his
-knife is likely to be deprived of his liberty for a longer time than
-he would probably consider pleasant, the best thing you could do--the
-police being on the lookout for you--would be to join a ship bound for
-a distant port, and so get clear of danger. Is that fairly stated?"
-
-"Pretty fairly for you, master. It is for me to say, that so long as I
-am out of danger your safety is secured. But that's a matter, of
-course, that you don't think much of."
-
-"It happening, as it does not often happen with such dogs as you,"
-continued Solomon Fewster, taking no other notice of the Lascar's
-taunt than was indicated by a contemptuous emphasis on the word
-"dogs," "that you were for once open to reason, you agreed with me
-that it would be best for you to get out of the country. As luck would
-have it, Joshua Marvel's ship, the 'Merry Andrew,' was shortly to
-start for New South Wales, and as part of the crew was to be engaged
-at Gravesend, where you were skulking about, you set your mind very
-strangely upon going in the same ship with the whelp, and according to
-your own statement, have accomplished your desire to-day."
-
-"I didn't find it a very difficult thing, master. Sailors are none so
-plentiful. Go on."
-
-"When I found that you were determined to go in Joshua Marvel's ship,
-I bearing in mind that you have been as faithful as it is in the
-nature of such a dog as you to be, told you that the night before the
-ship sails, I would come down and give you a few necessaries which you
-said you required."
-
-"Such as twenty-five pounds in gold," said the Lascar.
-
-"Such as twenty-five pounds in gold," repeated Solomon Fewster, taking
-some packets from his pocket.
-
-"Such as a six-bladed knife."
-
-"Such as a six-bladed knife."
-
-"Such as another knife with one blade."
-
-"Such as another knife with one blade."
-
-"Such as a silver watch and a silver chain."
-
-"Such as a silver watch and a silver chain."
-
-"Bah!" exclaimed the Lascar, in a voice of intense scorn, as he
-received the articles, one after another. "Look at the sky, master."
-
-It was intensely dark; the clouds were black, there was no moon, and
-not a star was discernible. Solomon Fewster looked up, and said,
-"Well?"
-
-"What can you see, master?"
-
-"Nothing."
-
-"Look at me"--he had walked away a few paces. "Can you see me?"
-
-"I can see your form."
-
-"Not my face, nor my eyes?"
-
-"No, you dog!" answered Solomon Fewster hotly, for the Lascar's voice
-was contemptuously insolent.
-
-"Bah! you are worse than I am. Too free with my knife, am I? I wonder
-whether you would be too free with your knife--in the dark? In the
-light I know you wouldn't be. You wouldn't have the pluck to use it.
-Look you, master: the first part of what you said was pretty well as
-things happened; but the last part--Well, you and me know all about
-that. And yet, although we're in the dark, and can't see each other's
-face, nor each other's eyes, you haven't pluck enough to tell the
-truth; you haven't pluck enough to say even to me, here in the dark,
-with no one by, that when I found that the 'Merry Andrew' was
-going to sea. I said to you, What a fine thing it would be for me to
-go in the same ship as Joshua Marvel, and to take advantage of any
-thing that might happen to do him a good turn and that then you
-mentioned--quite accidentally, of course--that if any thing should
-happen to him through me, you would give me fifty pounds if the 'Merry
-Andrew' came home without Joshua Marvel. You haven't pluck enough to
-say that then I said, 'Done!' and done it was; but that I--knowing
-you, master--made a point of having something in earnest of the
-bargain--such as twenty-five pounds in gold; such as a six-bladed
-knife; such as another knife with one blade; such as a silver watch
-and chain. Bah! If it wasn't that I was such a cursed fool when my
-blood is up, that I don't know what I do, and that, because of that,
-it is safer for me to leave the country than to remain in it, I would
-stop and feed upon you--I would, by God!--and worry the heart out of
-such a coward."
-
-"You've been drinking," said Solomon Fewster, with difficulty
-suppressing his anger.
-
-"What if I have? I know what I am saying well enough. I have had too
-much of your airs of superiority, and of your lies and your acting.
-Why, do you think that I would ever have done your dirty work, if it
-hadn't served my purpose? Do you think that if I hadn't sworn an oath,
-and marked it with my blood, to be revenged upon that damned upstart,
-Joshua Marvel, for what he did to me, I would go in his ship? Look
-you! I will do my share of the work, never fear, master; but I would
-have done it for next to nothing, if you were a man instead of a
-sneak!"
-
-"You dog!" cried Solomon Fewster, in an uncontrollable burst of
-passion. "You have my money, my knives, and my watch upon you at this
-moment. I have half a mind to give you into custody for robbing me."
-
-An exclamation of anger escaped the Lascar, and Solomon Fewster cursed
-himself inwardly for his injudiciousness the moment the words had
-passed his lips. A long silence followed, a silence lengthened by
-Solomon Fewster's fears; for he knew that he was in the Lascar's
-power, and could not consider himself safe while his dog was in the
-country.
-
-"I didn't mean that," he said, with an awkward effort at conciliation;
-"but you were wrong to provoke me."
-
-The Lascar did not reply, and Solomon Fewster's alarm increased every
-moment. "Why don't you speak?" he asked.
-
-"I've been thinking, master," then said the Lascar with a quiet
-laugh--"I've been thinking that a man isn't safe with such a sneak as
-you, and I've made up my mind."
-
-"To what?"
-
-"To this; and if you don't do it, I'll go straight to Joshua Marvel
-and his pretty Ellen, and open their eyes to what you are."
-
-"And ruin yourself," said Solomon Fewster, trembling in every limb
-like the coward he was.
-
-"And ruin myself," said the Lascar composedly, "and you along with
-me."
-
-"You do not know what you are saying."
-
-"You shall see," said the Lascar, moving slowly away.
-
-"Stop! What is it you want me to do?"
-
-"If the 'Merry Andrew' returns without Joshua Marvel, and I, having
-done my work, come to you for my wages, it isn't unlikely that you'll
-hatch some charge against me which I sha'n't be able to face, for you
-are rich and I am poor. I will prevent this. You shall come with me
-now to my lodging-house, and you shall scratch upon the inside of my
-watch, 'From Solomon Fewster to his Lascar friend,' and you shall give
-me a paper saying as how you made me a present of the knives and the
-money because I have earned them. This is what I have made up my mind
-to, and what I intend to have done, as sure as there is a sky above
-us. What's more, I'm not going to have any palaver about it. If you
-don't follow me to my lodgings, where I am going this very minute,
-I'll peach upon you, by God!"
-
-Without another word, he walked towards the town; and Salomon Fewster,
-in a tumult of fear and vain passion, followed him to his lodging, and
-unwillingly gave him his bond. That being done, the Lascar repeated
-that he might be depended upon for fulfilling his task; and Solomon
-Fewster took his leave with the consciousness that the basest of dogs
-considered himself superior to the master who used him.
-
-
-Early the following morning Mrs. Marvel came down to Gravesend, and
-all preparations having been made by the Old Sailor, Joshua and Ellen
-were married. It was the quietest and happiest of weddings. There were
-but two guests--Mrs. Eliza, in a blaze of red ribbons, and Mrs.
-Eliza's husband, whose futile efforts to speak in whispers were the
-only evidences to Joshua and Ellen that the events of the morning were
-real. Every thing but that irrepressible voice was so hushed and
-subdued, that it seemed to belong more to a dream than any thing else.
-But it was a happy dream, marred by no cloud, made bright by perfect
-love. There was no happier person in the party than Mrs. Marvel.
-
-"Now you are truly my daughter," she whispered to Ellen, "and really
-belong to me."
-
-"I can't believe that I am awake, mother," said Joshua to Mrs. Marvel,
-as they two stood a little apart from the others; "yesterday I had no
-thought of this. I wonder if Dan is thinking of me! When will you tell
-him?"
-
-"None of them will know, dear, until Ellen comes back, and that won't
-be until your ship is gone. Mr. Meddler says it will not sail for two
-days, so your honeymoon will be longer than you expected."
-
-"And father! how surprised he will be!"
-
-"He will approve, my dear, when I tell him all."
-
-When she told him all! That means, thought Joshua, when she tells him
-about Minnie. But he said nothing aloud in answer. Minnie was in both
-his and his mother's thoughts, but neither of them mentioned her name.
-
-"Look at her, Josh," said Mrs. Marvel, turning with affectionate pride
-to where Ellen stood, hanging tearfully upon the Old Sailor's arm; "no
-man ever had a greater treasure."
-
-Joshua, gazing at the modest figure of his dear little woman, thought
-of the comparison he had once drawn between Ellen and Minnie. "Minnie
-is like the sea; Ellen like a peaceful lake." Every thing about
-her--her dress, her trustful face, the calm light in her eyes--was
-suggestive of peaceful love, a haven of refuge from the storms of
-life. She turned to him, and he hurried to her side, and took her arm
-on his.
-
-"Darling," he whispered, "it seems too wonderful to be real. I am
-afraid that I shall wake up presently, and find that it is all a
-dream."
-
-Thank God, that while this world of ours is pulsing with mean
-ambitions and unworthy strivings, with heartless pleasures and vicious
-desires, flowers of circumstance such as this bloom sometimes in the
-lives of the poorest among us.
-
-Dinner was taken in Mrs. Eliza's private parlor which, abounded in
-family relics of great price, among which were especially conspicuous
-two brown-stone mandarins, who wagged their heads upon the
-mantle-shelf; two large pieces of white coral under glass shades; some
-stuffed parrots similarly protected from the ravages of time; and an
-impossible castle made with small shells. It was April weather with
-all the company, and smiles and tears alternately chased one another.
-Mrs. Eliza's husband proposed the toast of "The new-married couple,"
-but, attempting to make a speech, could only get out the words, "And
-may they ever," which he repeated four or five times, without being
-able to explain himself. However, the toast was drunk not the less
-cordially, Mrs. Eliza's husband and the Old Sailor giving three times
-three in hearty sailor fashion. Then, it being nearly time for Mrs.
-Marvel to go back to Stepney, the Old Sailor rose, glass in hand, and
-said,--
-
-"Mrs. Marvel, lady, if you was my own mother, my dear, which you
-couldn't be, seeing that I am old enough to be your father, but if you
-was my own mother, I couldn't honor you more. Some women are sent into
-the world expressly to be mothers; you're one of 'em, and a noble one
-you are, and a credit to Britannia. Here's may Josh and his lass ever
-be a pride to your heart, lady, as they have ever been, and may Josh
-be a skipper before he's thirty! And if a rusty old sailor like me,
-lady, can ever serve you, my dear, I shall be proud to be commanded by
-such a commander."
-
-With that he drained his glass, and turning it upside down, took Mrs.
-Marvel's hand and kissed it, like the gallant knight he was. Amid
-tears and embraces and blessings, Mrs. Marvel took her departure,
-escorted by the Old Sailor; and the lovers were left to their quiet
-honeymoon. The "Merry Andrew" did not sail until two days afterwards,
-as the Old Sailor had said. All too swiftly flew by the hours in that
-brief time; and Joshua and Ellen found it harder to part than they had
-ever done before.
-
-"I am pledged to you forever, darling," said Joshua, as they stood
-together during the last few minutes.
-
-"And I to you, dear."
-
-"I want a curl, Ellen; not to remind me of you, but to have something
-of you always near me."
-
-She cut off one of her brown curls, and he kissed her and it, and
-placed it in the Bible Dan had given him.
-
-"How shall I count the days, darling! But I shall see you through all
-my work. It is time for me to go. My undying faithful love for you. My
-undying faithful love for Dan. And now, put your arms about my neck,
-and say 'God bless you, and bring you safely back!'"
-
-"God bless you, and bring you safely back, my dear, my heart's
-treasure!"
-
-Her strength failed her here, and she was sinking to the ground.
-
-"Take her, sir," said Joshua to the Old Sailor, who was standing a
-little apart. "May Heaven reward you for all your kindness!" He
-stooped and kissed her once more, and whispering, "I leave my heart
-behind me," hurried with uneven steps to the boat in waiting for him.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIV.
-FALSE FRIEND OR TRUE?
-
-
-"I wish Ellen was at home," said Dan to himself, as he sat alone in
-the parlor which served as his training-room; "the house is quite
-lonely without her." Joshua had been gone from Stepney for four days,
-and, knowing how Dan would miss Ellen, Mrs. Marvel had insisted that
-he should stop at her house during that time. "There will be no one to
-attend to you, my dear," Mrs. Marvel had said to him; "Mr. Kindred is
-ill, and Minnie and Susan are fully employed waiting upon him." Dan
-acknowledged the superior claims of Mr. Kindred on Minnie's and
-Susan's attention, and consented to stop at Mrs. Marvel's house until
-Ellen returned. Now that Joshua was gone, however, he could not help
-thinking it strange that Minnie had not found time to run in and see
-him, if only for two or three minutes. He expressed this to Mrs.
-Marvel, who replied that Mr. Kindred was suffering much, she believed,
-and did not like Minnie to be away from him, loving her so dearly.
-"But it will be all right, my dear, when Ellen comes back," she said,
-"she will be able to assist the girls in their nursing." The
-uneasiness which Dan would have otherwise experienced at not seeing
-Minnie was allayed by the knowledge that she was doing her duty. Still
-he was glad when the morning came upon which Ellen was to return; for
-patient as he was, he was hungering to see Minnie. And now at last he
-was at home in his own little parlor, waiting almost impatiently for
-Ellen. He heard a sound in the passage, and he raised his hand in a
-listening attitude. "Ellen? No; Susan." The door opened, and Susan
-entered. Accustomed as he was to Susan's strange manner and to the
-alterations in it--morose one day and remorsefully affectionate the
-next--he had never seen her as as he saw her now. Her face was pinched
-as with some great agony, her hands wandered restlessly about her
-dress and over one another, her eyes dilated as he remembered them in
-the old days when she was tormented by the fear that terrible shapes
-were stealing upon her unaware. Yet, notwithstanding these distressing
-symptoms of a mind disturbed to its very uttermost, there was
-something still more painful in her appearance. This was the effort to
-appear calm and self-possessed, evidenced in the attempts she made to
-keep her hands still and her eyes from wandering around. But she could
-not bring color to her white face, nor composure to her quivering
-lips. No nerves are more difficult to master than those which directly
-affect the mouth, and many a hard-grained strong-minded man has
-betrayed himself by a twitching of his lips, which he has found it
-impossible to control. Dan had not seen Susan for more than a week,
-and he was appalled at the change in her. His first thought was of
-Minnie.
-
-"What has happened, Susan?" he cried. "Minnie is not ill?"
-
-He betrayed himself in the tone of anguish in which he made the
-inquiry. Susan twisted her fingers so tightly together that the blood
-left them, but she felt no pain.
-
-"Why should Minnie be ill?" she asked. "You have not seen her, then?"
-
-"Thank God!" Dan thought to himself; "it is not anxiety for Minnie
-that has changed her so."
-
-"And her father, Susan?" he said aloud, more softly.
-
-"Her father!" exclaimed Susan, approaching Dan so that he could take
-her hand; it was like ice. "Basil! He is stricken almost to death. I
-don't know what to do; and I am pledged, miserable woman that I am--I
-am pledged not to speak; not to divulge what I know!"
-
-"Poor Susey!" said Dan soothingly, and in a tone of earnest sympathy,
-thinking that Susan's last words referred to what the doctor had told
-him of Basil's heart-disease. "Poor Mr. Kindred! I am grieved to the
-soul to hear it."
-
-She strove to free her hand from his grasp; but he retained it.
-
-"Tell me about Minnie, Susey," he implored. "Ah, if you knew how I am
-yearning to see her--how I am yearning to console her!"
-
-At this appeal, so strong a trembling took possession of her, that her
-words, to any but the acutest sense, would not have been
-distinguishable.
-
-"You, Dan!" she said, tightening her grasp upon his hand. "You
-yearning to see her! You yearning to console her! Why?"
-
-"Susey, you will help me when I tell you. You will let me see her when
-I tell you. I love her!"
-
-"My God!"
-
-A deathlike silence followed, and Dan was almost frightened to break
-it, but he was constrained by his fears to speak.
-
-"There is a hidden meaning in your words, Susan," he said in hushed
-tones, "that I cannot fathom. Give me some clew, if you have any love
-for me."
-
-"I can give you none," she answered hurriedly, "until I am released
-from my pledge. Do not ask me any thing else--I don't think I am
-conscious of what I am saying. I will go up to Basil--to Mr.
-Kindred--and beg of him to see you. What is that?"
-
-It was merely a knock at the street-door; but in Susan's nervous
-condition the sound was sufficient to cause her to start in alarm from
-Dan's side.
-
-"Only a knock at the door, Susey. You have overtasked yourself, my
-dear, with nursing."
-
-Susan hastened to the street-door, and Dan heard a voice ask if Mr.
-Basil Kindred lived there. "Yes," answered Susan. "Here is a letter
-for him; is it right?" "Quite right." And taking the letter from the
-messenger, Susan went up stairs to Basil Kindred's room. She had left
-the street-door open, and before another minute had passed, sunshine
-entered the house--sunshine, in the person of Ellen, who, radiant with
-joy, ran into the house and into the parlor, and clasping Dan round
-the neck, called him by the dearest of names, and kissed him again and
-again. What a bright flower she was! What a lovely flower she was!
-What nameless beauty had passed into her face, that caused Dan to
-thrill with pride that she was his sister, and caused him to wonder at
-the same time what change it was that had come over her and added to
-her loveliness? The sombre aspect of the room was gone; the chill, the
-fear, the dread of Susan's meaning was gone; the terror that had no
-reason in it, as far as he could see, was gone. For sunshine had
-entered the house.
-
-"O my dear, dear Dan!" she cried, shedding tears in the fulness of her
-joy. "O my darling, darling brother! I am so happy to be with you
-again!"
-
-She kissed his face a dozen times again, and hid hers on his neck, and
-kissed that too, until from Dan's heart, infected by her happiness,
-every particle of fear planted there by Susan's manner had fled.
-Truly, she was sunshine--the best, the dearest, the warmest.
-
-"My dear, dear Ellen!" said Dan, returning her affectionate embrace,
-"how happy I am that you are back! I have been thinking how lonely the
-house is without you. But"--holding her face between his hands and
-looking at it, bright and blushing and beautiful--"you have grown
-positively lovely. What have you been doing with yourself these last
-four days?"
-
-What had she been doing with herself? She laughed softly at the
-question, then ran and shut the door, and came back and sat on the
-floor at his feet, tucking up her dress to save it from the dust.
-She was in such a flutter even then--taking Dan's hand and fondling
-it--that he waited to speak until she was more composed. Presently she
-grew quieter, and resting her head on his knees, said,--
-
-"Now, Dan, I am quiet. Ask me questions."
-
-"To commence, then, when did you come back?"
-
-"This very minute."
-
-"Who brought you back?"
-
-"Mr. Meddler."
-
-"The dear old friend! Why didn't he come in to see me?"
-
-"For reasons. He said that we had best be left alone, so that we might
-chat. He is coming to see you to-night."
-
-"When did Joshua's ship go away?"
-
-"The day before yesterday."
-
-"Why, you little puss, you've been playing truant!"
-
-"Mr. Meddler persuaded me; and yesterday Mr. Meddler and Mrs. Eliza
-and me went for a ride in the country."
-
-"What a grand young lady you've got to be! And Jo! What about Jo?"
-
-She nestled to him more caressingly; and he, passing his hand over her
-face, drew it away, with tears upon it.
-
-"Crying, Nell?
-
-"For happiness, Dan--for very happiness, my dear! What about Jo, you
-ask. I will speak his exact words--almost his last, dear--'My undying
-faithful love for Dan.'"
-
-"Dear Jo! my dear, dearest brother!"
-
-"That was not all he said, Dan; we were speaking of you all the
-day--you were never out of our thoughts, never out of his, I am sure.
-He is the dearest friend, the truest friend, the most faithful, the
-most constant, that happy man or woman ever had!"
-
-"He is all that you say, dear Ellen, and I thank Heaven for giving him
-to us."
-
-"Any more questions, Dan?"
-
-"No; I can't think of any."
-
-"Then I must tell you something without being asked," said Ellen: "I
-am the happiest woman in the world."
-
-She arose, and standing at the back of his chair, clasped him round
-the neck, folding her hands one in the other, so that he should not
-see her wedding-ring. Then she inclined her lips to his ear, and was
-about to whisper the precious secret which made her the happiest woman
-in the world, when an agonized scream rang through the house. With
-affrighted looks they turned to each other for an explanation.
-
-"It is Susan," said Dan, all his fears returning. "I have not had time
-to tell you, Ellen, but her manner just now frightened me. For
-Heaven's sake assist me up stairs!"
-
-With his crutch under one arm, and his other round Ellen's neck, he
-went to Basil Kindred's room, and, pushing open the door, entered.
-Basil Kindred was sitting motionless in his chair, before a table on
-which were writing-materials; his head was thrown back as if he were
-asleep; one hand was on his heart, and the other, from which a letter
-had fallen was hanging listlessly down. And kneeling by his side was
-Susan, with a look of horror on her white face. But Minnie where was
-Minnie? No one had gone out of the house; if she had come down stairs,
-Dan must have heard her. He sank into a chair and gazed about him
-vacantly. It was not that the power of thought had left him, but that
-he was afraid to think. Susan, rocking herself to and fro, her face
-turned away, had taken no notice of their entrance.
-
-"Ask her where Minnie is," said Dan to Ellen. He had tried to utter
-the words two or three times, but his throat was parched; and now his
-voice sounded so strange to him, that he wondered if he or some one
-else had spoken.
-
-"Susan!" said Ellen, placing her hand on Susan's shoulder. "Susan,
-where is Minnie?"
-
-But Susan did not heed her; and Ellen raising her eyes from Susan's
-face to that of Basil Kindred, retreated appalled to Dan's side. It
-looked like the face of one to whom death had come suddenly; perfectly
-peaceful, but terrible to see. Still she found strength to whisper to
-Dan, "Be strong, my dear, be strong. Shall I run and fetch mother?"
-
-"Mother!" echoed Dan, with the same doubt upon him as to whether he or
-some one else were speaking. "Mother! Oh! Mrs. Marvel you, mean Jo's
-mother."
-
-"Yes, dear, Jo's mother and ours. Shall I run and fetch her?"
-
-"No, not yet. What is that paper by his side? Pick it up; give it to
-me."
-
-Averting her eyes from Basil's face, Ellen picked up the letter and
-gave it to Dan. "It is Minnie's writing," she whispered.
-
-"Hark!" said Dan.
-
-It was the cockatoo that Joshua had brought home that startled him. It
-was screeching down stairs, "Dan, Ellen, Minnie! Bread-and-cheese and
-kisses! and kisses, and kisses!" ending with the usual running fire of
-kisses, until it lost its breath. When the bird was quiet, Dan looked
-at the letter in his hand.
-
-"Minnie's writing," he said, trying to read it; but the words swam in
-his fading sight. "Read it, Ellen; I cannot make it out."
-
-Ellen took the letter from his trembling hand, and read:--
-
-
-"Father,--I have not gone from you because I do not love you, but
-because it was my fate to do what I have done. I could not resist it.
-I have nothing to say in justification of my conduct, except the words
-I heard you use to Joshua when you were telling him of my mother. I
-came into the room while you were speaking; it was dark, and neither
-you nor Joshua saw me. What you said of my mother then sank into my
-mind, and I can never forget it. Do you remember 'She loved me and
-sacrificed herself for me. Loving me, she conceived it to be her duty
-to follow me; she forsook friends and family for me, and I bless her
-for it. Her devotion, unworldly as it was, was sanctified by love.
-There is no earthly sacrifice that love will not sanctify.' As my
-mother did, so I have done. It will be useless searching for me; for
-when you read this, I shall be hundreds of miles away on the sea. If
-you guess my secret, keep it for the sake of my good name; and for the
-sake of my good name do not let any other eyes but yours see this
-letter. If it were possible for me to have a wish fulfilled, I would
-pray that I might die before this reaches you. On my knees I ask you
-to forgive your unhappy
-
- "Minnie."
-
-
-No one but Ellen noticed the entrance of Solomon Fewster while the
-letter was being read; and she, with a warning finger to her lips,
-restrained him by that gesture from coming forward. So he stood silent
-and attentive within the doorway. As the words came slowly and
-painfully from Ellen's lips, each of them cut into Dan's heart like a
-knife. Ellen had seen his sufferings, and would have ceased reading,
-but that he motioned her to proceed.
-
-"So, then," said Dan, after a long and painful pause, "Minnie is gone.
-What have I to live for now? I would have been content if she had only
-been near me; if I could have heard her voice or the rustle of her
-dress to assure me of her beloved presence. Without that, my life is
-dark indeed. But where has she gone?"
-
-He asked the question of himself; but Susan starting to her feet,
-answered him.
-
-"Where has she gone? Where else but to sea in the 'Merry Andrew,' with
-your false friend Joshua Marvel? And the knowledge of it has killed
-her father!"
-
-"It is false!" cried Dan in a clear ringing voice. "It is false, you
-bad sister!"
-
-"It is true, Daniel Taylor," said Solomon Fewster in his smooth oily
-voice. "I have here a letter from a sailor on board the 'Merry Andrew,'
-informing me that Minnie and Joshua are on the same ship."
-
-At this corroborative testimony, Susan fell upon her knees, and raised
-her arms.
-
-"Curse that false friend!" she cried.
-
-But Ellen fell at her side, exclaiming, "O Susan, Susan, restrain your
-tongue! For all our sakes--for my sake! He is my husband!"
-
-Whereat Solomon Fewster, upon whose face there had hitherto been an
-ill-concealed expression of triumph, crushed the letter he held in his
-hand, and muttered a bitter curse.
-
-And Dan, folding Ellen in his arms, said,--
-
-"Hush, my sister, hush! Blessings on your wedding-ring! Blessings on
-your husband and my true friend! We shall live to see him give the lie
-to slanderous tongues. I have something to live for now--to defend the
-honor of my brother!"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXV.
-THE DEAD WITNESS.
-
-
-When Ellen felt the comforting protection of Dan's arms, and heard the
-words to which he gave utterance in the nobility of his soul, the
-despair by which she had been overwhelmed vanished like snow before
-the sun, and left her an unhappy, but not a hopeless woman.
-
-"This, then, was your secret," said Dan to her, as she lay in his
-arms; "your marriage with Jo. It is the proof of his faithfulness, my
-dear. For me, I needed none. No heart but mine can judge my friend; no
-tongue shall malign him unanswered while I am by."
-
-"Good, noble brother," she sobbed, "to comfort me thus in the midst of
-your own great grief! I do not doubt him; I love him--love him--love
-him! My faithful darling!"
-
-The reproachful looks she cast at Solomon Fewster, no less than the
-passionate tenderness of her words, stung him to the soul. In truth he
-had received a severe blow. When the Lascar's letter was delivered to
-him, and he read the amazing news that Minnie was on board the "Merry
-Andrew," he exulted in the triumph that awaited him. "Ellen is mine,"
-he thought. "That fool of a whelp has played straight into my hand!"
-As such mean souls as Fewster's delight in detecting the meanness of
-others, he was rejoiced at the thought that Joshua had been playing
-false with Minnie, although, before reading the Lascar's scrawl, he
-had no suspicion of it. He walked to Dan's house exultant, and deemed
-himself fortunate in being in time to witness the tragic scene in
-Basil Kindred's chamber. But when he heard Ellen's declaration that
-Joshua was her husband, a groan of despair escaped him, and he became
-almost desperate in the sudden and unexpected dashing down of all his
-hopes. This feeling lasted but a very little while. His scheming mind
-was busy at work calculating the chances for and against him, and rays
-of light soon illumined the darkness. "If the Lascar keeps his word,
-and Joshua does not return," he thought, "all may yet be well." Even
-when Ellen flung at him the words, "I love him--love him--love him!"
-he said to himself, "Believing that he will come back to vindicate
-himself. We shall see."
-
-Notwithstanding this conflict of thought, his professional instinct
-led him to the side of the inanimate form of Basil Kindred. He placed
-his ear and hand to the dead man's heart; and then, with heartless
-solemnity he lifted the gaunt form in his arms, and laid it on the
-bed. Susan's eyes asked him, "Dead?"
-
-"Dead," he answered aloud. "It looks like a sudden stroke."
-
-Dan covered his face; and Ellen shudderingly turned her eyes from
-Solomon Fewster.
-
-"It is not my fault," he said, as if Ellen's looks conveyed an
-accusation. "Neither this, nor the letter I have received. It would
-not have been the act of a friend to keep such a thing to himself:
-What would you have thought of me, if you had discovered that I had
-received such a letter, and had concealed it?"
-
-"No one accuses you, sir," said Dan sadly. "Indeed how could you be to
-blame? These things have come of themselves, and from no fault of
-ours. But," and his eyes kindled, and he laid his hand soothingly on
-Ellen's head, "we will have no word spoken against Jo. He is dearer to
-us absent than present; he is dearer to us now, when Susan's voice
-accuses him, and when you come to add your testimony to hers than he
-has ever been before."
-
-"I have not come to add my testimony to hers," said Solomon Fewster,
-with a well-assumed warmth of manner. "It is no testimony of mine; it
-is no accusation of mine. This letter surprised and grieved me almost
-as much as it has you."
-
-"May I see the letter, sir?"
-
-"Certainly." He had almost said "with pleasure," but checked himself
-in time.
-
-Dan took the letter, which was written an an uneven and dirty piece of
-paper, and read aloud:--
-
-
-"Master,--Joshua Marvel has run away with a young woman that lives in
-Daniel Taylor's house--him as trains the birds. They are both of 'em
-on board the 'Merry Andrew.' I send this by the pilot, and told him
-that you would pay him for putting it into your hands. My faithful
-service to you. When I come back, I hope to get what you promised me.
-
-"Aboard the 'Merry Andrew.'"
-
-
-"There is no name to it," said Dan. "Who sent it?"
-
-"A sailor on the ship," replied Solomon Fewster; "a man who has done
-odd jobs for me, and whom I have assisted."
-
-"But how does he know me?"
-
-"Through the birds, and through my telling him of you, I suppose. He
-has been in the street often, and knows who live in the house. He is a
-faithful honest fellow, and I dare say thought it his duty to tell me
-about Miss Kindred, so that I might acquaint her friends."
-
-"'When I come back, I hope to get what you promised me,'" said Dan,
-reading from the letter.
-
-"I promised him money if he brought home some foreign birds," answered
-Solomon Fewster readily, "such as parrots and cockatoos, and other
-likely birds, for you to train for me."
-
-Meanwhile Susan had covered the dead man's face, and sat moaning on
-the floor. To her Dan addressed himself, calling her by name; but it
-was not until he had repeated it two or three times that her attention
-was aroused. She took her hands from before her eyes, and looked at
-him vacantly. There was no sign of intelligence in her face as she
-spoke; it seemed as if the light of reason had fled, and as if the
-words she uttered belonged to a lesson she had learned and was forced
-to repeat.
-
-"I promised him faithfully and sacredly--yes; they are the very words;
-he made me say them after him, 'Faithfully and sacredly,'--that I
-would never tell unless his tongue was sealed, and the time came when
-it was necessary to speak. Is the time come?"
-
-"It is, Susan," said Dan, a new fear at his heart; "it is come."
-
-"Is the time come?" she repeated, turning to the motionless form on
-the bed, and waiting for the answer in the awful silence that
-followed. "I was the only one he trusted. Not a soul but me was to
-come into the room; and they didn't--no I kept my promise faithfully
-and sacredly. He said to me, 'If I die, and Joshua Marvel has betrayed
-my daughter, give this book to Dan, and tell him it contains the words
-of a dying man.'" She rose to her feet, and taking a book which was
-lying on the desk, gave it to Dan. "Now you can tell him, when he asks
-you, that I obeyed him to the last, faithfully and sacredly."
-
-A listening expression flashed into her face, and she inclined her
-body to the door. With feverish haste she ran down stairs and into the
-street; but returned presently, muttering, "She is not come; there's
-no sign of her;" and resumed her station by the side of the bed.
-
-
-It is night, and Dan is sitting alone in his bedroom. An unopened book
-is before him: it is the book that Susan gave him by Basil Kindred's
-desire. He has not read a line in it. Between him and Ellen it has
-been tacitly agreed that whatever is written in it shall be read, by
-them, and by them alone, at night. Another book is also before him: it
-is a Bible, and it is open.
-
-Dan is waiting for Ellen. The grief that reigns in the house, and in
-that of Mrs. Marvel, cannot be written here. It is too deep, too
-overwhelming for expression. Mrs. Marvel is in the house now. All that
-she knows is that Basil Kindred is dead, and that Minnie is gone: she
-has no knowledge of the terrible suspicion that hangs like a deadly
-cloud over the good name of her beloved son. But the news of the death
-and the flight: they could not be concealed, although no one is aware
-how they became known: has gone forth into the neighborhood; and
-little knots of the neighbors have hung about the house all the
-evening and night, discussing the strange events. Even now,
-notwithstanding that it is near midnight, a dozen street-doors are
-open, each with its assemblage of gossippers, chiefly feminine,
-prattling, not at all sorrowfully, about the wonderful news. There is
-much head-shaking and raising of hands; but whatever may be the
-meaning of this play of heads and hands, it certainly does not express
-grief. The neighborhood is rather bare of historical events; and those
-that have just occurred are godsends. Given to the neighbors round
-about the merit of all the kindliness of heart they deserve, they
-really enjoy their gossip, and show their enjoyment of it. A stranger
-walking through the street might have reasonably supposed that the
-dwellers therein had been making general holiday.
-
-Dan's face is very pale as he sits, with no sign of impatience upon
-him, expectant of Ellen's coming. The door opens and Mrs. Marvel
-enters. She draws down the blind--the moonlight has been streaming in
-upon his face, giving it a more painful pallor than that which rests
-on it when the moon is shut out--and sits down by his side in silence
-for a while. She draws his head upon her breast, and kisses him; his
-arm steals round her neck, and he sheds tears, and kisses her in
-return; but few words pass between them.
-
-"Susan?" he asks.
-
-"She is in bed, my dear," she answers.
-
-"Has she said any thing?" he asks anxiously.
-
-"She has not spoken, my dear."
-
-He gives a soft sigh of relief. She knows that he is waiting for
-Ellen, and she will not linger. She kisses him again in her motherly
-way, and bids him goodnight; and soon after Ellen enters the room.
-
-A great change has taken place in Ellen. All the girlishness has gone
-out of her face, and in its stead is an expression of quiet
-trustfulness in which there is much sadness, but no doubt. It is as
-though she is prepared to defend and believe in her husband's honor,
-though all the world condemn him. She closes the door gently, and
-draws a chair next to Dan. Then those two faithful souls, to each of
-whom the bitterest of trials has come, look into each other's eyes,
-and are comforted by what they see. They exchange no words of
-sympathy; none are needed from one to the other. They make no effort
-to conceal their sorrow; it must be borne, and they must suffer. But
-for Joshua's sake, and for Minnie's, they must be brave and hopeful.
-
-Does Ellen acknowledge this, and in her heart of hearts is she
-disposed to be generous to the unhappy girl who has brought this great
-misery upon them? Yes--she feels nothing but pity for Minnie. The
-influences which actuate mental feeling are so delicate and various,
-that it is difficult even to the most profound of pathognomists to
-dissect the commonest of motives, and rightly account for it. We all
-pride ourselves, in a greater or less degree, upon our knowledge of
-character, and believe that we know full well what prompted So-and-so
-to do such-and-such a thing. But in truth, in nothing do we show more
-ignorance than in arrogating to ourselves the power of divining
-character and motive. Strive as we may be just and calm and
-reasonable--strive as we may to banish for the time the small feelings
-of uncharitableness which we are conscious of harboring, and which
-necessarily warp our judgment--we must from very necessity argue in a
-certain measure from our own point of view. Otherwise we should be
-infallible, and juries would never return a wrong verdict, and judges
-would never commit an error of judgment. Otherwise rogues would have
-their due; and some of them would not, as they do now, live in fine
-houses, and eat and drink of the best. It is impossible to put
-yourself in another man's place.
-
-Most women in Ellen's situation would have thought of Minnie with
-inexorable animosity. Not so Ellen. The knowledge that Dan loves
-Minnie would alone have been sufficient to disarm harsh or bitter
-feeling. But that influence is not necessary. She has the firmest
-faith in Joshua's honesty and virtue, and firmly believes that when he
-returns home, please God, all will be explained. In the mean time, her
-duty is clear. Joshua's good name is at stake. In face of all adverse
-circumstance and sentiment, she must uphold it, and defend it if
-necessary.
-
-Thus it is that as she and Dan sit looking sadly at each other, Dan is
-comforted by what he sees, and she is no less so. Their mutual faith
-in the purity of the absent dear ones is inexpressibly consoling to
-them. Unconsciously each gives to the other strength to bear the
-bitterness of the shock. But when their eyes turn to the book which
-they are to read to-night, they hesitate and tremble, What may not
-those dumb pages reveal! The place, the time, and all its surrounding
-circumstances are solemn and mournful. The presence of Death; the
-silence that strikes greater terror than brazen tongue of accusation;
-the gloom of the mean apartment, in the corners of which lurk fears
-made awful by the black shadow which inwraps them--these things and
-their influence impress with a deeper sadness those two young hearts.
-What wonder that they hesitate and tremble as they look upon the book
-in which the words of their dead friend are recorded? Joshua is on the
-sea, and each moment adds to the distance that separates him from his
-friends; Minnie is gone also; Basil, alas, is dead; and all that
-remains to light the mystery is the dumb witness that lies before
-them. But hesitation soon yields to indomitable faith.
-
-"Ellen," says Dan, laying his hand upon the book, "perhaps the worst
-of this day's trials is here. Are you prepared for it?"
-
-"Yes, Dan," answers Ellen with a steady light in her eyes.
-
-"Susan's words were very dreadful," continues Dan; "but she does not
-know Jo as we know him. Come, we will read what is here written. And
-if it accuses your dear husband and my dear friend, our hearts will
-defend him. His memory will be dearer to us because he is unjustly
-accused; and we will wait hopefully and patiently for his return,
-please God, and never, never waver."
-
-And drawing Ellen closer to him, Dan opened the book, and in a subdued
-voice read what follows.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVI.
-BASIL KINDRED'S DIARY.
-
-
-I make this record for various reasons, the strongest of which is the
-conviction that I have not long to live. Although my mind is in a
-state of sad confusion, what I write shall be no phantasy of the
-brain. I pledge myself to this. And I pledge myself also to throw down
-my pen when the suspicion comes upon me that, because of my fears and
-my agony, I am writing what is not strictly the fact. If I do not thus
-pledge myself, and death comes upon me unaware, this mute witness
-might be the cause of bringing undeserved unhappiness to persons whose
-conduct towards me has been wonderfully good and noble.
-
-Let me read what I have written. Yes, it is clear, and it gives me the
-assurance that, to-day at least, I shall be able to express myself
-clearly. I pause over every word. I am careful of the construction of
-every sentence. For I must be just. I could not rest in my grave if my
-fear spoke instead of my reason.
-
-What is it that immediately prompts me to commence this record? A
-letter--signed by no name, delivered by I know not whom. The writing
-is strange to me; I have never before seen its like. It lies before me
-now, upon my desk.
-
-It is night. I am alone, and Minnie is at Mrs. Marvel's house. Let me
-carry back my thoughts to the time when I first made the acquaintance
-of the good people with whom I have lived for years--for many happy
-years--during which Minnie has grown from a child to a woman.
-
-I had left her at home, poor child! hungry and unhappy. She had asked
-me in the morning for food, and I had none to give her, nor any money
-to buy it for her. The previous night we had eaten our last piece of
-bread. I went out of our little room, telling her I was going to get
-food for her. I toiled in the streets all the day, and was not
-fortunate enough to receive a penny. My sufferings were great, almost
-too great for human endurance, but I was compelled to bear them for
-the sake of Minnie. Nothing but the consciousness that, if I went home
-without food, my child might die from want, supported me. Late in the
-afternoon I was in the streets declaiming, when some boys among the
-crowd which surrounded me threw stones at me. One of the stones
-wounded me in the forehead, and I think I must have fainted. Two
-persons came to my assistance--a woman and a boy. The woman was Susan
-Taylor, the boy was Joshua Marvel. They assisted me home, and the next
-thing I remember was Susan bathing my wound and making tea for me. The
-boy Joshua had brought in some food for us. My gratitude was great,
-for his charity had saved my child. I blessed him that night before he
-left us.
-
-From that time he was a constant visitor to our wretched lodging, and
-from that time I never knew want. I grew to love him. He was to be a
-sailor, and it was a pleasure to me to listen to the enthusiastic
-outpourings of his mind. He had a friend, Dan, whom I had not then
-seen; and the loving manner in which he spoke of that friend, seemed
-to me to be an assurance of the goodness of his own heart. He was the
-principal subject of conversation between me and my daughter, and she,
-dear child! grew to love him too. Before he went to sea, the woman
-Susan Taylor--the sister of Joshua's friend Dan--came to live in the
-house in which I lodged, and was very kind to us. Joshua went to sea,
-and I felt a void in my heart as if I had lost a son. Minnie grieved
-as much as I did--perhaps more--for she had never had a companion, and
-Joshua's visits were looked upon as a kind of holiday. We consoled
-ourselves for our loss by speaking of him often and by looking forward
-to his return home. Minnie derived much pleasure from a childish
-conceit in which she indulged. She had a shell, and she used to place
-it to her ear and listen to the soft singing, to remind her of the sea
-and of Joshua, she said. I thought it was a pretty fancy; but had I
-feared then what I fear now, I would have crushed the shell to powder
-beneath my heel.
-
-Some time after Joshua left, circumstances occurred which caused me to
-remove to the house of Joshua's friend Dan. I was loath to do so when
-it was first proposed by Susan; but the argument used by Susan, who
-was devoted to us, that Minnie would have a companion of a suitable
-age in her sister Ellen, prevailed upon me. That was the sole cause of
-my removal to the house in which I am now living. I had reason to be
-grateful for the change. Minnie, who used to have many unhappy moods,
-was happy and cheerful in the society of her new friends. And I was no
-less so. I found that Joshua's parents were good simple people whom to
-know was to love. A girl could have had no better companion than
-Ellen, who is one of the pearls of womanhood. But before them all, I
-learned to love Dan. I had never met with so pure a mind, with so
-constant a nature. A cripple almost from his birth, it seemed as if
-the good God had endued him with the purest thought and the sweetest
-disposition to compensate for the misfortune he had met with. He might
-truly say, with our great poet, "Sweet are the uses of adversity."
-
-Some happy years passed, during the whole of which Joshua was at sea.
-At rare intervals letters from him were received, and the perusal of
-these letters gave us all--for we were like one family--the greatest
-pleasure. At length he returned. It is not long since--but a few short
-weeks--that he arrived home. He was expected, but not so soon. His
-coming was eagerly looked for--he was the hero of the two houses. The
-night of his return was memorable. It was Christmas-eve, and we were
-all assembled in Mrs. Marvel's kitchen, celebrating the blessed time
-with joyful, grateful hearts. Minnie persuaded me to read a play. I
-chose the "Tempest," that loveliest creation of the poet's mind. She
-is not present, but I can see her as she unloosed her hair and stood
-before me, bright and bewitching as Ariel could have been. "Do you
-love me, master?" she asked. I answered in the words of Prospero,
-"Dearly, my delicate Ariel." . . . I resume my pen, which I had laid
-aside, thinking that I was being betrayed by my feelings, and that I
-was indulging in an exaggeration of sentiment. But no. I have read
-over what I have written, and I am satisfied.
-
-I was in the midst of the lovely story when a knock came at the
-street-door. Minnie went out of the room to open the door. A silence
-followed. Presently a scream struck fear to all our hearts. We ran up
-stairs, and found that Joshua, having returned sooner than he was
-expected, had been stabbed by a coward's hand when his foot was on the
-threshold of his home. The house of joy was turned into a house of
-mourning. I have no need to set down here the events of the next few
-weeks, that bring me to the present day. Sufficient to say that Joshua
-lingered for some time between life and death, and to the joy of all
-of us, was declared out of danger three weeks ago. I have been
-confined to my chamber with my old complaint nearly the whole of that
-time. Susan has attended to me chiefly; for seeing Minnie's anxiety to
-assist Mrs. Marvel in her trouble, I have allowed her to be much away
-from me. Although Minnie has not spoken of it, I have learned that
-she, according to the doctor's statement, saved Joshua's life by
-pressing her lips to the wound in his neck and stopping in some
-measure the effusion of blood, which might have been fatal to him. It
-gave me pleasure to hear this; for no service, purposed or accidental,
-could pay for the kindness we have received from the good people with
-whom we have lived so happily.
-
-So! I have temperately set down all that has occurred up to the
-present, or rather up to four days ago, when I received the letter
-which lies before me now. I will not attempt to describe the effect it
-had upon me. It seemed to change the current of my blood. If there be
-truth in it, is there, can there be, truth in man? Before pinning it
-in the book, I copy it word for word:--
-
-"A well-wisher warns Mr. Basil Kindred that Joshua Marvel is playing
-false with his daughter. The writer has no purpose to serve in writing
-this, and does not wish to be known. The information he gives is given
-in kindness. Minnie Kindred loves Joshua Marvel, who takes every
-secret opportunity that presents itself to prosecute his bad designs
-upon a simple girl. It is right that Mr. Basil Kindred should be made
-acquainted with the real character of the hypocrite, who is fair to a
-man's face and false behind his back."
-
-With some girls and with some people, the best way to do with such a
-letter would be to show it to those concerned. But I dare not do this.
-It would bring unhappiness and mistrust among these confiding good
-people.
-
-And I fear for Minnie. I fear that the writer, whoever he may be, is
-right when he says that my darling child loves Joshua. And I, knowing
-her nature, feel that if unhappily she has contracted a love for
-Joshua, the discovery of it in this manner would bring misery upon her
-for life. No; she must not see the letter--must not have a suspicion
-of it.
-
-All Joshua's previous life contradicts the accusation. It was the
-simplicity and kindliness of his nature that attracted me to him. If
-he is fair to a man's face and false behind his back, he is false to
-his friend Dan; and I, knowing Dan's heart, know that there could be
-no blacker treachery than that; for I have at times suspected that Dan
-loves my Minnie. Yes; I may tell that secret to this mute friend,
-although I have never otherwise whispered it. On one particular night
-when we were all assembled together, reading a letter from Joshua, and
-when Mr. Praiseworthy Meddler was tracing the course of Joshua's ship
-upon the map, I detected in Dan's manner something more than a feeling
-of friendship for Minnie. Since then, other small evidences have
-forced themselves upon me, and I have not been unprepared for the
-disclosure of Dan's love. Would it be a good thing for Minnie? Yes; if
-she returned his love. Although he is a cripple, she could have no
-better mate: he is all that is noble and good, and he would make her
-happy, if she could learn to love him.
-
-If she could learn to love him! These words have caused me to think if
-Minnie could ever _learn_ to love--have caused me to ask myself if
-love is not intuitive to her, as it was to her mother. My anxiety is
-deepened by the thought. I am afraid to think further.
-
-Every thing depends upon Joshua. If she loves him, and he encourages
-her, he is false to his friend, false to honor. My duty is plain. I
-must watch first, and discover if or there be any foundation for the
-accusation, if it emanates from spite and vindictiveness.
-
-I close the book and lock it in my desk, for fear other eyes than mine
-should see what I have written.
-
-Notwithstanding the bodily pain I have suffered, I have so far
-controlled it as to visit Mrs. Marvel's house during the last three
-days, and to sit with the young people as if nothing ailed me. I am
-beset with doubt. I know not what to think. I have watched every look,
-every movement; and I am afraid that my anxiety has caused me to be
-uncivil and abrupt. I do not think that any one but Mrs. Marvel has
-noticed my anxiety or any change in me; but I have observed her
-sometimes look at me questioningly, as if wondering at my changed
-manner.
-
-That Minnie has an affection for Joshua is certain: she strives to
-prevent it being observed, and I think no one suspects her. If there
-is any secret understanding between her and Joshua, I have not
-discovered it. He treats her kindly and affectionately, but he is
-chiefly attentive to Ellen. But still the letter says that he avails
-himself of "every secret opportunity" to see her. If that be true, it
-is not likely that he would betray himself in the presence of his
-friends. I must act upon the results of my observation. I must
-endeavor to keep Minnie from visiting Mrs. Marvel's house so
-frequently; it may prevent her feelings from ripening into love. In a
-few weeks Joshua will be away, and then all danger will be over for a
-time. I am, indeed, loath to believe any wrong of him; he seems to
-have preserved the simplicity of character and the goodness of heart
-for which I used to admire him.
-
-I am glad I commenced this record; for my thoughts are often very
-confused, and my memory is impaired.
-
-Although my uneasiness increases with respect to Minnie, I have heard
-good news: Joshua is engaged to be married to Ellen. Do I need any
-other proof of Joshua's honesty? It would be monstrous if I did; and
-yet I cannot regard him with the old feelings of affection, for Minnie
-is unhappy, and he is the cause. One day I accuse myself of injustice
-towards him; another day I almost hate him, and curse the circumstance
-that made me and Minnie acquainted with him. Would to God that he were
-gone! Every hour that he stops is an additional agony to me.
-
-Minnie has been sullen and rebellious because I have sometimes
-prevented her from going to Mrs. Marvel's house. She has not always
-obeyed me. I must speak more firmly to her; "I must be cruel only to
-be kind."
-
-
-A day of agony. I have not been able to leave my room. Minnie was with
-me all the morning: but before she came to me, I had received another
-communication, in the same handwriting as the last. It contained but a
-few words,--
-
-"The friend who warned Mr. Basil Kindred before, warns him again.
-Joshua Marvel is a smooth-tongued villain. In his character of a hero
-he is playing false with two simple girls at on time."
-
-Who can this friend be? I have no friends out of these two houses. But
-whoever he is, he is right, I fear, as to Minnie, and may be right as
-to Joshua--the mere writing of the name gives me pain. The receipt of
-the few words I have just copied opened my wounds, and they bled
-afresh. I detained Minnie with me all the morning; and when she wanted
-to quit the room, I invented pretexts to induce her to remain. She was
-not at her ease; I saw that plainly. Once or twice I am afraid that I
-spoke harshly to her; but she was painfully submissive--almost humble.
-At length she rose, with the intention of leaving the room. I asked
-her where she was going. She answered, to see Mrs. Marvel. I grasped
-her hand, and bade her resume her seat. She asked me why I did not
-wish her to go to Mrs. Marvel's house; and when I said it was because
-I thought she troubled the Marvels too much, all the hardness and
-obstinacy in her nature came into play, and she answered in a voice
-that might have come from lips of stone, that that was not my reason,
-and that I was hiding something from her. For the first time I
-betrayed myself. I asked her if she was not hiding a secret from me;
-and she returned me an evasive reply. She left the room, and I was
-about to follow her, when I was seized with a terrible dizziness. My
-strength deserted me, and I was afraid I was about to die. The attack
-passed away, and left me as weak as a child.
-
-I pause in my recital of the day's events to make two declarations.
-The first is, that I am certain, from my sensations this day, that a
-sudden shock would be fatal to me; I am afraid that my heart is
-diseased. The second is, that if I die suddenly, and Joshua has
-betrayed my child, he is my murderer in the sight of God and man--as
-much my murderer as if he were to come into the room this moment and
-plunge a dagger in my heart!
-
-How awful are these words! As I look at them, they seem to rise in
-judgment against me. "Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy
-neighbor." Am I bearing false witness against Joshua? Am I to be the
-cause of bringing unhappiness to friends but for whom Minnie and I
-might have perished from hunger? Still do I cling to the hope that
-lives in uncertainty. Still do I strive to believe that my fears have
-grown without reason, and that they are like the monstrous shadows
-that mock us on the walls and ceiling of a room whose only light is a
-flickering fire. Above every other consideration, I must be just. If
-no eye but mine reads these lines, I shall have done no harm in
-writing them. If it should happily result that Minnie's love is not
-deeply rooted--if it should happily result that Joshua has not been
-tampering with her affections, and that he goes away spotless, as I
-would fain believe him to be--let me determine to destroy this record.
-It must be done. Determining to do this--willing it with the whole
-strength of my mind--I shall be able to do it even before I am
-stricken down, if it be fated that I am to die suddenly. Should it be
-otherwise--should he prove to be false--this record shall remain as an
-evidence of his treacherous heart.
-
-When Minnie left me, and I discovered that I was too feeble to follow
-her, I thought, Oh, if I had some one I could trust--some one to help
-me! And as I thought, Susan entered the room. In her I confided; to
-her I told my fears; and after pledging her sacredly to secrecy, I
-showed her the letter I have received. She has promised to watch
-Joshua, and she will be faithful. Now I shall know whether I have
-cause for fear; now I shall know whether Joshua Marvel is false or
-true.
-
-
-I do not think I shall ever be able to leave my room. It is more than
-a week since I wrote in this book: True, I have had nothing to say
-until now. Minnie has been tender and affectionate to me; she has been
-absent at various times during the day; but when she is with me she is
-all that a child should be. I have left her free to come and go,
-knowing that Susan was watching that she should come to no harm. I
-sometimes think that she is fighting with her soul; for a new-born
-sadness has settled upon her face. Yesterday I saw her sitting by the
-window, with her hands clasped in her lap, and a deep-seated sorrow in
-her eyes. I have seen her mother sit so in the old days long, long
-ago--in the old days that seem to belong to another life. I had been
-asleep; and when I awoke, I saw Minnie wrestling with her sorrow. I
-called to her twice before she heard me; and when she came to my side,
-she had the air of one who has been suddenly aroused from a dream.
-Darling child, I pray to God to give you strength to bear affliction,
-if it comes to you! If any sacrifice that I could make would lessen
-your pain, how gladly would I make it!
-
-Last night Susan slept with her, and in her sleep heard her murmur
-Joshua's name. It proves that he is in her thoughts; but it proves
-nothing more. I hear a step upon the stairs. Goodnight, dumb witness
-of my grief!
-
-
-How shall I commence? All my pulses are throbbing with rage and
-apprehension. Proof has come. Joshua Marvel is a damned false-hearted
-villain!
-
-I write with pain and difficulty. My heart is beating so violently,
-that I am obliged to stop to calm myself, for fear of consequences.
-Calm myself! Can I do it? I must. I will lay down my pen, and wait
-until I have subdued the tumult of passion which rages within me.
-
-So! I am calmer. It is well that I stopped, or what the doctor warned
-me of might have occurred. And I want to live--Oh, how I want to live!
-
-Susan is sitting in the room with me; for I am afraid a being alone,
-to-night of all nights. I am glad that I have kept this record; I am
-glad that, if I die suddenly, the guilt of an infamous recreant will
-be brought to light by means of this evidence.
-
-About noon to-day--I am writing this at night--Minnie brought a doctor
-to my bedside. I had steadily refused to see one before; for I knew
-what I was suffering from, and I knew that the doctor's art was
-powerless to cure me. But I was not displeased that Minnie brought
-him; it was her anxiety and love--for she does love me--that caused
-her to disobey my wishes. I sent Minnie out of the room, so that I
-might speak to the doctor in private. He told me nothing new; as well
-as suffering from rheumatism and low fever, I have heart-disease. He
-told me what I already knew--that I might die suddenly, without any
-other forewarnings than those I have already received. He went away
-after uttering the usual platitudes. Late in the afternoon I fell
-asleep; and when it was dark, I heard a step in the room; asking who
-was there, Joshua's voice answered me. I spoke to him bitterly out of
-the bitterness of my heart, and he answered me quietly and feelingly.
-He said he had noticed with sorrow that I was changed; that he was not
-conscious of having done any wrong. He begged that I would be to him
-as I was before he first went to sea, and when I had blessed him. I
-could not see his face; but his voice was tremulous with emotion; and
-when he appealed to my sense of justice, I softened to him, for I had
-no evidence against him but the suspicion which had been created by
-the warning letters I had received. I had it first in my mind to tell
-him all; but my pride and my consideration for Minnie's feelings
-restrained me. Instead of doing that, I resolved to probe him; and,
-that my agitation might not betray me, I refused to have a light. We
-spoke in the dark. I elicited from him that he was engaged to Ellen,
-whom he declared he loved before all the world. Upon that, his hand in
-mine, I wished him the happiness that faithful love deserves. When,
-after that, Minnie became the subject of conversation, there was a
-hesitancy in his manner that aroused my slumbering suspicions. Then I
-spoke so plainly to him--though telling him nothing about the
-letters--that he could not have misunderstood me. I told him that my
-heart was diseased, and that I could not live much longer. I told him
-that I was tortured by anxiety for Minnie's future; that she needed
-guidance and control; that she knew only one duty--the duty of love;
-and that she could scarcely understand that, under certain
-circumstances, love may be sinful. I told him that she was changed,
-that she was hiding something from me, and that I was afraid some such
-love as I had spoken of had come to her. And when I asked him if he
-knew or suspected to whom that love was given, he was silent, and did
-not answer me. Was not that silence sufficiently damning? I asked him
-if he were concealing any thing from me, and he equivocated. What
-should he conceal from me? he asked. At that answer I almost gave up
-hope; but my child's happiness was at stake, and I persevered. I
-resolved to tell him the story of my life, that he might learn how
-Minnie's mother sacrificed herself for love; that he might learn what
-Minnie's nature, being like her mother's, really was; and to what
-extent she would go where her heart was engaged. It was an appeal to
-him for mercy. How has he treated that appeal?
-
-I told him the story of my life; I laid bare my heart to him. I lived
-over again the agony of my wife's death. I told him that Minnie was
-like her mother, without her mother's teaching; that the impulse of
-her mind was under the control of the impulse of her heart; that those
-who knew it must guide her gently, tenderly; and that if any man
-betrayed her, he would have to answer for it at the Judgment-seat.
-Could tongue speak more plainly than mine did? Could any man who was
-not totally devoid of honor and humanity have listened to my trembling
-words unheedingly? I appreciate at its proper worth the code of
-morality by which many heartless men are guided; but I never believed
-it possible that man could be so base as Joshua has proved himself to
-be. Here is a proof of his villainy. Within a few minutes after my
-story was ended--within a few minutes after he left my room, crying in
-sympathy with me--he was fondling Minnie in the passage below. Susan
-can prove it. They were in the dark, and Susan came up from the
-kitchen with a lighted candle, and discovered them. Their hands were
-in each other's clasp; and when Joshua Marvel saw the light and Susan,
-he turned away his head, so that she should not see his face. They
-parted on the moment; and Susan, not appearing to notice them, passed
-them by, and, faithful woman as she is, came straight to me, and told
-me what she had seen.
-
-"Fair to a man's face, and false behind his back"--ay, that he is! But
-not for him, for whom my indignation can find no fitting name, do I
-care. For Minnie are all my thoughts. How can I act towards her? How
-can I warn her? Tell her that he is false! that he is lying to her!
-that to listen to him is shame! She would smile at my words; and if
-she dared not scorn, would pity the tongue that uttered the calumny. I
-must think; must think. In the mean time, she must not be allowed to
-go about without being closely watched. Susan will do that for me. It
-will not be for long. He will be away soon, thank God; and when he is
-gone, I can resolve what to do. Perhaps he may never come back. With
-all my heart I pray--No, I dare not pen the words. The thought of
-Ellen and Dan, and his gentle mother, stops me. I give them here my
-heartfelt thanks, for all their noble kindness to me and Minnie. But
-for him--the treacherous son, the false friend, the perjured lover--I
-vow never willingly to look upon his face again.
-
-My passion has exhausted me. I turn to the first page of this record,
-and I see there the pledge that I would throw down my pen when the
-suspicion came upon me that because of my fear and my agony I am
-writing what is not strictly the fact. I read over what I have written
-this night; and I solemnly declare that every word is true, as I hope
-to meet my wife in heaven!
-
-But a few words more. When I return this book to my desk, I shall tell
-Susan to place it in Dan's hands, if I die before Minnie is safe. A
-step upon the stairs! It is my darling child's!--
-
-
-Another day of misery has passed, and I have received farther damning
-proof that Joshua Marvel is tampering with Minnie's affections. In my
-present state of mind, it will be best for me to write down Susan's
-statement, word for word. I cannot trust myself. I call her to me, and
-bid her relate, without passion, and without prejudice, what she saw
-to-day. What follows is from her own lips.
-
-
-SUSAN'S STATEMENT.
-
-
-"I noticed this morning that Minnie was more restless than usual.
-Whenever I looked at her, she looked at me back again; as much as to
-say, what do you mean by staring at me in that way? I couldn't help
-thinking that she knew I was watching her and I felt uncomfortable.
-But I watched her for all that, as I promised you I would. When she
-went out of the room, I made believe that I wanted to go out too. Now
-I think of it, she must have gone out of the room on purpose to try
-me; because the second time I followed her, she turned upon me in the
-passage, and looked at me in such a manner that I was frightened.
-Between eleven and twelve o'clock I was in the kitchen, helping to
-cook the dinner; and when I came up stairs, Minnie was gone from the
-house. I ran round to Mrs. Marvel's, and she wasn't there. Scarcely
-knowing what to do, I slipped on my bonnet and shawl, and went into
-the streets to look for her. All at once it came into my mind, that if
-I should find her anywhere it would be at the docks, where Joshua's
-ship was, and where Joshua was working. I ran there as hard as ever I
-could, and just at the entrance of the docks I caught sight of Minnie.
-I was regularly out of breath, and my only fear now was that she might
-see me. So I kept out of the way as much as I could, and followed her
-quietly. When she got near the ships she stopped short; and presently
-Joshua, who was looking over the side of his ship, as if he was
-expecting some one, came down to where she was standing, and began
-talking to her. He seemed a little bit uneasy--perhaps, because there
-were so many people about, and because, I thought, he didn't want
-Minnie to be noticed, for all the workmen and sailors were staring at
-her. They went up a plank on to Joshua's ship; and Joshua had his arm
-round her waist. They stood by the side of the ship, looking towards
-the river, talking together. I never took my eyes off them, and I am
-certain--though, of course, I couldn't hear them--that they were
-talking of something very particular. All at once I lost sight of
-them; they had gone to a part of the ship where I couldn't see them. I
-think they must have been out of my sight for nearly a quarter of an
-hour; and when they returned, Joshua looked to the place where I was
-standing by the side of some large cases, and came off the ship
-towards me. I was frightened that he would catch me, and I ran away.
-When I was safe, I turned, and saw Joshua and Minnie together coming
-from the ship. Minnie walked out of the docks by herself; and I
-followed her home, and waited in the street a little before I went
-into the house after her. But I no sooner got inside the door, than
-Minnie met me in the passage; she hadn't taken her bonnet off. I
-didn't seem to notice her; but she came into the kitchen after me.
-'Where have you been, Susan?' she asked me, so sudden-like that I was
-almost taken off my guard. 'Out for a walk,' I said. 'Have you been to
-the docks?' she asked me. 'No,' I said; but I felt my face turning red
-as I told the story. I thought she was done with her questions; but
-she soon commenced again. 'Are you going out again?' she asked. I
-said, No, I wasn't. '_I_ am,' she said; 'I am going out for a walk.'
-And she ran up stairs and out of the house. I didn't know what to do;
-and I came to you, and you told me not to watch her any more to-day."
-
-
-It is evident that Minnie is suspicious of Susan, and I know that
-Susan is no match for her. Ill as I am, I can see but one thing to
-do--I must wait and hope. That the innate goodness and purity of
-Minnie's heart will keep her from harm, is my earnest prayer. I will
-be, if possible, more tender and loving to her than I have hitherto
-been. I dare not speak plainly to her; I believe, if I did, that she
-would go away from us, and we should never see her again. If I were
-well, it would be different. I should take her from here until Joshua
-Marvel had sailed.
-
-What can I say of him? It is clear that Minnie went to the docks by
-appointment, and that he expected her. I have appealed to him vainly.
-After what passed between us--after the knowledge he has gained that I
-am aware of his treachery--he has shown himself, in this clandestine
-meeting with Minnie, to be totally devoid of honor. I leave him to his
-conscience and to the judgment of his friends. May occasion never come
-for them to learn how they are deceived in him!
-
-
-Two days more have passed. In a week Joshua Marvel's ship sails. I
-believe from that moment I shall begin to grow better. Then I shall
-make new plans for the future. The future! Alas, my future on earth
-will soon come to an end! See how I contradict myself. One moment
-saying that I shall begin to get better when Joshua is gone; the next,
-that my end must soon come. But 'tis in the nature of such a state of
-feeling as mine to be hopeful one minute, and despondent the next. The
-best thing for Minnie would be, that she should be impressed and
-touched by Dan's love for her--of the existence of which I am sure,
-having thought much of Dan's manner towards her--and that she should
-consent to marry him. It is not certain that she loves Joshua; after
-all, nearly the whole--nay, the whole--of the evidence is
-circumstantial. It is but natural that she should have an affection
-for him; the nature of the intimacy, his kindness to her and me, the
-very circumstances attendant upon his return home, make that a
-necessity. Indeed, indeed, it would be most unnatural if an affection
-did not exist between them. The mere writing of these words is
-comforting to me. I know that they are at variance with much that I
-have previously written; but at one time I am writing out of my
-despair, at another time out of my hope. I write now out of my hope.
-Joshua Marvel will soon be gone, and I am assured that no farther
-meeting has taken place between him and Minnie. Minnie's behavior to
-me has been most kind. She is growing more and more like her mother
-every day. There appears to have arisen in her some consciousness that
-my claims to her love are more binding upon her than those of any
-other person. I have passed some very happy hours with her.
-
-She said a strange thing to me this morning. "Father, do you think I
-should make a good actress?" The question startled me, for it brought
-back to me some memories of my past life. Minnie, when a little child,
-was often in her mother's arms in the theatre where I happened to be
-playing; her mother would be waiting for me perhaps, and would not
-leave our little darling alone in the room. Minnie has no definite
-remembrance of those times and circumstances, I think; but shadowy
-impressions of the scenes she then almost unconsciously witnessed are
-stamped upon her mind. Upon this theme I questioned her somewhat
-curiously this morning, and found that these experiences had had their
-effect upon her, and that she has vague remembrances of beautiful
-creatures beautifully dressed, walking in gardens in the midst of
-light. Ah, if she were aware of the reality! If she knew what poor
-struggling men and women these beautiful creatures were, and what a
-mockery were the beautiful dresses and the lovely gardens in which
-they lived their artificial lives! But I did not disenchant her. Life
-is bitter enough; if a gleam of brightness can be thrown upon it by
-the indulgence of a harmless fancy, it is good. In the midst of our
-conversation, Minnie suddenly left the room, and in about half an hour
-returned completely metamorphosed. She went out of the room a fair
-lovely girl, she returned a dark tawny woman, looking at least half a
-dozen years older; but still beautiful, very beautiful. I gazed at her
-in wonder. By what means had she effected such a marvellous change in
-herself? She explained, first asking me if I knew her again. Knew her
-again? Could she by any disguise hide herself from my knowledge? But
-suppose I had only seen her once in my life, she asked, then did I
-think I should have known her again? I did not exactly know how to
-answer that, and although she pressed me to give her an answer, I
-could not. I was delighted to see her in the new light in which she
-presented herself to me; it was almost an assurance that some portion
-of my fears was groundless. She explained to me that in the box
-containing her clothes were some remnants of the wherewithals I once
-used in my profession, such as colors and a few wigs. I had forgotten
-them, not having had occasion for them for so long a time. And she
-confessed that she had often amused herself with these things. Indeed,
-in the middle of her explanation she stooped and hid herself from my
-sight, and rose in the wig I used to wear when I played "Hamlet." She
-had tucked up her beautiful hair with the skill of an actress, so that
-it was completely hidden by the wig; and as she stood before me, I saw
-in her some shadowy resemblance of myself as I was in days gone by. I
-could not but be delighted with her light humor; it almost entirely
-dispelled my fears. Then she took off the wig, and washed the color
-out of her face, and sat by my bedside quietly. I am used to her
-variable moods, and therefore, although I was sorry to see that her
-sportiveness had fled, and that a more serious mood took its place, I
-was not surprised. Never in all her life has she shown me such
-tenderness as she exhibited towards me this day. "I shall always love
-you, father," she said to me, more than once. Dear child! Darling
-treasure of my heart! All good angels guard you.
-
-
-The cup of happiness is dashed from my lips. Something so strange, so
-unexpected, has happened, that, simple as it is, I scarcely know how
-to set it down, or what to augur from it.
-
-Minnie has gone!
-
-Where--for how long for what purpose--I do not know. She has gone from
-her home, from me.
-
-Early this morning, while I was waiting to see her dear face, I was
-thinking of something strange that occurred in the night, wondering
-whether it formed part of my dreaming fancies or had actually
-occurred. It was this:--
-
-The house was very quiet. It was the most solemn part of the night,
-when troubled life is most like peaceful death. The healthfulness of
-dreamless sleep is denied me, as it is denied to all men whose minds
-are harassed. For many weeks I have not enjoyed an hour's repose, and
-so confused are the images that pass through my mind when I am alone,
-that I am often in doubt whether the scenes in which I am taking part
-are real or fanciful. I was in this condition last night at the time
-of which I am writing. While I was thinking or dreaming of Minnie and
-her mother, I heard a soft footfall in the room. The impression that
-some one was in the room was strong upon me, and when I felt a kiss
-upon my face, and my pillow being smoothed by a gentle hand, I was
-almost convinced that it was Minnie. The presence remained with me for
-I know not what length of time; I do not know when I lost it, or when
-it departed, but when I called "Minnie!" no voice answered me. When
-daylight came, I determined to ask Minnie if it was she who had
-entered my room in the night. I waited impatiently for her appearance,
-but she did not come. Susan came, and I asked her if Minnie was down
-yet; Susan had not seen her. I bade her go and tell Minnie to come to
-me; she returned and said that Minnie was not in bed, nor in any part
-of the house. As Susan told me this, she came to my bedside, and,
-stooping, picked up a paper which must have fallen from beneath my
-pillow. There was writing on it--Minnie's writing. It was addressed to
-me, and it told me that Minnie had left me, not from any want of love,
-but because she was miserable and unhappy. She said said she knew that
-she had been watched; that a feeling she could not control had
-compelled her to leave for a time; that she would write again or see
-me in a few days; and she begged me to believe that no one but herself
-was to blame for what she had done. She asked me, too, not to be
-anxious as to how she would live, for she had provided for that.
-
-The first thing I did was to desire Susan to lock the door, and on no
-account to allow a person to enter the room. For the thought flashed
-upon me, that if it were known that Minnie had left her home
-clandestinely, her good name would suffer. She had done a foolish
-thing--ay, it was a cruel thing to leave me thus; but it was done in
-all innocence, I am sure, and in ignorance of the world's judgment
-upon such an act. I, her father, must protect her good name; no breath
-of slander must be allowed to touch her. Therefore I judged it
-imperative that the secret of her departure should be known only to
-Susan and me. I gave Susan the letter to read, and when her tears were
-dried, my plan was formed. It is well for me that I have such an
-attached and faithful friend as Susan. Without her, I should be
-helpless indeed. I explained my wishes to her, and she promised to
-obey them implicitly--and she will. The Marvels and Dan and Ellen are
-to be told that Minnie cannot leave me; that my illness has increased,
-and I require her constant attendance. And on no pretence whatever is
-any one of them to be allowed to come into the room. The door is to be
-always locked, and when Susan goes out of the room, she is to lock the
-door and take the key with her. I am afraid that Susan judges Joshua
-even more harshly than I do; for she suggested that she should watch
-his movements, in the expectation that some clew might be gained. Her
-evidence of to-day is all in his favor. She ascertained that he went
-this morning direct from home to his ship; that he worked there for
-six hours, and that he came home direct to Ellen. No, I cannot
-associate him with Minnie's disappearance. I have been thinking as
-coherently as I could as to what is most likely the cause of her
-leaving home, and the most hopeful conclusion I can arrive at is this:
-That Minnie has an attachment for Joshua, which, in the face of his
-engagement with Ellen, she feels it is her duty to subdue; that it is
-painful to her to be a witness of Ellen's happiness; and that, fearful
-lest she should betray her attachment, she has left the neighborhood
-until Joshua has gone upon his voyage.
-
-I am re-assured. This conclusion is reasonable as well as hopeful. I
-must bear with the misery of her absence--ah, how I miss her beloved
-face!--in the hope that my darling will return to me when he is gone,
-and that she will regain her peace of mind, and be to me as she has
-hitherto been; chastened perhaps, but not entirely unhappy.
-
-Are you thinking of me, Minnie? Can you realize the depth of my love
-for you, my dearest? If such a thing exists in the flesh as spiritual
-communion with those we love, you will know, darling treasure of my
-heart! that my thoughts, my blessings, my prayers are with you now.
-
-
-In two days Joshua's ship will sail, and then my darling will come
-home. The secret of her departure has been well kept. No one knows or
-suspects. There is a rare faithfulness in Susan's nature. If she
-possessed all the graces of womanhood, she could not be nobler than
-she is.
-
-I need all my strength to enable me to bear with Minnie's absence; so
-constantly do my thoughts dwell upon her, that at certain times I lose
-consciousness of what has taken place, and detect myself listening for
-her footstep. At other times I am engrossed by the idea that many
-years have passed since I last saw Minnie. When this impression is
-upon me, Minnie appears to me not as a woman, but as a child.
-
-
-Joshua Marvel has gone. Thank God! Now I may expect Minnie to return.
-Any moment may bring her to my loving arms again. I am haunted by the
-ghosts of footsteps on the stairs. I know afterwards that my fancy has
-conjured them up; but if they were real, I could not hear them more
-plainly. They are Minnie's footsteps always. I hear them first in the
-passage leading from the street--I stop and listen. Softly yet swiftly
-they come nearer and nearer to me, till they are outside my door. Then
-I say to myself, "She is lingering for a while, thinking of the
-happiness I shall feel when she opens the door and runs to my side."
-But the long silence that follows tells me that the steps I heard were
-created by my fancy, and that I have still to wait for the
-accomplishment of my dearest hope.
-
-Before Joshua left, he came to the door, and asked to see me and
-Minnie to bid us good-by. His desire to see Minnie was assuring, for
-it convinced me that the reasons I assigned for her leaving are
-correct, But I would not see him--I could not; for if he came into the
-room, he would discover Minnie's absence.
-
-I am thankful to think that may forced seclusion will soon be at an
-end. How the minutes lag! Come, Minnie! Come, my darling child!
-
-
-How shall I be able to endure this agony? It is night; yesterday
-morning Joshua Marvel left to go on his voyage, and there is no sign
-of Minnie. What can I think? Has any calamity befallen her? Is she
-lying sick, helpless anywhere, and must I remain here, gnawing my
-heart away with the knowledge that I am powerless to help her? O God,
-who only witnesseth my sufferings, send my darling home to me
-to-night! If in my life I have erred, and deserve punishment--if the
-injunction I laid upon the woman who loved me, and whom I loved with
-all my strength, was a crime, and if I am to suffer for the misery of
-her wedded life, being the cause of it--deal with me as thou wilt; but
-let me look once more upon the face of my darling!
-
-
-The third day. My life is being tortured away. I believe that I shall
-die before seeing Minnie. The prescience of death is upon me. Every
-few minutes Susan runs into the street to see if Minnie is coming; but
-there is no sign of her. The slightest sound in the house causes my
-heart to beat so violently that I am afraid. I try to think, but I
-cannot; I can only fear. These few words have taken me long to write.
-I cannot read what I have previously written. I have tried to do so,
-but the words swim before my eyes. I can write no more to-day.
-
-
-With a despairing mind I trace these words slowly and painfully. They
-are powerless to express my feelings.
-
-Death is near. I know it. Not by physical pain am I warned, but I know
-it. I saw my wife last night. She stood by my side for full an hour.
-It is a sign that my hour is come.
-
-Susan is below, looking for Minnie, perhaps--looking for Minnie, who
-will never, never come. . . .
-
-I take up my pen again. What lies before me? A letter. Susan brought
-it up a while ago, and gave it to me. But when I saw the writing on
-the cover, I had not courage to open it, so I placed it in the desk.
-It is addressed to me in Minnie's writing. And on the cover are these
-words: "The 'Merry Andrew;' John Steele, pilot." The letter, then,
-comes from the "Merry Andrew," and is in Minnie's writing. What
-follows? That Minnie is on board the "Merry Andrew" with Joshua
-Marvel! I must read it--I _must_, if it strike me dead!
-
-
-That was all that was written. Dan read every word of the manuscript
-aloud, but was compelled by emotion to pause many times. During the
-silence that followed, one thought rose uppermost in their minds.
-Ellen thought, "How will Dan bear this?" And Dan had the same thought
-with respect to Ellen. Is such noble unselfishness rare? Let us hope
-not. For the first and only time in the course of this narrative, the
-writer pauses to speak of a personal experience of devotion and
-unselfishness. It was before him during his boyhood in the person of
-his mother; and it is to her, and to the patient, unmurmuring
-gentleness with which she bore the trials of her life, that her
-children owe whatever little of good there may be in their nature. It
-is from his experience of his mother's life of goodness and
-self-sacrifice that he knows that the noble unselfishness of Dan and
-Ellen is not, thank God, a creation of his fancy. And as he writes
-these words in the midst of a great city, with all the whirl of its
-busy life around him, he is glad to think that in it--in great
-mansions and mean houses, in sight of gardens where Nature makes
-holiday, and of dirty streets and courts where bright leaf never
-grows--flowers of human life which the world shall never see are
-blossoming tenderly and holily, and living gentle lives for others'
-good.
-
-For a long time no word was spoken by Ellen and Dan. Then Dan turned
-and looked in Ellen's face. She met his gaze pityingly, almost
-appealingly. He answered her with a sad smile, in which there was much
-sweetness.
-
-"You were the first to guess my love for Minnie," he said; "and only
-to Jo did I ever confess it. But do not fret for me, my dear; she can
-never be to me what I was daring enough to hope she would be one day.
-My love for her is not less strong, but my hope is buried now."
-
-She could say nothing but "Oh, my poor Dan! Oh, my poor Dan!"
-
-"Nay, why?" he answered in his gentle voice; "what could I have
-offered her? What right had I, a cripple, to entertain the hope? I
-dared to hope that she, bright, strong, and full of healthful life,
-would tie herself to a weak, sickly thing like me. I dared to hope
-that she would love me. I fed my heart upon delusions; I can see it
-now, But I can love her still--can believe in her still--shall have
-faith in her purity as long as my heart shall beat, and after
-that--ay, who knows?" He paused for a little while before he resumed:
-"What you and I have in our thoughts, my dear, we must speak of; in
-that lies our only consolation. And we must not shrink from it; for
-our duty, no less than our love, demands it."
-
-And yet she did shrink, fearing what was coming.
-
-"What wonder that she should love Joshua?" continued Dan,
-unflinchingly determined to look the truth in the face, and not to
-spare himself; although as he spoke his quivering lips and tremulous
-voice betrayed his agitation. "We who know how good and brave he is
-are able to understand that she could not help loving him. But he--no,
-he played no false part by her." He placed his hand upon the Bible,
-and the action gave a deeper solemnity to the declaration. "Some
-suspicion he may have entertained that her feelings towards him were
-warmer than they ought to have been; and I well know the grief such
-suspicion brought to him. But he could not mention it--he dared not
-speak of it for Minnie's sake--for mine. I can trace a meaning now in
-the last words he said to me. 'You do not doubt me, Dan?' he asked. I
-answered, 'No, nor never could.' And then he said he should not have
-asked, but that certain things had distressed him lately. Poor Jo!
-Yes, he must have guessed Minnie's secret, and, knowing my love for
-her, trembled lest I should turn against him. Turn against him! my
-best, my dearest friend! When I do, it will be time for me to die.
-Believe that I never wavered in my love or my truth, and that to the
-last I held you in my heart as I hold you now, gentlest, dearest, best
-of friends!"
-
-Unconsciously he had uttered the very words which Joshua addressed to
-him, and he spoke them as if Joshua were standing before him.
-
-"As for what we have read to-night, we, and we alone, can rightly
-understand it. He who wrote it in his agony knows now that Joshua's
-heart is as pure as Minnie's honor."
-
-"Those strange letters poor Minnie's father received," whispered
-Ellen; "who wrote them?"
-
-"Who stabbed Jo when he came home?" asked Dan in reply. "Whoever did
-that wrote the letters. Jo has an enemy." Then, with a sudden
-remembrance of Joshua's warning against Solomon Fewster, he cried in a
-louder tone than he had hitherto used, "Mr. Fewster!" With eager
-impatience he turned over the pages of Basil Kindred's diary, and
-lighted upon the original letters. They were pinned on blank pages at
-the end of the diary, and were written on soiled sheets of blue
-letter-paper. "No," said Dan, examining them; "the writing is strange
-to me. We must wait until Jo comes back; all will be explained then."
-
-The candle had burnt low in the socket by this time, and Dan had just
-said, "I think we had better try to sleep for a little while, Ellen,"
-when they heard sounds of some one walking softly about the house.
-
-"There is no one here but Susan," said Ellen in a tone of quiet
-surprise.
-
-"No one but"--said Dan, and then paused, awestruck by the thought of
-that only other one in the house, who lay stark and dead in the room
-above.
-
-They listened to Susan's footsteps, and a new fear entered their
-hearts. There was a soft stealthiness in the footfall, as if Susan
-were hunting for some one who was hiding from her.
-
-"Shall I go and see?" asked Ellen.
-
-"Hush!" whispered Dan.
-
-Susan's footsteps, soft and stealthy as those of a cat, were in the
-passage. Presently the door was opened cautiously, and Susan entered,
-and softly closed the door behind her. She did not notice either Dan
-or Ellen, but looked about the room inquiringly, then went to the
-window and pulled up the blind. The moon was high in the heavens, and
-the light streamed down upon her face, making it ghastly.
-
-"Susan!" cried Dan.
-
-But she did not heed him; she peered anxiously through the window into
-the street, shading her eyes with her hand.
-
-"Is she asleep?" whispered Ellen.
-
-"I don't know," said Dan in a troubled voice; "it is dreadful to see
-her with that expression on her face."
-
-It was an expression of suppressed watchfulness; that her
-firmly-compressed lips and wandering eyes were at variance might have
-been due to the peculiar circumstances of her life; but in the cunning
-and revengeful determination in her face there was no sign of
-indecision. It was as though she had staked her life on the
-accomplishment of a task.
-
-As she turned from the window and approached Dan, he seized her hand.
-"Susan," he said, gently, "speak to me, my dear. What is the meaning
-of this?"
-
-She laid her hand upon his head, and said, "Poor Dan! And you loved
-her, and she is lost to you."
-
-"Not lost, Susey," he said, detaining her hand and humoring her, for
-he was afraid that her reason was gone; "not lost. She will come
-back."
-
-"She will never come back--never, never! When she hears that _he_ is
-dead--he is lying dead up stairs, Dan--she will never come back; she
-will drown herself first; for she loved him, and me too; and would
-have loved you, Dan, but for that false-hearted friend.
-
-"You must not say that, Susey," said Dan, pointing to Ellen, who had
-turned aside weeping. "Look at Ellen. He is her husband, and he is not
-false-hearted. For her sake you must have kinder, juster thoughts
-towards Jo."
-
-But Susan did not catch the sense of his words. All that she
-understood was, that he was speaking in defence of Joshua.
-
-"All in his favor," she muttered. "If any one is to blame, it is
-Minnie--that's what all of you will say. But I know better; I know
-better. Didn't I watch them? Didn't I see him making love to her on
-the ship? Didn't I see the poor dear that's lying dead up stairs
-tortured slowly to death? And don't I know who killed him?"
-
-"Who, Susan, who?" asked Dan, holding his breath.
-
-"Joshua Marvel," said Susan, between her set teeth, with no change
-upon her face. "And as God's my judge, I will bring him to justice!
-You are his friends--I know that: you'll try to hide him from me; but
-I'll do what I've made up my mind to, if I drop down dead the minute
-after."
-
-She twisted her hand from Dan's grasp, and crept slowly into the
-passage, and thence into the street. And there she stood for many
-minutes, with the same expression of implacable animosity on her face,
-waiting for the return of Basil Kindred's murderer.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVII.
-WHAT THE NEIGHBORS THINK OF IT.
-
-
-The events that have been described, proved to be something more than
-a nine-days' wonder. The neighborhood was remarkably bare of exciting
-incidents, and nothing so stirring as the sudden death of Basil
-Kindred and the flight of Minnie had happened within the memory of the
-oldest inhabitant. Besides that, there was one element in the
-occurrences which, above all others, added zest and flavor to
-them--this was the element of mystery. Here was a family, which might
-be looked upon as the most respected family in the neighborhood; for
-there was no question about the position held by the Marvels. Every
-one of the neighbors liked them, and every one of the neighbors had a
-good word for them. They had lived in the neighborhood--they and their
-fathers and grandfathers before them--for many scores of years, and no
-shadow of reproach had ever rested upon a single member of the family.
-They had always been steady, industrious, and sober, and had been held
-up as examples, time out of mind, by wives to their husbands, and
-parents to their children. They were homely, hospitable, and sociable,
-and, although they might very well have done it, had never held their
-heads above their fellows. If any male acquaintance wanted a word of
-advice, he went to Mr. Marvel for it; and the advice received was
-generally found to be sound, and was always admitted to be good. If
-any one was sick, Mrs. Marvel always came forward to help and assist,
-in her small way, and was always ready to sit up of a night if it were
-necessary, and to do some portion of the household work if it were
-needed. And what she did was done so unostentatiously and quietly
-that it never left a sting behind it, and never--strange as it may
-sound--elicited any thing but gratitude. Joshua was a model of a son,
-and the neighbors had been proud of him. Take them for all in all, the
-Marvels were a credit to the locality. And yet, as you shall presently
-see, notwithstanding their irreproachable character, notwithstanding
-the credit in which they were held, notwithstanding that they were
-famous for all the virtues under the sun, a very remarkable change was
-to take place in the estimation in which they were held.
-
-Then as to the Taylors. There had been many transitions of feeling
-regarding them when the parents were alive. They had not been a credit
-to the neighborhood. The meek uncomplaining life which Mrs. Taylor had
-led had been entirely lost sight of in the drunken dissolute habits of
-the head of the family. Perhaps it was because of this bad conduct on
-the part of Mr. Taylor that the virtues of the good wife had not been
-taken into account; and the fact remained, that it was not until after
-Mr. Taylor's death--the manner of which was disgraceful, and left a
-blot upon the family name--that any strong affection was mingled with
-the pity with which Dan and Ellen were regarded. There were so many
-singular circumstances connected with the family history. First, there
-was Susan letting Dan fall out of the window when he was a baby and
-breaking his legs. Many of the neighbors, with young families of their
-own, remembered the time when they were boys and girls, and when Susan
-was twitted and jeered at for being Dan's murderer. Then Susan's
-strange manner and slovenly dress--not it must be admitted, that her
-slovenliness had very much to do with the feeling,--had not rendered
-her a favorite; and she was often spoken of as being soft and not
-quite right in her mind.
-
-Then came that part of Mr. Taylor's career when (it having been
-whispered about that he had been the death of his wife) he fell into
-deeper and deeper dissipation, and when he was to be seen regularly
-every night tumbling out of the public-house, and reeling home in a
-state of intoxication. It is surprising how hard many wives, whose
-husbands were not quite free from the reproach of over-indulgence,
-were upon the failings of Mr. Taylor. He was a "drunken beast," a
-"disgrace to the street," and so forth. And yet, as you have seen,
-they were proud of the beautiful friendship that existed between Dan
-and Joshua, and appreciated the good conduct of Ellen from the time
-that she was big enough--she was young enough, Heaven knows, when her
-duties commenced--to assist in the cleaning and washing. But the
-father's drunken habits stained the family reputation, and not all the
-washing and wringing could wash it clean at that time. Then came the
-shameful death of the drunkard. From the date of that occurrence, the
-position of the family began to improve, and the engagement of Ellen
-and Joshua lifted them up still further in the estimation of their
-neighbors.
-
-Lastly, there were Basil Kindred and Minnie. Neither of them had ever
-been favorites out of their own small circle. Basil Kindred had held
-his head above them, and Minnie was too much of a lady for "such poor
-folks as us." All the grown-up girls disliked her because she was
-superior to them, and because she did not associate with them.
-Therefore neither father nor daughter obtained sympathy, and there was
-very little pity expressed for Basil's death. As for Minnie, she was
-generally condemned. The neighbors in speaking of her and her flight
-said, "she was always a forward thing;" and some even went so far as
-to call her a "stuck-up slut." They never expected any thing better of
-her, not they.
-
-The mystery was, how it all became known; for it was known, every
-detail of it, the day following that on which Basil Kindred had died.
-Every person, for about a dozen streets round about, knew all the
-particulars almost as soon as Mr. and Mrs. Marvel were made acquainted
-with them--knew that Minnie had run away, knew that she was in Joshua
-Marvel's ship, knew that the intelligence of the flight had caused her
-father's death. Then they began to be wise in their generation, after
-the usual manner of human herds, and before nightfall of the second
-day it was recognized as an established fact, that it had been a
-cunningly-planned plot from first to last, and that Joshua and Minnie
-had run away together.
-
-There is no accounting for these revulsions of feeling, and it is
-perhaps best not to attempt to analyze them. So much small malice and
-miserable uncharitableness would be brought to light, that we should
-be ashamed of the exposure--being liable to such influences ourselves.
-Joshua's character had hitherto been irreproachable; he had been
-almost loved by many, and liked and admired by all. Suddenly he is
-tainted by suspicion, and by suspicion only. There is not a tittle of
-direct evidence against him. But the suspicion is enough; directly it
-is whispered, it swells and grows, like the cloud which is at first
-"no bigger than a man's hand," and Joshua's good name is wrecked in
-the storm that follows.
-
-The additional grief that this general verdict inflicted upon Joshua's
-parents may easily be imagined. They had to learn that "slander's edge
-is sharper than the sword," and that though their dear son were
-"chaste as ice and pure as snow, he should not escape calumny." But
-they did not receive these lessons meekly. They fought and protested
-against them with all the strength of their loving souls. They might
-as well have tried to stop a fierce wind with the palms of their
-hands.
-
-One of their bitterest experiences was the knowledge that there was a
-difference of sentiment between them. They did not all believe alike.
-All of them, except Susan, believed alike in the innocence and purity
-of Joshua; but not so with respect to Minnie. The mercy that Dan and
-Ellen accorded to her was denied to her by Mr. and Mrs. Marvel.
-Neither of them thought well of her; and although Mrs. Marvel's
-verdict was less harsh than that of her husband, she too, gentle and
-forgiving as was her nature, could not forgive and hold dear the
-unhappy girl who had brought this great misery upon them. What Minnie
-had done was nothing less than a crime in the eyes of the good mother
-and good woman.
-
-But Minnie had one champion--Susan. It was generally reported, a few
-days after the tragic occurrence, that Susan had gone mad because of
-Basil Kindred's death; and a whisper went about, that, mad as she was,
-she was fixed to the one idea of bringing Joshua to justice. Susan's
-madness, if madness it was, took a very mild form. She did not speak
-upon the subject, but she believed thoroughly in Minnie's innocence
-and Joshua's guilt; and she was ever on the watch to bring that false
-friend to justice. She was always peering about her and hunting for
-Joshua. She contracted a strange habit of suspecting that he was
-biding in the place she last left, and when she went out of the house,
-returned, after going a few paces, to see if the man she was waiting
-for was in the passage. If she opened a gate and shut it behind her,
-she walked back to it and looked about her, expectant. Never a night
-passed but she rose from her bed and went into the street, waiting for
-Joshua; in the dead of night, when all others were asleep, she would
-sit at her window and look into the street, waiting patiently. When
-they discovered this habit at home, they tried to break her of it; but
-their efforts were unavailing. By and by, this proceeding began to be
-exceedingly popular in the neighborhood, and popular opinion veered
-round to Susan's view; Minnie was not so thoroughly condemned, and the
-blame was entirely laid on Joshua's shoulders. And when the neighbors
-openly expressed their sympathy to Mr. Marvel because Joshua had
-"turned out bad," he resented it angrily in his dogmatic obstinate
-way, until he began to quarrel with them. He was so indignant, so
-hurt, so unhappy, that he refused to speak to his old acquaintances,
-and gradually they fell off from him, and a coldness sprang up which
-made his life a misery. Still, he and all that were bound to him
-cherished the hope that when Joshua came home all would be cleared up.
-But Mr. Marvel made up his mind that he would never forgive his
-neighbors for their suspicions. Months passed, and the estrangement
-between him and his acquaintances grew stronger; his home, too, was
-not a happy one. He grew morose and ill-tempered, and would not speak
-to his wife upon the subject of Joshua and Minnie; and when she found
-that he was determined upon this point, she wisely forbore to press
-him, knowing his nature.
-
-Before the advent of another spring, Ellen became a mother. Her
-situation had been concealed from all but Dan and Mrs. Marvel; even
-Mr. Marvel did not know it until the child was born. It was a girl;
-and when the news was buzzed about the neighborhood, Joshua and Minnie
-started again into a notoriety which had been on the wane. Again the
-busybodies were at work, and again the busy tongues wagged more
-volubly than before. It was a matter for resentment with the neighbors
-that they had not been made acquainted with Ellen's situation; it was
-depriving them of a legitimate privilege. But Ellen and her two
-confidants had kept the secret well; and now the young mother nursed
-her child in privacy, and seemed only anxious to keep it from prying
-and unsympathizing eyes. No news had been received of Joshua or of his
-ship; and although Mr. Marvel went every other day to the London
-agents of the "Merry Andrew," they had nothing to tell him. Now that
-the child was born, their anxiety for news of Joshua increased. But
-still they received none. Weeks passed, months passed, until the
-suspense became almost maddening. Ellen nursed the baby, and rejoiced
-that the pretty little thing had Joshua's eyes, and yearned for Joshua
-to see them. Mr. Marvel looked more angrily upon his old
-acquaintances, who were ready to quarrel with him afresh for his sour
-looks. Mrs. Marvel suffered in patience, and strove by assumed
-cheerfulness to lighten the loads the others had to bear. Susan waited
-and watched. And Dan waited and hoped--When there came a time!--
-
-Ellen was in Mrs. Marvel's kitchen; her baby was in her lap, and she
-was gazing at and worshipping, for the thousandth thousandth time, the
-baby's beautiful eyes, and beautiful fingers and nails, and the round
-cheeks, and the pretty mouth and chin, so like Joshua's. It was
-evening, and Mr. Marvel was expected home every minute, with news
-from the agents about Joshua's ship. Ellen began singing this to
-baby--singing in a low soft voice how father would soon come from over
-the seas to see his own little darling--his dear darling precious; and
-she was in the midst of this, enriching the theme with twenty
-different forms of endearing expression, when Mr. Marvel staggered
-into the kitchen. There was a wild look in his face, and his hands
-were trembling. He was drunk.
-
-"O father!" cried Ellen.
-
-"Where's mother?" he asked in a husky voice. "Where's mother?" he
-repeated in a louder tone.
-
-His wife answered the question by coming into the kitchen. She had
-seen him reel into the house, and had followed him at once. She knew
-he had been drinking, but she did not reproach him. He saw in her face
-the knowledge and the forbearance, and he said,--
-
-"Yes, I've been drinking; I was bound to. O mother, mother! how shall
-I tell you?"
-
-Her lips framed some words, but she could not utter them. She sank
-into a chair and gazed at him with blanched cheek, with quivering
-lips, with blurred eyes.
-
-Hush, baby, hush! you have never seen your father's face, and you do
-not understand now what one day will be told you--what George Marvel
-has had to drink brandy to give him courage to tell his faithful
-wife--
-
-That the good ship, the "Merry Andrew," has foundered, and that every
-soul on board, Joshua and Minnie included, has gone down to the bottom
-of the sea. Not one saved--not one.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVIII.
-ON BOARD THE "MERRY ANDREW."
-
-
-While the "Merry Andrew" was lying at Blackwell taking in cargo, Capt.
-Liddle, like the shrewd captain he was, had caused it to be notified
-that he would be happy to take a certain number of passengers to the
-New World at fifty pounds per head. It happened, as it usually happens
-in such like cases, that just at that time the exact number of persons
-that the ship could accommodate found either that Great Britain was
-too crowded for them to move freely in, or that at length the hour had
-arrived for them to make a fresh start in life. The captain of the
-"Merry Andrew" offered them the necessary opportunity. His ship would
-take them to a country where they would be able to turn without being
-elbowed. And there was no doubt that the start they contemplated would
-be a fresh one, inasmuch as in the new land their heads would be where
-their feet were now, and night was day and day night, and cherries
-grew with their stones outside, and many other wonders were
-commonplaces of every-day life. Accordingly, these enterprising souls,
-much to Capt. Liddle's satisfaction, paid their fifty pounds per head
-for four months of quiet misery on the sea. By that stroke of business
-Capt. Liddle served two purposes. He put money in his pocket as chief
-owner of the vessel, and he provided society for his wife, who was to
-accompany him on the voyage. Mrs. Liddle was a cheerful little body,
-who, although she was thirty years of age, had as much sentiment as a
-tender-hearted miss of eighteen. Her engagement with Capt. Liddle had
-been a long one. It was now more than twelve years since she first saw
-him and fell in love with him, as he did with her; but she happened to
-be blessed in a father who entertained not uncommon ideas as to the
-value of money, and as to the difference it made in a man, especially
-in a man who presumed to fall in love with his daughter. At that time
-Capt. Liddle was only second mate, and his matrimonial overtures were
-pooh-poohed by Capt. Prue, which was the name and title of his wife's
-father; Bessie Prue was hers. Capt. Prue (retired from the service)
-declared that he loved sailors and loved the sea, and that nothing
-would please him better than that his Bessie should marry a sailor.
-But then, that sailor must be a captain, he declared, and that captain
-must be absolute owner of the ship he commanded. Having passed the
-principal part of his life on sea, in a position where his word was
-law, he was, as most old sea-captains are, intolerant of opposition.
-Having given the word, he would not depart from it. Consequently,
-second-mate Liddle found that all his arguments and rhapsodies were as
-wind--a fluid which is much more useful at sea than on land, however
-it is produced. Bessie, as it proved, possessed a goodly share of her
-old father's determination of character. Having fallen in love with
-second-mate Liddle, and having determined to marry him or die an old
-maid, she informed her lover that if he would be faithful to her, she
-would be faithful to him--a form of declaration which has been very
-popular from time immemorial. The pledge being sealed by the
-infatuated ones in the usual manner--that is, with much protestation,
-with much unnecessary solemnity, (as if they were doomed to execution,
-and were to be beheaded within a few hours), with many kisses and
-tender embracings--Bessie went to her father and apprised him,
-melodramatically, of her determination.
-
-"You wouldn't marry without my consent?" was the obstinate old
-captain's question, after a little consideration. They were absurdly
-happy, these two determined persons. Bessie was the apple of his eye,
-the pride of his heart; she had not a wish, except the wish
-matrimonial, that he would not have made any sacrifice to satisfy.
-"You wouldn't marry without my consent, my pretty?" he repeated
-anxiously, for she did not answer his question immediately.
-
-"I won't, on one condition," replied Bessie categorically; "and that
-is, that you won't ask me or wish me, or try to persuade me to marry
-anybody but John Liddle; for I love him with all my heart, and I
-wouldn't give him up--no, not to be made Lord High Admiral."
-
-"I give you my promise, my pretty," said Capt. Prue, secretly admiring
-his daughter's determination, and loving her the more for it; "I'll
-never ask you, nor wish you, nor try to persuade you to marry anybody
-but John Liddle."
-
-It may be guessed how willingly the old sea-captain gave the pledge,
-when it is known that he looked forward with absolute dread to the
-time when Bessie might be taken from him to another home. He would
-give her any thing, help her to anything but a husband. What right had
-any body else to her? Why, the ship would go on the rocks without her
-"And when John Liddle is skipper and owns a ship," he added, "I'll
-give my consent free and willing." In which last words Capt. Prue was
-not quite ingenuous. But the compact was made and adhered to.
-Second-mate Liddle was informed of it, and was compelled to abide by it.
-He trusted to chance, as many other men, not lovers, have done before
-him; and he derived consolation from the thought, that when Capt. Prue
-and Bessie pledged their word, it would need something very
-extraordinary and unlooked-for to induce them to break it. He rose
-from second mate to first mate, from first mate to skipper; and when
-he returned from his voyages, he found Bessie faithful and true, and
-received a hearty welcome from her father. And during these long and
-many years of probation, he learned to love his true-hearted little
-woman more deeply than he had done at first; she taught him to
-understand what love really was; she taught him the true beauty of it,
-the holiness of it--that it was something more than a sentiment,
-something higher than a passion; she taught him to understand that it
-was a sacrament.
-
-It seems fated for this story, that its narration should necessitate,
-for the most part, the depicting of the higher virtues, and what is
-most noble and self-sacrificing in our natures. But it should be none
-the less acceptable because of that.
-
-A short time after Bessie's lover became skipper, a relative of his
-died, and left him some money. Directly he came into possession of it,
-he bought a share in the "Merry Andrew." Bessie was then twenty-six
-years of age, as pretty as ever, and as fresh at heart as ever. One
-would have thought that her father would have spoken to her of his own
-accord, there and then, and that he would have given her the reward of
-her faithfulness and devotion. But the truth must be told; he was a
-selfish old curmudgeon, and he trembled at the thought of losing her.
-So once more Capt. Liddle sailed away from his lady-love on the voyage
-in which our Joshua commenced his apprenticeship at sea. The "Merry
-Andrew" was away, as you know, for more than four years; and when it
-returned, and Capt. Liddle went to see his Bessie, he found her in
-mourning. Her father was dead. Before he died he had made her the only
-reparation in his power. The last codicil to his will, written a few
-weeks before his death, contained expressions of his love for her, his
-admiration of her lover, his consent to their marriage, and his regret
-that he had not consented to it years ago. But it is so easy to regret
-_after_ a thing has occurred which we might have prevented or
-remedied. I have not yet made up my mind as to the value of deathbed
-repentance. Neither am I satisfied that we may sin properly for six
-days in the week, in a comfortable knowledge that we can evade the
-penalty by crying, "I have sinned!" on the sabbath.
-
-However, the departed Captain Prue had been in all other respects a
-kind and tender father, and no word of reproach passed the lips of
-Bessie and John Liddle. They were not too old for the enjoyment of
-life's blessings. Two months before the present sailing of the "Merry
-Andrew" they were married; and it is not to be doubted that the
-circumstances of their engagement promised them a lasting happiness.
-
-Mrs. Liddle had a maid, a beautiful brown-complexioned girl, whose
-appearance might have suggested some suspicion of a gypsy breed, had
-it not been for her manners, which showed a refinement no gypsy-girl
-could have acquired in her vagrant life, and for her eyes, which were
-gray despite their brightness. The circumstances of her becoming Mrs.
-Liddle's maid were somewhat peculiar. She had presented herself to
-that lady a few days before the "Merry Andrew" sailed, and stating
-that she had heard by accident that Mrs. Liddle wanted a maid to
-accompany her on the voyage, asked to be engaged in that capacity.
-There was something so winsome about the girl, that Mrs. Liddle--who
-had not succeeded in engaging a maid willing to brave the terrors of a
-sea-voyage--was at once attracted to her, and lent a sympathizing ear
-to her story of being alone in the world and without friends. Perhaps
-it was Mrs. Liddle's romantic happiness that caused her to be less
-prudent than usual; but certain it is that the girl was engaged, and,
-setting about her duties at once, proved so apt and attentive, that
-Mrs. Liddle congratulated herself upon her decision. Captain Liddle
-did not interfere in the matter; but when he first saw the girl her
-face seemed familiar to him, and he glanced at her more than once,
-wondering where he had met her. But he could not settle the doubt, and
-the matter was not of sufficient importance to permanently engage his
-attention. Thus it was that Minnie succeeded in obtaining a passage in
-the "Merry Andrew," and in being near to the man who was dearer to her
-than all other earthly considerations. She was not influenced by any
-dishonoring passion; she simply desired not to be parted from the man
-she loved. She did not want him to see her or speak to her--at least,
-so she thought at that time; it was sufficient for her to know that
-she was in the same ship with him, and that she would perhaps now and
-again catch a glimpse of her hero, without his knowing that she was
-by. When she first made up her mind to leave her home, she did not
-pause to consider what would be the consequences of her rash act. She
-was unhappy there and utterly miserable; everybody was against her;
-and when she discovered, as she did discover, that Susan was playing
-the spy upon her, she became defiant and more resolved. She loved her
-father and honored him; but she loved Joshua with all the passion of
-her passionate nature, and in her mistaken sense of right and wrong,
-the stronger love usurped the place of duty, and made her oblivious of
-all else. She was blinded by love, and by love in which there was not
-a shade of impure passion.
-
-She had had at first a wild idea of dressing herself in sailor's
-clothes, and had saved a few shillings towards the purchasing of them;
-but her success with Mrs. Liddle set that aside. When she went on to
-the ship with her mistress, she was careful that Joshua should not see
-her; but indeed, if they had met face to face at that time, it is not
-likely that he would have recognized her in her disguise; for his
-thoughts were with Ellen, and his heart was too full as yet to be
-curious about the passengers. But the Lascar saw her, and was puzzled
-about her directly he set eyes upon her face. He watched her like a
-cat, and yet he could not make up his mind about her. He had seen her
-often in Stepney, but he could scarcely believe that the fair girl
-with the beautiful hair and this dark gypsy with the short curls were
-one and the same. He knew her name and all about her from Solomon
-Fewster, and he was quite ready to believe in the villainy of Joshua.
-Resolved to make sure of the value of his suspicions, he contrived to
-pass close by her as she was taking some bandboxes down stairs to the
-saloon, and as he passed her, he muttered the name of "Minnie
-Kindred." A start, a frightened look over her shoulders, and the
-dropping of the bandboxes down the stairs, were sufficient
-confirmation of his doubts; and before the pilot left the ship he gave
-him a scrawl for Solomon Fewster to the effect that Joshua and Minnie
-had run away together. He was cautious enough also to send upon
-another piece of paper a private scrawl to Solomon Fewster, saying he
-was not quite sure, but that Fewster would know how to act if Minnie
-were missing from home.
-
-But when the Lascar next saw Minnie's face, which was not until the
-"Merry Andrew" was a thousand miles the other side of the Bay of
-Biscay, his doubts returned, and he thought that, after all, he must
-have been mistaken. He did not know the cunning of Minnie. In the
-startled glance she had thrown over her shoulder when her name was
-pronounced, she had marked the Lascar's face, so that she was sure she
-would know it again; and when, after the lapse of weeks, she detected
-him gazing at at her, she looked at him so boldly and contemptuously
-that he drooped his eyes before her. What added to his perplexity was,
-that he never saw Joshua speak to her, never saw him look at her. When
-she came on deck, which she did very rarely, and never unless her duty
-to her mistress called her there, she was careful not to give Joshua
-an opportunity of speaking to her or of looking closely at her; and
-he, detecting in her manner a wish to avoid any little attention he
-might have it in his mind to offer her, did not trouble himself even
-by giving her a thought. She was as distant and reserved to all the
-officers; and in a little while it began to be understood, that the
-handsome gypsy-maid did not wish to be spoken to by any one on board
-but her mistress; and her wish was scrupulously respected.
-
-To readers who are not well acquainted with ship-life, it may seem
-strange that Minnie should have been able to keep herself so free from
-observation; but there really can be--and there often is--as much
-exclusiveness on board a passenger-ship as there is in society on
-land. You may live in a ship for months, and travel for thousands upon
-thousands of miles over the seemingly interminable waste of waters,
-without having any more personal knowledge of those who sleep within a
-few yards of you than you would have of them if you and they were
-living at the extreme ends of a great city. When the long, long voyage
-is at an end, and the ship is being piloted into the bay that skirts
-the land of Pisgah, men and women whom you do not remember ever to
-have seen before appear magically on deck; and you wonder where they
-come from, and how it is you have not set eyes on them during all the
-time that you and they have been living in the wonderful house of wood
-and iron that has brought you safely over the raging seas.
-
-Joshua knew the Lascar directly he saw him on board, and was not
-pleased to find that he was one of the crew. But the man did his duty,
-and worked as well and apparently as willingly as the other sailors;
-and as he was uniformly respectful, Joshua could not, even if he had
-been so inclined, treat him harshly with any sense of justice.
-
-And so the "Merry Andrew," containing within its wooden walls its load
-of human love and hate, cleaves through the ocean onward to its goal
-steadily and patiently, while before it, with every new rising of the
-sun, a monotonous hill of waters, never varying, never changing, lies
-in the gray distance mocking its progress. Through cold weather,
-through hot weather, burnt up in the torrid zone, and chilled by winds
-which rush from ice-bound waters; through days when scarce a ripple
-can be seen on the grand ocean's breast, and others when the waves
-leap at its throat furiously, as an enemy might do; through nights
-when the moon rises threateningly in the heavens, like a blazing ball
-of lurid fire, suggesting thoughts of a dreadful to-morrow; and
-through dark nights, solemnly beautiful, when the track of the vessel
-is marked by the brilliant Medusæ (the sailor's girdle of Venus) which
-gleam and shine--a line of living light--in the wondrous sea: through
-all these, with unerring faith, the ship pursues its way steadily and
-patiently to the garden of the world. Now the captain smells the
-breeze, and hoarse cries, unintelligible to all but the initiated,
-travel about the ship to clap on sail and make good use of the breath
-of Boreas. Then the ship dashes on like a god drunk with joy, dives
-into awful depths, and climbs water-mountains that a moment ago
-threatened to fall in upon it and dash it to pieces. The curling seas
-break over the deck, and the toilers that are battling with wind and
-wave cling fast for dear life to ropes and spars; while ever and anon
-a water-titan, more angry than his fellows, breaks against the side
-with such tremendous force that the vessel reels and quivers beneath
-the mighty shock. So! the breeze slackens and dies away; the anger of
-the sea subsides, and after many days the ship is becalmed. Then the
-passengers lie about the white deck in happy indolence, and muse and
-dream of the great whale they saw a while ago, hung round with
-sea-weed and barnacles; of the cloudless night, star-gemmed above and
-below; of the beautiful Southern Cross and the strange Magellan
-clouds; and while they muse and dream, the white sky stares down
-lazily into blue peaceful waters. Every one on board is contented with
-the change, excepting the skipper, who paces the deck restlessly and
-prays for the breeze to spring up--taking advantage of the calm,
-however, like the good skipper he is, to splice ropes, and make new
-sails and mend old ones. Soon wind and water wake into life again, and
-the waves sparkle, and the fresh breeze blows merrily, when a sudden
-cry rings through the ship that a man is overboard. The next moment
-every soul on board is bending over the bulwarks, watching the
-retreating form of the sailor who is floating on his back, gazing with
-agonizing dread at the cruel beaks of the swan-white albatrosses,
-which are already hovering above him. Quickly the ship is put about; a
-boat, with rowers in it, is lowered into the sea; and after the lapse
-of many anxious moments a wild cheer rings through the air, as the man
-saved from death, is dragged into the boat. He tells afterwards to
-eager listeners--he is a notable man on board from that day forth--how
-it seemed to him that he was floating on his back for full a day, and
-how the only fear he felt was that the albatrosses would pick out his
-eyes. Then the following week a young man died who was in a
-consumption when he was first brought on to the ship, and who had
-hoped that the warm breezes of the South would give him a new lease of
-life; but he was never to breathe the balmy southern air. The little
-colony of human beings is very sad when the funeral service is read
-over the body, and the canvas coffin slips with a dull thud into the
-sea; and a fear arises that some calamity is near. And surely that
-night there is a fearful storm. The wind howls and roars; heavy seas
-dash down the two men at the wheel; the sails split into a thousand
-shreds; masts and spars crack like reeds. The sobs and lamentations of
-the passengers are dreadful to bear. Minnie, creeping from her cabin
-into the saloon, sees a dozen men and women, half-dressed, on their
-knees, praying for mercy and forgiveness, making vows of reformation,
-and indulging in all the fear-impelled evidences of a suddenly
-awakened contrition. Pursued by the conviction that in a few minutes
-she and all in the ship will meet their doom, she yearns with all her
-soul to see Joshua, to touch him, to whisper in his ear that Minnie is
-by his side. Then, if he will but take her hand, she will be content
-to go down with him into the solemn depths of the awful sea. She
-creeps to the wet stairs leading to the deck, only to find that the
-hatches are fastened down, and that she is a prisoner. She tears at
-the cruel door that separates her from Joshua, until her fingers bleed
-and her strength gives way. She calls aloud to him, but she cannot
-hear her own voice, so weak is it and so overwhelming is the roar of
-the storm. She sinks, despairing, at the foot of the stairs, and in
-the agony of her mind and the terror of the time so entirely loses
-consciousness, that the cold waters which steal down the hatchway are
-powerless to arouse her. But with the next rising of the sun the storm
-has passed away, and the captain looks joyful, and the sailors sing
-blithely at their work, and the passengers forget their vows of
-reformation. So the ship sails on and on, until land is sighted, and
-the passengers begin to prepare their best clothes to go on shore in.
-Then comes a quiet evening when the "Merry Andrew" drops quietly down
-the beautiful bay, and as evening deepens into night, a thousand
-twinkling lights from distant hills welcome the wanderers and gladden
-their hearts. How peaceful, how lovely, is the night! The balmy air,
-the restful sound of dipping oars, the floating strains of music that
-come from a neighboring ship, the beautiful star-lit waters--all these
-bring grateful feelings to weary travellers, and silent prayers of
-thankfulness arise to Heaven for the mercy that has brought them
-safely through the perils of the mighty sea.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXIX.
-THE WRECK OF THE "MERRY ANDREW."
-
-
-Built in the bed of a beautiful valley and on gardened slopes rising
-from the waters which run to the sea, lies Sydney, the fair city of
-the South. It is spring although the month is October. The heavens are
-bright with bright clouds, the air is sweet with perfume from tree and
-flower, the bay is gemmed with gardened isles and promontories.
-Outside the heads which protect the bay and make it a safe refuge for
-mighty fleets, the sea dashes against hoary rocks which stand defiant
-of its wrath; but to-day, swayed by the influence of smiling sun and
-cloud, the grim old walls sport with the huge waves, splinter them
-into silver spray, and send them, laughing, back into the sea.
-In the fair land girt by the blue waters of the South Pacific are
-orange-groves, the fragrance of whose snow-white blossoms is in
-harmony with the time and place, and coral-trees with bright scarlet
-flower, and trees of peach, loquat, and bread, and hill-slopes where
-the vines grow, and myriad other evidences of Nature's beneficence.
-All things that see the light contribute to the beauty of spring.
-
-"'Tis the garden of the world," said Captain Liddle to his wife, as
-they stood apart from the others on board the "Merry Andrew;" "'tis
-the garden of the world," he repeated, gazing at the lovely hills and
-gloriously-tinted sky with that sense of gratitude which it is so good
-for a man to experience.
-
-Her thoughts were in harmony with his, but she did not answer him
-immediately. She, too, was sensible of the beautiful scene around
-them, and stood by his side in silent thankfulness. To-morrow, the
-"Merry Andrew," having discharged her cargo, and taken in another
-(chiefly hard wood), was to set sail for China, where she had a
-charter for London. It was of London--of home--that the captain's wife
-was thinking, and presently her thoughts found simple expression.
-
-"Yes, John," she said; "it is indeed a garden--a beautiful garden; but
-it is not home."
-
-"Why now, Bessie," said the captain, looking down smilingly upon the
-wife he had waited and worked for as anxiously as Jacob did for
-Rachel, "could you not content yourself here?"
-
-"All my life, John?"
-
-"All your life, my dear."
-
-"No," she said without hesitation; "I should always be pining for
-home. Even if we were poor, and it were a necessity that we should
-live here, I don't think I could manage to quite content myself. But
-as it is"--
-
-"As it is, Bessie"--repeated her husband, in secret delight at his
-wife's enthusiasm.
-
-"As it is, John," she responded softly, "'there's no place like
-home.'"
-
-Captain Liddle hummed a few bars of the Englishman's household hymn;
-and then, looking to that part of the ship where Joshua was busy,
-said: "There is some one on board, Bessie, who is even more anxious to
-get home than you are."
-
-"Who can that be, John?"
-
-"My handsome mate, as you call him, Joshua Marvel. He was expressing
-his delight to me yesterday that we should be not away longer than we
-thought we should when we started. And when I asked him what made him
-so impatient to get home, he told me that he was married three days
-before we left Gravesend. How would _you_ have liked that?"
-
-"I wouldn't have allowed you to go," said Mrs. Liddle, with a very
-positive shake of the head.
-
-"Easily said, little woman; not so easily managed, though, if I had
-been third mate instead of captain. Thank your stars that you married
-a captain."
-
-"So I do, John," said Mrs. Liddle tenderly--so tenderly, that her
-husband would have stooped and kissed her, if they had been alone.
-"Was it a love-match?"
-
-"Marvel's? Certainly, I should say. When I went to his house in London
-to see him, I saw a very beautiful girl in his room. Perhaps it is to
-her that he is married."
-
-"Very beautiful, sir?" exclaimed Mrs. Liddle, with a toss of her head.
-"I am almost inclined to take you to task for that; but I'll ask you,
-instead, to describe her."
-
-"I can't, Bess; 'tis not in my line. I tell you what, though: your
-maid would be like her, if she was fair instead of brown, and if she
-had long hair."
-
-"Making eyes at my maid, sir!" cried Mrs. Liddle, with a pretty
-wilfulness. "When I get you home, I shall lock you up."
-
-Captain Liddle laughed, and pinched his wife's cheek.
-
-"I am glad it was a love-match," she said; "I like Mr. Marvel all the
-better for that. You ought to do something for him."
-
-"I shouldn't be surprised, Bessie, if Marvel was second mate on our
-next voyage," was the captain's reply. "Now go and see to the stowing
-away of your curiosities."
-
-During the time that the "Merry Andrew" had been lying in Sydney
-Harbor, Mrs. Liddle and her gypsy maid had been living on shore, and
-had only come on board today. Her husband's last remark referred to a
-number of parcels which were scattered about the poop, containing
-curiosities she had collected in that strange new world--such as
-feathers and skins, and curious weapons and plants--designed to
-astonish her friends at home.
-
-Captain Liddle's intention to promote Joshua had been quietly
-whispered by the sailors to one another for some weeks past, although
-the captain, from motives of prudence and a proper regard for
-discipline, had made no mention of his intention, even to his wife,
-until now. Captain Liddle respected Joshua, and often engaged him in
-familiar conversation. He saw much to admire in the young sailor, and
-recognized in him qualities, both intellectual and professional, of a
-far higher standard than those exhibited by his other officers. A
-sailor more deeply impressed than Joshua was with the highest
-qualification a sailor can possess, duty, never walked the deck of a
-ship; and this merit, added to a quick natural intelligence, made him
-a great favorite with Captain Liddle. He was much liked, also, by the
-sailors; for while his sense of duty made him firm, his kindliness of
-heart made him gentle. Sailors resemble women in one particular: the
-more they respect a man, the better they like him. Joshua, however,
-had two bitter enemies on board: one was the Lascar, who was compelled
-to conceal his hate; other was the second mate, Scadbolt by name, who
-made no secret of his animosity. Scadbolt, being both an inefficient
-officer and one who liked to shirk his work, had been sharply spoken
-to by Captain Liddle on several occasions. From this may have sprung
-the rumor of his intended deposition; and when it reached his ears, it
-made him venomous. Between Scadbolt and the Lascar about this time
-there sprang up a kind of intelligence with regard to Joshua, which
-boded him no good if he should chance to get into their power. No
-conversation passed between them on the subject; but each knew
-instinctively that the other hated the upstart third mate of the
-"Merry Andrew."
-
-With his usual foresight and shrewdness, Captain Liddle had announced
-his readiness to take a small number of passengers to China, or to
-London by way of China--rather a roundabout route home, it must be
-confessed, but one which recommended itself to certain colonists from
-its novelty, and from the opportunity it afforded them of seeing
-something of the wonderful land where so many Sons of the Moon lived
-and had their being. Captain Liddle knew what he was about by stating
-that he could provide accommodation for only a few passengers, for
-only a few took passage. Here is the way-bill:--
-
-Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon and daughter, the latter five years of age.
-
-Mr. Bracegirdle.
-
-Stephen and Rachel Homebush, brother and sister.
-
-James Heartsease.
-Harry Wall.
-
-Rough-and-Ready.
-
-So that there were nine passengers in all, including little Emma
-Pigeon.
-
-The crew numbered twenty-eight persons, all told; and these, with the
-passengers and the captain's wife and her maid, made the total number
-of souls on board thirty-nine.
-
-Mr. Pigeon was the son of a wealthy squatter, who had lately died.
-Desirous of giving his wife and child better advantages than could be
-obtained in the colony, he had sold out his property, and was now on
-his way home, for the purpose of settling in the "old country." He was
-a rough kind of a gentleman at the best, as might be expected of one
-who had been brought up in the bush; but he had a tender heart, and
-was passionately devoted to his wife and child. Mrs. Pigeon was a
-sparkling little creature, full of life and bustle, never still, and
-with a laugh so merry and contagious, that every soul on board felt
-glad when it was first heard on the ship. Little Emma, as the child
-was called, was a small edition of her mother, with precisely the same
-natural gayety of disposition. The family were in high glee at the
-prospect of going "home" (even Little Emma, born in the bush, had been
-taught so to call it), and found in the pleasures of imagination some
-compensation for the natural sorrow they felt in leaving the bright
-and beautiful land of the South.
-
-Mr. Bracegirdle was a mystery. No one knew any thing about him; and as
-no one inquired, and he was not communicative, his antecedents could
-only be guessed at.
-
-Stephen and Rachel Homebush were a hard-featured morose-looking
-couple, whose piety was generally recognized as unimpeachable, but
-whose good-nature was certainly open to question. And this induces the
-reflection, that it is singular how often piety and sourness go hand
-in hand. It almost seems as if, with the majority of so-called pious
-people, religious contemplation chills the generous impulse, and
-hardens the heart instead of softening it. The light of truth falls on
-them not like dew, but like a miasma.
-
-James Heartsease and Harry Wall are bracketed in the way-bill, as they
-were bracketed in heart. They were friends who had travelled together
-all over the world. They were enthusiastic sketchers; and it was
-whispered that they were writing a book, which caused them to be
-looked up to with a kind of veneration.
-
-Rough-and-Ready was as great a mystery as Mr. Bracegirdle, but whereas
-nothing was known of Mr. Bracegirdle's antecedents, so many stories
-were current concerning Rough-and-Ready, that the difficulty was to
-hit upon the right one. None of them were at all creditable to him.
-One story was, that he was a bushranger; another, that he was a
-stockman, who had shot down any number of blacks; another, that he was
-a runaway convict. The name he chose to go by fitted any one or all of
-these stories. He engaged his passage in the name of Mr. Rough; but
-before he had been on board half an hour, every sailor knew him as
-Rough-and-Ready. The lady passengers cast cold looks upon him; but the
-sailors adored him; and he, taking the aversion of the women and the
-admiration of the men very philosophically, was as much at home on
-board the "Merry Andrew" as the captain himself. Captain Liddle saw
-nothing objectionable in Rough-and-Ready. He was prone, as you know,
-to form his own judgments of people, and was one of the small minority
-of men in the world who decline to be led by the nose. There was
-nothing very smooth or polished about Rough-and-Ready, as was implied
-by his name; but he had a bright eye, a free manner, and a civil
-tongue--sufficient recommendations to Captain Liddle's good favor.
-
-At the appointed time the "Merry Andrew" weighed anchor, and started
-for China. Joshua rubbed his hands, and thought with a light heart of
-his pretty Ellen and his friend Dan, and his old mother and father,
-and that good friend the Old Sailor. He saw himself walking along the
-familiar street in Stepney, and saw all the neighbors running out to
-greet him, and saw Ellen, his own dear little wife, fluttering into
-his arms, and nestling there as prettily as could be. What wonder that
-his face grew bright, and that he went about his work with a
-cheerfulness that brought a darker scowl into the face of the Lascar!
-This worthy had not advanced a single step towards the furtherance of
-the scheme to which he had in a sort of measure pledged himself to
-Solomon Fewster before he left Gravesend. True, he had gone on board
-the "Merry Andrew" with the vaguest of ideas as to the manner in which
-he should be able to carry out his intentions regarding Joshua. The
-fact was, that he had been only anxious to get away from England for a
-time; the brawl in which he had been engaged and had used his knife
-was a serious one, and he was frightened for his own safety. But he
-had played his cards cunningly with Solomon Fewster, and had succeeded
-in extracting money and valuables from his cowardly master; thus
-providing for his safety, and putting money in his purse at the same
-time. Joshua had kept a sharp eye upon him during the whole of the
-voyage, and he was compelled to be careful and wary for he knew that
-Joshua was a favorite with the captain, and that he would be clapped
-in irons upon the first sign of insubordination. Then he was
-disappointed in finding that not another sailor on board but himself
-owed Joshua a grudge, or was envious of him; so that he was alone in
-his hate until that instinctive understanding took place between him
-and the second mate Scadbolt, which made Joshua a mark for their
-mutual animosity. The Lascar would have dearly liked to do Joshua an
-ill turn; but he could not see his way to the accomplishment of his
-wish. But even from this thwarting of his desire he derived a kind of
-malicious satisfaction; for he could not help thinking with pleasure
-of the dismay and disappointment Solomon Fewster would experience when
-Joshua came home safe and sound. He could not help chuckling to
-himself as he thought, "What a way he'll be in when the 'Merry Andrew'
-gets into Blackwall, and how he'll storm and swear! But he'd better
-mind what he's about with me. I owe him one for that threat of giving
-me into custody for stealing the things he gave me." Certainly no such
-sentiment as "Honor among thieves" found place in the breast of the
-Lascar.
-
-And Minnie? She had not calculated the effect of living within
-herself, as she had been compelled to do. Loving Joshua as she did
-with all her heart and soul, she had deceived herself by believing
-that she would be happy if she were only in the ship with him. Happy
-she would have been, had he known her and spoken kindly to her; but
-the gulf that divided them seemed to her to be wider than it would
-have been had thousands of miles of ocean been between them. She had
-time for reflection on board ship; and reflection, although it did not
-turn the current of her love, nor lessen it, added to her misery. At
-one time during the voyage she had been so unhappy that she was almost
-on the point of throwing herself overboard; and indeed had she known
-of the marriage between Joshua and Ellen she might really have done
-so. Happily for her she was not aware of the marriage, and was spared
-the contemplated sin. But she was on a rack of love and doubt, and was
-truly unhappy in the present, and despairing in the future. She went
-about her work in a dull mechanical way, keeping aloof from every one,
-and never going on deck unless her duties called her there. Mrs.
-Liddle saw that the poor girl was miserable, and questioned her. But
-here Minnie's rebellious nature came into play; she shut her heart
-against the proffered sympathy, and returned cold answers to her
-mistress's kind questions. Mrs. Liddle was sorry, but not offended;
-she saw that the girl was struggling with a great grief. "A love
-affair, depend upon it John," she said to her husband; and she
-respected Minnie's desire not to have her confidence openly intruded
-upon. Minnie's behavior on board inspired Mrs. Liddle with the
-conviction that her maid was a thoroughly good girl, and she could
-overlook a great deal in a girl who behaved so well. And
-notwithstanding Minnie's retired behavior, she was an object of
-interest to all. The officers and sailors called her "the shy beauty,"
-"the pretty gypsy-maid," "the brown-faced little beauty;" and, when
-she came towards them with her eyes downcast, made way for her with
-almost as much deference as they did for the captain's wife. But she
-spoke no word to any one of them, and lived her life of self-imposed
-isolation in grief and silence.
-
-The wind was fair, and a favorable voyage was anticipated. Sail after
-sail was clapped on, and Captain Liddle walked up and down the deck
-with a beaming face and in a state of high satisfaction. Five of the
-passengers were below in the first agonies of sea-sickness. Four were
-on deck--the two friends, James Heartsease and Harry Wall, Stephen
-Homebush, and Rough-and-Ready. The friends had travelled too many
-thousands of miles upon the ocean to be troubled by sea-sickness now;
-they had struggled with and vanquished that fell enemy years ago.
-Rough-and-Ready was not the sort of man to give in; he treated
-sea-sickness as he treated every thing else that came to him in a
-threatening shape--he laughed in its face. Perhaps previous experience
-enabled him to do so with impunity. Stephen Homebush was not so
-fortunate. He had a large stock of bile, and (speaking after the
-manner of a well-known great man) when he had got rid of a great deal,
-he would have a great deal left. He certainly got rid of a great deal
-upon this occasion; and accustomed as he was to wrestle against
-yearnings of the flesh and terrible foes, this foe was too powerful
-for him, and this yearning of the flesh sent him into a deep pit of
-tribulation from which he saw no chance of escape. Some kind friend
-had advised him not to go below when he was attacked; and in
-accordance with that advice he remained on deck, possessed by a spirit
-so fiendish as not only to set at naught the pious exhortations of the
-worthy Stephen, but even to change words of piety into utterances that
-sounded very like anathemas. Even in the midst of his agony, he looked
-round for some one, as was his wont in his happier moods, upon whom to
-pour the vials of his spleen; for Stephen Homebush had this peculiar
-conviction with respect to himself. His invariable verdict when
-tribulation visited other persons was, that it was a just
-punishment--it was a visitation of the Lord. But there was no such
-acknowledgment regarding any vexation by which he was afflicted. In
-that case his opinion was, that he was suffering for the sins of
-others, and the conviction was to him a sufficient proof of his own
-worthiness and of the wickedness and unworthiness of every other
-person. He looked round for some one on whom to vent his spleen; but
-no person met his eye but Rough-and-Ready, whose merry face and
-cheerful manner were an additional sting to the miserable Stephen.
-Rough-and-Ready nodded encouragingly to the pale-faced Stephen, who
-was leaning against the bulwarks, and said cheerfully, and really from
-no ill-natured motive--
-
-"You will be better by and by, Mr. Homebush. Besides, it will do you
-good."
-
-These last words were unfortunately chosen; for the afflicted
-Stephen--who had heard the discreditable stories attached to
-Rough-and-Ready, and who had already judged him as a sinner of the
-first magnitude--glared at the speaker, and said with difficulty,
-"Scoffer, sinner!"
-
-He intended to add, "Repent!" but a sudden paroxysm compelled him to
-confide that exhortation to the waves.
-
-Rough-and-Ready laughed gayly, and turning on his heel, met the
-captain, and fell into step with him.
-
-"Some of the sailors are grumbling," observed Rough-and-Ready,
-"because we have set sail on a Friday."
-
-"Grumble!" exclaimed Captain Liddle, pettishly. "Ay, and they'll
-grumble till the end of the voyage. I have had that sort of thing
-occur to me before. This is the fifth time I have started on a Friday,
-and nothing more unusual ever occurred than occurred at any other
-time. But the men wouldn't believe it, and won't believe it now. If a
-head-wind comes, it is because we set sail on a Friday; if we're
-becalmed, because we set sail on a Friday; if there's a squall,
-because we set sail on a Friday; if a man tumbles overboard,
-because we set sail on a Friday; if we lose a spar, if a sail is
-split, because we set sail on a Friday. I do believe, if one of
-them cuts his finger, he thinks, 'Curse the skipper! What the
-something unmentionable did he set sail on a Friday for?'"
-
-"I have no doubt, skipper," said Rough-and-Ready, smiling and pointing
-to Stephen Homebush, whose head was hanging over the bulwarks, as if
-its owner were curiously interested in the swelling of the waves,
-"that Mr. Homebush is quite ready to side with the men, and to declare
-that he is sea-sick because you set sail on a Friday."
-
-Captain Liddle smiled at the pious sufferer, and shrugged his
-shoulders. It was evident, although he said nothing upon the subject,
-that he had already formed a not too favorable opinion of Stephen
-Homebush.
-
-For the first three days the prognostications of the sailors, that
-"something" was sure to happen because the voyage was commenced upon a
-Friday, did not seem likely to be realized. The weather was fine, the
-wind was fair, and every stitch of canvas was set. But the grumbling
-did not cease, and for a very good reason. Scadbolt and the Lascar did
-their best to keep the subject warm, and between them managed to
-foment and increase the dissatisfaction. Captain Liddle, cognizant of
-this, became stern and strict, and took but little rest. He did not
-know who it was that was encouraging the men; he suspected Scadbolt,
-and, estimating his second mate at his proper worth, he wanted but the
-slightest confirmation of his suspicions to take prompt action against
-the offender. By this time the passengers had recovered from their
-sea-sickness, and begun to assemble on the deck. Stephen and Rachel
-Homebush set to work vigorously in their task of reclaiming the
-sinners, in which category every person but themselves on board was
-included; but though they prayed (for others), and groaned (for
-others), and "wrestled" (for others), their efforts were not crowned
-with success. Indeed, the only person who tolerated them at all was
-the man who had the worst character, and whom nearly everybody
-avoided. Rough-and-Ready was a treasure to the pious couple. To him,
-as the most illustrious sinner within their reach, they imparted the
-knowledge of their own goodness and of everybody else's wickedness;
-him they informed that their special mission (out of heaven) was to
-lead him to the waters of grace, and that his special mission was to
-be led thereto by them. They prayed for him wrathfully, in stony
-voices, and would have wept over him, had he allowed them to do so.
-And when they found that they made no impression upon him (for it was
-only his good-nature that induced him to listen to them), they groaned
-the louder, and prayed the longer, and wrestled the more, because of
-the hardness of man's heart. It was a curious thing, seeing how good
-they were and how bad he was, to observe the conduct of Little Emma,
-Mrs. Pigeon's five-year-old daughter, towards the saints and the
-sinner. The little child ran away from the saints, and cried and
-struggled when Rachel Homebush took her hand; but when she saw the
-sinner, she ran into his arms with perfect confidence, and submitted
-to be tossed in the air and to be kissed by him very much as if she
-liked it. But then children have no judgment.
-
-Towards the close of the third day the weather became threatening, and
-the sails were taken in. This set the grumblers at work more busily
-than ever. Some time before midnight, the watch being in charge of the
-second mate, Captain Liddle came unaware upon two of the men who were
-grumbling, and sternly asked them what they were grumbling at. The
-Lascar was one of the twain, and of course he did not reply; but the
-other man, being pressed by the captain, pulled at his forelock, and
-said that the sailors weren't pleased because the voyage had been
-commenced on their unlucky day.
-
-"And that's the cause of this rough weather, eh?" questioned Captain
-Liddle sarcastically.
-
-"Yes, your honor," was the reply. "Why, even the second mate says so."
-
-"Does he?" cried Captain Liddle, turning wrathfully upon Scadbolt, who
-at that moment approached them. "What do you mean, Mr. Scadbolt, by
-spreading dissatisfaction among the crew?"
-
-Brought face to face with the man to whom he had spoken, Scadbolt, who
-was no coward, gave him a threatening look, and said,--
-
-"Well, sir, I've an objection to setting sail on Friday; and, as you
-see, the men have the same objection."
-
-"I see quite enough to warn you to be careful," said Captain Liddle in
-a determined tone; "I have warned you before, and I warn you now for
-the last time. Keep your objections to yourself, sir, and trouble
-yourself only with your duty.--And you, men, attend to yours, and let
-me hear no more of this nonsense. You know me well enough to know that
-I will not be trifled with."
-
-The men slouched away, and Scadbolt was obliged to suppress his
-passion for the time: but it burned the fiercer for that.
-
-The next day the weather became worse, and circumstances thus gave a
-color to the dissatisfaction, which grew stronger every hour. But the
-captain was equal to both emergencies; like a good sailor and a stout
-captain he grappled with the storm that raged without, and with that
-scarcely less dangerous one that raged within. He was seldom off the
-deck, and when he did go down to snatch an hour's rest, he left Joshua
-on board to watch in his place. For Captain Liddle was not slow to
-discover that Joshua was the man of all the other men on the ship upon
-whose faithfulness he could best depend. He said this many times to
-his wife, and often spoke to her in praise of Joshua. Minnie heard
-this, and heard also of the dissatisfaction among the sailors, and how
-Scadbolt, the second mate, had fomented the dissatisfaction. About
-this time a whisper spread among the passengers that there were three
-or four sailors in the crew who only wanted a favorable opportunity to
-break into open mutiny. Confirmation of this was given by the captain,
-on the third day of the bad weather, when the ship was scudding along
-under bare poles. He, coming down hastily into the saloon, went into
-his cabin, and made his appearance in a few minutes with a belt
-buckled round his waist and two pistols in it. The passengers,
-looking at each other in astonishment, received another shock
-presently by the surprising appearance of Rough-and-Ready. His dress
-hitherto had been of a respectable character black coat and waistcoat
-and tweed trousers; but now he had on a red-serge shirt, and a rough
-billycock-hat, and buckskin riding-trousers, and boots that reached
-half-way up his thighs, and a red-silk sash round his waist, with
-knife and pistol stuck therein. You may guess the alarm he caused
-among the ladies; the only passenger who seemed pleased at the change
-in his appearance was little Emma Pigeon, who skipped round him
-delightedly, and clapped her hands in approval of his bright-colored
-shirt and sash. Rough-and-Ready caught the child in his arms and gave
-her a hearty kiss, and nodded cordially to the fellow-passengers who
-had so studiously avoided him. They were so frightened at his
-desperate appearance, that they forgot to frown upon him as they were
-wont to do. Rough-and-Ready then going on deck, walked up to Captain
-Liddle, and said,--
-
-"You can depend upon me, skipper. I've seen this sort of thing
-before."
-
-Captain Liddle gave him a look of grateful acknowledgment, and they
-made their way into the midst of a knot of sailors who were standing
-irresolutely about Scadbolt and Joshua. Joshua was cool but perplexed,
-and Scadbolt was in a furious rage.
-
-"Whose watch is this?" asked Captain Liddle. He knew well enough, but
-he had a motive for asking.
-
-"Mine, sir," answered Joshua.
-
-"What are the men hanging about for?"
-
-"I gave an order, sir, and Mr. Scadbolt countermanded it."
-
-"Give your order again, Mr. Marvel."
-
-Joshua did so; and as Scadbolt, in a voice thick with passion, was
-desiring the men not to obey it, Captain Liddle very promptly knocked
-him down. Calling two of the sailors by name, Captain Liddle ordered
-them to put the second mate in irons. After the confusion which
-followed the execution of this order had partially subsided, Captain
-Liddle cried out,--
-
-"Now, then, what have you to complain of? Speak out like men."
-
-At this one of the sailors stepped forward, and said respectfully,--
-
-"Well, your honor, some of us think it would have been better if we
-had stopped in port another day."
-
-"That's a matter of opinion," said the captain. "You have a right to
-yours, but I have a right to mine also; and I am master of this ship.
-Now I ask you as sensible men and good sailors, is it right that you
-should forget your duty because we don't agree upon a certain point?
-Do you know what this means my men?" pointing to Scadbolt. "It means
-mutiny. What would any one of you do if you were skipper in my place
-You would put a stop to it at once, as I have done, and as I intend to
-do. I'll do it by reason, if you'll let me, and I'll say nothing of
-any other means, for I don't want to use them. I speak you fair, men,
-and I mean you fair. What do you say, now, to treating me as I treat
-you?"
-
-Acquiescent murmurs ran round the crew, most of whom had gathered
-together during the scene. "And at such a time as this too," continued
-Captain Liddle, "though it would be all the same in fair weather or
-foul. I'll tell you something that many of you, as good mariners,
-suspect already. We are near a dangerous coast--how near I do not
-know, for I have not been able to take a sight for two days. And it's
-at such a time as this that this bad sailor--I found out before we got
-into the Bay of Biscay that he wasn't as good as he ought to be--it's
-at such a time as this that he tries to get you into trouble. Come,
-now, have I spoke you fair?"
-
-"Yes, you have; spoke like a man!" a dozen voices said.
-
-"That's well said. Whoever is on my side step over to me."
-
-Every man--even the Lascar, too much of a coward to stand
-aloof--stepped to the captain's side and saluted him.
-
-"I'm proud of my crew," was the captain's simple remark after this.
-"Now go to your duty."
-
-As the captain walked on to the poop, Rough-and-Ready said,
-
-"That was well done, skipper; but there are two or three black sheep
-among 'em, for all that."
-
-"I know it," replied Captain Liddle, with a significant look. "I shall
-keep a sharp look-out on them. I've got a man on board that's a match
-for a dozen black sheep, or I'm very much mistaken."
-
-Rough-and-Ready laughed and turned on his heel, and Captain Liddle
-went down to say an encouraging word to his wife.
-
-On the eighth day the captain, suspecting that they were in the
-vicinity of the Minerva Shoal, near which there were some dangerous
-rocks, ordered a sharp lookout to be kept for broken water. All the
-passengers were by this time in a state of great alarm, and although
-Captain Liddle tried to cheer them by encouraging words, his anxious
-face belied his speech. Perhaps the one who suffered the most from
-terror was Stephen Homebush. His terror was so great that he forgot
-his mission, and flew to others for consolation, instead of imparting
-it. Such men as he are most true to their calling when the weather is
-fine. It was a miserably dark night. The captain, completely tired
-out, had gone down to his cabin for a little rest. All the passengers,
-with the exception of Rough-and-Ready, who never seemed to sleep, and
-yet was the freshest man of them all, had retired to their beds with
-hearts filled by gloomy forebodings of what the morrow might bring;
-and there they lay, tossing about, listening to the raging wind that
-was driving them perhaps to certain death. In the captain's cabin were
-Mrs. Liddle and her maid. There was something in the present danger
-that was to Minnie almost a relief from the horrible monotony of her
-life. Her self-imposed silence had become unbearable, and she fretted
-under it until her health was in danger of giving way. So that this
-change, with all its terrors and uncertainties, was an absolute relief
-to her. She was too sad and unhappy to be frightened at the prospect
-of death. Had the future held out to her any hope of happiness, she
-would have prayed to live; but as it was--"Better to die," she
-thought, "and so end all." There is no doubt that this miserable state
-of her mind was due to the want of proper moral training in her
-childhood. Thrown completely upon herself; with no mother's love to
-teach her what is often taught by love's instinct alone, that such and
-such impulses and thoughts are weeds that destroy, and such and such
-are flowers that beautify: doomed to the almost sole companionship of
-a father whose misfortunes had rendered him an unfit teacher, it is
-scarcely to be wondered at that she should have been oblivious of the
-true duty of life.
-
-"Bessie," said Captain Liddle to his wife, "I have come down for an
-hour's sleep. I can rest with confidence, for Marvel is keeping the
-watch."
-
-Mrs. Liddle nodded, and gave him a sweet little smile that was like
-wine to him; and Minnie heard him say, in answer to a whisper from his
-wife, "We are in God's hands, Bessie, and must trust to His mercy."
-"We are in God's hands, and must trust to His mercy," thought Minnie
-as she left the cabin; "and Joshua is keeping the watch. Death may be
-very near. Will it be wrong to speak to him?" Mechanically she made
-her way to the deck, stumbling two or three times and bruising
-herself. But she felt no pain. "I should like to die near him," she
-thought; "if he would take my hand in his, I should be content and
-happy."
-
-Nothing but darkness surrounded her on deck. She clung to a rope,
-appalled by the mournfulness of the scene. Not a star was to be seen
-in the heavens, and the sky and water were as black as the night. So
-solemn, so mournful was every thing around, that the ship seemed to be
-rushing into a pit of death, where no light was. She could not see her
-hand before her, but all at once her heart beat wildly at the sound of
-Joshua's voice. He was speaking to Rough-and-Ready, and they were
-quite near her, although she had not seen them. Even now she could but
-barely discern their forms in the gloom. Joshua had just made a remark
-that Rough-and-Ready must have been a great traveller.
-
-"Yes," answered Rough-and-Ready, "I've been about a pretty great deal.
-I've led a wild life; but then, you see, I never had any one to care
-for but myself."
-
-"Never?" questioned Joshua, in a tone that had a dash of pity in it.
-
-"Never but once, and that was only for a little while. But what
-matters? It will be all one by and by."
-
-"I should be sorry to think you meant that," continued Joshua; "it
-would be a sad belief that, at such a time as this."
-
-"You speak as if you didn't believe it, at all events," said
-Rough-and-Ready, in tones as soft as a girl's; "but then your
-circumstances are different to mine. You are young; I am"--
-
-"Not old."
-
-"Old enough for twice your years. Then you have friends at home,
-mayhap?"
-
-"Ay, dear ones."
-
-"Mother and father?"
-
-"Ay; God bless them!"
-
-"Wife perhaps?"
-
-Joshua gave a gasp that sounded almost like a cry of pain.
-
-"Ah, well," continued Rough-and-Ready, "if we were to go down this
-minute, I don't know the man or woman who would say 'Poor fellow!'
-when my fate was known. I leave no one behind me, and my death would
-bring no grief to a single soul. Perhaps my condition is the happier
-of the two."
-
-"Not so," said Joshua sadly; "and I hope--indeed I believe--that you
-don't mean what you say. I have a friend at home--Dan, his name--to
-whom the news of my death would be the bitterest grief. I have dear
-ones at home, whose lives would be lives of mourning if I were not to
-return. I know this, and feel the pain that they would experience
-should it be God's will that we are not to escape this peril. But,
-strange as it may sound, I would not spare them the pain if it were in
-my power. Could I, by a wish, destroy the memories that make my life
-dear to me and them--dearer than you imagine--and so pluck from their
-hearts and minds the sting that my death would bring to them, I would
-not do so. For after death, there is life!"
-
-"You believe in the immortality of the soul, mate?"
-
-"Surely; and you?"
-
-Rough-and-Ready made no reply.
-
-"'Tis often difficult to believe in what we don't understand. On such
-a night as this--bleak, dreary, awfully solemn--with death waiting for
-us within a few yards perhaps--it is difficult to believe that there
-are spots on the earth where the sun is shining and where the flowers
-are blooming."
-
-"That's true, mate; you speak more like a scholar than a sailor. Shake
-hands."
-
-"I learned a great deal from the friend of whom I have spoken," said
-Joshua, grasping Rough-and-Ready's hand. "What is that ahead of us?"
-
-A dark cloud. Impossible to see whether it belonged to earth, or air,
-or water. A moment after he uttered the words, the man who was keeping
-the look-out cried that there was land ahead. Joshua hastily gave some
-orders, and was making his way to the saloon to arouse the captain,
-when he was almost thrown off his legs by a terrible shock.
-Involuntarily he threw his arms around Minnie, who was clinging to the
-rope. She held him fast for a moment, and he cried,--
-
-"Who is this?"
-
-"It is me," she said; "cling to me."
-
-"Don't stir," he whispered rapidly, filled with a wild amazement at
-the familiar tones of Minnie's voice; "if it were not that I know I am
-not dreaming, I could believe a spirit spoke, and not a woman. But
-keep you here; do not move for your life."
-
-The next instant all was confusion, and cries and lamentations filled
-the air. Captain Liddle was on deck barefooted, and all the passengers
-were there in their nightdresses, clinging to ropes and spars, praying
-and crying and wringing their hands. Great seas washed over the ship,
-drowning the cries for a brief time; the night was so dark that their
-true situation could not be discovered, and imagination added to their
-terrors and magnified them. The captain could do literally nothing;
-for the ship appeared to have been lifted on to the rocks, and kept
-bumping against them in its endeavors to get free. And yet there was
-sea all around them. Some of the passengers had sought shelter under
-the lee of the cuddy, among them the captain's wife, Mr. and Mrs.
-Pigeon and Little Emma, and Steven and Rachel Homebush. Many times
-during the night was the voice of Stephen Homebush heard, calling upon
-the Lord to save _him_; while his sister Rachel, braver than he, stood
-by his side, with a stern set face, in silence. The cheery laugh of
-Mrs. Pigeon was stilled, but she was not so overcome by terror as not
-to be a comfort to her husband and child; during the dark night those
-three clung together and comforted each other as well as they were
-able; while the captain, making his way from one group to another,
-bade them not lose heart; for the ship seemed to be keeping together,
-and when daylight came their condition might be found to be less
-desperate than it appeared.
-
-"Besides," he whispered to the male passengers, "we have three or four
-rascals among the sailors, and for the sake of the women we must keep
-ourselves cool and self-possessed."
-
-To his wife he said simply,--
-
-"Well, Bessie, this is a bad job. I ought not to have allowed you to
-come with me."
-
-"I would sooner be here with you, John," she said, kissing him, "than
-I would be at home in safety."
-
-"Brave little heart," he whispered to himself as he walked away from
-her. "Yet I could bear it better if I were alone."
-
-James Heartsease and Harry Wall kept together, as friends should, all
-through the night. They felt not a particle of fear; they thought it
-was very grand and very awful, and spoke in calm tones of what the
-morrow might bring.
-
-"Don't think we shall see China, Jim," said Harry.
-
-"Perhaps not. Hope no body will be hurt," was the reply. "What a grand
-painting this would make!"
-
-A few minutes after Joshua had left Minnie, he came to the cuddy,
-where Mrs. Liddle had sought protection.
-
-"Mr. Marvel," she called to him, "have you seen my maid?"
-
-Then it came upon him that the woman to whom he had clung when the
-ship struck was the gypsy-maid who had kept herself so reserved, and
-he said, "Yes my lady; do you want her?"
-
-All the officers called the captain's wife "my lady," and she was
-proud of the title.
-
-"Yes," she answered; "I wish you could bring her to me, poor girl; she
-is friendless and unhappy, poor child!"
-
-"Has she no friends at home, my lady?" Joshua could not help asking.
-
-"None, I believe."
-
-The word "home" reached little Emma Pigeon's ears, and as she nestled
-in her mother's arms, the child cried, "Mother, are we going home?"
-
-"Yes, yes, my dear," sobbed Mrs. Pigeon; "try to go to sleep, there's
-a darling." And she rocked the child, and sang a little song about
-birds and angels.
-
-Joshua, steadying himself as he walked cautiously to where Minnie was
-standing, wondered to himself whether it was fancy that had made the
-gypsy-maid's voice sound so familiar to him; a sea washing over the
-deck, drenched him to the skin, and as he stood upright and shook the
-water from his clothes, the memories that were stirred within him
-brought to him a picture of the dear old kitchen at Stepney, with
-himself half-naked, barefooted, and with the water streaming from him,
-standing at the door. The vision may have occupied but a moment, but
-the picture was complete; father, mother, Ellen, Dan and the birds,
-the Old Sailor, all were there. But where was Minnie? Why, by his
-side, with short curly hair and brown gypsy-face. "Am I mad?" he
-exclaimed, as he dashed the waters from his eyes. But when he reached
-the spot where Minnie stood, and she clasped his hand and said, "Thank
-God, you are safe!" his amazement grew.
-
-"I cannot see your face," he whispered, with his arm round her, for
-the better protection of both; "but your voice is strangely familiar
-to me. Do I know you?"
-
-"Yes. But do not press me farther. Wait till the light comes. Shall we
-live till then?"
-
-"I hope so."
-
-"Will you promise me to keep near me till daylight comes? It is my
-dearest wish--my only one."
-
-"I promise," he said, strangely agitated, "until my duty calls me
-away."
-
-"And even then, you will come back when you have done your task, and
-stand by my side?"
-
-"I will, my poor girl. I have come now to bring you to the captain's
-lady."
-
-"She sent you for me?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"She is a good lady. But wait a little; I have something to say
-first." Many moments passed before she spoke again, and in the pause a
-grateful prayer went up from the girl's heart even for the small
-blessing of gentle speech from her hero's lips. "You have made me
-very, very happy. Until tonight--for many, many months past--I have
-been most unhappy." She bent her lips to his hand and kissed it. "Now
-answer me. We are in great peril?"
-
-"The greatest, I fear."
-
-"But a danger threatens you of which you are not aware. Listen. The
-second mate, he who was put in irons the other day"--
-
-"Scadbolt--go on."
-
-"Is loosed."
-
-"By whom?"
-
-"I don't know. But he is loosed, and but five minutes since was near
-me with a sailor whom I think I know, although I could not see him.
-Listen. I must whisper, for he may be near us now. They were talking
-of you, and they swore--O my God!--they swore to have your life."
-
-"They spoke of me by name?"
-
-"By name--Joshua Marvel."
-
-"You think you know the sailor who was talking to Scadbolt. Is he a
-dark man?"
-
-"Yes; a Lascar I think."
-
-"You are right. He owes me an old grudge."
-
-"Scadbolt said that this coast is one of the most dangerous upon which
-a ship could strike. He believes he knows pretty well where we are,
-and that it will be a fight for the boats"--
-
-"We have only two, the jolly-boat and the longboat; he may be right."
-
-"Be on your guard; tell the captain; be prepared."
-
-"We will; and you"--
-
-"I can protect myself. Feel this."
-
-"A knife!"
-
-"I picked it up. Let them beware."
-
-Another lurch of the vessel made them cling closer to each other.
-During all the horror of the scene, Joshua had not dared to ask
-whether it really was Minnie to whom he was speaking; he feared to
-know the truth. Minnie on the ship with him! and Ellen at home--and
-Dan--he dared not think of it.
-
-"Come," he said; "I will take you to the captain's lady. Cling fast to
-me."
-
-"Say a few words to me."
-
-"What are they?"
-
-"God bless and forgive you."
-
-"God bless and forgive you! From my heart."
-
-"He will, I think," said the girl, as if communing with herself. "I
-have not felt so happy for a long time past. Death has no terror for
-me if you are kind!"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXX.
-JOSHUA IS PROMOTED.
-
-
-When daylight came--and oh, how they watched for it, and prayed for
-it!--they saw clearly their great peril. The ship was rolling amongst
-a mass of sharp rocks jutting upwards from the sea. They saw the
-points of these rocks on all sides of them; but no friendly land was
-in view.
-
-"The ship is lost," said Captain Liddle to Joshua whom he looked upon
-as his right-hand; "she is breaking up fast. Our next chance is the
-boats."
-
-It was a wonder indeed how the "Merry Andrew" had kept together during
-the night, with the tremendous beating she had received from the
-rocks; if she had been in deep water, she must inevitably have sunk.
-
-Joshua had told Captain Liddle of the understanding between Scadbolt
-and the Lascar, as overhead by Minnie; and now the captain walked to
-where the two conspirators were standing in conversation with other
-sailors. Scadbolt was endeavoring to persuade them to seize the jolly
-boat, and leave the passengers to shift for themselves.
-
-"What is that you are saying?" cried the captain breaking in amongst
-them, and grasping Scadbolt by the shoulder with a grasp of iron.
-"More incitings to mutiny! Take heed, sir! Give me but a little
-stronger cause--nay, dare to lay a finger upon boats or provisions
-without leave--and, by God, I'll throw you into the sea!"
-
-"Will you stand this, men?" shouted Scadbolt, writhing in the
-captain's grasp.
-
-The Lascar made a movement towards the captain, and the glitter of a
-knife flashed in the light; but a blow from Joshua sent him reeling,
-and in an instant the knife was torn from his hand.
-
-"Remember!" said Joshua in a low voice. "You had a lesson from me
-years ago. What the captain does to Scadbolt, I do to you, you
-treacherous cur."
-
-"I remember," muttered the Lascar, presenting the singular aspect of a
-man cowed by fear and raging with furious passion at the same time, "I
-swore to have your heart's blood, and I'll have it! Look you! the end
-has not yet come. Give me my knife."
-
-Joshua looked at the knife; it was one-bladed, with a clasp--one of
-the articles, indeed, which the Lascar had wrested from Solomon
-Fewster's fears.
-
-"You asked me once before for a knife I took from you," he said; "then
-I broke it before I gave it back. But this--this I mean to keep."
-
-"Now then my men," cried the captain, in a cheery voice, "this is the
-second time that this damned rascal has tried to step between you and
-me. What I feared then has happened now. The ship is breaking up, and
-can't hold together for many days, and if the weather gets worse, may
-break up in a day. There are certain chances in our favor, every one
-of which will be destroyed unless we act in friendly concert and like
-men. This scoundrel has tried to make you believe that your interests
-and the interests of the passengers are in opposition. He lies! I
-declare to you, as a captain and a man" (if he had said a gentleman,
-all would have been ruined), "that your lives and your safety are as
-dear to me, as those of anybody else on board--except my wife," he
-said softly yet stoutly, and murmurs of "Bravo, skipper! Bravo you're
-a man!" broke even from the lips of those sailors who were most
-disposed to be won over by Scadbolt. "Well then, you hear me declare
-now, as I have declared before, that I mean you fair. And I declare
-moreover, that our only chance of safety is in union. Once again--With
-me,--or Against me?"
-
-"With you I with you, skipper!"
-
-During this scene, Joshua did not know that Minnie was standing near
-him. Now, releasing the Lascar with warning words, he turned and saw
-her. She met his gaze unflinchingly, and a hot blush mantled over her
-neck and face. He gazed at her for so long a time, that she drooped
-her head before him, and stood in an attitude of pleading. But he
-could not doubt the evidence of his senses. Her manner, no less than
-her appearance, convinced him. It was Minnie, indeed, who stood before
-him.
-
-He covered his eyes with his hand, and staggered to the saloon. If a
-thousand despairing and undeserved deaths had stared him in the face,
-he could not have been more shocked and bewildered. He sat down and
-tried to think. What was the meaning of it? What did they know at
-home? What did they, know? What might they suspect? He saw himself and
-the Old Sailor together in the boat at Gravesend, and heard that
-faithful old friend tell him of Minnie's love for him, and what it was
-his duty to do. He had seen his duty clearly then: love for Ellen no
-less than duty--affection for his friend and brother, no less than
-love and duty--impelled him to the right and honorable course of
-making Ellen his wife. And then! Why, within three days of that
-consummation of his dearest hope, he and Minnie were together on board
-the "Merry Andrew." If they at home knew it, suspected it even, must
-they not believe that his whole life was a monstrous lie? that he had
-planned, plotted, deceived, schemed, to prove how utterly false he was
-to the woman who adored him, to the man who believed in him, to the
-kind mother and father who loved him better than Benjamin was loved?
-For a few moments he lost all consciousness of present peril. The ship
-beat amongst the rocks; the seas dashed over the deck: he heard them
-not, felt them not. He took from his breast Ellen's picture and the
-lock of hair she had given him at their parting, and kissed them
-again and again while his tears ran on them. Strangely enough, there
-came to his ears then, in the midst of his agony, his father's hearty
-exultant voice, saying, "This is better than being a wood-turner all
-one's life, isn't it, Josh?" He shivered and sobbed and cried, "O Dan,
-Dan, do not forsake me!" and stretched forth his hands as if his
-friend were near. A hand upon his shoulder aroused him, He looked up,
-and saw the captain's wife. She was a brave woman, and had done much
-during the night to sustain the courage of the others.
-
-"There is a man's work to do on deck," she said to him gravely and
-sweetly. "You are not growing faint-hearted?"
-
-"No, my lady," he answered, "not faint-hearted at the prospect of
-death; but I have received a shock worse than death."
-
-She did not stop to ask for an explanation of his meaning--time was
-too precious; but she took the picture of Ellen and looked at it.
-
-"My wife, my lady," he said, with a sob.
-
-A troubled expression crossed her features, and she said
-encouragingly,--
-
-"Nay, all hope is not gone; we may succeed in reaching land, or some
-ship may see us and pick us up. But all private grief must give way
-now for the general good. There are not too many faithful men on
-board; the lives of others depend on them. If they lose heart, and
-yield to the selfishness of their grief, we are lost."
-
-Joshua jumped to his feet and wiped his tears.
-
-"They are not unmanly tears, my lady," he said bravely; "I can justify
-them to you when there is no pressing work to do. Thank you for
-calling me to my duty."
-
-She smiled brightly on him and shook hands with him. When he got on
-deck, the captain was giving orders to lower the jolly-boat; but as
-the boat was being lowered, the broken water caught her and splintered
-her to pieces. The sailors and passengers looked with dismay at the
-fragments of the boat drifting away and dashing against the jagged
-rocks. "What next?" they all thought.
-
-"Try the long-boat, men," cried the captain. And in accordance with
-his instructions, the long-boat--the only one left--was launched over
-the vessel's side; but as she hung in the tackle a huge wave dashed up
-and filled her. It was imperative that the water should be bailed out
-of her.
-
-"Who will do it?" asked the captain, loath to give an order in which
-there was almost certain death. Joshua was about to start forward,
-when Minnie's hand upon his arm restrained him. Before he could shake
-off the grasp, the first mate, crying, "I'm a single man; I've no wife
-and children waiting for me at home!" jumped into the boat up to his
-waist in water, and began to bail it out. But he had not bailed out a
-dozen gallons when the stern-post was jerked out of the boat, which
-was left hanging in the tackle. The shouts of the men and the screams
-of the women apprised him of his danger; and as he looked about to see
-how he could remedy the disaster, the fore-tackle got adrift, and the
-boat was battling with cruel rocks and water. The force of the current
-was too powerful for her. The captain threw out lines to the
-unfortunate man, but he could not catch them. But if he had, he would
-have been bruised to death by the sharp rocks. The moment before he
-went down, he waved a good-by to those on board. A long silence
-followed. The women looked anxiously at the captain, but saw no hope
-in his face. Then with a gesture to all to follow him, he went down to
-the saloon, and there read prayers, and commended them to God. He was
-not what is understood as a religious man; but knowing the danger in
-which they stood, he conceived this to be a duty. That done, he said,
-"Men and passengers, we have one chance left, and only one. Out of
-our masts and spars we can make a raft sufficiently large to hold all
-of us. Then we may be able to reach some friendly land. To stay on
-board and wait, and not work, is certain death. Even as it is, a raft
-will take us some days to make, and the ship may break to pieces
-before it is done. But we must trust to God for that. What we've got
-to do is to work like men, for our own sakes, for the sake of the
-women, and for the sake of wives and children at home. Some of you
-have these, I know. It is not for me, now that we are in such a
-strait, to say, do this, or do that; although under any circumstances
-I shall insist upon discipline and order. I can't make you work, and
-therefore I submit for your approval the plan I think best for general
-safety. Have any of you a better one to propose?"
-
-"No, no!" was the unanimous cry.
-
-"Very well; then we'll determine upon this. And for the better
-carrying out of our design, I appoint Mr. Marvel second in command. He
-is first mate now. If any thing happens to me, you will look to him.
-When the raft is made, and safely launched--if it please God that it
-shall be so--we will set down necessary rules for all on board. Until
-that time there is but one rule--to work. Every man on board must
-work--passengers and all; and every man must aid me in preserving
-order."
-
-The captain's manly speech infused hope into every heart; and
-exclamations of "Good!" "Bravo skipper!" "Well said, sir!" followed
-his last words.
-
-"One other thing," he said, in a more determined voice: "to my certain
-knowledge, we have unfortunately among us two men who have endeavored
-to spread dissatisfaction and add to our confusion. I will not point
-out these men; they are known to me and all of you. They are men,
-though, as we are, so far as the value of life to each of us goes; and
-it is only fair that they should have equal chances with us. But this
-I declare, by my dear wife's life! If these men do not work, and if
-they attempt any thing that is not for the general good, I will shoot
-them with my own hand! Now then, to the deck!"
-
-Not a man among them who did not take off his coat and set to work
-with a will. There were a great many loose spars on board, which, with
-the mizenmast, were found to be sufficient for their purpose. They
-tried to cut down the mainmast; but there was so much danger in the
-attempt that it was relinquished. For three days they worked like
-slaves. The rocks served as a resting-place for the ends of the
-largest spars, which were firmly lashed together and nailed; the light
-and short spars were used for the centre of the raft, upon which a
-kind of platform was raised on which many of the shipwrecked persons
-could lie out of the water; a mast, to carry sails was also rigged up.
-The raft was not finished too soon; they could not have stopped
-another day on the ship. While the work was going on, three of the
-sailors lost their lives, so that already their number was lessened by
-four. The raft being ready, it was launched with great difficulty. The
-next anxious question was provisions; and the result of their inquiry
-blanched many a cheek. All the bread was spoiled by the salt water,
-and most of the preserved meat had been lost, in consequence of having
-been brought on deck when they tried to launch the boats. They also
-made another disheartening discovery. They could only find two small
-kegs to hold water. Still, when the first shock of these discoveries
-was over, they were borne bravely, almost cheerfully. The women,
-excepting Rachel Homebush, were the cause of this; they smiled upon
-the workers, encouraged them, and made them hopeful in spite of
-themselves. Even Mrs. Pigeon recovered some of her good spirits; and
-knowing that her merry laugh was a comfort to the men, she laughed
-often when she was not inclined for mirth. The little child, Emma, was
-the only truly happy one of the party, and her presence drove away
-many a hard thought. Rough-and-Ready had his anxious intervals, but he
-worked with a will. Between him and Joshua a strong attachment sprung
-up; each admired the manliness of the other. He was also particularly
-kind to Minnie, and she grew accustomed to look upon him with
-confidence, and to trust in him. The night before the raft was
-launched, Joshua persuaded Captain Liddle to take a night's rest.
-
-"It will be all the better for you and all of us, sir," said Joshua.
-
-"But you too, Marvel," said Captain Liddle, "you want rest as much as
-I. I don't believe you have had two hours' sleep since we struck."
-This was really true; both Joshua and the captain had been in
-defatigable.
-
-"Never mind me, sir," said Joshua, with a sad sweet smile. "You have
-your wife to attend to. Besides, I promise that I will rest to-morrow
-night, if you will give me leave."
-
-"You are a noble fellow, Marvel;" and Captain Liddle gazed admiringly
-at the young sailor. "I have often wondered how you acquired certain
-qualities that are not common to the ordinary sailor."
-
-"I don't know, sir; I doubt if they were ever in me. They must have
-been put there by my friend Dan, who is nobleness itself."
-
-"Dan? Ah! the lame boy with the wonderful birds; that I saw at your
-house. I liked his face."
-
-"He is the dearest fellow"--Joshua turned away his head.
-
-The next day the provisions and the charts and instruments, and many
-things that would be useful, such as blankets, tools, and writing
-materials, were stowed safely on the raft. Of the provisions there was
-a very small store: twenty tins of preserved meat, a small quantity of
-sugar, about a gallon of rum, and two kegs of water. By the time every
-thing useful was stowed away and secured, and the passengers were
-safely on the raft, it was evening, and within three hours the "Merry
-Andrew" broke completely up. The raft, having parted its moorings,
-forced by the strong current, was carried to sea, and the passengers
-watched the last of the ship with unmixed feelings of sadness. The
-women shed tears, and all of them, men and women, felt as if they had
-lost a friend. When the vessel was out of sight a stronger feeling of
-desolation stole upon the unhappy group, and Rough-and-Ready had many
-looks of astonishment cast upon him as he rubbed his hands and said in
-a cheerful voice, "This is splendid. Now we can be comfortable." But
-it was well for them that they had some stout hearts on board.
-
-The direct allusion made by Captain Liddle to Scadbolt and the Lascar
-had had its effect upon those worthies; they knew that their lives
-depended upon their conduct. But they found means to exchange
-confidences, and they resolved to revenge themselves on both Joshua
-and the captain when opportunity served. "Wait till we make land,"
-said Scadbolt; "they shall smart then the pair of them. I'll teach
-both of them the meaning of 'general good!'" The Lascar's old feeling
-of hate for Joshua had been revived in all its intensity by the late
-scene between them.
-
-"I'll have my knife back," he muttered to himself as he lay on the
-raft the first night, at a little distance from Joshua, watching him
-with venomous looks, "and his heart's blood with it."
-
-Not a movement, not a glance, escaped Minnie's notice. Aware of the
-feelings of hate entertained by the Lascar for Joshua, she set herself
-the task of watching over Joshua's safety. He, overpowered by fatigue,
-had been persuaded by the captain to take some sleep, and when he lay
-down Minnie crept to his side and remained there during the night. He
-slept long and peacefully through the solemn night and after the gray
-morning had dawned, dreaming of home, of Dan and Ellen, and murmuring
-their names with a smile upon his lips.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXI.
-ON THE RAFT.
-
-
-Joshua, opening his eyes, saw Minnie sitting by his side. She, seeing
-that he was awake, moved quietly away without a word, and went to
-where the other women were lying. He had been so fatigued when he lay
-down to rest, that his sleep had been very profound; and when he
-awoke, the full sense of his situation did not come upon him. Minnie,
-sitting by his side with her brown face and short curls, was the first
-thing he saw; and it seemed to him for a brief space that he was
-dreaming. But when she moved away and joined the other women, he
-remembered the perils they had encountered, and the terrible position
-in which they were placed. He would have called to her, but that some
-feeling restrained him; and although he thought much of her during the
-day, he was glad that he had not spoken to her. Besides, his attention
-was diverted for a time to another circumstance. Some of the men were
-clamoring for breakfast. Neither Scadbolt nor the Lascar was among the
-murmurers; these last consisted of the weakest of the party, who were
-less able than the others to bear hunger, and to whom the fear of
-starvation made it appear as if they had been already fasting a day.
-
-"Breakfast! breakfast!" they cried.
-
-"Wait till ten o'clock," said the captain, in a stern determined
-voice; "you can't be hungry already. If you don't cease murmuring, I
-will put off breakfast until twelve."
-
-This threat silenced them.
-
-In the mean time the captain called his council together, and
-consulted with them. There were four in the council: himself, Joshua,
-Rough-and-Ready, and an old sailor named Standish, who had been
-wrecked twice before, and who consequently was looked upon as a
-distinguished personage. At eight o'clock the captain read prayers.
-Then the men, with the exception of the council, sat idly watching the
-water, and looking out for a fish. The morning was fine; one of the
-sailors noted for quaint sayings remarked that the weather had no
-business to be fine; it was a mockery. At ten o'clock the captain
-piped all hands; the call was answered readily, but there were no
-signs of breakfast.
-
-"Be seated," said the captain.
-
-They all sat down, with the exception of the captain and his three
-counsellors. The captain stood in front, his supporters behind.
-
-"We who stand," said the captain, "have been constituted by me,
-commander of this ship, into a council for the discussion and
-deliberation of all matters relating to the general welfare. The
-fairness of the selection will recommend itself to the crew, for the
-council is composed of three sailors and one passenger. Are you
-content?"
-
-"Yes, yes!" cried a large number.
-
-Up rose Scadbolt.
-
-"Let us hear first what you have to say about the provisions," he
-said. "I am not one who says yes without consideration."
-
-"That's fair too," broke from half a dozen throats.
-
-Captain Liddle eyed Scadbolt steadily. Scadbolt returned his gaze. He
-knew that in the position he had assumed, he could command the
-sympathies of a certain number, and the knowledge gave him confidence.
-
-"Well, it is fair," said the captain; "and a reasonable suggestion is
-always reasonable, never mind who makes it. The council have drawn out
-a set of rules this morning, which I have here writ down on paper. If
-you approve of them you will approve of the council; do I understand
-that?"
-
-"Yes, yes!"
-
-The captain produced his paper and commenced.
-
-"Rule 1. All questions in dispute, with the exception of such as are
-properly within the province of the duties of Captain Liddle--whose
-orders as Captain of the 'Merry Andrew,' we promise to obey and uphold
-to the death--shall be decided by the majority."
-
-"Agreed!" some cried.
-
-"Stop!" exclaimed Scadbolt; "how about the women? We are not going to
-let them vote."
-
-Thought Captain Liddle, "This is no common scoundrel; he puts in
-speech what many a malcontent would only dare to think." Said Captain
-Liddle aloud, "That was not mentioned by the council. I don't suppose
-the women would wish to vote; a proper man would not have mentioned
-it. Decided, however, that the women do not vote."
-
-In arguing with Scadbolt, Captain Liddle committed a grave mistake; it
-put them upon a kind of equality, and from that moment Scadbolt could
-boast of being the leader of a party, small as it might be.
-
-"Rule 2," continued Captain Liddle. "The small stock of provisions
-shall be equally divided between every soul on board"--
-
-A little faint cheering here broke out.
-
-"But, in consequence of the smallness of the supply, the quantity to
-be measured out to each person shall be regulated, as occasion
-demands, by the Captain and his council."
-
-No demur was made to this.
-
-"Rule 3. That all fish, birds, or food of any kind which may be found
-in air or water shall be added to the general stock, and shall be
-fairly and equally divided."
-
-"Unfair!" exclaimed Scadbolt; "each man is entitled to what he can
-catch in air or water."
-
-"Not so," replied the captain; "for what then would become of the
-women?--Men, I appeal to you: does this man, who speaks while you are
-silent, represent your views?"
-
-Two or three voices answered, "Yes;" a score answered, "No."
-
-"Good," said the captain; "he represents but one in a dozen; and even
-the two or three of you who seem to side with him may be brought to
-see the selfishness of what he advocates. If he had his way, the weak
-would be left to die; the strong alone should live, and have a chance
-of being saved. Is this fair? is it manly? is it honest?"
-
-"Every man for himself, and God for us all," muttered Scadbolt trying
-to fan the flame.
-
-"Then the strongest man would crush the rest, and might would take the
-place of right," continued the captain, beginning to see that he had
-made a mistake in listening so patiently to Scadbolt. "We were never
-nearer to death than we are this day; but shall that make us forget
-that we are men? Shall that turn us into brutes? We have helpless
-women depending upon us, and upon our manliness. They shall be shown
-no favor in the way of provisions; they shall divide equally with us,
-share and share alike. But, by God, the one who seeks to deny them
-their fair chance of life, dies by my hand!"
-
-"I am with you, captain," cried Rough-and-Ready.
-
-"And I," said Joshua.
-
-"And I," said the sailor who had been twice wrecked.
-
-"And I," "And I," from most of the rest.
-
-"Decided, then, that all food that may be found in air or water shall
-be added to the general stock, and shall be fairly and equally
-divided."
-
-Scadbolt did not dare demur.
-
-"Rule 4. That, recognizing the full extent of our dread peril, and
-knowing that death stares us in the face, we resolve to die like men,
-if it be God's will; and thus resolving, we solemnly declare that,
-supposing all our food to be gone, we will not eat human flesh"--
-
-A shudder ran round the attentive group, and Mrs. Pigeon fainted; but
-Captain Liddle proceeded firmly,--
-
-"Nor draw lots as to who shall be killed to feed the rest. This we
-solemnly resolve, in fear of the Lord, out of common humanity, and out
-of respect for ourselves as Christian men."
-
-Assented to in silence; not one of them could realize the horrible
-craving, born of raging thirst and hunger, that had come upon men in
-such a strait as theirs.
-
-"That is all," concluded the captain after a long pause. "You approve,
-then, of the council and these rules?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"Now to breakfast. Water, for the first week, will be served out
-twice a day--a quarter of a pint in the morning, and a quarter of a
-pint in the evening--half a pint a day to each person. Of food we
-have only preserved meat and sugar, and very little of either. One
-tablespoonful of preserved meat will be served out to each person at
-eleven o'clock every morning, and at five o'clock one ounce of sugar.
-Of rum we have about a gallon: a teaspoonful will be served out to
-each person once in every other day, in the morning or in the evening,
-as he may choose. The general stock of previsions will not be touched
-by any one on board, except in presence of all, and it will be guarded
-by two of the council; the penalty of tampering with the stock, or of
-attempting to steal any portion of it, will be death. And God give us
-strength, and send us happy deliverance!"
-
-When breakfast was served, the men lay about the raft idly, watching
-the water for fish, which they were not successful in catching, and
-rising every now and then to scan the horizon for a sail. Some slept
-or tried to sleep; some talked over the chances of deliverance; some
-spoke in whispers of what they had heard from men who had been
-wrecked. While the provisions were being measured by the captain, the
-other three of the council stood by with cocked pistols, ready to fire
-should a rush be made. Most of the men took their spoonful of
-preserved meat, and ate it quickly and greedily, some of them at one
-gulp; but a few, wiser than their fellows, retired with their portion,
-and sitting down, ate it very slowly. These last were the best
-satisfied. The council were busy enough all the day; assisted by Mr.
-Pigeon and the two friends, Wall and Heartsease, they were employed in
-re-arranging every thing on the raft, and in making things more
-comfortable for the women. A kind of low tent was built, under cover
-of which the women could lie down and rest, screened from the men; but
-it was only used at night; for at first the women mixed with the men
-during the day, and made themselves useful. Mrs. Pigeon, of her own
-accord, crept to where the sailors were lying about, and asked if they
-wanted any thing mended. At first they were too surprised to reply;
-but presently a dozen voices answered her. One wanted a pair of socks
-darned; another had half a dozen rents in his shirt; and in a very
-little while Mrs. Pigeon's hands were full. She made her way back to
-her female companions, and throwing a heap of clothes in the midst of
-them, proposed that they should set to work at once. Soon all of them,
-with the exception of Rachel Homebush, were busily and cheerfully at
-work; and while their fingers were plying, Mrs. Pigeon sang snatches
-of songs. It was as little like a picture of shipwrecked persons as
-one could imagine. But it was a picture that did an immense amount of
-good. The men looked at the women admiringly, and Rough-and-Ready's
-eyes glistened every time they wandered that way.
-
-"A pretty bunch!" he observed to Joshua.
-
-Joshua nodded hopefully, for the sight cheered him.
-
-"That's a good little woman of yours," said Rough-and-Ready, turning
-to Mr. Pigeon. Rough-and-Ready held a very different position now from
-what he did when he first stepped aboard the "Merry Andrew;" he was a
-general favorite with men and women. Even Rachel Homebush cast glances
-of approval at him.
-
-"I tell you what," answered Mr. Pigeon in a confidential tone; "I've
-not seen much of women--you know out there in the bush they're rather
-scarce--and we had some hope of getting home"--
-
-"_Had_ some hope!" interrupted Rough-and-Ready. "Say _have_ some hope.
-If there's one thing in the world that makes me certain of it, it is
-that picture there," pointing to the women.
-
-"I am heartily glad to hear you say so. _Have_ some hope, then, of
-getting home, where the streets are crowded with women they say. But
-there isn't one among 'em to come up to her. Although there were not
-half a dozen lasses to choose from when I first made up to her, I'd
-choose her now out of a million."
-
-Having delivered himself of these, his articles of faith in his wife,
-he sat down by her side, and held her cotton for her as she stitched
-and sewed.
-
-Meantime the current and their one sail carried them along at the rate
-of about two miles an hour. No land was in sight, and there was no
-sign of a ship, although during the day many a false alarm was given.
-The weather remained fine. The light wind died away in the evening,
-when the thin crescent of a new moon came out in the sky. It was
-welcomed as a good omen; and the women looked at it, and smiled at one
-another, the foolish things! as if the silver crescent were a
-messenger of good tidings. Then the stars came out brightly--another
-good omen. Many a one on the raft thought, "This is better than being
-jammed on the rocks, in the 'Merry Andrew;' we are moving towards
-safety. If we do not see a ship, we may see land, and may manage to
-get ashore." References were made to Robinson Crusoe and the Swiss
-Family Robinson; not in a gloomy, but in a cheerful spirit. It was the
-admirable bearing of the men in command, no less than the virtues of
-the women, that contributed to this state of hopeful feeling. The
-sailors were also comparatively contented; most of them had a little
-stock of tobacco--some more, some less--the chewing of which gave them
-comfort. Each man hoarded his store more jealously than a miser hoards
-his gold; but some were greedier than others, or craved for it more,
-and could not withstand the temptation of chewing it almost
-wastefully, certainly not prudently. But then sailors are not a
-prudent class of men.
-
-To Joshua, who was sitting musing of home, came Rough-and-Ready, and
-sat beside him.
-
-"You don't smoke?" asked Rough-and-Ready.
-
-"That's not sailor-like."
-
-Joshua shrugged his shoulders, and smiled.
-
-"Nor chew?"
-
-"No."
-
-"Here is a little piece of tobacco. Chew it."
-
-Joshua put it in his mouth and chewed it, because he thought it was,
-after all a certain kind of food, and might make him less hungry. But
-it made him sick.
-
-Rough-and-Ready laughed a little when he saw the effect of it, and
-presently said, so that no one else should hear, "You must learn to
-chew."
-
-"Why?"
-
-"It will help to keep you alive when the provisions run out. I have a
-dozen pounds of tobacco strapped round me; it was my own, so I thought
-I had a right to it. By and by it will come in handy. I wish I could
-teach the women to chew."
-
-"If the men knew you had so much," said Joshua, "your life would not
-be safe."
-
-"I know that. I had an idea at first of handing it to the skipper for
-general use; but I thought better of it. There are a few on board to
-whom I don't think I'd give an ounce to save their lives. What is that
-in your handkerchief?"
-
-"My accordion."
-
-"Do you play? Of course, though, or you wouldn't have it. I should
-like to hear some music."
-
-Joshua untied his handkerchief and took out his accordion. The night
-was very still, and the soft tones floated in the air, and seemed to
-linger about the raft as it glided through the sea. The quiet bubbling
-of the water as it stole through the openings between the spars, as if
-in sport, was in consonance with the melody and the still night and
-the beautiful peaceful heavens. Men who were lying at full length sat
-up when the music commenced, and were the better for it. The women
-crept from out their shelter, and listened and shed tears, not
-entirely unhappy. Surely it was a night of good omens. As Joshua
-played, his thoughts wandered back to his boyish life, and to the
-tender conversations that had taken place between him and Dan. Often
-he stopped as he mused and thought; but presently his fingers would be
-on the keys again, playing a few bars of "Poor Tom Bowling," and other
-more cheerful songs of Dibdin, which the Old Sailor loved so well.
-They came back to him, the memories of that happy time. Their anxiety
-about their birds, when they first commenced to train them; the death
-of Golden Cloud, and the after conversation which he had never
-forgotten, in the course of which they had read together of the wreck
-of Robinson Crusoe. Why, it seemed all to have come true! Here he was,
-wrecked, certainly not alone, and therefore better off than Crusoe
-was, but wrecked for all that. But under what circumstances, and with
-what a dreadful web of suspicion surrounding him! Oh, if he could see
-the end of it! It was horrible to think that he might die--he and all
-of them on the raft; and that Dan might believe him false because of
-Minnie. It would not bear thinking of. He ceased playing, and bathed
-his fevered head and face. Often and often had he said to himself, in
-former storms and former scenes, the words that Dan had impressed upon
-him; and now he tried to fancy that Dan could see him, and knew that
-he was true.
-
-Rough-and-Ready, seeing that Joshua was engrossed in thought, did not
-disturb him, and presently dozed off. How long he had been asleep he
-did not know; but he woke up with a curious impression upon him. He
-must have slept long, for the night was far advanced, and no sound was
-heard but the plashing of the water against and through the spars. The
-impression was this: that he and Joshua were lying side by side (as,
-in fact they were) asleep, and that a woman suddenly came between
-them. Her back was to him, her face turned to Joshua; that she sat
-down so, and so remained, for an hour and more, making no movement,
-uttering no sound; but he could tell that all the while she was
-watching Joshua's sleeping form. That then she inclined herself gently
-to Joshua, and pressed her lips to his hand: and that rising to go,
-she turned her face to Rough-and-Ready, and he saw that it was Mrs.
-Liddle's gypsy-maid. So far his fancies went. Starting into a sitting
-position, he saw Minnie a few paces from him, making her way to where
-the women were lying.
-
-Now this set Rough-and-Ready thinking--for more reasons than one. Had
-he been dreaming, or had it really occurred? If it had occurred, it
-must have been love that prompted her. He had observed her the
-previous night sitting near Joshua; but then it had not been so
-noticeable, for there was no kind of order on the raft. How long had
-she known Joshua? He was the more perplexed because he had never seen
-the two in conversation, and because of the mystery surrounding the
-acquaintance. He was troubled, too; for, rough as he was, and old
-enough to be Minnie's father, he had taken a tender interest in her,
-and the discovery he had just made came upon him like a shock.
-
-Every person on the raft was asleep with the exception of the men in
-the watch and himself. He did not feel inclined to lie down again, so
-he sat and thought of things. In such a solemn scene, and at such
-solemn moments the spirit of nature works wonders in the minds of the
-roughest men--quickens the sympathies, and stirs into life the
-tenderest memories. It was so with Rough-and-Ready at the present
-time. Incidents in his life which had been so long unremembered that
-he wondered how he thought of them now, came vividly before him. His
-home--his mother--small domestic joys and griefs--a brother who died
-when they were both children, with whom he used to play and pelt with
-daisies--Good God! what kind of a bridge was that in his life that
-spanned that time and this? By what strange step had he walked from
-then to now? The stars grew less bright and paled out of the skies;
-the water grew grayer in the brief space before the morning's dawn.
-Soon in the east a thin line of water at the edge of the horizon
-quickened into life, and Nature's grandest wonder began to work in the
-dawning of a new day. The waterline, a mere thread at first, but
-broadening with every second that marked the flight of gray shadows,
-was rosy with blushing light. Purple clouds, fringed with wondrous
-colors, surrounded the clear space, in which presently the glorious
-sun rose grandly from the golden bed of waters; and as it rose, sky
-and sea rejoiced. At one time, for a few moments, the sea was like a
-field of golden corn waving in the sun's eye; but soon it deepened,
-till it and the heavens, that looked down into its mighty depths, were
-filled with flaming restless light, which in their turn gave way to
-softer shadows. Many a sunrise had Rough-and-Ready seen, but never one
-that he had watched so steadily as this; but it seemed as if his
-thoughts were in harmony with it.
-
-Late in the day, Rough-and-Ready asked Joshua how long he had known
-Mrs. Liddle's maid. Joshua looked at him curiously, but did not reply.
-He had not spoken to Minnie since they had been on the raft, and had,
-indeed, taken pains to avoid her. She did not intrude herself upon
-him; she submitted in patience to the silence he imposed upon her by
-his manner. But a strange phenomenon took place in her. While the
-others grew weaker and paler and more unhappy, she seemed to gather
-fresh strength, and actually grew rosier and more hardy. The dark
-color, too, was dying out of her face.
-
-"I have a reason for asking," said Rough-and-Ready, as an excuse for
-his question.
-
-Joshua nodded, not unkindly, but with a troubled face.
-
-"There is a strange story connected with your question," he said; "so
-strange and so gainful, that I cannot give you an answer."
-
-"I thought there was some mystery in the affair," observed
-Rough-and-Ready; "but I will not press upon your confidence. Do you
-know that the night before last she watched by you the whole time you
-were asleep?"
-
-"Watched by me?"
-
-"Ay. And last night, too, for some time--I don't know for how long."
-
-Joshua gave Rough-and-Ready an amazed look, and turned away to where
-Minnie was sitting. She saw him coming towards her, and her heart beat
-fast.
-
-"Why have you watched near me for two nights?" he asked, without
-looking at her.
-
-"You have enemies on the raft," was the answer, very quietly given.
-
-"I know; Scadbolt and the Lascar. But I can take care of myself."
-
-"Not when you are asleep," she said, almost in a whisper.
-
-What could he do? What could he say? Together on the raft in the
-presence of Death, from which only something very like a miracle could
-save them, could he be stern and harsh to her? And his great misery
-was, that he knew and felt his power. He knew that an unkind word from
-him to this young girl was as bitter as death could be.
-
-"You are like the rest of us, I suppose," he said, gently; "growing
-very weak."
-
-"I do not think so," she answered, trembling at the gentleness of his
-voice; "I feel strong as yet. Shall we be saved?"
-
-"We are in God's hands," he said. "I think there is but little chance
-of being picked up, or even of making friendly land."
-
-Neither addressed the other by name.
-
-"If the end comes, and you know it, and I am not near you, will you
-try and find me, and say a kind word to me before I die?"
-
-He gave her the promise, and hurried suddenly from her, for his heart
-was fit to break, and he dared not trust himself to say more.
-
-The third day passed, and the fourth. No sign of succor near. Hope
-began to die.
-
-On the sixth morning, when the roll was called, one of the passengers
-did not answer to his name. It was Mr. Bracegirdle.
-
-"He is asleep," said one.
-
-They shook him, but he did not move. He was dead. This was the first
-death, and it affected them deeply. Before he was sewn in the canvas,
-he was searched, in the anticipation of finding something useful. A
-surprising discovery was then made. He had in his pocket-book and
-round his waist bank-notes and bills for more than ten thousand
-pounds. But nobody knew any thing about him; he died, as he had lived
-among them a mystery. After his body was slipped into the sea, a
-whisper went about that the money found on him had not been honestly
-come by.
-
-That same night two sailors were washed into the sea. When it became
-known, there were some among them who secretly rejoiced in the thought
-that there would not be so many mouths to feed. Nearly a third of the
-provisions was eaten, and the women were very weak. Little Emma Pigeon
-held out the best; but that was because her mother, from even her
-small portion, gave some to her child between the times of serving out
-the provisions; the child also was petted and nourished by the other
-women. Rough-and-Ready as especially considerate to the females.
-Joshua saw him chewing something, and wondered what it was. Noticing
-the look of inquiry on Joshua's face, Rough-and-Ready enlightened him.
-
-"I am eating leather," he said.
-
-Joshua stared at him. Then Rough-and-Ready took from his pocket a
-dozen very thin strips of leather which he had cut out of his boot,
-and told Joshua that he had found a new food. He gave Joshua a couple
-of strips--very thin they were, almost like a wafer--and Joshua set to
-work on them, and after some difficulty, chewed them to a pulp and
-swallowed them.
-
-"There's nothing like leather," said Rough-and-Ready with a quiet
-laugh. "It wants strong teeth, but it fills up an empty place in the
-stomach."
-
-The next day Joshua noticed that Rough-and-Ready received his
-tablespoonful of preserved meat in his handkerchief, and later on he
-saw Rough-and-Ready slyly feeding little Emma with a portion of the
-meat, and then go to her mother and slip what remained into her hand.
-
-Now and then a few small fish were caught. There being no means of
-cooking them, the women refused their share with horror, but the men
-ate them raw. They also snared some birds, and ate them in the same
-manner.
-
-On the twelfth night Scadbolt and the Lascar lay side by side awake.
-Nearer than they to the edge of the raft lay a shipmate, chewing
-tobacco.
-
-"All mine is gone," said Scadbolt enviously.
-
-"And mine," said the Lascar, with a horrible look at the man who was
-chewing.
-
-"I think he must have a good lot left. I heard him boast of it last
-week."
-
-"Two men are better than one."
-
-"Wait till that black cloud touches the moon; then stop his mouth;
-I'll do the rest!"
-
-The black cloud travelled on and on, crept before the moon, and soon
-shut out its light. When the moon shone again upon the waters there
-was one man less on the raft, and Scadbolt and the Lascar were chewing
-tobacco greedily!
-
-These two men had a line out in the water, with a small hook at the
-end of it. The Lascar felt it jerk. He pulled in the line; there was a
-fish at the end of it, weighing more than a pound. He took from his
-pocket a six-bladed knife, opened the largest blade, and cut the fish
-in two equal parts. He gave one to Scadbolt, and ate the other
-himself. So that they should not be observed, they lay down on their
-faces while they ate.
-
-"That was a good bit of luck," said Scadbolt; "I feel stronger."
-
-"If the skipper caught us, he would throw us overboard, whispered the
-Lascar.
-
-"He'd try to; but one man is as good as another now. Let us do this
-and take care of ourselves; we shall outlast the others. I wish they
-were all dead--all but two."
-
-"Ay, Joshua's Marvel's one. I know what you mean. You'd like to have
-the doing of him. So would I. Who's the other?"
-
-"The gypsy-maid. She's a rare beauty."
-
-The Lascar did not say any thing to this. He had seen enough since
-they had been on the raft to convince him that his first suspicions
-were right, and that the gypsy-looking girl really was Minnie.
-Notwithstanding their desperate condition, he had cast many admiring
-glances at her.
-
-"How fine," he thought, "to strike at Joshua Marvel through her!"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXII.
-SAVED FROM THE SEA.
-
-
-The first among the passengers to completely give way was Stephen
-Homebush. He had observed no manner of discretion in eating his food,
-and had always swallowed it hastily, so that it did him but little
-good. Contrary to what might have been expected of him as a man of
-pious parts, he was the most selfish of all the passengers. Instead of
-praying for mercy, he rebelled in thought and speech against the
-misfortune which had overtaken him. He did not think of the others. It
-was _his_ fate that was so hard. The prayers that he had so liberally
-offered up for other lost men were not for him now that he was lost.
-All other men were sinners, so he had preached. There was no grace in
-any of them. He came to impart it to them. Let them open their
-rebellious hearts, and receive it, while there was yet time. To all
-kinds of men had he preached this, striking at them hard, trying to
-frighten them with threatened penalties if they refused to believe as
-he believed. He came to give them grace; did he himself require none?
-
-What kind of faith is that which believes all other faiths wrong and
-sinful? What is the test of faith? Sincerity? Ay, for me; but not for
-you. _I_ am sincere; _I_ am born in the grace of God. But you! Fall
-down and repent!
-
-Such had been the preaching of Stephen Homebush. But now that the
-earth was crumbling from beneath his feet, and the New Life was before
-him, he prayed neither for others nor for himself. He maintained a
-sullen rebellious silence, faithful to his nature for the first time
-in his life. His mood, no less than the scanty supply of food and his
-manner of eating it, drove him mad; and within a fortnight of his
-sojourn on the raft, he was crawling and staggering about, uttering a
-dreadful jumble of prayers and blasphemies. His sister Rachel attended
-to him as well as her strength allowed her; but he struck at her
-often, and often cursed her and himself. It was terrible to see and
-hear. He did not suffer long. One day he ran from one part of the raft
-to another, raving that a sail was in sight. At first they thought
-that he might be right, but they soon discovered that he was raving.
-But he saw the ship coming nearer and nearer. His sister was the only
-one who had patience to bear with him. He described the ship to her,
-and described the men and women that were on the deck; and she
-shuddered as she recognized in his descriptions acquaintances and
-relatives every one of whom was dead.
-
-"Here it comes," he said, standing up in his eagerness,
-"nearer--nearer! I shall be able to jump on board presently."
-
-She strove to restrain him; but he broke from her wildly, and gave a
-leap on to the imaginary ship. He sank at once, and was seen no more.
-
-The forlorn woman sat stupefied, and never moved. Hours afterwards,
-Rough-and-Ready, taking pity upon her condition, spoke to her, and
-bade her take comfort, The sense of what he said was lost to her, but
-she understood the sympathy that was expressed in his voice, and she
-looked at him gratefully while the tears rolled down her face. He
-placed his hand upon her shoulder, and said gently; "Poor woman! poor
-woman!" She took his hand in hers, and clung to it, as if her only
-hope of life was there. He could not disengage his hand except by
-force; so he sat by her for an hour and more, until she released him.
-Then he crept to where the women were lying; there was comfort in
-being close to them.
-
-One of their most frightful experiences was the sight of the sharks
-snapping at the bodies as they were thrown into the sea. A great
-number of these creatures followed the raft day and night, scenting
-their prey. Each of the unfortunates thought, as he saw the sharks
-tearing at the body of his fellow creature, "Perhaps it is my turn
-next." About the twentieth day they caught at least a dozen rock cod,
-but after that they caught no fish for many days. Soon their fresh
-water was nearly gone; for some time past they had only half a pint a
-day; now the quantity was reduced to a quarter of a pint. Some tins of
-the preserved meat were also found to be putrid: the women could not
-touch it; but a few of the sailors Scadbolt and the Lascar among them,
-devoured it greedily. When another new moon rose, the courage of
-nearly every one of them was gone; hope had fled too. They looked upon
-themselves as doomed.
-
-A curious conversation took place between the two friends, Harry Wall
-and James Heartsease. In the morning they had refused their portion of
-food.
-
-"Save it for the women, sir," they said to the captain.
-
-He expostulated with them, and tried to prevail upon them to take it,
-but he did not succeed.
-
-"Sir," said James Heartsease, "we are going to lie down to die. We
-both of us feel that our time has come. To rob the poor women of any
-more food would be simple barbarity. I should like to shake hands with
-you."
-
-Captain Liddle shook hands with them; and after that they crawled to
-the women, and shook hands with them, and kissed little Emma Pigeon.
-Then they crawled away, and lay down side by side.
-
-"The end has come, Jim," said Harry.
-
-"All right, Hal," said James; "it is only a matter of a few
-years--perhaps not so long as that. If we had had plenty to eat, it
-might have come just the same. After all, what is time? Draw a breath,
-and it is gone. It isn't so hard to give up a few years when you think
-of that. Besides"--But here he paused.
-
-"Besides what, Jim?"
-
-"We are alone; we have no women-ties--no wives, no sweethearts. If we
-had, I think we should both try to live as long as we could."
-
-"I think so too. 'Tis a good job we are alone in the world."
-
-"Did you notice the women, Hal? I don't think they'll last long."
-
-"One of them won't," said Harry. "Mrs. Pigeon will soon go. Well, you
-know the reason of that."
-
-"Yes; she gives all her food to her little girl. Women are good
-creatures, Hal."
-
-"Such as she are. Jim, old boy, a sudden weakness has come over me.
-Put your face closer to mine--I want to kiss you. Good old boy--good
-old boy!"
-
-They did not speak for some time after that. Heartsease was the first
-to break silence.
-
-"Hal, old fellow," he said, "we shall meet somewhere by and by."
-
-"Sure to," said Harry; "somewhere, somehow. It is awfully grand to
-think of--it is good to believe. I am glad I never did any great wrong
-to sting me now. Jim, depend upon it, there is only one true religion;
-that is, the religion of being kind and tender and unselfish--the
-religion of doing unto others as you would others should do unto you,
-and of living a good life. Give me the man who does that, and who
-believes in the goodness and greatness of God. All the rest is
-mummery. We have agreed upon that, haven't we old boy?"
-
-"Ay, times out of mind."
-
-"Now, I tell you what I am going to do. I don't want to quite starve
-to death--it would be too painful; it's frightful to bear even now. I
-don't want to commit suicide, although to throw one's self into the
-water just now would be, in a certain measure, justifiable. I am going
-to draw myself close to the edge of the raft; then I am going to
-sleep. If the waves should chance to wash me over in the night--good!
-Let them; then I shall know something."
-
-"All right, Hal; I'll lie by your side. Goodnight, old fellow."
-
-"Goodnight."
-
-When the sun rose again, those two good friends had gone to their
-rest, to meet again. Somewhere--Somehow!
-
-So day after day passed, and their numbers continued to grow fewer,
-until there were no more than eighteen on the raft. In the first
-quarter of the second new moon--that is, when they had been on the
-raft for more than thirty days--Mrs. Pigeon died. When the news went
-round, there were few dry eyes among the poor creatures. Every one
-loved her, even to Scadbolt and the Lascar, whose clothes she had
-mended. It was a wonder how she had lasted so long, for it was with
-the greatest difficulty she could be prevailed upon to take food; she
-gave it all to her little daughter. When, almost by force, a small
-portion had been put into her mouth, Joshua had seen her take it out
-to feed Little Emma. That is why the child lived while the mother
-starved to death. Between Mrs. Pigeon and Minnie a strong affection
-had sprung up. Minnie scarcely ever left the side of the dying woman,
-and what little she could do to ease her last hours--it was but
-little, God knows!--she did tenderly and cheerfully. Minnie knew that
-Mrs. Pigeon was starving herself, so that her little girl might live.
-The beauty of that sacrifice Minnie was well able to comprehend. She
-would have done the same. But she was terribly unhappy. She knew by
-Joshua's manner, and by the few words that he spoke to her--kind one
-day, constrained the next--that her conduct had added to his
-unhappiness. She had seen him look at her with such a look of fear and
-wild amazement in his eyes, as to convey to her the impression that
-she had done him a great wrong. But so blinded was she by her love,
-that she could not quite understand the meaning of this; indeed, she
-did not pause to consider. The night before Mrs. Pigeon died, Minnie
-lay by her side, talking in whispers. But few words were spoken at a
-time; Mrs. Pigeon was too weak. The mother lay with her child in her
-arms, and her husband sitting close to her, his hands clasping his
-knees, and with an expression of stony despair in his face. So he had
-sat for three or four days, answering his wife vacantly, and with the
-air of one whose mind was a blank. Little by little, Minnie had told
-Mrs. Pigeon her story; and the dying woman, notwithstanding her own
-great trouble, had wept with Minnie, and sympathized with her. But
-Mrs. Pigeon, as well as expressing her sympathy, had striven to make
-Minnie aware of the fault she had committed.
-
-"You see, my dear," she gasped in her weak voice, "he has left a
-sweetheart at home, and he fears that if it were known that you were
-in the ship with him, she and his other friends might believe that he
-had played false with them."
-
-"I never thought of that before," sobbed Minnie. "I only thought of
-one thing: I loved him, and I wanted to be near him. I didn't want him
-even to know; and those at home bad no idea of what I was going to
-do--they can't even suspect."
-
-"But Mr. Marvel _fears_ they may. Then think, my dear, was it not
-wrong to leave your father?"
-
-"It was--I see it now; but I did not think of it then. But O Mrs.
-Pigeon if he would only forgive me! If I ask him, he will; but the
-answer would come out of the goodness of his heart, and while he
-forgave he would still condemn me. I know it, I know it, for he has
-never once called me by my name."
-
-Soon after that, Mrs. Pigeon fell into a doze; and waking when it was
-near midnight, whispered, "Minnie!"
-
-"Yes," answered Minnie. She had been sleeping too, but so lightly that
-a whisper was sufficient to awake her.
-
-"I have not long to live, my dear," said Mrs. Pigeon; "and I should
-like to pass my last minutes alone with my husband and child, and to
-speak to no one but them--to think of no one but them. But before I
-go, I should be glad to say good-by to Joshua Marvel. Can you bring
-him to me? Say that I am dying."
-
-Repressing her sobs, Minnie crept to where Joshua was standing on the
-lookout. He had grown thin and gaunt like the others; his feet were
-bare, the only pair of shoes he had possessed having been rotted by
-the salt water; his clothes hung about him in tatters; and his face
-was covered with hair, which, having not yet grown to a decent length,
-added to the wretchedness of his appearance. The moon had gone down,
-and Joshua, shading his eyes with his hand, was looking out to sea,
-possessed with the fancy that he saw a sail many miles away. This had
-now become a very common illusion; scarcely a man on board who did not
-see imaginary sails and ships a dozen times a day. With a weary sigh
-Joshua dropped his hand.
-
-"It is folly," he muttered; "there's no hope."
-
-Minnie timidly touched his sleeve, but did not succeed in attracting
-his attention. Then she called softly, "Joshua!" And he gave a gasp,
-and turned and saw her; but there was not light enough for him to see
-the tears upon her face.
-
-"Mrs. Pigeon has sent me for you," said Minnie. "She is dying, and
-wants to wish you good-by."
-
-He followed her in silence to where Mrs. Pigeon was lying.
-
-"Is it so bad?" he asked gently, as he leaned over her close enough to
-see her poor thin face.
-
-"Yes," she murmured. "Sit by me for a few minutes."
-
-He sat down, and took her wasted hand in his: it was like the hand of
-a skeleton, thin and cold--a hand already dead, though it closed on
-Joshua's fingers.
-
-"Every one speaks well of you," said Mrs. Pigeon in broken tones: "I
-have heard the captain speak many times of your courage and goodness
-and constancy."
-
-"I have been glad to hear it, and am glad to hear it again," replied
-Joshua; "it is my best reward as a sailor."
-
-"You have a kind heart, I am sure," continued the dying woman. "If it
-were in your power to lessen the bitter grief that even a mere
-acquaintance might suffer, you would do so."
-
-"I think I would."
-
-"I am sure you would; if only for the sake of those you love at home,
-and to whom you would wish that others might be kind when grief comes
-to them. You will forgive me for speaking thus; but I am dying, and I
-am a woman. I cannot say much more; I am too weak. If I could see you
-do one little thing, I should be glad."
-
-"I will do any thing you ask."
-
-"Because a dying woman asks you; but do it from your own kind impulse
-as well. That is what I wish. You know who it is that is sitting by us
-now."
-
-"Yes," he answered with a troubled glance at Minnie.
-
-"She has been very good to me, very kind, very, very patient. And she
-is so young! Soon you and she may follow me. Think of that."
-
-"What is it you would have me to do?"
-
-"I would have you be kind to this poor child; I would have you, at
-this awful time, show to her the love that a brother might show to a
-sister. She has committed a fault; forgive her for it; let her atone
-for it. Be not you the one to cast the stone at her. And when you
-speak to her, speak from your heart; for she can read and understand,
-as all loving women can, the music of the voice."
-
-"Minnie," said Joshua, turning to her. Mrs. Pigeon had loosed his
-hand; and now be held out his two hands to Minnie. It was the first
-time he had called her by her name.
-
-"Joshua," she said, with deep sobs, her hands in his, and bowing her
-head upon his shoulder until her lips almost touched his face.
-
-Was it treasonable to Ellen that he should permit it? Surely not,
-surely not, at such a time.
-
-"You have made me glad," said Mrs. Pigeon. "Now go. Good-by. Heaven
-send you peace!"
-
-"And you!" they both said.
-
-Mrs. Pigeon nestled her face close to that of her little daughter, and
-soon afterwards died peacefully.
-
-Then, for the first time, Mr. Pigeon seemed to awake to the reality of
-things. Kneeling by the side of his wife, he called softly, "Emma!
-Emma!" And receiving no answer, shook her gently, and smoothed the
-hair from her white face.
-
-"Be comforted," said Joshua to him.
-
-"Comforted!" he repeated with a pondering look, as if he were
-considering what meaning there was in the word. He kissed her
-passionately, and whispered something in her ear, and waited for the
-answer that could not come. "My God!" he cried suddenly, "she is
-dead!"
-
-Minnie placed Little Emma before him, thinking that the sight of his
-little girl might lessen his grief; but he took no notice of the
-child, and sat the whole day nursing, the dead body of his wife in his
-lap. One tin of preserved meat was all that remained now of their
-stock of provisions. They brought his small share to him; but he
-motioned them away impatiently and fretfully. They went to him, and
-endeavored to make him understand that, for the sake of the others, he
-should allow the remains of his wife to be placed in their poor shroud
-of sacking; but he met them savagely, and threatened to bite at them
-and strangle them if they did not let him alone.
-
-"For the sharks to eat," he whispered to the inanimate form; "they
-want to throw you into the sea for the sharks to eat, my darling. But
-I'll tear their hearts out before they part us."
-
-When the silver crescent looked down again upon the despairing group,
-Joshua tried once more to comfort the man, and said, with a heavy
-heart, that perhaps at the last moment a ship might pick them up. But
-though he uttered the words, he did not believe in them.
-
-"And if it does," muttered Mr. Pigeon hoarsely, "what do I care now?
-You don't know what it is to lose the woman you love." He staggered to
-his feet with the beloved form in his arm. "You want to take her from
-me; that is why you speak the lying words. But nothing shall part
-us--nothing."
-
-Her face was lying upon his shoulder, and her fair hair was hanging
-loosely down over his breast. He took some of the hair in his mouth;
-and as Joshua saw him standing thus in the moon's light, he thought he
-had never seen a picture so utterly despairing. Thus the man stood,
-motionless, for a time, until the captain's lady crept to his side,
-and tried to console him. Poor thing! she was terribly weak, and the
-words came from her lips slowly and wearily. He gazed at her vacantly
-while she spoke, then turned his eyes to his dead wife.
-
-"Emma," he said, "don't fear; nothing that they say shall make me give
-you up. We will go together--we will go together."
-
-He cast one last look at the peaceful heavens, and whispering, "Lord,
-receive us!" clasped his wife more closely to him, and jumped into the
-sea. Two or three heads turned at the plash; but no other notice was
-taken of the event. They were all too weak and despairing. The
-captain's wife gasped, with heart-broken sobs,--
-
-"Poor dears! poor dears! Their troubles are over; they are happier
-than we are."
-
-"Yes, my lady," said Joshua; "but I would not end my life like that.
-We are in the hands of the Lord; our lives belong to Him."
-
-He stretched himself at full length upon the raft, and took Ellen's
-picture and the lock of hair from his breast, and kissed them again
-and again. They, and the Bible that Dan had given him, were his most
-precious possessions. When he looked up, Minnie and Little Emma were
-close to him. He took the child's hand; and they remained together
-during the long, long night.
-
-A dreadful announcement was made the next day. The water that was
-served out was the last--one tablespoonful each exhausted the store;
-all the provisions were used up also. It seemed, indeed, as if the
-best thing they could do would be to die at once by their own hands.
-The rules made by the council were no longer thought of. Something to
-eat, something to drink: these were the only laws now. When the next
-man died, the sailors looked longingly at the body. The Lascar had his
-knife open, and was about to use it, when Captain Liddle called to him
-to stop.
-
-"Why?" asked the Lascar, with a savage flourish of his knife.
-
-"Why?" echoed the other men: there were only six of them left
-altogether.
-
-"Because fish is better to eat than human flesh," said the captain.
-
-"So it is," said one; "but we haven't any more fishing-line."
-
-"Come now," said the captain, "even without that we can manage to
-catch a shark perhaps. Wait a few minutes. I'll think of a way."
-
-And sure enough, very soon he devised a snare. First a running-bowling
-knot was made; then they cut a leg off the man that WAS dead (terrible
-to write, but true), and lashed it to the end of an oar; while on the
-end of another oar they hung the snare in such a way that the fish, to
-get at the bait, was compelled to come through it. There were plenty
-of sharks; and it was not long before one fell into the trap. It was
-dragged on to the raft; and a few blows from an axe soon killed it.
-After that, the man was sewed in sacking, and the funeral-service was
-read over him as it had been over all the others who had been buried
-in the sea.
-
-During all this time it was evident that they were near the coast, and
-yet they never saw it. The captain said that they were in the vicinity
-of the north-east coast of Australia--a part of the continent which
-had been very little explored. Here came in Rough-and-Ready's
-experience. He knew something of the country, he said. It was
-inhabited by the most savage of the Australian natives, and no white
-man had as yet had the courage to penetrate far into the country.
-
-"Yet we might make the coast," said Rough-and-Ready, "and not see a
-native for a long time, if we could manage to live; for I don't
-believe there are a great many of them. Cannibals they are; but, for
-all that, I should be glad to get among them. We might succeed in
-working our way down to a cattle-station."
-
-"Would there be really a chance of that?" asked one or two.
-
-"About a hundred to one against us," replied Rough-and-Ready
-carelessly; "but that would be better than nothing."
-
-Rough-and-Ready gave them a description of some natives that he had
-seen, and told of their manner of living, their treachery and
-wildness. It was not very comforting to hear; the prospect of reaching
-land, and finding themselves in the midst of such savages, was very
-dismal.
-
-The suffering that they had now to bear--that of thirst--was the most
-awful experience of all. Some of them grew delirious, and saw gardens
-and pools of fresh water. "My lady" was one of these. She whispered to
-her husband that a beautiful garden was within a few yards of them,
-and that they should reach it presently. She described the flowers and
-trees, and the cool fruit waiting to be plucked. And as the vision
-faded, she clutched him by the hand, and cried, "John, John! What are
-they doing? We are going the wrong way. O my God we have passed it--it
-is gone!" and lay exhausted. The words came from her parched throat
-with difficulty; and Joshua shuddered as he touched her face: it
-seemed to be on fire. Soon, however, the gardens dotted with
-clear-water fountains, and with trees laden with refreshing fruit,
-grew again for the delirious woman. She saw them in the water, in the
-air, in the heavens--so bright, so deliciously cool, that her heart
-almost burst in the vain attempt she made to reach them with her hand.
-A little rain fell mercifully, and yet mockingly; for nearly every
-thing on board was so impregnated with salt as to render the pieces of
-rags and canvas that were held out to catch heaven's tears no better
-when they were soaked than if they had been dipped into the sea.
-Rough-and-Ready took the lining out of his wide-awake hat; and he and
-Joshua held it out until it was soaked with the blessed drops. The
-first use they made of the piece of wet rag was to moisten the women's
-lips with it, and then the little girl's and their own. Little Emma
-lived still; and Minnie had taken charge of her. As Joshua moistened
-Mrs. Liddle's lips, the captain, who was lying beside her, motioned
-him.
-
-"It is all over with me, Marvel," he gasped; "I haven't long to live.
-If by God's mercy you are rescued, report me at home and say I did all
-in my power to save the ship." Joshua pressed the dying captain's hand.
-"Mind, you are first in command now. In a few hours you will be
-captain. You have risen quickly," he said with a faint smile. "Beware
-of Scadbolt and that Lascar dog. When I am dead, take my boots--you
-have none--and what of my clothes may be useful to you; take the
-log-book too, and keep it safe. There is a record in it of Scadbolt's
-conduct, and your promotion. It will be necessary in case a ship picks
-you up. Scadbolt was your superior officer when we left the port of
-Sydney; and he might bring a charge against you, which, without the
-log-book, you would not be able to refute."
-
-Joshua thanked the captain for his thoughtfulness, and expressed a
-hope that it was not so bad with him as he feared. Then the captain
-told Joshua how, a few days before, he had struck his head against a
-piece of iron, and how he had lost a quantity of blood. Joshua put his
-hand to the back of the captain's head, round which a piece of canvas
-was tied, and felt a great gash there.
-
-"I did not tell any one; but it so weakened me, that I thought I was
-about to die then. This is a piteous sight!" pointing to his wife. She
-lay, pale as death, with her eyes wide open, gazing at the gardens in
-the air. The tears rolled down Joshua's face. "Bury us together,"
-continued the captain. "There are two or three pieces of iron you
-might put into the canvas with us, so we may sink at once. You will do
-this?'"
-
-"Yes."
-
-Captain Liddle pressed Joshua's hand, and creeping close to his wife
-clasped her in his arms. In the mean time Rough-and-Ready was busy
-squeezing drops of fresh water into a bottle. He saved nearly a pint.
-
-Shortly after that, Joshua was the first to see land. He went to tell
-the Captain, but could not arouse him; his heart still beat, but very
-faintly. Night came on soon; and when day dawned again the land was
-gone. Rough-and-Ready came to Joshua with a grave face. He said
-nothing; but Joshua understood him. They went to where the lifeless
-bodies of the captain and his wife lay, and sewed them in canvas, and
-placed inside the pieces of iron, as Joshua had promised. Joshua read
-the burial-service as the bodies were thrown into the sea. They sank
-at once.
-
-"Not many of us left," observed Rough-and-Ready. "I should like to see
-land again. If we don't sight it soon, we may find that the worst has
-not yet come. It is as Scadbolt said when the rules were being read,
-'Every man for himself now, and God for us all.' But come what may
-we'll stick to each other and to the women."
-
-"It does my heart good to hear you speak so," said Joshua. "I know
-what you mean: the worst men are left against us; but we are a match
-for them, I think. See, here's the log-book, with the poor skipper's
-last words: 'I appoint Joshua Marvel captain of this raft, made out of
-the spars of the "Merry Andrew," and intrust to him the charge of the
-surviving passengers and crew.--John Liddle, Master of the "Merry
-Andrew."'"
-
-Rough-and-Ready touched his hat in sailor fashion.
-
-"While we are at sea, captain," he said, "I will obey your orders."
-
-A thrill ran through Joshua as he heard himself called captain.
-Captain! But of what a crew! The promotion had come all too soon.
-
-Before long he had to exercise his authority. They were being, driven
-on to a reef by a strong current. It was necessary to get the raft
-into deep water before dark. He gave his orders; and although both
-Scadbolt and the Lascar saw the wisdom of them, they refused to obey.
-
-"I am captain," said Scadbolt. "You will obey my orders now."
-
-Then Rough-and-Ready took a double-barrelled pistol from his belt, and
-gave its fellow to Joshua. They covered Scadbolt and the Lascar with
-them.
-
-"Obey orders!" cried Rough-and-Ready in as loud a voice as he could
-command. "Obey orders! Speak another word of disobedience, and you are
-dead men!"
-
-The rebellious men were cowed. With scowling faces they worked as
-Joshua directed: and with some trouble they got the raft clear over
-the reef, and floated it into deeper water. The night that followed
-was a night of great anxiety. Joshua knew that they were near land;
-and he and Rough-and-Ready kept watches of two hours' duration in
-turn. The reason of this was, that they did not deem it safe to sleep
-both at the same time; for they suspected that Scadbolt and the Lascar
-were only waiting for the opportunity to fall upon them and kill them.
-
-"We have all the fire-arms, thank goodness," said Rough-and-Ready,
-"and all the powder and shot. We are masters while we can keep these."
-
-He had kept a sharp guard over the firearms, and had indeed secretly
-dropped three guns into the sea. "Better there than in those rascals'
-hands," he wisely thought; "we mustn't cumber ourselves with too much
-lumber."
-
-In the night Joshua whispered to Rachel Homebush and Minnie that
-to-morrow probably would decide their fate. They revived somewhat at
-the news, and Minnie directed Joshua's attention to little Emma
-Pigeon.
-
-"She has not spoken all day," said Minnie anxiously.
-
-Joshua placed his hand on the little girl's heart; it beat, but very
-faintly.
-
-"She will live, Minnie," said Joshua, "if we can reach land; we are
-certain to find food then."
-
-While they spoke, Minnie kept Joshua's hand in hers; it was her only
-comfort, poor child. He was kneeling by her side, and she saw in his
-face that he had no harsh thoughts for her. They had not exchanged a
-word about their friends at home, but Minnie said to-night,--
-
-"Joshua, when you first came to our little room--do you
-remember?--what should we have thought if a wizard had told us this?"
-
-"What, indeed!" replied Joshua; and then, after a pause, "Do you
-suffer much, Minnie?"
-
-"Not now. Ah, Joshua, if I can only live to repay you!"
-
-"Keep up your courage, Minnie, and pray that we may reach friendly
-land--any land--to-morrow," was his answer.
-
-She did pray fervently, and when daylight came they saw land. It did
-not look very friendly. A long line of dark savage-looking rocks was
-what they saw; towering gloomily and threateningly for the most part,
-but with many a little inlet, which offered them a favorable chance of
-landing, as Joshua's seaman's eye discerned. There were only eight
-living persons now on the raft out of the thirty-five who first took
-shelter there. Five men--to wit, Joshua, Rough-and-Ready, Scadbolt,
-the Lascar, and the sailmaker; two women--Rachel Homebush and Minnie,
-and the little girl Emma. The men worked and watched with a will.
-Private animosities were for the time forgotten; but for all that,
-Rough-and-Ready was never off his guard. Every thing looked fair, when
-suddenly up sprang a land breeze, and they were driven to sea again;
-the hope that had been kindled died away. They caught a cod, but the
-women turned from it with loathing. Then Joshua thought of a fine
-thing. The sun was high in the heavens. He took a piece of rag and
-washed it and dried it; then he took a magnifying glass out of a
-telescope, and caught the sun's fire on to the rag. He had wood ready,
-and they made a fire on the raft. The sailors ate their portion of the
-fish raw; but Joshua put his and the women's and Rough-and-Ready's on
-the wood, and roasted it. Before they gave this delicious food to the
-women, they moistened their lips with a little of the water that was
-still left in Rough-and-Ready's bottle; the moistening and the food
-were new life to them all Minnie chewed a little of the fish and
-placed it in the child's mouth; the child swallowed it, with
-difficulty at first, and seemed to grow stronger soon afterwards; she
-had been better nourished than the others. As if in reward for this
-good thought of Joshua's, the wind shifted to a sea breeze, and a
-couple of hours before mid-night they were driven on to land. It
-required the greatest care and the most delicate handling to steer the
-raft safely through the rocks; but it was done. Scadbolt and the
-Lascar were about to scramble on to the rocks, when Rough-and-Ready,
-in a voice of thunder--he seemed suddenly to have recovered his full
-strength--commanded them to stand. Not his voice, but his pistol,
-enforced obedience.
-
-"Why?" demanded Scadbolt.
-
-"Because you are treacherous dogs," roared Rough-and-Ready; "because
-you are not men, but savages; because I know how such scum are to be
-treated. Ah! scowl as you will I but I have shot better men than you
-down before to-night, and I'll shoot _you_ down if you dare to stir,
-as I would a brace of treacherous dingos or Blacks--they're much the
-same. The women and child are to be saved first. Why, if we allowed
-you to get ashore, you'd strike us from the rocks before we got a
-footing! I know you, you see, you skunks. Marvel, take the women and
-little girl ashore first, one by one. I'll keep guard here the while.
-Sailmaker, assist Mr. Marvel."
-
-By this last masterly stroke Rough-and-Ready enlisted the sailmaker on
-his side, for a time at least. For the sailmaker and Joshua were man
-to man, and Joshua had fire-arms. So, with difficulty, the women and
-child were conveyed on to the rocks in safety; then Rough-and-Ready
-bade Joshua take ashore what things would be useful from the raft.
-Among other things, Joshua took ashore two axes, all the nails he
-could find, and some iron pots. The women also had some things they
-were anxious to preserve--needles and thread and such like. All this
-occupied nearly two hours, and was not accomplished without
-difficulty. Scadbolt and the Lascar stood sullenly by, the while.
-Rough-and-Ready was in his element; he absolutely revelled in the task
-he had set himself. It was as good as meat and drink to him to watch
-those two rascals and beat them through their fears. When Joshua and
-the sailmaker had completed their task, Rough-and-Ready joined them on
-the rocks. After him Scadbolt and the Lascar scrambled on to land, and
-began to look hungrily about them. It was a fine night; the moon was
-nearly at its full. The first thing Rough-and-Ready did was to cast a
-glance at the women lying helpless on the rocks; the next thing he did
-was to smooth his mustache with his hand in a thoughtful manner; the
-next, to send a dark look at Scadbolt and the Lascar, who were
-prowling about on the rocks in search of shell-fish; the next, to lay
-his hand in a familiar manner upon the sailmaker's shoulder.
-
-"I say, mate," said Rough-and-Ready, "have you a wife at home?"
-
-"Two."
-
-Rough-and-Ready whistled loud and long, and followed up the whistle
-with a laugh.
-
-"It's no joke," said the sailmaker.
-
-"One isn't, much less two," replied Rough-and-Ready, with a wink; "but
-never mind them now."
-
-"I'm content."
-
-"You seem a good-hearted fellow, sailmaker, and as you have two
-wives, you must think a great deal of womankind."
-
-"I love 'em,"--looking at the two poor creatures lying near them.
-
-"I'm a bushman myself," said Rough-and-Ready, with assumed
-carelessness; "I'd as soon be where I am as in any part of the world.
-I am at home here. What do you say, mate? Shall we be friends?"
-
-"Glad to be." And the two men shook hands, Rough-and-Ready hugging
-himself for his successful diplomacy.
-
-"You're a man after my own heart," said Rough-and-Ready, really
-appreciating the crisp utterances of the sailmaker, who evidently was
-not a word-waster. "Seems to me that the first thing we've got to do
-is to bring the women round; mustn't let them die, eh?"
-
-"Certainly not."
-
-"There's a split in the camp," continued Rough-and-Ready. "Those two
-rascals prowling about in search of something to eat, would be glad of
-an opportunity to get rid of us; and then God help the women. At all
-events let us three stick together--you and me and Captain Marvel.
-Agreed?"
-
-"Agreed."
-
-"Good. What I want to do is to get fresh water for us and the women; I
-know how to look for it. Will you keep guard over the women with
-Captain Marvel till I return?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-Rough-and-Ready placed a loaded pistol in the sailmaker's hand--he did
-it without hesitation--and that act completed the conquest. Joshua,
-standing by, had heard the conversation and now shook hands with the
-sailmaker. Scadbolt and the Lascar had also seen the conference.
-
-"They've bought him over," said the Lascar.
-
-"Never mind," replied Scadbolt, "there will be plenty of
-opportunities."
-
-In less than an hour Rough-and-Ready returned. He had taken two
-bottles with him, and brought them back filled with bright, clear,
-fresh water. He had his wide-awake hat in his hand; it evidently
-contained something good, he was so careful in carrying it. Joshua put
-his hand in, and started back with a cry; he had grasped a nettle.
-
-"Careful, careful," said Rough-and-Ready, laughing at Joshua's
-grimaces; "don't be too eager to take hold of things. A great deal of
-the wood-growth round about-here is covered with thorns, and some of
-them are poisonous to the blood. This isn't, though; 'tis an old
-friend."
-
-He took out of his hat two small branches with long spines upon them;
-the branches were covered with fruit resembling a small apple.
-
-"Good to eat?" asked the sailmaker.
-
-"Shouldn't have brought them otherwise," answered Rough-and-Ready, in
-unconscious imitation of the sailmaker's manner of speaking.
-
-The sailmaker took some of the fruit and ate it, and would have taken
-more, but that Rough-and-Ready's hand restrained him.
-
-"That's not the way for a man to eat who has been nearly starved for
-six weeks," he said, "unless he wants to kill himself right out. Here,
-make yourself useful; but take a little water to drink first."
-
-Rough-and-Ready measured a small quantity of water, and gave the
-sailmaker and Joshua to drink. He had thrown down a couple of pieces
-of wood when he said "Make yourself useful," and the sailmaker, after
-drinking, asked him what the wood was for.
-
-"A good job for you two that you have me for your mate," said
-Rough-and-Ready good-humoredly; "you might stand a chance of starving
-else. The enemy"--with a nod of his head in the direction of Scadbolt
-and the Lascar--"won't be half as well off as we shall be. Just watch
-me." He took his knife and cut from the wood two pieces, in one of
-which he made a kind of groove, which he placed upon the ground. "This
-is off the black fig-tree, and is the best wood there is for making
-fire. Now rub away into the groove, steadily, like this, and keep
-rubbing. It's hard work; but never mind; it's worth the labor."
-
-He disappeared again, leaving the sailmaker at work, and returned
-with an armful of dry sticks and leaves. Soon fire came into the wood,
-the sparks dropped on to the dry leaves, and a blaze was kindled, that
-brought astonishment into the eyes of Scadbolt and the Lascar. Before
-the fire was made, the indefatigable bushman had gone _down_ the rocks
-this time, and had returned with a hat full of mussels. These he put
-on the fire to cook; and then sat down and rubbed his hands in a high
-state of satisfaction. Joshua had not been idle; he had attended to
-the women and child, and had given them a little water, which was like
-nectar to them. They were too weak to exert themselves; so the men sat
-by them and ate supper, and gave them to eat, sparingly, under the
-direction of Rough-and-Ready, who was regarded by the others with
-unbounded admiration. The warmth of the fire was very comforting to
-them, for although summer was coming, their long sojourn on the raft
-had chilled their blood.
-
-"Well now," said Rough-and-Ready, when supper was over, "I think we
-ought to be very grateful for our escape. It was touch-and-go with us.
-We sha'n't be very strong for a few days; and that's what we've got to
-do first: to get strong. Then we can look about us."
-
-"Where are we?" whispered Minnie.
-
-"As well as I can make out, my dear, we are somewhere on the
-north-east coast of the continent of Australia; where I don't believe
-a white man ever trod foot before. That's something, isn't it? We're
-the first bits of civilization that these rocks have ever seen."
-
-"Is there any chance of a ship seeing us?"
-
-"I doubt it; but for my part I don't want a ship to see me; I've had
-enough of ships. I feel at home here, or I shall feel so in a little
-while. I don't doubt but what we shall be able to get plenty to eat
-and drink, and that's our first great need. Try and sleep for an hour
-now. Strength is what we want, remember."
-
-Rachel Homebush turned to him and held out her hand. She was grateful
-for being saved, but she did not speak. The three men arranged to get
-a little rest also, watch and watch in turn. It was Rough-and-Ready's
-watch first. Before Joshua lay down, he went to see if Minnie was
-asleep. Her eyes were closed, but she was aware of his approach.
-
-"That is you, Joshua?"
-
-"Yes, Minnie. Do you think you can sleep?"
-
-"I don't know; I am strangely excited. I thank God that you are saved.
-Joshua," rising to a sitting posture and taking his hand, "you will
-not be unkind to me now that we are out of danger?"
-
-"Surely not, Minnie. What makes you ask?"
-
-"I was afraid, that was all."
-
-Here the little child murmured something. Minnie placed her ear to the
-girl's lips.
-
-"She asked who was talking to me, and I told her you," said Minnie,
-taking Little Emma upon her lap. "She wants you to kiss her."
-
-Joshua stooped and kissed the little girl, and she put her arms round
-his neck, and asked where papa had gone to. Joshua turned away, and
-pressing Minnie's hand, was soon afterwards in the land of dreams. So,
-during the night, they slept and watched, and in their troubled dreams
-felt the rocks moving and swaying beneath them. Every now and then
-they started in terror, and clutched what was nearest to them, as if
-life was slipping away; they suffered over again the agonies of
-thirst, and moved their parched lips entreatingly. When it was
-Joshua's watch, he observed the sufferings of his sleeping companions;
-he guessed the cause, for he had suffered himself in like manner. With
-merciful thoughtfulness he moistened their lips with fresh water; the
-women smiled and grew more composed; perhaps at that moment they
-dreamed that an angel was bringing them life and health. Minnie's head
-was lying on her hand, and her face was exposed to the light. It was
-sun-burnt, but the gypsy stain was dying out of it. Her hair too was
-growing lighter and longer. Joshua looked up at the sky and round
-about him at the strange scene. Over his head the light of day was
-just breaking, but the dusky shadows still lay upon the waters. Behind
-him a faint light, heralding the sun, was quivering on distant wood
-and upland.
-
-"Dan made me promise," he said softly to himself, as the wonderful
-strangeness of his position came upon him, "when I was seeing strange
-sights in strange places, to think, 'Dan is here with me, although I
-cannot see him.' _Is_ Dan here with me now? Is it possible that he can
-have the vaguest idea of me as I stand, heart-wrecked, in this wild
-country? I will try to believe so; I will try to believe that he and
-Ellen see me as I am, know me as I am, and pity me. I could die here
-now contentedly, if that were a conviction. Ellen, dear wife! Dan,
-dear friend! dear mother and father! stand fast to me, and believe
-that I never wavered in my love and my truth!"
-
-This was his theme that he thought of and mused upon, while all the
-others were asleep. The rocks were burnished with golden light before
-they awoke.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXIII.
-ON THE ROCKS.
-
-
-As the sailmaker was stretching himself, Rough-and-Ready, who was
-already stirring, said,--
-
-"I say, mate what name shall we call you by?"
-
-"Isn't Sailmaker good enough?" was the Irish answer.
-
-"It's good enough; but it's no name."
-
-"Tom, for short, then."
-
-"That'll do, Tom; it's like your talk, short, and to the point."
-
-From that time they talked of him as Tom the Sailmaker.
-
-"We're going to look for something for breakfast, Marvel," said
-Rough-and-Ready. "Don't wake the women--let them have their sleep out.
-And keep your eye on those two rascals yonder. If they come to close
-quarters, have no mercy. They'd have none on you. Come along, Tom."
-
-They returned some two hours afterwards, with smiling faces. The women
-gathered hope from their cheerful countenances. The sailmaker was
-loaded with wood to replenish the fire, which had not been allowed to
-go out during the night.
-
-"We're going to have a fine breakfast," said Rough-and-Ready,
-flourishing half a dozen plump pigeons. He chuckled as he exhibited
-them; but he had no time for trifling. There was more serious business
-to attend to--the cooking of the pigeons.
-
-With those and a few mussels they made a breakfast fit for kings and
-queens. The two malcontents in the distance had no fire and no
-pigeons; they made their breakfast off cold shell-fish, and looked
-with envious eyes at the cooking going on among the other party.
-
-"Ah, ah, my fine fellows!" cried Rough-and-Ready, waving half a
-roasted pigeon in the air; "what d'ye think of mutineering now?"
-
-They could not hear him, but they understood his taunting action.
-
-Said Rough-and-Ready to the women, when breakfast was finished,--
-
-"Can you handle a pistol? Could you pull the trigger of one straight
-in the face of man or beast, if danger threatened?"
-
-They looked at him inquiringly.
-
-"You might have to do it," continued Rough-and-Ready; "so you had
-better learn, and be prepared."
-
-"But why?" they asked.
-
-"You see, my dears, there are two parties of us. Here we are, one
-party. Yonder are two rascals, another party. We are not the best of
-friends, we two parties. If they could get rid of us, they would. By
-fair means they can't; but they might try foul. Now I take it that we
-men have to look after you and protect you--and you may depend upon us
-for doing our best, my dears. We must see to every thing--food,
-lodging, protection from storms and from savage Blacks. That may take
-us away from you sometimes, and those rascals might steal upon you
-unaware. Or another thing might happen: we might fall sick. Then who
-will protect you? Or another thing--But, pshaw! there are a dozen
-other reasons why you should learn to use fire-arms."
-
-Without more ado he showed them how to load a pistol and fire it,
-and indeed was not content until they did it to his satisfaction.
-Minnie was the more expert of the two; she soon learned. Then said
-Rough-and-Ready,--
-
-"Now, we are going to take a walk. A mile, I dare say. We shall be
-followed, you'll see; the enemy will want to know where we are going."
-
-Rough-and-Ready took Little Emma in his arms, the sailmaker assisted
-Rachel Homebush, and Joshua attended to Minnie. As Rough-and-Ready
-expected, Scadbolt and the Lascar followed them at a distance.
-Rough-and-Ready led the way over the rocks, on to sand, into forest.
-They were nearly an hour before they came to the end of their journey,
-for the women were very weak and could walk but slowly. Without any
-forewarning, Rough-and-Ready stopped.
-
-"Here is another thing I have to teach you. A native call."
-
-And to their astonishment, he put his hands to his mouth and emitted a
-shrill cry, that rang through the woods and seemed to linger there.
-The word he uttered was "Coo-[=e][=e]!" and the sound was composed of
-two notes, the second an octave higher than the first. He made them
-all repeat the cry after him many times, and made them dwell on the
-notes as long as their breath lasted.
-
-"If we miss each other, and lose our way, that cry will be a signal.
-You have no idea how far it will travel, if you dwell long enough on
-the notes. Now, you" (to the men) "stop here for a little while. You,"
-(to the women) "follow me."
-
-They obeyed him unhesitatingly. He led the women over a rise in the
-woodland, where the trees were thickly grouped; and when they were on
-the declivity on the other side, they saw at the base of the rise a
-lovely creek of fresh water sparkling in the sun.
-
-"You will not be disturbed for an hour," he said, and darted away.
-
-They divined the meaning of this delicate thoughtfulness, and with
-full confidence in him and his party they made their way to the creek,
-and bathed and combed their hair. (I vouch for the comb, but am not
-prepared to say where it came from, for the cunning of woman is beyond
-me.) The men looked at them with astonishment when they came back,
-sleek and trim. They appeared to have grown a dozen years younger.
-They blushed and smiled as the men gazed at them, and Little Emma
-lisped, "It was so nice!" Even Rachel looked brighter and more
-womanly.
-
-After them, the men went in turns and bathed, and by that time they
-were hungry enough for their dinner. Rough-and-Ready had already
-provided it, having shot a sufficient number of birds for three or
-four meals. Nothing could satisfy them after dinner but to go to the
-rocks, and look seaward for the sight of a ship. Rough-and-Ready
-declared it was useless. "Time thrown away," he said. "If we see a
-ship, we have no means of signalling it; and even if we had, 'tis a
-thousand to one that they would not see the signal." But all-potent as
-his authority and advice were in every other matter, he could not
-prevail upon them to cast away the hope of being rescued by that
-means. Before night came they made their way back to the woods, and
-constructed some rough tents with branches of trees, to sleep in. As
-they were collecting suitable timber, Rough-and-Ready, who never
-omitted an opportunity to instruct his companions in the resources of
-the country, called their attention to a group of curiously-twisted
-trees, which he said were apple-trees, although there was no fruit on
-them. On nearly every one of them, three or four feet from the ground,
-was a large knob, bulging out like a tumor.
-
-"See how bountiful Nature is," said Rough-and-Ready. "You need seldom
-be in want of water or food, if you know the secrets of the bush."
-
-He dug his knife into one of the knobs, and fresh water ran out of the
-wood. They tasted it, and found it very sweet.
-
-It was a beautiful night, and they sat talking for some time before
-they retired to rest. Their strength was recruited by the nourishing
-food they had eaten, and by the bath they had had. They had not seen
-the Lascar or Scadbolt since the morning, and they deemed it prudent
-to keep watch during the night. Now that the first excitement of being
-saved was over, their thoughts turned to their unfortunate companions
-who had found a grave in the cruel sea, and they shed pitiful tears
-over the memory of the dead.
-
-Rough-and-Ready's experience of the Australian natives was largely
-drawn upon during the night. Although he said nothing of his past
-career, it was evident that he was well acquainted with every thing
-appertaining to Australian bush-life. His descriptions of the natives
-were not comforting; he described them as treacherous, mean, and
-cruel. As to their chances of escape, he declared that there was no
-hope from the sea. Their best plan would be to try and work their way
-southward, but not for some time, until they were quite strong.
-
-"We will camp here," he said, "for two or three weeks at least, and
-try and learn something about the country."
-
-But he told Joshua, when they two were alone, that he only said that
-to console the women.
-
-"We can manage to live here; but to get south we should have to cross
-country, where we should almost certainly be starved to death or
-butchered by the Blacks."
-
-The prospect was dismal indeed; they seemed to be cut off from the
-world.
-
-Notwithstanding that the women shuddered and trembled as they listened
-to Rough-and-Ready's account of the natives, with whom they were
-almost certain to come in contact soon, the subject was too
-fascinating to be avoided. So, being compelled to talk about them, he
-spoke of many strange things concerning them. The conversation turning
-upon their superstitions, he told his hearers of the savage beliefs in
-water-spirits and land-spirits, who are all females, and walk about
-without heads; of the Oorundoo, who comes out of the water to drown
-bad wives; of the Balumbal, a gentle race of spirits who live upon the
-sweet leaves of flowers; of the Bunyip, a monster who lives in the
-large lakes, and who issues therefrom to seize women and children;
-Potoyan, a spirit of darkness, whose Whisper strikes terror; and of
-many other singular beliefs.
-
-Said Rough-and-Ready, "There is no surer way to frighten the blacks
-than through their superstitious fears. Their 'doctors' can work upon
-them as they please."
-
-Joshua had taken care of his accordion, and had preserved it almost
-uninjured. He played, and they all listened wonderingly to the soft
-notes of "Home, sweet home," floating through the woods. It was like a
-dream; they could scarcely believe they were awake. When he ceased
-playing, a melancholy cuckoo-note came from the distant woods.
-
-"'Tis the more-pork, a night-bird," said Rough-and-Ready. "I never
-heard it sing in the day."
-
-They retired to their beds of dry leaves soon after that, and dreamed
-of the strange things they had heard. But Joshua could not sleep. Some
-time before midnight--it might have been an hour--he rose and wandered
-away from the camp, through the solemn woods. He took no notice of the
-groups of majestic trees through which he walked--here masses of the
-silver-leaved iron-bark; there thick clusters of the gigantic palm,
-woven together, as it were, by luxuriant vines trailing through their
-topmost branches. Strange effects of light and shade were produced by
-this natural network; but Joshua took no heed of them, nor of the
-other wonders of the woods by which he was encompassed. A sense of
-awful desolation was upon him; tremblingly he retraced his steps till
-he came to the camp, where he sank upon the ground exhausted by
-emotion. The full moon rose and shed its light upon him. He took from
-his breast the Bible which Dan had given him, and read upon its first
-page, "From Dan, with undying love and confidence." Those words did
-much to calm him; he kissed them, and pressed the book to his heart,
-and gradually fell into a deep sleep.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXIV.
-BITTER REVELATIONS.
-
-
-Here in the grand Australian woods are two tents--gunyahs,
-Rough-and-Ready calls them--built of tea-tree bark, bound round by
-vine creepers. They are in the form of a hive, and are wonderfully
-picturesque and comfortable. Up to this time, the castaway dwellers in
-these gunyahs have been undisturbed by savages, and this has been a
-matter of surprise to all but Rough-and-Ready. "Wait till after the
-rainy season," he has said a dozen times; "we shall have plenty of
-them then." Rough-and-Ready has made this "rainy season" a pretext for
-lingering near the spot where they first camped after their rescue. It
-would be suicide, he told them, to attempt to move at present; they
-would not be able to make their way through the country. But indeed
-all of them, with the exception of Joshua, were content to remain
-where they were; they dreaded to encounter the horrors of the wild
-country through which they would have to pass. Joshua was the only one
-who fretted at their life of inaction. It seemed to him the cruellest
-thing to remain passive while Ellen and Dan and his parents were
-waiting for him at home. But what could he do? Without the assistance
-of Rough-and-Ready he was powerless; and that wise man of the woods
-declared emphatically that it would be madness to start upon such an
-expedition. So Joshua was compelled to wait for events to shape his
-destiny, and fretted and worried because he could take no hand in the
-direction of them. It was a good thing for him that he had plenty to
-do; he might else have lost his reason. Rough-and-Ready was the best
-of physicians; he would not allow any of his companions to be idle,
-and he took care to supply them with more work than they could
-conveniently accomplish. He derived a huge pleasure from this cunning
-proceeding, and had many a sly laugh to himself because of it. The
-building of the gunyahs was a matter in which he took especial
-delight, and he and his mates labored at them for many days; when they
-were finished, Rough-and-Ready declared that they were better than the
-finest stone houses that ever were built. The women took delight in
-them also, and decorated them with the prettiest creepers they could
-find. During all this time they were not molested by Scadbolt and the
-Lascar. In their rambles through the woods they occasionally came upon
-traces of the two rascals and caught distant glimpses of them, but
-they never came to close quarters. Once Scadbolt had attempted to
-make overtures; but he was warned off with small ceremony by
-Rough-and-Ready, who declined to parley with him.
-
-On a certain moonlight night, not many nights ago, Rough-and-Ready
-invited Joshua to accompany him on an expedition. Coming to a place
-where the moon was shining over the tops of the gum-trees
-Rough-and-Ready motioned Joshua to be still, and in a few minutes they
-heard a call, half scream, half chatter. Presently Rough-and-Ready
-raised his gun, pulled the trigger, and down came two animals shaped
-like cats, with long brushy tails, sharp claws and something like
-thumbs on their hind feet.
-
-"'Possums," said Rough-and-Ready in explanation.
-
-He had found out a haunt of these animals, and that night they brought
-back more than a dozen, some ring-tailed, some silver. They could
-only be shot on moonlight nights, said Rough-and-Ready, and are
-chiefly found where the gum or peppermint-tree abounds. They had a
-splendid harvest, and in a week they collected nearly a hundred,
-Rough-and-Ready was mighty particular about the skinning of them, and
-about rubbing the fleshy parts of the skins with fine wood-ashes
-before fixing them on the trees to dry. They also caught a score or so
-of the sugar-squirrel, whose fur is real chinchilla. Upon these skins
-Minnie and Rachel are busy now with needle and thread, making caps for
-the men. It is a strange sight to see such evidences of civilization
-in the wild woods. The women had begged Rough-and-Ready to spare the
-lives of two young opossums which were found alive in their mothers'
-pouches, and he, knowing that they could be easily tamed, had readily
-consented. They were the most docile and harmless little things, and
-soon became domesticated, if such a word may properly be used in the
-life I am describing. At the present time, one of them is hanging head
-downwards, with its tail curled round the branch of a tree, in a state
-of serene happiness and content. The other is with Little Emma, who is
-sitting not far from the women, playing with it in the midst of a
-great heap of wild flowers she has collected.
-
-The females are not alone. Two of the men are away, but Joshua is in
-sight, busy with his axe cutting up a tree for slabs. To tell truth,
-Rough-and-Ready is not desirous of moving from the woods where they
-are now camped, unless they are compelled to do so by the savages or
-by unforeseen circumstances. They are camped upon high land, where
-they are comparatively safe from floods; the country round about is
-fairly stocked with game; and there is water in abundance--somewhat of
-a rare circumstance, and, rarer still, the water is sweet. As for the
-life itself, none could be more attractive to him. The slabs that
-Joshua is cutting now are designed for a fence round their homestead.
-"Even if Blacks come," thought Rough-and-Ready "and they are not
-inclined to be friendly, we may frighten them away with our guns." He
-is very sparing of their powder and shot, of which they have not too
-large a store, and has taught his companions to make and lay many
-kinds of cunning snares for game. He is a thorough bushman, and in his
-present circumstances is certainly the right man in the right place.
-
-The character of Rachel Homebush appears to have completely changed.
-The trials she has gone through have softened her hitherto hard
-nature. No stony-voiced exhortations to repent drop from her lips; she
-is humanized and humbled. But a short time since she was intolerant,
-arrogant, harsh, and proudly-insolent in her armor of sanctity; but
-now she has doffed that armor, and has inward doubts of herself: She
-believes in the goodness of others. She is less sanctified and more
-godly.
-
-Said Rough-and-Ready to Joshua, when they were talking of the women--
-
-"Rachel Homebush is a different creature to what she was. She is not
-so good as she was, and I think she's all the better for it."
-
-Joshua smiled at this paradox, and said,--
-
-"At all events she has a different opinion of you."
-
-"Think so, mate?" asked Rough-and-Ready, a little anxiously. "I'm
-sorry for it, in one way. There's only one woman"--
-
-But he paused unaccountably in the middle of his speech, looked at
-Minnie, who was a few yards away, looked at Joshua, and walked off
-whistling.
-
-Here is the picture. Two hives, bright with flowering creepers; Rachel
-and Minnie sitting in the shadow of the hives, on stumps of trees,
-making fur caps; a 'possum hanging by its tail, studying gravitation;
-the little child, not far away, lying on the ground, surrounded by
-wild flowers, playing with her pet; in the distance, Joshua busy with
-his axe; surrounding and encompassing all, bright sky and lovely
-forest. Rachel, raising her eyes from her work, looks at the child in
-the midst of her garden, and a soft expression rests upon her face.
-The child sees the look, and thrusting the 'possum in the bosom of her
-frock, runs towards Rachel with a handful of flowers. Rachel kisses
-the child, strokes the silky coat of the 'possum, and selecting a
-piece of wild jasmine, places it in her breast. Then Little Emma goes
-to the back of Minnie, and twines some of the brightest flowers in
-Minnie's beautiful hair; and after falling back and admiring the
-effect of her handiwork, whispers to Minnie to get up, for she wants
-to show her something. Minnie smiles and rises, and they walk hand in
-hand to where Emma's wild flowers are, but the child leads her farther
-on, in the direction of Joshua. Made aware of the child's intention,
-Minnie falters, and tries to release her hand gently; but Little Emma
-clings to her, and laughingly strives to pull her along. Joshua's
-attention is attracted to the gentle struggle, and, coming forward, he
-asks the meaning of it. The child explains that she wanted Joshua to
-see how pretty the flowers looked in Minnie's hair, and that Minnie
-tried to run away. Joshua looks at Minnie, who stands trembling before
-him, as if she were guilty of some deep offence. Her bosom is heaving,
-her eyes are luminous with tears, her face is bright with blushes, and
-the tell-tale blood dyes her fair neck. Surely he has never looked
-upon a more beautiful picture! He says some kind words to her, and she
-goes back to her place near Rachel, and he to his work. But, within a
-few minutes afterwards, he swings his axe over his shoulder, and walks
-away in deep thought. The bees are humming about him, many-colored
-locusts and golden-green grasshoppers flit among the tangled
-brushwood, gorgeous butterflies skim through the air; the gaudy beetle
-creeps lazily along; the praying mantis, with its leaf-like wings,
-darts before him; the tree-frog utters its strange cry; a great
-lizard, with a frill round its neck, disappears at the sound of his
-step. He walks past these and myriad other wonders of the woods, until
-the character of the country changes, and he finds himself among rocky
-gullies, with many a fissure in the stony ranges that lead down to
-them.
-
-The buzz of woodland life has ceased; unfathomable silence seems to
-dwell in these rocky hills and valleys. But suddenly a sharp
-shrill note sounds upon the air. It is a bird's note, but no mate's
-voice replies. It is like himself; solitary in the midst of this
-ungracious scene, which frowningly proclaims, "Love finds here no
-dwelling-place." Again the note sounds, and as he makes his way toward
-it, curious to see what kind of bird haunts so desolate a place, he
-hears a faint echo answer--a voice with no soul in it, he thinks in
-his then melancholy mood. He comes to the opening of a small cave, the
-walls of which assume fantastic shapes in the dim light. And there,
-uttering its wail, to which only mocking echoes make response, he sees
-the Solitary Warbler standing alone in the centre of the cave, like
-the Cain of its race. He sighs and walks on--over the rocky range,
-into woodland again, where the ground dips, and where the rich soil is
-teeming with new wonders; and coming to a great pool, he sits down by
-its side. He has been to this spot before. Chancing upon it by
-accident in one of his rambles, he was attracted by its beauty, and by
-the singular effect of the shifting shadows upon the bosom of the
-pool, whose surface is almost covered by lovely pink-and-white
-water-lilies. He looks now into the water, and sees his haggard face
-reflected between the beautifully-colored lilies. And singularly
-enough he sees at the same time, with the eyes of his mind, the
-picture of Minnie as she stood before him, with eyes downcast and the
-flowers in her hair. It is because he was disturbed by thought of her
-that he left his work. He knows her secret but too well. She loves him
-with all her soul. She tells it in every look, in every word; every
-little act of hers towards him is imbued with dangerous tenderness,
-and yet she is unconscious of wrong. Every day she grows more
-devoted--every day grows more beautiful. And it is a part of his great
-misery to feel that her society gives him pleasure as well as pain. He
-is storm-tossed by a conflict of feeling. In this conflict no
-miserable vanity finds place, although it might be well excused in
-most men in such a position; nor is he by a thought false to Ellen.
-But Minnie is dependent upon him, lives upon his kindness, asks
-nothing from him but gentle speech. Shall he deny her this? Shall he
-be false to his nature, and be harsh where harshness would be
-brutality? He is strong; she is weak. Her power is in her weakness;
-his weakness is in his strength. She leans upon him for support, and
-rules by submission.
-
-Something stirs behind him. A sound so light that it might have been
-produced by the fall of a leaf or by the swaying of a bough from which
-a bird has flown. Joshua, whose senses have been quickened by his late
-experience, turns rapidly, and meets the Lascar face to face. In the
-woods thought and action are twin-like. Quick as lightning Joshua's
-pistol is in his hand, and the muzzle is pointed straight at the
-Lascar's breast.
-
-"Stand!" cries Joshua, "if you value your life."
-
-The Lascar stands motionless, his hands behind him.
-
-"Show your hands and what is in them, or I fire."
-
-The Lascar shows his hands--a large piece of rock in one. He had seen
-Joshua sitting by the pool, and had intended to brain him with the
-stone. At Joshua's command, he drops the stone. A bitter smile
-wreathes Joshua's lips, and something like a savage instinct whispers
-to him to shoot his enemy dead upon the spot. But the thought that it
-would be nothing less than murder restrains him. The Lascar sees the
-struggle in Joshua's face, and trembles; miserable wretch as he is he
-has not conquered the fear of death. He is re-assured when Joshua
-drops his hand and moves away, still facing him. At this, fear being
-subdued, the venom in his nature begins to work. Shall he let his
-enemy depart without a sting? He commences with a piece of bravado.
-
-"Ah," he exclaimed, "you have robbed me, but you can't make up your
-mind to murder me."
-
-"Robbed you!" exclaims Joshua, forgetting for a moment. "Of what?"
-
-"Of my knife. Give it me back. I can't hurt you with it. You are more
-than a match for me with your pistols. How do you think I can live
-without a knife?"
-
-Joshua makes no reply to this appeal to his humanity, and moves off a
-few steps, warily.
-
-"I suppose you think yourself a manly sort of fellow," continues the
-Lascar, moving step for step with Joshua, but keeping at a safe
-distance nevertheless, "robbing people of their knives, threatening to
-murder them, and running away with an innocent girl, and ruining her!"
-
-"You villain!" exclaims Joshua, quivering at this reference to Minnie,
-"do not make me forget myself!"
-
-"So far as to shoot a man in cold blood!" sneers the Lascar. "But
-don't forget that the first time you struck me it was for running
-after a woman. What better are you than me? I ran after a woman, not
-an innocent girl. Perhaps you'll say you didn't trick her from her
-father's house, and make love to another girl, her friend, all the
-while, and that girl the sister of the man you pretended such fondness
-for! Going to be married to her too, I heard. But I can tell you
-something you don't know. You were precious sly with your sweetheart,
-Ellen Taylor, in Gravesend; she wouldn't suspect you, I dare say you
-thought, if you had her down at Gravesend until the ship sailed--she
-wouldn't have an idea then that your other sweetheart, Minnie Kindred,
-with her face stained brown, was waiting for you on board the 'Merry
-Andrew.' Ah! you played a cunning game, you pink of perfection, you
-sailor-hero; but I outwitted you, I think, in a way you're not aware
-of."
-
-"How?" asks Joshua, constrained to listen.
-
-"How? I watched you, and was paid for it. You little thought that, did
-you? I'll tell you something more. The man who paid me for watching
-had a fancy for your sweetheart Ellen: you've no need to ask me who he
-is, for you'll not find out through me. I did my duty to him, and he
-paid me for it. Why, directly I set eyes on that brown-faced
-gypsy-maid aboard the 'Merry Andrew,' I says, 'Minnie Kindred, by
-God!' and I set a trap for her, and she fell into it. Then what did I
-do? I sent a letter to my master by the pilot, and told him to go to
-Minnie Kindred's father, and to Dan, and to your mother and father,
-and to your other sweetheart, Ellen, and let them know that you had
-run away with the girl, that you parted from Ellen Taylor one minute,
-and was courting Minnie Kindred aboard ship the next. Was that a good
-game to play? Was I as cunning as you? Was that paying you for what
-you first did to me? Do you remember what I said, when you called me a
-dog of a Lascar? I told you that the Lascar dog never forgets--never,
-never! Why, now I look into your face, I could hug myself to think
-that we're wrecked, and that we shall die and rot here, every one of
-us, and that your sweetheart (who's my master's sweetheart now, I'll
-be sworn) and your friends know you for what you are--a mean false
-hound! I put a cross against you once, and I swore to have your
-heart's blood. Have I had as good? Think of it, and tell me if I have
-had my revenge."
-
-But he does not wait to be told. There is so dangerous a look in
-Joshua's face, that he darts away and disappears in the bush. It is
-well for him that he has escaped, for Joshua is maddened by what he
-has heard. Truly the Lascar has struck at him with a cunning hand. The
-agony of his soul is shown in the convulsive twitching of his
-features, in his white lips, and in the veins of his strong hand,
-which swell almost to bursting as he grasps a stout branch for
-support. So he remains fighting with his agony with a bleeding heart,
-for full half an hour. This knowledge that he has gained is more
-bitter than all the rest. He knows the worst now. The evidence against
-him is awful in its completeness. "Even the Old Sailor will believe me
-guilty," he thinks, and groans aloud at the thought. But there is one
-duty before him to do. He must tell Minnie. This last resolve comes
-upon him when the force of his first passion is somewhat spent.
-Between him and Minnie no word has ever passed of those at home; their
-very names have been avoided. But Joshua now makes up his mind that
-silence on this subject must be broken. It _must_; both for Minnie's
-sake and his own.
-
-It is past sundown. The day has been very hot, and the shadows of
-night bring cooler breezes, grateful to the senses of the castaways.
-Joshua has drawn Minnie a little apart from the others; she, yielding
-to his slightest wish, accompanies him to a part of the forest where
-they can talk unobserved. His first impulse is to ask her why she came
-on board the "Merry Andrew" unknown to him, and why she had disguised
-herself from him; but he spares her this pain, and takes from his
-breast Ellen's portrait and her lock of hair, and Dan's Bible. He
-hands Minnie the Bible.
-
-"Do you know what this is?" he asks. "Yes," she answers; "it is the
-Bible that Dan gave you."
-
-"Read what is on the first page."
-
-She reads the inscription: "From Dan to his dearest friend and
-brother, Joshua. With undying love and confidence."
-
-"You know the love that existed between Dan and me, Minnie?"
-
-"I know. It is perfect. Why do you say existed? Surely it exists!"
-
-"I don't know; I'm afraid to think. Your words are in some sort
-comforting to me; for they prove you have acted in ignorance, and that
-you have not wilfully wronged me."
-
-She looks at him imploringly.
-
-"You will understand presently," he says.
-
-He takes Ellen's lock of hair, and presses it to his lips, and kisses
-Ellen's portrait also. The hot blood flushes into Minnie's face, then
-suddenly deserts it, and she clasps her hands convulsively. She is but
-woman, after all. Yet she controls her agitation sufficiently to ask
-in an unsteady voice,--
-
-"Is it necessary to speak further of this, Joshua?"
-
-"It is more than necessary," he replies; "it is imperative. My duty
-and my honor demand it."
-
-She bows her head; he pauses a while, and when he speaks again, it is
-in a softer tone.
-
-"Minnie, do you know that Dan loved you?"
-
-"Loved me!"
-
-"Ay, with all the strength of his constant heart."
-
-"I did not know it. I thought he liked me, but I had no idea it was as
-you say."
-
-"He told me in confidence some time before I left. My heart bleeds as
-I recall that conversation. No girl could hope to be more fondly, more
-faithfully loved. When the 'Merry Andrew' left Gravesend, I said to
-myself, 'When I return, Minnie will be Dan's wife,' for I could not
-but believe that you would have learned to appreciate the worth of
-such a love as his. But it was not to be."
-
-"No, it was not to be," says Minnie sadly. "If I had known, it could
-not have been; if I had remained at home, it could not have been. You,
-who knew Dan so well, do you not know something of me also? I
-understand the motive that impels you to speak to me of these things,
-and I honor you the more for it. It is another proof of your goodness
-and generosity"--
-
-"Minnie, Minnie!" he cries, "do not speak to me like that!"
-
-"I must; I cannot help myself. Have you so poor an opinion of me--do
-you know so little of me--as to think I would marry a man I did not
-love? Rather than that, I would choose for him I loved the bitterest
-lot that life can offer--misery, shame, humiliation--and be content.
-Dan is all that you say; but I did not love him, did not deceive him.
-If he told you so, he told you what is false."
-
-"He did not tell me so, but said that from your manner to him
-sometimes, he hoped to win your love."
-
-"Must I shame myself to justify myself?" she cries recklessly. "I
-was happy in his company because he was your friend, and because he
-loved you. I was happy in his company because he spoke of you, and
-because--Joshua, have pity on me and forgive me! O my heart, my
-heart!"
-
-He catches her fainting form, for she is falling. Weeping, she turns
-her face from him and hides it in her hair. Soft breezes play among
-the branches of the trees, stirring them into worshipping motion, and
-the more-pork, with its sad-colored plumage, flits by on noiseless
-wings, uttering his melancholy note. Joshua waits until Minnie is more
-composed; presently her sobs grow fainter and she leaves the shelter
-of his arm, and stands a little apart from him, with her face still
-averted.
-
-"I do pity you," he then says, "and forgive you. What I have said and
-what I have done springs from no feeling of unkindness to you, Minnie.
-God knows, in such a strait as ours, such a feeling would be worse
-than cruel. But there are certain things of which I am afraid you are
-ignorant, that I must speak of and that you must hear. Do you know
-that, before I left home, I was suspected of playing with your
-feelings--of making love to you clandestinely, and so betraying the
-friend whom I would have laid down my life to serve?"
-
-"No, no Joshua, do not tell me that!"
-
-"It is the truth; but I did not know it until after I had bidden
-good-by to mother and father and Dan, in Stepney. Where were you on
-that day?"
-
-"I--I was not at home," she falters.
-
-"You had left, then. I went to your father's room to wish you and him
-good-by. He refused to see me. I asked to see you, and Susan told me
-you were asleep. I was deeply grieved; and I can understand now what
-caused Susan to beg me imploringly to be true to Ellen. What a
-cowardly villain they must believe me to be! Your father suspected me;
-Susan suspected me. If I had died that Christmas night at mother's
-door, it would have been happier for me! Minnie I thanked you once for
-saving my life; but I cannot thank you now, for you have made me the
-unhappiest of men."
-
-She does not answer him, but stands before him trembling and
-suffering, as before a judge, enduring her punishment and admitting
-the justice of it.
-
-"It is part of my unhappiness," he continues, "that I have to speak
-thus to you; it is part of my unhappiness that I have to show you the
-consequences of your rash conduct. Listen: To-day I saw the Lascar; he
-came behind me stealthily, to kill me, I believe; but I turned and saw
-him in time. I could have shot him dead where he stood; indeed, some
-savage prompting urged me to do so, but I held my hand and was spared
-the crime. This man hates me, Minnie. In an encounter I had with him
-before I first went to sea, I struck him and hurt him. He has had a
-bitter revenge upon me. He saw you on board the 'Merry Andrew' before
-the pilot left the ship, and recognized you, despite your disguise."
-
-Minnie holds her breath. She remembers how the Lascar whispered her
-name in her ear the first day she went aboard.
-
-"He did a devilish thing then. He wrote a letter home, saying that I
-had run away with you, and that we were together on board the 'Merry
-Andrew.'"
-
-She falls on her knees before him, and raises her bands
-supplicatingly, and begs him again to forgive her, and to believe that
-she knew nothing of this, and that if she had known--
-
-"If you had known, Minnie," he says, gently raising her, "you would
-not have done what you have. But you did not stop to consider, poor
-child! You see the consequences of that letter, do you not? Suspecting
-me, your father told me the story of his life, to warn me not to
-betray you. Suspecting me, Susan implored me to be true to Ellen. Dan
-confided to me his love for you, and I listened to and sympathized
-with him. Well, what must he and all of them think, when they have
-learned that you and I are together on board the 'Merry Andrew'? And I
-have something to tell you more painful than all the rest."
-
-He puts Ellen's portrait into her hand. "Do you know who this is?"
-
-Her eyes are blurred by tears, and she sees Ellen's sweet face through
-the sorrowful mist.
-
-"It is Ellen's," she says.
-
-"It is my wife!"
-
-As Joshua utters these words, earth and heaven fade in Minnie's sight;
-nothing is visible, nothing is palpable to her senses, but the
-knowledge that flashes upon her, that her love, instead of being her
-glory, is now her shame. "There is no earthly sacrifice that love will
-not sanctify," her father had said. Could love sanctify such a
-sacrifice as she had made--a sacrifice that had brought disgrace and
-dishonor upon the man she loved? For the first time some slight
-consciousness of her error breaks upon her, and she looks upon herself
-as a shameful thing. As Joshua, witnessing her agony, moves a step
-nearer to her, she cries, "No, no, do not touch me!" and with a wild
-shudder sinks upon the ground. He, animated by sincerest compassion,
-throws himself by her side, lays his hand upon her head, and raises
-her face to his. She bows her head upon his shoulder, and sobs her
-grief out there. By every means in his power--by gentle speech, by
-tender act--he strives to soothe her, and succeeds. And then, true to
-his purpose, he finishes his story--tells her what occurred between
-him and the Old Sailor at Gravesend; how surprised he was to find
-that the good old man, and even his own mother, had seen Minnie's
-fancy for him, and had devised the cure for it; and how, prompted by
-duty and by his love for Ellen (he dwelt much on that), he had married
-her quietly at Gravesend, and had spent there the three happiest days
-of his life. And when his story is finished, and she has learned all,
-they sit hand in hand, very quiet and sore-smitten, until Minnie, in a
-singularly-subdued voice, asks what she shall do: as if, having
-committed this fault, and brought such terrible suspicion upon him, he
-has only to tell her how to atone for it, and she will straightway do
-it. Sadly he replies, "What can you do, Minnie? Nothing--nothing but
-wait. There is, to my mind, not the barest chance of escape. We shall
-make our graves in this wild forest; but we must live so--you and I,
-my dear--that upon my deathbed I shall be able to think that I have
-been true to my wife, true to my friend. Life is not the end of all
-things."
-
-Meekly she assents. He calls her "Sister," and kisses her; and then
-they rejoin their companions, who are seated by the gunyahs, cooking
-turtles' eggs found by Rough-and-Ready, the discoverer.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXV.
-SURPRISED BY SAVAGES.
-
-
-The wisdom of Rough-and-Ready's plan of action was soon proved. One
-night, thunder awoke them from sleep. The thunder that breaks over the
-housetops, and the lightning that flashes in at the window-panes of a
-populous city, are very different from what are heard and seen in
-mountain ranges and great wastes of forests. Nature seems to be toned
-down in the city; in the forests and mountains she is grandly
-beautiful in repose, terrifically beautiful in travail. The
-thunder-peals were so loud and awful, that the women and child lay
-clasping each other in speechless fear. Like savage Titans the sound
-swept down upon them, and rushed through the forests and over the
-mountains and into them in search of echoes. The lightning darted upon
-the trees, and ran along the branches, and leaped through the woods
-into the bowels of the earth. Every thing that lived in stream and
-woodland, in rocky range and dark lagoon, sought shelter from the
-storm, of which Sound was but the herald. Presently it came, the swift
-rush of waters, like a second deluge, filling the creeks and rivers,
-and flooding all the land. Great torrents rushed down the mountainside
-into the low land, sweeping all before them. The storm raged the whole
-night through, abating slightly when morning dawned. It was well for
-the castaways that they had a little food stored by, for they could
-not go out in search of any. The second night the women begged the men
-to stay with them; so they all occupied the women's gunyah, lying side
-by side in the dark, and whispering to each other little words of
-comfort. All but Rachel Homebush, who was struck dumb by fear. The
-second night's storm was more terrific than the first, and about
-midnight so tremendous a peal of thunder broke over them, that they
-started up in dread.
-
-"Who screamed?" asked Rough-and Ready. But his voice was not heard;
-and swift upon the heels of the thunder another vivid lightning-flash,
-instantly followed by a terrific burst of thunder, darted through the
-gunyah, and struck them blind for many moments. Then, during a slight
-lull, Rough-and-Ready asked again,--
-
-"Who screamed?"
-
-"Not I," said Joshua.
-
-"Nor I," said the sailmaker.
-
-The women did not speak. Joshua's heart beat with a new fear as he
-whispered,--
-
-"Minnie! Minnie! speak to me. You are not hurt?"
-
-And tears of thankfulness came into his eyes as Minnie answered in a
-trembling voice,--
-
-"No Joshua; I am only frightened. Let me hold your hand."
-
-"Where's the child?" he asked.
-
-"Rachel has her. Rachel! Rachel!"
-
-No voice replied. Thoroughly alarmed, they called to her again and
-again, and to the child, but could not rouse them. They were in the
-deepest darkness.
-
-Presently Rough-and-Ready said, "Hush! we must wait for the light."
-
-They waited for the light, and by the first faint glimmer they saw
-Rachel and the child lying down peacefully, the woman with the child
-folded in her arms. Light had come to them before the others!
-
-Rough-and-Ready, who was the first to discover it, turned to his
-companions, with the tears streaming down his face and beard.
-
-"Comfort _her_," he said to Joshua, pointing to Minnie.
-
-Joshua put his arm round Minnie and turned her face from where the
-woman and child lay.
-
-"Poor Rachel! Poor Little Emma!" he said. "Be brave, Minnie, my dear.
-Do not give way, for my sake."
-
-He knew what words to utter to give her strength to bear the shock,
-and he made use of his power with a wise compassion.
-
-Her poor white lips trembled as she said to him,--
-
-"Pray for one thing for me, Joshua. Pray that I may not die before I
-have made atonement."
-
-"Hush, hush, my dear!" he replied; "there is none to make. It is I who
-rather should have to make it, for my hardness to you. Be comforted,
-my dear."
-
-The words came from his heart. He would have been unfeeling indeed if
-he had not learned to appreciate the beautiful unselfishness of
-Minnie's love; her meekness, her faithfulness, her devotion, her
-unmurmuring submission, could not fail to have a powerful effect upon
-such a nature as his.
-
-The men went into their gunyah, and before night came again had made a
-rough coffin of bark. The next morning they dug a grave and stood
-round it bareheaded while the rain was falling. They kissed the
-child's face and poor Rachel's also before the cover was put on the
-rude coffin. Amid deep sobs--the men were not ashamed of their
-tears--Joshua read prayers; some vine-creepers were thrown into the
-grave; the earth was piled up into a mound: and they went back sadly
-to their tent. The loss of some one very near and dear to them could
-not have been more severely felt. From that time forth it became a
-practice for Joshua to read a chapter out of the Bible every morning
-and evening.
-
-The rainy season lasted for three weeks, and during this time they
-lived very miserably. Minnie thrived, however--perhaps because Joshua
-was tender to her. The hot weather came and they were able to go in
-search of food. But Minnie was never left alone. Joshua and she were
-waiting one evening for the return of Rough-and-Ready and the
-sailmaker, but Rough-and-Ready came back without his companion. He
-looked round in some anxiety.
-
-"Hasn't the sailmaker returned?"
-
-"No," said Joshua; "you went out together."
-
-"I know; but I missed him a couple of hours ago, and although I have
-searched for him and coo-[=e][=e]d for him everywhere, I haven't been
-able to find him."
-
-The sailmaker did not make his appearance. To the surprise of his
-companions, Rough-and-Ready, after dark, fired half a dozen shots from
-his pistol into the air.
-
-"You look surprised," he said; "well, now" (to Minnie), "can you bear
-a shock? Will you promise to be brave if I tell you something?"
-
-She nodded.
-
-"It is only something that I have been expecting. I think that the
-sailmaker is with the natives."
-
-"Why do you think so?" asked Joshua.
-
-"For good reasons. I saw some tracks of them when I was hunting for
-Tom. Perhaps they have captured him."
-
-"He had his pistols."
-
-"Frightened to use them, perhaps; or perhaps there were a lot of the
-Blacks, and he thought it would be foolish and useless. Besides he is
-new to them. He's all right, though; they won't hurt him for he's a
-plucky fellow. Now, mind. When you first see the natives, and indeed
-always after that, show no fear of them. What I am going to say is to
-my mind a most foolish thing; but there's the faintest chance in the
-world that, making friends with them, you might make your way down
-south, from one tribe to another, in a few months, and come upon some
-cattle station. But, lord! there's one chance for you, and a hundred
-against you."
-
-"Why do you say 'you'?" asked Minnie. "'We,' rather."
-
-"No, my dear," said Rough-and-Ready with a blush. "I have two reasons
-for saying you and not we. The first reason is not a reason--it is a
-presentiment. I shall die in the bush. The second reason is a plainer
-one. It wouldn't be pleasant for me to get into civilized company in
-New South Wales."
-
-"Why?"
-
-Rough-and-Ready looked at her with admiration, and said, very
-inappropriately, as she thought,--
-
-"Do you know that you have made me a better man?"
-
-"A better man!" she exclaimed. "Why, you are a good man, and a brave
-man, too."
-
-"You think so. So let it be," he said, half seriously, half gayly.
-"I'm not going to spoil your delusion just yet."
-
-They saw no signs of the savages that night. They did not retire until
-late, and Rough-and-Ready went many times short distances in different
-directions to look for the natives, but they did not appear. Joshua
-took out his accordion and played. Rough-and-Ready listened
-thoughtfully, and when Joshua had finished an air, he said,--
-
-"I told you, when we first came ashore here, that there is no surer
-way to frighten the blacks than through their superstitious fears.
-Your playing to-night, connected with the near presence of the
-savages, brings that remark back to me; and I'll tell you why. That
-music of yours may possibly be a great power with them. They have
-never heard any thing like it. If you don't lose your self-possession
-when you get among them--and you must take care not to, for Minnie's
-sake; her life may depend upon your courage--you may obtain an
-influence over them by means of your accordion. Sound for which they
-cannot account has a wonderful effect upon them. Here you have it.
-Don't forget what I say. Come, now, I can hear no sign of the black
-devils. You take some rest. I'll wake you in a couple of hours."
-
-So they watched in turns during the night.
-
-"What is the best thing to do," asked Joshua the following evening,
-"when the savages come?--to make friends with them, or try to frighten
-them?"
-
-"There are too few of us to fight," answered Rough-and-Ready. "We
-might frighten them for a time, but they would be sure to come back in
-larger numbers. Then we haven't too much powder and shot left. No; the
-best and wisest course will be to be friendly with them, if possible.
-I _have_ heard of white men living with them for many years. I saw an
-Englishman myself once who had been with them for five years. He was
-glad enough to get away from them; but they treated him kindly, he
-said. One man, whom I never saw, lived with them for thirty years. His
-name is Buckley, and he is living now."
-
-"Do you know any thing of his story?"
-
-"I'll tell you what little I know. He was a bricklayer in
-Cheshire--came from Macclesfield, I've heard. A great big hulking
-lazy fellow he was--brick-making was too hard work for him, so he
-enlisted as a grenadier. A fine grenadier he must have looked--he was
-six feet six inches in his stockings. But grenadiering didn't satisfy
-his wants. He was a natural vagabond like myself, and he got into
-trouble, and was sentenced to transportation. So he and three or four
-hundred other natural and unnatural vagabonds, being deemed fine
-material for the purpose, were sent out to form a colony. Buckley and
-his mates were put ashore at Port Phillip; but the governor, whose
-name was Collins, liked the place as little as the convicts, and he
-moved them off to Van Dieman's Land. Then they began to talk of
-escaping. They didn't know any thing of the interior of the country;
-but they thought, perhaps, that any thing was better than the devil's
-life they led as convicts. Buckley got away with two mates, of whom
-nothing more was ever heard. About twelve months after he escaped, he
-fell in with the natives, and lived with them for more than thirty
-years. During the whole of that time he never saw a white man. At
-length he heard from the tribe he was living with, that some men with
-skins the same color as his had been seen within a few miles of the
-native camp. They belonged to a band of explorers headed by a man
-named Batman. Buckley went in search of them, and presented himself to
-them. You can imagine what a sensation he created; a white giant, who
-had forgotten how to speak English, with native weapons hung round his
-body, and a kangaroo-skin rug his only clothing. He soon picked up a
-bit of English, and was taken to a white settlement, where he was made
-a pet and a wonder of. He might have done good service for the white
-people with the natives, for they say he has great influence with
-them. But my opinion of him is, that he is a lazy, skulking thief, and
-that living with the savages, where he hadn't to work for his food,
-just suited him. I expect that some part of his influence over them
-was produced by his tremendous height and big limbs. However, he is
-among the whites again, with a free pardon granted him, I've heard,
-and earning his living as he has earned it all his life--by doing
-nothing."
-
-During the recital of this story, which Rough-and-Ready declared was
-veracious, every word of it, he was busy baking a fresh-water turtle,
-which he had caught that day while he was fishing in a lagoon. The
-turtle was baked in its shell, and they made a delicious supper off
-it. They had arranged to fish for eels that night, and Rough-and-Ready
-said,--
-
-"Come along; it's of no use being frightened by thinking of the
-natives; we must get accustomed to them. We shall soon see them, and
-Tom with them."
-
-They took all their fire-arms. Minnie had two pistols in her belt, and
-Joshua and Rough-and-Ready, besides pistols, had guns slung across
-their shoulders. Each of them wore a cap made of the beautiful fur of
-the sugar-squirrel. They walked through the quiet wood, looking
-sharply about them as they went along, but neither heard nor saw any
-signs of the natives. When they came to the lagoon, Rough-and-Ready
-told them he was going to show them a fine way of catching eels
-without trouble. He had his fire-sticks with him, and in half an hour
-he had a great fire blazing by the side of the lagoon. Attracted by
-the light, the eels came swarming towards them; and in a very short
-time they caught as many as they desired. Loaded with their spoil,
-they made their way back to their gunyahs; and as they got near them,
-they saw a dark figure glide swiftly away from the spot into the bush.
-
-"A native," said Rough-and-Ready. "We must look out to-night."
-
-"Or Scadbolt, or the Lascar, do you think?" suggested Joshua,
-supporting Minnie, who was clinging to him in alarm.
-
-"No; a white man couldn't move away with such a cat-like motion. I
-fancy I saw his dark skin."
-
-Thereupon Rough-and-Ready, for the purpose of familiarizing Minnie
-with the idea of living with the savages, and so lessening her fears,
-commenced talking of them, and continued talking for a couple of
-hours. By which time Minnie's fears really _were_ lessened.
-
-"What a number of stars have fallen the last few nights remarked
-Joshua.
-
-"Ah, you have noticed that!" said Rough-and-Ready. "And if you
-observe, they have fallen immediately over this spot, in the direction
-of the sea. Well, those shooting-stars may have brought the natives
-here; for although some tribes believe that danger lies where stars
-fall, or that they indicate the direction of hostile tribes, others
-have a kind of belief that a great and good spirit may be seen where
-they fall. They believe that there is a new sun every day and a new
-moon every night, One tribe throws up the sun at daybreak, and another
-tribe catches it at sunset."
-
-Here they were interrupted by cries of fear, and by the running
-towards them of some person who fell at their feet trembling and
-grovelling. It was the Lascar, who was evidently in a state of
-horrible fright. He looked more like a wild beast than a man. What few
-clothes he had on were torn and tattered, his nails were long, and his
-disordered hair and grovelling fears deprived his features of any
-likeness to humanity.
-
-"The savages, the savages," he cried.
-
-He had chosen what he considered the lesser of two evils; his white
-foes were preferable to black cannibals. Rough-and-Ready looked down
-upon him contemptuously and touched him with his foot.
-
-"The cowardly ruffian!" he said. "I'd sooner trust the Blacks than
-such as he. Where's his rascally mate, I wonder--Get up!" he cried,
-and administered so smart a kick to the prostrate wretch that he
-jumped up on the instant, imploring mercy.
-
-"Be silent, you chattering imp of darkness!" roared Rough-and-Ready;
-"be silent, and answer me. You've seen the Blacks, I suppose?"
-
-The Lascar muttered an affirmative.
-
-"Well, what are you frightened at? Why don't you go and make friends
-with them? They haven't much the advantage of you in color, and you
-are more of a wild beast than they are. Frightened of being eaten, eh?
-Faugh! they'd spear you and throw you away; you're not good enough
-even for them." The Lascar trembled the more at this; he was a true
-coward. "What d'ye think of mutineering now, eh? Answer me, you
-copper-colored devil, or I'll make an end of you--where's your mate,
-Scadbolt?"
-
-"I don't know; I haven't seen him for days.
-
-"Ah, two of a trade never agree. I thought you'd be cutting each
-other's throats. Captain Marvel, here's one of your crew who tried to
-raise a mutiny. As if that was not enough, he has murdered his mate."
-(It is a fact that Scadbolt was never heard of again, nor was any
-thing ever known of his fate.) "Now then, you, as captain of the
-'Merry Andrew,' pronounce judgment--death, nothing less--and I'll take
-him away and execute it, as truly as I'm a living man!"
-
-There was something so determined in Rough-and-Ready's speech, and
-something so threatening in his action, that the Lascar leaped away in
-mortal fear. Whereat Rough-and-Ready laughed loud and long, and fired
-a shot in the air to frighten the Lascar the more.
-
-In the morning, while they were at breakfast, two savages suddenly
-made their appearance, about twenty yards from where they were
-sitting. They appeared so suddenly, that they seemed to have started
-out of the ground.
-
-"Now, Minnie," said Rough-and-Ready quietly, "don't scream out, and
-don't show any alarm. By the look of those fellows they are friendly,
-and do not mean to harm us."
-
-Minnie conquered her fears bravely, although her heart was beating
-fast, and by the direction of Rough-and-Ready they went on with their
-breakfast, to all appearance quite unconcerned, and as if the presence
-of the savages was the most natural thing in the world. The two men
-who stood gazing at them were naked, with the exception of a girdle of
-emeu-feathers round their waists; their color was pale black; they
-were tall, with thin limbs and fine chests, and their hair was thick
-and curly. They had spears in their hands, about seven feet long, made
-from the stem of the tea-tree.
-
-Seeing that they stood quite quiet, Rough-and-Ready held up part of an
-eel towards them, and smiled, and nodded his head gently. Whereupon
-the two savages looked at each other, said a few words, and
-disappeared. Both Joshua and Minnie drew a long breath of relief, for
-which Rough-and-Ready was inclined to be cross with them.
-
-"They will be back presently," he said, "in company."
-
-They had not long to wait. In less than half an hour the two who had
-first presented themselves returned with nearly a score of others. To
-the joy of the castaways, they saw Tom the sailmaker in the rear, and
-they nodded and smiled at him. Seeing that the savages, who had been
-jabbering among themselves, made signs to the sailmaker; and after the
-display of much pantomime, he came towards his mates. They shook hands
-with him, and Rough-and-Ready asked him how he was.
-
-"Jolly," he replied. He told them in crisp sentences, all of them in
-answer to Rough-and-Ready's questions, that the natives seemed
-disposed to be friendly, and that they were not half so bad as they
-looked.
-
-Rough-and-Ready, accompanied by Tom, then walked half a dozen yards in
-the direction of the savages, and held out his hands to them. Tom
-looked at the savages, touched Rough-and-Ready on the breast, and then
-himself, with sufficiently expressive pantomime, to denote, "We two
-are one." Minnie and Joshua stood in the background, side by side,
-with linked arms. The savages, coming a little nearer, pointed to
-them, and jabbered unintelligibly, as much as to say, "What do you do
-here? Who are you?" Joshua, observing the success of Rough-and-Ready's
-pantomime, touched Minnie on the breast, and then himself, conveying
-the same meaning, "We two are one."
-
-Here it must be told that Minnie had regained her naturally fair
-complexion, and that her hair, also fair, had grown to a great length.
-Tall and well-formed, with bare arms beautifully shaped, with pure
-complexion; with dreamy eyes, with long hair hanging loosely down, and
-with the charm and grace of youth upon her, she stood before them in
-her strange dress of civilized cotton and woodland fur; and her
-singularly-beautiful appearance had a powerful effect on the savages.
-They approached Rough-and-Ready, and felt his clothes, and made
-friends with him in their primitive fashion; but they kept some
-distance from Joshua and Minnie, regarding, her with looks of
-reverence and astonishment. Presently, after much grimacing and
-flashing of hands and fingers, Rough-and-Ready came towards Minnie,
-and, to her surprise, bowed low before her, and stood in an attitude
-of respectful worship. The savages, who were watching him attentively,
-saw only his back; but if they had seen the merry twinkle in his eyes,
-they would have been as puzzled as Minnie was.
-
-"I've heard say that every woman is an actress," he said, smiling.
-"Prove yourself one now, for all our sakes, by not moving, and by
-listening to me attentively. Your conduct may decide our fate. I have
-told you what significance the natives attach to shooting-stars, and
-how they either avoid the direction in which they fall or are impelled
-there by some powerful superstition. Fortune has favored us. I don't
-understand a single word these savages utter; but I understand from
-their actions that they are so amazed at your appearance as to
-entertain a belief that you are not quite mortal--that, in fact, you
-are a superior spirit. If they can be kept in this belief (supposing
-they entertain it), it will be of immense service to us. If you are
-brave enough not to show fear, they will almost be certain not to
-attempt to harm us."
-
-No better speech could have been spoken to Minnie to inspire her with
-confidence and courage. But she turned to Joshua first, and asked,
-"Shall I do this?"
-
-"Yes," he answered; "I think it will be well, if you can nerve
-yourself to it."
-
-Smiling at the "if" she said softly, "For your sake, Joshua," and
-then, with queenly motion, walked towards the savages, conquering her
-disgust at their appearance. They awaited her approach; and when she
-was within a few steps of them, an old graybeard came forward, and
-held out his hands, saying some words expressive of respectful
-welcome. Minnie understood as much by his expressive action. She
-touched his hands, and waved hers, bidding them welcome, and beckoning
-to Joshua, touched him on the breast, and placed her hand upon his
-shoulder. Then, smiling placidly upon the dusky group, she walked away
-with Joshua, and sat down in the shade of the gunyah. Whatever meaning
-her pantomime had conveyed, it evidently excited great interest among
-the savages. They conversed earnestly and excitedly, and pointed to
-the sky and to the earth, describing, by their motions the action of a
-star falling gently to the ground.
-
-"Bravely done," said Rough-and-Ready to Minnie. "Whatever notion they
-have in their heads, it is one that will do us no harm. See, they are
-moving off, taking the sailmaker with them."
-
-And, indeed, the natives went away in a body, leaving behind them four
-of their party, however, who squatted upon the ground, with their eyes
-fixed upon the castaways.
-
-"They are left to watch us," said Rough-and-Ready; "but I think we may
-make ourselves easy about their being disposed to be friendly."
-
-He and Joshua went about their pursuits as usual; but to keep up the
-fiction concerning Minnie with the natives who were watching them,
-they would not allow her to work, and treated her with such marks of
-deference as could not fail to impress the savages. During the day,
-Rough-and-Ready offered food to the savages, who accepted it. To show
-their gratitude, two of them went away into the forest, and returned
-with a quantity of honey in a reed basket, which they placed at
-Minnie's feet, and which she partook of to their evident satisfaction.
-
-"There isn't the slightest mistake," said Rough-and-Ready merrily,
-"that the devil isn't half so black as he is painted."
-
-They were left apparently undisturbed for two days, when the natives
-returned, with different descriptions of food--sweet roots many of
-them, pleasant and good to eat. "They have some plan in their heads,"
-said Rough-and-Ready. He was right. Early the next morning the natives
-gave them to understand that they were going farther inland, and that
-the white people were to accompany them. "Now we shall see something,"
-observed Rough-and-Ready as they plunged into the forest. They walked
-for three days before they came to the native camp. They made short
-stages to accommodate Minnie. During this time, Minnie kept close to
-Joshua, as if to protect him; but Rough-and-Ready mixed freely with
-the natives, and made some snares for game, which he gave to them, and
-with which they were much pleased. When they were within a few miles
-of the camp a number of the tribe, chiefly women and children, came
-out to meet them. Soon they arrived at the camp, and were surprised at
-its picturesqueness. It consisted of about a dozen roomy huts, roofed
-and thatched with bark and reeds. At a short distance from the huts
-was a large pool, the vegetation around which was singularly
-beautiful. Among the strange trees which attracted the notice of the
-castaways, the umbrella-tree, with its dark loaves and crimson
-flowers, seemed to them the most remarkable. There were also a large
-number of great fig-trees, and magnificent palms with feathery leaves.
-The air was sweet with the perfume of lily and jasmine and the
-golden-flowered thorn. There was one hut which appeared but newly
-built; it was prettier than the others, and its sides were decorated
-with wild flowers and flowering vines. Towards this the natives led
-Minnie, upon whom the women and children looked in awe and wonder.
-She, clasping Joshua's hand, entered this hut, and sank upon the bed
-of dry leaves, wondering what was next to come. She begged Joshua to
-stop with her, for she was frightened of being left alone. So, after
-partaking of the food which the natives brought to them, he lay down
-near the mouth of the hut, and she at the farther end on her bed of
-leaves. Joshua could see the glories of the sunset from where he lay;
-and he saw the fire die out of the sky, and saw the stars come out.
-But he was tired with his day's walk, and sleep overpowered him,
-although he tried to keep awake. Early in the morning they rose, and
-walked towards the banks of the pool,--
-
-
- "To where the weed of green and red
- Its floating carpet gayly spread,
- Whereon the emerald frog reclined,
- Fanned by the fragrance of the wind;
- And all was darkened by the shade
- The water-weeping branches made--
- Save where a paler, tenderer green
- Made bright the beauty of the scene.
- The birds flashed down, to drink or lave,
- With varied note and joyous stave,
- And plunging sidelong from the reeds,
- That wavered mid the water-weeds.
- Plashed in the stream so cool and calm,
- O'erhung by many a fern-tree palm;
- And bell-bird peels, whose silvery chimes
- Found in the rippled water rhymes,
- Throughout the perfumed thicket rang,
- Whence the tall-headed bulrush sprang."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXVI.
-THE POWER OF MUSIC.
-
-
-The natives were busy preparing for a grand Correboree, which, being
-interpreted, means a grand gathering and celebration in honor of some
-imposing event. Scouts were sent out in every direction, and every
-hour brought fresh comers, who evinced the greatest possible curiosity
-in the white people. At one time nearly sixty members of a different
-tribe arrived in a body, and a fierce jabbering took place between the
-old men of the tribes. Rough-and-Ready, who had by this time picked up
-a few native words, came to Minnie and Joshua with a look of concern
-on his face.
-
-"They are quarrelling about us," he said. "As far as I can understand,
-this new tribe lay claim to us for having been found in a country
-which they say is theirs. I think I know how they will settle it, if
-they settle it at all peaceably."
-
-"How?" asked Joshua anxiously.
-
-"They will separate us--two for each of the two strongest tribes."
-Minnie caught Joshua's hand convulsively. "I know what you mean, my
-dear," said Rough-and-Ready, a little sadly; "you and Joshua must not
-be parted. And indeed, it would not be right; you belong to one
-another. Well, the sailmaker and I will go our way and you will go
-yours. Only you must be cunning and keep together. Joshua, tonight,
-before the natives go to sleep, play a few soft airs upon your
-accordion. You and Minnie must be in your hut together while you play.
-And don't let them see the accordion. The music will fill them with
-wonder, and it will be a strong reason with them why you should not be
-parted. But indeed, my dear, if you continue to act your part well
-there will be no fear of that."
-
-"You are a good man," said Minnie gratefully, holding out her hand to
-Rough-and-Ready.
-
-He took it and pressed it to his lips, and held it in his with
-infinite tenderness.
-
-"No, my dear," he said, "I am not a good man. You have seen me at my
-best. I am a convict, and when I came on board the 'Merry Andrew,' I
-was trying to escape from the colony. There's many a black mark
-against me which I doubt will never be wiped out in this world. I was
-a little sinned against at first, it is true, but I had my revenge
-afterwards; I couldn't be meek and humble under undeserved punishment.
-There! that's all I shall tell you about myself. Your imagination must
-fill in the outlines. And, mind you! you can't make me out worse than
-I am. I am glad I have made this confession, lame and bald as it is;
-it has relieved my mind." He turned his back to them, with a motion
-which said, "You see what a vagabond I am; I am not fit company for
-such as you."
-
-But Minnie laid one hand upon his shoulder, and with the other turned
-his face towards hers.
-
-"You are a good man," she repeated earnestly, looking into his eyes,
-which were filled with tears, "and I honor and respect you."
-
-"And I, too," said Joshua, grasping his hand heartily. "If it should
-be our good fortune to meet under happier circumstances than these, I
-will show my gratitude to you."
-
-"There, there, there!" exclaimed Rough-and-Ready, half roughly, half
-tenderly; "enough said about the past. We sha'n't be together much
-longer, as I've told you, and as you'll soon find. We must take things
-as they come, and make the best of them. Do you know the natives have
-a curious fancy about you?" he said to Minnie. "There was once in
-their tribe a young woman of rare beauty and virtues, who was idolized
-by all I don't know how long ago this was, and it is only by piecing
-stray words and actions together that I have been able to understand
-it. Well, this young woman, by some means or other, was transformed
-into a star. They believe you to be her, having taken mortal form
-again to visit them. 'Tis a pretty fancy, isn't it?"
-
-"But I am white, and"--
-
-"She was black," interrupted Rough-and-Ready gayly. "That is easily
-accounted for; they believe that when they die they jump up white. If
-you were of their color, they would not have the fancy about you."
-
-By the evening there were not less than a hundred and fifty savages
-collected together. Although the weather was warm, they were lying
-down before their campfires, with the exception of one group of about
-twenty old men and doctors of the principal tribes, who were earnestly
-engaged in discussing matters relating to the white people. An old
-chief of the tribe who had first discovered the castaways was on his
-feet, declaiming violently, with extravagant action, in which,
-nevertheless, there was much dignity. Opara was his name. His hair and
-beard were white, and his face and body were scored with ugly seams
-gained in battle, or in the exercise of the strange rites and
-ceremonies of his tribe. On his neck and breast, and from his
-shoulders to his hips, were still to be seen, old as he was, the
-gashes made in his youth to entitle him to the dignity of manhood. A
-great chief was Opara--wise in council, fearless in battle and had
-been the most skilful of all his tribe with boomerang and spear, and
-middla, and in throwing the wirra.
-
-"The strangers are ours," he said; "the sacred crow, Karakorok,
-witnesseth that they are ours by right. The heavens were filled with
-light, and great voices thundered. We listened in awe. Fire rent the
-mountains, and made new caverns sacred. Light dived into raging
-waterfalls, cutting the earth. We waited full a moon. The storm
-ceased; the spirits spoke no more. We waited another moon. The stars
-fell near the sea--into it. We went there, wanting to know. We brought
-the strangers back. They are ours."
-
-Up rose Wealberrin, chief of the other tribe. No less famous he than
-Opara. White-bearded, too, and tattooed from top to toe, and no less
-cunning with war and hunting weapons. Around his waist was a belt made
-of the hair of the enemies he had slain in battle.
-
-"Not so," he said. "The _land_ is ours. There, in Pandarri Kurto
-(heaven's cavern), lie our mintapas--our doctors. There are our
-hunting-grounds--our fishing-lands. There we make men of our sons.
-Shall I take Opara's food, and call it mine by right? He would reply
-as becomes a warrior. If I ask, he would give. But I ask not now. The
-land is ours. What is found on the land is ours."
-
-"Once lived Mirgabeen," said Opara. "Bright-eyed, fleet-footed,
-hollow-backed. Her tongue spoke the music of the birds. Her dark hair
-hung down to her arched feet. She could shroud her glory in it--as
-night the day. She was beloved by all. Too bright for earth, she lives
-in the heavens now, a star. She looks down on me. She hears me speak.
-So dwelt with us a maid, whose supple limbs cleaved the water, who
-sang the music of the woods. The trees bent to her as she walked. The
-branches bowed before her, and whispered to her, and she replied. She
-left us for the grand vault where moons are made. What was ours is
-ours. She has come back to us. She is ours."
-
-"So be it," said Wealberrin. "The others then are ours. Opara has
-spoken."
-
-"She has with her a mate," said Opara, "whom she has touched upon the
-breast. Let Wealberrin take two--we two. Then we shall have peace."
-
-Wealberrin would have replied, but as he rose to his feet a wondering
-expression stole into his face, and into the faces of all assembled
-there. For from Minnie's gunyah issued sounds so soft and sweet that
-the night-birds hushed their voices to listen. The breeze was so light
-that the melodious notes hung upon the air, and lingered long before
-they died away. The savages clutched each other, and stood transfixed
-with fear and wonder. What voices were these that were speaking? In
-their dreams they had never heard any thing so sweet. Opara had said
-it. Minnie had come from the vault where the moons are made, and was
-speaking to the spirits of another world. Motionless, with bended
-heads or with forms inclined towards the sound, they stood like
-figures of stone, in reverential attitude. And did not move a limb
-when the music ceased; for a shadow fell upon the moonlit space, and
-Minnie came to the opening of the gunyah and looked in dumb amazement
-at the strange scene before her.
-
-And now the day has come upon which the grand ceremony of the
-Corroboree is to be celebrated. The rival tribes have settled their
-dispute. Rough-and-Ready, who is the Chorus of the party, tells his
-friends that Joshua and Minnie are to remain with Opara's tribe, and
-that he and the sailmaker are to be attached to Wealberrin's. Joshua
-hints at resistance, but Rough-and-Ready declares it would be madness.
-
-"If there was no woman in the case," he says, "I might counsel
-differently; but for Minnie's sake we must have no fighting. We might
-kill a score or two of the natives, but you must bear in mind there
-are half a thousand of them here now. Then their spears are poisoned.
-Suppose one should strike Minnie. No, no; submission is our best
-course." So, with much grief, they are compelled to make up their
-minds to submit.
-
-All day long, there is great feasting. An emeu has been hunted down,
-and the fat carefully distributed among the natives; honey and sweet
-roots have been brought in in abundance, and the bushes have been
-stripped of their fruit. Rude seats of vines, decorated with flowers,
-have been placed for Minnie and Joshua in front of their gunyah, and
-in front of the seats a kind of arched screen of leaves and branches
-has been erected, through the network of which they can see and be
-seen. When night comes, fires are lighted, the flickering flames of
-which give birth to monstrous shadows that flit about the trees, and
-fill the woods with grotesque shapes. Minnie and Joshua watch with a
-kind of wonder the shadows created by the fire nearest to them. Now
-the light goes down, and the black shapes dart through the woods, or
-run swiftly along the branches, ravenously, and with cruel intent, as
-it appears; anon, the flame leaps up, and the shadows fly and shift
-restlessly about, with lightning speed, as if suddenly surprised by an
-enemy. Their attention, however, is soon diverted from these inanimate
-creations. The natives are assembling. Men, women, and children troop
-in from all quarters, and seat themselves round and about the fires in
-somewhat orderly fashion. There cannot be less than five or six
-hundred of them. All being seated, a long silence ensues, broken at
-length by a circle of singers, who chant a monotonous song, narrating
-how they had journeyed towards the sea into which stars were falling,
-and how they had found the strangers, and brought them to their camp.
-As they sing this song over and over again, they beat time with their
-clubs. A brave then chants a tradition of one of their ancient chiefs,
-who was compelled to fly before a hostile tribe; all his young
-warriors were slain, and he alone escaped; but his enemies determined
-to put an end to him, set fire to the bush around him, and he was
-encircled by a net of flame. Suddenly the earth opened, and water
-stole up from the caverns and extinguished the fire, and so the chief
-was saved, and a great river was made, in which fish was plentiful. In
-the midst of the silence which follows this song, a man springs from
-out the shadows. His face is crossed with lines of red and yellow, and
-his body is painted white. In his hand is a branch of green leaves,
-and a great tuft of emeu-feathers is on his head. He stands perfectly
-still for full a quarter of an hour, looking into the sky for the
-spirits of dead men. What inspiration falls upon him at the end of
-that time it would probably be difficult to explain; but he waves his
-branch of green leaves to and fro, and the singers strike up another
-song, and the musicians beat time as before with their war-clubs,
-while the chief actor in the scene rushes about, and flourishes his
-arms in a gradually-worked-up state of the wildest excitement. He
-vanishes in the shade as suddenly as he had appeared, and in his place
-leap a dozen men, presenting so startling an appearance that Minnie
-clasps Joshua's hand in sudden alarm. Flowers are twined round their
-ankles and above their knees. Some have tails or dingoes wound about
-their heads, others wreaths of down from the white cockatoo; some have
-tails of wallabies attached to their peaked beards, and all have
-feathers in their hair. White rings are round their eyes, their noses
-are striped, and lines of red, yellow, and black are painted from
-their shoulders and breasts down to their waists, where a white ring
-encircles them. The singers burst into song again, and the
-hideously-decorated figures begin to dance, advancing towards the
-singers and retreating from them; their motions at first are slow and
-tremulous, but soon they are leaping and jumping frantically from side
-to side, each trying to out-tire the others, with such violent exertion
-as to cause them presently to fall upon the ground in a state of
-exhaustion. As soon as each recovers, he rises, and dances by himself,
-and the women utter cries of commendation, and beat the ground in
-ecstasy. These performers are followed by others, who dance in a
-serpentine line, until they present the appearance of a serpent coiling
-and uncoiling itself; as they dance, they make a hissing sound with
-their tongues, to imitate the hissing of a serpent. And so through the
-night the Corroboree continues, until, thoroughly worn out, the savages
-retire to their rest, and the woods that a while ago were filled with
-such strange life and sound, are lying quiet and solemn in the
-peaceful light of the stars.
-
-
-Wealberrin and his tribe are ready to start, and Rough-and-Ready and
-the sailmaker have come to wish Minnie and Joshua good-by. They go
-into the woods, out of sight of the natives, and sit sadly upon trunks
-of trees that have been blown down by storms.
-
-"I have heard say, or have read somewhere," says Rough-and-Ready,
-striving to speak gayly, "that life is made up of meetings and
-partings, so that this is quite a natural thing, and not to be repined
-at. What we've got to do is to make the best of things."
-
-"It might be worse," says Tom the sailmaker, good-naturedly assisting
-Rough-and-Ready to cheer Minnie's spirits.
-
-"Bravo, Tom!" exclaims Rough-and-Ready. "It might be a good deal
-worse. We have escaped greater dangers than the present one, and if we
-act wisely and bravely we shall escape this. But it all depends upon
-ourselves, and if we lose courage, we lose all. You must bear that in
-mind, my dear. Why, this day twelve months we may be talking together,
-and smiling at these experiences which now seem so hard to bear!"
-
-But Minnie only smiles sadly in reply, and Joshua asks Rough-and-Ready
-if there is any thing they can give him to enable him to bear them in
-remembrance.
-
-"Nothing is needed," replies Rough-and-Ready. "We have not been
-together for a very long time, but our acquaintanceship has been
-sufficiently eventful to cause us never to be able to forget each
-other. Yet I should like one thing," with a tender glance at Minnie.
-
-"What?" she asks, learning by his look that it is something in her
-power to give.
-
-"A piece of your hair, Minnie," he says.
-
-Minnie desires Joshua to cut off a lock with his knife, and he cuts a
-thick tress and gives it to Rough-and-Ready, who winds it round his
-finger and puts it into his pocket.
-
-"Now," says he, "for a little sensible talk. Your sole aim must be to
-endeavor to work your way near to the settled districts, where you may
-have the chance of falling in with white people. Southward lies your
-chance of being rescued. Every day the squatters are coming farther
-inland in search of new ground for cattle-stations, and every day this
-fresh opening up of the country adds to the chances of escape.
-Whosesoever lot it is to first fall in with our countrymen must tell
-them that there are two white people living with one of the native
-tribes who are desirous of getting into civilized company again. That
-will make them look out for us perhaps. You will find that stockmen
-and bushmen are as fine and manly a set of fellows as you would desire
-to meet. I think you have the best chance of first hearing the crack
-of a stockman's whip, for your tribe is more of a southern one than
-ours." Then Rough-and-Ready told them, as much for the purpose of
-diverting Minnie's attention from the sad parting near at hand as for
-any other, of the wonderful enterprise of the Australian pioneers of
-progress, of the dangers they cheerfully encounter, of the unknown
-country they bravely plunge into, of the hardships they bear and make
-light of, and of the grand future that awaits the beautiful Australian
-continent.
-
-"To my thinking," he says with enthusiasm, "there is no life that
-contains so much pure enjoyment as the life of a backwoodsman. I would
-not change it for any other--only I would prefer, for occasional mates
-and companions, white people instead of savages. I don't believe man
-was intended to live in close cities."
-
-"But even such a life as you describe," says Joshua, "leads to the
-making of great cities. The pioneers go first, and the masses follow."
-
-"That's the worst of it," says Rough-and-Ready; "they follow, and are
-not content to live naturally. They make streets and cramp them up
-with just room enough for a score of men to walk abreast in. Down in
-Sydney there are streets, as you know, where not a half a dozen men
-could walk abreast through; but that's the way of all cities, large or
-small. Directly new land is opened up, in troop the masses, as you
-call them, who make their streets and build their houses as if there
-wasn't an inch of ground to spare; while all around them are thousands
-and thousands of miles of lovely country, with trees and flowers, and
-fruit, and fish, and game, inviting them to come and enjoy life as it
-ought to be enjoyed!"
-
-"Well," says Joshua, "'tis the way of the world. _You_ were never
-intended to live in cities, that's clear."
-
-"I don't know. I dare say, once upon a time, I should have thought I
-was mad if such ideas as I have now had entered my head. I wasn't
-always so rough as I am now. But cities are necessary, I suppose; and
-it's folly to talk as I do. Why, I don't doubt that in less than fifty
-years a city will be built even here in these wild woods; and perhaps
-on this very spot where we now sit they'll build a prison." He speaks
-these last words with a dash of bitterness: but he soon shakes off his
-cynical humor, and proceeds to speak of more important matters
-concerning the present. "Be especially careful of one thing," he
-concludes, "never by any chance let them see your accordion." (Joshua
-had it slung round his shoulders, wrapped in a bag of fur which Minnie
-had made for it.) "When you play, let the natives hear the music, not
-see where it comes from. By that means you will best preserve your
-influence and Minnie's over them. And bear in mind--work southward."
-
-Here two natives make their appearance, and after looking attentively
-at the white people, glide away quietly.
-
-"'Tis time to go," says Rough-and-Ready, jumping to his feet; "that is
-their delicate way of telling us that they are waiting." Minnie, with
-streaming eyes, raises her face to his. He stoops and kisses her, and
-says tenderly, "God bless and protect you, my dear!" The four of them
-shake hands sorrowfully, and part--never again to meet on earth. So
-Rough-and-Ready and Tom the sailmaker disappear from the yearning gaze
-of their friends, and from this story; and Joshua and Minnie are left
-thus strangely alone.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXVII.
-HARSH JUDGMENTS.
-
-
-The foundering of the "Merry Andrew" and the loss of every soul on
-board were duly recorded in the newspapers, and utterly shattered the
-happiness of that humble home in Stepney wherein love and content had
-dwelt for so many years. If Mrs. Marvel's daughter Sarah, who has
-played an insignificant part in this history, had been at home,
-unmarried, her parents might have derived relief and consolation in
-watching the progress of her fortunes; but Sarah had had the rare good
-fortune to be quickly wooed and quickly won by a country mechanic, and
-her subsequent career has nothing in common with these pages. So that
-Mr. and Mrs. Marvel were left alone in their unhappy position. They
-could not bear to live longer in the house in which Joshua had been
-born and reared, and they agreed to Dan's proposition, that they
-should move, and live with him and his sisters. What added to their
-unhappiness was, that they were at war with every one of their
-neighbors. When the news of the loss of the "Merry Andrew" reached
-Stepney, the neighbors one and all decided that Joshua was guilty, and
-many of them declared that the punishment which had overtaken him was
-a just visitation. To listen to this in silence seemed to Joshua's
-family to be nothing less than flat treason; they fought stoutly and
-earnestly against the calumny, and defended the character of their
-lost son with all the strength of their loving hearts. But vainly. The
-neighbors persisted in their belief until George Marvel gave out that
-if he caught any man speaking against the dead, he would thrash him.
-He had not long to wait to give effect to his words. He came home one
-day with a black eye and a bruised face. "I've been fighting Bob
-Turner," he said in explanation, "for taking away our Josh's good
-name." Now Bob Turner was a favorite in the neighborhood, and the
-cause in which he received a drubbing was not his alone, but all
-his neighbors' as well. Was free and fair speech to be burked by
-such an obstinate and opinionated old fellow as George Marvel? Were
-they to be deprived of their legitimate privilege of gossiping and
-tittle-tattling? Things had come to a pretty pass, when a man was to
-be allowed to bully all his neighbors because they wouldn't agree with
-him. The fight between Bob Turner and George Marvel was an exciting
-topic of conversation in every house for a dozen streets round; and a
-unanimous verdict was given in favor of Bob Turner, who was looked
-upon in some sort of way as the general champion of the important
-privilege of Tittle-tattle. Much sympathy was expressed for him,
-inasmuch as he had been taken home after the fight with a battered
-nose and bunged-up eyes, and could not go to his work for a week
-afterwards. During that week George Marvel thrashed another man, and
-called a woman unpleasant names; and when the woman's husband demanded
-an explanation, he received one of such a nature as to convert him
-instantly into an active enemy. Then Bob Turner, convalescent, made
-his appearance in the streets again, with traces of disfigurement in
-his face; and burning with animosity and shame, armed himself with a
-stone tied in the corner of his pocket-handkerchief, and, swinging his
-sling defiantly, expressed his regret that Joshua had been drowned,
-for thereby the gallows had been cheated. George Marvel, hearing this,
-went in search of his enemy Bob, and came away again with his hand so
-disabled by a blow from the sling, that he also could not work for a
-week. At which Bob Turner rejoiced, and all the neighbors rejoiced
-with him. After that George Marvel refused to speak to any of his
-work-mates, and they, in retaliation, passed a resolution sending him
-to "Coventry" for six months; which sending to "Coventry" may, to the
-uninitiated, be described as the very refinement of cruelty, inasmuch
-as it ignores the offender's existence, and condemns him not to be
-spoken to by any of his fellow-workmen. This enforced silence was a
-dreadful punishment to George Marvel. He bore it patiently enough for
-two or three weeks; but then it became a horrible torture. To sit at
-his work day after day, and week after week, uttering no word, and
-with his work-mates avoiding his very look, was almost maddening. It
-drove him to something which I am sorry to have to record; it drove
-him to drink. And the habit that began to grow upon him was of the
-worst kind. Having no one to drink with him, he drank by himself, and
-soon began to carry a flat bottle in his pocket, liberally supplied
-with that national curse--Gin.
-
-Although it may be objected of George Marvel that in his behavior
-towards his neighbors he carried things with too high a hand, he acted
-only in strict accordance with his nature; and indeed, if he had been
-less dictatorial and more conciliatory it is likely that the same
-result mould have been produced. It was not to be expected of him to
-be gentle and self-suffering under the dreadful accusation that was
-brought against his son, when Mrs. Marvel's conduct was taken into
-consideration. She could not listen patiently to the revilings of the
-neighbors; to remonstrate with them, to speak gently to them, to beg
-of them to be more merciful in their speech, would have been an
-injustice to the memory of her son. Every tender remembrance
-connected with him--and ah, how many there were, and how she cherished
-them!--urged her to defend him. And she did defend him, with all her
-mother's love, and with flaming eyes and agitated breast; told the
-revilers that they ought to be ashamed of themselves, and that they
-must be bad and wicked themselves, else they could not set their
-tongues to such bad and wicked accusations of the best son that ever
-blessed a mother's eyes. Poor thing! it was a sad sight to see her
-make her indignant defence in public, and then to see her in her
-room--pale, powerless, trembling--sink into a chair, overcome by the
-agony of her grief. It was not long before white hairs began to
-multiply, and before the cheerful look quite died out of her face. And
-Dan and Ellen worked on, and never lost their faith in the dear one
-who was lost to them; and Susan, notwithstanding what had befallen,
-still watched and rose in the night, and went into the street,
-awaiting the return of Basil Kindred's murderer. But no word of him
-passed her lips; she worked at her dressmaking in silence, and never
-uttered a cheerful word. A blight had fallen upon those once happy
-homes.
-
-They had, however, two friends and constant visitors, Praiseworthy
-Meddler and Solomon Fewster. Through good and evil report, these two
-friends remained faithful to Them, although from widely-different
-motives. Considering all the circumstances, every thing had turned out
-very fortunate for Solomon Fewster. He confessed as much to himself
-exultantly, and curiously enough, gave himself some credit for having
-brought it about. Every tittle of evidence against him had been
-destroyed; no suspicion rested against him. Joshua was drowned; and
-Ellen remained, looking prettier in her black dress than he had ever
-seen her. He was sure of her now. He had only to wait. She had an
-encumbrance, certainly, which he would gladly have dispensed with--her
-baby-girl, born in sorrow. But he made up his mind that he would be
-kind to her, if she lived; and this resolve, to his own thinking,
-atoned for any hand he may have had in Joshua's misfortunes. When he
-saw Ellen with her baby in her lap, he thought, and thought rightly,
-that he had never seen a more beautiful sight. "One day," he said to
-himself, "I shall see her with a child of mine upon her breast;" and
-he dreamed with tender pleasure, and with no pangs of conscience, of
-the happy time to come.
-
-So time passed on, and no ray of sunshine illumined the darkness of
-that unhappy home. Things were going from bad to worse. George Marvel
-was not a confirmed drunkard, but he drank more than was good for him;
-and his reputation as a cunning workman was on the wane. He did not
-work regularly either; he was often absent, and earned less money. His
-wife expostulated with him many times, and begged him not to drink. He
-listened without impatience, and said, "It's of no use, Maggie; if I
-didn't drink I should go mad. I'm an altered man to what I was, and
-I've brought it all on myself."
-
-"Nay, George," she said, "you cannot say that and mean it."
-
-(It is to be noticed as a singular thing that now she never called her
-husband "father," and indeed had not done so since the news of
-Joshua's death had reached them. The delicacy and thoughtfulness of a
-faithful wife's love are not to be excelled.)
-
-"I _can_ say that and mean it, Maggie," he replied; "I have been the
-cause of all this. I wasn't content that my son should be a
-wood-turner; no, I drove him to sea and away from all of us. We might
-have been as happy as the day is long if he had remained at home. And
-he would have remained but for me. I remember what you said, Maggie,
-as well as if you'd said it last night: 'If Joshua is shipwrecked,
-don't forget that I warned you beforehand.'"
-
-"O George!" cried Mrs. Marvel, in an agony of remorse, "how can you
-bring my wicked words up against me now?"
-
-"I do not bring them up against you, wife; I bring them up against
-myself. And they were wise and good words--not wicked ones. I ought to
-have listened to them; but I was obstinate and pig-headed, and
-thought, like a fool, that I knew better than you. Ah! but it's too
-late to alter what is past; and I've brought death to our son and
-misery to you, and shame on all of us."
-
-Then he refused to listen to her longer, and walked away to chew the
-cud of his remorse, and to drink more gin. To her and to the others in
-the house he was gentle: but to everybody else he was a bear. One
-night he came home in a condition which may be described as neither
-drunk nor sober. Dan and Ellen were sitting together, and the baby--to
-whom they had given Mrs. Marvel's name of Maggie--was lying in the
-cradle, when he came into the house. It belonged to his humor not to
-show himself ashamed of his new bad habit: when he was drunk he did
-not slink away and hide himself; but exhibited a kind of reckless
-defiance, for which it would have been as hard for him as for others
-to account. So upon this occasion he came into the room, quickly
-followed by his wife, who never watched him out of doors, but who
-attended to him in the house as if he were a child. He took his seat
-in the chair which Ellen placed for him, and sat moody and silent
-while Mrs. Marvel quickly set his supper before him. But he could not
-eat it. He pushed the food from him fretfully, and took his wife's
-hand and patted it, and then said suddenly,--
-
-"Maggie, we must go away from here."
-
-"Go away, George!" she exclaimed. "Where to?"
-
-"I don't know; but I can't stop here much longer. If I do, I shall
-bring fresh disgrace upon you. I can't live this life any longer; it
-is killing me. We have already lost our good name and our good
-character in the neighborhood, and where I used to get respect I now
-get contempt. And, Maggie, I am afraid of myself! A new workman came
-into the shop to-day, and I heard Bob Turner tell him about us and
-about our poor lost boy, and speaking of him in such a way--Dan!
-Ellen!" he cried, appealing to them in justification of himself
-"_could_ you stand by quietly and listen to shameful words spoken of
-our Joshua? Could you restrain yourself if you heard him spoken of as
-a--Oh, but I cannot say it!"
-
-Ellen rose, with flashing eyes and cheeks burning with honest
-indignation.
-
-"No," she exclaimed; "I could not, father. I should tell the wretch he
-was a coward and a villain."
-
-"I told him so--your very words: I called him a coward and a villain;
-and I almost had my hand on his throat, when the other men interfered.
-But there was a row in the place for an hour: for I was almost mad.
-And then the master called me into his room, and told me--what do you
-think? Why, that he was very sorry to see the change that had taken
-place in me lately; that he was very sorry to see that I had taken to
-drink; that I was a good workman, and that I had worked well for him
-for a many years; but that if I couldn't behave myself as I used to
-do, I must find another shop. That was a pretty thing to say to
-me!--the best workman he ever had, and the steadiest too--no, I can't
-say that now; but I could up to a little time ago. I had a mind to
-take off my apron, and fling it in his face, but thought of all of you
-stopped me. Instead of that, I asked him what he would have done in my
-place supposing he had had a son; but he stopped me there, and said
-that he was talking business, and not sentiment. With that I flung
-myself out of the room, and swore I'd join the Chartists, and teach
-the masters one day that workmen have hearts"--But Mr. Marvel broke
-down here and glared about him in violent agitation.
-
-They let him be, and waited till he was calmer; they had studied how
-best to humor him. Then Mrs. Marvel said:--
-
-"What do you think we had best do, George?"
-
-"I don't know," he answered somewhat roughly; "I'm not fit to give
-advice. I was dead against you when you didn't want our poor boy to go
-to sea, and I'm rightly served for it; but I'll never advise again.
-I'll be led now, not lead."
-
-At this point, Dan, purposely, but without attracting observation,
-pushed the cradle so as to awake baby, and thus caused a diversion.
-After that, he quietly gave Ellen and Mrs. Marvel to understand that
-he wanted to speak to Mr. Marvel alone, and the women presently glided
-out of the room. George Marvel took no notice of their departure, and
-indeed did not notice it until Dan aroused his attention. Then he
-said,--
-
-"Where's Ellen and the wife?"
-
-"Gone to bed, sir," replied Dan; "and I'm glad of it, because I wanted
-to speak to you."
-
-George Marvel gave Dan a disturbed look, and said,--
-
-"Won't another time do, Dan?"
-
-"No, sir; I want to say what I have to say now, particularly."
-
-George Marvel nodded, and somehow or other, the flat bottle in which
-he carried his gin obtruded itself unpleasantly upon his notice. It
-made a bulge in his pocket, and he tried to hide it from Dan, but did
-not succeed.
-
-"Will you give me leave to speak of certain things in the past, sir,
-and not consider it a liberty?" asked Dan.
-
-"Say what you like, Dan; I can't consider any thing you say a
-liberty."
-
-"Ah--then I may speak of another thing presently, which makes us all
-very unhappy." (George Marvel shifted uneasily upon his chair, and
-wished he could get rid of the flat bottle which made itself so
-conspicuous in his breast-pocket.) "We have gone through many changes
-in our humble life; but for the most part we have been very happy. Do
-you remember, sir, when father died, how perplexed I was as to how we
-should live, and how, when every thing seemed to be a failure, and
-there didn't seem to be a ray of hope, you came to me with twelve
-pounds four shillings, in a bag, which you had collected for us among
-the neighbors?" (George Marvel groaned, and thought, "What would the
-neighbors say to me now if I went to them on such an errand? But I was
-respected then.") "Well, sir, from that time fortune smiled upon us,
-and we got on, until the unhappy day came. You know, sir, what father
-died of; it causes me shame and sorrow to think of, although it is a
-long time ago. I remember how Ellen and I used to sit here, in this
-very room, and tremble when we heard his step in the passage--she was
-frightened, but I was more ashamed than frightened. There was the day
-poor mother was buried--I shall never forget that night when we sat
-here in the dark; Mrs. Marvel was very kind to us that day, but indeed
-she was always that. Jo's mother couldn't be otherwise." (George
-Marvel gave a gasp, and lowered his head.) "It cuts, sir, to speak of
-Jo in this way; I feel it as well as you. But it may do good. Now I'll
-tell you what I thought that night of poor mother's funeral, when I
-heard father stumbling in the passage. I thought it was cruel and
-unkind to mother; I thought that even if he had the right to bring
-shame on himself (which I am certain he hadn't, for no man has), he
-had no right to bring it on us; I thought that perhaps poor mother
-died sooner than she might have done if father had been a steady and
-sober man. For father earned very little money, and mother had to work
-very hard to make both ends meet. I have known her get up in the
-winter mornings at five o'clock, and work and slave till near
-midnight, and all because of father's idleness. Now tell me, sir, you
-whom I have always looked up to because you are a just man, could any
-thing justify father in leading the life he did?"
-
-"Nothing, Dan," replied George Marvel, in a low voice.
-
-"He did not even have the excuse of a great grief," said Dan
-courageously and tenderly. "Why, when he died that dreadful death,
-shamed and shocked as I was, I looked upon it as a mercy to him and to
-us that he was taken away. Yet, going a long way back, to the time
-when I was very young, I remember that father was not so very bad; he
-used to drink a little, but was not always drunk. It grew upon him, I
-suppose, until it mastered him, and made him what he became."
-Certainly, Dan proved himself the cunningest of physicians; he had
-brought home to George Marvel a consciousness of the abyss towards
-which he was walking, and had executed his task tenderly, wisely, and
-without giving offence. "Now, come, sir," continued Dan boldly; "let
-us look things straight in the face. You said you must go away from
-here--you mean all of us, of course. Have you any idea where we should
-move to?"
-
-"None, Dan. Only one thing is plain to me--ay, much plainer to me
-after what you have said--and that is that I must go from this
-neighborhood, where once I held up my head and was respected, but
-where now every man and woman is my enemy. I never will be friends
-with them again--never! If they held out their hands to me now, I
-should refuse them after what they have said of our poor dead boy."
-
-"Dead boy!" mused Dan. "Are you certain, sir, that Jo is dead?" So
-startled was Mr. Marvel by the question, that he gazed at Dan in
-speechless astonishment. "I haven't spoken of it to anybody else, but
-something tells me that our Joe is alive. Yes, sir, you may well stare
-at me, for every other person but you and Ellen and Mrs. Marvel would
-call me mad for saying such a thing. I can give you no reason for the
-belief--for it is a belief, not a fancy. Haven't you heard, sir, of
-men being wrecked on strange lands, and living there for many years
-after they were supposed to be dead? Haven't you heard of men living
-amongst savages, and suddenly appearing among their friends years and
-years after they were lost? Some such thing, happily, may have
-occurred to Jo."
-
-"But it's two years now since Josh went away," gasped Mr. Marvel; and
-then added, "Don't tell mother, Dan; it would drive her out of her
-senses."
-
-"I shall wait before I tell her, but I shall tell Ellen when the
-proper time comes. Hope isn't a bad thing, sir.
-
-"But hope without reason," suggested Mr. Marvel.
-
-"Except the reason that exists and the comfort that exists in thinking
-of the cases that we have read of in stories of shipwrecked men who
-have been preserved from death. But hope is a good thing always,
-whether it comes from reason or fancy. And if you can believe as I
-believe, it will be the better and not the worse for you. Indeed,
-indeed, sir, you don't know how earnest I am in this. Think of the
-friendship that exists between me and Jo; I believe it to be something
-better and higher than ordinary friendships among boys and men. It has
-grown up with us, until it has become almost a part of our very being.
-We are never out of each other's thoughts; when he was away on his
-first voyage he was always thinking of me, and I of him. And that
-Christmas night that he came home--do you know what happened then,
-sir? Ellen can tell you that during the whole of that day I was uneasy
-about Jo; I had dreamed of him the night before, and my dream made me
-unhappy, for I was convinced that he was in danger. I had no reason
-for that, nor had I any reason for telling Ellen that Jo was very near
-us an hour before he came to the door. But unhappily, it all came true
-as I feared. Now, sir, I have thought often that if Jo was dead, I
-should feel it and know it--and I don't feel it and don't know it.
-Something keeps whispering to me, 'You will see him again, be with him
-again.' And I believe that I shall. For last night, sir, I dreamed of
-Jo, and Jo was alive; and as sure as we're sitting here talking, we
-shall see Jo one day, and all the dreadful mystery that looks so black
-against him will be cleared up."
-
-Mr. Marvel jumped to his feet, and walked excitedly about the room.
-There was something contagious in Dan's enthusiasm. So earnest, so
-thrilling was Dan's voice, that Mr. Marvel's heart beat high with the
-hope in which there was no reason.
-
-"I have not done yet, sir. When you said to-night that you must go
-away from here, I was amazed, for it seemed to belong to part of my
-dream. Jo seemed to say to me, 'I can't come to you Dan; come to me.'
-And I want to go to him"--
-
-Mr. Marvel stopped suddenly in his walk, and stood before Dan with a
-startled look on his face.
-
-"I want to go to him, or as near to him as I can. The last place Jo
-was heard of was at Sydney, and the ship is supposed to have foundered
-somewhere near the Australian coast. Well, sir, if by any means it can
-be managed, we ought to go to Australia."
-
-"All of us!" exclaimed Mr. Marvel.
-
-"All of us," repeated Dan. "Why not? We are miserable here--unhappy
-here. We haven't, as you say, a friend in the place. Everybody is
-against Jo, and believe him to be bad, while we know him to good. I
-agree with you, sir, that if those we thought were our friends and who
-have spoken against Jo were to hold out their hands to me, I would not
-take them. It would be treasonable to Jo. To live on here in this way
-would only be adding to our unhappiness. I dare say we could manage to
-get along out there. Mr. Meddler says it is a rising place, and a
-splendid country for a poor man to get along in. You could take your
-tools, and could get work. I could take my birds, and should be able
-to get plenty there that I could train. Why, sir, it would be a
-splendid thing, and the best for all of us."
-
-"I believe it would--I believe it would," said Mr. Marvel, his voice
-trembled with eagerness; "but where is the money to come from?"
-
-"We have forty pounds of Jo's, sir, that he left for you and me; I
-wouldn't mind it being spent that way. That wouldn't be any thing like
-enough, I know; but I think I have a friend. However, sir, let us
-think over it for a little while. I am glad that we've had this talk.
-You'll forgive me, sir, won't you, for what I said in the first part
-of it?"
-
-George Marvel made no reply, but, standing by Dan, put his arm
-affectionately round the neck of his son's friend; then left the room,
-and comforted his wife by a very simple act. He took the flat bottle
-out of his pocket, and said, "Maggie, I have done with this; I shall
-never fill it again." And, happily for him and all of them, he kept
-his word.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXVIII.
-MR. MARVEL SHAKES THE DUST FROM HIS FEET.
-
-
-Dan took the Old Sailor in to his confidence, and the impracticable
-old fellow excitedly proposed that they should leave Stepney and come
-and live with him in his barge. But as Dan declared that that was
-impossible, the Old Sailor's hopes fell down to zero.
-
-"We can't live in this neighborhood much longer," said Dan; "it
-wouldn't so much matter to me, for I'm always indoors, but it does to
-Jo's father. I know what he must suffer. You see, what we want is a
-friend."
-
-"Ah!" said the Old Sailor, "what you want is a friend. Well, we'll
-talk of this again by and by."
-
-"He went down stairs to see Ellen, and found her crying over her baby.
-
-"Come, come, my dear," he said; "this won't do; you'll be making an
-old woman of yourself in no time." And he dried her eyes with his
-handkerchief.
-
-"You're the only friend we've got now," said Ellen sadly.
-
-The Old Sailor thought: "Says Dan, 'What we want is a friend.' Says
-Ellen, 'You're the only friend we've got.'" And he put this and that
-together, as he had done once before in the memorable conversation he
-had had with Joshua at Gravesend, when he set all matters straight.
-
-"What were you crying for, my lass?" he said aloud.
-
-"Ah, sir!" replied Ellen, "I don't mind telling you. I was looking
-down at baby, and thinking that when she is old enough to understand
-things--and baby is very quick, and almost understands already, don't
-you, my pet?--she will hear such stories from ill-natured people about
-father, as will make her as unhappy as her poor mother is. When I
-thought that, sir, I began to cry, and was almost wicked enough to
-believe that it would be better for both of us to die than to live
-amongst such bad-hearted people."
-
-The Old Sailor did not stop long, but walked away in profound thought.
-
-Soon after that, another misfortune occurred. George Marvel told them
-that he had left his situation. "I gave it up of my own accord,
-Maggie," he said to his wife, to whom he first spoke upon the subject;
-"If I hadn't, I should have done something that would have made the
-master give me warning, and I should have been disgraced. I can't make
-sure of myself now; my blood boils up so when I hear a word dropped
-about Josh, that every thing swims before my eyes. I can't help it, my
-dear. Don't blame me."
-
-She did not blame him, but said she was sure he had done what he
-thought was for the best.
-
-"I've worked in the shop, man and boy, for more than thirty years," he
-said huskily, "and I doubt if I shall get another. Trade's overdone. A
-good many men are out, and I'm not as young as I was. I don't quite
-see the end of it, Maggie."
-
-She cheered him and comforted him, and he went out the next morning in
-search of work, feeling very much ashamed of himself. It was like
-begging. He came home disheartened and footsore, and hadn't a cheerful
-word or look for any one. "A nice ending this is!" he said bitterly.
-"But I brought it all on myself. I shouldn't have driven our boy to
-sea." He seemed to think it was nothing but strict justice that he
-should take all the blame upon himself. He earned so little money,
-that presently he had to break into Joshua's legacy to him and Dan,
-and it began to melt like magic. Things were getting very bad. The
-dressmaking work, too, was slackening, and Susan and Ellen had many
-idle days.
-
-Solomon Fewster observed all this with inward satisfaction, although
-outwardly he sympathized with them, and was profuse in his offers of
-assistance. But they would not accept any thing from him; and very
-soon the proceeds of the birds he continued to purchase from Dan
-became their most dependable source of revenue. Notwithstanding that
-he was careful never to say a word of the past that would be
-distasteful to them, he did not make much way in their good graces.
-They did not show this, however; he was consistent in his offers of
-assistance and in his friendly behavior, and they could not show
-ingratitude; but their instincts were against him. He allowed a year
-to pass before he spoke to Ellen of his love for her, and even then he
-thought it best first to make sure of the co-operation of her friends.
-He addressed himself in the first place to George Marvel, who opened
-his eyes very wide, and was indeed very much astonished at Mr.
-Fewster's declaration. He had never suspected that Mr. Fewster had an
-attachment for Ellen.
-
-"I loved her before she was married," said Mr. Fewster to him; "but
-then I saw that she loved your poor son, and I was too honorable to
-interpose. So I did not distress her by telling her of my love."
-
-Mr. Marvel thought that that was manly and straightforward, but asked
-Mr. Fewster why he spoke to him upon the subject.
-
-"You are in a sort of way Ellen's father," replied Mr. Fewster, "and
-it is due to you that I should speak to you first. I should not be
-justified otherwise in offering myself to Ellen. I have something to
-say also, if you will excuse me for taking the liberty"--
-
-Seeing that Mr. Fewster hesitated, Mr. Marvel bade him proceed, and
-then the wooer cunningly placed before Mr. Marvel certain advantages
-that would accrue to him if Ellen consented.
-
-"I should feel it my duty," said Mr. Fewster, "to see that the man I
-look upon as Ellen's father is properly cared for."
-
-"Never mind that," said Mr. Marvel; he had recovered from his
-astonishment, and felt a sort of displeasure at Mr. Fewster's
-proposal. "Never mind that," he repeated dryly, "but tell me what it
-is you want me to do."
-
-"I want you to give your consent, Mr. Marvel, and to assist me."
-
-"Assist you in making a woman love you, Mr. Fewster!" exclaimed Mr.
-Marvel. "No, no; the matter rests with you and Ellen. It is none of
-mine, and any feeling I may have in the matter it is but right I
-should keep to myself."
-
-"But you won't say any thing in my disfavor," urged Mr. Fewster,
-alarmed at Mr. Marvel's coldness of manner, and thinking to himself
-that when Ellen was his wife, he would have as little as possible to
-do with the Marvels.
-
-"I shall say nothing to Ellen one way or the other," replied Mr.
-Marvel moodily. "I have no doubt Ellen knows what is due to herself.
-And to Joshua," he was about to add, but he only thought the words;
-they did not pass his lips. When Mr. Fewster went away, Mr. Marvel was
-very despondent, and thought with some bitterness that he would have
-spoken to Ellen's lover very differently, if he hadn't been so low
-down in the world. So discouraged was Mr. Fewster by his interview
-with Mr. Marvel, that he did not speak to any other members of the
-family, not even to Dan, but came straight to the point at once with
-Ellen. After all, whom else did it concern but Ellen and himself? She
-was sitting in the kitchen, working; baby was in the cradle, and upon
-Ellen's face were traces of tears. When she and baby were alone, her
-tears flowed too readily now. Solomon Fewster had prepared himself
-carefully for the occasion. He was attired in his best, and presented
-quite a holiday appearance. He bought a bunch of flowers for Ellen, of
-which he begged her acceptance. With a little hesitancy of manner, she
-took them from his hand and placed them on the table. There is
-something in the air of a wooer that betrays his purpose to the woman
-he loves, and when Ellen looked into Mr. Fewster's face and saw this,
-she rose hurriedly, and stooped to take baby out of the cradle,
-intending to leave the room. But Mr. Fewster's hand upon her arm
-restrained her.
-
-"Nay, Ellen," he said awkwardly, "let baby alone for a little; don't
-disturb her--she looks so pretty in her sleep." And calling up a look
-of admiration in his face, he contemplated baby with an appearance of
-affectionate interest, which would have won its way to the heart of
-most mothers at once. But not to Ellen's. Mr. Fewster's tender manner
-brought back to her the memory of all his disagreeable attentions when
-they were first acquainted, and she waited in silent apprehension for
-what she dreaded was to come. But round about the bush went Mr.
-Fewster.
-
-"Things are very much changed, Ellen," he observed. She would have
-resented his calling her by her Christian name on the present
-occasion, although he had often done so before; but he was Dan's
-patron and their chief dependence, and she did not dare to object.
-"Very much changed," he repeated. "Mr. Marvel, poor fellow, looks
-quite shabby. He has a difficulty in getting work, I believe. Very
-sad--very sad. But it's the way of the world. One man up, another man
-down, Lucky, man that who can always keep up."
-
-"He is indeed, Mr. Fewster," said Ellen, constrained to say something
-in reply. "But we can't help misfortunes coming."
-
-"No; but we can often turn bad fortune into good. Now, looking lately
-at Mr. and Mrs. Marvel, who are far from happy, poor things! far from
-happy, I have been thinking what a beautiful thing it would be to make
-them easier in their mind as regards their worldly circumstances, for
-there is no doubt that that constitutes the greatest part of their
-unhappiness. As for the other part of their unhappiness--family
-grief--time will soften that. But time doesn't soften poverty if it is
-always with you. It is a sad thing, a very sad thing, but it is so
-unfortunately. There is no harder misfortune in the world than
-poverty."
-
-"Yes, there is, Mr. Fewster," said Ellen, who had taken baby on her
-lap as a kind of protection. "There are griefs of the heart which are
-bitterer to bear than poverty."
-
-"I stand corrected. But then that will be the case with the few, not
-with the many--with the few who are superior to most people, and who
-are the more to be admired for the possession of such excellent
-virtues. I know one woman who is far above all others in this respect,
-and whom I therefore love and admire far above all other women." Ellen
-trembled and turned very pale, but Mr. Fewster proceeded rapidly,
-fearful lest he had been too precipitate, "Coming back to Mrs.
-Marvel--would it not be a good thing to make her comfortable in her
-mind about her worldly circumstances?"
-
-"It would be--a very good thing," answered Ellen, in a low tone.
-
-"And it can be done. There is one person who has it in her power to do
-this for Mrs. Marvel." Again Mr. Fewster paused until Ellen asked,
-"Who is that person, Mr. Fewster?"
-
-"You," he said eagerly. "You can do this, and at the same time you can
-make a man who has loved you from the first day he saw you the
-happiest man in the world."
-
-"Stop, sir!" cried Ellen, in a firm voice. "You must not say what you
-were about to say. It would be folly--worse than folly--it would be
-wicked for me to pretend not to understand you. It would be merciful
-to me, and best for both of us, that you should not say any thing more
-now. I have no heart for any thing but my grief and my child."
-
-So earnestly did she speak, that Fewster was fain to desist. The only
-words he said were, "You shall see how I respect and love you: your
-word is my law;" and straightway left her. But he did not leave her
-despairingly. One little word that Ellen had unconsciously uttered
-filled him with hopeful anticipation. She had said, "It will be
-merciful to me, and best for both of us, that you should not say any
-thing more _now_." She had put no impression upon the word; but the
-wish that "keeps the word of promise to the ear" imbued it with a
-distinct utterance to Solomon Fewster's sense. "I must not say any
-thing more _now_," he thought; "that opens the way for the future. I
-must be content for a little while." He thought he had made a good
-move, and that he was sure to win the game.
-
-When he was gone, Ellen caught her baby to her bosom, and ran to Dan's
-room for consolation--almost, as it seemed to her, for protection.
-There she found George Marvel sitting in an attitude of sadness. He
-had not had an hour's work for the last fortnight, and half of
-Joshua's savings was spent: but barely twenty pounds remained. When
-that was gone! Well, that was what was fermenting in George Marvel's
-mind now. When that was gone, what was he to do? Sit down and starve?
-Without doubt, they could not all live upon Dan's earnings; for Dan
-and his sisters earned barely enough to keep themselves. He groaned in
-bitterness of spirit to think that he, the only man in the house who
-could work, was doomed to idleness. He had striven hard, and still
-strove, to obtain employment--with what success has been narrated. He
-felt at times as if he would be justified in demanding work, instead
-of begging for it. Indeed, on one occasion he had asked for work in
-some what defiant tones, and, being refused, had spoken out of the
-bitterness of his heart, of the injustice and hardship that stood in
-his way of earning food, being willing to work for it honestly. The
-only answer he received was an order to quit the shop immediately, if
-he did not wish to be given in custody. The sentiments to which he had
-given utterance were soon made known to many masters in the trade,
-some of whom afterwards, in reply to his applications, said they did
-not want any Chartists in their workrooms. His case was a desperate
-one indeed. The problem which he was trying to solve as Ellen entered
-the room after her interview with Solomon Fewster was a common one
-enough, more's the pity. He would have expressed it in very simple
-words: "I must work to live. I am able to work, and willing. I cannot
-get work. How am I to live?" Ellen saw the trouble in his face, and
-sat down by his side. He gave her just one glance, and learned what
-had occurred; for he had seen Solomon Fewster go out of the house.
-
-"I know what has occurred, my dear," he said anxiously. "Mr. Fewster
-has been speaking to you. And your answer?"
-
-"I have no need to tell you, father," said Ellen, raising her eyes to
-his. She said nothing of the bribe Fewster had offered for her love.
-
-George Marvel saw that Ellen had refused Mr. Fewster, and he nodded
-grave approval; yet, from a sense of justice, was compelled to ask,--
-
-"Have you considered all the circumstances, Ellen? Have you considered
-the future?"
-
-"I don't know," she answered; "I only know that I have done what is
-right, and what is due to my dear Joshua's memory."
-
-All this was Greek to Dan, and it had to be explained to him. He
-listened in silence, and was very thoughtful afterwards. He let the
-matter drop, however, until he and Ellen were alone; and then he told
-her, gently and by degrees, of his belief that Joshua was not lost,
-and of his earnest desire to go over the seas and commence a new life.
-She, listening eagerly, almost breathlessly, pressed his hand to her
-lips and kissed him again and again, and was absolutely so simple as
-to share his belief. Hope revived within her; and when Dan said, "You
-are not widowed yet, dear; of that I feel assured," she blessed him
-for the words in which there was no reason.
-
-Other troubles came. Solomon Fewster, strong in cunning, made a new
-move in the game. His orders began to fall off, and in a short time he
-bought one bird where formerly he had bought three. Perhaps he
-thought, "If love won't drive Ellen into my arms, necessity may." It
-was a cruel device, mean and merciless, and it struck fresh terror to
-their hearts. They could do nothing; but wait and watch the tide come
-up. And things grew so bad for them that they had to content
-themselves with two meals a day, and those but poor and scanty ones.
-Their condition was a strange parallel to that of the unfortunate
-passengers of the "Merry Andrew" on the raft. There are wrecks on land
-as sad as any in the records of the sea.
-
-Solomon Fewster, of course, was profuse in his regrets at the
-falling-off of the business, and offered to lend Dan and Ellen money,
-which they refused. He renewed his offer many times, not offended at
-the refusal. "He wants to buy Ellen," thought Dan; "but he doesn't
-know her. Jo said once that Ellen was not the kind of a girl for a
-heroine. Would he say so now, if he could see her, I wonder?"
-
-It was in this way that he often thought of Joshua as of one who would
-be restored to them some day. He had fixed the belief firmly in his
-mind, and nothing could shake it. He had no hope of ever seeing Minnie
-again. She was as one who had passed out of his life forever. But she
-lived in his mind and in his heart, and came to him in his dreams. And
-in the light, often and often, he would muse upon her tenderly and
-lovingly.
-
-So they lived on, and the tide of adversity rose higher and higher,
-until they were compelled to begin to pawn things. But a better time
-was coming. The Old Sailor passing a pawn-shop one day in Dan's
-neighborhood--he was on his way to Dan's house--saw Ellen hurry out of
-the shamefaced door. He was so staggered that he allowed her to escape
-his sight. He had had no idea that things were so hard with them as
-that. When he recovered himself, he gave his chest a great thump,
-called himself "a blind old swab," and made his way to Dan's house. He
-went straight down to the kitchen, prying old interloper as he was,
-and caught Ellen, in the act of counting a few--very few--small pieces
-of silver and copper in Mrs. Marvel's hand. He was so distressed, that
-the blood rushed into his face. He only desired to see Ellen alone and
-speak to her, and here he was shaming them in their poverty. The
-tender-hearted old fellow was fit to sink into the ground, he was so
-remorseful. He stammered out a few words of apology, said he thought
-Ellen was alone, but that Dan would do as well. He went up to Dan, and
-to Dan's astonishment locked the door. Then he inclined his head
-melodramatically, to be sure that no one was listening, and, being
-satisfied, drew a chair close to Dan's.
-
-"Hark ye, my lad," he said: "can you and I speak to the point, and
-without beating about the bush?"
-
-"I think we can, sir," replied Dan, smiling; the Old Sailor's voice
-always did him good.
-
-"Frankly, then," said the Old Sailor, "do you find it a hard matter to
-live?"
-
-"Very hard, sir."
-
-"No money in the house, eh?"
-
-"None, sir."
-
-"And business falling off?"
-
-"Fallen off would be more correct, sir. My earnings for the last month
-not more than ten shillings."
-
-"And Mr. Marvel?"
-
-"About a day's work in the week, sir."
-
-"And the money that poor Josh left?"
-
-"All gone, sir."
-
-"O Dan!" groaned the Old Sailor, "why wasn't I told of this?"
-
-Dan gave him a sad look, but made no other reply.
-
-"And the poor mother," continued the Old Sailor, "how must she have
-suffered! And Ellen, poor lass! and the little one! Dan, Dan! if I
-don't feel to you as if you were my son, I could find it in my heart
-to be angry with you!"
-
-"Nay, sir," urged Dan gently, "you are not to blame. We are
-unfortunate, that is all. We are not the only ones, I dare say."
-
-"Come, now, open your mind to me. Look things in the face. What do you
-see before you this time twelve months?"
-
-The practical question was like a blow, and Dan trembled. The answer
-came from his reason in which there was no hope.
-
-"What do I see before me this time twelve months? Worse poverty than
-this--and this is hard enough, God knows! We are growing poorer every
-day, and every day it is a puzzle where to-morrow's food will come
-from. All our friends have fallen off from us; when Ellen and Jo's
-mother go into the streets, not one pleasant face greets them. They
-come back, sad and suffering. And they must bear it while they remain
-in this neighborhood, if they are to be true to Jo. I can understand
-now how some good people are made bad by the world's injustice. It
-won't make them bad, I can answer for that; but I'm not so sure of Mr.
-Marvel. I haven't seen a smile on his face for months; his nature
-seems to be completely changed. I am almost afraid to think what
-remorse might drive him to, for he is continually reproaching himself
-with being the cause of all our misfortunes. He says he drove Jo to
-sea, when his influence would have kept him at home; and this thought
-stings him day and night. As for me, I earn very little money now. And
-I am so stupid," he added, with an odd smile, yet thoughtful withal,
-"as to repine sometimes that we can't live without silver and copper."
-
-The Old Sailor dabbed his face with his handkerchief in a state of
-great excitement during this recital, and was compelled to wait until
-he was cool before he said, "So, taking them altogether, things are
-very bad."
-
-"Taking them altogether, sir," said Dan, "I don't see how they could
-be worse. We have only one consolation."
-
-"What is that, Dan?" asked the Old Sailor eagerly, with a faint hope
-that it was something tangible.
-
-"Our faith in Jo, and our knowledge that he is good and true, as we
-have always known him to be. Poor Jo!"
-
-The Old Sailor groaned.
-
-"You can't live on that, Dan," he said.
-
-"No, sir," replied Dan with rare simplicity; "but it is a great
-comfort, nevertheless."
-
-The Old Sailor pressed Dan's hand.
-
-"'Tisn't so bad a world," he murmured more to himself than to Dan,
-"despite its injustice." Then aloud: "What would be the best thing for
-all of you to do, Dan, under the circumstances?
-
-"There is but one thing, sir; and I might as well wish for cheese from
-the moon as wish for that."
-
-"Perhaps not, Dan, perhaps not. Tell your wish."
-
-"I want some money."
-
-"Ah! how much?"
-
-"Enough to take us to Australia, where we could commence a new life."
-
-"You hinted at that some time ago, Dan."
-
-"Yes, sir."
-
-"That's what you meant when you said you wanted a friend?"
-
-"Yes, sir."
-
-"And I took no notice of it, like a hard-hearted old hunks as I am. Do
-you know why I took no notice of it, Dan?"
-
-"No, sir."
-
-"Because I didn't want to part from you--because I didn't want to lose
-the only friends I have in the world--because I thought only of
-myself; and how lonely I should feel when you and my little Ellen and
-the good mother were thousands of miles away. Well, well! Old as I am,
-I'm not too old to learn from younger heads. Look you, my lad! But
-stop--we'll have the women up."
-
-The Old Sailor went down into the kitchen where Ellen and Mrs. Marvel
-were, and took a hand of each, and led them gravely up stairs into
-Dan's room.
-
-"This is a family council, my dears," he said, kissing them, "where we
-are to speak our minds without hesitation. Dan has been making things
-clear to me, and I see a good deal to which I've been blind, selfishly
-blind, more shame to me. When the storm came on, I had an idea that
-you might be able to weather it; but you were not strong enough, and
-human hearts have not been so kind to you as winds and waves are. The
-winds howl to-day, but a calm comes to-morrow; the waves dash over you
-for a time, but presently the sea grows smooth. That's at sea; 'tis
-different on land sometimes. You have found it so, my dears, eh?"
-
-They sighed assent, and waited in a state of painful expectancy for
-what was to come.
-
-"And here you are with every sail split, with every spar broken, with
-bulwarks dashed in, and every thing adrift. And around you cruel
-tongues and unjust hearts. What! with all this craft in view, won't
-one come forward, and ask, What cheer? Not one? And yet you've held
-out a helping hand many a time, my dear" (to Mrs. Marvel), "as I well
-know, and spared a spar here and a bit of canvas there, with a willing
-heart and a free hand. But you are pearls, you women, and teach us
-goodness. The Lord love you, and send you happier days!"
-
-He almost broke down here; but he recovered himself by a great effort,
-and continued, somewhat huskily at first:--
-
-"Ah, my dears, I've been in storms, but never a worse than this has
-been to you. Look up, my lass!" he cried to Ellen, and pointing
-upwards to the dingy paper ceiling in so earnest a tone that he found
-all of them followed the direction of his finger, while a new-born
-hope entered their hearts. "Look up! D'ye see the clouds a-breaking?
-D'ye see the sun tipping the edges with white light? If you don't,
-take my word for it, the storm's over, and a friendly craft is bearing
-down upon you." He paused awhile before he spoke again. "'You see,'
-says Dan to me, 'what we want is a friend.' Says Ellen to me, the very
-same day, 'You're the only friend we've got.' What did I do? Clap on
-sail and bear down upon you? Not I!"
-
-"Nay, sir," interposed Dan.
-
-"Hold your tongue, Dan; I deserve to have the cat for my behavior.
-Now, hark ye. Before my poor lass here was married to Josh--don't cry,
-my dear--I made over my little bit of money to them jointly, for
-better or worse. I dare say it will come to a matter of two hundred
-pounds. Will that be enough, Dan?"
-
-Dan's sobs prevented a reply, and the women sat silently thankful.
-
-"So look upon that as settled," said the Old Sailor, rising; "and make
-your arrangements. I'll see what ships are going out, and 'll let you
-know to-morrow."
-
-He left the room abruptly, unable to bear the thankful looks and tears
-of his friends. Besides which, he was almost unmanned at the thought
-of parting from them. They were the only friends he had in the world,
-as he had said; and when they were gone, he would be left lonely in
-his old age. The thought flashed across him to go with them, but he
-dismissed it at once. Not only was he too old to cross the seas, but
-he felt he could not leave his barge near the old Tower Stairs.
-
-"I should be like a fish out of water," he thought; "and besides, I
-should only be an encumbrance to the poor souls. I shall be in my
-dotage soon, and they have troubles enough of their own. No; I'll stop
-and lay my bones in Old England."
-
-So the faithful old soul set to work at once, and left himself with
-the very barest pittance to live on, in order to get together
-sufficient money for the necessities of his friends.
-
-The news soon spread. Some of the neighbors said it was a good job
-they were going; some were envious; and a few repented of their
-harshness. These last went so far as to make slight advances towards
-Mr. and Mrs. Marvel. Mr. Marvel looked at them angrily, and responded
-with hard words; but his wife, a true peacemaker, was more
-conciliatory. When she remonstrated with him, and begged him to
-consider that they were sorry because they had concurred in the
-general verdict of condemnation of Joshua, he said,--
-
-"Let be, Maggie; if they're sorry for what they've said about Josh,
-the more shame for them for hurting us as they did. You can do as you
-like; I sha'n't mind your shaking hands with them. But for me, I've
-said I'll never forgive them, and I never will." When Susan was told
-that they were going to Australia, her dull vacant face suddenly lit
-up.
-
-"We shall be near _him_," she muttered; "near Minnie too. Poor Minnie!
-where is she?"
-
-The next moment her old manner was upon her, and she relapsed into
-vacancy again.
-
-But there was one by whom the news of their intended departure was
-received with a chill of angry despair. Solomon Fewster could scarcely
-believe it when he was told. He hurried to the house, blaming himself
-for his stupidity in trying to starve Ellen into acquiescence.
-
-"This would never have come about," he thought, "if they had not been
-driven to it by necessity. I ought to have shown myself a greater
-friend than ever to Dan. Gratitude would have made Ellen love me."
-
-To obtain Ellen's love had become a mania with him. The farther she
-was removed from him, the stronger grew his desire. "Perhaps it is not
-yet too late," he thought. He broke into Dan's room in feverish haste,
-and cried,--
-
-"Good news, Dan! I've got a customer for four birds, and he wants them
-at once."
-
-"Here are two bullfinches and two canaries," replied Dan with a queer
-smile; "I thought you would have wanted them earlier. I have others
-ready, if you want more."
-
-"I'll take them by and by," said Solomon Fewster; and then treated Dan
-to a long account of the late dulness and the expected revival of
-trade, and to the certain prospect of there being a great demand for
-Dan's birds presently. Dan listened in silence, and discomfited
-Solomon Fewster by charging a higher price than usual for the
-bullfinches and canaries. Solomon Fewster thought it would be fatal to
-hesitate, and he paid the money with apparent willingness; and Dan
-gave another queer little smile as he put the money in his pocket.
-Then Fewster referred to the rumor, and Dan said it was true.
-
-"We shall sail in about a month," said Dan.
-
-"But why go at all?" asked Fewster.
-
-"We are not able to get a living here, sir," said Dan. He did not
-tell everybody of his fancy about Joshua.
-
-"If that's your only reason," urged Fewster, "stop, and let me be your
-friend. I promise that you shall never want, especially if--if"--
-
-But he could not get the intended reference to Ellen gracefully off
-his tongue.
-
-"I understand you, sir," said Dan; "but nothing that you can say can
-keep us here."
-
-At this point Mr. Marvel entered, and Fewster left. Between the two
-men there had been an utter absence of cordiality since Fewster's
-overtures respecting Ellen. Besides, Mr. Marvel had suspected why
-Fewster's commissions for birds had fallen off, and had made Dan
-acquainted with his suspicions; and this, indeed, was the reason why
-Dan, whose eyes were open to Fewster's meanness, had taken a secret
-pleasure in charging him a high price for his present purchase.
-
-Solomon Fewster tried by every means to induce them to stay, but his
-efforts were unavailing. The passages were taken, the day was fixed.
-The Old Sailor made special arrangements for the accommodation of
-Dan's birds on board ship, and Dan bought a number of young songsters
-to train on the voyage out, although the Old Sailor shook his head and
-expressed grave doubts whether the birds would live. As the day of
-departure approached, the excitement in the neighborhood grew
-stronger, and public opinion veered steadily round in favor of the
-Marvels. The band of the remorseful ones received fresh recruits
-daily, until, when the day arrived, there were not a dozen of the
-neighbors who were not sorry for the judgment that had been pronounced
-against Joshua, and who did not, in one way or another, give
-expression to their sorrow. Mr. Marvel would not listen to them; the
-others did, and took pleasure in listening to apologies which were in
-some sort a vindication of Joshua's character. But Mr. Marvel declared
-bitterly that he would shake the dust from his shoes the day he left
-Stepney, and that he was only too thankful to escape from the nest of
-vipers.
-
-"You women," he said, "are too soft-hearted for justice: if a
-scoundrel who has wronged you comes crying to you, you look kindly on
-him, and cry with him, out of the tenderness of your hearts. But for
-me, when I think of the many years we've lived here, with never a
-black mark against us--when I think of the good turns we've done for
-this one and that one, and of the manner in which they have returned
-our good offices, I'm fit to choke with passion. They tried to
-disgrace me, and would have seen us starve without offering us bit or
-sup. But now that we're going, well off as they think, they come
-whining round us, sorry for the mud they threw at us. The mud didn't
-stick, that's one comfort. I could dash my fist in their faces when I
-think of it!"
-
-So matters went on until the morning came when they were to go aboard
-the ship at Blackwell. They had a few little odds and ends to take
-with them, and a cart was at the door to convey them to the docks. All
-the women and children in the neighborhood flocked round the cart to
-see the last of the emigrants. First Ellen, with her child, got in;
-the women kissed their hands to her, and murmured to each other that
-she looked older than her years. Ellen's eyes were blinded with tears
-as she looked up at the old house and at the familiar faces in the
-crowd. Susan was the next: she looked vacantly at the throng, and
-turned her eyes to her lap, taking no further heed of them. Dan
-followed with his birds, and listened gravely, and not without
-tenderness, to the farewells which greeted him. After him came Mr.
-and Mrs. Marvel.
-
-"Good-by, my dear; God bless you! God take you safely over, my dear!"
-
-In twenty different ways were these farewells and good wishes
-expressed, and Mrs. Marvel pressed her hand upon her heart, and sobbed
-till she could not distinguish a face in the crowd that surrounded
-her.
-
-"Get in Maggie," said George Marvel; and then, deliberately and
-gravely, stooped and took off his shoes. He climbed into the cart in
-his stockings, and bending over the wheel, shook the dust from his
-shoes. "I'll take no dust from here with me," he said in a loud tone;
-"I leave that and your lying words behind me. I loved you once, and
-loved these streets; but I've hated you and them from the time you
-turned upon us and made our lives bitterer than misfortune had already
-made them. By and by, you can tell the men I've worked with and been
-kind to, that I was glad to go from the place where I was born, and
-that I shook the dust from my feet before I went away."
-
-Then, amid a dead silence, the cart lumbered away from Stepney on to
-Blackwall. There they found the Old Sailor waiting for them. "I will
-keep with you until you are fairly off," he said. They were thankful
-enough for his company, and as he did what he could to cheer them, and
-they had plenty of work to do in their cabins, they soon became more
-cheerful and hopeful than they had been for many a day. Soon the ship
-was at Gravesend, a place fraught with sad and sweet memories--for
-Ellen especially. Mrs. Friswell, at whose house the wedding was
-celebrated, came aboard to see them, and admired the baby, and
-whispered to all of them in turns, that if there ever lived a man with
-a heart tender enough for twenty men, that man was the Old Sailor, and
-no other. No need to say with what heartiness they all indorsed this
-sentiment.
-
-A surprise awaited them. On the morning of the ship's sailing, there
-came climbing up the side Solomon Fewster. He accosted them gayly.
-
-"You were wondering, I dare say, why I hadn't been to wish you
-good-by."
-
-"We thought you would be sure to come although at the last moment,"
-answered Dan.
-
-Solomon Fewster first rubbed his hands and then his chin.
-
-"No need to say good-by," he said, with a conscious look at Ellen; "I
-am going with you."
-
-They were too much astonished to reply.
-
-"Yes," he continued; "when my best friends were going, I didn't like
-the idea of stopping behind. So I've sold my business upon capital
-terms--capital terms. A good sum down, and a share in the profits for
-the next ten years. Shall be able to make plenty of money in
-Australia, eh, Mr. Meddler?"
-
-"No doubt, no doubt," said the Old Sailor, with a disturbed look.
-
-Solomon Fewster, divining that his absence would be agreeable to them,
-hurried away to look after his boxes.
-
-"I am sorry he's going," said Dan; "but it can't be helped. We must
-make the best of every thing not the worst."
-
-In the tender conversation that ensued, consequent upon their parting
-from the Old Sailor, Solomon Fewster was forgotten.
-
-"Write to me as often as you can," said the Old Sailor, "and I will
-do the same to you, though my old joints are getting stiff. You'll
-soon be settled down somewhere, and you can let me know. 'Tis a sad
-word--good-by. But I shall soon be saying good-by to all the world, my
-dears."
-
-He sat among them until the last moment, and first wished Susan
-good-by.
-
-Then said George Marvel, as he and the Old Sailor stood hand in hand,
-amidst the confusion of ropes and cases, "If there had been hearts
-like yours among our neighbors, my poor Josh's name would not have
-been blackened. Heaven will reward you. I couldn't honor my own father
-more than I honor you."
-
-The Old Sailor quivered at the stroke; he could better have stood a
-hard knock. He kissed Ellen tenderly, and she him; and he put a ribbon
-round baby's neck with a little silver whistle at the end of it. "In
-memory of me, my dear," he said.
-
-"I will teach her that it is the symbol of the heart of a good man,
-dear sir," said Ellen, her eyes full of tears; "and when she is an old
-woman--if she lives to be such--it may happen that she will show it to
-her children, and tell them her mother's sad story, and how her life
-was sweetened by the kindest, dearest, best"-- Sobs choked her voice.
-
-The Old Sailor waited a while until she recovered, and then said, with
-exquisite tenderness,--
-
-"If she will sound the whistle sometimes when she is a young woman,
-and I am in my grave, I shall hear her perhaps." He smiled
-thoughtfully at this conceit. And then folded Ellen in his arms, and
-saying, "God bless you, my lass!" released her and turned to Dan and
-Mrs. Marvel. She took his hand and kissed it; she could have knelt to
-him, her heart was so full--too full to speak.
-
-"I know, I know, my dear," he said, and kissed her. "I asked you once
-if you would like to be a sailor, Dan; do you remember?" His arm was
-resting on Dan's shoulder, and Dan drew it round his neck and laid his
-face upon it. The action conveyed such tender meaning, that the tears
-rolled down the Old Sailor's cheeks.
-
-"When I see Joe," said Dan, "I may tell him that you never doubted
-him?"
-
-"Ay, Dan," replied the Old Sailor aloud; but thought, "I shall see him
-before you do, my lad." He would not disturb Dan's faith by uttering
-the thought.
-
-"Do I remember your asking if I would like to be a sailor?" continued
-Dan. "Ah, yes! what of that day can I ever forget? You taught me to
-splice a rope, and I showed you Jo's heart and mine spliced, so that
-nothing could sever them. And the poor birds shipwrecked, as Jo is. We
-little thought then, did we, sir?" The Old Sailor grasped Dan's hand,
-and the next minute was in his boat; and the ship was swinging round,
-hiding him from the loving gaze of his friends.
-
-Through the river that runs to the sea the ship makes its way slowly
-and grandly. In the ship's stern, looking with dimmed eyes over the
-bulwarks, are Dan and Ellen and Mr. and Mrs. Marvel. Good-by, dear
-friend! Good-by, dear heart! Smaller and smaller grows the ship in his
-eyes. Can they see him still? he is lost in the whirl of boats. No; he
-is standing up, cap in hand. Good-by, faithful simple heart, richer in
-your honest goodness than if you were endowed with all the jewels that
-lie concealed in earth's depths. He is lost to them now, and they
-shall see him no more--here!
-
-Lost? No. He is with them every night in their prayers--he dwells in
-their hearts. To their dying days they think of him tenderly.
-Blessings on the dear Old Sailor!
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XXXIX.
-SO NEAR AND YET SO FAR.
-
-
-"Minnie!"
-
-"Yes, Joshua."
-
-"That is all; I thought you were asleep."
-
-"You are very kind to me, Joshua. I feel a little better to-day, I
-think."
-
-"That's a good hearing, Minnie. Get strong, my dear, for my sake."
-
-"Ah! If I could; but I fear--I fear." (This last to herself under her
-breath.) "Sit nearer, Joshua."
-
-Many moons had passed, and with the exception that Minnie had grown
-very weak, only one event of importance had occurred since the
-departure of Rough-and-Ready and Tom the sailmaker. That event was the
-death of the Lascar; and the discovery made a deep impression on
-Joshua. It occurred within a few weeks of the parting of the tribes.
-The tribe of which Opara was the chief, observing that Minnie was
-drooping, resolved to return to the spot where they had found her. By
-easy stages they travelled near to the rocks where the castaways had
-landed, and rested there some days, in the belief that Minnie would
-regain her health. The mysterious influence she had over them was
-never weakened, and as she and Joshua were inseparable, he shared in
-the favor which was shown to her. She saw this, and would not allow
-him to quit her side, fearful lest harm should befall him. One evening
-she and Joshua had wandered from the native camp to the pool where the
-Lascar had stolen upon him, with the intention of killing him; and
-they talked together of the villain, and wondered what had become of
-him. They saw a wonderful sight as they sat and talked. From the
-distant woods rose an immense army of flying foxes, not less than four
-or five thousand in number, flying in a straight line to a distant
-pool. When they arrived over the water, they dipped down to drink in
-regular order, keeping their ranks, so that presently they presented
-the shape of a perfect curve. Joshua and Minnie watched the singular
-flight until the last of the animals had satisfied its thirst; shortly
-afterwards the entire flock disappeared. As they retraced their steps
-to the native camp, Joshua observed something unusual lying on the
-ground. It looked like a crouching animal, and Joshua drew Minnie
-aside fearing that it might be a dangerous creature; but it remained
-perfectly still, and Joshua, drawn thereto by an irresistible impulse,
-slowly approached the spot. To his horror he found that it was a human
-creature--dead; and turning the face recognized the Lascar. So! his
-enemy was dead, and this was the end of his animosity. The
-circumstances of the eventful meeting when he had rescued Susan from
-the Lascar's pursuit came to Joshua's mind as he looked upon the dead
-form. "His hate of me would not have lived so long," thought Joshua,
-"if it had not been fed by other means. Whom did he refer to when he
-spoke of his master the day he stole upon me with the stone? But that
-is past discovery now!" The dead man's face was distorted by agony, as
-if he had died in torture, and Joshua looked around for the cause of
-death. There were a variety of trees near the spot--among them some
-stinging trees. Joshua knew the fatal effect of the deadly tree, and
-divined that the Lascar had fallen from one of the higher trees, which
-he must have climbed in search of food, into the poisonous nettles,
-and so been stung to death. He could not have been dead above a few
-hours. Joshua turned away, and told Minnie.
-
-"You will not leave him there unburied, Joshua?" said Minnie.
-
-"No, Minnie, it would not be right. He was our enemy, but there is an
-end to all that now. Sit down on this trunk, my dear, and I will be
-kinder to him in death than he was to me in life." With his knife and
-a stout stick he removed sufficient soil to lay the dead man in; as he
-moved the body, a silver watch fell from a pocket. Joshua picked it
-up, and involuntarily opened it. There was an inscription on the case,
-roughly scratched in, and Joshua read, "From Solomon Fewster to his
-Lascar friend." Joshua's heart beat loudly as he read these words. He
-felt that he was on the eve of a discovery. "They knew each other," he
-thought in amazement; and then, like a flash, it came upon him that
-Solomon Fewster was the master for whom the Lascar said he was
-working. Eagerly he searched the Lascar's pockets for more evidence;
-and found it in the shape of the following document: "To my Lascar
-friend: I give you twenty-five pounds in gold, and a silver watch and
-two knives for services you have rendered me in connection with J. M.
-And I promise you twenty-five pounds more in gold, if; when you return
-in the 'Merry Andrew,' you have accomplished what has been agreed upon
-between us.--S. F."
-
-Joshua read this document twice, and then looked round, as if in
-expectation of meeting Solomon Fewster face to face.
-
-"Let me fix the villain's features in my mind," he thought; "I will
-raise him before me, so that when we meet, in this world or the next,
-I may bring his treachery home to him." With the eyes of his mind he
-saw Solomon Fewster's false face, and he dashed his fist into the air
-with a loud cry. "Fool!" he muttered, recovering himself; "am I
-growing as much a savage as those amongst whom I live? Was it Fewster
-or this villain who stabbed me when I came home?" He looked down, and
-seemed to find his answer. "It was your hand that struck the blow, and
-he employed you. He was too much of a coward to do it himself, and he
-paid you for your services as you have told me. And he wanted to get
-me out of the way, so that he might win the love of my Ellen." A
-bitter smile came to his lips, passed away, and a sweeter expression
-took its place. "To win the love of my Ellen! No, he can never do
-that; she is mine till death, and after it, and is as true to me as I
-am to her. Ellen, dear wife! hear me, and be comforted."
-
-Concealed beneath his covering of fur, was a small bag, made of stout
-skin, well dried, containing Ellen's portrait, her lock of hair, Dan's
-Bible, and the page from Captain Liddle's log-book, appointing him
-captain. Into this bag he put the silver watch and Fewster's document.
-
-"Rest there," he muttered. "When I am dead, chance may direct these
-relics into the hands of my friends. I will write a statement myself
-of certain things, and place it with these. Be merciful, O God! and
-keep firm the faith of my friends."
-
-The appeal was like a prayer, and its utterance soothed him. He laid
-the Lascar's body in the shallow grave, and covered it as well as he
-could with earth and leaves and branches. Then he returned to Minnie,
-and they walked to the camp. He did not tell her of his discovery. It
-would have made her more unhappy.
-
-On another occasion they were sitting together in the woods, in
-silence and resignation. They had sat so for full half an hour, and
-not a word had passed between them; their thoughts were with their
-friends, thousands of miles away. Suddenly there came to their ears
-the tinkle of a bell. They started, and looked at each other in
-wonder. A wild hope entered Joshua's heart. The sound was faint but
-distinct. It was like an evidence of approaching civilization.
-Presently it sounded again, and was followed by other bells of
-different tones, but each note being clearly uttered. Tinkle, tinkle,
-tinkle! till the woods were filled with music. Creeping slowly and
-softly in the direction of the sounds, they discovered the cause. The
-sounds were not produced, as they had hoped, by bells on the necks of
-cattle, but by a congregation of small birds of a greenish-yellow
-color, who, perched upon the branches of trees, in a spot where the
-trees formed a circle, were singing to each other their sweetest
-songs. Disturbed by the approach of footsteps, the birds hid
-themselves among the leaves, and were silent; but Minnie and Joshua
-remained perfectly still, and soon the sweet sounds were heard again,
-and the concert was resumed, to the delight of the hearers.
-
-For many evenings after this Joshua and Minnie came to the spot to
-listen to the melody of the bell-birds. It was on one of these
-evenings that an idea in association with the birds presented itself
-to Joshua. Why should he not employ a little of his idle time in
-training some of the birds with which the beautiful woods abounded, as
-Dan and he used to do in their boyish days? He trembled with delight
-at the thought, and was eager to begin. It seemed to bring him nearer
-to Dan and the beloved ones at home. He told Minnie of his fancy, and
-she encouraged it. He would set about it at once; but first he must
-make a cage. He made one of wickerwork, sufficiently large to hold a
-score of birds; and in a very little while his cage was inhabited by
-birds as beautiful and almost as docile as any he had taught at home.
-
-All this while they were allowed by the natives to do pretty well what
-they pleased. Food was supplied to them regularly, and they were not
-expected to work or hunt for it. Scarcely a night passed without
-Joshua played his accordion in the shade of their hut, and the
-singular fancy which the natives entertained respecting Minnie was
-strengthened by these mysterious melodious sounds. From time to time
-the natives shifted their camp, according to the seasons, and they
-invariably regulated their day's walking by Minnie's strength.
-Uncultured and savage as these ignorant creatures were, they were
-tender and kind to Minnie and Joshua, and showed them a thousand
-little attentions which could only have been prompted by the most
-delicate consideration. Joshua's fancy about the birds was quite a
-natural thing in their eyes. Minnie wanted the birds to talk to; she
-understood the mysterious voices of birds and trees. Their reverence
-for her was increased when they saw her one day with a golden-crowned
-honey-sucker upon her finger. This was one of the first birds which
-Joshua had tamed; he was careful to give it its favorite food,--the
-blossoms of the blue gum-tree when it was in flower, and at all times
-honey and sweet leaves, and had anticipated the effect it would
-produce upon the natives, when they saw it perching contentedly upon
-Minnie's finger.
-
-"See!" said Opara, "the birds know our Star; she talks to them the
-language of the trees. From us they fly, and hide themselves in
-clouds; but she bids them come, and they rest upon her bosom."
-
-Soon other birds were tamed and trained; and the wonder spread to
-distant tribes, who made long journeys to see the Star of Opara's
-tribe, who understood the voice of Nature, and talked with all the
-children of the Great Mother; for so the simple savages interpreted
-it.
-
-But Minnie grew weaker and weaker. She concealed her weakness as much
-as possible from Joshua, who was very tender to her, very, very kind.
-He had quite forgiven her; no cloud disturbed the harmony of their
-strange lives. Bearing always in mind the advice which Rough-and-Ready
-had given them to endeavor to make their way southward, and knowing
-the one great wish of Joshua's heart, she had used all her influence
-with the tribe to induce them every time they shifted their camp to
-move in that direction, and had succeeded so far, that every season
-found them nearer to the settled districts. But, although three years
-had passed, they had not seen the slightest signs of civilization.
-
-Once Joshua was in a terrible state of agitation. He was gathering
-sweet leaves for his birds, when "Crack!" went the sound of a whip. He
-uttered a joyful cry, and threw himself upon the ground with all his
-heart in his ears, for he had not caught the direction of the sound.
-"Crack!" went the whip again. He ran swiftly towards it, and listened
-again. Rough-and-Ready had told him many times to keep his ears sharp
-open for the crack of a whip, and here it was, at last, after weary,
-weary waiting.
-
-"You will find most likely," Rough-and-Ready had said, "that it is a
-stockman looking after some stray cattle. Then you will be all right."
-
-The thoughts that crowded upon Joshua's mind in the few moments that
-elapsed between the cracking of the whip would occupy an hour to
-describe; they may be summarized thus: "That is a stockman's whip.
-Thank God for it! I shall see him presently, and he will wait while I
-fetch Minnie. Then we will go to where his companions are, and I will
-get some presents for our kind friends the natives. Minnie will soon
-grow strong; thank God! We will go down to Sydney, and get passage
-home in the first ship. Then--then--O Ellen, Ellen! O Dan, dear
-friend! dear mother and father! All will come right--all will be set
-right. Thank God!"
-
-"Crack, crack!" Nearer--nearer. He was close to it, but saw nothing.
-He looked round carefully, watchfully. "Crack!" Over his head. He
-turned his eyes to the clouds, and saw a bird--the whip-bird--flying
-over the trees, uttering its "crack!" as it flew, taking his hopes
-with it, and bearing them away to where perhaps he would never meet
-with them again.
-
-
-And Dan is sitting in a wooden hut built near the banks of a beautiful
-river. Seas do not divide him from his friend. They both live on the
-same bit of land, ignorant of each other's whereabouts. The same
-continent holds those two faithful hearts. What is Dan doing? who are
-with him? what kind of a place is this where he and they reside?
-
-A village in which dwell not more than a few hundred inhabitants. Not
-free from care, for care is human; but happier than inhabitants of
-great cities are. There is plenty of work for hands to do; more than
-there are hands to do it. What luxury there is, is the luxury of
-nature--rich fruits, bright flowers, clear atmosphere, sweet air,
-lovely skies, grand sunrises and sunsets, and sparkling watercourses
-whose banks teem with graceful shapes and lovely color. Here a city is
-to be formed, and they who live in it and are content shall see it
-grow up to strength--ay, to manhood--and shall have a share in its
-increasing wealth. First, tents of canvas to live in; now huts of
-wood; by and by houses of stone. But these last, though they be
-stronger, will not bring more enduring happiness. And here is Dan,
-with his birds, as usual. He earns money enough now. Not a hundred
-miles away, in the capital of the colony of which this little village
-is a speck, lives a dealer who comes regularly to Dan's wooden house,
-and buys such birds as he has trained, and pays handsomely for them.
-Not Solomon Fewster. He also is in that rising capital, and Dan will
-not sell him a bird. Not that Solomon Fewster needs them; for he
-is making money fast, and the miserly passion of accumulation is
-growing very strong in him. His business carries him often to Dan's
-village,--twice a month, perhaps; and regularly every two or three
-months he makes some kind of overture to Ellen, who shakes her head,
-and sometimes answers him, and sometimes evades the subject. Dan has
-remonstrated with him, and has begged him never to refer to the
-subject again. But he answers,--
-
-"I cannot help it, Dan. If you knew what love was, you would know that
-a man can no more help loving than he can help feeling. It was love
-that first brought me to your house in Stepney. I didn't want the
-birds; but so that I might have the privilege of coming to the
-house--and of doing you and Ellen a good turn at the same time, mind,
-Dan--I took a deal of trouble to find dealers in birds who would buy
-them of me at the same price I paid you for them; and I shouldn't be
-telling an untruth if I said that I lost money by many of the birds I
-paid you for. One man I sold to failed, and I had to take a
-composition. Well, I didn't know then that Ellen loved Joshua; nothing
-was said between them; and when he first went away he wasn't old
-enough to know his own mind. He came back, and when he was ill I
-didn't show a bad spirit to him. After Ellen and he were engaged, I
-did not desert you; and I didn't annoy Ellen by forcing my attentions
-upon her. You spoke to me once about that unfortunate canary that died
-in my hand when I bade Joshua good-by. You can't think that I killed
-it purposely. But you may be able to form some idea of my feelings
-(which can't always be suppressed, Dan), and of the restraint I had to
-put upon myself when in the presence of the man who had taken from me
-the most precious thing in the world to me--Ellen's love--and you can
-put down the poor canary's death to that cause. I've no need to say
-any thing more. I've loved Ellen all along, and I've always treated
-her with respect and consideration. You mustn't debar me from the
-chance of being happy; Ellen may change her mind one day. It is many
-years now since I first saw her, a girl; and that I am content now to
-wait and hope ought to be sufficient proof of my disinterestedness and
-sincerity."
-
-To such-like pleading Dan finds no reply, and so they go on as usual.
-
-To Dan, as he sits with his birds, comes Ellen with her peaceful sad
-face. She has not found happiness, but she has found peace. Solomon
-Fewster is not her only suitor. Every single man in the village is
-enamoured of her, and would be glad to make her his wife. But she
-tells her story to all with a womanly purpose. She is married, and her
-husband went out as third mate of the "Merry Andrew," and the ship was
-lost and all hands, as it is supposed. But she cannot believe that her
-husband is dead; something tells her that he is alive--living upon
-some uninhabited shore mayhap, and looking forward to the time when,
-by the mercy of God, they shall be together again. Her story is
-repeated from one to another; and some kind souls who have been in the
-colony a few years come to her and Dan with little scraps of
-information concerning the "Merry Andrew," such as the finding of a
-piece of a figure-head which belonged to her husband's ship, and other
-similar evidence, which convince them that the "Merry Andrew" was lost
-off the Australian coast. "Is it not possible," asks Dan, "that some
-of the crew may have been saved, and may be dwelling now on some part
-of the uninhabited Australian coast?" "Quite possible," they answer:
-and they relate such instances as they know of vessels being wrecked,
-and of some of the sailors being saved and found years after they were
-supposed to be lost. Dan and Ellen derive much comfort from these
-narrations.
-
-Ellen's little child Maggie is the pet of the village. At the present
-moment she is playing with her goat in the paddock at the back of the
-house, breathing in health with fresh air. To-night, when she says her
-prayers, she will pray that God will please send her father home--a
-prayer joined in by all of them every night.
-
-Who is this? Susan. In no whit changed. With the same strange watchful
-manner upon her as in the old days in Stepney, but never uttering a
-word concerning Joshua. Sometimes she will go for days without
-speaking to a soul, and a smile never crosses her lips.
-
-And this gentle woman, going about the house quietly, doing her work
-cheerfully, with a sweet smile for every one she comes across, and by
-whose side the little Maggie is content to sit in silence with her
-hands folded in her lap? This is Mrs. Marvel. You would know her if
-you had only seen her once, although her hair is nearly white now; for
-hers is one of the peaceful faces that dwell in your memory and remind
-you of your mother. As for her hair being nearly white--for the matter
-of that, so is Mr. Marvel's. It would not do for him to pay for every
-white hair that is pulled out of his head, as at the commencement of
-this story.
-
-They sit together on this evening, as is their wont, and as they used
-to do in the dear old kitchen in Stepney, and talk of Joshua. And
-George Marvel smokes his pipe, and his wife darns--more slowly than in
-the old days, for her sight is not so strong as it was--and Dan trains
-his birds and reads to his friends. They have been sorely afflicted,
-but faith and love have banished despair.
-
-On this very evening, hundreds of miles away, Joshua is sitting on the
-ground in his gunyah, amusing himself and Minnie with his birds. She
-is reclining on her 'possum-skin rug, looking affectionately and
-gratefully at Joshua, who has grown very wise in the different habits
-and natures of the strange birds he has before him. With what care he
-has collected them! Here is the quaint kingfisher, flitting about as
-contentedly as it used to flit among the dead trees that lie on the
-banks of creeks. Joshua, watching it one day, saw it suddenly dart
-into the water with such eagerness that it was completely submerged;
-he thought it was drowned, but the next instant it appeared above the
-surface with a small fish in its mouth, with which it hopped,
-exultant, into the woodland again. It is a handsome bird, and a
-singular-looking one too, with its beak about a quarter as long as its
-body, and its light crimson breast and azure back and shrewd brown
-eyes. Here is the mountain bee-eater, the wondrous blending of colors
-in whose plumage suggests the fancy that its feathers must have been
-dyed in the glorious sunsets of the South, and that it first saw the
-light when rainbows were shining. Here are the honeysuckers,
-yellow-eared, blue-cheeked, and golden-crowned; and the
-crimson-throated manakin, with its pleasant song; and the spotted
-finch, with red eyes; and the scarlet-backed warbler and the pretty
-thrush, black-crowned and orange-breasted, whose piping in the early
-morning was the cheerfullest of all the birds; and the yellow-rumped
-fly-catcher, fussing about, and chattering like a magpie. All these
-are here, and many others; and Joshua often thinks how delighted Dan
-would be with them. Joshua and Minnie are clothed completely in fur
-garments; all their civilized clothes are gone. Joshua's hair has
-grown so, that his face is quite covered with it.
-
-"Would they know me at home, Minnie, if they could see me as I am?" he
-asks.
-
-"I doubt it," she replies; "but they would know your voice."
-
-"Shall we ever see them again?" he asks, more of himself than of her.
-
-She sighs, and does not answer. He may; she prays that he will. But
-she! The breeze sighs with her, as she thinks that she will never
-again look upon the faces of her friends. Well! perhaps it is better
-so. She desires no happier lot than to die in Joshua's arms, with his
-eyes looking kindly upon her. She has been growing weaker and weaker
-every day; she does not complain, but he often regards her with
-apprehensive looks, and prays that she may not be taken from him. They
-live together as brother and sister; the love he bears for her is as
-pure as the love he bears for his mother. He speaks to her often of
-Dan, and she listens with sweet patience. But he does not understand
-that her love for him is part of her very nature, and that it cannot
-be transferred--that it cannot change. He does not understand it, does
-not know it; he deludes himself with the hope that, if it should
-mercifully chance that they should reach home, the dear hope of Dan's
-life may be realized, and that Minnie's love and Dan's belief in her
-purity may brighten the days of his friend. She knows that Joshua
-entertains this hope, and does not pain him by telling him how false
-it is.
-
-So the days pass, and the seasons change. In accordance with Minnie's
-wish, the tribe moves farther and farther southward, and is rewarded
-by finding plenty of game in the woods, and fish in the rivers and
-pools. Summer dies, and the beautiful autumn brings strength to
-Minnie; but the succeeding winter strikes her down. Her savage friends
-and worshippers are grieved to the heart at her weakness, and she,
-true to her purpose and to Joshua, makes them understand that health
-and strength for her lie southward, and urges them on towards the
-settled districts.
-
-"If we are saved," says Joshua, "I shall owe all my happiness to you,
-Minnie. Once you gave me life; now perhaps you will give me what is
-better than life."
-
-A look of content rests in her eyes as he says this, and she muses
-upon it for days afterwards, murmuring the words to herself before she
-falls asleep. Speaking to her of her father at one time, he is
-surprised to hear her say, "Father is dead, Joshua."
-
-"How do you know?" he asks, startled.
-
-"I feel it--here," pressing her hand to her heart; "I have dreamt that
-I saw him and mother together. Some things come to us intuitively; we
-do not need to be told."
-
-"Do you know any thing else about those at home?" he asks, half awed
-by her solemn tone.
-
-"No; but one other thing I know that I ought not to keep from you."
-
-He waits in silence for what is to come, dreading to speak. She takes
-his hand; hers is hot with fever.
-
-"Do not think me unkind," she says, "but for many weeks I have felt
-impelled to tell you, and now that the time is drawing near, I must no
-longer keep it from you. Can you guess what it is, my dear?"
-
-"O Minnie! Minnie!" he cries, falling on his knees at her feet; "do
-not tell me that you are going to leave me!"
-
-"I cannot help it, dear," she says, tenderly. "Before the spring dies
-I shall leave you. I shall spend my summer in another world." She
-repeats the words, as though they conveyed to her some deeper meaning
-than they implied. "Yes, I shall spend my summer in another world. My
-heart has been wintered in this."
-
-He strives to reason her out of her belief,--tells her that it is
-fancy; but she gently checks him, with "Nay, dear Joshua. 'Tis but a
-little time to spring. Let us talk of other things."
-
-Soon the buds begin to come, and the leaves grow green. Minnie hides
-her weakness, says that she feels stronger, and Joshua begins to hope.
-But he does not know what motive she has in this; he does not know
-that she puts on an appearance of strength, so that she may not retard
-their course southward. In many of their marches she sustains her
-fainting heart by strength, of love. "Nearer, nearer," she whispers to
-herself; "he shall owe all his happiness to me."
-
-Come there to the camp one day some members of another tribe, who
-speak of having seen men of the color of Joshua and Minnie a couple of
-hundred miles to the south, mounted on strange animals. These
-aboriginal wanderers, indeed, are at variance with one another: some
-say that men and animals are one; others, that they are distinct
-creatures. Opara tells Joshua and Minnie, who are able by this time to
-understand the native tongue, and to make themselves understood.
-
-"What Opara says is good," says Minnie. "We will go towards these men.
-They are our brothers. They will give me back my strength."
-
-Opara being gone, Minnie asks Joshua what he thinks. Joshua, with
-eager voice and sparkling eyes, cries that they are stockmen on
-horses, as Rough-and-Ready had told them.
-
-"All will yet be well," he says, his voice trembling with joyful
-emotion; "in a few months perhaps we shall be among white people
-again."
-
-She listens in silence: and presently, in accordance with their
-nightly custom, he takes his accordion from its bag of fur, and plays
-the sweetest airs he knows. "Poor Tom Bowling" and "Bread-and-cheese
-and Kisses" are his principal themes; and as he plays, the
-newly-inspired hope stirs into life his dearest memories, and brings
-before him those pictures of his boyish days that he most loves to
-dwell upon.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XL.
-FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.
-
-
-The river runs onward like a sparkling stream, now rushing between
-high banks of forest land, dotted here and there with miniature
-islands of rocks covered with lichens and shrubs, now settling into a
-still-looking reach, its surface covered with delicate mauve-colored
-water-lilies. Near to a great grove of palms upon the river's bank the
-native camp is fixed; and not far from the spot the channel forms a
-descent, more steep than abrupt, where it is cut up into hundreds of
-brawling streams by islands of beautiful shrubs. The natives have
-pitched their camp here, in accordance with Minnie's wish; they have
-been marching southward for more than a week, and Minnie has borne up
-bravely; but her strength has failed her at last, and she is compelled
-to succumb. It is understood among them that their Star is sick, and,
-the mintapas (doctors) are anxious to practise their healing arts upon
-her, but their efforts are firmly and gently repulsed by Joshua. For
-this, they look upon him with no friendly eye, and but for Opara his
-life among them would not be so pleasant as it has been. He pays no
-heed to them; his anxiety concerning Minnie engrosses all his thoughts
-now.
-
-She is sinking fast, and has grown so weak that he is obliged to carry
-her about. The spot she most loves is where the river is still and
-quiet; there she will lie for hours, with Joshua by her side, watching
-the shifting shadows of the clouds in the water's depths. She says but
-little; but every time her eyes turn to Joshua, they are filled with
-gratitude and love. Once she expressed a desire to write something,
-and Joshua makes a little ink with paint and gum-juice, and makes a
-pen from a duck's quill; but paper he has none.
-
-"Your Bible," says Minnie.
-
-He gives it to her, and she writes a few lines on the blank page at
-the end. Then she tears out the leaf, and folding it carefully says,
-"This is for Dan, when you see him" (having a full faith that Joshua
-and Dan will meet); "do not read it, but place it carefully by."
-
-He puts it with Ellen's lock of hair in the bag he wears round his
-neck.
-
-That same night a change comes over Minnie. He has been away from the
-hut for a few minutes, and when he returns he sees her sitting in a
-listening attitude with her hand to her ear.
-
-"Minnie!" he exclaims; but she holds up a warning finger, and says,--
-
-"Hush, Joshua! I am listening to the singing of the sea. Is it not
-sweet?"
-
-His heart beats rapidly, and he takes her disengaged hand in his, and
-asks her what she has in the hand she is holding to her ear.
-
-"It is a shell," she says. She shows it to him and her face assumes
-the exact childlike expression of pleasure and simplicity it wore in
-the farewell interview he had with her before he first went to sea.
-
-"You know me, Minnie?" he says, distressed.
-
-"Yes, dear Joshua! What a question! But you must not be angry with me.
-I took the shell--but I took it for you."
-
-"Nay but, Minnie," he says, striving to arrest her wandering thoughts;
-"listen to me"--
-
-"Call me little Minnie," she pleads like a child, in the softest of
-voices.
-
-"Little Minnie!" he sighs, with an almost broken heart.
-
-"Little Minnie! Little Minnie!" she repeats. "The shell is singing it.
-Hush!" She remains silent for some time after this, and Joshua deems
-it best not to disturb her. An hour may have passed when she calls to
-him.
-
-"Say that again, Joshua," she says. Wondering, he asks her what it is
-she wishes him to repeat.
-
-"Nay," she answers, "that is to tease me. But you must say it after
-me, word for word: 'What you did, you did through love, and there
-could not be much wrong in it.'" He recognizes his own words to her,
-and in a troubled voice he repeats, "What you did, you did through
-love, and there could not be much wrong in it."
-
-"I am satisfied," she says; "you have made me happy. I shall try to
-sleep now."
-
-He covers her with a rug, and watches by her side during the night.
-
-He has no heart for his birds, and were it not that she takes a
-childish delight in them, and is glad to have them around her, he
-would have taken them to the woods and set them free. She does not
-recover consciousness of her true position; she believes that she and
-Joshua are children together, and--it may be happily--all the horrors
-through which she has passed have faded from her mind. Her great
-delight is to play with the birds and listen to her shell. Sometimes
-the fancy that he is at sea possesses her, and she talks to him of
-himself, as she used to talk to Dan, and coaxes him to tell her the
-story of the death of Golden Cloud and other incidents of his boyish
-life. In this condition she remains for many days, until the time
-comes when she awakes from a deep sleep, and says, in her weak voice,
-"I have been dreaming, Joshua. I thought we were children again." Then
-opening her hand with the shell in it, looks at it, blushing, and
-says, "It is the old shell, Joshua. You remember."
-
-"Do you feel stronger, Minnie?"
-
-"No, dear; I shall not grow stronger. It will be as I told you a
-little while ago. Spring is not gone yet; but it will be soon. Have
-they asked about me?" meaning the natives.
-
-"Yes, many times every day, Minnie; and have brought their choicest
-food for you regularly."
-
-"They have been very kind to us. Rough-and-Ready was not quite right
-about them. I used to tremble with fear when he spoke of them. Poor
-Rough-and-Ready and poor Tom! What has become of them, I wonder!"
-
-They muse sadly over the memory of those two good friends.
-
-"Some lives are very hard, Joshua," she continues. "His was, I am
-sure. I suppose it was as he said, and that he has done bad things.
-Yet how kind and gentle he was to us! It is hard to reconcile; but it
-seems to me, my dear, that our lots are shaped for us. We can't help
-our feelings; we don't make them; they come, and we must act as they
-prompt us to act. Opara and the savages now: they couldn't help being
-born savages, and they have had no good teaching. Don't think me
-wicked for what I am going to say, my dear."
-
-"No, Minnie; go on."
-
-"Well, I can't help believing that a good deal of what is called wrong
-is not wrong, and that bad is not always bad. I can't explain exactly
-what I mean, but I feel it." She appears to think that she has got out
-of her depth, and suddenly changes the subject. "Take me out, and let
-me see Opara. You must carry me; I am not as heavy as I was."
-
-He lifts her in his arms, and carries her, with her arm round his
-neck, out of the hut towards the savages. They crowd round her, and
-she speaks a few words to them, and smiles upon them. Then, by easy
-stages, he carries her to her favorite spot by the river's side, and
-there they rest.
-
-"All rivers have currents, Joshua?"
-
-"Yes, my dear."
-
-"Even this, that looks so still and quiet?"
-
-"Even this, my dear; the current is running, although you cannot see
-it. But remember, the river is not so still everywhere. A very few
-miles away it is full of life; it is rushing over the rocks, and is
-never still for an instant day and night."
-
-"Strange! So restless there, so quiet here! It has been so with me: so
-restless there, so quiet here! Look! we can see the fish in the clear
-depths. How beautifully the wild jasmine smells!"
-
-He gathers a little for her, and a bunch of fringed violets, and she
-puts them in her breast. Then she encourages him to talk of home, and
-listens with sincere pleasure to his praises of Dan.
-
-"It is good to be loved by such a heart," she muses.
-
-"Ah, Minnie!" he ventures to say, "if it could have been with him as
-he once hoped it would!"
-
-"About me?" she replies unhesitatingly. "Does not that seem to be a
-proof that our lots are shaped for us? Tell him that I was very, very
-sorry, and that I begged him to forgive me."
-
-But it is chiefly about Joshua's mother that she speaks, and wishes
-that her mother had lived. In the midst of the conversation she falls
-into a light slumber, and opening her eyes half an hour afterwards,
-resumes from the point where they had left off, as if there had been
-no interval of silence.
-
-On another occasion they are together on the same spot, and Joshua is
-telling her of a beautiful part of the river's bank which she had not
-seen. "The river is narrow there, and even more peaceful than this,"
-he says. "The trees on both sides bend over the water until the
-topmost branches almost touch, so that the river is in shade. The sun
-was peeping through the arch of branches, lighting up the water here
-and there, and the golden light streaked the white leaves of the
-lilies, over which the pretty lotus-bird was running with so light a
-step as not to stir the flowers."
-
-"How beautiful!" she says softly. "At night, when the moon is shining
-on the water and the lily-leaves through the arch of branches, how
-grand and peaceful it must be! Joshua, bend your head, my dear. When I
-am gone, let me be buried there. Nay, don't cry; but promise."
-
-In a broken voice he promises her, and she is content. Then she bids
-him bring Opara to her; and the aged chief comes and sits by her side.
-
-"Opara," she says, taking Joshua's hand and kissing it, "this my
-brother and I are one. You understand?"
-
-"I understand," he answers; and Joshua wonders what it is she is about
-to say.
-
-"You see how weak I have grown, Opara. Look at my hand; you can see
-the light through it."
-
-"Say, my daughter," asks Opara: "you who know the language of birds
-and flowers,--you who know the mysteries of the Grand Vault,--can you
-not make yourself strong?"
-
-"No, Opara; I am wanted."
-
-"Cannot our mintapas make you strong?"
-
-"No, Opara; their skill is not for me. Tell them so; and tell them I
-thank them, and will not forget them. Listen. Many moons ago, I walked
-in the woods, where the leaves were singing to each other, and where
-the wind whispered strange things as it travelled through the trees. I
-heard a voice; I listened; and I was told that when the next summer
-came, I should be wanted--There!"
-
-Opara gravely followed the motion of her hand, as it pointed upwards.
-
-"The summer is coming, and I must go. Do not disturb me then; my
-brother will see to me; and tell your young men and women to let me
-rest."
-
-"I will tell them, and they will obey. Will our daughter return to
-us?"
-
-Minnie catches at this question eagerly, and clasps Joshua's hand with
-a firmer clasp.
-
-"I will return, if you will do one thing for me."
-
-"Opara will do it."
-
-"It will take many days to do."
-
-"If it takes many moons to do, it shall be done."
-
-"Opara's name shall be known in the Grand Vault," says Minnie in an
-earnest tone. "Take heed of my words. Those men of the same color as
-my brother, of which you were told some time ago, you have not seen
-them?"
-
-"They are southward. My brother has a message for them from me. He has
-promised to deliver it to them; but he does not know the country. If
-he goes by himself, bad men of other tribes may meet him and take him
-with them. If you and some of your young men will accompany him south
-until he sees the strangers, or is near to them, I will return to you
-by and by, and your tribe shall never want food. The strangers will be
-kind to you, and will give you good things. Will Opara do this, and
-protect my brother?"
-
-"Opara will do this, and will protect your brother."
-
-"Good." She gives the old chief her hand, and he places it on his
-eyes, and departs gravely.
-
-Joshua for a time is too agitated to speak. This last proof of her
-devotion is the crowning sacrifice of her life. She is the first to
-break the silence.
-
-"Joshua, my dear, I have made atonement?"
-
-He can only say, "O my dear, my dear, how unworthy I am in my own
-eyes!"
-
-"Nay, nay," she says soothingly, "you are all that is good and noble.
-A better heart, a purer, never beat. I have committed a great fault,
-and have done you a great wrong--unconsciously, my dear, and without
-thought; and, by the mercy of our Father, I have been able to atone
-for it. Think of me as a child, my dear, who has loved you with all
-her heart, despite her wilfulness. Take me in your arms as you would a
-child, and say that you forgive me."
-
-He takes her in his arms, and, to satisfy her, sobs out the words she
-wishes to hear. Her face is close to his.
-
-"This kiss for Ellen," she whispers; "this for your dear, kind mother;
-this for Dan. Tell all of them of my fancy, that I wish to live in
-their minds, not as a woman, but as a child as a child who erred
-through love, and who had not been taught to understand what duty was.
-Who said this, 'There is no earthly sacrifice that love will not
-sanctify.'"
-
-"Your father!" he whispers, amazed.
-
-"I heard him; I was in the room when he blessed my mother for devoting
-her life to him."
-
-Presently she asks him to fetch his birds, and he runs and brings
-them. He opens cage, and they hop about her contentedly. He gathers
-some wild flowers, and places them by her side. Shortly afterwards she
-directs his attention to the fringed violets, which do not live an
-hour after they are gathered. "They are withering," she says. "Do not
-pluck any more of the pretty things; let them live." He supports her
-in his arms; and she watches the birds with glistening eyes, and
-whispers that they remind her of dear Dan. Then she falls asleep, with
-her face turned to Joshua. He does not disturb her. Every thing around
-is very still and quiet. He thinks of the restless river a few miles
-away, and of Minnie's words, "So restless there, so quiet here! It has
-been so with me." The afternoon passes; the sun is going down, and the
-heavens are filled with wondrous color. Minnie has been asleep for a
-long while now. Shall he arouse her? Her fair face is perfectly still,
-and a smile is on her lips. "Minnie!" he whispers. Her hand is on her
-heart, and in her hand the shell. She does not speak; and a darkness
-comes upon him, and his heart grows cold as he presses his lips to
-hers. She has gone to spend the summer of her life in another world.
-
-
-Opara holds the last words of Minnie sacred. To the expressed desire
-of the doctors of the tribe to inter Minnie according to their rites,
-he says, "Our daughter has spoken, and Opara has promised. Her brother
-will see to her. Let her rest." So, on the following night, Joshua is
-standing alone by Minnie's grave, which he has strewn with wild
-flowers. In the rude coffin of bark, which he has cut and made with
-his own hands, he places also the sweetest-smelling flowers he can
-find. Her shell he leaves in her hand, and cuts a long tress from her
-hair. "For Dan," he murmurs.
-
-He buries her in the place he had described to her, and where she had
-expressed a wish to be laid. It is just such a night as she pictured.
-The moon is streaming through the interlaced branches on the beautiful
-lilies and the peaceful water. He reads prayers from Dan's Bible, and
-falls upon his knees; and, as he sobs there, the words of her father
-recur to inn, and he repeats their sense prayerfully: "She is a wild
-flower; the impulse of her mind is under the control of the impulse of
-her heart. She is oblivious of all else, defiant of all else. Those of
-her friends who have the consciousness of a higher wisdom than she
-possesses, those of them who can recognize that the promptings of such
-a heart as hers may possibly lead her into dangerous paths, must guide
-her gently, tenderly. If any betray her, he will have to answer for it
-at the Judgment-seat!"
-
-"Judge me," he cries aloud, raising his arms to heaven, "and so deal
-with me! This dear angel lies in her grave pure as at her birth. But
-she will speak for me, dear, honored sister!"
-
-In the distance, standing in the shadow of the trees, are the natives,
-their bodies streaked with white. They do not intrude upon Joshua's
-sorrow. Slowly he piles the earth upon the faithful heart, and kisses
-the earth with passionate grief. When he is calmer, he reads his Bible
-by the moon's light; and, as he reads, peace comes to him.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XLI.
-JOSHUA AND THE OLD WIZARD.
-
-
-For two weeks the natives mourned for Minnie. Their grief was sincere,
-notwithstanding that it was expressed in barbarous fashion--such as
-painting their bodies white with pipeclay, and inflicting painful
-gashes upon their breasts and arms with shells and stones. They
-observed Joshua gathering wild flowers to place upon her grave, and
-every day after that, the women and children collected the prettiest
-and rarest flowers they could find, and decorated Minnie's grave with
-them. During this time a terrible feeling of desolation came upon
-Joshua. If Opara failed to keep the promise he had given Minnie, what
-would become of him? He thought of some words Dan had spoken to him in
-one of their boyish conversations, when they were talking of Robinson
-Crusoe. Dan had said he thought it strange that Robinson did not
-forget how to speak his native language, and had wondered that he
-didn't go mad. This remembrance was terrible to Joshua. At night, when
-he was alone in his hut, he would speak to himself, and would tremble
-at his voice; and stopping sometimes with half-uttered words upon his
-tongue, would be seized with sudden terror as at an unfamiliar sound.
-But at the end of a fortnight, Opara came to Joshua, and said, "Our
-days of mourning are over; but the image of our daughter will dwell
-forever in our hearts. To-night we hold a council. Shall we tarry yet
-a while, or shall we prepare to depart?"
-
-"I have a message for my brothers and hers," replied Joshua. "They
-live southward. Is that the direction Opara will take?"
-
-"Opara will do as he has promised," said the old chief with dignity,
-"and will accompany you to the south."
-
-"My sister will be glad if her message is delivered soon;" and
-Joshua's heart beat quickly at the prospect of deliverance.
-
-Opara gravely bent his head; and that night it was decided that twenty
-young men and doctors of the tribe, including Opara, should start in a
-couple of days, with Joshua, for the south. When Joshua was informed
-of this, he went to Minnie's grave, and shed tears of joy, and
-gathered a little of the earth, and placed it in the bag round his
-neck which contained his most precious possessions. On the appointed
-morning they started early, accompanied by the entire tribe; but by
-noon all the stragglers had departed. In a few days their road lay
-through very rough country, where, although fruits and birds were
-plentiful (it being summer), Opara said they would not be able to live
-in the winter. Their great difficulty was to obtain water, for the
-creeks and watercourses were drying up; and Joshua was filled with
-admiration at the resources of the natives, who found water in
-places--digging it out of trees, indeed, very often--were a stranger
-would never have dreamed of searching for it. When Joshua saw them
-strike their stone weapons into a tree whence cold bright water
-flowed, he could not help thinking of Moses striking the rock. A
-favorite food with them was a species of shrubby plant which they
-called Karkalla, and which yielded a rich luscious fruit; and they
-ate, with intense relish, many species of grubs which they cut out of
-the bark of trees.
-
-Among the party was one famous wizard and doctor, who was not disposed
-to look upon Joshua with the same friendly eye as the others did. When
-Minnie was ill, he had been especially desirous of exercising his arts
-upon her, and of restoring her to health, by which means his
-reputation with the tribe would have been enormously increased; and
-when Minnie died, he entertained the belief that he could have saved
-her if he had been allowed. This doctor's name was Nullaboin, and he
-had joined Joshua's escort because he thought that he might, by
-watching Joshua's movements, obtain some kind of knowledge that might
-be useful to him.
-
-During the latter days of Minnie's illness Joshua had not played his
-accordion, which, it must be borne in mind, the natives had never
-seen. Joshua had kept it jealously concealed in its covering of fur,
-and had never played it in sight of the natives. It was at the end of
-the second week of their journey, when Joshua was looking out
-anxiously for traces of white settlers, that a circumstance occurred
-which boded him great danger. He had wandered, as he had been in the
-habit of doing every night, a long distance from where the natives
-pitched their camp. From time to time Opara and his party had met
-natives of different tribes, with whom they had conversed (though
-sometimes with difficulty, for their dialects differed) concerning the
-white men; and on this morning a strange native had given them such
-information as led Opara to tell Joshua that he believed he would soon
-be able to deliver Minnie's message to her brothers. Interpreting by
-this that the stranger they had met had seen something of Englishmen,
-Joshua, in the night, wandered farther from the camp than usual, in
-the vague hope that he might come upon traces of his countrymen. He
-saw none, and yet thought they might be near. An idea struck him. "Why
-should I not play my accordion?" he thought. "I might be within a
-short distance of my deliverers, and not know it. The sound of
-civilized music might reach their ears, and they would come to me." He
-acted upon the thought without delay. For the first time for many
-weeks, he took his accordion from its covering (it was slung round his
-shoulders by a strap of dried skin), and walked through the woods,
-playing, and swinging the instrument in the air, so that the sound
-should travel far. He little dreamed of the effect he produced.
-Nullaboin was tracking him--had tracked him every night in his
-wanderings. Hitherto Nullaboin had learned nothing; but now directly
-the music struck upon his ears, he was so amazed as almost to betray
-himself. The idea that flashed through that cunning savage mind was as
-singular as it was original. It was neither more nor less than that
-Joshua held Minnie's spirit imprisoned in the strange instrument from
-which the melodious sounds proceeded. They were the same as used to
-proceed from Minnie's hut, when it was imagined she was speaking with
-invisible shapes. What wonders might he not perform, could he obtain
-possession of that power! The mysterious spirits of air and heaven
-would speak to him, and would tell him strange things. But how could
-he obtain it--how? Joshua was strong--too strong for him. He was an
-old man--ay, he was an old man, and these spirits, if he could speak
-to them in their language, might teach him how to become young again.
-The courses of his blood quickened through the old wizard's veins at
-the wild hope, and he picked up a stone and cut at his breast in his
-excitement. He could not hope to wrest the magic power from Joshua
-singly. He must enlist his companions on his side. His influence was
-great, but Opara's was greater. He dreaded that aged chief. "If Opara
-knows," was his cunning thought, "Opara will claim it for himself.
-No, no; it is mine Nullaboin's. Here me, Pulyalanna! Strike Opara with
-your thunder to-night! Strike him dead! He has lived long enough." But
-as he thought, he started away in terror. Among the trees some twenty
-yards away, he saw a crouching figure, which he took to be one of the
-fabulous Purkabidnies, that roam through the woods at night to slay
-black men. It was but the charred stump of a tree, but it was
-sufficient to cause Nullaboin, the wizard, to fly from the spot in
-direst terror, towards the camp. He lay awake until Joshua returned,
-and noted with his lynx eyes that Joshua wore the magic instrument
-strapped round his shoulders. The following day he took occasion to
-speak to Joshua in a subtle manner, as thus: "Nullaboin dreamt last
-night of his daughter the Star."
-
-Joshua nodded.
-
-"She spoke to me. Her voice was like the voice of the birds. I shall
-see her soon."
-
-Joshua gave him a startled look.
-
-"Has her brother seen her?"
-
-"No."
-
-"Has she not spoken to him?"
-
-"No."
-
-"Nullaboin is a great mintapa, and his daughter knows his power."
-
-All this was Greek to Joshua, and he did not encourage the old wizard
-to continue his revelations. But during that day and the next,
-Nullaboin was busy working upon the credulous minds of the younger
-natives, and found but little difficulty in inflaming their curiosity.
-Joshua's eagerness had become almost painful by this time; and when
-they were travelling over plains, every speck on the horizon became a
-horseman in his anxious eyes. Occasionally they had to make their way
-through dense scrub, where there were but few trees; but for the most
-part their road lay through the woods, where tall timber was abundant.
-Under any other circumstances, Joshua would have found the life he was
-leading wonderfully interesting, fatiguing as it was. Now they were
-wending their way through a gully, the heights on each side of which
-were so thickly wooded as almost to shut out the light of heaven; now
-they were on a plain somewhat thinly dotted with trees when suddenly a
-young savage would dart off in pursuit of a bee which his wonderful
-sight had detected fifty feet high in the air. Away buzzed the bee
-through the clear air, and, with his eyes fixed upon the tiny insect,
-after it flew the savage joined by other young men of the party, the
-older men following more leisurely. With unerring sight the hunters
-ran until the bee settled upon a tree; and with wondrous speed the
-bee-hunter, seeing the sugar-bags in the topmost branches, climbed the
-trunk, cutting notches in the bark for his toes with his stone
-hatchet, until he reached the sweet store, with which he loaded
-himself, and then rejoined his companions. Now they caught an enormous
-guana, more than five feet in length, upon which the natives feasted;
-and saw strange specimens of the mantis, which looked like rotten
-pieces of dead twigs until they were touched, when they crawled away
-by the aid of their abundant misshapen limbs. Now they came to a place
-where, surrounded by almost impenetrable scrub, in which patches of
-wild bananas grew, were a number of fresh-water lagoons, filled with
-reeds and weeds of every description, and abounding in screeching
-cockatoos and beautifully-colored ducks. While Nullaboin was busy with
-his scheme for obtaining the magic box in which he imagined Minnie's
-spirit was imprisoned, some members of a strange tribe came to the
-party, one of whom, to Joshua's amazement, was singing in imperfect
-English a verse of the ballad, "He promised to buy me a bunch of blue
-ribbons."[1] The singer knew no other words of English: but he
-contrived to make Joshua understand that he had been among white men,
-which, indeed, was sufficiently evident from his singing.
-
-----------
-
-[Footnote 1: A fact.]
-
-----------
-
-
-"Opara," said Joshua, with sparkling eyes, "my brothers are near."
-
-"It is well," was Opara's simple reply. "Opara will have performed his
-promise. When his daughter returns to her tribe, she will thank
-Opara."
-
-But by this time Nullaboin's plans were matured; and that night, when
-Joshua wandered into the woods, his heart filled with grateful
-feelings towards the faithful savages, he was followed stealthily by
-Nullaboin, and a half-a-dozen braves who had joined in his plot.
-
-"At last!" thought Joshua, visions of happiness to come floating
-before his eyes--"at last! Perhaps to-morrow I shall see the faces of
-my countrymen, and then, and then"-- But he could not think clearly;
-for as the images of those dearest to him came before him, the false
-face of Solomon Fewster seemed to cast a shadow upon his happiness. He
-leaned against a silver-leaved gum-tree, and tried to calm himself,
-and in a little while succeeded. Ellen was true to him, he was sure.
-And Dan? "Is he training his birds still?" he thought "How has he
-borne his great grief?" He saw before him the dear old kitchen in
-Stepney, exactly as he had seen it last; every chair and every piece
-of crockery was in its exact place. Every detail of those last few
-minutes at home presented itself clearly to him: his yearning look at
-the old familiar room; his walking up the stairs to the street-door
-with his face hidden in his mother's neck, and she caressing him, as
-she had done when he was a little child. Almost unconsciously he had
-taken out his accordion, and his fingers were wandering over the keys,
-playing softly those airs most in consonance with his thoughts. He
-even murmured the words of "Tom Bowling:"
-
-
- "Here, a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling,
- The darling of our crew."
-
-
-"Dear Old Sailor! How glad I shall be to see his honest face!" And he
-saw the Old Sailor take a wedding-ring out of a piece of silver-paper,
-with a triumphant expression upon his face, as he had done in that
-memorable interview in Gravesend, when--whiz! Good God! what was
-this? The sky seemed to come down upon the earth, and he sank through
-it--down! down!--
-
-
-Nullaboin, snatching the accordion from the falling man, hugged it to
-his naked breast, and glided swiftly away, followed by his
-confederates. They must have traversed full four miles before they
-paused, and then they looked cautiously around, to assure themselves
-that they were alone. The old wizard had kept the instrument tightly
-pressed to his bosom during the flight, so that no sound had proceeded
-from it; but now, when they paused, his grasp relaxed. His hand was on
-the keys: and and as the accordion gradually distended itself, a slow
-wail issued from it, which so terrified him that he let it fall to the
-ground, so that the weak and plaintive sound was followed by a harsh
-and sudden jangle of all the notes. Appalled at this angry cry, which
-was to them full of fearful meaning, the younger savages, with
-palpitating hearts and dismayed faces, flew from the spot, and left
-Nullaboin alone with the terrible prize. He stood like a statue for
-many minutes, although the thick beads of perspiration were rolling
-down his face and beard, and then cautiously approached the prostrate
-mystery. Encouraged by its silence, he stooped over it, and, after his
-savage fashion, entreated it to speak to him. No answer came. What
-should he do? A sudden light came into his eyes. Minnie's spirit was
-imprisoned there, and she was angry. He would release her. He lifted
-the accordion gently from the ground, and timidly pressed his finger
-upon one of the higher keys. The response was gentle, almost piteous;
-it was an appeal to him.
-
-"O Star of the tribe!" he whispered, "Nullaboin will set you free.
-Make him great!"
-
-He took a small green-stone mogo (hatchet) from his girdle, and
-carefully cut a long hole in the cloth. He held his hand over it to
-grasp the spirit; but he saw nothing, heard nothing. He waited;
-nothing came. He took it in his hand, and waved it up and down; no
-sound issued from it. The spirit had fled, and the old wizard was left
-despairing.
-
-
-Joshua felt no pain. A delicious sense of rest was upon him. Of all
-the memories that came to him in his dreams, the happy holiday he had
-spent with Dan and Ellen on the Old Sailor's barge was the most vivid.
-He lived once more through the whole of that happy day--stood in Dan's
-room in his holiday clothes, with food for the birds which were to be
-presented to the Old Sailor--went down to breakfast, and saw Ellen's
-yearning look as they talked of the coming pleasures of the day--saw
-her run out of the room and run in again, almost mad with delight
-because Susan had obtained permission for her to accompany the
-lads--rode in the creaking cart through dingy Whitechapel--saw Dan
-swinging in the hammock and gazing at him affectionately while he was
-rowing--heard every word of the Old Sailor's sea-stories over
-again--sat on the deck in the twilight in a state of delicious
-happiness by Ellen's side, and went down into the saloon, and heard
-the Old Sailor sing, and then Ellen, her favorite song of
-"Bread-and-cheese and Kisses." After that a darkness came upon him,
-and he opened his eyes, and saw the stars shining in the heavens; but
-they were shut out immediately afterwards, and he was standing on the
-deck of the "Merry Andrew" the night the ship struck on the rocks;
-holding Minnie in his arms; the dead faces of his shipmates crowded
-upon him, rising from the cruel sea with the exact expression upon
-their features that they wore when he last saw them; then came his
-encounter with the Lascar in the woods; and that memory brought to him
-the face of Solomon Fewster, which lingered long; but it faded in its
-turn, and gave way to other fancies, the most enduring of which was
-the river near which Minnie was buried, and the refrain of her words,
-"So restless there, so quiet here!" dwelt in his mind through the long
-night.
-
-When he awoke it was daylight. He struggled to his feet, but could
-scarcely stand for weakness. He had been struck by a boomerang on the
-temple, and had lost a great deal of blood. He was so weak and
-bewildered that, even now that he was awake the past incidents of his
-life were strangely mingled in his mind. It was not until after long
-mental pondering and sifting of incidents that the true knowledge of
-his position and of what had occurred to him dawned upon his senses.
-He looked round for his accordion; it was gone. Then he thought,
-"Opara has betrayed me at the last moment. They have stolen my
-accordion, and they have left me here for dead. But they may return at
-any moment to strip me of what I have about me." Weak and faint as he
-was he crawled cautiously towards the most thickly-wooded part of the
-forest, and there concealed himself. "What now?" he thought. "Must I
-wait for death?" For indeed he was too weak to walk. His heart almost
-fainted within him.
-
-"Now, when I was so near to deliverance," he groaned aloud, shedding
-bitter tears, "to be thus dashed back to misery!" But even as he
-uttered the words, he heard the crack of a stockman's whip. Crack! It
-rang through the woods and through his heart. Not the mockery of a
-whip-bird this time! No, no; it was too near; and it was followed by
-the sound of horses' hoofs and by the sound of English voices. Thank
-God! thank God!
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XLII.
-FAITHFUL HEARTS.
-
-
-On a pleasant summer evening Dan and Ellen and George Marvel were
-sitting in the shade of the veranda which surrounded three sides of
-their house. The house was built of wood, and was all on one floor,
-and there was a garden in the front and in the rear. George Marvel was
-smoking his pipe as usual, and having by this time got used to the
-short clays, which were the only ones he could now obtain, had just
-declared that he enjoyed a short pipe as well as a long one; "though I
-couldn't stomach them at first, Dan, as you know." Dan nodded in
-acquiescence; he had no time to reply; for at that moment a great
-shouting was heard, and the mail-cart was seen driving round the
-corner towards them. The arrival of the mail-cart in the village was
-an event of the utmost importance, and was always greeted with cheers
-by the excited population. There was a mail-service once a fortnight,
-and sometimes it would be a day or two behind, which was most
-serviceable to the inhabitants of the village, as giving them
-something to be anxious about and to talk about. The driver (who was
-contractor for the mail, owner of the mail-cart, and driver of it, all
-in one) had one invariable excuse when he was late; he had been
-waiting for the birds. Now, when Dan first heard this, he, without
-knowing its meaning, felt instantly attracted to the driver of the
-mail, whose name was Ramsay; and when he had an explanation from the
-lips of a neighbor to whom Ramsay had given a lift (he was always
-giving kindly "lifts" to one and another), Dan was disposed to be
-affectionately familiar with him. This feeling being reciprocated by
-Ramsay, an intimacy sprung up between them, the consequence of which
-was, that Ramsay, after delivering his mails to the postmaster (a
-rheumatic old woman, deaf, and almost blind), came as regularly as a
-clock to have a smoke and a chat with Dan and the Marvels. A curious
-character was Ramsay; a man who had seen better days--who had, indeed,
-once been very wealthy--who had been plundered and deceived from his
-youth upwards--and who yet retained a kindliness to every living thing
-with which he came in contact. Thus, his waiting for the birds: it was
-whimsical, pretty childish, some said; consisting in stopping
-whichever of his two steady old mares he was driving, immediately he
-saw a bird on the bush track before him. "Get out of my way, little
-bird," he would say in a singularly gentle voice, and he would give
-his whip a flick at the back of his cart, which had not the slightest
-effect in disturbing the little creature that blocked the road. But
-Ramsay could no more drive past it than he could drive through a wire
-fence; and he often found it necessary to descend from his cart, and
-walk softly towards the bird, which, having probably by that time
-finished its pecking, would jerk up its cunning head towards the
-intruder, and leisurely take flight to the nearest tree, where it
-would watch the lazy old mare trotting along and would receive perhaps
-a comical "Good-morning, little bird!" from the gentle-hearted
-mail-contractor.
-
-When Ramsay had delivered his mail to the rheumatic old female
-postmaster, he would look over the letters and newspapers (five
-minutes was long enough to sort the lot of them) to see whether there
-was any thing for Dan and Mr. Marvel. On this evening there was a
-newspaper; and Ramsay, taking possession of it, walked leisurely to
-the house of his friends. Ellen's child, Maggie, saw him, and ran to
-him for a jump in the air, and he stopped to indulge her until he was
-out of breath, when he was glad to deliver her into her mother's
-charge, shaking his head laughingly in answer to her cries for "more!"
-
-"Hi, Mrs. Wattles!" he shouted to a woman who was passing. "There's a
-letter for you at the post-office." Which sent Mrs. Wattles off, in
-eager haste, to receive her missive.
-
-"You're a day late," said Dan, as Ramsay opened the gate.
-
-"Waiting for the birds, Dan; couldn't get along for the creatures.
-Here's a newspaper for you."
-
-The newspaper had an English postage-stamp upon it, and there was
-something marked inside.
-
-"It's from the Old Sailor!" cried Dan, and pressed it to his lips and
-so did Ellen, and all those simple foolish people, in turns, one after
-another. The paragraph that was marked related how a ship, with all
-hands, was reported lost ten years ago, and there was nothing more
-heard of her until a week before the newspaper was printed, when into
-the London Docks came a vessel from China, which had been driven out
-of her course, luckily, and had in consequence picked up six men off
-an island, who had been living there for many years; and how that
-these men belonged to the crew who were supposed to have gone to the
-bottom ten years before. You may imagine that they read this paragraph
-half a dozen times at the least, having Joshua in their minds all the
-time, and that Ellen and Mrs. Marvel disappeared for a few minutes to
-have a cry together. While they were away, the men sat silent and
-grave, Dan reading the newspaper, and George Marvel and Ramsay smoking
-their pipes.
-
-Now, once in every month--that is, by every other mail--Ramsay had to
-deliver a mail-bag at a cattle-station known as Bull's Run. The
-station was between forty and fifty miles distant from the village,
-and Ramsay took two days for the journey, out of a merciful regard for
-his old mare. As he had to start for Bull's Run early in the morning,
-he did not stay late with his friends, but bade them goodnight at
-about nine o'clock. When he was gone, the Old Sailor became the
-subject of conversation, and every circumstance of their intimacy was
-recalled and dwelt upon with loving affection. Every night they sat
-together--Susan as well, although she never joined in the
-conversation--talking of one thing and another. Time had softened
-their grief, but it had not made them less constant; their hearts beat
-as fondly and devotedly for Joshua as ever they had done.
-
-Susan and Mr. and Mrs. Marvel had gone to bed; Ellen and Dan were
-alone. Between these two an undefinable sympathy existed; they could
-almost read each other's thoughts; and this night Ellen lingered when
-the others had retired to rest, because she had read in Dan's face the
-signs of something more than usually important in his mind. For a long
-time they were silent; the stillness of every thing around impressed
-them deeply. The nature of their thoughts and the stillness of the
-night, in which there was something solemn, brought to both of them
-the memory of another night, years ago, when they had sat alone as
-they were sitting now, with Basil Kindred's unopened diary before
-them.
-
-"Ellen," said Dan, playing with her fingers thoughtfully, "I have
-dreamed of Jo lately more often than usual, and to-night my thoughts
-dwell upon him so strongly that I shall not go to bed for a while."
-
-"I will sit up with you, my dear."
-
-The windows in the room were folding windows, and reached to the
-ground. Ellen opened them; and she and Dan were presently sitting
-beneath the veranda, he upon a chair, she upon the ground, with her
-head resting in his lap.
-
-"Do you remember that Christmas night, Ellen, when Jo came home?"
-
-"Yes, Dan."
-
-"And the strange impression I had upon me that Jo was near us,
-although I had no actual knowledge of it?"
-
-"Yes."
-
-"I can see the street as we saw it then, Ellen, with its covering of
-snow, and that cruel black gash in it which the only man who passed
-tore with his feet. It was like an ill-omen. You see nothing to
-disturb the beauty of the scene, Ellen?"
-
-"No; but why do you ask, my dear?"
-
-"Because I have upon me to-night the same feeling that I had then;
-because notwithstanding that it is almost madness to say it and
-believe it, I believe that Jo is near us."
-
-"Dan!"
-
-"To no one else but you would I say this, my dear. Long dwelling upon
-one subject fills the mind with singular thought concerning it, and it
-may be that this feeling that is upon me now is but the creation of
-the wildest fancy. Yet there are strange influences within us and
-around us for which we cannot account, and which affect us in
-mysterious ways. When I first knew that it was Jo's wish to be a
-sailor, and that we should be parted, I tried with all my mind and
-soul--it may be that it was a foolish, childish fancy, Ellen, but I
-had it--to create such a heart sympathy between us that we could never
-be parted in spirit. I had some wild ideas then of being able to dream
-of what he was doing and seeing when he was thousands of miles away
-from our little room in Stepney. Of course they came to nothing; but
-it would be strange indeed, if this earnest striving of mine had not
-produced some feeling within me which time only can test. You remember
-what poor Minnie's father used to say: 'There are more things in
-heaven and earth than is dreamed of in our philosophy.'"
-
-So they sat together talking and musing, and it was past midnight
-before they retired to rest.
-
-Early in the morning, the whimsical mail-contractor was jogging along
-towards Bull's Run; he had to stop so many times for the little birds
-in the road, that his progress was slow; but he had reckoned upon
-these impediments, and he arrived at the station not more than a
-couple of hours after the usual time. That was the end of his journey;
-the following day he had to make his way back to Dan's village. The
-residence of the owner of Bull's-Run station was built of slabs split
-from the bloodwood-tree; the roof was of shingle; and the interior of
-the house was lined with rich dark-red cedar, which gave it quite a
-cosey, comfortable appearance. The workmen's huts were built of
-palm-tree slabs, and the roofs were thatched with strong sword-grass,
-which grew in great profusion on the banks of a river within a few
-miles of the homestead. Ramsay was always welcomed at Bull's Run; the
-men and women on the station--for, primitive as it was, there were
-women and children living on it--used to cluster round him and ask him
-for news from the villages through which he passed, and the smallest
-items were received with thankfulness, and eagerly listened to. On
-this occasion, Ramsay had but little news to tell, and his budget was
-soon exhausted. In return, they told him theirs: one of the bulls had
-torn a man's arm open; a child had been lost for a whole night, and
-all the men were out searching for it miles away, and it was found the
-next morning within half a mile of the hut; three bushrangers,
-splendidly mounted, passed the station last week at full gallop; one
-of the shepherds had come in with a cock-and-a-bull story of gold
-being found somewhere or other; another shepherd had gone mad;
-Yellow-hammer Jack and his wife had had a row; and--but Oh! this was
-the best bit of the lot!--a man had been brought in by two stockmen
-who were looking for lost cattle, and had found him instead; he was
-almost dead, and had been living a long time with the Blacks. He
-seemed a decent kind of fellow, had been a sailor, he said, but was
-strangely silent about himself--for good reasons, some of the
-ill-natured ones said. Any ways, the man was better, although still very
-weak, and intended to start the next morning for Sydney; nothing would
-stop him.
-
-"A long tramp for a weak man," said kind-hearted Ramsay; "if he's a
-decent fellow, I'll give him a lift."
-
-As he said this, there came towards the group, walking very slowly, a
-strange-looking man, with a beard down to his breast, dressed in skins
-and furs; he had a stick in his hand, and seemed to require its
-support. They pointed to him, and said that was the man. Ramsay looked
-at him keenly, and the air of melancholy that rested in the man's eyes
-impressed the mail-contractor with a feeling of pity.
-
-"A sailor, eh?" he thought; "and living with the savages. Wonder what
-he lived with them for?" Then he thought of Dan's and Ellen's anxiety
-concerning strange sailors and castaways, and that perhaps they would
-be glad to see this man. He said nothing, however, but was up the next
-morning early, and saw the man start on his road with slow and painful
-steps. A few minutes afterwards the old mare was harnessed, and its
-tail was turned to Bull's Run. Soon he came up to the man, and as he
-did so, two purple-breasted robins pecking at a bit of honeysuckle
-barred his progress. "Get out of my way, little birds," said the
-mail-driver, pulling up his mare; and he gave a soft flick with his
-whip in a direction where the robins were not. The words reached the
-man's ears, and he turned his head in surprise, and saw the little
-comedy. A gentle, sweet smile rested on his lips, and he looked at the
-mail-driver almost gratefully. Ramsay smiled in return, and again bade
-the little robins get out of his way; and presently they took flight,
-each with a tiny piece of the sweet flower in its beak. Then the old
-mare jogged lazily along, and the strange-looking man gazed wistfully
-after the cart. Ramsay, looking back, saw the wistful expression, and
-stopped at once. "Hi, mate!"
-
-Joshua came slowly forward.
-
-"Where you bound for?"
-
-"Sydney."
-
-"Going to walk all the way?"
-
-"If I can," sighed Joshua; and could not help adding, "and if I don't
-die on the road!"
-
-"Jump up, mate; I can give you a lift for forty miles."
-
-"I have no money," and Joshua turned away, with a sob.
-
-"I don't want your money; I want your company. But how were you going
-to live, if you've no money?"
-
-"I should trust to the Providence that has so wonderfully delivered
-me," thought Joshua, but made no reply aloud; though it could be seen
-in his eyes, which were filled with tears.
-
-"Jump in," said Ramsay, imperatively and kindly, "without another
-word."
-
-And without another word Joshua climbed into the cart.
-
-"I dare say now," said Ramsay in the course of conversation, as the
-old mare trotted steadily on the road, "that you wonder what made me
-so anxious for your company. Well, I'll tell you. In the village where
-I shall put up to-morrow afternoon, and which is forty odd miles on
-the road to Sydney, live some people I'm very fond of, who had a
-sailor friend that they've not heard of for a long while."
-
-"Ah!" sighed Joshua; "I know, what their feeling must be. Did they
-love him?"
-
-"Love him! Well, you shall see for yourself; if, in return for the
-lift I am giving you, you won't mind talking to them a bit."
-
-"I shall be glad to; it may remind me of my own friends."
-
-"Where are your friends?--Now, Dozy!" this to the old mare, who had
-stopped suddenly short; "what d'ye stop for? The sense of the
-creature!" he added proudly, pointing, to a bird some yards in front
-of them. "Get out of my way, little bird!"
-
-"When I first heard you say that," said Joshua, "I was sure you had a
-kind heart."
-
-"Fond of birds yourself, mate?"
-
-"Very, very fond. The tenderest remembrances of my life are connected
-with them."
-
-Ramsay cast a sharp glance at the half-savage.
-
-"Been long among the Blacks, mate? or isn't the story true?"
-
-"It's true enough. Long among them? Ay--years, but I don't know how
-long."
-
-Joshua, indeed, had lost count of time.
-
-"From choice?"
-
-"No; but I've told my story to no one yet. It would scarcely be
-believed. But tell me about your friends and the sailor."
-
-"There's a mother there, that lost a son when she lost her
-sailor"--Joshua pressed his fingers to his face, and sobbed
-convulsively at the thought of his own dear mother, who had lost a son
-when she lost her sailor; and the mail-driver felt a choking in his
-throat, and had to wait a few moments before he could proceed. "And a
-father that lost a son at the same time. And a wife that lost a
-husband. And a friend that lost a friend. And a little child that can
-hardly be said to have lost a father, for she never saw her father's
-face."
-
-"Merciful God!"
-
-"What's the matter, mate?"
-
-For Joshua was trembling--like a child; and great sobs came from his
-chest--like a man.
-
-"You remind me--you remind me," sobbed Joshua. "Don't think me
-unmanly, don't think me mad. I have been sorely, sorely tried!"
-
-Whereat Ramsay stopped the mare, and got out of the cart, and went
-into the bush to look for birds. He must have had a great difficulty
-in finding them, he was away so long; and the old mare stood perfectly
-still and contented the while, twitching her tail to knock off the
-flies, which was the only spirited action she was ever known to be
-guilty of. When they were jogging along again, they did not speak a
-word for a full hour, and then it was Joshua who spoke first, taking
-up the thread where it had been dropped.
-
-"The child who has never seen her father--a girl then?"
-
-"Yes, mate."
-
-"How was it that she had never seen him?"
-
-"Married her mother; went away to sea, and never heard of since."
-
-"How old is the child?"
-
-"Five years, I should say."
-
-"If you knew," said Joshua in a slow trembling voice, "what a chord
-you have touched in my heart, you would pity me. Forgive me for my
-strange manner, and answer me. The mother who has lost a son; describe
-her."
-
-"An angel. I'm not good at picking faces to pieces; but when I look at
-her, she reminds me of my own mother, dead and gone this many a year.
-Never thinks of herself; always putting herself out for other
-people--bless her old face! And yet she's not so old, although her
-hair is nearly white--that's from grief."
-
-"The father who lost a son?"
-
-"A fine fellow; a little self-willed and obstinate; a wood-turner."
-
-A long, long silence. The mail-driver did not break it, nor did he
-intrude upon his companion's thoughts. "Twit-twit-twit!" came from the
-throats of some diamond sparrows, which were flitting among the
-gum-tree branches and a flock of scarlet lowry parrots floated
-through the bush that lined the road on either side, their
-wonderfully-gorgeous plumage lighting up the dark trees with brilliant
-light.
-
-"The wife that lost a husband, and the friend that lost a friend?"
-
-"Treasures both; brother and sister."
-
-"One other question--where do they come from?"
-
-"London. I don't know what part."
-
-A mist floated before Joshua's eyes, and he remained like one in a
-dream during the afternoon--wondering, hoping, fearing. When they were
-near to the village the following afternoon, Joshua said,--
-
-"It may be that you have rendered me one of the greatest services that
-a man can possibly render another. If it be as I scarcely dare to
-hope, we shall know each other for long after this. Complete the
-service by doing one little thing more. Drive past the house where
-your friends live and point it out to me, so that I may descend and
-walk to it alone when we are at the end of your journey."
-
-Ramsay nodded. It was about five o'clock when the mail-cart rattled
-into the village. The contractor for the mails always made a great
-clatter when he came in, as if he had been driving for his life--a
-fiction which, although no one believed in, he thought it desirable to
-keep up. "It looks government-like," he said.
-
-
-Solomon Fewster is in the garden at the rear of the house, pleading
-his suit to Ellen for the twentieth time. She stands silent until he
-has finished a rhapsody, in which love and money are strangely
-commingled.
-
-"Think of the time I have waited, Ellen," he says; "think of the
-constancy of my affection, and of the position I can offer you.
-I am making money fast, and only wait for you to say yes, to buy a
-house for us, which in three years will be worth three times what
-they ask for it. What is the use of your wasting your life in this
-out-of-the-way village when all the attractions of a city-life are
-open to you? Come now, give me your hand, and reward the man who has
-been your constant friend and lover, and who can make you rich."
-
-But Ellen is insensible to the splendor of the offer; indeed, she is
-weary of it and him, and she tells him so spiritedly, and yet cannot
-repulse him. At length she says,--
-
-"Mr. Fewster, there must be an end to this. I shall never, never marry
-again; and even if I did," she adds, to put a stop to what has become
-persecution, "I should not choose you;" and leaves him with this arrow
-in his heart.
-
-He stands amazed. Not choose him! Why, a thousand girls would jump at
-him. Not here perhaps, for womankind was a scarce commodity; but at
-home, or anywhere where girls were more plentiful. Not choose him! He
-follows her into the house, wounded and mortified, and into Dan's
-room, where Mr. Marvel and Dan are at work. Mr. Marvel has all his
-tools, and does a great deal of wood-turning--having, indeed, more
-than he can do--and is putting by money. He scarcely looks up as
-Solomon Fewster walks in, somewhat defiantly; and as no one speaks to
-him, an awkward silence ensues upon his entrance; broken by Mr.
-Marvel, who, noticing Ellen's flushed face, observes,--
-
-"Been teasing Ellen again, Mr. Fewster?"
-
-"Teasing her, indeed!" exclaims Solomon Fewster loftily; "honoring
-her, I should say."
-
-The flush upon Ellen's face deepens at this, and she casts such a look
-of aversion at Mr. Fewster that all the blood rushes into _his_ face,
-and he says some injudicious words about ingratitude, and about what
-one might expect if one condescended to lower himself as he had done.
-
-Upon this George Marvel starts to his feet in a great heat, and
-exclaims,--
-
-"What do you mean by ingratitude, and by lowering yourself, Mr.
-Fewster? What gratitude do we owe you?"
-
-"Ask Dan," says Mr. Fewster,--"ask Dan who it was bought his birds to
-keep you when you were starving, and when no one else would look upon
-you. But it serves me right for noticing you and helping you, instead
-of treating you as all your neighbors did. I ought to have known what
-return I might expect."
-
-"And I dare say you got your return," says George Marvel, "when you
-sold Dan's birds at a good profit. As for Dan selling his birds to
-keep us from starving, that was no business of yours, so long as you
-got value for your money. That is a matter between Dan and me; and
-Dan's satisfied with the way that account stands, or I'm mistaken in
-him." Dan presses George Marvel's hand. "Thank you, Dan. Now, as to
-lowering yourself, Mr. Fewster. Do you mean to tell me that you would
-be lowering yourself if Ellen here was free to marry you, and would
-accept you? You mean-spirited dog! I'm a good deal older than you are;
-but if you were not in my house, I would thrash you for speaking as
-you have done, as I've thrashed others in Stepney when they let loose
-their lying tongues at us. Get out of the place, and never set foot in
-it again!" Attracted by the loud voices, Susan and Mrs. Marvel, with
-Ellen's child, have come into the room; and Mrs. Marvel now goes to
-her husband's side and lays her hand upon his arm. "Nay, Maggie--let
-be; I'm not going to hurt him; I wouldn't lay a finger upon him here;
-and I don't want to anywhere else; only, don't let him cross me if he
-says a word against us out of this house.--Dan!" he cries, "do you
-want to see Mr. Fewster here again?"
-
-"No, sir; I think it will be best if Mr. Fewster will keep away from
-us."
-
-"And you, Ellen? what do you say?
-
-"I never wish to see him again. For the sake of what is past, I would
-have been content to see him, if he would have ceased from persecuting
-me; but after what he has said to you, I hope he will leave us in
-peace."
-
-"You hear," exclaims George Marvel; "we are happy enough without you.
-Go, and never darken this door again!"
-
-Solomon Fewster looks round, almost savagely; his face is white with
-passion, and all the vindictiveness of his bad nature comes into play.
-
-"You are happy enough without me!" he sneers, with his knuckles to his
-mouth.
-
-"Don't make too sure of that. I have been your friend hitherto. What
-if I now make myself your enemy? What if, when I go from this house, I
-spread about _my_ version of your reason for leaving London? What if I
-tell your neighbors here of the real character of your sailor-hero,
-and how, because of his villainy, all your friends turned their backs
-upon you"--
-
-But he has no time to say more; for the door, which has been partly
-open, swings on its hinges, and Joshua enters.
-
-Not one of them recognizes him. In his strange garb, with his fur-cap
-pulled over his eyes, and with his face covered with hair, no trace of
-Joshua is discernible; and yet they look at him spell-bound, waiting
-for him to speak. He gazes at the forms of all the dear ones and
-grasps the back of a chair to steady himself. He takes them all in at
-a glance, and sees in one brief moment the changes in them that time
-has made. His mother's white hair; the deepened wrinkles in his
-father's face; Ellen more matronly than she was, but fair and pleasant
-to look at as when she was a girl; Susan, like an old woman; Dan grown
-a little stouter, and with the same dear boyish light in his eyes and
-on his face--but the child, clinging to Ellen's apron and looking at
-him wonderingly with Ellen's eyes and his!--
-
-He had thought, before he entered, that he would be strong, but he has
-no more control over himself for a few moments than a straw in a
-fierce wind. Then muttering, "Justice first!" he turns upon Solomon
-Fewster a glance of hate and scorn, and grasps him by the shoulder
-with so powerful a grasp, that Fewster writhes with pain.
-
-"I heard your last words," he says.
-
-But directly he speaks, a thrill runs through them, and they are
-running towards him with outstretched arms, when he cries,--
-
-"Stand off! By what strange chance I find you, I can scarcely imagine.
-But do not come nearer to me for a little while, or I shall fall dead
-at your feet!"
-
-Awe-struck and trembling they obey him.
-
-"I would not touch one of your dear hands till you have heard me and
-judged me, though death were the penalty for depriving myself of the
-joy! I would not receive one kiss from your honored lips upon my cheek
-till you have heard me and judged me, though I were sure that my
-tongue would be paralyzed in the utterance of what I have to say! Some
-part of your sufferings, some part of your pain, I know from my own
-suffering and pain, and I will clear myself before your eyes, so help
-me Thou! or go forever from my sight!"
-
-Susan is running to him with cries of "Justice! justice!" and is about
-to throw herself upon him, when George Marvel's arm restrains and
-keeps her back. "Be still, madwoman!" he mutters sternly, and stands
-by her side, watchful of her, and no less watchful and attentive of
-every word that falls from his son's lips.
-
-Joshua takes the cap from his head, and lets it fall to the ground,
-still keeping his strong grasp upon Solomon Fewster, whose cowardly
-blood grows thin as he writhes and listens.
-
-"Justice!" echoes Joshua. "You shall have it, and so shall this base
-dog, whose presence pollutes the air I breathe. Listen well. Of
-another matter that we must speak of presently, and which is near and
-dear to all our hearts, I will say nothing before him. But in the
-'Merry Andrew' in which I sailed from Gravesend, and which is now at
-the bottom of the sea, with many dear brave souls that were aboard
-her, was a villanous sailor--a Lascar, from whose hands I once rescued
-the woman who calls for justice, and who struck me down on that
-dreadful Christmas-eve when I first came home from sea. He shrinks and
-trembles beneath my grasp, this false friend, of whose bad heart I
-warned my brother Dan before the 'Merry Andrew' sailed. At one time
-during the voyage, when we were in danger, there was an attempt at
-mutiny, and this Lascar was one of the cowardly wretches who
-endeavored to spread dissatisfaction. When we were in dread peril,
-this Lascar sailor and a mutinous mate, whom we had to put in irons,
-strove hard to injure me and the captain--Heaven rest his soul--and,
-happily, failed. The ship was wrecked, and we had to abandon her, and
-take to a raft which we had made; and on that raft we suffered more
-than six weeks hunger and thirst, and every species of misery. Out of
-the entire crew and passengers only seven were saved, among them being
-myself and this Lascar sailor and his confederate, the mutinous mate.
-Before the captain died, he appointed me to succeed in the command,
-and I have the record from the log-book about me now. We got ashore.
-How we lived, you shall hear from me by and by; but once the Lascar
-(whom we suspected of having killed his confederate) stole upon me,
-and but that I turned my head in time, I should not be here now to
-expose the villainy of this cowardly wretch. Foiled in his devilish
-design, he told me then that he had been set to trap me, and was paid
-for it. Some time after that, I found the Lascar dead in the forest;
-and before I buried him--not wishing to leave a human creature
-however vile, to be eaten by birds and beasts--I obtained evidence
-which proved to me that the wretch who writhes now within my grasp was
-the master who paid him to ruin, and perhaps to murder me."
-
-"A clever lie," Solomon Fewster manages to say, though he is shaking
-from terror.
-
-"A lie! have the proofs. Be thankful that I have met you here among
-those who are all that the world holds dear for ma. If I had met you
-in the forest, in the midst of such scenes as I have witnessed lately,
-I would not have answered for your life."
-
-Joshua hurls Solomon Fewster from him with such force that he falls,
-almost stunned, in the corner of the room. Then Joshua takes from his
-neck the bag containing; his relics, and selects from them the silver
-watch and the document which Fewster had given the Lascar, and after
-reading aloud the document and the inscription on the watch, lays them
-upon the table.
-
-"Here are the proofs of your crime and your villainy," he says to
-Fewster. "Be thankful if you are allowed to escape punishment. Go and
-go quickly, and without a word!" He stands aside to let the man pass;
-and Solomon Fewster, without a word or a look to any one there, passes
-out of the room, and out of the village. And is never seen in it
-again.
-
-When they are alone, Joshua turns to Susan, and, in a softer voice,
-says,--
-
-"Susan, you cried for justice. Upon me!"
-
-"Yes, upon you. Where is Minnie? What have you done with Minnie?"
-
-The big tears roll down Joshua's beard at the mention of her name.
-
-"You think I took her away?"
-
-"You know you did."
-
-"Then truly, if all of you believe as Susan believes, my life is
-darker than the darkest night." With upraised hand he checks them,
-from speaking; but he sees in their faces what gives him precious
-comfort. "When I went away from Gravesend," he says in a soft and
-gentle voice, "I had no knowledge that Minnie was aboard. When we got
-to Sydney I did not know it. My duties occupied all my time. We sailed
-from Sydney, and I was still in ignorance. But on the night the 'Merry
-Andrew' struck on the rocks I heard her voice for the first time. I
-suppose she thought that we were lost, and in her agony she made
-herself known to me; but I did not see her--the night was too dark.
-When I saw her the next day, I saw to my amazement that she had
-stained her face, and that her hair was not so long as she used to
-wear it. We were together on the raft. We were together on the shore.
-She was one of the seven who were saved. We lived together like
-brother and sister. When the savages discovered us, they had a strange
-fancy respecting her, and she obtained great influence over them. She
-used all her influence to protect me, and but for her I should have
-lived and died where the tribe we fell amongst chiefly wandered--in
-the north, many hundreds of miles from here." He takes from his bag
-Ellen's portrait, the lock of her hair he had cut before he left
-Gravesend, and Dan's Bible. He places these on one side. "What is
-left, Dan, is yours. This tress, cut not many weeks ago; this paper,
-which she desired me to give you, and which I have never read; this
-earth, which I gathered from her grave Before she died, she sent you
-all her dearest love, and a kiss for mother, Dan, and Ellen. She died
-pure as she had lived, dear, faithful, mistaken heart! As I hope for
-redemption, I speak the truth. If you believe me, take me to your
-hearts again, and let me live in them as I know I once lived!"
-
-As he once lived! as he had always lived! They cluster round him, and
-kiss him, and sob over him. Had he not been saved from the deep--ay,
-and from greater perils--to comfort them? And they put his little
-daughter in his arms, who asks, hearing that he was her father, "Has
-God sent my father back? God is very good."
-
-O good faithful mother! can this great bearded man be your son? Not
-often can such a cluster of loving hearts be seen--faithful to each
-other, believing in each other's goodness and purity, in face of
-terrible adverse circumstance. Their faithfulness is a proof of their
-own worth. To the pure all things are pure. But hush! for Minnie's
-last words; Dan is reading them aloud.
-
-
-"I have learned, too late, the consequences of my fault. But I, and I
-alone, am to blame. No one knew it; no one suspected it; no one aided
-me in it. I am writing this upon a page of Dan's Bible, and it seems
-to me like an oath. I cannot live long. I am dying. But a long-life's
-devotion could not repay Joshua's brotherly care. All good angels
-guard him and you! If Joshua is preserved to give you this--and I
-believe he will be--think, while you read it, that my spirit is near;
-and forgive me, dear Dan and Ellen. My love to you both, and to good
-Mrs. Marvel and Joshua's father; and to Susan, who must have no bad
-thoughts of Joshua. God bless you, and send you happiness!
-
- "Minnie."
-
-
-Dan and Joshua sit talking together until late in the night. Ellen and
-Mr. and Mrs. Marvel are sitting up also, but in another part of the
-house. They know that Dan wants to speak to Joshua of Minnie, and they
-leave the friends undisturbed.
-
-What is said to each other by the two faithful friends cannot be
-written here; but it may be easily understood by those who have read
-these pages. Joshua tells Dan as much as time will allow of his and
-Minnie's lives, and is tender and indignant in turns, as Dan relates
-to him the history of the family in Stepney after the sailing of the
-"Merry Andrew." Be sure that the Old Sailor is not forgotten. I650f
-tender speech and loving thought are worth any thing, the Old Sailor
-is rich indeed.
-
-Their eyes are wet with tears, and their hands are in each other's
-clasp. Joshua has just finished his relation of Minnie's death, and of
-her words about the river--"So restless there, so quiet here!"--when a
-knock comes at the door and Ellen enters. He takes her in his arms,
-and they sit, the three of them, and talk in a state of wondering
-happiness.
-
-Another knock at the door.--Mr. and Mrs. Marvel. The magnetism of love
-has drawn them all together.
-
-"It reminds me of the night before you first went to see, Jo," says
-Dan. "Do you remember? The knocks at the door one after another."
-
-
-"Josh," said George Marvel to his son, a fortnight afterwards, "what
-are you going to do?"
-
-"What do you mean, daddy?" asked Joshua in return.
-
-"What do I mean? Well, you don't want to go to sea again?"
-
-"No, I shouldn't like to leave Ellen and Dan and all of you again."
-
-"Well, then, what are you going to do? You must do something."
-
-Mrs. Marvel sat silent, and smiled a little smile, but very slyly, so
-that no one should see it.
-
-"You can get plenty of work as a wood-turner, daddy?"
-
-"Yes, Josh, a good deal more than I can do--and well paid for it too."
-
-"Well, daddy, I think"--
-
-"Yes, Josh, you think"--
-
-"I think I'll learn wood-turning, if you'll teach me."
-
-Whereupon George Marvel, after the slightest amount of hesitation,
-rose and kissed his wife.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Joshua Marvel, by B. L. Farjeon
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-<html>
-<head>
-<title>Joshua Marvel</title>
-<meta name="Author" content="B. L. Farjeon">
-
-<meta name="Publisher" content="Harper &amp; Brothers">
-<meta name="Date" content="1872">
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-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Joshua Marvel, by B. L. Farjeon
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: Joshua Marvel
-
-Author: B. L. Farjeon
-
-Release Date: November 12, 2016 [EBook #53509]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOSHUA MARVEL ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by
-Google Books (the University of California)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Notes:<br>
-1. Page scan source: Google Books<br>
-https://books.google.com/books?id=yZ4pAQAAIAAJ<br>
-(the University of California)<br>
-2. [=e] indicates a macron over &quot;e&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h3>JOSHUA MARVEL.</h3>
-<br>
-
-<h5>BY</h5>
-
-<h4>B. L. FARJEON,</h4>
-
-<h5>AUTHOR OF &quot;GRIF.&quot;</h5>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>NEW YORK:<br>
-<span style="font-size:smaller">HARPER &amp; BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,<br>
-<span style="font-size:smaller">FRANKLIN SQUARE.</span></span><br>
-1872.</h4>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h3>JOSHUA MARVEL.</h3>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER I.</h4>
-
-<h5>CONCERNING CERTAIN FAMILY CONVERSATIONS AND THEIR RESULT.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">In the parish of Stepney, in the county of Middlesex, there
-lived,
-amidst the hundreds of thousands of human bees who throng that
-overcrowded locality, a family composed of four persons--mother,
-father, and two children, boy and girl--who owned the surprising name
-of Marvel. They had lived in their hive for goodness knows how many
-years. The father's father had lived there and died there; the father
-had been married from there; and the children had been born there. The
-bees in the locality, who elbowed each other and trod upon each
-other's toes, were poor and common bees, and did not make much honey.
-Some of them made just enough to live upon; and a good many of them,
-now and then, ran a little short. The consequence was, that they could
-not store any honey for a rainy day, and were compelled to labor and
-toil right through the year, in cold weather and in warm weather, in
-sunshine and in rain. In which respect they were worse off than other
-bees we know of that work in the summer and make themselves cosey in
-the winter.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The bees in the neighborhood being common and poor, it was natural
-that the neighborhood itself should partake of the character of its
-inhabitants. But, common and poor as it was, it was not too common nor
-too poor for love to dwell in it. Love did reside there; not only in
-the hive of the Marvels, but in hundreds of other hives, tenanted by
-the humblest of humble bees.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">George Marvel had married for love; and, lest the reader should
-suppose that the contract was one-sided, it may be as well to mention
-that George Marvel's wife had also married for love. They fell in love
-in the way, and they married in the usual way; and, happy and
-satisfied with each other, they did not mar their enjoyment of the
-then present by thinking of the sharp stones which, from the very
-circumstances of their position, were pretty sure to dot the road of
-their future lives. There are many such simple couples in the world
-who believe that the future is carpeted with velvet grass, with the
-sun always shining upon it, and who find themselves all too soon
-stumbling over a dark and rocky thoroughfare.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was not long before the Marvels came to the end of <i>their</i> little
-bit of carpet sunshine; yet, when they got upon the stones, they
-contrived by industry and management to keep their feet. George Marvel
-was a wood-turner by trade, and earned on an average about thirty-two
-shillings a week. What with a little new furniture now and then, and a
-little harmless enjoyment now and then, and a few articles of
-necessary clothing now and then, and the usual breakfasts, dinners,
-and teas, with a little bit of supper now and then, the thirty-two
-shillings a week were pretty well and pretty fully employed. So well
-and so fully were those weekly shillings employed, that it was often a
-very puzzling matter to solve that problem which millions of human
-atoms are studying at this present moment, and which consists in
-endeavoring to make both ends meet. That they did contrive, however,
-to make both ends meet (not, of course, without the tugging and
-stretching always employed in the process), was satisfactorily
-demonstrated by the fact that the family, were respected and esteemed
-by their neighbors, and that they owed no man a shilling. Not even the
-baker; for they sent for their loaves, and paid for them across the
-counter. By that they almost always received an extra piece to make up
-weight; and such extra pieces are of importance in a family. Not even
-the butcher; for Mrs. Marvel did her own marketing, and found it far
-cheaper to select her own joints, which you may be sure never had too
-much bone in them. Not even the cat's-meat man; for the farthing a day
-laid out with that tradesman was faithfully paid in presence of the
-carroty-haired cat (who ever heard of a cat with auburn hair?) who sat
-the while with eager appetite, looking with hungry eyes at the skewer
-upon which hung her modicum of the flesh of horse.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mrs. Marvel was a pale but not sad woman, who had no ambition in life
-worthy of being called one, save the ambition of making both ends
-meet, and of being able, although Stepney was not liable to floods, to
-keep the heads of her family above water. But, because Mrs. Marvel had
-no ambition, that was no reason why Mr. Marvel should not have any.
-Not that he could have defined precisely what it was if he had been
-asked; but that the constant difficulties which cropped up in the
-constant attempt to solve the problem (which has something perpetual
-in its nature) of making both ends meet, made him fretful. This
-fretfulness had found vent in speech day after day for many years; so
-that Joshua Marvel, the wood-turner's heir, had from his infancy
-upwards been in the habit of hearing what a miserable thing it was to
-be poor, and what a miserable thing it was to be cooped up, as George
-Marvel expressed it, and what a miserable thing it was to live until
-one's hair turned gray without ever having had a start in the world.
-It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that Joshua Marvel had
-gathered slowly in his mind the determination not to be a wood-turner
-all his life, but to start in the world for himself, and try to be
-something better; never for one moment thinking there was the most
-remote possibility of his ever being any thing worse. When, in the
-course of certain family discussions and conversations, this
-determination became known, it did not receive discouragement from the
-head of the family, although the tender-hearted mother cried by the
-hour together, and could not for the life of her see why Joshua should
-not be satisfied to do as his father had done before him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And what is that, mother?&quot; Mr. Marvel would ask. &quot;What have I done
-before him? I've been wood-turning all my life before him--that's what
-I've been doing; and I shall go on wood-turning, I suppose, till my
-dying day, when I can't wood-turn any more. Why, it might be yesterday
-that I started as a boy to learn wood-turning. The first day I used
-the lathe I dreamed that I had cut my thumb off; and I woke up with a
-curious sensation in my jaw which has haunted me ever since like a
-ghost. That was before I knew you, mother. And now it is to-day, and
-I'm wood-turning still; and--How many white hairs did you pull out of
-my head last night, Sarah?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Fourteen,&quot; replied Sarah; &quot;and you owe me a farthing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Fourteen,&quot; said Mr. Marvel, quietly repudiating the liability, which
-arose from an existing arrangement that Sarah should have a farthing
-for every dozen white hairs she pulled out of his head; &quot;and next week
-it will be forty, perhaps; and the week after four hundred.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;White hairs will come, father,&quot; said Mrs. Marvel; &quot;we must all get
-'em when we're old enough.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I'm not old enough,&quot; grumbled Mr. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And I don't see, father,&quot; continued Mrs. Marvel, &quot;what the fourteen
-white hairs Sarah pulled out of your head has to do with Joshua.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Of course <i>you</i> don't see, mother,&quot; said, Mr. Marvel, who had a
-contempt for a woman's argument; &quot;you're not supposed to see, being a
-woman; but I <i>do</i> see; and what I say is, wood-turning brings on white
-hairs quicker than any thing else.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Grandfather was a wood-turner,&quot; remarked Mrs. Marvel, &quot;and he didn't
-have white hairs until he was quite old.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, he was lucky--that's all I can say; but, for all that, Josh
-isn't going to be a wood-turner, unless he's set his mind upon it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I won't be a wood-turner, father,&quot; said Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All right, Josh,&quot; said Mr. Marvel; &quot;you sha'n't.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">From this it will be seen that the voice maternal was weak and
-impotent when opposed to the voice paternal. But Mrs. Marvel, although
-by no means a strong-minded woman, had a will of her own, and a quiet
-unobtrusive way of working which often achieved a victory without
-inflicting humiliation. She did not like the idea of her boy leading
-an idle life; she had an intuitive conviction that Joshua would come
-to no good if he had nothing to do. She argued the matter with her
-good man, and never introduced the subject at an improper time. The
-consequence was, that her first moves were crowned with success.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If Joshua won't be a wood-turner, father &quot;--she said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Which he won't,&quot; asserted her husband.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Which he won't, as you say,&quot; Mrs. Marvel replied, like a sensible
-woman. &quot;If he won't be a wood-turner, he must be something. Now he
-must be something, father--mustn't he?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">This being spoken in the form of a question, left the decision with
-Mr. Marvel; and he said, as if the remark originated with himself,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; he must be something.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And with that admission Mrs. Marvel rested content for a little while;
-but not for long. She soon returned to the attack; and asked her
-husband what Joshua should be. Now this puzzled Mr. Marvel; and he
-could not see any way out of the difficulty, except by remarking that
-the boy would make up his mind one of these fine days. But &quot;these fine
-days&quot;--in which people, especially boys, make up their minds--are
-remarkably like angels' visits; and the calendar of our lives often
-comes to an end without one of them being marked upon the record. To
-all outward appearance, this was likely to be the case with Joshua;
-and the task of making up his mind seemed to be so tardy in its
-accomplishment, that George Marvel himself began to grow perplexed as
-to the future groove of his son and heir; for Joshua kept himself
-mentally very much to himself. Vague wishes and desires he had; but
-they had not yet shaped themselves in his mind--which was most likely
-the reason why they had not found expression.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Meanwhile Mrs. Marvel was not idle. She saw her husband's perplexity,
-and rejoiced at it. Her great desire was to see Joshua settled down to
-a trade, whether it were wood-turning or any other. Wood-turning she
-would have preferred; but, failing that, some other trade which would
-fix him at home; for with that keen perception which mothers only
-possess with regard to their children--a perception which springs from
-the maternal intellect alone, and which is born of a mother's watchful
-anxious love--she felt that her son's desires, unknown even to
-himself, might possibly lead him to be a wanderer from her world, the
-parish of Stepney, in which she was content to live and die. In that
-beehive she had been born; in that beehive she had experienced calm
-happiness and wholesome trouble; and in that beehive she wished to
-close her eyes; and to see her children's faces smiling upon her, when
-her time came to say good-by to the world of which she knew so little.
-With all a woman's cunning, with all a woman's love, she devoted
-herself to the task of weaning the mind of her favorite child from the
-restless aspirations which might drive him from her side.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Until Joshua makes up his mind what he is going to be, father,&quot; she
-said one night at candle-time, &quot;it's a pity he should remain idle.
-Idleness isn't a good thing for a boy.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Idleness isn't a good thing for boy or man,&quot; said Mr. Marvel,
-converting his wife's remark into an original expression of opinion by
-the addition of the last two words. &quot;But I don't see what we are to
-do, mother.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Suppose I get him a situation--as an errand-boy, perhaps--until he
-makes up his mind.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I'm agreeable,&quot; said Mr. Marvel, &quot;if Josh is.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Josh was not agreeable. Many a fruitless journey did Mrs. Marvel
-make, trudging here and trudging there; and many an application did
-she answer in person to written announcements in shop-windows of
-&quot;Errand-boy wanted.&quot; Joshua would not accept any of the situations she
-obtained for him. She got him one at a watchmaker's; no, he would not
-go to a watchmaker's: at a saddler's; no, he would not go to a
-saddler's; at a bootmaker's, at a tailor's; no, nor that, nor that.
-Still she persevered, appearing to gain fresh courage from every
-rebuff. As for Joshua, he was beginning to grow wearied of her
-assiduity. He was resolved not to go to any trade, but being of a very
-affectionate nature he desired to please his mother, and at the same
-time to convince her that it was of no use for her to worry him any
-longer. So he set her, what he considered to be an impossible task: he
-told her that he was determined not to go anywhere except to a
-printing office. He felt assured that she would never be able to get
-him within the sacred precincts of such an establishment. And even if
-she did, there was something more noble, something more distinguished
-and grander, in printing than in bootmaking, or tailoring, or
-watchmaking, or wood-turning. There was a fascinating mystery about
-it; he had seen watchmakers and tailors, and cobblers working, but he
-had never seen the inside of a printing-office. Neither had any of his
-boy-friends. He had been told, too, that there was an act of
-parliament which allowed printers to wear swords in the streets. That
-was a fine thing. How all the neighbors would stare when they saw him
-walking through the narrow streets of Stepney with sword at his side!
-Joshua had some sense of humor; and he chuckled to himself at the
-impossible task he had set his mother.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He was therefore considerably astonished one day, when Mrs. Marvel
-told him she had obtained a situation for him as errand-boy in a
-newspaper-office. Did ever a woman fail, except from physical or
-mental prostration, in the accomplishment of a certain thing upon
-which she has set her mind? And if, in working for the accomplishment
-of the desired result, she brings to her aid an unselfish, unwearying
-love, <i>then</i> did ever a woman fail? At all events Mrs. Marvel did not.
-After much labor, fortune befriended her; and she heard that an
-errand-boy was wanted at a certain printing-office where a weekly
-newspaper was printed. Thither she hurried, and soon found herself in
-a small dark office, in which the master sat.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He treated her in the most off-hand manner. Yes, he wanted an
-errand-boy. Was he sharp, intelligent, willing? Oh, her son! Very
-well. Let him come to-morrow. Wages, four shillings a week. Time, from
-eight to eight. An hour to dinner, half an hour to tea. Good-morning.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Thus the matter was settled, and Joshua engaged. Mrs. Marvel went home
-rejoicing.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With fear and trembling, a little pleased and a good deal dismayed,
-Joshua made his way the next morning to the printing-office. Groping
-along a dark passage he came to a door on which the word &quot;Office&quot; was
-dimly discernible. The freshness of youthful paint had departed from
-the word; the letters were faded, and they appeared to be waiting to
-be quite rubbed out with a kind of jaded resignation. In response to
-the sharply-uttered &quot;Come in!&quot; Joshua opened the door, and entered the
-room. The person he saw before him had such a dissipated appearance,
-that any stranger would have been warranted in coming to the
-conclusion that he had not been in bed for a fortnight. The room was
-full of papers, very dusty and very dirty; and looked as if, from the
-day it was built, it had not found time to wash itself. Scarcely
-raising his eyes from a long slip of paper, upon which he was making a
-number of complicated marks, the occupant of the room said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It's of no use bothering me. I sha'n't have any copy ready for half
-an hour. Hallo! Who are you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The new errand-boy, sir,&quot; said Joshua, humbly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, very well! Take this proof up stairs and sweep the
-composing-room; then come down and clean the street-door plate. Cut
-along! Look sharp!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Looking as sharp as he could, Joshua walked up stairs, and found
-himself in the composing-room of the establishment. A number of men
-and boys, decorated with aprons with large bibs, were playing a
-mysterious game with hundreds and thousands of small pieces of lead,
-which they clicked with marvellous rapidity, but without any apparent
-meaning, against an instrument they held in their hands. He looked in
-vain for the swords which he had heard printers were allowed to wear,
-and he was covered with confusion at finding himself in the midst of
-so large an assemblage, who one and all appeared as if they were
-playing on a number of pianos without any tune in them. Going up to a
-youth whose head, covered with a profusion of red hair, looked as if
-it were in a blaze, Joshua asked to whom he should give the proof. &quot;To
-Snooks,&quot; was the prompt reply. For which piece of information he
-received a slap on the side of his head from some person in authority;
-who taking the proof from Joshua, directed him to sweep up the room.
-While performing this task he surveyed the scene before him. There
-were sixteen men and four boys at work. All the men had the same
-dissipated look that he had observed upon the countenance of the
-master. Their faces, otherwise, were very clean; but the tips of the
-right-hand fore-finger and thumb of each were black with dirt, caused
-by the types which they picked up with those extremities from the
-boxes before them. Not a word was spoken, except what appeared to have
-reference to the business, and the conversation proceeded somewhat in
-this wise. One of the workmen, walking to a slab of iron placed in the
-middle of the room, took therefrom a sheet of manuscript, and looking
-at it negligently, shouted,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Number three!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Another voice at the end of the room cried out,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Awful Collision!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua stopped in the midst of his sweeping, and waited for the shock.
-But as none came, he proceeded with his work, and thought that the
-second speaker was crazy. In the mean time the dialogue continued.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Speaker number one: &quot;End a break.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Speaker number two: &quot;All right,&quot; with a growl.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Speaker number one: &quot;What type?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Speaker number two, with another growl: &quot;Minion.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At the word &quot;minion,&quot; which Joshua considered was a term expressive of
-any thing but respect, he expected speaker number one would walk up to
-speaker number two, and punch his head. Instead of which the insulted
-individual went into his corner again, and re-commenced playing his
-tuneless piano in the meekest possible manner. The overseer then going
-to a part of the room where long rows of type were placed in detached
-pieces, asked,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How long will this Dreadful Suicide be before it's finished?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Done in five minutes, sir,&quot; was the reply, in a cheerful voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who's on the Inquest?&quot; asked the overseer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Be quick and get it finished; you've been long enough over it. Now,
-then, how long is this Chancery Court to remain open?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Close it up in two minutes, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And Joshua gazed with a kind of wonder at the individual who spoke, as
-if it were as easy to close the Court of Chancery as to close his
-hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was the day on which the paper was sent to press; the publishing
-hour was three o'clock in the afternoon; and as the work was
-behindhand, everybody was very busy. In the centre of the room was a
-large iron slab, and at one time the hammering and beating on this
-slab were terrific. Two, or three excited individuals, with mallets
-and iron sticks in their hands, advanced towards the type, which was
-laid upon the slab, with the apparent intention of smashing it to
-pieces. They commenced to do this with such extraordinary earnestness,
-that Joshua was on the point of rushing down stairs to the master to
-inform him that his property was being wantonly destroyed; but as the
-other workmen appeared to regard the proceeding as quite a matter of
-course, Joshua checked himself and thought it would perhaps be as well
-for him to say nothing about it. The overseer also continued to issue
-his strange orders; and during a slight cessation in the hammering, he
-peremptorily ordered the workman to &quot;lock up that Escaped Lunatic, and
-be quick about it.&quot; At another time he gave directions to lay the
-Female in Disguise on the stone (meaning the iron slab), to unlock the
-Old Bailey, and to correct the Chancellor's Budget. Joshua grew
-perfectly bewildered. The information that there was an Escaped
-Lunatic in the room did not so much astonish as alarm him; but as to
-the Female in Disguise he could not identify her, and he waited in
-amazement to see what disguise she wore and where she would be brought
-from; at the same time entertaining the idea that to lay any female
-upon a stone was a decidedly improper proceeding. While in this state
-of mental perplexity, the overseer cried out,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, then, who has the Female in Disguise in hand?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have, sir,&quot; a voice replied.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Bring it here, then,&quot; ordered the overseer, &quot;and finish the
-corrections on the stone.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All right, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua started and looked round to catch a sight of the female; in his
-agitation he stumbled against a workman who held a column of type in
-his arms. The type fell to the ground, and was smashed into thousands
-of pieces. In an instant the whole office was in confusion.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You've done it this time, youngster,&quot; the workman said in dismay,
-looking at the scattered type on the floor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua did not exactly know what it was he <i>had</i> done, but felt that
-it must be something very bad. He soon received practical proof of the
-extent of the mischief, for the master, rushing into the room, kicked
-him down stairs and told him to go about his business. Which Joshua
-did in a state of much bewilderment.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Thus all the good intentions of Mrs. Marvel were frustrated. Joshua
-declared he would not take another situation, and his father sided
-with him and encouraged him. It must be confessed that Mr. Marvel
-continued to have his perplexities about Joshua's career, but to have
-openly admitted them would have been handing the victory to his wife.
-So he kept them to himself, and thus maintained his supremacy as
-master of the house. Many of his neighbors were henpecked, and he used
-to laugh at them. It would not have done to have given them the chance
-to laugh at him. Therefore, as time progressed, Mrs. Marvel's protests
-were less and less frequently made, and Joshua's determination not to
-be a wood-turner gathering strength month after month, it soon came to
-be recognized as quite a settled thing that he was to start in life
-for himself, and was not to do as his father had done before him.
-Pending his decision, Joshua continued to lead an idle life. But he
-was by no means viciously inclined; and much of his time was spent in
-the cultivation of two innocent amusements, both of which served him
-in good stead in the singular future which was in store for him. One
-of these amusements was a passion for music. He knew nothing of
-musical notation, and played entirely by ear; yet he managed to
-extract sweet melody from a second-hand accordion, of which, after
-long and patient saving of half pence and pence, he had become the
-happy purchaser. The other of his tastes grew out of a boyish love.
-How he acquired it will be recounted in the following chapters.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER II.</h4>
-
-<h5>SHOWING HOW A PASSION FOR PUNCH AND JUDY<br>
-MAY LEAD TO DISASTROUS CONSEQUENCES.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">There are few boys in the world who are without their
-boy-friends whom
-they worship, or by whom they are worshipped, with a love far
-surpassing in its unselfishness the love of maturer years. The memory
-of times that are gone is too often blurred by waves of sorrowful
-circumstance. Our lives are like old pictures; the canvas grows
-wrinkled, and the accumulated dust of years lies heavy upon figures
-that once were bright and fair. But neither dust nor wrinkles can
-obliterate the memory of the love we bore to the boy-friend with whom
-we used to wander in fields that were greener, beneath skies that were
-bluer, than fields and skies are now.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Cannot you and I remember the time when we used to stroll into the
-country with our boy-friend, and, with arms thrown lovingly around
-each other's neck, indulge in day-dreams not the less sweet because
-they were never to be realized? And how, when we had built our
-castles, and were looking at them in the clouds, with our hearts
-filled with joyful fancies, we wandered in silence down the shady
-lane, sweet with the scent of the flowering May that shut us out from
-view on either side; and across the field with its luxuriant grass up
-to our ankles with everywhere the daisy peeping out to watch us as we
-passed; and over the heath where the golden gorse was blushing with
-joy; and down the narrow path to the well which shrunk from public
-observation at the bottom of a flight of cool stone steps, hewn out by
-the monks of a cloister which should have been hard by, but wasn't,
-having been destroyed in a bloody battle which took place once upon a
-time?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Not many such experiences as these did Joshua and his boy-friend
-enjoy; for our Damon's Pythias, whose proper name was Daniel Taylor,
-was lame, with both his legs so badly broken that, had he lived unto
-the age of Methuselah and been fed upon the fat of the land, those
-props of his body would have been as useless to him all through his
-long life as if they had been blades of the tenderest grass.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Taylors had three children: Susan, Ellen, and Daniel Ellen and
-Daniel were twins, and when they were born Susan was ten years old.
-The worldly circumstances of the Taylors were no better than those of
-their neighbors; indeed, if any thing, they were a little worse than
-those of many around them. The parents, therefore, could not afford to
-keep a nurse-girl, and it was fortunate for them that they had
-provided one in the person of their elder daughter, and had allowed
-her to grow to a suitable age before they ventured to bring other
-children into the world. Fortunate as it was for the parents, it was
-most unfortunate for Daniel; for before he and his other half were
-born, Susan Taylor had contracted a passion almost insane in its
-intensity, to which her only brother was doomed to be a victim. That
-passion was a love for the British drama, as represented in Punch and
-Judy. All Susan's ambitions and yearnings were centred in the show;
-and it was not to be supposed that she would allow so small a matter
-as twins to interfere with her absorbing passion. How the liking for
-Punch and Judy had grown with her years and strengthened with her
-strength, it is not necessary here to trace. The fact remains, and is
-sufficient for the tragedy of poor Daniel's life. Squeezed to their
-sister's breast, Daniel and Ellen were condemned to take long journeys
-after Punch and Judy, and to be nursed at street-corners by a girl who
-had eyes and mind for nothing but the <i>dramatis personæ</i> of that
-time-honored play. In her scrambles after the show she often wandered
-a long way from home, and tore her dress, and jammed her bonnet, and
-mudded her stockings, and knocked her boots out at the toes, and got
-herself generally into a disreputable condition. But in presence of
-the glories of Punch and Judy, which were to her ever fresh and ever
-bright, such discomforts sank into absolute insignificance. All paltry
-considerations were forgotten in the absorbing interest with which she
-watched the extraordinary career of the hero of the drama. She was
-insensible to the cuffs and remarks of the acting-manager who went
-round for contributions, which the on-lookers were solicited to drop
-into a tin plate or a greasy cap. He naturally resented Susan's
-presence at the exhibition, for she had never been known to contribute
-the smallest piece of copper towards the expenses. But neither his
-cuffs nor his resentful language had any effect upon Susan, who, in
-her utter disregard of all adverse circumstances, proved herself to be
-an ardent and conscientious admirer of the British drama. As a
-consequence of her peregrinations, she often found herself in strange
-neighborhoods, and did not know her way home. The anxiety she caused
-her mother, who was naturally proud of her twins, almost maddened that
-poor woman. She used to run about the neighborhood of Stepney,
-wringing her hands and declaring that her twins were kidnapped. At
-first the neighbors were in the habit of sympathizing with her, and of
-making anxious inquiries of one another concerning the children; but
-when, after some months of such uneventful excitement, they found that
-Susan and her twins were always brought home in good condition as
-regarded their limbs--although in a very disgraceful condition as
-regarded their personal appearance: but dirt counted for nothing in
-such a case of excited expectation--their ardor cooled, and they
-withheld their sympathy from the distressed mother. Indeed, they
-looked upon themselves in the light of injured individuals, because
-something really calamitous had not happened to the children. At
-length Susan became such a nuisance--not only at home, but at
-many police-stations, where she was popularly known as &quot;that dirty
-girl again, with the twins&quot;--that the mother was recommended to
-lock her up. Despairing of being able to cure her daughter of her
-Punch-and-Judy mania by any other means, the mother locked her up with
-her infant charges in a room on the first floor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That was a sad thing for poor Daniel. Susan very naturally sulked at
-being locked up, and at being deprived of her favorite amusement. Life
-had no joy for her without Punch and Judy. With Punch and Judy,
-existence was blissful; without Punch and Judy, existence was a blank.
-Regarding the twins as the cause of her imprisonment, she vented her
-spleen upon the unfortunate couple, and was spiteful enough to leave
-traces of yellow soap in their eyes when she washed them; and when
-they cried because of the smart, and rubbed their eyelids with their
-little fists to get rid of the unwelcome particles, she smacked them
-on the tenderest parts of their persons, and made them cry the more.
-But they were not destined to endure this kind of torture for more
-than a couple of days.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">On the third day of their imprisonment, Susan was sitting moodily on
-the floor, sulking as usual, and biting her lips and fretting, when
-suddenly the well-beloved &quot;too-to-too-a-too&quot; of the Punch-and-Judy
-showman came floating through the window. Wild with delight, she
-snatched up the twins, and, rushing to the window, bent her body
-forward, and looked out. Yes; there it was--there was the show
-Preparations were being made for the drama; the green curtain was
-down, the crowd was collecting, and the acting manager was already
-taking a critical survey of the persons who loitered, and was mentally
-marking down those who would not be allowed to stroll or slink away
-without being solicited for a fee. The front of the stage was not
-turned towards the window out of which Susan was looking; and she
-could only see part of the show. That was a terrible disappointment to
-her; and her suffering was really very great when she found that the
-gallows upon which Punch was to be hanged was erected just in that
-corner of the stage of which she could not obtain a glimpse. She
-stamped her foot upon the floor excitedly; and, bending her body still
-more forward in her eagerness, poor Daniel slipped out of her arms on
-to the pavement. For a moment Susan was so bewildered that she could
-not realize what had occurred: but, when she heard the sharp cry of
-agony to which Daniel gave utterance, and when she saw the crowd of
-people rushing with frightened faces towards the spot where the little
-fellow was lying, she ran into a corner of the room with the other
-child in her arms, and throwing her frock over her head, cowered down
-with her face to the wall, and began to cry. But little notice was
-taken of her. Daniel was picked up and carried into the house. He was
-not killed; but his two legs were badly broken, and were destined
-never to be of any use to him. So, as he had to depend upon artificial
-legs for support, Daniel began to learn the use of crutches almost
-before he had begun to learn to toddle.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The love that existed between Joshua and Daniel sprang out of an
-innocent flirtation which was indulged in by Joshua Marvel and Ellen
-Taylor. The amatory youngsters exchanged vows when they were quite
-little things, and pledged themselves not to marry any one else: &quot;no,
-not for the wide, wide world!&quot; Innocent kisses, broken pieces of
-crockery with which they played at dinners and shops on back-window
-sills, and the building of grottoes when the oyster-season came round,
-were the material bonds which united the youthful loves of Joshua and
-Ellen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In due time Joshua was introduced to the family; not exactly as the
-accepted suitor of the little damsel, but in a surreptitious sneaking
-manner, which older suitors would have considered undignified. Such a
-mean position did he for sometime occupy in the house of his
-affianced, that on several occasions when Mr. Taylor came home drunk,
-Joshua was locked up in the coal-cellar, lest he should meet the eye
-of the tipsy parent, who, when he was in his cups, did not possess the
-most amiable disposition in the world. From that coal-cellar Joshua
-would emerge low-spirited and grimy, and in a despondent mood; but
-sundry marks of affection from Ellen, the effects of which were
-afterwards visible in black patches on her nose and cheeks and cherry
-lips, invariably restored him to cheerfulness. Such a courtship was
-not dignified; but Joshua and Ellen were perfectly satisfied; and so
-was Dan, who thoroughly approved of his twin-sister's choice of a
-sweetheart.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As the children grew in years, the ties that united Ellen and Joshua
-were weakened; while those that united the boys were strengthened,
-until a very perfect and unselfish love was established between them.
-Both the lads were in the same condition as regarded their time.
-Joshua had his on his hands because he had not made up his mind what
-he was going to be; and Daniel had his on his hands because he had
-broken his legs. Each had his particular fancy. Joshua's was music;
-Dan's was birds.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Condemned to a sedentary life from the nature of his affliction, and
-not able to run about as other boys did--for when his sister had let
-him fall from her arms out of the window the breaking of his legs was
-not the only injury he had received--Dan turned his attention to a
-couple of canaries which were part of his parents' household gods. In
-course of time the birds grew to be very fond of him; and he trained
-them to do such pretty tricks, and was himself of so gentle and
-amiable a disposition, that good-natured neighbors made him occasional
-presents of birds--such as a linnet, or a lark, or a pair of
-bullfinches--until he had gathered around him a small collection of
-feathered younglings. With these companions his life was as happy as
-life could be. He did not mope or fret because his legs were useless,
-and because he was compelled to use crutches; on the contrary, he
-absolutely loved his wooden props, as if they were bone of his bone
-and flesh of his flesh.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are right not to be a wood-turner Jo,&quot; said Dan, when his friend
-related to him the substance of the family discussions. &quot;If my legs
-were like yours, I wouldn't be.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan called his friend &quot;Jo.&quot; It was not quite right for Joshua, he
-said, but it sounded pretty. And so it did, especially from his lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I wish your legs <i>were</i> like mine, Dan,&quot; said Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It's of no use wishing,&quot; replied Dan. &quot;You know what mother says; it
-takes all sorts to make a world.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sound legs and broken legs--eh, Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; answered Dan merrily; &quot;and long ones and short ones, and thick
-ones and thin ones. Besides, if I had the strongest and biggest legs
-in the world, I don't think I should be happier than I am.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But wouldn't you like to be a hero--the same as I am going to be?&quot;
-asked Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We can't all be heroes. You go and fight with lions; I will stop and
-play with birds. I couldn't tame lions; but I <i>can</i> tame birds.&quot; Which
-he could, and did.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan was fond of speaking about lions because his name was Daniel; and
-many and many a time had he and Joshua read the wonderful story of
-Daniel in the lions' den. Joshua did not know much of the Bible until
-Dan introduced it to him, and read to him in his thin sweet voice the
-marvellous romances in that Book of books.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There was a hero for you!&quot; exclaimed Joshua admiringly, referring to
-the biblical &quot;I wonder what made him so brave.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because he was doing what he knew to be right,&quot; replied Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I dare say,&quot; was the acquiescent rejoinder.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And because he was not afraid to speak the truth even to Belshazzar;
-and because, above all, he believed in God. So God delivered him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All because he was doing right,&quot; said Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All because he was doing right,&quot; repeated Dan. &quot;I'm not a bit brave;
-that is because I am lame, perhaps. If I was thrown into a lions' den
-I should die of fear--I am sure I should; but if I was thrown into a
-birds' cage, full of strange birds, I would soon make friends with
-them; they would come and eat out of my hand in no time.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan, indeed, was wonderfully learned about birds and their habits, and
-possessed a singular power over them. He could train them to any thing
-almost. And bear this in mind; he used no cruel means in his training
-of them. What he taught them he taught them by kindness; and they were
-subservient to him from love and not from fear. The nature of the
-affliction which condemned him to a sedentary life, sharpened and
-concentrated his mental faculties, and endued him with a surprising
-patience. If it had been otherwise, he could never have trained the
-birds so thoroughly. Never mind what they were--blackbirds, linnets,
-larks, bullfinches, canaries--they were one and all his willing
-slaves, and, in the course of time, performed the tasks he set them
-with their best ability. Give Dan any one of these birds' and in a few
-weeks it would hop upon his finger, dance at his whistle, come at his
-call, fall dead upon the table, and jump up again at a given signal as
-lively as a cricket. He made little carts for them to draw, little
-swords for them to carry, little ladders for them to climb up, little
-guns for them to fire off, little houses for them to go in at the
-doors of and come out of the chimneys of. It was a sight worth seeing
-to watch them go through their performances; to see the dead bird lie
-on its back on the table, and watch cunningly out of a corner of its
-left eye for the signal which allowed it to come to life again; to see
-the family birds, after indulging in a little sensible conversation on
-the doorstep, go into the house, the door of which closed with a
-spring directly they got on the inside of it, and then presently to
-see their heads pop out of the chimneys, as if their owners were
-wondering what sort of weather it was; to see the first villain of the
-company hop upon the cart in which the pop-gun was fixed, and hop upon
-a slip of wood which in some mysterious manner acted upon the gun, and
-caused it to go off--and then to see the desperado watch for dreadful
-consequences which never followed; to see that cold-blooded and
-desperate bird jump briskly down, as if it were not disappointed, and
-place its neck in a ring in the shafts, and hop away to another
-battle-field; to see the two military birds march up and down in front
-of the house, holding little wooden swords in their beaks, as who
-should say to an advancing foe, &quot;Approach if you dare, and meet your
-doom!&quot; to see the climbing-bird hop up the steps of the ladder, and
-then hop down again triumphantly, as if it had performed a feat of
-which bird-kind might be proud; and to know that the birds enjoyed the
-fun and delighted in it; were pleasant things to see and know, and
-could do no one any harm. Of course there were hitches in the
-performances; occasionally the birds were dull or obstinate; but, as a
-rule, they were tractable and obedient; and if they did sometimes
-bungle their tricks they might very well be excused, for they were but
-feeble creatures after all.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So Dan passed his time innocently, and loved his pets, and his pets
-loved him. Joshua grew to love them too. He learned all their pretty
-little vocal tricks, and could imitate the different languages of the
-birds in such a wonderful manner that they would stop and listen
-to his warbling, and would answer it with similar joyful notes of
-their own. And when Dan and he were in a merry mood--which was not
-seldom--they and the birds would join in a concert which was almost as
-good, and quite as enjoyable, as the scraping of fiddles and the
-playing of flutes. Sometimes, in the evening, Joshua would play soft
-music upon his second-hand accordion; and directly he sounded the
-first note the birds would hop upon the table and stand in a line,
-with their heads inclined on one side, listening to Joshua's simple
-melodies with the gravity of connoisseurs, and would not flutter a
-feather of their little wings for fear they should disturb the harmony
-of sound.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER III.</h4>
-
-<h5>LIFE AND DEATH OF GOLDEN CLOUD.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">There was one canary which they had christened Golden Cloud.
-It was
-one of the two canaries that Dan had first trained; and for this and
-other reasons Golden Cloud was a special favorite with the lads. Dan
-used to declare that Golden Cloud literally understood every word he
-spoke to it. And it really appeared as if Dan were right in so
-declaring and so believing; it was certainly a fact that Golden Cloud
-was a bird of superior intelligence. The other birds were of that
-opinion, or they would not have accepted its leadership. When they
-marched, Golden Cloud was at the head of them--and very proud it
-appeared to be of its position; when the performances took place,
-Golden Cloud was the first to commence; if any thing very responsible
-and very particular were to be done, Golden Cloud was intrusted with
-it; and if any new bird was refractory, it devolved upon Golden Cloud
-to assist Dan to bring that bird to its senses. The birds did not
-entertain a particle of envy towards Golden Cloud because it had
-attained an eminence more distinguished than their own; and this fact
-was as apparent, as it must have been astonishing, to any reflective
-human being who enjoyed the happy privilege of being present now and
-then at the performances of Dan's clever troupe. Even when old age
-crept upon it--it was in the prime of life when Dan first took it in
-hand--the same respect was paid to the sagamore of the company. Its
-sight grew filmed, its legs grew scaly, its feathers grew ragged. What
-matter? Had it not been kind and gentle to them when in its prime?
-Should they not be kind and gentle to it now that Time was striking it
-down? And was it not, even in its decrepitude, the wise bird of them
-all?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Notwithstanding that it grew more and more shaky every hour almost,
-the old sense of duty was strong in the heart of Golden Cloud; and it
-strove to take part in the performances to the last. Golden Cloud had
-evidently learned the lesson, that to try always to do one's duty is
-the sweetest thing in life. In that respect it was wiser than many
-human beings, who should have been wiser than it. It was a melancholy
-sight, yet a comical one, withal, to see Golden Cloud lift a sword
-with its beak, and try to hold it there, and hop with it at the head
-of the company. It staggered here and there, and, being almost blind,
-sometimes hit an inoffensive bird across the beak, which caused a
-momentary confusion; but every thing was set right as quickly as could
-be. The other birds bore with Golden Cloud's infirmities, and made its
-labors light for it. Even the tomtit--that saucy, beautiful rascal,
-with its crown of Cambridge blue, who had been the most refractory
-bird that Golden Cloud ever had to deal with, who <i>would</i> turn heels
-over head in the midst of a serious lesson, and who <i>would</i> hop and
-twist about and agitate its staid companions with its restless
-tricks--even the tomtit, whose greatest delight was to steal things
-and break things, but whose spirit had been subdued and tamed by
-Golden Cloud's firmness, assisted the veteran in its old age, and did
-not make game of it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">One evening Joshua came round to Dan's room rather later than usual,
-and found Dan in tears.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is the matter, Dan?&quot; asked Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan did not reply.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do your legs hurt you, Dan?&quot; asked Joshua tenderly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan formed a &quot;No&quot; with his lips, but uttered no sound.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua thought it best not to tease his friend with any more
-questions. He saw that Dan was suffering from a grief which he would
-presently unbosom. He took his accordion on his knee and began to play
-very softly. As he played, a canary in a mourning-cloak came out of
-the toy-house; another canary in a mourning-cloak followed; then a
-bullfinch, and another bullfinch; then the tomtit and the linnets; and
-then the blackbirds; all in little black cloaks which Ellen Taylor's
-nimble fingers had made for them that day out of a piece of the lining
-of an old frock. At the sight of the first canary, with its black
-cloak on, Joshua was filled with astonishment; but when bird after
-bird followed, and ranged themselves solemnly in a line before him,
-and when he missed the presence of one familiar friend, he solved the
-riddle of their strange appearance; the birds were in mourning for the
-death of Golden Cloud.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They seemed to know it, too; they seemed to know that they had lost a
-friend, and that they were about to pay the last tribute of respect to
-their once guide and master. The bullfinches, their crimson breasts
-hidden by their cloaks, looked, with their black masks of faces like
-negro birds in mourning; the amiable linnets, unobtrusive and shy as
-they generally were, were still more quiet and sad than usual; even
-the daring blackbirds were subdued--with the exception of one who, in
-the midst of a silent interval, struck up &quot;Polly, put the kettle on,&quot;
-in its shrill whistle, but, observing the eyes of the tomtit fixed
-upon it with an air of reproach, stopped in sudden remorse, with the
-&quot;kettle&quot; sticking in its throat.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan had made a white shroud for Golden Cloud; and it was both
-quaint and mournful to see it as it lay in its coffin--Dan's
-money-box--surrounded by the mourners in their black cloaks. They
-stood quite still, with their cunning little heads all inclined one
-way, as if they were waiting for news concerning their dead leader
-from the world beyond the present.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua, with a glance of sorrow at the coffin, said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your money-box, Dan!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I wish I could have buried it in a flower-pot, Jo,&quot; replied Dan,
-suppressing a sob.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why didn't you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mother said father would be angry,&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Here the blackbird--perceiving that the tomtit was no longer observing
-it, and inwardly fretting that it should have been pulled up short in
-the midst of its favorite song; also feeling awkward, doubtless, with
-a kettle in its throat--piped out, with amazing rapidity and
-shrillness, &quot;Polly, put the kettle on; we'll all have tea.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The blue feathers in the tomtit's tail quivered with indignation, and
-its white-tipped wings fluttered reprovingly. Moral force was
-evidently quite thrown away upon such a blackbird as that; so the
-tomtit bestowed upon the recreant a sharp dig with its iron beak, and
-the blackbird bore the punishment with meekness; merely giving vent,
-in response, to a wonderful imitation of the crowing of an extremely
-weak cock, who led a discontented life in a neighboring back-yard.
-After which it relapsed into silence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan, who had stopped his speech to observe this passage between the
-birds, repeated,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mother said father would be angry; he knows how many flower-pots we
-have. So I used my money-box.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But you would rather have a flowerpot, Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should have liked a flower-pot above all things; it seems more
-natural for a bird. Something might grow out of it; something that
-Golden Cloud would like to know is above it, if it was only a blade of
-grass.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua ran out of Dan's room and returned in a very few minutes with a
-flowerpot with mignonette growing in it. He was almost breathless with
-excitement.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is mine, Dan,&quot; he said, &quot;and it is yours. I bought it with my own
-money; and it shall be Golden Cloud's coffin.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Kiss me, Jo,&quot; said Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua kissed him, and then carefully lifted the flower-roots from the
-pot, and placed Golden Cloud in the soft mould beneath. A few tears
-fell from Dan's eyes into the flowerpot coffin, as he looked for the
-last time upon the form of his pet canary. Then Joshua replaced the
-flower-roots, and arranged the earth, and Golden Cloud was ready for
-burial.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Play something, Jo,&quot; said Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua took his accordion in his hands, and played a slow solemn
-march; and the birds, directed by Dan, hopped gravely round the
-flower-pot, the tomtit keeping its eye sternly fixed upon the
-rebellious blackbird, expressing in the look an unmistakable
-determination to put an instant stop to the slightest exhibition of
-indecency.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know where to bury it,&quot; said Dan, when the ceremony was
-completed. &quot;Ellen has been trying to pick out a flagstone in the yard,
-but she made her fingers bleed, and then couldn't move it. And if it
-was buried there, the stone would have to be trodden down, and the
-flowers in the coffin couldn't grow.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There's that little bit of garden in <i>our</i> yard,&quot; said Joshua. &quot;I can
-bury it there, if you don't mind. I can put the flowerpot in so that
-the mignonette will grow out of it quite nicely. It isn't very far,
-Dan,&quot; continued Joshua, divining Dan's wish that Golden Cloud should
-be buried near him; &quot;only five yards off; and it is the best place we
-know of.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan assenting, Joshua took the flowerpot, and buried it in what he
-called his garden; which was an estate of such magnificent proportions
-that he could have covered it with his jacket. He was proud of it
-notwithstanding, and considered it a grand property. A boundary of
-oyster-shells defined the limits of the estate, and served as a
-warning to trespassing feet. In the centre of this garden Golden Cloud
-was buried. When Joshua returned to Dan's room, the mourning-cloaks
-were taken off the birds--who seemed very glad to get rid of them--and
-they were sent to bed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan was allowed to sit up an hour longer than usual that night, and he
-and Joshua occupied those precious minutes in confidential
-conversation. First they spoke of Golden Cloud, and then of Joshua's
-prospects.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You haven't made up your mind yet what you are going to be, Jo,&quot; said
-Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I haven't made up my mind,&quot; replied Joshua, &quot;but I have an idea. I
-don't want you to ask me what it is. I will tell you soon--in a few
-weeks perhaps.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where have you been to-day? You were late.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I went to the waterside.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To the river?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To the river.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To the river that runs to the sea,&quot; said Dan musingly, with a dash of
-regret in his voice. &quot;What a wonderful sight it must be to see the
-sea, as we read of it! Would you like to see it, Jo?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dearly, Dan!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And to be on it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dearly, Dan!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan looked at Joshua sadly. There was an eager longing in Joshua's
-eyes, and an eager longing in the parting of his lips, as he sat with
-hands clasped upon his knee.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can see a great many things that I have never seen,&quot; said Dan; &quot;see
-them with my mind, I mean. I can see gardens and fields and trees,
-almost as they are. I can fancy myself lying in fields with the grass
-waving about me. I can fancy myself in a forest with the great trees
-spreading out their great limbs, and I can see the branches bowing to
-each other as the wind sweeps by them. I can see a little stream
-running down a hill, and hiding itself in a valley. I can even see a
-river--but all rivers must be muddy, I think; not bright, like the
-streams. But I can't see the sea, Jo. It is too big--too wonderful!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rapt in the contemplation of the subject, Dan and Joshua were silent
-for a little while.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ships on the top of water-mountains,&quot; resumed Dan presently, &quot;then
-down in a valley like, with curling waves above them. That is what I
-have read; but I can't see it. 'Robinson Crusoe' is behind you, Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua opened the book--it was a favorite one with the lads, as with
-what lads is it not?--and skimmed down the pages as he turned them
-over.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'A raging wave, mountain-like, came rolling astern of us,'&quot; he said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is the shipwreck,&quot; said Dan, looking over Joshua's shoulder.
-&quot;Then here, farther down: 'I saw the sea come after me as high as a
-great hill, and as furious as an enemy.' Think of that! Here picture.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The lads looked for the thousandth time at the rough wood-cut, in
-which Robinson was depicted casting a look of terror over his shoulder
-at the curling waves, ten times as tall as himself; his arms were
-extended, and he was supposed to be running away from the waves;
-although, according to the picture, nothing short of a miracle could
-save him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Look!&quot; said Joshua, turning a few pages back and reading, &quot;'yonder lies
-a dreadful monster on the side of that hillock, fast asleep.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'I looked where he pointed,'&quot; read Dan--it was a favorite custom with
-them to read each a few lines at a time--&quot;'and saw a dreadful monster
-indeed, for it was a terrible great lion that lay on the side of the
-shore, under the shade of a piece of the hill that hung as it were a
-little over him. Xury, says I, you shall go on shore, and kill him.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Could you kill a lion, Jo?&quot; asked Dan, breaking off in his reading.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know,&quot; said Joshua, considering and feeling very doubtful of
-his capability.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan resumed the reading:--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I took our biggest gun, which was almost musket-bore, and loaded it
-with a good charge of powder and with two slugs, and laid it down;
-then I loaded another gun with two bullets; and the third (for we had
-three pieces), I loaded with five smaller bullets.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, I couldn't kill a lion,&quot; said Joshua, in a tone of disappointed
-conviction; &quot;for I can't fire off a gun. But that occurred nearly two
-hundred years ago, Dan. I don't suppose there are as many lions now as
-there used to be.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And ships are different, too, to what they were then, Jo,&quot; said Dan,
-closing the book. &quot;Stronger and better built. I dare say if it had
-been a very strong ship that Robinson Crusoe went out in, he wouldn't
-have been wrecked.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am glad he was, though; if he hadn't been, we shouldn't have been
-able to read about him. It is beautiful, isn't it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Beautiful to read,&quot; replied Dan. &quot;But he was dreadfully miserable
-sometimes; for twenty-four years and more he had no one to speak to.
-It appears strange to me that he didn't forget how to speak the
-English language, and that he didn't go mad. Now, Jo, supposing it was
-you! Do you think, if you had no one to speak to for twenty years,
-that you would be able to speak as well as you do now? Don't you think
-you would stammer over a word sometimes, and lose the sense of it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan asked these questions so earnestly, that Joshua laughed, and
-said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Upon my word, I don't know, Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But the time was to come when the memory of Dan's questions came to
-Joshua's mind with a deep and solemn significance. &quot;He had his parrot
-certainly,&quot; continued Dan; &quot;but what used he to say to it? 'Robin,
-Robin, Robin Crusoe! Poor Robin Crusoe! How came you here? Where have
-you been, Robin?' That wasn't much to say, and to be always saying;
-and I am sure that if he kept on saying it for so many years, he must
-have entirely forgotten what the meaning of it was. You try it,--say a
-word, or two or three words, for a hundred times. You will begin to
-wonder what it means before you come to the end.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But he had his Bible; and you know what a comfort that was to him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps that was the reason he didn't go mad. I dare say, too, that
-some qualities in him were strengthened and came to his aid because he
-was so strangely situated. What qualities now, Jo?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't understand you, Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I <i>do</i> say things sometimes you don't understand at first, don't I,
-Jo?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua nodded good-humoredly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am often puzzled myself to know what I mean. Leaving Robinson
-Crusoe alone, and speaking of qualities, Jo, take me for an instance.
-I am a cripple, and shall never be able to go about. And do you know,
-Jo, that my mind is stronger than it would have been if I were not
-helpless? I can see things.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Can you see any thing now, Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can see something that will separate you and me, Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Forever, Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, not forever; we shall be together sometimes and then you can tell
-me all sorts of things that I shall never be able to see myself.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you think your legs will ever get strong?&quot; asked Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never, Jo; they get worse and worse. And I feel, too, so weak, that I
-am afraid I shall not have strength to use my crutches much longer.
-Every thing about me--my limbs, and joints, and every thing--gets
-weaker and weaker every day. If it wasn't for my body, I should be all
-right. My mind is right. I can talk and think as well as if my body
-were strong. Stupid bits of flesh and bone!&quot; he exclaimed, looking at
-his limbs, and good-humoredly scolding them. &quot;Why don't you fly away
-and leave me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At this point of the conversation Mrs. Taylor called out that it was
-time for Dan to go to bed, so the lads parted. That night Joshua
-dreamed that he killed a lion; and Dan dreamed that Golden Cloud came
-out of the flower-pot, and it wasn't dead, but only pretending.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan had good reason for speaking in the way he did of his body, for it
-distressed him very much. Soon after the death of Golden Cloud, he
-grew so weak and ill that he was confined to his bed. But his mind
-scarcely seemed to be affected by his bodily ills, and his
-cheerfulness never deserted him. He had his dear winged companions
-brought to his bedroom, and they hopped about his bed as contentedly
-as could be. And there he played with them and took delight in them;
-and, as he hearkened to their chirrupings, and looked at their pretty
-forms, a sweet pleasure was in his eyes, a sweet pleasure was in his
-heart. And this pleasure was enhanced by the presence of Joshua, who
-spent a great deal of time with his sick friend.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The tender love that existed between the lads was undefiled by a
-single selfish act or thought. They were one in sympathy and
-sentiment. Joshua was Dan's almost only companion during his illness.
-Dan's mother tended him and gave him his physic, which could not do
-him any good, the doctor said; but Mrs. Taylor's household duties and
-responsibilities occupied nearly the whole of her time; she could not
-afford to keep a servant, and she had all the kitchen-work to do.
-Ellen--Dan's twin-sister and Joshua's quondam sweetheart--was often in
-the room; but, young as she was, she was already being employed about
-the house assisting her mother. She scrubbed the floors and washed the
-clothes; and, although she was so little that she had to stand on a
-chair in the tiny yard to hang the clothes on the line, she was as
-proud of her work, and took as much pleasure in it, as if she were a
-grown woman, who had been properly brought up. Notwithstanding the
-onerous nature of her duties, she managed to spend half an hour now
-and again with Josh and Dan, and would sit quite still listening to
-the conversation. Her presence in the room was pleasing to the
-boy-friends, for Ellen was as modest and tidy a little girl as could
-be met with in a day's walk.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan, Dan's unfortunate nursemaid, was a young woman now. But she had
-a horror of the sick-room. She entertained a secret conviction that
-she was a murderess, and really had some sort of an idea that if
-Daniel died she would be taken up and hanged. She was as fascinated as
-ever with Punch and Judy; but the fascination had something horrible
-in it. Often when she was standing looking at the show--and she was
-more welcome to the showman than she used to be, for now she sometimes
-gave him a penny--she would begin to tremble when the hangman came on
-the scene with his gallows, and would then fairly run away in a
-fright. Ever since she had let Daniel slip from her arms out of the
-window, there had been growing in her mind a fear that something
-dreadful was following her; and a dozen times a day she would throw a
-startled look behind her, as if to assure herself that there was
-nothing horrible there. She had been sufficiently punished for her
-carelessness. For a good many weeks after it occurred, bad little boys
-and girls in the neighborhood used to call after her, &quot;Ah-h-h Who
-killed her little brother? Ah-h-h!&quot; If she ran, they ran after her,
-and hooted her with the dreadful accusation. It took different forms.
-Now it was, &quot;Ah-h-h-h! Who killed her little brother? Ah-h-h!&quot; And now
-it was, &quot;Ah-h-h! Who'll be hung for killing her little brother?
-Ah-h-h-h!&quot; Such an effect did this cruel punishment have upon her,
-that she would wake up in terror in the middle of the night with all
-her fevered pulses quivering to the cry, &quot;Ah-h-h-h! Who'll be hung for
-killing her little brother? Ah-h-h-h!&quot; But time, which cures all
-things, relieved her. The bad boys and girls grew tired of saying the
-same thing over and over again. A new excitement claimed their
-attention, and poor Susan was allowed to walk unmolested through the
-streets. But the effect remained in the terror-flashes that would
-spring in her eyes, and in the agonized looks of fear that she would
-throw behind her every now and again, without any apparent cause.
-These feelings had such a powerful effect upon her, that she never
-entered Dan's room unless she were compelled to do so; and once, when
-Dan sent for her and asked her to forgive him for being naughty when
-he was a baby, she was so affected that she did nothing but shed
-remorseful tears for a week afterwards.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">One day, when Dan was playing with the birds, and no other person but
-he and Joshua was in the room, he said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think the birds know that I am so weak and ill, Jo, dear?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sometimes I think they do, Dan,&quot; answered Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dear little things! You haven't any idea how weak I really am. But I
-am strong enough for something.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What, Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If you don't ask any questions, I sha'n't tell you any stories,&quot;
-replied Dan gayly. &quot;Lend me your penknife.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua gave Dan his penknife, and when he came the next day Dan was
-cutting strips of wood from one of his crutches.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O Dan!&quot; exclaimed Joshua, bursting into tears.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan looked at Joshua, and smiled.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O you cry-baby!&quot; he said. But he said it in a voice of exquisite
-tenderness; and he drew Joshua's head on to the pillow, and he laid
-his own beside it, and he kissed Joshua's lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I shall not want my crutches any more,&quot; he whispered in Joshua's ear
-as thus they lay; &quot;that is all. It isn't as bad as you think.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are not going to die, Dan?&quot; asked Joshua in a trembling voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't think I am--yet. It is only because I am almost certain--I
-feel it, Jo--that I shall be a helpless cripple all my life, and that
-I shall not be able to move about, even with the help of crutches.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Poor dear Dan!&quot; said Joshua, checking his sobs with difficulty.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Poor Dan! Not at all! I can read, I can think, and I can love you,
-Jo, all the same. I have made up my mind what I am going to do. I
-shall live in you. You are my friend, and strong as you are, you can't
-love me more than I love you. And even if I was to die, dear&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't say that, Dan; I can't bear to think of it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why? It isn't dreadful. If I was to die, we should still be
-friends--we should still love each other. Don't you love Golden
-Cloud?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua whispered &quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But Golden Cloud is not here. Yet you love him. And so do I, more
-than I did when pet was alive. I don't quite know how it is with
-birds, but I do know how it is with us. If you was here, Jo, and I was
-there, we should meet again.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Amen, Dan!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And it is nice to believe and know--as you and I believe and
-know--that if we were parted, we should come together again by and by;
-and that perhaps the dear little birds would be with us there as they
-are here, and that we should love them as we love them now. They are
-so pretty and harmless that I think God will let them come. Besides,
-what would the trees do without them?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What do you mean, Dan, by saying that you are going to live in me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is a curious fancy, Jo, but I have thought of it a good deal, and
-I want you to think of it too. I want to be with you, although I shall
-not be able to move. You are going to be a hero, and are going to see
-strange sights perhaps. I can see farther than you can; and I know the
-meaning of your going down to the riverside, as you have done a good
-many times lately. I know what you will make up your mind to be,
-although I sha'n't say until you tell me yourself. Well, Jo, I want
-you to fancy, if I don't know what is happening to you--if you are in
-any strange place, and are seeing wonderful things--I want you to
-fancy, 'Dan is here with me, although I cannot see him.' Will you do
-that, Jo, dear?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; wherever I am, and whatever I shall see, I will think, 'Dan is
-here with me, although I cannot see him.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is friendship. This isn't,&quot; said Dan, holding up a finger; &quot;this
-is only a little bit of flesh. If it is anywhere about us, it is
-here;&quot; and he took Joshua's fingers, and pressed them to his heart.
-Then, after a pause of a few moments, he said, &quot;So don't cry any more
-because I am cutting up my crutches; I am making some new things for
-the birds.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They had a concert after that; and the blackbird whistled &quot;Polly, put
-the kettle on,&quot; to its heart's content; and the tomtit performed
-certain difficult acrobatic tricks in token of approval.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan recovered so far from his sickness as to be able to leave his bed.
-But it almost appeared as if he was right in saying that he should not
-want his crutches. He had not sufficient strength in his shoulders to
-use them. He had to be lifted in and out of bed, and sometimes could
-not even wash and dress himself. Ellen Taylor was his nurse, and a
-dear good nurse she proved herself to be. A cross word never passed
-her lips. She devoted herself to the service of her helpless brother
-with a very perfect love; and her nature was so beautiful in its
-gentleness and tenderness that those qualities found expression in her
-face, and made that beautiful also. Dan had yielded to Joshua's
-entreaties not to destroy his crutches. &quot;You might be able to use them
-some day,&quot; Joshua would say. To which Dan would reply by asking gayly
-if Joshua had ever heard of a miracle in Stepney. However, he kept his
-crutches, and Joshua was satisfied. In course of time Joshua began to
-train a few birds at his own house, and now and then Dan's parents
-would allow Dan to be carried to Joshua's house, and to stop there for
-a few days. When that occurred, Dan and Joshua slept together, and
-would tell stories to each other long after the candle had been blown
-out--stories of which Joshua was almost always the hero. Joshua had
-one great difficulty to overcome when he first introduced the birds
-into his house; that difficulty was the yellow-haired cat, of which
-mention has already been made. With the usual amiability of her
-species, the domestic tigress, directly she set eyes upon the birds,
-determined to make a meal of them, and it required all Joshua's
-vigilance to prevent the slaughter of the innocents. But he was
-patient, and firm, and kind, and he so conquered the tigerish
-propensities of the cat towards the birds, that in a few weeks she
-began to tolerate them, and in a few weeks more to play with them and
-to allow them to play with her, and gradually grew so cordial with
-them that it might have been supposed she had kittened them by
-mistake.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4>
-
-<h5>IN WHICH DAN GETS WILD NOTIONS INTO HIS HEAD,<br>AND MAKES SOME VERY BOYISH
-EXPERIMENTS.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">If every farthing of the allowance of pocket-money which
-Joshua and
-Dan received from their respective parents had been carefully saved
-up, it would not have amounted to a very large sum in the course of
-the year. Insignificant, however, as was the allowance, it sufficed
-for their small wants, and was made to yield good interest in the way
-of social enjoyment. The lads did not keep separate accounts. What
-was Joshua's was Dan's, and what was Dan's was Joshua's. As there were
-no secret clasps in their minds concealing something, which the other
-was not to share and enjoy, so there was no secret clasp in their
-money-box which debarred either from spending that which, strictly
-speaking, belonged to his friend. Dan was the treasurer; the treasury
-was the money-box which was to have been Golden Cloud's coffin. Dan's
-allowance was two pence a week, which was often in arrears in
-consequence of his father being too fond of public-houses; Joshua's
-allowance was four pence a week, which he received very regularly. But
-each of their allowances was supplemented by contributions from
-independent sources. The motives which prompted these contributions
-were of a very different nature; as the following will explain:--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Something more for the money-box, Dan,&quot; said Joshua, producing a
-four-penny piece, and dropping it into the box.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;From the same party, Jo?&quot; asked Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;From the same jolly old party, Dan. From the Old Sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is he nice?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The Old Sailor? You should see him, that's all.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have been down to the waterside again, then?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes. Tuck-tuck-joey!&quot; This latter to the linnet, who came out to have
-a peep at Joshua, and who, directly it heard the greeting, responded
-with the sweetest peal of music that mortal ever listened to. When the
-linnet had finished its song the obtrusive and greedy blackbird,
-determined not to be outdone, and quite ignoring the fact that it had
-had a very good supper, ordered Polly to put the kettle on, in its
-most piercing notes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Did you go on the river, Jo?&quot; asked Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes. In a boat. Rowing. The Old Sailor says I am getting along
-famously.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I <i>should</i> like to see the Old Sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I wish you could; but he is such a strange old fellow! He doesn't
-care for the land. When I tell mother what I am making up my mind to
-be--what I shall have <i>made</i> up mind then to be--I will coax him to
-come to our house. I want him to talk to mother about the sea, for she
-is sure to cry and fret, and although the Old Sailor doesn't think
-that women are as good as men, he thinks mothers are better.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan laughed a pleasant little laugh.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is queer,&quot; he said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He knows all about you, and he asks me every day, 'How is Dan?'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am glad of that--very glad.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So am I. I have told him all about the birds, and how, they love you.
-You would never guess what he said to-day about you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Something very bad, I dare say,&quot; said Dan, knowing very well, all the
-time, that it was something good, or Joshua would not tell him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Something <i>very</i> bad. He said, 'He must be a fine little
-chap'--meaning you, Dan--'or the birds wouldn't love him.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Has he been all over the world, Jo?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All over the world; and O Dan, he has seen <i>such</i> places!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I tell you what we will do,&quot; said Dan. &quot;To-morrow you shall buy a
-couple of young bullfinches, and you shall find out some tune the Old
-Sailor is fond of; and I will teach the bullfinches to whistle it.
-Then you shall give the birds to the Old Sailor, and say they are a
-present from me and you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That will be prime! He will be so pleased!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Have you ever heard him sing, Jo?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; answered Joshua, laughing; &quot;I have heard him sing,--</p>
-<br>
-<div style="margin-left:15%; font-size:smaller">
-
-<p style="text-indent:-3%; margin-bottom:0px">'Which is the properest day to
-drink,<br>
-Saturday, Sunday, Monday?</p>
-<p style="text-indent:-10px; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Each is the
-properest day, I think--
-Why should I name but one day?</p>
-<p style="text-indent:-10px; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Tell me but
-yours, I'll mention my day,<br>
-Let us but fix on some day--</p>
-<p style="text-indent:-10px; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Tuesday,
-Wednesday, Thursday, Friday,<br>
-Saturday, Sunday, or Monday.'&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't think that would do,&quot; said Dan, echoing Joshua's
-laugh.
-<br>
-&quot;Here's another,&quot; said Joshua, and he played a prelude to &quot;Poor Tom
-Bowling,&quot; and sang the first verse,--</p>
-<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:smaller">
-<p style="text-indent:-18px; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">
-'Here a sheer hulk lies poor Tom Bowling,<br>
-The darling of our crew;</p>
-<p style="text-indent:-10px; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">No more he'll
-hear the tempest howling,
-For death has broached him too.</p>
-<p style="text-indent:-10px; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">His form was of
-the manliest beauty,<br>
-His heart was kind and soft,</p>
-<p style="text-indent:-10px; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Faithful below
-Tom did his duty,<br>
-But now he's gone aloft,<br>
-But now he's gone aloft.'&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p class="normal">Joshua sang the words with much tender feeling, but Dan shook
-his head.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The birds would never be able to get the spirit of the song
-into them,&quot; he said, &quot;and the tune is nothing without that. Never
-mind--we'll teach them something, and then the Old Sailor shall have
-them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And I shall tell him they are a present from you alone.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; said Dan energetically; &quot;that would spoil it all. They are from
-you and me together. Can't you guess the reason why?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I believe I can,&quot; replied Joshua, after a little consideration. &quot;The
-Old Sailor likes me, and you want him to like you because of me, not
-because of yourself alone; you want him to like me more because of
-you--as I am sure he will when he knows you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's it. I want him to know that we love each other, and that we
-shall always love each other, whether we are together or separated. I
-want everybody who likes you, Jo, to like me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua laid his hand upon Dan's, which rested on the table, and Dan
-placed his other hand upon Joshua's playfully. Their hands were
-growing to be very unlike. Dan's hand, as it grew, became more
-delicate, while Joshua's grew stronger and more muscular. Dan laughed
-another pleasant laugh as he remarked the difference between them.
-&quot;That is a proper kind of hand for a hero,&quot; he said. And then, in a
-more serious voice, &quot;Joshua, do you know I think we can see each
-other's thoughts.&quot; And so, indeed, it appeared as if they could.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The next day the bullfinches were bought, and Dan began to train them.
-They were a pair of very young birds, not a dozen days old, and the
-air Dan fixed upon to teach them first was &quot;Rule, Britannia.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So much for Joshua's supplemental contributions to the general fund.
-Now for Dan's.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Another sixpence in a piece of paper, Jo!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That makes eighteen pence this month, Dan. Poor Susan!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Poor Susan!&quot; echoed Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan was very much to be pitied. Looking upon herself as her
-brother's destroyer, she endeavored, by offerings of sixpences as
-often as she could afford them, to atone for the crime--for so she now
-regarded it--by which she had made him a helpless cripple. These
-sixpences were not given openly; they were laid, as it were, upon the
-sacrificial altar in secret. Sometimes the altar was one of Ellen's
-shoes, and Ellen, when she dressed herself, would feel something
-sticking in her heel, and discover it to be a sixpence tightly screwed
-up in a piece of paper, with the words, &quot;For Dan; from Susan,&quot; written
-on it; sometimes the altar was one of Dan's pocket-handkerchiefs,
-and the sixpence was tied up in a knot; sometimes it was a bag of
-bird-seed; sometimes Dan's cap. She was so imbued with a sense of
-guilt, that she trembled when she met Dan's eye. He was as kind and
-gentle to her, when he had the opportunity, as he was to all around
-him; and divining her secret remorse, he tried by every means in his
-power to lessen it. But the feeling, that, if Dan died, she was a
-murderess, was too deeply implanted in her to be ever removed. She
-lived in constant fear. She was afraid of the dark, and could not
-sleep without a rush-light near her bedside. Often in the night, on
-occasions when Dan was weaker than usual, she would creep down stairs,
-and listen at his bedroom-door to catch the sound of his breathing. If
-she did not hear it at first, the ghostly echo of the old terrible
-cry, &quot;Ah-h-h-h! who killed her little brother? Ah-h-h-h!&quot; filled the
-staircase and the passage with dreadful shadows; shadows that seemed
-to thicken and gather about her as if possessed with a desire to
-stifle her--and she would press her hands tightly upon her eyes so
-that she should not see them. Then perhaps she would open Dan's door
-quietly, and hearing him breathe, ever so softly, would creep up
-stairs again, a little more composed; always closing her door quickly,
-to prevent the shadows on the stairs from coming into her room.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The supplemental contributions from Susan and the Old Sailor were very
-acceptable to Dan and Joshua, who were both fond of reading. What was
-not spent in birds' food was spent in books. They subscribed to two
-magazines, the &quot;Penny Magazine&quot; and the &quot;Mirror,&quot; which came out
-weekly; the subscription was a serious one for them, and made a great
-hole in their pocket-money: it swallowed up three pence per week. The
-addition of a new book to their modest library was one of the proudest
-events in their quiet lives. &quot;New&quot; books is not a strictly correct
-phrase, for the collection consisted of second-hand volumes, picked up
-almost at random at old-book stalls. Although their library was a
-small one, not numbering in its palmiest days more than fifty volumes,
-it was wonderfully miscellaneous. Now it was a book of travels that
-Joshua bought; now a book of poems; now an odd volume of a magazine;
-now a book on natural history; now a speculative book which neither of
-the boys could understand--not at all a weak reason in favor of its
-being purchased. Over these books the boys would pore night after
-night, and extract such marrow from them as best suited their humor.
-The conversations which arose out of their readings were worth
-listening to; Dan's observations, especially, were very quaint and
-original, and gave evidence, not only of good taste, but of the
-possession of reflective powers of a high order.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">An old book on dreams which Joshua bought for a song, as the saying
-is, proved especially attractive to Dan. The proper title of the book
-was the &quot;Philosophy of Dreams,&quot; an ambitious sub-title--the &quot;Triumph
-of Mind over Matter&quot;--being affixed. Dan read and re-read this book
-with avidity. In it the writer contended that a person could so
-command and control his mental forces, as to train himself to dream of
-events which were actually taking place at a distance from him, at the
-precise moment they occurred. Space, said the author, was of the
-smallest consequence. There was one thing, however, that was
-absolutely necessary--that a perfect sympathy should exist between the
-dreamer and the person or persons of whom he was dreaming. It was a
-wildly-speculative book taken at its best, and contained much
-irrelevant and ridiculous matter; but it was just the kind of book to
-attract such a lad as Dan, and it set him thinking. &quot;Perfect sympathy!
-Such a sympathy,&quot; he thought, &quot;as exists between me and Jo;&quot; and he
-proceeded to read with greater eagerness. The author, in support of
-his theory, dragged in nearly all the sciences; and drew largely upon
-that of phrenology. He explained where certain organs lay, such as
-wonder, veneration, benevolence, destructiveness, and proceeded
-somewhat in the following fashion: Say that a person is sleeping, and
-that he is not disturbed by any special powerful emotion, arising
-probably from strong anxiety connected with his worldly circumstances.
-His mind must be at rest, and his sleep be calm and peaceful. Under
-these circumstances, if a certain organ, say the organ of veneration,
-be gently pressed, the sleeper will presently dream a dream, in which
-the sentiment of veneration will be the quality most prominently
-brought into play. And so with wonder, and benevolence, and
-combativeness, and other qualities. Having stated this very
-distinctly, the writer proceeded, as if the mere statement were
-sufficient proof of its incontestability: say that between the sleeper
-and the operator a strong and earnest sympathy existed; the operator,
-selecting in his mind some person with whom they are both acquainted,
-brings his power of will to bear upon the sleeper. (Here the writer
-interpolated that the experiment would fail if the organs of
-concentrativeness and firmness were not more than ordinarily large in
-the operator.) With his mind firmly fixed upon the one object, he
-wills that the sleeper shall dream of their mutual acquaintance; and
-as he wills it, with all the intensity he can exercise, he gently
-manipulates the sleeper's organ of tune--which, by the way, the author
-stated he believed was the only one of the purely intellectual
-faculties which could be pressed into service. The sleeper will then
-dream of the selected person, and his sense of melody and the harmony
-of sound will be gratified. Then, in a decidedly vague manner, as if
-he had got himself in a tangle from which he did not know how to
-extricate himself, the author argued that what one person could do to
-another, he could do also to himself, and that the effect produced
-upon another person by physical manipulation may be produced upon
-one's self by a strong concentration of will. During our waking
-moments he said, the affective faculties of our mind are brought into
-play. Thus, we see and wonder; thus, we see and venerate; thus, we see
-and pity. These faculties or sentiments are excited and make
-themselves felt without any effort on our part. If, then,
-circumstances, which previously did not affect us, can thus act upon
-us without the exercise of voluntary effort to produce sensation; if
-circumstances, in which we had no reason to feel the slightest active
-interest, can cause us to venerate, to pity, to wonder--broadly, to
-rejoice and to suffer--why should we not be able, by the aid of a
-powerful sympathy and an earnest desire, to bring into reasoning
-action the faculties which are thus excited by uninteresting and
-independent circumstances?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Thus far the author: unconscious that he had fallen into the serious
-error of confounding the affective with the intellectual faculties,
-and not appearing to understand that, whereas an affective faculty can
-be brought into conscious action by independent circumstances, an
-intellectual faculty requires a direct mental effort before it is
-excited. His essay was not convincing. He wandered off at tangents;
-laid down a theory, and, proceeding to establish it, so entangled
-himself that he lost its connecting threads; and had evidently been
-unable to properly think out a subject which is not entirely unworthy
-of consideration. However, he had written his book, and it got into
-Dan's hands and into Dan's head. Joshua did not understand it a bit,
-and said so; and when he asked Dan to explain it, Dan could scarcely
-fit words to what was in his mind.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Although I cannot explain it very clearly, I can understand it,&quot; said
-Dan. &quot;He means to say that a person can see with his mental sight&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is, with his eyes shut,&quot; interrupted Joshua jocularly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Certainly, with his eyes shut,&quot; said Dan very decidedly. &quot;Our eyes
-are shut when we dream, yet we see things.&quot; Joshua became serious
-immediately; the answer was a convincing one. &quot;And that proves that we
-have two senses of sight--one in the eyes, the other in the mind.
-Haven't you seen rings, and circles, and clouds when you are in bed at
-night, and before you go to sleep? I can press my face on the pillow
-and say--not out loud, and yet I say it and can hear it--which shows
-that all our senses are double.&quot; (In his eagerness to explain what he
-could scarcely comprehend, Dan was in danger of falling into the same
-error as the author of the &quot;Triumph of Mind over Matter&quot; had fallen
-into, that of flying off at tangents: it was with difficulty he could
-keep to his subject.) &quot;Well, Jo, I press my head into the pillow, and
-say, 'I will see rings,' and presently I see a little ball, black,
-perhaps, and it grows and grows into rings--like what you see when you
-throw a stone in the water--larger, and larger, all the different
-colors of the rainbow; and then, when they have grown so large as to
-appear to have lost themselves in space--just like the rings in the
-water, Jo--another little ball shapes itself in the dark, and
-gradually becomes visible, and then the rings come and grow and
-disappear as the others did. When I have seen enough, I say--not out
-loud again, Jo, but silently as I did before--'I don't want to see any
-more,' and they don't come again. What I can do with rings, I can do
-with clouds. I say, 'I will see clouds,' and they come, all colors of
-blue, from white-blue to black-blue; sometimes I see sunsets.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have seen them too, Dan,&quot; said Joshua; &quot;I have seen skies with
-stars in them, just as I have seen them with my eyes wide open.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, if we can do this,&quot; continued Dan, &quot;why cannot we do more?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We can't do what he says in this book,&quot; said Joshua, drumming with
-his fingers on the &quot;Philosophy of Dreams.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know. Why should he write all that unless he knew something?
-There is no harm in trying, at all events. Let me see. Here is a chart
-of a head, Jo turning to a diagram in the book. Where is
-combativeness? Oh! here, at the back of the head, behind the ear. Can
-you feel it, Jo? Is it a large bump? No; you are going too high up, I
-am sure. Now you are too much in the middle. Ah! that's the place, I
-think.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">These last sentences referred to Joshua's attempt to find Dan's organ
-of combativeness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't feel any thing particular, Dan,&quot; he said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But you feel something, don't you, Jo?&quot; asked Dan anxiously. &quot;There
-<i>is</i> a bump there, isn't there?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A very little one,&quot; answered Joshua, earnestly manipulating Dan's
-head, and pressing the bump. &quot;Do you feel spiteful?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; said Dan, laughing.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There's a bump twice as large just above your fighting one.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is that bump?&quot; said Dan, examining the diagram again. &quot;Ah that
-must be adhesiveness.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know what that means.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Give me the dictionary;&quot; and Dan with eager fingers turned over the
-pages of an old Walker's Dictionary. &quot;'Adhesive--sticking,
-tenacious,'&quot; he read. &quot;That is, that I stick to a thing, as I mean to
-do to this. Now I'll tell you what we'll do, Jo. I shall sleep at your
-house to-morrow night, and when I am asleep, you shall press my organ
-of combativeness--put your fingers on it--yes, there; and when I wake
-I will tell you what I have dreamed of.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All right,&quot; said Joshua, removing his fingers.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You will be able to find the place again?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you will be sure to keep awake?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sure, Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The following night, Joshua waited very patiently until Dan was
-asleep. He had to wait a long time; for Dan, in consequence of his
-anxiety, was longer than usual getting to sleep. Once or twice Joshua
-thought that his friend was in the Land of Nod, and he commenced
-operations, but he was interrupted by Dan saying drowsily, &quot;I am not
-asleep yet, Jo.&quot; At length Dan really went off, and then Joshua, very
-quietly and with great care, felt for Dan's organ of combativeness,
-and pressed it. Joshua looked at his sleeping friend with anxiety.
-&quot;Perhaps he will hit out at me,&quot; he thought. But Dan lay perfectly
-still, and Joshua, after waiting and watching in vain for some
-indication of the nature of Dan's sleeping fancies, began to feel very
-sleepy himself, and went to bed. In the morning, when they were both
-awake, Joshua asked what Dan had dreamed of.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can't remember,&quot; said Dan, rubbing his eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I pressed your combativeness for a long time, Dan,&quot; said Joshua; &quot;and
-I pressed it so hard that I was almost afraid you would hit out.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I didn't, did I?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No; you were as still as a mouse.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I dreamed of something, though,&quot; said Dan, considering. &quot;Oh, I
-remember! I dreamed of you, So; you were standing on a big ship, with
-a big telescope in your hand. You had no cap on, and your hair was all
-flying about.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Were there any sailors on the ship?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A good many.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Did you quarrel with any of them?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I didn't dream of myself at all.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Did any of the sailors quarrel with me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There wasn't any quarrelling, Jo, that I can remember.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So you see,&quot; said Joshua, &quot;that it is all fudge.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't see that at all. Now I think of it, it isn't likely that I
-should dream of quarrelling with any one or fighting with any one when
-I was dreaming of you, Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Or perhaps you haven't any combativeness, Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps I haven't. It wouldn't be of much use to me if I had, for I
-shouldn't know how to fight.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Or perhaps your combativeness is so small that it won't act,&quot; said
-Joshua sportively.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't joke about it, Jo,&quot; said Dan. &quot;You don't know how serious I am,
-and how disappointed I feel at its being a failure. Will you try it
-again to-night?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua, seeing that Dan was very much in earnest, readily promised;
-and the experiment was repeated that night, with the same result.
-After that the subject dropped for a time.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But if Dan's organ of adhesiveness--which, phrenologically, means
-affection, friendship, attachment--was large, it was scarcely more
-powerful than his organ of concentrativeness. His love for Joshua was
-perfect. He knew that Joshua's choice of a pursuit would separate him
-from his friend. When he said to Joshua, &quot;I shall live in you, Jo,&quot;
-the words conveyed the expression of no light feeling, but of a deep
-earnest longing and desire to be always with his friend--to be always
-with him, although oceans divided them. If no misfortune had befallen
-him, if his limbs had been sound and his body strong, Dan would have
-been intellectually superior to boys in the same station of life as
-himself. Debarred as he was from their amusements, their anxieties,
-and their general ways of life he was thrown, as it were, upon his
-intellect for consolation. It brought him, by the blessing of God,
-such consolation that his misfortune might have been construed into a
-thing to be coveted. There is good in every thing.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">All Dan's sympathies were with Joshua. Dan admired him for his
-determination, for his desire to be better than his fellows. It was
-Dan who first declared that Joshua was to be a hero; and Joshua
-accepted Dan's dictum with complacency. It threw a halo of romance
-around his determination not to be a wood-turner, and not to do as his
-father had done before him. The reader, from these remarks, or the
-incidents that follow, may now or presently understand why the
-wildly-vague essay on the &quot;Philosophy of Dreams; or the Triumph of
-Mind over Matter,&quot; took Dan's mind prisoner and so infatuated him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Referring to the book again, after the failure of the experiments upon
-his organ of combativeness, Dan found a few simple directions by which
-the reader could test, in a minor degree, the power of the mind over
-the sleeping body. One of the most simple was this: A person, before
-he goes to sleep, must resolutely make up his mind to wake at a
-certain hour in the morning. He must say to himself, &quot;I want to wake
-at five o'clock--at five o'clock--at five o'clock; I <i>will</i> awake at
-five o'clock--I will--I will--I will!&quot; and continue to repeat the
-words and the determination over and over again until he fell asleep,
-with the resolve firmly fixed in his mind. If you do this, said the
-writer, you will awake at five o'clock. Dan tried this experiment the
-same night--and failed. He repeated it the following night, and the
-night following that, with the same result. His sleep was disturbed,
-but that was all. But on the fourth night matters were different. Five
-o'clock was the hour Dan fixed upon, and nothing was more certain than
-that on the fourth night Dan woke up at the precise moment. There were
-two churches in the immediate neighborhood, and, as he woke, Dan heard
-the first church-bell toll the hour. One, two, three, four, five. Each
-stroke of the bell was followed by a dismal hum of woful tribulation.
-Then the other church-bell struck the hour, and each stroke of that
-was followed by a cheerful ring, bright and crisp and clear. Dan
-smiled and hugged himself, and went to sleep again, cherishing wild
-hopes which he dared not confess even to himself. He tried the
-experiment on the following night, fixing on a different time,
-half-past three. Undaunted by that and many other failures, he tried
-again and again, until one night he awoke when it was dark. He waited
-anxiously to hear the clocks strike. It seemed to be a very long
-half-hour, but the church-bell struck at last. One, two, three, four.
-With a droning sound at the end of each stroke, as if a myriad bees,
-imprisoned in a cell, were giving vent to a long-sustained and
-simultaneous groan of entreaty to be set free; or as if the bell were
-wailing for the hour that was dead. Then the joyous church-bell struck
-One, two, three, four. A wedding-peal in each stroke; sparkling,
-although invisible, like stars in a clear sky on a frosty night.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan went to sleep, almost perfectly happy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He repeated his experiment every night, until he had a very nearly
-perfect command over sleep as far as regarded time, and could wake
-almost at any hour he desired. Then he took a forward step. While
-playing with his birds he said, &quot;To-night I will dream of you.&quot; But the
-thought intervened that he had often dreamed of the birds and that to
-dream of them that night would not be very remarkable. So he said,
-&quot;No, I will not dream of the birds that are living; I will dream of
-Golden Cloud.&quot; It was a long time now since Golden Cloud had been
-buried, but Dan had never forgotten his pet. When he went to bed he
-said, &quot;I will dream of Golden Cloud--a pleasant dream.&quot; And he dwelt
-upon his wish, and expressed it in words, again and again. That night
-he dreamed of Golden Cloud, and of its pretty tricks; of its growing
-old and shaky; of its death and burial. Then he saw something that he
-had never seen before. He saw it lying quite contented and happy at
-the bottom of its flower-pot coffin, and when he chirruped to it, it
-chirruped in return.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He told his dream to Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have dreamed of Golden Cloud a good many times,&quot; said Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But I made up my mind especially to dream of Golden Cloud,&quot; said Dan,
-&quot;and I dreamed of it the same night. At other times, my dreaming of it
-was not premeditated. It came in the usual way of dreams.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What do you want me to believe from all this Dan?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That, as the author of that book says, you can dream of any thing you
-wish. I scarcely dare believe that I shall be able to dream of what I
-shall most desire by and by. By and by, Jo,&quot; he repeatedly sadly,
-&quot;when you and me are parted.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua threw his arms around Dan's neck.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you are doing all this, dear Dan, because you want to dream of
-me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And because I want to be with you, Jo, and to see things that you
-see, and never, never to be parted from you.&quot; The wistful tears ran
-down Dan's cheek as he said these words.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It would be very wonderful,&quot; said Joshua; &quot;almost too wonderful. And
-I shall think, 'Dan is here with me, although I cannot see him.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Listen again to what he says, Jo,&quot; said Dan, opening the &quot;Triumph of
-Mind over Matter.&quot; &quot;A person can so command and control his mental
-forces as to train himself to dream of events that are actually taking
-place at a distance from him, at the precise moment they occur.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And that is what you want to do when I am away, Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is what I want to do when you are away, dear Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am positive you can't do it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why? I dreamed of Golden Cloud when I wanted to.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can understand that. But how did you dream of Golden Cloud, Dan?
-You dreamed of him as if he was alive&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;At first I did; but afterwards I saw him in the flower-pot, dead.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And Golden Cloud chirruped to you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Think again, Dan. Golden Cloud was dead, and Golden Cloud chirruped
-to you!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Jo,&quot; faltered Dan, beginning to understand the drift of Joshua's
-remarks.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is not dreaming of things as they are, Dan,&quot; said Joshua gently,
-taking Dan's hand and patting it. &quot;If you could dream of Golden Cloud
-as he is now, you would see nothing of him but a few bones--feathers
-and flesh all turned to clay. Not a chirrup in him, Dan dear, not a
-chirrup!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan covered his eyes with his hand, and the tears came through his
-fingers, But he soon recovered himself.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are right, Jo,&quot; he said: &quot;yet I'm not quite wrong. The man who
-wrote that book knew things, depend upon it. He was not a fool. <i>I</i>
-was, to think I could do such wonders in so short a time.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan showed, in the last sentence, that he did not intend to relinquish
-his desire. He said nothing more about it, however, and in a few
-minutes the pair of bullfinches were on the table in a little cage,
-whistling, &quot;Rule, Britannia,&quot; the high notes of which one of the birds
-took with consummate ease.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER V.</h4>
-
-<h5>JOSHUA MAKES UP HIS MIND TO GO TO SEA.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Who was the Old Sailor?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Simply an old sailor. Having been a very young sailor indeed once upon
-a time, a great many years ago now, when, quite a little boy, he ran
-away from home and went to sea out of sheer love for blue water. In
-those times many boys did just the same thing, but that kind of boyish
-romance has been gradually dying away, and is now almost dead. Steam
-has washed off a great deal of its bright coloring. The taste of the
-salt spray grew so sweet to the young sailor's mouth, and the sight of
-the ocean--the waters of which were not always blue, as he had
-imagined--grew so dear to his eyes, that every thing else became as
-naught to him. And so, faithful to his first love, he had grown from a
-young sailor to an old sailor. At the present time he was living in a
-rusty coal-barge, moored near the Tower stairs; and, although he could
-see land and houses on the other side of the water, there was a curl
-in his great nostrils as if he were smelling the sweet salt spray of
-the sea, and a staring look in his great blue eyes, as if the grand
-ocean were before him instead of a dirty river. He was a short
-thick-set man, and his face was deeply indented with small-pox;
-indeed, so marked were the impressions which that disease had left
-upon him, that his face looked for all the world like a conglomeration
-of miniature salt-cellars. His name was Praiseworthy Meddler. The sea
-was his world--the land was of no importance whatever. Not only was
-the land of no importance in his eyes, but it was a place to be
-despised, and the people who inhabited it were an inferior race. From
-him did Joshua Marvel learn of the glories and the wonders of the
-ocean, and from him came Joshua's inspiration to be a sailor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For Joshua had settled upon the road which was to lead him to fame and
-fortune. By the time that he had made up his mind what was to be his
-future walk in life, most other lads in the parish of Stepney of the
-same age and condition as himself were already at work at different
-businesses, and had already commenced mounting that ladder which led
-almost always to an average of something less than thirty-two
-shillings a week for the natural term of their lives. Although, up to
-this period of his life, Joshua's career had been a profitless one, as
-far as earning money was concerned, his time had not been thrown away.
-The tastes he had acquired were innocent and good, and were destined
-to bear good fruit in the future. The boyish friendship he had formed
-was of incalculable value to him; for it was undoubtedly due, in a
-great measure, to that association that Joshua was kept from contact
-with bad companions. He had not yet given evidence of the possession
-of decided character, except what might be gathered from a certain
-quiet determination of will inherited from his mother, but stronger in
-him than in her because of his sex, and from a certain unswerving
-affection for any thing he loved. A phrenologist, examining his head,
-would probably have found that the organs of firmness and adhesiveness
-predominated over all his other faculties; and for the rest, something
-very much as follows. (Let it be understood that no attempt is here
-being made to give a perfect analysis of Joshua's faculties, but that
-mention is only being made of those organs which may help to explain,
-if they be remembered by the reader, and if there be any truth in
-phrenology, certain circumstances connected with Joshua's career, the
-consequences of which may have been varied in another man.) Well,
-then, adhesiveness and firmness very large; the first of which will
-account for his strong attachment for Dan, and the second for his
-determination, notwithstanding his mother's efforts, not to
-take to wood-turning nor any other trade, but to start in
-life for himself: Inhabitiveness very small; and as inhabitiveness
-means a tendency to dwell in one place, the want of that faculty
-will account for his desire to roam. All his moral and religious
-faculties--such as benevolence, wonder, veneration, and
-conscientiousness--were large; what are understood as the
-semi-intellectual sentiments--constructiveness, imitation and
-mirthfulness--he possessed only in a moderate degree; but one,
-ideality, was largely developed. Four of his intellectual
-faculties--individuality, language, eventuality, and time--call for
-especial notice: they were all very small, the smallest of them being
-eventuality, the especial function of which is a memory of events.
-Mention being made that his organs of color and tune were large, this
-brief analysis of Joshua's phrenological development is completed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For the purpose of fitting himself for his future career, Joshua had
-lately spent a great deal of his time at the waterside, and in the
-course of a few months' experience in boats and barges on the River
-Thames, had made himself perfectly familiar with all the dangers of
-the sea. Praiseworthy Meddler had a great deal to do with Joshua's
-resolve. His attention had been directed to the quiet well-behaved
-lad, who came down so often to the waterside, and who sat gazing, with
-unformed thoughts, upon the river. Not upon the other side of it,
-where tumble-down wharves and melancholy walls were, but along the
-course of it, as far as its winding form would allow him to do so.
-Then his imagination followed the river, and gave it pleasanter banks
-and broader, until he could scarcely see any banks at all, so wide had
-the river grown; then he followed it farther still, until it merged
-into an ocean of waters, in which were crowded all the wonders he had
-read of in books of travel and adventure: wastes of sea, calm and
-grand in sunlight and in moonlight; fire following the ship at night,
-fire in the waters, as if millions of fire-fish had rushed up from the
-depths to oppose the wooden monster which ploughed them through;
-shoals of porpoises, sharks, whales, and all the wondrous breathing
-life in the mighty waters; curling waves lifting up the ship, which
-afterwards glides down into the valleys: blood moons, and such a
-wealth of stars in the heavens, and such feather-fringed azure clouds
-as made the heart beat to think of them; storms, too--dark waters
-seething and hissing, thunder awfully pealing, lightning flashes
-cutting the heavens open, and darting into the sea and cutting that
-with keen blades of light, then all darker than it was before: all
-these pictures came to Joshua's mind as, with eager eyes and clasped
-hands, he sat gazing at the dirty river. He held his breath as the
-storm-pictures came, but there was no terror in them; bright or dark,
-every thing he saw was tinged with the romance of youthful imagining.
-Praiseworthy Meddler spoke first to Joshua, divined his wish,
-encouraged it, told the lad stories of his own experience, and told
-them with such heartiness and enthusiasm, and made such a light matter
-of shipwreck and such like despondencies, that Joshua's aspirations
-grew and grew until he could no longer keep them to himself. And, of
-course, to whom should he first unbosom himself in plain terms but to
-his more than brother, Dan?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He disclosed his intentions in this manner: he was playing and singing
-'Tom Bowling,' the words of which he had learned from old
-Praiseworthy. He sang the song through to the end, and Dan repeated
-the last two lines,--</p>
-<br>
-<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:smaller">
-<p style="text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">
-&quot;For though his body's under hatches,
-His soul is gone aloft.&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>My</i> body has been under hatches today, Dan,&quot; said
-Joshua, &quot;although
-I wasn't in the same condition as poor Tom Bowling. I dare say,&quot; with
-a furtive look at Dan, &quot;that I shall often be under hatches.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah!&quot; said Dan. He knew what was coming.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The Old Sailor has been telling me such stories, Dan! What do you
-think? He was taken by a pirate-ship once, and served with them for
-three months.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As a pirate?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; he has been a pirate. Isn't that glorious? It was an awful
-thing, though; the ship he was in--a merchantman--saw the pirate-ship
-giving chase. They tried to get away, but the pirates had a ship twice
-as good as theirs, and soon overhauled them. Then the grappling-irons
-were thrown, and the pirates swarmed into the merchantman, and there
-was a terrible fight. Those who were not killed were taken on board
-the pirate-ship, the Old Sailor among the rest. There were three women
-with them, and O Dan! would you believe it?--those devils, the
-pirates, killed them every one, men and women too, and threw them
-overboard--killed every one of them but the Old Sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How was it that he was saved, Jo?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is a thing he never could make out, he says. It turned him sick
-to see the pirates slashing away with their cutlasses, but when they
-came to the women he was almost mad. He was bound to a mast by a
-strong rope, and when he saw a woman's face turned to him and looking
-at him imploringly, although her eyes were almost blinded by blood&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh!&quot; cried Dan with a shudder, as if he could see the dreadful
-picture.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It was a woman who had had a kind word for every one on the
-merchant-ship--a lady she was, and everybody loved her,&quot; continued
-Joshua, with kindling eyes and clinched fists. &quot;When the Old Sailor
-saw her looking at him, he gave a yell, and actually broke the rope
-that bound him. But a dozen pirates had him down on the deck the next
-moment. He fought with them, and called out to them, 'Kill me, you
-devils!' You should hear the Old Sailor tell the story, Dan! 'Kill me,
-you devils!' he cried out, and he grappled with them, and hurt some of
-them. You may guess that they were too many for him. They bound him in
-such a zig-zag of ropes--round his neck and legs and back and
-arms--that he couldn't move, and they kicked him into a corner. There
-he lay, with his eyes shut, and heard the shrieks of his poor
-companions, and the splashes in the water as their bodies were thrown
-overboard. After that there was a great silence. 'Now it is my turn,'
-he said to himself, and he bit his tongue, so that he should not
-scream out. But it wasn't his turn; some of the pirates came about
-him, and talked in a lingo he couldn't understand, and when he thought
-they were going to slash at him, they went away, and left him lying on
-the deck alive! He lay there all night, dozing now and then, and,
-waking up in awful fright; for every time he dozed, he fancied that he
-heard the screams of the poor people who had been killed, and that he
-saw the bloody face of the poor lady he had tried to save. They didn't
-give him any thing to eat or drink all night; all they gave him was
-kicks. 'Then,' said the Old Sailor, 'they're going to starve me!' If
-he could have moved, he would have thrown himself into the sea, but he
-was too securely tied. Well, in the morning, the captain, who could
-speak a little English, came and ordered that the ropes should be
-loosened. 'Now's my time,' said the Old Sailor, and he felt quite
-glad, Dan, he says; and he says, too, that he felt as if he could have
-died happy if they had given him a chew of tobacco. 'Open your eyes,
-pig of an Englishman!' cried the captain, for the Old Sailor kept his
-eyes shut all the time. 'I sha'n't, pig of the devil!' roared the Old
-Sailor; but, without meaning it, he did open his eyes. 'Look here,
-pig,' said the captain, 'you are a strong man, and you ought to be a
-good sailor.' 'I'd show you what sort of a sailor I am, if you would
-cut these infernal'&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O Jo!&quot; said Dan, with a warning finger to his lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is what the Old Sailor said, Dan,&quot; continued Joshua. &quot;'I'd show
-you what sort of a sailor I am, if you would cut these--you know
-what--ropes, and give me a cutlass or a marlin-spike!' But the captain
-only laughed at him; and said, 'Now, pig, listen. You will either do
-one of two things. You will either be one of us'-- 'Turn pirate!'
-cried the Old Sailor; 'no, I'll be--you know what, Dan--if I do!'
-'Very well, pig,' said the captain; 'refuse, and you shall be cut to
-pieces, finger by finger, and every limb of you. I give you an hour,
-pig, to think of it.' The Old Sailor says that, if he had had a bit of
-tobacco, he would have chosen to be killed, even in that dreadful
-manner, rather than consent to join them. He never in all his life
-longed so for a thing as he longed then for a quid, as he calls it. It
-made him mad to see the dark devils chewing their tobacco as they
-worked. 'Anyhow,' he thought, 'I may as well live as be killed. I
-shall get a chance of escape one day.' So when the hour was up, and
-the captain came, the Old Sailor told him that he would oblige them by
-not being chopped into mince-meat, if they would give him a chew of
-tobacco. They gave it to him, and unbound him; and that is the way he
-became a pirate.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And how did he get away, Jo?&quot; asked Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is wonderful, too,&quot; continued Joshua. &quot;He was with them for
-three months, and saw strange things and bad things, but never took
-part in them. They tried to force him to do as they did, but he
-wouldn't. And he made himself so useful to them, and worked so hard,
-that it wasn't to their interest to get rid of him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I think the Old Sailor must be a little bit of a hero, Jo,&quot;
-interrupted Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua laughed heartily at this. &quot;You will not say so when you see
-him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why? I suppose he is ugly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua raised his hand expressively.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And weather-beaten, and all that&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And knows,&quot; said Joshua, still laughing, &quot;'Which is Saturday, Sunday,
-Monday?'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Still he may be a hero--not like you, Jo, because you will be
-handsome.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think so?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">If by some strange chance a picture of Joshua, as he was to be one
-day, had presented itself to the lads, how they would have wondered
-and marvelled as to what could have been the youth of such a man as
-they saw before them! Look at Joshua now, as he is sitting by Dan's
-side. A handsome open-faced lad, full of kindly feeling, and with the
-reflex of a generous loving nature beaming in his eyes. Honest face,
-bright eyes, laughing mouth that could be serious, strong limbs, head
-covered with curls--a beautiful picture of happy boyhood. But no more
-surprising miracle could have occurred to Dan than to see Joshua, as
-he saw him then sitting by his side, and then to see the shadow of
-what was to come.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think so?&quot; and Joshua laughingly repeated the question.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do I think so&quot; said Dan, gazing with pride at his friend. &quot;O Mr.
-Vanity! as if you didn't know!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua, laughing more than ever, protested that he had never given it
-a thought, and promised that he would take a good long look at himself
-in the glass that very night. At the rate the lads were going on, it
-appeared as if the Old Sailor's story would never be completed, and so
-Daniel said, to put a stop to Joshua's nonsense.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is all your fault, Dan,&quot; said Joshua, &quot;because you <i>will</i>
-interrupt. Well, when the Old Sailor had been in the ship for three
-months, it was attacked by a cruiser which had been hunting it down
-for a long time. All the pirates were taken--the Old Sailor and
-all--and sold as slaves at Algiers. They wouldn't believe his story
-about his not being a pirate, and he was sold for a slave with the
-rest of them. He worked in chains in the fields for a good many
-weeks--he doesn't remember how many--until Lord Exmouth bombarded the
-forts, and put a stop to Christian slavery. And that is the Old
-Sailor's pirate-story.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And now to return to what we were saying before you commenced,&quot; said
-Dan. Joshua placed his hands at the back of his head, and interlacing
-his fingers, looked seriously at Dan, and drew a long breath: &quot;You
-have something to tell me, Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have,&quot; said Joshua. &quot;I have made up my mind what I am going to be.
-You can guess if you like.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have no need to guess, Jo, dear; I know, I have seen it all along.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is it, then?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are going to sea,&quot; said Dan, striving to speak in a cheerful
-voice, but failing.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I shall go to sea;&quot; and Joshua drew another long breath. &quot;How
-did you find it out, Dan the Wise?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How did I find it out, Jo the Simple? Haven't I seen it in your eyes
-for ever so long? Haven't you been telling me so every day? It might
-escape others' notice, but not mine.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I told the Old Sailor to-day, and he clapped me on the back, and said
-I was a brave fellow. But he knew it all along, too, he said. And he
-took me into his cabin--such a cabin, Dan--and poured out a tiny glass
-of rum, and made me drink it. My throat was on fire for an hour
-afterwards.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Have you told mother and father?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Tell them at once, Jo. Go home now, and tell them. I want to be left
-alone to think of it. O Jo! and I am going to lose you!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan had tried hard to control himself, but he now burst into a passion
-of weeping; and it is a fact, notwithstanding that they were both big
-boys, that their heads the next moment were so close together that
-Dan's tears rolled down both their faces. Joshua's heart was as full
-as Dan's, and he ran out of the room more to lessen Dan's grief than
-his own.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Thus it fell out that in the evening, when the members of the Marvel
-family, variously occupied, were sitting at the kitchen fire, Joshua
-said suddenly to his relatives,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should like to go to sea.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">George Marvel was smoking a long clay-pipe; Mrs. Marvel was darning a
-pair of worsted stockings, in which scarcely a vestige of their
-original structure was left; and Sarah Marvel was busily engaged in a
-writing-lesson, in the execution of which she was materially assisted
-by her tongue, which, hanging its full length out of her mouth, was
-making occasional excursions to the corners of her lips. George Marvel
-took the pipe from his lips and looked at the fire meditatively; Mrs.
-Marvel burst into tears, and let the worsted stocking, with the needle
-sticking in it, drop into her lap; and Sarah Marvel, casting a
-doubtful look at her writing-lesson, every letter in which appeared to
-be possessed with a peculiar species of drunkenness, removed her eyes
-to her brother's face, upon which she gazed with wonder and
-admiration. So engrossed was she in the contemplation, that she put
-the inky part of the pen into her mouth, and sucked at it in sheer
-absence of mind.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't cry, mother,&quot; said George Marvel. &quot;What was that you said,
-Josh?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should like to go to sea, father.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah!&quot; ejaculated Mr. Marvel thoughtfully, looking steadily into the
-fire.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua was also looking into the fire, and he saw in it, as plain as
-plain could be, a fiery ship, full-rigged, with fiery ropes and fiery
-sails, and saw himself, Joshua Marvel, standing on the poop, dressed
-in gold-laced coat and gold-laced cocked-hat, with a telescope in his
-hand. For Joshua, without the slightest idea as to how it was all to
-come about, had made up his mind that he was to be a captain, dressed
-as Nelson was in a picture which was one of Praiseworthy Meddler's
-prize possessions, and which occupied the place of honor in the Old
-Sailor's cabin. While this vision was before Joshua Mrs. Marvel
-continued to cry, but in a more subdued manner.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And so you want to be sailor, Josh?&quot; queried Mr. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes. A sailor first, and then a captain.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The intermediate grades were of too small importance to be considered.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am sure, Josh,&quot; said Mrs. Marvel, crying all the while, &quot;I don't
-see what you want to go away for. Why don't you make up your mind even
-now to apprentice yourself to father's trade and be contented? You
-might get a little shop of your own in time, if you worked very hard,
-and it would be pleasant for all of us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You be quiet, mother,&quot; said Mr. Marvel. &quot;What do women know about
-these things? I'm Joshua's father, I believe&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, George, I believe you are,&quot; sobbed Mrs. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And, as Joshua's father, I tell you again, once and for all, that
-he's not going to be a wood-turner. Here's the old subject come up
-again with a vengeance! I wish a woman's clothes were like a woman's
-ideas; then they would never wear out. A wood-turner! A pretty thing a
-wood-turner is! I've been a wood-turner all my life, and what better
-off am I for it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am sure, father, we have been very happy,&quot; said Mrs. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am not saying any thing about that,&quot; observed Mr. Marvel,
-expressing in his voice a very small regard for domestic happiness,
-although, in reality, no man better appreciated it. &quot;What I say is,
-I've been a wood-turner all my life; and what I ask is, what better
-off am I, or you, or any of us, for it? If Josh likes to be a
-wood-turner, he can; I have nothing to say against it, except that
-he's been a precious long time making up his mind. And if he likes to
-be a sailor, he can; I have nothing to say against that. I'm Joshua's
-father, and, as Joshua's father, I say if Josh likes to make a start
-in life for himself as a sailor, let him. If I was Josh, I would do
-the same myself.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, father,&quot; said Joshua. &quot;And, mother, if you only heard what
-Mr. Praiseworthy Meddler says of the sea, you would think very
-differently; I know you would.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Mrs. Marvel shook her head and would not be comforted.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My father was a wood-turner,&quot; said Mr. Marvel, &quot;and he made me a
-wood-turner. He never asked me whether I would or I wouldn't, and I
-didn't have a choice. If he had have asked me, perhaps we shouldn't
-have gone on pinching and pinching all our lives. Now Joshua's
-different; he's got his choice: never forget, Josh, that it was your
-father who gave you the world to pick from--and I think he's acting
-sensibly, as I should have done if <i>my</i> father had given me the
-chance. But he didn't, and it's too late for a man with his head full
-of white hairs to commence life all over again.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And Mr. Marvel fell to smoking his pipe again, and studying the fire.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I've never seen the sea myself,&quot; he presently resumed; &quot;but I've read
-of it, and heard talk of it. There are better lands across the seas
-than Stepney, for a youngster like Josh. There are lots of chances,
-too; and who knows what may happen?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's where it is, father,&quot; whimpered Mrs. Marvel; &quot;we don't know
-what might happen. Suppose Josh is shipwrecked; what would you say
-then? You'd lie awake night after night, father--you know you
-would--and wish he had been a wood-turner. I've never seen the sea,
-and I never want to; I've been happy enough without it. It's like
-flying in the face of Providence. And what's to become of us when we
-are old, if Josh can't take care of us?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Just so, mother. Listen to me, and be sensible. Suppose Josh becomes
-a wood-turner; he can't expect to do better than his father has done.
-I am not a bad workman myself; and though Josh might make as good, I
-don't think he'd make a better. Now what I say again is--and it's
-wonderful what a many times a man has to say a thing before he can
-drive it into a woman's head, if she ain't willing--although I'm a
-good workman what better off am I for it? And what better off would
-Josh be for it, when he gets to be as old as I am? We've commenced to
-lay by a good many times--haven't we, Maggie?--but we never could keep
-on with it. First a bit of sickness took it; then a bit of furniture
-that we couldn't do without took it; then a rise in bread and meat
-took it; and then a bit of something else took it. You've been a good
-woman to me, Maggie, and you've pinched all you could for twenty
-years; and what has come of all your pinching? There's that old teapot
-you used to lay by in. It's at the back of the cupboard now, and it
-hasn't had a shilling in it for I don't know when's the time. It would
-be full of dust, mother, only you don't like dust; and a good job too.
-But it ain't your fault that it isn't full of something better; and it
-ain't my fault. It's all because I've been a wood-turner all my days.
-And the upshot of it is, that we're not a bit better off now than we
-were twenty years ago. We're worse off; for we've spent twenty good
-years and got nothing for them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We've got Josh and Sarah,&quot; Mrs. Marvel ventured to say. The simple
-woman actually regarded those possessions as of inestimable value--but
-that is the way of a great many foolish mothers.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Her husband did not heed the remark. He took another pull at his pipe,
-but drew no smoke from it. His pipe was out; but in his earnestness he
-puffed away at nothing, and continued,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who is to take care of us, you want to know, when we grow old, if
-Josh don't. When Josh grows up, Josh will get married, naturally.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So shall I, father,&quot; interrupted Sarah, who was listening with the
-deepest interest to the conversation.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps, Sarah,&quot; said Mr. Marvel a little dubiously. &quot;Girls ain't
-like boys; they can't pick and choose. Josh will get married,
-naturally; and Josh will have children, naturally. Perhaps he'll have
-two; perhaps he'll have six.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mrs. Pigeon's got thirteen,&quot; remarked Sarah vivaciously.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Be quiet, Sarah. Where did you learn manners? Now if Josh has six
-children, and, being a wood-turner, doesn't do any better as a
-wood-turner than his father has done--and he's a presumptuous young
-beggar if he thinks he's going to do better than me&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't think so, father,&quot; said Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind. And he's a presumptuous young beggar if he thinks he's
-going to do better than me,&quot; Mr. Marvel repeated; he relished
-the roll of the words--&quot;what's to become of us then? Josh, if he's a
-wood-turner with six children, can't be expected to keep his old
-father and mother. He will have enough to do as it is. But if Josh
-strikes out for himself, who knows what may happen? He may do this, or
-he may do that; and then we shall be all right.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There was not the shadow of a doubt that in that house the gray mare
-was the worse horse, in defiance of the old adage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And as to Joshua's being shipwrecked,&quot; continued Mr. Marvel, &quot;you
-know as well as I do, mother, that it would be enough to break my
-heart. But I don't believe there's more danger on the sea than on the
-land. There was Bill Brackett run over yesterday by a brewer's dray,
-and three of his ribs broken. You don't get run over by a brewer's
-dray at sea. And what occurred to William Small a month ago? He was
-walking along as quiet and inoffensive as could be, when a brick from
-a scaffold fell upon his head, and knocked every bit of sense clean
-out of him. They don't build brick houses on the sea. Why, it might
-have happened to me, or you, or Josh!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Or me, father,&quot; cried Sarah, not at all pleased at being deprived of
-the chance of being knocked on the head by a brick.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Or you, Sarah. So, mother, don't let us have any more talk about
-shipwrecks.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But if Josh <i>does</i> get shipwrecked, father,&quot; persisted Mrs. Marvel,
-&quot;remember that I warned you beforehand.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But Josh is not going to get shipwrecked,&quot; exclaimed Mr. Marvel,
-slightly raising his voice determined not to tolerate domestic
-insubordination; &quot;therefore, hold your tongue, and say nothing more
-about it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There was one privilege for the possession of which Mr. Marvel, had
-fought many a hard battle in the early days of his married life, and
-which he now believed he possessed by right of conquest; that was the
-privilege of having the last word. To all outward appearance Mrs.
-Marvel respected this privilege; but in reality she set it at
-defiance. It was a deceptive victory that he had gained; for if he had
-the last audible word, Mrs. Marvel had the last inaudible one. Woman
-is a long-suffering creature; she endures much with patience and
-resignation; but to yield the last word to a man is a sacrifice too
-great for her to make. There are, no doubt, instances of such
-sacrifice; but they are very rare. Many precious oblations had Mrs.
-Marvel made in the course of her married life; but she had not
-sacrificed the last word upon the domestic altar. True it was always
-whispered inly, under her breath; but it was hers nevertheless; and
-she exulted in it. When a woman cannot get what she wants by hook, she
-gets it by crook, depend upon it. For twenty years had the Marvels
-lived together man and wife; and during all that time Mr. Marvel had
-never known, that in every family conversation and discussion his wife
-had invariably obtained the victory of the last word; although
-sometimes a half-triumphant look in her eyes had caused him to doubt.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So, upon this occasion, notwithstanding the decided tone in which her
-husband had closed the conversation, Mrs. Marvel bent her head over
-her worsted stocking, and whispered to herself, half tearfully and
-half triumphantly,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But if Josh <i>does</i> get shipwrecked, father, don't forget that I
-warned you beforehand.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER VI.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE ACTOR AND HIS DAUGHTER.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">THAT night, as Joshua was lying half-awake and half-asleep,
-his mind
-being filled with pleasant sea-pictures, he was surprised to hear his
-bedroom-door creak. Without moving in his bed, he turned his eyes
-towards the door, and, in the indistinct light, he saw his mother
-enter the room. She opened the door very softly, as if fearful of
-disturbing him, and she paused for a moment or two in the open space,
-with her hand raised in a listening attitude. Joshua saw that she
-believed him to be asleep, and he closed his eyes as she approached
-the bed. Her movements were so quiet, that he did not know she was
-close to him, until she gently took his hand and placed it to her
-lips. Then he knew that she was kneeling by his bedside, and knew
-also, by a moisture on his hand, that she was crying. His heart
-yearned to her, but he did not move. He heard her whisper, &quot;God
-protect you, my son!&quot; Then his hand, wet with his mother's tears, was
-released, and when he re-opened his eyes, she was gone.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Poor mother!&quot; he thought. &quot;She is unhappy because I am going to sea.
-I will ask the Old Sailor to come and tell her what a glorious thing
-the sea is. Perhaps that will make her more comfortable in her mind.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He acted upon his resolution the very next day, and his efforts were
-successful. In the evening, he wended his way homewards from the
-waterside, in a state of ineffable satisfaction because the Old Sailor
-had promised to come to Stepney, for the express purpose of proving to
-Mrs. Marvel how superior in every respect the sea was to the land, and
-what a wise thing Joshua had done in making up his mind to be a
-sailor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The lad was in an idle happy humor as he walked down a narrow street,
-at no great distance from his home. It differed in no respect from the
-other common streets in the common neighborhood. All its
-characteristics were familiar to him. The sad-looking one-story brick
-houses; the slatternly girls nursing babies, whose name was legion;
-the troops of children of various ages and in various stages of
-dirtiness, one of their most distinguishing insignia being the yawning
-condition of their boots, there not being a sound boot-lace among the
-lot of them; and here and there the melancholy and desponding shops
-where sweet stuff and cheap provisions were sold. Joshua walked down
-this poor woe-begone street, making it bright with his bright fancies,
-when his attention was suddenly aroused by the occurrence of something
-unusual near the bottom of the street.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A large crowd of boys and girls and women was gathered around a
-person, who was gesticulating and declaiming with startling
-earnestness. Pushing his way through the throng, Joshua saw before him
-a tall, spare man, with light hair hanging down to his shoulders. So
-long and waving was his hair, that it might have belonged to a woman.
-His gaunt and furrowed face was as smooth as a woman's, and his mouth
-was large, as were also his teeth, which were peculiarly white and
-strong. But what most arrested attention were his eyes; they were of a
-light-gray color, large even for his large face, and they had a
-wandering look in them strangely at variance with the sense of power
-and firmness that dwelt in every other feature. He was acting the
-Ghost scenes in &quot;Hamlet;&quot; in his hand was a wooden sword, which he
-sheathed in his ragged coat, and drew and flourished when occasion
-needed. His fine voice, now deep as a man's, now tender as a woman's,
-expressed all the passions, and expressed them well. In the library
-which Dan and Joshua possessed there was an odd volume of Shakspeare's
-works, and when the street-actor said, in a melancholy dreamy tone,--</p>
-<br>
-<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:smaller">
-<p style="text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">&quot;It waves me
-still:--go on, I'll follow thee,&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p class="continue">Joshua remembered (as much from the intelligent action of
-the actor as
-from the words themselves) that it was a Ghost whom Hamlet was
-addressing. The words were so impressively spoken, that Joshua almost
-fancied he saw a Shade before the man's uplifted hand. Then, when
-Hamlet cried,--</p>
-<div style="margin-left:50%; font-size:smaller">
-<br>
-<p style="text-indent:0; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">&quot;My fate cries
-out,<br>
-<p style="text-indent:-40%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">And makes each
-petty artery in this body<br>
-<p style="text-indent:-40%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.<br>
-<p style="text-indent:-40%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Still am I called. Unhand me, gentlemen!&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p class="continue">(struggling with his visionary opponents and breaking from them, and
-drawing his wooden sword)</p>
-<br>
-<p class="continue" style="font-size:smaller; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">
-&quot;By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me!<br>
-I say, away! Go on, I'll follow thee;&quot;</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="continue">Joshua experienced a thrill of emotion that only the representation of
-true passion could have excited. As the man uttered the last words,
-Joshua heard a shuddering sigh close to him. Turning his head, he saw
-Susan, whose face was a perfect encyclopædia of wondering and
-terrified admiration.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who is he following, Joshua?&quot; she asked in a whisper, clutching him
-by the sleeve.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The Ghost! Hush!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The Ghost!&quot; (with a violent shudder.) &quot;Where?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua pressed her hand, and warned her to be silent, so as not to
-disturb the man. Susan held his hand tightly in hers, and obeyed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Ghost that the actor saw in his mind's eye was standing behind
-Susan. The man advanced a step in that direction, and stood with
-outstretched sword, gazing at the airy nothing. Susan trembled in
-every limb as the man glared over her shoulder, and she was frightened
-to move her head, lest she should see the awful vision whose presence
-was palpable to her senses. The man had commenced the platform-scene,
-where Hamlet says, &quot;Speak; I'll go no further;&quot; and the Ghost says,
-&quot;Mark me!&quot; when a tumult took place. At the words, &quot;Mark me!&quot; a
-vicious boy picked up a piece of mud, and threw it at the man's face,
-with the words, &quot;Now you're marked;&quot; at which several of the boys and
-girls laughed and clapped their hands. The actor made no answer, but,
-seizing the boy by the shoulder held him fast and proceeded with the
-scene. The boy tried to wriggle himself away, but at every fresh
-attempt the man's grasp tightened, until, thoroughly desperate, the
-boy broke into open rebellion.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal" style="font-size:smaller; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px"><i>Actor</i>. Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand
-Of life, of crown, of queen, at once despatched.</p>
-<br>
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px"><i>Boy</i> (<i>struggling violently</i>). Just you let me go, will you?</p>
-<br>
-<p class="normal" style="font-size:smaller; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px"><i>Actor</i>. Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin,
-Unhousel'd, disappointed, unaneal'd.</p>
-<br>
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px"><i>Boy</i> (<i>beginning to cry</i>). Come now, let me go will you? You're a
-hurting of me! Let me go you--(<i>bad words</i>).</p>
-<br>
-<p class="normal" style="margin-left:10%; text-indent:-5%; font-size:smaller; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px"><i>Actor</i> (<i>calm and indifferent</i>). No reckoning made, but sent to my
-account,</p>
-<p class="continue" style="font-size:smaller; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">With all my imperfections on my head.</p>
-<br>
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px"><i>A girl's voice</i>. Pinch him, Billy!<br>
-
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px"><i>A boy's voice</i>. Kick him, Billy!</p>
-
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px;">Billy did both, but the actor continued.</p>
-<br>
-<p class="continue" style="font-size:smaller; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px"><i>Actor</i>. Oh, horrible! Oh, horrible! Most horrible!</p>
-<br>
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px"><i>Billy</i>. Throw a stone at him, some one!</p>
-<br>
-<p class="continue" style="font-size:smaller; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px"><i>Actor</i> (<i>sublimely unconscious</i>). If thou hast nature in thee, bear
-it not.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A stone was thrown; and as if this were a signal for a general attack,
-a shower of stones was hurled at the actor. One of them hit him on the
-forehead; hit him so badly that he staggered, and, releasing his hold
-of Billy, raised his hand to his head, while an expression of pain
-passed into his face. Hooting and yelling, &quot;Look at the mad actor!&quot;
-&quot;Hoo, hoo! look at the crazy fool!&quot;--the crowd of boys and girls
-scampered away, and left the man standing in the road, with only Susan
-and Joshua for an audience. Joshua was hot with indignation, and
-Susan, spell-bound by awe and fear, stood motionless by Joshua's side,
-while large tears trickled from her eyes into her open mouth.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The blood was oozing from the wound in the man's forehead, and his
-long fair hair was crimson-stained. His eyes wandered around
-distressfully, and a sighing moan died upon his lips. The fire of
-enthusiasm had fled from his countenance, and in the place of the
-inspired actor, Joshua saw a man whose face was of a deathly hue, and
-from whose eyes the light seemed to have departed. With his hand
-pressed to his forehead, he staggered a dozen yards, and then leaned
-against the wall for support.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is badly hurt, I am afraid,&quot; said Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan walked swiftly up to the man.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Shall we assist you home?&quot; she said. &quot;Home!&quot; he muttered. &quot;No, no!
-Money! want money!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As he spoke he drooped, and would have fallen to the ground but for
-Joshua, who caught the man on his shoulder, and let him glide gently
-on to a doorstep. Susan wiped the blood from his face with her apron.
-He looked at her vacantly, closed his eyes, and fainted.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is dying, Joshua!&quot; cried Susan, her trembling fingers wandering
-about the man's face. &quot;Oh, the wicked boys! Oh, the wicked boys!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A woman here came out of a house with a cup of cold water, which she
-sprinkled upon his face. Presently the man sighed, and struggled to
-his feet, murmuring, &quot;Yes, yes; I must go home.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where do you live?&quot; asked Joshua. &quot;We will assist you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He did not answer, but walked slowly on like one in a dream. Assisting
-but not guiding his steps, Joshua and Susan walked on either side of
-him, and supported him. Although he scarcely seemed to be awake, he
-knew his way, and turning down a street even commoner than its
-fellows, he stopped at the entrance to a miserable court. Waving his
-hand as if dismissing them, he walked a few steps down the court, and
-entered a house, the door of which was open. Impelled partly by
-curiosity, but chiefly by compassion, Joshua and Susan followed the
-man into a dark passage, and up a rheumatic flight of stairs, into a
-room where want and wretchedness made grim holiday.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie!&quot; he muttered hoarsely, and all his strength seemed to desert
-him as he spoke--&quot;Minnie, child! where are you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He sank upon the ground with a wild shudder, and lay as if death had
-overtaken him. At the same moment there issued from the corner of the
-room where the deepest shadows gathered, a child-girl, so marvellously
-like him, with her fair waving hair, her large beautifully-shaped
-mouth, her white teeth, and her great restless gray eyes, that Joshua
-knew at once that they were father and daughter.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie crept to the man, and sat beside him. She spoke to him, but he
-did not reply. And then she looked at Joshua and Susan, whose forms
-were dimly discernible in the gathering gloom.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is the matter with father?&quot; she asked of them in a faint moaning
-voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Some bad boys threw a stone at him, and hit him on the forehead,&quot;
-Joshua answered. &quot;He will be better presently, I hope.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie did not heed what he said, but felt eagerly in her father's
-pockets, and, not finding what she searched for, began to cry.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, no,&quot; she said, beating her hands together; &quot;it is not that. He is
-weak and ill because he has had nothing to eat. I thought he would
-have brought home enough to buy some bread, but he hasn't a penny.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua remembered the man's words, &quot;Money! I want money!&quot; and he
-immediately realized that the poor creatures were in want.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Are you hungry, Minnie?&quot; he asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have not had any breakfast,&quot; she answered wearily. &quot;No more has
-father. Nor any dinner. We had some bread last night. We ate it all
-up. Father went out to-day, hoping to earn a little money, and he has
-come home without any. We shall die, I suppose. But I should like
-something to eat first.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How do you know he has had nothing to eat?&quot; asked Joshua; the words
-almost choked him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie looked up with a plaintive smile.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If he had had only a hard piece of bread given him,&quot; she said in a
-tender voice, &quot;he would have put it into his pocket for me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Stop here, Susan,&quot; said Joshua, a great sob rising in his throat. &quot;I
-will be back in ten minutes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He ran out of the room and out of the house. Never in his life had he
-run so fast as he ran now. He rushed into Dan's room, and said, almost
-breathlessly,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where is the money-box, Dan? How much is there in it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Fourteen pence,&quot; said the faithful treasurer, producing the box.
-&quot;What a heat you are in, Jo!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind that. I want every farthing of the money, Dan. Don't ask
-me any questions. I will tell you all by and by.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan emptied the money-box upon the table, and Joshua seized the money,
-and tore out of the house as if for dear life. Soon he was in the
-actor's room again, with bread and tea. Susan had not been idle during
-his absence. She had bathed the man's wound, and had wiped the blood
-and mud from his face and hair. He had recovered from his swoon, and
-was looking at her gratefully.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua placed the bread before him, and he broke a piece from the loaf
-and gave it to Minnie, who ate it greedily.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So fair and foul a day I have not seen,'&quot; the man muttered; and both
-Joshua and Susan thought, &quot;How strangely yet how beautifully he
-speaks!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan made the tea down stairs, and she and Joshua sat quietly by,
-while the man and his daughter ate like starved wolves. It was a
-bitterly-painful sight to see.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I think we had better go now, Susan,&quot; whispered Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They would have left the room without a word; but the man said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is your name, and what are you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My name is Joshua Marvel, and I'm going to be a sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'There's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft,'&quot; said the actor,
-&quot;'to keep watch for the life of poor Jack.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's what Praiseworthy Meddler says,&quot; said Joshua, laughing. &quot;I
-shall come and see you again, if you will let me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come and welcome.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Goodnight, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Goodnight, and God bless you, Joshua Marvel!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie went to the door with Joshua and Susan, and looking at Joshua,
-with the tears in her strangely-beautiful eyes, said,</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Goodnight, and God bless you, Joshua Marvel!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She raised herself on tiptoe, and Joshua stooped and kissed her. After
-that, Susan gave her a hug, and she returned to her father, and lay
-down beside him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When he arrived home, Joshua told Dan of the adventure, and how he had
-spent the fourteen pence. Dan nodded his head approvingly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You did right,&quot; he said,--&quot;you always do. I should have done just the
-same.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then they took the odd volume of Shakspeare from the shelf, and read
-the Ghost scenes in &quot;Hamlet&quot; before they said goodnight.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER VII.</h4>
-
-<h5>EXPLAINS WHY PRAISEWORTHY MEDDLER REMAINED A BACHELOR.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Here is Praiseworthy Meddler, sitting in the best chair in a
-corner of
-the fireplace in the little kitchen in Stepney. In his low shoes and
-loose trousers, and blue shirt open at the throat, he looks every inch
-a sailor; and his great red pock-marked face is in keeping with his
-calling. On the other side of the fireplace, facing Praiseworthy
-Meddler, is Mr. George Marvel; next to Praiseworthy Meddler is Mrs.
-Marvel; on a stool at her father's feet sits Sarah; and Joshua sits at
-the table, watching every shade of expression that passes over his
-mother's face. The subject-matter of the conversation is the sea; and
-Praiseworthy Meddler has been &quot;holding forth,&quot; as is evidenced by his
-drawing from the bosom of his shirt a blue-cotton pocket-handkerchief,
-upon which is imprinted a ship of twelve hundred tons burden, A 1 at
-Lloyd's for an indefinite number of years. The ship is in full sail,
-and all its canvas is set to a favorable breeze. Upon this blue vessel
-Praiseworthy Meddler dabs his red face in a manner curiously
-suggestive of his face being a deck, and the handkerchief a mop. When
-he has mopped his deck, which appears to be a perpetually-perspiring
-one, he spreads his handkerchief over his knee to dry, and says, as
-being an appropriate tag to what has gone before,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is no place on earth like the sea.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor was not aware that any thing of a paradoxical nature
-was involved in the statement, or he might not have repeated it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is no place on earth like the sea. Show me the man who says
-there is, and I'll despise him; if I don't, I'm a Dutchman;&quot; adding,
-to strengthen his declaration, &quot;or a double Dutchman.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The man not being forthcoming--probably he was not in the
-neighborhood, or, being there, did not wish to be openly
-despised--Praiseworthy Meddler looked around with the air of one who
-has the best of the argument, and then produced a piece of pigtail
-from a mysterious recess and bit into it as if he were a savage boar
-biting into the heart of a foe.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But the danger, Mr. Meddler,&quot; suggested Mrs. Marvel, in a trembling
-voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is more danger upon land, lady.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There, mother,&quot; said Mr. Marvel; &quot;didn't I tell you so, the other
-night?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You told her right,&quot; said Praiseworthy, with emphasis. &quot;Danger on the
-sea, lady! What is it to danger on the land? A ship can ride over a
-wave, let it be ever so high; but a man can't step over a wagon.
-Are carts and drays and horses safe? Are gas-pipes safe? And if
-there is danger on the sea, lady--which I don't deny, mind you,
-altogether--what does it do? Why, it makes a man of a boy, and it
-makes a man more of a man.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hear, <i>hear</i>, HEAR!&quot; exclaimed Mr. Marvel, rapping on the table.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Look at me!&quot; said the enthusiastic sailor. &quot;Here am I--I don't know
-how many years old, and that's a fact--I've lived on the sea from when
-I was a boy; and I've been blown by rough winds, and I've been blinded
-by storms and I've been wrecked on rocky coasts, and I've been as near
-death, ay, a score of times, as most men have been. Lord love you, my
-dear! All we've got to do is to do our duty; and when we're called
-aloft, we can say, 'Ay, ay, sir!' with a brave heart. What better life
-than a life on sea is there for boy or man? And doesn't Saturday night
-come round?</p>
-<br>
-<div style="font-size:90%; margin-left:5%">
-<p style="text-indent:-7%;margin-bottom:0px">&quot;'For all the world's just like the ropes aboard a ship,</p>
-<p style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Each man's rigged out,<br>
-A vessel stout,</p>
-<p style="margin-left:-7%;margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">To take for life a trip.</p>
-<p style="margin-left:-7%;margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">The shrouds, the stays, the braces,</p>
-<p style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Are joys, and hopes, and fears;</p>
-<p style="margin-left:-7%;margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">The halliards, sheets, and traces,</p>
-<p style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Still as each passion veers,<br>
-<p style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">And whim prevails,<br>
-Direct the sails.</p>
-<p style="margin-left:-7%;margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">As on the sea of life he steers.</p>
-<p style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Then let the storm<br>
-Heaven's face deform,</p>
-<p style="margin-left:-7%;margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">And danger press;</p>
-<p style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Of these in spite, there are some joys</p>
-<p style="margin-left:-7%;margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">Us jolly tars to bless;</p>
-<p style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">For Saturday night still comes, my boys,</p>
-<p style="margin-left:-7%;margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">To drink to Poll and Bess.'&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p class="normal">Praiseworthy Meddler roared out the song at the top of his voice, as
-if it were the most natural and appropriate thing for him to do just
-there and then. The effect of his sudden inspiration was, that every
-member of the Marvel family, without being previously acquainted with
-the young ladies referred to, repeated in their honor the refrain of
-the last two lines,--</p>
-<br><div style="font-size:90%; margin-left:10%">
-<p style="margin-left:-11%;margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">&quot;For Saturday night still comes, my boys,</p>
-<p style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">To drink to Poll and Bess.&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p class="continue">with such extraordinary enthusiasm, that the carroty-haired cat rose
-to her feet in alarm, debating within herself the possibility of the
-Marvel family having suddenly caught a contagious madness from the Old
-Sailor. Convinced that the matter required looking into, puss walked
-softly to the door, with the intention of arousing the neighbors; but,
-silence ensuing at the conclusion of the refrain, she became
-reassured, and stole back to her warm space on the floor, and curled
-herself up again, and blinked at the fire.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">After this exertion, Praiseworthy Meddler took the twelve-hundred-ton
-ship off his knee, and dabbed his face with it energetically.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What does it amount to,&quot; he continued, &quot;if the heart's brave? What
-does it amount to when it is all over, and when one gets to be as old
-as I am? I'm tough and firm;&quot; and he gave his leg a great slap. &quot;I'm
-as young as a younger man; and I know that there's no place on earth
-like the sea.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you can get promotion, can't you?&quot; asked Joshua, eagerly. &quot;A man
-needn't be a common sailor all his life?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, Josh; he needn't stick at that, if he's willing and able, and
-does his duty. I know many a skipper who once on a time was only an
-able-bodied seaman.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you hear that, mother?&quot; cried Joshua. &quot;Now are you satisfied?&quot; and
-he jumped up and gave her a kiss.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is a skipper, Mr. Meddler?&quot; asked Mrs. Marvel, with her arm
-round Joshua's waist. She had a dim notion that a skipper was
-connected with a skipping-rope, and that she might have been a skipper
-in her girlhood's days. If that were the case, she could not see what
-advantage it would be to Joshua to become one.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A skipper's a captain, mother,&quot; whispered Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh!&quot; said Mrs. Marvel, but not quite clear in her mind on the point.
-&quot;Then, if I might be so bold, Mr. Meddler&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But here Mrs. Marvel stopped suddenly, and blushed like a girl.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, ay, lady, go on,&quot; said the Old Sailor, encouragingly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If I might make so bold,&quot; continued Mrs. Marvel, with an effort, &quot;how
-is it that you never rose to be a skipper?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O mother!&quot; cried Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The question is a sensible one, Joshua,&quot; said Praiseworthy Meddler
-slowly, &quot;and a right one too; though, if all able-bodied seamen rose
-to be skippers, there wouldn't be ships enough in the world for them.
-I should have been promoted, I have no doubt; but I was born with
-something unfortunate, which has stuck to me all my life, and which I
-have never been able to get rid of.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is it any thing painful?&quot; asked Mrs. Marvel with womanly solicitude.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Praiseworthy Meddler looked at her with a droll expression on his
-face, and folded his twelve-hundred-ton ship into very small squares,
-and laid it in the palm of his left hand, and flattened it with the
-palm of his right, before he spoke again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It wasn't my fault, it was my misfortune. I couldn't help my father's
-name being Meddler, and I couldn't help being a Meddler myself, being
-his son, you see. My father didn't like his name any more than I did,
-but he didn't know how to change it; he was born a Meddler, and he
-died a Meddler. My being a Meddler is the only reason, I do believe,
-why I am not a skipper this present day of our Lord; and I don't think
-I am sorry that, when I die, I sha'n't leave any Meddlers behind me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have never been married, Mr. Meddler?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, lady; but I was very near it once, as you shall hear. It was all
-because of my name that I wasn't. My father didn't like his name, as I
-have told you. His Christian name was Andrew; he was a saddler. He got
-along well enough to set up shop for himself, and one morning he took
-the shutters down for the first time, and commenced business. Over his
-window was the sign, 'A. Meddler, saddler.' There was a rival saddler
-in the same town, whose name was Straight, and who didn't like my
-father setting up in opposition to him; and he put in his window a
-bill, with this on it: 'Have your saddles made and repaired by a
-Straightforward man, and not by A. Meddler.' That ruined my father:
-people laughed at him, instead of dealing with him; he soon had to
-shut up shop, and go to work again as a journeyman. He had two
-children; the first was a girl, the next was me. I heard that he was
-very pleased when my sister was born, because she was a girl. 'She can
-marry when she grows up,' he said, 'and then she will have her
-husband's name.' When I was born, my father wasn't pleased: he didn't
-want any more Meddlers, he said. But he couldn't help it; no more
-could I. He did what he thought was the very best thing for me--he
-gave me a fine Christian name to balance my surname he had me
-christened Praiseworthy. Now that made it worse. If I was laughed at
-for being a Meddler, I was laughed at more for being a Praiseworthy
-Meddler. Once, when I was a young fellow, I did good service in a ship
-I was serving in. When we came into port, the skipper reported well of
-me, and the owners sent for me. I went to the office, thinking that I
-should be promoted for my good services. The firm owned at least a
-dozen merchant-ships; and I should have been promoted, if it hadn't
-been for my name. The owners spoke kindly to me; and after I had
-satisfied them that I was fit for promotion, the youngest partner
-asked my name. I told him Meddler. He smiled, and the other partners
-smiled. 'What other name?' he asked. 'Praiseworthy,' I answered;
-'Praiseworthy Meddler.' He laughed at that, and said that I was the
-only Praiseworthy Meddler he had ever met. They seemed so tickled at
-it, that the serious part of the affair slipped clean out of their
-heads; they called me an honest fellow, and said that they would not
-forget me. They didn't forget me; they gave me five pounds over and
-above my pay. If it hadn't been for my name, they might have appointed
-me mate of one of their ships. I was so mad with thinking about it,
-that I began to hate myself because I was a Meddler. If the name had
-been something I could have got hold of, I would have strangled it. At
-last I made up my mind that I would get spliced, and that I would take
-my lass's name the day I was married. Being on leave, and stopping at
-my father's house, I told him what I had made up my mind to do. He was
-a melancholy man--it was his name that made him so, I do believe--and
-he told me, in his melancholy voice, that it was the best thing I
-could do, and that he wished he had thought of doing so before he
-married. 'Wipe it out, my boy,' he said, 'wipe out the unlucky name;
-sweep all the Meddlers out of the world. It would have been better you
-had been born with a hump than been born a Meddler.' He talked a
-little wild sometimes, but we were used to it. I began to look about
-me; and one day I caught sight of a lass who took my fancy. My leave
-was nearly expired, and I had to join my ship in a few days. I wanted
-to learn all about the girl, and I was too bashful to do it myself,
-which is not the usual way of sailors, my dear. So I pointed out the
-lass to a shipmate, and told him I had taken a fancy to her, and would
-he get me all the information he could about her. That very night, as
-I was bolting the street-door, just before going to bed, I heard my
-shipmate's voice outside in the street. 'Is that you, Meddler?' he
-asked. 'Yes, Jack,' I answered. 'I thought I'd come to tell you at
-once,' he cried; 'I've found out all about her. Her father's dead, and
-her mother's married again, and the lass isn't happy at home.' 'That
-makes it all the better for me,' I said. 'Has she got a sweetheart?'
-'None that she cares a button for, or that a sailor couldn't cut out,'
-he answered. 'Hurrah!' I cried; 'I will go and see her to-morrow.
-Thank you, Jack; goodnight.' 'Goodnight,' he said, and I heard him
-walking, away. Just then I remembered that I had forgotten the most
-important thing of all--her name. I unbolted the door, and called
-after him, 'What is her name, Jack?' 'Mary Gotobed!' he cried from a
-distance. 'Mary what?' I shouted. 'Gotobed!' he cried again. I bolted
-the door, and went.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Praiseworthy Meddler, pausing to take breath, cast another droll look
-upon his attentive auditors.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Gotobed!&quot; he then resumed. &quot;Why, it was worse than Meddler! I
-couldn't marry a lass named Gotobed, and take her name; I didn't want
-to marry and keep my own name; I couldn't put them together and make
-one sensible name out of the two. Gotobed Meddler was as bad as
-Meddler Gotobed. And the worst of it all was, that I liked the lass.
-She was as pretty a lass as ever I set eyes on. She looked prettier
-than ever when I saw her the next day; and forgetting all about the
-names I spoke to her and lost myself.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Lost yourself!&quot; exclaimed Mrs. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, my dear,&quot; said the Old Sailor, with a bashfulness that did not
-set ill upon him. &quot;I fell in love.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He said this in a confidential hoarse whisper to Mrs. Marvel, as if
-the youngsters ought not to hear it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, that!&quot; said Mrs. Marvel with a smile.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But directly she heard what my name was,&quot; continued the Old Sailor,
-&quot;she burst out laughing, and ran away. I had to go to my ship soon
-after that; and when I came back again, she was married to some one
-else. So I gave up the idea of marrying; and the name I was born to
-has stuck to me all my life. And that is the reason why I never
-married, and why I never became a skipper.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They made merry over the Old Sailor's story, and over other stories
-that he told of the sea, and of the chances it afforded a youngster
-like Joshua of getting on in the world. And towards the close of the
-evening Mrs. Marvel fairly gave in, and promised that she would not
-say another word against Joshua's determination to be a sailor. In
-token of which submission a large jug of grog was compounded,
-in honor of the Old Sailor; and when that was drunk, another was
-compounded in honor of Joshua. Of both of which Praiseworthy Meddler
-drank so freely, that he staggered home to his barge in a state of
-semi-inebriation, singing snatches of sea-songs without intermission,
-until he tumbled into his hammock and fell asleep.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER VIII.</h4>
-
-<h5>A HAPPY HOLIDAY.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">In after years, when Joshua was many thousands of miles away
-from
-Stepney, Dan loved to linger over the memory of one especially happy
-day which he, and Joshua, and Ellen and the Old Sailor spent together.
-Upon that day the sun was rising now; and Dan, lying in bed, was
-waiting impatiently for the solemn and merry church-bells to strike
-the hour of seven. His Sunday clothes were smoothly laid out upon a
-chair, close to his bed. Had the day not been an eventful one, he
-would not have been allowed to wear his best suit in the middle of the
-week. When Joshua makes his appearance in Dan's bedroom, it will be
-seen that he will also be dressed in his best clothes. The secret of
-all this is, that the lads had received permission from their parents
-to spend the day with the Old Sailor at the waterside, and were to be
-taken in a cart to the Old Sailor's castle--the barge near the Tower
-Stairs. Twenty times at the least had Dan said to Joshua, &quot;I should so
-like to see the Old Sailor, Jo!&quot; And Joshua, in the most artful
-manner, had fished for the invitation, which would have been very
-readily given had the Old Sailor been aware of Joshua's desire. But
-Joshua, like a great many other diplomatists who think themselves wise
-in their generation, went to work in a subtle roundabout way, and so
-gave himself a vast deal of trouble, which would have been saved had
-he come straight to the point at once. At length, one day, when the
-Old Sailor had said, &quot;And how is Dan, Josh?&quot; and Joshua had answered
-that he thought Dan was beginning to grow strong, he ventured to add,
-with inward fear and trembling: &quot;And he would so much like to see you,
-sir, and hear some of your sea-stories! When I tell them they don't
-sound the same as when you tell them. There's no salt in them.&quot; Artful
-Joshua! &quot;Well, my lad,&quot; the Old Sailor had said with a chuckle (he was
-not insensible to flattery, the old dog!), &quot;why not bring him here to
-spend the day?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;When shall it be, sir?&quot; asked Joshua secretly delighted.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Next Wednesday, Josh,&quot; said the Old Sailor. So next Wednesday it was.
-And Joshua ran to Dan's house wild with delight, and coaxed Dan's
-parents in to giving their permission.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was on this very Wednesday morning that Dan was lying awake,
-waiting for seven o'clock to strike. He awoke at least two hours
-before the proper time to rise; and those hours appeared to him to be
-longer than hours ever were before. The ride itself would be an event
-in Dan's life; but it was not to be compared with what was to come
-afterwards--the spending of a whole day and night in a house on the
-water. During the past week Dan had been in a fever of pleasurable
-anticipation, and in a fever of fright also, lest it should rain upon
-this particular day. The previous night it <i>had</i> rained; and Dan,
-lying awake for a longer time than usual, had prayed for the rain to
-go away. Ellen--standing at the window in his bedroom, after she had
-got out his clean shirt and Sunday clothes, and brushed and smoothed
-them, and taken up a stitch in them here and there, as women (and
-girls after them) say--had seen the spots of rain falling, and,
-joining her prayer to his, had begged very earnestly to the rain to go
-away and come again another day.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now the day was dawning; and Dan, opening his eyes, clapped his
-hands in delight to see the sun shining so brightly upon the broken
-jug which stood upon the window-sill, and in which was a handful of
-the sweet-smelling humble wall-flower. The pair of bullfinches which
-Joshua had bought for the Old Sailor were busily at work in their
-cage, which was hanging at the window, and were as conscious of the
-beauty of the morning as the most sensible human being could possibly
-be. Dan was so delighted that he whistled &quot;Rule, Britannia! Britannia
-rules the waves!&quot; And one of the bullfinches, after abstracting the
-last hemp-seed from the glass containing their morning meal,
-immediately piped out with fervid patriotism, &quot;For Britons never,
-<i>never</i>, NE-<i>ver</i> shall be slaves!&quot; From this episode the reader will
-learn that the education of the bullfinches was completed. &quot;Rule,
-Britannia,&quot; was not their sole vocal accomplishment. They could
-whistle &quot;And did you not hear of a jolly young waterman?&quot; in a very
-superior manner. On that day the bullfinches were to be presented to
-their new master--to whom not a hint had been given of the pleasant
-surprise in store for him; which made it all the more delightful.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">While the patriotic bullfinch was asserting in the most
-melodiously-persuasive notes that &quot;Britons never, <i>never</i>, NE-<i>ver</i>
-shall be slaves,&quot; its mate was engaged drawing up water in the tiniest
-little bucket in the world--another of the accomplishments (coming,
-presumably, under the head of &quot;extras&quot;)which patient Dan had taught
-the birds in order to win the heart of the Old Sailor. The industrious
-bullfinch had a remarkably rakish eye, which flashed saucily and
-impatiently as the music fell upon its ears. The slender rope which
-held the bucket being in its beak, it could not join in the harmony;
-but directly the bucket was hauled up and secured, it whetted its
-whistle, and piped out in opposition,--</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="hang1" style="font-size:90%; margin-bottom:0px">&quot;And did you not hear of a jolly young waterman,<br>
-Who at Blackfriars-bridge used for to ply?</p>
-<p class="hang1" style="font-size:90%; margin-top:0px">He feathered his oars with such skill and dexterity,<br>
-Winning each heart and delighting each eye;&quot;</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="continue">repeating, as was its wont, the last line, &quot;Winning each heart and
-delighting each eye,&quot; so as to produce a greater effect. I do not
-assert that the bullfinch actually uttered the words, but I <i>do</i>
-assert positively that it sang the music of them with the most
-beautiful trills that mortal ever heard.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But there was the solemn church-bell striking seven o'clock in tones
-less solemn than usual, and there was the joyous church-bell following
-suit. And as if the sound had conjured him up, there was Joshua,
-dressed in his best, and looking so fresh and handsome with his
-holiday-face on, that Dan might well be proud of him. He had his
-accordion under his arm, and in one hand was a bunch of flowers which
-Dan was to give to the Old Sailor, and in the other a glass containing
-some rape-seed soaked in canary-wine for the birds. They knew as well
-as possible--knowing little bullfinches!--that Joshua had something
-nice for them; and as he approached the cage they came as close to him
-as they could, and, to show their appreciation of his kindness,
-greeted him with a gush of the sweetest melody. What better beginning
-could there be for a happy holiday!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When Dan was dressed the lads went into the kitchen to have breakfast.
-And there was Ellen, as fresh as a daisy. The breakfast things were
-laid; and there was a clean cloth (not damask, mind!) on the deal
-table, and there, absolutely, were two new-laid eggs, one for Joshua
-and one for Dan, which Ellen had bought and paid for with her own
-money the day before, without saying a word about it. Ellen stooped
-and kissed Dan, and as she raised her head Joshua looked at her, and
-felt a huge longing to take her face between his two hands and kiss
-her, as he used to do in the time when they played sweethearts
-together. But he hadn't the courage. Yet he could not help looking at
-Ellen again and thinking, What a pretty girl Ellen is! and then,
-seeing Ellen's eyes fixed upon his, he turned away his head and
-blushed. And Ellen smiled at that, and, if she had been asked, really
-could not have told the reason why. Surely never was such a happy
-commencement to a holiday, and never was such a happy couple as Dan
-and Joshua! After all, are not simple pleasures the best? Are not
-those the sweetest pleasures that cost the least?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What put it into Joshua's head? Was it the sentiment of perfect
-happiness that actuated the wish? Or was it a passing shadow, lighter
-than the lightest cloud, that passed over Ellen's face, as the lads
-were talking of the coming delights of the day? It was there but a
-moment, but Joshua saw it, or thought he did, and thought also that
-there was regret in it. Or was it Ellen's pretty face, or the little
-piece of blue ribbon that she had put round her neck, the puss? For
-Ellen was fair, and knew what colors best suited her complexion.
-Whatever it was that actuated it, there was Joshua saying, just as
-they had sat down to breakfast and Ellen was pouring out the
-milk-and-water--you may imagine that there was not a great deal of tea
-drank in Stepney--there was Joshua saying,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ellen, I wish you were coming with us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen's hand shook so that she spilt some of the milk-and-water, and a
-spasm rose in her throat, for she had wished the same thing fervently,
-but had never spoken of it. She checked the spasm, hoping that her
-emotion would not be noticed, and answered not a word. But she looked.
-Such a look!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan was biting into a slice of bread-and-butter, but directly he heard
-Joshua's wish, and saw the yearning, look that sprang into Ellen's
-eyes, he ceased eating, and leaned his head upon his hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I think I am very selfish,&quot; he said, and hot tears gushed into his
-eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In an instant Ellen was by his side, and Ellen's face was close to
-his. Any one who saw that action, any one who could understand the
-quick sympathy that caused her to put her face so close to Dan's, to
-show that she knew what he was reproaching himself for, might have
-been able to comprehend the depth of unselfish tenderness that dwelt
-in the soul of that little maid. Ah! it was only in a kitchen, but how
-beautiful it was to see!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't bother about me, my dear,&quot; she said almost in a whisper. &quot;If
-you are happy, I am happy.&quot; And then she added, pretending to be
-comically indignant, &quot;You stupid Dan! I've a good mind to rumple your
-hair! You selfish, indeed!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am selfish!&quot; exclaimed Dan, looking up and thinking--just as Joshua
-had thought--that he had never seen her look so pretty. &quot;I <i>am</i>
-selfish, Joshua!&quot; he cried, so energetically that Joshua was quite
-startled. &quot;What would the Old Sailor say?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But, Dan&quot;--said Ellen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Seriously, Jo&quot; said Dan, putting his hand over Ellen's mouth, &quot;what
-<i>would</i> the Old Sailor say?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The Old Sailor would be delighted.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, look here,&quot; said Dan, with a determination almost comical in its
-intensity when one considered what inspired it; as if it were a
-question of tremendous national consequence, or something in which
-mighty interests were involved; &quot;are you sure?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am sure he would be delighted, Dan,&quot; replied Joshua without the
-slightest hesitation.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It's of no use, Dan and Josh dear,&quot; said Ellen, shaking her head.
-&quot;You musn't think of it. I can't go. Mother wouldn't be able to spare
-me. Why, don't you know&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't I know what, Ellen?&quot; asked Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you know that it's washing-day?&quot; said Ellen with a sharp nod,
-as if that settled the question.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan's head was still resting upon his hand. He pondered for a few
-moments, and then raising his head, said, &quot;Good little Ellen;&quot; and
-kissed her. &quot;Now let us have breakfast.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Breakfast being over, Dan said he wanted to see Susan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Tell her I want to speak to her most particularly,&quot; he said to Ellen.
-&quot;And, Ellen! when Susan comes, you go out of the room, and Joshua as
-well. I want to speak to her quite privately.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen and Joshua left Susan with Dan, and went into the passage; which
-gave Joshua opportunity to ask Ellen if she remembered when he used to
-be pushed into the coal-cellar. Yes, Ellen remembered it very well
-indeed; and they both laughed over the reminiscence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How black your face used to be!&quot; exclaimed Ellen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And yours too, Ellen!&quot; retorted Joshua saucily.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Whereat Ellen blushed, and did not reply.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What passed between Susan and Dan was never divulged. It was nothing
-very dreadful, you may be sure; for when Dan called to Joshua and
-Ellen to come in, they found him smiling. Susan was gone, but
-presently she entered again with a radiant face and nodded to Dan, who
-nodded to Susan in return, and said gayly,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, Susey!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When Susan went into the passage, she wiped her eyes, and did not once
-look round to see if any thing was behind her. That day, over the
-washing-tub, Susan was happier than she had been for a long time.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then Dan rubbed his hands, and said, &quot;I really think this is going to
-be the happiest day of my life.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The happiest day of my life! How often, and with what various
-meanings, are those words uttered! At dinner-parties when the invited
-guest rises to respond to the toast of his health, and commences by
-saying in tones which falter from emotion, &quot;This is the happiest day
-of my life!&quot; At wedding-feasts, if healths are being proposed, when
-the bridegroom, the bridegroom's father, and the bride's father, each
-in his turn declares, &quot;This is the happiest day of my life!&quot; At the
-presentation of testimonials, whether to humbug, worthy man, or fool,
-it is &quot;The happiest day of my life!&quot; with one and all of them. With
-copious use of pocket-handkerchief, and with face more suitable for a
-funeral than for a joyful occasion. But a fig for moralizing on such a
-day as this!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dam's countenance was suffused with a flush of genuine delight, as he
-repeated,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Ellen, this is going to be the happiest day of my life.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She gave him a questioning, imploring look, which asked the reason why
-as plainly as any words could put the question.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come here, and I'll whisper,&quot; said Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen put her ear close to his mouth, but Dan, instead of whispering,
-blew into her ear, which caused her to start away with a pleasant
-shiver, and to cry out that he tickled her. Nothing daunted, however,
-she placed her ear a second time to his lips; and then he whispered
-something, which made Ellen jump for joy, and hug him round the neck,
-and tear out of the room as if she were mad. And almost before you
-could say &quot;Jack Robinson!&quot; there she was back again, her eyes all
-aglow with excitement, in her modest Sunday dress and pretty Sunday
-bonnet.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan's voice was heard calling out,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Here's the cart at the door!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She means our carriage, Jo,&quot; said Dan merrily, as Joshua carried him
-out.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And there they were, the three of them in the cart; Dan lying his full
-length on some straw between Joshua and Ellen, who sat upon a kind of
-bench in a state of perfect happiness. And there were the bullfinches
-in their cage, wondering what on earth it all meant, but very blithe
-and merry notwithstanding. And there was the cart moving, along
-slowly, so that Dan should not be jolted. And there they were,
-presently, looking at each other, and laughing and nodding pleasantly
-without any apparent cause.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Not among all the stars that gem the heavens (which some wise men
-assert are really worlds in which forms that have life fulfil the task
-ordained by the Master of all the worlds) could there be found a more
-beautiful world than this was to our young holiday-folk on that bright
-summer morning. Whitechapel the Dingy was as a flower-garden in their
-eyes; and as they rode through the busy neighborhood a great many
-persons turned to look at the crazy cart--the springs in which were
-the only uneasy part of the whole affair--and at the three joyful
-faces that peered about, enjoying every thing, and thankful for every
-thing, from the flying clouds to the lazy gutters.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Soon they were at the waterside; and soon they were on the barge, with
-the Old Sailor welcoming them in downright sailor fashion. Directly
-Dan put out his little hand, and felt it imprisoned in the Old
-Sailor's immense palm, and directly he looked at the great open face,
-pock-marked as it was, and into the staring pleasant eyes, which
-returned his look honestly and pleasantly, he nodded to himself in
-satisfaction. His delight was unbounded when the Old Sailor lifted him
-tenderly, and placed him in a hammock specially prepared for him. He
-was deeply impressed by the Old Sailor's thoughtful kindness. The mere
-fact of his lying in a hammock was entrancing. And there Dan swung,
-and, gazing in wonder upon the busy life of the flowing river, fancied
-himself in dreamland.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Before he gave himself up to that trance, however, there was much to
-be done and much to be observed. When the Old Sailor lifted him into
-the hammock and arranged him comfortably--Dan was surprised that those
-great strong hands could be so light and tender--he said to the Old
-Sailor, &quot;Thank you, sir;&quot; and the Old Sailor replied, &quot;Ay, ay, my
-lad,&quot; just as he had read of, and in just the kind of tone he imagined
-a sailor would use.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The next thing the Old Sailor did was to rest his hand upon Ellen's
-head. Thereupon Joshua said, &quot;You don't mind, Mr. Praiseworthy, do
-you?&quot; referring to the liberty they had taken in bringing Ellen
-without an invitation. &quot;Mind!&quot; the Old Sailor exclaimed. &quot;A pretty
-little lass like this!&quot; and he stooped and kissed her. And Ellen did
-not even blush, but seemed to like it. The Old Sailor seemed to like
-it too. There was something wonderfully charming in his manner of
-saying &quot;Pretty little lass;&quot; none but a downright thoroughbred old tar
-could have said it in such a way. And there was something wonderfully
-charming in the rough grace with which he accepted the bunch of
-flowers from Ellen. His first intention was to stick them in the bosom
-of his shirt; but second consideration led him to reflect that their
-circumference rendered such a resting-place inappropriate. So he
-placed them in a large tin mug, and sprinkled them with water, which
-glistened on their leaves as freshly as the dew-kisses which glisten
-in the early morning wherever Nature makes holiday. Then Dan took the
-cage containing the bullfinches, and asked the Old Sailor to accept
-the birds as a present from him and Joshua; and the Old Sailor thanked
-him in such cordial terms, that his heart was stirred with a fresh
-delight. Truth to tell, the Old Sailor was mightily gratified with the
-birds; but, at the same time, he was mightily puzzled as to what he
-was to do with them. Prettier little things he had never seen; but,
-small and beautiful as they were, they were a responsibility for which
-he was not prepared. He stood with his legs wide apart, regarding the
-birds with a perplexed expression on his face; and Dan divining what
-was in his mind, opened the door of the cage and out hopped the
-bullfinches looking about them with an air of having been accustomed
-to the water all their lives. As if impelled by a sudden desire to fly
-away and join their mates in distant woodlands, they took wing and
-fluttered around the hammock in which Dan lay; now coming
-tantalizingly near, and now sailing away with an independent air, as
-much as to say, &quot;We're off!&quot; But when Dan held out his forefinger, they
-came and perched upon it contentedly. The Old Sailor gazed on the
-little comedy in admiration. His admiration was increased a hundred
-fold when Dan, taking his hand, transferred the birds on to his
-forefinger. He looked at the birds timorously; the birds looked at him
-confidently. He was afraid to move lest some mischief should happen to
-the delicate creatures.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Put them in the cage, sir,&quot; said Dan. The Old Sailor did so. &quot;Now,&quot;
-continued Dan, &quot;I will send you food for them regularly; and it will
-not be too much trouble for you to fill this well with fresh water
-every morning, will it, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; said the Old Sailor. &quot;But how will the birds get at the water,
-my lad? It is out of their reach.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah! you think so, sir. But have you ever been in want of water?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Of fresh water, I have, my lad; not of salt. Was for three days on a
-raft, with not a drop of fresh water among thirty-seven of us. Two
-drank salt water, and went raving mad; one threw himself into the
-sea.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And the others, sir?&quot; inquired Dan, immensely interested.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The others, my lad, waited and suffered, and prayed for rain. And it
-came, my lad, and we were saved, by the mercy of God. It was awful
-suffering; our very eyeballs were blazing with thirst. It would have
-been a relief to us if we could have cried.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But the heavens cried for you, sir,&quot; said Dan tenderly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, ay, my lad,&quot; said the Old Sailor; &quot;that's well said. The heavens
-cried for us; and we lay on our backs with our mouths open to catch
-the blessed drops. The salt water that was death to us dashed up from
-below; and the fresh water that was life to us came down from above.
-In five minutes we were soaked with the rain; and we sucked at our
-clothes. We caught enough rain-water to last us until we were picked
-up by a merchantman, homeward bound from the Indies.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That was good,&quot; said Dan, feeling as if he had known the Old Sailor
-all his life. &quot;Now, supposing you were wrecked, sir, on a high rock.
-Here is the rock,&quot; pointing to the perch on which the bullfinches were
-standing.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Here is the rock,&quot; repeated the Old Sailor, chiming in readily with
-Dan's fancy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And here you are, sir, with another sailor,&quot; identifying Praiseworthy
-Meddler and the other sailor with the two bullfinches.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And here am I, with another sailor,&quot; said the Old Sailor attentively,
-nodding familiarly at his new shipmate in the cage, who, making much
-too light of the calamity which had befallen them, winked saucily in
-return.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you are very thirsty.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And I am very thirsty,&quot; said the Old Sailor, smacking his parched
-lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And here, out of your reach, is the water,&quot; indicating the well, &quot;you
-want to drink.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And here, out of my reach, is the water I want to drink,&quot; said the
-Old Sailor, growing more parched.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, then,&quot; said Dan, &quot;you can't get at the water with your beak--I
-mean your mouth--and you can't reach it with your claws--I mean your
-hands. Now what do you do?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah what do I do?&quot; repeated the Old Sailor, not seeing his way out of
-the difficulty.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why,&quot; exclaimed Dan enthusiastically, &quot;you get a rope--or, if you
-haven't got one, you make one out of some strong grass, or out of
-strips of your clothes; and you get a bucket--or you make one out of a
-cocoanut,&quot; in his enthusiasm Dan took the cocoanut for granted; and
-the Old Sailor accepted its existence on the rock with most implicit
-faith--&quot;and you attach the cocoanut to the rope, and you lower it into
-the water, and draw it up full. Here you are, doing it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And, obedient to Dan's signal, the bullfinches lowered their tiny
-bucket into the well, and drew it up full, and dipped their beaks into
-the water, as if they were shipwrecked bullfinches, and were nearly
-dead with raging thirst.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A thoughtful expression stole into the Old Sailor's face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They are wise little creatures,&quot; he said. &quot;I have seen a might of
-strange things and pretty things; but this is as pretty as any thing I
-have seen.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You can learn them any thing almost, sir,&quot; said Dan, who was bent
-upon making the Old Sailor love the birds.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To climb ropes like a sailor?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In a week they could. If I had a little ship, with two or three sails
-and a rope-ladder, I could teach them to climb the ladder and set the
-sails.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I dare say, my lad, I dare say.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Did you ever see a mermaid, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">This was one of the questions Dan had made up his mind to ask the Old
-Sailor directly they grew familiar.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; answered the Old Sailor. &quot;I wasn't very near her; and I was
-laughed at for saying I had seen her. But I saw her, for all that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where was it that you saw her, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In the South Pacific, where there are the ugliest images of men and
-women, and the most wonderful birds and flowers and trees, in the
-world. I have walked for miles through forests of wild flowers and
-strange trees, while thousands of parrots were flying about, with
-their feathers all blue and gold and scarlet and silver.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, how beautiful!&quot; exclaimed Dan, twining his fingers together. &quot;And
-they're there now, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Surely. Your land-lubbers don't know any thing of the world.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Those men and women, sir--are they very ugly?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As ugly as sin can make 'em--brown and copper-colored and nearly
-black; cannibals they are.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's very dreadful!&quot; said Dan with a shiver. &quot;What else have you
-seen, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What would you say to gardens in the sea?&quot; asked the Old Sailor
-enthusiastically. &quot;What would you say to fields in the sky?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No!&quot; said Dan in wonder.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, my lad. Gardens in the sea, with the flowers growing and
-blooming. I only saw land in the sky once; but it was a sight that
-can't be forgot. We were thousands of miles away from land; but there
-in the sky was the country, with fields and forests and mountains. We
-saw it for near an hour; then it melted away. What would you say to
-flying fish--showers of 'em. I heard of a talking fish; but I never
-saw it. I shouldn't wonder, now, if these pretty little birds could
-talk.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir,&quot; said Dan; &quot;they can't talk, but they can sing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With that he whistled the first stave of &quot;Rule, Britannia;&quot; and the
-bullfinches piped the patriotic song so spiritedly, that the Old
-Sailor roared out in a hoarse voice, &quot;Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules
-the waves!&quot; and then stopped, and wiped the perspiration from his
-forehead, and exclaimed, &quot;Lord, Lord!&quot; with rapturous bewilderment.
-But when Dan whistled &quot;And have you not heard of a jolly young
-waterman?&quot; and the birds answered, &quot;Oh, yes! we have heard of a jolly
-young waterman,&quot; and proceeded to narrate where that jolly young
-waterman plied, and how dexterously that jolly young waterman
-feathered his oars, the Old Sailor was fairly dumfoundered, and sat
-down in silence, and watched and listened, while Dan put the birds
-through the whole of their performances.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ah, what a happy day was that--never, never to be forgotten! As he lay
-in his hammock, with a delicious sense of rest upon him, he saw
-pleasure-boats and barges floating down with the tide, with a happy
-indolence in keeping with every thing about him. What else? Bright
-visions in the clouds; not for himself, but for his friend, his
-brother Joshua; bright visions of beautiful lands and beautiful seas.
-What did the Old Sailor say? Gardens in the sea, with the flowers
-growing and blooming! He saw them in the clouds; and each flower was
-bright with beauty, and each petal was rimmed with light. Fields in
-the skies! There they were, stretching far, far away; and some one was
-walking through forests of wild flowers and strange trees. Who was it?
-Joshua! And there were the parrots that the Old Sailor had spoken of;
-with their feathers of blue and gold and scarlet and silver. But Dan
-happened to turn his eyes from the clouds to the water, and dreamland
-faded. Joshua was rowing on the river.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Bravo, Joshua! How strong he looked, with his shirt-sleeves tucked up
-to his shoulders; and how well he managed his oars! Not that Dan was
-much of a judge; but he knew what grace was, and surely he saw that
-before him when he saw Joshua rowing. Joshua looked at Dan, and smiled
-and nodded; and Dan clapped his hands. And Joshua, to show how clever
-he was, made a great sweep with the oars, and fell backwards in the
-boat, in a most ridiculous position, with his heels in the air. But he
-was up again like lightning, and recovered his oars, and made so light
-of it, that Dan, who had caught his breath for an instant, laughed
-merrily at the mishap, and thought it was good fun. His laugh was
-echoed by Ellen, who was sitting by his side, and who had also been a
-little alarmed at first. The industrious maid was making holiday in
-her own peculiar way. She was not accustomed to sit idly down with her
-hands in her lap. By some mysterious means she had obtained possession
-of two of the Old Sailor's shirts which required mending; and there
-she was stitching away at them, as if it were the most natural thing
-in the world for her to do when she came out for a holiday. Did she
-have a design upon the Old Sailor? It really looked suspiciously like
-it, if one might judge from the demure glances she cast upon him every
-now and then, and from the admiring manner in which he returned her
-artful glances. One thing was certain: she had fairly captivated him;
-and there is no telling what might have occurred, if he had been
-thirty years younger.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What more beautiful phase of human nature can be seen than that of an
-old man with a young heart? Place, side by side, two pictures of old
-manhood: one, with crafty face; with cautious eyes that never rove;
-with compressed lips that keep guard on every word; with puckered
-forehead and eyebrows, from every ugly crevice in which the spirit of
-&quot;You can't take me in&quot; peeps out, as if the essence of a fox were in
-hiding there;--the other, with open face, which says, &quot;Read me; I am
-not afraid;&quot; with eyes that, be they large or small, enjoy what they
-see; with full-fleshed wrinkles on forehead and eyebrows; with lips
-that smile when others smile.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">No younger heart ever beat in the breast of an old man than that which
-beat in the breast of Praiseworthy Meddler. He had never mingled with
-children; yet here he was, at nearly seventy years of age, a hale and
-hearty old man, with a nature as simple as a child's. What was it that
-made him so? Was it because he had lived his youth and manhood away
-from cities, where the tricky webs of trade teach men to trick as
-their brethren do, or where the anxiety how to live, and with many,
-alas, how to get to-morrow's bread, stops the generous flow of a
-generous nature, and robs life's summer of its brightness? Or did he
-inherit it? If so, how deserving of pity are those children who are
-born of crafty parents! There are human mysteries which science has
-not dared to probe, and there are inherited ills and calamities which
-philanthropists, up to the present time, have not tried to get to the
-root of.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Anyhow, here was Praiseworthy Meddler sitting upon the deck of his
-barge by the side of Ellen, showing her, in the intervals of
-stitching, how to splice a broken rope, and initiating her into the
-mysteries a short-splice, long-splice, and eye-splice. Dan, looking
-on, begged some rope, and proved himself a wonderfully-apt scholar,
-which caused the Old Sailor to remark,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You ought to be a sailor, my lad;&quot; forgetting for the moment that
-Dan's legs were useless.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should have to work in a hammock, sir,&quot; said Dan cheerfully.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor blushed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I forgot,&quot; he said in a gentle voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There's the sailor for you, if you like,&quot; said Dan, pointing to
-Joshua, who, a couple of hundred yards away, was pulling lazily
-towards the barge.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, ay, my lad; Joshua has the right stuff in him. He will be a fine
-strong man.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is better than strong, sir,&quot; said Dan; &quot;he is noble and
-tender-hearted. If you knew, sir, how good he has been to me, you
-would admire and love him more. If you knew how gentle he has been to
-me--how tender, and how self-sacrificing--you would think even better
-of him than you do. We have been together all our lives; every day he
-has come to me as regularly as the sun, and has been to me what the
-sun is to the day. I look back now that he is going away, and I cannot
-remember that he has ever given me a cross word or a cross look. And I
-have been very troublesome sometimes, and very peevish; but he has
-borne with it all. Look, sir,&quot; and Dan drew the Old Sailor's attention
-to two pieces of rope, one thin and one thick, the strands of which he
-had been interweaving, &quot;this thin rope is me; this thick rope is
-Joshua. Now we are spliced, and you can't pull us apart. Joshua and me
-are friends for ever and ever!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor listened attentively, and nodded his head occasionally,
-to show that he was following Dan's words, and understood them. Ellen,
-having mended the Old Sailor's shirts, sat with her hands folded in
-her lap, indorsing every word that Dan uttered.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Just then Joshua reached the barge, and having secured the boat,
-climbed on to the deck. As he did so, eight bells struck.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Eight bells,&quot; said the Old Sailor. &quot;Dinner.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With that, he lifted Dan out of the hammock, and carried him to where
-dinner was laid on a table which extended fore and aft down the centre
-of what it would be the wildest extravagance of courtesy to call a
-saloon, and where every thing was prepared in expectation of a storm.
-Joshua and Ellen followed, and the four of them made a very merry
-party. Lobscouse and sea-pie were the only dishes, and they were
-brought in by a Lascar with rings in his ears, whom the Old Sailor
-called a &quot;lubberly swab,&quot; because he was unmistakably drunk; and who
-in return, notwithstanding his drunken condition, cast upon the Old
-Sailor an evil look, which flashed from his eyes like a dagger-stroke.
-This Lascar was the man who had struck eight bells, and who cooked for
-the Old Sailor, and did odd work about the barge, in return for which
-he got his victuals and a bunk to sleep in. A lazy, indolent rogue,
-who would do any thing, never mind what, for rum and tobacco; a
-cringing, submissive, treacherous rogue, ripe for the execution of any
-villainy on the promise of rum and tobacco; a rogue who would fawn,
-and lie, and stab, and humble himself and play Bombastes for rum and
-tobacco. They were all he seemed to live for; they were his
-Thirty-nine Articles, and he was ready to sell himself for them any
-day. Of what quality might be the work proposed to him to do, so as to
-earn the reward, was of the very smallest consequence to him. He gave
-Ellen such an ugly look of wicked admiration that she was glad when he
-was gone.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dinner over, they returned to the deck, and the Old Sailor told them
-stories of the sea-stories so enthralling, that the afternoon glided
-by like a dream; and the setting sun was tinged with the glories of
-the distant lands whither it was wending. They had tea on deck--a
-delicious tea, of shrimps, water-creases, and bread-and-butter. The
-task of preparing the tea was performed by Ellen and the Old Sailor;
-and during the performance of this task, it may be confidently stated
-that the conquest of the Old Sailor was completed, and that he was
-from that moment, and ever afterwards, her devoted slave. Then they
-went down, and sat two and two on each side of the table, Joshua and
-Dan being on one side, and Ellen and the Old Sailor on the other; and
-they had more sea-stories, and were altogether in a state of supreme
-happiness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">During the latter part of the evening the conversation turned upon
-Joshua's approaching voyage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Always bear in mind the sailor's watchword, my lad,&quot; said the Old
-Sailor. &quot;Along the line the signal ran: 'England expects that every
-man this day will do his duty.' That's meant not for this day alone,
-but for always. What a sailor's got to do is to obey. Many a voyage
-has had a bad ending because of a sailor's forgetting his watchword.
-Don't you forget it, Josh.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I won't, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The 'Merry Andrew,' that you're going to make your first voyage in,
-is a fine ship; the skipper is a fine skipper--a man he is, and that's
-what a ship wants--a man and not an image.&quot; The Old Sailor said this
-in a tone of exasperation, inspired, possibly, by some tantalizing
-remembrance of a ship commanded by an image instead of a man. &quot;So
-stick to your watchword, my lad. It wouldn't be a bad thing now if we
-were to drink to it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The cunning old rascal was only too glad of a chance to get at his
-grog.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Bravo!&quot; exclaimed Dan, clapping his hands.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">No sooner said than done. Hot water, lemon, sugar, rum, compounded
-with the skill of an artist. A glass for Joshua, a glass for Dan, a
-glass for the Old Sailor, and a small glass for Ellen. Not one of them
-seemed afraid of it--not even Ellen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now then,&quot; said the Old Sailor, smiling as the steam rose to his
-nostrils. &quot;Now, then; the sailor's watchword--Duty, and may Joshua
-never forget it!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Duty, Jo,&quot; said Dan, nodding over his glass to Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Duty, Dan,&quot; said Joshua, nodding to Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen said nothing aloud, but whispered something into her glass. Then
-they drank and sipped their grog, and resumed the conversation.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Have you been to New Holland, sir?&quot; asked Dan. The &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; was
-bound for New Holland.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I was there when I was a youngster,&quot; replied the Old Sailor, mixing a
-second glass of grog for himself. &quot;It was a wild country then; I am
-told it is growing into a wonderful country now. We were six months
-going out. We had nearly four hundred convicts aboard, most of them in
-irons. A miserable lot of desperate wretches they were! They were not
-well treated, and they knew it. We had to keep close watch over them;
-if they could have set themselves free by any means--they talked of it
-many a time among themselves--they would have captured the ship, and
-flung us overboard, or something worse. We landed them at Port
-Phillip, where the British Government wanted to form a settlement.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why New Holland, sir?&quot; asked Dan, always eager for information.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Discovered by the Dutch in about 1600,&quot; replied the Old Sailor
-oratorically. &quot;Victoria was discovered by Capt. Cook; let us drink to
-him.&quot; They took a sip--all but the Old Sailor, who scorned sips.
-&quot;Discovered by Capt. Cook in 1770, after he had discovered New
-Zealand.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Any savages, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Swarms. We were out in a boat exploring, and when we were close in
-shore, two or three hundred savages came whooping down upon us. We
-weren't afraid of them; we pulled in to shore, and they stopped short
-about twenty yards from us, jabbering like a lot of black monkeys.
-They soon got courage enough to come closer to us, and we gave them
-some grog; but the ignorant lubbers spit it out of their mouths at
-first. Then they began to steal things from the boat; and when we gave
-them to understand that what was ours wasn't theirs, they grew saucy.
-A black fellow caught up the master's-mate, and ran away with him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What did they want with him, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To eat him, of course. We fired over their heads, and they dropped
-the master's-mate, who ran back to us, glad enough to get free, for he
-didn't relish the idea of being made a meal of. But when the savages
-found that the guns didn't hurt them, they came whooping up to us
-again, flourishing their spears. Their faces were painted, and they
-had swans' feathers sticking out of their heads. Some of them had skin
-cloaks on, painted all over with figures of naked men, and some of
-them had bones stuck through their nostrils. On they came, yelling and
-leaping like so many devils, thinking what a fine roast the fattest of
-us would make. Then we fired and killed one of them. Directly they saw
-him fall, they scampered off like madmen.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When the conversation flagged, they had music and singing. Joshua
-played, and Dan sang a song, and the Old Sailor sang a good many. The
-best of the Old Sailor's songs was, that they were all about the sea,
-and that every one of them had a chorus in which the company could
-join. Of course he sang &quot;Heave the Lead,&quot; and &quot;Yeo, heave, ho! To the
-windlass let us go, with yo, heave ho!&quot; and &quot;Saturday Night at Sea;&quot;
-and when &quot;Saturday night did come, my boys, to drink to Poll and
-Bess,&quot; he flourished his glass, and drank to those young ladies with a
-will. The number of lovely ladies with whom the Old Sailor made them
-acquainted was something astonishing. Poor Jack had his Poll, whom he
-addressed in a not very dignified manner, when he said to her,--</p>
-<br>
-<div style="font-size:90%">
-<p class="hang1">&quot;What argufies sniv'ling and piping your eye?
-Why what a--(<i>hem!</i>) fool you must be!&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p class="normal">Out of respect for Ellen, the Old Sailor coughed over a good many
-words in the songs he sang; for it must be confessed that there was
-more swearing in them than was absolutely necessary. Poor Jack,
-however, who called his Poll a something fool, made up for it in the
-end by declaring that &quot;his heart was his Poll's&quot; (a very pretty though
-somewhat trite sentiment), and &quot;his rhino's his friend's&quot; (a very
-unwise and foolish sentiment, as the world goes). Then there was a
-Polly whom the lads called so pretty, and who entreated her
-sweetheart, before he sailed in the good ship the &quot;Kitty&quot; to be
-constant to her; and who, when he returned without any rhino, turned
-up her nose at him, as young women do now and then. Then there were
-Poll in &quot;My Poll and my partner Joe&quot; (it was wonderful how faithless
-the Polls were), and Poll in &quot;Every inch a Sailor,&quot; who, when poor
-Haulyard came home in tatters, swore (very unfeminine of her) that she
-had never seen his face. But honest Ned Haulyard was a philosophical
-sailor, for he something'd her for a faithless she, and singing went
-again to sea. The Nancies were a better class of female:--</p>
-<br>
-<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:90%">
-<p style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">&quot;I love my duty, love my friend,<br>
-Love truth and merit to defend,</p>
-<p style="text-indent:5%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">To moan their loss who hazard ran;</p>
-<p style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">I love to take an honest part.<br>
-Love beauty with a spotless heart,</p>
-<p style="text-indent:5%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">By manners love to show the man;</p>
-<p style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">To sail through life by honor's breeze--<br>
-'Twas all along of loving these</p>
-<p style="text-indent:5%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">First made me dote on lovely Nan.&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">And so on, and so on, with gentle Anna and buxom Nan; and poor Fanny,
-who drowned herself in the waves near to the place where hung the
-trembling pines; and poor Peggy, who loved a soldier lad (a marine,
-without doubt); and bonny Kate, who lived happily afterwards with Tom
-Clueline. Ellen joined in the choruses with her sweet voice; but,
-strange to say, she had not been asked to sing until the Old Sailor,
-struck perhaps by a sudden remorse at monopolizing the harmony, called
-upon her for a song. Ellen, nothing loth, asked what song; and Joshua
-said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sing the song you learned of mother, Ellen.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses?'&quot; inquired Ellen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, 'Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses.' 'Tisn't quite a girl's song sir&quot;
-(to the Old Sailor); &quot;but it is a good song, and Ellen sings it
-nicely.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hooray, then, for 'Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses!'&quot; cried the Old
-Sailor, casting a glance of intense admiration at Ellen, who, without
-more ado, sang as follows:--</p>
-<br>
-<div style="font-size:90%">
-<h5>BREAD-AND-CHEESE AND KISSES.</h5>
-<br>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">One day, when I came home fatigued,<br>
-And felt inclined to grumble,</p>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Because my life was one of toil,<br>
-Because my lot was humble,</p>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">I said to Kate, my darling wife,<br>
-In whom my whole life's bliss is,</p>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">&quot;What have you got for dinner, Kate?&quot;<br>
-&quot;Why, bread-and-cheese and kisses!&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Though worn and tired, my heart leaped up<br>
-As those plain words she uttered.</p>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Why should I envy those whose bread<br>
-Than mine's more thickly buttered?</p>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">I said, &quot;We'll have dessert at once.&quot;<br>
-&quot;What's that?&quot; she asked. &quot;Why, this is.&quot;</p>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">I kissed her. Ah, what sweeter meal<br>
-Than bread-and-cheese and kisses!</p>
-<br>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">I gazed at her with pure delight;<br>
-She nodded and smiled gayly;
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">I said, &quot;My love, on such a meal<br>
-I'd dine with pleasure, daily.</p>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">When I but think of you, dear girl,<br>
-I pity those fine misses</p>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Who turn their noses up and pout<br>
-At bread-and-cheese and kisses.</p>
-<br>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">&quot;And when I look on your dear form,<br>
-And on your face so homely;</p>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">And when I look in your dear eyes,<br>
-And on your dress so comely;</p>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">And when I hold you in my arms,<br>
-I laugh at Fortune's misses.</p>
-<p style="margin-left:5%; text-indent:-3%; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">I'm blessed in you, content with you,<br>
-And bread-and-cheese and kisses.&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p class="normal">Thus ended the happy day.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER IX.</h4>
-
-<h5>MINNIE AND HER SHELL.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">So the simple ways of Joshua's simple life were drawing to a
-close. He
-had chosen his career, and to-morrow he would be at the end of the
-quiet groove in which he had hitherto moved, and would step upon
-rougher roads, to commence the battle which dooms many a
-fair-promising life to a despairing death, and out of which no one
-comes without scars and wounds which art and time are powerless to
-heal. To-morrow he was to leave a father almost too indulgent; a mother
-whose heart was as true in its motherly affection for him as the
-needle is to the pole; a friend who gave him a love as tender and as
-pure as that which angels could feel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">During the past week he had been busily engaged in leave-taking, and
-he had been surprised to find what a number of friends he had. There
-was not one of the poor neighbors, in the poor locality in which he
-had passed his boyhood's days, who had not kind words and good wishes
-for him, and who did not give them heartily and without stint. Many a
-hearty handwillshake from men whose hands he had never touched before,
-and many a motherly kiss from women he had been in the habit of saying
-only &quot;Good-morning&quot; to, did Joshua receive. There is a stronger
-knitting of affection between poor people in poor neighborhoods than
-there is among the rich in their wider thoroughfares. Perhaps it is
-the narrow streets that draw them closer to each other; perhaps it is
-the common struggle to keep body and soul together in which they are
-all engaged; perhaps it is the unconscious recognition of a higher law
-of humanity than prevails elsewhere; perhaps it is the absence of the
-wider barriers of exclusiveness, among which the smaller and more
-beautiful flowers of feeling--being so humble and unassuming--are in
-danger of being lost or overlooked. Anyhow the ties of affection are
-stronger among the poor. Putting necessity and sickness aside, more
-mothers nurse their babes from love among the poor than among the
-rich.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The secret of this unanimity of goodwill towards Joshua lay in his
-uniformly quiet demeanor and affectionate disposition. The wonderful
-friendship that existed between Dan and Joshua was a household word in
-the poor homes round about; there was something so beautiful in it,
-that they felt a pride in the circumstance of its having been cemented
-in their midst; and many tender-hearted women said that night to their
-husbands, that they wondered what Dan would do now that Joshua was
-going away. &quot;And Josh, too,&quot; the husband would reply; &quot;do you think
-he won't miss Dan?&quot; But the women thought mostly of Dan in that
-relationship. The romance of the thing had something to do with this
-general interest in his welfare. Here was a young man, one of their
-own order, born and bred among them, who, from no contempt of their
-humble ways of life but from a distinct desire to do better than they
-(not to <i>be</i> better; that they would have resented), had resolved to
-go out into the world to carve a way for himself. It was brave and
-manly; it was daring and heroic. For the world was so wide! Cooped-up
-as <i>they</i> were, what did they know of it? What did they see of it?
-Those of them--the few--who worked at home in their once-a-week
-shirt-sleeves, could raise their eyes from their work, and see the
-dull prospect of over the way; or, resting wearily from the monotonous
-labor, could stroll to their street-doors, and look up and down the
-street in a meaningless, purposeless manner: like automatons in
-aprons, with dirty faces and very black finger-nails, coming out of a
-box and performing a task in which there was necessarily no sense of
-enjoyment.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Those of them--the many--who toiled in workshops other than their
-homes, saw with the rising and the setting of every sun a few narrow
-streets within the circumference of a mile, mayhap. Moving always in
-the same groove, trudging to their workshops every morning, trudging
-home every night--it was the same thing for them day after day. The
-humdrum course of time was only marked by the encroachment of gray
-hairs and white; or by the patching-up of the poor furniture, which
-grew more rheumatic, and groaned more dismally every succeeding
-season; or by the cracking and dismemberment of cups and saucers and
-plates; or by the slow death of the impossible figures on the
-tea-trays--figures which were bright and gay once upon a time, as
-their owners were upon a certain happy wedding-day. Here, as a type,
-are three small mugs, the letters upon which are either quite faded
-away, or are denoted by a very mockery of shrivelled lines, as if
-their lives were being drawn out to the last stage of miserable
-attenuation. Once they proclaimed themselves proudly, and in golden
-letters, &quot;For George, a Birthday Present;&quot; &quot;For Mary Ann, with
-Mother's Love;&quot; &quot;Charley, for a Good Boy.&quot; George and Mary, Ann and
-Charley used to clap their little hands, and swing their little legs
-delightedly, when they and the mugs kept company at breakfast and
-tea-time; but now flesh and crockery have grown old, and are fading
-away in common. The hair on George's head is very thin, although he is
-not yet forty years of age; Mary Ann is an anxious-looking mother,
-with six dirty children, who, as she declares twenty times a day, are
-enough to worry the life out of her; and Charley has turned out any
-thing but &quot;a Good Boy,&quot; being much too fond of public-houses. With
-such like uninteresting variations, the lives of George and Mary Ann
-and Charley were typical of the lives of all the poor people amongst
-whom the Marvels lived. From the cradle to the grave, every thing the
-same; the same streets, the same breakfasts, the same dinners, the
-same uneventful routine of existence, the only visible signs upon the
-record being the deepening of wrinkles and the whitening of hairs. But
-they were happy enough, notwithstanding; and if their pulses were
-stirred into quicker motion when they shook Joshua's hand and wished
-him good luck, there was no envy towards him in their minds, and no
-feeling of discontent marred the genuineness of their God-speed. When
-at candle-time they spoke of Joshua and of the world which he was
-going to see, some of the women said that it would have been better if
-&quot;you, John,&quot; or &quot;you, William,&quot; &quot;had struck out for yourself when you
-were young;&quot; and John and William assenting, sighed to think that it
-was too late for them to make a new start. Well, their time was past;
-the tide which they might have taken at the flood, but did not, would
-never come again to their life's shore. Joshua <i>had</i> taken it at the
-flood, and would be afloat to-morrow; good luck be with him! In the
-heartiness of their good wishes there was no expressed consciousness
-that there was as much heroism in their quiet lives as in the lives of
-great heroes and daring adventurers; which very unconsciousness and
-unexpressed abnegation made that heroism (begging Mr. Ruskin's pardon
-for calling it so) all the grander.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua had bidden the Old Sailor good-by. The dear, simple old fellow
-had given Joshua some golden rules to go by; had enjoined him to be
-respectful and submissive; to learn all he could; to be cheerful
-always, and to do his work willingly, however hard it seemed; not to
-mix himself up in the men's quarrels or grumblings; had told him how
-that some officers were querulous, and some were tyrannical, but that
-he could always keep himself out of mischief by obeying orders; and
-had impressed upon him, more particularly than all, the value of the
-golden motto--Duty. &quot;Keep that for your watchword, my lad,&quot; said the
-Old Sailor, &quot;and you will do.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am glad it is nearly all over,&quot; said Joshua to Dan. &quot;I have only
-two or three more to say good-by to, with the exception of mother and
-father, and Ellen and you, dear Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There's Susan, Jo,&quot; said Dan after a pause. &quot;I wish you could see her
-before you go.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I wish so, too. I am going now to say good-by to Minnie and her
-father.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is he better, Jo?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I haven't seen him for a week; but I don't think he is ever quite
-right here;&quot; touching his forehead.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They were speaking of the street actor, whose name was Basil Kindred.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And Minnie is very pretty, you say.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Very pretty, but with such strange ways, Dan, as I have told you
-before.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; said Dan, looking earnestly at Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sometimes like a woman, which she is not; sometimes like a little
-child, which she is not. Yet for all she is so strange, one can't help
-loving her, and pitying her.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is she at all like Ellen, Jo?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie is not like Ellen,&quot; said Joshua, considering. &quot;Ellen's face is
-calm and peaceful; Minnie's is grander, larger. Minnie is the kind of
-girl for a heroine, and Ellen is not, I think. She is too peaceful.
-Say that Ellen is like a lake, Minnie is like the sea.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A quiet smile passed over Dan's lips, yet a regretful one, too.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You don't know Ellen, Jo,&quot; he said &quot;Give me the lake.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And me the sea,&quot; said Joshua, not meaning it at all with reference to
-the girls, but literally, with reference to his choice of a
-profession.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">From the first part of this conversation it will be gathered that
-Susan Taylor had left her home, and had chosen to keep her residence a
-secret from her family. She was not to blame for it; for she had been
-most unhappy in the family mansion of the Taylors. Although she earned
-her own living, and paid for her board and lodging, her father, a
-drunken, lazy mechanic, had lately been pestering her for small loans,
-to be spent, of course, at the public-house. These she could not
-afford to give him; and when he found that she would not assist him,
-he quarrelled with her. He twitted her about her ungainly person,
-jeered at her strange mannerisms, pricked her with domestic pins and
-needles, and made her life so miserable, that she was glad when the
-culminating quarrel gave her the opportunity to run away.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She had never had a friend. Nearly every girl has a girl-companion
-with whom she exchanges little confidences, and whom she consults as
-to the fashion of the new bonnet, and how it is to be trimmed, the
-pattern of the new dress, and how many flounces it is to have, the
-color of the new piece of ribbon, and how it should be worn, the
-personal appearance and intentions of the last new admirer, and how he
-is to be treated. Susan never had such a companion; worse than that,
-she never had a sweetheart. She had grown to woman's estate without
-ever having experienced the pleasures of courtship, either as a child
-or as a woman. No little boy had taken a liking to her when she was a
-little girl; and when she grew to be a young woman, no young man had
-cast a favorable eye upon her. Sooth to say, there was nothing
-singular in the circumstance; for she was as little attractive
-externally, as a young woman well could be.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">If it were necessary to define and describe her with brevity, a happy
-definition and description might be given in two simple words--Joints
-and Knobs. Susan Taylor was all Joints and Knobs, from the crown of
-her head to the soles of her feet. There was not a straight line about
-her; every square inch of her frame was broken by a joint or
-intersected by a knob. Her face did not contain one perfect feature.
-Bones, with sharp rugged outlines, asserted themselves in her cheeks,
-in her chin, in her nose (most aggressively there), and in the arches
-of her eyes. Her shoulders were suggestive of nothing but
-salt-cellars; her fingers were covered with knuckles; her arms were
-all elbows; and her knees, as she walked, forced themselves into
-notice with offensive demonstrativeness. There was nothing round and
-soft about her. Every part of her was suggestive of Bone; she was so
-replete with mysterious and complicated angles that she might be said
-to resemble a mathematical torture. Her angular proportions, broken
-here by a joint, or intersected there by a knob, did not agree with
-one another. As not one of them would accept a subordinate position,
-they were necessarily on the very worst of terms: like a regiment in
-which every soldier insisted on being colonel, and struggled for the
-position. The result was Anatomical Confusion.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Cupid is popularly represented to be a mischievous young imp, who
-delights in tying persons together who are not in the least suited to
-each other, and as being so reckless and indiscriminate in the use of
-the metaphorical arrow, which he is everlastingly fixing to that
-metaphorical bow with such malicious nicety, that the right man seldom
-finds himself in the right place, and the right woman is similarly
-unfortunate. As a consequence of this eccentric and inhuman conduct,
-long men and short women and long women and short men, get absurdly
-matched, and the mental disparity is often found to be no less than
-the disparity in limb and bulk. But never, surely, did that tricksy
-youngster (who is so convenient to writers as a reference, and in
-various other ways, that they cannot be sufficiently grateful for his
-mythological existence) play a stranger prank than when he made Susan
-Taylor and Basil Kindred acquainted with each other. The evening on
-which Susan, for the first time, saw Basil Kindred act the Ghost
-scenes in &quot;Hamlet,&quot; marked an era in her life not less important than
-that sad era which was commenced by her letting her brother Daniel
-fall from her arms out of the window on to the cruel stones. For if
-ever woman fell in love (which is so violently suggestive that it may
-well be doubted) with man, Susan Taylor, on that evening, fell in love
-with Basil Kindred.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Susan was not the woman to exhibit her passion in words. In
-another fashion she did exhibit it: in the best fashion that devotion
-Can show itself--in deeds. She was not a cunning woman, nor a wise one
-either. Being from the very infirmities of her nature a kind of social
-outcast, she was not likely to consider what the world would say of
-any action of hers. And here was an anomaly; she was neither foolish
-enough nor wise enough to consider what the world would say; yet had
-she considered that her conduct was open to censure, she would not
-have swerved a hair's breadth because of the world's opinion; and this
-very independence proceeded not from a hardened nature, but from a
-nature utterly simple. So she did what a very considerable majority of
-the busy bees in this busy world would consider either a very foolish
-thing or some thing worse. When she left her home she rented a room in
-the miserable house in which Basil Kindred and his daughter resided.
-She did this because she loved him; and yet looking for no return of
-her passion, she did it so that she might make herself useful to him
-and to Minnie. The living she earned as a dressmaker was a poor and a
-scanty one enough; but she managed, out of her small earnings, to
-contribute some little towards the comfort of the couple whose
-acquaintance she had so strangely made.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua was always certain of a warm welcome from Basil and Minnie; an
-affectionate intimacy had sprung up between them, and he had spent
-many a pleasant hour in their company. But in the first flush of their
-intimacy he had been sorely puzzled by Basil Kindred's strange ways
-and oft-times stranger remarks; the wandering restlessness of his
-eyes, and the no less wandering nature of his speech, engendered grave
-doubts whether he was quite right in his mind. And as Joshua looked
-from Basil's fine mobile face to that of his daughter, so like her
-father's in all its grand and beautiful outlines, it distressed him to
-think that her intellect also might be tainted with her father's
-disease. It might not be; it might be merely the want of proper moral
-training that induced her to be so strangely incoherent, so reckless
-and defiant, and yet at the same time so singularly tender in her
-conduct. With Minnie every thing was right or wrong according to the
-way in which it affected herself. She recognized no general law as
-guiding such and such a principle or sentiment. There was this
-similarity and this difference between Minnie and Susan: they both
-ignored the world's opinion and the world's judgment of their actions.
-But where Susan would be meek, Minnie would be defiant; where Susan
-would offend through ignorance, Minnie would offend consciously, and
-be at the same time ready to justify herself and argue the point;
-which latter she would do, of course, only from her point of view.
-Supposing that it could be reduced to weights and measures, Minnie
-would have been content to place herself and her affections on one
-side of the scale, and all the world on the other, with the positive
-conviction that she would tip the scale.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She was very affectionate and docile to Joshua; she looked up to him
-with a kind of adoration, and this tacit acknowledgment of his
-superiority was pleasing to his vanity. He was her hero, and she
-worshipped him, and showed that she did so; and he, too, dangerously
-regarding her as a child, received her worship, and was gratified by
-it. And so she drifted.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now as he entered the room, Minnie sprang towards him with a joyous
-exclamation, and taking his hand, held it tightly clasped in hers as
-she led him to a seat. The room was not so bare of furniture as it was
-when he first saw it. He looked round for Basil Kindred.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Father is not at home, Joshua,&quot; said Minnie. &quot;He will be in soon, I
-dare say.&quot; She pushed him softly into a chair, and sat on the ground
-at his feet. &quot;I am so glad you have come!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But I don't think I have time to stay.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You mustn't go; you mustn't go,&quot; said Minnie, drawing his arm round
-her neck. &quot;I shall be so lonely if you do.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But you were alone before I came in, Minnie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; returned Minnie; &quot;but I did not feel lonely then. I shall now,
-if you go away.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Then I will stop for a little while,&quot; said Joshua, humoring her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Always good!&quot; said Minnie gratefully, resting her lips upon her hand,
-&quot;always good!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why did you not feel lonely before I came, Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I was thinking.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Of what?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Of long, long ago, when father was different to what he is now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It could not have been so long, long ago, little Minnie,&quot;--here came
-a little caressing action from the child,--&quot;you are only--how old?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Fourteen.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And fourteen years ago is not so long, long ago, little Minnie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie repeated her caressing action.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To you it isn't perhaps, but it is to me. It seems almost,&quot; she said,
-placing Joshua's hand upon her eyes, and closing them, &quot;as if I had
-nothing to do with it. Yet I must have had; for mother was mixed up
-with what I was thinking.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But I shall think of something else now that you are here,&quot; she said
-presently. &quot;I am going to listen.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With the hand that was free she took something from her pocket, and
-placing it to her ear, bent her head closer to the ground. She was so
-long in that attitude of watchful silence, that Joshua cried &quot;Minnie&quot;
-to arouse her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hush!&quot; she said; &quot;you must not interrupt me. I am listening. I can
-almost hear it speak.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hear what speak?&quot; asked Joshua, wondering.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie directed his fingers to her ear, and he felt something smooth
-and cold.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is a shell,&quot; she said softly, &quot;and I am listening to the sea.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah,&quot; said Joshua in a voice as soft as hers, &quot;that is because I am
-going to be a sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For that reason. Yes. Call me little Minnie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Little Minnie!&quot; said Joshua tenderly; for Minnie's voice and manner
-were very winsome, and he could not help thinking how quaintly pretty
-her fancy was.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Little Minnie, little Minnie!&quot; whispered Minnie in so soft a tone
-that Joshua could scarcely hear it,--&quot;little Minnie, little Minnie!
-The sea is singing it. How kind the sea is! and how soft and gentle I
-should like to go to sleep like this.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Does the shell sing any thing else, little Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Listen! Ah, but you cannot hear! It is singing, 'Little Minnie,
-little Minnie, Joshua is going to be a sailor. Little Minnie, little
-Minnie, would you like to go with him?'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you answer?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, yes, yes! I should like to go with him, and hear the sea always
-singing like this. I should like to go with him because&quot;--But here
-Minnie stopped.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because what?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because nothing,&quot; said Minnie, taking the shell from her ear. &quot;Now
-the sea is gone, and the singing is gone, and we are waiting at home
-for father.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What for, Minnie? What am I waiting at home for father for?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To see him of course,&quot; answered Minnie.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And to wish him and you good-by,&quot; said Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good-by!&quot; echoed the child, with a sudden look of distress in her
-large gray eyes. &quot;So soon!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes. My ship sails to-morrow.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And this is the last day we shall see you,&quot; she said, her tears
-falling upon his hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The last day for a little while, little Minnie,&quot; he said, striving to
-speak cheerfully.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For how long?&quot; asked the child, bending her head, so that her fair
-hair fell over her face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For a year, perhaps, Minnie,&quot; he answered.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For a long, long year,&quot; she said sorrowfully. &quot;You will not do as
-mother did, will you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How was that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She went away from us one afternoon, and was to come back at night.
-And it rained--oh, so dreadfully!--that night. We were lodging under
-some trees, father, mother, and I. Father was ill--very ill, but not
-with the same kind of illness that he has now sometimes. He had a
-fever. And mother went into the town to get something for us to
-eat--as you did that night when the bad boys threw a stone at father,
-and you brought him home. When father woke we went in search of her.
-But I never remember seeing mother again. And you are going away, and
-perhaps I shall never see you again.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What does the shell say, Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie placed the shell to her ear.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I cannot make out any thing,&quot; she said in a voice of pain. &quot;It isn't
-singing now; it is moaning and sighing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He took the shell and listened.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It will speak to me, because I am a sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And it says?&quot; asked Minnie anxiously.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And it says--no, it sings--'Little Minnie, little Minnie, Joshua is
-going to sea, and Joshua will come back, please God, in a year, with
-beautiful shells and wonderful stories for you and all his friends.
-So, little Minnie, little Minnie, look happy; for there is nothing to
-be sorrowful at.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah!&quot; said Minnie in less sorrowful tones, &quot;if I was a woman and loved
-anybody very much, I would not let him go away by himself.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why, what would you do?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I would follow him.&quot; And she pulled Joshua's head down to hers, and
-whispered, &quot;I should like to go to sea with you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Would you indeed, miss!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; for I love you, oh, so much!&quot; whispered the child innocently in
-the same low tones. &quot;But you wouldn't let me go, would you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should think not. A nice sailor you would make; a weak little thing
-like you!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The girl sprang from her crouching attitude, and stood upright. As she
-did so, expressing in her action what her meaning was, Joshua noticed
-for the first time that she was growing to be large-limbed and strong.
-She tossed her hair from her face, and said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Father says I shall be a tall woman.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well,&quot; she repeated half-proudly and half-bashfully. &quot;I should not
-make such a bad sailor, after all.&quot; And then with a motion thoroughly
-childlike, she knelt on the ground before him; and placing her elbows
-on his knees, rested her chin in her upturned palms, and looked
-steadily into his face. &quot;If I was a woman,&quot; she said slowly and
-earnestly, &quot;I would go with you, even if you would not let me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How would you manage that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I would follow you secretly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You must not say so,&quot; said Joshua reprovingly; &quot;it would be very,
-very wrong.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To follow any one you loved?&quot; questioned the child, shaking her head
-at the same time to denote that she had no doubt whether it would be
-right or wrong. &quot;Wrong to wish to be with any one you loved? It
-would be wrong not to wish it. But&quot;--and she looked round, as if
-fearful, although they were alone, lest her resolution should become
-known--&quot;nobody should know; I would not tell a living soul.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua was silent, puzzled at Minnie's earnestness. Minnie, with the
-shell at her ear, soon broke the silence, however.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Has your friend--the boy you have told me about&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Dan. Has Dan got a shell?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No. I don't suppose he ever thought of it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And yet he loves you very much, and a shell is the only thing that
-can bring the sea to him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who gave you the shell, Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No one.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How did you get it, then?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I took it from a stall.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O Minnie!&quot; exclaimed Joshua, grieved and shocked; &quot;that was very
-wicked.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know it was,&quot; said Minnie simply; &quot;but I did it for you. Two days
-afterwards, when father had money given to him, I asked him for some,
-and he gave it me. I went to the stall where the shells were, and
-asked the man how much each they were. 'A penny,' he said. I gave him
-two pence and ran away. That was good, wasn't it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua shook his head.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It was very wicked to steal the shell; and I don't think you made up
-for it by paying double when you got the money.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Minnie set her teeth close, and said between them, &quot;It was wicked
-at first, but it wasn't wicked afterwards, was it, shell?&quot;--She
-listened with a coaxing air to the shell's reply.--&quot;The shell says it
-wasn't'. Besides, I did it for you; Dan wouldn't have done it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, that he wouldn't.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Shows he doesn't love you as much as I do,&quot; muttered Minnie with
-jealous intonation. &quot;If he did, he would have thought of a shell, and
-would have got it somehow. If he did, he would go with you, and would
-never, never leave you!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, Minnie, listen to me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am listening, Joshua.&quot; She would have taken his hand; but he put it
-behind his back, and motioned her to be still. She knew by his voice
-that something unpleasant was coming, and she set her teeth close.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You know that it is wrong to steal, and you stole the shell.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I did it for you,&quot; she said doggedly. &quot;That does not make it right,
-Minnie. I want you to give me a promise.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will promise you any thing but one thing,&quot; she said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind. You would never guess, so you will never ask me. What am
-I to promise?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That you will never steal any thing again.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think I ever stole any thing but the shell, then?&quot; she asked,
-with an air that would have been stern in its pride if she had not
-been a child.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was on the tip of Joshua's tongue to say, &quot;I don't know what to
-think;&quot; but her manner of putting the question gave the answer to it.
-&quot;No,&quot; he said instead, &quot;I don't think you ever did, Minnie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Her head was stubbornly bent; and she had enough to do to keep back
-her tears. She would not have succeeded had his answer been different.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, I never stole any thing else. Stole is the proper word, I know;
-but it is a nasty one, and makes me ashamed.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is your punishment, Minnie,&quot; said Joshua, wondering at himself
-for his tenaciousness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is my punishment, then,&quot; said Minnie not less doggedly than
-before; &quot;but I did it for you&quot;--nothing would drive her from that
-stand-point--&quot;and I promise you, Joshua, that I will never steal any
-thing again--never, never!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He gave her his hand, and she took it and caressed it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And now, Minnie, about Dan,&quot; he said. &quot;You must not say or think any
-thing ill of him. He is the best-hearted and the dearest friend in the
-world; and I cannot tell you how much I love him, or how much he loves
-me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why doesn't he go to sea with you, then?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua looked at her reproachfully.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your memory is not good, Minnie. He is lame, as I told you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I forgot. He can't go because he is lame. Would he go if his legs
-were sound?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I think he would.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't think,&quot; Minnie said, with a sly look at him; &quot;be sure.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am sure he would then.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Caught!&quot; cried Minnie, clapping her hands, the sly look, in which
-there was simplicity, changing to a cunning one, in which there was
-craft. &quot;Caught, caught, caught!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should like to know how,&quot; said Joshua. &quot;How ridiculous of you,
-Minnie, to cry 'Caught!' as if I was a fox!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, I am the fox,&quot; she cried, shaking her hair over her face with
-enchanting grace. &quot;I am in hiding--just peeping round the corner.&quot; She
-made an opening in her thick hair, and flashed a look at him; a look
-that was saucy, and cunning, and charming, and wilful, all at once.
-&quot;Am I a good fox?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are a goose. Tell me how I am caught.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Listen, then,&quot; throwing her hair back, and becoming logical. &quot;Dan
-loves you as well as any man or woman could love another, you said.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Did I say as well? I thought I said better. I meant better.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's no matter. Dan loves you,&quot;--she held up her left hand, and
-checked off the items on her fingers--&quot;that is one finger. And Dan
-would go to sea with you; and it would be right, because he loves
-you--that is two fingers. But Dan can't go because he is lame--that is
-three fingers. Now I love you, and I am not lame--that is four
-fingers. And it would not be wrong in me to follow you--and that is my
-thumb, the largest reason of all. So you are caught, caught, caught,
-you see.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I do not see,&quot; said Joshua in a very decided voice. &quot;Dan is a boy,
-and you are a girl; and what is right for a boy to do is often wrong
-for a girl. I do not see that I am caught.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Minnie had relinquished the argument. She was satisfied that she
-was right.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you would really be very angry with me if I did it?&quot; she asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should be very angry with you now, Minnie, if it were not that you
-were a stupid little girl, just a trifle too fond of talking nonsense.
-Such nonsense, too! Why, there's Ellen, Dan's sister, <i>she</i> wouldn't
-talk so.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">All the brightness went out of Minnie's face, and a dark cloud was
-there instead.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua noticed it with surprise. He took her hand gently; but she
-snatched it away.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ellen would not behave like that,&quot; he said; &quot;she is too mild and
-gentle.&quot; There came into his mind what he had said to Dan of the two
-girls--that Ellen was like a lake, and Minnie like the sea; and he
-thought how true it was. &quot;It would do you good to know her.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't want to know her,&quot; said Minnie sullenly, &quot;and I don't want to
-be done good to.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I didn't think you would be cross-tempered on my last day at home,&quot;
-said Joshua in a grave and gentle voice. He paused, as if expecting
-her to speak; but she remained silent. &quot;Ah, well,&quot; he said, rising, &quot;I
-shall go and see if I can find your father.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She jumped up and walked with him to the door.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Say that you are not angry with me,&quot; she said in a voice of the
-softest pleading, raising her face to his.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He would have made a different reply, but he saw that her face was
-covered with tears.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Angry with you!&quot; he said kindly. &quot;Who could be angry with you for
-long, little Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She smiled gratefully and thoughtfully as he kissed her; and when he
-had gone, and she had heard his last footstep, she returned to her old
-place upon the floor, and crouching down, placed the shell to her ear,
-and listened to the singing of the sea.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER X.</h4>
-
-<h5>GOODBY.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie's obliviousness of what was right had never before been
-presented so clearly to Joshua. He knew well enough that Minnie,
-although she was aware that it was wrong to steal, could not
-understand that she did wrong in stealing the shell. At the same time
-he could not help feeling tenderly towards her because of that wrong
-action. After all, how much she was to be pitied! Could it be wondered
-at that she was hard to teach, and that she was wayward and wilful,
-living such a lonely life as she lived, with no friend to counsel, no
-mother to guide her? How quaint was her fancy, and what a pretty thing
-it was to see her as he saw her in his imaginings--sitting alone in
-her room, with the shell at her ear, listening to the singing of the
-sea! With what a daintily-caressing motion she nestled to him when he
-called her &quot;Little Minnie!&quot; He repeated the pet words to himself,
-&quot;Little Minnie, little Minnie!&quot; as he walked along, and smiled. As for
-her telling him that she would like to go to sea with him, what was it
-but a childish whimsey? If he had not contradicted her, and made a
-matter of importance of it, she would have said it, and there an end.
-She would like to go to sea with him, and would follow him if she were
-a woman: Well! she was but a child, and the wish was as innocent as
-her declaration that she loved him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When he had thought out all this, he thought of to-morrow, and looked
-round upon the familiar streets and the familiar houses with a pang of
-regret. To-morrow he would be far away from them, and every succeeding
-day would take him farther and farther away from them and all that he
-loved. From mother, father, the Old Sailor, his pet birds, and from
-Dan--ah! dear, dear Dan! Did ever boy or man have such a friend? Then
-there was Ellen, his dear little sweetheart in the days when they were
-children together. Was there ever such another unselfish little maid
-as that? So devoted, so tender, so loving! How quickly she had won
-the heart of the Old Sailor! He remembered that old salt saying,
-pointing his great finger at Ellen as he said it, &quot;Joshua, my lad,
-that little lass there is the prettiest, the best, the truest and the
-kindest-hearted in these dominions.&quot; And he remembered himself looking
-at Ellen's mild face--peaceful as a lake--and saying, &quot;So she is,
-sir,&quot; and meaning it heartily; and he remembered the Old Sailor
-saying, &quot;That's right, my lad; all you've got to do is to mind your
-bearings.&quot; Although he had answered, &quot;Yes, sir, I will,&quot; he wondered
-afterwards, and he found himself wondering now, what on earth the Old
-Sailor meant by saying, &quot;Mind your bearings.&quot; But what matter? Ellen
-<i>was</i> the prettiest, the best, the truest, and the kindest-hearted
-lass in these or any other dominions. God bless her!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As he thought of these things, he felt himself growing so
-soft-hearted, that he stopped and stamped his feet upon the pavement,
-and thumped himself upon the chest, saying as he did so, between
-laughing and crying, &quot;This won't do, Josh; this won't do.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He had given himself a score of thumps, and had said, &quot;This won't do,
-Josh,&quot; half-a-score of times, when loud cries for help fell upon
-his ears. He had been walking in the direction of the river, through
-some of the streets where he would be most likely to find Basil
-Kindred; and he was in a locality where there was a number of low
-public-houses, patronized by the worst class of seamen. Turning in the
-direction of the cry, Joshua saw a woman run swiftly out of a narrow
-thoroughfare. Pursuing her was a man, a dark-looking fellow, with
-glittering eyes, and rings in his ears, and a knife in his hand, and
-with all his copper-colored fingers and black-serpent locks of hair
-flashing in the air with evil intent. Impelled by the unmistakable air
-of terror in the form of the flying girl, and the unmistakable air of
-mischief in the form of the pursuing man--partly, also, by the
-impulsion born of the hunting spirit implanted in man and beast,
-Joshua started off at a great pace, and flew after the flying couple.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was that part of the day when the neighborhood was most quiet. All
-the men were at work in the dockyards, and the few women about (having
-a wholesome horror probably of a man with an open knife in his hand,
-and being perhaps accustomed to such diversions) seemed disinclined to
-take part in the chase. With the exception of one drunken creature,
-with a blotched and bloated face, who made a frantic motion to follow,
-but being tripped up by her draggling petticoats, stumbled, more like
-a heap of rags than a woman, into the gutter, Where she lay growling
-indistinctly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The flying woman and the pursuing man were fleet of foot, but Joshua
-was younger and more nimble than they. As he gained upon them, a dim
-consciousness stole upon him that he knew them; and, as he approached
-nearer, the doubt grew into conviction. The almost breathless woman,
-throwing affrighted looks behind her, as if a dozen men were pursuing
-her instead of one, was Susan; and the evil-looking man who was bent
-on running her down was the Lascar who served the Old Sailor, and who
-cooked for him, and would have poisoned him for rum and tobacco. Some
-other than those, the ruling cravings of his existence, influenced him
-now. All the passions of love and hate, and the desire to achieve his
-purpose by striking terror, were expressed in every motion of every
-limb: they were so eloquent and earnest in the savage pursuit that
-they seemed to proclaim their owner's intention, as he raced after the
-panting girl.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He was almost upon her, and she felt his ugly lips reeking their
-detestable flavor of rum and tobacco upon her neck, when Joshua,
-coming up to him, seized him by the throat. He had been so savagely
-vindictive in the pursuit, that Joshua's hand upon his throat was the
-first indication he received that he was being himself pursued; but,
-wasting no look upon his pursuer, he slipped from Joshua like an
-eel--his neck was redolent of grease--and with an inarticulate cry of
-rage and baffled lust, he sprang after Susan again, who had gained a
-few steps by Joshua's ineffectual interposition. But Susan, thoroughly
-bewildered and terrified, turned into a blind alley, and perceiving
-that there was no thoroughfare, and that she was trapped, fell upon
-the rough stones, prostrate from fear and exhaustion.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">On one side of the blind alley were four or five houses, in which no
-signs of life were visible. They seemed stricken to death by disease.
-On the other side was a black dead wall, which shut out the sky.
-Before the Lascar could reach Susan--what the man's intention was, or
-what he would have done in his wild fury, he, being more beast than
-man, might probably not have been able to explain--Joshua had knocked
-the knife out of his hand, and had knocked him down with a blow, the
-force of which astonished Joshua himself, even in the midst of his
-excitement. Almost before Joshua could realize what had occurred, the
-cowardly Lascar was crouching by the side of the dead wall, as if his
-lair were there, and Joshua was on his knee assisting Susan to recover
-herself; keeping a wary look, however, upon the knife, which was lying
-in the road at an equal distance from him and the Lascar. The Lascar
-saw it too--saw it without looking at it, and without seeming to see
-it. A surprising change had taken place in him. A minute since a
-volcano of delirious lust was raging in his breast, and every nerve in
-his body was quivering with dangerous passion; now, as if by magic, he
-was coiled up like a snake, with no motion of life in him but the
-quiet glitter of his eyes, which watched every thing, but seemed to
-watch nothing.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is it all about, Susan?&quot; asked Joshua in wonderment, after a
-pause. But, before Susan could reply, a crawling motion on the part of
-the Lascar towards the knife caused Joshua to spring into the road.
-The snake had no chance with the panther. The Lascar was knocked back
-to his position by the dead wall, and Joshua stood over him grasping
-the knife. This was the most eventful transaction that had ever
-occurred to Joshua; and, as he stood over his antagonist palming the
-knife, a strange sensation of pride in his own strength tingled
-through his veins. There was blood upon the Lascar's face; Joshua had
-struck him so fiercely as to loosen one of his teeth--so decidedly to
-loosen it, that the Lascar put his finger into his mouth and drew it
-out. He said nothing, however, but kept the tooth clasped in his
-hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You black devil!&quot; exclaimed Joshua, gazing upon the crouching figure
-with a kind of loathing amazement. &quot;What do you mean by all this?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Lascar wiped the blood from his mouth with his sleeve, and shaking
-the hair from his eyes, threw upon Joshua a covert look of deadly
-malice--a look expressive of a bloody-minded craving to have Joshua
-helpless on the stones beneath him, that he might press the life out
-of his enemy. His eye spoke, but his tongue uttered no word. Raging
-inwardly as he was with bad passion, he had sufficient control over
-himself to suppress any spoken manifestation of it. But his attitude
-and demeanor were not less dangerous for all that.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He follows me everywhere,&quot; said Susan, still gasping and panting for
-breath. &quot;He dogs me by day and by night. He waylays me in the dark,
-and I can hardly get away from him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What for?&quot; demanded Joshua, with his eye upon the Lascar, who was
-sitting cunningly quiet, nursing his wounded mouth.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know,&quot; replied Susan, with an appalled look over her
-shoulder, as if she were haunted by a fear that the spirit of the
-Lascar was there, notwithstanding that he was crouching before her in
-the ugly flesh. &quot;I am afraid to think.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Afraid! in broad daylight!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Day or night it is all the same,&quot; moaned Susan. &quot;Whenever he sees me,
-he dogs me till I am ready to die. You don't know his power--you don't
-know his power!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What were you doing before I saw you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I was looking for some one.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For whom?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For Mr. Kindred,&quot; with a curious hesitation.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For Mr. Kindred!&quot; exclaimed Joshua, more amazed than ever; &quot;why for
-him?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is ill. I will tell you about it by and by,&quot; replied Susan
-nervously. &quot;I thought I should find him in this neighborhood, and
-while I was looking for him, he&quot;--pointing to the Lascar with a
-shudder--&quot;he saw me and spoke to me, and would not leave me--wanted me
-to go with him and drink with him, and when I refused, he seized me,
-and then--then--I scratched him--and--I don't remember any thing more,
-except that I was afraid he wanted to kill me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua looked up at the Lascar's face, and observed the scratch for
-the first time. It was a long scratch downwards from the eye to the
-wounded mouth. The Lascar made no attempt to hide it, but sat still,
-with his hand on his mouth.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Serve you right, you black dog!&quot; exclaimed Joshua. &quot;What do you mean
-by dogging her? What do you mean by following her with a knife? Why,
-you Lascar dog, for two pins&quot;--he raised his hand indignantly, and
-advanced a step towards the Lascar, who made a shrinking movement
-backwards, although in truth he could not get nearer to the dead wall
-than he was already.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't, Joshua, don't!&quot; cried Susan, seizing his arm, and clinging to
-him imploringly. &quot;Don't touch him, for God's sake, or&quot;--with another
-scared look behind her--&quot;he'll haunt you as he haunts me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A taunting wicked smile crossed the Lascar's lips, but it was gone a
-moment afterwards. It might have been the shadow of an evil thought
-finding expression there.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How does he haunt you more than you have already told me he does?&quot;
-demanded Joshua in a great heat. &quot;You don't think he can frighten me
-as he frightens you, Susan, do you? The black dog! Look at him! He's
-frightened of a white man's little finger!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hush!&quot; implored Susan. &quot;He haunts me when he is not near me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How can he do that, you foolish girl?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He does it--he <i>can</i> do it--with his double!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;His double?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He has a double--a spirit, a wicked spirit&quot;--she turned her head
-slowly and trembled in every limb; &quot;and he told me it should haunt me,
-and follow me wherever I go. And it does! I feel it behind me when I
-don't see him. It is there now! It is there now!&quot; And wrought to the
-highest pitch of mental terror and excitement, Susan threw up her
-hands, and would have fallen to the ground but for Joshua's protecting
-arm.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The taunting smile came again upon the Lascar's lips, as he secretly
-watched Susan's terror. With a special maliciousness he flashed his
-fingers towards her, as if he were issuing a command to his double not
-to leave her. It was evidence of the power he possessed over her weak
-mind that, notwithstanding her almost fainting condition, a stronger
-shuddering came upon her when he made even that slight motion.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Feeling that, for Susan's sake, it was necessary to put an end to the
-scene, Joshua, with an indignant motion, commanded the Lascar to leave
-them. The Lascar rose submissively, like a whipped dog, and so stood
-with bent head before Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now then, what are you waiting for?&quot; asked Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My knife,&quot; answered the Lascar doggedly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not likely,&quot; said Joshua; &quot;I know you too well to let you have it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What do you know of me?&quot; asked the Lascar in a low guttural voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have heard enough of you from Mr. Meddler&quot;--the Lascar grated his
-teeth with tigerish ferocity--&quot;you and the likes of you. I know how
-free you are with your knives, you Lascars, on land and on sea. Be
-off!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My knife!&quot; again demanded the Lascar, with his eyes directed to
-Joshua's feet; but he saw Joshua's face and every motion of Joshua's
-body. &quot;My knife! It is mine. I bought it and paid for it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Stole it more likely,&quot; said Joshua with a sneer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is a lie. I bought it. Even if I did steal it, you have no right
-to it. Give me my knife, and let me go.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Joshua reflected. Clearly he had no just claim to the man's knife,
-and had no right to retain it. His mind was soon made up. Releasing
-his hold of Susan, he placed the blade beneath his foot, and broke it
-off close to the handle. Then he threw the handle and the blade over
-the Lascar's head. A dangerous fire gleamed in the man's downcast eyes
-and a cold-blooded grating of teeth came from his mouth. He stood
-silent for a few moments, with his hands tightly pressed, striving to
-master the devil that was raging within him. But he could not restrain
-his passion.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Curse you!&quot; he hissed; &quot;I owe you something; I will pay it you, by
-hell!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He crouched to receive the blow which he expected Joshua would give
-him, in return for his curse. But no blow was given nor intended; yet
-he quivered as if he had been struck before he spoke again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;See you!&quot; he cried; &quot;I never forget--never--never! My turn will come.
-You called me black devil&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So you are,&quot; said Joshua scornfully. &quot;And black dog--dog of a
-Lascar!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So you are.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You shall pay for it! If it is years before I can pay you, you shall
-be paid for it! See you--remember!&quot; With all his fingers menacingly,
-as if each was possessed with a distinct will, and was swearing
-vengeance against Joshua. &quot;Your life shall pay for it--more than your
-life shall pay for it!&quot; He spat upon the ground and trod savagely upon
-the spittle. &quot;I mark you--see!&quot; With his forefinger he marked a cross
-in the air. &quot;I put this cross against you--curse you!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan, gazing on with sight terror-fixed, saw the infuriated man stamp
-upon the stones, as if he had Joshua's life-blood beneath his foot,
-and then saw the cross marked in the air. The fire of her fevered
-imagination gave red color to the shadowy lines; and when the Lascar
-lowered his forefinger, she saw the recorded cross standing
-unsupported in the air--a cross of bright red blood. Fascinated, she
-gazed until the bright color faded into two dusky lines, and so
-remained. Joshua laughed lightly at the vindictive action and the
-curse; yet he did not feel quite at his ease.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come, Susan,&quot; he said, &quot;let us be going.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Susan did not move. Every sense was absorbed in watching the
-dreadful cross and the Lascar's passion-distorted face. He, stooping
-to pick up the handle of the knife and the broken blade, turned again
-upon Joshua, and remained faithful to his theme.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't forget,&quot; he said in his low, bad voice, the words coming slowly
-from a throat almost choked with passion. &quot;By this&quot;--placing his hand
-upon his wounded mouth--&quot;and these&quot;--holding up the pieces of the
-knife--&quot;I will keep you in mind. If it is to-morrow, or next week, or
-next month, you shall be paid! The dog of a Lascar never forgets! See
-you--remember!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Storm away,&quot; said Joshua, drawing Susan aside to allow the Lascar to
-pass. &quot;You will have to be very quick about it, for to-morrow I go to
-sea.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You do, eh!&quot; exclaimed the Lascar, with another harsh grating of his
-teeth, and stopping suddenly in his course. &quot;See you now--take this
-with you for my good-by!&quot; With a swift motion, he cut his finger with
-the broken blade, and shook the blood at Joshua. It fell in a sprinkle
-over his clothes, and a drop plashed into his face. The Lascar saw it,
-and laughed. &quot;Take that with you for luck!&quot; he cried. &quot;By that mark I
-shall live to pay you, and you will live to be paid!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So saying, he turned and fled. Joshua sprang after him, but the man
-was out of sight in a minute. Returning to Susan, Joshua found her
-sitting upon the pavement, nursing her knees and sobbing
-distressfully.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O Josh!&quot; she cried, &quot;it is a bad omen.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not at all,&quot; said Joshua, cooling down a little, and wiping the spot
-of blood from his face. &quot;What does the old proverb say? 'Curses always
-come home to roost.' Do you hear me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was evident that she did not; her fright was still strong upon her.
-With a shrinking movement of her head, she looked slowly round, and
-clutching Joshua's hand, whispered, &quot;For pity's sake, don't let him
-come near me! Hold me tight! Keep close to me! He is not gone!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With a firm and gentle force, Joshua compelled her to stand upright.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is no one here but you and I,&quot; he said, in a firm voice. &quot;You
-are letting your fancies make a baby of you. There is no one here but
-you and I. If you will not believe what I say--I can see, I suppose,
-and I am calm, while you are in a regular fever--if you will not
-believe what I say, I shall leave you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, no!&quot; she cried, clinging to him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He compelled her to walk two or three times up and down the court. His
-decided action calmed her. She gave vent to a sigh of relief, and
-wiped her eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's right,&quot; said Joshua as they walked out of the court. &quot;Now I
-can tell you that I am glad I have met you. I join my ship to-morrow.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I had no idea you were going away so soon.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am going now to see if Mr. Kindred is at home.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I live in the same house as he does,&quot; she said, looking timidly at
-Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is strange. Are you and he intimate?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes. They are poor, you know, Joshua.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So are you, Susey.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But I can help them a little. He's often ill, and Minnie isn't strong
-enough to take care of him, and so I nurse him sometimes. Minnie and I
-are great friends.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When they arrived at Basil Kindred's poor lodging, Minnie met them at
-the door. With her finger to her lips, she motioned them to be quiet.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Tread softly,&quot; she whispered; &quot;father has come home, and is lying
-down.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They walked to the bed, and saw Basil Kindred lying on the bed in
-unquiet sleep. Susan placed her hand on his hot forehead, and said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have been afraid of this for a long time, Josh. He has got a fever.
-What would he do without me now?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There was a touch of pride in her voice as she asked the question. The
-pride arose from the conviction that the man she loved really needed
-her help, and from the knowledge that she could make some little
-sacrifice for him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is very, very ill, I think,&quot; whispered Minnie.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We will make him well between us, Minnie,&quot; said Susan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Al! the fears by which she was assailed but a few minutes since were
-gone. Joshua was glad to see that, at all events.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie took Susan's hand gratefully, and kissed it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She has been so good to us, Joshua,&quot; she said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan's eyes kindled, and she directed to Joshua a look which said,
-&quot;Have I not done right in coming to live here? See how useful I can
-be, and how happy I am!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I shall tell them at home where you live, Susey,&quot; said Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Very well. Give my love to Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua nodded, and bent over Basil Kindred. The action disturbed the
-sleeping man. He seized Joshua's wrist in his burning hand, and said,
-in a trembling voice, &quot;She died in my arms, and the earth was her bed.
-The stars were ashamed to look upon her. Well they might be! Well they
-might be!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is speaking of his wife,&quot; said Susan softly to Joshua. &quot;He loved
-her very dearly, and would have died for her. When she died, his heart
-almost broke.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Sympathy and devotion made her voice like sweet music. Joshua looked
-at her with a feeling of wonder, and was amazed at the change that had
-come over her. An hour ago, she was crouching in drivelling terror,
-overpowered by absurd fancies; now she moved about cheerfully, strong
-in her purpose of love. But he had never in all his life seen her as
-he saw her now. He bade her good-by, and she wished him Godspeed, and
-kissed him. Minnie accompanied him to the door.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good-by, dear little Minnie,&quot; he said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good-by,&quot; she said, with tears in her voice. &quot;You forgive me, don t
-you, for what I said this afternoon?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, my dear.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah! I like to hear you speak like that; it sounds sweet and good.
-Say, 'I forgive you, little Minnie.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But I haven't any thing to forgive, now I come to think of it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, you have. You say that out of your good nature. You mustn't go
-away and leave me to think that you are angry with me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am not angry with you, Minnie. After all, what you did, you did
-through love, and there could not be much wrong in it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The brightest of bright expressions stole into her face, and she
-clasped her hands with joy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Say that again, Joshua, word for word, as you said it just now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What you did, you did through love,&quot; repeated Joshua to please her,
-&quot;and there could not be much wrong in it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O Joshua!&quot; she cried, pressing her hands to her face, &quot;you have made
-me almost quite happy. I have heard father say the same thing, but in
-different words. Now I shall follow you to sea. Yes, I shall, with
-this,&quot; holding up her shell. &quot;To-morrow night, and every night that
-you are at sea, I shall listen to my shell and think of you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Stupid little Minnie,&quot; he said affectionately.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you will come back in a year?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I hope so, please God.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Then I shall be growing quite a woman,&quot; she said thoughtfully.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The next moment she raised her face quickly to his. The tears were
-streaming down it. As he bent to her, she caught him round the neck,
-and kissed him once, twice, thrice, with more than the passionate
-affection, but with all the innocence, of a child. Then she ran into
-the house; and Joshua, taking that as a farewell, walked slowly
-homewards, to go through the hardest trial of all.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">That hardest trial through which he had to go awaited him at home. All
-the members of the Marvel family, and Dan and Ellen Taylor, were
-assembled together in the old familiar kitchen. They were all of them
-sad at heart, and made themselves sadder by vain little attempts to be
-cheerful. The tea was a very silent affair, and the two or three extra
-delicacies provided by Mrs. Marvel--as if it were a feast they were
-sitting down to--were failures. The most remarkable feature about the
-tea was the pretence they all made to eat and drink a great deal, and
-the miserableness of the result. They pretended to accomplish
-prodigies, and handed about the bread-and-butter and the cake very
-industriously, as if it were each person's duty to be mightily anxious
-about every other person's appetite, and to utterly ignore his own.
-But every thing in the way of eating and drinking was a mistake. The
-bread-and-butter was disregarded, and was taken away in disgrace; the
-cake was slighted, and retired in dudgeon. It was a relief when the
-tea-things were cleared. Mrs. Marvel was the bravest of the party; she
-who had so strongly protested against Joshua's going to sea, did all
-she could to administer little crumbs of comfort to every one of them,
-and especially to her husband, who had so heartily encouraged Joshua
-not to do as his father had done before him, but who was now the most
-outwardly miserable person in the kitchen. Thus, Mrs. Marvel sang
-snatches of songs, and bustled about as if she really enjoyed Joshua's
-going, and was glad to get rid of him. When she had accomplished a
-good deal of nothing, she rose and did nothing else; and when that was
-done, she sat down and remonstrated with her good man, and would even
-have rejoiced if she could have worried him into blowing her up.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't take on so, George,&quot; she said; &quot;you ought to be cheerful
-to-night of all nights. What is the use of fretting? Joshua's going to
-make a man of himself, and to do good for all of us--ain't you, my
-dear?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I intend it, mother, you may be sure.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Of course you do; and here is father in the dumps when he ought to be
-up in the skies.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Some day, I hope,&quot; said George Marvel, mustering up spirit to have
-his joke in the midst of his sadness; &quot;not just now, though. I want to
-see what sort of a figure Josh will cut in the world first. Give me my
-pipe, Maggie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mrs. Marvel made a great fuss in getting the pipe, knocking down a
-chair, and clattering things about, and humming a verse of her
-favorite song, &quot;Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses;&quot; and really made matters
-a little less sad by her bustle. Then, instead of handing her husband
-the pipe without moving from her seat, as she might have done, she
-made a sweep round the table, and pinched Ellen's cheek, and patted
-Dan on the head, and wiped her eyes on the sly, and kissed Joshua, and
-so worked her way to George Marvel, and put the pipe between his lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are as active as a girl, Maggie,&quot; said George Marvel, putting his
-arm round her waist, and gently detaining her by his side.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She looked down into his eyes, and for the life of her could not help
-the tears gathering in her own. She made no further attempts to be
-cheerful; and what little conversation was indulged in occurred
-between long intervals of silence. They had an early supper; for
-Joshua was to rise at daybreak. When supper was over, George Marvel
-took out the Bible, and in an impressive voice read from it the one
-hundred and seventh Psalm. They all stood round the table with bent
-heads, Joshua standing between his mother and Dan, clasping a hand of
-each. Very solemn was George Marvel's voice when he came to the
-twenty-third verse:--</p>
-<br>
-<div style="font-size:90%">
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">&quot;They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great
-waters;</p>
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">These see the works of the Lord, and His wonders in the deep.</p>
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">For He commandeth and raiseth the stormy wind, which lifteth up the
-waves thereof.</p>
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">They mount up to the heaven, they go down again to the depths;
-their soul is melted because of trouble.</p>
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, and are at
-their wits' end.</p>
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">Then they cry unto the Lord in their trouble, and He bringeth them
-out of their distresses.</p>
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">He maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still.</p>
-<p class="normal" style="margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px">Then are they glad because they be quiet; so He bringeth them unto
-their desired haven.&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p class="normal">When the reading of the Psalm was over, and they had stood silent for
-a little while, they raised their heads, but could scarcely see each
-other for the tears in their eyes. Then they kissed, and said
-goodnight; and Joshua, casting a wistful glance round the kitchen,
-every piece of furniture and crockery in which appeared to share in
-the general regret, assisted Dan up to his bedroom for the last time.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They had scarcely time to sit down before the handle was gently
-turned, and George Marvel entered. In the room were all Joshua's
-little household gods--his accordion, his favorite books, and his dear
-little feathered friends.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">George Marvel threw his arm round Joshua's waist, and drew him close.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What are you going to do with the birds, Josh?&quot; he asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dan will take care of them, father.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't fret at leaving them--or us. Be a man, Josh--be a man,&quot; he
-said, with the tears running down his face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, dear father, I will,&quot; said Joshua with a great sob.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;An don't forget father and mother, my boy.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, father, never!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It's better than being a wood-turner, Josh. Don't you think so?&quot;
-doubting at the last moment the wisdom of his having encouraged Joshua
-in the step he was about to take.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A great deal better, father. You'll see!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's right, Josh--that's right! I'm glad to hear you say so.
-Goodnight, my boy. God bless you!&quot; And pressing Joshua in his arms,
-and kissing him, George Marvel went away to bed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He had not been gone two minutes before the handle of the door was
-turned again, and Mrs. Marvel's pale face appeared. She did not enter
-the room; and Joshua ran to her. She drew him on to the narrow
-landing, and shut the door, so that they were in darkness. She pressed
-him to her bosom, and kissed him many times, and cried over him
-quietly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O mother!&quot; whispered Joshua, &quot;shall I go? Shall I go?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hush, dear child,&quot; Mrs. Marvel said. &quot;It is the very best thing; and
-you must not doubt now. Bless you, my dear, dear child! You will come
-home a man; and we shall all be so proud of you--so proud--and happy!&quot;
-She pressed him closer, and tried to speak cheerfully; but it was a
-poor attempt. &quot;And write whenever you can, and tell us every thing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; I will be sure.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Be a good boy, Joshua.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, mother.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you will say your prayers every night?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will, mother.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dear child, God will protect you. I shall think of you of a night
-saying your prayers my dear, and it will comfort me so! And here I am,
-keeping my boy out of bed, like a selfish, selfish, selfish mother!
-Now, my dear, one more kiss, and say goodnight.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He kissed her again, and she left his arms, and crept softly to her
-room. These heart-shocks were hard to bear, and he paused to recover
-himself before he re-entered the room. Dan did not look at him, nor
-ask him any questions. But Joshua sat down beside Dan, and said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It was mother kept me, Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I know, Jo dear. There's somebody else at the door.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was Sarah, who asked if she might come in. Of course she might. And
-might Ellen come in? Of course. So Ellen came in, and she and Sarah
-sat with their brothers for a few minutes. They talked quietly
-together, and Joshua drew close to Ellen, and grew calmer as he looked
-at her sweet peaceful face. She raised her eyes shyly to his, and told
-him she had a little present for him, and would he accept it? <i>There</i>
-was a question to ask him! Joshua answered almost gayly. She produced
-her present--a poor little purse, which she had herself worked for
-him--and Joshua kissed it, and kissed her afterwards, and she nestled
-to his side very tenderly and very prettily, and cast down her eyes,
-and was perfectly happy. The girls did not stay long. Goodnight was
-said again and again, and Joshua asked Ellen to kiss him, and she did
-so without hesitation. When they were gone, Joshua sat down, and
-rested his head upon his hands. He was weary after the day's
-excitement, but although he was tired, he was wakeful, and did not
-feel inclined for sleep. So he and Dan had a long chat together,
-recalling the many tender memories that enriched their friendship.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have a present for you, too, Jo,&quot; said Dan, producing a Bible.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua opened it, and read on the first page, &quot;From Dan, to his
-dearest friend and brother, Joshua. With undying love and confidence.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;With undying love and confidence,&quot; mused Joshua. &quot;Nothing could ever
-change our friendship, Dan, could it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing, Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come, now,&quot; said Joshua, &quot;suppose, for the sake of argument, that I
-was to turn out bad.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan smiled. &quot;That couldn't happen, Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Thereupon Joshua told Dan the adventure he had had that day with Susan
-and the Lascar. &quot;And, do you know, Dan, when I knocked him down, and
-saw his mouth bleeding. I was glad--savagely glad, I am sorry to say.
-Yet afterwards when I thought of it, and when I think of it now, it
-seems as if it was a bad feeling that possessed me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It doesn't seem so to me, Jo; it gives me greater confidence in you.
-If you had not acted so, what would have become of poor Susan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's true,&quot; said Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I knew all along, Jo dear, that you were loving and tender and good,
-but I did not know until now that you were so bold and brave. And so
-strong too! I am proud of you. You can't tell what may happen. Think
-of this strange new world you are going to now, Jo, and of the strange
-things the Old Sailor has told us of it. You have no more idea of the
-wonders you will see than I have. But you will see them, and I shall
-see them through you. Listen now to me, Jo. I love you, my dearest
-friend and brother, and you have my undying love and confidence. I, a
-poor helpless cripple, had no future of my own; and you have given me
-one. I live in you. I shall follow you in my thoughts, in my dreams.
-Somehow, Jo, our minds have grown together, and I smile at your words
-that you might turn out bad. Could you believe it of me, if I was
-strong like you even?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You answer for me Jo. You have always been noble and good to me, and
-you will always be the same. I would not think of thanking you, Jo,
-for what you have done for me--I would not think of thanking you for
-making my poor crippled legs a blessing to me instead of a burden. Not
-with words do I or can I repay you--but with undying love and
-confidence. Kiss me now, Jo, and say that you fully understand my
-friendship and truth.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Fully, Dan;&quot; kissing him. &quot;And I have never forgotten what I promised
-you a long time ago, Dan. Wherever I am, and whatever I shall see I
-will think, 'Dan is here with me, although I cannot see him.' Although
-we are parted, we shall be together.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, in spirit, Jo dear,&quot; said Dan with a beautiful light of
-happiness upon his face. &quot;And now, goodnight.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good night, Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If I am asleep in the morning, Jo, do not wake me. I am content to
-part from you now with this goodnight.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Very well, Dan. Goodnight.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Goodnight, MY FRIEND.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With that Dan turned to the wall, and Joshua, going to the bird-cages
-hanging in that the room, said goodnight to the birds. They were
-asleep on their perches, and he did not disturb them. &quot;They will give
-me a chirrup in the morning,&quot; he thought, and, blowing out the candle,
-he said his prayers and went to bed. But he could not sleep; the
-events of the day presented themselves to his mind in the strangest
-forms. Minnie and her shell came and faded away, and her place was
-filled by Susan nursing Basil Kindred; then came the ugly figure of
-the Lascar crouching down, and afterwards making a cross against him,
-and cursing him; his father reading the Psalm, while they all stood
-round; he and his mother standing in the dark passage, and his mother
-sobbing over him; Ellen kissing him and nestling close to him, oh so
-prettily and innocently! All these pictures presented themselves to
-him consecutively at first; but presently they grew disturbed, and the
-Lascar, the evil genius of the group, was mischievously and
-triumphantly at work, now in one shape, now in another. Joshua and
-Ellen were sitting together when the Lascar came between them, and
-struck Ellen out of the picture. Then the two were locked in a deadly
-struggle on the ground, and the Lascar, overpowering him, knelt upon
-his chest and hissed, &quot;I could take your life, but that won't satisfy
-me. More than your life shall pay for what you have done.&quot; Other
-phases of his fancies were, that Dan believed him to be false. &quot;My
-doing!&quot; hissed the Lascar. That Ellen believed him to be wicked. &quot;My
-doing!&quot; hissed the Lascar. That they all believed him to be bad. &quot;My
-doing!&quot; hissed the Lascar. That they were all grouped together, and
-were turning from him, and that the Lascar, holding him fast,
-whispered that that was his revenge. At length the combinations became
-so distressing, that Joshua, to shake off the fancies, rose in his bed
-and opened his eyes. The moonlight was streaming in through the
-window, and Joshua crept quietly to the water-jug and sprinkled some
-water over his face. Then, his mind being calmer, he knelt down by the
-side of the bed; and Dan, who had not slept, raised himself upon his
-elbow, and, seeing his friend in prayerful attitude, smiled softly to
-himself and was glad.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XI.</h4>
-
-<h5>WHAT OCCURRED AFTER JOSHUA'S DEPARTURE.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The nicest mathematical calculations of the probability of
-events are
-not uncommonly subjected to shocks which, to those dull and
-unreflective persons who cannot distinguish between rule and
-exceptions, seem to give the lie to science. Yesterday the world was
-at peace, and rulers and politicians were eloquent in phrases of
-friendship and goodwill to the inhabitants of every nation on the
-face of the earth. To-day the world is at war, and rulers and
-politicians, hot with wrath at a cunningly-provoked insult, are eager
-to avenge traditional wrongs at any expense of blood and human
-suffering, and to resent what they choose to call national
-humiliation. Yesterday two nations clasped hands, and smiled upon one
-another. Suddenly, as thus they stood, a fire--kindled by the worst of
-secret passions and by the lust of self-aggrandizement--flashed into
-their palms, and they threw each other off, and drew the sword. A more
-serious shock was never given to the calculation of the probable
-course of events.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yesterday peace was certain, and men were preparing to gather the
-harvests; today war is raging, and the cornfields are steeped in
-blood.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So have I seen in a far-off country--now almost in its infancy, but
-whose growth is swift, and whose manhood will be grand--a sluggish
-river rolling lazily to the sea. Walking inland along its banks, now
-broadened by fair plains, now narrowed by towering ranges, I have come
-suddenly upon the confluence of it and another river, whose waters,
-springing from cloud-tipped mountains of snow, rush laughingly down
-the grand old rocks. Here, in the narrow pass where the rivers meet,
-the gray sluggish stream of a sleeper opposes itself to the
-marvellously blue waters of a passionate life. One, dull and inert,
-rolls like a soulless sluggard sullenly to the sea; the other, with
-its snow-fringed lines reflected in its restless depths of blue, leaps
-and laughs as it flashes onwards, like a godlike hero, to the mightier
-waters of the Pacific. But a few hundred yards away from the
-confluence of the streams, no stranger, walking thitherward, could
-imagine the singular and grand contest that is eternally waging in
-that wonderful pass; and when he comes upon it suddenly, admiration
-impels him to stand in silent worship.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">One of the commonest of common similes is the simile of life and a
-river. But as it is not because a thing is rare that it must needs be
-sweet, so it is not because a thing is common that it must needs be
-true. Every river fulfils its mission: does every life? More like a
-stream than a river is life. Trace the stream, from the inconsiderable
-bubbling of a mountain spring, down the hillsides, over rocks, through
-glades lighted by sunlight and moonlight, through tortuous defiles and
-rocky chasms, into a sparkling current, which swells and swells and
-grows into a lovely channel, or into a sullen rill, which drips and
-drips and loses itself in a puddle.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When Joshua's ship had sailed, gloom fell upon the house of the
-Marvels: the sunshine that used to warm it no longer shone on it.
-George Marvel showed his grief more plainly than did his good woman.
-He was more gentle towards her, and sometimes his gentleness of manner
-took the form of submission. Singularly enough she was seriously
-distressed at the change. She wished him to be positive and
-contradictory, as he used to be; to scold her and put her down, as he
-used to do; to be more masterful and less gentle. She strove in all
-sorts of ways to bring back his old humor; she tried his temper by
-opposing him in trivial matters; she contradicted him when he spoke;
-and she even ventured, on two or three occasions, to tell him that he
-would have to wait for his meals--which waiting for one's meals, as is
-well known, is one of the leading causes of domestic differences. But
-all her well-meant efforts were thrown away; and when she saw him sit
-down patiently on being told, with assumed snappishness, that tea
-wouldn't be ready for half an hour, she gave it up as a bad job, and,
-acting wisely, left time to cure him. It <i>did</i> cure him, as it cures
-greater griefs; but in the mean time he suffered greatly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The fact of it was, George Marvel was troubled in his mind at the
-prominent part he had taken in influencing Joshua's choice of a
-profession. Having driven his son to sea, he felt as if he had a hand
-in every storm, and as if he were in some measure responsible for
-every gust of wind, inasmuch as it expressed danger to Joshua. Then
-the thought of Joshua's being shipwrecked haunted him. &quot;Suppose Josh
-is shipwrecked, father,&quot; his wife had said, &quot;what would you say then?
-You'd lie awake night after night, father--you know you would--and
-wish he had been a wood-turner.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Maggie was right,&quot; he admitted to himself; &quot;it would have been better
-for Josh, and happier for all us, if he had remained at home and been
-a wood-turner.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Being in pursuit of misery, he showed the doggedness of his nature by
-hunting for it assiduously. He read with remorseful eagerness every
-scrap of print relating to shipwreck that he could lay hands upon. He
-would go out of his way to borrow a paper which he had heard contained
-an account of disasters at sea, and when he obtained it, he would shut
-himself up, and read it and re-read it in secrecy, until he extracted
-as much misery from it as it could possibly yield him. The second
-Saturday night after Joshua's departure he saw a number of persons
-assembled round a sailor who was begging. The sailor had a patch over
-his eye and a wooden leg, and he was singing, in a voice of dismal
-enjoyment, a woful narration of his sufferings on a raft. George
-Marvel stopped until the song was finished, and then gave the man a
-penny. The following Saturday night he went in search of the sailor,
-and listened to his song, and gave him another penny. And so, for many
-successive Saturday nights, he went and enjoyed his penny-worth of
-misery, getting, it must be admitted, full value for his money.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">On other evenings he smoked his pipe in the kitchen as usual. If the
-weather was boisterous, he would go restlessly to the street-door, and
-come back more low-spirited than ever.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It's dreadfully windy to-night, Maggie,&quot; he would say.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think so, George?&quot; Mrs. Marvel would ask, making light of the
-wind for his sake, although she too was thinking of Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not a star to be seen,&quot; he would add despondently.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then would come a stronger gust, perhaps, and George Marvel would
-shiver and ask his wife if she thought it was stormy out at sea. She,
-becoming on the instant wonderfully weatherwise, would answer, No, she
-was sure it wasn't stormy at sea, for the sea was such a long way off,
-and it wasn't likely that a storm would be all over the world at once.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">One night when a great storm was raging through London, and when the
-thunder was breaking loudly over the chimney-tops in Stepney, Mrs.
-Marvel lay awake, with all a mother's fears tugging at her
-heart-strings, praying silently for Joshua's safety, and clasping her
-hands more tightly in agony of love at every lightning-flash that
-darted past the window. She hoped that her husband was asleep,
-oblivious of the storm; but he was as wide awake as she was,
-and was following Joshua's ship through the fearful storm. At one
-time, the house shook in the wild blustering of the wind, and they
-heard a crash as of the blowing down of some chimneys.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Maggie,&quot; whispered Mr. Marvel, wondering if his wife were awake.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, father,&quot; answered Mrs. Marvel, under her breath.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is an awful storm.&quot; Then, after a pause, &quot;Have you been awake
-long, mother?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have been listening to it for ever so long, dear,&quot; said Mrs.
-Marvel; adding, with a cunning attempt to comfort him, &quot;And praying
-that it might spend out all its force over our heads, and not travel
-away to Joshua's ship. We ought to be thankful that Joshua is on the
-open sea. Mr. Meddler says there's no danger for a ship in a storm
-when it isn't near land.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And he knows better than us, mother.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, dear. All we can do is to pray for Joshua. God will bring him
-back to us, father.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I hope so; I pray so. Goodnight, Maggie. Go to sleep.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, George. Goodnight.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But they lay awake for a long time after that, until the storm,
-sobbing like a child worn out with passion, sighed and moaned itself
-away.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As for Dan, for many days after Joshua was gone he felt as if a dear
-friend had died; not Joshua, but some unknown friend almost as dear.
-He had reason enough for feeling lonely and miserable. His dear
-friend's companionship had been inestimably precious to him; Joshua's
-very footfall had made his heart glad. The hours they had spent
-together were the summer of his life, and now that he and Joshua were
-parted he recognized that a great void had been made in his life, and
-that it behoved him to fill it up. That void was want of occupation.
-What was he to do now that Joshua was gone? When Joshua was at home,
-there had been every day something to do, something to talk about.
-something to argue upon. Then, time did not hang heavily upon his
-hands; now, when there was no Joshua to look forward to, he found
-himself falling into a state of listlessness which he knew was not
-good for him. He wanted something for his hands to do. What? He
-thought a great deal about it, and had not settled the difficulty when
-a domestic calamity occurred.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The drinking proclivities of Mr. Taylor have been incidentally
-referred to. These proclivities had unfortunately grown upon him to
-such an extent, that he was now an ardent and faithful slave of that
-demon to so many English homes among the poor--Gin. It has been spoken
-of often enough and truthfully enough, God knows! But it cannot, until
-it lie vanquished in the dust, be too often struck at. If there is a
-curse in this our mighty England which degrades it to a level so low
-that it is shame to think of, that curse is Gin! If vice, domestic
-misery, and prostitution have an English teacher, that teacher is Gin!
-And in this England, which we so glorify, so sing about and mouth
-about, no direct attempt has ever yet been made by statesmen who work
-as Jobbers to root this teacher out of our wretched courts and alleys,
-and replace it by something better. Perhaps one day, when a lull takes
-place in the jangle of Politics--amid the din of which so many strange
-sounds are heard; such as the wrangle of religious creeds, whose
-various exponents split worthless straws in Church-and-State bills for
-Heaven knows what purpose, unless it be for the triumph of their
-particular creeds; such as the wrangle of private members whose hearts
-and souls (literally) are wrapt up in private bills for the good of
-the people--perhaps one day amid the lull, a wise and beneficent
-statesman may turn his attention to the abominable curse, and earn for
-himself a statue, the design of which shall be--after the manner of
-St. George and the Dragon--Gin writhing on the ground in all its true
-deformity, pierced through by the spear of a wise legislation, which
-in this instance at least shall have legislated for the good of the
-many.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Taylor, one of the Gin Patriots, having enrolled himself as a
-soldier in the cause, was necessitated by the magnanimity of his
-nature to become a soldier leal and true. So he bowed himself down
-before Gin, and worshipped it morning, noon, and night. Even in his
-dreams he was faithful to the cause, mumbling out entreaties to his
-god. His devotion causing him to neglect all lesser worldly matters,
-he fell into a bad state of poverty, and his family fell with him. The
-worst form of Mr. Taylor's devotion did not appear until Joshua left
-home; hitherto he had been working up to his ambition's height. Having
-reached it, he rested on his oars, which, being composed of the
-frailest of timber, gave way and sent him rolling into the mud. As he
-declined to provide for his family, that duty devolved upon Mrs.
-Taylor, and she patiently and unmurmuringly performed her duty, and
-worked her fingers to the bone, until her strength gave way. She was
-one of those quiet souls who always do their best, and never complain;
-and having done her best, she closed her eyes upon the world, and
-passed without a murmur out of the hive of busy bees.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There was much sadness in the house when the event occurred, and
-there was much helpful sympathy among the neighbors. Not for Mr.
-Taylor--although they remembered the time when he was a respectable
-member of society, before he had fallen under the fatal influence of
-Gin--but for the children. During Mrs. Taylor's illness, which lasted
-but a very short time, Susan came to the house and helped Ellen in her
-household work and in nursing their mother. It was an anxious time for
-the poor little maid; but she did her work willingly, and with the
-patient spirit her mother had exhibited. Susan was a great help to
-her, and there was more sisterly love between them during that time
-than had ever before shown itself. At the funeral, Mr. Taylor
-presented himself in as decent a state of Gin as he could muster up
-for the occasion; drivelled a little, trembled a great deal, and
-proclaimed himself a most unfortunate man. Finding that he obtained no
-sympathy for his miserable position from his children or from the
-neighbors, he, when the funeral was over, pawned his waistcoat, and
-dissolving the proceeds wept tears of Gin over the death of his wife.
-While he was employed in that process of drowning his grief, the three
-children were sitting together in Dan's room talking in hushed tones
-over their loss and over their prospects. After the funeral, Mrs.
-Marvel--who had helped to nurse Mrs. Taylor--quietly prepared tea in
-Dan's room, and with her usual sympathetic instinct of what was best,
-kept herself out of sight as much as possible. But at the last moment,
-when tea was ready and she was about to leave the children
-undisturbed, she placed her arm round Dan's neck, and whispered that
-Joshua's home was Dan's and that he might come and occupy Joshua's
-room whenever he pleased. &quot;And be another son to us my dear,&quot; said
-good Mrs. Marvel; &quot;so that we shall have two.&quot; Dan thanked her, and
-looked at Ellen thoughtfully, and then Mrs. Marvel left the children
-to their meal.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Said Dan, &quot;Mrs. Marvel has asked me to live in her house, and sleep in
-Joshua's room.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It would be a good thing,&quot; observed Susan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan stole his hand into Ellen's, who had been looking down sadly; she
-felt the warm pressure, and her fingers tightened upon his. That
-little action was as good as words; they understood each other
-perfectly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; he said, &quot;it would not be a good thing. It was a good thing for
-Mrs. Marvel to offer, but then she is Jo's mother, and as kind and
-good as Jo is; but it would not be a good thing for me to accept. For
-there's Ellen here; she is half of me, Susey, and we mustn't be
-parted. But indeed there will be no reason for it. I have a wonderful
-scheme in my head, but it wants thinking over before I tell it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan spoke bravely, as if he were a strong man, with all the world to
-choose from.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O Dan!&quot; exclaimed Susan, tears coming to her eyes at his brave
-confident manner, &quot;if it hadn't been for me you wouldn't have been a
-cripple, and your poor legs might have been of some use to you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They will be of more use to me perhaps than if they were sound,
-Susey,&quot; said Dan cheerfully, &quot;if I can make something out of the
-scheme I have got in my head--and I think I can. Let us talk sensibly.
-Now that poor dear mother's gone, we must all do something. I intend
-to commence doing something to-morrow.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What, dear Dan?&quot; asked Susan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You will see. What I should like is that we should all live together.
-Perhaps not just now, Susey, but by and by. What do you say to that,
-Susey?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan thought of Basil and Minnie Kindred, and felt that it would be
-impossible for her to leave them. &quot;It would be very good,&quot; she said,
-&quot;but we can talk of that by and by, as you say.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Very well. The first thing, then, we have to consider is
-bread-and-butter. Bread-and-butter,&quot; he repeated, in reply to their
-questioning looks. &quot;We must have it, and we must earn it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan nodded gravely, and said, &quot;Ellen had better learn to be a
-dressmaker.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen looked up with joyful gratitude.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, how good of you, Susey!&quot; she exclaimed. &quot;Then I could earn money.
-I wouldn't mind how hard I should have to work.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is a capital idea,&quot; said Dan, taking Susan's hand. &quot;The best thing
-you can do, Susey, is to bring some of your work here every day for a
-couple of hours, and let Ellen help you--she will soon learn.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That I will,&quot; said Ellen in a voice of quiet gladness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">These young people, you see, were not entirely unhappy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I wonder where Joshua is,&quot; remarked Ellen during the evening.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, where?&quot; sighed Dan. &quot;But wherever he is, he is doing his duty,
-and we will do ours. How happy we all were that night at Mr. Meddler's
-What a beautiful day that was! Like a dream! Hark! There is the
-church-bell striking nine o'clock.&quot; They listened in silence. &quot;That is
-like a wedding-bell. Now the other church is striking--how solemn it
-sounds--like a funeral-bell.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The tears came to their eyes when Dan inadvertently made the last
-remark.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They did not speak for a long time after that, and then Dan said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I feel now just as I felt the day after Jo went away.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They sat up talking until eleven o'clock. They spoke in low tones, and
-they sat in the dark.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you miss mother's step, Dan?&quot; asked Susan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How strange it is to know that she is not in the house!&quot; said Dan.
-&quot;Hush!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There was a step outside the door; it was the drunken step of their
-father, who stumbled through the passage and up the stairs, shedding
-tears of Gin as he staggered to bed, bemoaning the death of his wife.
-They listened with feelings of grief and fear until they heard his
-bedroom-door shut, and then turned to each other with deeper sighs.
-Shame for the living was more grievous to bear than sorrow for the
-dead.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XII.</h4>
-
-<h5>DAN ENTERS INTO BUSINESS.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Their plans were commenced the very next day. Susan came round
-with
-her work, and gave Ellen her first lesson in dressmaking. Ellen was as
-skilful with the needle as Susan was, and made famous progress. A
-cheerful worker is sure to turn out a skilful one.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have been thinking in the night, Ellen,&quot; said Susan, &quot;that we might
-go into partnership.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Wait,&quot; said Dan the Just, looking up from the table, on which the
-birds were going through their performances; &quot;there is time enough to
-talk of that. I don't intend that you shall sacrifice every thing for
-us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No sacrifice could be too great for me to make for you, Dan,&quot; replied
-Susan. &quot;But I think that I should have all the advantage, if we were
-partners. Ellen has such a beautiful figure, that she would be sure to
-get customers. Stand up, dear--look at her, Dan!&quot; And Susan turned
-Ellen about, and looked at her pretty sister's pretty figure without a
-tittle of envy. &quot;If you are a judge of any thing but birds, Dan, you
-must confess that but is a model.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan smiled and said, &quot;If Ellen wasn't good, you would make her vain.
-Let the partnership question rest for a little while. Go on with your
-work, and don't talk. I've got something very particular to do.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan, with his birds before him, appeared to be perplexed with some
-more than usually difficult problem concerning them. There was a
-curious indecision also in his treatment of them. Now he issued a
-command, now he countermanded it; now he ordered a movement, and
-before it was executed threw the birds into confusion by giving the
-signal for something entirely different. Until at length the birds,
-especially the old stagers, stood looking irresolutely at each other,
-with the possible thought in their minds (if they have any) that their
-master had taken a drop too much to drink; and one young recruit--none
-but a young one and a tomtit, who is notoriously the sauciest of
-birds, would have dared to do it--advanced, alone and unsupported, to
-the edge of the table, and looking up in Dan's face, asked what he
-meant by it. Recalled to himself by this act of insubordination, Dan
-recovered his usual self-possession, and selected two bullfinches,
-somewhat similar to those which he had given to the Old Sailor. They
-were young untrained birds, and Dan at once commenced their education.
-But Ellen remarked with surprise that he was less tender in his manner
-towards them than towards the other birds. He spoke to them more
-sternly, and as if the business in which they were engaged was a
-serious business, with not a particle of nonsense in it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;See, Ellen,&quot; he said after some days had passed--&quot;see how clever they
-are They draw up their own food and their own water; and directly I
-sound this whistle, they sing 'God save the King.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He blew through the tin whistle, and the birds sang the air through.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now you sound the whistle, Ellen.&quot; Ellen blew through the whistle,
-and the birds repeated the air.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So you see, Ellen it doesn't matter who blows the whistle; the birds
-begin to sing directly they hear it. Here is another whistle--a wooden
-one, with a different note. Blow that softly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen blew, and the bullfinches immediately set to work hauling up
-water from the well.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is good, isn't it?&quot; said Dan. &quot;They will obey anybody.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But tell me, Dan, why you don't speak to them as kindly as you do to
-the others?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, you have noticed it, miss, have you? I thought you did. Well,
-then in the first place, I wanted to teach them by a new system. I
-wanted to teach them so that anybody can make them do what I do, if he
-gives the proper signal; and I have succeeded, as you see. If I had
-taught them by my voice as I have taught the others, they wouldn't
-have been of use to any one but me. They are such cunning little
-thing's, and they have such delicate little ears! In the second place,
-Ellen, I did not want to grow fond of them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why, Dan dear?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because, if I had grown fond of them, it would almost break my heart
-to part with them. Who could help loving them, I wonder? They have
-been my world, you see, and they are such innocent little pets. I have
-grown to love them so, you can't tell. And we know each other's
-voices, and have made a language of our own, which no one else can
-understand.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He chirruped to them, and called to them in endearing tones; and all
-the birds, with the exception of the pair of bullfinches, fluttered to
-him, and perched about his shoulders and nestled in his breast. The
-two little bullfinches, standing alone in the centre of the table,
-looked more surprised than forlorn at the desertion.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then Dan said: &quot;This is part of my scheme. I commence business to-day
-as a bird-merchant. I have trained these two bullfinches to sell. You
-are earning money already, Ellen dear, and you are a girl. I am not
-quite a man in years, although I think I am here&quot;--touching his
-forehead--&quot;and I am not going to let you beat me at moneymaking.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He pulled out a paper, on which was written, in Roman letters, and
-neat round hand,</p>
-<br>
-
-<h3>THIS PAIR OF BULLFINCHES</h3>
-<h4>FOR SALE.</h4>
-<p class="center"><i>They draw up their own food and water; and they sing</i></p>
-<h4>&quot;GOD SAVE THE KING,&quot;</h4>
-<p class="center"><i>And other Tunes, to the Sound of a Whistle</i>.</p>
-<p class="center">* * *</p>
-<p class="center"><i>Inquire within of </i><span class="sc">Dan Taylor</span>.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What I propose to do, Ellen, is to put the cage with the bullfinches
-in the parlor-window, with this announcement over the cage. Perhaps it
-will attract the attention of some one or other, and he will be
-curious about it, and will come in and make inquiries.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So the birds were exhibited in the parlor-window, and above their cage
-was hung the announcement that they were for sale. The neighbors saw
-the birds, and there was not a woman for a quarter of a mile around
-who did not make a pilgrimage to the parlor-window of the Taylors.
-&quot;Dan is selling his birds,&quot; they said, &quot;because of his brute of a
-father;&quot; and they shook their heads sorrowfully, and admired Dan's
-writing, and said he was quite a scholar. Ellen, working in the
-parlor, would pause in the midst of her hemming, or stitching, or
-basting, as the shadow of a passer-by darkened the window, and pray
-that he would come in and buy the birds.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The exhibition was a great boon to the dirty little boys and girls in
-the neighborhood, who at first stood in open-mouthed admiration, and
-would have stood so for hours, neglectful of the gutters, if an
-occasional raid against their forces by anxious mothers had not
-scattered them now and then. Those of the children who could get near
-enough, would flatten their noses and mouths against the window-panes
-in the fervor of their enthusiasm. The bullfinches, looking down from
-their perch upon the queerly-distorted features, had the advantage of
-studying human nature from an entirely novel point of view, and were
-doubtless interested in the study. For the purpose of attracting the
-passers-by, Dan, at certain intervals during the day, caused the birds
-to draw up their water and food; and those exhibitions were the
-admiration of the entire neighborhood.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I wish some one would come in and ask the price of them,&quot; sighed
-Ellen, wishing that she had a fairy-wand to turn the sight-gazers into
-customers.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan only smiled, and bade Ellen have patience.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In the mean time Mr. Taylor, becoming every day more devoted in his
-worship to his god, fell every day into a worse and worse condition.
-One evening, Ellen, being tired, went to bed soon after tea, and on
-that evening Mr. Taylor happened to come home earlier than usual.
-There was a reason for it: he had spent all his money, had quite
-exhausted his credit, and had been turned out of the public-houses.
-Being less drunk than usual, he was more ill-tempered than usual, and
-he stumbled into the parlor with the intention of venting his
-ill-humor upon Ellen. But Ellen was not there. Dan was the only
-occupant of the room, and he was reading. He raised his eyes, and
-seeing his father half-drunk, he lowered them to his book again. He
-was ashamed and grieved.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where is Ellen?&quot; demanded Mr. Taylor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Gone to bed,&quot; replied Dan shortly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why isn't she here to get my supper?&quot; asked the gin-worshipper
-irritably. Dan made no reply; but, although he appeared to be
-continuing his reading, a quivering of his lips denoted that his
-attention was not wholly given to his book. &quot;Do you hear me?&quot;
-continued Mr. Taylor after a pause, thumping his fist upon the table.
-&quot;Why isn't she here to get my supper? What business has she to go to
-bed without getting my supper?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She was up at five this morning to do the washing, and has been
-working all day.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan spoke very quietly, and did not look at his father.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Her mother wouldn't have done it,&quot; whimpered Mr. Taylor. &quot;Here am I
-without two pence in my pocket, and my very children rebel against me.
-Is there any thing in the house for supper?--tell me that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know. I don't think there is.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You don't know! You don't think there is!&quot; sneered Mr. Taylor.
-&quot;You've had yours, I suppose?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir, I have not had any.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What do you mean by 'sir'?&quot; cried Mr. Taylor furiously. &quot;How dare you
-call your father 'sir'? Is that what you learned from your friend
-Joshua?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan clasped his hands nervously together; he was agitated and
-indignant, and he did not dare to give expression to his thoughts.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why don't you speak?&quot; demanded Mr. Taylor with unreasoning anger.
-&quot;What do you mean by sitting there mocking your father?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am not mocking you,&quot; said Dan. &quot;And as for speaking, I am too much
-ashamed to say what I think; so I had better remain silent.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How dare you speak to me in that way? Haven't I kept you for years in
-idleness and luxury? Haven't I provided for you? And now when I am in
-bad luck, and haven't sixpence to get a quartern loaf&quot;--he meant a
-quatern of gin, but the loaf was the more dignified way of putting
-it--&quot;my children turn against me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It isn't my fault that you have had to keep me,&quot; Dan said quietly.
-&quot;If I had been like other boys, I should have been glad to work and
-earn money; but I am crippled, and never felt that I was unfortunate
-until now. I don't think mother would have thrown my misfortune in my
-teeth as you have done.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Taylor was too much steeped in gin to feel the reproachful words.
-He continued to bemoan his hard fate and the ingratitude of his
-children. In the midst of his bemoaning he caught sight of an empty
-cage. An inspiration fell upon him. That bird-cage could probably be
-exchanged for a pint of gin. Present bliss was before him, and the
-prospect of it made him cunning.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He ordered Dan to bed, and Dan, who could crawl with the aid of his
-crutches, went, thankful to escape from so painful an interview. When
-Dan came down the next morning he discovered his loss. He was much
-grieved; not so much at the loss of the bird-cage, but at the thought
-that his other cages and the birds might be appropriated in like
-manner. He said nothing of what had occurred, but that night when he
-went to bed he had all his birds and cages removed to his bedroom, and
-he locked his door.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was midnight when Mr. Taylor came home. Although he was drunk, he
-crept like a thief into the house. The proceeds of the cage had
-supplied him with drink for the day; and having conscientiously spent
-every penny, he was in the same impoverished condition as he had been
-the previous night. As he could not live without gin, he determined to
-appropriate another bird cage. What right had Dan to them? They were
-his, the father's, who had kept his son in idleness, and who had
-clothed and sheltered him. Yet in the midst of his drunken muttering
-he was oppressed with a shamefaced consciousness of the villainy of
-his logic, and it was with difficulty he obtained a light from the
-tinder-box. The poor little rush-light flickered when it was lighted,
-as if it also were oppressed with shame.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Unsteadily, and with much stumbling, Mr. Taylor groped his way to
-Dan's room. Looking around on the walls he discovered, to his dismay
-and astonishment, that the birds and the cages were gone. His first
-surprise over, he gave way to passion. The boy had no doubt taken the
-cages to his bedroom for fear his father should steal them. How dared
-Dan suspect him? He would teach Dan a lesson--a lesson that he would
-not forget. Working himself into a state of maudlin indignation he
-stumbled up the stairs to Dan's bedroom, and tried the door. It was
-locked. Here was another proof of his son's ingratitude and want of
-confidence. What was he to do for gin the next day? He must have gin;
-he could not live without it. Ellen's bedroom was next to Dan's. The
-drunken father turned the handle of the door, and looked in. On the
-floor were Ellen's boots. He saw gin marked on them, and catching them
-up, he clutched them to his breast, and slunk guiltily to bed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen, rising the next morning, looked about in vain for her boots.
-She searched for them up stairs and down stairs, wondering what had
-become of them. The door of her father's room was open, and she
-entered it; but Mr. Taylor, knowing that Ellen was an early riser, had
-taken care to get out of the house before she was about. When Ellen
-saw the empty bed, some glimmering of the truth flashed upon her. At
-first the poor girl sat down upon the bed and began to cry; the loss
-of her boots was a grievous loss indeed to her. She had no money to
-buy another pair with; they were such beautiful boots, too, and fitted
-her so nicely! What was she to do? How it would grieve Dan to know?
-That thought calmed her. Dan must not know--it would hurt him too
-much. She might be able to get an old pair from somebody during the
-day; perhaps Susan had an old pair to lend her. She dried her eyes and
-washed them well with cold water, and altogether managed so
-successfully, that breakfast was over, and she and Dan and the birds
-were all together in the parlor, without Dan ever suspecting what had
-occurred.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Those two children sitting there were fully aware that a grave crisis
-was approaching. Young as they were to bear the weight of serious
-trouble, they bore it cheerfully, and strove in their humble way to
-fight with the world and with the hard circumstances of their lives.
-Dan cripple as he was had much hope; and often when he was thinking
-over certain schemes which had been suggested by the stern necessity
-of his condition, a quaint smile would play upon his lips, and a
-humorous light would shine in his eyes. Ellen, looking up from her
-work, would sometimes see that smile, which, for all its quaintness,
-had a shade of thoughtfulness in it; and on her lips, too, a pleasant
-smile would wreathe in sympathy. They were very tender towards each
-other; and their love made them strong.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen busy with her needle, sat close to the table, so that Dan should
-not catch a glimpse of her shoeless feet. Dan was industriously at
-work training two birds, which were to replace those in the window
-when they were sold.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The education of this second pair of birds was almost completed, and
-Dan said as much to Ellen. He had taught them different tricks, and
-had fitted two ladders in the cage, up and down which they hopped,
-keeping time, step for step.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But will they ever be sold?&quot; exclaimed Ellen almost despairingly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It <i>is</i> a long time before we make a commencement,&quot; said Dan.
-&quot;There's Susan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When Susan entered, she examined the dress which Ellen was making, and
-suddenly exclaimed,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why, Ellen, where are your boots?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan looked up quickly, and then directed his eyes to Ellen's feet.
-Poor Ellen stammered a good deal, and striving to hide the truth from
-Dan, got into a sad bewilderment of words.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay, but, Ellen,&quot; interposed Dan in a grave voice, &quot;you don't mean to
-say that you have been sitting all the morning without your boots?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I have,&quot; said Ellen, compelled to confess.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But why, my dear?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;When I got up this morning, I looked for them, and could not find
-them. Perhaps I can find them now.&quot; And Ellen ran out of the room; but
-she soon returned, shaking her head, and saying, &quot;No, they're gone.
-Never mind; it can't be helped.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You really don't know what has become of them?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Did you see father last night?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen shook her head.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nor this morning?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen shook her head again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can't quite see what is to be the end of all this,&quot; said Dan sadly.
-&quot;It is almost too dreadful to think of. Father must have taken your
-boots, Ellen dear. The night before last he took a bird-cage; that was
-the reason I had all my birds in my bedroom last night. It is very,
-very dreadful. Poor dear mother! Poor dear Joshua! I <i>do</i> wish you
-were here now to advise us what to do!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And the three children then drew closer together, and strove to
-comfort each other.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dry your eyes, Ellen,&quot; said Dan stoutly; &quot;brighter days will come.
-Susan, have you a pair of old boots that you can lend to Ellen?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan ran out of the house and returned with a pair of boots which she
-had bought at a second-hand clothes-shop, and which Ellen was very
-thankful for, although they were much too large for her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Taylor came home at midnight in a state of drunken delirium. He
-had drunk deeply--so deeply, that when he slammed the street-door
-behind him, he found himself in the midst of a thousand mocking eyes,
-growing upon him and blasting him with hideous looks; and as he groped
-his way in terror up the dark stairs, a thousand misshapen hands
-strove to bar his progress. They fastened on him and clung to him; and
-the faster his trembling hands beat them down and tore them away, the
-more thickly they multiplied. So, fighting and suffering and groaning
-in his agony, the drunkard staggered to his room, and Dan and Ellen
-shuddered as they lay and listened. Well for them that they could not
-see as well as hear; well for them that they could not see him pick
-the crawling things (existing only in his imagination) off his
-bed-clothes and throw them off with loathing; that they could not see
-him, bathed in perspiration, writhing in his bed and fighting with his
-punishment. He could not endure it. It was too horrible to bear.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The room was full of creeping shapes, visible in the midst of the
-darkness. He would go out into the streets, into the light, where they
-could not follow him. Where was the door? He felt about the walls for
-it. It was gone; he was closed in, imprisoned with his terrors. He
-beat about with his hands deliriously. The window! ah, they had not
-closed that! He dashed at the panes, and tearing open the casement
-with his bleeding fingers, fell from a height of twenty feet, and met
-a drunkard's death.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XIII.</h4>
-
-<h5>DAN DECLARES THAT IT IS LIKE A ROMANCE.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The old gentleman with the hour-glass who never sleeps does
-not look a
-day older, and yet four seasons have played their parts and have
-passed away. The white hairs in George Marvel's head are multiplying
-fast, and he grumbles at them as usual, but has given up the task of
-pulling them out. Great changes have taken place among Joshua's
-friends; and Dan, looking up from his work, remarks sometimes that it
-is almost like a romance. Judge if it is.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When Mr. Taylor was buried--when the shame of his death was forgotten
-and only sorrow for it remained--the children found themselves in one
-of those social difficulties from which many wiser persons than they
-are unable to extricate themselves. For the first three or four weeks
-after their father's death, Mrs. Marvel and Susan had between them
-managed to defray the small expenses of the house; but the tax was
-heavy--too heavy for them to continue to bear. One day, however,
-unexpected help came. George Marvel, in his quiet way, had conceived a
-great idea, and in his quiet way had carried it out. Here were these
-two children thrown upon the world. Not children exactly perhaps, for
-they were nearly seventeen years of age; but one was a cripple, and
-the other was a girl. They had been good children, and their character
-stood high in the neighborhood. Who ought to assist them? The
-neighbors. Some one must take it in hand, and why not he as well as
-any other person? No sooner had he made up his mind than he set to
-work. He went round to the neighbors personally, and told them what
-his errand was. Poor as they were, they gave their mites cheerfully,
-with scarcely an exception. When he had made the round of the
-neighbors, he went to the workshops, and the men there gave their
-penny each, and the boys their halfpence; and so swelled the total.
-His own employers and fellow-workmen were more liberal than any. He
-did not forget his tradesmen, his butcher and baker and grocer. They
-all gave; and the result was that, at the end of the three weeks
-during which he had been employed in his self-imposed task, he had a
-sum of not less than twelve pounds four shillings in his possession,
-to hand over to Dan and Ellen to assist them through their trouble.
-The night he made up his accounts, he told his wife what he had done,
-and she blessed him for it, and was silently and devoutly grateful
-that Providence had given her a husband with such a heart.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The following evening George Marvel visited the children, with his bag
-of money in his coat-tail pocket. Ellen was at work, and although she
-looked pale in her black dress, she looked very pretty. The goodness
-of the heart always shows itself in the face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now Dan had been thinking all day, and indeed for many previous days,
-that he ought to consult some mature person as to what he was to do.
-You must understand that Dan, notwithstanding that he was so much
-younger than Susan, considered himself the head of the family. He had
-his plans, but he wanted advice concerning them. Up to the present
-time, his business in trained birds had not flourished. It could not
-be said to have commenced, for he had not sold a bird. He had decided
-Mr. Marvel would be a proper person to ask advice of, and by good luck
-here Mr. Marvel was.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Have you a few minutes to spare, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, surely, Dan,&quot; replied Mr. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I want to take your advice, sir,&quot; commenced Dan after a slight
-hesitation. &quot;You know how we are situated, and how suddenly our
-misfortunes have come upon us. Well, sir, we must live; we must have
-bread-and-butter. Now the only scapegrace out of the lot of us is
-me--don't interrupt me, Ellen, nor you, sir, please. Susan is earning
-her bread-and-butter and something more. Ellen is earning enough to
-keep her; and I am the only idle one of all of us, and I am the only
-one who is eating bread-and-butter and is not earning it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But, Dan,&quot; interposed George Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir, please; let me go on. I have been eating the bread of
-idleness all my life, and I am eating it now. It isn't right that I
-should do so. I ought to earn my own living. But how? I am not like
-other boys, and cannot do what other boys can do. One thing is
-certain: I can't let Ellen work for me, and it would break my heart to
-part from her; and she would feel it quite as much as I should.--Yes,
-Ellen, keep your arm round my neck, but don't speak.--I tried to earn
-money, you know that. I trained some birds, and put them in the
-window, thinking that some one would buy them. But no one has. I
-haven't earned a penny-piece, and every bit of bread I put into my
-mouth has been paid for by Susan and Ellen.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Notwithstanding his eagerness, his tears choked him here, and he was
-compelled to pause before he resumed. In the mean time, obedient to
-his wish, neither Ellen nor Mr. Marvel spoke.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, sir, this is my idea. I have got now twenty-two birds; they can
-do all sorts of tricks: they can whistle tunes; they can climb up
-ladders; some of them can march like soldiers and can let off guns;
-some of them can draw carts. Would it be considered begging, if I, a
-lame boy, who have no other way of getting bread-and-butter, made an
-exhibition of these birds, and got some one to wheel me about the
-streets, and stop now and then so that I might put the birds through
-their tricks? I shouldn't be ashamed to accept what kind persons might
-give me, or might drop into a little box which I would take care to
-have handy. I wouldn't do it in this neighborhood. I would go a long
-way off--three or four miles perhaps--into the rich parts of London,
-where people could better afford to give. But would it be considered
-begging? That is what I want to ask your advice upon, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">George Marvel's breath was completely taken away. The enthusiastic
-manner in which Dan had spoken, no less than his admiration of the
-proposed scheme, had caused him to forget his errand for the time.
-&quot;Wait a minute,&quot; he said somewhat excitedly, &quot;I must think; I must
-walk about a bit.&quot; But no sooner had he risen than the weight of the
-money in his coat-tail pocket brought him to his sober senses, and he
-sat down again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dan,&quot; he said, taking the lad's hand affectionately in his, &quot;you are
-a good boy, and I am glad that you are Joshua's friend. I will answer
-your question and give you my advice, as you ask it. In any other case
-than yours I think it would be begging; but I don't think it <i>would</i>
-be in yours.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, sir,&quot; said Dan gratefully.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mind, I think even in your case it would not be exactly what I should
-approve of, if you had any other way of getting a living.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You think as I do, sir; but I have tried, as you see, and I have not
-succeeded.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Try a little longer, Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How about next week's rent, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You can pay it,&quot; replied George Marvel, &quot;and many more weeks'
-besides. I have a present for you in my pocket;&quot; and he pulled out the
-bag of money and put it on the table. &quot;In this bag is twelve pounds
-four shillings, which your friends--yours and your sisters'--have
-clubbed together for you, and that is what brought me here to-night.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O sir!&quot; cried Dan, covering his face with his hands.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;This money has been got together because all of us round about here
-love you. I sha'n't give it to you all at once. You shall have it so
-much every week; and I should advise you--as you ask for my advice--to
-continue training birds for sale and putting them in your window. Try
-a little while longer. A customer may come at any minute. And one
-customer is sure to bring another.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How can I thank you and all the good people, sir?&quot; said Dan, with a
-full heart.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind that now,&quot; said George Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">If he had known that it would have been so difficult and painful a
-task, it is not unlikely he would have remitted it to his wife to
-accomplish. Pretending to be in a great hurry, he rose to go, and,
-pressing Dan's hand and kissing Ellen, went home to his wife and told
-her of Dan's wonderful idea.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen and Dan were very happy the next morning, and set about their
-work cheerfully and hopefully. Dan wrote a new announcement concerning
-the birds, and the windows were cleaned, and presented a regular
-holiday appearance. In the midst of his work, Dan, looking up, saw a
-face at the window that he recognized. It was that of a young man who
-had been in the habit of looking in at the window nearly every day for
-the last week, and of whom Dan had observed more than once, that he
-looked like a customer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There he is again, Ellen,&quot; said Dan; &quot;the same man. Why doesn't he
-come in and ask the price of them?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He had no sooner spoken the words than the man's face disappeared from
-the window, and a knock came at the street-door.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Run and open the door, Ellen. I shouldn't wonder if he has made up
-his mind at last.&quot; Dan's heart beat loud with excitement. &quot;How much
-shall I ask for them?&quot; he thought. &quot;Oh, if he buys a couple of them,
-how happy I shall be!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The parlor-door opened, and the man entered; decidedly good-looking,
-dark, with a fresh color in his face, and with black hair curling
-naturally. The first impression was favorable, and Dan nodded
-approvingly to himself. The man had curiously flat feet, which, when
-he walked, seemed to do all the work without any assistance from
-his legs; and although his eyes were keen and bright, they did not
-look long at one object, but shifted restlessly, as if seeking a
-hiding-place where they could retire from public gaze.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have been attracted by the birds in the window,&quot; he said, coming at
-once to to the point, much to Dan's satisfaction. &quot;Can they really
-perform what the paper says? Can they really sing 'God save the King,'
-and draw up their own food and water?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They can do all that sir; but you shall see for yourself.--Ellen!
-Where is Ellen?&quot; Dan called; for he wanted her to assist him, and she
-had not followed the stranger into the room.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, Ellen,&quot; said the stranger, dwelling on the name. &quot;Is that the
-young lady who opened the door for me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, sir.--Ellen!&quot; Dan called again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Allow me,&quot; said the stranger; and he went to the door, and called in
-tones which slipped from his throat as if it was oiled, &quot;Ellen!
-Ellen!&quot; Then he turned to Dan, and questioned: &quot;Your sister?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah,&quot; said the man greasily, &quot;she is extremely like you. Allow me. I
-will bring the cage to the table.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He brought the cage from the window, and placed it before Dan. At that
-moment Ellen entered the room. The man's eyes wandered all over her as
-she took her seat at the table. She did not return his gaze, but bent
-her head modestly to her work.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your sister's name is Ellen,&quot; he said, &quot;and yours?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Daniel,&quot; said Dan; &quot;Daniel Taylor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Daniel; a scriptural name. Mine is also a Scriptural name: Solomon,
-Solomon Fewster. Solomon was a wise man; I hope I take after him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I hope so, I am sure, sir,&quot; said Dan somewhat impatiently; for he was
-anxious to get to business. &quot;Now, sir, if you will please to look and
-listen.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He blew through the tin whistle; and the bullfinches piped &quot;God save
-the King.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Very pretty, very pretty,&quot; said Solomon Fewster, nodding his head to
-the music. &quot;And you taught them yourself?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, sir. But it isn't as if they will only sing for me; they will
-sing for you, or for Ellen, or for any one who blows the whistle.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And they will sing for Ellen if she breathes into the whistle?&quot; said
-Solomon Fewster. &quot;Will Ellen breathe into the whistle with her pretty
-red lips? Allow me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He took the whistle from Dan and handed it to Ellen; and she
-reluctantly gave the signal to the birds, who willingly obeyed it.
-Fewster took the whistle from her and blew; and the birds for the
-third time piped the air. Then Dan directed his attention to the
-wooden whistle, and to the wonders performed by the birds at its
-dictation. Nothing would please Mr. Fewster but that Ellen should
-place the wooden whistle between her &quot;pretty red lips,&quot; as he called
-them again, and &quot;breathe into it.&quot; He said that &quot;breathe&quot; was more
-appropriate to Ellen's pretty lips than &quot;blow.&quot; He, using the whistle
-after her, cast upon her such admiring looks, that he really made her
-uncomfortable. The performance being over, Dan gazed at Mr. Fewster
-with undisguised anxiety. He had intended to be very cunning, and to
-appear as if he did not care whether he sold the birds or not; but the
-effort was unsuccessful.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, well,&quot; said Mr. Fewster; &quot;and they are really for sale? Poor
-little things! I asked the price of bullfinches yesterday at a
-bird-fancier's, and the man offered to sell them for four pence each.
-Not that these are not worth a little more. There is the trouble of
-training them; of course that is worth a trifle. Still bullfinches are
-bullfinches all the world over; and bullfinches, I believe, are very
-plentiful just now--quite a glut of them in the market.&quot; He paused, to
-allow this information to settle in Dan's mind, before he asked, &quot;Now
-what do you want a pair for these?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What do you think they are worth, sir?&quot; asked Dan, much depressed by
-Mr. Fewster's mode of bargaining.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, no, Daniel Taylor,&quot; said Mr. Fewster, in a bantering tone, &quot;I am
-too old a bird for that; not to be caught. Remember my namesake. You
-couldn't have caught him, you know; even the Queen of Sheba couldn't
-catch <i>him</i>. I can't be buyer and seller too. Put your price upon the
-birds; and I will tell you if they suit me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You see, sir,&quot; said Dan frankly, &quot;you puzzle me. The training of
-these birds has taken me a long time. You would be surprised if you
-knew how patient I have to be with them. And you puzzle me when you
-make so light a thing of my teaching, and when you tell me that
-bullfinches are a glut in the market. If the bullfinches you can get
-in the market will suit you, sir, why do you not buy them?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well put, Daniel, well put,&quot; said Mr. Fewster good-humoredly. &quot;Still,
-you <i>must</i> fix a price on them, you know. How much shall we say?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Fifteen shillings the pair,&quot; said Dan boldly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Fewster gave a long whistle, and threw himself into an attitude of
-surprise. Dan shifted in his seat uneasily.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A long price,&quot; said Mr. Fewster, when he had recovered himself; &quot;a
-very long price.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I couldn't take less, sir,&quot; said Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not ten shillings? Couldn't you take ten shillings?&quot; suggested Mr.
-Fewster, throwing his head on one side insinuatingly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There was something almost imploring in the expression on Dan's face
-as he said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir, I don't think I could. You haven't any idea what a time they
-have taken me to train. I hoped to get more for them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I tell you what,&quot; said Mr. Fewster, with sudden animation. &quot;Ellen
-shall decide with her pretty red lips. What do you say, Ellen? Shall I
-give fifteen shillings for them?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They are worth it, I am sure, sir,&quot; said Ellen timidly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That settles it,&quot; said Mr. Fewster gallantly. &quot;Here is the money.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And laying the money on the table, Mr. Fewster took the cage, and
-shaking hands with Dan, and pressing Ellen's fingers tenderly, bade
-them good-morning.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan's delight may be imagined. It was intensified a few day's
-afterwards, when Mr. Fewster called again, and bought another pair of
-birds; Mr. Fewster at the same time informed Dan that it was likely he
-might become a constant customer; and so he proved to be.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In the course of a short time, Dan found himself in receipt of a
-regular income. Other customers came, but Dan could not supply them
-all, as Mr. Fewster bought the birds almost as soon as they were
-trained. Very soon Dan thought himself justified in making a proposal
-to Susan. The proposal was that they should all live together in the
-house where Dan carried on his business. The only obstacle to the
-carrying out of the arrangement was Susan's determination not to leave
-Basil and Minnie Kindred. But why should not Basil Kindred and his
-daughter come as well? asked Dan; there was plenty of room for them,
-and it would be such company. And after the lapse of a little time,
-the result that Dan wished for was accomplished, and Basil and Minnie
-and Susan were living with them. They were a very happy family. The
-parlor-window had been altered to allow more space for the bird-cages;
-and Dan, looking around sometimes upon the group of happy faces, would
-remark that it was almost like a romance.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And so indeed it was, notwithstanding that the scene was laid in the
-humblest of humble localities.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XIV.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE STRANGE COURSES OF LOVE.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Perhaps one of the most absurd questions that could be put to
-a person
-would be to ask him how old he was when he was born. Yet the little
-old-men's faces possessed by some babies might furnish an excuse for
-such a question. The shrewd look, the cunning twinkle, the pinched
-nose, the peaked chin, the very wrinkles--you see them all, though the
-child be but a few weeks old. All the signs of worldly cunning and
-worldly wisdom are there, ready made, unbought by worldly experience;
-and as you look at them and wonder how old the little child-man really
-is, the object of your curiosity returns your look with scarcely less
-speculation in his eye than you have in yours. You are conscious that
-you are no match, except in physical strength, for the little fellow
-lying in his mother's lap or sprawling in his cradle; and a curious
-compound of pity and humiliation afflicts you in consequence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Some such a child as this was Solomon Fewster before he attained to
-the dignity of boyhood; his parents and their friends agreed in
-declaring that he was a cunning little fellow, a knowing little
-fellow; they would poke their fingers in the fat creases of his neck,
-and would sportively say, &quot;Oh, you cunning little rogue!&quot; &quot;You knowing
-little rogue!&quot; and he would crow and laugh, and endeavor to utter the
-words after them. He was so accustomed to the phrase, and grew to be
-so fond of it, that when he was old enough to understand its meaning,
-his chief desire seemed to be to prove himself worthy of it. It falls
-to the lot of but very few of us to compass our desires. Solomon
-Fewster was one of the fortunate exceptions. He was dubbed a cunning
-little rogue, before he knew what such praise meant; and (could it be
-that he was unwilling to trade under false pretences?) when he did
-know, he educated himself to deserve it, and succeeded. A small
-percentage of the old-men babies retain their old-men's looks as they
-grow to boyhood; specimens of these can be seen any day in our courts
-and alleys. This was not the case with Solomon Fewster; as he grew,
-the old-man's look faded from his face, and the spirit of &quot;a cunning
-little rogue&quot; took root in his heart, and flourished there. His
-parents dying when he was a child, he was left to the charge of a
-bachelor uncle, an undertaker by trade, who adopted and educated him.
-When he was taken from school--where he was the cunningest boy of them
-all--he was initiated into the mysteries of the undertaking business,
-and when he was of age he was intrusted with a responsible position,
-and his uncle made a will leaving every thing to him. He proved
-himself an invaluable ally; was grieved to the heart at the losses
-sustained by his uncle's customers; wept when he assisted at
-measurements; was broken-hearted when the clay was taken from the
-house; and sobbed with an almost utter prostration of spirit when he
-receipted the account, and signed Payment in Full. He entered heart
-and soul into the business, and thoroughly enjoyed it. Whether it was
-because he looked upon himself as the future master of the
-establishment, or because it was congenial to his nature, he strove by
-every means in his power to extend the connection; and being as acute
-and sensible as a man of double his age, his efforts were successful
-and the business flourished. Death was most obliging to him, and
-waited and fawned upon him at every step he took. If his spirits
-became depressed because trade was slack, a fortunate epidemic
-restored him to his usual cheerfulness, and orders poured in; and it
-is no disparagement of him, as an undertaker, to state that he buried
-his friends and acquaintances with melancholy satisfaction. When he
-was twenty-three years of age his uncle died. He paid the old
-gentleman every possible mark of respect: had the coffin lined with
-white satin; wept till his face was puffed; entered the expense of the
-funeral in the ledger to the debit of the deceased, and wiped off the
-amount at once as a bad debt. Then he set to work vigorously upon his
-own account. He had his name painted over the door, and issued
-circulars to every house for miles round. In those circulars he
-announced that he undertook and conducted funerals cheaper than any
-other undertaker in London; said that one trial would prove the fact;
-and respectfully solicited the patronage of his friends and the
-public. His appeal was successful; his trade increased; and Solomon
-Fewster was generally spoken of as a man on the high-road to
-prosperity.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When Solomon Fewster first saw Ellen, she was seventeen years of age,
-and he was seized with a sudden admiration for her pretty face and
-graceful figure. He had never seen a girl so winsome; and when they
-met again, he followed her admiringly to her home, and saw the
-exhibition of the bullfinches in Dan's window. Here was an opportunity
-to stare at her; and he enjoyed the cheap pleasure again and again
-until Dan noticed his face at the window. Then a happy thought entered
-Mr. Fewster's mind. The birds certainly were wonderfully intelligent,
-and their clever tricks would most likely render them easy of
-disposal. He entered into communication with a West-end fashionable
-bird-fancier--the farther away from Dan the better, he thought--and
-the bird-fancier (who had a connection among fine ladies) informed him
-that if the birds could really do all that he stated, a profitable
-trade might be established between them. &quot;What a fine opportunity,&quot;
-thought Solomon Fewster, &quot;of introducing myself to the pretty girl in
-the light of a benefactor!&quot; Then came the first interview and the
-first purchase. The pair of bullfinches he bought for fifteen
-shillings he sold for thirty; and the following week the fashionable
-bird-fancier asked for more. Thus it was that Solomon Fewster made his
-growing passion for Ellen a means of putting money in his purse; and
-thus it was that he came to be looked upon as a privileged visitor to
-the house.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor also found his way to the house. He was not as frequent
-a visitor as Mr. Fewster, but he was a more welcome one. The Old
-Sailor might have been a child, his heart was so green; and he had
-such a fund of stories to tell, and he told them with such simplicity
-and enthusiasm, believing in them thoroughly, however wild they were,
-that his hearers would hang upon his words, and laugh with him, and
-sorrow with him according to the nature of his narrative. They spent
-the pleasantest of pleasant evenings together, and when Praiseworthy
-Meddler told his sea-stories, Minnie would sit very quiet on the
-floor--a favorite fashion of hers--listening eagerly to every word
-that dropped from his lips. Then Basil Kindred would read Shakspeare
-when he could be coaxed into the humor, and would keep them
-spell-bound by his eloquence. He had ceased wandering in the streets
-and begging for his living. Necessity was his master there. He was
-stricken down with rheumatic fever, which so prostrated him that he
-was unable to pursue his vagrant career. They had a very hard task in
-inducing him to remain with them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Live upon you, my dear lad!&quot; he exclaimed loftily. &quot;No; I will perish
-first!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is enough for all, sir,&quot; replied Dan. &quot;Do not go. I would take
-from you--indeed, indeed I would!--could we change places. And there
-is Minnie, sir,&quot;--with such a wistful tender glance towards Minnie,
-who was growing very beautiful,--&quot;what would she do? But not for her
-nor for you do I ask this, sir. It is for me; for Ellen and Susan and
-Joshua. How happy he will be to find you here when he returns! You and
-Minnie, that he talked of so often, and with such affection! Then
-think, sir. You would not like to be the means of breaking up our
-little happy circle; and it is happy, isn't it, Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, yes, Dan!&quot; replied Minnie, with an anxious look at her father.
-&quot;Only one is wanting to make it perfect.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And that one is Joshua,&quot; said Dan, divining whom she meant, and
-grateful to her for the thought.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And that one is Joshua,&quot; she repeated softly, placing her shell to
-his ear. &quot;Do you hear it? Is it not sweet, the singing of the sea?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But all argument and entreaty would have been thrown away upon Basil
-if it had not been for Minnie. It was she who, when they were alone,
-prevailed upon him to stay.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your mother suffered for me and died for me,&quot; he said to her, as he
-lay upon his bed of pain. &quot;How like her you are growing, Minnie! Well,
-well, one is enough. I will stay, child, for your sake.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And she kissed him and thanked him, and whispered that he had made her
-happy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The next day she told Dan in a whisper that father was not going away;
-and Dan clapped his hands, and quietly said, &quot;Bravo!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And Joshua used to speak about us?&quot; she remarked, with assumed
-carelessness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Often and often, Minnie,&quot; answered Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And really speak of us affectionately?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah if you had only heard him! You know what a voice he has--like
-music.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A sudden flush in her face, a rapid beating at her heart, a rush of
-tears to her eyes. None of which did Dan notice, for her eyes were
-towards the ground. A little while afterwards she was singing about
-the house as blithe as a bird. Dan, stopping in the midst of his work,
-listened to the soft rustle of her dress in the passage, and to her
-soft singing as she went up the stairs; and a grateful look stole into
-his eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not to hear that!&quot; he said. &quot;Ah, it would be worse than death! But
-she is going to stay, birdie,&quot; nodding gayly to one of his pets; &quot;she
-is going to stay!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan told Minnie of the pretty fancies he had in connection with his
-friend; of the manner in which his love had grown, until it was welded
-in his heart for ever and ever; of Joshua's care and self-devotion
-towards him, the poor useless cripple. He told her of his fancy about
-the dream-theory, and how he had believed in it, and of the
-experiments he had made. And Minnie listened with delight, and
-sympathized with Dan--ay, and shed tears with him--and showed in every
-word she uttered how thoroughly she understood his feelings.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have dreamed of him over and over again,&quot; said Dan; &quot;but of course
-I don't know, and indeed I can't believe, that I have dreamed of him
-as he is. He is a man by this time, Minnie; and--let me see!--he is
-standing on his ship, with his bright eyes and handsome face&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes!&quot; interrupted Minnie eagerly. &quot;Made brighter and handsomer by
-living on the open sea and away from narrow streets. I can see the
-spray dashing up into his eyes, and he shaking it off laughing the
-while.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, yes!&quot; said Minnie enthusiastically. &quot;You can see him too,
-Minnie. I feel that you can. Is he not handsome and brave? I can hear
-him say, as he looks round upon the grand sea and up at the beautiful
-clouds,--I can hear him say, 'Dan is here with me, although I cannot
-see him.' He has me in his heart, as I have him. It was a compact. We
-were to be always together, and we are. Dear Jo!&quot; He paused a while,
-and Minnie, her hands clasped in her lap, gazed before her, and saw
-the picture painted by Dan's words. Many such conversations they had,
-and the theme was always the same.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Shortly after the death of Mr. Taylor the Old Sailor came to see the
-children. He did not know of the loss they had sustained; and when he
-heard that both father and mother were dead, he was much grieved. The
-news so disconcerted him that he rose to go three or four times, and
-each time sat down again, as if he had something on his mind he wished
-to get rid of first. As a proof that he was mentally disturbed, he
-dabbed his face more frequently than usual with his blue-cotton
-pocket-handkerchief, folding it up carefully before he put it in the
-breast of his shirt, as if he were folding up his secret in it, and
-afterwards taking it out and unfolding it, as if he had made up his
-mind at last to disclose what that secret was. When he found courage
-to speak, Dan learned that the bullfinches which Joshua and he had
-presented to the Old Sailor were dead.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Died yesterday morning, my lad,&quot; said the Old Sailor; &quot;died just as
-we were beginning to understand each other. Sailor birds they were,
-and they could climb ropes as well as any bird in the service.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am sorry they are dead, sir,&quot; said Dan; &quot;but I can give you another
-pair.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, Dan, no. I'll not have any more; they wouldn't be safe.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not safe?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There was a mutineer in the crew, my lad,&quot; said the Old Sailor,
-dropping his voice. &quot;It comes awkward for me to tell you; but you
-ought to know--and duty before every thing. The pretty birds were
-poisoned.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who could have been so cruel as to poison the innocent creatures?&quot;
-asked Dan sorrowfully.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That damned copper-colored eon of a thief who cooked for me!&quot; replied
-the Old Sailor excitedly. &quot;You saw him when you were on my ship. He
-had rings in his ears.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I remember. He was a Lascar, you told us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The treacherous dog!&quot; exclaimed the Old Sailor wrathfully, dabbing
-his face. &quot;But I did what was right to him. I flogged him with a
-rope's end till he couldn't stand.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He knew that Joshua gave you the birds, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, he knew it. To tell you the truth, my lad, I christened the birds
-Josh and Dan, and used to call them by their names. They were as
-sensible as human beings, and I gave them decent burial. I sewed them
-in canvas, and weighted it with shot, and slipped it off a plank. I'll
-not have any more of them, Dan. That lubberly thief would crawl on
-board one night and murder them too. No, no, my lad; no more birds for
-me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, then, I'll tell you what we'll do,&quot; said Dan. &quot;I will give you
-another pair of birds, and I will keep them for you, and you will come
-here sometimes and see how they are getting along. That's a good idea,
-isn't it, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor admitted that it was, and thus it fell out that he
-became a visitor to the house. Dan bought a toy ship, with sails and
-masts and slender ropes all complete, and taught the birds to climb
-the ropes and masts, which they did deftly, although not in sailor
-fashion, hand-over-hand; and his thoughtful conceit filled the Old
-Sailor with infinite delight.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was Susan's good fortune not to meet the Lascar for many months
-after the eventful occurrence in which Joshua had played so prominent
-a part. But one evening, when she and Ellen were returning home, she
-met him face to face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Stop!&quot; cried the Lascar, noticing Susan's agitation with secret
-pleasure. &quot;You don't forget me, do you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen, raising her eyes, saw and recognized the Lascar, and was
-recognized by him at the same moment.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah!&quot; he said, &quot;I remember you. You came one day with a lame boy and
-that young thief Joshua Marvel--curse him!--to see Mr. Meddler's
-boat.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen tried to hurry Susan along, but the Lascar stood directly in
-their path.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not yet, my beauty. You are about the prettiest girl I've ever seen.
-What's your name?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen was not so overcome with fear as to entirely lose her
-self-possession. Had she been alone, she would have run away. But
-Susan was clinging to her, almost fainting with terror. On the
-opposite side of the road she saw a man walking towards them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Help!&quot; she cried; but she could have bitten her lip with vexation
-when she found that it was Solomon Fewster who responded to her
-appeal. However, there Solomon Fewster was, ready to grapple with the
-enemy and to die in Ellen's defence. The occasion for a display of
-heroism was as good as he could have desired.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where is he?&quot; he cried valiantly; &quot;where's the villain who has dared
-to frighten my pretty Ellen?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He said this with such a presumptuous air of being her defender by
-natural right, that Ellen was annoyed and displeased. But she could
-not be uncivil to him. She thanked him for coming to their help, and
-he asked to be allowed to see them home. But Ellen refused, and
-although he pleaded hard, she was firm.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She was especially angry because of his calling her his pretty Ellen.
-Glad as she would have been of a protector, she rightly thought that
-it would be giving Mr. Fewster encouragement if she allowed him to
-assume that office. So, with many distressingly-tender protestations,
-he took his departure, congratulating himself upon the adventure, and
-Susan and Ellen walked homewards.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen was very anxious to know all about the Lascar, and why Susan was
-frightened at him. Susan told her all, and Ellen's face glowed with
-delight at Joshua's courage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Brave Joshua!&quot; she exclaimed. &quot;Isn't he a hero, Susan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Notwithstanding that she had not recovered from her fright at meeting
-the Lascar, Susan could not help smiling at Ellen's enthusiasm.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He was to be away a year,&quot; said Ellen, &quot;and it is now two years and
-four months.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And how many weeks, and how many days, and how many hours?&quot;
-interrupted Susan, half gayly. &quot;You could tell, I dare say. Ellen,
-couldn't you, if you were put to it?&quot; Ellen looked shyly at Susan.
-&quot;What a change he will find in you, my dear!&quot; Susan continued
-tenderly. &quot;In the place of a plain little girl he will find a very
-pretty woman.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O Susey! calling me a woman!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, you are, dear, or you will be when he comes back. I wonder&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Susan did not say what it was she wondered at, but stopped, most
-unaccountably, in the middle of the street and kissed Ellen in a
-motherly kind of way. The caress set Ellen a-blushing, and she fell
-into a state of happy musing. They were very near home when a voice at
-their side said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You thought you had escaped me, eh?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was the voice of the Lascar, who had dogged them until he found an
-opportunity of speaking to them without attracting attention. Their
-hearts beat fast, but they did not turn their heads.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't say a word,&quot; whispered Ellen, &quot;don't speak, don't stop, don't
-look! We shall be home directly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So Joshua Marvel hasn't come back yet,&quot; he said with bitter emphasis.
-&quot;He is a long time gone; but wait till he comes. I go every day to see
-the cross I put against him, and it grows brighter and brighter. I
-curse him every night. Perhaps he thinks that I forget. He shall see
-if I do.&quot; He gasped this at intervals, for the girls were now almost
-running in their terror. &quot;Tell him,&quot; hissed the Lascar, &quot;when he comes
-that that I poisoned at old thief's birds because Joshua gave them to
-him, and because the old thief used to call one of them by his name.
-Curse him! And you!&quot; he exclaimed savagely, touching Susan's arm. &quot;See
-you--remember! My shadow follows you from this day, you damned witch!
-for it was because of you that he came across me. Oh, you live there,
-do you? Dream of my shadow, you cat, to-night. It shall stand at your
-bedside. Blot it out if you can.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He had worked himself into a horrible rage; his passion made a madman
-of him; yet he did not attempt to stop them as they darted in at the
-door, but stood aside and looked at the house, and marked it and
-lingered about it for half an hour afterwards. In the mean time Ellen
-and Susan had run into their bedroom and locked the door. It was a
-long time before they recovered from their agitation. Susan was in an
-agony of terror; all her old fears came with stronger force upon her.
-She pressed her fingers upon her eyes and threw herself upon the
-ground, shuddering and moaning.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you see his shadow, Ellen?&quot; she moaned. &quot;Do you see it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is nothing in the room but you and me, dear Susey,&quot; said Ellen,
-smoothing Susan's hair, and striving by every means to soothe her.
-&quot;Why, I am braver than you, and I am ever so much younger. What have
-we to be afraid of? A drunken man! You stupid Susey! And as for
-shadows, who believes in them?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I do. I have seen them and felt them. I have heard them creeping
-after me in the dark, and I have been frightened to turn. I have felt
-their breath upon my face--and it is like death--like death!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">All Ellen's efforts to tranquillize her were unavailing. Susan did not
-leave her room again that evening, and during the night that followed
-she awoke a dozen times, and her fevered imagination conjured up the
-shadow of the Lascar standing at her bedside, pointing to a cross of
-blood which shone with cruel distinctness in the midst of the
-darkness.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XV.</h4>
-
-<h5>SOLOMON FEWSTER GIVES THE LASCAR A FLOWER.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Early in the new year letters from Joshua reached home. With
-what joy
-they were read! In one of them he wrote: &quot;I remember saying that I
-should be home in twelve months; but that time has passed, and another
-twelve months, and nearly another, and still there is no talk of
-returning. If I stay away much longer you won't know me when you see
-me. Upon my word, I think if I were to open the door now and walk in
-suddenly, you would be puzzled to know whether I was really myself or
-somebody else.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When they read this they all raised their heads and looked towards the
-door, wishing that Joshua would turn the handle and walk into the
-room.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The evening of the day on which the letters arrived was spent in grand
-state in Dan's house. Every member of the Marvel family was there, and
-the Old Sailor, and Solomon Fewster as well; so that the little parlor
-was quite full, and all the chairs had to be brought from the bedroom
-and the kitchen to provide seats for the company. The letters were
-read aloud, and commented upon and rejoiced over.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It isn't as good as Joshua's being here,&quot; said Dan, looking round
-with a happy face; &quot;but it is next door to it. I tell you what pleases
-me almost as much as any thing in the letters--it is that Jo's a
-favorite with the men. Hear what he says: 'I play to them on my
-accordion two or three times a week, and according to them I am a
-splendid musician--which I am not, you know, for I only play simple
-tunes. Last week the captain sent for me and told me that some
-passengers who were on board wanted to dance, and wished me to play
-for them. Of course I fetched the accordion at once. You should have
-seen us! I played for them twice after that night; and yesterday when
-we arrived at Sydney--Oh, Dan such a lovely place, with such a
-bay!--they gave me a sovereign, which I put into Ellen's purse. Tell
-Ellen that!'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A blush came into Ellen's face, and her heart beat more quickly, when
-she heard that Joshua was so careful of the purse she had worked for
-him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Filled with such like matter, the letters could not fail to be a
-source of delight. Dan was commissioned to give Joshua's love to
-Ellen, and Ellen was asked to pay a visit to the Old Sailor, and to
-tell him that Joshua was doing hie duty. Susan received messages for
-Basil and Minnie, and was to tell Minnie that Joshua would bring her
-some beautiful shells--&quot;shells in which Minnie can hear the waves
-singing to each other in whispers,&quot; Joshua wrote, almost poetically.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie, sitting in her corner, scarcely spoke a word; she was thinking
-of the sailor-lad who had been so kind to her, and she was looking
-with the eyes of her mind upon the picture which Dan had painted of
-Joshua, with his handsome face and free waving hair, standing on the
-deck, and laughingly shaking the spray from his eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor nodded approval as the letters were read, and then
-traced Joshua's course on a map which he had brought with him,
-stopping many times to tell the eager on-lookers of the wonders and
-the glories of the beautiful South Pacific. The map was spread on the
-table, and it was not an unattractive picture to see them all
-clustered round the Old Sailor, peeping over his shoulders and under
-his arms, as with his great forefinger he followed the ship from port
-to port. Mrs. Marvel, who had taken to spectacles, found them of but
-little use to her on this occasion, for the obstinate tears came into
-her eyes and dropped into the ocean which the Old Sailor's forefinger
-was ploughing. Minnie leaned over Dan's shoulder, and the table was so
-small that she had to put her arm round Dan's neck and to put her face
-close to his, so that she might see. A strange feeling of happiness
-came upon Dan as her cheek nestled close to his; a feeling of
-happiness so exquisite that all his senses were merged in it. The
-common parlor, the eager faces peering at the map, the pleasant voice
-of the Old Sailor explaining the route, all faded from before him, and
-he was conscious of nothing but Minnie's presence. He felt the warm
-contact of a soft hand; it was Minnie's hand, which in her eager
-abstraction she had placed on his. He folded it in his, and she
-allowed it to rest there. It was like a dream. He feared to move
-and held his breath lest he should awake. A sudden murmur of
-voices--voices that sounded for a moment as if they came from afar
-off--aroused him; he looked into Minnie's face, and saw it lighted up
-with a happiness that seemed to be a reflex of his own; and as she
-turned her eyes to his, so luminous a beauty dwelt in them that he
-could have fallen at her feet and worshipped her. But the dream was at
-an end--the blissful silence which had encompassed him was invaded.
-Minnie had returned to her corner, and his friends were speaking
-together, and laughing and appealing to him upon some point which he
-had not heard. Dan still felt the warm pressure of Minnie's hand and
-the soft contact of her cheek; and unobserved he rested his lips upon
-the palm which had clasped hers, and kissed it softly and wonderingly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There was only one person in the party who did not feel happy. That
-one was Solomon Fewster. Directly he entered the room he had been
-greeted with the joyful tidings; and understanding that he was
-expected to share in the general excitement of pleasure, he professed
-a delight which he did not experience. That afternoon he had purchased
-a rare flower, which it was his intention to present to Ellen. He had
-brooded over the idea for several days, and had decided that it would
-be a good thing to do. As he entered the room with the flower in the
-button-hole of his coat, he was already primed with a few
-complimentary words which he had learned by heart to say to Ellen,
-when he presented his gift. Ellen had never before looked so pretty,
-he thought. Her eyes were brighter, and there was a more joyous
-animation than usual in her manner. She greeted him with a smile so
-much more gracious than he was accustomed to receive from her, that he
-congratulated himself upon the purchase of the flower. She gave him
-her hand with more than her usual warmth, and when he ventured gently
-to press it, she did not resent the liberty. The fact was, she did not
-notice it. She was full of joy, and, as is the case with all amiable
-natures, she dispensed gleams of her happiness to all with whom
-she came in contact. Unless we are too much engrossed in our own
-special cares, we sometimes meet with such like happy faces in
-the streets--faces which seem to say, &quot;We are happy; be happy with
-us&quot;--faces which, although quite strange to us, which we have never
-seen before and may never see again, will kindle with a smile of
-welcome upon the smallest encouragement.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Solomon Fewster was terribly discomfited when he learned the
-reason of her cheerfulness and animation; it was because letters had
-been received from Joshua. He determined not to present his flower
-just then, for he read something in Ellen's blushes that sorely galled
-him. He could not help thinking that the fuss they were making about a
-common sailor-boy, and the laughing and the crying they indulged in
-over Joshua's stupid letters, were utterly ridiculous, and in a sort
-of way derogatory to himself, Dan's best patron.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As the night wore on, his anger and uneasiness increased; and yet he
-lingered until the last moment, torturing himself with all kinds of
-speculations as to what was the nature of the feeling that Ellen
-entertained for Joshua. Every expression of gladness that fell from
-her lips concerning Joshua and Joshua's career was painful to him, and
-it was with a bitter heart that he left the house, with the flower
-still in his coat. He was hot and feverish as he closed the
-street-door behind him, and he was not sorry to find that a heavy rain
-was falling. He took off his hat and bared his head to the rain.
-Within the house he had been compelled to repress expression of his
-feelings; it was a relief to him now to feel that no one was by, and
-that he could speak out at last. And the first words he uttered, as he
-smoothed his wet hair and put on his hat, were, &quot;Damn Joshua Marvel! I
-would give money to drown him!&quot; As he spoke the words aloud, he was
-conscious of a slouching figure at his side. Although it was raining,
-the night was not quite dark there was enough light for him to notice
-that the man who had approached him was in rags--most probably a
-beggar. Muttering that he had nothing to give, Solomon Fewster walked
-on. But the man was not to be so easily shaken off, and Mr. Fewster
-being in an eminently quarrelsome mood turned upon him, and repeated
-in no civil tone that he had nothing to give.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have not asked you for any thing,&quot; said the man, surlily, &quot;though
-if I had, you might speak to me more civilly, Mr. Fewster.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They were passing a lamp-post, and, attracted by the utterance of his
-name, Mr. Fewster stopped and said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How do you know my name?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know it; that is enough,&quot; was the answer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah!&quot; said Mr. Fewster, regarding the Lascar with curiosity and
-recognizing him, &quot;I have seen you before, my man.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is not saying much against me, master,&quot; said the Lascar, rather
-sneeringly. &quot;I have seen <i>you</i> before; so we're equal.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And whenever I have seen you, it has been in this street,&quot; continued
-Mr. Fewster.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And pretty well whenever I have seen you, it has been in this
-street,&quot; retorted the Lascar; &quot;you seem to be as fond of it as I am.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And generally of a night.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The same to you master; and what then? The street is free to me as it
-is to you. Look you. I know more than you are aware of. If it comes to
-that, why do you go so often to that house?&quot; The sudden look of
-discomposure that flashed into Mr. Fewster's face was not lost upon
-the Lascar, who had seen him walking by Ellen's side more than once,
-and who had stealthily followed them on every occasion. &quot;Look you,
-master. What one man does for love, another man does for hate.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hate of whom? What do you mean?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The people in that house have received letters from Joshua Marvel
-to-day.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, what of that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What of that!&quot; cried the Lascar, in a voice of suppressed passion,
-and yet with a cunning watchfulness of Mr. Fewster's face, as if he
-were watching for a cue to speak more plainly. &quot;Well, nothing much,
-master; except that I should like to know when the cub is coming
-home.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Fewster could not help an expression of satisfaction passing into
-his eyes as he heard Joshua spoken of as a cub, and the Lascar saw it
-and took his cue from it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What do you want to know for? What is Joshua Marvel to you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is this to me,&quot; cried the Lascar, the dark blood rushing into his
-face and making it darker; &quot;that if I had him here, I would stamp upon
-him with my feet, and spoil his beauty for him! He is this to me, that
-if I could twist his heart-strings I would do it, and laugh in his
-face the while! See me now, master; look at me well. I did not ask you
-for money, for I know you, and I know you don't give nothing for
-nothing. But I might have asked you, and with reason, for I want it.
-Look at my feet&quot; (Mr. Fewster noticed, for the first time, that the
-Lascar's feet were bare); &quot;Look at my clothes--rags. That old thief,
-Praiseworthy Meddler, kicked me off his barge where I've lived and
-slept this many a year. And every blow he struck at me went down to
-Joshua Marvel's account, and makes it heavier against him. See you;
-the Lascar dog never forgets. I've sworn an oath, and I'll keep it.
-I've put a cross against him, and he shall see it when he is dying.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Solomon Fewster looked at the wretch before him, quivering with
-passion and shivering with cold, and deliberately cracked his fingers
-one after another. When the operation was concluded, he said, lightly,
-as taking no interest in what the Lascar had said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is your business, my friend; not mine. I will tell you as far as
-I know about this young gentleman who has served you so well. He is
-not coming home yet a while, I believe--not before the end of the
-year, perhaps. I dare say you'll manage to see him when he does come
-home.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I'll manage to see him then,&quot; said the Lascar, with a sudden
-quietude of manner and with a furtive rook at Mr. Fewster's face--a
-look which said, &quot;You are trying to deceive me, master; let us see who
-is the more cunning--you or I.&quot; Then aloud, &quot;Thank you for answering
-my question. You say it is not your business, this hate of mine for
-Joshua Marvel. Yet there may be something in common between us for
-I've seen you walking with the girl who worships Joshua Marvel.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How do you know that she worships him?&quot; demanded Mr. Fewster, thrown
-off his guard, his heart beating loud and fast.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because I am not blind. I know that as well as I know that you have
-as much cause to hate him as I have. I am like a cat; I watch and
-watch. You are too young, my master, to mask your face; and I have
-seen that in it that you wouldn't like to speak.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mind what you are saying,&quot; said Mr. Fewster, with his knuckles at his
-teeth; &quot;you are on dangerous ground.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why should I mind?&quot; questioned the Lascar, with a curious mixture of
-fierceness and humility in his voice. &quot;My tongue's my own. I have
-nothing to lose: judge you if you have any thing to gain. Mind you, I
-stop at nothing. I am not squeamish. You are a gentleman; I am a
-vagabond. I can do what you daren't. I can help you to what you want,
-perhaps; and you can help me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The cunning of the Lascar was too deep for Mr. Fewster. The Lascar saw
-as clearly as if he had been told that Solomon Fewster loved Ellen
-Taylor, and he seized instinctively upon Ellen's love for Joshua as
-the lever by which he was to gain power over Mr. Fewster. In the
-present conversation the men were not evenly matched; the Lascar had
-all the advantage on his side. Subtle as Mr. Fewster was, his love
-blinded his judgment, and his hate led him to consider that this man
-might be useful to him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can help you, you tell me,&quot; he said. &quot;How?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am cold to the bone,&quot; said the shivering wretch. &quot;Treat me to some
-rum.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They walked until they reached a public-house; then Mr. Fewster gave
-the Lascar money.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Go in and drink, but don't get drunk.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ain't you coming in, master?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; said Mr. Fewster, with a look of contempt at the Lascar's
-tatters. &quot;You can buy a bottle of rum, and bring it out with you. And
-mind, when you come out, don't walk by my side; follow me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Five minutes afterwards they were walking in single file towards Mr.
-Fewster's place of business, where he lived. When they arrived at the
-door, Mr. Fewster hesitated. He wanted to talk to the Lascar, to get
-out of him all he knew about Ellen and Joshua; yet, looking at the
-Lascar, he hesitated. The man divined what was in his mind, and
-said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is a policeman coming along on the other side of the way. Go to
-him and say, 'Look at this man; I have occasion to speak to him on a
-matter of business; but he is a disreputable dog, and I want you to
-watch the house. Knock in an hour, and if I don't answer, or if you
-hear any noise, force open the door.' Say that to him, or something
-like it, and give him a pint of beer, and you will be all right.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come along,&quot; said Mr. Fewster, stung by the Lascar's quiet sneer; &quot;I
-am not frightened of you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have no need to be, master. You can use me like a dog, if you
-give me to eat and drink.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Like a dog!&quot; echoed Mr. Fewster, with a laugh. &quot;Well, suppose I
-regard you in that light; it may be useful.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Fewster struck a light in the shop, in which there were at least a
-score of coffins--respectable coffins, solemnly black as coffins
-should be, with respectable nails to match.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Waiting for tenants,&quot; he remarked, pleasantly, to the Lascar. &quot;The
-cheap ones--common deal--are in the workshop at the back.&quot; Mr. Fewster
-put the candle down upon a coffin, and looked complacently upon his
-wares. &quot;Handsome, are they not? This one, now, with lacquered handles
-and silvered plate for name, age, and virtues, what should you say to
-that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Shouldn't care much for it,&quot; said the Lascar, with evident
-repugnance. &quot;It would be more suitable for such as you, master. A
-cheap one--of common deal--will be good enough for me, when my turn
-comes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Quite good enough, I should say.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are not going to stop here talking, are you?&quot; inquired the
-Lascar, seeing that Mr. Fewster evinced no disposition to move.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why, don't you like it, you dog?&quot; retorted Mr. Fewster, with a spice
-of his native humor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, I don't; it smells of worms.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With a pleasant laugh Mr. Fewster led the way into his sitting-room,
-and set light to the fire and lit a second candle.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;This is better,&quot; said the Lascar, huddling before the fire. &quot;Ah, this
-is good, this warmth; it is life! Have you ever slept out in the cold,
-master?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, you dog,&quot; answered Mr. Fewster.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He had recovered his self-possession and much of his usual equanimity.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have; in the cold and wet, for two or three nights together.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There was the Union,&quot; suggested Mr. Fewster.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have been there often enough. Sometimes I was too late; sometimes
-there were too many of us; sometimes I didn't care even for that
-shelter.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Would you like to sleep in my shop? I think I could trust you there.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I think you might. I shouldn't be likely to steal a coffin. I
-shouldn't care to sleep there, master, and that's flat. If I woke up
-in the dark, I should see dead men lying in the coffins. I wouldn't
-mind it so much if the coffins were plain deal ones; but black--ugh!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Fewster laughed loud and long. Coffins were playthings to
-him--toys symbolical of the joys of life. He laughed merrily as he set
-food on the table, the Lascar watching him with greedy eyes the while.
-&quot;Fall to, you dog!&quot; said Mr. Fewster; and like a dog, devoid though of
-a dog's generous nature, the Lascar fell to, and devoured the bread
-and cheese. Meanwhile Mr. Fewster helped himself to a large glass of
-rum. He was one of the soberest of undertakers, who, as a rule, are
-not the soberest of men. He drank but very rarely; but when he did,
-all the worst part of his nature disported itself, in revenge for
-being generally kept so much under control. Now as he drank his
-rum--and he drank it neat--he became savage, vengeful, desperate. He
-had never felt till now how deeply he loved Ellen Taylor. He had loved
-her in a light way from the first, and his love had grown quietly, and
-had been fed by her avoidance of his attentions. Her behavior towards
-him had deepened his love and intensified it. Yet all along,
-notwithstanding that he felt he was not as agreeable in her eyes as he
-would wish to be, he thought that to have he had only to ask. &quot;They,
-poor working people,&quot; he thought, &quot;earning just enough to keep them,
-living as it were from hand to mouth, <i>must</i> feel flattered and
-honored by my attention--by the attention of a man who has a
-prosperous business and an account at the bank.&quot; As for marriage, he
-had not thought of that till lately. But Ellen had so firmly and so
-steadily repulsed him in any advances he had plucked up courage to
-make, that he had resolved to lower himself and ask her to be his
-wife. Having determined to make the sacrifice, he considered that the
-road was clear to him. He reasoned with himself thus: &quot;She thought
-perhaps that I did not mean honorably by her, and that is the cause of
-her treating me so coldly; but when she learns my real intentions she
-cannot but feel flattered, and must accept me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He thought over these things as he sat before the fire entirely
-engrossed by love for Ellen and hate for Joshua. The Lascar had helped
-himself to the spirits, and as Mr. Fewster sat studying the fire, he
-sat studying his host. That it was a study that interested him and
-pleased him was evident from the satisfied expression in his face, and
-from the satisfied manner in which he rubbed his hands gently over one
-another.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, you dog!&quot; exclaimed Mr. Fewster insolently.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, master?&quot; replied the Lascar meekly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Have you had enough, you dog?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Plenty, thank you, master.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Master took another drink of rum, and the Dog followed suit. The
-Master regarded the Dog with a contemptuous assumption of superiority.
-The Dog regarded the Master with becoming humbleness. But the Dog had
-the best of it, although he did cast down his eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Look up, you dog,&quot; said Mr. Fewster.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Dog looked up.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What would you do to Joshua Marvel if you had him here, with no one
-by?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Lascar, who had been playing idly with the knife with which he had
-cut his supper, raised it, and with a fierce action struck at the air.
-Then, springing to his feet, he threw aside his chair, and kneeling on
-the ground, made motions with his fingers as if he were strangling an
-enemy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;H-m!&quot; exclaimed Mr. Fewster, looking at the upturned face, blazing
-with vindictiveness, that fronted his. &quot;Dangerous.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's my business. I'll risk the danger of it. See you--shall I
-speak plainly?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;This girl that you love worships the man that you and I hate&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Say that <i>you</i> hate, you dog,&quot; interrupted Mr. Fewster. &quot;I'll have no
-partnership. I am master.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I ask your pardon, master. The girl that you love worships the man
-that I hate. She is waiting for him to come home; so am I. I have
-sworn death to him. When he comes home, the girl that you love will
-have no eyes for any one but him. What chance will you have with her
-then?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Stop. You are too fast. Speak of yourself and of them without
-reference to me. Don't iterate with your damnable tongue about the
-girl that <i>I</i> love. The girl that I love, I'll have&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So you shall, master, if I can help you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;When I want your help, I'll ask for it. Now go on with your story,
-and heed my caution.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With ready wit the Lascar fell into Mr. Fewster's humor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;This girl that I speak of--as pretty a picture of flesh and blood as
-eyes ever saw--is loved by a gentleman who in a sort of way has
-lowered himself to think of her. But the gentleman has made up his
-mind to have her, and when a gentleman makes up his mind, who shall
-stop him? He goes one night to the house where this pretty girl
-lives--I shouldn't wonder if the very flower that the gentleman wore
-in his button-hole wasn't intended for her&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are a clever dog, you!&quot; said Mr. Fewster, half in anger, half in
-admiration.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, master. With the flower in his button-hole the gentleman
-goes to the house where his pretty girl lives, and there he spends the
-evening, and hears read, I dare say, some letters, which she has
-received from his rival, who is a sailor--I only speak from fancy,
-master; set me right if you can.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How can I set you right when I know nothing about it, you dog, except
-by saying that I shouldn't think it likely <i>she</i> received any
-letters?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, master. My fancy was wrong, I've no doubt. The gentleman,
-then, is obliged to listen to some letters which have been received
-from abroad, and is obliged to listen to affectionate words uttered by
-the girl he loves for his rival far away--mind, master, I don't know
-this, I only suspect it--and he sees, too, in her face, that when her
-sailor-boy comes home, she will open her arms to his rival, to his
-enemy, whom he hates, and would like to see put out of the way.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How do you know that last?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have seen it in his face; I have heard it in his voice. I happened
-to see the gentleman come out of his sweetheart's house one rainy
-night, not long ago; and I happened to hear the gentleman mutter that
-he would give money if that sailor-lover was drowned.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If were the gentleman, and you told me this to my face, I should say
-that you lied.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Of course you would; but what should you know of it? Still, master,
-confess that the story is a likely one as far as it has gone.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is more of it to come, then?&quot; asked Mr. Fewster, who had turned
-his back so that the Lascar should not see his face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is more of it to come. But say, first, it is a likely story as
-far as I have told it,&quot; said the Lascar a little doggedly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is likely enough. I have heard stories more strange.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where did I leave off? Oh! about my hearing this gentleman say, as he
-stood bareheaded in the rain, that he wished his rival were dead. Now
-that was a fortunate hearing for me. Not that I should take advantage
-of what I heard; not that I should go to the pretty girl's brother,
-and then tell him what I had heard the gentleman say about his
-sailor-friend; not that I should go to the pretty girl herself and
-say, 'Beware of the gentleman; he means mischief; if he can ruin your
-lover he will.' That would be a mean thing to do; for it would upset
-the gentleman's chances with the girl that he loves. No; I should go
-to the gentleman and say, 'I hate this absent lover, and any thing
-that I could do to make him suffer, I would do cheerfully. You would
-do the same. But you are a gentleman, and I am a dog. You mustn't be
-seen in the matter. What you want done do through me. Never mind how
-mean it is, how dirty it is; do it through me. And all the return I
-want for it is enough to buy food and shelter, and perhaps a drop of
-grog and a bit of tobacco.' That wouldn't be much to ask in return for
-what I may be able to do for him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But no gentleman would compromise himself by entering into a bargain
-with a--a&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A dog, master--say a dog; it is good enough for me,&quot; interposed the
-Lascar with a careless laugh.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;With a dog like you. I don't see how the affair could be arranged
-with a proper understanding as to what was expected to be done.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It could be arranged easily enough, master. I might ask the
-gentleman, supposing he had a flower in his button-bole, to give me
-that flower, and not say another word. That would be a proper
-understanding for both of us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Fewster rose, and put aside the curtain of the window. The rain
-was coming down hard and fast, and the wind was tearing furiously
-through the streets.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A fine storm for a ship to be in near rocks, master,&quot; said the
-Lascar, who had risen, and was standing by his side.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is time for you to be going,&quot; said Mr. Fewster, turning abruptly
-away from the window.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In such a night as this!&quot; exclaimed the Lascar. &quot;And I with no place
-to put my head in?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are homeless, then?&quot; The Lascar nodded. &quot;Well, I take you into my
-service. It would be hard if no one could be found to do a good turn
-for a poor devil like you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That it would, master,&quot; said the Lascar, standing in an attitude of
-expectation; &quot;and thank you. Could you spare that flower out of your
-coat?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Blinded by passion, inflamed by jealousy, Mr. Fewster detached the
-flower, and threw it to the Lascar, whose eyes gleamed with
-satisfaction as he put it in his pocket.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You can sleep in the out-house,&quot; said Mr. Fewster; &quot;and as every dog
-should have a kennel, I dare say you can find a coffin to lie in.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, thank you, master; I will lie on the ground.&quot; He poured what
-remained of the rum into his glass, and raised it to his lips. &quot;Here's
-luck, and my faithful service to you. You may depend upon me, for my
-heart is in my work.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XVI.</h4>
-
-<h5>CHRISTMAS-EVE AT HOME.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">A happier party was never assembled within four walls than is
-now
-gathered together within the four walls of Mr. Marvel's kitchen. That
-it is Christmas-eve is proclaimed by the two little hoops which hang
-from the ceiling, circled by colored Christmas candles; and that the
-kindly influence of the time has fallen in full measure upon the
-wood-turner's house may be read in the faces of George Marvel and his
-family and guests. Sarah Marvel, whose place in this history is but a
-small one, has grown into a comely young woman; and, indeed, the four
-years which have elapsed since Joshua's departure have changed all his
-friends for the better. Those of them who were young when he left are
-no longer boys and girls, except in their hearts, which are as young
-as ever, and which are pulsing with love for the absent hero. Not to
-be absent for long now; for Joshua is coming home. They cannot tell
-the exact day of his arrival; it may be a week yet, or a month; but
-the sails of his ship are spread for dear home. So, as they sit round
-the fire, there is a happy light in their eyes, and they look at each
-other and smile, and laugh musical little laughs.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is more than four years ago,&quot; said George Marvel, &quot;that one night
-as we were sitting round the fire, as it might be now, Josh said all
-of a sudden, 'I should like to go to sea.' Those were the very words
-he said 'I should like to go to sea.' And it came so sudden-like, that
-mother there began to cry. So you want to be a sailor, Josh? I
-asked. 'Yes,' he answered; 'a sailor first, and then a captain.' Do
-you remember, mother? And now my boy is coming home a man; and here we
-are this happy Christmas-eve, talking of him, and thinking of him, and
-hoping to see him soon after the New Year. Said mother that night,
-'Suppose Josh is shipwrecked, what would you say then?' What would I
-say then? What <i>did</i> I say then? I said that Josh wasn't going to get
-shipwrecked, and that there's more danger on the land than on the sea.
-And I was right, I was; and mother wasn't.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mrs. Marvel smiled contentedly at the reproof, and nodded in
-confirmation of her husband's words.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And when Mr. Praiseworthy Meddler came to see us for the first time,&quot;
-continued Mr. Marvel, &quot;he said the very same thing that I said about
-the dangers of the sea. And talking of Mr. Meddler, here he is, I do
-believe; and that makes our party complete.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The last words had been suggested by a great stamping and puffing
-outside in the passage; and presently the door opened, and
-Praiseworthy Meddler, covered with snow, stood in the entrance.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A merry Christmas to you all!&quot; he said, peeling off his glazed coat.
-&quot;No, no my lasses, don't come near me; you'll spoil your pretty
-ribbons.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But the girls would not be denied, and clustered round him, assisting
-him to take off his coat, and to shake the snow from his cap and hair.
-A pleasant figure he was to look at as he stood there, his honest face
-beaming with health and pleasure, encircling the waists of Ellen and
-Minnie, who nestled to him as confidingly and lovingly as if they were
-his daughters. A sprig of mistletoe hanging over the door caught his
-sight, and he stooped and gallantly kissed the girls, who pretended
-resistance, and sprang laughing from his arms. Then he shook hands all
-round, and taking the seat that was waiting for him near the warmest
-part of the fire, remarked that the snow was two inches thick on the
-pavement, and that it was coming down heavily still. It reminded him
-of a great snow-storm by which he was overtaken in a cruise in the
-north. That, of course, led to entreaties for a snow-story, and the
-Old Sailor, in his homely way, told them a story Of icebergs and
-polar-bears, which kept them entranced for nearly an hour, and which
-was all the more delightful because it ended happily.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The story being concluded, they talked noisily and merrily as to what
-they should do next in honor of Christmas. In the midst of the
-conversation, Ellen, who was sitting next to Dan, felt her hand
-tightly clasped. Looking up, she saw upon his face a listening
-expression of such painful intensity that she asked him, in a whisper,
-what he was listening to. He put his finger to his lips and told
-her--with a strange abstractedness in his manner--that he was going
-out of the room, and that he wished her to come with him without
-attracting attention.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We shall be back presently,&quot; said Ellen to Mrs. Marvel, as she
-assisted Dan with his crutches.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When they were in the passage, she felt that he was trembling, and she
-anxiously asked if he was unwell.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not bodily,&quot; he answered; &quot;I want to look in the street.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They went to the street-door, and, opening it softly, looked out. The
-snow was falling fast, and the unpretentious houses, covered with
-their white mantle, looked surprisingly quaint and beautiful. A man,
-who passed on the opposite side of the way as they opened the door,
-was the only sign of life beside themselves in the street. The man
-slouched onwards, and dragged his feet along the pavement in a brutish
-kind of way, tearing a black gash in the pure white snow, out of sheer
-wantonness as it seemed. It looked like a desecration.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ellen,&quot; said Dan, when the man was out of sight, &quot;I would not tell my
-fancies to any one but you. I am not happy. All last night I was
-dreaming of Joshua.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That was good, dear,&quot; said Ellen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It was not good, Ellen. My dreams were bad ones. They were too
-confused and indistinct for me to remember them clearly. But the
-impression they left upon me was that Joshua was in danger; I cannot
-tell in what way or from whom. I did not hear a word of the story Mr.
-Meddler just told us. I was thinking of I don't know what--and all of
-a sudden, Ellen, I fancied that I heard Joshua's voice.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is because he is so near us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Near us? Yes. He is very near us; nearer than you imagine.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How do you know, dear?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I feel that he is; and strange to say, Ellen, the feeling does not
-seem to bring me pleasure.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O Dan!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is so, Ellen; I cannot help it. That Joshua is near us, I am
-certain. See: is there anybody in the street?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen looked up and down. No; there was no person to be seen, and she
-said so.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How beautiful the night is, Dan!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, like fairyland, almost,&quot; said Dan. &quot;It hurts me to see that
-black track on the other side, where the man was walking. Did you
-notice how he slouched along? Look at that shadow at the end of the
-street. Is it the same man, I wonder?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The shadow lingered for a few moments, as if undecided which road to
-take, and then disappeared again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dan, dear,&quot; whispered Ellen, &quot;you said that you would not tell your
-fancies to any one but me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, Ellen?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;May I whisper something, my dear?&quot; she asked very tenderly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Would you not tell them to Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She was supporting Dan, and his hand was round her neck; a nervous
-twitching of his fingers told her that her question was a momentous
-one.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dear Ellen,&quot; he answered in an agitated voice, &quot;I do not think I
-would--at least just yet--because--because&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because what, dear?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because I am not sure, Ellen,&quot; he said, with a sob which he strove in
-vain to suppress. &quot;Do not say any thing more, dear. My heart is very
-sad.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She obeyed him, and kissed him, and then, with a lingering look at the
-wondrous white outlines of eaves and roofs and at the wondrous white
-carpet with which the earth was clad, they closed the street-door and
-re-entered the kitchen. There they were greeted with the news that
-Basil Kindred was going to describe and read a play to them. The play
-which Basil had selected was Shakspeare's &quot;Tempest,&quot; with which none
-of them was acquainted but Minnie and Dan. Minnie clapped her hands in
-delight.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We will all have characters,&quot; she said. &quot;You,&quot; to her father, &quot;shall
-be Prospero. You,&quot; to the Old Sailor, &quot;shall be Stephano. You,&quot; to
-Ellen, &quot;shall be Miranda; and I will be Ariel. What a pity it is that
-Mr. Fewster is not here!--he should be Caliban. If Joshua were here,
-he should be Ferdinand.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who is Ferdinand?&quot; asked Ellen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ferdinand is a prince, and is in love with Miran--no!&quot; Minnie
-exclaimed suddenly and impetuously, the blood rising into her face,
-&quot;he should not play Ferdinand; he should not play at all. Look at me.
-I am Ariel.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With a swift motion, she unloosed her hair and let it fall around her
-shoulders. Bewitchingly graceful and bewitchingly beautiful, she bent
-in obeisance to Prospero and said with a happy inspiration,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you love me, master?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And he, partly in accordance with her pretty conceit and partly from
-fatherly affection, placed his hand upon her head and answered,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dearly, my delicate Ariel.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, motioning her to be silent, Basil Kindred, book in hand,
-commenced to tell the story, reading passages now and again in
-illustration of the beautiful fancy, and giving appropriate vocal
-distinctness to each character; so that his hearers could understand
-without difficulty who it was that was supposed to be speaking. He was
-in his happiest humor, and he lingered lovingly upon the theme. The
-fooling of Trinculo, the brutishness of Caliban, the tenderness of
-Miranda, the majesty of Prospero, the daintiness of Ariel, were all
-faithfully portrayed; and his audience followed the course of the
-story with eager delight. When he had given utterance to that grandest
-of poetical images,</p>
-<br>
-<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:90%">
-<p style="text-indent:40%">&quot;We are such stuff<br>
-As dreams are made of, and our little life<br>
-Is rounded with a sleep.&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-
-<p class="continue">he paused, and a deep silence fell upon the room, a silence that was
-broken by Dan exclaiming,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hark! a knock at the door!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Was it the magnetism of love that caused their hearts to flutter with
-joy--that caused Mrs. Marvel to rise tremblingly and say that she
-would go and open the door? But her limbs failed her, and Minnie,
-crying, &quot;I will go!&quot; ran out of the room. They below, listening in a
-state of strangely-anxious expectancy, heard Minnie ask &quot;Who is
-there?&quot; and heard her open the door. Almost at the same moment they
-heard a cry of joy, followed immediately by a sharp cry of pain. They
-ran up stairs and saw Minnie kneeling in the snow, supporting on her
-bosom the head of a man dressed in sailor-fashion, and pressing her
-lips to his neck, from which the blood was flowing. The pure snow was
-crimson-stained; and Mrs. Marvel, in an agony of fear falling on her
-knees by Minnie's side, looked into the face of the wounded man, and
-recognized the features of her sailor-boy just returned from sea.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XVII.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE DOG AND HIS MASTER.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Upon that same Christmas-eve Solomon Fewster sat in his room a
-moody
-unhappy man. He was alone; but if angry thought could have found
-palpable shape, the room would have been thronged with ugly forms. He
-had refused the invitation which Mrs. Marvel had given him to join the
-Christmas party, simply because, when she invited him, she happened to
-say something in joyful tones of Joshua's expected return. The mere
-mention of Joshua's name was sufficient to inflame him; and he had at
-once refused her in a lofty manner, saying that he had another
-engagement for the evening. The Lascar had done his work well. There
-is no death for jealousy: it sleeps, but it never dies. And the Lascar
-had been careful that even the temporary bliss of forgetfulness should
-be denied to his master. Less force of cunning than he was endowed
-with would have served his purpose with such a man as Solomon Fewster.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The good influence of the time did not touch Solomon Fewster's heart.
-He was completely engrossed by two sentiments--love for Ellen, hate
-for Joshua. The very circumstance that upon this Christmas-eve he had
-wilfully deprived himself of the painful pleasure of being in Ellen's
-company he laid to Joshua's door. Every happy face he saw that day
-deepened the hate he bore to Joshua; for if it had not been for that
-absent enemy, he would have been as happy as the best of them. Once
-during the evening he went into the open space at the rear of his
-house, and saw his neighbors' windows lighted up, and heard sounds of
-merriment issue from the rooms. &quot;Who is it that prevents me from being
-as happy as they are?&quot; he muttered. &quot;Who is the cause of my remaining
-here to-night, fretting my heart out, instead of sitting next to the
-girl that I love more than my life?&quot; He unlocked the gate in the rear
-of his premises, and strolled along the narrow lane into which it
-opened. The houses in the lane were mere hovels, yet there was not one
-of them that was not brilliantly lighted, and the echoes of laughter
-and singing floating from their walls denoted that care had been sent
-to the right-about for that evening, at least. The sounds were so
-displeasing to him that he returned to his room and resting his face
-in his hands; raised up the picture of Ellen, fair and bright and
-beautiful. He was a calculating, unfeeling man; and if it had so
-happened that there had been no obstacle to the smooth course of his
-love, he might have remained so to the end of his days, and might
-never have suspected that there were points in his character which
-would not bear to close a scrutiny. But the means by which we are
-brought to a knowledge of ourselves are oftentimes very strange. The
-majority of us go down to our graves without suspecting that there are
-powerful forces hidden within us, which, had opportunity for display
-been allowed them, would have materially altered the tenor of our
-lives, whether for good or for evil. Solomon Fewster's love for Ellen
-was the most ennobling feeling he had ever experienced. His hatred for
-Joshua, and the thoughts and desires prompted by that hate were the
-most villainous. It is strange that the hate which disgraced him, not
-the love which ennobled him, should have made him conscious of his
-defects. It was that very hatred that brought to him the knowledge
-that he was not a good man; and that caused him to reflect that, if
-his love were returned, it would be the means of making him better.
-His thoughts were taking this direction now, and he was still sitting
-with his face resting in his hands, when he was startled by the sound
-of the gate being violently dashed aside. He remembered that he had
-forgotten to fasten it. Before he had time to rise, the latch of the
-door was lifted, and the Lascar glided in like a white spectre. With a
-strange feverishness of manner, the Lascar turned the key in the door,
-and at the same moment stooped and listened, holding up a warning
-finger as a caution for Solomon Fewster to be silent. He remained in
-that position for two or three minutes; then rose upright, and drew a
-long breath.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What now?&quot; demanded Mr. Fewster angrily, and yet with a consciousness
-that the Lascar had sufficient cause for his abrupt entrance. &quot;What
-thieves' trick have you been up to to-night, you dog! that you run in
-here as if the police were at your heels?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They are not,&quot; said the Lascar, shaking the snow from his clothes,
-dog-like; &quot;and that's a good thing, master, for you and for me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For me, you dog! You dare to say that!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I forgot to close the gate,&quot; said the Lascar, taking no notice of Mr.
-Fewster's exclamation. He went out, and having locked the gate,
-re-entered; and, seeing a bottle on the table, said, &quot;What's this?
-Rum?&quot; He did not wait to be invited, but helped himself freely, and
-spread his cold hands before the fire. &quot;I am numbed to the bone. It's
-precious cold being out in the snow all day. I didn't hope to find you
-at home, master. I thought you would be enjoying yourself like a
-gentleman. I ran in here, finding the gate open, not knowing where to
-run. It is snowing fast--that's one comfort--and my footsteps will
-soon be filled up.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">All the while he spoke he was busily occupied warming his fingers and
-blowing on his knuckles.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, explain the meaning of all this,&quot; said Mr. Fewster.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Give me something to eat first, master. I haven't tasted food since
-the morning.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Fewster pointed to the cupboard; and the Lascar took bread and
-meat, and ate swiftly and ravenously.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My service to you, master,&quot; he said, glass in hand, &quot;and a merry
-Christmas.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When he had emptied the glass, he threw a knife on the table. It was a
-clasp-knife, and the blade was open. There was a triumphant
-demonstrativeness in the action that instantly attracted Mr. Fewster's
-attention. He saw blood upon the blade--blood scarcely dried. Whose
-blood was it? A mist floated before his eyes. It was there but a
-moment; but in that moment a picture presented itself to him in the
-midst of a lurid cloud--a picture of a handsome sailor, smitten by an
-assassin's hand, falling to the ground. Then the figures were lost in
-a glare of bright blood and bright snow; and they, in their turn, were
-lost in black shade. Although the vision lasted but a moment, it
-produced the curious effect upon him of having been enveloped in
-darkness for a long time; and the sudden awakening to consciousness
-caused him to shade his eyes with his hand, as if the light in the
-room were too strong for him. Awake again, the Lascar's familiar
-action and bearing smote him with a sense of danger. The instinct of
-self-preservation whispered to him that his good name might be
-imperilled by further association with the man. It was clear that the
-Lascar had done a desperate deed--a deed which, although he shuddered
-to think of it, had perhaps removed his enemy from the scene. But if
-so, it was murder. The merest whisper, the faintest breath of
-suspicion, would be his ruin, not only with the world, but with Ellen.
-He would pay for services--yes; but he would take no risk. It behoved
-him to be wary.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They've had a merry party down yonder,&quot; said the Lascar, with a
-motion of his head in the direction of Mr. Marvel's house. &quot;I made
-certain you were there, master. I've been hanging about the street all
-night in the cold. I've been on the watch; shall I tell you for whom?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No; I want to know nothing,&quot; replied Mr. Fewster, measuring his words
-carefully. &quot;Understand me once and for all. Whatever you do you do on
-your own responsibility; and I will in no way be associated with it or
-with you. If you presume to associate me with any acts of violence on
-your part, I wash my hands of you. Nay, more: I will set those upon
-you who will not let you escape easily.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I understand you, master,&quot; said the Lascar, without the least show of
-resentment. &quot;But go on; you have more to say. I'll wait till you've
-done.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You dog, you! You break into my house as if you had a right here! You
-tell me, as if I were interested in knowing, that the police are at
-your heels, and that you are afraid of your very footsteps being
-tracked! You have the presumption to say that it is a good job for me
-that it is not so! You throw down this knife before me with blood upon
-it! What is it to me whose blood it is, or what crime you have
-committed? What if it were to be discovered that you had rendered
-yourself liable to the law, and then had been seen to come here? If I
-did my duty, I should go for a policeman, and hand you into his
-charge, and so be rid of you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Lascar listened without the slightest sign of discomposure. He
-even nodded approvingly as he said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There's only you and me, master. You wouldn't speak so if anybody
-else was by. Don't fear; I know what you mean well enough. There's no
-chance of our misunderstanding each other, though you're a better
-actor than I am, and that's a fact. Rest you easy. No one saw me come
-here; and no one shall see me go out. As for the police, I know as
-well as you that it would suit your game as little to set them on me
-as it would suit my game for them to be set on. But you're right in
-threatening me with them. It belongs to your part; for you are master.
-And it belongs to my part to take what you say kindly; for I am a dog.
-I am satisfied so long as I get enough to keep me; and I'm not greedy,
-as you know.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Solomon Fewster was extremely disconcerted by the Lascar's coolness.
-It proved to him that he was in the Lascar's power, and that the
-Lascar knew it. He was disconcerted also by the conviction that forced
-itself upon him, that the Lascar measured his indignation at its
-proper worth. But he could not belie his nature. It was impossible for
-him to be straightforward; even in his villainy he was compelled to be
-cunning. He would take care that he committed himself as little as
-possible by word of mouth. He was burning to hear what the Lascar had
-to tell, but he would not ask. He drew his breath hard, and it was
-with difficulty that he restrained his impatience during the long
-pause that followed; for the Lascar was as determined as he not to be
-the first to break the silence. At length, feeling that he was being
-mastered, he turned wrathfully upon the Lascar, and questioned,
-&quot;Well?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well!&quot; was the quiet answer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If you have nothing more to say, you can go.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have something more to say, but I am waiting for permission to
-speak.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There was an assumption of insolent humility in the Lascar's tone; and
-Mr. Fewster bit his lip as he said, &quot;Your tongue's your own; I can't
-stop you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, master;&quot; with a cringing expression of satisfaction for
-the concession. &quot;Since I was employed in my present service--I mean,
-since a certain night when a kind-hearted gentleman gave me a flower,
-the leaves of which I have kept carefully in paper, so that I
-shouldn't forget what I had to do--I have been more watchful than ever
-in the task I had set myself to perform. I have been better able to do
-that than I used to be, because the same kind-hearted gentleman has
-generously supplied me with money, so that I have had all my time at
-my own disposal. He also supplied me with information. The task I had
-to perform was to revenge myself upon Joshua Marvel for stepping
-between me and my affairs, and for doing me injury. A little while ago
-the gentleman told me that Joshua Marvel was expected home soon; and
-then I determined that not a night should pass and find me lagging.
-Not only my hate, but my faithful duty to my master, made me
-determined in this. I set myself to watch for the return of the sailor
-Joshua; and during my watch I discovered a curious thing. I discovered
-that the gentleman in whose service I am appeared very often in the
-street I was watching, and that he was in the habit of lingering
-there late at night. He never did any thing else but look up at the
-bedroom-window of a certain pretty girl, whose shadow I have often
-seen on the blind; and he never went away until the light in her room
-was extinguished. I was careful that he should not see me, for it was
-no business of mine; and I know when I ought to keep in the
-background. Besides, I admired him for it; for I knew that he loved
-this girl, and that Joshua Marvel stood in his way. Regularly every
-day I went to the docks to see if the Merry Andrew--Joshua Marvel's
-ship--had arrived; and as good luck would have it, the ship came in
-this very morning. When I learned that, I went back to my watch in the
-street the gentleman is so mightily fond of. I knew that Joshua Marvel
-wouldn't be able to get away from his ship directly it got into port;
-and I guessed that it was more likely than not that he wouldn't let
-his people at home know of his unexpected arrival. No; he would
-surprise them. It would be so pleasant on Christmas-eve to break in
-upon them suddenly, and be petted and kissed, especially by one&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The devil take you!&quot; cried Solomon Fewster fiercely, grasping the
-table with such force that it trembled with the trembling of his hand.
-&quot;Tell your story without preaching, can't you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I'll try, master. I hung about the street the whole day, eating
-nothing, and drinking very little. I might have been frozen, if my
-purpose hadn't kept me warm. I didn't grumble because I had to wait. I
-wanted him to come at night, and he came when I wanted. It isn't much
-more than an hour ago&quot;--here he dropped his voice to a whisper--&quot;that
-I saw a sailor turn the corner of the street where pretty Ellen Taylor
-lives. He had an accordion under his arm, and a cage in his hand
-covered with a blue pocket-handkerchief; and he stopped two or three
-times to look at the houses, and nodded to them as if he was wishing
-them a merry Christmas. I followed him, like a cat, and opened my
-knife. He was singing--I couldn't catch the words--and to judge from
-that and from the way he walked, I should say he was as happy a man as
-any in London. He never once looked behind him; if he had, I would
-have struck him down. He stopped before the house where his father and
-mother lived, and stooped to the keyhole and listened. I was close
-upon him--waiting! If he hadn't been so much occupied, he might have
-smelt me at his back. But it wouldn't have saved him if he had seen
-me; he would only have been struck down the sooner. While he was
-listening at the keyhole, he laughed quietly, enjoying the surprise he
-was going to give his people. When he had his laugh out, he knocked at
-the door. Presently I heard a woman's voice inside the house ask,
-'Who's there?' 'It's Josh,' said my man. I heard a cry of pleasure;
-and as the door was being unfastened, I raised my knife, and stabbed
-him in the back.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And killed him?&quot; cried Solomon Fewster involuntarily.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know. He fell; and as I ran off, I caught a glimpse of a
-woman kneeling by him in the snow, and raising his head to her bosom.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Solomon Fewster groaned. Without another word he opened the door by
-which the Lascar had entered, and walked into the open air. The
-snow-fall had ceased, and the stars were shining. The moon, too, had
-risen, and clouds of light and deep shade were gliding swiftly across
-it, while everchanging shadows were playing on the snow. In the
-distance he heard the waits; they were a long way off, and the strains
-of music fell upon his ears chastened and mellowed. He was in danger;
-he had allied himself with this man, who made so light of the shedding
-of blood; and he had been made a confederate in perhaps a murder. Not
-that he had any compunction; not that he had any pity. Nothing would
-have rejoiced him more than to have heard that Joshua had been killed
-in a mutiny, had been wrecked, or had lost his life on sea or on land
-by any means, so that he was not implicated in it. The feelings that
-disturbed him now were purely selfish; he had to save himself from
-suspicion, supposing any discovery were made. Perhaps it would be
-best, after all, to speak plainly to the Lascar. There were no
-witnesses, and it did not matter much what he said. If Joshua were
-dead, the Lascar must be got rid of at any sacrifice of money. Thus
-resolving, he returned to the room. The Lascar was sitting patiently
-before the fire, and did not even raise his eyes as Mr. Fewster
-entered. &quot;He did not know what I went out for,&quot; thought Mr. Fewster.
-&quot;I might have gone for a policeman, and if I had brought one in, he
-would have declared I was his accomplice.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Has it left off snowing, master?&quot; asked the Lascar.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Then it wouldn't be quite safe for me to go away to-night--safe for
-you, I mean.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You can stop here to-night.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, master. Have I done well?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It doesn't matter whether I say you have done well or ill; so, to
-save argument, suppose I say you have done well. Now, attend. If what
-you have done to-night should turn out to be&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Say murder, master,&quot; said the Lascar, seeing that Mr. Fewster
-hesitated to speak plainly. &quot;I don't mind.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If it should turn out to be that, have you considered that you are in
-danger?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I haven't thought of it, master, and that's a fact. But if I am in
-danger, so are you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That may or may not be. The only danger I am in is from what you
-might say; and, supposing I had spoken to you only once in my life,
-you would be free to say any thing of me, or of any one else, for that
-matter. What you might say wouldn't be evidence, you know.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;True, master: but, at all events, I could ruin your chances with
-pretty Ellen Taylor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What satisfaction would that be to you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Every satisfaction,&quot; said the Lascar with a kindling eye. &quot;If any one
-hurts me, I hurt him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As you have hurt Joshua Marvel, because he hurt you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And because I am in your service,&quot; said the Lascar doggedly. &quot;Don't
-forget that, please; I don't intend to forget it. If this is to be a
-fair argument, let it be fair. If it is to be acting, let it be
-acting. What I have done to-night is half for me and half for you:
-equal shares.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I told you once that I would have no partnerships,&quot; said Mr. Fewster
-in a steady voice, &quot;and I will have none; but I don't mind coming to a
-distinct understanding. If what you have done to-night should turn out
-at its worst&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Or its best,&quot; interrupted the Lascar sneeringly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It will not be safe for you to remain in the country. To please you,
-I will say it will not be safe for you or for me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah!&quot; exclaimed the Lascar thoughtfully. &quot;I think I understand you.
-Well, in that case there are plenty of countries I shouldn't mind
-going to; or I might go aboard ship again. How much will you give me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A hundred pounds.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Agreed, master,--if it should turn out at its worst, as you say. But
-if it does not, I stay, mind you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is your affair.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As much yours as mine, master,&quot; said the Lascar with determination.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What makes you harp upon that, you dog?&quot; exclaimed Mr. Fewster,
-firing up.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Necessity,&quot; replied the Lascar coolly. He liked the life of indolence
-he had been leading, and he did not intend to relinquish his hold of
-Solomon Fewster. &quot;I have no money, and no means of living. You have
-acted fairly to me up to now, and you must continue to do so. You can
-afford it, that's certain. I know what it is you fear. You fear that
-it should be known that I am in your service. Well, no one shall know
-it from me; and I will never come here again. You know where I stay.
-What you have to give me, leave there for me; and when you want me,
-send for me. I am your dog, ready to do your bidding. I can't speak
-fairer. There's no occasion for any more palaver. I'm tired and
-sleepy; I can sleep here, before the fire.&quot; He stretched himself on
-the ground by the side of the fire. &quot;Silence gives consent, they say.
-If you don't speak, I shall understand that the affair is settled. You
-wanted a distinct understanding, you know.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He closed his eyes, and listened for the answer. The answer came--in
-silence; for Solomon Fewster spoke not another word that night. The
-Lascar, made drowsy by the glare from the fire, courted sleep; and it
-came to him, as it comes to better men. And Solomon Fewster sat,
-looking down upon the form of the man who could blast his good name by
-a word, and thought--What? Once during the night the Lascar awoke with
-a shiver. The fire had gone out; but Solomon Fewster was still sitting
-at the table with a haggard look upon his face, as if he had suddenly
-grown old.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XVIII.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE RIVALRY OF LOVE.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">A silence almost like the silence of the grave reigned in the
-house of
-the Marvels. If, by some chance, a blind man had found his way there,
-he might reasonably have wondered whether it was tenanted by ghosts or
-human beings. The persons in the house walked about it with such a
-ghostly motion that scarcely a footfall could be heard. The doors were
-opened and shut as tenderly as if wounds were being handled, and as if
-rough treatment would cause them to cry out with pain. The very voices
-were hushed and low, and what was said was said in whispers. The blow
-by which Joshua had been struck down was a severe one, and wounded
-many besides himself. Notwithstanding Minnie's efforts, Joshua had
-lost a great deal of blood, and was laid on a sick-bed for many weeks.
-For a long time the doctor feared for his life; but good nursing and a
-strong constitution were in his favor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But mind you, Mrs. Marvel,&quot; the doctor had said, half-a-dozen times,
-&quot;nothing <i>would</i> have saved him--not even his constitution, and
-it's a good one; not even the nursing he has had, and no man ever had
-better--nothing <i>would</i> have saved him if Miss Kindred had not behaved
-like a heroine. You may thank that young lady for saving your son's
-life. If she hadn't stopped the flow of blood with her lips, all the
-doctors in London couldn't have kept him in the world for twenty-four
-hours.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When Minnie was told of this, she went to her room and locked herself
-in.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have saved him!&quot; she said to herself, weeping tears of delicious
-joy. &quot;I have saved his life! Oh, what happiness! I could die now, I am
-so happy!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It might have been better for her if she had died then with those
-words upon her lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">During the time that Joshua was in the greatest danger, Mrs. Marvel
-would allow no one but herself to sit up with him at night. She had a
-bed made up on the floor, and rested there, taking, indeed, but little
-sleep, until Joshua was out of danger. Minnie, especially, had pleaded
-hard to be allowed to sit up with her; but Mrs. Marvel was firm.
-Although she would not have confessed it even to herself, she was
-jealous of the girl's solicitude; and once expressed herself angrily
-because Minnie had offered to give Joshua his medicine. Afterwards,
-seeing Minnie in tears, Mrs. Marvel kissed her and begged her pardon
-in a gentle, motherly way, which made Minnie cry the more. Mrs. Marvel
-found Minnie more difficult to manage than Ellen. Ellen was
-wonderfully undemonstrative and wonderfully obedient. And besides,
-Ellen was never in the way when she was not wanted, and was always at
-hand the instant she was required. There was an instinctive sympathy
-between Mrs. Marvel and Ellen which did not exist between Mrs. Marvel
-and Minnie. The good mother loved both the girls, but she loved Ellen
-like a daughter. In the second week of Joshua's illness a circumstance
-occurred which, for a short time, occasioned Mrs. Marvel much anxious
-thought. Joshua being more feverish than usual--for three weeks he was
-delirious, and did not know where he was, or who were tending him--the
-girls hovered about the room (in their anxiety to be of some
-assistance) rather later than Mrs. Marvel generally allowed them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Go to bed, girls,&quot; said Mrs. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen rose obediently, and kissing Mrs. Marvel, and asking to be
-called if Mrs. Marvel wanted assistance in the night, went softly out
-of the room. But Minnie lingered behind, and with a yearning, wistful
-look at Mrs. Marvel, begged, in the softest of whispers, to be allowed
-to sit up with her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, child,&quot; said Mrs. Marvel, &quot;I can't think of it. You would be of
-no use to me to-morrow if you were to sit up to-night.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, yes, I should!&quot; said Minnie, still pleading; &quot;you don't know what
-a strong girl I am. Do let me stop with you! Do let me think that I
-can do something to help you!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You can do a great deal if you obey me, Minnie; and you do assist me
-very much, my dear; but I will not let you sit up to-night. Hush!&quot; For
-here Joshua said something aloud, and murmured feverishly in his
-sleep. When he was quiet, Mrs. Marvel said, &quot;Don't distress me, dear
-Minnie; go to bed, like a good girl.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie, with deep sighs, went to the bedside to look at Joshua and to
-bid him a silent goodnight--Mrs. Marvel regarding her jealously the
-while--and then crept out of the room in tears. The girls being gone,
-Mrs. Marvel felt more contented. She sat down by her son's bedside,
-and, with that lightness of touch which nothing but a mother's pure
-love or that of a wife can impart, smoothed the bed-coverings, and
-brushed the hair from Joshua's eyes. At about eleven o'clock the
-handle of the door was gently turned, and Mr. Marvel entered. He had
-no boots on, and she had not heard him come up from the kitchen.
-Clasping his wife's hand, he leaned over the bed to catch a glimpse of
-Joshua's face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is better to-night, George,&quot; she said; &quot;he is getting along
-nicely. The doctor said to-day that he will soon be sensible.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">George Marvel nodded, and put his lips to his wife's cheek.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You must be very tired, Maggie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She replied by a bright smile.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Shall I sit up for an hour while you lie down?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, father,&quot; knowing it would please him. &quot;Have you had supper?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A nod.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And your beer?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Another nod.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And your pipe?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; Ellen got every thing ready nicely. She is like you were when
-you were a girl, Maggie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Better than me, father.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's not possible, wife.&quot; Ah! how her heart fluttered as he said
-the word! She trembled in his arms like a girl. &quot;Now lie down; I'll
-wake you in an hour.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She had but to close her eyes--being satisfied that her darling son
-was in good hands--and she was asleep. George Marvel watched for an
-hour, and perhaps a little longer, and then touched his wife, who was
-instantly awake. Alone again, Mrs. Marvel resumed her loving vigil.
-Not a sound was to be heard except the occasional prattle of Joshua,
-now of Dan and the birds, now of &quot;father&quot; and &quot;mother,&quot; now of Ellen,
-now of Minnie and her shell. Mrs. Marvel had already learned, through
-those unconscious confessions, that her son's heart was as tender and
-as good as it had been before he had started in life for himself. A
-few minutes after the church-clock had struck two, Mrs. Marvel fancied
-she heard a soft breathing, outside the bedroom-door. She listened
-intently, thinking she must have been deceived; but no--the soft
-breathing, as of some one asleep, came distinctly to her ears. She
-went to the door and opened it, and, lying at the foot of the stairs
-in the narrow passage, she discovered Minnie, in her night-dress, fast
-asleep. The girl had evidently kept awake until Ellen and Sarah were
-asleep, and had then stolen down stairs, and had sat outside the door
-of the sick-room until she had been overpowered by fatigue. Mrs.
-Marvel stooped over the sleeping girl and whispered,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The sound of her name, chiming in with some dreaming fancy, brought a
-happy smile to the girl's lips, and she answered,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Joshua!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A look of pain passed into Mrs. Marvel's face; she knelt by Minnie's
-side, and gently raising the girl's head, she whispered again,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie! You'll catch your death of cold lying here.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie, still sleeping, encircled Mrs. Marvel's neck with her arms,
-and murmured, as she nestled close to the anxious mother's breast,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Joshua! Love me! Love me, Joshua!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mrs. Marvel trembled as she looked upon the girl's fair face, made
-fairer by the happy smile playing about the lips, and she felt a
-sudden chill at her heart.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, my poor Minnie!&quot; she said beneath her breath. &quot;Oh, my poor, poor
-Minnie!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then by a strong effort, she raised the girl, and so awoke her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Before Minnie had time to recover full consciousness, her name,
-uttered by Joshua in his fevered sleep, fell upon her ears. With a
-glad cry she sprang from Mrs. Marvel's arms into the sick-room; but
-Mrs. Marvel stepped swiftly before her, and taking her two hands
-prisoner, said, in a voice which, although very low, was stern and
-decided, &quot;I am seriously angry with you, Minnie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The sudden movements, the light in the room, and, above all, Mrs.
-Marvel's stern voice, restored Minnie to her senses. She dropped her
-head, and a hot blush of shame stole over her neck and face, while the
-hands which Mrs. Marvel held turned cold as ice. All Mrs. Marvel's
-sternness was gone, and pity only remained.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Forgive me,&quot; Minnie pleaded.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I do, child,&quot; said Mrs. Marvel, more agitated than Minnie was. &quot;I was
-obliged to speak sternly, or I should not have been able to wake you.
-Go to bed now, and be more obedient for the future.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie walked humbly into the passage, whither Mrs. Marvel followed
-her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, not like that!&quot; sighed Minnie, as Mrs. Marvel turned to enter the
-room. &quot;Not like that! Kiss me, and say again that you forgive me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And Mrs. Marvel, distressed and pitiful, kissed Minnie, who clung to
-her for a few moments, sobbing quietly, and then crept to bed.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">But who had struck the blow? Who was it that, waiting with malicious
-cunning until Joshua's foot was on the threshold of the home where so
-many loving hearts were eager to welcome him, had foully struck him
-down? Susan was the only one who had any suspicion; but she did not
-mention it, for she had not seen the Lascar for many months. When
-Minnie was questioned, she declared that she saw no one in the street.
-A neighbor asked why one of the men in the house did not look for
-footsteps in the snow and follow up the track. They could not tell why
-they had not done so; it would have been the right thing to do,
-undoubtedly, but it had not occurred to them. When Joshua was
-sufficiently recovered, he could not assist them. He was examined and
-cross-examined closely. Did he suspect any of the sailors? No; he was
-good friends with every person on board; was even a favorite with the
-captain and officers. Ah! perhaps it sprang from that, they said; one
-of his mates might have been jealous of him. No; he was certain not
-one of them was. His own opinion was that he had been stabbed by a
-thief who wanted to rob him. But there! what was the use of bothering
-about it? Here he was, getting well and strong again, when it might
-have been so much worse. Thank God, in a few weeks he would be as well
-as ever! The day that Joshua was out of danger, the doctor told him
-that his life had been saved by Minnie.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In what way, sir?&quot; asked Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you remember that, when you were struck&quot;--commenced the doctor.
-But Joshua interrupted him by saying that he remembered nothing from
-that moment.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I was walking along, too much occupied with the happiness of coming
-home to think of any thing else. I remember looking at the houses in
-the street, and stopping before our house. I heard voices inside, or I
-thought I did. Indeed, it might have been fancy. I stooped to listen,
-and then knocked. Some one asked--ah, now I remember! It was Minnie's
-voice asking who was there. Just as I answered, a dizziness came over
-me; I did not even know that I was struck.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As you answered,&quot; said the doctor, taking up the narrative where
-Joshua dropped it, &quot;Minnie opened the door. She saw you falling, and
-saw blood flowing from your neck. She threw herself by your side, and
-put her lips to the wound, and pressed so as to cause the blood to
-flow less freely. I honestly believe that if she had not done that,
-your life would not have been saved.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua did not pursue the conversation, and the doctor did not recur
-to the subject again. The following afternoon Joshua said to his
-mother,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mother, I want to speak to Minnie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mrs. Marvel, a little uneasily, went for Minnie, who came and sat by
-Joshua's bed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Are you better, Joshua?&quot; asked the girl.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, dear Minnie,&quot; answered Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They spoke in whispers. Joshua put out his big hand, and Minnie
-clasped it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your hand is quite cold, Minnie.&quot; Minnie, indeed, was very agitated.
-&quot;I owe you my life, dear Minnie, and I want to thank you for it. It
-almost seems to me, after what I have been told, as if my life
-belonged to you. Thank you, dear little Minnie--you used to like me to
-call you that!--thank you a thousand thousand times. I shall never be
-able to repay you!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't want payment, Joshua,&quot; said Minnie, when the wild beating of
-her heart was subdued. &quot;It brought its own payment with it. It is, and
-ever will be, my sweetest remembrance. O Joshua! as the greatest
-unhappiness that ever could occur to me would be&quot;--(to lose you, she
-was about to say, but she checked the words in time)--&quot;to know that
-you would not recover, so the greatest happiness that I have ever
-experienced is to think that I have done you some little service.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Little service! The greatest service, the most devoted action that
-woman could do to man! Perhaps--who knows?--one day I may be able to
-repay you in my own way.&quot; As if those words were not sufficient for
-her, who would have given her life for his. &quot;Stoop down Minnie!&quot; She
-inclined her head to the pillow. &quot;Little Minnie, little Minnie!&quot; he
-whispered tenderly, and he placed his lips to her cheek. &quot;Thank you
-for your devotion.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was fortunate for Minnie that it was dusk, and that her back was
-towards Mrs. Marvel, or the good mother would have had further cause
-for anxiety and uneasiness in Minnie's trembling form and flushed
-face. As it was, there was a long silence in the room; and Mrs.
-Marvel, approaching softly to the bed to see if Joshua was asleep,
-broke the happy reverie into which Minnie had fallen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Solomon Fewster came to the house every day to inquire after Joshua,
-and went away every day with content in his face and despair in his
-heart. If ever a man played a double part, he played it during that
-time. &quot;If he would but die!&quot; he thought many and many a time. &quot;If
-mortification would set in, or erysipelas, or something that would
-kill him!&quot; And &quot;I am truly happy to hear it,&quot; he said, many and many a
-time, to Mrs. Marvel, as in answer to his inquiries she told him that
-Joshua was improving rapidly. &quot;I have brought a little jelly for him,&quot;
-which Mrs. Marvel received thankfully. At other times he would bring a
-chicken or some other delicacy to tempt Joshua's appetite, and would
-walk from the house with earnest wishes that what he left would choke
-the invalid. &quot;I shall never forget Mr. Fewster's kindness,&quot; said Mrs.
-Marvel. &quot;I feel quite angry with myself; for I did not give him credit
-for so much good feeling. But it is just in such times as these that a
-man shows the real goodness of his heart.&quot; And Mr. Fewster met with
-his reward immediately; for they were all grateful to him for his
-attention to Joshua. Mr. Marvel always had a hearty word for him,
-Minnie always a bright look, Ellen always a kind welcome now. But it
-was both sweet and bitter to him. &quot;Ellen looks kindly upon me,&quot; he
-thought, and thought truly, &quot;because I profess myself kind to Joshua.
-Will it ever be otherwise? Yes; if money can make it so, it shall be.
-And money can do much.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Yes, money can do much; but it cannot buy love, although it is often
-paid for it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The most delicious three months of Joshua's life dated from the day on
-which the doctor declared him to be out of danger. He lived in an
-atmosphere of love. Loving hearts, loving hands, loving looks, loving
-thoughts, surrounded him. Is it better to have those than to be great
-and rich and powerful? Too modest for ambition are such blessings. Yet
-are they the sweetest, the holiest attributes of life. Of life, which
-is nothing without pleasures which cost money. Of life, which is not
-worth the living without fine linen and rich food. Of life, which is
-useless without the restless striving, the absorbing ambition, which
-make up the sum of human progress. Of Life, the Paradox!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Something which has fallen out of its proper place may be motioned
-here. When Joshua was carried into the house on that memorable
-Christmas night, two things that had fallen from his hands were picked
-up from the snow and carried in after him. On of these was his
-accordion, the other was a white cockatoo in a cage, which Joshua had
-brought home from the South Seas. Whether it was that the cockatoo was
-overwhelmed at finding itself in a strange land, or that it deemed it
-necessary to be silent in the distressing circumstances of the case,
-it certainly behaved itself in a most exemplary manner, and gave no
-indication that it possessed a tongue. The cockatoo was taken to Dan's
-house, which was but a very few doors from Joshua's, and two or three
-days afterwards Dan was startled by hearing his name called in a
-strange loud voice. He looked up at Ellen, and asked if she had
-spoken. She had just time to say &quot;No&quot; when <i>her</i> name was called in
-the same strange loud voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why, it's the cockatoo!&quot; exclaimed Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Sure enough, it was the cockatoo, which, now that its tongue was
-loosened, made as much use of it as a woman could have done. Its stock
-of language was not large, consisting only of a shrill &quot;Dan!&quot; a shrill
-&quot;Dan and Jo!&quot; a shrill &quot;Ellen!&quot; a shrill &quot;Minnie!&quot; and a softer
-articulation of &quot;Bread-and-cheese and kisses! and kisses! and kisses!&quot;
-winding up with a volley of kisses, which it continued until it was
-completely out of breath. No stronger proof of Joshua's attachment
-could have been received by Dan and Ellen. Dan was much affected by
-it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You see how he was thinking of us all the time he was away,&quot; he said
-to Ellen, with tears in his eyes. &quot;What shall I do if he dies!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Joshua did not die, and it was not very long afterwards that Dan
-was sitting in his friend's bedroom, surrounded by his birds as usual.
-It was like the old time come over again. Here they were, man and man,
-talking often as if they were boys. So much had to be told! The loss
-of Dan's parents, Dan entering into business, and how they all came to
-be living together. &quot;Wonderful, wonderful!&quot; said Joshua, again and
-again. &quot;Like a story in a book.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Just what I said,&quot; said Dan; &quot;like a romance.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Who should come to the house one day but the captain of Joshua's ship.
-the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot;? The part he plays in this story is a small one,
-but eventful enough in all conscience. He was a shrewd man of business
-and a good officer. It was to his interest to have good men about him;
-for he was the principal owner of the ship, and he was remarkably
-sensible in any matter affecting his interests. He had heard of what
-had occurred to Joshua, and he was very sorry for it, because he had
-been so satisfied with Joshua's conduct on board his ship, that he had
-determined to make the young sailor his third mate on the next voyage.
-Therein he showed his eccentricity; most other captains would have
-chosen a man who had already filled that position satisfactorily. But
-Captain Liddle liked to judge for himself, and Joshua had found favor
-in his eyes. The young sailor was steady and attentive, and had made
-some progress in the study of navigation. There was one especial
-reason why Captain Liddle wanted steady men with him on his next
-voyage. He was about to get married, and he was going to take his
-young wife with him. There was great excitement in the house when
-Captain Liddle announced himself. Joshua, who was in bed, wanted to
-rise, but Captain Liddle would not allow him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Lie easy, lie easy, Marvel,&quot; he said: &quot;you'll get better all the
-sooner.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I hoped to come with you, sir, on your next voyage,&quot; said Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, I had some thought of that myself,&quot; said Captain Liddle.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you go out soon, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not for three months, Marvel; perhaps not for four. The ship's
-undergoing a thorough overhauling. She'll have a precious freight in
-her next trip.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What loading, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Captain Liddle's eyes twinkled. &quot;Female. Lie easy, lie easy, Marvel;&quot;
-for Joshua had given another start. &quot;Mrs. Captain Liddle. I shall be
-married soon, and my wife goes out with me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua murmured respectful congratulations.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, thank you, Marvel. Now, I'll tell you what I have come
-especially for. First, though, how long before you are well?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am well now, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Strong, I mean; able to get about and do your work like a man.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not for two months, I am afraid, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That will do. Now, then. You get strong in two months, and you shall
-go out with me in my next trip as third mate of the 'Merry Andrew.'
-Lie easy, lie easy, Marvel. What do you say to it, eh?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Say to it, sir! O&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Lie easy, lie easy, my lad. When you get strong come to the ship, and
-write a few lines soon telling me how strong you are getting. Mrs.
-Marvel, your son is a good sailor, and will make a good officer. And
-this is Dan, that you told me of once? A good head; but not so strong
-in the legs as Marvel, eh?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir,&quot; said Dan with a bright smile, for he was overjoyed at
-Joshua's good fortune; &quot;but it wouldn't do for all of us to be strong
-sir; consider the doctors.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why, here is a ship, ropes and sails and all! And birds!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Obedient to Dan's signal, the sailor-birds flew up the ropes, and
-stood on the slender cross-trees, as proud as if they had passed their
-lives in the service.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good--good!&quot; said Captain Liddle. &quot;For sale, eh?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No; they are not mine sir; they belong to an old sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Very proper. Ah, young lady,&quot; to Minnie, who had been in the room,
-but in the background, during the captain's visit; &quot;and what do you
-think of the sea?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If I had been a man, sir,&quot; said Minnie modestly and quietly, &quot;I
-should like to have been a sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Very proper--very proper. Good-day, Marvel. Get strong as quickly as
-you can. You'll have to superintend cargo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Marvel, coming home at night, was told the good news before he had
-time to take the comforter from his neck. He ran up stairs at once to
-his son's room. &quot;A sailor first, and then a captain,&quot; he exclaimed,
-recalling Joshua's words when he first announced his wish. &quot;Do you
-remember, Josh?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, father, yes,&quot; said Joshua eagerly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It's better than being a wood-turner, Josh,&quot; said George Marvel
-triumphantly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should think so, indeed. You'll see!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There, Maggie!&quot; observed Mr. Marvel to his wife later on in the
-evening. &quot;What did I tell you? And you was against it all the while,
-and wanted him to be a wood-turner. He'll be a captain before he's
-thirty.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is spared, I hope, for great things.&quot; said Mrs. Marvel meekly;
-&quot;and to be a blessing to us all.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That same night, Dan and Joshua and Ellen spent some very happy hours
-together. Minnie was with Susan attending her father, so that the
-three were undisturbed. Mrs. Marvel opened the door once; but seeing
-the group, and observing how engrossed they were, she shut it softly,
-and went down again into the kitchen. Once, also, George Marvel was
-going out of the kitchen when his wife called to to him,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where are you going, father?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To Joshua's room.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't go, George. Come and sit down; I want to speak to you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Marvel resumed his seat, and Mrs. Marvel refilled his pipe and
-handed it to him, with a light, &quot;There! smoke your pipe and don't be
-so restless.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He took a few whiffs, and asked who was with Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ellen and Dan; and they are very happy and comfortable. I peeped in
-once, and I wouldn't disturb them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh!&quot; said Mr. Marvel reflectively dwelling lengthily upon that
-smallest of words.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have reasons, George,&quot; said Mrs. Marvel quietly. &quot;I never saw Ellen
-look so happy and pretty as she looks tonight.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Marvel nodded two or three times with an expression of
-satisfaction. &quot;Do you think, mother,&quot; he commenced; and then he
-paused, and repeated, &quot;Do you think, mother, that&quot;--and then he paused
-again, as if he had said enough to make his meaning clear.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I do, George,&quot; said Mrs. Marvel. &quot;I had my doubts, but now I
-really think it will be so.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That will be a real good thing;&quot; rubbing his hands. &quot;Here's hoping
-so!&quot; and he drank a full glass of beer to his mysterious toast.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What was going on up stairs that the wood-turner and his wife were
-loath to interrupt? Merely a recalling of old reminiscences and a
-closer drawing together of three hearts, which might have been one,
-for the undivided affection for each other with which they were
-filled.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thinking of then, when every thing before us was so uncertain, and of
-now, when every thing before us is so bright and clear,&quot; said Joshua,
-&quot;makes me almost believe that our ways are shaped for us, and that, if
-we strive to do our duty, our reward is certain.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is too deep a question for us, Jo,&quot; said Dan; &quot;so many
-considerations spring out of it. As to whether every good man is
-happy. As to whether every man who strives to do right is spared pain
-and misery. At all events, it is certain that the very best thing to
-do is to do what is right, and to be straightforward and honest. It is
-not too often done, I am afraid. I haven't seen any thing of the
-world, but it strikes me that that is not the way of it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If ever I am captain of a ship--and I may be, Dan--it looks
-promising&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That it does, Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You shall come with me a voyage. I will have every thing snug for
-you; hammock on deck the same as that day we spent with the Old
-Sailor--ah, what a day was that!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can recall every moment of it; from the night before, when Ellen
-stood at the window watching the rain, and my waking up in the morning
-waiting for you to come--oh, so anxiously! And the flowers, and the
-birds--the poor birds!--and the breakfast, and the ride! I tell you
-what, Jo, stories could be made out of these things. But the day
-wouldn't have been the day it was if Ellen had not been with us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen smiled, and her eyes sparkled.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Every thing connected with it is so vivid to my mind just now,&quot; said
-Joshua, &quot;that it only wants one thing to make it complete; and that is
-for Ellen to sing 'Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses,' as she sang it in the
-Old Sailor's cabin.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen, in a low voice, sang the song; and they were silent for a long
-while, musing happily. Then Joshua made a remark that his pillow was
-not nicely arranged, and Ellen smoothed it for him. Her arm
-necessarily was round his neck for a moment--only for a moment by her
-own will; for when she would have withdrawn it, Joshua held it there,
-and she, with impulse as pure as pure heart and mind could make it,
-allowed it to remain. What wonder that a silence of longer duration
-followed?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ah! if a magic spell had fallen upon them then, a spell that would
-have transfixed them and made their happiness eternal!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Not one of them knew how long that blissful trance lasted. It was
-broken by the slightest sound--it might have been the opening of a
-door, or even the light tread of our old friend the tortoise-shell
-cat--but whatever the sound was, the trance was at an end, and they
-were all awake again. Ellen withdrew her arm, and, with downcast eyes,
-hurriedly left the room. Joshua turned to Dan, and holding out his
-hand, said, &quot;Dan, take my hand, and say, Brother Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I do. Brother Jo!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's good; isn't it, Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Brothers more than in heart, Dan, as we have always been. But
-Brothers really and truly, if Ellen says yes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ellen loves you, Jo. You have but to ask.&quot; He paused for a little
-while before he spoke again. &quot;There is something in my mind that it is
-right you should know. It is the only thing I have ever kept from you;
-but now, since you have told me about yourself and Ellen&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Did you ever doubt it, Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I wasn't certain, Jo. You have removed a great weight from my heart.
-It seems strange that now, when I see the almost certain prospect of
-your future being as bright as we used to hope it would be--it seems
-strange that I cannot say I am happy. Yet one thing would make me so
-perfectly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is no cloud between you and me, Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;None--nor ever will be, brother of my heart. But a great hope,
-shadowed by a great fear, has entered into my soul--a hope which
-fulfilled, would make earth heaven for me. Is it too precious a thing
-to pray for? It seems so to me. I tremble as I think of it. But if it
-is not to be, I hope I shall soon die.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dan!&quot; cried Joshua in alarm, for Dan's last words were like a cry of
-agony.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Haven't you seen it, Jo? Haven't you suspected it? I love her so
-that, if I knew she were lost to me, I scarcely think I could live. I
-love her so that, if she were lost to me, some stronger motive, some
-stronger feeling than any I can now think of; would have to animate me
-to make my future less black than the blackest night.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You mean Minnie, Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; she is my light. Ah, Jo! How I love her! I have never spoken of
-it till now; I have never dared to breathe it. And now that I speak of
-it for the first time, it frightens me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay, Dan, take courage. You are frightened by shadows.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If I could think so!&quot; mused Dan in a less agitated voice. &quot;What can
-I, a cripple, offer her? Love? Yes, I can offer her that, pure and
-undefiled. Nothing more--nothing more! Keep my secret, Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Dan,&quot; said Joshua sadly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If all should come right in the end, Jo! You and Ellen, and me and
-Minnie!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He trembled, and burying his face in his hands, thought of the happy
-night when the Old Sailor traced Joshua's course on the map, and when
-Minnie's arm was round his neck and her cheek had touched his. How
-many times had he thought of those few blissful moments, and what balm
-and comfort had the memory brought him!</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XIX.</h4>
-
-<h5>SUNSHINE AND CLOUD.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;George,&quot; said Mrs. Marvel to her husband one night, when they
-were
-alone in their room, &quot;what has come over Mr. Kindred? He is quite
-changed.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I've noticed it too, mother,&quot; said Mr. Marvel, &quot;but I haven't thought
-of it much, because, to tell you the truth, I don't believe he is
-quite right here&quot;--touching his forehead.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mrs. Marvel had not mentioned to any one--not even to her husband--how
-Minnie had distressed her during Joshua's illness. The girl had not
-asked her to keep silence upon the subject; indeed, no word had passed
-between them about it; but Mrs. Marvel judged that it would be best
-for Minnie's sake, and for Joshua's also, to let the matter rest.
-Since the night when Mrs. Marvel had discovered Minnie lying asleep at
-Joshua's door, the girl had given her no further cause for
-displeasure. Mrs. Marvel's fears were dispelled; for Minnie showed
-nothing more than a friendly interest in Joshua's recovery. But if the
-good mother had been less openly observant of Minnie's every look and
-action, her fears would have grown stronger. For after the interview
-between Joshua and Minnie, when Joshua had thanked her and kissed her
-her, Mrs. Marvel set herself the task of closely observing Minnie's
-conduct towards Joshua. And Minnie discovered it, and so behaved
-herself that Mrs. Marvel was thrown completely off her guard. Minnie
-displayed a carelessness and an indifference concerning Joshua's
-health, at which Mrs. Marvel at any other time would have been hurt;
-but now she was silently grateful, in the belief that her fears were
-groundless.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua was better. With the exception of a scar upon his neck, where
-the Lascar had stabbed him, he was as well and strong as ever he had
-been. He had grown into a fine handsome man; and the affectionate
-disposition which had characterized him as a boy seemed to have become
-stronger with his strength. The affection that existed between him and
-Dan was unchanged and unchangeable. He took as much delight in the
-birds as ever he had done; and, notwithstanding that he and Dan were
-men now, with deepened passions and stronger aspirations, their hearts
-were as tender to each other as in the younger days of their
-friendship, when they mingled their tears together over the death of
-Golden Cloud.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Every thing was bright before them. Dan had not spoken to Minnie of
-his love for her; but he was made happy by a gradual change in her
-behavior towards him. She grew more and more affectionate, spoke
-softly to him, looked kindly at him, and did not repulse the little
-tender advances he dared to make to her now and then.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;When you are gone to sea, Jo,&quot; he said to Joshua in the course of a
-conversation in which, in the fulness of his joy at Minnie's kindness,
-he had unbosomed himself to his friend, &quot;I shall speak to her, and
-tell her I love her.&quot; He spoke very slowly, and his eyes were toward
-the ground; it was so sacred a subject with him, that his voice
-trembled when he spoke of it. &quot;Once on a time, before I knew her, Jo,
-you, and you alone, filled my heart; but I had no idea then of a man's
-passions and a man's fears. I think I should have disbelieved any
-person then who told me that you would have a rival in my heart. But
-you have, Jo; although you are not less loved for all that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I understand you, Dan, and am content. I am proud of your love. If I
-were to lose it, the sweetness would go out of life.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So it would be with me, Jo; but you can never lose it--never, never.
-I think you and I know what love is. In the midst of all our trouble
-when you first went away--trouble that came upon us so suddenly that I
-began to be frightened of it--I found consolation in thinking of our
-love for each other. Misfortunes came. Never mind, I thought; Joshua
-loves me. Mother died, father died; we were left penniless; and I
-thought of you and was comforted. You had grown so in my heart--like
-the roots of a tree, Jo--that if I had ceased to love you, my heart
-would have ceased to beat. It is the same now; but Minnie is in my
-heart side by side with you. I shall tell her, you know, by and by. By
-and by,&quot; he repeated softly. &quot;The thought of it is like heaven to me;
-for I have begun to hope.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was on that same afternoon that Ellen was sitting in her bedroom
-looking at her face in the looking-glass. She was fair; and she knew
-it, and was proud of it. But it was not vanity that caused her to sit,
-with her chin upon her hands, looking into the glass. Of a very modest
-type a womanhood was Ellen; not a heroine of the Joan-of-Arc order,
-who, with all her false glitter about her, would have been a woman
-after very few men's hearts. Ellen was of the quiet order of women, of
-whom there are thousands growing up in happy English homes, thank
-Heaven! and who are blessed and contented and happy, notwithstanding
-their sisters' unwomanly cries about woman's rights. May English women
-like Ellen, modest and constant and loving, increase and multiply with
-every succeeding year! Ellen was thinking of herself a little, as she
-looked into the glass, and of Joshua a great deal. He had not spoken
-to her yet; but he would soon, she knew. And as she sat and saw her
-pretty face looking at her, whose step but Joshua's should she hear
-coming, up the stairs? He went into the adjoining room--Dan's room;
-and she heard him moving about, and--yes; singing! Singing what? Why,
-&quot;Bread-and-Cheese and Kisses.&quot; The heroine's name in the song is Kate;
-but Joshua sang,--</p>
-<br>
-<div style="margin-left:10%; font-size:90%">
-<p style="text-indent:-10px; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">&quot;I said to Nell, my darling wife,<br>
-In whom my whole life's bliss is,<br>
-'What have you got for dinner, Nell?'<br>
-'Why, bread-and-cheese and kisses!'&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-<p class="continue">He said to <i>Nell</i>, his darling wife! The happy tears ran down Ellen's
-face; but they were soon dried; and Ellen kept very quiet, fearing
-that Joshua might hear her move. But Joshua went down stairs singing;
-and then Ellen smiled at herself in the glass, and peeped at herself
-through her fingers; and it wasn't an ugly picture to look at, if any
-one had been there to see.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was all settled without a word passing between them. I don't
-believe there ever was such another courtship. They were sitting in
-Mrs. Marvel's kitchen only four of them--father, mother, Ellen, and
-Joshua. It really looked like a conspiracy that no other person came
-into the kitchen that night; but there they were, conspiracy or no
-conspiracy. There was Mrs. Marvel, knitting a pair of stockings for
-Joshua; not getting along very fast with them, it must be confessed:
-for her spectacles required a great deal of rubbing. And there was Mr.
-Marvel, smoking his pipe, throwing many a furtive look in the
-direction of Joshua and Ellen, who were sitting next to each other,
-happy and silent. There is no record of how long they sat thus without
-speaking; but suddenly, although not abruptly, Joshua put his arm
-round Ellen's waist, and drew her closer to him. It was only a look
-that passed between them; and then Joshua kissed Ellen's lips, and she
-laid her head upon his breast.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mother! father! look here!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mrs. Marvel rose, all of a tremble, and laid her hand upon Ellen's
-head, and kissed the young lovers. But Mr. Marvel behaved quite
-differently. He cast one quick satisfied look at the two youngsters;
-and then turned from them, and continued smoking as if nothing unusual
-had occurred.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, father?&quot; exclaimed Joshua, rather surprised at his father's
-silence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, Josh!&quot; replied Mr. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you see this?&quot; asked Joshua, with his arm round Ellen's waist.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen, blushing rosy red, looked shyly at Mr. Marvel; but he looked
-stolidly at her in return.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; I see it, Josh,&quot; said Mr. Marvel, without any show of emotion.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And what do you say to it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What do I say to it, Josh?&quot; replied Mr. Marvel with dignity. &quot;Well, I
-believe I'm your father; and, as such, I think you should ask me if I
-was agreeable. I thought it proper to ask <i>my</i> father, Josh. It isn't
-because I'm a wood-turner&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, no, father,&quot; interrupted Joshua; &quot;I made a mistake. Ellen and I
-thought&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ellen and you thought,&quot; repeated Mr. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That if you were agreeable&quot;--continued Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That if I was agreeable,&quot; repeated Mr. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And if you would please to give your consent&quot;--said Joshua, purposely
-prolonging his preamble.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And if I would be pleased to give my consent,&quot; repeated Mr. Marvel
-with a slight chuckle of satisfaction.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That as we love each other very much, we would like to get married.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's dutiful,&quot; said Mr. Marvel, laying down his pipe, oracularly.
-&quot;I'm only agreeable, Josh, because I am old, and because I am married.
-As I said to mother the other night, when we was talking the matter
-over--ah! you may stare; but we knew all about it long ago. Didn't we,
-mother? Well, as I was saying to mother the other night, if I was a
-young man, and mother wasn't in the way, I'd marry her myself and you
-might go a-whistling. Shiver my timbers, my lass!&quot; he cried, breaking
-through the trammels of wood-turning, and becoming suddenly nautical,
-&quot;come and give me a kiss.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Which Ellen did; and so the little comedy ended happily. Joshua,
-having a right now to sit with his arm round Ellen's waist, availed
-himself of it, you may be sure. If Ellen went out of the room, he had
-also a right to go and inquire where she was going; and this,
-curiously enough, happened four or five times during the night. If any
-thing could have added to the happiness of Mr. Marvel--except being
-any thing but a wood-turner, which, at his age, was out of the
-question--it was this proceeding of Joshua's. Every time Joshua
-followed Ellen out of the room; Mr. Marvel looked at his wife with
-pleasure beaming from his eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It puts me in mind of the time when I came a-courting you, mother,&quot;
-he said. &quot;How the world spins round! It might have been last night
-when you and me were saying good-by at the street-door.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Mrs. Marvel had not spoken to her husband without cause of the change
-that had taken place in Basil Kindred. A very remarkable change had
-indeed taken place in him. A mistrustful expression had settled itself
-upon his face, accompanied by a keen hungry watchfulness of all that
-occurred around him. He gave short answers, and was snappish and
-morose. Yet not a look, not a word, not a gesture escape his notice.
-He did not avoid his friends; he rather courted their society. He
-repelled their advances, but he sat among them, watching. Every sense
-was employed in that all-absorbing task. What was it that he was
-trying to discover?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The change was so sudden. A few days ago he was as he had ever been
-hitherto, frank and cheerful,--even gay sometimes. Now, all that was
-gone. In place of frankness, mistrust; in place of cheerfulness,
-gloom. Susan was the only one, with the exception of his daughter, to
-whom he did not speak with a certain bitterness. His manner to all the
-others was as though some sensitive chord in his nature had been
-sorely wounded--as though all men were his foes--as though his faith
-in what was good and noble in human nature had been violently
-disturbed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">See him now. He and Minnie have been sitting together for hours. He
-has been strangely stern and strangely tender to her in turns, but she
-is used to his wayward moods. He has detained her by his side all the
-morning, upon one and another idle pretext; and she, as if wishful to
-please him, has humored him, and been wonderfully submissive and
-obedient. But once she had fallen into a reverie--not a happy one--and
-he had broken it by asking her in a harsh voice what she was dreaming
-about. She replied only by a startled look, and resumed her work,
-which had been lying idly in her lap. Repentant of his harshness, he
-turned his head from her to hide the sudden spasm which passed into
-his face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Are you ill?&quot; she asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, dear child.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In pain?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, dear child.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Presently she put aside her work, and rose to leave the room.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where are you going?&quot; he asked in a strangely anxious voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To see Mrs. Marvel,&quot; was her answer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sit you down,&quot; he cried sternly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She hesitated and lingered by the door, beating the ground with her
-foot irresolutely. Seeing that, he grasped her wrist firmly, and hurt
-her without intending to do so. The muscles of her face quivered, but
-not from the pain.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O Minnie, my child!&quot; he cried; then, releasing her, &quot;have I hurt
-you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; she answered in a hard voice. &quot;Why do you not wish me to go to
-Mrs. Marvel's house? You have forbidden me before.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You trouble them too much.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is not your reason, father,&quot; she said in the same hard voice.
-&quot;You are hiding something from me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Are you not hiding something from me, Minnie?&quot; he asked, looking
-anxiously into her face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What should I hide from you?&quot; she asked, in reply, coldly and
-evasively. &quot;I am not well, father. I can't stop in this room. I will
-not go where you do not wish me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He did not detain her, and she glided swiftly out of the room. He was
-about to follow her, when a dizziness came upon him, and he sank into
-a chair. It was only by a strong effort of will that he kept himself
-from fainting.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My strength is deserting me,&quot; he muttered, his breath coming thick
-and fast; &quot;scarcely a day passes but this weakness comes upon me.&quot; He
-held up his hand; it trembled like a leaf. &quot;Have I failed in my duty
-to her? Is it my fault that she does not confide in me? Or is this a
-wicked lie?&quot; He took a letter from his pocket and read it, not once,
-but many times. &quot;No,&quot; he groaned; &quot;it is true. I feel that it is
-true.&quot; He rose to his feet and felt like one just risen from a sick
-bed. He was as weak as a child; so weak, indeed, that the
-consciousness of his weakness brought tears into his eyes; and he said
-in a voice of anguish, &quot;Now, when my child's happiness--her honor,
-perhaps--depends upon my watchful care, I am helpless. If I had some
-one that I could trust some one to help me!&quot; He heard a step upon the
-stairs. It was like an answer to his wish. &quot;It is Susan,&quot; he muttered;
-&quot;the one being that I know in the world who would serve me faithfully,
-Susan, Susan!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She heard him, although his voice was faint and low, and entered the
-room. Alarmed by the traces of illness in his face, she hastened to
-his side.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are ill,&quot; she said, assisting him to a seat. &quot;Can I do any thing
-for you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; he answered. &quot;You can do much. You can be my friend.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your friend!&quot; she exclaimed. Had she not always been his friend? But
-there was a deeper meaning in his voice than she had ever heard
-before, and his appeal sent thrills of pleasure to her heart.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am ill,&quot; he continued; &quot;but it is more from weakness than any thing
-else. I am not in pain. A dizziness seizes me, as it seized me just
-now, and I feel as if my senses were leaving me. I can scarcely stand;
-and I have no one to trust to.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not Minnie?&quot; she said softly and wonderingly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hush! Minnie, of all others, must not be told of this. Can I trust
-you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I would work till I dropped to serve you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A flush came into his face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To serve me and Minnie?&quot; he said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; to serve you and Minnie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Give me your sacred promise that what passes between us now will
-never be divulged, will never be spoken of, by you, unless my tongue
-is sealed, and the time comes when it may be necessary to speak.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Does it concern you?&quot; she asked with a natural hesitation; for there
-was a feverishness in his manner that alarmed her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It concerns me and Minnie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I promise.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Faithfully and sacredly?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Faithfully and sacredly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He took her hand and pressed it, and then gave her the letter, and
-asked her to read it. It contained but a few words, but they were
-sufficient to cause a look of horror to start into her eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Can it be true?&quot; she asked, more of herself than of him and her
-trembling lips turned white and parched in an instant.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Susan,&quot; said Basil Kindred, &quot;I have lived long enough in the world to
-know its falseness. In years gone by, men have smiled in my face and
-shaken me by the hand, and I have learned afterwards, that while their
-manner spoke me fair, there was treachery in their hearts. My life has
-been a hard one, what with false friends and bitter poverty; but I
-bore it all patiently, and lived--lived, when a hundred times voices
-have whispered in my ear, 'Die, and be at peace!' I had an object to
-live for--Minnie, my darling child! So I lived and suffered, rather
-than die and leave her unprotected. It was a bitter, bitter life. You
-can guess how hard a thing it was for me to find food for her, and how
-often she had to go without it, before the day when you and that
-boy--I cannot utter his name--came to our rescue. From that time until
-this dark cloud&quot;--he placed his hand on the letter--&quot;fell upon me, I
-have been happy. And now, when I need all my strength to fulfil my
-duty as a father--when it seems to me a crime that I should allow her
-to go from my side--this weakness strikes me down.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Does she know?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She knows and must know, nothing. But she must be watched. If there
-be no truth in this letter--and there may not be&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I pray not! Oh, I pray not!&quot; cried Susan. &quot;For others' sakes as well
-as yours.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I understand you; if there be no truth in it, no one need know of it
-but you and I.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What shall I do?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Watch her and him, without seeming to do so,&quot; said Basil Kindred. &quot;If
-she goes out, follow her if you can without letting her see you and
-let me know all you see and hear. Mind, I say <i>all</i>; keep nothing from
-me. You have promised sacredly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will do what you bid me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He raised her hand to his lips, and in the midst of her great sorrow
-his action brought a happy feeling to her heart. When she was gone,
-Basil Kindred unlocked a desk and took out a clasped book, in which he
-wrote a few lines. &quot;It is necessary,&quot; he sighed, &quot;for my memory is
-lost to me sometimes, and I cannot recall events; and it may save me
-from doing an injustice.&quot; Then he replaced the book and locked the
-desk.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">That night, in her room, Susan sat upon her bed and bowed her head to
-her knees, sobbing, &quot;O my poor Dan! O my poor, poor Ellen! if; after
-all these years, you should find him false!&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XX.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE ONLY DUTY THAT MINNIE CAN UNDERSTAND.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; was nearly ready for sea again, and Joshua,
-having
-been duly installed as third mate, was busily employed superintending
-cargo. The Old Sailor was immensely delighted, and took an active
-interest in Joshua's doings. When he was told of the engagement
-between Joshua and Ellen, he smacked Joshua on the back and shook his
-hand again and again, and kissed Ellen a dozen times, the old rogue!
-as if he were the lucky man, and Joshua had nothing to do with it. He
-took a private opportunity of entering into a confidential
-conversation with the young lovers, and told them he had made over his
-barge and all his little property to Ellen and Joshua jointly, &quot;for
-better or worse,&quot; he added, with a vague idea that those words were
-necessary in the circumstances of the case. And he took many other
-opportunities of instructing Joshua in the duties of mate and master,
-and also in navigation and astronomy. He was more exacting than any
-Marine Board would have been, and his instructions and examinations
-were of a very severe and precise character. But he had a willing and
-apt pupil in Joshua; and he delighted Ellen by whispering to her
-confidentially that Joshua would make as fine a mariner as could be
-found in the service. The examinations generally took place when only
-the Old Sailor, Joshua, and Ellen were together; and then Joshua
-propounded, to the satisfaction of his teacher, such problems as,
-how he would send a top-gallant yard down in a gale of wind; what he
-would do if he wanted to shiver his main-topsail yard when the leeches
-were taut and the main yard could not be touched: how to turn in a
-dead-eye; what he would do if he wanted to tack on a lee shore, and
-the ship wouldn't come round, and there was not room to wear; and so
-on, and so on. The Old Sailor was not satisfied with simple answers,
-but insisted upon the why and the wherefore; so that what with working
-and studying and sweethearting, Joshua's time was well taken up. Ellen
-herself became quite learned in certain matters concerning Joshua's
-profession, and made him laugh heartily by the wise air she assumed
-when she repeated the twelve signs of the Zodiac, which she had
-learned by heart perfectly, from Aries to Pisces. Joshua, repeating
-after her, would purposely leave out Gemini or Aquarius, or another
-sign, and would instantly be taken to account. In this simple way many
-happy hours were passed. The Old Sailor had a great liking for Captain
-Liddle, because he was a thorough sailor, and Captain Liddle admired
-the Old Sailor for the simplicity of his character.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are in luck's way,&quot; said the Old Sailor to Joshua: &quot;you are
-sailing under a good master--not a land saint and sea devil--but a
-good officer and a kind man; and you have the dearest and the
-truest-hearted lass in the world to stand by you through life. Do your
-duty, Josh, to her and to your ship.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will do my duty to both, sir, you may depend.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor took out his pocket-handkerchief, and thoughtfully
-dabbed his face. &quot;I don't doubt that you will, my lad,&quot; he said, &quot;and
-to Dan as well.&quot; Now the Old Sailor uttered these last words with a
-significance that seemed intended to convey a deep meaning. His action
-was appropriately mysterious. He looked round cautiously, after the
-best manner of stage robbers, and hooked Joshua nearer to him by a
-motion of his forefinger. &quot;Hark ye, my lad,&quot; he whispered, guiding the
-words to Joshua's ear by placing his open palm on one side of his
-mouth; &quot;Hark ye. Do you suspect any thing?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua opened his eyes very wide at this; he had not the slightest
-consciousness of the Old Sailor's meaning.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You don't?&quot; continued the Old Sailor in the same mysterious manner.
-&quot;So much the better. I didn't suppose you did. Now, supposing--mind, I
-only say supposing, my lad--supposing you were asked to do a very
-out-of-the-way thing for Dan's sake, but a thing notwithstanding that
-you would be very glad to do&quot;--this with a chuckle expressive of
-intense enjoyment--&quot;would you do it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Would I do it, sir!&quot; exclaimed Joshua warmly. &quot;I don't think you or
-any one could ask me to do a thing for Dan's sake, that I shouldn't be
-glad to do.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Just my opinion,&quot; said the Old Sailor, still in the same
-charnel-house whisper; &quot;and if Dan's happiness depended upon your
-doing this out-of-the-way thing&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why, then, sir, more eagerly and willingly than ever.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's plain sailing; it might come to pass, or it mightn't,&quot; said
-the Old Sailor, returning his handkerchief to its abiding-place in the
-bosom of his shirt, to denote that the conversation was at an end.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But this did not satisfy Joshua. &quot;What might come to pass, sir?&quot; he
-asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor winked craftily at Joshua, and said, &quot;All I've got to
-say is, that it might come to pass or it mightn't.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And try as he would, that was all the satisfaction Joshua could obtain
-from the Old Sailor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In the mean time Basil Kindred's condition had become so serious, that
-he was unable to leave his room, and he was unreasonably obstinate in
-his refusal to see a doctor. He knew well enough what was the matter
-with him, he said, and doctors could not relieve him. But one day,
-urged by Dan, Minnie brought a doctor to his bedside without
-consulting him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your daughter brought me,&quot; said the doctor, seeing that Basil was
-displeased, and wisely judging that mention of his daughter would calm
-him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Basil called Minnie to him and kissed her. &quot;Go out of the room,
-child,&quot; he said; &quot;what passes between me and the doctor must be
-private.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie obeyed, and went down stairs to sit with Dan, and the doctor
-remained with his patient for half an hour. As the doctor came down,
-Minnie opened the door of Dan's room, and the doctor entered.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, sir?&quot; asked Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your father is suffering from rheumatism and low fever,&quot; said the
-doctor, addressing Minnie. &quot;I have left a prescription in his room;
-run and get it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie went up stairs, and the doctor said to Dan, &quot;You are very
-anxious about Mr. Kindred.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, sir, very anxious, both for his sake and for Minnie's.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie--ah! yes, his daughter. Well, I may tell you in confidence
-what I must not tell her. He is suffering from something more than
-rheumatic fever. He has a disease which may prove fatal at any moment.
-A strong mental shock would very likely prove fatal to him. His mind
-is far from tranquil at the present time, and it is absolutely
-necessary that he should have quiet and repose. Good-morning.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Grieved as Dan was to hear this, it relieved him, for it enabled him
-to account for the sudden change in Basil Kindred's manner which had
-so perplexed him. It also served to account for a change he had
-observed in Minnie. It was not that she was less friendly towards him;
-on the contrary, she had on many occasions been more tender to him
-than usual. But the frank cordiality of her manner was gone; she was
-more reserved, and an engrossed expression, evidently born of painful
-thought, had settled upon her face. Dan had watched it with the
-sensitive eye of love, wondering what had brought it into her face.
-Now he knew the cause: her father's illness brought gloomy forebodings
-to her heart and made her anxious. &quot;Does she ever think that I love
-her?&quot; thought Dan, &quot;and that I am only waiting for the proper time to
-tell her that my life is devoted to her?&quot; He would have spoken that
-very day, but a sentiment of true delicacy restrained him. The feeling
-that closed his lips upon the subject for the present could not have
-existed in any but a chivalrous nature.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When Joshua came home in the evening, Dan told him what the doctor had
-said. Joshua was silent for a little while before he spoke. &quot;It is
-very singular,&quot; he then said, &quot;that what you have told me should make
-me easier in my mind. Both Minnie's and Mr. Kindred's manner lately
-have given me great pain, filling me with uneasiness, which I have
-vainly struggled against. It is made clear to me now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why, that was also my feeling, Jo,&quot; exclaimed Dan almost gayly.
-&quot;Another proof of the sympathy between us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I shall go and see Mr. Kindred. I am ashamed of myself to have
-allowed such small feelings to exist. I ought to have made more
-allowance for his sufferings.&quot; His hand was resting upon Dan's
-shoulder. He inclined himself so that he could see the face of his
-friend. &quot;And Minnie?&quot; he asked in that attitude. &quot;How is it with you
-and her?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am more hopeful than ever, Jo; but it would not be right for me to
-speak to her in her trouble.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is like you, Dan,&quot; said Joshua approvingly. &quot;Ever tender--ever
-considerate--ever just. No; you must not speak until Mr. Kindred is
-better. You must wait.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan nodded assent, and Joshua went up stairs to Basil Kindred's room.
-He paused at the door and listened. No sound came from within, and he
-received no answer to his knock. He opened the door softly. The room
-was in darkness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who is there?&quot; was asked in the abstracted voice of one just aroused
-from sleep.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is I--Joshua. Shall I get a light?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No;&quot; with a sudden fierceness. &quot;What brings you here?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The want of friendliness in Basil Kindred's voice was very painful to
-Joshua, and it was only by a great effort that he was enabled to
-maintain his composure. &quot;What is the meaning of this, sir?&quot; he asked,
-very gently.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Of what?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Of your changed manner towards me, sir. And not to me only, but to
-all of us. Have we done any thing wrong--have <i>I</i> done any thing
-wrong? If I have, it has been done unconsciously, and it is but just
-that you should not leave me in ignorance of my fault. I came up to
-you now, sir, to ask that we should be to each other as we once
-were--as we were before I went to sea--as we were on the first day of
-our meeting, when you said, 'God bless you, Joshua Marvel.' I have
-never forgotten that, sir. I do not speak to you for myself alone; I
-speak for all of us, who hold you, I am sure, in the tenderest
-respect and regard.&quot; Joshua spoke feelingly, and his words had the
-effect of softening Mr. Kindred's manner.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are right,&quot; he said softly and very &quot;it is not just. Sit here by
-my side.&quot; Joshua sat where he was bidden, and waited for Mr. Kindred
-to resume. &quot;Distemper of the mind accompanies distemper of the body,&quot;
-continued the sick man &quot;and you must lay some part of my
-unfriendliness to that cause. I am sick in body, and therefore
-peevish, and therefore, perhaps, unjust. Sick men have sick fancies.
-They magnify straws, even as, lying here in the dark, I can by the
-power of my will, magnify the shadows that rest within this room and
-make them 'palpable to feeling as to sight.' Joshua Marvel, I owe you
-much; you saved me and mine from starvation. I am glad that you are
-here now, and that you met my fretfulness with patience; for there is
-that within my mind, not newly born, but newly risen that I would
-gladly not forget again. All the happiness of the last few years I owe
-to you, for it was for your sake we were welcomed here.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The pleasure your society has given to all those dearest to my heart,
-sir, is recompense a thousand-fold.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Those dearest to your heart!&quot; repeated Basil Kindred musingly. &quot;Who
-are they?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You ought to know, sir,&quot; replied Joshua, surprised at the question.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is but a whim--a sick man's whim--but tell me: of all those
-dearest to your heart, whom would you place first? Do not hesitate to
-answer me. We are in the dark, and I cannot see your face.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In the dark or in the light, before all the world, if it were
-necessary, I could name but one, whom you know well.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Still, to satisfy me name her.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ellen, sir. You know that she is to be my wife.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have heard so. Take my hand. I wish you the happiness that faithful
-love deserves. No worldly happiness can be greater. It makes a heaven
-of earth, in whatever sphere of life it comes. And if, as it was with
-me, the partner of your faithful love is called away before you, the
-remembrance of her goodness and purity will dwell forever in your
-heart, like a divine star.&quot; His voice had grown so solemn, that Joshua
-could only press his hand in reply. Presently Basil Kindred spoke
-again. &quot;Your past life should be a guarantee for the future. You have
-been faithful in your friendship; you should be faithful in your
-love.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You do not doubt it, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I cannot doubt it; your conduct gives doubt the lie. The shadows seem
-to be clearing away. I have much to say yet, if you will sit with me a
-little while.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am glad to do so, and happy to hear you speaking to me again in
-your old kind manner.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is so hard to reconcile,&quot; mused Basil speaking as much to himself
-as to Joshua. &quot;From whom can the accusation have come? And the
-motive--what can be the motive? Joshua, answer me--have you an enemy?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir, not one that I know of.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Reflect a little. Can you bring to mind any circumstance that
-occurred during the years that you have been away to induce you to
-suppose that some one is conspiring to do you injury?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am more than surprised at your question, sir; I am grieved that you
-should ask it, and apparently with reason. To my knowledge I have not
-a bad friend in the world.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your surprise is natural,&quot; said Basil; &quot;but though you may think my
-remarks strange, do not think they are prompted by unkindness. I have
-good reasons for what I say. I hold this conversation sacred, Joshua.
-As it may be the last we shall ever have, let what is said between us
-be said in perfect confidence.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Agreed as to that, sir; but you must not say that this is the last
-conversation we shall ever have.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;When do you go to sea again?&quot; asked Basil Kindred, taking no heed of
-Joshua's remonstrance.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In less than a fortnight. We set sail first for Sydney, New South
-Wales, then for China, then for home. A short trip. We shall not be
-away long this time.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Before you return, I shall have gone on a longer voyage than
-you are about to take. Nay, do not interrupt me. I have received
-warning--bodily, not spiritual, and therefore not open to doubt. It is
-impossible that I can live much longer. And with this conviction
-strong within me, I am tortured by an anxiety that racks me with a
-mightier pain than that which even as I speak pierces me to the
-marrow.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua was profoundly shocked at the disclosure; he had not thought it
-was so bad as that. Instinctively he knew what the anxiety was by
-which Basil was tortured, and Basil answered his thought.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You guess what my anxiety springs from. What will become of Minnie
-when I am gone?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">If he had seen! If in that darkened room a vision had appeared to
-answer him, could he have believed that it would come to pass? But
-silence was his only answer for a time; for Joshua was revolving in
-his mind whether it would be wise and merciful--whether he had any
-right to speak to Basil Kindred about Dan's love for Minnie. The
-conversation between them was sacred and confidential, and the sick
-man's tone when he spoke of the bodily warnings he had received was so
-impressive, that it carried conviction with it. It would be like
-speaking to a dying man, and it would be serving his friend.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is my great anxiety,&quot; continued Basil; &quot;were my mind relieved
-upon that point, I should fear nothing, for death is my smallest
-terror. I suffer deserved misery when I say that even I, her father,
-do not know her nature thoroughly, and that I fear to think to what
-extent her impulse might carry her. But I know that she needs
-guidance, and that she cannot control herself. I have taught her ill,
-or rather have not taught her at all. I have been remiss in my
-fatherly duty--not intentionally, God knows! But I see it now--I see
-it now.&quot; Even in the dark he turned his face from Joshua, the more
-completely to hide his tribulation. &quot;There is but one duty she can
-understand--the duty of love. She knows no higher. She comprehends
-that, because it is instinctive. She has her mother's devoted nature,
-and would sacrifice herself for the only duty she can comprehend, as
-her mother sacrificed herself for me. But she could not be made to
-understand that under certain circumstances love may be sinful.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua, following his train of thought, heard Basil's words, but
-scarcely understood their sense. Still he said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She loves you, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, she loves me as a father, and by that love I have unconsciously
-controlled her. But that power has gone from me. Our minds are
-strangers; they used not to be so. Once she hid nothing from me; now
-as I watch her I see in her eyes the attempt to hide her thoughts, and
-I cannot express to you my agony in knowing that her heart and mind
-are not open to me, as they have hitherto been. If I knew--if I only
-knew, I should be satisfied; for then I might protect her. Sometimes I
-think that another kind of love has come to her, and has shadowed the
-love she bore for me. But for whom? Do you know?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He asked the question in a singular tone of fierceness and entreaty;
-but Joshua was thinking of Dan, and did not reply. Have I the right to
-speak? he thought; and an affirmative answer did not come clearly to
-his mind.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are silent,&quot; continued Basil in a quieter tone. &quot;Are you
-concealing any thing from me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What should I conceal from you, sir?&quot; asked Joshua in reply, after a
-pause.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Basil Kindred sighed, as the words so hesitatingly spoken came from
-Joshua's lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Young men are often thoughtless in their actions,&quot; he said mildly, as
-if wishful to rob the remark of direct significance; &quot;they do not know
-the depth and earnestness of some womanly natures. Listen, I will tell
-you my story; it may be a lesson and a warning to you.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXI.</h4>
-
-<h5>LOVE'S SACRIFICE.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">When I was a young man, I was an enthusiast. My mother had
-died when I
-was a child. My father was a clergyman, and wished to educate me for
-the church. But my heart was not in my studies, and I did not satisfy
-his expectations. I was too fond of poetry and plays, my tutors told
-him; sterner studies were distasteful to me, and they met with nothing
-but disappointment from so unwilling a pupil. I was also difficult to
-control; would indeed submit to no control. On several occasions when
-a company of players came to the place in which I was being educated,
-I had stolen away to the theatre, remaining there until nearly
-midnight. My tutors spoke the truth. From the first night that I
-stepped inside the walls of a theatre and saw a tragedy, my fate was
-fixed. I was fascinated, entranced. I had never conceived any thing so
-grand, so noble, so heroic. Mine was a pure passion; glitter possibly
-had its effect upon my mind, but no base ingredient was mixed with my
-determination to become an actor. What nobler calling could there be
-than that which clothed the noblest of all the arts with living fire,
-which made dead heroes speak and move and live again? My father
-received the report with displeasure. He looked upon a theatre as the
-abode of all the vices. He spoke to me and expostulated with me, and I
-argued with him until I angered him. Then he took me from school, and
-kept me at home, so that he might wean me from my wicked notions. I
-had not been home a month before a company of players paid our town a
-visit. I was aglow with excitement. My father warned me not to go; I
-told him frankly that I would. He locked me in my bedroom; and I made
-a rope of the sheets, and let myself out of the window. I came home
-late, and my father opened the door for me. He was so strict a
-disciplinarian, that my disobedience was a crime in his eyes. He told
-me so sternly, and told me also that unless I complied with the rules
-of his house, and with his commands as a father, I must find a home
-elsewhere. He had other children, and he declared that I should not
-contaminate them by my example. When I ventured to expostulate with
-him, he stopped me peremptorily. There was no sign of tenderness in
-his manner. He was harsh and hard. He forgot that I inherited some
-share of his own determination, and that I was as likely to be
-immovable in my ideas as he was in his. I felt that I could have
-answered him by arguments as forcible as his, and, with the not
-uncommon egotism of youth, I believed that I could have convinced him.
-But he would not listen to me, and I was compelled to sit silent and
-inwardly rebellious while he laid down the hard rules by which my life
-was to be guided. The glittering splendor of the play I had witnessed
-that night was vivid to my mind while his cold words fell upon my
-ears. The tragedian upon whose musical impassioned utterances I had
-hung entranced, was one of the greatest that ever trod the stage; the
-play I had seen was one of the grandest of England's grandest poet.
-What! was it a crime to come within the influence of such a teacher? I
-could not believe it; I would not believe it. My father said my
-inclinations were sinful, impious, misbegotten, and preached to me
-sternly, uncompromisingly, until my heart--beating with indignation at
-his injustice--was as hard to him as his was to me. Then he left the
-room with a cold goodnight, and I went to bed. But before I went to
-sleep, I took from my box the volume of Shakspeare containing the play
-that I had seen, and as I read the noble verse, the men and women who
-took part therein came and inspired me with the nobility of their
-speech.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">On the ensuing Sabbath my father preached against play-houses and
-players. It is not necessary for me here to dilate upon his arguments;
-they were the common arguments generally used against actors and their
-abominations. Players were creatures of the devil, working in his
-service for the damnation of souls. There was no heaven for them; by
-their lives they earned damnation, and they received their wages in
-another life. It was a strong sermon--&quot;a beautiful sermon,&quot; as I heard
-many men and women say to each other as they walked from the place of
-worship; but it filled me with indignation. It was a challenge thrown
-out to me, and I accepted it. I do not attempt to justify what I did;
-but it seemed to me as if I should be false to myself if I did not do
-it. On the following evening I went to the theatre early, and secured
-a seat in the most conspicuous position, and sitting there the whole
-night through, I applauded with more than my usual enthusiasm, and
-even--perhaps I should be ashamed to say it--with purposed
-demonstrativeness. It was like giving the lie to my father's teaching;
-but I did not think of it then in that light. I was bound in honor to
-a certain course of action, and I pursued it. When the play was over,
-I walked about the town for an hour, filled with fervent passionate
-admiration for what I had witnessed. It was past midnight when I
-knocked at my father's door. No answer came. I knocked again. Still no
-answer. I was standing in perplexity as to what I should do, when a
-piece of paper fluttered on to the pavement from a window above. I
-picked it up, and saw that it was addressed to me. It was in my
-father's handwriting, and it told me in a few simple words that, as I
-had chosen to commit a sinful outrage upon his cloth, and upon his
-sermon of the previous day, he disowned me as a son and cast me off. A
-postscript was added, to the effect that, upon my calling at or
-sending to a certain place every week, I could receive a small sum of
-money sufficient to keep me from want, but that if I adopted the stage
-as a calling, the money would be withheld. In the event of my adopting
-the stage, my father asked me as a favor to change my name. I never
-received a farthing of the money; I would have died rather than have
-taken it. I started that night from my native town, and I have never
-seen one of my family since.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I need not dwell upon the details of the next few years. The
-recollection is too painful to me. When I walked away from my father's
-house, I solemnly resolved never to set foot in it again; I renounced
-all claims of kindred, and said to myself proudly and confidently, &quot;I
-am alone in the world, without friends, without family. I am free to
-adopt what course in life I think best. I will show my father, by my
-career, that I am right, and he is wrong.&quot; I changed my name to the
-name by which you know me. Speaking to you as I am speaking now, with
-the solemn darkness around us, with something like a sense of death
-upon me, I cannot hide from you any thing that comes to my
-recollection. The simple reason for my changing my name was, that it
-laid my father under an obligation to me. The motive was unworthy; but
-it is hard to reconcile the lofty aspirations and the despicable
-sentiment that in the same moment may animate a single mind. Well, I
-marched into the world friendless and unknown, filled with an arrogant
-courage, almost with defiance. I had a watch and a little money; I
-sold my watch to increase my wealth, and before I had spent my last
-shilling, I gained admission to a company of players, and commenced
-life as an actor. I had seen these actors on the stage, and had been
-inspired by them; but my amazement was great when their private lives
-were open to me. The men and women who had inspired me were poor
-struggling creatures, living almost begging lives, and suffering
-almost incredible hardships. The salaries they were supposed to
-receive were barely sufficient to pay for food and lodging; but the
-money that was taken at the doors of the theatre was often of such
-trifling amount, that at the end of the week the players were
-compelled to be content with half, ay, with a fourth the sum due to
-them. They all shared alike; there was none among them who took the
-lion's share while the others starved. The leading tragedian received
-a guinea a week, and was thankful when he got it. I have seen him play
-Macbeth, knowing that he had not tasted food since breakfast; and have
-seen him come off the stage at the end of the play and faint, not from
-enthusiasm and excitement, but from sheer hunger. From this you can
-form some idea of my sufferings; but I never wavered. I was
-indomitable in my resolve. Disenchanted as I was to some extent, I saw
-fame and glory before me, and I followed the beckoning shadows that
-lured me on. And then I saw so much to admire in the lives of my
-poor companions--so much self-sacrifice, so much devotion, so much
-virtue--that I was proud to suffer with them. &quot;Children of the devil,&quot;
-I had heard my father call them. A strong resentment against him
-possessed me when I became a witness of their privations patiently
-borne, of their self-sacrifices cheerfully made. All this
-while--though I endured hunger and every species of worldly misery;
-though I had to walk, many and many a time, forty, fifty, and sixty
-miles, through wet and mud, in boots and shoes that scarcely held
-together; though I often slept in the open air, by the side of
-hay-stacks and under hedges--all this while I was advancing in my
-profession, and enthusiastically believed that the day would come when
-I should be famous and prosperous. So I grew to be a man, more firmly
-hoping, more firmly believing. I was what is called leading man; I was
-at the head of my profession, and was only waiting for the tide--being
-prepared for it--that was to lead me to fame and fortune. But young as
-I was, the life I had led had already destroyed my constitution.
-Rheumatism had planted itself firmly in my bones, and want of
-nourishing food had so weakened me, that I felt like an old man. It
-was only the fire of enthusiasm that sustained me. I believed myself
-to be what I represented at night; I lost all consciousness of my poor
-self while I was acting; and would often come from the theatre with
-the dream strong upon me, and in my sleep weave fancies sufficiently
-bright and beautiful to recompense me for the material hardships of my
-working life.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I was at the height of my powers, when it was both my happiness and my
-misery to come to a town where we had arranged to stop for a
-fortnight, and where I gained such honors in the shape of applause as
-had never before fallen to my lot. It was a prosperous town, and our
-two weeks' stay was so remunerative, that we thought it advisable to
-lengthen our visit. We staid for six weeks--for six happy weeks. The
-place rang with my praises. I was a wonder, a genius; such acting had
-never been seen. Throughout the whole of my career I had preserved my
-self-respect; what I suffered, I suffered in silence. I complained to
-no one, and I never forgot my determination to prove, what perhaps my
-father might one day be forced to own, that an actor may be as good a
-man as a clergyman. Being therefore, in my habits of life, somewhat
-above my companions, and having been so successful in the town, I was
-courted by some of the towns-people, and received invitations to their
-houses. I was what is termed, I believe, a social success; and I was
-proud of it. Here was I, an actor, moving in as good society as was my
-father, a clergyman. Who was right now, he or I. During the second
-week of our stay, I was invited to an evening party; and as my part in
-the performance for that night would be finished by nine o'clock, I
-was enabled to accept the invitation. Fatal night--happy night! That
-night was the real commencement of my life; it shaped my career in
-this world, and it makes me look forward with joy unspeakable to the
-world beyond, where I shall rejoin the mother of my darling child. Her
-family were well born, ad occupied a high position in the town. They
-were looked upon as leaders of fashion; and I learned that night that
-they were among the principal patrons of the theatre, and that her
-father had passed the highest encomiums upon me. They were not present
-at the party, and their daughter was accompanied by her aunt, an
-eccentric wealthy lady, with whom she resided during the greater part
-of the year. I had the good fortune to find favor in the eyes of this
-lady, who had a passion for celebrities, and she invited me to her
-house. The invitation arose in this way; she had been to the theatre
-on the previous evening, and a gentleman in her company had taken
-exception to one of my readings. She mentioned it to me, telling me
-that she had insisted that I was right, and at the same time confessed
-to me, that she had not the slightest idea upon the subject, and had
-been prompted to side with me only for the reason that the gentleman
-was the most insufferably-conceited person on the face of the earth.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is not satisfied unless he is master in every thing,&quot; said the old
-lady with wonderful warmth; &quot;he is dictatorial, self-willed,
-ungenerous, and supercilious--so much so, that he will scarcely
-condescend to argue a point upon which he has expressed an opinion.
-Nothing would please me more than to be able to bring evidence against
-him respecting your reading.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It so happened that my reading was the correct one, and that the
-emendation made by the gentleman was unsupported by authority. I told
-her so, and she was delighted.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But it will be of no use my telling him what you say,&quot; she said;
-&quot;and it would not be proper to bring you together for the purpose of
-quarrelling about it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then I suggested a way. I would consult two or three old editions of
-Shakspeare we had in the company, and have fair copies of the passage
-made from them, with any notes or annotations that might be attached
-to it. There was no occasion, I said, to let the gentleman know that I
-supplied the evidence; it would be sufficient for him to see the
-quotations and the authorities, and he would be able to test their
-correctness for himself. She thanked me warmly, and I frankly owned to
-her that I was almost as much interested in the matter as she was
-herself.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah! you are a student,&quot; she said, tapping me with her fan, &quot;and are
-not actuated by such small motives as I am.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I told her that it had been my nature, ever since I remembered myself,
-to be in earnest in what I did. Success could not be attained without
-earnestness, I said; and such a spirit was not thrown away even when
-exhibited in the smallest matters. The old lady was pleased with my
-conversation, and asked me to bring the written quotations to her
-house the following day. She then introduced me to her niece.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Bear with me for a little while. When I commenced, I intended to be
-more brief but I have been carried away by a tide of memories. These
-things that I have spoken of have dwelt in my mind, but mention of
-them has not passed my tongue; not even my daughter has ever heard
-from me the story of my life. All the memories that are dearest to me
-are stirred into life by my speech; and in the midst of the darkness
-in this room, where nothing human exists but ourselves, I see my wife
-as I saw her that night for the first time--as I shall see her soon in
-a better land.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Good and evil, consciously wrought, are not of this world alone; mind
-you that, Joshua Marvel. They bear their fruit hereafter. In what way
-or in what shape we do not know--but they bear their fruit. I never
-loved but one woman in my life, and never was false to her, even in
-thought. I never harbored an unworthy sentiment towards her. I loved
-her truly, purely, solely, as she loved me. If I had done her wrong,
-and, loving her, had played false with another by a single act, by a
-single word of encouragement, even if it were weakly given in a moment
-of weakness, I could not look into this darkness as I do now without
-fear and shuddering.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">(What was it that passed into the room? The deep darkness that
-prevailed, no less than the intense interest with which Joshua
-followed the course of Basil's story, prevented him from seeing. Yet
-it was no less certain that the door was gently opened, and that a
-person with noiseless footfall entered the room, and, wrapped in
-shade, stood silent in listening attitude.)</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">She loved me, and sacrificed herself for me. Loving me, she conceived
-it to be her duty to follow me; she forsook friends and family, and
-imperilled her good name for me; and in this solemn moment, when all
-the dearest memories of my life give life to my words, life to my
-thoughts, I bless her for it! Her devotion, unworldly as it was, was
-sanctified by love. There is no earthly sacrifice that love will not
-sanctify!</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">(A sound, half sigh, half sob, floated on the air, but so light that
-Joshua doubted if he had heard it. It reached Basil's ears. Rising in
-bed, he clutched Joshua by the shoulder, and whispered in trembling
-tones, &quot;Can spirits speak, and make themselves heard? Did you hear any
-thing?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Something like a sigh, I thought,&quot; said Joshua; &quot;and yet it is not
-possible.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rising, he walked to the door; but whoever it was that had entered so
-noiselessly had so departed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is no one here; it must have been fancy.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Basil sank down in the bed, exhausted by emotion, and it was long
-before he resumed his story. During the silence, Joshua thought of
-Ellen, and was happy. Such love as Basil Kindred had spoken of, Ellen
-had given to him. &quot;But she will not have to sacrifice herself for me,&quot;
-he thought; &quot;hers and mine will be a happier lot, I hope.&quot; Yet Basil's
-life was grand and noble. &quot;Like a great storm at sea,&quot; thought Joshua,
-&quot;and two small boats, lashed together, contending against it vainly.&quot;
-His thoughts were interrupted by Basil's voice.)</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">I need not describe her. Minnie is like her; but she was more
-beautiful even than Minnie. I went to the aunt's house, and was a
-frequent visitor there. Alice and I loved each other from the first.
-How I won her pure heart, I do not know. I will not say I was unworthy
-of her; for I was animated by a true ambition, and I was earnest and
-conscientious in all I did. I did not deceive her; I told her exactly
-what I was, what I had suffered, and what I hoped to gain. She paid no
-heed to worldly matters; she loved me, and that was enough. She
-sympathized with me in my ambition, and said it was a noble one. Her
-words were like wine to me; they strengthened and encouraged me.
-During the last week of our contemplated stay in the town I was
-stricken down by rheumatic fever, and was confined to my bed for
-nearly two months. The other members of the dramatic company waited
-for me for a few days, hoping I would get well; but I grew worse, and
-they were too poor to remain idle; so they left without me, and I was
-alone in the place.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I was delirious for a long time, and knew no one about me. How well I
-remember the day when consciousness returned! I opened my eyes,
-wondering where I was, and what had occurred yesterday to cause me to
-feel so deliciously weak; but I could not understand it, and I lay
-contented and happy, as if newly born into a world of peace and
-blissful repose. But as I lay--it might have been for a few moments or
-a few hours--a soft murmur of voices fell on my ear. I did not turn
-immediately in the direction of the sound; I was content to lie and
-listen to the murmur, and had no desire to analyze it--it so
-harmonized with my condition--there was such a sense of luxurious ease
-in it: it was like the soft lapping of the sea upon a shore of velvet
-sand! But with returning consciousness, my mind was gradually aroused
-into activity; and in the whispering of voices, a familiar note,
-sweeter and more musical than the rest, came to me. Lazily I turned my
-head, and saw my darling Alice. Our eyes met, and it was like a flash
-of light. I understood in that instant that she had been my
-ministering angel during my sickness. A look of pity and love was in
-her eyes as I turned to her, and she glided to my side and took my
-hand in hers.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Alice darling!&quot; I whispered. My voice was tremulous as a blade of
-grass in the summer air.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dear Basil!&quot; she said in reply.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">No heavenly happiness can be greater than that which entered my
-grateful heart at that moment. All sense of sight and touch and
-hearing--all heart and soul and mind--were merged in the exquisite
-belief that inwrapped me then--in the faith that constituted itself a
-part of me, inseparable, indissoluble, that is mine through all
-time--that she and I were one for ever and ever!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She sat with me until my landlady warned her that it was time to go.
-When she was gone, I learned that not a day had passed since my
-sickness that she had not come to see me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Alone?&quot; I asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, alone,&quot; my landlady said, adding that she had not spoken to any
-one of the young lady's visits, as they might have been misconstrued.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The significant tone in which she said this caused me to reflect that
-Alice's visits, if discovered, would expose her to the world's
-censure, and I begged my landlady to preserve silence upon the
-subject.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I will not linger upon this part of my story. Alice's visits were
-discovered; and one day, when I was nearly well, and when I was
-sitting by the window waiting for her beloved presence, I received a
-visit from her aunt.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I saw the unpleasant news in her face directly she entered the room.
-She commenced by saying she was glad to see I was nearly well, and
-that she trusted I would not take advantage of a young girl's
-indiscretion.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It was by the merest accident I discovered that my niece has been in
-the habit of coming to see you every day,&quot; said the old lady; &quot;and she
-has been very rash and indiscreet; you must see that, I'm sure.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I did not see it, and I told her so.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nonsense!&quot; exclaimed the old lady; &quot;you are a man, and you know the
-ways of the world and its judgment. As a man of honor, you must not
-encourage my niece in her folly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is it a folly to love?&quot; I asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But the old lady would not listen to argument, and she demanded my
-promise that I would not see my darling again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Firmly I refused to give it, unless Alice asked me to do so. We were
-pledged to each other, I said, and it was out of my power to break the
-engagement, unless; Alice wished it broken.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The old lady was terrified by my firmness; and when she asked me what
-I meant to do, and I told her that I meant to marry her niece, she
-exclaimed aghast,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Marry her! and you an actor!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; and I an actor,&quot; I answered proudly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She kept with me for more than an hour, begging and entreating; but
-she could not move me. I was contending for what was dearer to me than
-life, and an old woman's worldly arguments could not make me false to
-myself and to my love. She tempted me too--offered me money to leave
-the town. After that, I was silent; I would speak to her no more upon
-the subject. When she had exhausted herself, and rose to go, I opened
-the door for her; and before she went out, I thanked her for her
-hospitality to me, and expressed my regret that I should have been the
-means of causing her pain. She made no reply; but I fancied I saw a
-pitying expression on her face as she passed out.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I was overwhelmed by despair, and might have been guilty of I don't
-know what extravagance, had not my darling foreseen my misery, and
-provided against it. Within an hour of the departure of Alice's aunt,
-a note was given to me by my landlady. It was from my darling herself.
-She knew her aunt's errand; she knew that I was true to her; and she
-told me not to lose heart, for she was mine, and mine only, and would
-be true to me till death. Truly, those words were like oil upon the
-troubled waters; my mind was instantly composed, and a deep peace and
-joy fell upon me. The last words of her little note were to the effect
-that she would find means to write to me again soon; and she begged me
-not to go away until she saw me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So I waited, and grew strong; and time passed, until there came an
-evening when we met--met never to part again. It was a solemn meeting;
-there was no hesitation on one side, or entreaty on the other. We
-walked up and down in the rear of a wood-side inn; and my landlady,
-whom I had asked to accompany me, stood a little distance from us. My
-darling told me that her family were about to take her to the
-Continent, and that she saw no way of resisting. &quot;There is one,&quot; I
-said. And as I said this, I stood by the side of an old elm, and she
-stood with drooping head before me. &quot;There is one. We are pledged to
-each other till death. If I parted from you now in the belief that we
-should not meet again, I would pray to God to end my life here where I
-stand.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Tell me what I shall do,&quot; she answered, &quot;and I will do it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Follow me,&quot; I said. &quot;Share my life, hard though it may be. Be mine,
-as I am yours. Let us walk together till death, and after it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She placed her hand in mine, and answered me in the words of Ruth, and
-I folded her to my breast, and kissed her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So, accompanied by my landlady, we turned our backs to the town where
-we first met, and the next day we were married.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ali, how happy we were, and how our lives seemed spread before us like
-a bright holiday, which was to be spent in a land where the air was
-always sweet--where the flowers were always blooming! No thought of
-winter; but it came, with its frost and snow, and racked me with a
-renewal of the old pains. I could have borne them cheerfully, if they
-had not sometimes prevented me from working. We fell into poverty; and
-through all its bitterness she never complained, and never gave me one
-word of reproach. Nay, often and often, when she saw that my
-sufferings were increased by the thought that I had asked her to share
-my poor life, she comforted me and cheered me with tender speech, that
-fell like balm upon my soul. I struggled on in my profession, gaining
-applause always, but never seeming to mount a step nearer to the goal
-where fame and fortune stood beckoning me. My wife had written to her
-family without my knowledge; but not one of them replied except her
-good aunt, who sent her a small sum of money. When Minnie was born she
-wrote again, but the old lady was dead. Still, somehow we managed: our
-wants were small, and our happiness was perfect. We had to travel
-about a great deal; and when we had not sufficient money to pay our
-coach-fares, we walked, and made the way light for each other by
-cheering words. Many scores of miles have I--the great tragedian, as
-they called me in the bills--carried our little Minnie in my arms,
-lulling her to sleep, or pointing out to her the beauties of nature,
-as they peeped at us out of hedgerows, or as they sprang up in the
-gardens of great mansions, where they were not hidden by grim walls,
-as if their owners were jealous lest the poor toilers on the road
-should enjoy their lovely forms and colors. Now and then we got a lift
-on a wagon, and the music of the bells on the horses' necks often
-lulled Minnie to sleep. We seldom staid in one place longer than a
-fortnight; but once we stopped in a town for nearly four months,
-playing three nights a week. That was a happy time. I used to come
-home from the theatre when my work was done, and Alice and I would sit
-in our humble lodgings until late in the night, talking of such
-matters as were nearest to our hearts; painting the future in bright
-colors, and weaving fancies about our Minnie, who would sometimes be
-lying awake on her mother's lap, and whose little fingers would clasp
-one of mine as the ivy clasps the oak. We made many friends--false
-friends most of them, attracted by my wife's beauty--friends whose
-speech was fair, but whose thoughts were treacherous. But rocks on
-which many a woman's good name and happiness have been wrecked melted
-like snow before my wife's purity. And still we struggled on, hoping
-against hope, until there came a time which cast a shadow on me never
-to be removed except by death. It was in the autumn of the year. My
-wife had been ill, and I had to nurse her and carry her about, and
-study and work, while my heart was almost breaking; for the doctors
-had told me she required wine and nourishing food, and I was earning
-barely sufficient to pay for the commonest necessaries. One night when
-I left the theatre, the rain was pouring down like a second deluge. I
-had been playing the principal parts in tragedy and comedy, and I came
-into the street hot and flushed with my exertions. It was the last
-night I ever played. The rain soaked me to the skin; but I took no
-heed of that; I was too anxious to reach home. I crept into our one
-room, and found my wife asleep. I sat by her side and looked at her
-pale face, and recalled the past. I saw her as she had been five years
-before, a bright and beautiful girl; and as she was now, pale and wan
-as a ghost. I heard her whisper, &quot;Until death, Basil--until death!&quot; I
-threw myself on my knees by the bedside, and hid my face on the bed in
-utter prostration; and while I knelt, my body turned cold as ice, then
-hot as fire, and a feeling like the feeling of death came upon me.
-&quot;<i>Is</i> it death?&quot; I asked myself; and I almost rejoiced at the thought
-that we might pass away together. When I raised my head, the room
-seemed to be thronged with visible fancies. The light and brilliancy
-of the theatre; the dark night with its down-pour of rain; Alice as
-she was when I first met her; my father's study, and he and I looking
-defiantly at each other; all these pictures, and many others, were
-before me, and for a moment seemed to be in harmony with each other.
-Unutterable confusion among them followed; and then a darkness fell
-upon me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Weeks passed before the darkness cleared away. When I recovered my
-senses, I found my patient angel nursing me, although she was scarcely
-stronger than I was. But what will not a woman's love accomplish? We
-were not in the same town in which I had fallen sick. She had removed
-me to a village some twenty miles distant from my native place. I did
-not discover this until I was able to rise and move about. I was but a
-shadow of myself; all my strength had left me, and I was like a child.
-I was to discover something worse than that. I was to discover that my
-memory was gone, and that, although I could repeat snatches of parts I
-had played, I could not, study as hard as I would--and I tried
-diligently during my convalescence--get the complete parts into my
-head. My wife helped me--looked at the book while I stumbled
-on--prompted me, encouraged me, bade me rest for a day and try again.
-All in vain. If I was rehearsing the scenes in &quot;Hamlet,&quot; speeches and
-lines uttered by Macbeth and Lear, interpolated themselves, and I grew
-hopelessly confused.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So, then--my occupation was gone; my ambition was at an end. The
-knowledge would have been bitter enough to bear had I been by myself;
-but there were my wife and daughter, my darling Minnie, my patient
-suffering Alice, to provide for, and I in debt, without a penny in the
-world, and without any means of driving white-faced hunger from my
-dear ones. The despairing conviction almost brought on a relapse, and
-it was only by the strongest effort of will that I kept my senses. But
-I could not get strong; rheumatism had fastened itself too firmly in
-my bones, and would not be driven away; and I was afflicted with
-distressful shudderings and with feverish attacks, during which I knew
-no one about me. Winter was coming on fast. Every atom of clothing
-that could be spared had been sold by my wife; what she must have
-suffered, dear angel! can never be told. Was it my selfishness or
-blindness that prevented me from seeing death written in her face? I
-did not see it--I did not suspect it--until the time when her cold
-body lay before me. She suffered--yes; she could not disguise that
-from me; but the pleasant smile and the cheerful look of content and
-hope with which she always answered my wistful gaze, blinded me to her
-condition and to the extent of her sufferings. I did not ask her why
-she had brought me to the village--I guessed that it was because I had
-known it in my happier days, and because it might induce me to think
-of my father, and of the advisability of asking help from him. She did
-not say a word upon the subject. She knew the story of my boyish life,
-and was content that I should do as I thought best. But she was a
-mother as well as a wife, and she deemed it to be her duty to bring me
-where, if I so pleased, I might possibly obtain assistance. I thought
-over it, and, bitter as it was, I saw that my duty lay clear before
-me. I would sacrifice my pride and humble myself to my father. And yet
-I hesitated--hesitated until one morning my wife came into the room
-looking so strange that I passed my hand before my eyes, wondering if
-I were awake.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Alice!&quot; I cried.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She came to my side with a cheerful look. Her beautiful hair, that had
-hung down to her waist was gone. I took her upon my knee, and folded
-her in my arms, and sobbed like a little child. She soothed and
-comforted me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It will grow again,&quot; she said, knowing but too well that before that
-time came she would be beneath the daisies. &quot;The landlady wanted
-money, and every thing was sold but that. See, I can pay her.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All?&quot; I asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, not all,&quot; she said cheerfully; &quot;but perhaps some good fortune
-will come to us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That morning I wrote to my father. I told him that I was married to a
-gentlewoman, noble, good, and pure, that we had a child, and that I
-was ill and in want. But no answer came. I wrote again, begging him to
-reply and to assist us. Still no answer. And meanwhile my wife was
-fading before my eyes, and our landlady clamored for what was due to
-her. Oh, if I could have sold my blood for money, I would have done
-it, when I heard her coarse tongue revile my wife! I tottered into the
-passage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Woman!&quot; I cried, &quot;you shall be paid. I will go and get money.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where?&quot; asked my wife in a faint voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;At my father's,&quot; I answered. &quot;Come, we will go and lay our sorrows at
-his feet.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I took Minnie in my arms, and we started in the direction of my native
-town. It was not until we had walked four or five miles that we
-discovered how weak we were. We were penniless and hungry, and Minnie
-was crying for food. I went into a public-house, and begged for some.
-I was turned out without ceremony; but a common woman, who was
-drinking with a tinker, ran after me--God bless her for it!--and put a
-biscuit into Minnie's hand. We struggled on. A mile nearer. My wife
-grew white in the face, and her lips were black. And as I looked at
-her, there came by her side the image of what she was, ruddy,
-bright-eyed, rosy-lipped. I saw it, I tell you. The impalpable shape
-of the beautiful girl, radiant with health, walked with light step by
-the side of the careworn haggard-faced woman. I must have been crazed.
-She saw in my face the disturbed condition of my mind.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Courage!&quot; she whispered, taking my arm.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I laughed, and looked around. Fortunately, no one was near us, or I
-should have robbed him--weak as I was, despair would have given me
-strength. I have asked myself since, if it would have been a crime,
-and have not found the answer. Ten miles were compassed when a storm
-came on--a dreadful pitiless storm, in which the slanting wall of rain
-before us seemed to shut out hope. We toiled through it, fainting from
-weariness and hunger; we toiled through it, until I fell prone to the
-earth. My wife knelt by me in the wet grass, and implored me to make
-another effort for her sake, for our child's. I tried to rise, but
-could not. All that I could do was to drag myself to a clump of trees,
-where I lay exhausted. Every word that passed between us from that
-time is too deeply engraven on my mind ever to be forgotten.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Wife,&quot; I said, &quot;the struggle is over. Kiss me and forgive me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In the midst of her agony, a sweet smile irradiated her face. I could
-not see it, but I knew it was there by her voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Forgive you, husband!&quot; she exclaimed, as she kissed me. &quot;We have
-nothing to forgive each other. Pity and love are all that I feel now.
-Love for you and our darling Minnie,&quot;--and she placed our little
-darling's hand on my aching eyes--&quot;and pity for your great
-sufferings.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Not a word of herself! Her pure unselfish nature was triumphant over
-all. As surely as we have hands to feel and eyes to see such love as
-hers is heaven-born, and dies not with the flesh!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Rest here,&quot; she said, placing our child in my arms. &quot;I will go and
-seek help. Keep up your heart while I am gone.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I had no power to stop her, and she left me and was lost in the gloom.
-Hours must have passed, though it was night when I awoke. I had fallen
-into sleep, and in my dreams all the circumstances of my life played
-their miserable parts; from the dawn of my ambition down to the words
-of my wife, &quot;I will go and seek help. Keep up your heart while I am
-gone.&quot; When those words were uttered, I followed my wife, in my dream,
-as she stumbled on through the darkness. Suddenly I lost her; then a
-whisper of pain stole upon me, and I heard her murmur, &quot;Come to me,
-Basil; I am dying.&quot; A strength born of fear enabled me to rise
-shuddering to my feet. &quot;Alice!&quot; I cried. No voice answered me, but I
-still seemed to hear the echo of the words, &quot;Come to me, Basil; I am
-dying.&quot; With Minnie in my arms, I followed the sound. Some wonderful
-chance directed my steps aright. How far I walked, I do not know. The
-rain was still falling, but there was a glimmering light in the sky to
-guide me. The trees, past which I crept painfully and wearily, were
-bare of leaves; their naked branches were emblematical of the
-desolation of my heart. I crept onward until I came to a spot where I
-saw a form lying on the ground. No need to tell me whose form it was
-that I saw before me. No sound came from the lips, no sign of life was
-observable in the limbs. The ghostly echo of the cry, &quot;Come to me,
-Basil; I am dying!&quot; died away upon the wind as I fell by the side of
-my darling, who had sacrificed her life for me. I raised her head on
-my lap, and looked into her white face. The eyelids quivered, opened;
-a look of joy leaped into her eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, my darling, my darling!&quot; I wailed; &quot;wait for me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I inclined my head to her lips, for they were moving.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will wait for you, Basil. There!&quot; And she looked up to heaven,
-while the cruel rain poured down upon her face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I placed Minnie's lips to hers, and the child clasped her little arms
-round her mother's neck.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Live, Basil,&quot; she said slowly and painfully, &quot;live for her. No, no!&quot;
-fearing that I was going from her, &quot;do not leave me yet!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Her fingers tightened on mine, and she closed her eyes. I leaned over
-her to protect her from the rain. In that supreme moment of sacrifice
-a smile rested on her lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Till death, and after it, Basil, my love!&quot; she whispered.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And her soul passed away into the wintry night.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are crying,&quot; said Basil Kindred, after a long pause. &quot;My story
-has touched your heart. I have told it to you for the purpose of
-opening your eyes to Minnie's nature. She is like her mother, without
-her mother's teaching. She is a wildflower; the impulse of her mind is
-under the control of the impulse of her heart. She is oblivious of all
-else, defiant of all else. Those of her friends who have the
-consciousness of a higher wisdom than she possesses--those of them who
-can recognize that the promptings of such a heart as hers may possibly
-lead her into dangerous paths--must guide her gently, tenderly. If any
-betray her, he will have to answer for it at the Judgment-seat.
-Joshua, you said to me, when you entered this room, that you had not
-forgotten the blessing I gave you on the first day of our meeting. I
-repeat that blessing. In all your actions that deserve blessings and
-prosperity, I say, God bless and prosper you, Joshua Marvel! Now leave
-me.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua's face was wet with tears, and his heart was throbbing with
-sympathy for Basil as he walked down stairs. In the passage he heard a
-footfall that he knew to be Minnie's. It was too dark to see her face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is that you, Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Joshua,&quot; she answered, in a low voice. &quot;You have been sitting
-with father.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have been wishing to speak to you, and I was afraid I might not get
-the opportunity, for father is very strange to me. When does your ship
-sail, Joshua?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In a very few days Minnie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should so much like to see it, if there was no harm in my coming.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What harm can there be, Minnie?&quot; exclaimed Joshua. &quot;Come to-morrow to
-the docks at twelve o'clock when the men are at their dinner. Bring
-Ellen or Susan with you, and ask for the 'Merry Andrew,' and I will
-show you over it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, Joshua. Goodnight.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Goodnight, Minnie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As their hands met, Susan, carrying a light, came from the kitchen.
-Joshua did not wish Susan to see the tears on his face, and he turned
-hastily away as she approached. But she did not appear to notice
-either him or Minnie, as she passed to the upper part of the house;
-and the next moment Minnie glided away, and Joshua entered the room
-where Dan and Ellen were sitting.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The following day Joshua, looking over the bulwarks of the &quot;Merry
-Andrew,&quot; saw Minnie standing in bewilderment amidst the busy life and
-the confusion of bales and cases on the wharf. He was surprised to
-find that she was alone. He hastened to her side, and asked her why
-Ellen or Susan had not come with her, and received for reply that she
-had thought they were both too busy, and had not liked to ask them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But you don't mind my coming by myself, Joshua, do you?&quot; she said,
-looking into his face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; he said, returning her gaze. Her eyes were sparkling with youth
-and health, and her cheeks had a bright color in them from the brisk
-walk she had taken in the crisp air. &quot;But I would have preferred your
-not coming alone.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will go back rather than offend you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Offend me!&quot; he exclaimed. &quot;You are a stupid to talk of offending me.
-And as for going back, that would be sheer nonsense now you have taken
-the trouble to come.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was impossible to look at her without pleasure; she was as
-beautiful as the spring. A good many of the sailors turned to take
-another peep at her, and thought what a lucky fellow the third mate of
-the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; was to have such a lass as that to come and see
-him. But he was in luck's way right round, they said to each other as
-they walked along. Joshua, not wishing to submit Minnie to their
-prying looks--although, being human, he was proud of them a little
-bit, it must be confessed--took her hand to lead her up the gangway.
-It was not easy for Minnie to get aboard, and Joshua had almost to
-carry her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How strong you are,&quot; she said, &quot;to be able to carry a big girl like
-me! And this is your ship.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is lumbered up at present, Minnie,&quot; he said; &quot;but when we are at
-sea, and the decks are cleared, and the sails are set, and we are
-flying along before a fair wind, it is a little better than this, I
-can tell you. I can smell the sweet spray now, as it comes dashing
-up.&quot; His nostrils dilated at the mere thought of the ocean, and
-involuntarily he passed his hand before his eyes, clearing away
-imaginary spray.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How beautiful it must be!&quot; exclaimed Minnie.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua abated a little of his enthusiasm. &quot;It's all very well in fine
-weather, when the wind and sea are kind; but you would be frightened
-at storms.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not if you were on the ship, Joshua,&quot; she said dreamingly, but in so
-soft and low a voice that he did not catch the words; yet he looked at
-her keenly; but she did not notice his gaze, for she was wrapped in
-thought, and her eyes were turned from him. So still did she stand,
-that Joshua touched her sleeve to attract her attention. She started,
-as if he had aroused her from sleep, and then they went over the ship
-together. She was very anxious to see every thing, and they had a busy
-half-hour. The last part of the ship they went into was the saloon.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Captain Liddle has been very particular about the saloon,&quot; Joshua
-said, &quot;for his wife is coming with us this voyage. Here are their
-cabins--one for the captain and his wife, and this little one
-adjoining for her maid.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie peeped into the cabins, and wondered how ladies could live in
-such a dark place. Joshua had to explain that the cabins were dark
-because the ship was in dock, and that when they got out at sea there
-was light enough for any thing. Then they ascended to the deck again,
-and Minnie thanked Joshua and prepared to go. Just at that moment
-Joshua saw--or fancied he saw--Susan standing on the wharf. She was
-standing quite still, and her eyes were fixed on the poop of the
-&quot;Merry Andrew.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why, there's Susan!&quot; he exclaimed; and, leaving Minnie on deck, he
-hurried down the gangway. But the woman was gone, and he could find no
-trace of her. He returned to Minnie in a state of perplexity.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I thought I saw Susan on the wharf,&quot; he said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You must have been mistaken, Joshua,&quot; said Minnie; &quot;she was hard at
-work at home when I left. If it had been Susan, she would not have
-gone away when you went towards her.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I suppose I <i>must</i> have been mistaken. Good-morning, Minnie; take
-care of yourself going home.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He led her down the gangway, and Minnie made her way, like a gleam of
-sunshine among the throng of rough workingmen, who stood aside to let
-her pass, and sent admiring looks after her. During his work that
-afternoon Joshua thought much of her, and of her father's anxiety
-concerning her. &quot;Mr. Kindred is right,&quot; he thought. &quot;Minnie requires
-gentle tender guidance; such guidance as Dan can give her, and will
-have the right to do soon, I hope. She can have no better teacher,
-wiser counsellor, than Dan!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So he mused and worked, and saw no signs of the dark clouds that were
-gathering about him.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXII.</h4>
-
-<h5>NEVER TO RETURN.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Could a map be made of the mental life of a man whose career
-has been
-marked by the commonest of commonplace incidents, and from that map a
-tale were woven, it would transcend in interest the most eventful
-story that can be found in the wonder-world of fiction. Space matter,
-and all the abstract relations of the Great System, affect the meanest
-order of mind, and produce the strangest of contrasts between the
-outer and inner life of men. Not more strange perhaps, but certainly
-more beautiful, are the contrasts presented in men of a high order of
-intelligence. As in the case of Dan. Quiet as were the grooves in
-which his material life moved, compassed as it was by a few narrow
-streets, his ideal life was a romance. It glowed with poetic beauty,
-and was filled with graceful images, like a peaceful lake in whose
-waters are reflected the glories of grand sunsets and the delicate
-lines and colors of night clouds and overhanging trees. Had it been
-Dan's fate to mix with the world, his sensitive nature would have
-rendered him the most unhappy of beings. The selfishness with which
-the world abounds, and with which he would have been brought in
-contact, would have made his life a misery. Wishful to see good in
-every thing, he would have seen its reverse in so many things, that
-his enduring faith in the purity and goodness of those upon whom he
-fixed his affections might have been weakened. His friends were few,
-but all his heart was theirs, and no doubt of their truth found place
-in his mind. Not to suspect belonged to the nobility of his nature.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Otherwise, he might have found cause for suspicion in what was
-occurring around him. Three days before Joshua's final departure from
-home, Basil Kindred locked himself in his room, and denied himself and
-Minnie to every person but Susan. She, and she only, attended to his
-wants, and faithfully obeyed his wishes. To all inquiries the one
-answer received, through Susan's lips, was, that he was too ill to be
-seen, and that he required the constant attendance of his daughter,
-who could not leave his room. Even Mrs. Marvel could not shake his
-resolution, and was surprised to find that Susan encouraged him, and
-would not assist her in her kind endeavors.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is not good for Minnie,&quot; remonstrated Mrs. Marvel, &quot;to be
-cooped-up in that room all day. She can nurse her father--it is only
-right she should--but her health will suffer if she does not have
-fresh air.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Kindred knows what is best for himself and Minnie,&quot; returned
-Susan in a voice that trembled, despite her efforts to be firm. &quot;He
-has asked me to nurse him, and to keep everybody out of his room until
-he is better; and I mean to do it. If I can't do it here, I shall take
-him away where he won't be disturbed.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Let me go up and see him,&quot; persisted Mrs. Marvel. &quot;I may be able to
-do him some good.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You can't do him a bit of good,&quot; replied Susan uncompromisingly, &quot;and
-he won't let anybody but me go into his room.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sick people don't always know what is best for them, my dear. We are
-all of us very much distressed and anxious about Minnie and her
-father. They are more than friends to us, and perhaps you do not guess
-what Minnie is to&quot;--But Mrs. Marvel was stopped in her speech by a
-fierce exclamation from Susan. The good mother was not sorry for the
-interruption; she had been about to refer to Dan's love for Minnie,
-which her delicate and keen instinct had discovered, and the thought
-came to her that perhaps it would not be wise to speak of it. She was
-not the less surprised at Susan's agitation, and at the frightened
-look which immediately afterwards flashed into Susan's eyes--a look
-which asked, &quot;What have I said? Have I betrayed my trust?&quot; But the
-next moment Susan resumed her determined manner, and no entreaties of
-Mrs. Marvel could move her. When Mrs. Marvel told her husband of the
-interview, he said he was sure that Basil Kindred was not right in
-his head, and that the best thing to do would be to let the sick man
-have his own way. As for Susan, Mr. Marvel said, she was always
-strange--they were a pair, she and Basil Kindred.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So no further attempt was made by any of them to see Basil Kindred and
-Minnie until the day when Joshua was going to sea. On that day Joshua
-went to Basil's room, and knocked. Susan came out of the room into the
-passage, and stood with her back to the door.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have come to say good-by,&quot; said Joshua; &quot;and I should like much to
-speak to Minnie and Mr. Kindred before I leave. Go in Susey, and ask
-him to see me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan returned the usual answer, but Joshua's entreaties caused her to
-waver. She re-entered the room, and Joshua heard Basil's voice
-speaking to her. Then Susan came out again, and said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Kindred is too ill to see you--he told me to say so.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie!&quot; echoed Susan; and then in a low troubled voice, &quot;Minnie is
-asleep.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua was inexpressibly pained.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I must be content, I suppose,&quot; he said, sighing; &quot;but I am deeply
-grieved. Something seems to have come between us lately, and shall go
-away leaving a mystery behind. I wonder sometimes if am the cause of
-this estrangement. If I am, I hope all will be set right when I am out
-of the way.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I hope so,&quot; said Susan, with a singularly earnest look.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You hope so! Then I am the cause, and you believe it. Take care,
-Susan that you are not assisting in bringing unhappiness among us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is for you to take care,&quot; said Susan, with bitter emphasis, &quot;that
-you do not do so.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What do you mean?&quot; asked Joshua, in amazement. &quot;Tell me. I have a
-right to ask, Susan, for you will one day be my sister.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua had taken her hand as he spoke, but she snatched it from him
-angrily.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can tell you nothing that you do not know,&quot; she said hurriedly. &quot;If
-I am to be your sister, I have only one thing to say to you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well?&quot; he inquired, in an offended tone, for he was angered by
-Susan's manner.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Be true to Ellen,&quot; she said, with quivering lips and in a softer
-voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is that your fear?&quot; he exclaimed almost gayly. &quot;Be true to Ellen!
-Why, Susey, I love her with all my heart and soul. But there! words go
-for nothing. Time will show. Bid Minnie and Mr. Kindred good-by for
-me, and say I was sorry I could not see them before I went away.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He put out his hand, and mechanically she took it in hers; but she
-unloosed it immediately with a shudder, and left him abruptly. He was
-compelled to be content with that good-by, unsatisfactory as it was,
-and he walked to his home, where Dan had been staying for the last few
-days, eating there, and sleeping, in Joshua's room. Sitting in their
-bedroom alone on those last few nights, when all but themselves in the
-house were sleeping the friends renewed their vows of faithful love,
-and spoke of many things in the future which both of them desired. In
-one of these conversations Joshua put into Dan's hands a written
-paper, which made Dan and Joshua's father masters of his small savings
-and of wages that would be due to him from the London owners of the
-&quot;Merry Andrew.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In case any thing happens to me,&quot; said Joshua, in explanation.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not for any other reason, Jo,&quot; said Dan, &quot;for I shall never want the
-money.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Father may want a little. It is all his and yours. As to your never
-wanting money, I wish I could feel sure of it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You may, Jo; I am earning quite enough with my birds. Mr. Fewster
-gave me an order yesterday for four canaries thoroughly trained to do
-all the best and newest tricks.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua uttered a dissatisfied &quot;Hm!&quot; at the mention of Mr. Fewster's
-name. Dan understood it, for Joshua had contracted what Dan said was
-an unreasonable dislike for Solomon Fewster. Now, in reply to a
-remonstrance from Dan, Joshua said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But you don't like him, Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know that,&quot; said Dan, considering. &quot;When you put it to me so
-plainly, I am rather inclined to say I do like him; for I cannot give
-a reason for not doing so. I <i>can</i> give a reason for liking him; he
-buys my birds&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And sells them at a profit, I'll be bound.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps; he has a right to do so, if he pleases. I did think at first
-that he bought them for himself, but of course I was mistaken.
-However, whatever he does with them, he buys them and pays for them:
-that's enough for me. You could give as good a reason for liking him.
-He was kind to you when you were ill.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, yes! brought me jellies and things&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you ate them and relished them,&quot; said Dan, laughing.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I didn't know that he had brought them, or I wouldn't have touched
-them. I remember in one of our coasting-trips we had a passenger on
-board who wrote for newspapers, and who was said to be a very clever
-man. Certainly he talked like one. He used to talk to me, as much
-perhaps because I was a good listener, as for any other reason. Well,
-a favorite subject with him was what he called magnetic sympathy. He
-would just have suited you, Dan! He said that the natural magnetism
-which makes persons like or dislike one another, without apparent
-reason, is never wrongly directed.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A kind of instinct,&quot; remarked Dan reflectively.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He said, too, that as there are certain things in chemicals that
-won't mix, being opposed in their natures, so there are persons who
-have natural antipathies&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And won't mix--like you and Mr. Fewster,&quot; interpolated Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Just so. Besides that, I have a good many little reasons for not
-liking Mr. Fewster.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Firstly,&quot; prompted Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He never looks me in the face.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Secondly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He has a horribly smooth voice.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thirdly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He has flat feet--ugly flat feet. I shall always hate men with flat
-feet. Then every thing about him shifts and shuffles. But don't let us
-talk about him any more. I can't keep my temper when he is in my
-thoughts.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The conversation drifted into other subjects, and Solomon Fewster was
-dismissed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was Dan's whim to have all his birds on a table for Joshua's
-inspection on the morning of his friend's departure.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Although we are men now, Jo,&quot; he said, &quot;I should wish us to keep our
-boyish fancies fresh and green always in our hearts. There is plenty
-of room for them, notwithstanding that life is a more serious thing to
-us than it was.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There they were, the modest linnets, the saucy tomtits, the defiant
-blackbirds, the handsome canaries. Among the latter were four which
-Dan pronounced to be &quot;real beauties;&quot; they were of a beautiful orange
-color, and the feathers in their tails and wings were of a deep black.
-These were the canaries which Dan had spoken of as having been
-&quot;ordered&quot; for Solomon Fewster. As they were admiring them, Solomon
-Fewster's step was heard in the passage, and the man himself entered
-to wish Joshua good-by. He was profuse in his good wishes, to which
-Joshua listened in silence, uttering no word but &quot;good-by&quot; as Fewster
-quitted the room. It so happened that, during the pauses in his
-expressions of good will to Joshua, Solomon Fewster looked at the
-canaries which Dan had purchased for him, and handled them with words
-of approval. When he was gone, Joshua who had thrown his handkerchief
-carelessly upon the table, said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That man hates me, Dan, more than I hate him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Jo,&quot; said Dan, &quot;how can you be so fanciful?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Forewarned is fore-armed, Dan. I beg of you not to trust him; I beg
-of you not to believe he is any thing but a cruel false man. He wishes
-me ill--else why do I instinctively shrink from the touch of his hand?
-He wishes me ill--else why is this?&quot; Joshua removed his handkerchief,
-and Dan saw one of his beautiful canaries dead upon the table. &quot;As he
-talked to me with his smooth tongue,&quot; continued Joshua, &quot;wishing me
-well in his hateful voice, he crushed the life out of this poor bird.
-Is that no sign of a false bad heart? Had his thoughts been as gentle
-as his words, would this have happened?&quot; Dan was silent; he could not
-defend Solomon Fewster by another word. &quot;Let us say good-by here, dear
-Dan. Mother and father are waiting for me, and many of the neighbors
-also, to give me God-speed in a better fashion and with kinder hearts
-than that cruel man. Good-by, dearest friend. God send you all that
-your heart desires!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you, dear friend. You know the one thing I desire to render me
-perfectly happy--Minnie's love. Say, 'God speed you in that venture!'
-Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;God speed you! Dan, it comes upon me now to ask you one question. You
-do not doubt me, do you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Doubt you, Jo! No, nor never can.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The answer is from your heart. I should not have asked but that some
-things have distressed me lately, and I should indeed be unhappy if I
-thought you had the shadow of a doubt of me. It may be that our voyage
-will not be prosperous; it may be that I may never live to return. If
-I do not--nay, Dan, I am impelled to speak thus--if I do not, believe
-me to have been always the same to you. Believe that I never wavered
-in my love or my truth, and that to the last I held you in my heart,
-as I hold you now, gentlest, dearest, best of friends.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan drew Joshua's face to his and kissed it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We are one, Jo,&quot; he said softly; &quot;nothing can divide our hearts. God
-bless and protect you, and bring you safely back.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The leave-taking between Joshua and his parents was of a very
-different nature from the last, when he was leaving home for the first
-time in his life. Then Mr. and Mrs. Marvel were beset with doubts as
-to whether the step Joshua was about to take was for the best. Now,
-these doubts were dissolved. He had gone on his venture a bright happy
-boy, and had returned a bright happy man. He had started on the lowest
-round of the ladder, and had already mounted many steps. Third mate
-already! What might he not attain to? They were proud of him, and with
-just cause. All the neighbors were proud of him, too; he was a prince
-among them. The family were quite a distinguished family in the
-neighborhood, as having for their representative a young man who had
-been all over the world--a man who had not only seen the sea, but who
-had been on it. A little crowd of neighbors had gathered about the
-house to give Joshua a parting handshake. The information of their
-having gathered for that purpose was imparted to Joshua by his father
-with an air of pride.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I've lived in this neighborhood for nearly fifty years, Josh,&quot; said
-George Marvel, &quot;and I've never but once seen so many of the neighbors
-on the lookout at one time.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;When was that, father?&quot; asked Joshua, humoring his father's vanity.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That was when a carriage with two white horses came through the
-street, and stopped in it for full five minutes. It was the first
-carriage that ever was seen here, and the last, for that matter. You
-remember, mother!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, George.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I wish you could have stopped with us until the last minute, Josh,&quot;
-continued George Marvel; &quot;but Mr. Meddler was so mightily anxious that
-you should spend tonight and to-morrow with him at Gravesend, that he
-couldn't well be refused, being so good a friend. Do you think your
-ship will sail to-morrow?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To-morrow or next day, daddy.&quot; And Joshua put his arm round his
-mother's neck, and she looked up at her big son with affectionate
-pride.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In three or four months you'll be among the savages again,&quot; observed
-George Marvel contemplatively and admiringly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I shall see plenty of them, I dare say, father. They come down to
-Sydney from what the people call the interior.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And they are black all over, eh, Josh?&quot; asked George Marvel, who was
-never tired of a repetition of Joshua's adventures.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A kind of brown-black rather,&quot; answered Joshua, &quot;with eyes like
-pieces of lighted coal.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And not a bit of clothing?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;An old blanket, some of them; nothing at all, a good many. A sailor
-gave one a pair of trousers, and the fellow tied them round his neck
-by the legs.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;D'ye see what strange things there are in the world, mother, that we
-never knew of?&quot; observed George Marvel to his wife. &quot;That comes of
-being a wood-turner all one's life.--Josh, if you have children, don't
-make wood-turners of 'em.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I won't, father,&quot; said Joshua, laughing; &quot;but I'm not certain either
-that I'd make sailors of them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There, father!&quot; Mrs. Marvel could not help saying triumphantly, &quot;what
-do you say to that? Joshua is coming round to my old way of thinking.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, one would think,&quot; said George Marvel, appealing to an invisible
-audience, &quot;that Joshua's done a bad thing by being a sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, no,&quot; said Joshua; &quot;I've nothing to grumble at; I've been very
-lucky, and I'm thankful for it. But it is a hard life for a common
-sailor. He's bullied here and buffeted there, and is obliged to be up
-at all times of the night and day sometimes, and he gets soaked and
-soaked until he hasn't a dry thing to put on. Then, when he's
-dead-beat and turns in, he hasn't been asleep an hour perhaps when all
-the watches are called on deck, and there he is again, half dead with
-sleep, wondering whether he is dreaming or not, till he is woke up
-with a vengeance by the water trickling down his back, and the wind
-blowing as if it would blow his eyes clean out of his head.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mrs. Marvel shivered with apprehension at Joshua's description; and he
-with ready tact continued,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But that's not often; and even when an inexperienced man would
-suppose there was great danger, there really is none at all. For the
-most part, it is fair and beautiful; and when you are bowling along
-under a steady breeze, with all sails set, surrounded by a bright
-cloud and bright water, there isn't a more glorious life in the world.
-If you were to see the ship, mother dear, on a calm day, with the
-sails like birds' white wings, with a deck as clean as this kitchen
-and the sailors sitting about mending sails and splicing ropes, while
-the grand albatrosses are flying over us, and shoals of beautiful fish
-are leaping like deer in the sea--if you were to see it then, you
-would almost wish you had been a man, so that you might be a sailor.
-And through all 'there's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft, to
-keep watch for the life of poor Jack.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed, my dear,&quot; exclaimed Mrs. Marvel, satisfied with the sentiment
-of the quotation, though its meaning was not quite clear to her; &quot;I'm
-glad to hear that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dear old mother!&quot; said Joshua, in secret delight at her simplicity,
-kissing her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But the best of it all is,&quot; said George Marvel, &quot;it makes a man of
-you; your muscle's like a bit of iron. Feel mine, Josh--like a bit of
-soft putty. That comes of being a wood-turner.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ellen and Mr. Meddler went down to Gravesend two hours ago,&quot;
-said Mrs. Marvel to Joshua, who was tying his accordion in his
-pocket-handkerchief.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua nodded. Brave as he had intended to be, spasms were rising in
-his throat.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have all your things, dear?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, every thing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He turned to take a last look at the homely kitchen, noting in that
-momentary glance the position of every piece of furniture and of the
-crockery on the dresser. The yellow-haired cat was too old now to do
-any thing but lie on the hearth before the fire; and Joshua stooped
-and patted its head. When he rose and put his hand on the back of a
-chair, it seemed to him as if that common piece of wood and every
-other inanimate thing in the room were familiar friends. The very
-shape of the room was dear to him. The dear old kitchen! how many
-happy hours had he passed in it! He could have knelt and kissed the
-floor, his heart was so tender. As it was, he touched the table and
-the mantle-shelf; over which the bright saucepan-lids were hanging,
-lovingly with his fingers, and with dim eyes walked slowly away. His
-arm was round his mother's waist as they went up stairs to the
-street-door, and he put his face to her neck and kissed it--a favorite
-trick of his when he was a child. It brought to her suddenly the fancy
-that her son was a baby-boy still; and she caressed his curly head as
-a young mother might have done. Mr. Marvel of course was too manly to
-give way to such weakness; but nevertheless he clasped Joshua's hand
-with a clinging fondness, and the tune he was humming in proof of his
-manliness came rather huskily from his throat. It was a triumphant
-moment for him when he opened the street-door, and stood on the step
-with his wife and Joshua; for there in the street were many of his
-neighbors, who pushed forward to shake Joshua's hand, and to wish him
-God-speed; while some of the women slyly gave him &quot;a lucky touch.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;One word, dear mother,&quot; said Joshua, drawing mother and father into
-the passage, whereat all the neighbors fell away, and turned their
-backs to the door, there being nothing there really worth noticing.
-&quot;Take care of my darling Ellen for me. And Dan too; he may need it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They are our children, Joshua, next to you,&quot; said Mrs. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You think to yourself, when you are away, Josh,&quot; said Mr. Marvel,
-with his finger in a button-hole in Joshua's jacket. &quot;'There is Ellen,
-my wife that is to be; and there is Dan, my dearest friend; and there
-is father and mother with them every day, loving them almost as much
-as they love me and almost as proud of them.' You think that, Josh, and
-you'll think right.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am sure of it. Once more, good-by; God bless you all!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And so, with tender embraces, hearty neighborly farewells, and waving
-of hands, Joshua, with his accordion under his arm, bade farewell to
-his dear old humble home.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXIII.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE OLD SAILOR SETS MATTERS STRAIGHT.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Having made over the whole of his worldly property to Joshua
-and Ellen
-&quot;for better or worse,&quot; it was reasonable that Praiseworthy Meddler
-should have considerable weight in the family council of the Marvels.
-The arrangement whereby Joshua left his home a day before his ship was
-to sail was entirely of the Old Sailor's making; he and he alone was
-responsible for it. Naturally enough, when he had at first proposed
-it, he had met with opposition--especially from Mrs. Marvel, who
-wished Joshua to remain with them until the last moment. But, after a
-private conversation with the Old Sailor, she had yielded to his wish,
-and had even used arguments to induce Joshua's readier compliance.
-That being obtained, the Old Sailor informed them that he had a
-lady-friend at Gravesend, name Mrs. Eliza Friswell, who was a married
-woman herself with a family, and who kept a respectable boarding-house,
-with whom he had arranged that Ellen should stay until the anchor of the
-&quot;Merry Andrew&quot; was weighed; substantiating his statement by a letter
-from Mrs. Eliza Friswell to Mrs. Marvel, in which Mrs. Eliza--as the
-Old Sailor called her--undertook to look after Ellen as &quot;one of her
-own.&quot; On the morning of Joshua's departure from Stepney, the Old
-Sailor, dressed in his best, and decorated with a bunch of flowers in
-honor of Ellen, had called for his pretty lass and had taken her away,
-leaving a message that if Joshua did not arrive at Gravesend exactly
-at the appointed time, Ellen had consented to run away with him--to
-wit, Praiseworthy Meddler--and get married. Very proud was the Old
-Sailor of his charge, and very tender and confidential was the nature
-of his communications to her as they made their way to Gravesend. What
-it was that made her blush and laugh and cry in turns--what it was
-that made her serious one moment and glad the next--was known only to
-themselves. Certainly no one was taken into their confidence until
-they arrived at Mrs. Eliza's, when, with a fatherly kiss, he delivered
-Ellen into the charge of that estimable matron. Mrs. Eliza's husband
-was a boatman, rough and strong as a boatman should be: with a great
-red face and great red hands, and with a voice that rumbled from his
-great deep chest with such thunderous power as to render such a thing
-as a whisper physically impossible. He was the owner of a fleet of
-four boats, which had been bought and paid for in shrimps and
-watercresses, or, at all events, with the profits made by Mrs. Eliza
-out of those delicacies, which she purveyed to the easily-satisfied
-amorous British public, with stale bread-and-butter and an imitation
-of tea, at nine pence per head.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Praiseworthy Meddler was fraternizing with Mrs. Eliza's husband when
-Joshua made his appearance. Mrs. Eliza's husband immediately sheered
-off, and the Old Sailor took Joshua in tow. In response to the Old
-Sailor's remark that he was late, Joshua, who felt very despondent,
-said that parting from those at home took a longer time than he had
-expected.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, my lad,&quot; said the Old Sailor gravely, &quot;'tis a hard word, good-by,
-when said to those we love. A long time with Dan, I dare say now?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, sir; but it didn't seem long. Time flies faster at some times
-than others.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay; flies fastest when we most want it to hold out. Mother and father
-all right?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As right as may be, sir. Crying more now, I know by my own feelings,
-than when I was with them. Kept up for my sake, sir, to give me
-courage.&quot; And Joshua turned aside.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No need to be ashamed of your tears, my lad. Gentle thoughts and a
-gentle heart go together. Some people say 'tis unmanly to cry, but I
-wouldn't give much for the man who never cried, or who wasn't
-sometimes so near it as to feel a gulping in the throat. 'Tis as much
-crying, that is, as if the tears were rolling down his face. I've felt
-like it myself, I'm glad to say.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are very kind to me, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You deserve it, Josh, you deserve it, though I've a doubt that you're
-a bit blind to some things.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To what things, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Gently my lad, gently. Plenty of time to talk.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The gravity of the Old Sailor was contagious, and Joshua felt that the
-good old fellow was about to say something which he deemed of
-importance.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where is Ellen, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;In the house with Mrs. Eliza. She is happy and comfortable, my lad;
-and when you and me have had our bit of talk, we will go in to her.
-She knows that we're together, and that we've got something to speak
-about. As you turned the street, she put her pretty head out of window
-there--you didn't know the house or you'd have seen her do it, like a
-true sailor as you are--and when she saw us together, she put her
-pretty head in again, satisfied. And you left everybody at home all
-right, eh? Grieving naturally to be sure, but otherways all right?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Let us walk as we talk,&quot; said the Old Sailor, hooking his arm in
-Joshua's, and walking in the direction of the river. &quot;Or we shall talk
-better in a boat, perhaps; Mrs. Eliza's husband shall paddle us about
-the while.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But I should like to see Ellen just for one minute first.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To begin your kissing, eh, my lad?&quot; said the Old Sailor, with a
-roguish, laugh. &quot;No, no; you'll have plenty of time for that. I'm in
-command now, and I'll have no mutineering, or I'll put you in irons.
-You'll not like them as well as Ellen's pretty arms.&quot; Notwithstanding
-the light nature of the Old Sailor's word's, Joshua detected a
-serious mood beneath them, and with a good grace he walked to the
-landing-place and stepped into the boat which Mrs. Eliza's husband
-held ready.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So you were a long time with Dan, my lad,&quot; remarked the Old Sailor,
-when they were launched. &quot;What did you talk about mostly?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The old things, sir,--ourselves mostly?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have no secrets from Dan, my lad?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir, none.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And he has none from you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;None, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And yet I'll be bound,&quot; said the Old Sailor, looking steadily at
-Joshua, and compelling Joshua to return his gaze, &quot;that there was
-something which you might have spoken of had you not been restrained
-by a feeling, say, of kindness to Dan. What, now?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There was something, sir,&quot; replied Joshua, wondering what this
-conversation, so singularly commenced, would lead to.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah!&quot; ejaculated the Old Sailor, rubbing his knees in a satisfied
-manner; &quot;let us hear what that something was.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You speak so earnestly, sir,&quot; said Joshua, inwardly questioning
-himself, &quot;that I must be careful not to conceal any thing from
-you--not that I have any reason nor that I wish to do so, but
-something might escape me. I must first say, though that you must not
-expect me to break any confidence--that supposing Dan had a secret,
-and had imparted it to me, I should not be justified in telling that
-secret to any one else.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Fair and honest, my lad; what I expected from you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, then, I have been sorry to find that Mr. Kindred&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie's father--yes,&quot; interrupted the Old Sailor, with a sharp look
-at Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Has been changed to all of us lately, and especially to me; and I
-have been sorry to think that it is because of something which I have
-done that he is so changed.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You know of nothing, Josh?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing--absolutely nothing; and that's what grieves me. If I did
-know, I should be able to justify myself. Why, sir, this morning he
-refused to see me when I went to wish him good-by, and refused to let
-me see Minnie. I did not speak of this thing to Dan because of my love
-for him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And because,&quot; said the Old Sailor, &quot;supposing that Dan had a secret
-and had imparted it to you, you thought that Dan would be easier in
-his mind--in consequence of his secret--if he did not know of Mr.
-Kindred's strange refusal to see you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Just so, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Could I guess this secret of Dan's?&quot; questioned the Old Sailor.
-&quot;Could an old tar like me, who wouldn't be supposed to know much of
-boys and girls and their whims and whams, venture to guess that this
-secret of our dear friend Dan's was all about a woman?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua did not reply.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And such a woman!&quot; continued the Old Sailor. &quot;With eyes as bright as
-the stars, and with hair like a mermaid's. As cunning as a mermaid
-too; not wickedly cunning--no, no; but 'tis in her to be so; and she
-needs weaning from it, like a babe.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Very gentle was the Old Sailor's voice; and greatly did Joshua wonder,
-not at its gentleness, for that was natural to the old man, but at the
-wisdom of the words that came from his lips. All his roughness was
-gone; all his pleasantry was gone; all his simplicity was laid aside
-for the time; and the Old Sailor spoke as if all his life he had been
-studying woman's nature until he was master of its complexities. But
-such deep wisdom often comes from very simplicity.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Lord love you, my lad!&quot; he said, &quot;how blind you have been! Here has
-been a woman's heart laid bare to you, and you have not suspected it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua trembled with apprehension. &quot;For Heaven's sake, sir,&quot; he
-implored, &quot;speak more plainly!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I intend to do so, Joshua; for this is the solemnest time of your
-life. I have considered the matter deeply, and I can see but one right
-thing to do; but I am running ahead too fast. Steady there, steady. As
-I said a time ago, here has been a woman's heart laid bare to you, and
-you have not suspected it. What woman, now? But 'tis not right to ask,
-mayhap.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ask me any thing, sir; I will answer truly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What woman do you love?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ellen.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ellen? And Ellen only?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And Ellen only. None other; nor ever shall, if it is given to man to
-know his heart.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good! Answered like yourself; answered like the lad I used to see
-looking out on the river that runs to the sea; like the lad my old
-heart warmed to because there was honesty in his face; like the lad
-who has grown to be a man, and who sits afore me now with truth in his
-eyes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thank you for that, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What woman does this lad, now grown to be a man, love? Ellen--the
-pretty Ellen, the truest-hearted, gentlest-hearted, kindest-hearted,
-dearest lass on all the high seas. What woman does Joshua's friend
-Dan love? That's a question I ask myself. 'Tis easily answered.
-Minnie--Minnie with the mermaid's hair, and with eyes bright as the
-stars. Does Minnie love Dan? Yes; but not as Dan wants her to love
-him. Why? Because there is some one in the way.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who, sir?&quot; Joshua was constrained to ask, but dreading the answer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She loves Dan's friend Joshua better than she loves Dan. Let that
-friend, who sits afore me now, search his heart and his mind, and let
-him say what he thinks. He knows her nature; has been her friend since
-she was a girl; and, cunning as a woman may be, no woman can be
-cunning enough to hide her love always from the man she loves, though
-she may hide it from all the rest of the world. It happens sometimes
-in a man's life that he may be unconscious of a thing for years
-perhaps, it being present to him all the time, until, sometimes in one
-way, sometimes in another, a sudden light is thrown upon it, and he
-sees in a flash what he has been blind to all his life before.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are right, sir,&quot; said Joshua sadly. &quot;It has happened to me now. I
-have been blind.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As he sat, sadly looking at the evening shadows reflected in the
-river, every circumstance connected with his intimacy with Minnie came
-to his mind with an interpretation different from that it had borne
-before. Her pretty fancy of the shell, which he had thought of often
-as a childish conceit bore a different meaning now. Tender looks and
-simple acts, which had pleased him at the time, gathered strength, and
-became more than tokens of mere friendship. Child as she was when he
-first went to sea, he recognized now that she had more than the
-strength of a child; that even then, indeed, she was almost a woman.
-When he came back, a man, she had saved his life; and when he thanked
-her for it--surely he could do no less!--she told him that she did not
-want thanks, for the having saved his life would ever be her sweetest
-remembrance. &quot;Little Minnie, little Minnie,&quot; he had said, kissing her,
-&quot;thank you for your devotion.&quot; He remembered that she trembled, and
-that something like a sob escaped her when he had kissed her. Had he
-done wrong? Was he to blame? All he had done had been innocently done,
-as from a brother to a sister. And her feelings were known to others
-when they had been hidden from him. Minnie's secret was known to her
-father and to Susan. That was the reason why Basil Kindred had
-questioned him so strangely, and had told him the story of his life.
-Words uttered by Basil, which had borne no direct signification when
-they were spoken, came to him now with startling vividness. &quot;Young men
-are often thoughtless in their actions,&quot; Basil had said; &quot;they do not
-know the depth and earnestness of some womanly natures.&quot; The
-revelation that had come to him served also to account for Susan's
-singular conduct that very morning.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So,&quot; he thought; &quot;they believe I have been playing with Minnie's
-feelings; and both of them have condemned me. And I at the same time
-engaged to Ellen! It is too dreadful to think of. What can I do? Oh,
-what can I do?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The unspoken words rended him to the soul; he was enveloped in a
-despairing darkness. But a greater terror than all fell upon him when
-he thought of Dan. In such a momentous crisis as that through which
-Joshua's mind was passing, nothing of the past is unremembered. Words
-which otherwise are borne in mind only by their sense come back as if
-they were just being, uttered. When Dan had imparted to Joshua the
-secret of his love for Minnie, he had said, &quot;A great hope, shadowed by
-a great fear, has entered my soul; a hope which, fulfilled, would make
-earth heaven for me. Is it too precious a thing to pray for? It seems
-so to me. I tremble as I think of it. But if it is not to be, I hope I
-shall soon die.&quot; And Joshua heard again that cry from Dan's soul,
-almost word for word. The sacred nature of the love existing between
-Dan and Joshua needs to be understood to realize the terrible fear
-that smote Joshua at the present time. If Dan should ever come to
-believe him false, he would not wish to live: for the salt would have
-gone out of his life forever.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For full a quarter of an hour Joshua was wrapped in painful thought;
-and the Old Sailor had not disturbed him. But now, as he raised his
-tearful eyes to the Old Sailor's face, the Old Sailor laid his hand
-gently upon Joshua's knee, and said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, Joshua, and how do you make it out?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As bad as it well can be, sir. This is the hardest stroke I have ever
-had. I do not think that even you can understand how hard it is for
-me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because of Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because of Dan, sir. I have no need to hide Dan's secret from you
-now--you know it; but if Dan should be disappointed in his love for
-Minnie, I don't know what effect it would have upon him. All this is
-very terrible. I don't need to assure you, sir, that I have been
-entirely blameless, and that I have never treated Minnie in any way
-but that of an honored sister.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You do not, my lad,&quot; said the Old Sailor, with an evident brightening
-up in his manner; &quot;I am satisfied of that. But what do we do when a
-storm comes? Do we run and bury our heads in our hammocks, or do we
-stand up like men to meet it and battle with it?--as we are going to
-meet this storm, which has come upon us unaware, and from no fault of
-our'n. Like men, Josh; we're going to meet it like men. I am looking
-it straight in the face. No wonder it made you stagger when it come
-upon you sudden. It set my old head a-thinking when I found it
-out--though it only come upon me by degrees, and after a deal of
-watching. Just you think a bit now, Josh, and tell me if you don't see
-any way of getting the ship off the rocks.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can see no way, sir,&quot; said Joshua, after a little anxious
-pondering; &quot;all is dark around me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor laughed a quiet little laugh.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Lord, Lord how blind these youngsters are! Here's a sailor that's
-lost his reckoning, and running the danger of seeing his ship break up
-before his eyes; and all the while there's a smooth-water bay close
-alongside him, and a friendly craft waiting to give him a hand.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where is that bay, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Steady, my lad, steady. Let's see what we've got to do. Firstly, our
-duty to every body, right round. Next, to make two persons, who ought
-to know better, ashamed of themselves for misjudging of us. Next, to
-make every thing so snug that our friend Dan sha'n't suffer from any
-fault of our'n. Next, to teach a gentle lesson to a mermaid of a girl
-who's got a notion in her head that's no business to be there, but who
-otherways is as good as gold. It's a riddle, my lad, and I've got the
-key to it in my pocket.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;May I see it, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You may, and shall, Josh,&quot; said the Old Sailor, with a sly chuckle.
-&quot;It was to give you the key, that I brought you out here to talk.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And the Old Sailor took from his breast his blue-cotton
-pocket-handkerchief, upon which was imprinted the twelve-hundred-ton
-ship, with all its sails set to a favorable breeze. There was a knot
-in the handkerchief; which the Old Sailor undid with his teeth,
-keeping his eyes fixed upon Joshua's face all the while. The knot
-being untied, the Old Sailor took from the handkerchief a very small
-parcel in silver paper, and handed it to Joshua in perfect silence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua opened the silver paper, and found in it a wedding-ring.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He looked at the tiny symbol with a beating heart, and a glimmering of
-the Old Sailor's meaning dawned upon his mind.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's the key, my lad,&quot; said the Old Sailor, with a triumphant
-expression on his honest, weather-beaten face; &quot;that's the key to it
-all. You put that ring upon pretty Ellen's finger to-morrow morning
-early, and what happens? Why, you spend your honeymoon here in
-Gravesend with your little wife; and when the 'Merry Andrew' sets
-sail,--which won't be to-morrow, Josh; I've found that out,--Ellen
-goes back to Stepney with that pretty bit of gold on her finger. Says
-she, 'I'm married--married to Joshua.' 'Married' says they, all but
-one of 'em; 'married!' And surprised they are, all but one of 'em.
-'Who made you do it?' says they, all but one of 'em. 'Mr. Meddler,'
-says she; 'Mr. Meddler made me do it. He's a hard-hearted old shark,
-and he made me do it. But I'm not sorry for it,' says she; 'I'm glad
-of it. And I'd do it over again to-morrow; for I've got a true-hearted
-man for a husband, and all I've got to do is to pray that he may come
-back safe to me and to all of us.' With that they all fall a-kissing
-one another, which is but right under the circumstances. What happens
-then? Says Susan, 'I was mistaken; Joshua is as he always was.' Says
-Mr. Kindred, 'Minnie is safe. God bless Joshua for doing what he has
-done.' Says Minnie to herself, 'It's no use my loving a married man.
-I've been a foolish girl, and what I've got to do is to love Joshua
-like a brother, as he has always loved me--like brother and sister;
-that's all we can ever be to one another.' Then she turns to Dan, and
-loves that tender-hearted friend,--who ought to have been a man six
-foot high, with his limbs as sound as our'n,--and loves him as he
-ought to be loved. And I shouldn't wonder, my lad, that when you come
-home from this trip, Dan will say to you, 'Here is my wife, Jo, my own
-dear Minnie; and we're as happy as the day is long.' The consequence
-of all of which is, that every thing turns out as it ought to turn
-out, and as we all want it to turn out.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor drew a long breath after this peroration, and dabbed
-his face in a manner expressive of a high state of exultation and
-excitement. Joshua was no less moved. He toyed with the wedding-ring
-as gently and affectionately as if it were already on Ellen's finger.
-Truly, to him it was more than a piece of plain gold; it was a symbol
-of love. If it had been a precious life, he could not have handled it
-more tenderly. Tears came into his eyes as he looked at it, and his
-heart beat more strongly with love for Ellen as he pressed the ring to
-his lips. At which action the Old Sailor gave his knee a great slap;
-and falling back, in the excitement of his triumph, upon Mrs. Eliza's
-husband, nearly upset a boat for the first and only time in his life.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And that is the reason, sir,&quot; said Joshua, &quot;that you wished me to
-spend my last day at Gravesend with Ellen?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is the reason, my lad, and no other.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But how did you find all this out?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The fact of it is, my lad,&quot; replied the most unsuspicious and
-guileless old tar that ever crossed salt water, &quot;I put this and that
-together. I put this and that together,&quot; he repeated with an air of
-amazing cunning. &quot;It came first in a simple way. When you were ill, I
-went one day to see Minnie's father; and when I went into his room, I
-found that he was out. Minnie was there, though: but she didn't see
-me. She was sitting on the ground by her father's bed, with a shell at
-her ear, and was singing some words softly to herself; and I heard her
-repeat your name, Joshua, over and over again. It might have been a
-babe singing, her voice was so low and sweet. But I didn't like to
-hear it, for all that; and from that time, my lad, I began to watch,
-and to put this and that together. Lord love you if you hadn't been so
-wrapped up with Ellen, you would have found it out yourself soon
-enough. You see, if Minnie had been a little girl, that shell and her
-singing wouldn't have mattered; but being a woman, it did.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And Ellen, sir. Have you told her what you have told me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Just as much as wouldn't wound her sensitive heart, the dear lass.
-Not a word about Minnie. I've put it more as if it was your doing and
-my wish, being an unreasonable old shark, you know, and because I had
-a right to have my own unreasonable way. I told her I'd set my heart
-on it, and so had you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And her answer?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That pretty little lass says, 'If Joshua, that I love dearer
-than all the world'--them's her very words, 'dearer than all the
-world'--'wishes me to marry him down here at Gravesend, it will be my
-pride and my joy to do as he wishes, now and always.' Something else
-she says too. But before I tell you what that something else was, let
-me know what you think about it, Josh.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What can I think, sir, after what you have told me, but that I
-believe it is the best and only way to set all matters straight? It is
-a task both of love and duty--love to Ellen, duty to Dan and Minnie.
-Yet I have one regret. I have often pictured in my mind what a
-proud day our wedding-day would be to mother,&quot;--his voice faltered
-here,--&quot;and how her dear face would have brightened when our hands
-were joined!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's the very something else that Ellen says to me, Josh,&quot; said the
-Old Sailor, beaming with satisfaction. &quot;Says she, 'I should like to
-have Josh's mother at the wedding.' Says I, 'My dear, Josh's mother
-<i>will</i> be at the wedding.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No!&quot; exclaimed Joshua with a sudden start of surprise.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; cried the Old Sailor dabbing his face gleefully. &quot;Says I, 'My
-dear Josh's mother <i>will</i> be at the wedding. She will come down to
-Gravesend to-morrow morning early, and will go back quietly in the
-afternoon.' And when Ellen tells 'em at home all about it, mother will
-be the only one among 'em who won't be surprised.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Enough said, sir,&quot; said Joshua, his heart filled with wondering
-happiness. &quot;I don't know what I have done to deserve such friends as
-I've got. Let us get back to Ellen.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With that, Mrs. Eliza's husband, who had behaved more like a machine
-than a man during the long interview, pulled briskly to shore.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was dusk when they walked along the street where Mrs. Eliza lived;
-but Joshua saw Ellen standing at the door waiting for them. He
-hastened to her eagerly, and with his arm around her waist, drew her
-away from the little light that was left. She was trembling; but his
-strong arm supported her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So you are to be my little wife to-morrow?&quot; he said in a voice of
-exceeding tenderness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She clung closer to him, and hiding her face, although it was dark,
-answered him in the softest of soft whispers, &quot;Yes, if you are
-satisfied that it shall be so.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It will be for the best, darling,&quot; he whispered, embracing her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">How proud he was of her! and what a memorable night they passed with
-the Old Sailor! The best room in the house had been brightened up for
-them to have tea in; and after tea, Joshua and Ellen strolled by the
-waterside for an hour, which seemed about five minutes long, talking
-as lovers have talked since the Creation. Meanwhile, the Old Sailor
-stood at the door, smoking his pipe with infinite satisfaction at the
-thought of having set all matters straight. While he thus stood, a man
-approached with the evident intention of making an inquiry of him; but
-catching sight of the Old Sailor's face, the man uttered a hasty
-exclamation and abruptly crossed the road, making a pretence of being
-intoxicated. It was but a pretence, but it deceived the Old Sailor,
-who set it down in his mind that the man was a sailor on the spree.
-&quot;Going to join the 'Merry Andrew' to-morrow, perhaps,&quot; he thought;
-&quot;and fuddling himself, as most of 'em do the first and last nights
-ashore. A rare old swiller is Jack! Never knows when he has had
-enough. Must always take another drop.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The man's thoughts were of a different kind. When he had turned the
-corner of the street, he walked more leisurely, and drew such a breath
-as one draws when he has escaped a danger. His first muttered words
-were &quot;He didn't see me;&quot; his next, &quot;What the devil brings him here?&quot;
-That his mind was disturbed by the sight of the Old Sailor was evident
-from his manner; and it was evident also, by the wary looks he cast
-about him, that he was bent already on no idle mission and needed
-nothing fresh to occupy him. &quot;A good job it was dark,&quot; he muttered,
-directing his steps to the waterside; &quot;if he had seen me, he would
-have been sure to tell Marvel, and it might have given rise to
-suspicion. Where is that dog of a Lascar, and what the devil does he
-mean by keeping me waiting?&quot; The words were scarcely uttered when his
-face grew deadly white, and an ugly twitching came about the corners
-of his lips at what he saw before him. It was merely a man and
-woman--evidently lovers--who were walking slowly along, in earnest
-conversation. He was about to follow them, when his arm was touched by
-a new-comer, in a sailor's dress.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Here I am, master,&quot; said the new-comer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;See there, you dog!&quot; exclaimed Solomon Fewster, pointing to the
-lovers. &quot;See there! What brings her here?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Lascar looked after them, shading his eyes with his hand, and
-shrugged his shoulders. &quot;Joshua Marvel and Ellen Taylor!&quot; he said,
-with a careless laugh. &quot;Doing a little sweethearting on the sly. If
-you had the chance, you'd do the same yourself. See, they're turning
-back this way; let us get out of sight.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They stood aside, and as the lovers passed, heedful of nothing,
-conscious of nothing, but their own great happiness, their faces met,
-and a kiss passed between them. In his torment of jealousy, Solomon
-Fewster grasped the Lascar's shoulder so tightly as to make the man
-wince. The dog shook himself free from his master, and said, &quot;Well,
-he'll be away soon, and you'll have the pretty Ellen all to yourself.
-Come, now; I don't want to stop here all night. Let us say what we've
-got to say, and be done with it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Solomon Fewster walked away a few steps to recover his composure, and
-when he had mastered his agitation, returned to the Lascar.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I shipped this morning, through an agent,&quot; said the Lascar; &quot;here are
-my papers.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is too dark for me to see them; I must take your word that you
-have done what you say.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have taken my word before, master, and you have found me
-faithful. You keep your part of the bargain; I shall keep mine. It is
-my interest to do so.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, your interest,&quot; said Solomon Fewster, with somewhat of a bitter
-emphasis. &quot;You have cost me enough, you dog.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Notwithstanding that their positions of master and dog might have been
-appropriately reversed, the old fiction was kept up between them, with
-insolent arrogance on one side, and with mock humility on the other.
-Neither of them deceived the other.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I might have cost you more, master,&quot; replied the Lascar; &quot;but go on.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Let us see then, if we are agreed upon the position Of matters, and
-if we understand one another. When a certain thing happened last
-Christmas, which nearly cost a whelp his life, you thought it
-necessary for your safety&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We thought it necessary for our safety,&quot; corrected the Lascar.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To take yourself off somewhere, so as not to be seen, and therefore
-not suspected. Out of sight out of mind. In accordance with that
-understanding you went to a certain watering-place, and lived at my
-expense until you got into a drunken quarrel with your drunken
-mates, in which one of them received a cut across the face. The same
-night--being within a week of the present time--you thought it
-advisable to leave that district, and you accordingly did so, coming
-down here to Gravesend, and apprising me that you were in danger of
-arrest and in want of money.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You talk like a book,&quot; said the admiring Lascar, with a laugh.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I came down to see you, and to advise you&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Taking such an interest in me, master!&quot; interrupted the Lascar, with
-another and a louder laugh.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And I told you that as in England a man who is too free with his
-knife is likely to be deprived of his liberty for a longer time than
-he would probably consider pleasant, the best thing you could do--the
-police being on the lookout for you--would be to join a ship bound for
-a distant port, and so get clear of danger. Is that fairly stated?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Pretty fairly for you, master. It is for me to say, that so long as I
-am out of danger your safety is secured. But that's a matter, of
-course, that you don't think much of.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It happening, as it does not often happen with such dogs as you,&quot;
-continued Solomon Fewster, taking no other notice of the Lascar's
-taunt than was indicated by a contemptuous emphasis on the word
-&quot;dogs,&quot; &quot;that you were for once open to reason, you agreed with me
-that it would be best for you to get out of the country. As luck would
-have it, Joshua Marvel's ship, the 'Merry Andrew,' was shortly to
-start for New South Wales, and as part of the crew was to be engaged
-at Gravesend, where you were skulking about, you set your mind very
-strangely upon going in the same ship with the whelp, and according to
-your own statement, have accomplished your desire to-day.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I didn't find it a very difficult thing, master. Sailors are none so
-plentiful. Go on.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;When I found that you were determined to go in Joshua Marvel's ship,
-I bearing in mind that you have been as faithful as it is in the
-nature of such a dog as you to be, told you that the night before the
-ship sails, I would come down and give you a few necessaries which you
-said you required.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Such as twenty-five pounds in gold,&quot; said the Lascar.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Such as twenty-five pounds in gold,&quot; repeated Solomon Fewster, taking
-some packets from his pocket.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Such as a six-bladed knife.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Such as a six-bladed knife.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Such as another knife with one blade.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Such as another knife with one blade.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Such as a silver watch and a silver chain.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Such as a silver watch and a silver chain.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Bah!&quot; exclaimed the Lascar, in a voice of intense scorn, as he
-received the articles, one after another. &quot;Look at the sky, master.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was intensely dark; the clouds were black, there was no moon, and
-not a star was discernible. Solomon Fewster looked up, and said,
-&quot;Well?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What can you see, master?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Look at me&quot;--he had walked away a few paces. &quot;Can you see me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can see your form.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not my face, nor my eyes?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, you dog!&quot; answered Solomon Fewster hotly, for the Lascar's voice
-was contemptuously insolent.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Bah! you are worse than I am. Too free with my knife, am I? I wonder
-whether you would be too free with your knife--in the dark? In the
-light I know you wouldn't be. You wouldn't have the pluck to use it.
-Look you, master: the first part of what you said was pretty well as
-things happened; but the last part--Well, you and me know all about
-that. And yet, although we're in the dark, and can't see each other's
-face, nor each other's eyes, you haven't pluck enough to tell the
-truth; you haven't pluck enough to say even to me, here in the dark,
-with no one by, that when I found that the 'Merry Andrew' was
-going to sea. I said to you, What a fine thing it would be for me to
-go in the same ship as Joshua Marvel, and to take advantage of any
-thing that might happen to do him a good turn and that then you
-mentioned--quite accidentally, of course--that if any thing should
-happen to him through me, you would give me fifty pounds if the 'Merry
-Andrew' came home without Joshua Marvel. You haven't pluck enough to
-say that then I said, 'Done!' and done it was; but that I--knowing
-you, master--made a point of having something in earnest of the
-bargain--such as twenty-five pounds in gold; such as a six-bladed
-knife; such as another knife with one blade; such as a silver watch
-and chain. Bah! If it wasn't that I was such a cursed fool when my
-blood is up, that I don't know what I do, and that, because of that,
-it is safer for me to leave the country than to remain in it, I would
-stop and feed upon you--I would, by God!--and worry the heart out of
-such a coward.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You've been drinking,&quot; said Solomon Fewster, with difficulty
-suppressing his anger.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What if I have? I know what I am saying well enough. I have had too
-much of your airs of superiority, and of your lies and your acting.
-Why, do you think that I would ever have done your dirty work, if it
-hadn't served my purpose? Do you think that if I hadn't sworn an oath,
-and marked it with my blood, to be revenged upon that damned upstart,
-Joshua Marvel, for what he did to me, I would go in his ship? Look
-you! I will do my share of the work, never fear, master; but I would
-have done it for next to nothing, if you were a man instead of a
-sneak!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You dog!&quot; cried Solomon Fewster, in an uncontrollable burst of
-passion. &quot;You have my money, my knives, and my watch upon you at this
-moment. I have half a mind to give you into custody for robbing me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">An exclamation of anger escaped the Lascar, and Solomon Fewster cursed
-himself inwardly for his injudiciousness the moment the words had
-passed his lips. A long silence followed, a silence lengthened by
-Solomon Fewster's fears; for he knew that he was in the Lascar's
-power, and could not consider himself safe while his dog was in the
-country.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I didn't mean that,&quot; he said, with an awkward effort at conciliation;
-&quot;but you were wrong to provoke me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Lascar did not reply, and Solomon Fewster's alarm increased every
-moment. &quot;Why don't you speak?&quot; he asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I've been thinking, master,&quot; then said the Lascar with a quiet
-laugh--&quot;I've been thinking that a man isn't safe with such a sneak as
-you, and I've made up my mind.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To what?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To this; and if you don't do it, I'll go straight to Joshua Marvel
-and his pretty Ellen, and open their eyes to what you are.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And ruin yourself,&quot; said Solomon Fewster, trembling in every limb
-like the coward he was.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And ruin myself,&quot; said the Lascar composedly, &quot;and you along with
-me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You do not know what you are saying.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You shall see,&quot; said the Lascar, moving slowly away.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Stop! What is it you want me to do?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If the 'Merry Andrew' returns without Joshua Marvel, and I, having
-done my work, come to you for my wages, it isn't unlikely that you'll
-hatch some charge against me which I sha'n't be able to face, for you
-are rich and I am poor. I will prevent this. You shall come with me
-now to my lodging-house, and you shall scratch upon the inside of my
-watch, 'From Solomon Fewster to his Lascar friend,' and you shall give
-me a paper saying as how you made me a present of the knives and the
-money because I have earned them. This is what I have made up my mind
-to, and what I intend to have done, as sure as there is a sky above
-us. What's more, I'm not going to have any palaver about it. If you
-don't follow me to my lodgings, where I am going this very minute,
-I'll peach upon you, by God!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Without another word, he walked towards the town; and Salomon Fewster,
-in a tumult of fear and vain passion, followed him to his lodging, and
-unwillingly gave him his bond. That being done, the Lascar repeated
-that he might be depended upon for fulfilling his task; and Solomon
-Fewster took his leave with the consciousness that the basest of dogs
-considered himself superior to the master who used him.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Early the following morning Mrs. Marvel came down to Gravesend, and
-all preparations having been made by the Old Sailor, Joshua and Ellen
-were married. It was the quietest and happiest of weddings. There were
-but two guests--Mrs. Eliza, in a blaze of red ribbons, and Mrs.
-Eliza's husband, whose futile efforts to speak in whispers were the
-only evidences to Joshua and Ellen that the events of the morning were
-real. Every thing but that irrepressible voice was so hushed and
-subdued, that it seemed to belong more to a dream than any thing else.
-But it was a happy dream, marred by no cloud, made bright by perfect
-love. There was no happier person in the party than Mrs. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now you are truly my daughter,&quot; she whispered to Ellen, &quot;and really
-belong to me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can't believe that I am awake, mother,&quot; said Joshua to Mrs. Marvel,
-as they two stood a little apart from the others; &quot;yesterday I had no
-thought of this. I wonder if Dan is thinking of me! When will you tell
-him?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;None of them will know, dear, until Ellen comes back, and that won't
-be until your ship is gone. Mr. Meddler says it will not sail for two
-days, so your honeymoon will be longer than you expected.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And father! how surprised he will be!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He will approve, my dear, when I tell him all.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When she told him all! That means, thought Joshua, when she tells him
-about Minnie. But he said nothing aloud in answer. Minnie was in both
-his and his mother's thoughts, but neither of them mentioned her name.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Look at her, Josh,&quot; said Mrs. Marvel, turning with affectionate pride
-to where Ellen stood, hanging tearfully upon the Old Sailor's arm; &quot;no
-man ever had a greater treasure.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua, gazing at the modest figure of his dear little woman, thought
-of the comparison he had once drawn between Ellen and Minnie. &quot;Minnie
-is like the sea; Ellen like a peaceful lake.&quot; Every thing about
-her--her dress, her trustful face, the calm light in her eyes--was
-suggestive of peaceful love, a haven of refuge from the storms of
-life. She turned to him, and he hurried to her side, and took her arm
-on his.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Darling,&quot; he whispered, &quot;it seems too wonderful to be real. I am
-afraid that I shall wake up presently, and find that it is all a
-dream.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Thank God, that while this world of ours is pulsing with mean
-ambitions and unworthy strivings, with heartless pleasures and vicious
-desires, flowers of circumstance such as this bloom sometimes in the
-lives of the poorest among us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dinner was taken in Mrs. Eliza's private parlor which, abounded in
-family relics of great price, among which were especially conspicuous
-two brown-stone mandarins, who wagged their heads upon the
-mantle-shelf; two large pieces of white coral under glass shades; some
-stuffed parrots similarly protected from the ravages of time; and an
-impossible castle made with small shells. It was April weather with
-all the company, and smiles and tears alternately chased one another.
-Mrs. Eliza's husband proposed the toast of &quot;The new-married couple,&quot;
-but, attempting to make a speech, could only get out the words, &quot;And
-may they ever,&quot; which he repeated four or five times, without being
-able to explain himself. However, the toast was drunk not the less
-cordially, Mrs. Eliza's husband and the Old Sailor giving three times
-three in hearty sailor fashion. Then, it being nearly time for Mrs.
-Marvel to go back to Stepney, the Old Sailor rose, glass in hand, and
-said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mrs. Marvel, lady, if you was my own mother, my dear, which you
-couldn't be, seeing that I am old enough to be your father, but if you
-was my own mother, I couldn't honor you more. Some women are sent into
-the world expressly to be mothers; you're one of 'em, and a noble one
-you are, and a credit to Britannia. Here's may Josh and his lass ever
-be a pride to your heart, lady, as they have ever been, and may Josh
-be a skipper before he's thirty! And if a rusty old sailor like me,
-lady, can ever serve you, my dear, I shall be proud to be commanded by
-such a commander.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With that he drained his glass, and turning it upside down, took Mrs.
-Marvel's hand and kissed it, like the gallant knight he was. Amid
-tears and embraces and blessings, Mrs. Marvel took her departure,
-escorted by the Old Sailor; and the lovers were left to their quiet
-honeymoon. The &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; did not sail until two days afterwards,
-as the Old Sailor had said. All too swiftly flew by the hours in that
-brief time; and Joshua and Ellen found it harder to part than they had
-ever done before.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am pledged to you forever, darling,&quot; said Joshua, as they stood
-together during the last few minutes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And I to you, dear.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I want a curl, Ellen; not to remind me of you, but to have something
-of you always near me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She cut off one of her brown curls, and he kissed her and it, and
-placed it in the Bible Dan had given him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How shall I count the days, darling! But I shall see you through all
-my work. It is time for me to go. My undying faithful love for you. My
-undying faithful love for Dan. And now, put your arms about my neck,
-and say 'God bless you, and bring you safely back!'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;God bless you, and bring you safely back, my dear, my heart's
-treasure!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Her strength failed her here, and she was sinking to the ground.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Take her, sir,&quot; said Joshua to the Old Sailor, who was standing a
-little apart. &quot;May Heaven reward you for all your kindness!&quot; He
-stooped and kissed her once more, and whispering, &quot;I leave my heart
-behind me,&quot; hurried with uneven steps to the boat in waiting for him.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXIV.</h4>
-
-<h5>FALSE FRIEND OR TRUE?</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I wish Ellen was at home,&quot; said Dan to himself, as he sat
-alone in
-the parlor which served as his training-room; &quot;the house is quite
-lonely without her.&quot; Joshua had been gone from Stepney for four days,
-and, knowing how Dan would miss Ellen, Mrs. Marvel had insisted that
-he should stop at her house during that time. &quot;There will be no one to
-attend to you, my dear,&quot; Mrs. Marvel had said to him; &quot;Mr. Kindred is
-ill, and Minnie and Susan are fully employed waiting upon him.&quot; Dan
-acknowledged the superior claims of Mr. Kindred on Minnie's and
-Susan's attention, and consented to stop at Mrs. Marvel's house until
-Ellen returned. Now that Joshua was gone, however, he could not help
-thinking it strange that Minnie had not found time to run in and see
-him, if only for two or three minutes. He expressed this to Mrs.
-Marvel, who replied that Mr. Kindred was suffering much, she believed,
-and did not like Minnie to be away from him, loving her so dearly.
-&quot;But it will be all right, my dear, when Ellen comes back,&quot; she said,
-&quot;she will be able to assist the girls in their nursing.&quot; The
-uneasiness which Dan would have otherwise experienced at not seeing
-Minnie was allayed by the knowledge that she was doing her duty. Still
-he was glad when the morning came upon which Ellen was to return; for
-patient as he was, he was hungering to see Minnie. And now at last he
-was at home in his own little parlor, waiting almost impatiently for
-Ellen. He heard a sound in the passage, and he raised his hand in a
-listening attitude. &quot;Ellen? No; Susan.&quot; The door opened, and Susan
-entered. Accustomed as he was to Susan's strange manner and to the
-alterations in it--morose one day and remorsefully affectionate the
-next--he had never seen her as as he saw her now. Her face was pinched
-as with some great agony, her hands wandered restlessly about her
-dress and over one another, her eyes dilated as he remembered them in
-the old days when she was tormented by the fear that terrible shapes
-were stealing upon her unaware. Yet, notwithstanding these distressing
-symptoms of a mind disturbed to its very uttermost, there was
-something still more painful in her appearance. This was the effort to
-appear calm and self-possessed, evidenced in the attempts she made to
-keep her hands still and her eyes from wandering around. But she could
-not bring color to her white face, nor composure to her quivering
-lips. No nerves are more difficult to master than those which directly
-affect the mouth, and many a hard-grained strong-minded man has
-betrayed himself by a twitching of his lips, which he has found it
-impossible to control. Dan had not seen Susan for more than a week,
-and he was appalled at the change in her. His first thought was of
-Minnie.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What has happened, Susan?&quot; he cried. &quot;Minnie is not ill?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He betrayed himself in the tone of anguish in which he made the
-inquiry. Susan twisted her fingers so tightly together that the blood
-left them, but she felt no pain.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why should Minnie be ill?&quot; she asked. &quot;You have not seen her, then?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Thank God!&quot; Dan thought to himself; &quot;it is not anxiety for Minnie
-that has changed her so.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And her father, Susan?&quot; he said aloud, more softly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Her father!&quot; exclaimed Susan, approaching Dan so that he could take
-her hand; it was like ice. &quot;Basil! He is stricken almost to death. I
-don't know what to do; and I am pledged, miserable woman that I am--I
-am pledged not to speak; not to divulge what I know!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Poor Susey!&quot; said Dan soothingly, and in a tone of earnest sympathy,
-thinking that Susan's last words referred to what the doctor had told
-him of Basil's heart-disease. &quot;Poor Mr. Kindred! I am grieved to the
-soul to hear it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She strove to free her hand from his grasp; but he retained it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Tell me about Minnie, Susey,&quot; he implored. &quot;Ah, if you knew how I am
-yearning to see her--how I am yearning to console her!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At this appeal, so strong a trembling took possession of her, that her
-words, to any but the acutest sense, would not have been
-distinguishable.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You, Dan!&quot; she said, tightening her grasp upon his hand. &quot;You
-yearning to see her! You yearning to console her! Why?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Susey, you will help me when I tell you. You will let me see her when
-I tell you. I love her!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My God!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A deathlike silence followed, and Dan was almost frightened to break
-it, but he was constrained by his fears to speak.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is a hidden meaning in your words, Susan,&quot; he said in hushed
-tones, &quot;that I cannot fathom. Give me some clew, if you have any love
-for me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can give you none,&quot; she answered hurriedly, &quot;until I am released
-from my pledge. Do not ask me any thing else--I don't think I am
-conscious of what I am saying. I will go up to Basil--to Mr.
-Kindred--and beg of him to see you. What is that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was merely a knock at the street-door; but in Susan's nervous
-condition the sound was sufficient to cause her to start in alarm from
-Dan's side.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Only a knock at the door, Susey. You have overtasked yourself, my
-dear, with nursing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan hastened to the street-door, and Dan heard a voice ask if Mr.
-Basil Kindred lived there. &quot;Yes,&quot; answered Susan. &quot;Here is a letter
-for him; is it right?&quot; &quot;Quite right.&quot; And taking the letter from the
-messenger, Susan went up stairs to Basil Kindred's room. She had left
-the street-door open, and before another minute had passed, sunshine
-entered the house--sunshine, in the person of Ellen, who, radiant with
-joy, ran into the house and into the parlor, and clasping Dan round
-the neck, called him by the dearest of names, and kissed him again and
-again. What a bright flower she was! What a lovely flower she was!
-What nameless beauty had passed into her face, that caused Dan to
-thrill with pride that she was his sister, and caused him to wonder at
-the same time what change it was that had come over her and added to
-her loveliness? The sombre aspect of the room was gone; the chill, the
-fear, the dread of Susan's meaning was gone; the terror that had no
-reason in it, as far as he could see, was gone. For sunshine had
-entered the house.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O my dear, dear Dan!&quot; she cried, shedding tears in the fulness of her
-joy. &quot;O my darling, darling brother! I am so happy to be with you
-again!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She kissed his face a dozen times again, and hid hers on his neck, and
-kissed that too, until from Dan's heart, infected by her happiness,
-every particle of fear planted there by Susan's manner had fled.
-Truly, she was sunshine--the best, the dearest, the warmest.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My dear, dear Ellen!&quot; said Dan, returning her affectionate embrace,
-&quot;how happy I am that you are back! I have been thinking how lonely the
-house is without you. But&quot;--holding her face between his hands and
-looking at it, bright and blushing and beautiful--&quot;you have grown
-positively lovely. What have you been doing with yourself these last
-four days?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What had she been doing with herself? She laughed softly at the
-question, then ran and shut the door, and came back and sat on the
-floor at his feet, tucking up her dress to save it from the dust.
-She was in such a flutter even then--taking Dan's hand and fondling
-it--that he waited to speak until she was more composed. Presently she
-grew quieter, and resting her head on his knees, said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, Dan, I am quiet. Ask me questions.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To commence, then, when did you come back?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;This very minute.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who brought you back?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Meddler.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The dear old friend! Why didn't he come in to see me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For reasons. He said that we had best be left alone, so that we might
-chat. He is coming to see you to-night.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;When did Joshua's ship go away?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The day before yesterday.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why, you little puss, you've been playing truant!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Meddler persuaded me; and yesterday Mr. Meddler and Mrs. Eliza
-and me went for a ride in the country.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What a grand young lady you've got to be! And Jo! What about Jo?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She nestled to him more caressingly; and he, passing his hand over her
-face, drew it away, with tears upon it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Crying, Nell?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For happiness, Dan--for very happiness, my dear! What about Jo, you
-ask. I will speak his exact words--almost his last, dear--'My undying
-faithful love for Dan.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dear Jo! my dear, dearest brother!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That was not all he said, Dan; we were speaking of you all the
-day--you were never out of our thoughts, never out of his, I am sure.
-He is the dearest friend, the truest friend, the most faithful, the
-most constant, that happy man or woman ever had!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is all that you say, dear Ellen, and I thank Heaven for giving him
-to us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Any more questions, Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No; I can't think of any.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Then I must tell you something without being asked,&quot; said Ellen: &quot;I
-am the happiest woman in the world.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She arose, and standing at the back of his chair, clasped him round
-the neck, folding her hands one in the other, so that he should not
-see her wedding-ring. Then she inclined her lips to his ear, and was
-about to whisper the precious secret which made her the happiest woman
-in the world, when an agonized scream rang through the house. With
-affrighted looks they turned to each other for an explanation.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is Susan,&quot; said Dan, all his fears returning. &quot;I have not had time
-to tell you, Ellen, but her manner just now frightened me. For
-Heaven's sake assist me up stairs!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With his crutch under one arm, and his other round Ellen's neck, he
-went to Basil Kindred's room, and, pushing open the door, entered.
-Basil Kindred was sitting motionless in his chair, before a table on
-which were writing-materials; his head was thrown back as if he were
-asleep; one hand was on his heart, and the other, from which a letter
-had fallen was hanging listlessly down. And kneeling by his side was
-Susan, with a look of horror on her white face. But Minnie where was
-Minnie? No one had gone out of the house; if she had come down stairs,
-Dan must have heard her. He sank into a chair and gazed about him
-vacantly. It was not that the power of thought had left him, but that
-he was afraid to think. Susan, rocking herself to and fro, her face
-turned away, had taken no notice of their entrance.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ask her where Minnie is,&quot; said Dan to Ellen. He had tried to utter
-the words two or three times, but his throat was parched; and now his
-voice sounded so strange to him, that he wondered if he or some one
-else had spoken.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Susan!&quot; said Ellen, placing her hand on Susan's shoulder. &quot;Susan,
-where is Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Susan did not heed her; and Ellen raising her eyes from Susan's
-face to that of Basil Kindred, retreated appalled to Dan's side. It
-looked like the face of one to whom death had come suddenly; perfectly
-peaceful, but terrible to see. Still she found strength to whisper to
-Dan, &quot;Be strong, my dear, be strong. Shall I run and fetch mother?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mother!&quot; echoed Dan, with the same doubt upon him as to whether he or
-some one else were speaking. &quot;Mother! Oh! Mrs. Marvel you, mean Jo's
-mother.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, dear, Jo's mother and ours. Shall I run and fetch her?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, not yet. What is that paper by his side? Pick it up; give it to
-me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Averting her eyes from Basil's face, Ellen picked up the letter and
-gave it to Dan. &quot;It is Minnie's writing,&quot; she whispered.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hark!&quot; said Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was the cockatoo that Joshua had brought home that startled him. It
-was screeching down stairs, &quot;Dan, Ellen, Minnie! Bread-and-cheese and
-kisses! and kisses, and kisses!&quot; ending with the usual running fire of
-kisses, until it lost its breath. When the bird was quiet, Dan looked
-at the letter in his hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie's writing,&quot; he said, trying to read it; but the words swam in
-his fading sight. &quot;Read it, Ellen; I cannot make it out.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen took the letter from his trembling hand, and read:--</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<span class="sc">Father</span>,--I have not gone from you because I do not love you, but
-because it was my fate to do what I have done. I could not resist it.
-I have nothing to say in justification of my conduct, except the words
-I heard you use to Joshua when you were telling him of my mother. I
-came into the room while you were speaking; it was dark, and neither
-you nor Joshua saw me. What you said of my mother then sank into my
-mind, and I can never forget it. Do you remember 'She loved me and
-sacrificed herself for me. Loving me, she conceived it to be her duty
-to follow me; she forsook friends and family for me, and I bless her
-for it. Her devotion, unworldly as it was, was sanctified by love.
-There is no earthly sacrifice that love will not sanctify.' As my
-mother did, so I have done. It will be useless searching for me; for
-when you read this, I shall be hundreds of miles away on the sea. If
-you guess my secret, keep it for the sake of my good name; and for the
-sake of my good name do not let any other eyes but yours see this
-letter. If it were possible for me to have a wish fulfilled, I would
-pray that I might die before this reaches you. On my knees I ask you
-to forgive your unhappy</p>
-
-<p style="text-indent:50%">&quot;<span class="sc">Minnie</span>.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">No one but Ellen noticed the entrance of Solomon Fewster while the
-letter was being read; and she, with a warning finger to her lips,
-restrained him by that gesture from coming forward. So he stood silent
-and attentive within the doorway. As the words came slowly and
-painfully from Ellen's lips, each of them cut into Dan's heart like a
-knife. Ellen had seen his sufferings, and would have ceased reading,
-but that he motioned her to proceed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So, then,&quot; said Dan, after a long and painful pause, &quot;Minnie is gone.
-What have I to live for now? I would have been content if she had only
-been near me; if I could have heard her voice or the rustle of her
-dress to assure me of her beloved presence. Without that, my life is
-dark indeed. But where has she gone?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He asked the question of himself; but Susan starting to her feet,
-answered him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where has she gone? Where else but to sea in the 'Merry Andrew,' with
-your false friend Joshua Marvel? And the knowledge of it has killed
-her father!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is false!&quot; cried Dan in a clear ringing voice. &quot;It is false, you
-bad sister!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is true, Daniel Taylor,&quot; said Solomon Fewster in his smooth oily
-voice. &quot;I have here a letter from a sailor on board the 'Merry Andrew,'
-informing me that Minnie and Joshua are on the same ship.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At this corroborative testimony, Susan fell upon her knees, and raised
-her arms.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Curse that false friend!&quot; she cried.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Ellen fell at her side, exclaiming, &quot;O Susan, Susan, restrain your
-tongue! For all our sakes--for my sake! He is my husband!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Whereat Solomon Fewster, upon whose face there had hitherto been an
-ill-concealed expression of triumph, crushed the letter he held in his
-hand, and muttered a bitter curse.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And Dan, folding Ellen in his arms, said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hush, my sister, hush! Blessings on your wedding-ring! Blessings on
-your husband and my true friend! We shall live to see him give the lie
-to slanderous tongues. I have something to live for now--to defend the
-honor of my brother!&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXV.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE DEAD WITNESS.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">When Ellen felt the comforting protection of Dan's arms, and
-heard the
-words to which he gave utterance in the nobility of his soul, the
-despair by which she had been overwhelmed vanished like snow before
-the sun, and left her an unhappy, but not a hopeless woman.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;This, then, was your secret,&quot; said Dan to her, as she lay in his
-arms; &quot;your marriage with Jo. It is the proof of his faithfulness, my
-dear. For me, I needed none. No heart but mine can judge my friend; no
-tongue shall malign him unanswered while I am by.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good, noble brother,&quot; she sobbed, &quot;to comfort me thus in the midst of
-your own great grief! I do not doubt him; I love him--love him--love
-him! My faithful darling!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The reproachful looks she cast at Solomon Fewster, no less than the
-passionate tenderness of her words, stung him to the soul. In truth he
-had received a severe blow. When the Lascar's letter was delivered to
-him, and he read the amazing news that Minnie was on board the &quot;Merry
-Andrew,&quot; he exulted in the triumph that awaited him. &quot;Ellen is mine,&quot;
-he thought. &quot;That fool of a whelp has played straight into my hand!&quot;
-As such mean souls as Fewster's delight in detecting the meanness of
-others, he was rejoiced at the thought that Joshua had been playing
-false with Minnie, although, before reading the Lascar's scrawl, he
-had no suspicion of it. He walked to Dan's house exultant, and deemed
-himself fortunate in being in time to witness the tragic scene in
-Basil Kindred's chamber. But when he heard Ellen's declaration that
-Joshua was her husband, a groan of despair escaped him, and he became
-almost desperate in the sudden and unexpected dashing down of all his
-hopes. This feeling lasted but a very little while. His scheming mind
-was busy at work calculating the chances for and against him, and rays
-of light soon illumined the darkness. &quot;If the Lascar keeps his word,
-and Joshua does not return,&quot; he thought, &quot;all may yet be well.&quot; Even
-when Ellen flung at him the words, &quot;I love him--love him--love him!&quot;
-he said to himself, &quot;Believing that he will come back to vindicate
-himself. We shall see.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Notwithstanding this conflict of thought, his professional instinct
-led him to the side of the inanimate form of Basil Kindred. He placed
-his ear and hand to the dead man's heart; and then, with heartless
-solemnity he lifted the gaunt form in his arms, and laid it on the
-bed. Susan's eyes asked him, &quot;Dead?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dead,&quot; he answered aloud. &quot;It looks like a sudden stroke.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan covered his face; and Ellen shudderingly turned her eyes from
-Solomon Fewster.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is not my fault,&quot; he said, as if Ellen's looks conveyed an
-accusation. &quot;Neither this, nor the letter I have received. It would
-not have been the act of a friend to keep such a thing to himself:
-What would you have thought of me, if you had discovered that I had
-received such a letter, and had concealed it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No one accuses you, sir,&quot; said Dan sadly. &quot;Indeed how could you be to
-blame? These things have come of themselves, and from no fault of
-ours. But,&quot; and his eyes kindled, and he laid his hand soothingly on
-Ellen's head, &quot;we will have no word spoken against Jo. He is dearer to
-us absent than present; he is dearer to us now, when Susan's voice
-accuses him, and when you come to add your testimony to hers than he
-has ever been before.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have not come to add my testimony to hers,&quot; said Solomon Fewster,
-with a well-assumed warmth of manner. &quot;It is no testimony of mine; it
-is no accusation of mine. This letter surprised and grieved me almost
-as much as it has you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;May I see the letter, sir?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Certainly.&quot; He had almost said &quot;with pleasure,&quot; but checked himself
-in time.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan took the letter, which was written an an uneven and dirty piece of
-paper, and read aloud:--</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<span class="sc">Master</span>,--Joshua Marvel has run away with a young woman that lives in
-Daniel Taylor's house--him as trains the birds. They are both of 'em
-on board the 'Merry Andrew.' I send this by the pilot, and told him
-that you would pay him for putting it into your hands. My faithful
-service to you. When I come back, I hope to get what you promised me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal" style="font-size:80%">&quot;Aboard the 'Merry Andrew.'&quot;</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is no name to it,&quot; said Dan. &quot;Who sent it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A sailor on the ship,&quot; replied Solomon Fewster; &quot;a man who has done
-odd jobs for me, and whom I have assisted.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But how does he know me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Through the birds, and through my telling him of you, I suppose. He
-has been in the street often, and knows who live in the house. He is a
-faithful honest fellow, and I dare say thought it his duty to tell me
-about Miss Kindred, so that I might acquaint her friends.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'When I come back, I hope to get what you promised me,'&quot; said Dan,
-reading from the letter.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I promised him money if he brought home some foreign birds,&quot; answered
-Solomon Fewster readily, &quot;such as parrots and cockatoos, and other
-likely birds, for you to train for me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Meanwhile Susan had covered the dead man's face, and sat moaning on
-the floor. To her Dan addressed himself, calling her by name; but it
-was not until he had repeated it two or three times that her attention
-was aroused. She took her hands from before her eyes, and looked at
-him vacantly. There was no sign of intelligence in her face as she
-spoke; it seemed as if the light of reason had fled, and as if the
-words she uttered belonged to a lesson she had learned and was forced
-to repeat.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I promised him faithfully and sacredly--yes; they are the very words;
-he made me say them after him, 'Faithfully and sacredly,'--that I
-would never tell unless his tongue was sealed, and the time came when
-it was necessary to speak. Is the time come?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is, Susan,&quot; said Dan, a new fear at his heart; &quot;it is come.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is the time come?&quot; she repeated, turning to the motionless form on
-the bed, and waiting for the answer in the awful silence that
-followed. &quot;I was the only one he trusted. Not a soul but me was to
-come into the room; and they didn't--no I kept my promise faithfully
-and sacredly. He said to me, 'If I die, and Joshua Marvel has betrayed
-my daughter, give this book to Dan, and tell him it contains the words
-of a dying man.'&quot; She rose to her feet, and taking a book which was
-lying on the desk, gave it to Dan. &quot;Now you can tell him, when he asks
-you, that I obeyed him to the last, faithfully and sacredly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A listening expression flashed into her face, and she inclined her
-body to the door. With feverish haste she ran down stairs and into the
-street; but returned presently, muttering, &quot;She is not come; there's
-no sign of her;&quot; and resumed her station by the side of the bed.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">It is night, and Dan is sitting alone in his bedroom. An unopened book
-is before him: it is the book that Susan gave him by Basil Kindred's
-desire. He has not read a line in it. Between him and Ellen it has
-been tacitly agreed that whatever is written in it shall be read, by
-them, and by them alone, at night. Another book is also before him: it
-is a Bible, and it is open.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan is waiting for Ellen. The grief that reigns in the house, and in
-that of Mrs. Marvel, cannot be written here. It is too deep, too
-overwhelming for expression. Mrs. Marvel is in the house now. All that
-she knows is that Basil Kindred is dead, and that Minnie is gone: she
-has no knowledge of the terrible suspicion that hangs like a deadly
-cloud over the good name of her beloved son. But the news of the death
-and the flight: they could not be concealed, although no one is aware
-how they became known: has gone forth into the neighborhood; and
-little knots of the neighbors have hung about the house all the
-evening and night, discussing the strange events. Even now,
-notwithstanding that it is near midnight, a dozen street-doors are
-open, each with its assemblage of gossippers, chiefly feminine,
-prattling, not at all sorrowfully, about the wonderful news. There is
-much head-shaking and raising of hands; but whatever may be the
-meaning of this play of heads and hands, it certainly does not express
-grief. The neighborhood is rather bare of historical events; and those
-that have just occurred are godsends. Given to the neighbors round
-about the merit of all the kindliness of heart they deserve, they
-really enjoy their gossip, and show their enjoyment of it. A stranger
-walking through the street might have reasonably supposed that the
-dwellers therein had been making general holiday.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan's face is very pale as he sits, with no sign of impatience upon
-him, expectant of Ellen's coming. The door opens and Mrs. Marvel
-enters. She draws down the blind--the moonlight has been streaming in
-upon his face, giving it a more painful pallor than that which rests
-on it when the moon is shut out--and sits down by his side in silence
-for a while. She draws his head upon her breast, and kisses him; his
-arm steals round her neck, and he sheds tears, and kisses her in
-return; but few words pass between them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Susan?&quot; he asks.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She is in bed, my dear,&quot; she answers.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Has she said any thing?&quot; he asks anxiously.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She has not spoken, my dear.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He gives a soft sigh of relief. She knows that he is waiting for
-Ellen, and she will not linger. She kisses him again in her motherly
-way, and bids him goodnight; and soon after Ellen enters the room.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A great change has taken place in Ellen. All the girlishness has gone
-out of her face, and in its stead is an expression of quiet
-trustfulness in which there is much sadness, but no doubt. It is as
-though she is prepared to defend and believe in her husband's honor,
-though all the world condemn him. She closes the door gently, and
-draws a chair next to Dan. Then those two faithful souls, to each of
-whom the bitterest of trials has come, look into each other's eyes,
-and are comforted by what they see. They exchange no words of
-sympathy; none are needed from one to the other. They make no effort
-to conceal their sorrow; it must be borne, and they must suffer. But
-for Joshua's sake, and for Minnie's, they must be brave and hopeful.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Does Ellen acknowledge this, and in her heart of hearts is she
-disposed to be generous to the unhappy girl who has brought this great
-misery upon them? Yes--she feels nothing but pity for Minnie. The
-influences which actuate mental feeling are so delicate and various,
-that it is difficult even to the most profound of pathognomists to
-dissect the commonest of motives, and rightly account for it. We all
-pride ourselves, in a greater or less degree, upon our knowledge of
-character, and believe that we know full well what prompted So-and-so
-to do such-and-such a thing. But in truth, in nothing do we show more
-ignorance than in arrogating to ourselves the power of divining
-character and motive. Strive as we may be just and calm and
-reasonable--strive as we may to banish for the time the small feelings
-of uncharitableness which we are conscious of harboring, and which
-necessarily warp our judgment--we must from very necessity argue in a
-certain measure from our own point of view. Otherwise we should be
-infallible, and juries would never return a wrong verdict, and judges
-would never commit an error of judgment. Otherwise rogues would have
-their due; and some of them would not, as they do now, live in fine
-houses, and eat and drink of the best. It is impossible to put
-yourself in another man's place.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Most women in Ellen's situation would have thought of Minnie with
-inexorable animosity. Not so Ellen. The knowledge that Dan loves
-Minnie would alone have been sufficient to disarm harsh or bitter
-feeling. But that influence is not necessary. She has the firmest
-faith in Joshua's honesty and virtue, and firmly believes that when he
-returns home, please God, all will be explained. In the mean time, her
-duty is clear. Joshua's good name is at stake. In face of all adverse
-circumstance and sentiment, she must uphold it, and defend it if
-necessary.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Thus it is that as she and Dan sit looking sadly at each other, Dan is
-comforted by what he sees, and she is no less so. Their mutual faith
-in the purity of the absent dear ones is inexpressibly consoling to
-them. Unconsciously each gives to the other strength to bear the
-bitterness of the shock. But when their eyes turn to the book which
-they are to read to-night, they hesitate and tremble, What may not
-those dumb pages reveal! The place, the time, and all its surrounding
-circumstances are solemn and mournful. The presence of Death; the
-silence that strikes greater terror than brazen tongue of accusation;
-the gloom of the mean apartment, in the corners of which lurk fears
-made awful by the black shadow which inwraps them--these things and
-their influence impress with a deeper sadness those two young hearts.
-What wonder that they hesitate and tremble as they look upon the book
-in which the words of their dead friend are recorded? Joshua is on the
-sea, and each moment adds to the distance that separates him from his
-friends; Minnie is gone also; Basil, alas, is dead; and all that
-remains to light the mystery is the dumb witness that lies before
-them. But hesitation soon yields to indomitable faith.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ellen,&quot; says Dan, laying his hand upon the book, &quot;perhaps the worst
-of this day's trials is here. Are you prepared for it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Dan,&quot; answers Ellen with a steady light in her eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Susan's words were very dreadful,&quot; continues Dan; &quot;but she does not
-know Jo as we know him. Come, we will read what is here written. And
-if it accuses your dear husband and my dear friend, our hearts will
-defend him. His memory will be dearer to us because he is unjustly
-accused; and we will wait hopefully and patiently for his return,
-please God, and never, never waver.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And drawing Ellen closer to him, Dan opened the book, and in a subdued
-voice read what follows.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXVI.</h4>
-
-<h5>BASIL KINDRED'S DIARY.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">I make this record for various reasons, the strongest of which
-is the
-conviction that I have not long to live. Although my mind is in a
-state of sad confusion, what I write shall be no phantasy of the
-brain. I pledge myself to this. And I pledge myself also to throw down
-my pen when the suspicion comes upon me that, because of my fears and
-my agony, I am writing what is not strictly the fact. If I do not thus
-pledge myself, and death comes upon me unaware, this mute witness
-might be the cause of bringing undeserved unhappiness to persons whose
-conduct towards me has been wonderfully good and noble.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Let me read what I have written. Yes, it is clear, and it gives me the
-assurance that, to-day at least, I shall be able to express myself
-clearly. I pause over every word. I am careful of the construction of
-every sentence. For I must be just. I could not rest in my grave if my
-fear spoke instead of my reason.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What is it that immediately prompts me to commence this record? A
-letter--signed by no name, delivered by I know not whom. The writing
-is strange to me; I have never before seen its like. It lies before me
-now, upon my desk.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It is night. I am alone, and Minnie is at Mrs. Marvel's house. Let me
-carry back my thoughts to the time when I first made the acquaintance
-of the good people with whom I have lived for years--for many happy
-years--during which Minnie has grown from a child to a woman.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I had left her at home, poor child! hungry and unhappy. She had asked
-me in the morning for food, and I had none to give her, nor any money
-to buy it for her. The previous night we had eaten our last piece of
-bread. I went out of our little room, telling her I was going to get
-food for her. I toiled in the streets all the day, and was not
-fortunate enough to receive a penny. My sufferings were great, almost
-too great for human endurance, but I was compelled to bear them for
-the sake of Minnie. Nothing but the consciousness that, if I went home
-without food, my child might die from want, supported me. Late in the
-afternoon I was in the streets declaiming, when some boys among the
-crowd which surrounded me threw stones at me. One of the stones
-wounded me in the forehead, and I think I must have fainted. Two
-persons came to my assistance--a woman and a boy. The woman was Susan
-Taylor, the boy was Joshua Marvel. They assisted me home, and the next
-thing I remember was Susan bathing my wound and making tea for me. The
-boy Joshua had brought in some food for us. My gratitude was great,
-for his charity had saved my child. I blessed him that night before he
-left us.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">From that time he was a constant visitor to our wretched lodging, and
-from that time I never knew want. I grew to love him. He was to be a
-sailor, and it was a pleasure to me to listen to the enthusiastic
-outpourings of his mind. He had a friend, Dan, whom I had not then
-seen; and the loving manner in which he spoke of that friend, seemed
-to me to be an assurance of the goodness of his own heart. He was the
-principal subject of conversation between me and my daughter, and she,
-dear child! grew to love him too. Before he went to sea, the woman
-Susan Taylor--the sister of Joshua's friend Dan--came to live in the
-house in which I lodged, and was very kind to us. Joshua went to sea,
-and I felt a void in my heart as if I had lost a son. Minnie grieved
-as much as I did--perhaps more--for she had never had a companion, and
-Joshua's visits were looked upon as a kind of holiday. We consoled
-ourselves for our loss by speaking of him often and by looking forward
-to his return home. Minnie derived much pleasure from a childish
-conceit in which she indulged. She had a shell, and she used to place
-it to her ear and listen to the soft singing, to remind her of the sea
-and of Joshua, she said. I thought it was a pretty fancy; but had I
-feared then what I fear now, I would have crushed the shell to powder
-beneath my heel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Some time after Joshua left, circumstances occurred which caused me to
-remove to the house of Joshua's friend Dan. I was loath to do so when
-it was first proposed by Susan; but the argument used by Susan, who
-was devoted to us, that Minnie would have a companion of a suitable
-age in her sister Ellen, prevailed upon me. That was the sole cause of
-my removal to the house in which I am now living. I had reason to be
-grateful for the change. Minnie, who used to have many unhappy moods,
-was happy and cheerful in the society of her new friends. And I was no
-less so. I found that Joshua's parents were good simple people whom to
-know was to love. A girl could have had no better companion than
-Ellen, who is one of the pearls of womanhood. But before them all, I
-learned to love Dan. I had never met with so pure a mind, with so
-constant a nature. A cripple almost from his birth, it seemed as if
-the good God had endued him with the purest thought and the sweetest
-disposition to compensate for the misfortune he had met with. He might
-truly say, with our great poet, &quot;Sweet are the uses of adversity.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Some happy years passed, during the whole of which Joshua was at sea.
-At rare intervals letters from him were received, and the perusal of
-these letters gave us all--for we were like one family--the greatest
-pleasure. At length he returned. It is not long since--but a few short
-weeks--that he arrived home. He was expected, but not so soon. His
-coming was eagerly looked for--he was the hero of the two houses. The
-night of his return was memorable. It was Christmas-eve, and we were
-all assembled in Mrs. Marvel's kitchen, celebrating the blessed time
-with joyful, grateful hearts. Minnie persuaded me to read a play. I
-chose the &quot;Tempest,&quot; that loveliest creation of the poet's mind. She
-is not present, but I can see her as she unloosed her hair and stood
-before me, bright and bewitching as Ariel could have been. &quot;Do you
-love me, master?&quot; she asked. I answered in the words of Prospero,
-&quot;Dearly, my delicate Ariel.&quot; . . . I resume my pen, which I had laid
-aside, thinking that I was being betrayed by my feelings, and that I
-was indulging in an exaggeration of sentiment. But no. I have read
-over what I have written, and I am satisfied.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I was in the midst of the lovely story when a knock came at the
-street-door. Minnie went out of the room to open the door. A silence
-followed. Presently a scream struck fear to all our hearts. We ran up
-stairs, and found that Joshua, having returned sooner than he was
-expected, had been stabbed by a coward's hand when his foot was on the
-threshold of his home. The house of joy was turned into a house of
-mourning. I have no need to set down here the events of the next few
-weeks, that bring me to the present day. Sufficient to say that Joshua
-lingered for some time between life and death, and to the joy of all
-of us, was declared out of danger three weeks ago. I have been
-confined to my chamber with my old complaint nearly the whole of that
-time. Susan has attended to me chiefly; for seeing Minnie's anxiety to
-assist Mrs. Marvel in her trouble, I have allowed her to be much away
-from me. Although Minnie has not spoken of it, I have learned that
-she, according to the doctor's statement, saved Joshua's life by
-pressing her lips to the wound in his neck and stopping in some
-measure the effusion of blood, which might have been fatal to him. It
-gave me pleasure to hear this; for no service, purposed or accidental,
-could pay for the kindness we have received from the good people with
-whom we have lived so happily.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So! I have temperately set down all that has occurred up to the
-present, or rather up to four days ago, when I received the letter
-which lies before me now. I will not attempt to describe the effect it
-had upon me. It seemed to change the current of my blood. If there be
-truth in it, is there, can there be, truth in man? Before pinning it
-in the book, I copy it word for word:--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A well-wisher warns Mr. Basil Kindred that Joshua Marvel is playing
-false with his daughter. The writer has no purpose to serve in writing
-this, and does not wish to be known. The information he gives is given
-in kindness. Minnie Kindred loves Joshua Marvel, who takes every
-secret opportunity that presents itself to prosecute his bad designs
-upon a simple girl. It is right that Mr. Basil Kindred should be made
-acquainted with the real character of the hypocrite, who is fair to a
-man's face and false behind his back.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With some girls and with some people, the best way to do with such a
-letter would be to show it to those concerned. But I dare not do this.
-It would bring unhappiness and mistrust among these confiding good
-people.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And I fear for Minnie. I fear that the writer, whoever he may be, is
-right when he says that my darling child loves Joshua. And I, knowing
-her nature, feel that if unhappily she has contracted a love for
-Joshua, the discovery of it in this manner would bring misery upon her
-for life. No; she must not see the letter--must not have a suspicion
-of it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">All Joshua's previous life contradicts the accusation. It was the
-simplicity and kindliness of his nature that attracted me to him. If
-he is fair to a man's face and false behind his back, he is false to
-his friend Dan; and I, knowing Dan's heart, know that there could be
-no blacker treachery than that; for I have at times suspected that Dan
-loves my Minnie. Yes; I may tell that secret to this mute friend,
-although I have never otherwise whispered it. On one particular night
-when we were all assembled together, reading a letter from Joshua, and
-when Mr. Praiseworthy Meddler was tracing the course of Joshua's ship
-upon the map, I detected in Dan's manner something more than a feeling
-of friendship for Minnie. Since then, other small evidences have
-forced themselves upon me, and I have not been unprepared for the
-disclosure of Dan's love. Would it be a good thing for Minnie? Yes; if
-she returned his love. Although he is a cripple, she could have no
-better mate: he is all that is noble and good, and he would make her
-happy, if she could learn to love him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">If she could learn to love him! These words have caused me to think if
-Minnie could ever <i>learn</i> to love--have caused me to ask myself if
-love is not intuitive to her, as it was to her mother. My anxiety is
-deepened by the thought. I am afraid to think further.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Every thing depends upon Joshua. If she loves him, and he encourages
-her, he is false to his friend, false to honor. My duty is plain. I
-must watch first, and discover if or there be any foundation for the
-accusation, if it emanates from spite and vindictiveness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I close the book and lock it in my desk, for fear other eyes than mine
-should see what I have written.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Notwithstanding the bodily pain I have suffered, I have so far
-controlled it as to visit Mrs. Marvel's house during the last three
-days, and to sit with the young people as if nothing ailed me. I am
-beset with doubt. I know not what to think. I have watched every look,
-every movement; and I am afraid that my anxiety has caused me to be
-uncivil and abrupt. I do not think that any one but Mrs. Marvel has
-noticed my anxiety or any change in me; but I have observed her
-sometimes look at me questioningly, as if wondering at my changed
-manner.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That Minnie has an affection for Joshua is certain: she strives to
-prevent it being observed, and I think no one suspects her. If there
-is any secret understanding between her and Joshua, I have not
-discovered it. He treats her kindly and affectionately, but he is
-chiefly attentive to Ellen. But still the letter says that he avails
-himself of &quot;every secret opportunity&quot; to see her. If that be true, it
-is not likely that he would betray himself in the presence of his
-friends. I must act upon the results of my observation. I must
-endeavor to keep Minnie from visiting Mrs. Marvel's house so
-frequently; it may prevent her feelings from ripening into love. In a
-few weeks Joshua will be away, and then all danger will be over for a
-time. I am, indeed, loath to believe any wrong of him; he seems to
-have preserved the simplicity of character and the goodness of heart
-for which I used to admire him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I am glad I commenced this record; for my thoughts are often very
-confused, and my memory is impaired.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Although my uneasiness increases with respect to Minnie, I have heard
-good news: Joshua is engaged to be married to Ellen. Do I need any
-other proof of Joshua's honesty? It would be monstrous if I did; and
-yet I cannot regard him with the old feelings of affection, for Minnie
-is unhappy, and he is the cause. One day I accuse myself of injustice
-towards him; another day I almost hate him, and curse the circumstance
-that made me and Minnie acquainted with him. Would to God that he were
-gone! Every hour that he stops is an additional agony to me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie has been sullen and rebellious because I have sometimes
-prevented her from going to Mrs. Marvel's house. She has not always
-obeyed me. I must speak more firmly to her; &quot;I must be cruel only to
-be kind.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">A day of agony. I have not been able to leave my room. Minnie was with
-me all the morning: but before she came to me, I had received another
-communication, in the same handwriting as the last. It contained but a
-few words,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The friend who warned Mr. Basil Kindred before, warns him again.
-Joshua Marvel is a smooth-tongued villain. In his character of a hero
-he is playing false with two simple girls at on time.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Who can this friend be? I have no friends out of these two houses. But
-whoever he is, he is right, I fear, as to Minnie, and may be right as
-to Joshua--the mere writing of the name gives me pain. The receipt of
-the few words I have just copied opened my wounds, and they bled
-afresh. I detained Minnie with me all the morning; and when she wanted
-to quit the room, I invented pretexts to induce her to remain. She was
-not at her ease; I saw that plainly. Once or twice I am afraid that I
-spoke harshly to her; but she was painfully submissive--almost humble.
-At length she rose, with the intention of leaving the room. I asked
-her where she was going. She answered, to see Mrs. Marvel. I grasped
-her hand, and bade her resume her seat. She asked me why I did not
-wish her to go to Mrs. Marvel's house; and when I said it was because
-I thought she troubled the Marvels too much, all the hardness and
-obstinacy in her nature came into play, and she answered in a voice
-that might have come from lips of stone, that that was not my reason,
-and that I was hiding something from her. For the first time I
-betrayed myself. I asked her if she was not hiding a secret from me;
-and she returned me an evasive reply. She left the room, and I was
-about to follow her, when I was seized with a terrible dizziness. My
-strength deserted me, and I was afraid I was about to die. The attack
-passed away, and left me as weak as a child.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I pause in my recital of the day's events to make two declarations.
-The first is, that I am certain, from my sensations this day, that a
-sudden shock would be fatal to me; I am afraid that my heart is
-diseased. The second is, that if I die suddenly, and Joshua has
-betrayed my child, he is my murderer in the sight of God and man--as
-much my murderer as if he were to come into the room this moment and
-plunge a dagger in my heart!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">How awful are these words! As I look at them, they seem to rise in
-judgment against me. &quot;Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy
-neighbor.&quot; Am I bearing false witness against Joshua? Am I to be the
-cause of bringing unhappiness to friends but for whom Minnie and I
-might have perished from hunger? Still do I cling to the hope that
-lives in uncertainty. Still do I strive to believe that my fears have
-grown without reason, and that they are like the monstrous shadows
-that mock us on the walls and ceiling of a room whose only light is a
-flickering fire. Above every other consideration, I must be just. If
-no eye but mine reads these lines, I shall have done no harm in
-writing them. If it should happily result that Minnie's love is not
-deeply rooted--if it should happily result that Joshua has not been
-tampering with her affections, and that he goes away spotless, as I
-would fain believe him to be--let me determine to destroy this record.
-It must be done. Determining to do this--willing it with the whole
-strength of my mind--I shall be able to do it even before I am
-stricken down, if it be fated that I am to die suddenly. Should it be
-otherwise--should he prove to be false--this record shall remain as an
-evidence of his treacherous heart.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When Minnie left me, and I discovered that I was too feeble to follow
-her, I thought, Oh, if I had some one I could trust--some one to help
-me! And as I thought, Susan entered the room. In her I confided; to
-her I told my fears; and after pledging her sacredly to secrecy, I
-showed her the letter I have received. She has promised to watch
-Joshua, and she will be faithful. Now I shall know whether I have
-cause for fear; now I shall know whether Joshua Marvel is false or
-true.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">I do not think I shall ever be able to leave my room. It is more than
-a week since I wrote in this book: True, I have had nothing to say
-until now. Minnie has been tender and affectionate to me; she has been
-absent at various times during the day; but when she is with me she is
-all that a child should be. I have left her free to come and go,
-knowing that Susan was watching that she should come to no harm. I
-sometimes think that she is fighting with her soul; for a new-born
-sadness has settled upon her face. Yesterday I saw her sitting by the
-window, with her hands clasped in her lap, and a deep-seated sorrow in
-her eyes. I have seen her mother sit so in the old days long, long
-ago--in the old days that seem to belong to another life. I had been
-asleep; and when I awoke, I saw Minnie wrestling with her sorrow. I
-called to her twice before she heard me; and when she came to my side,
-she had the air of one who has been suddenly aroused from a dream.
-Darling child, I pray to God to give you strength to bear affliction,
-if it comes to you! If any sacrifice that I could make would lessen
-your pain, how gladly would I make it!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Last night Susan slept with her, and in her sleep heard her murmur
-Joshua's name. It proves that he is in her thoughts; but it proves
-nothing more. I hear a step upon the stairs. Goodnight, dumb witness
-of my grief!</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">How shall I commence? All my pulses are throbbing with rage and
-apprehension. Proof has come. Joshua Marvel is a damned false-hearted
-villain!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I write with pain and difficulty. My heart is beating so violently,
-that I am obliged to stop to calm myself, for fear of consequences.
-Calm myself! Can I do it? I must. I will lay down my pen, and wait
-until I have subdued the tumult of passion which rages within me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So! I am calmer. It is well that I stopped, or what the doctor warned
-me of might have occurred. And I want to live--Oh, how I want to live!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan is sitting in the room with me; for I am afraid a being alone,
-to-night of all nights. I am glad that I have kept this record; I am
-glad that, if I die suddenly, the guilt of an infamous recreant will
-be brought to light by means of this evidence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">About noon to-day--I am writing this at night--Minnie brought a doctor
-to my bedside. I had steadily refused to see one before; for I knew
-what I was suffering from, and I knew that the doctor's art was
-powerless to cure me. But I was not displeased that Minnie brought
-him; it was her anxiety and love--for she does love me--that caused
-her to disobey my wishes. I sent Minnie out of the room, so that I
-might speak to the doctor in private. He told me nothing new; as well
-as suffering from rheumatism and low fever, I have heart-disease. He
-told me what I already knew--that I might die suddenly, without any
-other forewarnings than those I have already received. He went away
-after uttering the usual platitudes. Late in the afternoon I fell
-asleep; and when it was dark, I heard a step in the room; asking who
-was there, Joshua's voice answered me. I spoke to him bitterly out of
-the bitterness of my heart, and he answered me quietly and feelingly.
-He said he had noticed with sorrow that I was changed; that he was not
-conscious of having done any wrong. He begged that I would be to him
-as I was before he first went to sea, and when I had blessed him. I
-could not see his face; but his voice was tremulous with emotion; and
-when he appealed to my sense of justice, I softened to him, for I had
-no evidence against him but the suspicion which had been created by
-the warning letters I had received. I had it first in my mind to tell
-him all; but my pride and my consideration for Minnie's feelings
-restrained me. Instead of doing that, I resolved to probe him; and,
-that my agitation might not betray me, I refused to have a light. We
-spoke in the dark. I elicited from him that he was engaged to Ellen,
-whom he declared he loved before all the world. Upon that, his hand in
-mine, I wished him the happiness that faithful love deserves. When,
-after that, Minnie became the subject of conversation, there was a
-hesitancy in his manner that aroused my slumbering suspicions. Then I
-spoke so plainly to him--though telling him nothing about the
-letters--that he could not have misunderstood me. I told him that my
-heart was diseased, and that I could not live much longer. I told him
-that I was tortured by anxiety for Minnie's future; that she needed
-guidance and control; that she knew only one duty--the duty of love;
-and that she could scarcely understand that, under certain
-circumstances, love may be sinful. I told him that she was changed,
-that she was hiding something from me, and that I was afraid some such
-love as I had spoken of had come to her. And when I asked him if he
-knew or suspected to whom that love was given, he was silent, and did
-not answer me. Was not that silence sufficiently damning? I asked him
-if he were concealing any thing from me, and he equivocated. What
-should he conceal from me? he asked. At that answer I almost gave up
-hope; but my child's happiness was at stake, and I persevered. I
-resolved to tell him the story of my life, that he might learn how
-Minnie's mother sacrificed herself for love; that he might learn what
-Minnie's nature, being like her mother's, really was; and to what
-extent she would go where her heart was engaged. It was an appeal to
-him for mercy. How has he treated that appeal?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I told him the story of my life; I laid bare my heart to him. I lived
-over again the agony of my wife's death. I told him that Minnie was
-like her mother, without her mother's teaching; that the impulse of
-her mind was under the control of the impulse of her heart; that those
-who knew it must guide her gently, tenderly; and that if any man
-betrayed her, he would have to answer for it at the Judgment-seat.
-Could tongue speak more plainly than mine did? Could any man who was
-not totally devoid of honor and humanity have listened to my trembling
-words unheedingly? I appreciate at its proper worth the code of
-morality by which many heartless men are guided; but I never believed
-it possible that man could be so base as Joshua has proved himself to
-be. Here is a proof of his villainy. Within a few minutes after my
-story was ended--within a few minutes after he left my room, crying in
-sympathy with me--he was fondling Minnie in the passage below. Susan
-can prove it. They were in the dark, and Susan came up from the
-kitchen with a lighted candle, and discovered them. Their hands were
-in each other's clasp; and when Joshua Marvel saw the light and Susan,
-he turned away his head, so that she should not see his face. They
-parted on the moment; and Susan, not appearing to notice them, passed
-them by, and, faithful woman as she is, came straight to me, and told
-me what she had seen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Fair to a man's face, and false behind his back&quot;--ay, that he is! But
-not for him, for whom my indignation can find no fitting name, do I
-care. For Minnie are all my thoughts. How can I act towards her? How
-can I warn her? Tell her that he is false! that he is lying to her!
-that to listen to him is shame! She would smile at my words; and if
-she dared not scorn, would pity the tongue that uttered the calumny. I
-must think; must think. In the mean time, she must not be allowed to
-go about without being closely watched. Susan will do that for me. It
-will not be for long. He will be away soon, thank God; and when he is
-gone, I can resolve what to do. Perhaps he may never come back. With
-all my heart I pray--No, I dare not pen the words. The thought of
-Ellen and Dan, and his gentle mother, stops me. I give them here my
-heartfelt thanks, for all their noble kindness to me and Minnie. But
-for him--the treacherous son, the false friend, the perjured lover--I
-vow never willingly to look upon his face again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">My passion has exhausted me. I turn to the first page of this record,
-and I see there the pledge that I would throw down my pen when the
-suspicion came upon me that because of my fear and my agony I am
-writing what is not strictly the fact. I read over what I have written
-this night; and I solemnly declare that every word is true, as I hope
-to meet my wife in heaven!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But a few words more. When I return this book to my desk, I shall tell
-Susan to place it in Dan's hands, if I die before Minnie is safe. A
-step upon the stairs! It is my darling child's!--</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Another day of misery has passed, and I have received farther damning
-proof that Joshua Marvel is tampering with Minnie's affections. In my
-present state of mind, it will be best for me to write down Susan's
-statement, word for word. I cannot trust myself. I call her to me, and
-bid her relate, without passion, and without prejudice, what she saw
-to-day. What follows is from her own lips.</p>
-<br>
-
-<h4>Susan's Statement.</h4>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I noticed this morning that Minnie was more restless than usual.
-Whenever I looked at her, she looked at me back again; as much as to
-say, what do you mean by staring at me in that way? I couldn't help
-thinking that she knew I was watching her and I felt uncomfortable.
-But I watched her for all that, as I promised you I would. When she
-went out of the room, I made believe that I wanted to go out too. Now
-I think of it, she must have gone out of the room on purpose to try
-me; because the second time I followed her, she turned upon me in the
-passage, and looked at me in such a manner that I was frightened.
-Between eleven and twelve o'clock I was in the kitchen, helping to
-cook the dinner; and when I came up stairs, Minnie was gone from the
-house. I ran round to Mrs. Marvel's, and she wasn't there. Scarcely
-knowing what to do, I slipped on my bonnet and shawl, and went into
-the streets to look for her. All at once it came into my mind, that if
-I should find her anywhere it would be at the docks, where Joshua's
-ship was, and where Joshua was working. I ran there as hard as ever I
-could, and just at the entrance of the docks I caught sight of Minnie.
-I was regularly out of breath, and my only fear now was that she might
-see me. So I kept out of the way as much as I could, and followed her
-quietly. When she got near the ships she stopped short; and presently
-Joshua, who was looking over the side of his ship, as if he was
-expecting some one, came down to where she was standing, and began
-talking to her. He seemed a little bit uneasy--perhaps, because there
-were so many people about, and because, I thought, he didn't want
-Minnie to be noticed, for all the workmen and sailors were staring at
-her. They went up a plank on to Joshua's ship; and Joshua had his arm
-round her waist. They stood by the side of the ship, looking towards
-the river, talking together. I never took my eyes off them, and I am
-certain--though, of course, I couldn't hear them--that they were
-talking of something very particular. All at once I lost sight of
-them; they had gone to a part of the ship where I couldn't see them. I
-think they must have been out of my sight for nearly a quarter of an
-hour; and when they returned, Joshua looked to the place where I was
-standing by the side of some large cases, and came off the ship
-towards me. I was frightened that he would catch me, and I ran away.
-When I was safe, I turned, and saw Joshua and Minnie together coming
-from the ship. Minnie walked out of the docks by herself; and I
-followed her home, and waited in the street a little before I went
-into the house after her. But I no sooner got inside the door, than
-Minnie met me in the passage; she hadn't taken her bonnet off. I
-didn't seem to notice her; but she came into the kitchen after me.
-'Where have you been, Susan?' she asked me, so sudden-like that I was
-almost taken off my guard. 'Out for a walk,' I said. 'Have you been to
-the docks?' she asked me. 'No,' I said; but I felt my face turning red
-as I told the story. I thought she was done with her questions; but
-she soon commenced again. 'Are you going out again?' she asked. I
-said, No, I wasn't. '<i>I</i> am,' she said; 'I am going out for a walk.'
-And she ran up stairs and out of the house. I didn't know what to do;
-and I came to you, and you told me not to watch her any more to-day.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">It is evident that Minnie is suspicious of Susan, and I know that
-Susan is no match for her. Ill as I am, I can see but one thing to
-do--I must wait and hope. That the innate goodness and purity of
-Minnie's heart will keep her from harm, is my earnest prayer. I will
-be, if possible, more tender and loving to her than I have hitherto
-been. I dare not speak plainly to her; I believe, if I did, that she
-would go away from us, and we should never see her again. If I were
-well, it would be different. I should take her from here until Joshua
-Marvel had sailed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What can I say of him? It is clear that Minnie went to the docks by
-appointment, and that he expected her. I have appealed to him vainly.
-After what passed between us--after the knowledge he has gained that I
-am aware of his treachery--he has shown himself, in this clandestine
-meeting with Minnie, to be totally devoid of honor. I leave him to his
-conscience and to the judgment of his friends. May occasion never come
-for them to learn how they are deceived in him!</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Two days more have passed. In a week Joshua Marvel's ship sails. I
-believe from that moment I shall begin to grow better. Then I shall
-make new plans for the future. The future! Alas, my future on earth
-will soon come to an end! See how I contradict myself. One moment
-saying that I shall begin to get better when Joshua is gone; the next,
-that my end must soon come. But 'tis in the nature of such a state of
-feeling as mine to be hopeful one minute, and despondent the next. The
-best thing for Minnie would be, that she should be impressed and
-touched by Dan's love for her--of the existence of which I am sure,
-having thought much of Dan's manner towards her--and that she should
-consent to marry him. It is not certain that she loves Joshua; after
-all, nearly the whole--nay, the whole--of the evidence is
-circumstantial. It is but natural that she should have an affection
-for him; the nature of the intimacy, his kindness to her and me, the
-very circumstances attendant upon his return home, make that a
-necessity. Indeed, indeed, it would be most unnatural if an affection
-did not exist between them. The mere writing of these words is
-comforting to me. I know that they are at variance with much that I
-have previously written; but at one time I am writing out of my
-despair, at another time out of my hope. I write now out of my hope.
-Joshua Marvel will soon be gone, and I am assured that no farther
-meeting has taken place between him and Minnie. Minnie's behavior to
-me has been most kind. She is growing more and more like her mother
-every day. There appears to have arisen in her some consciousness that
-my claims to her love are more binding upon her than those of any
-other person. I have passed some very happy hours with her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She said a strange thing to me this morning. &quot;Father, do you think I
-should make a good actress?&quot; The question startled me, for it brought
-back to me some memories of my past life. Minnie, when a little child,
-was often in her mother's arms in the theatre where I happened to be
-playing; her mother would be waiting for me perhaps, and would not
-leave our little darling alone in the room. Minnie has no definite
-remembrance of those times and circumstances, I think; but shadowy
-impressions of the scenes she then almost unconsciously witnessed are
-stamped upon her mind. Upon this theme I questioned her somewhat
-curiously this morning, and found that these experiences had had their
-effect upon her, and that she has vague remembrances of beautiful
-creatures beautifully dressed, walking in gardens in the midst of
-light. Ah, if she were aware of the reality! If she knew what poor
-struggling men and women these beautiful creatures were, and what a
-mockery were the beautiful dresses and the lovely gardens in which
-they lived their artificial lives! But I did not disenchant her. Life
-is bitter enough; if a gleam of brightness can be thrown upon it by
-the indulgence of a harmless fancy, it is good. In the midst of our
-conversation, Minnie suddenly left the room, and in about half an hour
-returned completely metamorphosed. She went out of the room a fair
-lovely girl, she returned a dark tawny woman, looking at least half a
-dozen years older; but still beautiful, very beautiful. I gazed at her
-in wonder. By what means had she effected such a marvellous change in
-herself? She explained, first asking me if I knew her again. Knew her
-again? Could she by any disguise hide herself from my knowledge? But
-suppose I had only seen her once in my life, she asked, then did I
-think I should have known her again? I did not exactly know how to
-answer that, and although she pressed me to give her an answer, I
-could not. I was delighted to see her in the new light in which she
-presented herself to me; it was almost an assurance that some portion
-of my fears was groundless. She explained to me that in the box
-containing her clothes were some remnants of the wherewithals I once
-used in my profession, such as colors and a few wigs. I had forgotten
-them, not having had occasion for them for so long a time. And she
-confessed that she had often amused herself with these things. Indeed,
-in the middle of her explanation she stooped and hid herself from my
-sight, and rose in the wig I used to wear when I played &quot;Hamlet.&quot; She
-had tucked up her beautiful hair with the skill of an actress, so that
-it was completely hidden by the wig; and as she stood before me, I saw
-in her some shadowy resemblance of myself as I was in days gone by. I
-could not but be delighted with her light humor; it almost entirely
-dispelled my fears. Then she took off the wig, and washed the color
-out of her face, and sat by my bedside quietly. I am used to her
-variable moods, and therefore, although I was sorry to see that her
-sportiveness had fled, and that a more serious mood took its place, I
-was not surprised. Never in all her life has she shown me such
-tenderness as she exhibited towards me this day. &quot;I shall always love
-you, father,&quot; she said to me, more than once. Dear child! Darling
-treasure of my heart! All good angels guard you.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The cup of happiness is dashed from my lips. Something so strange, so
-unexpected, has happened, that, simple as it is, I scarcely know how
-to set it down, or what to augur from it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie has gone!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Where--for how long for what purpose--I do not know. She has gone from
-her home, from me.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Early this morning, while I was waiting to see her dear face, I was
-thinking of something strange that occurred in the night, wondering
-whether it formed part of my dreaming fancies or had actually
-occurred. It was this:--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The house was very quiet. It was the most solemn part of the night,
-when troubled life is most like peaceful death. The healthfulness of
-dreamless sleep is denied me, as it is denied to all men whose minds
-are harassed. For many weeks I have not enjoyed an hour's repose, and
-so confused are the images that pass through my mind when I am alone,
-that I am often in doubt whether the scenes in which I am taking part
-are real or fanciful. I was in this condition last night at the time
-of which I am writing. While I was thinking or dreaming of Minnie and
-her mother, I heard a soft footfall in the room. The impression that
-some one was in the room was strong upon me, and when I felt a kiss
-upon my face, and my pillow being smoothed by a gentle hand, I was
-almost convinced that it was Minnie. The presence remained with me for
-I know not what length of time; I do not know when I lost it, or when
-it departed, but when I called &quot;Minnie!&quot; no voice answered me. When
-daylight came, I determined to ask Minnie if it was she who had
-entered my room in the night. I waited impatiently for her appearance,
-but she did not come. Susan came, and I asked her if Minnie was down
-yet; Susan had not seen her. I bade her go and tell Minnie to come to
-me; she returned and said that Minnie was not in bed, nor in any part
-of the house. As Susan told me this, she came to my bedside, and,
-stooping, picked up a paper which must have fallen from beneath my
-pillow. There was writing on it--Minnie's writing. It was addressed to
-me, and it told me that Minnie had left me, not from any want of love,
-but because she was miserable and unhappy. She said said she knew that
-she had been watched; that a feeling she could not control had
-compelled her to leave for a time; that she would write again or see
-me in a few days; and she begged me to believe that no one but herself
-was to blame for what she had done. She asked me, too, not to be
-anxious as to how she would live, for she had provided for that.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The first thing I did was to desire Susan to lock the door, and on no
-account to allow a person to enter the room. For the thought flashed
-upon me, that if it were known that Minnie had left her home
-clandestinely, her good name would suffer. She had done a foolish
-thing--ay, it was a cruel thing to leave me thus; but it was done in
-all innocence, I am sure, and in ignorance of the world's judgment
-upon such an act. I, her father, must protect her good name; no breath
-of slander must be allowed to touch her. Therefore I judged it
-imperative that the secret of her departure should be known only to
-Susan and me. I gave Susan the letter to read, and when her tears were
-dried, my plan was formed. It is well for me that I have such an
-attached and faithful friend as Susan. Without her, I should be
-helpless indeed. I explained my wishes to her, and she promised to
-obey them implicitly--and she will. The Marvels and Dan and Ellen are
-to be told that Minnie cannot leave me; that my illness has increased,
-and I require her constant attendance. And on no pretence whatever is
-any one of them to be allowed to come into the room. The door is to be
-always locked, and when Susan goes out of the room, she is to lock the
-door and take the key with her. I am afraid that Susan judges Joshua
-even more harshly than I do; for she suggested that she should watch
-his movements, in the expectation that some clew might be gained. Her
-evidence of to-day is all in his favor. She ascertained that he went
-this morning direct from home to his ship; that he worked there for
-six hours, and that he came home direct to Ellen. No, I cannot
-associate him with Minnie's disappearance. I have been thinking as
-coherently as I could as to what is most likely the cause of her
-leaving home, and the most hopeful conclusion I can arrive at is this:
-That Minnie has an attachment for Joshua, which, in the face of his
-engagement with Ellen, she feels it is her duty to subdue; that it is
-painful to her to be a witness of Ellen's happiness; and that, fearful
-lest she should betray her attachment, she has left the neighborhood
-until Joshua has gone upon his voyage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I am re-assured. This conclusion is reasonable as well as hopeful. I
-must bear with the misery of her absence--ah, how I miss her beloved
-face!--in the hope that my darling will return to me when he is gone,
-and that she will regain her peace of mind, and be to me as she has
-hitherto been; chastened perhaps, but not entirely unhappy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Are you thinking of me, Minnie? Can you realize the depth of my love
-for you, my dearest? If such a thing exists in the flesh as spiritual
-communion with those we love, you will know, darling treasure of my
-heart! that my thoughts, my blessings, my prayers are with you now.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">In two days Joshua's ship will sail, and then my darling will come
-home. The secret of her departure has been well kept. No one knows or
-suspects. There is a rare faithfulness in Susan's nature. If she
-possessed all the graces of womanhood, she could not be nobler than
-she is.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I need all my strength to enable me to bear with Minnie's absence; so
-constantly do my thoughts dwell upon her, that at certain times I lose
-consciousness of what has taken place, and detect myself listening for
-her footstep. At other times I am engrossed by the idea that many
-years have passed since I last saw Minnie. When this impression is
-upon me, Minnie appears to me not as a woman, but as a child.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua Marvel has gone. Thank God! Now I may expect Minnie to return.
-Any moment may bring her to my loving arms again. I am haunted by the
-ghosts of footsteps on the stairs. I know afterwards that my fancy has
-conjured them up; but if they were real, I could not hear them more
-plainly. They are Minnie's footsteps always. I hear them first in the
-passage leading from the street--I stop and listen. Softly yet swiftly
-they come nearer and nearer to me, till they are outside my door. Then
-I say to myself, &quot;She is lingering for a while, thinking of the
-happiness I shall feel when she opens the door and runs to my side.&quot;
-But the long silence that follows tells me that the steps I heard were
-created by my fancy, and that I have still to wait for the
-accomplishment of my dearest hope.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Before Joshua left, he came to the door, and asked to see me and
-Minnie to bid us good-by. His desire to see Minnie was assuring, for
-it convinced me that the reasons I assigned for her leaving are
-correct, But I would not see him--I could not; for if he came into the
-room, he would discover Minnie's absence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I am thankful to think that may forced seclusion will soon be at an
-end. How the minutes lag! Come, Minnie! Come, my darling child!</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">How shall I be able to endure this agony? It is night; yesterday
-morning Joshua Marvel left to go on his voyage, and there is no sign
-of Minnie. What can I think? Has any calamity befallen her? Is she
-lying sick, helpless anywhere, and must I remain here, gnawing my
-heart away with the knowledge that I am powerless to help her? O God,
-who only witnesseth my sufferings, send my darling home to me
-to-night! If in my life I have erred, and deserve punishment--if the
-injunction I laid upon the woman who loved me, and whom I loved with
-all my strength, was a crime, and if I am to suffer for the misery of
-her wedded life, being the cause of it--deal with me as thou wilt; but
-let me look once more upon the face of my darling!</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The third day. My life is being tortured away. I believe that I shall
-die before seeing Minnie. The prescience of death is upon me. Every
-few minutes Susan runs into the street to see if Minnie is coming; but
-there is no sign of her. The slightest sound in the house causes my
-heart to beat so violently that I am afraid. I try to think, but I
-cannot; I can only fear. These few words have taken me long to write.
-I cannot read what I have previously written. I have tried to do so,
-but the words swim before my eyes. I can write no more to-day.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">With a despairing mind I trace these words slowly and painfully. They
-are powerless to express my feelings.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Death is near. I know it. Not by physical pain am I warned, but I know
-it. I saw my wife last night. She stood by my side for full an hour.
-It is a sign that my hour is come.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan is below, looking for Minnie, perhaps--looking for Minnie, who
-will never, never come. . . .</p>
-
-<p class="normal">I take up my pen again. What lies before me? A letter. Susan brought
-it up a while ago, and gave it to me. But when I saw the writing on
-the cover, I had not courage to open it, so I placed it in the desk.
-It is addressed to me in Minnie's writing. And on the cover are these
-words: &quot;The 'Merry Andrew;' John Steele, pilot.&quot; The letter, then,
-comes from the &quot;Merry Andrew,&quot; and is in Minnie's writing. What
-follows? That Minnie is on board the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; with Joshua
-Marvel! I must read it--I <i>must</i>, if it strike me dead!</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">That was all that was written. Dan read every word of the manuscript
-aloud, but was compelled by emotion to pause many times. During the
-silence that followed, one thought rose uppermost in their minds.
-Ellen thought, &quot;How will Dan bear this?&quot; And Dan had the same thought
-with respect to Ellen. Is such noble unselfishness rare? Let us hope
-not. For the first and only time in the course of this narrative, the
-writer pauses to speak of a personal experience of devotion and
-unselfishness. It was before him during his boyhood in the person of
-his mother; and it is to her, and to the patient, unmurmuring
-gentleness with which she bore the trials of her life, that her
-children owe whatever little of good there may be in their nature. It
-is from his experience of his mother's life of goodness and
-self-sacrifice that he knows that the noble unselfishness of Dan and
-Ellen is not, thank God, a creation of his fancy. And as he writes
-these words in the midst of a great city, with all the whirl of its
-busy life around him, he is glad to think that in it--in great
-mansions and mean houses, in sight of gardens where Nature makes
-holiday, and of dirty streets and courts where bright leaf never
-grows--flowers of human life which the world shall never see are
-blossoming tenderly and holily, and living gentle lives for others'
-good.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For a long time no word was spoken by Ellen and Dan. Then Dan turned
-and looked in Ellen's face. She met his gaze pityingly, almost
-appealingly. He answered her with a sad smile, in which there was much
-sweetness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You were the first to guess my love for Minnie,&quot; he said; &quot;and only
-to Jo did I ever confess it. But do not fret for me, my dear; she can
-never be to me what I was daring enough to hope she would be one day.
-My love for her is not less strong, but my hope is buried now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She could say nothing but &quot;Oh, my poor Dan! Oh, my poor Dan!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay, why?&quot; he answered in his gentle voice; &quot;what could I have
-offered her? What right had I, a cripple, to entertain the hope? I
-dared to hope that she, bright, strong, and full of healthful life,
-would tie herself to a weak, sickly thing like me. I dared to hope
-that she would love me. I fed my heart upon delusions; I can see it
-now, But I can love her still--can believe in her still--shall have
-faith in her purity as long as my heart shall beat, and after
-that--ay, who knows?&quot; He paused for a little while before he resumed:
-&quot;What you and I have in our thoughts, my dear, we must speak of; in
-that lies our only consolation. And we must not shrink from it; for
-our duty, no less than our love, demands it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And yet she did shrink, fearing what was coming.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What wonder that she should love Joshua?&quot; continued Dan,
-unflinchingly determined to look the truth in the face, and not to
-spare himself; although as he spoke his quivering lips and tremulous
-voice betrayed his agitation. &quot;We who know how good and brave he is
-are able to understand that she could not help loving him. But he--no,
-he played no false part by her.&quot; He placed his hand upon the Bible,
-and the action gave a deeper solemnity to the declaration. &quot;Some
-suspicion he may have entertained that her feelings towards him were
-warmer than they ought to have been; and I well know the grief such
-suspicion brought to him. But he could not mention it--he dared not
-speak of it for Minnie's sake--for mine. I can trace a meaning now in
-the last words he said to me. 'You do not doubt me, Dan?' he asked. I
-answered, 'No, nor never could.' And then he said he should not have
-asked, but that certain things had distressed him lately. Poor Jo!
-Yes, he must have guessed Minnie's secret, and, knowing my love for
-her, trembled lest I should turn against him. Turn against him! my
-best, my dearest friend! When I do, it will be time for me to die.
-Believe that I never wavered in my love or my truth, and that to the
-last I held you in my heart as I hold you now, gentlest, dearest, best
-of friends!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Unconsciously he had uttered the very words which Joshua addressed to
-him, and he spoke them as if Joshua were standing before him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As for what we have read to-night, we, and we alone, can rightly
-understand it. He who wrote it in his agony knows now that Joshua's
-heart is as pure as Minnie's honor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Those strange letters poor Minnie's father received,&quot; whispered
-Ellen; &quot;who wrote them?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who stabbed Jo when he came home?&quot; asked Dan in reply. &quot;Whoever did
-that wrote the letters. Jo has an enemy.&quot; Then, with a sudden
-remembrance of Joshua's warning against Solomon Fewster, he cried in a
-louder tone than he had hitherto used, &quot;Mr. Fewster!&quot; With eager
-impatience he turned over the pages of Basil Kindred's diary, and
-lighted upon the original letters. They were pinned on blank pages at
-the end of the diary, and were written on soiled sheets of blue
-letter-paper. &quot;No,&quot; said Dan, examining them; &quot;the writing is strange
-to me. We must wait until Jo comes back; all will be explained then.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The candle had burnt low in the socket by this time, and Dan had just
-said, &quot;I think we had better try to sleep for a little while, Ellen,&quot;
-when they heard sounds of some one walking softly about the house.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is no one here but Susan,&quot; said Ellen in a tone of quiet
-surprise.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No one but&quot;--said Dan, and then paused, awestruck by the thought of
-that only other one in the house, who lay stark and dead in the room
-above.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They listened to Susan's footsteps, and a new fear entered their
-hearts. There was a soft stealthiness in the footfall, as if Susan
-were hunting for some one who was hiding from her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Shall I go and see?&quot; asked Ellen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hush!&quot; whispered Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan's footsteps, soft and stealthy as those of a cat, were in the
-passage. Presently the door was opened cautiously, and Susan entered,
-and softly closed the door behind her. She did not notice either Dan
-or Ellen, but looked about the room inquiringly, then went to the
-window and pulled up the blind. The moon was high in the heavens, and
-the light streamed down upon her face, making it ghastly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Susan!&quot; cried Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But she did not heed him; she peered anxiously through the window into
-the street, shading her eyes with her hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is she asleep?&quot; whispered Ellen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know,&quot; said Dan in a troubled voice; &quot;it is dreadful to see
-her with that expression on her face.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was an expression of suppressed watchfulness; that her
-firmly-compressed lips and wandering eyes were at variance might have
-been due to the peculiar circumstances of her life; but in the cunning
-and revengeful determination in her face there was no sign of
-indecision. It was as though she had staked her life on the
-accomplishment of a task.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As she turned from the window and approached Dan, he seized her hand.
-&quot;Susan,&quot; he said, gently, &quot;speak to me, my dear. What is the meaning
-of this?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She laid her hand upon his head, and said, &quot;Poor Dan! And you loved
-her, and she is lost to you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not lost, Susey,&quot; he said, detaining her hand and humoring her, for
-he was afraid that her reason was gone; &quot;not lost. She will come
-back.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She will never come back--never, never! When she hears that <i>he</i> is
-dead--he is lying dead up stairs, Dan--she will never come back; she
-will drown herself first; for she loved him, and me too; and would
-have loved you, Dan, but for that false-hearted friend.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You must not say that, Susey,&quot; said Dan, pointing to Ellen, who had
-turned aside weeping. &quot;Look at Ellen. He is her husband, and he is not
-false-hearted. For her sake you must have kinder, juster thoughts
-towards Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Susan did not catch the sense of his words. All that she
-understood was, that he was speaking in defence of Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All in his favor,&quot; she muttered. &quot;If any one is to blame, it is
-Minnie--that's what all of you will say. But I know better; I know
-better. Didn't I watch them? Didn't I see him making love to her on
-the ship? Didn't I see the poor dear that's lying dead up stairs
-tortured slowly to death? And don't I know who killed him?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who, Susan, who?&quot; asked Dan, holding his breath.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Joshua Marvel,&quot; said Susan, between her set teeth, with no change
-upon her face. &quot;And as God's my judge, I will bring him to justice!
-You are his friends--I know that: you'll try to hide him from me; but
-I'll do what I've made up my mind to, if I drop down dead the minute
-after.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She twisted her hand from Dan's grasp, and crept slowly into the
-passage, and thence into the street. And there she stood for many
-minutes, with the same expression of implacable animosity on her face,
-waiting for the return of Basil Kindred's murderer.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXVII.</h4>
-
-<h5>WHAT THE NEIGHBORS THINK OF IT.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The events that have been described, proved to be something
-more than
-a nine-days' wonder. The neighborhood was remarkably bare of exciting
-incidents, and nothing so stirring as the sudden death of Basil
-Kindred and the flight of Minnie had happened within the memory of the
-oldest inhabitant. Besides that, there was one element in the
-occurrences which, above all others, added zest and flavor to
-them--this was the element of mystery. Here was a family, which might
-be looked upon as the most respected family in the neighborhood; for
-there was no question about the position held by the Marvels. Every
-one of the neighbors liked them, and every one of the neighbors had a
-good word for them. They had lived in the neighborhood--they and their
-fathers and grandfathers before them--for many scores of years, and no
-shadow of reproach had ever rested upon a single member of the family.
-They had always been steady, industrious, and sober, and had been held
-up as examples, time out of mind, by wives to their husbands, and
-parents to their children. They were homely, hospitable, and sociable,
-and, although they might very well have done it, had never held their
-heads above their fellows. If any male acquaintance wanted a word of
-advice, he went to Mr. Marvel for it; and the advice received was
-generally found to be sound, and was always admitted to be good. If
-any one was sick, Mrs. Marvel always came forward to help and assist,
-in her small way, and was always ready to sit up of a night if it were
-necessary, and to do some portion of the household work if it were
-needed. And what she did was done so unostentatiously and quietly
-that it never left a sting behind it, and never--strange as it may
-sound--elicited any thing but gratitude. Joshua was a model of a son,
-and the neighbors had been proud of him. Take them for all in all, the
-Marvels were a credit to the locality. And yet, as you shall presently
-see, notwithstanding their irreproachable character, notwithstanding
-the credit in which they were held, notwithstanding that they were
-famous for all the virtues under the sun, a very remarkable change was
-to take place in the estimation in which they were held.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then as to the Taylors. There had been many transitions of feeling
-regarding them when the parents were alive. They had not been a credit
-to the neighborhood. The meek uncomplaining life which Mrs. Taylor had
-led had been entirely lost sight of in the drunken dissolute habits of
-the head of the family. Perhaps it was because of this bad conduct on
-the part of Mr. Taylor that the virtues of the good wife had not been
-taken into account; and the fact remained, that it was not until after
-Mr. Taylor's death--the manner of which was disgraceful, and left a
-blot upon the family name--that any strong affection was mingled with
-the pity with which Dan and Ellen were regarded. There were so many
-singular circumstances connected with the family history. First, there
-was Susan letting Dan fall out of the window when he was a baby and
-breaking his legs. Many of the neighbors, with young families of their
-own, remembered the time when they were boys and girls, and when Susan
-was twitted and jeered at for being Dan's murderer. Then Susan's
-strange manner and slovenly dress--not it must be admitted, that her
-slovenliness had very much to do with the feeling,--had not rendered
-her a favorite; and she was often spoken of as being soft and not
-quite right in her mind.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then came that part of Mr. Taylor's career when (it having been
-whispered about that he had been the death of his wife) he fell into
-deeper and deeper dissipation, and when he was to be seen regularly
-every night tumbling out of the public-house, and reeling home in a
-state of intoxication. It is surprising how hard many wives, whose
-husbands were not quite free from the reproach of over-indulgence,
-were upon the failings of Mr. Taylor. He was a &quot;drunken beast,&quot; a
-&quot;disgrace to the street,&quot; and so forth. And yet, as you have seen,
-they were proud of the beautiful friendship that existed between Dan
-and Joshua, and appreciated the good conduct of Ellen from the time
-that she was big enough--she was young enough, Heaven knows, when her
-duties commenced--to assist in the cleaning and washing. But the
-father's drunken habits stained the family reputation, and not all the
-washing and wringing could wash it clean at that time. Then came the
-shameful death of the drunkard. From the date of that occurrence, the
-position of the family began to improve, and the engagement of Ellen
-and Joshua lifted them up still further in the estimation of their
-neighbors.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Lastly, there were Basil Kindred and Minnie. Neither of them had ever
-been favorites out of their own small circle. Basil Kindred had held
-his head above them, and Minnie was too much of a lady for &quot;such poor
-folks as us.&quot; All the grown-up girls disliked her because she was
-superior to them, and because she did not associate with them.
-Therefore neither father nor daughter obtained sympathy, and there was
-very little pity expressed for Basil's death. As for Minnie, she was
-generally condemned. The neighbors in speaking of her and her flight
-said, &quot;she was always a forward thing;&quot; and some even went so far as
-to call her a &quot;stuck-up slut.&quot; They never expected any thing better of
-her, not they.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The mystery was, how it all became known; for it was known, every
-detail of it, the day following that on which Basil Kindred had died.
-Every person, for about a dozen streets round about, knew all the
-particulars almost as soon as Mr. and Mrs. Marvel were made acquainted
-with them--knew that Minnie had run away, knew that she was in Joshua
-Marvel's ship, knew that the intelligence of the flight had caused her
-father's death. Then they began to be wise in their generation, after
-the usual manner of human herds, and before nightfall of the second
-day it was recognized as an established fact, that it had been a
-cunningly-planned plot from first to last, and that Joshua and Minnie
-had run away together.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There is no accounting for these revulsions of feeling, and it is
-perhaps best not to attempt to analyze them. So much small malice and
-miserable uncharitableness would be brought to light, that we should
-be ashamed of the exposure--being liable to such influences ourselves.
-Joshua's character had hitherto been irreproachable; he had been
-almost loved by many, and liked and admired by all. Suddenly he is
-tainted by suspicion, and by suspicion only. There is not a tittle of
-direct evidence against him. But the suspicion is enough; directly it
-is whispered, it swells and grows, like the cloud which is at first
-&quot;no bigger than a man's hand,&quot; and Joshua's good name is wrecked in
-the storm that follows.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The additional grief that this general verdict inflicted upon Joshua's
-parents may easily be imagined. They had to learn that &quot;slander's edge
-is sharper than the sword,&quot; and that though their dear son were
-&quot;chaste as ice and pure as snow, he should not escape calumny.&quot; But
-they did not receive these lessons meekly. They fought and protested
-against them with all the strength of their loving souls. They might
-as well have tried to stop a fierce wind with the palms of their
-hands.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">One of their bitterest experiences was the knowledge that there was a
-difference of sentiment between them. They did not all believe alike.
-All of them, except Susan, believed alike in the innocence and purity
-of Joshua; but not so with respect to Minnie. The mercy that Dan and
-Ellen accorded to her was denied to her by Mr. and Mrs. Marvel.
-Neither of them thought well of her; and although Mrs. Marvel's
-verdict was less harsh than that of her husband, she too, gentle and
-forgiving as was her nature, could not forgive and hold dear the
-unhappy girl who had brought this great misery upon them. What Minnie
-had done was nothing less than a crime in the eyes of the good mother
-and good woman.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Minnie had one champion--Susan. It was generally reported, a few
-days after the tragic occurrence, that Susan had gone mad because of
-Basil Kindred's death; and a whisper went about, that, mad as she was,
-she was fixed to the one idea of bringing Joshua to justice. Susan's
-madness, if madness it was, took a very mild form. She did not speak
-upon the subject, but she believed thoroughly in Minnie's innocence
-and Joshua's guilt; and she was ever on the watch to bring that false
-friend to justice. She was always peering about her and hunting for
-Joshua. She contracted a strange habit of suspecting that he was
-biding in the place she last left, and when she went out of the house,
-returned, after going a few paces, to see if the man she was waiting
-for was in the passage. If she opened a gate and shut it behind her,
-she walked back to it and looked about her, expectant. Never a night
-passed but she rose from her bed and went into the street, waiting for
-Joshua; in the dead of night, when all others were asleep, she would
-sit at her window and look into the street, waiting patiently. When
-they discovered this habit at home, they tried to break her of it; but
-their efforts were unavailing. By and by, this proceeding began to be
-exceedingly popular in the neighborhood, and popular opinion veered
-round to Susan's view; Minnie was not so thoroughly condemned, and the
-blame was entirely laid on Joshua's shoulders. And when the neighbors
-openly expressed their sympathy to Mr. Marvel because Joshua had
-&quot;turned out bad,&quot; he resented it angrily in his dogmatic obstinate
-way, until he began to quarrel with them. He was so indignant, so
-hurt, so unhappy, that he refused to speak to his old acquaintances,
-and gradually they fell off from him, and a coldness sprang up which
-made his life a misery. Still, he and all that were bound to him
-cherished the hope that when Joshua came home all would be cleared up.
-But Mr. Marvel made up his mind that he would never forgive his
-neighbors for their suspicions. Months passed, and the estrangement
-between him and his acquaintances grew stronger; his home, too, was
-not a happy one. He grew morose and ill-tempered, and would not speak
-to his wife upon the subject of Joshua and Minnie; and when she found
-that he was determined upon this point, she wisely forbore to press
-him, knowing his nature.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Before the advent of another spring, Ellen became a mother. Her
-situation had been concealed from all but Dan and Mrs. Marvel; even
-Mr. Marvel did not know it until the child was born. It was a girl;
-and when the news was buzzed about the neighborhood, Joshua and Minnie
-started again into a notoriety which had been on the wane. Again the
-busybodies were at work, and again the busy tongues wagged more
-volubly than before. It was a matter for resentment with the neighbors
-that they had not been made acquainted with Ellen's situation; it was
-depriving them of a legitimate privilege. But Ellen and her two
-confidants had kept the secret well; and now the young mother nursed
-her child in privacy, and seemed only anxious to keep it from prying
-and unsympathizing eyes. No news had been received of Joshua or of his
-ship; and although Mr. Marvel went every other day to the London
-agents of the &quot;Merry Andrew,&quot; they had nothing to tell him. Now that
-the child was born, their anxiety for news of Joshua increased. But
-still they received none. Weeks passed, months passed, until the
-suspense became almost maddening. Ellen nursed the baby, and rejoiced
-that the pretty little thing had Joshua's eyes, and yearned for Joshua
-to see them. Mr. Marvel looked more angrily upon his old
-acquaintances, who were ready to quarrel with him afresh for his sour
-looks. Mrs. Marvel suffered in patience, and strove by assumed
-cheerfulness to lighten the loads the others had to bear. Susan waited
-and watched. And Dan waited and hoped--When there came a time!--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen was in Mrs. Marvel's kitchen; her baby was in her lap, and she
-was gazing at and worshipping, for the thousandth thousandth time, the
-baby's beautiful eyes, and beautiful fingers and nails, and the round
-cheeks, and the pretty mouth and chin, so like Joshua's. It was
-evening, and Mr. Marvel was expected home every minute, with news
-from the agents about Joshua's ship. Ellen began singing this to
-baby--singing in a low soft voice how father would soon come from over
-the seas to see his own little darling--his dear darling precious; and
-she was in the midst of this, enriching the theme with twenty
-different forms of endearing expression, when Mr. Marvel staggered
-into the kitchen. There was a wild look in his face, and his hands
-were trembling. He was drunk.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O father!&quot; cried Ellen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where's mother?&quot; he asked in a husky voice. &quot;Where's mother?&quot; he
-repeated in a louder tone.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">His wife answered the question by coming into the kitchen. She had
-seen him reel into the house, and had followed him at once. She knew
-he had been drinking, but she did not reproach him. He saw in her face
-the knowledge and the forbearance, and he said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I've been drinking; I was bound to. O mother, mother! how shall
-I tell you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Her lips framed some words, but she could not utter them. She sank
-into a chair and gazed at him with blanched cheek, with quivering
-lips, with blurred eyes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Hush, baby, hush! you have never seen your father's face, and you do
-not understand now what one day will be told you--what George Marvel
-has had to drink brandy to give him courage to tell his faithful
-wife--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That the good ship, the &quot;Merry Andrew,&quot; has foundered, and that every
-soul on board, Joshua and Minnie included, has gone down to the bottom
-of the sea. Not one saved--not one.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h4>
-
-<h5>ON BOARD THE &quot;MERRY ANDREW.&quot;</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">While the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; was lying at Blackwell taking in
-cargo, Capt.
-Liddle, like the shrewd captain he was, had caused it to be notified
-that he would be happy to take a certain number of passengers to the
-New World at fifty pounds per head. It happened, as it usually happens
-in such like cases, that just at that time the exact number of persons
-that the ship could accommodate found either that Great Britain was
-too crowded for them to move freely in, or that at length the hour had
-arrived for them to make a fresh start in life. The captain of the
-&quot;Merry Andrew&quot; offered them the necessary opportunity. His ship would
-take them to a country where they would be able to turn without being
-elbowed. And there was no doubt that the start they contemplated would
-be a fresh one, inasmuch as in the new land their heads would be where
-their feet were now, and night was day and day night, and cherries
-grew with their stones outside, and many other wonders were
-commonplaces of every-day life. Accordingly, these enterprising souls,
-much to Capt. Liddle's satisfaction, paid their fifty pounds per head
-for four months of quiet misery on the sea. By that stroke of business
-Capt. Liddle served two purposes. He put money in his pocket as chief
-owner of the vessel, and he provided society for his wife, who was to
-accompany him on the voyage. Mrs. Liddle was a cheerful little body,
-who, although she was thirty years of age, had as much sentiment as a
-tender-hearted miss of eighteen. Her engagement with Capt. Liddle had
-been a long one. It was now more than twelve years since she first saw
-him and fell in love with him, as he did with her; but she happened to
-be blessed in a father who entertained not uncommon ideas as to the
-value of money, and as to the difference it made in a man, especially
-in a man who presumed to fall in love with his daughter. At that time
-Capt. Liddle was only second mate, and his matrimonial overtures were
-pooh-poohed by Capt. Prue, which was the name and title of his wife's
-father; Bessie Prue was hers. Capt. Prue (retired from the service)
-declared that he loved sailors and loved the sea, and that nothing
-would please him better than that his Bessie should marry a sailor.
-But then, that sailor must be a captain, he declared, and that captain
-must be absolute owner of the ship he commanded. Having passed the
-principal part of his life on sea, in a position where his word was
-law, he was, as most old sea-captains are, intolerant of opposition.
-Having given the word, he would not depart from it. Consequently,
-second-mate Liddle found that all his arguments and rhapsodies were as
-wind--a fluid which is much more useful at sea than on land, however
-it is produced. Bessie, as it proved, possessed a goodly share of her
-old father's determination of character. Having fallen in love with
-second-mate Liddle, and having determined to marry him or die an old
-maid, she informed her lover that if he would be faithful to her, she
-would be faithful to him--a form of declaration which has been very
-popular from time immemorial. The pledge being sealed by the
-infatuated ones in the usual manner--that is, with much protestation,
-with much unnecessary solemnity, (as if they were doomed to execution,
-and were to be beheaded within a few hours), with many kisses and
-tender embracings--Bessie went to her father and apprised him,
-melodramatically, of her determination.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You wouldn't marry without my consent?&quot; was the obstinate old
-captain's question, after a little consideration. They were absurdly
-happy, these two determined persons. Bessie was the apple of his eye,
-the pride of his heart; she had not a wish, except the wish
-matrimonial, that he would not have made any sacrifice to satisfy.
-&quot;You wouldn't marry without my consent, my pretty?&quot; he repeated
-anxiously, for she did not answer his question immediately.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I won't, on one condition,&quot; replied Bessie categorically; &quot;and that
-is, that you won't ask me or wish me, or try to persuade me to marry
-anybody but John Liddle; for I love him with all my heart, and I
-wouldn't give him up--no, not to be made Lord High Admiral.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I give you my promise, my pretty,&quot; said Capt. Prue, secretly admiring
-his daughter's determination, and loving her the more for it; &quot;I'll
-never ask you, nor wish you, nor try to persuade you to marry anybody
-but John Liddle.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It may be guessed how willingly the old sea-captain gave the pledge,
-when it is known that he looked forward with absolute dread to the
-time when Bessie might be taken from him to another home. He would
-give her any thing, help her to anything but a husband. What right had
-any body else to her? Why, the ship would go on the rocks without her
-&quot;And when John Liddle is skipper and owns a ship,&quot; he added, &quot;I'll
-give my consent free and willing.&quot; In which last words Capt. Prue was
-not quite ingenuous. But the compact was made and adhered to.
-Second-mate Liddle was informed of it, and was compelled to abide by it.
-He trusted to chance, as many other men, not lovers, have done before
-him; and he derived consolation from the thought, that when Capt. Prue
-and Bessie pledged their word, it would need something very
-extraordinary and unlooked-for to induce them to break it. He rose
-from second mate to first mate, from first mate to skipper; and when
-he returned from his voyages, he found Bessie faithful and true, and
-received a hearty welcome from her father. And during these long and
-many years of probation, he learned to love his true-hearted little
-woman more deeply than he had done at first; she taught him to
-understand what love really was; she taught him the true beauty of it,
-the holiness of it--that it was something more than a sentiment,
-something higher than a passion; she taught him to understand that it
-was a sacrament.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It seems fated for this story, that its narration should necessitate,
-for the most part, the depicting of the higher virtues, and what is
-most noble and self-sacrificing in our natures. But it should be none
-the less acceptable because of that.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A short time after Bessie's lover became skipper, a relative of his
-died, and left him some money. Directly he came into possession of it,
-he bought a share in the &quot;Merry Andrew.&quot; Bessie was then twenty-six
-years of age, as pretty as ever, and as fresh at heart as ever. One
-would have thought that her father would have spoken to her of his own
-accord, there and then, and that he would have given her the reward of
-her faithfulness and devotion. But the truth must be told; he was a
-selfish old curmudgeon, and he trembled at the thought of losing her.
-So once more Capt. Liddle sailed away from his lady-love on the voyage
-in which our Joshua commenced his apprenticeship at sea. The &quot;Merry
-Andrew&quot; was away, as you know, for more than four years; and when it
-returned, and Capt. Liddle went to see his Bessie, he found her in
-mourning. Her father was dead. Before he died he had made her the only
-reparation in his power. The last codicil to his will, written a few
-weeks before his death, contained expressions of his love for her, his
-admiration of her lover, his consent to their marriage, and his regret
-that he had not consented to it years ago. But it is so easy to regret
-<i>after</i> a thing has occurred which we might have prevented or
-remedied. I have not yet made up my mind as to the value of deathbed
-repentance. Neither am I satisfied that we may sin properly for six
-days in the week, in a comfortable knowledge that we can evade the
-penalty by crying, &quot;I have sinned!&quot; on the sabbath.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">However, the departed Captain Prue had been in all other respects a
-kind and tender father, and no word of reproach passed the lips of
-Bessie and John Liddle. They were not too old for the enjoyment of
-life's blessings. Two months before the present sailing of the &quot;Merry
-Andrew&quot; they were married; and it is not to be doubted that the
-circumstances of their engagement promised them a lasting happiness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mrs. Liddle had a maid, a beautiful brown-complexioned girl, whose
-appearance might have suggested some suspicion of a gypsy breed, had
-it not been for her manners, which showed a refinement no gypsy-girl
-could have acquired in her vagrant life, and for her eyes, which were
-gray despite their brightness. The circumstances of her becoming Mrs.
-Liddle's maid were somewhat peculiar. She had presented herself to
-that lady a few days before the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; sailed, and stating
-that she had heard by accident that Mrs. Liddle wanted a maid to
-accompany her on the voyage, asked to be engaged in that capacity.
-There was something so winsome about the girl, that Mrs. Liddle--who
-had not succeeded in engaging a maid willing to brave the terrors of a
-sea-voyage--was at once attracted to her, and lent a sympathizing ear
-to her story of being alone in the world and without friends. Perhaps
-it was Mrs. Liddle's romantic happiness that caused her to be less
-prudent than usual; but certain it is that the girl was engaged, and,
-setting about her duties at once, proved so apt and attentive, that
-Mrs. Liddle congratulated herself upon her decision. Captain Liddle
-did not interfere in the matter; but when he first saw the girl her
-face seemed familiar to him, and he glanced at her more than once,
-wondering where he had met her. But he could not settle the doubt, and
-the matter was not of sufficient importance to permanently engage his
-attention. Thus it was that Minnie succeeded in obtaining a passage in
-the &quot;Merry Andrew,&quot; and in being near to the man who was dearer to her
-than all other earthly considerations. She was not influenced by any
-dishonoring passion; she simply desired not to be parted from the man
-she loved. She did not want him to see her or speak to her--at least,
-so she thought at that time; it was sufficient for her to know that
-she was in the same ship with him, and that she would perhaps now and
-again catch a glimpse of her hero, without his knowing that she was
-by. When she first made up her mind to leave her home, she did not
-pause to consider what would be the consequences of her rash act. She
-was unhappy there and utterly miserable; everybody was against her;
-and when she discovered, as she did discover, that Susan was playing
-the spy upon her, she became defiant and more resolved. She loved her
-father and honored him; but she loved Joshua with all the passion of
-her passionate nature, and in her mistaken sense of right and wrong,
-the stronger love usurped the place of duty, and made her oblivious of
-all else. She was blinded by love, and by love in which there was not
-a shade of impure passion.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She had had at first a wild idea of dressing herself in sailor's
-clothes, and had saved a few shillings towards the purchasing of them;
-but her success with Mrs. Liddle set that aside. When she went on to
-the ship with her mistress, she was careful that Joshua should not see
-her; but indeed, if they had met face to face at that time, it is not
-likely that he would have recognized her in her disguise; for his
-thoughts were with Ellen, and his heart was too full as yet to be
-curious about the passengers. But the Lascar saw her, and was puzzled
-about her directly he set eyes upon her face. He watched her like a
-cat, and yet he could not make up his mind about her. He had seen her
-often in Stepney, but he could scarcely believe that the fair girl
-with the beautiful hair and this dark gypsy with the short curls were
-one and the same. He knew her name and all about her from Solomon
-Fewster, and he was quite ready to believe in the villainy of Joshua.
-Resolved to make sure of the value of his suspicions, he contrived to
-pass close by her as she was taking some bandboxes down stairs to the
-saloon, and as he passed her, he muttered the name of &quot;Minnie
-Kindred.&quot; A start, a frightened look over her shoulders, and the
-dropping of the bandboxes down the stairs, were sufficient
-confirmation of his doubts; and before the pilot left the ship he gave
-him a scrawl for Solomon Fewster to the effect that Joshua and Minnie
-had run away together. He was cautious enough also to send upon
-another piece of paper a private scrawl to Solomon Fewster, saying he
-was not quite sure, but that Fewster would know how to act if Minnie
-were missing from home.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But when the Lascar next saw Minnie's face, which was not until the
-&quot;Merry Andrew&quot; was a thousand miles the other side of the Bay of
-Biscay, his doubts returned, and he thought that, after all, he must
-have been mistaken. He did not know the cunning of Minnie. In the
-startled glance she had thrown over her shoulder when her name was
-pronounced, she had marked the Lascar's face, so that she was sure she
-would know it again; and when, after the lapse of weeks, she detected
-him gazing at at her, she looked at him so boldly and contemptuously
-that he drooped his eyes before her. What added to his perplexity was,
-that he never saw Joshua speak to her, never saw him look at her. When
-she came on deck, which she did very rarely, and never unless her duty
-to her mistress called her there, she was careful not to give Joshua
-an opportunity of speaking to her or of looking closely at her; and
-he, detecting in her manner a wish to avoid any little attention he
-might have it in his mind to offer her, did not trouble himself even
-by giving her a thought. She was as distant and reserved to all the
-officers; and in a little while it began to be understood, that the
-handsome gypsy-maid did not wish to be spoken to by any one on board
-but her mistress; and her wish was scrupulously respected.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">To readers who are not well acquainted with ship-life, it may seem
-strange that Minnie should have been able to keep herself so free from
-observation; but there really can be--and there often is--as much
-exclusiveness on board a passenger-ship as there is in society on
-land. You may live in a ship for months, and travel for thousands upon
-thousands of miles over the seemingly interminable waste of waters,
-without having any more personal knowledge of those who sleep within a
-few yards of you than you would have of them if you and they were
-living at the extreme ends of a great city. When the long, long voyage
-is at an end, and the ship is being piloted into the bay that skirts
-the land of Pisgah, men and women whom you do not remember ever to
-have seen before appear magically on deck; and you wonder where they
-come from, and how it is you have not set eyes on them during all the
-time that you and they have been living in the wonderful house of wood
-and iron that has brought you safely over the raging seas.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua knew the Lascar directly he saw him on board, and was not
-pleased to find that he was one of the crew. But the man did his duty,
-and worked as well and apparently as willingly as the other sailors;
-and as he was uniformly respectful, Joshua could not, even if he had
-been so inclined, treat him harshly with any sense of justice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And so the &quot;Merry Andrew,&quot; containing within its wooden walls its load
-of human love and hate, cleaves through the ocean onward to its goal
-steadily and patiently, while before it, with every new rising of the
-sun, a monotonous hill of waters, never varying, never changing, lies
-in the gray distance mocking its progress. Through cold weather,
-through hot weather, burnt up in the torrid zone, and chilled by winds
-which rush from ice-bound waters; through days when scarce a ripple
-can be seen on the grand ocean's breast, and others when the waves
-leap at its throat furiously, as an enemy might do; through nights
-when the moon rises threateningly in the heavens, like a blazing ball
-of lurid fire, suggesting thoughts of a dreadful to-morrow; and
-through dark nights, solemnly beautiful, when the track of the vessel
-is marked by the brilliant Medusæ (the sailor's girdle of Venus) which
-gleam and shine--a line of living light--in the wondrous sea: through
-all these, with unerring faith, the ship pursues its way steadily and
-patiently to the garden of the world. Now the captain smells the
-breeze, and hoarse cries, unintelligible to all but the initiated,
-travel about the ship to clap on sail and make good use of the breath
-of Boreas. Then the ship dashes on like a god drunk with joy, dives
-into awful depths, and climbs water-mountains that a moment ago
-threatened to fall in upon it and dash it to pieces. The curling seas
-break over the deck, and the toilers that are battling with wind and
-wave cling fast for dear life to ropes and spars; while ever and anon
-a water-titan, more angry than his fellows, breaks against the side
-with such tremendous force that the vessel reels and quivers beneath
-the mighty shock. So! the breeze slackens and dies away; the anger of
-the sea subsides, and after many days the ship is becalmed. Then the
-passengers lie about the white deck in happy indolence, and muse and
-dream of the great whale they saw a while ago, hung round with
-sea-weed and barnacles; of the cloudless night, star-gemmed above and
-below; of the beautiful Southern Cross and the strange Magellan
-clouds; and while they muse and dream, the white sky stares down
-lazily into blue peaceful waters. Every one on board is contented with
-the change, excepting the skipper, who paces the deck restlessly and
-prays for the breeze to spring up--taking advantage of the calm,
-however, like the good skipper he is, to splice ropes, and make new
-sails and mend old ones. Soon wind and water wake into life again, and
-the waves sparkle, and the fresh breeze blows merrily, when a sudden
-cry rings through the ship that a man is overboard. The next moment
-every soul on board is bending over the bulwarks, watching the
-retreating form of the sailor who is floating on his back, gazing with
-agonizing dread at the cruel beaks of the swan-white albatrosses,
-which are already hovering above him. Quickly the ship is put about; a
-boat, with rowers in it, is lowered into the sea; and after the lapse
-of many anxious moments a wild cheer rings through the air, as the man
-saved from death, is dragged into the boat. He tells afterwards to
-eager listeners--he is a notable man on board from that day forth--how
-it seemed to him that he was floating on his back for full a day, and
-how the only fear he felt was that the albatrosses would pick out his
-eyes. Then the following week a young man died who was in a
-consumption when he was first brought on to the ship, and who had
-hoped that the warm breezes of the South would give him a new lease of
-life; but he was never to breathe the balmy southern air. The little
-colony of human beings is very sad when the funeral service is read
-over the body, and the canvas coffin slips with a dull thud into the
-sea; and a fear arises that some calamity is near. And surely that
-night there is a fearful storm. The wind howls and roars; heavy seas
-dash down the two men at the wheel; the sails split into a thousand
-shreds; masts and spars crack like reeds. The sobs and lamentations of
-the passengers are dreadful to bear. Minnie, creeping from her cabin
-into the saloon, sees a dozen men and women, half-dressed, on their
-knees, praying for mercy and forgiveness, making vows of reformation,
-and indulging in all the fear-impelled evidences of a suddenly
-awakened contrition. Pursued by the conviction that in a few minutes
-she and all in the ship will meet their doom, she yearns with all her
-soul to see Joshua, to touch him, to whisper in his ear that Minnie is
-by his side. Then, if he will but take her hand, she will be content
-to go down with him into the solemn depths of the awful sea. She
-creeps to the wet stairs leading to the deck, only to find that the
-hatches are fastened down, and that she is a prisoner. She tears at
-the cruel door that separates her from Joshua, until her fingers bleed
-and her strength gives way. She calls aloud to him, but she cannot
-hear her own voice, so weak is it and so overwhelming is the roar of
-the storm. She sinks, despairing, at the foot of the stairs, and in
-the agony of her mind and the terror of the time so entirely loses
-consciousness, that the cold waters which steal down the hatchway are
-powerless to arouse her. But with the next rising of the sun the storm
-has passed away, and the captain looks joyful, and the sailors sing
-blithely at their work, and the passengers forget their vows of
-reformation. So the ship sails on and on, until land is sighted, and
-the passengers begin to prepare their best clothes to go on shore in.
-Then comes a quiet evening when the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; drops quietly down
-the beautiful bay, and as evening deepens into night, a thousand
-twinkling lights from distant hills welcome the wanderers and gladden
-their hearts. How peaceful, how lovely, is the night! The balmy air,
-the restful sound of dipping oars, the floating strains of music that
-come from a neighboring ship, the beautiful star-lit waters--all these
-bring grateful feelings to weary travellers, and silent prayers of
-thankfulness arise to Heaven for the mercy that has brought them
-safely through the perils of the mighty sea.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXIX.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE WRECK OF THE &quot;MERRY ANDREW.&quot;</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Built in the bed of a beautiful valley and on gardened slopes
-rising
-from the waters which run to the sea, lies Sydney, the fair city of
-the South. It is spring although the month is October. The heavens are
-bright with bright clouds, the air is sweet with perfume from tree and
-flower, the bay is gemmed with gardened isles and promontories.
-Outside the heads which protect the bay and make it a safe refuge for
-mighty fleets, the sea dashes against hoary rocks which stand defiant
-of its wrath; but to-day, swayed by the influence of smiling sun and
-cloud, the grim old walls sport with the huge waves, splinter them
-into silver spray, and send them, laughing, back into the sea.
-In the fair land girt by the blue waters of the South Pacific are
-orange-groves, the fragrance of whose snow-white blossoms is in
-harmony with the time and place, and coral-trees with bright scarlet
-flower, and trees of peach, loquat, and bread, and hill-slopes where
-the vines grow, and myriad other evidences of Nature's beneficence.
-All things that see the light contribute to the beauty of spring.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis the garden of the world,&quot; said Captain Liddle to his wife, as
-they stood apart from the others on board the &quot;Merry Andrew;&quot; &quot;'tis
-the garden of the world,&quot; he repeated, gazing at the lovely hills and
-gloriously-tinted sky with that sense of gratitude which it is so good
-for a man to experience.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Her thoughts were in harmony with his, but she did not answer him
-immediately. She, too, was sensible of the beautiful scene around
-them, and stood by his side in silent thankfulness. To-morrow, the
-&quot;Merry Andrew,&quot; having discharged her cargo, and taken in another
-(chiefly hard wood), was to set sail for China, where she had a
-charter for London. It was of London--of home--that the captain's wife
-was thinking, and presently her thoughts found simple expression.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, John,&quot; she said; &quot;it is indeed a garden--a beautiful garden; but
-it is not home.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why now, Bessie,&quot; said the captain, looking down smilingly upon the
-wife he had waited and worked for as anxiously as Jacob did for
-Rachel, &quot;could you not content yourself here?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All my life, John?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All your life, my dear.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; she said without hesitation; &quot;I should always be pining for
-home. Even if we were poor, and it were a necessity that we should
-live here, I don't think I could manage to quite content myself. But
-as it is&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As it is, Bessie&quot;--repeated her husband, in secret delight at his
-wife's enthusiasm.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As it is, John,&quot; she responded softly, &quot;'there's no place like
-home.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Captain Liddle hummed a few bars of the Englishman's household hymn;
-and then, looking to that part of the ship where Joshua was busy,
-said: &quot;There is some one on board, Bessie, who is even more anxious to
-get home than you are.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who can that be, John?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My handsome mate, as you call him, Joshua Marvel. He was expressing
-his delight to me yesterday that we should be not away longer than we
-thought we should when we started. And when I asked him what made him
-so impatient to get home, he told me that he was married three days
-before we left Gravesend. How would <i>you</i> have liked that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I wouldn't have allowed you to go,&quot; said Mrs. Liddle, with a very
-positive shake of the head.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Easily said, little woman; not so easily managed, though, if I had
-been third mate instead of captain. Thank your stars that you married
-a captain.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So I do, John,&quot; said Mrs. Liddle tenderly--so tenderly, that her
-husband would have stooped and kissed her, if they had been alone.
-&quot;Was it a love-match?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Marvel's? Certainly, I should say. When I went to his house in London
-to see him, I saw a very beautiful girl in his room. Perhaps it is to
-her that he is married.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Very beautiful, sir?&quot; exclaimed Mrs. Liddle, with a toss of her head.
-&quot;I am almost inclined to take you to task for that; but I'll ask you,
-instead, to describe her.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can't, Bess; 'tis not in my line. I tell you what, though: your
-maid would be like her, if she was fair instead of brown, and if she
-had long hair.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Making eyes at my maid, sir!&quot; cried Mrs. Liddle, with a pretty
-wilfulness. &quot;When I get you home, I shall lock you up.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Captain Liddle laughed, and pinched his wife's cheek.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am glad it was a love-match,&quot; she said; &quot;I like Mr. Marvel all the
-better for that. You ought to do something for him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I shouldn't be surprised, Bessie, if Marvel was second mate on our
-next voyage,&quot; was the captain's reply. &quot;Now go and see to the stowing
-away of your curiosities.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">During the time that the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; had been lying in Sydney
-Harbor, Mrs. Liddle and her gypsy maid had been living on shore, and
-had only come on board today. Her husband's last remark referred to a
-number of parcels which were scattered about the poop, containing
-curiosities she had collected in that strange new world--such as
-feathers and skins, and curious weapons and plants--designed to
-astonish her friends at home.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Captain Liddle's intention to promote Joshua had been quietly
-whispered by the sailors to one another for some weeks past, although
-the captain, from motives of prudence and a proper regard for
-discipline, had made no mention of his intention, even to his wife,
-until now. Captain Liddle respected Joshua, and often engaged him in
-familiar conversation. He saw much to admire in the young sailor, and
-recognized in him qualities, both intellectual and professional, of a
-far higher standard than those exhibited by his other officers. A
-sailor more deeply impressed than Joshua was with the highest
-qualification a sailor can possess, duty, never walked the deck of a
-ship; and this merit, added to a quick natural intelligence, made him
-a great favorite with Captain Liddle. He was much liked, also, by the
-sailors; for while his sense of duty made him firm, his kindliness of
-heart made him gentle. Sailors resemble women in one particular: the
-more they respect a man, the better they like him. Joshua, however,
-had two bitter enemies on board: one was the Lascar, who was compelled
-to conceal his hate; other was the second mate, Scadbolt by name, who
-made no secret of his animosity. Scadbolt, being both an inefficient
-officer and one who liked to shirk his work, had been sharply spoken
-to by Captain Liddle on several occasions. From this may have sprung
-the rumor of his intended deposition; and when it reached his ears, it
-made him venomous. Between Scadbolt and the Lascar about this time
-there sprang up a kind of intelligence with regard to Joshua, which
-boded him no good if he should chance to get into their power. No
-conversation passed between them on the subject; but each knew
-instinctively that the other hated the upstart third mate of the
-&quot;Merry Andrew.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With his usual foresight and shrewdness, Captain Liddle had announced
-his readiness to take a small number of passengers to China, or to
-London by way of China--rather a roundabout route home, it must be
-confessed, but one which recommended itself to certain colonists from
-its novelty, and from the opportunity it afforded them of seeing
-something of the wonderful land where so many Sons of the Moon lived
-and had their being. Captain Liddle knew what he was about by stating
-that he could provide accommodation for only a few passengers, for
-only a few took passage. Here is the way-bill:--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. and Mrs. Pigeon and daughter, the latter five years of age.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Bracegirdle.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Stephen and Rachel Homebush, brother and sister.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">James Heartsease.</p>
-<p class="normal">Harry Wall.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So that there were nine passengers in all, including little Emma
-Pigeon.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The crew numbered twenty-eight persons, all told; and these, with the
-passengers and the captain's wife and her maid, made the total number
-of souls on board thirty-nine.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Pigeon was the son of a wealthy squatter, who had lately died.
-Desirous of giving his wife and child better advantages than could be
-obtained in the colony, he had sold out his property, and was now on
-his way home, for the purpose of settling in the &quot;old country.&quot; He was
-a rough kind of a gentleman at the best, as might be expected of one
-who had been brought up in the bush; but he had a tender heart, and
-was passionately devoted to his wife and child. Mrs. Pigeon was a
-sparkling little creature, full of life and bustle, never still, and
-with a laugh so merry and contagious, that every soul on board felt
-glad when it was first heard on the ship. Little Emma, as the child
-was called, was a small edition of her mother, with precisely the same
-natural gayety of disposition. The family were in high glee at the
-prospect of going &quot;home&quot; (even Little Emma, born in the bush, had been
-taught so to call it), and found in the pleasures of imagination some
-compensation for the natural sorrow they felt in leaving the bright
-and beautiful land of the South.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Bracegirdle was a mystery. No one knew any thing about him; and as
-no one inquired, and he was not communicative, his antecedents could
-only be guessed at.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Stephen and Rachel Homebush were a hard-featured morose-looking
-couple, whose piety was generally recognized as unimpeachable, but
-whose good-nature was certainly open to question. And this induces the
-reflection, that it is singular how often piety and sourness go hand
-in hand. It almost seems as if, with the majority of so-called pious
-people, religious contemplation chills the generous impulse, and
-hardens the heart instead of softening it. The light of truth falls on
-them not like dew, but like a miasma.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">James Heartsease and Harry Wall are bracketed in the way-bill, as they
-were bracketed in heart. They were friends who had travelled together
-all over the world. They were enthusiastic sketchers; and it was
-whispered that they were writing a book, which caused them to be
-looked up to with a kind of veneration.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready was as great a mystery as Mr. Bracegirdle, but whereas
-nothing was known of Mr. Bracegirdle's antecedents, so many stories
-were current concerning Rough-and-Ready, that the difficulty was to
-hit upon the right one. None of them were at all creditable to him.
-One story was, that he was a bushranger; another, that he was a
-stockman, who had shot down any number of blacks; another, that he was
-a runaway convict. The name he chose to go by fitted any one or all of
-these stories. He engaged his passage in the name of Mr. Rough; but
-before he had been on board half an hour, every sailor knew him as
-Rough-and-Ready. The lady passengers cast cold looks upon him; but the
-sailors adored him; and he, taking the aversion of the women and the
-admiration of the men very philosophically, was as much at home on
-board the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; as the captain himself. Captain Liddle saw
-nothing objectionable in Rough-and-Ready. He was prone, as you know,
-to form his own judgments of people, and was one of the small minority
-of men in the world who decline to be led by the nose. There was
-nothing very smooth or polished about Rough-and-Ready, as was implied
-by his name; but he had a bright eye, a free manner, and a civil
-tongue--sufficient recommendations to Captain Liddle's good favor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At the appointed time the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; weighed anchor, and started
-for China. Joshua rubbed his hands, and thought with a light heart of
-his pretty Ellen and his friend Dan, and his old mother and father,
-and that good friend the Old Sailor. He saw himself walking along the
-familiar street in Stepney, and saw all the neighbors running out to
-greet him, and saw Ellen, his own dear little wife, fluttering into
-his arms, and nestling there as prettily as could be. What wonder that
-his face grew bright, and that he went about his work with a
-cheerfulness that brought a darker scowl into the face of the Lascar!
-This worthy had not advanced a single step towards the furtherance of
-the scheme to which he had in a sort of measure pledged himself to
-Solomon Fewster before he left Gravesend. True, he had gone on board
-the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; with the vaguest of ideas as to the manner in which
-he should be able to carry out his intentions regarding Joshua. The
-fact was, that he had been only anxious to get away from England for a
-time; the brawl in which he had been engaged and had used his knife
-was a serious one, and he was frightened for his own safety. But he
-had played his cards cunningly with Solomon Fewster, and had succeeded
-in extracting money and valuables from his cowardly master; thus
-providing for his safety, and putting money in his purse at the same
-time. Joshua had kept a sharp eye upon him during the whole of the
-voyage, and he was compelled to be careful and wary for he knew that
-Joshua was a favorite with the captain, and that he would be clapped
-in irons upon the first sign of insubordination. Then he was
-disappointed in finding that not another sailor on board but himself
-owed Joshua a grudge, or was envious of him; so that he was alone in
-his hate until that instinctive understanding took place between him
-and the second mate Scadbolt, which made Joshua a mark for their
-mutual animosity. The Lascar would have dearly liked to do Joshua an
-ill turn; but he could not see his way to the accomplishment of his
-wish. But even from this thwarting of his desire he derived a kind of
-malicious satisfaction; for he could not help thinking with pleasure
-of the dismay and disappointment Solomon Fewster would experience when
-Joshua came home safe and sound. He could not help chuckling to
-himself as he thought, &quot;What a way he'll be in when the 'Merry Andrew'
-gets into Blackwall, and how he'll storm and swear! But he'd better
-mind what he's about with me. I owe him one for that threat of giving
-me into custody for stealing the things he gave me.&quot; Certainly no such
-sentiment as &quot;Honor among thieves&quot; found place in the breast of the
-Lascar.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And Minnie? She had not calculated the effect of living within
-herself, as she had been compelled to do. Loving Joshua as she did
-with all her heart and soul, she had deceived herself by believing
-that she would be happy if she were only in the ship with him. Happy
-she would have been, had he known her and spoken kindly to her; but
-the gulf that divided them seemed to her to be wider than it would
-have been had thousands of miles of ocean been between them. She had
-time for reflection on board ship; and reflection, although it did not
-turn the current of her love, nor lessen it, added to her misery. At
-one time during the voyage she had been so unhappy that she was almost
-on the point of throwing herself overboard; and indeed had she known
-of the marriage between Joshua and Ellen she might really have done
-so. Happily for her she was not aware of the marriage, and was spared
-the contemplated sin. But she was on a rack of love and doubt, and was
-truly unhappy in the present, and despairing in the future. She went
-about her work in a dull mechanical way, keeping aloof from every one,
-and never going on deck unless her duties called her there. Mrs.
-Liddle saw that the poor girl was miserable, and questioned her. But
-here Minnie's rebellious nature came into play; she shut her heart
-against the proffered sympathy, and returned cold answers to her
-mistress's kind questions. Mrs. Liddle was sorry, but not offended;
-she saw that the girl was struggling with a great grief. &quot;A love
-affair, depend upon it John,&quot; she said to her husband; and she
-respected Minnie's desire not to have her confidence openly intruded
-upon. Minnie's behavior on board inspired Mrs. Liddle with the
-conviction that her maid was a thoroughly good girl, and she could
-overlook a great deal in a girl who behaved so well. And
-notwithstanding Minnie's retired behavior, she was an object of
-interest to all. The officers and sailors called her &quot;the shy beauty,&quot;
-&quot;the pretty gypsy-maid,&quot; &quot;the brown-faced little beauty;&quot; and, when
-she came towards them with her eyes downcast, made way for her with
-almost as much deference as they did for the captain's wife. But she
-spoke no word to any one of them, and lived her life of self-imposed
-isolation in grief and silence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The wind was fair, and a favorable voyage was anticipated. Sail after
-sail was clapped on, and Captain Liddle walked up and down the deck
-with a beaming face and in a state of high satisfaction. Five of the
-passengers were below in the first agonies of sea-sickness. Four were
-on deck--the two friends, James Heartsease and Harry Wall, Stephen
-Homebush, and Rough-and-Ready. The friends had travelled too many
-thousands of miles upon the ocean to be troubled by sea-sickness now;
-they had struggled with and vanquished that fell enemy years ago.
-Rough-and-Ready was not the sort of man to give in; he treated
-sea-sickness as he treated every thing else that came to him in a
-threatening shape--he laughed in its face. Perhaps previous experience
-enabled him to do so with impunity. Stephen Homebush was not so
-fortunate. He had a large stock of bile, and (speaking after the
-manner of a well-known great man) when he had got rid of a great deal,
-he would have a great deal left. He certainly got rid of a great deal
-upon this occasion; and accustomed as he was to wrestle against
-yearnings of the flesh and terrible foes, this foe was too powerful
-for him, and this yearning of the flesh sent him into a deep pit of
-tribulation from which he saw no chance of escape. Some kind friend
-had advised him not to go below when he was attacked; and in
-accordance with that advice he remained on deck, possessed by a spirit
-so fiendish as not only to set at naught the pious exhortations of the
-worthy Stephen, but even to change words of piety into utterances that
-sounded very like anathemas. Even in the midst of his agony, he looked
-round for some one, as was his wont in his happier moods, upon whom to
-pour the vials of his spleen; for Stephen Homebush had this peculiar
-conviction with respect to himself. His invariable verdict when
-tribulation visited other persons was, that it was a just
-punishment--it was a visitation of the Lord. But there was no such
-acknowledgment regarding any vexation by which he was afflicted. In
-that case his opinion was, that he was suffering for the sins of
-others, and the conviction was to him a sufficient proof of his own
-worthiness and of the wickedness and unworthiness of every other
-person. He looked round for some one on whom to vent his spleen; but
-no person met his eye but Rough-and-Ready, whose merry face and
-cheerful manner were an additional sting to the miserable Stephen.
-Rough-and-Ready nodded encouragingly to the pale-faced Stephen, who
-was leaning against the bulwarks, and said cheerfully, and really from
-no ill-natured motive--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You will be better by and by, Mr. Homebush. Besides, it will do you
-good.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">These last words were unfortunately chosen; for the afflicted
-Stephen--who had heard the discreditable stories attached to
-Rough-and-Ready, and who had already judged him as a sinner of the
-first magnitude--glared at the speaker, and said with difficulty,
-&quot;Scoffer, sinner!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He intended to add, &quot;Repent!&quot; but a sudden paroxysm compelled him to
-confide that exhortation to the waves.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready laughed gayly, and turning on his heel, met the
-captain, and fell into step with him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Some of the sailors are grumbling,&quot; observed Rough-and-Ready,
-&quot;because we have set sail on a Friday.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Grumble!&quot; exclaimed Captain Liddle, pettishly. &quot;Ay, and they'll
-grumble till the end of the voyage. I have had that sort of thing
-occur to me before. This is the fifth time I have started on a Friday,
-and nothing more unusual ever occurred than occurred at any other
-time. But the men wouldn't believe it, and won't believe it now. If a
-head-wind comes, it is because we set sail on a Friday; if we're
-becalmed, because we set sail on a Friday; if there's a squall,
-because we set sail on a Friday; if a man tumbles overboard,
-because we set sail on a Friday; if we lose a spar, if a sail is
-split, because we set sail on a Friday. I do believe, if one of
-them cuts his finger, he thinks, 'Curse the skipper! What the
-something unmentionable did he set sail on a Friday for?'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have no doubt, skipper,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready, smiling and pointing
-to Stephen Homebush, whose head was hanging over the bulwarks, as if
-its owner were curiously interested in the swelling of the waves,
-&quot;that Mr. Homebush is quite ready to side with the men, and to declare
-that he is sea-sick because you set sail on a Friday.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Captain Liddle smiled at the pious sufferer, and shrugged his
-shoulders. It was evident, although he said nothing upon the subject,
-that he had already formed a not too favorable opinion of Stephen
-Homebush.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For the first three days the prognostications of the sailors, that
-&quot;something&quot; was sure to happen because the voyage was commenced upon a
-Friday, did not seem likely to be realized. The weather was fine, the
-wind was fair, and every stitch of canvas was set. But the grumbling
-did not cease, and for a very good reason. Scadbolt and the Lascar did
-their best to keep the subject warm, and between them managed to
-foment and increase the dissatisfaction. Captain Liddle, cognizant of
-this, became stern and strict, and took but little rest. He did not
-know who it was that was encouraging the men; he suspected Scadbolt,
-and, estimating his second mate at his proper worth, he wanted but the
-slightest confirmation of his suspicions to take prompt action against
-the offender. By this time the passengers had recovered from their
-sea-sickness, and begun to assemble on the deck. Stephen and Rachel
-Homebush set to work vigorously in their task of reclaiming the
-sinners, in which category every person but themselves on board was
-included; but though they prayed (for others), and groaned (for
-others), and &quot;wrestled&quot; (for others), their efforts were not crowned
-with success. Indeed, the only person who tolerated them at all was
-the man who had the worst character, and whom nearly everybody
-avoided. Rough-and-Ready was a treasure to the pious couple. To him,
-as the most illustrious sinner within their reach, they imparted the
-knowledge of their own goodness and of everybody else's wickedness;
-him they informed that their special mission (out of heaven) was to
-lead him to the waters of grace, and that his special mission was to
-be led thereto by them. They prayed for him wrathfully, in stony
-voices, and would have wept over him, had he allowed them to do so.
-And when they found that they made no impression upon him (for it was
-only his good-nature that induced him to listen to them), they groaned
-the louder, and prayed the longer, and wrestled the more, because of
-the hardness of man's heart. It was a curious thing, seeing how good
-they were and how bad he was, to observe the conduct of Little Emma,
-Mrs. Pigeon's five-year-old daughter, towards the saints and the
-sinner. The little child ran away from the saints, and cried and
-struggled when Rachel Homebush took her hand; but when she saw the
-sinner, she ran into his arms with perfect confidence, and submitted
-to be tossed in the air and to be kissed by him very much as if she
-liked it. But then children have no judgment.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Towards the close of the third day the weather became threatening, and
-the sails were taken in. This set the grumblers at work more busily
-than ever. Some time before midnight, the watch being in charge of the
-second mate, Captain Liddle came unaware upon two of the men who were
-grumbling, and sternly asked them what they were grumbling at. The
-Lascar was one of the twain, and of course he did not reply; but the
-other man, being pressed by the captain, pulled at his forelock, and
-said that the sailors weren't pleased because the voyage had been
-commenced on their unlucky day.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And that's the cause of this rough weather, eh?&quot; questioned Captain
-Liddle sarcastically.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, your honor,&quot; was the reply. &quot;Why, even the second mate says so.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Does he?&quot; cried Captain Liddle, turning wrathfully upon Scadbolt, who
-at that moment approached them. &quot;What do you mean, Mr. Scadbolt, by
-spreading dissatisfaction among the crew?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Brought face to face with the man to whom he had spoken, Scadbolt, who
-was no coward, gave him a threatening look, and said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, sir, I've an objection to setting sail on Friday; and, as you
-see, the men have the same objection.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I see quite enough to warn you to be careful,&quot; said Captain Liddle in
-a determined tone; &quot;I have warned you before, and I warn you now for
-the last time. Keep your objections to yourself, sir, and trouble
-yourself only with your duty.--And you, men, attend to yours, and let
-me hear no more of this nonsense. You know me well enough to know that
-I will not be trifled with.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The men slouched away, and Scadbolt was obliged to suppress his
-passion for the time: but it burned the fiercer for that.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The next day the weather became worse, and circumstances thus gave a
-color to the dissatisfaction, which grew stronger every hour. But the
-captain was equal to both emergencies; like a good sailor and a stout
-captain he grappled with the storm that raged without, and with that
-scarcely less dangerous one that raged within. He was seldom off the
-deck, and when he did go down to snatch an hour's rest, he left Joshua
-on board to watch in his place. For Captain Liddle was not slow to
-discover that Joshua was the man of all the other men on the ship upon
-whose faithfulness he could best depend. He said this many times to
-his wife, and often spoke to her in praise of Joshua. Minnie heard
-this, and heard also of the dissatisfaction among the sailors, and how
-Scadbolt, the second mate, had fomented the dissatisfaction. About
-this time a whisper spread among the passengers that there were three
-or four sailors in the crew who only wanted a favorable opportunity to
-break into open mutiny. Confirmation of this was given by the captain,
-on the third day of the bad weather, when the ship was scudding along
-under bare poles. He, coming down hastily into the saloon, went into
-his cabin, and made his appearance in a few minutes with a belt
-buckled round his waist and two pistols in it. The passengers,
-looking at each other in astonishment, received another shock
-presently by the surprising appearance of Rough-and-Ready. His dress
-hitherto had been of a respectable character black coat and waistcoat
-and tweed trousers; but now he had on a red-serge shirt, and a rough
-billycock-hat, and buckskin riding-trousers, and boots that reached
-half-way up his thighs, and a red-silk sash round his waist, with
-knife and pistol stuck therein. You may guess the alarm he caused
-among the ladies; the only passenger who seemed pleased at the change
-in his appearance was little Emma Pigeon, who skipped round him
-delightedly, and clapped her hands in approval of his bright-colored
-shirt and sash. Rough-and-Ready caught the child in his arms and gave
-her a hearty kiss, and nodded cordially to the fellow-passengers who
-had so studiously avoided him. They were so frightened at his
-desperate appearance, that they forgot to frown upon him as they were
-wont to do. Rough-and-Ready then going on deck, walked up to Captain
-Liddle, and said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You can depend upon me, skipper. I've seen this sort of thing
-before.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Captain Liddle gave him a look of grateful acknowledgment, and they
-made their way into the midst of a knot of sailors who were standing
-irresolutely about Scadbolt and Joshua. Joshua was cool but perplexed,
-and Scadbolt was in a furious rage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Whose watch is this?&quot; asked Captain Liddle. He knew well enough, but
-he had a motive for asking.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mine, sir,&quot; answered Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What are the men hanging about for?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I gave an order, sir, and Mr. Scadbolt countermanded it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Give your order again, Mr. Marvel.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua did so; and as Scadbolt, in a voice thick with passion, was
-desiring the men not to obey it, Captain Liddle very promptly knocked
-him down. Calling two of the sailors by name, Captain Liddle ordered
-them to put the second mate in irons. After the confusion which
-followed the execution of this order had partially subsided, Captain
-Liddle cried out,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, then, what have you to complain of? Speak out like men.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At this one of the sailors stepped forward, and said respectfully,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, your honor, some of us think it would have been better if we
-had stopped in port another day.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's a matter of opinion,&quot; said the captain. &quot;You have a right to
-yours, but I have a right to mine also; and I am master of this ship.
-Now I ask you as sensible men and good sailors, is it right that you
-should forget your duty because we don't agree upon a certain point?
-Do you know what this means my men?&quot; pointing to Scadbolt. &quot;It means
-mutiny. What would any one of you do if you were skipper in my place
-You would put a stop to it at once, as I have done, and as I intend to
-do. I'll do it by reason, if you'll let me, and I'll say nothing of
-any other means, for I don't want to use them. I speak you fair, men,
-and I mean you fair. What do you say, now, to treating me as I treat
-you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Acquiescent murmurs ran round the crew, most of whom had gathered
-together during the scene. &quot;And at such a time as this too,&quot; continued
-Captain Liddle, &quot;though it would be all the same in fair weather or
-foul. I'll tell you something that many of you, as good mariners,
-suspect already. We are near a dangerous coast--how near I do not
-know, for I have not been able to take a sight for two days. And it's
-at such a time as this that this bad sailor--I found out before we got
-into the Bay of Biscay that he wasn't as good as he ought to be--it's
-at such a time as this that he tries to get you into trouble. Come,
-now, have I spoke you fair?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, you have; spoke like a man!&quot; a dozen voices said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's well said. Whoever is on my side step over to me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Every man--even the Lascar, too much of a coward to stand
-aloof--stepped to the captain's side and saluted him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I'm proud of my crew,&quot; was the captain's simple remark after this.
-&quot;Now go to your duty.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As the captain walked on to the poop, Rough-and-Ready said,</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That was well done, skipper; but there are two or three black sheep
-among 'em, for all that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know it,&quot; replied Captain Liddle, with a significant look. &quot;I shall
-keep a sharp look-out on them. I've got a man on board that's a match
-for a dozen black sheep, or I'm very much mistaken.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready laughed and turned on his heel, and Captain Liddle
-went down to say an encouraging word to his wife.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">On the eighth day the captain, suspecting that they were in the
-vicinity of the Minerva Shoal, near which there were some dangerous
-rocks, ordered a sharp lookout to be kept for broken water. All the
-passengers were by this time in a state of great alarm, and although
-Captain Liddle tried to cheer them by encouraging words, his anxious
-face belied his speech. Perhaps the one who suffered the most from
-terror was Stephen Homebush. His terror was so great that he forgot
-his mission, and flew to others for consolation, instead of imparting
-it. Such men as he are most true to their calling when the weather is
-fine. It was a miserably dark night. The captain, completely tired
-out, had gone down to his cabin for a little rest. All the passengers,
-with the exception of Rough-and-Ready, who never seemed to sleep, and
-yet was the freshest man of them all, had retired to their beds with
-hearts filled by gloomy forebodings of what the morrow might bring;
-and there they lay, tossing about, listening to the raging wind that
-was driving them perhaps to certain death. In the captain's cabin were
-Mrs. Liddle and her maid. There was something in the present danger
-that was to Minnie almost a relief from the horrible monotony of her
-life. Her self-imposed silence had become unbearable, and she fretted
-under it until her health was in danger of giving way. So that this
-change, with all its terrors and uncertainties, was an absolute relief
-to her. She was too sad and unhappy to be frightened at the prospect
-of death. Had the future held out to her any hope of happiness, she
-would have prayed to live; but as it was--&quot;Better to die,&quot; she
-thought, &quot;and so end all.&quot; There is no doubt that this miserable state
-of her mind was due to the want of proper moral training in her
-childhood. Thrown completely upon herself; with no mother's love to
-teach her what is often taught by love's instinct alone, that such and
-such impulses and thoughts are weeds that destroy, and such and such
-are flowers that beautify: doomed to the almost sole companionship of
-a father whose misfortunes had rendered him an unfit teacher, it is
-scarcely to be wondered at that she should have been oblivious of the
-true duty of life.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Bessie,&quot; said Captain Liddle to his wife, &quot;I have come down for an
-hour's sleep. I can rest with confidence, for Marvel is keeping the
-watch.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mrs. Liddle nodded, and gave him a sweet little smile that was like
-wine to him; and Minnie heard him say, in answer to a whisper from his
-wife, &quot;We are in God's hands, Bessie, and must trust to His mercy.&quot;
-&quot;We are in God's hands, and must trust to His mercy,&quot; thought Minnie
-as she left the cabin; &quot;and Joshua is keeping the watch. Death may be
-very near. Will it be wrong to speak to him?&quot; Mechanically she made
-her way to the deck, stumbling two or three times and bruising
-herself. But she felt no pain. &quot;I should like to die near him,&quot; she
-thought; &quot;if he would take my hand in his, I should be content and
-happy.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Nothing but darkness surrounded her on deck. She clung to a rope,
-appalled by the mournfulness of the scene. Not a star was to be seen
-in the heavens, and the sky and water were as black as the night. So
-solemn, so mournful was every thing around, that the ship seemed to be
-rushing into a pit of death, where no light was. She could not see her
-hand before her, but all at once her heart beat wildly at the sound of
-Joshua's voice. He was speaking to Rough-and-Ready, and they were
-quite near her, although she had not seen them. Even now she could but
-barely discern their forms in the gloom. Joshua had just made a remark
-that Rough-and-Ready must have been a great traveller.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; answered Rough-and-Ready, &quot;I've been about a pretty great deal.
-I've led a wild life; but then, you see, I never had any one to care
-for but myself.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never?&quot; questioned Joshua, in a tone that had a dash of pity in it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never but once, and that was only for a little while. But what
-matters? It will be all one by and by.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should be sorry to think you meant that,&quot; continued Joshua; &quot;it
-would be a sad belief that, at such a time as this.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You speak as if you didn't believe it, at all events,&quot; said
-Rough-and-Ready, in tones as soft as a girl's; &quot;but then your
-circumstances are different to mine. You are young; I am&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not old.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Old enough for twice your years. Then you have friends at home,
-mayhap?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, dear ones.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mother and father?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay; God bless them!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Wife perhaps?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua gave a gasp that sounded almost like a cry of pain.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, well,&quot; continued Rough-and-Ready, &quot;if we were to go down this
-minute, I don't know the man or woman who would say 'Poor fellow!'
-when my fate was known. I leave no one behind me, and my death would
-bring no grief to a single soul. Perhaps my condition is the happier
-of the two.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not so,&quot; said Joshua sadly; &quot;and I hope--indeed I believe--that you
-don't mean what you say. I have a friend at home--Dan, his name--to
-whom the news of my death would be the bitterest grief. I have dear
-ones at home, whose lives would be lives of mourning if I were not to
-return. I know this, and feel the pain that they would experience
-should it be God's will that we are not to escape this peril. But,
-strange as it may sound, I would not spare them the pain if it were in
-my power. Could I, by a wish, destroy the memories that make my life
-dear to me and them--dearer than you imagine--and so pluck from their
-hearts and minds the sting that my death would bring to them, I would
-not do so. For after death, there is life!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You believe in the immortality of the soul, mate?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Surely; and you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready made no reply.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis often difficult to believe in what we don't understand. On such
-a night as this--bleak, dreary, awfully solemn--with death waiting for
-us within a few yards perhaps--it is difficult to believe that there
-are spots on the earth where the sun is shining and where the flowers
-are blooming.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's true, mate; you speak more like a scholar than a sailor. Shake
-hands.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I learned a great deal from the friend of whom I have spoken,&quot; said
-Joshua, grasping Rough-and-Ready's hand. &quot;What is that ahead of us?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A dark cloud. Impossible to see whether it belonged to earth, or air,
-or water. A moment after he uttered the words, the man who was keeping
-the look-out cried that there was land ahead. Joshua hastily gave some
-orders, and was making his way to the saloon to arouse the captain,
-when he was almost thrown off his legs by a terrible shock.
-Involuntarily he threw his arms around Minnie, who was clinging to the
-rope. She held him fast for a moment, and he cried,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who is this?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is me,&quot; she said; &quot;cling to me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't stir,&quot; he whispered rapidly, filled with a wild amazement at
-the familiar tones of Minnie's voice; &quot;if it were not that I know I am
-not dreaming, I could believe a spirit spoke, and not a woman. But
-keep you here; do not move for your life.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The next instant all was confusion, and cries and lamentations filled
-the air. Captain Liddle was on deck barefooted, and all the passengers
-were there in their nightdresses, clinging to ropes and spars, praying
-and crying and wringing their hands. Great seas washed over the ship,
-drowning the cries for a brief time; the night was so dark that their
-true situation could not be discovered, and imagination added to their
-terrors and magnified them. The captain could do literally nothing;
-for the ship appeared to have been lifted on to the rocks, and kept
-bumping against them in its endeavors to get free. And yet there was
-sea all around them. Some of the passengers had sought shelter under
-the lee of the cuddy, among them the captain's wife, Mr. and Mrs.
-Pigeon and Little Emma, and Steven and Rachel Homebush. Many times
-during the night was the voice of Stephen Homebush heard, calling upon
-the Lord to save <i>him</i>; while his sister Rachel, braver than he, stood
-by his side, with a stern set face, in silence. The cheery laugh of
-Mrs. Pigeon was stilled, but she was not so overcome by terror as not
-to be a comfort to her husband and child; during the dark night those
-three clung together and comforted each other as well as they were
-able; while the captain, making his way from one group to another,
-bade them not lose heart; for the ship seemed to be keeping together,
-and when daylight came their condition might be found to be less
-desperate than it appeared.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Besides,&quot; he whispered to the male passengers, &quot;we have three or four
-rascals among the sailors, and for the sake of the women we must keep
-ourselves cool and self-possessed.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">To his wife he said simply,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, Bessie, this is a bad job. I ought not to have allowed you to
-come with me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I would sooner be here with you, John,&quot; she said, kissing him, &quot;than
-I would be at home in safety.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Brave little heart,&quot; he whispered to himself as he walked away from
-her. &quot;Yet I could bear it better if I were alone.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">James Heartsease and Harry Wall kept together, as friends should, all
-through the night. They felt not a particle of fear; they thought it
-was very grand and very awful, and spoke in calm tones of what the
-morrow might bring.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't think we shall see China, Jim,&quot; said Harry.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps not. Hope no body will be hurt,&quot; was the reply. &quot;What a grand
-painting this would make!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A few minutes after Joshua had left Minnie, he came to the cuddy,
-where Mrs. Liddle had sought protection.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Marvel,&quot; she called to him, &quot;have you seen my maid?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then it came upon him that the woman to whom he had clung when the
-ship struck was the gypsy-maid who had kept herself so reserved, and
-he said, &quot;Yes my lady; do you want her?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">All the officers called the captain's wife &quot;my lady,&quot; and she was
-proud of the title.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; she answered; &quot;I wish you could bring her to me, poor girl; she
-is friendless and unhappy, poor child!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Has she no friends at home, my lady?&quot; Joshua could not help asking.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;None, I believe.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The word &quot;home&quot; reached little Emma Pigeon's ears, and as she nestled
-in her mother's arms, the child cried, &quot;Mother, are we going home?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, yes, my dear,&quot; sobbed Mrs. Pigeon; &quot;try to go to sleep, there's
-a darling.&quot; And she rocked the child, and sang a little song about
-birds and angels.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua, steadying himself as he walked cautiously to where Minnie was
-standing, wondered to himself whether it was fancy that had made the
-gypsy-maid's voice sound so familiar to him; a sea washing over the
-deck, drenched him to the skin, and as he stood upright and shook the
-water from his clothes, the memories that were stirred within him
-brought to him a picture of the dear old kitchen at Stepney, with
-himself half-naked, barefooted, and with the water streaming from him,
-standing at the door. The vision may have occupied but a moment, but
-the picture was complete; father, mother, Ellen, Dan and the birds,
-the Old Sailor, all were there. But where was Minnie? Why, by his
-side, with short curly hair and brown gypsy-face. &quot;Am I mad?&quot; he
-exclaimed, as he dashed the waters from his eyes. But when he reached
-the spot where Minnie stood, and she clasped his hand and said, &quot;Thank
-God, you are safe!&quot; his amazement grew.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I cannot see your face,&quot; he whispered, with his arm round her, for
-the better protection of both; &quot;but your voice is strangely familiar
-to me. Do I know you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes. But do not press me farther. Wait till the light comes. Shall we
-live till then?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I hope so.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Will you promise me to keep near me till daylight comes? It is my
-dearest wish--my only one.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I promise,&quot; he said, strangely agitated, &quot;until my duty calls me
-away.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And even then, you will come back when you have done your task, and
-stand by my side?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will, my poor girl. I have come now to bring you to the captain's
-lady.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She sent you for me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She is a good lady. But wait a little; I have something to say
-first.&quot; Many moments passed before she spoke again, and in the pause a
-grateful prayer went up from the girl's heart even for the small
-blessing of gentle speech from her hero's lips. &quot;You have made me
-very, very happy. Until tonight--for many, many months past--I have
-been most unhappy.&quot; She bent her lips to his hand and kissed it. &quot;Now
-answer me. We are in great peril?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The greatest, I fear.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But a danger threatens you of which you are not aware. Listen. The
-second mate, he who was put in irons the other day&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Scadbolt--go on.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is loosed.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;By whom?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know. But he is loosed, and but five minutes since was near
-me with a sailor whom I think I know, although I could not see him.
-Listen. I must whisper, for he may be near us now. They were talking
-of you, and they swore--O my God!--they swore to have your life.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They spoke of me by name?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;By name--Joshua Marvel.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You think you know the sailor who was talking to Scadbolt. Is he a
-dark man?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; a Lascar I think.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are right. He owes me an old grudge.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Scadbolt said that this coast is one of the most dangerous upon which
-a ship could strike. He believes he knows pretty well where we are,
-and that it will be a fight for the boats&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We have only two, the jolly-boat and the longboat; he may be right.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Be on your guard; tell the captain; be prepared.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We will; and you&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can protect myself. Feel this.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A knife!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I picked it up. Let them beware.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Another lurch of the vessel made them cling closer to each other.
-During all the horror of the scene, Joshua had not dared to ask
-whether it really was Minnie to whom he was speaking; he feared to
-know the truth. Minnie on the ship with him! and Ellen at home--and
-Dan--he dared not think of it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come,&quot; he said; &quot;I will take you to the captain's lady. Cling fast to
-me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Say a few words to me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What are they?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;God bless and forgive you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;God bless and forgive you! From my heart.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He will, I think,&quot; said the girl, as if communing with herself. &quot;I
-have not felt so happy for a long time past. Death has no terror for
-me if you are kind!&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXX.</h4>
-
-<h5>JOSHUA IS PROMOTED.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">When daylight came--and oh, how they watched for it, and
-prayed for
-it!--they saw clearly their great peril. The ship was rolling amongst
-a mass of sharp rocks jutting upwards from the sea. They saw the
-points of these rocks on all sides of them; but no friendly land was
-in view.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The ship is lost,&quot; said Captain Liddle to Joshua whom he looked upon
-as his right-hand; &quot;she is breaking up fast. Our next chance is the
-boats.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was a wonder indeed how the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; had kept together during
-the night, with the tremendous beating she had received from the
-rocks; if she had been in deep water, she must inevitably have sunk.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua had told Captain Liddle of the understanding between Scadbolt
-and the Lascar, as overhead by Minnie; and now the captain walked to
-where the two conspirators were standing in conversation with other
-sailors. Scadbolt was endeavoring to persuade them to seize the jolly
-boat, and leave the passengers to shift for themselves.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is that you are saying?&quot; cried the captain breaking in amongst
-them, and grasping Scadbolt by the shoulder with a grasp of iron.
-&quot;More incitings to mutiny! Take heed, sir! Give me but a little
-stronger cause--nay, dare to lay a finger upon boats or provisions
-without leave--and, by God, I'll throw you into the sea!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Will you stand this, men?&quot; shouted Scadbolt, writhing in the
-captain's grasp.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Lascar made a movement towards the captain, and the glitter of a
-knife flashed in the light; but a blow from Joshua sent him reeling,
-and in an instant the knife was torn from his hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Remember!&quot; said Joshua in a low voice. &quot;You had a lesson from me
-years ago. What the captain does to Scadbolt, I do to you, you
-treacherous cur.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I remember,&quot; muttered the Lascar, presenting the singular aspect of a
-man cowed by fear and raging with furious passion at the same time, &quot;I
-swore to have your heart's blood, and I'll have it! Look you! the end
-has not yet come. Give me my knife.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua looked at the knife; it was one-bladed, with a clasp--one of
-the articles, indeed, which the Lascar had wrested from Solomon
-Fewster's fears.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You asked me once before for a knife I took from you,&quot; he said; &quot;then
-I broke it before I gave it back. But this--this I mean to keep.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now then my men,&quot; cried the captain, in a cheery voice, &quot;this is the
-second time that this damned rascal has tried to step between you and
-me. What I feared then has happened now. The ship is breaking up, and
-can't hold together for many days, and if the weather gets worse, may
-break up in a day. There are certain chances in our favor, every one
-of which will be destroyed unless we act in friendly concert and like
-men. This scoundrel has tried to make you believe that your interests
-and the interests of the passengers are in opposition. He lies! I
-declare to you, as a captain and a man&quot; (if he had said a gentleman,
-all would have been ruined), &quot;that your lives and your safety are as
-dear to me, as those of anybody else on board--except my wife,&quot; he
-said softly yet stoutly, and murmurs of &quot;Bravo, skipper! Bravo you're
-a man!&quot; broke even from the lips of those sailors who were most
-disposed to be won over by Scadbolt. &quot;Well then, you hear me declare
-now, as I have declared before, that I mean you fair. And I declare
-moreover, that our only chance of safety is in union. Once again--With
-me,--or Against me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;With you I with you, skipper!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">During this scene, Joshua did not know that Minnie was standing near
-him. Now, releasing the Lascar with warning words, he turned and saw
-her. She met his gaze unflinchingly, and a hot blush mantled over her
-neck and face. He gazed at her for so long a time, that she drooped
-her head before him, and stood in an attitude of pleading. But he
-could not doubt the evidence of his senses. Her manner, no less than
-her appearance, convinced him. It was Minnie, indeed, who stood before
-him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He covered his eyes with his hand, and staggered to the saloon. If a
-thousand despairing and undeserved deaths had stared him in the face,
-he could not have been more shocked and bewildered. He sat down and
-tried to think. What was the meaning of it? What did they know at
-home? What did they, know? What might they suspect? He saw himself and
-the Old Sailor together in the boat at Gravesend, and heard that
-faithful old friend tell him of Minnie's love for him, and what it was
-his duty to do. He had seen his duty clearly then: love for Ellen no
-less than duty--affection for his friend and brother, no less than
-love and duty--impelled him to the right and honorable course of
-making Ellen his wife. And then! Why, within three days of that
-consummation of his dearest hope, he and Minnie were together on board
-the &quot;Merry Andrew.&quot; If they at home knew it, suspected it even, must
-they not believe that his whole life was a monstrous lie? that he had
-planned, plotted, deceived, schemed, to prove how utterly false he was
-to the woman who adored him, to the man who believed in him, to the
-kind mother and father who loved him better than Benjamin was loved?
-For a few moments he lost all consciousness of present peril. The ship
-beat amongst the rocks; the seas dashed over the deck: he heard them
-not, felt them not. He took from his breast Ellen's picture and the
-lock of hair she had given him at their parting, and kissed them
-again and again while his tears ran on them. Strangely enough, there
-came to his ears then, in the midst of his agony, his father's hearty
-exultant voice, saying, &quot;This is better than being a wood-turner all
-one's life, isn't it, Josh?&quot; He shivered and sobbed and cried, &quot;O Dan,
-Dan, do not forsake me!&quot; and stretched forth his hands as if his
-friend were near. A hand upon his shoulder aroused him, He looked up,
-and saw the captain's wife. She was a brave woman, and had done much
-during the night to sustain the courage of the others.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is a man's work to do on deck,&quot; she said to him gravely and
-sweetly. &quot;You are not growing faint-hearted?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, my lady,&quot; he answered, &quot;not faint-hearted at the prospect of
-death; but I have received a shock worse than death.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She did not stop to ask for an explanation of his meaning--time was
-too precious; but she took the picture of Ellen and looked at it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My wife, my lady,&quot; he said, with a sob.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A troubled expression crossed her features, and she said
-encouragingly,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay, all hope is not gone; we may succeed in reaching land, or some
-ship may see us and pick us up. But all private grief must give way
-now for the general good. There are not too many faithful men on
-board; the lives of others depend on them. If they lose heart, and
-yield to the selfishness of their grief, we are lost.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua jumped to his feet and wiped his tears.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They are not unmanly tears, my lady,&quot; he said bravely; &quot;I can justify
-them to you when there is no pressing work to do. Thank you for
-calling me to my duty.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She smiled brightly on him and shook hands with him. When he got on
-deck, the captain was giving orders to lower the jolly-boat; but as
-the boat was being lowered, the broken water caught her and splintered
-her to pieces. The sailors and passengers looked with dismay at the
-fragments of the boat drifting away and dashing against the jagged
-rocks. &quot;What next?&quot; they all thought.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Try the long-boat, men,&quot; cried the captain. And in accordance with
-his instructions, the long-boat--the only one left--was launched over
-the vessel's side; but as she hung in the tackle a huge wave dashed up
-and filled her. It was imperative that the water should be bailed out
-of her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who will do it?&quot; asked the captain, loath to give an order in which
-there was almost certain death. Joshua was about to start forward,
-when Minnie's hand upon his arm restrained him. Before he could shake
-off the grasp, the first mate, crying, &quot;I'm a single man; I've no wife
-and children waiting for me at home!&quot; jumped into the boat up to his
-waist in water, and began to bail it out. But he had not bailed out a
-dozen gallons when the stern-post was jerked out of the boat, which
-was left hanging in the tackle. The shouts of the men and the screams
-of the women apprised him of his danger; and as he looked about to see
-how he could remedy the disaster, the fore-tackle got adrift, and the
-boat was battling with cruel rocks and water. The force of the current
-was too powerful for her. The captain threw out lines to the
-unfortunate man, but he could not catch them. But if he had, he would
-have been bruised to death by the sharp rocks. The moment before he
-went down, he waved a good-by to those on board. A long silence
-followed. The women looked anxiously at the captain, but saw no hope
-in his face. Then with a gesture to all to follow him, he went down to
-the saloon, and there read prayers, and commended them to God. He was
-not what is understood as a religious man; but knowing the danger in
-which they stood, he conceived this to be a duty. That done, he said,
-&quot;Men and passengers, we have one chance left, and only one. Out of
-our masts and spars we can make a raft sufficiently large to hold all
-of us. Then we may be able to reach some friendly land. To stay on
-board and wait, and not work, is certain death. Even as it is, a raft
-will take us some days to make, and the ship may break to pieces
-before it is done. But we must trust to God for that. What we've got
-to do is to work like men, for our own sakes, for the sake of the
-women, and for the sake of wives and children at home. Some of you
-have these, I know. It is not for me, now that we are in such a
-strait, to say, do this, or do that; although under any circumstances
-I shall insist upon discipline and order. I can't make you work, and
-therefore I submit for your approval the plan I think best for general
-safety. Have any of you a better one to propose?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, no!&quot; was the unanimous cry.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Very well; then we'll determine upon this. And for the better
-carrying out of our design, I appoint Mr. Marvel second in command. He
-is first mate now. If any thing happens to me, you will look to him.
-When the raft is made, and safely launched--if it please God that it
-shall be so--we will set down necessary rules for all on board. Until
-that time there is but one rule--to work. Every man on board must
-work--passengers and all; and every man must aid me in preserving
-order.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The captain's manly speech infused hope into every heart; and
-exclamations of &quot;Good!&quot; &quot;Bravo skipper!&quot; &quot;Well said, sir!&quot; followed
-his last words.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;One other thing,&quot; he said, in a more determined voice: &quot;to my certain
-knowledge, we have unfortunately among us two men who have endeavored
-to spread dissatisfaction and add to our confusion. I will not point
-out these men; they are known to me and all of you. They are men,
-though, as we are, so far as the value of life to each of us goes; and
-it is only fair that they should have equal chances with us. But this
-I declare, by my dear wife's life! If these men do not work, and if
-they attempt any thing that is not for the general good, I will shoot
-them with my own hand! Now then, to the deck!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Not a man among them who did not take off his coat and set to work
-with a will. There were a great many loose spars on board, which, with
-the mizenmast, were found to be sufficient for their purpose. They
-tried to cut down the mainmast; but there was so much danger in the
-attempt that it was relinquished. For three days they worked like
-slaves. The rocks served as a resting-place for the ends of the
-largest spars, which were firmly lashed together and nailed; the light
-and short spars were used for the centre of the raft, upon which a
-kind of platform was raised on which many of the shipwrecked persons
-could lie out of the water; a mast, to carry sails was also rigged up.
-The raft was not finished too soon; they could not have stopped
-another day on the ship. While the work was going on, three of the
-sailors lost their lives, so that already their number was lessened by
-four. The raft being ready, it was launched with great difficulty. The
-next anxious question was provisions; and the result of their inquiry
-blanched many a cheek. All the bread was spoiled by the salt water,
-and most of the preserved meat had been lost, in consequence of having
-been brought on deck when they tried to launch the boats. They also
-made another disheartening discovery. They could only find two small
-kegs to hold water. Still, when the first shock of these discoveries
-was over, they were borne bravely, almost cheerfully. The women,
-excepting Rachel Homebush, were the cause of this; they smiled upon
-the workers, encouraged them, and made them hopeful in spite of
-themselves. Even Mrs. Pigeon recovered some of her good spirits; and
-knowing that her merry laugh was a comfort to the men, she laughed
-often when she was not inclined for mirth. The little child, Emma, was
-the only truly happy one of the party, and her presence drove away
-many a hard thought. Rough-and-Ready had his anxious intervals, but he
-worked with a will. Between him and Joshua a strong attachment sprung
-up; each admired the manliness of the other. He was also particularly
-kind to Minnie, and she grew accustomed to look upon him with
-confidence, and to trust in him. The night before the raft was
-launched, Joshua persuaded Captain Liddle to take a night's rest.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It will be all the better for you and all of us, sir,&quot; said Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But you too, Marvel,&quot; said Captain Liddle, &quot;you want rest as much as
-I. I don't believe you have had two hours' sleep since we struck.&quot;
-This was really true; both Joshua and the captain had been in
-defatigable.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind me, sir,&quot; said Joshua, with a sad sweet smile. &quot;You have
-your wife to attend to. Besides, I promise that I will rest to-morrow
-night, if you will give me leave.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are a noble fellow, Marvel;&quot; and Captain Liddle gazed admiringly
-at the young sailor. &quot;I have often wondered how you acquired certain
-qualities that are not common to the ordinary sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know, sir; I doubt if they were ever in me. They must have
-been put there by my friend Dan, who is nobleness itself.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dan? Ah! the lame boy with the wonderful birds; that I saw at your
-house. I liked his face.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is the dearest fellow&quot;--Joshua turned away his head.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The next day the provisions and the charts and instruments, and many
-things that would be useful, such as blankets, tools, and writing
-materials, were stowed safely on the raft. Of the provisions there was
-a very small store: twenty tins of preserved meat, a small quantity of
-sugar, about a gallon of rum, and two kegs of water. By the time every
-thing useful was stowed away and secured, and the passengers were
-safely on the raft, it was evening, and within three hours the &quot;Merry
-Andrew&quot; broke completely up. The raft, having parted its moorings,
-forced by the strong current, was carried to sea, and the passengers
-watched the last of the ship with unmixed feelings of sadness. The
-women shed tears, and all of them, men and women, felt as if they had
-lost a friend. When the vessel was out of sight a stronger feeling of
-desolation stole upon the unhappy group, and Rough-and-Ready had many
-looks of astonishment cast upon him as he rubbed his hands and said in
-a cheerful voice, &quot;This is splendid. Now we can be comfortable.&quot; But
-it was well for them that they had some stout hearts on board.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The direct allusion made by Captain Liddle to Scadbolt and the Lascar
-had had its effect upon those worthies; they knew that their lives
-depended upon their conduct. But they found means to exchange
-confidences, and they resolved to revenge themselves on both Joshua
-and the captain when opportunity served. &quot;Wait till we make land,&quot;
-said Scadbolt; &quot;they shall smart then the pair of them. I'll teach
-both of them the meaning of 'general good!'&quot; The Lascar's old feeling
-of hate for Joshua had been revived in all its intensity by the late
-scene between them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I'll have my knife back,&quot; he muttered to himself as he lay on the
-raft the first night, at a little distance from Joshua, watching him
-with venomous looks, &quot;and his heart's blood with it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Not a movement, not a glance, escaped Minnie's notice. Aware of the
-feelings of hate entertained by the Lascar for Joshua, she set herself
-the task of watching over Joshua's safety. He, overpowered by fatigue,
-had been persuaded by the captain to take some sleep, and when he lay
-down Minnie crept to his side and remained there during the night. He
-slept long and peacefully through the solemn night and after the gray
-morning had dawned, dreaming of home, of Dan and Ellen, and murmuring
-their names with a smile upon his lips.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXXI.</h4>
-
-<h5>ON THE RAFT.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua, opening his eyes, saw Minnie sitting by his side. She,
-seeing
-that he was awake, moved quietly away without a word, and went to
-where the other women were lying. He had been so fatigued when he lay
-down to rest, that his sleep had been very profound; and when he
-awoke, the full sense of his situation did not come upon him. Minnie,
-sitting by his side with her brown face and short curls, was the first
-thing he saw; and it seemed to him for a brief space that he was
-dreaming. But when she moved away and joined the other women, he
-remembered the perils they had encountered, and the terrible position
-in which they were placed. He would have called to her, but that some
-feeling restrained him; and although he thought much of her during the
-day, he was glad that he had not spoken to her. Besides, his attention
-was diverted for a time to another circumstance. Some of the men were
-clamoring for breakfast. Neither Scadbolt nor the Lascar was among the
-murmurers; these last consisted of the weakest of the party, who were
-less able than the others to bear hunger, and to whom the fear of
-starvation made it appear as if they had been already fasting a day.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Breakfast! breakfast!&quot; they cried.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Wait till ten o'clock,&quot; said the captain, in a stern determined
-voice; &quot;you can't be hungry already. If you don't cease murmuring, I
-will put off breakfast until twelve.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">This threat silenced them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In the mean time the captain called his council together, and
-consulted with them. There were four in the council: himself, Joshua,
-Rough-and-Ready, and an old sailor named Standish, who had been
-wrecked twice before, and who consequently was looked upon as a
-distinguished personage. At eight o'clock the captain read prayers.
-Then the men, with the exception of the council, sat idly watching the
-water, and looking out for a fish. The morning was fine; one of the
-sailors noted for quaint sayings remarked that the weather had no
-business to be fine; it was a mockery. At ten o'clock the captain
-piped all hands; the call was answered readily, but there were no
-signs of breakfast.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Be seated,&quot; said the captain.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They all sat down, with the exception of the captain and his three
-counsellors. The captain stood in front, his supporters behind.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We who stand,&quot; said the captain, &quot;have been constituted by me,
-commander of this ship, into a council for the discussion and
-deliberation of all matters relating to the general welfare. The
-fairness of the selection will recommend itself to the crew, for the
-council is composed of three sailors and one passenger. Are you
-content?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, yes!&quot; cried a large number.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Up rose Scadbolt.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Let us hear first what you have to say about the provisions,&quot; he
-said. &quot;I am not one who says yes without consideration.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's fair too,&quot; broke from half a dozen throats.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Captain Liddle eyed Scadbolt steadily. Scadbolt returned his gaze. He
-knew that in the position he had assumed, he could command the
-sympathies of a certain number, and the knowledge gave him confidence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, it is fair,&quot; said the captain; &quot;and a reasonable suggestion is
-always reasonable, never mind who makes it. The council have drawn out
-a set of rules this morning, which I have here writ down on paper. If
-you approve of them you will approve of the council; do I understand
-that?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, yes!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The captain produced his paper and commenced.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Rule 1. All questions in dispute, with the exception of such as are
-properly within the province of the duties of Captain Liddle--whose
-orders as Captain of the 'Merry Andrew,' we promise to obey and uphold
-to the death--shall be decided by the majority.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Agreed!&quot; some cried.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Stop!&quot; exclaimed Scadbolt; &quot;how about the women? We are not going to
-let them vote.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Thought Captain Liddle, &quot;This is no common scoundrel; he puts in
-speech what many a malcontent would only dare to think.&quot; Said Captain
-Liddle aloud, &quot;That was not mentioned by the council. I don't suppose
-the women would wish to vote; a proper man would not have mentioned
-it. Decided, however, that the women do not vote.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In arguing with Scadbolt, Captain Liddle committed a grave mistake; it
-put them upon a kind of equality, and from that moment Scadbolt could
-boast of being the leader of a party, small as it might be.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Rule 2,&quot; continued Captain Liddle. &quot;The small stock of provisions
-shall be equally divided between every soul on board&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A little faint cheering here broke out.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But, in consequence of the smallness of the supply, the quantity to
-be measured out to each person shall be regulated, as occasion
-demands, by the Captain and his council.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">No demur was made to this.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Rule 3. That all fish, birds, or food of any kind which may be found
-in air or water shall be added to the general stock, and shall be
-fairly and equally divided.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Unfair!&quot; exclaimed Scadbolt; &quot;each man is entitled to what he can
-catch in air or water.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not so,&quot; replied the captain; &quot;for what then would become of the
-women?--Men, I appeal to you: does this man, who speaks while you are
-silent, represent your views?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Two or three voices answered, &quot;Yes;&quot; a score answered, &quot;No.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good,&quot; said the captain; &quot;he represents but one in a dozen; and even
-the two or three of you who seem to side with him may be brought to
-see the selfishness of what he advocates. If he had his way, the weak
-would be left to die; the strong alone should live, and have a chance
-of being saved. Is this fair? is it manly? is it honest?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Every man for himself, and God for us all,&quot; muttered Scadbolt trying
-to fan the flame.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Then the strongest man would crush the rest, and might would take the
-place of right,&quot; continued the captain, beginning to see that he had
-made a mistake in listening so patiently to Scadbolt. &quot;We were never
-nearer to death than we are this day; but shall that make us forget
-that we are men? Shall that turn us into brutes? We have helpless
-women depending upon us, and upon our manliness. They shall be shown
-no favor in the way of provisions; they shall divide equally with us,
-share and share alike. But, by God, the one who seeks to deny them
-their fair chance of life, dies by my hand!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am with you, captain,&quot; cried Rough-and-Ready.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And I,&quot; said Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And I,&quot; said the sailor who had been twice wrecked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And I,&quot; &quot;And I,&quot; from most of the rest.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Decided, then, that all food that may be found in air or water shall
-be added to the general stock, and shall be fairly and equally
-divided.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Scadbolt did not dare demur.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Rule 4. That, recognizing the full extent of our dread peril, and
-knowing that death stares us in the face, we resolve to die like men,
-if it be God's will; and thus resolving, we solemnly declare that,
-supposing all our food to be gone, we will not eat human flesh&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A shudder ran round the attentive group, and Mrs. Pigeon fainted; but
-Captain Liddle proceeded firmly,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nor draw lots as to who shall be killed to feed the rest. This we
-solemnly resolve, in fear of the Lord, out of common humanity, and out
-of respect for ourselves as Christian men.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Assented to in silence; not one of them could realize the horrible
-craving, born of raging thirst and hunger, that had come upon men in
-such a strait as theirs.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is all,&quot; concluded the captain after a long pause. &quot;You approve,
-then, of the council and these rules?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now to breakfast. Water, for the first week, will be served out
-twice a day--a quarter of a pint in the morning, and a quarter of a
-pint in the evening--half a pint a day to each person. Of food we
-have only preserved meat and sugar, and very little of either. One
-tablespoonful of preserved meat will be served out to each person at
-eleven o'clock every morning, and at five o'clock one ounce of sugar.
-Of rum we have about a gallon: a teaspoonful will be served out to
-each person once in every other day, in the morning or in the evening,
-as he may choose. The general stock of previsions will not be touched
-by any one on board, except in presence of all, and it will be guarded
-by two of the council; the penalty of tampering with the stock, or of
-attempting to steal any portion of it, will be death. And God give us
-strength, and send us happy deliverance!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When breakfast was served, the men lay about the raft idly, watching
-the water for fish, which they were not successful in catching, and
-rising every now and then to scan the horizon for a sail. Some slept
-or tried to sleep; some talked over the chances of deliverance; some
-spoke in whispers of what they had heard from men who had been
-wrecked. While the provisions were being measured by the captain, the
-other three of the council stood by with cocked pistols, ready to fire
-should a rush be made. Most of the men took their spoonful of
-preserved meat, and ate it quickly and greedily, some of them at one
-gulp; but a few, wiser than their fellows, retired with their portion,
-and sitting down, ate it very slowly. These last were the best
-satisfied. The council were busy enough all the day; assisted by Mr.
-Pigeon and the two friends, Wall and Heartsease, they were employed in
-re-arranging every thing on the raft, and in making things more
-comfortable for the women. A kind of low tent was built, under cover
-of which the women could lie down and rest, screened from the men; but
-it was only used at night; for at first the women mixed with the men
-during the day, and made themselves useful. Mrs. Pigeon, of her own
-accord, crept to where the sailors were lying about, and asked if they
-wanted any thing mended. At first they were too surprised to reply;
-but presently a dozen voices answered her. One wanted a pair of socks
-darned; another had half a dozen rents in his shirt; and in a very
-little while Mrs. Pigeon's hands were full. She made her way back to
-her female companions, and throwing a heap of clothes in the midst of
-them, proposed that they should set to work at once. Soon all of them,
-with the exception of Rachel Homebush, were busily and cheerfully at
-work; and while their fingers were plying, Mrs. Pigeon sang snatches
-of songs. It was as little like a picture of shipwrecked persons as
-one could imagine. But it was a picture that did an immense amount of
-good. The men looked at the women admiringly, and Rough-and-Ready's
-eyes glistened every time they wandered that way.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A pretty bunch!&quot; he observed to Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua nodded hopefully, for the sight cheered him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's a good little woman of yours,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready, turning
-to Mr. Pigeon. Rough-and-Ready held a very different position now from
-what he did when he first stepped aboard the &quot;Merry Andrew;&quot; he was a
-general favorite with men and women. Even Rachel Homebush cast glances
-of approval at him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I tell you what,&quot; answered Mr. Pigeon in a confidential tone; &quot;I've
-not seen much of women--you know out there in the bush they're rather
-scarce--and we had some hope of getting home&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Had</i> some hope!&quot; interrupted Rough-and-Ready. &quot;Say <i>have</i> some hope.
-If there's one thing in the world that makes me certain of it, it is
-that picture there,&quot; pointing to the women.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am heartily glad to hear you say so. <i>Have</i> some hope, then, of
-getting home, where the streets are crowded with women they say. But
-there isn't one among 'em to come up to her. Although there were not
-half a dozen lasses to choose from when I first made up to her, I'd
-choose her now out of a million.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Having delivered himself of these, his articles of faith in his wife,
-he sat down by her side, and held her cotton for her as she stitched
-and sewed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Meantime the current and their one sail carried them along at the rate
-of about two miles an hour. No land was in sight, and there was no
-sign of a ship, although during the day many a false alarm was given.
-The weather remained fine. The light wind died away in the evening,
-when the thin crescent of a new moon came out in the sky. It was
-welcomed as a good omen; and the women looked at it, and smiled at one
-another, the foolish things! as if the silver crescent were a
-messenger of good tidings. Then the stars came out brightly--another
-good omen. Many a one on the raft thought, &quot;This is better than being
-jammed on the rocks, in the 'Merry Andrew;' we are moving towards
-safety. If we do not see a ship, we may see land, and may manage to
-get ashore.&quot; References were made to Robinson Crusoe and the Swiss
-Family Robinson; not in a gloomy, but in a cheerful spirit. It was the
-admirable bearing of the men in command, no less than the virtues of
-the women, that contributed to this state of hopeful feeling. The
-sailors were also comparatively contented; most of them had a little
-stock of tobacco--some more, some less--the chewing of which gave them
-comfort. Each man hoarded his store more jealously than a miser hoards
-his gold; but some were greedier than others, or craved for it more,
-and could not withstand the temptation of chewing it almost
-wastefully, certainly not prudently. But then sailors are not a
-prudent class of men.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">To Joshua, who was sitting musing of home, came Rough-and-Ready, and
-sat beside him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You don't smoke?&quot; asked Rough-and-Ready.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's not sailor-like.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua shrugged his shoulders, and smiled.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nor chew?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Here is a little piece of tobacco. Chew it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua put it in his mouth and chewed it, because he thought it was,
-after all a certain kind of food, and might make him less hungry. But
-it made him sick.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready laughed a little when he saw the effect of it, and
-presently said, so that no one else should hear, &quot;You must learn to
-chew.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It will help to keep you alive when the provisions run out. I have a
-dozen pounds of tobacco strapped round me; it was my own, so I thought
-I had a right to it. By and by it will come in handy. I wish I could
-teach the women to chew.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If the men knew you had so much,&quot; said Joshua, &quot;your life would not
-be safe.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know that. I had an idea at first of handing it to the skipper for
-general use; but I thought better of it. There are a few on board to
-whom I don't think I'd give an ounce to save their lives. What is that
-in your handkerchief?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My accordion.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you play? Of course, though, or you wouldn't have it. I should
-like to hear some music.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua untied his handkerchief and took out his accordion. The night
-was very still, and the soft tones floated in the air, and seemed to
-linger about the raft as it glided through the sea. The quiet bubbling
-of the water as it stole through the openings between the spars, as if
-in sport, was in consonance with the melody and the still night and
-the beautiful peaceful heavens. Men who were lying at full length sat
-up when the music commenced, and were the better for it. The women
-crept from out their shelter, and listened and shed tears, not
-entirely unhappy. Surely it was a night of good omens. As Joshua
-played, his thoughts wandered back to his boyish life, and to the
-tender conversations that had taken place between him and Dan. Often
-he stopped as he mused and thought; but presently his fingers would be
-on the keys again, playing a few bars of &quot;Poor Tom Bowling,&quot; and other
-more cheerful songs of Dibdin, which the Old Sailor loved so well.
-They came back to him, the memories of that happy time. Their anxiety
-about their birds, when they first commenced to train them; the death
-of Golden Cloud, and the after conversation which he had never
-forgotten, in the course of which they had read together of the wreck
-of Robinson Crusoe. Why, it seemed all to have come true! Here he was,
-wrecked, certainly not alone, and therefore better off than Crusoe
-was, but wrecked for all that. But under what circumstances, and with
-what a dreadful web of suspicion surrounding him! Oh, if he could see
-the end of it! It was horrible to think that he might die--he and all
-of them on the raft; and that Dan might believe him false because of
-Minnie. It would not bear thinking of. He ceased playing, and bathed
-his fevered head and face. Often and often had he said to himself, in
-former storms and former scenes, the words that Dan had impressed upon
-him; and now he tried to fancy that Dan could see him, and knew that
-he was true.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready, seeing that Joshua was engrossed in thought, did not
-disturb him, and presently dozed off. How long he had been asleep he
-did not know; but he woke up with a curious impression upon him. He
-must have slept long, for the night was far advanced, and no sound was
-heard but the plashing of the water against and through the spars. The
-impression was this: that he and Joshua were lying side by side (as,
-in fact they were) asleep, and that a woman suddenly came between
-them. Her back was to him, her face turned to Joshua; that she sat
-down so, and so remained, for an hour and more, making no movement,
-uttering no sound; but he could tell that all the while she was
-watching Joshua's sleeping form. That then she inclined herself gently
-to Joshua, and pressed her lips to his hand: and that rising to go,
-she turned her face to Rough-and-Ready, and he saw that it was Mrs.
-Liddle's gypsy-maid. So far his fancies went. Starting into a sitting
-position, he saw Minnie a few paces from him, making her way to where
-the women were lying.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now this set Rough-and-Ready thinking--for more reasons than one. Had
-he been dreaming, or had it really occurred? If it had occurred, it
-must have been love that prompted her. He had observed her the
-previous night sitting near Joshua; but then it had not been so
-noticeable, for there was no kind of order on the raft. How long had
-she known Joshua? He was the more perplexed because he had never seen
-the two in conversation, and because of the mystery surrounding the
-acquaintance. He was troubled, too; for, rough as he was, and old
-enough to be Minnie's father, he had taken a tender interest in her,
-and the discovery he had just made came upon him like a shock.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Every person on the raft was asleep with the exception of the men in
-the watch and himself. He did not feel inclined to lie down again, so
-he sat and thought of things. In such a solemn scene, and at such
-solemn moments the spirit of nature works wonders in the minds of the
-roughest men--quickens the sympathies, and stirs into life the
-tenderest memories. It was so with Rough-and-Ready at the present
-time. Incidents in his life which had been so long unremembered that
-he wondered how he thought of them now, came vividly before him. His
-home--his mother--small domestic joys and griefs--a brother who died
-when they were both children, with whom he used to play and pelt with
-daisies--Good God! what kind of a bridge was that in his life that
-spanned that time and this? By what strange step had he walked from
-then to now? The stars grew less bright and paled out of the skies;
-the water grew grayer in the brief space before the morning's dawn.
-Soon in the east a thin line of water at the edge of the horizon
-quickened into life, and Nature's grandest wonder began to work in the
-dawning of a new day. The waterline, a mere thread at first, but
-broadening with every second that marked the flight of gray shadows,
-was rosy with blushing light. Purple clouds, fringed with wondrous
-colors, surrounded the clear space, in which presently the glorious
-sun rose grandly from the golden bed of waters; and as it rose, sky
-and sea rejoiced. At one time, for a few moments, the sea was like a
-field of golden corn waving in the sun's eye; but soon it deepened,
-till it and the heavens, that looked down into its mighty depths, were
-filled with flaming restless light, which in their turn gave way to
-softer shadows. Many a sunrise had Rough-and-Ready seen, but never one
-that he had watched so steadily as this; but it seemed as if his
-thoughts were in harmony with it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Late in the day, Rough-and-Ready asked Joshua how long he had known
-Mrs. Liddle's maid. Joshua looked at him curiously, but did not reply.
-He had not spoken to Minnie since they had been on the raft, and had,
-indeed, taken pains to avoid her. She did not intrude herself upon
-him; she submitted in patience to the silence he imposed upon her by
-his manner. But a strange phenomenon took place in her. While the
-others grew weaker and paler and more unhappy, she seemed to gather
-fresh strength, and actually grew rosier and more hardy. The dark
-color, too, was dying out of her face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have a reason for asking,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready, as an excuse for
-his question.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua nodded, not unkindly, but with a troubled face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is a strange story connected with your question,&quot; he said; &quot;so
-strange and so gainful, that I cannot give you an answer.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I thought there was some mystery in the affair,&quot; observed
-Rough-and-Ready; &quot;but I will not press upon your confidence. Do you
-know that the night before last she watched by you the whole time you
-were asleep?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Watched by me?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay. And last night, too, for some time--I don't know for how long.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua gave Rough-and-Ready an amazed look, and turned away to where
-Minnie was sitting. She saw him coming towards her, and her heart beat
-fast.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why have you watched near me for two nights?&quot; he asked, without
-looking at her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have enemies on the raft,&quot; was the answer, very quietly given.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know; Scadbolt and the Lascar. But I can take care of myself.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not when you are asleep,&quot; she said, almost in a whisper.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What could he do? What could he say? Together on the raft in the
-presence of Death, from which only something very like a miracle could
-save them, could he be stern and harsh to her? And his great misery
-was, that he knew and felt his power. He knew that an unkind word from
-him to this young girl was as bitter as death could be.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are like the rest of us, I suppose,&quot; he said, gently; &quot;growing
-very weak.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I do not think so,&quot; she answered, trembling at the gentleness of his
-voice; &quot;I feel strong as yet. Shall we be saved?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We are in God's hands,&quot; he said. &quot;I think there is but little chance
-of being picked up, or even of making friendly land.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Neither addressed the other by name.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If the end comes, and you know it, and I am not near you, will you
-try and find me, and say a kind word to me before I die?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He gave her the promise, and hurried suddenly from her, for his heart
-was fit to break, and he dared not trust himself to say more.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The third day passed, and the fourth. No sign of succor near. Hope
-began to die.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">On the sixth morning, when the roll was called, one of the passengers
-did not answer to his name. It was Mr. Bracegirdle.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is asleep,&quot; said one.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They shook him, but he did not move. He was dead. This was the first
-death, and it affected them deeply. Before he was sewn in the canvas,
-he was searched, in the anticipation of finding something useful. A
-surprising discovery was then made. He had in his pocket-book and
-round his waist bank-notes and bills for more than ten thousand
-pounds. But nobody knew any thing about him; he died, as he had lived
-among them a mystery. After his body was slipped into the sea, a
-whisper went about that the money found on him had not been honestly
-come by.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That same night two sailors were washed into the sea. When it became
-known, there were some among them who secretly rejoiced in the thought
-that there would not be so many mouths to feed. Nearly a third of the
-provisions was eaten, and the women were very weak. Little Emma Pigeon
-held out the best; but that was because her mother, from even her
-small portion, gave some to her child between the times of serving out
-the provisions; the child also was petted and nourished by the other
-women. Rough-and-Ready as especially considerate to the females.
-Joshua saw him chewing something, and wondered what it was. Noticing
-the look of inquiry on Joshua's face, Rough-and-Ready enlightened him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am eating leather,&quot; he said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua stared at him. Then Rough-and-Ready took from his pocket a
-dozen very thin strips of leather which he had cut out of his boot,
-and told Joshua that he had found a new food. He gave Joshua a couple
-of strips--very thin they were, almost like a wafer--and Joshua set to
-work on them, and after some difficulty, chewed them to a pulp and
-swallowed them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There's nothing like leather,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready with a quiet
-laugh. &quot;It wants strong teeth, but it fills up an empty place in the
-stomach.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The next day Joshua noticed that Rough-and-Ready received his
-tablespoonful of preserved meat in his handkerchief, and later on he
-saw Rough-and-Ready slyly feeding little Emma with a portion of the
-meat, and then go to her mother and slip what remained into her hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now and then a few small fish were caught. There being no means of
-cooking them, the women refused their share with horror, but the men
-ate them raw. They also snared some birds, and ate them in the same
-manner.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">On the twelfth night Scadbolt and the Lascar lay side by side awake.
-Nearer than they to the edge of the raft lay a shipmate, chewing
-tobacco.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All mine is gone,&quot; said Scadbolt enviously.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And mine,&quot; said the Lascar, with a horrible look at the man who was
-chewing.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I think he must have a good lot left. I heard him boast of it last
-week.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Two men are better than one.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Wait till that black cloud touches the moon; then stop his mouth;
-I'll do the rest!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The black cloud travelled on and on, crept before the moon, and soon
-shut out its light. When the moon shone again upon the waters there
-was one man less on the raft, and Scadbolt and the Lascar were chewing
-tobacco greedily!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">These two men had a line out in the water, with a small hook at the
-end of it. The Lascar felt it jerk. He pulled in the line; there was a
-fish at the end of it, weighing more than a pound. He took from his
-pocket a six-bladed knife, opened the largest blade, and cut the fish
-in two equal parts. He gave one to Scadbolt, and ate the other
-himself. So that they should not be observed, they lay down on their
-faces while they ate.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That was a good bit of luck,&quot; said Scadbolt; &quot;I feel stronger.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If the skipper caught us, he would throw us overboard, whispered the
-Lascar.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He'd try to; but one man is as good as another now. Let us do this
-and take care of ourselves; we shall outlast the others. I wish they
-were all dead--all but two.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, Joshua's Marvel's one. I know what you mean. You'd like to have
-the doing of him. So would I. Who's the other?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The gypsy-maid. She's a rare beauty.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Lascar did not say any thing to this. He had seen enough since
-they had been on the raft to convince him that his first suspicions
-were right, and that the gypsy-looking girl really was Minnie.
-Notwithstanding their desperate condition, he had cast many admiring
-glances at her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How fine,&quot; he thought, &quot;to strike at Joshua Marvel through her!&quot;</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXXII.</h4>
-
-<h5>SAVED FROM THE SEA.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The first among the passengers to completely give way was
-Stephen
-Homebush. He had observed no manner of discretion in eating his food,
-and had always swallowed it hastily, so that it did him but little
-good. Contrary to what might have been expected of him as a man of
-pious parts, he was the most selfish of all the passengers. Instead of
-praying for mercy, he rebelled in thought and speech against the
-misfortune which had overtaken him. He did not think of the others. It
-was <i>his</i> fate that was so hard. The prayers that he had so liberally
-offered up for other lost men were not for him now that he was lost.
-All other men were sinners, so he had preached. There was no grace in
-any of them. He came to impart it to them. Let them open their
-rebellious hearts, and receive it, while there was yet time. To all
-kinds of men had he preached this, striking at them hard, trying to
-frighten them with threatened penalties if they refused to believe as
-he believed. He came to give them grace; did he himself require none?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What kind of faith is that which believes all other faiths wrong and
-sinful? What is the test of faith? Sincerity? Ay, for me; but not for
-you. <i>I</i> am sincere; <i>I</i> am born in the grace of God. But you! Fall
-down and repent!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Such had been the preaching of Stephen Homebush. But now that the
-earth was crumbling from beneath his feet, and the New Life was before
-him, he prayed neither for others nor for himself. He maintained a
-sullen rebellious silence, faithful to his nature for the first time
-in his life. His mood, no less than the scanty supply of food and his
-manner of eating it, drove him mad; and within a fortnight of his
-sojourn on the raft, he was crawling and staggering about, uttering a
-dreadful jumble of prayers and blasphemies. His sister Rachel attended
-to him as well as her strength allowed her; but he struck at her
-often, and often cursed her and himself. It was terrible to see and
-hear. He did not suffer long. One day he ran from one part of the raft
-to another, raving that a sail was in sight. At first they thought
-that he might be right, but they soon discovered that he was raving.
-But he saw the ship coming nearer and nearer. His sister was the only
-one who had patience to bear with him. He described the ship to her,
-and described the men and women that were on the deck; and she
-shuddered as she recognized in his descriptions acquaintances and
-relatives every one of whom was dead.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Here it comes,&quot; he said, standing up in his eagerness,
-&quot;nearer--nearer! I shall be able to jump on board presently.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She strove to restrain him; but he broke from her wildly, and gave a
-leap on to the imaginary ship. He sank at once, and was seen no more.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The forlorn woman sat stupefied, and never moved. Hours afterwards,
-Rough-and-Ready, taking pity upon her condition, spoke to her, and
-bade her take comfort, The sense of what he said was lost to her, but
-she understood the sympathy that was expressed in his voice, and she
-looked at him gratefully while the tears rolled down her face. He
-placed his hand upon her shoulder, and said gently; &quot;Poor woman! poor
-woman!&quot; She took his hand in hers, and clung to it, as if her only
-hope of life was there. He could not disengage his hand except by
-force; so he sat by her for an hour and more, until she released him.
-Then he crept to where the women were lying; there was comfort in
-being close to them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">One of their most frightful experiences was the sight of the sharks
-snapping at the bodies as they were thrown into the sea. A great
-number of these creatures followed the raft day and night, scenting
-their prey. Each of the unfortunates thought, as he saw the sharks
-tearing at the body of his fellow creature, &quot;Perhaps it is my turn
-next.&quot; About the twentieth day they caught at least a dozen rock cod,
-but after that they caught no fish for many days. Soon their fresh
-water was nearly gone; for some time past they had only half a pint a
-day; now the quantity was reduced to a quarter of a pint. Some tins of
-the preserved meat were also found to be putrid: the women could not
-touch it; but a few of the sailors Scadbolt and the Lascar among them,
-devoured it greedily. When another new moon rose, the courage of
-nearly every one of them was gone; hope had fled too. They looked upon
-themselves as doomed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A curious conversation took place between the two friends, Harry Wall
-and James Heartsease. In the morning they had refused their portion of
-food.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Save it for the women, sir,&quot; they said to the captain.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He expostulated with them, and tried to prevail upon them to take it,
-but he did not succeed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sir,&quot; said James Heartsease, &quot;we are going to lie down to die. We
-both of us feel that our time has come. To rob the poor women of any
-more food would be simple barbarity. I should like to shake hands with
-you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Captain Liddle shook hands with them; and after that they crawled to
-the women, and shook hands with them, and kissed little Emma Pigeon.
-Then they crawled away, and lay down side by side.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The end has come, Jim,&quot; said Harry.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All right, Hal,&quot; said James; &quot;it is only a matter of a few
-years--perhaps not so long as that. If we had had plenty to eat, it
-might have come just the same. After all, what is time? Draw a breath,
-and it is gone. It isn't so hard to give up a few years when you think
-of that. Besides&quot;--But here he paused.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Besides what, Jim?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We are alone; we have no women-ties--no wives, no sweethearts. If we
-had, I think we should both try to live as long as we could.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I think so too. 'Tis a good job we are alone in the world.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Did you notice the women, Hal? I don't think they'll last long.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;One of them won't,&quot; said Harry. &quot;Mrs. Pigeon will soon go. Well, you
-know the reason of that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes; she gives all her food to her little girl. Women are good
-creatures, Hal.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Such as she are. Jim, old boy, a sudden weakness has come over me.
-Put your face closer to mine--I want to kiss you. Good old boy--good
-old boy!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They did not speak for some time after that. Heartsease was the first
-to break silence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hal, old fellow,&quot; he said, &quot;we shall meet somewhere by and by.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sure to,&quot; said Harry; &quot;somewhere, somehow. It is awfully grand to
-think of--it is good to believe. I am glad I never did any great wrong
-to sting me now. Jim, depend upon it, there is only one true religion;
-that is, the religion of being kind and tender and unselfish--the
-religion of doing unto others as you would others should do unto you,
-and of living a good life. Give me the man who does that, and who
-believes in the goodness and greatness of God. All the rest is
-mummery. We have agreed upon that, haven't we old boy?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, times out of mind.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, I tell you what I am going to do. I don't want to quite starve
-to death--it would be too painful; it's frightful to bear even now. I
-don't want to commit suicide, although to throw one's self into the
-water just now would be, in a certain measure, justifiable. I am going
-to draw myself close to the edge of the raft; then I am going to
-sleep. If the waves should chance to wash me over in the night--good!
-Let them; then I shall know something.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All right, Hal; I'll lie by your side. Goodnight, old fellow.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Goodnight.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When the sun rose again, those two good friends had gone to their
-rest, to meet again. Somewhere--Somehow!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So day after day passed, and their numbers continued to grow fewer,
-until there were no more than eighteen on the raft. In the first
-quarter of the second new moon--that is, when they had been on the
-raft for more than thirty days--Mrs. Pigeon died. When the news went
-round, there were few dry eyes among the poor creatures. Every one
-loved her, even to Scadbolt and the Lascar, whose clothes she had
-mended. It was a wonder how she had lasted so long, for it was with
-the greatest difficulty she could be prevailed upon to take food; she
-gave it all to her little daughter. When, almost by force, a small
-portion had been put into her mouth, Joshua had seen her take it out
-to feed Little Emma. That is why the child lived while the mother
-starved to death. Between Mrs. Pigeon and Minnie a strong affection
-had sprung up. Minnie scarcely ever left the side of the dying woman,
-and what little she could do to ease her last hours--it was but
-little, God knows!--she did tenderly and cheerfully. Minnie knew that
-Mrs. Pigeon was starving herself, so that her little girl might live.
-The beauty of that sacrifice Minnie was well able to comprehend. She
-would have done the same. But she was terribly unhappy. She knew by
-Joshua's manner, and by the few words that he spoke to her--kind one
-day, constrained the next--that her conduct had added to his
-unhappiness. She had seen him look at her with such a look of fear and
-wild amazement in his eyes, as to convey to her the impression that
-she had done him a great wrong. But so blinded was she by her love,
-that she could not quite understand the meaning of this; indeed, she
-did not pause to consider. The night before Mrs. Pigeon died, Minnie
-lay by her side, talking in whispers. But few words were spoken at a
-time; Mrs. Pigeon was too weak. The mother lay with her child in her
-arms, and her husband sitting close to her, his hands clasping his
-knees, and with an expression of stony despair in his face. So he had
-sat for three or four days, answering his wife vacantly, and with the
-air of one whose mind was a blank. Little by little, Minnie had told
-Mrs. Pigeon her story; and the dying woman, notwithstanding her own
-great trouble, had wept with Minnie, and sympathized with her. But
-Mrs. Pigeon, as well as expressing her sympathy, had striven to make
-Minnie aware of the fault she had committed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You see, my dear,&quot; she gasped in her weak voice, &quot;he has left a
-sweetheart at home, and he fears that if it were known that you were
-in the ship with him, she and his other friends might believe that he
-had played false with them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I never thought of that before,&quot; sobbed Minnie. &quot;I only thought of
-one thing: I loved him, and I wanted to be near him. I didn't want him
-even to know; and those at home bad no idea of what I was going to
-do--they can't even suspect.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But Mr. Marvel <i>fears</i> they may. Then think, my dear, was it not
-wrong to leave your father?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It was--I see it now; but I did not think of it then. But O Mrs.
-Pigeon if he would only forgive me! If I ask him, he will; but the
-answer would come out of the goodness of his heart, and while he
-forgave he would still condemn me. I know it, I know it, for he has
-never once called me by my name.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Soon after that, Mrs. Pigeon fell into a doze; and waking when it was
-near midnight, whispered, &quot;Minnie!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; answered Minnie. She had been sleeping too, but so lightly that
-a whisper was sufficient to awake her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have not long to live, my dear,&quot; said Mrs. Pigeon; &quot;and I should
-like to pass my last minutes alone with my husband and child, and to
-speak to no one but them--to think of no one but them. But before I
-go, I should be glad to say good-by to Joshua Marvel. Can you bring
-him to me? Say that I am dying.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Repressing her sobs, Minnie crept to where Joshua was standing on the
-lookout. He had grown thin and gaunt like the others; his feet were
-bare, the only pair of shoes he had possessed having been rotted by
-the salt water; his clothes hung about him in tatters; and his face
-was covered with hair, which, having not yet grown to a decent length,
-added to the wretchedness of his appearance. The moon had gone down,
-and Joshua, shading his eyes with his hand, was looking out to sea,
-possessed with the fancy that he saw a sail many miles away. This had
-now become a very common illusion; scarcely a man on board who did not
-see imaginary sails and ships a dozen times a day. With a weary sigh
-Joshua dropped his hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is folly,&quot; he muttered; &quot;there's no hope.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie timidly touched his sleeve, but did not succeed in attracting
-his attention. Then she called softly, &quot;Joshua!&quot; And he gave a gasp,
-and turned and saw her; but there was not light enough for him to see
-the tears upon her face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mrs. Pigeon has sent me for you,&quot; said Minnie. &quot;She is dying, and
-wants to wish you good-by.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He followed her in silence to where Mrs. Pigeon was lying.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is it so bad?&quot; he asked gently, as he leaned over her close enough to
-see her poor thin face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; she murmured. &quot;Sit by me for a few minutes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He sat down, and took her wasted hand in his: it was like the hand of
-a skeleton, thin and cold--a hand already dead, though it closed on
-Joshua's fingers.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Every one speaks well of you,&quot; said Mrs. Pigeon in broken tones: &quot;I
-have heard the captain speak many times of your courage and goodness
-and constancy.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have been glad to hear it, and am glad to hear it again,&quot; replied
-Joshua; &quot;it is my best reward as a sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have a kind heart, I am sure,&quot; continued the dying woman. &quot;If it
-were in your power to lessen the bitter grief that even a mere
-acquaintance might suffer, you would do so.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I think I would.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am sure you would; if only for the sake of those you love at home,
-and to whom you would wish that others might be kind when grief comes
-to them. You will forgive me for speaking thus; but I am dying, and I
-am a woman. I cannot say much more; I am too weak. If I could see you
-do one little thing, I should be glad.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will do any thing you ask.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because a dying woman asks you; but do it from your own kind impulse
-as well. That is what I wish. You know who it is that is sitting by us
-now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; he answered with a troubled glance at Minnie.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She has been very good to me, very kind, very, very patient. And she
-is so young! Soon you and she may follow me. Think of that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is it you would have me to do?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I would have you be kind to this poor child; I would have you, at
-this awful time, show to her the love that a brother might show to a
-sister. She has committed a fault; forgive her for it; let her atone
-for it. Be not you the one to cast the stone at her. And when you
-speak to her, speak from your heart; for she can read and understand,
-as all loving women can, the music of the voice.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie,&quot; said Joshua, turning to her. Mrs. Pigeon had loosed his
-hand; and now be held out his two hands to Minnie. It was the first
-time he had called her by her name.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Joshua,&quot; she said, with deep sobs, her hands in his, and bowing her
-head upon his shoulder until her lips almost touched his face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Was it treasonable to Ellen that he should permit it? Surely not,
-surely not, at such a time.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You have made me glad,&quot; said Mrs. Pigeon. &quot;Now go. Good-by. Heaven
-send you peace!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you!&quot; they both said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mrs. Pigeon nestled her face close to that of her little daughter, and
-soon afterwards died peacefully.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, for the first time, Mr. Pigeon seemed to awake to the reality of
-things. Kneeling by the side of his wife, he called softly, &quot;Emma!
-Emma!&quot; And receiving no answer, shook her gently, and smoothed the
-hair from her white face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Be comforted,&quot; said Joshua to him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Comforted!&quot; he repeated with a pondering look, as if he were
-considering what meaning there was in the word. He kissed her
-passionately, and whispered something in her ear, and waited for the
-answer that could not come. &quot;My God!&quot; he cried suddenly, &quot;she is
-dead!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie placed Little Emma before him, thinking that the sight of his
-little girl might lessen his grief; but he took no notice of the
-child, and sat the whole day nursing, the dead body of his wife in his
-lap. One tin of preserved meat was all that remained now of their
-stock of provisions. They brought his small share to him; but he
-motioned them away impatiently and fretfully. They went to him, and
-endeavored to make him understand that, for the sake of the others, he
-should allow the remains of his wife to be placed in their poor shroud
-of sacking; but he met them savagely, and threatened to bite at them
-and strangle them if they did not let him alone.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For the sharks to eat,&quot; he whispered to the inanimate form; &quot;they
-want to throw you into the sea for the sharks to eat, my darling. But
-I'll tear their hearts out before they part us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When the silver crescent looked down again upon the despairing group,
-Joshua tried once more to comfort the man, and said, with a heavy
-heart, that perhaps at the last moment a ship might pick them up. But
-though he uttered the words, he did not believe in them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And if it does,&quot; muttered Mr. Pigeon hoarsely, &quot;what do I care now?
-You don't know what it is to lose the woman you love.&quot; He staggered to
-his feet with the beloved form in his arm. &quot;You want to take her from
-me; that is why you speak the lying words. But nothing shall part
-us--nothing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Her face was lying upon his shoulder, and her fair hair was hanging
-loosely down over his breast. He took some of the hair in his mouth;
-and as Joshua saw him standing thus in the moon's light, he thought he
-had never seen a picture so utterly despairing. Thus the man stood,
-motionless, for a time, until the captain's lady crept to his side,
-and tried to console him. Poor thing! she was terribly weak, and the
-words came from her lips slowly and wearily. He gazed at her vacantly
-while she spoke, then turned his eyes to his dead wife.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Emma,&quot; he said, &quot;don't fear; nothing that they say shall make me give
-you up. We will go together--we will go together.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He cast one last look at the peaceful heavens, and whispering, &quot;Lord,
-receive us!&quot; clasped his wife more closely to him, and jumped into the
-sea. Two or three heads turned at the plash; but no other notice was
-taken of the event. They were all too weak and despairing. The
-captain's wife gasped, with heart-broken sobs,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Poor dears! poor dears! Their troubles are over; they are happier
-than we are.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, my lady,&quot; said Joshua; &quot;but I would not end my life like that.
-We are in the hands of the Lord; our lives belong to Him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He stretched himself at full length upon the raft, and took Ellen's
-picture and the lock of hair from his breast, and kissed them again
-and again. They, and the Bible that Dan had given him, were his most
-precious possessions. When he looked up, Minnie and Little Emma were
-close to him. He took the child's hand; and they remained together
-during the long, long night.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A dreadful announcement was made the next day. The water that was
-served out was the last--one tablespoonful each exhausted the store;
-all the provisions were used up also. It seemed, indeed, as if the
-best thing they could do would be to die at once by their own hands.
-The rules made by the council were no longer thought of. Something to
-eat, something to drink: these were the only laws now. When the next
-man died, the sailors looked longingly at the body. The Lascar had his
-knife open, and was about to use it, when Captain Liddle called to him
-to stop.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why?&quot; asked the Lascar, with a savage flourish of his knife.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why?&quot; echoed the other men: there were only six of them left
-altogether.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because fish is better to eat than human flesh,&quot; said the captain.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So it is,&quot; said one; &quot;but we haven't any more fishing-line.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come now,&quot; said the captain, &quot;even without that we can manage to
-catch a shark perhaps. Wait a few minutes. I'll think of a way.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And sure enough, very soon he devised a snare. First a running-bowling
-knot was made; then they cut a leg off the man that WAS dead (terrible
-to write, but true), and lashed it to the end of an oar; while on the
-end of another oar they hung the snare in such a way that the fish, to
-get at the bait, was compelled to come through it. There were plenty
-of sharks; and it was not long before one fell into the trap. It was
-dragged on to the raft; and a few blows from an axe soon killed it.
-After that, the man was sewed in sacking, and the funeral-service was
-read over him as it had been over all the others who had been buried
-in the sea.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">During all this time it was evident that they were near the coast, and
-yet they never saw it. The captain said that they were in the vicinity
-of the north-east coast of Australia--a part of the continent which
-had been very little explored. Here came in Rough-and-Ready's
-experience. He knew something of the country, he said. It was
-inhabited by the most savage of the Australian natives, and no white
-man had as yet had the courage to penetrate far into the country.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yet we might make the coast,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready, &quot;and not see a
-native for a long time, if we could manage to live; for I don't
-believe there are a great many of them. Cannibals they are; but, for
-all that, I should be glad to get among them. We might succeed in
-working our way down to a cattle-station.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Would there be really a chance of that?&quot; asked one or two.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;About a hundred to one against us,&quot; replied Rough-and-Ready
-carelessly; &quot;but that would be better than nothing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready gave them a description of some natives that he had
-seen, and told of their manner of living, their treachery and
-wildness. It was not very comforting to hear; the prospect of reaching
-land, and finding themselves in the midst of such savages, was very
-dismal.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The suffering that they had now to bear--that of thirst--was the most
-awful experience of all. Some of them grew delirious, and saw gardens
-and pools of fresh water. &quot;My lady&quot; was one of these. She whispered to
-her husband that a beautiful garden was within a few yards of them,
-and that they should reach it presently. She described the flowers and
-trees, and the cool fruit waiting to be plucked. And as the vision
-faded, she clutched him by the hand, and cried, &quot;John, John! What are
-they doing? We are going the wrong way. O my God we have passed it--it
-is gone!&quot; and lay exhausted. The words came from her parched throat
-with difficulty; and Joshua shuddered as he touched her face: it
-seemed to be on fire. Soon, however, the gardens dotted with
-clear-water fountains, and with trees laden with refreshing fruit,
-grew again for the delirious woman. She saw them in the water, in the
-air, in the heavens--so bright, so deliciously cool, that her heart
-almost burst in the vain attempt she made to reach them with her hand.
-A little rain fell mercifully, and yet mockingly; for nearly every
-thing on board was so impregnated with salt as to render the pieces of
-rags and canvas that were held out to catch heaven's tears no better
-when they were soaked than if they had been dipped into the sea.
-Rough-and-Ready took the lining out of his wide-awake hat; and he and
-Joshua held it out until it was soaked with the blessed drops. The
-first use they made of the piece of wet rag was to moisten the women's
-lips with it, and then the little girl's and their own. Little Emma
-lived still; and Minnie had taken charge of her. As Joshua moistened
-Mrs. Liddle's lips, the captain, who was lying beside her, motioned
-him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is all over with me, Marvel,&quot; he gasped; &quot;I haven't long to live.
-If by God's mercy you are rescued, report me at home and say I did all
-in my power to save the ship.&quot; Joshua pressed the dying captain's hand.
-&quot;Mind, you are first in command now. In a few hours you will be
-captain. You have risen quickly,&quot; he said with a faint smile. &quot;Beware
-of Scadbolt and that Lascar dog. When I am dead, take my boots--you
-have none--and what of my clothes may be useful to you; take the
-log-book too, and keep it safe. There is a record in it of Scadbolt's
-conduct, and your promotion. It will be necessary in case a ship picks
-you up. Scadbolt was your superior officer when we left the port of
-Sydney; and he might bring a charge against you, which, without the
-log-book, you would not be able to refute.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua thanked the captain for his thoughtfulness, and expressed a
-hope that it was not so bad with him as he feared. Then the captain
-told Joshua how, a few days before, he had struck his head against a
-piece of iron, and how he had lost a quantity of blood. Joshua put his
-hand to the back of the captain's head, round which a piece of canvas
-was tied, and felt a great gash there.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I did not tell any one; but it so weakened me, that I thought I was
-about to die then. This is a piteous sight!&quot; pointing to his wife. She
-lay, pale as death, with her eyes wide open, gazing at the gardens in
-the air. The tears rolled down Joshua's face. &quot;Bury us together,&quot;
-continued the captain. &quot;There are two or three pieces of iron you
-might put into the canvas with us, so we may sink at once. You will do
-this?'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Captain Liddle pressed Joshua's hand, and creeping close to his wife
-clasped her in his arms. In the mean time Rough-and-Ready was busy
-squeezing drops of fresh water into a bottle. He saved nearly a pint.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Shortly after that, Joshua was the first to see land. He went to tell
-the Captain, but could not arouse him; his heart still beat, but very
-faintly. Night came on soon; and when day dawned again the land was
-gone. Rough-and-Ready came to Joshua with a grave face. He said
-nothing; but Joshua understood him. They went to where the lifeless
-bodies of the captain and his wife lay, and sewed them in canvas, and
-placed inside the pieces of iron, as Joshua had promised. Joshua read
-the burial-service as the bodies were thrown into the sea. They sank
-at once.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not many of us left,&quot; observed Rough-and-Ready. &quot;I should like to see
-land again. If we don't sight it soon, we may find that the worst has
-not yet come. It is as Scadbolt said when the rules were being read,
-'Every man for himself now, and God for us all.' But come what may
-we'll stick to each other and to the women.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It does my heart good to hear you speak so,&quot; said Joshua. &quot;I know
-what you mean: the worst men are left against us; but we are a match
-for them, I think. See, here's the log-book, with the poor skipper's
-last words: 'I appoint Joshua Marvel captain of this raft, made out of
-the spars of the &quot;Merry Andrew,&quot; and intrust to him the charge of the
-surviving passengers and crew.--John Liddle, Master of the &quot;Merry
-Andrew.&quot;'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready touched his hat in sailor fashion.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;While we are at sea, captain,&quot; he said, &quot;I will obey your orders.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A thrill ran through Joshua as he heard himself called captain.
-Captain! But of what a crew! The promotion had come all too soon.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Before long he had to exercise his authority. They were being, driven
-on to a reef by a strong current. It was necessary to get the raft
-into deep water before dark. He gave his orders; and although both
-Scadbolt and the Lascar saw the wisdom of them, they refused to obey.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am captain,&quot; said Scadbolt. &quot;You will obey my orders now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then Rough-and-Ready took a double-barrelled pistol from his belt, and
-gave its fellow to Joshua. They covered Scadbolt and the Lascar with
-them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Obey orders!&quot; cried Rough-and-Ready in as loud a voice as he could
-command. &quot;Obey orders! Speak another word of disobedience, and you are
-dead men!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The rebellious men were cowed. With scowling faces they worked as
-Joshua directed: and with some trouble they got the raft clear over
-the reef, and floated it into deeper water. The night that followed
-was a night of great anxiety. Joshua knew that they were near land;
-and he and Rough-and-Ready kept watches of two hours' duration in
-turn. The reason of this was, that they did not deem it safe to sleep
-both at the same time; for they suspected that Scadbolt and the Lascar
-were only waiting for the opportunity to fall upon them and kill them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We have all the fire-arms, thank goodness,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready,
-&quot;and all the powder and shot. We are masters while we can keep these.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He had kept a sharp guard over the firearms, and had indeed secretly
-dropped three guns into the sea. &quot;Better there than in those rascals'
-hands,&quot; he wisely thought; &quot;we mustn't cumber ourselves with too much
-lumber.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In the night Joshua whispered to Rachel Homebush and Minnie that
-to-morrow probably would decide their fate. They revived somewhat at
-the news, and Minnie directed Joshua's attention to little Emma
-Pigeon.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She has not spoken all day,&quot; said Minnie anxiously.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua placed his hand on the little girl's heart; it beat, but very
-faintly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She will live, Minnie,&quot; said Joshua, &quot;if we can reach land; we are
-certain to find food then.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">While they spoke, Minnie kept Joshua's hand in hers; it was her only
-comfort, poor child. He was kneeling by her side, and she saw in his
-face that he had no harsh thoughts for her. They had not exchanged a
-word about their friends at home, but Minnie said to-night,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Joshua, when you first came to our little room--do you
-remember?--what should we have thought if a wizard had told us this?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What, indeed!&quot; replied Joshua; and then, after a pause, &quot;Do you
-suffer much, Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not now. Ah, Joshua, if I can only live to repay you!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Keep up your courage, Minnie, and pray that we may reach friendly
-land--any land--to-morrow,&quot; was his answer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She did pray fervently, and when daylight came they saw land. It did
-not look very friendly. A long line of dark savage-looking rocks was
-what they saw; towering gloomily and threateningly for the most part,
-but with many a little inlet, which offered them a favorable chance of
-landing, as Joshua's seaman's eye discerned. There were only eight
-living persons now on the raft out of the thirty-five who first took
-shelter there. Five men--to wit, Joshua, Rough-and-Ready, Scadbolt,
-the Lascar, and the sailmaker; two women--Rachel Homebush and Minnie,
-and the little girl Emma. The men worked and watched with a will.
-Private animosities were for the time forgotten; but for all that,
-Rough-and-Ready was never off his guard. Every thing looked fair, when
-suddenly up sprang a land breeze, and they were driven to sea again;
-the hope that had been kindled died away. They caught a cod, but the
-women turned from it with loathing. Then Joshua thought of a fine
-thing. The sun was high in the heavens. He took a piece of rag and
-washed it and dried it; then he took a magnifying glass out of a
-telescope, and caught the sun's fire on to the rag. He had wood ready,
-and they made a fire on the raft. The sailors ate their portion of the
-fish raw; but Joshua put his and the women's and Rough-and-Ready's on
-the wood, and roasted it. Before they gave this delicious food to the
-women, they moistened their lips with a little of the water that was
-still left in Rough-and-Ready's bottle; the moistening and the food
-were new life to them all Minnie chewed a little of the fish and
-placed it in the child's mouth; the child swallowed it, with
-difficulty at first, and seemed to grow stronger soon afterwards; she
-had been better nourished than the others. As if in reward for this
-good thought of Joshua's, the wind shifted to a sea breeze, and a
-couple of hours before mid-night they were driven on to land. It
-required the greatest care and the most delicate handling to steer the
-raft safely through the rocks; but it was done. Scadbolt and the
-Lascar were about to scramble on to the rocks, when Rough-and-Ready,
-in a voice of thunder--he seemed suddenly to have recovered his full
-strength--commanded them to stand. Not his voice, but his pistol,
-enforced obedience.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why?&quot; demanded Scadbolt.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because you are treacherous dogs,&quot; roared Rough-and-Ready; &quot;because
-you are not men, but savages; because I know how such scum are to be
-treated. Ah! scowl as you will I but I have shot better men than you
-down before to-night, and I'll shoot <i>you</i> down if you dare to stir,
-as I would a brace of treacherous dingos or Blacks--they're much the
-same. The women and child are to be saved first. Why, if we allowed
-you to get ashore, you'd strike us from the rocks before we got a
-footing! I know you, you see, you skunks. Marvel, take the women and
-little girl ashore first, one by one. I'll keep guard here the while.
-Sailmaker, assist Mr. Marvel.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">By this last masterly stroke Rough-and-Ready enlisted the sailmaker on
-his side, for a time at least. For the sailmaker and Joshua were man
-to man, and Joshua had fire-arms. So, with difficulty, the women and
-child were conveyed on to the rocks in safety; then Rough-and-Ready
-bade Joshua take ashore what things would be useful from the raft.
-Among other things, Joshua took ashore two axes, all the nails he
-could find, and some iron pots. The women also had some things they
-were anxious to preserve--needles and thread and such like. All this
-occupied nearly two hours, and was not accomplished without
-difficulty. Scadbolt and the Lascar stood sullenly by, the while.
-Rough-and-Ready was in his element; he absolutely revelled in the task
-he had set himself. It was as good as meat and drink to him to watch
-those two rascals and beat them through their fears. When Joshua and
-the sailmaker had completed their task, Rough-and-Ready joined them on
-the rocks. After him Scadbolt and the Lascar scrambled on to land, and
-began to look hungrily about them. It was a fine night; the moon was
-nearly at its full. The first thing Rough-and-Ready did was to cast a
-glance at the women lying helpless on the rocks; the next thing he did
-was to smooth his mustache with his hand in a thoughtful manner; the
-next, to send a dark look at Scadbolt and the Lascar, who were
-prowling about on the rocks in search of shell-fish; the next, to lay
-his hand in a familiar manner upon the sailmaker's shoulder.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I say, mate,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready, &quot;have you a wife at home?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Two.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready whistled loud and long, and followed up the whistle
-with a laugh.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It's no joke,&quot; said the sailmaker.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;One isn't, much less two,&quot; replied Rough-and-Ready, with a wink; &quot;but
-never mind them now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I'm content.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You seem a good-hearted fellow, sailmaker, and as you have two
-wives, you must think a great deal of womankind.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I love 'em,&quot;--looking at the two poor creatures lying near them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I'm a bushman myself,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready, with assumed
-carelessness; &quot;I'd as soon be where I am as in any part of the world.
-I am at home here. What do you say, mate? Shall we be friends?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Glad to be.&quot; And the two men shook hands, Rough-and-Ready hugging
-himself for his successful diplomacy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You're a man after my own heart,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready, really
-appreciating the crisp utterances of the sailmaker, who evidently was
-not a word-waster. &quot;Seems to me that the first thing we've got to do
-is to bring the women round; mustn't let them die, eh?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Certainly not.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There's a split in the camp,&quot; continued Rough-and-Ready. &quot;Those two
-rascals prowling about in search of something to eat, would be glad of
-an opportunity to get rid of us; and then God help the women. At all
-events let us three stick together--you and me and Captain Marvel.
-Agreed?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Agreed.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good. What I want to do is to get fresh water for us and the women; I
-know how to look for it. Will you keep guard over the women with
-Captain Marvel till I return?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready placed a loaded pistol in the sailmaker's hand--he did
-it without hesitation--and that act completed the conquest. Joshua,
-standing by, had heard the conversation and now shook hands with the
-sailmaker. Scadbolt and the Lascar had also seen the conference.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They've bought him over,&quot; said the Lascar.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind,&quot; replied Scadbolt, &quot;there will be plenty of
-opportunities.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In less than an hour Rough-and-Ready returned. He had taken two
-bottles with him, and brought them back filled with bright, clear,
-fresh water. He had his wide-awake hat in his hand; it evidently
-contained something good, he was so careful in carrying it. Joshua put
-his hand in, and started back with a cry; he had grasped a nettle.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Careful, careful,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready, laughing at Joshua's
-grimaces; &quot;don't be too eager to take hold of things. A great deal of
-the wood-growth round about-here is covered with thorns, and some of
-them are poisonous to the blood. This isn't, though; 'tis an old
-friend.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He took out of his hat two small branches with long spines upon them;
-the branches were covered with fruit resembling a small apple.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good to eat?&quot; asked the sailmaker.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Shouldn't have brought them otherwise,&quot; answered Rough-and-Ready, in
-unconscious imitation of the sailmaker's manner of speaking.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The sailmaker took some of the fruit and ate it, and would have taken
-more, but that Rough-and-Ready's hand restrained him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's not the way for a man to eat who has been nearly starved for
-six weeks,&quot; he said, &quot;unless he wants to kill himself right out. Here,
-make yourself useful; but take a little water to drink first.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready measured a small quantity of water, and gave the
-sailmaker and Joshua to drink. He had thrown down a couple of pieces
-of wood when he said &quot;Make yourself useful,&quot; and the sailmaker, after
-drinking, asked him what the wood was for.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A good job for you two that you have me for your mate,&quot; said
-Rough-and-Ready good-humoredly; &quot;you might stand a chance of starving
-else. The enemy&quot;--with a nod of his head in the direction of Scadbolt
-and the Lascar--&quot;won't be half as well off as we shall be. Just watch
-me.&quot; He took his knife and cut from the wood two pieces, in one of
-which he made a kind of groove, which he placed upon the ground. &quot;This
-is off the black fig-tree, and is the best wood there is for making
-fire. Now rub away into the groove, steadily, like this, and keep
-rubbing. It's hard work; but never mind; it's worth the labor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He disappeared again, leaving the sailmaker at work, and returned
-with an armful of dry sticks and leaves. Soon fire came into the wood,
-the sparks dropped on to the dry leaves, and a blaze was kindled, that
-brought astonishment into the eyes of Scadbolt and the Lascar. Before
-the fire was made, the indefatigable bushman had gone <i>down</i> the rocks
-this time, and had returned with a hat full of mussels. These he put
-on the fire to cook; and then sat down and rubbed his hands in a high
-state of satisfaction. Joshua had not been idle; he had attended to
-the women and child, and had given them a little water, which was like
-nectar to them. They were too weak to exert themselves; so the men sat
-by them and ate supper, and gave them to eat, sparingly, under the
-direction of Rough-and-Ready, who was regarded by the others with
-unbounded admiration. The warmth of the fire was very comforting to
-them, for although summer was coming, their long sojourn on the raft
-had chilled their blood.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well now,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready, when supper was over, &quot;I think we
-ought to be very grateful for our escape. It was touch-and-go with us.
-We sha'n't be very strong for a few days; and that's what we've got to
-do first: to get strong. Then we can look about us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where are we?&quot; whispered Minnie.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;As well as I can make out, my dear, we are somewhere on the
-north-east coast of the continent of Australia; where I don't believe
-a white man ever trod foot before. That's something, isn't it? We're
-the first bits of civilization that these rocks have ever seen.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is there any chance of a ship seeing us?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I doubt it; but for my part I don't want a ship to see me; I've had
-enough of ships. I feel at home here, or I shall feel so in a little
-while. I don't doubt but what we shall be able to get plenty to eat
-and drink, and that's our first great need. Try and sleep for an hour
-now. Strength is what we want, remember.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rachel Homebush turned to him and held out her hand. She was grateful
-for being saved, but she did not speak. The three men arranged to get
-a little rest also, watch and watch in turn. It was Rough-and-Ready's
-watch first. Before Joshua lay down, he went to see if Minnie was
-asleep. Her eyes were closed, but she was aware of his approach.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is you, Joshua?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Minnie. Do you think you can sleep?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know; I am strangely excited. I thank God that you are saved.
-Joshua,&quot; rising to a sitting posture and taking his hand, &quot;you will
-not be unkind to me now that we are out of danger?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Surely not, Minnie. What makes you ask?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I was afraid, that was all.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Here the little child murmured something. Minnie placed her ear to the
-girl's lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She asked who was talking to me, and I told her you,&quot; said Minnie,
-taking Little Emma upon her lap. &quot;She wants you to kiss her.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua stooped and kissed the little girl, and she put her arms round
-his neck, and asked where papa had gone to. Joshua turned away, and
-pressing Minnie's hand, was soon afterwards in the land of dreams. So,
-during the night, they slept and watched, and in their troubled dreams
-felt the rocks moving and swaying beneath them. Every now and then
-they started in terror, and clutched what was nearest to them, as if
-life was slipping away; they suffered over again the agonies of
-thirst, and moved their parched lips entreatingly. When it was
-Joshua's watch, he observed the sufferings of his sleeping companions;
-he guessed the cause, for he had suffered himself in like manner. With
-merciful thoughtfulness he moistened their lips with fresh water; the
-women smiled and grew more composed; perhaps at that moment they
-dreamed that an angel was bringing them life and health. Minnie's head
-was lying on her hand, and her face was exposed to the light. It was
-sun-burnt, but the gypsy stain was dying out of it. Her hair too was
-growing lighter and longer. Joshua looked up at the sky and round
-about him at the strange scene. Over his head the light of day was
-just breaking, but the dusky shadows still lay upon the waters. Behind
-him a faint light, heralding the sun, was quivering on distant wood
-and upland.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dan made me promise,&quot; he said softly to himself, as the wonderful
-strangeness of his position came upon him, &quot;when I was seeing strange
-sights in strange places, to think, 'Dan is here with me, although I
-cannot see him.' <i>Is</i> Dan here with me now? Is it possible that he can
-have the vaguest idea of me as I stand, heart-wrecked, in this wild
-country? I will try to believe so; I will try to believe that he and
-Ellen see me as I am, know me as I am, and pity me. I could die here
-now contentedly, if that were a conviction. Ellen, dear wife! Dan,
-dear friend! dear mother and father! stand fast to me, and believe
-that I never wavered in my love and my truth!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">This was his theme that he thought of and mused upon, while all the
-others were asleep. The rocks were burnished with golden light before
-they awoke.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h4>
-
-<h5>ON THE ROCKS.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">As the sailmaker was stretching himself, Rough-and-Ready, who
-was
-already stirring, said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I say, mate what name shall we call you by?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Isn't Sailmaker good enough?&quot; was the Irish answer.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It's good enough; but it's no name.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Tom, for short, then.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That'll do, Tom; it's like your talk, short, and to the point.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">From that time they talked of him as Tom the Sailmaker.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We're going to look for something for breakfast, Marvel,&quot; said
-Rough-and-Ready. &quot;Don't wake the women--let them have their sleep out.
-And keep your eye on those two rascals yonder. If they come to close
-quarters, have no mercy. They'd have none on you. Come along, Tom.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They returned some two hours afterwards, with smiling faces. The women
-gathered hope from their cheerful countenances. The sailmaker was
-loaded with wood to replenish the fire, which had not been allowed to
-go out during the night.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We're going to have a fine breakfast,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready,
-flourishing half a dozen plump pigeons. He chuckled as he exhibited
-them; but he had no time for trifling. There was more serious business
-to attend to--the cooking of the pigeons.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">With those and a few mussels they made a breakfast fit for kings and
-queens. The two malcontents in the distance had no fire and no
-pigeons; they made their breakfast off cold shell-fish, and looked
-with envious eyes at the cooking going on among the other party.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, ah, my fine fellows!&quot; cried Rough-and-Ready, waving half a
-roasted pigeon in the air; &quot;what d'ye think of mutineering now?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They could not hear him, but they understood his taunting action.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Said Rough-and-Ready to the women, when breakfast was finished,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Can you handle a pistol? Could you pull the trigger of one straight
-in the face of man or beast, if danger threatened?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They looked at him inquiringly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You might have to do it,&quot; continued Rough-and-Ready; &quot;so you had
-better learn, and be prepared.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But why?&quot; they asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You see, my dears, there are two parties of us. Here we are, one
-party. Yonder are two rascals, another party. We are not the best of
-friends, we two parties. If they could get rid of us, they would. By
-fair means they can't; but they might try foul. Now I take it that we
-men have to look after you and protect you--and you may depend upon us
-for doing our best, my dears. We must see to every thing--food,
-lodging, protection from storms and from savage Blacks. That may take
-us away from you sometimes, and those rascals might steal upon you
-unaware. Or another thing might happen: we might fall sick. Then who
-will protect you? Or another thing--But, pshaw! there are a dozen
-other reasons why you should learn to use fire-arms.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Without more ado he showed them how to load a pistol and fire it,
-and indeed was not content until they did it to his satisfaction.
-Minnie was the more expert of the two; she soon learned. Then said
-Rough-and-Ready,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, we are going to take a walk. A mile, I dare say. We shall be
-followed, you'll see; the enemy will want to know where we are going.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready took Little Emma in his arms, the sailmaker assisted
-Rachel Homebush, and Joshua attended to Minnie. As Rough-and-Ready
-expected, Scadbolt and the Lascar followed them at a distance.
-Rough-and-Ready led the way over the rocks, on to sand, into forest.
-They were nearly an hour before they came to the end of their journey,
-for the women were very weak and could walk but slowly. Without any
-forewarning, Rough-and-Ready stopped.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Here is another thing I have to teach you. A native call.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And to their astonishment, he put his hands to his mouth and emitted a
-shrill cry, that rang through the woods and seemed to linger there.
-The word he uttered was &quot;Coo-&#275;&#275;!&quot; and the sound was composed of
-two notes, the second an octave higher than the first. He made them
-all repeat the cry after him many times, and made them dwell on the
-notes as long as their breath lasted.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If we miss each other, and lose our way, that cry will be a signal.
-You have no idea how far it will travel, if you dwell long enough on
-the notes. Now, you&quot; (to the men) &quot;stop here for a little while. You,&quot;
-(to the women) &quot;follow me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They obeyed him unhesitatingly. He led the women over a rise in the
-woodland, where the trees were thickly grouped; and when they were on
-the declivity on the other side, they saw at the base of the rise a
-lovely creek of fresh water sparkling in the sun.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You will not be disturbed for an hour,&quot; he said, and darted away.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They divined the meaning of this delicate thoughtfulness, and with
-full confidence in him and his party they made their way to the creek,
-and bathed and combed their hair. (I vouch for the comb, but am not
-prepared to say where it came from, for the cunning of woman is beyond
-me.) The men looked at them with astonishment when they came back,
-sleek and trim. They appeared to have grown a dozen years younger.
-They blushed and smiled as the men gazed at them, and Little Emma
-lisped, &quot;It was so nice!&quot; Even Rachel looked brighter and more
-womanly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">After them, the men went in turns and bathed, and by that time they
-were hungry enough for their dinner. Rough-and-Ready had already
-provided it, having shot a sufficient number of birds for three or
-four meals. Nothing could satisfy them after dinner but to go to the
-rocks, and look seaward for the sight of a ship. Rough-and-Ready
-declared it was useless. &quot;Time thrown away,&quot; he said. &quot;If we see a
-ship, we have no means of signalling it; and even if we had, 'tis a
-thousand to one that they would not see the signal.&quot; But all-potent as
-his authority and advice were in every other matter, he could not
-prevail upon them to cast away the hope of being rescued by that
-means. Before night came they made their way back to the woods, and
-constructed some rough tents with branches of trees, to sleep in. As
-they were collecting suitable timber, Rough-and-Ready, who never
-omitted an opportunity to instruct his companions in the resources of
-the country, called their attention to a group of curiously-twisted
-trees, which he said were apple-trees, although there was no fruit on
-them. On nearly every one of them, three or four feet from the ground,
-was a large knob, bulging out like a tumor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;See how bountiful Nature is,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready. &quot;You need seldom
-be in want of water or food, if you know the secrets of the bush.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He dug his knife into one of the knobs, and fresh water ran out of the
-wood. They tasted it, and found it very sweet.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was a beautiful night, and they sat talking for some time before
-they retired to rest. Their strength was recruited by the nourishing
-food they had eaten, and by the bath they had had. They had not seen
-the Lascar or Scadbolt since the morning, and they deemed it prudent
-to keep watch during the night. Now that the first excitement of being
-saved was over, their thoughts turned to their unfortunate companions
-who had found a grave in the cruel sea, and they shed pitiful tears
-over the memory of the dead.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready's experience of the Australian natives was largely
-drawn upon during the night. Although he said nothing of his past
-career, it was evident that he was well acquainted with every thing
-appertaining to Australian bush-life. His descriptions of the natives
-were not comforting; he described them as treacherous, mean, and
-cruel. As to their chances of escape, he declared that there was no
-hope from the sea. Their best plan would be to try and work their way
-southward, but not for some time, until they were quite strong.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We will camp here,&quot; he said, &quot;for two or three weeks at least, and
-try and learn something about the country.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But he told Joshua, when they two were alone, that he only said that
-to console the women.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We can manage to live here; but to get south we should have to cross
-country, where we should almost certainly be starved to death or
-butchered by the Blacks.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The prospect was dismal indeed; they seemed to be cut off from the
-world.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Notwithstanding that the women shuddered and trembled as they listened
-to Rough-and-Ready's account of the natives, with whom they were
-almost certain to come in contact soon, the subject was too
-fascinating to be avoided. So, being compelled to talk about them, he
-spoke of many strange things concerning them. The conversation turning
-upon their superstitions, he told his hearers of the savage beliefs in
-water-spirits and land-spirits, who are all females, and walk about
-without heads; of the Oorundoo, who comes out of the water to drown
-bad wives; of the Balumbal, a gentle race of spirits who live upon the
-sweet leaves of flowers; of the Bunyip, a monster who lives in the
-large lakes, and who issues therefrom to seize women and children;
-Potoyan, a spirit of darkness, whose Whisper strikes terror; and of
-many other singular beliefs.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Said Rough-and-Ready, &quot;There is no surer way to frighten the blacks
-than through their superstitious fears. Their 'doctors' can work upon
-them as they please.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua had taken care of his accordion, and had preserved it almost
-uninjured. He played, and they all listened wonderingly to the soft
-notes of &quot;Home, sweet home,&quot; floating through the woods. It was like a
-dream; they could scarcely believe they were awake. When he ceased
-playing, a melancholy cuckoo-note came from the distant woods.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis the more-pork, a night-bird,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready. &quot;I never
-heard it sing in the day.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They retired to their beds of dry leaves soon after that, and dreamed
-of the strange things they had heard. But Joshua could not sleep. Some
-time before midnight--it might have been an hour--he rose and wandered
-away from the camp, through the solemn woods. He took no notice of the
-groups of majestic trees through which he walked--here masses of the
-silver-leaved iron-bark; there thick clusters of the gigantic palm,
-woven together, as it were, by luxuriant vines trailing through their
-topmost branches. Strange effects of light and shade were produced by
-this natural network; but Joshua took no heed of them, nor of the
-other wonders of the woods by which he was encompassed. A sense of
-awful desolation was upon him; tremblingly he retraced his steps till
-he came to the camp, where he sank upon the ground exhausted by
-emotion. The full moon rose and shed its light upon him. He took from
-his breast the Bible which Dan had given him, and read upon its first
-page, &quot;From Dan, with undying love and confidence.&quot; Those words did
-much to calm him; he kissed them, and pressed the book to his heart,
-and gradually fell into a deep sleep.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h4>
-
-<h5>BITTER REVELATIONS.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Here in the grand Australian woods are two tents--gunyahs,
-Rough-and-Ready calls them--built of tea-tree bark, bound round by
-vine creepers. They are in the form of a hive, and are wonderfully
-picturesque and comfortable. Up to this time, the castaway dwellers in
-these gunyahs have been undisturbed by savages, and this has been a
-matter of surprise to all but Rough-and-Ready. &quot;Wait till after the
-rainy season,&quot; he has said a dozen times; &quot;we shall have plenty of
-them then.&quot; Rough-and-Ready has made this &quot;rainy season&quot; a pretext for
-lingering near the spot where they first camped after their rescue. It
-would be suicide, he told them, to attempt to move at present; they
-would not be able to make their way through the country. But indeed
-all of them, with the exception of Joshua, were content to remain
-where they were; they dreaded to encounter the horrors of the wild
-country through which they would have to pass. Joshua was the only one
-who fretted at their life of inaction. It seemed to him the cruellest
-thing to remain passive while Ellen and Dan and his parents were
-waiting for him at home. But what could he do? Without the assistance
-of Rough-and-Ready he was powerless; and that wise man of the woods
-declared emphatically that it would be madness to start upon such an
-expedition. So Joshua was compelled to wait for events to shape his
-destiny, and fretted and worried because he could take no hand in the
-direction of them. It was a good thing for him that he had plenty to
-do; he might else have lost his reason. Rough-and-Ready was the best
-of physicians; he would not allow any of his companions to be idle,
-and he took care to supply them with more work than they could
-conveniently accomplish. He derived a huge pleasure from this cunning
-proceeding, and had many a sly laugh to himself because of it. The
-building of the gunyahs was a matter in which he took especial
-delight, and he and his mates labored at them for many days; when they
-were finished, Rough-and-Ready declared that they were better than the
-finest stone houses that ever were built. The women took delight in
-them also, and decorated them with the prettiest creepers they could
-find. During all this time they were not molested by Scadbolt and the
-Lascar. In their rambles through the woods they occasionally came upon
-traces of the two rascals and caught distant glimpses of them, but
-they never came to close quarters. Once Scadbolt had attempted to
-make overtures; but he was warned off with small ceremony by
-Rough-and-Ready, who declined to parley with him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">On a certain moonlight night, not many nights ago, Rough-and-Ready
-invited Joshua to accompany him on an expedition. Coming to a place
-where the moon was shining over the tops of the gum-trees
-Rough-and-Ready motioned Joshua to be still, and in a few minutes they
-heard a call, half scream, half chatter. Presently Rough-and-Ready
-raised his gun, pulled the trigger, and down came two animals shaped
-like cats, with long brushy tails, sharp claws and something like
-thumbs on their hind feet.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Possums,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready in explanation.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He had found out a haunt of these animals, and that night they brought
-back more than a dozen, some ring-tailed, some silver. They could
-only be shot on moonlight nights, said Rough-and-Ready, and are
-chiefly found where the gum or peppermint-tree abounds. They had a
-splendid harvest, and in a week they collected nearly a hundred,
-Rough-and-Ready was mighty particular about the skinning of them, and
-about rubbing the fleshy parts of the skins with fine wood-ashes
-before fixing them on the trees to dry. They also caught a score or so
-of the sugar-squirrel, whose fur is real chinchilla. Upon these skins
-Minnie and Rachel are busy now with needle and thread, making caps for
-the men. It is a strange sight to see such evidences of civilization
-in the wild woods. The women had begged Rough-and-Ready to spare the
-lives of two young opossums which were found alive in their mothers'
-pouches, and he, knowing that they could be easily tamed, had readily
-consented. They were the most docile and harmless little things, and
-soon became domesticated, if such a word may properly be used in the
-life I am describing. At the present time, one of them is hanging head
-downwards, with its tail curled round the branch of a tree, in a state
-of serene happiness and content. The other is with Little Emma, who is
-sitting not far from the women, playing with it in the midst of a
-great heap of wild flowers she has collected.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The females are not alone. Two of the men are away, but Joshua is in
-sight, busy with his axe cutting up a tree for slabs. To tell truth,
-Rough-and-Ready is not desirous of moving from the woods where they
-are now camped, unless they are compelled to do so by the savages or
-by unforeseen circumstances. They are camped upon high land, where
-they are comparatively safe from floods; the country round about is
-fairly stocked with game; and there is water in abundance--somewhat of
-a rare circumstance, and, rarer still, the water is sweet. As for the
-life itself, none could be more attractive to him. The slabs that
-Joshua is cutting now are designed for a fence round their homestead.
-&quot;Even if Blacks come,&quot; thought Rough-and-Ready &quot;and they are not
-inclined to be friendly, we may frighten them away with our guns.&quot; He
-is very sparing of their powder and shot, of which they have not too
-large a store, and has taught his companions to make and lay many
-kinds of cunning snares for game. He is a thorough bushman, and in his
-present circumstances is certainly the right man in the right place.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The character of Rachel Homebush appears to have completely changed.
-The trials she has gone through have softened her hitherto hard
-nature. No stony-voiced exhortations to repent drop from her lips; she
-is humanized and humbled. But a short time since she was intolerant,
-arrogant, harsh, and proudly-insolent in her armor of sanctity; but
-now she has doffed that armor, and has inward doubts of herself: She
-believes in the goodness of others. She is less sanctified and more
-godly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Said Rough-and-Ready to Joshua, when they were talking of the women--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Rachel Homebush is a different creature to what she was. She is not
-so good as she was, and I think she's all the better for it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua smiled at this paradox, and said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;At all events she has a different opinion of you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Think so, mate?&quot; asked Rough-and-Ready, a little anxiously. &quot;I'm
-sorry for it, in one way. There's only one woman&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But he paused unaccountably in the middle of his speech, looked at
-Minnie, who was a few yards away, looked at Joshua, and walked off
-whistling.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Here is the picture. Two hives, bright with flowering creepers; Rachel
-and Minnie sitting in the shadow of the hives, on stumps of trees,
-making fur caps; a 'possum hanging by its tail, studying gravitation;
-the little child, not far away, lying on the ground, surrounded by
-wild flowers, playing with her pet; in the distance, Joshua busy with
-his axe; surrounding and encompassing all, bright sky and lovely
-forest. Rachel, raising her eyes from her work, looks at the child in
-the midst of her garden, and a soft expression rests upon her face.
-The child sees the look, and thrusting the 'possum in the bosom of her
-frock, runs towards Rachel with a handful of flowers. Rachel kisses
-the child, strokes the silky coat of the 'possum, and selecting a
-piece of wild jasmine, places it in her breast. Then Little Emma goes
-to the back of Minnie, and twines some of the brightest flowers in
-Minnie's beautiful hair; and after falling back and admiring the
-effect of her handiwork, whispers to Minnie to get up, for she wants
-to show her something. Minnie smiles and rises, and they walk hand in
-hand to where Emma's wild flowers are, but the child leads her farther
-on, in the direction of Joshua. Made aware of the child's intention,
-Minnie falters, and tries to release her hand gently; but Little Emma
-clings to her, and laughingly strives to pull her along. Joshua's
-attention is attracted to the gentle struggle, and, coming forward, he
-asks the meaning of it. The child explains that she wanted Joshua to
-see how pretty the flowers looked in Minnie's hair, and that Minnie
-tried to run away. Joshua looks at Minnie, who stands trembling before
-him, as if she were guilty of some deep offence. Her bosom is heaving,
-her eyes are luminous with tears, her face is bright with blushes, and
-the tell-tale blood dyes her fair neck. Surely he has never looked
-upon a more beautiful picture! He says some kind words to her, and she
-goes back to her place near Rachel, and he to his work. But, within a
-few minutes afterwards, he swings his axe over his shoulder, and walks
-away in deep thought. The bees are humming about him, many-colored
-locusts and golden-green grasshoppers flit among the tangled
-brushwood, gorgeous butterflies skim through the air; the gaudy beetle
-creeps lazily along; the praying mantis, with its leaf-like wings,
-darts before him; the tree-frog utters its strange cry; a great
-lizard, with a frill round its neck, disappears at the sound of his
-step. He walks past these and myriad other wonders of the woods, until
-the character of the country changes, and he finds himself among rocky
-gullies, with many a fissure in the stony ranges that lead down to
-them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The buzz of woodland life has ceased; unfathomable silence seems to
-dwell in these rocky hills and valleys. But suddenly a sharp
-shrill note sounds upon the air. It is a bird's note, but no mate's
-voice replies. It is like himself; solitary in the midst of this
-ungracious scene, which frowningly proclaims, &quot;Love finds here no
-dwelling-place.&quot; Again the note sounds, and as he makes his way toward
-it, curious to see what kind of bird haunts so desolate a place, he
-hears a faint echo answer--a voice with no soul in it, he thinks in
-his then melancholy mood. He comes to the opening of a small cave, the
-walls of which assume fantastic shapes in the dim light. And there,
-uttering its wail, to which only mocking echoes make response, he sees
-the Solitary Warbler standing alone in the centre of the cave, like
-the Cain of its race. He sighs and walks on--over the rocky range,
-into woodland again, where the ground dips, and where the rich soil is
-teeming with new wonders; and coming to a great pool, he sits down by
-its side. He has been to this spot before. Chancing upon it by
-accident in one of his rambles, he was attracted by its beauty, and by
-the singular effect of the shifting shadows upon the bosom of the
-pool, whose surface is almost covered by lovely pink-and-white
-water-lilies. He looks now into the water, and sees his haggard face
-reflected between the beautifully-colored lilies. And singularly
-enough he sees at the same time, with the eyes of his mind, the
-picture of Minnie as she stood before him, with eyes downcast and the
-flowers in her hair. It is because he was disturbed by thought of her
-that he left his work. He knows her secret but too well. She loves him
-with all her soul. She tells it in every look, in every word; every
-little act of hers towards him is imbued with dangerous tenderness,
-and yet she is unconscious of wrong. Every day she grows more
-devoted--every day grows more beautiful. And it is a part of his great
-misery to feel that her society gives him pleasure as well as pain. He
-is storm-tossed by a conflict of feeling. In this conflict no
-miserable vanity finds place, although it might be well excused in
-most men in such a position; nor is he by a thought false to Ellen.
-But Minnie is dependent upon him, lives upon his kindness, asks
-nothing from him but gentle speech. Shall he deny her this? Shall he
-be false to his nature, and be harsh where harshness would be
-brutality? He is strong; she is weak. Her power is in her weakness;
-his weakness is in his strength. She leans upon him for support, and
-rules by submission.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Something stirs behind him. A sound so light that it might have been
-produced by the fall of a leaf or by the swaying of a bough from which
-a bird has flown. Joshua, whose senses have been quickened by his late
-experience, turns rapidly, and meets the Lascar face to face. In the
-woods thought and action are twin-like. Quick as lightning Joshua's
-pistol is in his hand, and the muzzle is pointed straight at the
-Lascar's breast.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Stand!&quot; cries Joshua, &quot;if you value your life.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Lascar stands motionless, his hands behind him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Show your hands and what is in them, or I fire.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Lascar shows his hands--a large piece of rock in one. He had seen
-Joshua sitting by the pool, and had intended to brain him with the
-stone. At Joshua's command, he drops the stone. A bitter smile
-wreathes Joshua's lips, and something like a savage instinct whispers
-to him to shoot his enemy dead upon the spot. But the thought that it
-would be nothing less than murder restrains him. The Lascar sees the
-struggle in Joshua's face, and trembles; miserable wretch as he is he
-has not conquered the fear of death. He is re-assured when Joshua
-drops his hand and moves away, still facing him. At this, fear being
-subdued, the venom in his nature begins to work. Shall he let his
-enemy depart without a sting? He commences with a piece of bravado.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah,&quot; he exclaimed, &quot;you have robbed me, but you can't make up your
-mind to murder me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Robbed you!&quot; exclaims Joshua, forgetting for a moment. &quot;Of what?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Of my knife. Give it me back. I can't hurt you with it. You are more
-than a match for me with your pistols. How do you think I can live
-without a knife?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua makes no reply to this appeal to his humanity, and moves off a
-few steps, warily.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I suppose you think yourself a manly sort of fellow,&quot; continues the
-Lascar, moving step for step with Joshua, but keeping at a safe
-distance nevertheless, &quot;robbing people of their knives, threatening to
-murder them, and running away with an innocent girl, and ruining her!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You villain!&quot; exclaims Joshua, quivering at this reference to Minnie,
-&quot;do not make me forget myself!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So far as to shoot a man in cold blood!&quot; sneers the Lascar. &quot;But
-don't forget that the first time you struck me it was for running
-after a woman. What better are you than me? I ran after a woman, not
-an innocent girl. Perhaps you'll say you didn't trick her from her
-father's house, and make love to another girl, her friend, all the
-while, and that girl the sister of the man you pretended such fondness
-for! Going to be married to her too, I heard. But I can tell you
-something you don't know. You were precious sly with your sweetheart,
-Ellen Taylor, in Gravesend; she wouldn't suspect you, I dare say you
-thought, if you had her down at Gravesend until the ship sailed--she
-wouldn't have an idea then that your other sweetheart, Minnie Kindred,
-with her face stained brown, was waiting for you on board the 'Merry
-Andrew.' Ah! you played a cunning game, you pink of perfection, you
-sailor-hero; but I outwitted you, I think, in a way you're not aware
-of.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How?&quot; asks Joshua, constrained to listen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How? I watched you, and was paid for it. You little thought that, did
-you? I'll tell you something more. The man who paid me for watching
-had a fancy for your sweetheart Ellen: you've no need to ask me who he
-is, for you'll not find out through me. I did my duty to him, and he
-paid me for it. Why, directly I set eyes on that brown-faced
-gypsy-maid aboard the 'Merry Andrew,' I says, 'Minnie Kindred, by
-God!' and I set a trap for her, and she fell into it. Then what did I
-do? I sent a letter to my master by the pilot, and told him to go to
-Minnie Kindred's father, and to Dan, and to your mother and father,
-and to your other sweetheart, Ellen, and let them know that you had
-run away with the girl, that you parted from Ellen Taylor one minute,
-and was courting Minnie Kindred aboard ship the next. Was that a good
-game to play? Was I as cunning as you? Was that paying you for what
-you first did to me? Do you remember what I said, when you called me a
-dog of a Lascar? I told you that the Lascar dog never forgets--never,
-never! Why, now I look into your face, I could hug myself to think
-that we're wrecked, and that we shall die and rot here, every one of
-us, and that your sweetheart (who's my master's sweetheart now, I'll
-be sworn) and your friends know you for what you are--a mean false
-hound! I put a cross against you once, and I swore to have your
-heart's blood. Have I had as good? Think of it, and tell me if I have
-had my revenge.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But he does not wait to be told. There is so dangerous a look in
-Joshua's face, that he darts away and disappears in the bush. It is
-well for him that he has escaped, for Joshua is maddened by what he
-has heard. Truly the Lascar has struck at him with a cunning hand. The
-agony of his soul is shown in the convulsive twitching of his
-features, in his white lips, and in the veins of his strong hand,
-which swell almost to bursting as he grasps a stout branch for
-support. So he remains fighting with his agony with a bleeding heart,
-for full half an hour. This knowledge that he has gained is more
-bitter than all the rest. He knows the worst now. The evidence against
-him is awful in its completeness. &quot;Even the Old Sailor will believe me
-guilty,&quot; he thinks, and groans aloud at the thought. But there is one
-duty before him to do. He must tell Minnie. This last resolve comes
-upon him when the force of his first passion is somewhat spent.
-Between him and Minnie no word has ever passed of those at home; their
-very names have been avoided. But Joshua now makes up his mind that
-silence on this subject must be broken. It <i>must</i>; both for Minnie's
-sake and his own.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It is past sundown. The day has been very hot, and the shadows of
-night bring cooler breezes, grateful to the senses of the castaways.
-Joshua has drawn Minnie a little apart from the others; she, yielding
-to his slightest wish, accompanies him to a part of the forest where
-they can talk unobserved. His first impulse is to ask her why she came
-on board the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; unknown to him, and why she had disguised
-herself from him; but he spares her this pain, and takes from his
-breast Ellen's portrait and her lock of hair, and Dan's Bible. He
-hands Minnie the Bible.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you know what this is?&quot; he asks. &quot;Yes,&quot; she answers; &quot;it is the
-Bible that Dan gave you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Read what is on the first page.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She reads the inscription: &quot;From Dan to his dearest friend and
-brother, Joshua. With undying love and confidence.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You know the love that existed between Dan and me, Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know. It is perfect. Why do you say existed? Surely it exists!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know; I'm afraid to think. Your words are in some sort
-comforting to me; for they prove you have acted in ignorance, and that
-you have not wilfully wronged me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She looks at him imploringly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You will understand presently,&quot; he says.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He takes Ellen's lock of hair, and presses it to his lips, and kisses
-Ellen's portrait also. The hot blood flushes into Minnie's face, then
-suddenly deserts it, and she clasps her hands convulsively. She is but
-woman, after all. Yet she controls her agitation sufficiently to ask
-in an unsteady voice,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Is it necessary to speak further of this, Joshua?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is more than necessary,&quot; he replies; &quot;it is imperative. My duty
-and my honor demand it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She bows her head; he pauses a while, and when he speaks again, it is
-in a softer tone.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie, do you know that Dan loved you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Loved me!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, with all the strength of his constant heart.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I did not know it. I thought he liked me, but I had no idea it was as
-you say.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He told me in confidence some time before I left. My heart bleeds as
-I recall that conversation. No girl could hope to be more fondly, more
-faithfully loved. When the 'Merry Andrew' left Gravesend, I said to
-myself, 'When I return, Minnie will be Dan's wife,' for I could not
-but believe that you would have learned to appreciate the worth of
-such a love as his. But it was not to be.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, it was not to be,&quot; says Minnie sadly. &quot;If I had known, it could
-not have been; if I had remained at home, it could not have been. You,
-who knew Dan so well, do you not know something of me also? I
-understand the motive that impels you to speak to me of these things,
-and I honor you the more for it. It is another proof of your goodness
-and generosity&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie, Minnie!&quot; he cries, &quot;do not speak to me like that!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I must; I cannot help myself. Have you so poor an opinion of me--do
-you know so little of me--as to think I would marry a man I did not
-love? Rather than that, I would choose for him I loved the bitterest
-lot that life can offer--misery, shame, humiliation--and be content.
-Dan is all that you say; but I did not love him, did not deceive him.
-If he told you so, he told you what is false.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He did not tell me so, but said that from your manner to him
-sometimes, he hoped to win your love.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Must I shame myself to justify myself?&quot; she cries recklessly. &quot;I
-was happy in his company because he was your friend, and because he
-loved you. I was happy in his company because he spoke of you, and
-because--Joshua, have pity on me and forgive me! O my heart, my
-heart!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He catches her fainting form, for she is falling. Weeping, she turns
-her face from him and hides it in her hair. Soft breezes play among
-the branches of the trees, stirring them into worshipping motion, and
-the more-pork, with its sad-colored plumage, flits by on noiseless
-wings, uttering his melancholy note. Joshua waits until Minnie is more
-composed; presently her sobs grow fainter and she leaves the shelter
-of his arm, and stands a little apart from him, with her face still
-averted.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I do pity you,&quot; he then says, &quot;and forgive you. What I have said and
-what I have done springs from no feeling of unkindness to you, Minnie.
-God knows, in such a strait as ours, such a feeling would be worse
-than cruel. But there are certain things of which I am afraid you are
-ignorant, that I must speak of and that you must hear. Do you know
-that, before I left home, I was suspected of playing with your
-feelings--of making love to you clandestinely, and so betraying the
-friend whom I would have laid down my life to serve?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, no Joshua, do not tell me that!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is the truth; but I did not know it until after I had bidden
-good-by to mother and father and Dan, in Stepney. Where were you on
-that day?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I--I was not at home,&quot; she falters.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You had left, then. I went to your father's room to wish you and him
-good-by. He refused to see me. I asked to see you, and Susan told me
-you were asleep. I was deeply grieved; and I can understand now what
-caused Susan to beg me imploringly to be true to Ellen. What a
-cowardly villain they must believe me to be! Your father suspected me;
-Susan suspected me. If I had died that Christmas night at mother's
-door, it would have been happier for me! Minnie I thanked you once for
-saving my life; but I cannot thank you now, for you have made me the
-unhappiest of men.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She does not answer him, but stands before him trembling and
-suffering, as before a judge, enduring her punishment and admitting
-the justice of it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is part of my unhappiness,&quot; he continues, &quot;that I have to speak
-thus to you; it is part of my unhappiness that I have to show you the
-consequences of your rash conduct. Listen: To-day I saw the Lascar; he
-came behind me stealthily, to kill me, I believe; but I turned and saw
-him in time. I could have shot him dead where he stood; indeed, some
-savage prompting urged me to do so, but I held my hand and was spared
-the crime. This man hates me, Minnie. In an encounter I had with him
-before I first went to sea, I struck him and hurt him. He has had a
-bitter revenge upon me. He saw you on board the 'Merry Andrew' before
-the pilot left the ship, and recognized you, despite your disguise.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie holds her breath. She remembers how the Lascar whispered her
-name in her ear the first day she went aboard.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He did a devilish thing then. He wrote a letter home, saying that I
-had run away with you, and that we were together on board the 'Merry
-Andrew.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She falls on her knees before him, and raises her bands
-supplicatingly, and begs him again to forgive her, and to believe that
-she knew nothing of this, and that if she had known--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If you had known, Minnie,&quot; he says, gently raising her, &quot;you would
-not have done what you have. But you did not stop to consider, poor
-child! You see the consequences of that letter, do you not? Suspecting
-me, your father told me the story of his life, to warn me not to
-betray you. Suspecting me, Susan implored me to be true to Ellen. Dan
-confided to me his love for you, and I listened to and sympathized
-with him. Well, what must he and all of them think, when they have
-learned that you and I are together on board the 'Merry Andrew'? And I
-have something to tell you more painful than all the rest.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He puts Ellen's portrait into her hand. &quot;Do you know who this is?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Her eyes are blurred by tears, and she sees Ellen's sweet face through
-the sorrowful mist.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is Ellen's,&quot; she says.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is my wife!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As Joshua utters these words, earth and heaven fade in Minnie's sight;
-nothing is visible, nothing is palpable to her senses, but the
-knowledge that flashes upon her, that her love, instead of being her
-glory, is now her shame. &quot;There is no earthly sacrifice that love will
-not sanctify,&quot; her father had said. Could love sanctify such a
-sacrifice as she had made--a sacrifice that had brought disgrace and
-dishonor upon the man she loved? For the first time some slight
-consciousness of her error breaks upon her, and she looks upon herself
-as a shameful thing. As Joshua, witnessing her agony, moves a step
-nearer to her, she cries, &quot;No, no, do not touch me!&quot; and with a wild
-shudder sinks upon the ground. He, animated by sincerest compassion,
-throws himself by her side, lays his hand upon her head, and raises
-her face to his. She bows her head upon his shoulder, and sobs her
-grief out there. By every means in his power--by gentle speech, by
-tender act--he strives to soothe her, and succeeds. And then, true to
-his purpose, he finishes his story--tells her what occurred between
-him and the Old Sailor at Gravesend; how surprised he was to find
-that the good old man, and even his own mother, had seen Minnie's
-fancy for him, and had devised the cure for it; and how, prompted by
-duty and by his love for Ellen (he dwelt much on that), he had married
-her quietly at Gravesend, and had spent there the three happiest days
-of his life. And when his story is finished, and she has learned all,
-they sit hand in hand, very quiet and sore-smitten, until Minnie, in a
-singularly-subdued voice, asks what she shall do: as if, having
-committed this fault, and brought such terrible suspicion upon him, he
-has only to tell her how to atone for it, and she will straightway do
-it. Sadly he replies, &quot;What can you do, Minnie? Nothing--nothing but
-wait. There is, to my mind, not the barest chance of escape. We shall
-make our graves in this wild forest; but we must live so--you and I,
-my dear--that upon my deathbed I shall be able to think that I have
-been true to my wife, true to my friend. Life is not the end of all
-things.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Meekly she assents. He calls her &quot;Sister,&quot; and kisses her; and then
-they rejoin their companions, who are seated by the gunyahs, cooking
-turtles' eggs found by Rough-and-Ready, the discoverer.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXXV.</h4>
-
-<h5>SURPRISED BY SAVAGES.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The wisdom of Rough-and-Ready's plan of action was soon
-proved. One
-night, thunder awoke them from sleep. The thunder that breaks over the
-housetops, and the lightning that flashes in at the window-panes of a
-populous city, are very different from what are heard and seen in
-mountain ranges and great wastes of forests. Nature seems to be toned
-down in the city; in the forests and mountains she is grandly
-beautiful in repose, terrifically beautiful in travail. The
-thunder-peals were so loud and awful, that the women and child lay
-clasping each other in speechless fear. Like savage Titans the sound
-swept down upon them, and rushed through the forests and over the
-mountains and into them in search of echoes. The lightning darted upon
-the trees, and ran along the branches, and leaped through the woods
-into the bowels of the earth. Every thing that lived in stream and
-woodland, in rocky range and dark lagoon, sought shelter from the
-storm, of which Sound was but the herald. Presently it came, the swift
-rush of waters, like a second deluge, filling the creeks and rivers,
-and flooding all the land. Great torrents rushed down the mountainside
-into the low land, sweeping all before them. The storm raged the whole
-night through, abating slightly when morning dawned. It was well for
-the castaways that they had a little food stored by, for they could
-not go out in search of any. The second night the women begged the men
-to stay with them; so they all occupied the women's gunyah, lying side
-by side in the dark, and whispering to each other little words of
-comfort. All but Rachel Homebush, who was struck dumb by fear. The
-second night's storm was more terrific than the first, and about
-midnight so tremendous a peal of thunder broke over them, that they
-started up in dread.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who screamed?&quot; asked Rough-and Ready. But his voice was not heard;
-and swift upon the heels of the thunder another vivid lightning-flash,
-instantly followed by a terrific burst of thunder, darted through the
-gunyah, and struck them blind for many moments. Then, during a slight
-lull, Rough-and-Ready asked again,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Who screamed?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not I,&quot; said Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nor I,&quot; said the sailmaker.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The women did not speak. Joshua's heart beat with a new fear as he
-whispered,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie! Minnie! speak to me. You are not hurt?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And tears of thankfulness came into his eyes as Minnie answered in a
-trembling voice,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No Joshua; I am only frightened. Let me hold your hand.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where's the child?&quot; he asked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Rachel has her. Rachel! Rachel!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">No voice replied. Thoroughly alarmed, they called to her again and
-again, and to the child, but could not rouse them. They were in the
-deepest darkness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Presently Rough-and-Ready said, &quot;Hush! we must wait for the light.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They waited for the light, and by the first faint glimmer they saw
-Rachel and the child lying down peacefully, the woman with the child
-folded in her arms. Light had come to them before the others!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready, who was the first to discover it, turned to his
-companions, with the tears streaming down his face and beard.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Comfort <i>her</i>,&quot; he said to Joshua, pointing to Minnie.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua put his arm round Minnie and turned her face from where the
-woman and child lay.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Poor Rachel! Poor Little Emma!&quot; he said. &quot;Be brave, Minnie, my dear.
-Do not give way, for my sake.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He knew what words to utter to give her strength to bear the shock,
-and he made use of his power with a wise compassion.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Her poor white lips trembled as she said to him,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Pray for one thing for me, Joshua. Pray that I may not die before I
-have made atonement.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hush, hush, my dear!&quot; he replied; &quot;there is none to make. It is I who
-rather should have to make it, for my hardness to you. Be comforted,
-my dear.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The words came from his heart. He would have been unfeeling indeed if
-he had not learned to appreciate the beautiful unselfishness of
-Minnie's love; her meekness, her faithfulness, her devotion, her
-unmurmuring submission, could not fail to have a powerful effect upon
-such a nature as his.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The men went into their gunyah, and before night came again had made a
-rough coffin of bark. The next morning they dug a grave and stood
-round it bareheaded while the rain was falling. They kissed the
-child's face and poor Rachel's also before the cover was put on the
-rude coffin. Amid deep sobs--the men were not ashamed of their
-tears--Joshua read prayers; some vine-creepers were thrown into the
-grave; the earth was piled up into a mound: and they went back sadly
-to their tent. The loss of some one very near and dear to them could
-not have been more severely felt. From that time forth it became a
-practice for Joshua to read a chapter out of the Bible every morning
-and evening.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The rainy season lasted for three weeks, and during this time they
-lived very miserably. Minnie thrived, however--perhaps because Joshua
-was tender to her. The hot weather came and they were able to go in
-search of food. But Minnie was never left alone. Joshua and she were
-waiting one evening for the return of Rough-and-Ready and the
-sailmaker, but Rough-and-Ready came back without his companion. He
-looked round in some anxiety.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hasn't the sailmaker returned?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; said Joshua; &quot;you went out together.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know; but I missed him a couple of hours ago, and although I have
-searched for him and coo-&#275;&#275;d for him everywhere, I haven't been
-able to find him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The sailmaker did not make his appearance. To the surprise of his
-companions, Rough-and-Ready, after dark, fired half a dozen shots from
-his pistol into the air.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You look surprised,&quot; he said; &quot;well, now&quot; (to Minnie), &quot;can you bear
-a shock? Will you promise to be brave if I tell you something?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She nodded.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is only something that I have been expecting. I think that the
-sailmaker is with the natives.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why do you think so?&quot; asked Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;For good reasons. I saw some tracks of them when I was hunting for
-Tom. Perhaps they have captured him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He had his pistols.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Frightened to use them, perhaps; or perhaps there were a lot of the
-Blacks, and he thought it would be foolish and useless. Besides he is
-new to them. He's all right, though; they won't hurt him for he's a
-plucky fellow. Now, mind. When you first see the natives, and indeed
-always after that, show no fear of them. What I am going to say is to
-my mind a most foolish thing; but there's the faintest chance in the
-world that, making friends with them, you might make your way down
-south, from one tribe to another, in a few months, and come upon some
-cattle station. But, lord! there's one chance for you, and a hundred
-against you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why do you say 'you'?&quot; asked Minnie. &quot;'We,' rather.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, my dear,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready with a blush. &quot;I have two reasons
-for saying you and not we. The first reason is not a reason--it is a
-presentiment. I shall die in the bush. The second reason is a plainer
-one. It wouldn't be pleasant for me to get into civilized company in
-New South Wales.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Why?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready looked at her with admiration, and said, very
-inappropriately, as she thought,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you know that you have made me a better man?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A better man!&quot; she exclaimed. &quot;Why, you are a good man, and a brave
-man, too.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You think so. So let it be,&quot; he said, half seriously, half gayly.
-&quot;I'm not going to spoil your delusion just yet.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They saw no signs of the savages that night. They did not retire until
-late, and Rough-and-Ready went many times short distances in different
-directions to look for the natives, but they did not appear. Joshua
-took out his accordion and played. Rough-and-Ready listened
-thoughtfully, and when Joshua had finished an air, he said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I told you, when we first came ashore here, that there is no surer
-way to frighten the blacks than through their superstitious fears.
-Your playing to-night, connected with the near presence of the
-savages, brings that remark back to me; and I'll tell you why. That
-music of yours may possibly be a great power with them. They have
-never heard any thing like it. If you don't lose your self-possession
-when you get among them--and you must take care not to, for Minnie's
-sake; her life may depend upon your courage--you may obtain an
-influence over them by means of your accordion. Sound for which they
-cannot account has a wonderful effect upon them. Here you have it.
-Don't forget what I say. Come, now, I can hear no sign of the black
-devils. You take some rest. I'll wake you in a couple of hours.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So they watched in turns during the night.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is the best thing to do,&quot; asked Joshua the following evening,
-&quot;when the savages come?--to make friends with them, or try to frighten
-them?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There are too few of us to fight,&quot; answered Rough-and-Ready. &quot;We
-might frighten them for a time, but they would be sure to come back in
-larger numbers. Then we haven't too much powder and shot left. No; the
-best and wisest course will be to be friendly with them, if possible.
-I <i>have</i> heard of white men living with them for many years. I saw an
-Englishman myself once who had been with them for five years. He was
-glad enough to get away from them; but they treated him kindly, he
-said. One man, whom I never saw, lived with them for thirty years. His
-name is Buckley, and he is living now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you know any thing of his story?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I'll tell you what little I know. He was a bricklayer in
-Cheshire--came from Macclesfield, I've heard. A great big hulking
-lazy fellow he was--brick-making was too hard work for him, so he
-enlisted as a grenadier. A fine grenadier he must have looked--he was
-six feet six inches in his stockings. But grenadiering didn't satisfy
-his wants. He was a natural vagabond like myself, and he got into
-trouble, and was sentenced to transportation. So he and three or four
-hundred other natural and unnatural vagabonds, being deemed fine
-material for the purpose, were sent out to form a colony. Buckley and
-his mates were put ashore at Port Phillip; but the governor, whose
-name was Collins, liked the place as little as the convicts, and he
-moved them off to Van Dieman's Land. Then they began to talk of
-escaping. They didn't know any thing of the interior of the country;
-but they thought, perhaps, that any thing was better than the devil's
-life they led as convicts. Buckley got away with two mates, of whom
-nothing more was ever heard. About twelve months after he escaped, he
-fell in with the natives, and lived with them for more than thirty
-years. During the whole of that time he never saw a white man. At
-length he heard from the tribe he was living with, that some men with
-skins the same color as his had been seen within a few miles of the
-native camp. They belonged to a band of explorers headed by a man
-named Batman. Buckley went in search of them, and presented himself to
-them. You can imagine what a sensation he created; a white giant, who
-had forgotten how to speak English, with native weapons hung round his
-body, and a kangaroo-skin rug his only clothing. He soon picked up a
-bit of English, and was taken to a white settlement, where he was made
-a pet and a wonder of. He might have done good service for the white
-people with the natives, for they say he has great influence with
-them. But my opinion of him is, that he is a lazy, skulking thief, and
-that living with the savages, where he hadn't to work for his food,
-just suited him. I expect that some part of his influence over them
-was produced by his tremendous height and big limbs. However, he is
-among the whites again, with a free pardon granted him, I've heard,
-and earning his living as he has earned it all his life--by doing
-nothing.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">During the recital of this story, which Rough-and-Ready declared was
-veracious, every word of it, he was busy baking a fresh-water turtle,
-which he had caught that day while he was fishing in a lagoon. The
-turtle was baked in its shell, and they made a delicious supper off
-it. They had arranged to fish for eels that night, and Rough-and-Ready
-said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come along; it's of no use being frightened by thinking of the
-natives; we must get accustomed to them. We shall soon see them, and
-Tom with them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They took all their fire-arms. Minnie had two pistols in her belt, and
-Joshua and Rough-and-Ready, besides pistols, had guns slung across
-their shoulders. Each of them wore a cap made of the beautiful fur of
-the sugar-squirrel. They walked through the quiet wood, looking
-sharply about them as they went along, but neither heard nor saw any
-signs of the natives. When they came to the lagoon, Rough-and-Ready
-told them he was going to show them a fine way of catching eels
-without trouble. He had his fire-sticks with him, and in half an hour
-he had a great fire blazing by the side of the lagoon. Attracted by
-the light, the eels came swarming towards them; and in a very short
-time they caught as many as they desired. Loaded with their spoil,
-they made their way back to their gunyahs; and as they got near them,
-they saw a dark figure glide swiftly away from the spot into the bush.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A native,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready. &quot;We must look out to-night.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Or Scadbolt, or the Lascar, do you think?&quot; suggested Joshua,
-supporting Minnie, who was clinging to him in alarm.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No; a white man couldn't move away with such a cat-like motion. I
-fancy I saw his dark skin.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Thereupon Rough-and-Ready, for the purpose of familiarizing Minnie
-with the idea of living with the savages, and so lessening her fears,
-commenced talking of them, and continued talking for a couple of
-hours. By which time Minnie's fears really <i>were</i> lessened.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What a number of stars have fallen the last few nights remarked
-Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, you have noticed that!&quot; said Rough-and-Ready. &quot;And if you
-observe, they have fallen immediately over this spot, in the direction
-of the sea. Well, those shooting-stars may have brought the natives
-here; for although some tribes believe that danger lies where stars
-fall, or that they indicate the direction of hostile tribes, others
-have a kind of belief that a great and good spirit may be seen where
-they fall. They believe that there is a new sun every day and a new
-moon every night, One tribe throws up the sun at daybreak, and another
-tribe catches it at sunset.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Here they were interrupted by cries of fear, and by the running
-towards them of some person who fell at their feet trembling and
-grovelling. It was the Lascar, who was evidently in a state of
-horrible fright. He looked more like a wild beast than a man. What few
-clothes he had on were torn and tattered, his nails were long, and his
-disordered hair and grovelling fears deprived his features of any
-likeness to humanity.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The savages, the savages,&quot; he cried.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He had chosen what he considered the lesser of two evils; his white
-foes were preferable to black cannibals. Rough-and-Ready looked down
-upon him contemptuously and touched him with his foot.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The cowardly ruffian!&quot; he said. &quot;I'd sooner trust the Blacks than
-such as he. Where's his rascally mate, I wonder--Get up!&quot; he cried,
-and administered so smart a kick to the prostrate wretch that he
-jumped up on the instant, imploring mercy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Be silent, you chattering imp of darkness!&quot; roared Rough-and-Ready;
-&quot;be silent, and answer me. You've seen the Blacks, I suppose?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Lascar muttered an affirmative.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, what are you frightened at? Why don't you go and make friends
-with them? They haven't much the advantage of you in color, and you
-are more of a wild beast than they are. Frightened of being eaten, eh?
-Faugh! they'd spear you and throw you away; you're not good enough
-even for them.&quot; The Lascar trembled the more at this; he was a true
-coward. &quot;What d'ye think of mutineering now, eh? Answer me, you
-copper-colored devil, or I'll make an end of you--where's your mate,
-Scadbolt?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know; I haven't seen him for days.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, two of a trade never agree. I thought you'd be cutting each
-other's throats. Captain Marvel, here's one of your crew who tried to
-raise a mutiny. As if that was not enough, he has murdered his mate.&quot;
-(It is a fact that Scadbolt was never heard of again, nor was any
-thing ever known of his fate.) &quot;Now then, you, as captain of the
-'Merry Andrew,' pronounce judgment--death, nothing less--and I'll take
-him away and execute it, as truly as I'm a living man!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">There was something so determined in Rough-and-Ready's speech, and
-something so threatening in his action, that the Lascar leaped away in
-mortal fear. Whereat Rough-and-Ready laughed loud and long, and fired
-a shot in the air to frighten the Lascar the more.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In the morning, while they were at breakfast, two savages suddenly
-made their appearance, about twenty yards from where they were
-sitting. They appeared so suddenly, that they seemed to have started
-out of the ground.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, Minnie,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready quietly, &quot;don't scream out, and
-don't show any alarm. By the look of those fellows they are friendly,
-and do not mean to harm us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie conquered her fears bravely, although her heart was beating
-fast, and by the direction of Rough-and-Ready they went on with their
-breakfast, to all appearance quite unconcerned, and as if the presence
-of the savages was the most natural thing in the world. The two men
-who stood gazing at them were naked, with the exception of a girdle of
-emeu-feathers round their waists; their color was pale black; they
-were tall, with thin limbs and fine chests, and their hair was thick
-and curly. They had spears in their hands, about seven feet long, made
-from the stem of the tea-tree.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Seeing that they stood quite quiet, Rough-and-Ready held up part of an
-eel towards them, and smiled, and nodded his head gently. Whereupon
-the two savages looked at each other, said a few words, and
-disappeared. Both Joshua and Minnie drew a long breath of relief, for
-which Rough-and-Ready was inclined to be cross with them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They will be back presently,&quot; he said, &quot;in company.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They had not long to wait. In less than half an hour the two who had
-first presented themselves returned with nearly a score of others. To
-the joy of the castaways, they saw Tom the sailmaker in the rear, and
-they nodded and smiled at him. Seeing that the savages, who had been
-jabbering among themselves, made signs to the sailmaker; and after the
-display of much pantomime, he came towards his mates. They shook hands
-with him, and Rough-and-Ready asked him how he was.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Jolly,&quot; he replied. He told them in crisp sentences, all of them in
-answer to Rough-and-Ready's questions, that the natives seemed
-disposed to be friendly, and that they were not half so bad as they
-looked.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Rough-and-Ready, accompanied by Tom, then walked half a dozen yards in
-the direction of the savages, and held out his hands to them. Tom
-looked at the savages, touched Rough-and-Ready on the breast, and then
-himself, with sufficiently expressive pantomime, to denote, &quot;We two
-are one.&quot; Minnie and Joshua stood in the background, side by side,
-with linked arms. The savages, coming a little nearer, pointed to
-them, and jabbered unintelligibly, as much as to say, &quot;What do you do
-here? Who are you?&quot; Joshua, observing the success of Rough-and-Ready's
-pantomime, touched Minnie on the breast, and then himself, conveying
-the same meaning, &quot;We two are one.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Here it must be told that Minnie had regained her naturally fair
-complexion, and that her hair, also fair, had grown to a great length.
-Tall and well-formed, with bare arms beautifully shaped, with pure
-complexion; with dreamy eyes, with long hair hanging loosely down, and
-with the charm and grace of youth upon her, she stood before them in
-her strange dress of civilized cotton and woodland fur; and her
-singularly-beautiful appearance had a powerful effect on the savages.
-They approached Rough-and-Ready, and felt his clothes, and made
-friends with him in their primitive fashion; but they kept some
-distance from Joshua and Minnie, regarding, her with looks of
-reverence and astonishment. Presently, after much grimacing and
-flashing of hands and fingers, Rough-and-Ready came towards Minnie,
-and, to her surprise, bowed low before her, and stood in an attitude
-of respectful worship. The savages, who were watching him attentively,
-saw only his back; but if they had seen the merry twinkle in his eyes,
-they would have been as puzzled as Minnie was.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I've heard say that every woman is an actress,&quot; he said, smiling.
-&quot;Prove yourself one now, for all our sakes, by not moving, and by
-listening to me attentively. Your conduct may decide our fate. I have
-told you what significance the natives attach to shooting-stars, and
-how they either avoid the direction in which they fall or are impelled
-there by some powerful superstition. Fortune has favored us. I don't
-understand a single word these savages utter; but I understand from
-their actions that they are so amazed at your appearance as to
-entertain a belief that you are not quite mortal--that, in fact, you
-are a superior spirit. If they can be kept in this belief (supposing
-they entertain it), it will be of immense service to us. If you are
-brave enough not to show fear, they will almost be certain not to
-attempt to harm us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">No better speech could have been spoken to Minnie to inspire her with
-confidence and courage. But she turned to Joshua first, and asked,
-&quot;Shall I do this?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; he answered; &quot;I think it will be well, if you can nerve
-yourself to it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Smiling at the &quot;if&quot; she said softly, &quot;For your sake, Joshua,&quot; and
-then, with queenly motion, walked towards the savages, conquering her
-disgust at their appearance. They awaited her approach; and when she
-was within a few steps of them, an old graybeard came forward, and
-held out his hands, saying some words expressive of respectful
-welcome. Minnie understood as much by his expressive action. She
-touched his hands, and waved hers, bidding them welcome, and beckoning
-to Joshua, touched him on the breast, and placed her hand upon his
-shoulder. Then, smiling placidly upon the dusky group, she walked away
-with Joshua, and sat down in the shade of the gunyah. Whatever meaning
-her pantomime had conveyed, it evidently excited great interest among
-the savages. They conversed earnestly and excitedly, and pointed to
-the sky and to the earth, describing, by their motions the action of a
-star falling gently to the ground.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Bravely done,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready to Minnie. &quot;Whatever notion they
-have in their heads, it is one that will do us no harm. See, they are
-moving off, taking the sailmaker with them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And, indeed, the natives went away in a body, leaving behind them four
-of their party, however, who squatted upon the ground, with their eyes
-fixed upon the castaways.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They are left to watch us,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready; &quot;but I think we may
-make ourselves easy about their being disposed to be friendly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He and Joshua went about their pursuits as usual; but to keep up the
-fiction concerning Minnie with the natives who were watching them,
-they would not allow her to work, and treated her with such marks of
-deference as could not fail to impress the savages. During the day,
-Rough-and-Ready offered food to the savages, who accepted it. To show
-their gratitude, two of them went away into the forest, and returned
-with a quantity of honey in a reed basket, which they placed at
-Minnie's feet, and which she partook of to their evident satisfaction.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There isn't the slightest mistake,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready merrily,
-&quot;that the devil isn't half so black as he is painted.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They were left apparently undisturbed for two days, when the natives
-returned, with different descriptions of food--sweet roots many of
-them, pleasant and good to eat. &quot;They have some plan in their heads,&quot;
-said Rough-and-Ready. He was right. Early the next morning the natives
-gave them to understand that they were going farther inland, and that
-the white people were to accompany them. &quot;Now we shall see something,&quot;
-observed Rough-and-Ready as they plunged into the forest. They walked
-for three days before they came to the native camp. They made short
-stages to accommodate Minnie. During this time, Minnie kept close to
-Joshua, as if to protect him; but Rough-and-Ready mixed freely with
-the natives, and made some snares for game, which he gave to them, and
-with which they were much pleased. When they were within a few miles
-of the camp a number of the tribe, chiefly women and children, came
-out to meet them. Soon they arrived at the camp, and were surprised at
-its picturesqueness. It consisted of about a dozen roomy huts, roofed
-and thatched with bark and reeds. At a short distance from the huts
-was a large pool, the vegetation around which was singularly
-beautiful. Among the strange trees which attracted the notice of the
-castaways, the umbrella-tree, with its dark loaves and crimson
-flowers, seemed to them the most remarkable. There were also a large
-number of great fig-trees, and magnificent palms with feathery leaves.
-The air was sweet with the perfume of lily and jasmine and the
-golden-flowered thorn. There was one hut which appeared but newly
-built; it was prettier than the others, and its sides were decorated
-with wild flowers and flowering vines. Towards this the natives led
-Minnie, upon whom the women and children looked in awe and wonder.
-She, clasping Joshua's hand, entered this hut, and sank upon the bed
-of dry leaves, wondering what was next to come. She begged Joshua to
-stop with her, for she was frightened of being left alone. So, after
-partaking of the food which the natives brought to them, he lay down
-near the mouth of the hut, and she at the farther end on her bed of
-leaves. Joshua could see the glories of the sunset from where he lay;
-and he saw the fire die out of the sky, and saw the stars come out.
-But he was tired with his day's walk, and sleep overpowered him,
-although he tried to keep awake. Early in the morning they rose, and
-walked towards the banks of the pool,--</p>
-<br>
-<div style="margin-left:5%; font-size:80%">
-<p style="text-indent:-10px">&quot;To where the weed of green and red<br>
-Its floating carpet gayly spread,<br>
-Whereon the emerald frog reclined,<br>
-Fanned by the fragrance of the wind;<br>
-And all was darkened by the shade<br>
-The water-weeping branches made--<br>
-Save where a paler, tenderer green<br>
-Made bright the beauty of the scene.<br>
-The birds flashed down, to drink or lave,<br>
-With varied note and joyous stave,<br>
-And plunging sidelong from the reeds,<br>
-That wavered mid the water-weeds.<br>
-Plashed in the stream so cool and calm,<br>
-O'erhung by many a fern-tree palm;<br>
-And bell-bird peels, whose silvery chimes<br>
-Found in the rippled water rhymes,<br>
-Throughout the perfumed thicket rang,<br>
-Whence the tall-headed bulrush sprang.&quot;</p>
-</div>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h4>
-
-<h5>THE POWER OF MUSIC.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The natives were busy preparing for a grand Correboree, which,
-being
-interpreted, means a grand gathering and celebration in honor of some
-imposing event. Scouts were sent out in every direction, and every
-hour brought fresh comers, who evinced the greatest possible curiosity
-in the white people. At one time nearly sixty members of a different
-tribe arrived in a body, and a fierce jabbering took place between the
-old men of the tribes. Rough-and-Ready, who had by this time picked up
-a few native words, came to Minnie and Joshua with a look of concern
-on his face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They are quarrelling about us,&quot; he said. &quot;As far as I can understand,
-this new tribe lay claim to us for having been found in a country
-which they say is theirs. I think I know how they will settle it, if
-they settle it at all peaceably.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How?&quot; asked Joshua anxiously.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They will separate us--two for each of the two strongest tribes.&quot;
-Minnie caught Joshua's hand convulsively. &quot;I know what you mean, my
-dear,&quot; said Rough-and-Ready, a little sadly; &quot;you and Joshua must not
-be parted. And indeed, it would not be right; you belong to one
-another. Well, the sailmaker and I will go our way and you will go
-yours. Only you must be cunning and keep together. Joshua, tonight,
-before the natives go to sleep, play a few soft airs upon your
-accordion. You and Minnie must be in your hut together while you play.
-And don't let them see the accordion. The music will fill them with
-wonder, and it will be a strong reason with them why you should not be
-parted. But indeed, my dear, if you continue to act your part well
-there will be no fear of that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are a good man,&quot; said Minnie gratefully, holding out her hand to
-Rough-and-Ready.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He took it and pressed it to his lips, and held it in his with
-infinite tenderness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, my dear,&quot; he said, &quot;I am not a good man. You have seen me at my
-best. I am a convict, and when I came on board the 'Merry Andrew,' I
-was trying to escape from the colony. There's many a black mark
-against me which I doubt will never be wiped out in this world. I was
-a little sinned against at first, it is true, but I had my revenge
-afterwards; I couldn't be meek and humble under undeserved punishment.
-There! that's all I shall tell you about myself. Your imagination must
-fill in the outlines. And, mind you! you can't make me out worse than
-I am. I am glad I have made this confession, lame and bald as it is;
-it has relieved my mind.&quot; He turned his back to them, with a motion
-which said, &quot;You see what a vagabond I am; I am not fit company for
-such as you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Minnie laid one hand upon his shoulder, and with the other turned
-his face towards hers.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are a good man,&quot; she repeated earnestly, looking into his eyes,
-which were filled with tears, &quot;and I honor and respect you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And I, too,&quot; said Joshua, grasping his hand heartily. &quot;If it should
-be our good fortune to meet under happier circumstances than these, I
-will show my gratitude to you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There, there, there!&quot; exclaimed Rough-and-Ready, half roughly, half
-tenderly; &quot;enough said about the past. We sha'n't be together much
-longer, as I've told you, and as you'll soon find. We must take things
-as they come, and make the best of them. Do you know the natives have
-a curious fancy about you?&quot; he said to Minnie. &quot;There was once in
-their tribe a young woman of rare beauty and virtues, who was idolized
-by all I don't know how long ago this was, and it is only by piecing
-stray words and actions together that I have been able to understand
-it. Well, this young woman, by some means or other, was transformed
-into a star. They believe you to be her, having taken mortal form
-again to visit them. 'Tis a pretty fancy, isn't it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But I am white, and&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She was black,&quot; interrupted Rough-and-Ready gayly. &quot;That is easily
-accounted for; they believe that when they die they jump up white. If
-you were of their color, they would not have the fancy about you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">By the evening there were not less than a hundred and fifty savages
-collected together. Although the weather was warm, they were lying
-down before their campfires, with the exception of one group of about
-twenty old men and doctors of the principal tribes, who were earnestly
-engaged in discussing matters relating to the white people. An old
-chief of the tribe who had first discovered the castaways was on his
-feet, declaiming violently, with extravagant action, in which,
-nevertheless, there was much dignity. Opara was his name. His hair and
-beard were white, and his face and body were scored with ugly seams
-gained in battle, or in the exercise of the strange rites and
-ceremonies of his tribe. On his neck and breast, and from his
-shoulders to his hips, were still to be seen, old as he was, the
-gashes made in his youth to entitle him to the dignity of manhood. A
-great chief was Opara--wise in council, fearless in battle and had
-been the most skilful of all his tribe with boomerang and spear, and
-middla, and in throwing the wirra.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The strangers are ours,&quot; he said; &quot;the sacred crow, Karakorok,
-witnesseth that they are ours by right. The heavens were filled with
-light, and great voices thundered. We listened in awe. Fire rent the
-mountains, and made new caverns sacred. Light dived into raging
-waterfalls, cutting the earth. We waited full a moon. The storm
-ceased; the spirits spoke no more. We waited another moon. The stars
-fell near the sea--into it. We went there, wanting to know. We brought
-the strangers back. They are ours.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Up rose Wealberrin, chief of the other tribe. No less famous he than
-Opara. White-bearded, too, and tattooed from top to toe, and no less
-cunning with war and hunting weapons. Around his waist was a belt made
-of the hair of the enemies he had slain in battle.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Not so,&quot; he said. &quot;The <i>land</i> is ours. There, in Pandarri Kurto
-(heaven's cavern), lie our mintapas--our doctors. There are our
-hunting-grounds--our fishing-lands. There we make men of our sons.
-Shall I take Opara's food, and call it mine by right? He would reply
-as becomes a warrior. If I ask, he would give. But I ask not now. The
-land is ours. What is found on the land is ours.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Once lived Mirgabeen,&quot; said Opara. &quot;Bright-eyed, fleet-footed,
-hollow-backed. Her tongue spoke the music of the birds. Her dark hair
-hung down to her arched feet. She could shroud her glory in it--as
-night the day. She was beloved by all. Too bright for earth, she lives
-in the heavens now, a star. She looks down on me. She hears me speak.
-So dwelt with us a maid, whose supple limbs cleaved the water, who
-sang the music of the woods. The trees bent to her as she walked. The
-branches bowed before her, and whispered to her, and she replied. She
-left us for the grand vault where moons are made. What was ours is
-ours. She has come back to us. She is ours.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So be it,&quot; said Wealberrin. &quot;The others then are ours. Opara has
-spoken.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She has with her a mate,&quot; said Opara, &quot;whom she has touched upon the
-breast. Let Wealberrin take two--we two. Then we shall have peace.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Wealberrin would have replied, but as he rose to his feet a wondering
-expression stole into his face, and into the faces of all assembled
-there. For from Minnie's gunyah issued sounds so soft and sweet that
-the night-birds hushed their voices to listen. The breeze was so light
-that the melodious notes hung upon the air, and lingered long before
-they died away. The savages clutched each other, and stood transfixed
-with fear and wonder. What voices were these that were speaking? In
-their dreams they had never heard any thing so sweet. Opara had said
-it. Minnie had come from the vault where the moons are made, and was
-speaking to the spirits of another world. Motionless, with bended
-heads or with forms inclined towards the sound, they stood like
-figures of stone, in reverential attitude. And did not move a limb
-when the music ceased; for a shadow fell upon the moonlit space, and
-Minnie came to the opening of the gunyah and looked in dumb amazement
-at the strange scene before her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And now the day has come upon which the grand ceremony of the
-Corroboree is to be celebrated. The rival tribes have settled their
-dispute. Rough-and-Ready, who is the Chorus of the party, tells his
-friends that Joshua and Minnie are to remain with Opara's tribe, and
-that he and the sailmaker are to be attached to Wealberrin's. Joshua
-hints at resistance, but Rough-and-Ready declares it would be madness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If there was no woman in the case,&quot; he says, &quot;I might counsel
-differently; but for Minnie's sake we must have no fighting. We might
-kill a score or two of the natives, but you must bear in mind there
-are half a thousand of them here now. Then their spears are poisoned.
-Suppose one should strike Minnie. No, no; submission is our best
-course.&quot; So, with much grief, they are compelled to make up their
-minds to submit.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">All day long, there is great feasting. An emeu has been hunted down,
-and the fat carefully distributed among the natives; honey and sweet
-roots have been brought in in abundance, and the bushes have been
-stripped of their fruit. Rude seats of vines, decorated with flowers,
-have been placed for Minnie and Joshua in front of their gunyah, and
-in front of the seats a kind of arched screen of leaves and branches
-has been erected, through the network of which they can see and be
-seen. When night comes, fires are lighted, the flickering flames of
-which give birth to monstrous shadows that flit about the trees, and
-fill the woods with grotesque shapes. Minnie and Joshua watch with a
-kind of wonder the shadows created by the fire nearest to them. Now
-the light goes down, and the black shapes dart through the woods, or
-run swiftly along the branches, ravenously, and with cruel intent, as
-it appears; anon, the flame leaps up, and the shadows fly and shift
-restlessly about, with lightning speed, as if suddenly surprised by an
-enemy. Their attention, however, is soon diverted from these inanimate
-creations. The natives are assembling. Men, women, and children troop
-in from all quarters, and seat themselves round and about the fires in
-somewhat orderly fashion. There cannot be less than five or six
-hundred of them. All being seated, a long silence ensues, broken at
-length by a circle of singers, who chant a monotonous song, narrating
-how they had journeyed towards the sea into which stars were falling,
-and how they had found the strangers, and brought them to their camp.
-As they sing this song over and over again, they beat time with their
-clubs. A brave then chants a tradition of one of their ancient chiefs,
-who was compelled to fly before a hostile tribe; all his young
-warriors were slain, and he alone escaped; but his enemies determined
-to put an end to him, set fire to the bush around him, and he was
-encircled by a net of flame. Suddenly the earth opened, and water
-stole up from the caverns and extinguished the fire, and so the chief
-was saved, and a great river was made, in which fish was plentiful. In
-the midst of the silence which follows this song, a man springs from
-out the shadows. His face is crossed with lines of red and yellow, and
-his body is painted white. In his hand is a branch of green leaves,
-and a great tuft of emeu-feathers is on his head. He stands perfectly
-still for full a quarter of an hour, looking into the sky for the
-spirits of dead men. What inspiration falls upon him at the end of
-that time it would probably be difficult to explain; but he waves his
-branch of green leaves to and fro, and the singers strike up another
-song, and the musicians beat time as before with their war-clubs,
-while the chief actor in the scene rushes about, and flourishes his
-arms in a gradually-worked-up state of the wildest excitement. He
-vanishes in the shade as suddenly as he had appeared, and in his place
-leap a dozen men, presenting so startling an appearance that Minnie
-clasps Joshua's hand in sudden alarm. Flowers are twined round their
-ankles and above their knees. Some have tails or dingoes wound about
-their heads, others wreaths of down from the white cockatoo; some have
-tails of wallabies attached to their peaked beards, and all have
-feathers in their hair. White rings are round their eyes, their noses
-are striped, and lines of red, yellow, and black are painted from
-their shoulders and breasts down to their waists, where a white ring
-encircles them. The singers burst into song again, and the
-hideously-decorated figures begin to dance, advancing towards the
-singers and retreating from them; their motions at first are slow and
-tremulous, but soon they are leaping and jumping frantically from side
-to side, each trying to out-tire the others, with such violent exertion
-as to cause them presently to fall upon the ground in a state of
-exhaustion. As soon as each recovers, he rises, and dances by himself,
-and the women utter cries of commendation, and beat the ground in
-ecstasy. These performers are followed by others, who dance in a
-serpentine line, until they present the appearance of a serpent coiling
-and uncoiling itself; as they dance, they make a hissing sound with
-their tongues, to imitate the hissing of a serpent. And so through the
-night the Corroboree continues, until, thoroughly worn out, the savages
-retire to their rest, and the woods that a while ago were filled with
-such strange life and sound, are lying quiet and solemn in the
-peaceful light of the stars.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Wealberrin and his tribe are ready to start, and Rough-and-Ready and
-the sailmaker have come to wish Minnie and Joshua good-by. They go
-into the woods, out of sight of the natives, and sit sadly upon trunks
-of trees that have been blown down by storms.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have heard say, or have read somewhere,&quot; says Rough-and-Ready,
-striving to speak gayly, &quot;that life is made up of meetings and
-partings, so that this is quite a natural thing, and not to be repined
-at. What we've got to do is to make the best of things.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It might be worse,&quot; says Tom the sailmaker, good-naturedly assisting
-Rough-and-Ready to cheer Minnie's spirits.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Bravo, Tom!&quot; exclaims Rough-and-Ready. &quot;It might be a good deal
-worse. We have escaped greater dangers than the present one, and if we
-act wisely and bravely we shall escape this. But it all depends upon
-ourselves, and if we lose courage, we lose all. You must bear that in
-mind, my dear. Why, this day twelve months we may be talking together,
-and smiling at these experiences which now seem so hard to bear!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Minnie only smiles sadly in reply, and Joshua asks Rough-and-Ready
-if there is any thing they can give him to enable him to bear them in
-remembrance.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing is needed,&quot; replies Rough-and-Ready. &quot;We have not been
-together for a very long time, but our acquaintanceship has been
-sufficiently eventful to cause us never to be able to forget each
-other. Yet I should like one thing,&quot; with a tender glance at Minnie.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What?&quot; she asks, learning by his look that it is something in her
-power to give.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A piece of your hair, Minnie,&quot; he says.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie desires Joshua to cut off a lock with his knife, and he cuts a
-thick tress and gives it to Rough-and-Ready, who winds it round his
-finger and puts it into his pocket.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now,&quot; says he, &quot;for a little sensible talk. Your sole aim must be to
-endeavor to work your way near to the settled districts, where you may
-have the chance of falling in with white people. Southward lies your
-chance of being rescued. Every day the squatters are coming farther
-inland in search of new ground for cattle-stations, and every day this
-fresh opening up of the country adds to the chances of escape.
-Whosesoever lot it is to first fall in with our countrymen must tell
-them that there are two white people living with one of the native
-tribes who are desirous of getting into civilized company again. That
-will make them look out for us perhaps. You will find that stockmen
-and bushmen are as fine and manly a set of fellows as you would desire
-to meet. I think you have the best chance of first hearing the crack
-of a stockman's whip, for your tribe is more of a southern one than
-ours.&quot; Then Rough-and-Ready told them, as much for the purpose of
-diverting Minnie's attention from the sad parting near at hand as for
-any other, of the wonderful enterprise of the Australian pioneers of
-progress, of the dangers they cheerfully encounter, of the unknown
-country they bravely plunge into, of the hardships they bear and make
-light of, and of the grand future that awaits the beautiful Australian
-continent.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To my thinking,&quot; he says with enthusiasm, &quot;there is no life that
-contains so much pure enjoyment as the life of a backwoodsman. I would
-not change it for any other--only I would prefer, for occasional mates
-and companions, white people instead of savages. I don't believe man
-was intended to live in close cities.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But even such a life as you describe,&quot; says Joshua, &quot;leads to the
-making of great cities. The pioneers go first, and the masses follow.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's the worst of it,&quot; says Rough-and-Ready; &quot;they follow, and are
-not content to live naturally. They make streets and cramp them up
-with just room enough for a score of men to walk abreast in. Down in
-Sydney there are streets, as you know, where not a half a dozen men
-could walk abreast through; but that's the way of all cities, large or
-small. Directly new land is opened up, in troop the masses, as you
-call them, who make their streets and build their houses as if there
-wasn't an inch of ground to spare; while all around them are thousands
-and thousands of miles of lovely country, with trees and flowers, and
-fruit, and fish, and game, inviting them to come and enjoy life as it
-ought to be enjoyed!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well,&quot; says Joshua, &quot;'tis the way of the world. <i>You</i> were never
-intended to live in cities, that's clear.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know. I dare say, once upon a time, I should have thought I
-was mad if such ideas as I have now had entered my head. I wasn't
-always so rough as I am now. But cities are necessary, I suppose; and
-it's folly to talk as I do. Why, I don't doubt that in less than fifty
-years a city will be built even here in these wild woods; and perhaps
-on this very spot where we now sit they'll build a prison.&quot; He speaks
-these last words with a dash of bitterness: but he soon shakes off his
-cynical humor, and proceeds to speak of more important matters
-concerning the present. &quot;Be especially careful of one thing,&quot; he
-concludes, &quot;never by any chance let them see your accordion.&quot; (Joshua
-had it slung round his shoulders, wrapped in a bag of fur which Minnie
-had made for it.) &quot;When you play, let the natives hear the music, not
-see where it comes from. By that means you will best preserve your
-influence and Minnie's over them. And bear in mind--work southward.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Here two natives make their appearance, and after looking attentively
-at the white people, glide away quietly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tis time to go,&quot; says Rough-and-Ready, jumping to his feet; &quot;that is
-their delicate way of telling us that they are waiting.&quot; Minnie, with
-streaming eyes, raises her face to his. He stoops and kisses her, and
-says tenderly, &quot;God bless and protect you, my dear!&quot; The four of them
-shake hands sorrowfully, and part--never again to meet on earth. So
-Rough-and-Ready and Tom the sailmaker disappear from the yearning gaze
-of their friends, and from this story; and Joshua and Minnie are left
-thus strangely alone.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h4>
-
-<h5>HARSH JUDGMENTS.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The foundering of the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; and the loss of every
-soul on
-board were duly recorded in the newspapers, and utterly shattered the
-happiness of that humble home in Stepney wherein love and content had
-dwelt for so many years. If Mrs. Marvel's daughter Sarah, who has
-played an insignificant part in this history, had been at home,
-unmarried, her parents might have derived relief and consolation in
-watching the progress of her fortunes; but Sarah had had the rare good
-fortune to be quickly wooed and quickly won by a country mechanic, and
-her subsequent career has nothing in common with these pages. So that
-Mr. and Mrs. Marvel were left alone in their unhappy position. They
-could not bear to live longer in the house in which Joshua had been
-born and reared, and they agreed to Dan's proposition, that they
-should move, and live with him and his sisters. What added to their
-unhappiness was, that they were at war with every one of their
-neighbors. When the news of the loss of the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; reached
-Stepney, the neighbors one and all decided that Joshua was guilty, and
-many of them declared that the punishment which had overtaken him was
-a just visitation. To listen to this in silence seemed to Joshua's
-family to be nothing less than flat treason; they fought stoutly and
-earnestly against the calumny, and defended the character of their
-lost son with all the strength of their loving hearts. But vainly. The
-neighbors persisted in their belief until George Marvel gave out that
-if he caught any man speaking against the dead, he would thrash him.
-He had not long to wait to give effect to his words. He came home one
-day with a black eye and a bruised face. &quot;I've been fighting Bob
-Turner,&quot; he said in explanation, &quot;for taking away our Josh's good
-name.&quot; Now Bob Turner was a favorite in the neighborhood, and the
-cause in which he received a drubbing was not his alone, but all
-his neighbors' as well. Was free and fair speech to be burked by
-such an obstinate and opinionated old fellow as George Marvel? Were
-they to be deprived of their legitimate privilege of gossiping and
-tittle-tattling? Things had come to a pretty pass, when a man was to
-be allowed to bully all his neighbors because they wouldn't agree with
-him. The fight between Bob Turner and George Marvel was an exciting
-topic of conversation in every house for a dozen streets round; and a
-unanimous verdict was given in favor of Bob Turner, who was looked
-upon in some sort of way as the general champion of the important
-privilege of Tittle-tattle. Much sympathy was expressed for him,
-inasmuch as he had been taken home after the fight with a battered
-nose and bunged-up eyes, and could not go to his work for a week
-afterwards. During that week George Marvel thrashed another man, and
-called a woman unpleasant names; and when the woman's husband demanded
-an explanation, he received one of such a nature as to convert him
-instantly into an active enemy. Then Bob Turner, convalescent, made
-his appearance in the streets again, with traces of disfigurement in
-his face; and burning with animosity and shame, armed himself with a
-stone tied in the corner of his pocket-handkerchief, and, swinging his
-sling defiantly, expressed his regret that Joshua had been drowned,
-for thereby the gallows had been cheated. George Marvel, hearing this,
-went in search of his enemy Bob, and came away again with his hand so
-disabled by a blow from the sling, that he also could not work for a
-week. At which Bob Turner rejoiced, and all the neighbors rejoiced
-with him. After that George Marvel refused to speak to any of his
-work-mates, and they, in retaliation, passed a resolution sending him
-to &quot;Coventry&quot; for six months; which sending to &quot;Coventry&quot; may, to the
-uninitiated, be described as the very refinement of cruelty, inasmuch
-as it ignores the offender's existence, and condemns him not to be
-spoken to by any of his fellow-workmen. This enforced silence was a
-dreadful punishment to George Marvel. He bore it patiently enough for
-two or three weeks; but then it became a horrible torture. To sit at
-his work day after day, and week after week, uttering no word, and
-with his work-mates avoiding his very look, was almost maddening. It
-drove him to something which I am sorry to have to record; it drove
-him to drink. And the habit that began to grow upon him was of the
-worst kind. Having no one to drink with him, he drank by himself, and
-soon began to carry a flat bottle in his pocket, liberally supplied
-with that national curse--Gin.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Although it may be objected of George Marvel that in his behavior
-towards his neighbors he carried things with too high a hand, he acted
-only in strict accordance with his nature; and indeed, if he had been
-less dictatorial and more conciliatory it is likely that the same
-result mould have been produced. It was not to be expected of him to
-be gentle and self-suffering under the dreadful accusation that was
-brought against his son, when Mrs. Marvel's conduct was taken into
-consideration. She could not listen patiently to the revilings of the
-neighbors; to remonstrate with them, to speak gently to them, to beg
-of them to be more merciful in their speech, would have been an
-injustice to the memory of her son. Every tender remembrance
-connected with him--and ah, how many there were, and how she cherished
-them!--urged her to defend him. And she did defend him, with all her
-mother's love, and with flaming eyes and agitated breast; told the
-revilers that they ought to be ashamed of themselves, and that they
-must be bad and wicked themselves, else they could not set their
-tongues to such bad and wicked accusations of the best son that ever
-blessed a mother's eyes. Poor thing! it was a sad sight to see her
-make her indignant defence in public, and then to see her in her
-room--pale, powerless, trembling--sink into a chair, overcome by the
-agony of her grief. It was not long before white hairs began to
-multiply, and before the cheerful look quite died out of her face. And
-Dan and Ellen worked on, and never lost their faith in the dear one
-who was lost to them; and Susan, notwithstanding what had befallen,
-still watched and rose in the night, and went into the street,
-awaiting the return of Basil Kindred's murderer. But no word of him
-passed her lips; she worked at her dressmaking in silence, and never
-uttered a cheerful word. A blight had fallen upon those once happy
-homes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They had, however, two friends and constant visitors, Praiseworthy
-Meddler and Solomon Fewster. Through good and evil report, these two
-friends remained faithful to Them, although from widely-different
-motives. Considering all the circumstances, every thing had turned out
-very fortunate for Solomon Fewster. He confessed as much to himself
-exultantly, and curiously enough, gave himself some credit for having
-brought it about. Every tittle of evidence against him had been
-destroyed; no suspicion rested against him. Joshua was drowned; and
-Ellen remained, looking prettier in her black dress than he had ever
-seen her. He was sure of her now. He had only to wait. She had an
-encumbrance, certainly, which he would gladly have dispensed with--her
-baby-girl, born in sorrow. But he made up his mind that he would be
-kind to her, if she lived; and this resolve, to his own thinking,
-atoned for any hand he may have had in Joshua's misfortunes. When he
-saw Ellen with her baby in her lap, he thought, and thought rightly,
-that he had never seen a more beautiful sight. &quot;One day,&quot; he said to
-himself, &quot;I shall see her with a child of mine upon her breast;&quot; and
-he dreamed with tender pleasure, and with no pangs of conscience, of
-the happy time to come.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So time passed on, and no ray of sunshine illumined the darkness of
-that unhappy home. Things were going from bad to worse. George Marvel
-was not a confirmed drunkard, but he drank more than was good for him;
-and his reputation as a cunning workman was on the wane. He did not
-work regularly either; he was often absent, and earned less money. His
-wife expostulated with him many times, and begged him not to drink. He
-listened without impatience, and said, &quot;It's of no use, Maggie; if I
-didn't drink I should go mad. I'm an altered man to what I was, and
-I've brought it all on myself.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay, George,&quot; she said, &quot;you cannot say that and mean it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">(It is to be noticed as a singular thing that now she never called her
-husband &quot;father,&quot; and indeed had not done so since the news of
-Joshua's death had reached them. The delicacy and thoughtfulness of a
-faithful wife's love are not to be excelled.)</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I <i>can</i> say that and mean it, Maggie,&quot; he replied; &quot;I have been the
-cause of all this. I wasn't content that my son should be a
-wood-turner; no, I drove him to sea and away from all of us. We might
-have been as happy as the day is long if he had remained at home. And
-he would have remained but for me. I remember what you said, Maggie,
-as well as if you'd said it last night: 'If Joshua is shipwrecked,
-don't forget that I warned you beforehand.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O George!&quot; cried Mrs. Marvel, in an agony of remorse, &quot;how can you
-bring my wicked words up against me now?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I do not bring them up against you, wife; I bring them up against
-myself. And they were wise and good words--not wicked ones. I ought to
-have listened to them; but I was obstinate and pig-headed, and
-thought, like a fool, that I knew better than you. Ah! but it's too
-late to alter what is past; and I've brought death to our son and
-misery to you, and shame on all of us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then he refused to listen to her longer, and walked away to chew the
-cud of his remorse, and to drink more gin. To her and to the others in
-the house he was gentle: but to everybody else he was a bear. One
-night he came home in a condition which may be described as neither
-drunk nor sober. Dan and Ellen were sitting together, and the baby--to
-whom they had given Mrs. Marvel's name of Maggie--was lying in the
-cradle, when he came into the house. It belonged to his humor not to
-show himself ashamed of his new bad habit: when he was drunk he did
-not slink away and hide himself; but exhibited a kind of reckless
-defiance, for which it would have been as hard for him as for others
-to account. So upon this occasion he came into the room, quickly
-followed by his wife, who never watched him out of doors, but who
-attended to him in the house as if he were a child. He took his seat
-in the chair which Ellen placed for him, and sat moody and silent
-while Mrs. Marvel quickly set his supper before him. But he could not
-eat it. He pushed the food from him fretfully, and took his wife's
-hand and patted it, and then said suddenly,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Maggie, we must go away from here.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Go away, George!&quot; she exclaimed. &quot;Where to?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know; but I can't stop here much longer. If I do, I shall
-bring fresh disgrace upon you. I can't live this life any longer; it
-is killing me. We have already lost our good name and our good
-character in the neighborhood, and where I used to get respect I now
-get contempt. And, Maggie, I am afraid of myself! A new workman came
-into the shop to-day, and I heard Bob Turner tell him about us and
-about our poor lost boy, and speaking of him in such a way--Dan!
-Ellen!&quot; he cried, appealing to them in justification of himself
-&quot;<i>could</i> you stand by quietly and listen to shameful words spoken of
-our Joshua? Could you restrain yourself if you heard him spoken of as
-a--Oh, but I cannot say it!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen rose, with flashing eyes and cheeks burning with honest
-indignation.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; she exclaimed; &quot;I could not, father. I should tell the wretch he
-was a coward and a villain.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I told him so--your very words: I called him a coward and a villain;
-and I almost had my hand on his throat, when the other men interfered.
-But there was a row in the place for an hour: for I was almost mad.
-And then the master called me into his room, and told me--what do you
-think? Why, that he was very sorry to see the change that had taken
-place in me lately; that he was very sorry to see that I had taken to
-drink; that I was a good workman, and that I had worked well for him
-for a many years; but that if I couldn't behave myself as I used to
-do, I must find another shop. That was a pretty thing to say to
-me!--the best workman he ever had, and the steadiest too--no, I can't
-say that now; but I could up to a little time ago. I had a mind to
-take off my apron, and fling it in his face, but thought of all of you
-stopped me. Instead of that, I asked him what he would have done in my
-place supposing he had had a son; but he stopped me there, and said
-that he was talking business, and not sentiment. With that I flung
-myself out of the room, and swore I'd join the Chartists, and teach
-the masters one day that workmen have hearts&quot;--But Mr. Marvel broke
-down here and glared about him in violent agitation.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They let him be, and waited till he was calmer; they had studied how
-best to humor him. Then Mrs. Marvel said:--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What do you think we had best do, George?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know,&quot; he answered somewhat roughly; &quot;I'm not fit to give
-advice. I was dead against you when you didn't want our poor boy to go
-to sea, and I'm rightly served for it; but I'll never advise again.
-I'll be led now, not lead.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At this point, Dan, purposely, but without attracting observation,
-pushed the cradle so as to awake baby, and thus caused a diversion.
-After that, he quietly gave Ellen and Mrs. Marvel to understand that
-he wanted to speak to Mr. Marvel alone, and the women presently glided
-out of the room. George Marvel took no notice of their departure, and
-indeed did not notice it until Dan aroused his attention. Then he
-said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where's Ellen and the wife?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Gone to bed, sir,&quot; replied Dan; &quot;and I'm glad of it, because I wanted
-to speak to you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">George Marvel gave Dan a disturbed look, and said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Won't another time do, Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir; I want to say what I have to say now, particularly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">George Marvel nodded, and somehow or other, the flat bottle in which
-he carried his gin obtruded itself unpleasantly upon his notice. It
-made a bulge in his pocket, and he tried to hide it from Dan, but did
-not succeed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Will you give me leave to speak of certain things in the past, sir,
-and not consider it a liberty?&quot; asked Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Say what you like, Dan; I can't consider any thing you say a
-liberty.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah--then I may speak of another thing presently, which makes us all
-very unhappy.&quot; (George Marvel shifted uneasily upon his chair, and
-wished he could get rid of the flat bottle which made itself so
-conspicuous in his breast-pocket.) &quot;We have gone through many changes
-in our humble life; but for the most part we have been very happy. Do
-you remember, sir, when father died, how perplexed I was as to how we
-should live, and how, when every thing seemed to be a failure, and
-there didn't seem to be a ray of hope, you came to me with twelve
-pounds four shillings, in a bag, which you had collected for us among
-the neighbors?&quot; (George Marvel groaned, and thought, &quot;What would the
-neighbors say to me now if I went to them on such an errand? But I was
-respected then.&quot;) &quot;Well, sir, from that time fortune smiled upon us,
-and we got on, until the unhappy day came. You know, sir, what father
-died of; it causes me shame and sorrow to think of, although it is a
-long time ago. I remember how Ellen and I used to sit here, in this
-very room, and tremble when we heard his step in the passage--she was
-frightened, but I was more ashamed than frightened. There was the day
-poor mother was buried--I shall never forget that night when we sat
-here in the dark; Mrs. Marvel was very kind to us that day, but indeed
-she was always that. Jo's mother couldn't be otherwise.&quot; (George
-Marvel gave a gasp, and lowered his head.) &quot;It cuts, sir, to speak of
-Jo in this way; I feel it as well as you. But it may do good. Now I'll
-tell you what I thought that night of poor mother's funeral, when I
-heard father stumbling in the passage. I thought it was cruel and
-unkind to mother; I thought that even if he had the right to bring
-shame on himself (which I am certain he hadn't, for no man has), he
-had no right to bring it on us; I thought that perhaps poor mother
-died sooner than she might have done if father had been a steady and
-sober man. For father earned very little money, and mother had to work
-very hard to make both ends meet. I have known her get up in the
-winter mornings at five o'clock, and work and slave till near
-midnight, and all because of father's idleness. Now tell me, sir, you
-whom I have always looked up to because you are a just man, could any
-thing justify father in leading the life he did?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing, Dan,&quot; replied George Marvel, in a low voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He did not even have the excuse of a great grief,&quot; said Dan
-courageously and tenderly. &quot;Why, when he died that dreadful death,
-shamed and shocked as I was, I looked upon it as a mercy to him and to
-us that he was taken away. Yet, going a long way back, to the time
-when I was very young, I remember that father was not so very bad; he
-used to drink a little, but was not always drunk. It grew upon him, I
-suppose, until it mastered him, and made him what he became.&quot;
-Certainly, Dan proved himself the cunningest of physicians; he had
-brought home to George Marvel a consciousness of the abyss towards
-which he was walking, and had executed his task tenderly, wisely, and
-without giving offence. &quot;Now, come, sir,&quot; continued Dan boldly; &quot;let
-us look things straight in the face. You said you must go away from
-here--you mean all of us, of course. Have you any idea where we should
-move to?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;None, Dan. Only one thing is plain to me--ay, much plainer to me
-after what you have said--and that is that I must go from this
-neighborhood, where once I held up my head and was respected, but
-where now every man and woman is my enemy. I never will be friends
-with them again--never! If they held out their hands to me now, I
-should refuse them after what they have said of our poor dead boy.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dead boy!&quot; mused Dan. &quot;Are you certain, sir, that Jo is dead?&quot; So
-startled was Mr. Marvel by the question, that he gazed at Dan in
-speechless astonishment. &quot;I haven't spoken of it to anybody else, but
-something tells me that our Joe is alive. Yes, sir, you may well stare
-at me, for every other person but you and Ellen and Mrs. Marvel would
-call me mad for saying such a thing. I can give you no reason for the
-belief--for it is a belief, not a fancy. Haven't you heard, sir, of
-men being wrecked on strange lands, and living there for many years
-after they were supposed to be dead? Haven't you heard of men living
-amongst savages, and suddenly appearing among their friends years and
-years after they were lost? Some such thing, happily, may have
-occurred to Jo.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But it's two years now since Josh went away,&quot; gasped Mr. Marvel; and
-then added, &quot;Don't tell mother, Dan; it would drive her out of her
-senses.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I shall wait before I tell her, but I shall tell Ellen when the
-proper time comes. Hope isn't a bad thing, sir.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But hope without reason,&quot; suggested Mr. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Except the reason that exists and the comfort that exists in thinking
-of the cases that we have read of in stories of shipwrecked men who
-have been preserved from death. But hope is a good thing always,
-whether it comes from reason or fancy. And if you can believe as I
-believe, it will be the better and not the worse for you. Indeed,
-indeed, sir, you don't know how earnest I am in this. Think of the
-friendship that exists between me and Jo; I believe it to be something
-better and higher than ordinary friendships among boys and men. It has
-grown up with us, until it has become almost a part of our very being.
-We are never out of each other's thoughts; when he was away on his
-first voyage he was always thinking of me, and I of him. And that
-Christmas night that he came home--do you know what happened then,
-sir? Ellen can tell you that during the whole of that day I was uneasy
-about Jo; I had dreamed of him the night before, and my dream made me
-unhappy, for I was convinced that he was in danger. I had no reason
-for that, nor had I any reason for telling Ellen that Jo was very near
-us an hour before he came to the door. But unhappily, it all came true
-as I feared. Now, sir, I have thought often that if Jo was dead, I
-should feel it and know it--and I don't feel it and don't know it.
-Something keeps whispering to me, 'You will see him again, be with him
-again.' And I believe that I shall. For last night, sir, I dreamed of
-Jo, and Jo was alive; and as sure as we're sitting here talking, we
-shall see Jo one day, and all the dreadful mystery that looks so black
-against him will be cleared up.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Marvel jumped to his feet, and walked excitedly about the room.
-There was something contagious in Dan's enthusiasm. So earnest, so
-thrilling was Dan's voice, that Mr. Marvel's heart beat high with the
-hope in which there was no reason.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have not done yet, sir. When you said to-night that you must go
-away from here, I was amazed, for it seemed to belong to part of my
-dream. Jo seemed to say to me, 'I can't come to you Dan; come to me.'
-And I want to go to him&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Marvel stopped suddenly in his walk, and stood before Dan with a
-startled look on his face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I want to go to him, or as near to him as I can. The last place Jo
-was heard of was at Sydney, and the ship is supposed to have foundered
-somewhere near the Australian coast. Well, sir, if by any means it can
-be managed, we ought to go to Australia.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All of us!&quot; exclaimed Mr. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All of us,&quot; repeated Dan. &quot;Why not? We are miserable here--unhappy
-here. We haven't, as you say, a friend in the place. Everybody is
-against Jo, and believe him to be bad, while we know him to good. I
-agree with you, sir, that if those we thought were our friends and who
-have spoken against Jo were to hold out their hands to me, I would not
-take them. It would be treasonable to Jo. To live on here in this way
-would only be adding to our unhappiness. I dare say we could manage to
-get along out there. Mr. Meddler says it is a rising place, and a
-splendid country for a poor man to get along in. You could take your
-tools, and could get work. I could take my birds, and should be able
-to get plenty there that I could train. Why, sir, it would be a
-splendid thing, and the best for all of us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I believe it would--I believe it would,&quot; said Mr. Marvel, his voice
-trembled with eagerness; &quot;but where is the money to come from?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We have forty pounds of Jo's, sir, that he left for you and me; I
-wouldn't mind it being spent that way. That wouldn't be any thing like
-enough, I know; but I think I have a friend. However, sir, let us
-think over it for a little while. I am glad that we've had this talk.
-You'll forgive me, sir, won't you, for what I said in the first part
-of it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">George Marvel made no reply, but, standing by Dan, put his arm
-affectionately round the neck of his son's friend; then left the room,
-and comforted his wife by a very simple act. He took the flat bottle
-out of his pocket, and said, &quot;Maggie, I have done with this; I shall
-never fill it again.&quot; And, happily for him and all of them, he kept
-his word.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h4>
-
-<h5>MR. MARVEL SHAKES THE DUST FROM HIS FEET.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan took the Old Sailor in to his confidence, and the
-impracticable
-old fellow excitedly proposed that they should leave Stepney and come
-and live with him in his barge. But as Dan declared that that was
-impossible, the Old Sailor's hopes fell down to zero.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We can't live in this neighborhood much longer,&quot; said Dan; &quot;it
-wouldn't so much matter to me, for I'm always indoors, but it does to
-Jo's father. I know what he must suffer. You see, what we want is a
-friend.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah!&quot; said the Old Sailor, &quot;what you want is a friend. Well, we'll
-talk of this again by and by.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He went down stairs to see Ellen, and found her crying over her baby.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come, come, my dear,&quot; he said; &quot;this won't do; you'll be making an
-old woman of yourself in no time.&quot; And he dried her eyes with his
-handkerchief.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You're the only friend we've got now,&quot; said Ellen sadly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor thought: &quot;Says Dan, 'What we want is a friend.' Says
-Ellen, 'You're the only friend we've got.'&quot; And he put this and that
-together, as he had done once before in the memorable conversation he
-had had with Joshua at Gravesend, when he set all matters straight.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What were you crying for, my lass?&quot; he said aloud.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, sir!&quot; replied Ellen, &quot;I don't mind telling you. I was looking
-down at baby, and thinking that when she is old enough to understand
-things--and baby is very quick, and almost understands already, don't
-you, my pet?--she will hear such stories from ill-natured people about
-father, as will make her as unhappy as her poor mother is. When I
-thought that, sir, I began to cry, and was almost wicked enough to
-believe that it would be better for both of us to die than to live
-amongst such bad-hearted people.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor did not stop long, but walked away in profound thought.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Soon after that, another misfortune occurred. George Marvel told them
-that he had left his situation. &quot;I gave it up of my own accord,
-Maggie,&quot; he said to his wife, to whom he first spoke upon the subject;
-&quot;If I hadn't, I should have done something that would have made the
-master give me warning, and I should have been disgraced. I can't make
-sure of myself now; my blood boils up so when I hear a word dropped
-about Josh, that every thing swims before my eyes. I can't help it, my
-dear. Don't blame me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She did not blame him, but said she was sure he had done what he
-thought was for the best.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I've worked in the shop, man and boy, for more than thirty years,&quot; he
-said huskily, &quot;and I doubt if I shall get another. Trade's overdone. A
-good many men are out, and I'm not as young as I was. I don't quite
-see the end of it, Maggie.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She cheered him and comforted him, and he went out the next morning in
-search of work, feeling very much ashamed of himself. It was like
-begging. He came home disheartened and footsore, and hadn't a cheerful
-word or look for any one. &quot;A nice ending this is!&quot; he said bitterly.
-&quot;But I brought it all on myself. I shouldn't have driven our boy to
-sea.&quot; He seemed to think it was nothing but strict justice that he
-should take all the blame upon himself. He earned so little money,
-that presently he had to break into Joshua's legacy to him and Dan,
-and it began to melt like magic. Things were getting very bad. The
-dressmaking work, too, was slackening, and Susan and Ellen had many
-idle days.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Solomon Fewster observed all this with inward satisfaction, although
-outwardly he sympathized with them, and was profuse in his offers of
-assistance. But they would not accept any thing from him; and very
-soon the proceeds of the birds he continued to purchase from Dan
-became their most dependable source of revenue. Notwithstanding that
-he was careful never to say a word of the past that would be
-distasteful to them, he did not make much way in their good graces.
-They did not show this, however; he was consistent in his offers of
-assistance and in his friendly behavior, and they could not show
-ingratitude; but their instincts were against him. He allowed a year
-to pass before he spoke to Ellen of his love for her, and even then he
-thought it best first to make sure of the co-operation of her friends.
-He addressed himself in the first place to George Marvel, who opened
-his eyes very wide, and was indeed very much astonished at Mr.
-Fewster's declaration. He had never suspected that Mr. Fewster had an
-attachment for Ellen.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I loved her before she was married,&quot; said Mr. Fewster to him; &quot;but
-then I saw that she loved your poor son, and I was too honorable to
-interpose. So I did not distress her by telling her of my love.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mr. Marvel thought that that was manly and straightforward, but asked
-Mr. Fewster why he spoke to him upon the subject.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are in a sort of way Ellen's father,&quot; replied Mr. Fewster, &quot;and
-it is due to you that I should speak to you first. I should not be
-justified otherwise in offering myself to Ellen. I have something to
-say also, if you will excuse me for taking the liberty&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Seeing that Mr. Fewster hesitated, Mr. Marvel bade him proceed, and
-then the wooer cunningly placed before Mr. Marvel certain advantages
-that would accrue to him if Ellen consented.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should feel it my duty,&quot; said Mr. Fewster, &quot;to see that the man I
-look upon as Ellen's father is properly cared for.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind that,&quot; said Mr. Marvel; he had recovered from his
-astonishment, and felt a sort of displeasure at Mr. Fewster's
-proposal. &quot;Never mind that,&quot; he repeated dryly, &quot;but tell me what it
-is you want me to do.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I want you to give your consent, Mr. Marvel, and to assist me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Assist you in making a woman love you, Mr. Fewster!&quot; exclaimed Mr.
-Marvel. &quot;No, no; the matter rests with you and Ellen. It is none of
-mine, and any feeling I may have in the matter it is but right I
-should keep to myself.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But you won't say any thing in my disfavor,&quot; urged Mr. Fewster,
-alarmed at Mr. Marvel's coldness of manner, and thinking to himself
-that when Ellen was his wife, he would have as little as possible to
-do with the Marvels.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I shall say nothing to Ellen one way or the other,&quot; replied Mr.
-Marvel moodily. &quot;I have no doubt Ellen knows what is due to herself.
-And to Joshua,&quot; he was about to add, but he only thought the words;
-they did not pass his lips. When Mr. Fewster went away, Mr. Marvel was
-very despondent, and thought with some bitterness that he would have
-spoken to Ellen's lover very differently, if he hadn't been so low
-down in the world. So discouraged was Mr. Fewster by his interview
-with Mr. Marvel, that he did not speak to any other members of the
-family, not even to Dan, but came straight to the point at once with
-Ellen. After all, whom else did it concern but Ellen and himself? She
-was sitting in the kitchen, working; baby was in the cradle, and upon
-Ellen's face were traces of tears. When she and baby were alone, her
-tears flowed too readily now. Solomon Fewster had prepared himself
-carefully for the occasion. He was attired in his best, and presented
-quite a holiday appearance. He bought a bunch of flowers for Ellen, of
-which he begged her acceptance. With a little hesitancy of manner, she
-took them from his hand and placed them on the table. There is
-something in the air of a wooer that betrays his purpose to the woman
-he loves, and when Ellen looked into Mr. Fewster's face and saw this,
-she rose hurriedly, and stooped to take baby out of the cradle,
-intending to leave the room. But Mr. Fewster's hand upon her arm
-restrained her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay, Ellen,&quot; he said awkwardly, &quot;let baby alone for a little; don't
-disturb her--she looks so pretty in her sleep.&quot; And calling up a look
-of admiration in his face, he contemplated baby with an appearance of
-affectionate interest, which would have won its way to the heart of
-most mothers at once. But not to Ellen's. Mr. Fewster's tender manner
-brought back to her the memory of all his disagreeable attentions when
-they were first acquainted, and she waited in silent apprehension for
-what she dreaded was to come. But round about the bush went Mr.
-Fewster.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Things are very much changed, Ellen,&quot; he observed. She would have
-resented his calling her by her Christian name on the present
-occasion, although he had often done so before; but he was Dan's
-patron and their chief dependence, and she did not dare to object.
-&quot;Very much changed,&quot; he repeated. &quot;Mr. Marvel, poor fellow, looks
-quite shabby. He has a difficulty in getting work, I believe. Very
-sad--very sad. But it's the way of the world. One man up, another man
-down, Lucky, man that who can always keep up.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;He is indeed, Mr. Fewster,&quot; said Ellen, constrained to say something
-in reply. &quot;But we can't help misfortunes coming.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No; but we can often turn bad fortune into good. Now, looking lately
-at Mr. and Mrs. Marvel, who are far from happy, poor things! far from
-happy, I have been thinking what a beautiful thing it would be to make
-them easier in their mind as regards their worldly circumstances, for
-there is no doubt that that constitutes the greatest part of their
-unhappiness. As for the other part of their unhappiness--family
-grief--time will soften that. But time doesn't soften poverty if it is
-always with you. It is a sad thing, a very sad thing, but it is so
-unfortunately. There is no harder misfortune in the world than
-poverty.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, there is, Mr. Fewster,&quot; said Ellen, who had taken baby on her
-lap as a kind of protection. &quot;There are griefs of the heart which are
-bitterer to bear than poverty.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I stand corrected. But then that will be the case with the few, not
-with the many--with the few who are superior to most people, and who
-are the more to be admired for the possession of such excellent
-virtues. I know one woman who is far above all others in this respect,
-and whom I therefore love and admire far above all other women.&quot; Ellen
-trembled and turned very pale, but Mr. Fewster proceeded rapidly,
-fearful lest he had been too precipitate, &quot;Coming back to Mrs.
-Marvel--would it not be a good thing to make her comfortable in her
-mind about her worldly circumstances?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It would be--a very good thing,&quot; answered Ellen, in a low tone.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And it can be done. There is one person who has it in her power to do
-this for Mrs. Marvel.&quot; Again Mr. Fewster paused until Ellen asked,
-&quot;Who is that person, Mr. Fewster?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You,&quot; he said eagerly. &quot;You can do this, and at the same time you can
-make a man who has loved you from the first day he saw you the
-happiest man in the world.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Stop, sir!&quot; cried Ellen, in a firm voice. &quot;You must not say what you
-were about to say. It would be folly--worse than folly--it would be
-wicked for me to pretend not to understand you. It would be merciful
-to me, and best for both of us, that you should not say any thing more
-now. I have no heart for any thing but my grief and my child.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So earnestly did she speak, that Fewster was fain to desist. The only
-words he said were, &quot;You shall see how I respect and love you: your
-word is my law;&quot; and straightway left her. But he did not leave her
-despairingly. One little word that Ellen had unconsciously uttered
-filled him with hopeful anticipation. She had said, &quot;It will be
-merciful to me, and best for both of us, that you should not say any
-thing more <i>now</i>.&quot; She had put no impression upon the word; but the
-wish that &quot;keeps the word of promise to the ear&quot; imbued it with a
-distinct utterance to Solomon Fewster's sense. &quot;I must not say any
-thing more <i>now</i>,&quot; he thought; &quot;that opens the way for the future. I
-must be content for a little while.&quot; He thought he had made a good
-move, and that he was sure to win the game.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When he was gone, Ellen caught her baby to her bosom, and ran to Dan's
-room for consolation--almost, as it seemed to her, for protection.
-There she found George Marvel sitting in an attitude of sadness. He
-had not had an hour's work for the last fortnight, and half of
-Joshua's savings was spent: but barely twenty pounds remained. When
-that was gone! Well, that was what was fermenting in George Marvel's
-mind now. When that was gone, what was he to do? Sit down and starve?
-Without doubt, they could not all live upon Dan's earnings; for Dan
-and his sisters earned barely enough to keep themselves. He groaned in
-bitterness of spirit to think that he, the only man in the house who
-could work, was doomed to idleness. He had striven hard, and still
-strove, to obtain employment--with what success has been narrated. He
-felt at times as if he would be justified in demanding work, instead
-of begging for it. Indeed, on one occasion he had asked for work in
-some what defiant tones, and, being refused, had spoken out of the
-bitterness of his heart, of the injustice and hardship that stood in
-his way of earning food, being willing to work for it honestly. The
-only answer he received was an order to quit the shop immediately, if
-he did not wish to be given in custody. The sentiments to which he had
-given utterance were soon made known to many masters in the trade,
-some of whom afterwards, in reply to his applications, said they did
-not want any Chartists in their workrooms. His case was a desperate
-one indeed. The problem which he was trying to solve as Ellen entered
-the room after her interview with Solomon Fewster was a common one
-enough, more's the pity. He would have expressed it in very simple
-words: &quot;I must work to live. I am able to work, and willing. I cannot
-get work. How am I to live?&quot; Ellen saw the trouble in his face, and
-sat down by his side. He gave her just one glance, and learned what
-had occurred; for he had seen Solomon Fewster go out of the house.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know what has occurred, my dear,&quot; he said anxiously. &quot;Mr. Fewster
-has been speaking to you. And your answer?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have no need to tell you, father,&quot; said Ellen, raising her eyes to
-his. She said nothing of the bribe Fewster had offered for her love.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">George Marvel saw that Ellen had refused Mr. Fewster, and he nodded
-grave approval; yet, from a sense of justice, was compelled to ask,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Have you considered all the circumstances, Ellen? Have you considered
-the future?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know,&quot; she answered; &quot;I only know that I have done what is
-right, and what is due to my dear Joshua's memory.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">All this was Greek to Dan, and it had to be explained to him. He
-listened in silence, and was very thoughtful afterwards. He let the
-matter drop, however, until he and Ellen were alone; and then he told
-her, gently and by degrees, of his belief that Joshua was not lost,
-and of his earnest desire to go over the seas and commence a new life.
-She, listening eagerly, almost breathlessly, pressed his hand to her
-lips and kissed him again and again, and was absolutely so simple as
-to share his belief. Hope revived within her; and when Dan said, &quot;You
-are not widowed yet, dear; of that I feel assured,&quot; she blessed him
-for the words in which there was no reason.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Other troubles came. Solomon Fewster, strong in cunning, made a new
-move in the game. His orders began to fall off, and in a short time he
-bought one bird where formerly he had bought three. Perhaps he
-thought, &quot;If love won't drive Ellen into my arms, necessity may.&quot; It
-was a cruel device, mean and merciless, and it struck fresh terror to
-their hearts. They could do nothing; but wait and watch the tide come
-up. And things grew so bad for them that they had to content
-themselves with two meals a day, and those but poor and scanty ones.
-Their condition was a strange parallel to that of the unfortunate
-passengers of the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; on the raft. There are wrecks on land
-as sad as any in the records of the sea.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Solomon Fewster, of course, was profuse in his regrets at the
-falling-off of the business, and offered to lend Dan and Ellen money,
-which they refused. He renewed his offer many times, not offended at
-the refusal. &quot;He wants to buy Ellen,&quot; thought Dan; &quot;but he doesn't
-know her. Jo said once that Ellen was not the kind of a girl for a
-heroine. Would he say so now, if he could see her, I wonder?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">It was in this way that he often thought of Joshua as of one who would
-be restored to them some day. He had fixed the belief firmly in his
-mind, and nothing could shake it. He had no hope of ever seeing Minnie
-again. She was as one who had passed out of his life forever. But she
-lived in his mind and in his heart, and came to him in his dreams. And
-in the light, often and often, he would muse upon her tenderly and
-lovingly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So they lived on, and the tide of adversity rose higher and higher,
-until they were compelled to begin to pawn things. But a better time
-was coming. The Old Sailor passing a pawn-shop one day in Dan's
-neighborhood--he was on his way to Dan's house--saw Ellen hurry out of
-the shamefaced door. He was so staggered that he allowed her to escape
-his sight. He had had no idea that things were so hard with them as
-that. When he recovered himself, he gave his chest a great thump,
-called himself &quot;a blind old swab,&quot; and made his way to Dan's house. He
-went straight down to the kitchen, prying old interloper as he was,
-and caught Ellen, in the act of counting a few--very few--small pieces
-of silver and copper in Mrs. Marvel's hand. He was so distressed, that
-the blood rushed into his face. He only desired to see Ellen alone and
-speak to her, and here he was shaming them in their poverty. The
-tender-hearted old fellow was fit to sink into the ground, he was so
-remorseful. He stammered out a few words of apology, said he thought
-Ellen was alone, but that Dan would do as well. He went up to Dan, and
-to Dan's astonishment locked the door. Then he inclined his head
-melodramatically, to be sure that no one was listening, and, being
-satisfied, drew a chair close to Dan's.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hark ye, my lad,&quot; he said: &quot;can you and I speak to the point, and
-without beating about the bush?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I think we can, sir,&quot; replied Dan, smiling; the Old Sailor's voice
-always did him good.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Frankly, then,&quot; said the Old Sailor, &quot;do you find it a hard matter to
-live?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Very hard, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No money in the house, eh?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;None, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And business falling off?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Fallen off would be more correct, sir. My earnings for the last month
-not more than ten shillings.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And Mr. Marvel?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;About a day's work in the week, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And the money that poor Josh left?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All gone, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O Dan!&quot; groaned the Old Sailor, &quot;why wasn't I told of this?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan gave him a sad look, but made no other reply.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And the poor mother,&quot; continued the Old Sailor, &quot;how must she have
-suffered! And Ellen, poor lass! and the little one! Dan, Dan! if I
-don't feel to you as if you were my son, I could find it in my heart
-to be angry with you!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay, sir,&quot; urged Dan gently, &quot;you are not to blame. We are
-unfortunate, that is all. We are not the only ones, I dare say.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Come, now, open your mind to me. Look things in the face. What do you
-see before you this time twelve months?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The practical question was like a blow, and Dan trembled. The answer
-came from his reason in which there was no hope.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What do I see before me this time twelve months? Worse poverty than
-this--and this is hard enough, God knows! We are growing poorer every
-day, and every day it is a puzzle where to-morrow's food will come
-from. All our friends have fallen off from us; when Ellen and Jo's
-mother go into the streets, not one pleasant face greets them. They
-come back, sad and suffering. And they must bear it while they remain
-in this neighborhood, if they are to be true to Jo. I can understand
-now how some good people are made bad by the world's injustice. It
-won't make them bad, I can answer for that; but I'm not so sure of Mr.
-Marvel. I haven't seen a smile on his face for months; his nature
-seems to be completely changed. I am almost afraid to think what
-remorse might drive him to, for he is continually reproaching himself
-with being the cause of all our misfortunes. He says he drove Jo to
-sea, when his influence would have kept him at home; and this thought
-stings him day and night. As for me, I earn very little money now. And
-I am so stupid,&quot; he added, with an odd smile, yet thoughtful withal,
-&quot;as to repine sometimes that we can't live without silver and copper.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor dabbed his face with his handkerchief in a state of
-great excitement during this recital, and was compelled to wait until
-he was cool before he said, &quot;So, taking them altogether, things are
-very bad.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Taking them altogether, sir,&quot; said Dan, &quot;I don't see how they could
-be worse. We have only one consolation.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What is that, Dan?&quot; asked the Old Sailor eagerly, with a faint hope
-that it was something tangible.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Our faith in Jo, and our knowledge that he is good and true, as we
-have always known him to be. Poor Jo!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor groaned.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You can't live on that, Dan,&quot; he said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir,&quot; replied Dan with rare simplicity; &quot;but it is a great
-comfort, nevertheless.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor pressed Dan's hand.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;'Tisn't so bad a world,&quot; he murmured more to himself than to Dan,
-&quot;despite its injustice.&quot; Then aloud: &quot;What would be the best thing for
-all of you to do, Dan, under the circumstances?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There is but one thing, sir; and I might as well wish for cheese from
-the moon as wish for that.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps not, Dan, perhaps not. Tell your wish.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I want some money.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah! how much?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Enough to take us to Australia, where we could commence a new life.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You hinted at that some time ago, Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's what you meant when you said you wanted a friend?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And I took no notice of it, like a hard-hearted old hunks as I am. Do
-you know why I took no notice of it, Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because I didn't want to part from you--because I didn't want to lose
-the only friends I have in the world--because I thought only of
-myself; and how lonely I should feel when you and my little Ellen and
-the good mother were thousands of miles away. Well, well! Old as I am,
-I'm not too old to learn from younger heads. Look you, my lad! But
-stop--we'll have the women up.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor went down into the kitchen where Ellen and Mrs. Marvel
-were, and took a hand of each, and led them gravely up stairs into
-Dan's room.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;This is a family council, my dears,&quot; he said, kissing them, &quot;where we
-are to speak our minds without hesitation. Dan has been making things
-clear to me, and I see a good deal to which I've been blind, selfishly
-blind, more shame to me. When the storm came on, I had an idea that
-you might be able to weather it; but you were not strong enough, and
-human hearts have not been so kind to you as winds and waves are. The
-winds howl to-day, but a calm comes to-morrow; the waves dash over you
-for a time, but presently the sea grows smooth. That's at sea; 'tis
-different on land sometimes. You have found it so, my dears, eh?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They sighed assent, and waited in a state of painful expectancy for
-what was to come.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And here you are with every sail split, with every spar broken, with
-bulwarks dashed in, and every thing adrift. And around you cruel
-tongues and unjust hearts. What! with all this craft in view, won't
-one come forward, and ask, What cheer? Not one? And yet you've held
-out a helping hand many a time, my dear&quot; (to Mrs. Marvel), &quot;as I well
-know, and spared a spar here and a bit of canvas there, with a willing
-heart and a free hand. But you are pearls, you women, and teach us
-goodness. The Lord love you, and send you happier days!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He almost broke down here; but he recovered himself by a great effort,
-and continued, somewhat huskily at first:--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, my dears, I've been in storms, but never a worse than this has
-been to you. Look up, my lass!&quot; he cried to Ellen, and pointing
-upwards to the dingy paper ceiling in so earnest a tone that he found
-all of them followed the direction of his finger, while a new-born
-hope entered their hearts. &quot;Look up! D'ye see the clouds a-breaking?
-D'ye see the sun tipping the edges with white light? If you don't,
-take my word for it, the storm's over, and a friendly craft is bearing
-down upon you.&quot; He paused awhile before he spoke again. &quot;'You see,'
-says Dan to me, 'what we want is a friend.' Says Ellen to me, the very
-same day, 'You're the only friend we've got.' What did I do? Clap on
-sail and bear down upon you? Not I!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay, sir,&quot; interposed Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hold your tongue, Dan; I deserve to have the cat for my behavior.
-Now, hark ye. Before my poor lass here was married to Josh--don't cry,
-my dear--I made over my little bit of money to them jointly, for
-better or worse. I dare say it will come to a matter of two hundred
-pounds. Will that be enough, Dan?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan's sobs prevented a reply, and the women sat silently thankful.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;So look upon that as settled,&quot; said the Old Sailor, rising; &quot;and make
-your arrangements. I'll see what ships are going out, and 'll let you
-know to-morrow.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He left the room abruptly, unable to bear the thankful looks and tears
-of his friends. Besides which, he was almost unmanned at the thought
-of parting from them. They were the only friends he had in the world,
-as he had said; and when they were gone, he would be left lonely in
-his old age. The thought flashed across him to go with them, but he
-dismissed it at once. Not only was he too old to cross the seas, but
-he felt he could not leave his barge near the old Tower Stairs.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should be like a fish out of water,&quot; he thought; &quot;and besides, I
-should only be an encumbrance to the poor souls. I shall be in my
-dotage soon, and they have troubles enough of their own. No; I'll stop
-and lay my bones in Old England.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So the faithful old soul set to work at once, and left himself with
-the very barest pittance to live on, in order to get together
-sufficient money for the necessities of his friends.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The news soon spread. Some of the neighbors said it was a good job
-they were going; some were envious; and a few repented of their
-harshness. These last went so far as to make slight advances towards
-Mr. and Mrs. Marvel. Mr. Marvel looked at them angrily, and responded
-with hard words; but his wife, a true peacemaker, was more
-conciliatory. When she remonstrated with him, and begged him to
-consider that they were sorry because they had concurred in the
-general verdict of condemnation of Joshua, he said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Let be, Maggie; if they're sorry for what they've said about Josh,
-the more shame for them for hurting us as they did. You can do as you
-like; I sha'n't mind your shaking hands with them. But for me, I've
-said I'll never forgive them, and I never will.&quot; When Susan was told
-that they were going to Australia, her dull vacant face suddenly lit
-up.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We shall be near <i>him</i>,&quot; she muttered; &quot;near Minnie too. Poor Minnie!
-where is she?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The next moment her old manner was upon her, and she relapsed into
-vacancy again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But there was one by whom the news of their intended departure was
-received with a chill of angry despair. Solomon Fewster could scarcely
-believe it when he was told. He hurried to the house, blaming himself
-for his stupidity in trying to starve Ellen into acquiescence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;This would never have come about,&quot; he thought, &quot;if they had not been
-driven to it by necessity. I ought to have shown myself a greater
-friend than ever to Dan. Gratitude would have made Ellen love me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">To obtain Ellen's love had become a mania with him. The farther she
-was removed from him, the stronger grew his desire. &quot;Perhaps it is not
-yet too late,&quot; he thought. He broke into Dan's room in feverish haste,
-and cried,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good news, Dan! I've got a customer for four birds, and he wants them
-at once.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Here are two bullfinches and two canaries,&quot; replied Dan with a queer
-smile; &quot;I thought you would have wanted them earlier. I have others
-ready, if you want more.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I'll take them by and by,&quot; said Solomon Fewster; and then treated Dan
-to a long account of the late dulness and the expected revival of
-trade, and to the certain prospect of there being a great demand for
-Dan's birds presently. Dan listened in silence, and discomfited
-Solomon Fewster by charging a higher price than usual for the
-bullfinches and canaries. Solomon Fewster thought it would be fatal to
-hesitate, and he paid the money with apparent willingness; and Dan
-gave another queer little smile as he put the money in his pocket.
-Then Fewster referred to the rumor, and Dan said it was true.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We shall sail in about a month,&quot; said Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;But why go at all?&quot; asked Fewster.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We are not able to get a living here, sir,&quot; said Dan. He did not
-tell everybody of his fancy about Joshua.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If that's your only reason,&quot; urged Fewster, &quot;stop, and let me be your
-friend. I promise that you shall never want, especially if--if&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But he could not get the intended reference to Ellen gracefully off
-his tongue.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I understand you, sir,&quot; said Dan; &quot;but nothing that you can say can
-keep us here.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">At this point Mr. Marvel entered, and Fewster left. Between the two
-men there had been an utter absence of cordiality since Fewster's
-overtures respecting Ellen. Besides, Mr. Marvel had suspected why
-Fewster's commissions for birds had fallen off, and had made Dan
-acquainted with his suspicions; and this, indeed, was the reason why
-Dan, whose eyes were open to Fewster's meanness, had taken a secret
-pleasure in charging him a high price for his present purchase.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Solomon Fewster tried by every means to induce them to stay, but his
-efforts were unavailing. The passages were taken, the day was fixed.
-The Old Sailor made special arrangements for the accommodation of
-Dan's birds on board ship, and Dan bought a number of young songsters
-to train on the voyage out, although the Old Sailor shook his head and
-expressed grave doubts whether the birds would live. As the day of
-departure approached, the excitement in the neighborhood grew
-stronger, and public opinion veered steadily round in favor of the
-Marvels. The band of the remorseful ones received fresh recruits
-daily, until, when the day arrived, there were not a dozen of the
-neighbors who were not sorry for the judgment that had been pronounced
-against Joshua, and who did not, in one way or another, give
-expression to their sorrow. Mr. Marvel would not listen to them; the
-others did, and took pleasure in listening to apologies which were in
-some sort a vindication of Joshua's character. But Mr. Marvel declared
-bitterly that he would shake the dust from his shoes the day he left
-Stepney, and that he was only too thankful to escape from the nest of
-vipers.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You women,&quot; he said, &quot;are too soft-hearted for justice: if a
-scoundrel who has wronged you comes crying to you, you look kindly on
-him, and cry with him, out of the tenderness of your hearts. But for
-me, when I think of the many years we've lived here, with never a
-black mark against us--when I think of the good turns we've done for
-this one and that one, and of the manner in which they have returned
-our good offices, I'm fit to choke with passion. They tried to
-disgrace me, and would have seen us starve without offering us bit or
-sup. But now that we're going, well off as they think, they come
-whining round us, sorry for the mud they threw at us. The mud didn't
-stick, that's one comfort. I could dash my fist in their faces when I
-think of it!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So matters went on until the morning came when they were to go aboard
-the ship at Blackwell. They had a few little odds and ends to take
-with them, and a cart was at the door to convey them to the docks. All
-the women and children in the neighborhood flocked round the cart to
-see the last of the emigrants. First Ellen, with her child, got in;
-the women kissed their hands to her, and murmured to each other that
-she looked older than her years. Ellen's eyes were blinded with tears
-as she looked up at the old house and at the familiar faces in the
-crowd. Susan was the next: she looked vacantly at the throng, and
-turned her eyes to her lap, taking no further heed of them. Dan
-followed with his birds, and listened gravely, and not without
-tenderness, to the farewells which greeted him. After him came Mr.
-and Mrs. Marvel.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good-by, my dear; God bless you! God take you safely over, my dear!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In twenty different ways were these farewells and good wishes
-expressed, and Mrs. Marvel pressed her hand upon her heart, and sobbed
-till she could not distinguish a face in the crowd that surrounded
-her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Get in Maggie,&quot; said George Marvel; and then, deliberately and
-gravely, stooped and took off his shoes. He climbed into the cart in
-his stockings, and bending over the wheel, shook the dust from his
-shoes. &quot;I'll take no dust from here with me,&quot; he said in a loud tone;
-&quot;I leave that and your lying words behind me. I loved you once, and
-loved these streets; but I've hated you and them from the time you
-turned upon us and made our lives bitterer than misfortune had already
-made them. By and by, you can tell the men I've worked with and been
-kind to, that I was glad to go from the place where I was born, and
-that I shook the dust from my feet before I went away.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then, amid a dead silence, the cart lumbered away from Stepney on to
-Blackwall. There they found the Old Sailor waiting for them. &quot;I will
-keep with you until you are fairly off,&quot; he said. They were thankful
-enough for his company, and as he did what he could to cheer them, and
-they had plenty of work to do in their cabins, they soon became more
-cheerful and hopeful than they had been for many a day. Soon the ship
-was at Gravesend, a place fraught with sad and sweet memories--for
-Ellen especially. Mrs. Friswell, at whose house the wedding was
-celebrated, came aboard to see them, and admired the baby, and
-whispered to all of them in turns, that if there ever lived a man with
-a heart tender enough for twenty men, that man was the Old Sailor, and
-no other. No need to say with what heartiness they all indorsed this
-sentiment.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A surprise awaited them. On the morning of the ship's sailing, there
-came climbing up the side Solomon Fewster. He accosted them gayly.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You were wondering, I dare say, why I hadn't been to wish you
-good-by.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;We thought you would be sure to come although at the last moment,&quot;
-answered Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Solomon Fewster first rubbed his hands and then his chin.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No need to say good-by,&quot; he said, with a conscious look at Ellen; &quot;I
-am going with you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They were too much astonished to reply.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; he continued; &quot;when my best friends were going, I didn't like
-the idea of stopping behind. So I've sold my business upon capital
-terms--capital terms. A good sum down, and a share in the profits for
-the next ten years. Shall be able to make plenty of money in
-Australia, eh, Mr. Meddler?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No doubt, no doubt,&quot; said the Old Sailor, with a disturbed look.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Solomon Fewster, divining that his absence would be agreeable to them,
-hurried away to look after his boxes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am sorry he's going,&quot; said Dan; &quot;but it can't be helped. We must
-make the best of every thing not the worst.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In the tender conversation that ensued, consequent upon their parting
-from the Old Sailor, Solomon Fewster was forgotten.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Write to me as often as you can,&quot; said the Old Sailor, &quot;and I will
-do the same to you, though my old joints are getting stiff. You'll
-soon be settled down somewhere, and you can let me know. 'Tis a sad
-word--good-by. But I shall soon be saying good-by to all the world, my
-dears.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He sat among them until the last moment, and first wished Susan
-good-by.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Then said George Marvel, as he and the Old Sailor stood hand in hand,
-amidst the confusion of ropes and cases, &quot;If there had been hearts
-like yours among our neighbors, my poor Josh's name would not have
-been blackened. Heaven will reward you. I couldn't honor my own father
-more than I honor you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor quivered at the stroke; he could better have stood a
-hard knock. He kissed Ellen tenderly, and she him; and he put a ribbon
-round baby's neck with a little silver whistle at the end of it. &quot;In
-memory of me, my dear,&quot; he said.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will teach her that it is the symbol of the heart of a good man,
-dear sir,&quot; said Ellen, her eyes full of tears; &quot;and when she is an old
-woman--if she lives to be such--it may happen that she will show it to
-her children, and tell them her mother's sad story, and how her life
-was sweetened by the kindest, dearest, best&quot;-- Sobs choked her voice.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The Old Sailor waited a while until she recovered, and then said, with
-exquisite tenderness,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If she will sound the whistle sometimes when she is a young woman,
-and I am in my grave, I shall hear her perhaps.&quot; He smiled
-thoughtfully at this conceit. And then folded Ellen in his arms, and
-saying, &quot;God bless you, my lass!&quot; released her and turned to Dan and
-Mrs. Marvel. She took his hand and kissed it; she could have knelt to
-him, her heart was so full--too full to speak.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I know, I know, my dear,&quot; he said, and kissed her. &quot;I asked you once
-if you would like to be a sailor, Dan; do you remember?&quot; His arm was
-resting on Dan's shoulder, and Dan drew it round his neck and laid his
-face upon it. The action conveyed such tender meaning, that the tears
-rolled down the Old Sailor's cheeks.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;When I see Joe,&quot; said Dan, &quot;I may tell him that you never doubted
-him?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ay, Dan,&quot; replied the Old Sailor aloud; but thought, &quot;I shall see him
-before you do, my lad.&quot; He would not disturb Dan's faith by uttering
-the thought.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do I remember your asking if I would like to be a sailor?&quot; continued
-Dan. &quot;Ah, yes! what of that day can I ever forget? You taught me to
-splice a rope, and I showed you Jo's heart and mine spliced, so that
-nothing could sever them. And the poor birds shipwrecked, as Jo is. We
-little thought then, did we, sir?&quot; The Old Sailor grasped Dan's hand,
-and the next minute was in his boat; and the ship was swinging round,
-hiding him from the loving gaze of his friends.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Through the river that runs to the sea the ship makes its way slowly
-and grandly. In the ship's stern, looking with dimmed eyes over the
-bulwarks, are Dan and Ellen and Mr. and Mrs. Marvel. Good-by, dear
-friend! Good-by, dear heart! Smaller and smaller grows the ship in his
-eyes. Can they see him still? he is lost in the whirl of boats. No; he
-is standing up, cap in hand. Good-by, faithful simple heart, richer in
-your honest goodness than if you were endowed with all the jewels that
-lie concealed in earth's depths. He is lost to them now, and they
-shall see him no more--here!</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Lost? No. He is with them every night in their prayers--he dwells in
-their hearts. To their dying days they think of him tenderly.
-Blessings on the dear Old Sailor!</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h4>
-
-<h5>SO NEAR AND YET SO FAR.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Joshua.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That is all; I thought you were asleep.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are very kind to me, Joshua. I feel a little better to-day, I
-think.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;That's a good hearing, Minnie. Get strong, my dear, for my sake.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah! If I could; but I fear--I fear.&quot; (This last to herself under her
-breath.) &quot;Sit nearer, Joshua.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Many moons had passed, and with the exception that Minnie had grown
-very weak, only one event of importance had occurred since the
-departure of Rough-and-Ready and Tom the sailmaker. That event was the
-death of the Lascar; and the discovery made a deep impression on
-Joshua. It occurred within a few weeks of the parting of the tribes.
-The tribe of which Opara was the chief, observing that Minnie was
-drooping, resolved to return to the spot where they had found her. By
-easy stages they travelled near to the rocks where the castaways had
-landed, and rested there some days, in the belief that Minnie would
-regain her health. The mysterious influence she had over them was
-never weakened, and as she and Joshua were inseparable, he shared in
-the favor which was shown to her. She saw this, and would not allow
-him to quit her side, fearful lest harm should befall him. One evening
-she and Joshua had wandered from the native camp to the pool where the
-Lascar had stolen upon him, with the intention of killing him; and
-they talked together of the villain, and wondered what had become of
-him. They saw a wonderful sight as they sat and talked. From the
-distant woods rose an immense army of flying foxes, not less than four
-or five thousand in number, flying in a straight line to a distant
-pool. When they arrived over the water, they dipped down to drink in
-regular order, keeping their ranks, so that presently they presented
-the shape of a perfect curve. Joshua and Minnie watched the singular
-flight until the last of the animals had satisfied its thirst; shortly
-afterwards the entire flock disappeared. As they retraced their steps
-to the native camp, Joshua observed something unusual lying on the
-ground. It looked like a crouching animal, and Joshua drew Minnie
-aside fearing that it might be a dangerous creature; but it remained
-perfectly still, and Joshua, drawn thereto by an irresistible impulse,
-slowly approached the spot. To his horror he found that it was a human
-creature--dead; and turning the face recognized the Lascar. So! his
-enemy was dead, and this was the end of his animosity. The
-circumstances of the eventful meeting when he had rescued Susan from
-the Lascar's pursuit came to Joshua's mind as he looked upon the dead
-form. &quot;His hate of me would not have lived so long,&quot; thought Joshua,
-&quot;if it had not been fed by other means. Whom did he refer to when he
-spoke of his master the day he stole upon me with the stone? But that
-is past discovery now!&quot; The dead man's face was distorted by agony, as
-if he had died in torture, and Joshua looked around for the cause of
-death. There were a variety of trees near the spot--among them some
-stinging trees. Joshua knew the fatal effect of the deadly tree, and
-divined that the Lascar had fallen from one of the higher trees, which
-he must have climbed in search of food, into the poisonous nettles,
-and so been stung to death. He could not have been dead above a few
-hours. Joshua turned away, and told Minnie.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You will not leave him there unburied, Joshua?&quot; said Minnie.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, Minnie, it would not be right. He was our enemy, but there is an
-end to all that now. Sit down on this trunk, my dear, and I will be
-kinder to him in death than he was to me in life.&quot; With his knife and
-a stout stick he removed sufficient soil to lay the dead man in; as he
-moved the body, a silver watch fell from a pocket. Joshua picked it
-up, and involuntarily opened it. There was an inscription on the case,
-roughly scratched in, and Joshua read, &quot;From Solomon Fewster to his
-Lascar friend.&quot; Joshua's heart beat loudly as he read these words. He
-felt that he was on the eve of a discovery. &quot;They knew each other,&quot; he
-thought in amazement; and then, like a flash, it came upon him that
-Solomon Fewster was the master for whom the Lascar said he was
-working. Eagerly he searched the Lascar's pockets for more evidence;
-and found it in the shape of the following document: &quot;To my Lascar
-friend: I give you twenty-five pounds in gold, and a silver watch and
-two knives for services you have rendered me in connection with J. M.
-And I promise you twenty-five pounds more in gold, if; when you return
-in the 'Merry Andrew,' you have accomplished what has been agreed upon
-between us.--S. F.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua read this document twice, and then looked round, as if in
-expectation of meeting Solomon Fewster face to face.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Let me fix the villain's features in my mind,&quot; he thought; &quot;I will
-raise him before me, so that when we meet, in this world or the next,
-I may bring his treachery home to him.&quot; With the eyes of his mind he
-saw Solomon Fewster's false face, and he dashed his fist into the air
-with a loud cry. &quot;Fool!&quot; he muttered, recovering himself; &quot;am I
-growing as much a savage as those amongst whom I live? Was it Fewster
-or this villain who stabbed me when I came home?&quot; He looked down, and
-seemed to find his answer. &quot;It was your hand that struck the blow, and
-he employed you. He was too much of a coward to do it himself, and he
-paid you for your services as you have told me. And he wanted to get
-me out of the way, so that he might win the love of my Ellen.&quot; A
-bitter smile came to his lips, passed away, and a sweeter expression
-took its place. &quot;To win the love of my Ellen! No, he can never do
-that; she is mine till death, and after it, and is as true to me as I
-am to her. Ellen, dear wife! hear me, and be comforted.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Concealed beneath his covering of fur, was a small bag, made of stout
-skin, well dried, containing Ellen's portrait, her lock of hair, Dan's
-Bible, and the page from Captain Liddle's log-book, appointing him
-captain. Into this bag he put the silver watch and Fewster's document.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Rest there,&quot; he muttered. &quot;When I am dead, chance may direct these
-relics into the hands of my friends. I will write a statement myself
-of certain things, and place it with these. Be merciful, O God! and
-keep firm the faith of my friends.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The appeal was like a prayer, and its utterance soothed him. He laid
-the Lascar's body in the shallow grave, and covered it as well as he
-could with earth and leaves and branches. Then he returned to Minnie,
-and they walked to the camp. He did not tell her of his discovery. It
-would have made her more unhappy.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">On another occasion they were sitting together in the woods, in
-silence and resignation. They had sat so for full half an hour, and
-not a word had passed between them; their thoughts were with their
-friends, thousands of miles away. Suddenly there came to their ears
-the tinkle of a bell. They started, and looked at each other in
-wonder. A wild hope entered Joshua's heart. The sound was faint but
-distinct. It was like an evidence of approaching civilization.
-Presently it sounded again, and was followed by other bells of
-different tones, but each note being clearly uttered. Tinkle, tinkle,
-tinkle! till the woods were filled with music. Creeping slowly and
-softly in the direction of the sounds, they discovered the cause. The
-sounds were not produced, as they had hoped, by bells on the necks of
-cattle, but by a congregation of small birds of a greenish-yellow
-color, who, perched upon the branches of trees, in a spot where the
-trees formed a circle, were singing to each other their sweetest
-songs. Disturbed by the approach of footsteps, the birds hid
-themselves among the leaves, and were silent; but Minnie and Joshua
-remained perfectly still, and soon the sweet sounds were heard again,
-and the concert was resumed, to the delight of the hearers.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For many evenings after this Joshua and Minnie came to the spot to
-listen to the melody of the bell-birds. It was on one of these
-evenings that an idea in association with the birds presented itself
-to Joshua. Why should he not employ a little of his idle time in
-training some of the birds with which the beautiful woods abounded, as
-Dan and he used to do in their boyish days? He trembled with delight
-at the thought, and was eager to begin. It seemed to bring him nearer
-to Dan and the beloved ones at home. He told Minnie of his fancy, and
-she encouraged it. He would set about it at once; but first he must
-make a cage. He made one of wickerwork, sufficiently large to hold a
-score of birds; and in a very little while his cage was inhabited by
-birds as beautiful and almost as docile as any he had taught at home.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">All this while they were allowed by the natives to do pretty well what
-they pleased. Food was supplied to them regularly, and they were not
-expected to work or hunt for it. Scarcely a night passed without
-Joshua played his accordion in the shade of their hut, and the
-singular fancy which the natives entertained respecting Minnie was
-strengthened by these mysterious melodious sounds. From time to time
-the natives shifted their camp, according to the seasons, and they
-invariably regulated their day's walking by Minnie's strength.
-Uncultured and savage as these ignorant creatures were, they were
-tender and kind to Minnie and Joshua, and showed them a thousand
-little attentions which could only have been prompted by the most
-delicate consideration. Joshua's fancy about the birds was quite a
-natural thing in their eyes. Minnie wanted the birds to talk to; she
-understood the mysterious voices of birds and trees. Their reverence
-for her was increased when they saw her one day with a golden-crowned
-honey-sucker upon her finger. This was one of the first birds which
-Joshua had tamed; he was careful to give it its favorite food,--the
-blossoms of the blue gum-tree when it was in flower, and at all times
-honey and sweet leaves, and had anticipated the effect it would
-produce upon the natives, when they saw it perching contentedly upon
-Minnie's finger.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;See!&quot; said Opara, &quot;the birds know our Star; she talks to them the
-language of the trees. From us they fly, and hide themselves in
-clouds; but she bids them come, and they rest upon her bosom.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Soon other birds were tamed and trained; and the wonder spread to
-distant tribes, who made long journeys to see the Star of Opara's
-tribe, who understood the voice of Nature, and talked with all the
-children of the Great Mother; for so the simple savages interpreted
-it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Minnie grew weaker and weaker. She concealed her weakness as much
-as possible from Joshua, who was very tender to her, very, very kind.
-He had quite forgiven her; no cloud disturbed the harmony of their
-strange lives. Bearing always in mind the advice which Rough-and-Ready
-had given them to endeavor to make their way southward, and knowing
-the one great wish of Joshua's heart, she had used all her influence
-with the tribe to induce them every time they shifted their camp to
-move in that direction, and had succeeded so far, that every season
-found them nearer to the settled districts. But, although three years
-had passed, they had not seen the slightest signs of civilization.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Once Joshua was in a terrible state of agitation. He was gathering
-sweet leaves for his birds, when &quot;Crack!&quot; went the sound of a whip. He
-uttered a joyful cry, and threw himself upon the ground with all his
-heart in his ears, for he had not caught the direction of the sound.
-&quot;Crack!&quot; went the whip again. He ran swiftly towards it, and listened
-again. Rough-and-Ready had told him many times to keep his ears sharp
-open for the crack of a whip, and here it was, at last, after weary,
-weary waiting.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You will find most likely,&quot; Rough-and-Ready had said, &quot;that it is a
-stockman looking after some stray cattle. Then you will be all right.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The thoughts that crowded upon Joshua's mind in the few moments that
-elapsed between the cracking of the whip would occupy an hour to
-describe; they may be summarized thus: &quot;That is a stockman's whip.
-Thank God for it! I shall see him presently, and he will wait while I
-fetch Minnie. Then we will go to where his companions are, and I will
-get some presents for our kind friends the natives. Minnie will soon
-grow strong; thank God! We will go down to Sydney, and get passage
-home in the first ship. Then--then--O Ellen, Ellen! O Dan, dear
-friend! dear mother and father! All will come right--all will be set
-right. Thank God!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Crack, crack!&quot; Nearer--nearer. He was close to it, but saw nothing.
-He looked round carefully, watchfully. &quot;Crack!&quot; Over his head. He
-turned his eyes to the clouds, and saw a bird--the whip-bird--flying
-over the trees, uttering its &quot;crack!&quot; as it flew, taking his hopes
-with it, and bearing them away to where perhaps he would never meet
-with them again.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">And Dan is sitting in a wooden hut built near the banks of a beautiful
-river. Seas do not divide him from his friend. They both live on the
-same bit of land, ignorant of each other's whereabouts. The same
-continent holds those two faithful hearts. What is Dan doing? who are
-with him? what kind of a place is this where he and they reside?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A village in which dwell not more than a few hundred inhabitants. Not
-free from care, for care is human; but happier than inhabitants of
-great cities are. There is plenty of work for hands to do; more than
-there are hands to do it. What luxury there is, is the luxury of
-nature--rich fruits, bright flowers, clear atmosphere, sweet air,
-lovely skies, grand sunrises and sunsets, and sparkling watercourses
-whose banks teem with graceful shapes and lovely color. Here a city is
-to be formed, and they who live in it and are content shall see it
-grow up to strength--ay, to manhood--and shall have a share in its
-increasing wealth. First, tents of canvas to live in; now huts of
-wood; by and by houses of stone. But these last, though they be
-stronger, will not bring more enduring happiness. And here is Dan,
-with his birds, as usual. He earns money enough now. Not a hundred
-miles away, in the capital of the colony of which this little village
-is a speck, lives a dealer who comes regularly to Dan's wooden house,
-and buys such birds as he has trained, and pays handsomely for them.
-Not Solomon Fewster. He also is in that rising capital, and Dan will
-not sell him a bird. Not that Solomon Fewster needs them; for he
-is making money fast, and the miserly passion of accumulation is
-growing very strong in him. His business carries him often to Dan's
-village,--twice a month, perhaps; and regularly every two or three
-months he makes some kind of overture to Ellen, who shakes her head,
-and sometimes answers him, and sometimes evades the subject. Dan has
-remonstrated with him, and has begged him never to refer to the
-subject again. But he answers,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I cannot help it, Dan. If you knew what love was, you would know that
-a man can no more help loving than he can help feeling. It was love
-that first brought me to your house in Stepney. I didn't want the
-birds; but so that I might have the privilege of coming to the
-house--and of doing you and Ellen a good turn at the same time, mind,
-Dan--I took a deal of trouble to find dealers in birds who would buy
-them of me at the same price I paid you for them; and I shouldn't be
-telling an untruth if I said that I lost money by many of the birds I
-paid you for. One man I sold to failed, and I had to take a
-composition. Well, I didn't know then that Ellen loved Joshua; nothing
-was said between them; and when he first went away he wasn't old
-enough to know his own mind. He came back, and when he was ill I
-didn't show a bad spirit to him. After Ellen and he were engaged, I
-did not desert you; and I didn't annoy Ellen by forcing my attentions
-upon her. You spoke to me once about that unfortunate canary that died
-in my hand when I bade Joshua good-by. You can't think that I killed
-it purposely. But you may be able to form some idea of my feelings
-(which can't always be suppressed, Dan), and of the restraint I had to
-put upon myself when in the presence of the man who had taken from me
-the most precious thing in the world to me--Ellen's love--and you can
-put down the poor canary's death to that cause. I've no need to say
-any thing more. I've loved Ellen all along, and I've always treated
-her with respect and consideration. You mustn't debar me from the
-chance of being happy; Ellen may change her mind one day. It is many
-years now since I first saw her, a girl; and that I am content now to
-wait and hope ought to be sufficient proof of my disinterestedness and
-sincerity.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">To such-like pleading Dan finds no reply, and so they go on as usual.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">To Dan, as he sits with his birds, comes Ellen with her peaceful sad
-face. She has not found happiness, but she has found peace. Solomon
-Fewster is not her only suitor. Every single man in the village is
-enamoured of her, and would be glad to make her his wife. But she
-tells her story to all with a womanly purpose. She is married, and her
-husband went out as third mate of the &quot;Merry Andrew,&quot; and the ship was
-lost and all hands, as it is supposed. But she cannot believe that her
-husband is dead; something tells her that he is alive--living upon
-some uninhabited shore mayhap, and looking forward to the time when,
-by the mercy of God, they shall be together again. Her story is
-repeated from one to another; and some kind souls who have been in the
-colony a few years come to her and Dan with little scraps of
-information concerning the &quot;Merry Andrew,&quot; such as the finding of a
-piece of a figure-head which belonged to her husband's ship, and other
-similar evidence, which convince them that the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; was lost
-off the Australian coast. &quot;Is it not possible,&quot; asks Dan, &quot;that some
-of the crew may have been saved, and may be dwelling now on some part
-of the uninhabited Australian coast?&quot; &quot;Quite possible,&quot; they answer:
-and they relate such instances as they know of vessels being wrecked,
-and of some of the sailors being saved and found years after they were
-supposed to be lost. Dan and Ellen derive much comfort from these
-narrations.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ellen's little child Maggie is the pet of the village. At the present
-moment she is playing with her goat in the paddock at the back of the
-house, breathing in health with fresh air. To-night, when she says her
-prayers, she will pray that God will please send her father home--a
-prayer joined in by all of them every night.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Who is this? Susan. In no whit changed. With the same strange watchful
-manner upon her as in the old days in Stepney, but never uttering a
-word concerning Joshua. Sometimes she will go for days without
-speaking to a soul, and a smile never crosses her lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And this gentle woman, going about the house quietly, doing her work
-cheerfully, with a sweet smile for every one she comes across, and by
-whose side the little Maggie is content to sit in silence with her
-hands folded in her lap? This is Mrs. Marvel. You would know her if
-you had only seen her once, although her hair is nearly white now; for
-hers is one of the peaceful faces that dwell in your memory and remind
-you of your mother. As for her hair being nearly white--for the matter
-of that, so is Mr. Marvel's. It would not do for him to pay for every
-white hair that is pulled out of his head, as at the commencement of
-this story.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They sit together on this evening, as is their wont, and as they used
-to do in the dear old kitchen in Stepney, and talk of Joshua. And
-George Marvel smokes his pipe, and his wife darns--more slowly than in
-the old days, for her sight is not so strong as it was--and Dan trains
-his birds and reads to his friends. They have been sorely afflicted,
-but faith and love have banished despair.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">On this very evening, hundreds of miles away, Joshua is sitting on the
-ground in his gunyah, amusing himself and Minnie with his birds. She
-is reclining on her 'possum-skin rug, looking affectionately and
-gratefully at Joshua, who has grown very wise in the different habits
-and natures of the strange birds he has before him. With what care he
-has collected them! Here is the quaint kingfisher, flitting about as
-contentedly as it used to flit among the dead trees that lie on the
-banks of creeks. Joshua, watching it one day, saw it suddenly dart
-into the water with such eagerness that it was completely submerged;
-he thought it was drowned, but the next instant it appeared above the
-surface with a small fish in its mouth, with which it hopped,
-exultant, into the woodland again. It is a handsome bird, and a
-singular-looking one too, with its beak about a quarter as long as its
-body, and its light crimson breast and azure back and shrewd brown
-eyes. Here is the mountain bee-eater, the wondrous blending of colors
-in whose plumage suggests the fancy that its feathers must have been
-dyed in the glorious sunsets of the South, and that it first saw the
-light when rainbows were shining. Here are the honeysuckers,
-yellow-eared, blue-cheeked, and golden-crowned; and the
-crimson-throated manakin, with its pleasant song; and the spotted
-finch, with red eyes; and the scarlet-backed warbler and the pretty
-thrush, black-crowned and orange-breasted, whose piping in the early
-morning was the cheerfullest of all the birds; and the yellow-rumped
-fly-catcher, fussing about, and chattering like a magpie. All these
-are here, and many others; and Joshua often thinks how delighted Dan
-would be with them. Joshua and Minnie are clothed completely in fur
-garments; all their civilized clothes are gone. Joshua's hair has
-grown so, that his face is quite covered with it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Would they know me at home, Minnie, if they could see me as I am?&quot; he
-asks.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I doubt it,&quot; she replies; &quot;but they would know your voice.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Shall we ever see them again?&quot; he asks, more of himself than of her.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She sighs, and does not answer. He may; she prays that he will. But
-she! The breeze sighs with her, as she thinks that she will never
-again look upon the faces of her friends. Well! perhaps it is better
-so. She desires no happier lot than to die in Joshua's arms, with his
-eyes looking kindly upon her. She has been growing weaker and weaker
-every day; she does not complain, but he often regards her with
-apprehensive looks, and prays that she may not be taken from him. They
-live together as brother and sister; the love he bears for her is as
-pure as the love he bears for his mother. He speaks to her often of
-Dan, and she listens with sweet patience. But he does not understand
-that her love for him is part of her very nature, and that it cannot
-be transferred--that it cannot change. He does not understand it, does
-not know it; he deludes himself with the hope that, if it should
-mercifully chance that they should reach home, the dear hope of Dan's
-life may be realized, and that Minnie's love and Dan's belief in her
-purity may brighten the days of his friend. She knows that Joshua
-entertains this hope, and does not pain him by telling him how false
-it is.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So the days pass, and the seasons change. In accordance with Minnie's
-wish, the tribe moves farther and farther southward, and is rewarded
-by finding plenty of game in the woods, and fish in the rivers and
-pools. Summer dies, and the beautiful autumn brings strength to
-Minnie; but the succeeding winter strikes her down. Her savage friends
-and worshippers are grieved to the heart at her weakness, and she,
-true to her purpose and to Joshua, makes them understand that health
-and strength for her lie southward, and urges them on towards the
-settled districts.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If we are saved,&quot; says Joshua, &quot;I shall owe all my happiness to you,
-Minnie. Once you gave me life; now perhaps you will give me what is
-better than life.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A look of content rests in her eyes as he says this, and she muses
-upon it for days afterwards, murmuring the words to herself before she
-falls asleep. Speaking to her of her father at one time, he is
-surprised to hear her say, &quot;Father is dead, Joshua.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How do you know?&quot; he asks, startled.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I feel it--here,&quot; pressing her hand to her heart; &quot;I have dreamt that
-I saw him and mother together. Some things come to us intuitively; we
-do not need to be told.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you know any thing else about those at home?&quot; he asks, half awed
-by her solemn tone.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No; but one other thing I know that I ought not to keep from you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He waits in silence for what is to come, dreading to speak. She takes
-his hand; hers is hot with fever.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do not think me unkind,&quot; she says, &quot;but for many weeks I have felt
-impelled to tell you, and now that the time is drawing near, I must no
-longer keep it from you. Can you guess what it is, my dear?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O Minnie! Minnie!&quot; he cries, falling on his knees at her feet; &quot;do
-not tell me that you are going to leave me!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I cannot help it, dear,&quot; she says, tenderly. &quot;Before the spring dies
-I shall leave you. I shall spend my summer in another world.&quot; She
-repeats the words, as though they conveyed to her some deeper meaning
-than they implied. &quot;Yes, I shall spend my summer in another world. My
-heart has been wintered in this.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He strives to reason her out of her belief,--tells her that it is
-fancy; but she gently checks him, with &quot;Nay, dear Joshua. 'Tis but a
-little time to spring. Let us talk of other things.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Soon the buds begin to come, and the leaves grow green. Minnie hides
-her weakness, says that she feels stronger, and Joshua begins to hope.
-But he does not know what motive she has in this; he does not know
-that she puts on an appearance of strength, so that she may not retard
-their course southward. In many of their marches she sustains her
-fainting heart by strength, of love. &quot;Nearer, nearer,&quot; she whispers to
-herself; &quot;he shall owe all his happiness to me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Come there to the camp one day some members of another tribe, who
-speak of having seen men of the color of Joshua and Minnie a couple of
-hundred miles to the south, mounted on strange animals. These
-aboriginal wanderers, indeed, are at variance with one another: some
-say that men and animals are one; others, that they are distinct
-creatures. Opara tells Joshua and Minnie, who are able by this time to
-understand the native tongue, and to make themselves understood.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What Opara says is good,&quot; says Minnie. &quot;We will go towards these men.
-They are our brothers. They will give me back my strength.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Opara being gone, Minnie asks Joshua what he thinks. Joshua, with
-eager voice and sparkling eyes, cries that they are stockmen on
-horses, as Rough-and-Ready had told them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All will yet be well,&quot; he says, his voice trembling with joyful
-emotion; &quot;in a few months perhaps we shall be among white people
-again.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She listens in silence: and presently, in accordance with their
-nightly custom, he takes his accordion from its bag of fur, and plays
-the sweetest airs he knows. &quot;Poor Tom Bowling&quot; and &quot;Bread-and-cheese
-and Kisses&quot; are his principal themes; and as he plays, the
-newly-inspired hope stirs into life his dearest memories, and brings
-before him those pictures of his boyish days that he most loves to
-dwell upon.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XL.</h4>
-
-<h5>FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">The river runs onward like a sparkling stream, now rushing
-between
-high banks of forest land, dotted here and there with miniature
-islands of rocks covered with lichens and shrubs, now settling into a
-still-looking reach, its surface covered with delicate mauve-colored
-water-lilies. Near to a great grove of palms upon the river's bank the
-native camp is fixed; and not far from the spot the channel forms a
-descent, more steep than abrupt, where it is cut up into hundreds of
-brawling streams by islands of beautiful shrubs. The natives have
-pitched their camp here, in accordance with Minnie's wish; they have
-been marching southward for more than a week, and Minnie has borne up
-bravely; but her strength has failed her at last, and she is compelled
-to succumb. It is understood among them that their Star is sick, and,
-the mintapas (doctors) are anxious to practise their healing arts upon
-her, but their efforts are firmly and gently repulsed by Joshua. For
-this, they look upon him with no friendly eye, and but for Opara his
-life among them would not be so pleasant as it has been. He pays no
-heed to them; his anxiety concerning Minnie engrosses all his thoughts
-now.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">She is sinking fast, and has grown so weak that he is obliged to carry
-her about. The spot she most loves is where the river is still and
-quiet; there she will lie for hours, with Joshua by her side, watching
-the shifting shadows of the clouds in the water's depths. She says but
-little; but every time her eyes turn to Joshua, they are filled with
-gratitude and love. Once she expressed a desire to write something,
-and Joshua makes a little ink with paint and gum-juice, and makes a
-pen from a duck's quill; but paper he has none.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your Bible,&quot; says Minnie.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He gives it to her, and she writes a few lines on the blank page at
-the end. Then she tears out the leaf, and folding it carefully says,
-&quot;This is for Dan, when you see him&quot; (having a full faith that Joshua
-and Dan will meet); &quot;do not read it, but place it carefully by.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He puts it with Ellen's lock of hair in the bag he wears round his
-neck.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">That same night a change comes over Minnie. He has been away from the
-hut for a few minutes, and when he returns he sees her sitting in a
-listening attitude with her hand to her ear.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Minnie!&quot; he exclaims; but she holds up a warning finger, and says,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hush, Joshua! I am listening to the singing of the sea. Is it not
-sweet?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">His heart beats rapidly, and he takes her disengaged hand in his, and
-asks her what she has in the hand she is holding to her ear.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is a shell,&quot; she says. She shows it to him and her face assumes
-the exact childlike expression of pleasure and simplicity it wore in
-the farewell interview he had with her before he first went to sea.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You know me, Minnie?&quot; he says, distressed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, dear Joshua! What a question! But you must not be angry with me.
-I took the shell--but I took it for you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay but, Minnie,&quot; he says, striving to arrest her wandering thoughts;
-&quot;listen to me&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Call me little Minnie,&quot; she pleads like a child, in the softest of
-voices.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Little Minnie!&quot; he sighs, with an almost broken heart.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Little Minnie! Little Minnie!&quot; she repeats. &quot;The shell is singing it.
-Hush!&quot; She remains silent for some time after this, and Joshua deems
-it best not to disturb her. An hour may have passed when she calls to
-him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Say that again, Joshua,&quot; she says. Wondering, he asks her what it is
-she wishes him to repeat.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay,&quot; she answers, &quot;that is to tease me. But you must say it after
-me, word for word: 'What you did, you did through love, and there
-could not be much wrong in it.'&quot; He recognizes his own words to her,
-and in a troubled voice he repeats, &quot;What you did, you did through
-love, and there could not be much wrong in it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I am satisfied,&quot; she says; &quot;you have made me happy. I shall try to
-sleep now.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He covers her with a rug, and watches by her side during the night.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He has no heart for his birds, and were it not that she takes a
-childish delight in them, and is glad to have them around her, he
-would have taken them to the woods and set them free. She does not
-recover consciousness of her true position; she believes that she and
-Joshua are children together, and--it may be happily--all the horrors
-through which she has passed have faded from her mind. Her great
-delight is to play with the birds and listen to her shell. Sometimes
-the fancy that he is at sea possesses her, and she talks to him of
-himself, as she used to talk to Dan, and coaxes him to tell her the
-story of the death of Golden Cloud and other incidents of his boyish
-life. In this condition she remains for many days, until the time
-comes when she awakes from a deep sleep, and says, in her weak voice,
-&quot;I have been dreaming, Joshua. I thought we were children again.&quot; Then
-opening her hand with the shell in it, looks at it, blushing, and
-says, &quot;It is the old shell, Joshua. You remember.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you feel stronger, Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, dear; I shall not grow stronger. It will be as I told you a
-little while ago. Spring is not gone yet; but it will be soon. Have
-they asked about me?&quot; meaning the natives.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, many times every day, Minnie; and have brought their choicest
-food for you regularly.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They have been very kind to us. Rough-and-Ready was not quite right
-about them. I used to tremble with fear when he spoke of them. Poor
-Rough-and-Ready and poor Tom! What has become of them, I wonder!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">They muse sadly over the memory of those two good friends.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Some lives are very hard, Joshua,&quot; she continues. &quot;His was, I am
-sure. I suppose it was as he said, and that he has done bad things.
-Yet how kind and gentle he was to us! It is hard to reconcile; but it
-seems to me, my dear, that our lots are shaped for us. We can't help
-our feelings; we don't make them; they come, and we must act as they
-prompt us to act. Opara and the savages now: they couldn't help being
-born savages, and they have had no good teaching. Don't think me
-wicked for what I am going to say, my dear.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, Minnie; go on.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, I can't help believing that a good deal of what is called wrong
-is not wrong, and that bad is not always bad. I can't explain exactly
-what I mean, but I feel it.&quot; She appears to think that she has got out
-of her depth, and suddenly changes the subject. &quot;Take me out, and let
-me see Opara. You must carry me; I am not as heavy as I was.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He lifts her in his arms, and carries her, with her arm round his
-neck, out of the hut towards the savages. They crowd round her, and
-she speaks a few words to them, and smiles upon them. Then, by easy
-stages, he carries her to her favorite spot by the river's side, and
-there they rest.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;All rivers have currents, Joshua?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, my dear.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Even this, that looks so still and quiet?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Even this, my dear; the current is running, although you cannot see
-it. But remember, the river is not so still everywhere. A very few
-miles away it is full of life; it is rushing over the rocks, and is
-never still for an instant day and night.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Strange! So restless there, so quiet here! It has been so with me: so
-restless there, so quiet here! Look! we can see the fish in the clear
-depths. How beautifully the wild jasmine smells!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He gathers a little for her, and a bunch of fringed violets, and she
-puts them in her breast. Then she encourages him to talk of home, and
-listens with sincere pleasure to his praises of Dan.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is good to be loved by such a heart,&quot; she muses.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, Minnie!&quot; he ventures to say, &quot;if it could have been with him as
-he once hoped it would!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;About me?&quot; she replies unhesitatingly. &quot;Does not that seem to be a
-proof that our lots are shaped for us? Tell him that I was very, very
-sorry, and that I begged him to forgive me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But it is chiefly about Joshua's mother that she speaks, and wishes
-that her mother had lived. In the midst of the conversation she falls
-into a light slumber, and opening her eyes half an hour afterwards,
-resumes from the point where they had left off, as if there had been
-no interval of silence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">On another occasion they are together on the same spot, and Joshua is
-telling her of a beautiful part of the river's bank which she had not
-seen. &quot;The river is narrow there, and even more peaceful than this,&quot;
-he says. &quot;The trees on both sides bend over the water until the
-topmost branches almost touch, so that the river is in shade. The sun
-was peeping through the arch of branches, lighting up the water here
-and there, and the golden light streaked the white leaves of the
-lilies, over which the pretty lotus-bird was running with so light a
-step as not to stir the flowers.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How beautiful!&quot; she says softly. &quot;At night, when the moon is shining
-on the water and the lily-leaves through the arch of branches, how
-grand and peaceful it must be! Joshua, bend your head, my dear. When I
-am gone, let me be buried there. Nay, don't cry; but promise.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In a broken voice he promises her, and she is content. Then she bids
-him bring Opara to her; and the aged chief comes and sits by her side.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Opara,&quot; she says, taking Joshua's hand and kissing it, &quot;this my
-brother and I are one. You understand?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I understand,&quot; he answers; and Joshua wonders what it is she is about
-to say.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You see how weak I have grown, Opara. Look at my hand; you can see
-the light through it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Say, my daughter,&quot; asks Opara: &quot;you who know the language of birds
-and flowers,--you who know the mysteries of the Grand Vault,--can you
-not make yourself strong?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, Opara; I am wanted.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Cannot our mintapas make you strong?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, Opara; their skill is not for me. Tell them so; and tell them I
-thank them, and will not forget them. Listen. Many moons ago, I walked
-in the woods, where the leaves were singing to each other, and where
-the wind whispered strange things as it travelled through the trees. I
-heard a voice; I listened; and I was told that when the next summer
-came, I should be wanted--There!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Opara gravely followed the motion of her hand, as it pointed upwards.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The summer is coming, and I must go. Do not disturb me then; my
-brother will see to me; and tell your young men and women to let me
-rest.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will tell them, and they will obey. Will our daughter return to
-us?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Minnie catches at this question eagerly, and clasps Joshua's hand with
-a firmer clasp.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will return, if you will do one thing for me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Opara will do it.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It will take many days to do.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If it takes many moons to do, it shall be done.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Opara's name shall be known in the Grand Vault,&quot; says Minnie in an
-earnest tone. &quot;Take heed of my words. Those men of the same color as
-my brother, of which you were told some time ago, you have not seen
-them?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;They are southward. My brother has a message for them from me. He has
-promised to deliver it to them; but he does not know the country. If
-he goes by himself, bad men of other tribes may meet him and take him
-with them. If you and some of your young men will accompany him south
-until he sees the strangers, or is near to them, I will return to you
-by and by, and your tribe shall never want food. The strangers will be
-kind to you, and will give you good things. Will Opara do this, and
-protect my brother?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Opara will do this, and will protect your brother.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Good.&quot; She gives the old chief her hand, and he places it on his
-eyes, and departs gravely.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua for a time is too agitated to speak. This last proof of her
-devotion is the crowning sacrifice of her life. She is the first to
-break the silence.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Joshua, my dear, I have made atonement?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He can only say, &quot;O my dear, my dear, how unworthy I am in my own
-eyes!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nay, nay,&quot; she says soothingly, &quot;you are all that is good and noble.
-A better heart, a purer, never beat. I have committed a great fault,
-and have done you a great wrong--unconsciously, my dear, and without
-thought; and, by the mercy of our Father, I have been able to atone
-for it. Think of me as a child, my dear, who has loved you with all
-her heart, despite her wilfulness. Take me in your arms as you would a
-child, and say that you forgive me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He takes her in his arms, and, to satisfy her, sobs out the words she
-wishes to hear. Her face is close to his.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;This kiss for Ellen,&quot; she whispers; &quot;this for your dear, kind mother;
-this for Dan. Tell all of them of my fancy, that I wish to live in
-their minds, not as a woman, but as a child as a child who erred
-through love, and who had not been taught to understand what duty was.
-Who said this, 'There is no earthly sacrifice that love will not
-sanctify.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Your father!&quot; he whispers, amazed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I heard him; I was in the room when he blessed my mother for devoting
-her life to him.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Presently she asks him to fetch his birds, and he runs and brings
-them. He opens cage, and they hop about her contentedly. He gathers
-some wild flowers, and places them by her side. Shortly afterwards she
-directs his attention to the fringed violets, which do not live an
-hour after they are gathered. &quot;They are withering,&quot; she says. &quot;Do not
-pluck any more of the pretty things; let them live.&quot; He supports her
-in his arms; and she watches the birds with glistening eyes, and
-whispers that they remind her of dear Dan. Then she falls asleep, with
-her face turned to Joshua. He does not disturb her. Every thing around
-is very still and quiet. He thinks of the restless river a few miles
-away, and of Minnie's words, &quot;So restless there, so quiet here! It has
-been so with me.&quot; The afternoon passes; the sun is going down, and the
-heavens are filled with wondrous color. Minnie has been asleep for a
-long while now. Shall he arouse her? Her fair face is perfectly still,
-and a smile is on her lips. &quot;Minnie!&quot; he whispers. Her hand is on her
-heart, and in her hand the shell. She does not speak; and a darkness
-comes upon him, and his heart grows cold as he presses his lips to
-hers. She has gone to spend the summer of her life in another world.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Opara holds the last words of Minnie sacred. To the expressed desire
-of the doctors of the tribe to inter Minnie according to their rites,
-he says, &quot;Our daughter has spoken, and Opara has promised. Her brother
-will see to her. Let her rest.&quot; So, on the following night, Joshua is
-standing alone by Minnie's grave, which he has strewn with wild
-flowers. In the rude coffin of bark, which he has cut and made with
-his own hands, he places also the sweetest-smelling flowers he can
-find. Her shell he leaves in her hand, and cuts a long tress from her
-hair. &quot;For Dan,&quot; he murmurs.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He buries her in the place he had described to her, and where she had
-expressed a wish to be laid. It is just such a night as she pictured.
-The moon is streaming through the interlaced branches on the beautiful
-lilies and the peaceful water. He reads prayers from Dan's Bible, and
-falls upon his knees; and, as he sobs there, the words of her father
-recur to inn, and he repeats their sense prayerfully: &quot;She is a wild
-flower; the impulse of her mind is under the control of the impulse of
-her heart. She is oblivious of all else, defiant of all else. Those of
-her friends who have the consciousness of a higher wisdom than she
-possesses, those of them who can recognize that the promptings of such
-a heart as hers may possibly lead her into dangerous paths, must guide
-her gently, tenderly. If any betray her, he will have to answer for it
-at the Judgment-seat!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Judge me,&quot; he cries aloud, raising his arms to heaven, &quot;and so deal
-with me! This dear angel lies in her grave pure as at her birth. But
-she will speak for me, dear, honored sister!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">In the distance, standing in the shadow of the trees, are the natives,
-their bodies streaked with white. They do not intrude upon Joshua's
-sorrow. Slowly he piles the earth upon the faithful heart, and kisses
-the earth with passionate grief. When he is calmer, he reads his Bible
-by the moon's light; and, as he reads, peace comes to him.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XLI.</h4>
-
-<h5>JOSHUA AND THE OLD WIZARD.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">For two weeks the natives mourned for Minnie. Their grief was
-sincere,
-notwithstanding that it was expressed in barbarous fashion--such as
-painting their bodies white with pipeclay, and inflicting painful
-gashes upon their breasts and arms with shells and stones. They
-observed Joshua gathering wild flowers to place upon her grave, and
-every day after that, the women and children collected the prettiest
-and rarest flowers they could find, and decorated Minnie's grave with
-them. During this time a terrible feeling of desolation came upon
-Joshua. If Opara failed to keep the promise he had given Minnie, what
-would become of him? He thought of some words Dan had spoken to him in
-one of their boyish conversations, when they were talking of Robinson
-Crusoe. Dan had said he thought it strange that Robinson did not
-forget how to speak his native language, and had wondered that he
-didn't go mad. This remembrance was terrible to Joshua. At night, when
-he was alone in his hut, he would speak to himself, and would tremble
-at his voice; and stopping sometimes with half-uttered words upon his
-tongue, would be seized with sudden terror as at an unfamiliar sound.
-But at the end of a fortnight, Opara came to Joshua, and said, &quot;Our
-days of mourning are over; but the image of our daughter will dwell
-forever in our hearts. To-night we hold a council. Shall we tarry yet
-a while, or shall we prepare to depart?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have a message for my brothers and hers,&quot; replied Joshua. &quot;They
-live southward. Is that the direction Opara will take?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Opara will do as he has promised,&quot; said the old chief with dignity,
-&quot;and will accompany you to the south.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;My sister will be glad if her message is delivered soon;&quot; and
-Joshua's heart beat quickly at the prospect of deliverance.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Opara gravely bent his head; and that night it was decided that twenty
-young men and doctors of the tribe, including Opara, should start in a
-couple of days, with Joshua, for the south. When Joshua was informed
-of this, he went to Minnie's grave, and shed tears of joy, and
-gathered a little of the earth, and placed it in the bag round his
-neck which contained his most precious possessions. On the appointed
-morning they started early, accompanied by the entire tribe; but by
-noon all the stragglers had departed. In a few days their road lay
-through very rough country, where, although fruits and birds were
-plentiful (it being summer), Opara said they would not be able to live
-in the winter. Their great difficulty was to obtain water, for the
-creeks and watercourses were drying up; and Joshua was filled with
-admiration at the resources of the natives, who found water in
-places--digging it out of trees, indeed, very often--were a stranger
-would never have dreamed of searching for it. When Joshua saw them
-strike their stone weapons into a tree whence cold bright water
-flowed, he could not help thinking of Moses striking the rock. A
-favorite food with them was a species of shrubby plant which they
-called Karkalla, and which yielded a rich luscious fruit; and they
-ate, with intense relish, many species of grubs which they cut out of
-the bark of trees.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Among the party was one famous wizard and doctor, who was not disposed
-to look upon Joshua with the same friendly eye as the others did. When
-Minnie was ill, he had been especially desirous of exercising his arts
-upon her, and of restoring her to health, by which means his
-reputation with the tribe would have been enormously increased; and
-when Minnie died, he entertained the belief that he could have saved
-her if he had been allowed. This doctor's name was Nullaboin, and he
-had joined Joshua's escort because he thought that he might, by
-watching Joshua's movements, obtain some kind of knowledge that might
-be useful to him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">During the latter days of Minnie's illness Joshua had not played his
-accordion, which, it must be borne in mind, the natives had never
-seen. Joshua had kept it jealously concealed in its covering of fur,
-and had never played it in sight of the natives. It was at the end of
-the second week of their journey, when Joshua was looking out
-anxiously for traces of white settlers, that a circumstance occurred
-which boded him great danger. He had wandered, as he had been in the
-habit of doing every night, a long distance from where the natives
-pitched their camp. From time to time Opara and his party had met
-natives of different tribes, with whom they had conversed (though
-sometimes with difficulty, for their dialects differed) concerning the
-white men; and on this morning a strange native had given them such
-information as led Opara to tell Joshua that he believed he would soon
-be able to deliver Minnie's message to her brothers. Interpreting by
-this that the stranger they had met had seen something of Englishmen,
-Joshua, in the night, wandered farther from the camp than usual, in
-the vague hope that he might come upon traces of his countrymen. He
-saw none, and yet thought they might be near. An idea struck him. &quot;Why
-should I not play my accordion?&quot; he thought. &quot;I might be within a
-short distance of my deliverers, and not know it. The sound of
-civilized music might reach their ears, and they would come to me.&quot; He
-acted upon the thought without delay. For the first time for many
-weeks, he took his accordion from its covering (it was slung round his
-shoulders by a strap of dried skin), and walked through the woods,
-playing, and swinging the instrument in the air, so that the sound
-should travel far. He little dreamed of the effect he produced.
-Nullaboin was tracking him--had tracked him every night in his
-wanderings. Hitherto Nullaboin had learned nothing; but now directly
-the music struck upon his ears, he was so amazed as almost to betray
-himself. The idea that flashed through that cunning savage mind was as
-singular as it was original. It was neither more nor less than that
-Joshua held Minnie's spirit imprisoned in the strange instrument from
-which the melodious sounds proceeded. They were the same as used to
-proceed from Minnie's hut, when it was imagined she was speaking with
-invisible shapes. What wonders might he not perform, could he obtain
-possession of that power! The mysterious spirits of air and heaven
-would speak to him, and would tell him strange things. But how could
-he obtain it--how? Joshua was strong--too strong for him. He was an
-old man--ay, he was an old man, and these spirits, if he could speak
-to them in their language, might teach him how to become young again.
-The courses of his blood quickened through the old wizard's veins at
-the wild hope, and he picked up a stone and cut at his breast in his
-excitement. He could not hope to wrest the magic power from Joshua
-singly. He must enlist his companions on his side. His influence was
-great, but Opara's was greater. He dreaded that aged chief. &quot;If Opara
-knows,&quot; was his cunning thought, &quot;Opara will claim it for himself.
-No, no; it is mine Nullaboin's. Here me, Pulyalanna! Strike Opara with
-your thunder to-night! Strike him dead! He has lived long enough.&quot; But
-as he thought, he started away in terror. Among the trees some twenty
-yards away, he saw a crouching figure, which he took to be one of the
-fabulous Purkabidnies, that roam through the woods at night to slay
-black men. It was but the charred stump of a tree, but it was
-sufficient to cause Nullaboin, the wizard, to fly from the spot in
-direst terror, towards the camp. He lay awake until Joshua returned,
-and noted with his lynx eyes that Joshua wore the magic instrument
-strapped round his shoulders. The following day he took occasion to
-speak to Joshua in a subtle manner, as thus: &quot;Nullaboin dreamt last
-night of his daughter the Star.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua nodded.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;She spoke to me. Her voice was like the voice of the birds. I shall
-see her soon.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua gave him a startled look.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Has her brother seen her?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Has she not spoken to him?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Nullaboin is a great mintapa, and his daughter knows his power.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">All this was Greek to Joshua, and he did not encourage the old wizard
-to continue his revelations. But during that day and the next,
-Nullaboin was busy working upon the credulous minds of the younger
-natives, and found but little difficulty in inflaming their curiosity.
-Joshua's eagerness had become almost painful by this time; and when
-they were travelling over plains, every speck on the horizon became a
-horseman in his anxious eyes. Occasionally they had to make their way
-through dense scrub, where there were but few trees; but for the most
-part their road lay through the woods, where tall timber was abundant.
-Under any other circumstances, Joshua would have found the life he was
-leading wonderfully interesting, fatiguing as it was. Now they were
-wending their way through a gully, the heights on each side of which
-were so thickly wooded as almost to shut out the light of heaven; now
-they were on a plain somewhat thinly dotted with trees when suddenly a
-young savage would dart off in pursuit of a bee which his wonderful
-sight had detected fifty feet high in the air. Away buzzed the bee
-through the clear air, and, with his eyes fixed upon the tiny insect,
-after it flew the savage joined by other young men of the party, the
-older men following more leisurely. With unerring sight the hunters
-ran until the bee settled upon a tree; and with wondrous speed the
-bee-hunter, seeing the sugar-bags in the topmost branches, climbed the
-trunk, cutting notches in the bark for his toes with his stone
-hatchet, until he reached the sweet store, with which he loaded
-himself, and then rejoined his companions. Now they caught an enormous
-guana, more than five feet in length, upon which the natives feasted;
-and saw strange specimens of the mantis, which looked like rotten
-pieces of dead twigs until they were touched, when they crawled away
-by the aid of their abundant misshapen limbs. Now they came to a place
-where, surrounded by almost impenetrable scrub, in which patches of
-wild bananas grew, were a number of fresh-water lagoons, filled with
-reeds and weeds of every description, and abounding in screeching
-cockatoos and beautifully-colored ducks. While Nullaboin was busy with
-his scheme for obtaining the magic box in which he imagined Minnie's
-spirit was imprisoned, some members of a strange tribe came to the
-party, one of whom, to Joshua's amazement, was singing in imperfect
-English a verse of the ballad, &quot;He promised to buy me a bunch of blue
-ribbons.&quot;<a name="div4Ref_01" href="#div4_01"><sup>[1]</sup></a> The singer knew
-no other words of English: but he
-contrived to make Joshua understand that he had been among white men,
-which, indeed, was sufficiently evident from his singing.</p>
-<br>
-<p>----------</p>
-
-<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_01" href="#div4Ref_01">Footnote 1</a>: A fact.</p>
-
-<p>----------</p>
-
-<br>
-<p class="normal">&quot;Opara,&quot; said Joshua, with sparkling eyes, &quot;my brothers are
-near.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It is well,&quot; was Opara's simple reply. &quot;Opara will have performed his
-promise. When his daughter returns to her tribe, she will thank
-Opara.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But by this time Nullaboin's plans were matured; and that night, when
-Joshua wandered into the woods, his heart filled with grateful
-feelings towards the faithful savages, he was followed stealthily by
-Nullaboin, and a half-a-dozen braves who had joined in his plot.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;At last!&quot; thought Joshua, visions of happiness to come floating
-before his eyes--&quot;at last! Perhaps to-morrow I shall see the faces of
-my countrymen, and then, and then&quot;-- But he could not think clearly;
-for as the images of those dearest to him came before him, the false
-face of Solomon Fewster seemed to cast a shadow upon his happiness. He
-leaned against a silver-leaved gum-tree, and tried to calm himself,
-and in a little while succeeded. Ellen was true to him, he was sure.
-And Dan? &quot;Is he training his birds still?&quot; he thought &quot;How has he
-borne his great grief?&quot; He saw before him the dear old kitchen in
-Stepney, exactly as he had seen it last; every chair and every piece
-of crockery was in its exact place. Every detail of those last few
-minutes at home presented itself clearly to him: his yearning look at
-the old familiar room; his walking up the stairs to the street-door
-with his face hidden in his mother's neck, and she caressing him, as
-she had done when he was a little child. Almost unconsciously he had
-taken out his accordion, and his fingers were wandering over the keys,
-playing softly those airs most in consonance with his thoughts. He
-even murmured the words of &quot;Tom Bowling:&quot;</p>
-<br>
-
-<p style="margin-left:10%; text-indent:-10px; font-size:90%">&quot;Here, a sheer
-hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling,<br>
-The darling of our crew.&quot;</p>
-
-<br>
-<p class="continue">&quot;Dear Old Sailor! How glad I shall be to see his honest
-face!&quot; And he
-saw the Old Sailor take a wedding-ring out of a piece of silver-paper,
-with a triumphant expression upon his face, as he had done in that
-memorable interview in Gravesend, when--whiz! Good God! what was
-this? The sky seemed to come down upon the earth, and he sank through
-it--down! down!--</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Nullaboin, snatching the accordion from the falling man,
-hugged it to
-his naked breast, and glided swiftly away, followed by his
-confederates. They must have traversed full four miles before they
-paused, and then they looked cautiously around, to assure themselves
-that they were alone. The old wizard had kept the instrument tightly
-pressed to his bosom during the flight, so that no sound had proceeded
-from it; but now, when they paused, his grasp relaxed. His hand was on
-the keys: and and as the accordion gradually distended itself, a slow
-wail issued from it, which so terrified him that he let it fall to the
-ground, so that the weak and plaintive sound was followed by a harsh
-and sudden jangle of all the notes. Appalled at this angry cry, which
-was to them full of fearful meaning, the younger savages, with
-palpitating hearts and dismayed faces, flew from the spot, and left
-Nullaboin alone with the terrible prize. He stood like a statue for
-many minutes, although the thick beads of perspiration were rolling
-down his face and beard, and then cautiously approached the prostrate
-mystery. Encouraged by its silence, he stooped over it, and, after his
-savage fashion, entreated it to speak to him. No answer came. What
-should he do? A sudden light came into his eyes. Minnie's spirit was
-imprisoned there, and she was angry. He would release her. He lifted
-the accordion gently from the ground, and timidly pressed his finger
-upon one of the higher keys. The response was gentle, almost piteous;
-it was an appeal to him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;O Star of the tribe!&quot; he whispered, &quot;Nullaboin will set you free.
-Make him great!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He took a small green-stone mogo (hatchet) from his girdle, and
-carefully cut a long hole in the cloth. He held his hand over it to
-grasp the spirit; but he saw nothing, heard nothing. He waited;
-nothing came. He took it in his hand, and waved it up and down; no
-sound issued from it. The spirit had fled, and the old wizard was left
-despairing.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua felt no pain. A delicious sense of rest was upon him.
-Of all
-the memories that came to him in his dreams, the happy holiday he had
-spent with Dan and Ellen on the Old Sailor's barge was the most vivid.
-He lived once more through the whole of that happy day--stood in Dan's
-room in his holiday clothes, with food for the birds which were to be
-presented to the Old Sailor--went down to breakfast, and saw Ellen's
-yearning look as they talked of the coming pleasures of the day--saw
-her run out of the room and run in again, almost mad with delight
-because Susan had obtained permission for her to accompany the
-lads--rode in the creaking cart through dingy Whitechapel--saw Dan
-swinging in the hammock and gazing at him affectionately while he was
-rowing--heard every word of the Old Sailor's sea-stories over
-again--sat on the deck in the twilight in a state of delicious
-happiness by Ellen's side, and went down into the saloon, and heard
-the Old Sailor sing, and then Ellen, her favorite song of
-&quot;Bread-and-cheese and Kisses.&quot; After that a darkness came upon him,
-and he opened his eyes, and saw the stars shining in the heavens; but
-they were shut out immediately afterwards, and he was standing on the
-deck of the &quot;Merry Andrew&quot; the night the ship struck on the rocks;
-holding Minnie in his arms; the dead faces of his shipmates crowded
-upon him, rising from the cruel sea with the exact expression upon
-their features that they wore when he last saw them; then came his
-encounter with the Lascar in the woods; and that memory brought to him
-the face of Solomon Fewster, which lingered long; but it faded in its
-turn, and gave way to other fancies, the most enduring of which was
-the river near which Minnie was buried, and the refrain of her words,
-&quot;So restless there, so quiet here!&quot; dwelt in his mind through the long
-night.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When he awoke it was daylight. He struggled to his feet, but could
-scarcely stand for weakness. He had been struck by a boomerang on the
-temple, and had lost a great deal of blood. He was so weak and
-bewildered that, even now that he was awake the past incidents of his
-life were strangely mingled in his mind. It was not until after long
-mental pondering and sifting of incidents that the true knowledge of
-his position and of what had occurred to him dawned upon his senses.
-He looked round for his accordion; it was gone. Then he thought,
-&quot;Opara has betrayed me at the last moment. They have stolen my
-accordion, and they have left me here for dead. But they may return at
-any moment to strip me of what I have about me.&quot; Weak and faint as he
-was he crawled cautiously towards the most thickly-wooded part of the
-forest, and there concealed himself. &quot;What now?&quot; he thought. &quot;Must I
-wait for death?&quot; For indeed he was too weak to walk. His heart almost
-fainted within him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Now, when I was so near to deliverance,&quot; he groaned aloud, shedding
-bitter tears, &quot;to be thus dashed back to misery!&quot; But even as he
-uttered the words, he heard the crack of a stockman's whip. Crack! It
-rang through the woods and through his heart. Not the mockery of a
-whip-bird this time! No, no; it was too near; and it was followed by
-the sound of horses' hoofs and by the sound of English voices. Thank
-God! thank God!</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<h4>CHAPTER XLII.</h4>
-
-<h5>FAITHFUL HEARTS.</h5>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">On a pleasant summer evening Dan and Ellen and George Marvel
-were
-sitting in the shade of the veranda which surrounded three sides of
-their house. The house was built of wood, and was all on one floor,
-and there was a garden in the front and in the rear. George Marvel was
-smoking his pipe as usual, and having by this time got used to the
-short clays, which were the only ones he could now obtain, had just
-declared that he enjoyed a short pipe as well as a long one; &quot;though I
-couldn't stomach them at first, Dan, as you know.&quot; Dan nodded in
-acquiescence; he had no time to reply; for at that moment a great
-shouting was heard, and the mail-cart was seen driving round the
-corner towards them. The arrival of the mail-cart in the village was
-an event of the utmost importance, and was always greeted with cheers
-by the excited population. There was a mail-service once a fortnight,
-and sometimes it would be a day or two behind, which was most
-serviceable to the inhabitants of the village, as giving them
-something to be anxious about and to talk about. The driver (who was
-contractor for the mail, owner of the mail-cart, and driver of it, all
-in one) had one invariable excuse when he was late; he had been
-waiting for the birds. Now, when Dan first heard this, he, without
-knowing its meaning, felt instantly attracted to the driver of the
-mail, whose name was Ramsay; and when he had an explanation from the
-lips of a neighbor to whom Ramsay had given a lift (he was always
-giving kindly &quot;lifts&quot; to one and another), Dan was disposed to be
-affectionately familiar with him. This feeling being reciprocated by
-Ramsay, an intimacy sprung up between them, the consequence of which
-was, that Ramsay, after delivering his mails to the postmaster (a
-rheumatic old woman, deaf, and almost blind), came as regularly as a
-clock to have a smoke and a chat with Dan and the Marvels. A curious
-character was Ramsay; a man who had seen better days--who had, indeed,
-once been very wealthy--who had been plundered and deceived from his
-youth upwards--and who yet retained a kindliness to every living thing
-with which he came in contact. Thus, his waiting for the birds: it was
-whimsical, pretty childish, some said; consisting in stopping
-whichever of his two steady old mares he was driving, immediately he
-saw a bird on the bush track before him. &quot;Get out of my way, little
-bird,&quot; he would say in a singularly gentle voice, and he would give
-his whip a flick at the back of his cart, which had not the slightest
-effect in disturbing the little creature that blocked the road. But
-Ramsay could no more drive past it than he could drive through a wire
-fence; and he often found it necessary to descend from his cart, and
-walk softly towards the bird, which, having probably by that time
-finished its pecking, would jerk up its cunning head towards the
-intruder, and leisurely take flight to the nearest tree, where it
-would watch the lazy old mare trotting along and would receive perhaps
-a comical &quot;Good-morning, little bird!&quot; from the gentle-hearted
-mail-contractor.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When Ramsay had delivered his mail to the rheumatic old female
-postmaster, he would look over the letters and newspapers (five
-minutes was long enough to sort the lot of them) to see whether there
-was any thing for Dan and Mr. Marvel. On this evening there was a
-newspaper; and Ramsay, taking possession of it, walked leisurely to
-the house of his friends. Ellen's child, Maggie, saw him, and ran to
-him for a jump in the air, and he stopped to indulge her until he was
-out of breath, when he was glad to deliver her into her mother's
-charge, shaking his head laughingly in answer to her cries for &quot;more!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Hi, Mrs. Wattles!&quot; he shouted to a woman who was passing. &quot;There's a
-letter for you at the post-office.&quot; Which sent Mrs. Wattles off, in
-eager haste, to receive her missive.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You're a day late,&quot; said Dan, as Ramsay opened the gate.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Waiting for the birds, Dan; couldn't get along for the creatures.
-Here's a newspaper for you.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The newspaper had an English postage-stamp upon it, and there was
-something marked inside.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It's from the Old Sailor!&quot; cried Dan, and pressed it to his lips and
-so did Ellen, and all those simple foolish people, in turns, one after
-another. The paragraph that was marked related how a ship, with all
-hands, was reported lost ten years ago, and there was nothing more
-heard of her until a week before the newspaper was printed, when into
-the London Docks came a vessel from China, which had been driven out
-of her course, luckily, and had in consequence picked up six men off
-an island, who had been living there for many years; and how that
-these men belonged to the crew who were supposed to have gone to the
-bottom ten years before. You may imagine that they read this paragraph
-half a dozen times at the least, having Joshua in their minds all the
-time, and that Ellen and Mrs. Marvel disappeared for a few minutes to
-have a cry together. While they were away, the men sat silent and
-grave, Dan reading the newspaper, and George Marvel and Ramsay smoking
-their pipes.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Now, once in every month--that is, by every other mail--Ramsay had to
-deliver a mail-bag at a cattle-station known as Bull's Run. The
-station was between forty and fifty miles distant from the village,
-and Ramsay took two days for the journey, out of a merciful regard for
-his old mare. As he had to start for Bull's Run early in the morning,
-he did not stay late with his friends, but bade them goodnight at
-about nine o'clock. When he was gone, the Old Sailor became the
-subject of conversation, and every circumstance of their intimacy was
-recalled and dwelt upon with loving affection. Every night they sat
-together--Susan as well, although she never joined in the
-conversation--talking of one thing and another. Time had softened
-their grief, but it had not made them less constant; their hearts beat
-as fondly and devotedly for Joshua as ever they had done.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan and Mr. and Mrs. Marvel had gone to bed; Ellen and Dan were
-alone. Between these two an undefinable sympathy existed; they could
-almost read each other's thoughts; and this night Ellen lingered when
-the others had retired to rest, because she had read in Dan's face the
-signs of something more than usually important in his mind. For a long
-time they were silent; the stillness of every thing around impressed
-them deeply. The nature of their thoughts and the stillness of the
-night, in which there was something solemn, brought to both of them
-the memory of another night, years ago, when they had sat alone as
-they were sitting now, with Basil Kindred's unopened diary before
-them.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ellen,&quot; said Dan, playing with her fingers thoughtfully, &quot;I have
-dreamed of Jo lately more often than usual, and to-night my thoughts
-dwell upon him so strongly that I shall not go to bed for a while.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I will sit up with you, my dear.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The windows in the room were folding windows, and reached to the
-ground. Ellen opened them; and she and Dan were presently sitting
-beneath the veranda, he upon a chair, she upon the ground, with her
-head resting in his lap.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Do you remember that Christmas night, Ellen, when Jo came home?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Dan.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And the strange impression I had upon me that Jo was near us,
-although I had no actual knowledge of it?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I can see the street as we saw it then, Ellen, with its covering of
-snow, and that cruel black gash in it which the only man who passed
-tore with his feet. It was like an ill-omen. You see nothing to
-disturb the beauty of the scene, Ellen?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No; but why do you ask, my dear?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Because I have upon me to-night the same feeling that I had then;
-because notwithstanding that it is almost madness to say it and
-believe it, I believe that Jo is near us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Dan!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;To no one else but you would I say this, my dear. Long dwelling upon
-one subject fills the mind with singular thought concerning it, and it
-may be that this feeling that is upon me now is but the creation of
-the wildest fancy. Yet there are strange influences within us and
-around us for which we cannot account, and which affect us in
-mysterious ways. When I first knew that it was Jo's wish to be a
-sailor, and that we should be parted, I tried with all my mind and
-soul--it may be that it was a foolish, childish fancy, Ellen, but I
-had it--to create such a heart sympathy between us that we could never
-be parted in spirit. I had some wild ideas then of being able to dream
-of what he was doing and seeing when he was thousands of miles away
-from our little room in Stepney. Of course they came to nothing; but
-it would be strange indeed, if this earnest striving of mine had not
-produced some feeling within me which time only can test. You remember
-what poor Minnie's father used to say: 'There are more things in
-heaven and earth than is dreamed of in our philosophy.'&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">So they sat together talking and musing, and it was past midnight
-before they retired to rest.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Early in the morning, the whimsical mail-contractor was jogging along
-towards Bull's Run; he had to stop so many times for the little birds
-in the road, that his progress was slow; but he had reckoned upon
-these impediments, and he arrived at the station not more than a
-couple of hours after the usual time. That was the end of his journey;
-the following day he had to make his way back to Dan's village. The
-residence of the owner of Bull's-Run station was built of slabs split
-from the bloodwood-tree; the roof was of shingle; and the interior of
-the house was lined with rich dark-red cedar, which gave it quite a
-cosey, comfortable appearance. The workmen's huts were built of
-palm-tree slabs, and the roofs were thatched with strong sword-grass,
-which grew in great profusion on the banks of a river within a few
-miles of the homestead. Ramsay was always welcomed at Bull's Run; the
-men and women on the station--for, primitive as it was, there were
-women and children living on it--used to cluster round him and ask him
-for news from the villages through which he passed, and the smallest
-items were received with thankfulness, and eagerly listened to. On
-this occasion, Ramsay had but little news to tell, and his budget was
-soon exhausted. In return, they told him theirs: one of the bulls had
-torn a man's arm open; a child had been lost for a whole night, and
-all the men were out searching for it miles away, and it was found the
-next morning within half a mile of the hut; three bushrangers,
-splendidly mounted, passed the station last week at full gallop; one
-of the shepherds had come in with a cock-and-a-bull story of gold
-being found somewhere or other; another shepherd had gone mad;
-Yellow-hammer Jack and his wife had had a row; and--but Oh! this was
-the best bit of the lot!--a man had been brought in by two stockmen
-who were looking for lost cattle, and had found him instead; he was
-almost dead, and had been living a long time with the Blacks. He
-seemed a decent kind of fellow, had been a sailor, he said, but was
-strangely silent about himself--for good reasons, some of the
-ill-natured ones said. Any ways, the man was better, although still very
-weak, and intended to start the next morning for Sydney; nothing would
-stop him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A long tramp for a weak man,&quot; said kind-hearted Ramsay; &quot;if he's a
-decent fellow, I'll give him a lift.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As he said this, there came towards the group, walking very slowly, a
-strange-looking man, with a beard down to his breast, dressed in skins
-and furs; he had a stick in his hand, and seemed to require its
-support. They pointed to him, and said that was the man. Ramsay looked
-at him keenly, and the air of melancholy that rested in the man's eyes
-impressed the mail-contractor with a feeling of pity.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A sailor, eh?&quot; he thought; &quot;and living with the savages. Wonder what
-he lived with them for?&quot; Then he thought of Dan's and Ellen's anxiety
-concerning strange sailors and castaways, and that perhaps they would
-be glad to see this man. He said nothing, however, but was up the next
-morning early, and saw the man start on his road with slow and painful
-steps. A few minutes afterwards the old mare was harnessed, and its
-tail was turned to Bull's Run. Soon he came up to the man, and as he
-did so, two purple-breasted robins pecking at a bit of honeysuckle
-barred his progress. &quot;Get out of my way, little birds,&quot; said the
-mail-driver, pulling up his mare; and he gave a soft flick with his
-whip in a direction where the robins were not. The words reached the
-man's ears, and he turned his head in surprise, and saw the little
-comedy. A gentle, sweet smile rested on his lips, and he looked at the
-mail-driver almost gratefully. Ramsay smiled in return, and again bade
-the little robins get out of his way; and presently they took flight,
-each with a tiny piece of the sweet flower in its beak. Then the old
-mare jogged lazily along, and the strange-looking man gazed wistfully
-after the cart. Ramsay, looking back, saw the wistful expression, and
-stopped at once. &quot;Hi, mate!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua came slowly forward.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where you bound for?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Sydney.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Going to walk all the way?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If I can,&quot; sighed Joshua; and could not help adding, &quot;and if I don't
-die on the road!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Jump up, mate; I can give you a lift for forty miles.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have no money,&quot; and Joshua turned away, with a sob.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I don't want your money; I want your company. But how were you going
-to live, if you've no money?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I should trust to the Providence that has so wonderfully delivered
-me,&quot; thought Joshua, but made no reply aloud; though it could be seen
-in his eyes, which were filled with tears.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Jump in,&quot; said Ramsay, imperatively and kindly, &quot;without another
-word.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">And without another word Joshua climbed into the cart.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I dare say now,&quot; said Ramsay in the course of conversation, as the
-old mare trotted steadily on the road, &quot;that you wonder what made me
-so anxious for your company. Well, I'll tell you. In the village where
-I shall put up to-morrow afternoon, and which is forty odd miles on
-the road to Sydney, live some people I'm very fond of, who had a
-sailor friend that they've not heard of for a long while.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ah!&quot; sighed Joshua; &quot;I know, what their feeling must be. Did they
-love him?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Love him! Well, you shall see for yourself; if, in return for the
-lift I am giving you, you won't mind talking to them a bit.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I shall be glad to; it may remind me of my own friends.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Where are your friends?--Now, Dozy!&quot; this to the old mare, who had
-stopped suddenly short; &quot;what d'ye stop for? The sense of the
-creature!&quot; he added proudly, pointing, to a bird some yards in front
-of them. &quot;Get out of my way, little bird!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;When I first heard you say that,&quot; said Joshua, &quot;I was sure you had a
-kind heart.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Fond of birds yourself, mate?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Very, very fond. The tenderest remembrances of my life are connected
-with them.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ramsay cast a sharp glance at the half-savage.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Been long among the Blacks, mate? or isn't the story true?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It's true enough. Long among them? Ay--years, but I don't know how
-long.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua, indeed, had lost count of time.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;From choice?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No; but I've told my story to no one yet. It would scarcely be
-believed. But tell me about your friends and the sailor.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;There's a mother there, that lost a son when she lost her
-sailor&quot;--Joshua pressed his fingers to his face, and sobbed
-convulsively at the thought of his own dear mother, who had lost a son
-when she lost her sailor; and the mail-driver felt a choking in his
-throat, and had to wait a few moments before he could proceed. &quot;And a
-father that lost a son at the same time. And a wife that lost a
-husband. And a friend that lost a friend. And a little child that can
-hardly be said to have lost a father, for she never saw her father's
-face.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Merciful God!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What's the matter, mate?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">For Joshua was trembling--like a child; and great sobs came from his
-chest--like a man.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You remind me--you remind me,&quot; sobbed Joshua. &quot;Don't think me
-unmanly, don't think me mad. I have been sorely, sorely tried!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Whereat Ramsay stopped the mare, and got out of the cart, and went
-into the bush to look for birds. He must have had a great difficulty
-in finding them, he was away so long; and the old mare stood perfectly
-still and contented the while, twitching her tail to knock off the
-flies, which was the only spirited action she was ever known to be
-guilty of. When they were jogging along again, they did not speak a
-word for a full hour, and then it was Joshua who spoke first, taking
-up the thread where it had been dropped.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The child who has never seen her father--a girl then?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, mate.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How was it that she had never seen him?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Married her mother; went away to sea, and never heard of since.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;How old is the child?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Five years, I should say.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;If you knew,&quot; said Joshua in a slow trembling voice, &quot;what a chord
-you have touched in my heart, you would pity me. Forgive me for my
-strange manner, and answer me. The mother who has lost a son; describe
-her.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;An angel. I'm not good at picking faces to pieces; but when I look at
-her, she reminds me of my own mother, dead and gone this many a year.
-Never thinks of herself; always putting herself out for other
-people--bless her old face! And yet she's not so old, although her
-hair is nearly white--that's from grief.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The father who lost a son?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A fine fellow; a little self-willed and obstinate; a wood-turner.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A long, long silence. The mail-driver did not break it, nor did he
-intrude upon his companion's thoughts. &quot;Twit-twit-twit!&quot; came from the
-throats of some diamond sparrows, which were flitting among the
-gum-tree branches and a flock of scarlet lowry parrots floated
-through the bush that lined the road on either side, their
-wonderfully-gorgeous plumage lighting up the dark trees with brilliant
-light.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;The wife that lost a husband, and the friend that lost a friend?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Treasures both; brother and sister.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;One other question--where do they come from?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;London. I don't know what part.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">A mist floated before Joshua's eyes, and he remained like one in a
-dream during the afternoon--wondering, hoping, fearing. When they were
-near to the village the following afternoon, Joshua said,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It may be that you have rendered me one of the greatest services that
-a man can possibly render another. If it be as I scarcely dare to
-hope, we shall know each other for long after this. Complete the
-service by doing one little thing more. Drive past the house where
-your friends live and point it out to me, so that I may descend and
-walk to it alone when we are at the end of your journey.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Ramsay nodded. It was about five o'clock when the mail-cart rattled
-into the village. The contractor for the mails always made a great
-clatter when he came in, as if he had been driving for his life--a
-fiction which, although no one believed in, he thought it desirable to
-keep up. &quot;It looks government-like,&quot; he said.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Solomon Fewster is in the garden at the rear of the house,
-pleading
-his suit to Ellen for the twentieth time. She stands silent until he
-has finished a rhapsody, in which love and money are strangely
-commingled.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Think of the time I have waited, Ellen,&quot; he says; &quot;think of the
-constancy of my affection, and of the position I can offer you.
-I am making money fast, and only wait for you to say yes, to buy a
-house for us, which in three years will be worth three times what
-they ask for it. What is the use of your wasting your life in this
-out-of-the-way village when all the attractions of a city-life are
-open to you? Come now, give me your hand, and reward the man who has
-been your constant friend and lover, and who can make you rich.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But Ellen is insensible to the splendor of the offer; indeed, she is
-weary of it and him, and she tells him so spiritedly, and yet cannot
-repulse him. At length she says,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Mr. Fewster, there must be an end to this. I shall never, never marry
-again; and even if I did,&quot; she adds, to put a stop to what has become
-persecution, &quot;I should not choose you;&quot; and leaves him with this arrow
-in his heart.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He stands amazed. Not choose him! Why, a thousand girls would jump at
-him. Not here perhaps, for womankind was a scarce commodity; but at
-home, or anywhere where girls were more plentiful. Not choose him! He
-follows her into the house, wounded and mortified, and into Dan's
-room, where Mr. Marvel and Dan are at work. Mr. Marvel has all his
-tools, and does a great deal of wood-turning--having, indeed, more
-than he can do--and is putting by money. He scarcely looks up as
-Solomon Fewster walks in, somewhat defiantly; and as no one speaks to
-him, an awkward silence ensues upon his entrance; broken by Mr.
-Marvel, who, noticing Ellen's flushed face, observes,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Been teasing Ellen again, Mr. Fewster?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Teasing her, indeed!&quot; exclaims Solomon Fewster loftily; &quot;honoring
-her, I should say.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The flush upon Ellen's face deepens at this, and she casts such a look
-of aversion at Mr. Fewster that all the blood rushes into <i>his</i> face,
-and he says some injudicious words about ingratitude, and about what
-one might expect if one condescended to lower himself as he had done.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Upon this George Marvel starts to his feet in a great heat, and
-exclaims,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What do you mean by ingratitude, and by lowering yourself, Mr.
-Fewster? What gratitude do we owe you?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Ask Dan,&quot; says Mr. Fewster,--&quot;ask Dan who it was bought his birds to
-keep you when you were starving, and when no one else would look upon
-you. But it serves me right for noticing you and helping you, instead
-of treating you as all your neighbors did. I ought to have known what
-return I might expect.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And I dare say you got your return,&quot; says George Marvel, &quot;when you
-sold Dan's birds at a good profit. As for Dan selling his birds to
-keep us from starving, that was no business of yours, so long as you
-got value for your money. That is a matter between Dan and me; and
-Dan's satisfied with the way that account stands, or I'm mistaken in
-him.&quot; Dan presses George Marvel's hand. &quot;Thank you, Dan. Now, as to
-lowering yourself, Mr. Fewster. Do you mean to tell me that you would
-be lowering yourself if Ellen here was free to marry you, and would
-accept you? You mean-spirited dog! I'm a good deal older than you are;
-but if you were not in my house, I would thrash you for speaking as
-you have done, as I've thrashed others in Stepney when they let loose
-their lying tongues at us. Get out of the place, and never set foot in
-it again!&quot; Attracted by the loud voices, Susan and Mrs. Marvel, with
-Ellen's child, have come into the room; and Mrs. Marvel now goes to
-her husband's side and lays her hand upon his arm. &quot;Nay, Maggie--let
-be; I'm not going to hurt him; I wouldn't lay a finger upon him here;
-and I don't want to anywhere else; only, don't let him cross me if he
-says a word against us out of this house.--Dan!&quot; he cries, &quot;do you
-want to see Mr. Fewster here again?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, sir; I think it will be best if Mr. Fewster will keep away from
-us.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;And you, Ellen? what do you say?</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I never wish to see him again. For the sake of what is past, I would
-have been content to see him, if he would have ceased from persecuting
-me; but after what he has said to you, I hope he will leave us in
-peace.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You hear,&quot; exclaims George Marvel; &quot;we are happy enough without you.
-Go, and never darken this door again!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Solomon Fewster looks round, almost savagely; his face is white with
-passion, and all the vindictiveness of his bad nature comes into play.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You are happy enough without me!&quot; he sneers, with his knuckles to his
-mouth.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Don't make too sure of that. I have been your friend hitherto. What
-if I now make myself your enemy? What if, when I go from this house, I
-spread about <i>my</i> version of your reason for leaving London? What if I
-tell your neighbors here of the real character of your sailor-hero,
-and how, because of his villainy, all your friends turned their backs
-upon you&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But he has no time to say more; for the door, which has been partly
-open, swings on its hinges, and Joshua enters.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Not one of them recognizes him. In his strange garb, with his fur-cap
-pulled over his eyes, and with his face covered with hair, no trace of
-Joshua is discernible; and yet they look at him spell-bound, waiting
-for him to speak. He gazes at the forms of all the dear ones and
-grasps the back of a chair to steady himself. He takes them all in at
-a glance, and sees in one brief moment the changes in them that time
-has made. His mother's white hair; the deepened wrinkles in his
-father's face; Ellen more matronly than she was, but fair and pleasant
-to look at as when she was a girl; Susan, like an old woman; Dan grown
-a little stouter, and with the same dear boyish light in his eyes and
-on his face--but the child, clinging to Ellen's apron and looking at
-him wonderingly with Ellen's eyes and his!--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">He had thought, before he entered, that he would be strong, but he has
-no more control over himself for a few moments than a straw in a
-fierce wind. Then muttering, &quot;Justice first!&quot; he turns upon Solomon
-Fewster a glance of hate and scorn, and grasps him by the shoulder
-with so powerful a grasp, that Fewster writhes with pain.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I heard your last words,&quot; he says.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">But directly he speaks, a thrill runs through them, and they are
-running towards him with outstretched arms, when he cries,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Stand off! By what strange chance I find you, I can scarcely imagine.
-But do not come nearer to me for a little while, or I shall fall dead
-at your feet!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Awe-struck and trembling they obey him.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I would not touch one of your dear hands till you have heard me and
-judged me, though death were the penalty for depriving myself of the
-joy! I would not receive one kiss from your honored lips upon my cheek
-till you have heard me and judged me, though I were sure that my
-tongue would be paralyzed in the utterance of what I have to say! Some
-part of your sufferings, some part of your pain, I know from my own
-suffering and pain, and I will clear myself before your eyes, so help
-me Thou! or go forever from my sight!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Susan is running to him with cries of &quot;Justice! justice!&quot; and is about
-to throw herself upon him, when George Marvel's arm restrains and
-keeps her back. &quot;Be still, madwoman!&quot; he mutters sternly, and stands
-by her side, watchful of her, and no less watchful and attentive of
-every word that falls from his son's lips.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua takes the cap from his head, and lets it fall to the ground,
-still keeping his strong grasp upon Solomon Fewster, whose cowardly
-blood grows thin as he writhes and listens.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Justice!&quot; echoes Joshua. &quot;You shall have it, and so shall this base
-dog, whose presence pollutes the air I breathe. Listen well. Of
-another matter that we must speak of presently, and which is near and
-dear to all our hearts, I will say nothing before him. But in the
-'Merry Andrew' in which I sailed from Gravesend, and which is now at
-the bottom of the sea, with many dear brave souls that were aboard
-her, was a villanous sailor--a Lascar, from whose hands I once rescued
-the woman who calls for justice, and who struck me down on that
-dreadful Christmas-eve when I first came home from sea. He shrinks and
-trembles beneath my grasp, this false friend, of whose bad heart I
-warned my brother Dan before the 'Merry Andrew' sailed. At one time
-during the voyage, when we were in danger, there was an attempt at
-mutiny, and this Lascar was one of the cowardly wretches who
-endeavored to spread dissatisfaction. When we were in dread peril,
-this Lascar sailor and a mutinous mate, whom we had to put in irons,
-strove hard to injure me and the captain--Heaven rest his soul--and,
-happily, failed. The ship was wrecked, and we had to abandon her, and
-take to a raft which we had made; and on that raft we suffered more
-than six weeks hunger and thirst, and every species of misery. Out of
-the entire crew and passengers only seven were saved, among them being
-myself and this Lascar sailor and his confederate, the mutinous mate.
-Before the captain died, he appointed me to succeed in the command,
-and I have the record from the log-book about me now. We got ashore.
-How we lived, you shall hear from me by and by; but once the Lascar
-(whom we suspected of having killed his confederate) stole upon me,
-and but that I turned my head in time, I should not be here now to
-expose the villainy of this cowardly wretch. Foiled in his devilish
-design, he told me then that he had been set to trap me, and was paid
-for it. Some time after that, I found the Lascar dead in the forest;
-and before I buried him--not wishing to leave a human creature
-however vile, to be eaten by birds and beasts--I obtained evidence
-which proved to me that the wretch who writhes now within my grasp was
-the master who paid him to ruin, and perhaps to murder me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A clever lie,&quot; Solomon Fewster manages to say, though he is shaking
-from terror.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;A lie! have the proofs. Be thankful that I have met you here among
-those who are all that the world holds dear for ma. If I had met you
-in the forest, in the midst of such scenes as I have witnessed lately,
-I would not have answered for your life.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Joshua hurls Solomon Fewster from him with such force that he falls,
-almost stunned, in the corner of the room. Then Joshua takes from his
-neck the bag containing; his relics, and selects from them the silver
-watch and the document which Fewster had given the Lascar, and after
-reading aloud the document and the inscription on the watch, lays them
-upon the table.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Here are the proofs of your crime and your villainy,&quot; he says to
-Fewster. &quot;Be thankful if you are allowed to escape punishment. Go and
-go quickly, and without a word!&quot; He stands aside to let the man pass;
-and Solomon Fewster, without a word or a look to any one there, passes
-out of the room, and out of the village. And is never seen in it
-again.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">When they are alone, Joshua turns to Susan, and, in a softer voice,
-says,--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Susan, you cried for justice. Upon me!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, upon you. Where is Minnie? What have you done with Minnie?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">The big tears roll down Joshua's beard at the mention of her name.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You think I took her away?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You know you did.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Then truly, if all of you believe as Susan believes, my life is
-darker than the darkest night.&quot; With upraised hand he checks them,
-from speaking; but he sees in their faces what gives him precious
-comfort. &quot;When I went away from Gravesend,&quot; he says in a soft and
-gentle voice, &quot;I had no knowledge that Minnie was aboard. When we got
-to Sydney I did not know it. My duties occupied all my time. We sailed
-from Sydney, and I was still in ignorance. But on the night the 'Merry
-Andrew' struck on the rocks I heard her voice for the first time. I
-suppose she thought that we were lost, and in her agony she made
-herself known to me; but I did not see her--the night was too dark.
-When I saw her the next day, I saw to my amazement that she had
-stained her face, and that her hair was not so long as she used to
-wear it. We were together on the raft. We were together on the shore.
-She was one of the seven who were saved. We lived together like
-brother and sister. When the savages discovered us, they had a strange
-fancy respecting her, and she obtained great influence over them. She
-used all her influence to protect me, and but for her I should have
-lived and died where the tribe we fell amongst chiefly wandered--in
-the north, many hundreds of miles from here.&quot; He takes from his bag
-Ellen's portrait, the lock of her hair he had cut before he left
-Gravesend, and Dan's Bible. He places these on one side. &quot;What is
-left, Dan, is yours. This tress, cut not many weeks ago; this paper,
-which she desired me to give you, and which I have never read; this
-earth, which I gathered from her grave Before she died, she sent you
-all her dearest love, and a kiss for mother, Dan, and Ellen. She died
-pure as she had lived, dear, faithful, mistaken heart! As I hope for
-redemption, I speak the truth. If you believe me, take me to your
-hearts again, and let me live in them as I know I once lived!&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">As he once lived! as he had always lived! They cluster round him, and
-kiss him, and sob over him. Had he not been saved from the deep--ay,
-and from greater perils--to comfort them? And they put his little
-daughter in his arms, who asks, hearing that he was her father, &quot;Has
-God sent my father back? God is very good.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">O good faithful mother! can this great bearded man be your son? Not
-often can such a cluster of loving hearts be seen--faithful to each
-other, believing in each other's goodness and purity, in face of
-terrible adverse circumstance. Their faithfulness is a proof of their
-own worth. To the pure all things are pure. But hush! for Minnie's
-last words; Dan is reading them aloud.</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I have learned, too late, the consequences of my fault. But
-I, and I
-alone, am to blame. No one knew it; no one suspected it; no one aided
-me in it. I am writing this upon a page of Dan's Bible, and it seems
-to me like an oath. I cannot live long. I am dying. But a long-life's
-devotion could not repay Joshua's brotherly care. All good angels
-guard him and you! If Joshua is preserved to give you this--and I
-believe he will be--think, while you read it, that my spirit is near;
-and forgive me, dear Dan and Ellen. My love to you both, and to good
-Mrs. Marvel and Joshua's father; and to Susan, who must have no bad
-thoughts of Joshua. God bless you, and send you happiness!</p>
-
-<p style="text-indent:60%">&quot;<span class="sc">Minnie</span>.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">Dan and Joshua sit talking together until late in the night.
-Ellen and
-Mr. and Mrs. Marvel are sitting up also, but in another part of the
-house. They know that Dan wants to speak to Joshua of Minnie, and they
-leave the friends undisturbed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">What is said to each other by the two faithful friends cannot be
-written here; but it may be easily understood by those who have read
-these pages. Joshua tells Dan as much as time will allow of his and
-Minnie's lives, and is tender and indignant in turns, as Dan relates
-to him the history of the family in Stepney after the sailing of the
-&quot;Merry Andrew.&quot; Be sure that the Old Sailor is not forgotten. I650f
-tender speech and loving thought are worth any thing, the Old Sailor
-is rich indeed.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Their eyes are wet with tears, and their hands are in each other's
-clasp. Joshua has just finished his relation of Minnie's death, and of
-her words about the river--&quot;So restless there, so quiet here!&quot;--when a
-knock comes at the door and Ellen enters. He takes her in his arms,
-and they sit, the three of them, and talk in a state of wondering
-happiness.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Another knock at the door.--Mr. and Mrs. Marvel. The magnetism of love
-has drawn them all together.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;It reminds me of the night before you first went to see, Jo,&quot; says
-Dan. &quot;Do you remember? The knocks at the door one after another.&quot;</p>
-<br>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Josh,&quot; said George Marvel to his son, a fortnight afterwards,
-&quot;what
-are you going to do?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What do you mean, daddy?&quot; asked Joshua in return.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;What do I mean? Well, you don't want to go to sea again?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;No, I shouldn't like to leave Ellen and Dan and all of you again.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, then, what are you going to do? You must do something.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Mrs. Marvel sat silent, and smiled a little smile, but very slyly, so
-that no one should see it.</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;You can get plenty of work as a wood-turner, daddy?&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Josh, a good deal more than I can do--and well paid for it too.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Well, daddy, I think&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, Josh, you think&quot;--</p>
-
-<p class="normal">&quot;I think I'll learn wood-turning, if you'll teach me.&quot;</p>
-
-<p class="normal">Whereupon George Marvel, after the slightest amount of hesitation,
-rose and kissed his wife.</p>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-<br>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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